“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
Dear granddaughter Matilda:
You asked about the day that President Kennedy was assassinated. Allow me to expand on your very important question because that led to several events that nearly punctured the spirit of an entire generation. The following are segments of my journal notes from that time.
Monday, November 18, 1963
Today was a great day. Our baby boy was born in St. Joseph Hospital in Joliet and I was elated. Dolores and little Thomas Matthew are doing well and might be coming home to our little rented house in Crest Hill as soon as Friday. In the meantime, I will be celebrating this wonderful event even while I continue teaching English classes at Roncalli H.S. in Aurora. Winning basketball or baseball games don’t even come close to the joy that I have right now. I just wish that Dolores and Tommy could be with me and share my happiness.
As with the birth of all kids, the fathers were not allowed in the birthing room. Instead, we fathers were kept in a “waiting” room, where some of the men smoked their cigarettes. Dr. Nicholas Primiano was the doctor and I remember his words, “it’s a boy and mother is doing fine.”
For the next three days, I will only be able to visit Dolores and the baby once a day in the evening. On Friday it will the great day when I will pick them up in the afternoon and our new family addition will finally be together. Looking forward to Friday, my best day ever.
Friday, November 22, 1963
Fr. McDonald was conducting a spiritual retreat for our students and addressing the student body of about 90. While I was sitting on the gym bleachers waiting for the end of school day, I thought that I heard Father Mac announce something like, “The president has been shot.” My first thought was that he was mistaken. That this was a mistake.
On my way back to Joliet on Route 30, I listened intently to the radio, hoping that President Kennedy’s wound wasn’t that serious. It was raining as I drove, and then the announcement came that he was dead. I was upset and emotional while I drove, and I headed toward the George Warden Buck Boys Club to see Tom Walker, a good friend who had also been enthusiastic about the 1960 election. As soon as I saw Tom, I broke into tears, and then we talked for a while. I think it was about 4:00 pm when I drove the few blocks to the hospital and collected Dolores and our baby.
Dolores said that everyone on her hospital floor had been crying as they watched the coin-operated TVs.
On Saturday and Sunday, we were glued to the TV watching events unfold. The wonderful birth of our first child had occurred at almost the same time as a national tragedy. I had many conflicting emotions flooding over me for the next weeks. Now November comes again and, even though it’s been so many years ago, these memories, coupled with Mom’s November 4th birthday, come alive again.
The birth of our baby and the death of our president in 1963 were precursors of many parallel events to come in the 1960s. The Camelot visions of a new, hopeful decade would continue to be dashed in our country with the escalation of war in Viet Nam, rioting, and yet two more assassinations: Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy.
Despite this tragic background, the birth of son Tom was a harbinger of new life. Jacquie would join the family in 1965, John in 1966, Bob in 1968, and Eric in 1969. In our own way, the Kennedy family outshone the gloom wrought by external events with its own glow of wholesomeness and hopefulness that would blossom forward into the 21st century.
Yes, Matilda, the 1960s were the worst of times in one sense, but more importantly the best of times.
“Reflect upon your present blessings – of which everyone has many – not on your past misfortunes, of which all have some.”
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
With love to you, your siblings, and your cousins,
Grandpa Kennedy (aka “Poppy”)
Braidwood Beginnings 
As always, enjoyed the look back in history mixed with your family story. Thanks for sharing…
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You know, Tim, this is a better way to look at history: through the eyes of our ancestors. It is more meaningful that way. This has been my motivation for genealogy, to go back as far as possible and relate world happenings to their time. Thanks for reading this, Tim. Hope all is well with you and your family.
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I remember quite clearly being one of the 90 or so in the bleachers. We were sophomore’s at that time. I have always wondered with the escalation of the war being the class of 66’ did you wonder where we all were headed.
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I remember this day clearly, Jim. I do wonder what might have been.
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I remember this day as well, I was sitting in Sister Carmella’s fourth grade class at St. Rose when another nun walked in and whispered into Sisters ear, and she began to cry. After she composed herself she told the class what had happened. The next thing I remember was looking out of the north windows at the church, as the bells began to ring. It was such a touching moment.
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Thanks, Mike. It’s funny how we can remember events like this. It all comes back, doesn’t it?
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