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Self & Society
The President, The Rotunda, and Connecting With American History by Julie Fonda When I was eleven years old yet – still a child and not yet the recipient of those, horrific hormones of puberty (that turn nice little girls into "Bitches-in -Training"), our family went to Washington, D.C. for a vacation. It was truly the last family vacation that had extended a window of opportunity for my parents to expose me to the historical and cultural side of life before I metamorphosized into a typical, self-centered, disinterested boy-crazy teenager. I do not wish to be misunderstood, though. When I grew up and had my own batch of teenagers, I loved them, but they were definitely a breed all their own, and U.S. history was one area of study that my teens were rarely interesting in pursuing any further than that which was required of them in school. And this condition would remain with them until their college years, when American history became more of something that they could identify with and were interested in learning more about. And since, during that trip to Washington, D.C., I had yet to cross the threshhold from childhood to adolescence, I was the perfect age to be taking in the sights and historical monuments of our country. And my exposure to it had affected me and actually sunk in. We visited the various monuments and memorials, and I was impressed with the importance that our forefathers had placed in the forming of a country with freedoms and inalienable rights for all of its citizens. I saw the famous signatures on documents in glass cases, and I got to observe the House of Representatives in action, doing the job that they had been elected to do. And I was duly amazed at how many, many people were involved in the daily routine of the running of our country's government. I watched reporters being interviewed outside the White House and also had the privilege of going on an official White House tour. But the one thing that impressed me more than all of the historic places that our family visited was within the Capitol Building but not the entire Capitol Building itself. I was extraordinarily impressed with the ROTUNDRA of the Capitol Building. (That is the round part of the building with the domed roof – a place that I could still vividly remember, just months before, seeing on National television when President Kennedy had been assassinated.) To me, it represented the end of Camelot, the end of an era of patriotism – the beginning of the fall of a universal pride in all Americans for their country and what it represented, and an erosion of respect and admiration for its leaders
Even as a child of eleven, I had a burning desire to stand in the exact spot in the center of the Rotunda of the Capitol in the place where John F. Kennedy's body had lain in state, through which thousands and thousands of Americans – citizens united by a collective broken heart -- had slowly filed through for several days, to bid good-bye to their fallen leader, shot down and killed during the prime of his life. I touched the floor where President's Kennedy's casket had rested all alone inside the Rotunda. And I remembered one night while her husband's body was lying in state how – at a very late hour of the night -- Jacqueline Kennedy had made an unannounced visit to the Rotunda of the Capitol to be with her husband, though he was gone forever. Jackie wore a black veil and those comfortable shoes that she brought back into fashion. I remember her just appearing in the building and walking over to where her husband's coffin was lying. She touched the flag and held her hand on it for what seemed to be a long time. She was saying good-bye – not just to the President who had inspired so many, many Americans with his charisma and vision – but to her lover, husband, friend and to the father of her children. I remember thinking that because she had shared him with the rest of the Americans in our country, he was no longer alive, and I wondered if she felt resentful of that. Her very countenance and demeanor were those of a grieving wife and not those of a First Lady. I imagined that being the First Lady was – at that time –at the bottom of her list of priorities. And at the top of her list was the act that she was in the process of living out: That of saying good-bye to the man who had been her whole life and whom she had certainly loved with all of her heart. When I touched the very center of the Rotunda building's hard, marble floor, I felt the place where history had happened, and I connected with it on a personal level. And I identified with it and its significance in my own young life – because it now had a point of contact for me. I had been deeply affected by President Kennedy's assassination. To me, it had seemed so unfair that JFK was not allowed to die a natural death and whose life had unwillingly been snatched away from him and from the people of our country by the bullets of one or two (no one really knows how many) sniper(s). The inequity of one or two men having the power to change the course of American History with less than a minute of unchecked violence seemed surrealistic to me. And I was struck by the innate fragility of man – even great men, famous men, and men who wielded huge amounts of power and were leaders over many, many people. It struck me that they were no different than the rest of us – with flesh and bones and blood. That they were just as susceptible of being cut down in the prime of their lives, in the same way that other Americans were. And when I held the palm of my young hand on the cool marble floor in the exact spot where our beloved President of the United States had recently lain in state, I connected with the significance of our country's history and with all of the Americans who had given their lives during war and peace to keep our government intact – to ensure that freedom continued to thrive in the greatest country in the world. And I knew that after President Kennedy's death, our country began to enter into a new era of government where patriotism began its slow decline. And even at eleven years of age, it saddened me. I wondered about the powers that waged against our country – even some of them from within – and how a certain element of antagonists had decided to play God and kill a man who had dedicated his life to making our country better. Since that time, I have heard many rumors about former President Kennedy – about how he was a bad man and about how he was a great man. And I will admit that I don't know all of the ins and outs of his Presidency. I do know, however, the effect that his assassination had upon my young life. Within the heart and mind of an eleven-year-old girl, John F. Kennedy, the man, and John F. Kennedy, the President's affect on her newly forming attitudes about American government and its interplay with the people of our country had resulted in the beginnings of a profound understanding of what freedom and duty to our country was all about. Even as a child, I realized that our country could be compared to that of a living organism that over the passage of time – remained the same and yet also changed to accommodate the difference in the emerging and diverse groups of people who were all Americans. I gained the understanding that our government would never be perfect as long as it was implemented and enforced by imperfect people. But as the years passed, I developed a strong appreciation for the privilege of living in a country where criticism was allowed and where laws could be challenged and ratified. A country where opportunities were given to help us to become whatever we wanted to be – if we were willing to sacrifice and work hard for them -- and where diversity was sanctioned more with each passing year. And since that time, I have felt proud to be an American – even when I have not always agreed with everything that our leaders have done. I have felt proud to be a part of changing and distinctly different groups of people existing under one form of government. Where unity does not require conformity. And though we are not the same, and do not always agree with each others' philosophies of government, and may even express and demonstrate our dissatisfaction publically, we are still – in our diversity, with its strengths and weaknesses -- Americans united under one Constitution.. And since the day that I tangibly connected with the history of our country, I have felt proud to be an American and appreciative of the freedoms my government has afforded me to be able to lead the life that I have wanted to and for the opportunities it has provided me to contribute – even in just my little corner of the country -- towards its betterment. February 11, 2004 About the Author(s): See under Our Contributors to find out about the Author(s) of this article. |
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