Fifty-six years ago, I grabbed his hand and ran beside his ’56 Black Buick limo for 20 or 30 yards beneath the now extinct elevated subway tracks in Roxbury, MA. I was ten. He was a senator making his move to the top. I looked him straight in the eyes. His eyes caught mine. What eyes! What a human! No, what a super human!
Fifty years ago, today. The world stood still in shock. It realized it lost the promise of what could have been. Today, we still mourn and hurt. “Johnny, we hardly knew ye!”