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PHALON'S FILE - 6/11/2008
(by Joe Phalon - OpEd Columnist - June 11, 2008)
Bobby and me
I was a little stunned to realize last week it had been 40 years since Robert F. Kennedy had been assassinated. But then any year ending in “8” will have all sorts of anniversaries of events from 1968.
Robert Kennedy, the senator from New York who entered the race for president late in the campaign season, after discontent with the Vietnam reached new heights, was the first “rock star” politician.
Sure, his brother, President John F. Kennedy, had superstar status, but where Bobby was a rock star, Jack was more of a movie star.
Bobby Kennedy had a way of reaching people‹particularly young people in a way not seen until 40 years later with Barack Obama.
One of those young people was me. I was in the second half of fourth grade at Hillview School in Pompton Plains as the Kennedy campaign began to gain traction. Many of my classmates were swept up in it as well. We knew we were on to something when our teacher began to discourage discussion in the classroom. I don’t remember clearly if our teacher didn’t like our politics or if our elementary-school "McLaughlin Group" was disrupting the rest of the curriculum.
A few people in the class supported Richard Nixon. One of the prevailing rumors was that Kennedy was going to institute year-round school, even on weekends. This was enough for a few fourth-graders to turn to Richard Nixon, the election’s eventual winner.
I, of course, had way too much sense to believe that rumor. (Although I did ask around, just to make sure.) The Kennedy campaign stood in stark contrast to the candidacies of Republican Nixon, and on the Democratic side, Hubert Humphrey. They were your father’s Oldsmobiles.
And as the California primary approached in June, it began to look like Bobby Kennedy was going to unseat the Old School candidates. I stayed up as late as I was allowed, but by bedtime it was still not clear if he would win. It looked good, however, and it was generally agreed that Kennedy winning California would be enough to clinch the Democratic nomination. I went sleep knowing Robert F. Kennedy - my candidate - was going to win in California and go on to the nomination.
I woke up the next morning in the upper level of the bunk bed I shared with my brother. It would be one of those moments that gets seared in your memory. My mother came in as usual to get me up for school, but something was clearly wrong.
“Did Bobby Kennedy win?” I asked her. She told me what happened. That he had been shot. It was probably the toughest thing she ever had to tell me, as hard as telling an 8-year-old a close relative died.
Later that morning I stood talking with the other fourth-grade politicos under the awning of the front doors of Hillview School. It was hard to under comprehend. But it was clear our childhood would be a little different. The world would seem to be turned upside down from the perspective of people such as our teacher.
And I don’t think I got a haircut that summer.
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