The Day ‘The Democracy’ Died

JFK Campaign Poster. Source: Unidentified Artist, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Two hundred years. It was a great run while it lasted.

I wrote eight years ago how the establishment Republicans’ alienation of Donald Trump signaled the end of that party, (see “The Night the Grand Old Party Died,” Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel, April 14, 2016). A week ago, their counterpart decided to return the favor.

To fully appreciate the significance of this, understand I was raised a Kennedy Democrat, pretty much like every other Catholic who grew up in the 1960s. Every home in my family and every home of my family’s friends had two pictures hanging somewhere among their walls. One was of the Pope. The other was of John F. Kennedy.

How effusive was the Kennedy aura in our family? My brother’s name was “Kenneth.” We called him “Kenny.” My great-great aunt Zia Pepe (that would be my mother’s great aunt and my grandmother’s aunt) watched us when my mother had to substitute teach. She called my brother “Ken-eh-dee.” It was a badge of honor for him. He collected all things Kennedy, at least for a short time.

Zia Pepe was babysitting us when JFK was assassinated. The three of us watched it on TV. She cried. We didn’t know why Zia Pepe was crying. As we were watching, our mother came home from work. She didn’t even say hello to us. She ran up the stairs coming into our ranch home, turned down the hallway, and went straight into her bedroom. She cried. We didn’t know why our mother was crying.

We were only two and three years old. We thought it was just a TV show.

Five years later, when RFK’s funeral train traveled across the country, Zia Pepe was watching us. She insisted we watch the coverage of the train. We did. We were older then, so we understood a little better. We didn’t quite understand why Zia Pepe wanted to watch the rails rushing away on the TV screen. Apparently, they had a camera on the train in the rear car. It pointed to the rails so you could only see where the train had been.

For years, then, the Kennedy clan and ours were one. We even overlooked some of their—hmm—“family values” when the tabloids started spilling the once hidden truths. This was after Chappaquiddick, which we sighed at. We never confused their indiscretions with their status as pioneering Catholics. In fact, it wasn’t ever about politics. It was just that, except for their being Irish and us being Italian, they were just like us. I mean, Frank Sinatra even wrote a campaign song for JFK.

By 1980, things changed. That year, the family had become Reagan Democrats. The reality of stagflation, closing steel mills, and general economic malaise drew even the family’s most solid FDR Democrats (my grandfathers) over to Reagan’s camp.

That didn’t mean the Kennedy mystique had vanished.

In the winter of 1980, during the presidential primary season, a handful of friends convinced me to take the weekend off and head to New Hampshire to campaign for George H. W. Bush. Bush was a fellow at our college, so it was more of a “stay true to your school” thing. I went, did what we were asked to do, got hollered at by George W. Bush “for acting like kids,” then went back to some dorm.

That wasn’t good enough. Some other classmates were also in New Hampshire campaigning for Teddy Kennedy. They invited me (but not my friends) to the “after party” because I was from Buffalo. I went.

The party was at a bar. The drinking age in New Hampshire at the time was 20. I was still 19. They said it was all right. I figured as long as I didn’t order a drink, I’d be OK.

That’s when I met RFK Jr. My Kennedy supporting classmate brought me to his table and introduced me. I must have looked odd, because he said something snooty to me. “What are you staring at?” he asked me.

“Are you from California?” I countered.

Perplexed, and getting visibly angry, he suspiciously asked, “Why?”

I had to tell him the truth. The whole truth.

“You look just like my cousin Ricky!” I couldn’t hold back. I then reiterated the whole story about how my cousin parked a car on a mountain, got out to check into an inn, then looked back to watch it roll off the cliff. I thought it was a hilarious story.

RFK Jr. didn’t think this was as funny as I thought it was. He had the bouncer kick me out.

But that was a time when the Democratic Party still invited him to their events.

That all changed this year. Like the GOP establishment’s attempt to ostracize Donald Trump in 2016, the Democratic Party establishment gave RFK Jr. the cold-shoulder in 2024. The only difference: the Democrats succeeded in their effort while the Republicans failed.

The Republican Party’s failure signaled the end of the Grand Old Party. Trump went on to win the nomination and then the general election. While the name remains the same, today’s Republican Party has taken on an increasingly decided MAGA flavor. This is not your grandfather’s Grand Old Party.

Ironically, the success of the Democratic Party in alienating RFK Jr. may be more damaging. As judged by RFK Jr.’s comments when he suspended his campaign, he doesn’t appear to shy from exposing his former party.

What really hit the target and is something we all need to remember is this line from RFK Jr.’s statement at Trump’s rally in Glendale, Arizona. He said when he sat down to talk to Trump, “We talked not about the things that separate us because we don’t agree on everything, but on the values and issues that bind us together.”

This emphasis on areas of commonality is how JFK brought a divided country together. RFK Jr. mentioned this directly, saying the Democratic Party isn’t father’s or uncle’s Democratic Party.

Some of RFK Jr.’s family members, as they had done earlier when he initially announced his campaign, stood with the Democratic Party establishment. They issued a scathing letter denouncing him. The letter was immediately made fun of for stating RFK Jr. violated their “family values.”

Actress Cheryl Hines, RFK Jr.’s wife, also received a bellyful of condemnation from her Hollywood “friends.” Her response echoes her husband’s appeal for commonality. According to the New York Post, she said, “I deeply respect the decision Bobby made to run on the principle of unity… Over the last year and a half, I have met some extraordinary people from all parties — Democrats, Republicans, and Independents. It’s been my experience that the vast majority of all parties are truly good people who want the best for our country and for each other.”

If the supporters of RFK Jr. also see the fruits of commonality, they will follow him in disliking the party establishment that spurned him. And if the-enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend scenario plays out as initial reports are confirming, that might give Trump an insurmountable boost.

And losing parties tend to explode after a major loss.

The “Democratic Party” (also called the “Democrat Party”) earned its formal name in 1844. Its origin began twenty years before with the demise of the Democratic-Republican Party. It was initially called “The Democracy” while gestating during the Andrew Jacksonian presidency beginning in 1828.

That’s nearly two centuries.

And it was a great run.