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 Continue Reading “The Day ‘The Democracy’ Died”
The Layers Beyond The Image Reveal Mesmerizing Rabbit Holes
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but those thousand words often represent just the start of a great story. Here are the thousand words (and beyond) prompted by this picture.
First, just the facts. I took this picture in August of 1988. It’s just outside the medieval village of Fontecchio in the Province of Abruzzo, Italy. That’s the hometown of my father’s father. I was the first of his descendants to visit there. (My father and his sister wouldn’t get there until a year or so later.)
But it’s not like we didn’t have family there. It’s just that I didn’t know any of them, and I assumed they had no idea who I was. Indeed, during a scouting trip to Fontecchio the day before, it certainly seemed that way. After all, despite my pedigree, I felt I looked a lot less Continue Reading “The Layers Beyond The Image Reveal Mesmerizing Rabbit Holes”