Bill Clinton And John Kennedy, Plus A Meal With Matt, Hank, Louie, And Me
Seeing Bill Clinton in action-certainly in North Korea this week, but elsewhere at other times, I wondered what kind of a statesman John F. Kennedy might have been, had there been no Dallas in 1963. His charisma would have equaled if not surpassed that of Clinton. Like Clinton he would have been a relatively young man basking in the limelight of being a former President.
Perhaps his health might have been an issue, but if not, could he have played a role in ending the war in Vietnam? If he had not bee assassinated, would the fates of Malcom X, Martin Luther King, and Bobby Kennedy been different? Conceivably race relations could have been drastically different than today. Would our relations with Russia have changed?
Kennedy was a wealthy man. Could he have created a foundation with the purpose of helping those less fortunate, not only in America, but around the globe? He certainly had the star power to do much good. Being a product of the 60’s, I do wonder “what if?”
My daughter came to me several days ago and said she thinks of her grandfather everyday, that when she goes to visit her grandmother she thinks she’ll walk into their living room and there he will be, sitting in his chair. I had to admit that I think the same thing. Or, more often when the phone rings, I think it is going to be my Dad to commiserate about Nebraska football, volleyball, baseball, or basketball, or maybe talk about going to a Midland College game. Until those “little” things are gone, you don’t know how big they really are.
I have played the “if you could have dinner with three other people, dead or alive, who would you choose?” My choices for the dinner would be my son Matt, my Dad Hank, and my grandfather Louie. Matt and my Dad had a very special bond, which would explain my first two choices. Some of my Christian friends might not be pleased to hear me say this, but my image of God has always been of a kindly, grandfatherly figure smoking a pipe. Of course that is the image I have of my grandfather, sitting in his chair in his house on M Street, smiling at something my brothers or I might have done to aggravate my dad. My son could laugh once more with my Dad, and cry too. He would be enthralled with his great grandfather’s tales of a young Hank. And Louie would be pleased to see how fine a young man his great grandson has become.
Oh, the meal would have to be cooked by my grandma. I miss her a lot too. How that tiny woman gave birth to six boys and a girl, I do not know. How she managed a household with that many boys, especially my dad and uncles, I can’t imagine. But, she did. And boy, could she cook. The meal would have to be, and I mean have to be, her fried chicken. Maybe mashed potatoes and gravy and corn, or her noodles with bread crumbs. Dessert would be her chocolate cake, or better yet, her chocolate chip cookies. Amos would not be Famous if my grandmother could have marketed her cookies. The meal, the dinner would be a wonderful time.
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Ron Speaks Out 