I often begin the day with a news show on television as I start the coffee brewing and pour a bowl of cereal. As The Early Show (CBS) covered this morning’s news, one story looked back at Robert Kennedy’s death 45 years ago today. In 1968, news “as it happens” cable coverage did not exist as it does now, but the night Kennedy won the California primary and the events that followed were broadcast live—and I was watching.
Two high
school friends were very enthusiastic Kennedy supporters, so we planned an
overnight stay at one friend’s house to watch the California primary results that June night. It was
well after midnight when we saw Kennedy make his victory speech. We celebrated in the early morning quiet--
until so quickly, so unexpectedly, his good fortune came to a sudden halt as
bullets were fired, hitting Kennedy and others as they passed through the hotel
kitchen.
I don’t
remember how long we watched this unfolding horror on the television screen, but it was well into the night. There was no thought of going to bed, and it
soon became clear that Kennedy’s head wound was very serious. He was not expected to survive.
As the sun brought
the beginning of light that morning, I knew most of the country would be waking
up to this terrible news of another leader falling victim to a shooter’s
malicious intent. Martin Luther King,
Jr., had been killed not even two months before as he stood among friends on a
motel balcony in Memphis, Tennessee. I
felt a strong desire to spare so many others the pain and sadness we already
felt and they would wake up to, but I knew I could not.
A few years
ago, I read a book called The Last
Campaign by Thurston Clarke. It was difficult
to read knowing only too well how this story about Robert Kennedy would
end. However, it was compelling to follow
Kennedy as he worked through his grief after his brother’s assassination and
finally came to believe he should run for the presidency himself.
A memorable revelation
of Kennedy’s character in the book is his response to the news of King’s death. Kennedy had already scheduled a rally in a
poor area of Indianapolis, Indiana, on the very next night. As people began to come to it, some were
already angry and ready to be violent, bringing guns, knives, clanging chains,
and bottles and cans of gasoline.
Kennedy had
been advised to just quickly announce King’s death and leave, but he chose to
come to the people as a peacemaker, a man who understood their pain and anger
because of his own devastating, personal loss.
He gave a seven minute speech which put before them the essential
choices: “You can be filled with
bitterness, and with hatred and a desire for revenge . . . Or we can make an
effort, as Martin Luther King did, to understand, and to comprehend, and
replace that violence . . . (with) compassion and love.”
According to Clarke, right after King’s
death, riots broke out in 119 American cities.
Widespread destruction left 46 people dead and 2500 injured. But in Indianapolis, “where race relations
were notoriously tense, no guns were fired or Molotov cocktails were thrown,”
making this city the only major one in America to escape the violence.
This morning’s news story connected
to Kennedy’s death definitely brought back memories of a night with friends
that turned surprisingly and terribly tragic.
However, it also reminded me of our continued calling as followers of
Christ to be peacemakers as Robert Kennedy tried to be that night in
Indianapolis so many years ago.
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