Snapping Out a Salute

      I was in the ninth grade, and I happened to stay home from school that day; the only day I missed that year. I was watching television.

      Suddenly, the broadcast was interrupted by the well-known anchorman, Walter Cronkite. And the rest of the story has to be one of the top ten events of the 20^th Century. President Kennedy had been assassinated.

     This event was, beyond any doubt, the first “national trauma” to which I was ever exposed. I was 14, and as innocent as the driven snow. “Leave it to Beaver” and “Dobie Gillis” were as provocative as it got. Dad and Mom going to church, eating a nice pot roast at the dinner table. Doing a half hour of homework at night. Petting a cocker spaniel. Stopping by the soda shop after school. Watching The Dick Van Dyke Show. (Funny, Rob and Laura actually looked like the President and First Lady!)

     But everything seemed to change on that November day in 1963. The innocence of a nation seemed to evaporate.

     Many of you, perhaps most of you, don’t remember this event. A little math informs me that you’d have to be almost fifty to distinctly remember that day.

     There are those days in our national history, and in our own personal lives who challenge our belief in the providence of God, (and sometimes our own sanity). I will always remember the long procession; the parade that included the caisson, and riderless horse. I can still imagine “John John” stepping forward a half-step, and raising his right hand to the edge of his brow. Strangely enough, Jackie had taught him that little salute a week before that dark day in Dallas. John John kept saluting with his left hand.

      John Jr. keeps marching around in circles, a little soldier’s helmet on his head. His Mom is giving instructions, and laughing all the while. That arm snaps up, and he salutes. Again and again.

      If we live very long, we will experience a host of national and personal traumas; those raw events that challenge our belief in providence. But I think we are the better for it, when we summon up “that something” within us which allows us to go on… though hesitantly.

     And so like John John. Stepping forward, and in the midst of sheer annihilation and confusion,

     ...snapping out a salute.

 By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Musings"