Sherman Says: Dallas emerges from the shadow of the day Kennedy was shot, 50 years ago
Tuesday December 3, 2013 | By:Dave Sherman |
DALLAS — When I was still in grade school, I had a large metallic game board, depicting the United States. It was a geography game, teaching not only what the individual states looked like, but also where they belonged,on the map.
Each time I assembled the country, I left one state off the map.
In the heartbreak that followed the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, on the streets of Dallas on the afternoon of Nov. 22, 1963, I felt Texas wasn’t worthy of being part of the country. Those people were bad people. They had killed the president.
Being a historian, as well as a journalist, last week I ventured to Dallas, for the first time, to be part of the city’s official commemoration of the life of the 35th president. A chill went up my spine when the flight attendant said, in her sweet southern accent, “Welcome to Dallas.”
I had researched a detailed story published last week by Bee Group Newspapers, featuring reminiscences of that dark day. I spoke to three people who had seen Kennedy scant hours before he was shot – even one who had shaken his hand at a rally in Fort Worth.
There was no shortage of stories from people my age and older. Everyone seemed to know, with crystal-clear accuracy, exactly where they were when the bulletin came from Dallas. And it really hurt to remember.
My arrival at Dealey Plaza on Thursday afternoon was filled immediately with a replenishment of all the words and images I had absorbed during the past 50 years: the Texas School Book Depository Building, now known as the Sixth Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza, and the infamous grassy knoll. To walk there was a profound experience.
A mix of languages and opinions swirled in the air above me, as foreign journalists, conspiracy theorists and the curious roamed the grounds where Abraham Zapruder had come to see one of the most admired men in the world. What he saw through the lens of his movie camera at 12:30 that afternoon still haunts us.
The Sixth Floor Museum’s exhibits are comprehensive and unbiased, presenting what we know, what we think we know and what we wish we knew more about.
If you’re my age and you stand along Elm Street and don’t feel emotion in your throat, you don’t have a soul.
Friday, I was there, 50 years to the day, at the hour and in the place where my decision to become a journalist was forged. It was a great decision.
Prior to my trip, I reached out to some other people. I found a Dallas firefighter, through social media, who dabbles in photography and is quite good at it. Unbelievably, Tony Gerber was working at Station 17 the day before the anniversary and welcomed me to pay him a visit. I didn’t want to be one of those obnoxious tourists who stops at a firehouse just to see the trucks. He laughed, and later, invited me to stay for dinner.
We sat in the truck bay and talked about our shared experiences as if we had known each other for years. Another firefighter wrestled with a crossword puzzle while a third, who had been given the honor of cooking that evening, began breading chicken strips.
Then, the bells. A reported house fire. Chairs and tables scattered as the pumper and the ladder truck roared to life. Gerber yelled from somewhere across the truck bay, “Dave – do you want to come along?”
Who wouldn’t? The call did not amount to much and the only real damage was a delay in eating dinner. Nine of us devoured fried chicken with thick white gravy, fried okra, mashed potatoes, corn and some biscuits that had been in the oven just a little too long. It was the best meal I had, during the entire three-day trip.
I left Texas knowing that Dallas really does have a heart, after all.
David F. Sherman is managing editor of Bee Group Newspapers and a columnist for the Weekly Independent Newspapers of Western New York, a group of community newspapers with a combined circulation of 286,500 readers. Opinions expressed here are those of the author. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.