Tonight on the Last Word with Lawrence O’Donnell, the last few minutes of the show were given over to a very touching remembrance of Robert Kennedy’s short victory speech after winning the California Primary in June of 1968, his assassination, the news reports of his death, and then of a short clip of Ted Kennedy giving his brother’s eulogy.
I was just 8 years at the time and it this is one of my earliest memories of the news. Although I have seen these events in other platforms before, the presentation on Lawrence’s show tonight, while brief, was probably among the most heartfelt presentations I have ever seen on the final day of RFK’s life. Again, Thank You!
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I was 7, and we walked up the hill two blocks from my house to look over the runway at LAX where the flag-draped coffin was loaded on to the airplane for the flight back to the East Coast.
A tower of strength was he — so tall !
Yet not too great to touch the small;
He ran with zest his earthly race,
With helping hand and fearless grace.
And on his way —
He paused to wipe the weary brow
Of all who toiled with pen — or plow;
For him, no color barrier stood;
It never should; it never could
Stand in his way.
The path he trod was rough but right
And freedom’s cause could make it light;
Relentlessly, he journeyed on
Through darkest night to reach the dawn
Of a new day.
“Come, follow me!” he turned to say;
“I’ll hold your hand if you should stray
From paths of duty — honor — right—
The goal we seek is just in sight
If we but pray.”
The torch he passed to us we claim
With pride and courage in his name;
The crown he won with sweat and tears
Will lead us on through all the years —
To peace through love.
Dear one, who sleeps in hallowed ground
We cannot — must not — let you down;
For you who friend and foe acclaim
The flame eternal will not wane
But guide us on.
Your dream must see reality,
The land you loved not shackled be
By chains of prejudice and hate —
But be reborn before too late —
In Brotherhood.
I remember watching the news bulletin of Bobby’s assassination with my late mother in June of 1968 when I was 17. Shocked into silence I left the room and cried myself to sleep that night.
When I awoke I found on my pillow Mom’s hand written tribute to my hero that she had composed the night before to comfort me and the nation.
Those we love never die. They live on in us, forever.
Fred Rich LaRiccia