Jackie

I'm not really sure why, but I have always felt very affected by the JFK assassination. I wasn't alive, my mother and father were in grade school. My family doesn't really discuss it or seem that scarred by it.

Maybe it starts with Jackie. I could literally look at pictures of Jackie Kennedy all day long. She seemed to embody human grace at all times. One second, a regal woman in a ball gown, the next a mother in a shift dress letting her children play in the White House fountain. She was everything all at once.

It could be the absolute devotion she showed to her marriage; to a husband who was reportedly insensitive and unfaithful to her. Still, her commitment to her man, his career, her children, her privacy and American dignity in general are unparalleled. And it's funny, at the time my obsession with her began, I would have never pictured myself dating a JFK type, but boy, did that turn out differently. Aggressive side-part, charm and charisma all day long up in these parts. But far too many skeletons peeking out of his closet to be a politician, thankfully.

I think what honestly attaches me most to them and to her is the utter shock and grief that must have pressed down on her this day 50 years ago. They say that when you experience stress or hard times with a man, it bonds you closer together. The Kennedy's had their share of stress long before that day in Texas. They had come through it together. Still smiling. Still united. And then in one instant....to look over and see your husband clutching his bleeding neck. To go from attempting to help him or understand what's happening to watching a bullet crash into his head right before your eyes. Holding him shattered and bleeding to death in your lap. Watching his body rushed into the hospital. Watching his casket loaded into a hearse. Watching his Vice President sworn into his spot before you have even changed your suit or washed his blood off your legs. Knowing a nation has to deal with an enormous loss and change, but you have to be pulled together enough to tell your children that they lost their father. I honestly can not imagine. And when I try, my eyes fill with tears.

The media speaks of the assassination often as "Innocence Lost" or "The Fall of Camelot". In some ways, it really was, but in other ways I feel the opposite. Jack Kennedy was not innocent. But his wife loved him anyway.  She loved him and supported him tirelessly and fought to keep their matters private and their marriage intact and then she had to watch close up as a bullet killed him. The more time you spend with a man you love, the more defensive of him and devoted to him you become. To watch the object of your profound dedication murdered beside you is one of the absolute worst things I can imagine. And Jackie Kennedy is a testament to the strength of a woman to not crumble in the wake of November 22, 1963.