Warning! This contains references to the final violent moments of John F Kennedy’s life.
A man gets off a plane in November with his wife all dressed in pink and he is called a Traitor. There are black bordered adverts in the local press where 7 reasons are given for why he is wanted for Treason. On a bright Autumn day it’s this black cloud of dissent that forever lingers on the horizon. And in the mind.
“Mr President, you can’t say that Dallas doesn’t love you!” says the wife of the Texas Governor. Who could argue with such a sentiment? Indeed, to calm troubled waters, was the reason that he was there. To be dead – in the heart of Texas – was how he ended up.
The first bullet hits Kennedy in the throat. The second blows his brains out.
The vast majority of Dallas residents, and indeed the wider world are shocked and appalled by witnessing the senseless slaughter of a World leader. A handsome man – a charismatic man; a husband and a father – cut down in his prime. A man who faced down the might of the Soviet Union when the Earth tetered on the brink of World War 3 and Nuclear Armageddon.
The vast majority of people are dazed and confused. A whole nation undergoes a collective trauma. Everyone can remember where they were when they first heard the news. A thousand conspiracy theories are born.
The people on the fringes of Dallas society are not dazed or confused. They are sure about their intent. They whoop and holler and discharge guns in the air. They drink to his passing. Their rejoinder: ‘Camelot in Smithereens.’
To them – Kennedy is a Pinko. A Liberal. A Fornicator; An Adulterer. A Papal Stooge. Sent to bring down a great nation. To take away their guns. These cries are still heard today 59 years later . As Kennedy himself once said about Dallas: Welcome to Nut Country.
There is a Double Image in Dallas. It’s outward face and it’s internal psyche. There are multiple Lee Harvey Oswald’s moving around Dallas. Is he a Communist? A Marxist? A Right Wing Nut? He loves Fidel Castro but hangs around with known Fascists. He is truly a riddle wrapped in a mystery encased in an enigma.
Dallas is the whole world in a microcosm. Big…Bold…Brash. Where the Truth gets splintered by a bullet. Where one man lost his life to the insecurity felt by others.
Windsor Writers' Group 