When Memory Lane and History Intersect

 

Lately, I have been taking a lot of strolls down Memory Lane because I can’t go much anywhere else. When, a few days ago, a good friend gave me some honeysuckle to plant in my garden, I was reminded of the sweet honeysuckle of my youth. We used to pick the flowers and remove the stamens to suck the nectar, as sweet as penny candy, better because it was free. 

 Sweet honeysuckle, sweet memories. Others are neither sweet nor good. On our block on Greenwood Hill, we had a bully. I suppose every block has one. One fall, he piled dead leaves over a bed of rocks, grabbed me and threw me in. I fell on my back. I remember how much it hurt. 

I have especially vivid memories of autumn 1960, an exciting time in American political history. Republican Vice President Richard M. Nixon was running against Massachusetts Senator John F. Kennedy, the Democrats’ candidate, and even we kids got involved in that year’s presidential race. Our politics were simple: our parents’ candidate was our candidate and on Edwards Avenue, supporters of the Grand Old Party, age 12 and younger, battled it out with Democrats the same age.

That year, both candidates came to town and I got to see them. Nixon spoke at the parking lot on Claude A. Lord Boulevard. Kennedy rode through town in a convertible. I was standing on N. 3rd Street and he was so close I could have touched him. He was handsome, he beamed when he smiled, but he was not my candidate. My parents were Republicans. 

That election was one of the closest in American history and many fierce battles were fought in the weeks leading up to it, including the first televised presidential debates.  

On the local level, both parties were engaged in a city-wide poster campaign. Vote straight Republican! Vote straight Democrat! The two candidates’ faces were everywhere and hardly a surface, be it a utility pole or a billboard, was bare. Also, individuals put up posters on their front lawns or tacked them to the garage door. 

 In the weeks leading up to the election, my grandmother passed on to me some words of wisdom I remember still today: Never will there be a Catholic in the White House. From her point of view, Kennedy was the enemy. Voting for him was like voting for the pope! 

 I’ll admit, I didn’t know what to make of that. Many of my girlfriends were Catholic. They did not seem to represent a threat. However, their parents were Democrats and at least until election day, we were in opposing camps. 

My best friend was Republican. She had an older brother who had a lot of Republican friends. Those boys liked to boss younger kids around. They organized us into a gang of poster-vigilantes and we ran around the neighborhood tearing down Democrat signs. 

At the time, I was 7 years old and knew two things about politics: 1) my family was Republican; 2) no Catholic would ever be President (heed my grandmother’s words!). Mostly, I was a follower. When the big kids said run, I ran. If they pulled down Kennedy’s smiling face, so did I! 

 

Walking home from school, we pulled down posters. Playing outside before supper, we pulled down more. It was fun. Random destruction gave me an exhilarating sense of freedom. I grabbed the corner of a poster and let it rip. Pulling down one, I wanted to pull down another. It was certainly easier to destroy than to construct. 

Then one evening when I was at it all alone, a man came up to me and asked me what I was doing. 

 Well, it was obvious, wasn’t it? I was pulling down posters of John F. Kennedy. He was a Democrat. My parents were Republicans. I didn’t want the opposing side to have a chance. 

The man was a Democrat. He asked me how I would feel if he pulled down a poster of Nixon. Frankly, a part of me couldn’t have cared less. All the fun was in the destruction, but my 7-year-old instincts told me he had a point. I felt guilty. He wanted to look at his candidate. Surely my parents wanted to look at theirs. Shouldn’t they all have a chance? 

 As we moved closer to election day, we children insulted each other by shouting “Democrat” or “Republican” at our friends, depending on our parents’ allegiance. We knew nothing about party platforms or the ideas of the candidates. Republicans were elephants; Democrats were donkeys. Our parents gave us cute little animal pins. 

 I don’t remember watching, but Kennedy won the first presidential debate hands down. He had presence, he was articulate and his ideas resonated with all segments of American society. He wanted an educational system second to none. He wanted all Americans to enjoy full Constitutional rights regardless of race or origin. He wanted the United States to lead in the cause of freedom. 

 Listening online to the introductory statements of the candidates, I was most struck by a reference Kennedy made to “good neighbors.” To be a good neighbor to allies around the world, he claimed, we must first learn to be good neighbors at home. 

Recently, a childhood friend from Schuylkill County told me something that disturbed me. She wanted to put a “Biden for President” poster on her front lawn but did not dare. She was not afraid some kid would pull it down. She feared an attack against her home. She also told me a lot of name-calling was going on and this time it was the adults, not the children, with ugly things to say. 

When I was 7 years old, I was neither a good neighbor nor a good citizen. Anyone for Kennedy was no good! Anybody who did not think like my parents did not deserve to have his face pasted to a pole. Lucky for me, I grew up. 

 In 1960, Kennedy and Nixon debated with dignity. There was no name-calling. They engaged in a debate of ideas. Each expressed his vision for his country whose freedom, because of the Cold War, was at stake. 

In 2020, we vote again for our president. Let’s hope that the freedom to debate and disagree, without resorting to name-calling, is still alive today. How sad for our country if such debate, like childhood memories, can be found only on Memory Lane.