FOR THE FIRST TIME...

 He was young and energetic.  From his first political gambit he electrified listeners.  He was unabashedly Christian, fiercely patriotic, and unafraid of spirited debate. And we lost him to an assassin....  a coward crawling out of a patchwork of delusion with a weapon, skulking into history behind a rifle scope that ended the dreams of a generation inspired by youthful enthusiasm and the promise of a better tomorrow.  He left behind a little girl and a little boy, and a wife who witnessed firsthand his last breath.  And a nation was haunted, and changed, forever.

 

We called him JFK.  He was a Kennedy, the proud son of a family steeped in tradition, and in the love of God and country.  And when he was cut down by a bullet, for the first time, I felt the confusion of senseless violence.

 

Tonight I went to a football game and watched highschoolers celebrate the United States of America, and the first responders who protect us. But it wasn’t just any night. Many were dressed patriotically for the event, and there was a different vibe on and off the field, on the other side of another horrific event that affected us as a nation.

 

Charlie Kirk had been assassinated and these high school students had experienced their first national horror. He was young and energetic.  From his first political gambit he electrified listeners.  He was unabashedly Christian, fiercely patriotic, and unafraid of spirited debate. And we lost him to an assassin....  a coward crawling out of a patchwork of delusion with a weapon, skulking into history behind a rifle scope that ended the dreams of a generation inspired by youthful enthusiasm and the promise of a better tomorrow.  He left behind a little girl and a little boy, and a wife who witnessed firsthand his last breath.  And our nation seems once again haunted, and changed, forever.

 

These kids weren’t alive for 9/11. They certainly don’t remember the assassinations of JFK or MLK or RFK. So I am reflecting on the first time I faced some of those emotions, and I know how I felt. Because although that was over four decades ago, I can still feel the sense of loss and confusion.

 

Seeing the world through the eyes of a young person is like time traveling. Hopes and dreams and emotions swirl.  We want so much more for this new generation of Americans. And so much less. So much more to hope for and dream about. So much less to be fearful of and hesitant about.  So much more truth.  So much less delusion.

 

Today’s global landscape is a kaleidoscope of diversity and so much more open than the world in which I grew up. Open to new ideas. Carrying the capability of global communication at the touch of a keystroke. Kids today are intelligent, blessed with material possessions and access to information, and replete with the altruism endemic to youth.  I can only hope that these youngsters reflecting on this tragedy, the scope of which they are encountering for the first time, will try and find different ways to resolve differences. I pray they will see violence and war and hatred and vitriol for exactly the evil they are.

 

Because I’m acutely aware from personal experience that the first time will not be the last time.