×
×
homepage logo
SUBSCRIBE

Stiehm: Texas, it almost had to be you

By Jamie Stiehm - | Nov 10, 2023

Photo supplied

Jamie Stiehm

The most tragic rhyme in American history falls in November’s time, one century apart. President Abraham Lincoln gave the Gettysburg Address on Nov. 19, 1863; President John F. Kennedy died in Dallas on Nov. 22, 1963.

These events reach over endless bends in a profound dialogue like the mighty Mississippi River, cutting through North and South.

Just coincidence the picture-perfect Yankee president, Jack Kennedy of Massachusetts, was slain on the losing side of the Civil War? Texas was the largest Confederate slave state, known for its violent swagger. Sixty years ago, Dallas was seen as a lawless land, a serious safety risk.

The two men are connected in myriad ways beyond their shattering deaths. Both had great physical courage and were loved for their quick wit. They were men of the word: poetry, plays and their commanding prose. Kennedy quoted Robert Frost on the campaign trail (“Miles to go”) and Lincoln memorized Shakespeare (“Macbeth.”)

That their hearts and tongues could be stilled by a shot (or two) broke American hearts in the best and worst of times. We wept at the cruel losses, knowing nothing would be the same.

As Quaker human rights leader Lucretia Mott put it when the Civil War president was murdered (by a Southern sympathizer) on Good Friday upon victory, “We want the sun to be darkened and the moon not give her light.”

Yet there’s one overlooked gossamer thread. In the 1840s, ready to run for Congress, Lincoln argued against admitting Texas into the Union. Statehood for Texas would add huge heft to Southern slavery. President James Polk of Tennessee made Texas a plum in his cap in 1845.

Daring fate like a bronzed Greek hero, Kennedy pressed to travel there to court the Southern Democratic bloc. He had to hold Jim Crow Texas on the political map in 1964 to win a second term, but faced doubts about where he stood on civil rights. Kennedy hosted the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. at the White House after the March on Washington in August.

In a way, Kennedy was traveling to another country: the past. As Southern novelist William Faulkner told us, the past is always present in those parts — “not even past.” Bitterness lingered long after the winners felt the Civil War was “over.”

So you could say Kennedy’s fate was a very late outcome of the Civil War. Texas, it almost had to be you.

So we hear an autumnal rhyme as we mark Nov. 19 and 22, dates likely the darkest hours of the 19th and 20th centuries.

At the Civil War’s midpoint, Lincoln’s battlefield address saved the Union by redefining the conflict. In five minutes, the war became about expanding freedom (from bondage) and preserving democracy.

Lincoln, also a tragic hero, underwent a sea change since the divided nation took up arms in 1861. No longer a matter of the Union map, the war was infused with fresh new meaning.

Some say Kennedy came late to civil rights. Lincoln took time to move forward, never an abolitionist until he became the greatest abolitionist — emancipator — of all.

Standing on a ground of deep suffering, before the war was lost or won, Lincoln had to inspire the living and honor the thousands who fell in the theater of war.

The summer battle between the blue and gray armies made it the saddest site in the nation’s four score and seven years. On a day when the sun set early, brevity was the soul of eloquence for the 16th president.

With the grapes of wrath and grief hanging heavy, Lincoln did the work — to inspire, comfort and honor — magnificently.

Historian Douglas Brinkley says, “There will be a never-ending Niagara Falls stream of books about Lincoln and Kennedy.”

Looking back at the bright shining day Kennedy was murdered, we conjure a time when things were looking up after the dreary, caged and conformist 1950s.

New ideas and styles were shaking; artists, authors, musicians and scientists were invited to the White House; exhilaration filled the air during Kennedy’s Thousand Days.

The moment that slew something in all who remember 1963 — a state of grace — is coming back to haunt us in the noonday of November 22.

The author may be reached at JamieStiehm.com. To find out more about Jamie Stiehm and other Creators Syndicate columnists and cartoonists, please visit Creators.com.

Newsletter

Join thousands already receiving our daily newsletter.

I'm interested in (please check all that apply)