The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.1963, Síða 16

14
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Winter 1963
To President Kennedy, Nato was imperative as a defense measure, but
he looked further and to him there had to be an understanding and co-operation
among the nations of the North Atlantic.
Kennedy’s finest hour came in October 1962 in the Cuban crisis. He knew
the risk. He knew that Washington was a target high on the list of the enemy.
The President of the United States made clear what would be done. Nikita
Khrushchev decided to yield.
Although the President fully realized the need of military might at all
times, he always felt that more was needed than a show of strength to the enemy.
He impressed upon Khrushchev that he was always willing to negotiate but
would never negotiate from fear. Khrushchev began to understand Kennedy,
became willing to look, with him, for ways leading to permanent peace.
Through his every act of public service John Kennedy obliterated forever
the prejudice that had existed in the United States against one of his faith seek-
ing the highest office in the gift of the American people. That will reach out
and have its effect in the lessening of religious bigotry everywhere in the world.
After less than three years in office, President Kennedy had created a
sense of security that was felt rather than expressed. That sense of security had
penetrated the Iron Curtain, taken deep root in Yugoslavia and in the satellite
states of Europe.
Then, in one awful moment of crisis, voices from all over the world
uttered, in one clarion call, what had been slowly gathering in the hearts of
mankind.
Heads of state expressed their shock and deep-felt grief. Women, near
and in far-off lands, wept. Acllai Stevenson cried: “God help us.” Moscow radio
interrupted a concert of classical music and then played funeral music until mid-
night sign-off. A Yugoslav top commentator announced the tragic death with a
tremor in his throat. London TWTWTW, often irreverent in satire and witti-
cisms, in solemn form gave expression to a sincere feeling of reverence and of loss.
A negro bared the depth of feeling of many millions when he said: “He was
the President of our Hopes.”
The most penetrating effect of the scene in Washington was the silence.
Yet it but represented the poignant silence in many lands on many continents.
The tragic moment of death had become a triumph, a silent outburst of
approval of what three short years of lofty service had begun. He, who was laid
down in a coffin in Arlington National Cemetery, had become the oriflamme
of a crusade to starry heights.
With a clear understanding that something much more had taken place
than the passing of someone to the Beyond, Jacqueline Kennedy placed a flame
beside the grave that it may forever burn and, as it flickers, light the symbol
that her husband had become.
—W. J. Lindal,