An American tragedy
The death of John F. Kennedy Jr. has left millions of Americans suffering from grief and despair. They mourn his untimely demise as an American tragedy, as if a hero or a close family member had perished.
Yet very few of the millions of grieving Americans had personally known Mr. Kennedy. They never met him, never spoke to him, never knew exactly what he stood and lived for.
What exactly did Mr. Kennedy do to deserve this outpouring of sadness–this immense feeling of personal loss, adulation and posthumous support? Why do so many Americans feel this way toward Mr. Kennedy?
Was it an unfortunate tragedy?
Sure. But millions of Americans we don’t know die each and every year. What makes this case so special?
Was it because Mr. Kennedy was a rich man? Could that be what makes him so special, so important–so worthy of our sadness at his tragic and untimely demise?
But thousands of rich people die each and every year. Did Americans react the same way when oil baron Jean Paul Getty passed away in the 1970s? Did millions of Americans weep and send flowers to the Ford family when Ford founder Henry Ford finally kicked the bucket? Would Americans react the same way if Microsoft Chairman Bill Gates died tomorrow?
Clearly, wealth alone is not the issue.
Very well, what then? Fame perhaps?
When Elvis Presley died in the late 1970s, millions of Americans wept and paid homage to the King. But it wasn’t merely because he was famous. Elvis gave us something through his music. He gave us a certain feeling–a certain human experience. He gave us something in return–a reason for admiration, a payment for our adoration and respect.
What did John F. Kennedy Jr. ever give us in return? A salute. A handsome photo spread? Some photogenic video images perhaps?
What did he ever accomplish in his lifetime? George? A political magazine financed from a well-endowed Kennedy trust fund?
Nothing. Mr. Kennedy gave us nothing. Nothing, that is, except for the unearned.
Joseph P. Kennedy, the founder of the mythical Kennedy clan, was the real Kennedy to admire. A brilliant businessman, at the age of 25, he was one of the youngest bankers in American history. From a relatively humble Irish beginning, Joseph Patrick Kennedy rose to become one of the richest men in the world during his time. He became the first head of the Securities and Exchange Commission and later became US ambassador to England.
Joseph P. Kennedy was a great, hard-driving man. Without him, the Kennedys would have never been famous, and John Jr.’s father Jack would have never beaten Richard Nixon to become President of the United States of America in 1960.
Almost nothing in the world is more openly resented and yet more secretly envied and admired than inherited, unearned glamour and wealth. John F. Kennedy Jr. gave us this feeling: the feeling of royalty, the feeling of the unearned–the feeling that, yes, winning the lottery of life was indeed possible.
Through the telegenic media clips of Mr. Kennedy and his beautiful family, we alleviated our miserable, somber, quiet little lives of intense desperation, by basking in profligate, shameless vicarious royalty.
And that, my dear friends, represents the real American tragedy