Bobby And My Mom

I recently reviewed Paul Fusco's RFK (Aperture) for photo-eye magazine and it is now online. When I first came across this book, I immediately thought of my mother. She was 20 years old in 1968 and was very much involved with the political and social events of those times. My mother is a good story teller, so before I wrote this review I called her up and asked her if she could tell me about Bobby and the events surrounding his death. We spoke for over an hour, my mother repeatedly broke into tears as she remembered those times. Here is a sample from my conversation with my mother:

When I asked her what Bobby’s death felt like, she told me, “You know how it feels when you really, really want something? Well I really wanted in 1968 for the country to change. I wanted equality and improvement in education, housing and jobs for African Americans, because even though there were these laws there was still tremendous inequity. I wanted the war to end, I wanted the country to come together and move forward in a positive way and Bobby Kennedy meant that could happen, he was the hope, he was the key, he was it, and when he died those hopes were dashed. And on the heels of MLK’s death weeks before it felt like the country was falling apart. Everything was falling apart.”

Read the complete review and many other interesting articles and interviews over at photo-eye magazine.

I could understand some of those tears. Because, right now, I have never cared more about an election in all my life. It has never mattered more to me and my generation, than right now. And, it is as if good were running against evil, and part of me that is so scared that our country might fuck it all up, because, after all, we are human and it is our nature.