himself. He possessed an almost fantastic knowledge of history-and, more important, he fully understood the lessons that lie therein for all those who will but search for them. He was confident of himself, and rightly so. He was confident and morally certain that the things he believed in and the programs he espoused were right for our country and for our people.

He knew that there were no swift and simple solutions to today's complex problems, and he rightly warned us against confusing rhetoric with reality or the plausible with the possible. He was in a very real sense, the ultimate personification of the practical idealist.

He never shrank from responsibility. He welcomed it. The energy, the faith, the devotion which he brought to this endeavor did light our country. The tributes from around the world indicate this light was seen from afar.

With dedication, courage, and sacrifice, with a good conscience his only sure reward, with history his final judge, he did go forth to lead the land we love.

The now famous admonition of the inaugural address: "Ask not what your country can do for you ask what you can do for your country," was a challenge new to many Americans, but a way of life to John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Near the close of this address, President Kennedy spoke these prophetic words:

In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than in mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course.

In that same address, he said:

Now the trumpet summons us again.

He called on us to continue the struggle against the common enemies of mankind—tyranny, poverty, disease, and war. More than any of us, he answered that summons. With characteristic vigor, he threw himself into the fight until finally he gave his all-his life.

The sound of another trumpet echoing taps over his final resting place told us our leader had fallen. Yet the struggle to which he gave his life continues unabated. The tasks in which he asked us to join him were not finished in the first 1,000 days. They were not finished in his lifetime. They remain a challenge to every American to give more of himself to finish what we began with him.

Since the afternoon of November 25, all of us must walk in the shadow of the small, but incredibly brave 3-year-old boy who stood on the steps of St. Matthew's Cathedral and delivered that heart-wrenching last salute to one of the truly great men of our time—the 35th President of the United States-his father.

For generations, this small boy's family has served this Republic, enriched its history and all humanity. Its members have made lasting contributions to our national life.

Few families in American history have better symbolized the heritage, the traditions, the opportunities, the struggles, the courage, the achievements, and the meaning of our great country.

Our tribute, then, must be to the living as well as to the dead-particularly to Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy, whose rare courage helped sustain us all in that terrible time.

Few of us fully realized how this extraordinary man was strengthened by the presence at his side of a truly extraordinary young woman. Many have paid tribute to her, but my good friend and former colleague in the House of Representatives, Otis Pike, of New York, said what I should have wanted to say when he recently wrote:

At a time when America should have been comforting her, she comforted America. At a time when she should have leaned on America for strength, America received strength from her. By her courage, her faith, and her fortitude she set a standard for the bereaved of all lands for all times.

By every aspect of her conduct and her bearing, a single, widowed mother poured strength into all Americans, and from the vast majority of Americans respect and love were returned.

I humbly ask Mrs. Kennedy, our colleague, Senator Ted Kennedy, the Attorney General of the United States, Bob Kennedy, our former Ambassador to the Court of St. James's, and the other members of his family, to allow us to join in their prayer:

Dear God, please take care of your servant, John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Let us be grateful for his life. Let us recognize that the lives of all of us, of his children and of mine, have been enriched. Let us weep with his widow, salute with his son, and continue, as his family does, to serve our country through responsible leadership.

ADDRESS BY

Hon. Harrison A. Williams, Jr.

OF NEW JERSEY

Mr. President, until November 22 we thought that we would share many more days with John F. Kennedy. We thought we could continue to draw strength from his strength, wisdom from his wisdom, and inspiration from his genius. We could not know that the thousand or so days he gave to us as President were to be painfully precious because they were to be so few. He had not yet given all he had to give us, and yet he was taken from us.

Perhaps it was this that made the news so unbelievable when it came. John F. Kennedy had met many crises in his life, and always he had emerged with greater strength. He had escaped death during wartime combat. He had survived painful personal afflictions and had overcome them. He had calmed our Nation when enemies put weapons of destruction close to our shores. Time and time again, he had helped us keep our own frailties in check, and we thought him stronger than any of us. His life, his leadership seemed to be secure to us, and yet both were taken by two bullets from an assassin's rifle.

We in this body are trying today to tell what that loss means to us. We are also trying to describe, I believe, the gifts that John Kennedy his fellow citizens in his lifetime.

gave

These gifts are all that make our sadness tolerable. We must think of them.

Few of us will forget the cold Inauguration Day that began his administration. As the winds whipped about him and his audience, the new President spoke of our national mission. Man, he said, now has the power to abolish all forms of life, but this clear danger has toughened the will of those who believe that only democracy can create a world of law. The President invited every freeman to find his own way of making freedom stronger, and he spoke of sacrifice and danger. But sacrifice and danger, said our President, would make our ultimate triumph more inspiring to us and to those in nations not yet free.

John F. Kennedy accepted his own responsibility more completely than any of us. He was optimistic enough to call for a Peace Corps and

an Alliance for Progress. He was determined enough to build new military strength for our Nation, and it is that strength that has led us to the beginnings of disarmament. He could not stand waste of human energies, and so he asked new programs to combat unemployment and waste of talent. He could not tolerate injustice, and so he asked for the broadest action yet taken against manmade inequalities.

Many men for many years will study the messages he sent to Congress, and we will measure our accomplishments against his requests.

Our 35th President will be remembered for what he was, as well as for what he did. We here in this Chamber have many memories of the days we spent here with him. We remember the book he wrote about six men who preceded us here.

John F. Kennedy was an authority on courage because he had his own great share of it. Each of the men he wrote about had to make decisions under great pressure, and each of them could have found reasons to take the less dangerous path. But not one of them did, and the Nation was stronger because they did not. In the White House, on many lonely occasions, John F. Kennedy made other decisions, and the world could be grateful that he was there to make them. Disciplined and compassionate, he performed the possible while he yearned for even greater accomplishment.

Mr. President, each one of us will remember John F. Kennedy in many different ways. We will remember him addressing Congress and the Nation; we will remember him at press conferences and at speaker's podiums in Washington and in city squares, in meeting rooms with chiefs of state, and on the White House property, his hand closed fast on his daughter's hand, or playing with his delighted young son.

We were interested in everything he did because we liked him as much as we respected him. And this, perhaps, is the best tribute to him.

Our loss is all the more cruel because we lived in his time. Future generations will know of our grief and they may understand it, but only we can say that we knew John Kennedy as a President and a friend. This gives us comfort as we bid him goodbye, and we need comfort now.

Mr. President, many fine editorials and articles about the late President appeared in New Jersey newspapers soon after his death. I will limit my

remarks and ask that they be made a part thereof. I would like to draw attention to the comments about the courage of Mrs. Kennedy during her ordeal. To all that her husband gave her Nation, she has added one more magnificent

memory.

[From the Trenton (N.J.) Times]

A GREAT LEADER IS MOURNED MANY WAYS, BY MANY PEOPLE

(By William J. O'Donnell)

President John F. Kennedy meant many things to many people.

To the little man, he was the champion of the downtrodden.

To the oppressed, he was the knight who would unshackle their bonds.

To the youth of the Nation, he was the symbol of hope and courage.

To the statesman, he was the man of peace.
To the politician, he was the tireless fighter.

To the Communist enemy, he was the roadblock to their ambitions for conquest.

To the average American, he was a loyal husband and kindly father.

Now this man of achievement belongs to the ages. This man of peace has been destroyed by violence. This man of kindness has been taken from us by hate. This man of thoughtfulness has been slain by the unthinking. This man of loyalty has been snatched away by a traitor.

To this reporter, John F. Kennedy signified all that was alive and vibrant in this challenging world. He was a man to instill confidence. He was a man to instill courage. He was a man to instill virtue and character. He was a man.

We asked others what John F. Kennedy meant to them. This is what they said:

A U.S. Congressman, Frank Thompson Jr.: "He was first a personal friend, but most important he was the symbol of the whole structure of our Government. To me he was all the American people."

A Jewish rabbi, S. Joshua Kohn: "The leader of this youthful dynamic country. One who looked forward to a better world and had the confidence to make this world a reality in the true religious spirit of all mankind."

A mayor of a city, Arthur J. Holland: "A personification of the confident and able leadership needed by our Nation and the world. A man who will always symbolize for youth a call to the pursuit of excellence. A great man who always thought of the little man."

A Federal Judge, Arthur S. Lane: "John F. Kennedy was a splendid young American, possessed of great courage, intelligence and devotion to his fellow men."

A Catholic priest, Msgr. John E. Grimes: "President Kennedy was an inspiration to me and a moving example of what is expected of a true American and a genuine Christian gentleman. He loved this country. He loved his fellow human beings. He dearly loved his family."

A housewife and mother, Mrs. John M. Smith of 54 Smithfield Avenue: "A good man is gone. He would have been a great President. His death is a great tragedy to me."

A president of a university, Robert F. Goheen: "John Kennedy was to me, above all, a man who combined clearsighted intelligence and steady commitment to the ideals of human dignity, freedom and justice. In the face of tangled and often highly recalcitrant circumstances, at home and abroad, he did much to uphold those ideals and to advance their realization in concrete terms."

A Negro leader, the Reverend S. Howard Woodson, Jr.: "To me President Kennedy was the herald of a new breed of political leadership. His forthright acts which strengthened the cause of human dignity, freedom and equality the world over translated beautiful political platitudes into realities. His death is a tragic testimony of the continuing existence of man's inhumanity to man."

A Republican lawyer, Irving H. Lewis: "Even though I am of different political faith, it is my unalterable conclusion that John F. Kennedy was a great manunselfish in his ideal for the betterment of all mankind. His years of public service will make an indelible imprint on human affairs as long as man's accomplishments are recorded."

A Trenton barber, Peter J. Pulone, 809 Stuyvesant Avenue: "I looked upon him as my Commander in Chief. Whatever he said, I believed and followed it as an order."

A Protestant minister, the Reverend Allan R. Winn: "He bore the Nation's standard for truth and sincerity, for purposeful progress in all human relationships. As Commander in Chief of our Armed Forces, he stood ready to commit our Nation to the defense of freedom and to my personal freedom. I greatly admired his courage and bear tribute to his integrity."

A State chairman of the Democratic Party, Thorn Lord: "To me President John F. Kennedy was the symbol of kindness and tolerance. I knew him as a man who understood the essence of the Presidency. I think of him as the light of our times. I remember him as the most generous person I have ever known. I admire him as the most tremendous driving force of the 1960's."

[From the Asbury Park (N.J.) Evening Press]

PRESIDENT KENNEDY

A sorrowful Nation mourns the passing of its President and senses profound shame over his assassination. We had hoped that the entire Nation had grown so civilized that political opposition and even hatred would express itself only in the ballotbox. That, indeed, is the philosophy to which the great masses of people in this aggrieved Nation subscribe. Only maniacs fail to comply.

John F. Kennedy served as President for less than 3 years, and during that brief term he fulfilled his responsibilities with devotion. Even those who quarreled with his policies recognized a sincerity and fortitude

that evoked admiration. His experience in the Senate had given him valuable training for the Presidency and for the aggressive leadership that he offered in his campaign for election.

Seldom has a Chief Executive been encumbered with more burdensome responsibilities. International tensions were coupled with domestic problems to challenge his wisdom and test his courage. Only history will determine the degree of success that his administration achieved. But his contemporaries can attest to the vigor and enthusiasm and conscientious effort that delineated his record.

The death of a President is always a national tragedy. In view of his comparative youth and the promise of future achievement, the passing of President Kennedy becomes an especially grievous loss. And the fact that an assassin's bullet should have claimed him carries the Nation's sorrow to the ultimate depth.

[From the Newark (N.J.) Star Ledger]

OF MOURNING AND REDEDICATION

Today has been proclaimed a day of mourning. Americans everywhere will join in a heartfelt, sorrowful tribute to the Chief Executive so ruthlessly and viciously shot down by an assassin.

Now that the initial shock has been somewhat worn away by the inexorable process of time, the terrible enormity of the crime-with all its farflung ramificationsis only beginning to dawn on the American people. And they are realizing, too, that the deeper the tragedy the more difficult it is to truly do it justice.

The impact of the tragedy was further brought home to millions of Americans via the television sets in their living room. They saw the flag-draped casket bearing the remains of John Fitzgerald Kennedy move slowly on a horse-drawn caisson through the streets of Washington from the White House to the Capitol rotunda. They heard the regular beat of the hushed drums100 steps to the minute. And the mournful rhythm beat a tattoo the American people will not quickly forget. There have been few, if any, instances in history where so many people participated in a service marking so great a tragedy.

In many a living room yesterday it would have been hard to find a dry eye. The sight of Mrs. Kennedy, little Caroline at her side, bravely kneeling to kiss the casket of her husband will be etched for a long time on the minds of millions of Americans.

The loss Mrs. Kennedy suffered is, of course, a great one. But all of us also have suffered a great loss.

Mr. Kennedy served but a brief period in the White House. But it was an eventful period. Historians may be reluctant to pass final judgment at this early date. It was clear, however, since shortly after his inauguration that the Kennedy administration was to be earmarked by youth, vigor, intelligence, and determination to make a fresh attack on accumulated problems at home and abroad.

Seeing their young President in action, the American people had a growing confidence in his ability. Not

everyone agreed with him. But no one-least of all John F. Kennedy-would have expected or wanted unanimity. The American Government provides room for disagreement and diversity. This is one measure of its strength.

But there is no room for hatred of the type displayed by the assassin who ended the President's life. When it comes to hatred, there is only room for hatred of injustice and violence.

In his few years in the White House, President Kennedy sought to end injustice and inequality in the Nation and violence from abroad. And millions of American people are undoubtedly better off today because of his efforts.

It

By proclamation, today is a day of mourning. is also, by proclamation, a day of rededication. In their mourning, the American people should not overlook the obligation to rededicate their efforts to help make their country a better place for all its citizens—in a world secure in justice and freedom, removed from the threat of violence.

Perhaps such a utopia-of which man has dreamed for centuries cannot be achieved on this earth. But this was the aim of the Founding Fathers of this Nation. And it was the aim of John F. Kennedy.

Mr. Kennedy's tragic death may have helped sharpen the full realization of fundamentals to which Americans are accustomed to give lipservice. Now is the time for all to rededicate themselves to giving much more than lipservice to the high ideals on which this Nation was founded.

[From the Jewish News]

TIME FOR REDEDICATION

The lively sense of history and national purpose which motivated our beloved President John F. Kennedy is illustrated by an anecdote of which he was fond. As he related the story, on May 19, 1780, the noontime skies over Hartford, Conn., turned from blue to gray and by midafternoon had blackened so densely that men fell on their knees and begged a final blessing before the end came. The Connecticut House of Representatives was in session. And as some men fell down in the darkened chamber and others clamored for an immediate adjournment, the speaker of the house, one Colonel Davenport, came to his feet, and he silenced the din with these words:

"The day of judgment is either approaching or it is not. If it is not, there is no cause for adjournment. If it is, I choose to be found doing my duty. I wish, therefore, that candles may be brought."

In this spirit, and with the unerring instinct of a people profoundly dedicated to democracy, let us do as President Kennedy would have wished and stand in united support of the new administration. President Lyndon Johnson bears a heavy burden, one which was assumed under horrifyingly tragic circumstances. This above all is a time for each American to respond in the courageous Kennedy tradition, to bring candles to light the darkness, to refuse to adjourn despite the staggering loss of a great leader in the parliament of mankind.

Yet, even as we recognize how we must behave at this critical juncture, in our pain and mourning we grope almost blindly for an answer to the agonizing question: Why was he taken from us? We search as well for understanding of our own tears and we find a powerful suggestion of an answer in the perceptive words of James Reston in the New York Times:

"America wept tonight, not alone for its dead young President, but for itself. The grief was general, for somehow the worst in the Nation had prevailed over the best. The indictment extended beyond the assassin, for something in the Nation itself, some strain of madness and violence, had destroyed the highest symbol of law and order."

It is not enough merely to blame the lunatic fringe elements on the far left and far right as the bearers of this "strain of madness and violence." Out of expediency of one kind or another, too many of us have come to disregard clear-cut moral issues, The frenetic climate in which the extremist of any sort thrives has tainted an inordinately large area of our national life.

This extremism and indifference we must purge if we are to be true to those magnificent things for which President Kennedy stood. In his memory, and in the name of the sacred principles which he personified, let us rededicate ourselves to American democracy.

[From the Jersey Journal]

JOHN F. KENNEDY

You think all the things an editorial writer is supposed to think, the awful evil of political assassination, the terrible wantonness of it, the incomprehensible fate that lets a demented marksman obliterate a President, but you keep going back to a picture of a young, vital American, President, yes, but a family man like the fellow down the block having fun with the children, weighed down with great affairs, yes, but not so much as to miss the point of a joke and have a good laugh, holder of the most august temporal title, yes, but a man you talk with as easily as you talk to the fellow beside you in the coffee bar.

You keep thinking of when first you met him, before his nomination, it was in Washington and he had just finished a landmark speech to the American Society of Newspaper Editors in which he closed forever the question of a Catholic in the White House; you intercept him as he gets out the door and tell him: "Senator, I'm from the place that is going to give you New Jersey, Hudson County." His eyes light and he says: "Fine, Neil Gallagher has been telling me about it. I'm certainly glad to meet you." His handshake is strong, friendly but he looks so boyish you wonder will the people choose him over Dick Nixon. Then he moves on through the crush. You have had the seconds he can spare.

You see him that fall in Journal Square. A crowd has waited patiently in the November cold, the largest ever packed into the square, they say. Finally he arrives, hatless as usual. You have a good view because Arthur Knaster lets you and the photographers use the windows of his law office on the second floor of the Jersey Journal

building. You are just above and behind the grandstand and you see him come up, through the crowd, onto the stand and before the microphone. You remember how that wild hair stands up on the back of his head, and think bitterly now: "This is how he must have looked to the murderer through that telescope sight" but that night who could think of him slain? The roar of that crowd as he told them how they would help him win, then a farewell smile and he is away. This was the final rally of the long outdoor campaign, the votes will be all in in little more than 48 hours, when he comes this way again he will be President of the United States.

You remember the telegram just about a year later inviting you to luncheon at the White House with the President. He is host to editors from New Jersey. The guard checking you through, the walk up the drive to the front door, noticing some peeled white paint along the driveway wall, then into the Blue Room to wait. A few minutes later the President arrives and joins his guests with their cocktails. His is tomato juice. Through luncheon he explains how "this job" keeps him too far from the people. In effect he asked, "What do you hear?" The luncheon is lively with questions and answers. Once he discusses the movie "Advise and Consent," his tone implies he would not have cast Franchot Tone as the President. You lean across to him and ask: "Mr. President, you could not get that role?" He laughs and snaps back: "I was too busy." He talks about fallout shelters and world economics and Dick Hughes' chances against Jim Mitchell. He autographs his menu because Marty Gately's hero-worshipping teenager has asked you to bring back a souvenir for her. Leaving and shaking his hand, you say: “A year ago you were fighting hard to get this job. Now that you have it, what do you think?" Suddenly he looks much older, then half

whispers: "The weapons. The weapons." And you

know why he seems to have an invisible weight always upon him.

And only a few months ago, at another editors' meeting in Washington, a spring evening and cocktails and a reception at the White House. He has a light word. for everyone in the long line. A handshake and a word of greeting passes about Hudson and John Kenny and Bill Flanagan. The time moves on. Without suspecting, you have seen him for the last time. Six months later all that vitality and youth will be exchanged for a madman's bullet * and he will be a Commander in Chief slain for his country as truly as any man who ever died earning the Medal of Honor.

[From the Camden (N.J.) Catholic Star-Herald]

A PRESIDENT NAMED JOHN

Our age has been blessed by the presence of two Johns: Pope John XXIII and President John F. Kennedy. Both were loved and, of late, mourned bitterly in this most unhappy year of 1963. Yet the deeper sorrow was evoked by the death of our late President, not necessarily because he was greater, but because his demise was so untimely, so cruelly inflicted, so incredibly sudden.

What can we say of one whose memory has already been enshrined so fittingly by so many loving fellow