ted

i had to go. i'd been to St Particks as a teenager to honor Bobby. this was as critical a view. i dislike lines and crowds. i went to the Sox victory parade in '04 and the first one for the Pats in the snow. i was glad i went, but after waiting for hours on numb feet just to see the boats lumber by i was let down, bored wondering is-that-all-there-is-to-a-victory-parade? sure, it was good to plant my feet in honor of the hard-earned, long time coming, champs and to see the rock star athletes on display in real time. but once was enough. on the other hand i liked being in line to hear Obama speak during the campaign. the people, thousands upon thousands, psyched, inspired, happy, up and to be a part of something bigger than my routine, as if all of us were one. that was the last time i saw Teddy. he was bellowing on stage to introduce the new torch bearer. i'd also met him, years back, in a bar. shook his generous hand. 'good t meet ya, Senator...' etc. it was not that big a deal but something never forgotten. on the way to the JFK Library, on the T and looking out the window it seemed as if a lot of guys looked like him, overweight, chin up jaunty, toothy grin, with eyes on the sky and feet on the ground. but they weren't the man. no one was or ever will be. not in my lifetime. the line was as diverse racially as it could be in this ol' whitey town. there were tears wiped away under sunglasses, eyes downcast or uplifted or both and kind thoughts about strangers. i was gonna read to pass the time in the long line, but i didn't. i quietly inched towards the under sail like library with the rest. the Kennedy kids were there, thanking us for coming, for showing up to honor their grandfather, for loving the world he believed could be better even as dark forces conspired against it. inside the Smith room where i'd last seen Paul Krugman speak, lay the great man in state, surrounded by soldiers who didn't blink, by members of families who'd lost love ones on 9/11, who'd been connected to the Senator in loss and by members of the Kennedy clan who sat quietly on spindly metal chairs. we had to be there, all of us, to honor this storm of a man who outlasted so many hurricanes in his personal and public life. we need him now more than ever. every time, every time i hear the words: 'and the dream shall never die' tears fill my eyes.