Fifty-two years
ago I was privileged to play in the band for the Democratic National Convention
in Los Angeles, the one that nominated John F. Kennedy. At twenty-two years old
I was politically naive and only barely aware of what I was witnessing. In the
first days of this convention I was more interested and excited to be working
with the great and famous players of the Hollywood studios who made up most of
the band and were my adolescent heroes. There were, however, an amazing number
of Hollywood and political celebrities that were abundant in the behind the
scenes podium area where they and the band would relax.
I was also
impressed with the refreshments that were served in this backstage area; the
memory reminds me more of what I would later encounter in elegant embassy
receptions while touring with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. The water cooler,
for example, dispensed endless quantities of fresh orange juice and I found
myself standing in line with the likes of Frank Sinatra, Eleanor Roosevelt,
Adelei Stevenson, Hubert Humphrey and Rose Kennedy. The snacks were absolutely
gourmet; Los Angeles (Hollywood) had an exorbitant way of doing things,
especially, for the high profile events.
Not fully
understanding the political significance of what was taking place around me I
was amazed at the seemingly high school behavior of the participants of this
convention; it reminded me of what I had experienced not too many years before
in my high school’s football games with out-of-control screaming and cheering.
The convention
took place in, what then was, the new
Los Angeles Convention Center, until the last evening when it changed venues to
the Los Angeles Coliseum, where I had played my first professional services
with the Los Angeles Ram’s football team’s band and had fond memories of
working for the first time with those same well known Hollywood studio
musicians. But this time the Coliseum was quite different; the 80,000 seats
were full and there was a powerful anticipation of the arrival and acceptance
speech of John F. Kennedy.
I have had
experiences both before and after that evening of dealing with men of a very
high magnitude charisma, mostly great conductors, but I have never before or
since encountered charisma like I witnessed that night from John F. Kennedy. He
entered in an open convertible, which took one very slow lap around the track
and stopped right in front of the bandstand where he got out and took his seat
on a platform just behind the band. My tuba seat in the band and Kennedy’s seat
on the platform couldn’t have been more than ten feet apart; there was one
moment where he looked down at me, smiled and waved. Then came the moving
speech where he said “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you
can do for your country”?
The election in
the following November was the first election in which I voted; I’ve never held
the same excitement for an election since then, however, I felt it for Barack
Obama before the 2008 election, who showed that same very exclusive charismatic
power as Kennedy. Kennedy radiated an excitement, freshness and hope and America
needs that feeling again; perhaps Obama can offer and sustain it again. We need
hope and we need a dream again.
Tokyo
SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 2008
Revised September 5, 2012, Tokyo
