December 2003

The end of the year 2003 saw us remembering the 40th anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s assassination. It had me look back. I had recorded my thoughts on the 30th anniversary in 1993. It was similar to a number of articles then and now answering the question: “Where were you when it happened?” I was in a courtroom in Philadelphia’s City Hall, the home of all the courtrooms then. I was representing a physician in a zoning matter. He had received a variance from the Zoning Board permitting him to have an office for his practice in his home basement. It was a common variance for such residential areas. The community association filed an appeal and it was denied. Two days later a hearing nevertheless was ordered. It apparently happened since the community association changed their counsel. They hired the former City Solicitor for the Zoning Board, and suddenly the Judge orders a hearing. I report all this to demonstrate how minor the legal matter was that occurred on that historic day. The counsel for association kept us there until near lunchtime with his history of constitutional rights of associations in America, and off and on in Philadelphia. It was pure balderdash with absolutely no relevance to the issue, which at this point really was “What made his honor remand his original denial of a hearing?” I had to believe it was not “what” but “who”, since his honor had little or no experience with Zoning matters he changed his mind when an expert filed the motion. I began to reply just as we broke for lunch. On returning around 2 PM we were surprised by all the noise in the corridors outside the courtroom. I was making some remarks when suddenly a clerk burst in from behind in his honor and whispered into his ear. We then heard those never to be forgotten words, “The President has been shot!” The case was continued and we all left. So this is where I was when Camelot came to an end. (Incidentally, a one-page order was issued some weeks later dismissing the appeal).

Since 1993 I learned that C.S. Lewis, died on the same day about the same hour. He is the author of such Christian classics as the “Screwtape Letters” and “Mere Christianity. The media would have reported his death had it not happened on the same day as JFK’s. But today more people will be recalling where they were on September 11th rather than November 22nd.

The anniversary brought another incident back into the news. It was my brother, Father Dick’s visits with Jackie Kennedy after the assassination. Dick was a Jesuit priest who taught at Georgetown University. There was a great deal of loose talk about his divulging a confidence but all without any foundation. His private journal apparently recorded some conversations with Jackie regarding taking her life. The papers containing these statements were released, without proper authority, to a writer who was writing a life of Jackie. It was without authority since Father Dick in his lifetime had given a power of attorney specifically over those papers to his nephew, James Allen, an attorney. The Jesuit Community ignored it though Jim sought on several occasions after his death to meet with them regarding the papers. They casually and arbitrarily transferred them to Georgetown University who released them to the writer. The media jumped on what look like sensational news but was not. The University ignored the confidentiality of Dick’s private journal. In Dick’s autobiography, “My Path to Peace and Justice” there is a chapter entitled “Georgetown and the Kennedys”. In it we learn that Dick went to Georgetown in 1961. The athletic director, Father Hoggson asked him to be the freshmen tennis coach and acting Varsity coach. Father Hoggson had known Dick since 1932 when Dick had entered the Jesuit order. He knew of his tennis playing ability and successes in High School. But Dick notes, “This would hardly qualify me to be a college coach (but I) was glad to accept the offer — an offer that would alter my life in a dramatic way” Sometime later he received a phone call from someone saying she was Ethel Kennedy. She asked if he could provide tennis instructions for Mrs. Kennedy’s children. He did not believe the caller so asked her to give him her phone number and he would call her back. He checked and found the phone number was “unlisted”. When he called back Ethel laughingly answered and thus began a long relationship with the Robert Kennedy family. On the day of John’s funeral Dick received a call from Jackie asking him to her home in Georgetown. “She wanted to talk to me”. So he went and talked with her. Later, he got another phone call from a “Mrs. Kennedy”. Dick believing it was Ethel returned the call only to learn it was Jackie. Jackie told him that “Ethel had recommended me as a tennis instructor. Jackie and I agreed to meet at Robert’s house for instructions….” This is what the autobiography says about those meetings. ” We kept no score and talked as we played. She had alot of incisive questions about the resurrection, eternal life, glorified bodies, God’s knowledge of the future. I did what I could to supply answers. When I got back to Georgetown, I looked for better answers in books and consulted theologians. The next day during our conversation I told her what I had learned.” This is Dick’s public record of his conversations with Jackie. The book was published in 1996 and was available for anyone wishing to know what Dick recorded about those conversations. His private journal should have remained just that “private’, but due to the lack of concern exercised by Georgetown University the alleged “suicide talks” would never have been made public.

Kennedy was the only presidential candidate whose candidacy caused me to seek others to vote for him. I recall standing on the street corner of 52nd & Markets Streets in Philadelphia speaking to people why they should vote for him. I never got to meet the candidate. The closest I ever came to him was when his campaign caravan inched up Broad Street seeking votes in Philadelphia. Later I became the proud possessor of an “authentically” signed photo of him addressed to my Dad. I say “authentically” signed since it read “To Richard McSorley from John Kennedy”, not John “F” Kennedy which was his machine signature. Father Dick had obtained it, as he would get for me one from Robert Kennedy signed “To Paul McSorley”. They both hung in my law office and today I believe are hanging in my daughter Suzanne’s law office. All these memories were revived by the appearance of a picture of Grandson Tommy McSorley on the front page of the “Harvard Gazette” December 2,2003, giving a present presidential candidate, Howard Dean, an button reading” Harvard’s for Howard”. I advised Tommy by email that I never got that close to a presidential candidate for whom I might think of voting. Unfortunately I was a political acquaintance to an alleged candidate for whom I would not have voted, Arlen Spector. He was referred to in my circle of friends as “Alternating Arlen” He would alternate between parties and principles depending on how they seemed to work in his favor.
“And there is the world around him, as always, a play of light and color: the extraordinary brilliance and surface effects of the light itself, in sun and moon and stars, in the dark shades of a glade, in the colors and scents of flowers, in the sheer diversity and abundance of chirruping, painted birds…there is the grandeur of the spectacle of the sea itself, as it slips on and off its many colors like robes, and now all shades of green, now purple, now sky-blue…And all these mere consolations for us, for unhappy, punished men: they are not the rewards of the blessed.”

Such beautiful and expressive thoughts you suppose would come from the pen of a poet, a dreamer, or novelist, yet they do not. They come from the mind of a philosopher and rhetorician, (an advocate or lawyer in our language), Augustine of Hippo. The images are so clear they produce images of what he writes, They contradict our thoughts and experience with what we think to be the writings of a philosopher. It is one of the reasons, I suppose, that his writings continue even to this day to be sought after and read. This particular quote comes from ” The City of God ” which is not considered a casual reading. I have never read either the full text or many of its original parts, but got this glimpse from an Augustine biography. It is another example of the power of the pen. The philosophical thought, he caste in such language, is that these visions of beauty are there for the looking whether we are “rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, doctor, lawyer, or Indian chief.” They are not there for just the lucky few considered “blessed”. The gift of the world and its beauties is so easily dismissed and overlooked in the rush of time. Or as some else suggested “Isn’t it time we stopped and smelled the flowers?” The longer I live in Florida the more I appreciate the depth and breadth of nature and its beauty. We are almost daily given an awesome display of clouds, their shapes and sizes challenging you to describe what you picture. The water seemingly every where full of the ‘robes of color’ make it easy to thank the Lord for all these undeserved gifts. We make it a point with friends who visit, if we can, to go to a restaurant or area where we watch the beautiful sunsets. Many of the nights in the winter months are brightly lit by moonlight. On walks on some morning I catch a glimpse of the rising orange ball peeking up over the edge of the bay. All such views make us more and more grateful for all these “consolations around us”.

We will be thinking of all of you who read these notes whether family or friend as we celebrate the birth of Christ with Christmas. We wish we could be there on that morn to watch the eyes and faces of children as they look with wonder at what Old St. Nick brought to all the good boys and girls. It is always the way I think of Christmas. Christmas means to me a child and children celebrating the greatest birthday ever. We hope yours in filled with all the joy and happiness such times can bring. Have a Happy and Merry Christmas and we’ll be in touch next year! Pax Tecum!