The Beginning of Camelot and JFK | New England’s Gifts

Throughout 1960, most of New England and all of Boston were caught up in Senator John F. Kennedy’s campaign for the presidency. I was 15 that year, and for me and my friends, Kennedy was a hero whose course we followed with the enthusiasm of youth.

On the night before the election, he was to appear at a rally at Boston Garden. My older brother got tickets and took me. As we left the train at North Station, we were engulfed in a sea of people flowing toward the Garden; we barely managed to squeeze into our seats. While we waited for Kennedy to arrive, there were speeches and songs, and over them all, a vibrating buzz of expectation.

His arrival was preceded by a growing roar outside the Garden. When at last he appeared and moved into the spotlight, the noise rose to another level, an eight-minute nonstop ovation so deafening in its intensity that I experienceda unique sensation: I was shouting at the top of my lungs but couldn’t hear my own voice. I don’t remember what Kennedy said that night, but I’ll never forget the smile on his face during that outpouring of affection. That smile said, Whatever happens tomorrow, I’m home.

— Excerpt from “1960: The Last Campaign Stop,” by Rev. Michael Banks, June 1999