By John Durante
Just before halftime during a tumultuous 1968, an assassin felled Bobby Kennedy. His family chose to have a state funeral that culminated in a New York, high mass that was televised nationwide.
On this particular Saturday my father was scheduled for swing shift at the mill. On such days my mother prepared the “big” family meal for “noonish” to ensure for him pre-work sustenance and for her an end to the ceaseless children queries of “hey ma, when we gonna eat?” My sister, father and I were seated at the kitchen table. Though in failing health, Nono was adding tomato paste to his soup (it wasn’t soup till it was red)!
We were all paying close attention to the unfolding RFK funeral on a small black and white that sat adjacent to the kitchen table. As my still-active mother placed a heaping bowl of macaroni on the table she silently wept. It was the first time I could recall seeing either of my parents cry. I was eight.
This image has stuck with me for decades. But only recently have I come to understand the genesis of my mother’s emotions. The telling of the last chapter of the RFK story via eulogy, Roman Catholic religious sacrament and Walter Cronkite commentary (all extremely authentic communication channels in my house) was a compelling story. It had moved my mother to tears.
Forty-one years later as Bobby’s baby brother, Massachusetts Senator Edward Kennedy, was laid to rest, the emotional wallop of the Kennedy story produced a similar result. Early on a Friday evening with my lovely wife, I watched a grippingly poignant eulogy from Vice-President, Joe Biden. Known to be one of the most loquacious speakers in Washington, Biden’s authentic remembrance was personal, intimate and audience relevant. It moved my wife to tears.
Worlds and decades apart I had watched the power of the authentic story about two dead Senators produce a similar response in the two women on this earth who most matter to me. Mind you neither my mother nor spouse has ever met, campaigned, voted or been directly touched by either Bobby or Teddy Kennedy. They were strangers. But their stories resonated — and the authentic telling of their stories in remembrance of their lives was as human, revealing and meaningful as stories can be. And the responses of my mother and wife proved this.
For sure, the decorum and anticipated drama of State funerals facilitated this. But from a story telling perspective the messages delivered during these heartfelt goodbyes were stripped bare to the essence of human communication. In reaching the pinnacle of sincerity, authenticity and humanity the resulting impact was emotional. In our own communication, whenever possible, we would all do well to emulate this.
John Durante is senior marketing associate for WordWrite Communications.
