Cross posted on The Daily Hurricane:
I was in bed late last night, watching a rerun of Hardball, one of my favorite political shows when a young reporter broke in. As soon as the Breaking News banner came up, I knew that Senator Ted Kennedy had died even before she announced it. The end of one of the most important eras in US History had come to an end. The youngest brother of the Greatest Generation of Kennedys, Uncle Teddy, as he was called by his family and constituents, was the unlikely head of the most famous political family in the history of our great country.
Cross posted on The Daily Hurricane:
I was in bed late last night, watching a rerun of Hardball, one of my favorite political shows when a young reporter broke in. As soon as the Breaking News banner came up, I knew that Senator Ted Kennedy had died even before she announced it. The end of one of the most important eras in US History had come to an end. The youngest brother of the Greatest Generation of Kennedys, Uncle Teddy, as he was called by his family and constituents, was the unlikely head of the most famous political family in the history of our great country.
When Joe Kennedy, Sr., decided that his sons would form a political dynasty, the oldest son, Joe, Jr., was tapped to be the Presidential candidate. When he was killed flying a B-24 bomber in WWII, that mantle then fell to John Kennedy, who was the academic brother, and more suited to be a college professor. JFK was the center of the dynasty when he was elected, being replaced by younger brother, Bobby, after he was assassinated. When Bobby was also felled by an assasin's bullet, the responsibility fell to Teddy.
Teddy was the baby brother. He was never intended to be the leader. Early on, he lived the life of wealthy Boston baby brother, drinking, carousing, and partying. His lifestyle became tragically apparent when, in 1969, he drunkenly drove off a small bridge on Martha's Vineyard, killing a companion, Mary Jo Kopechne. The incident was a turning point for him; it killed his chance of ever being elected President, but it also shocked him, I believe, into the roll that he served for the rest of his life.
Filling his brother's Senate seat in 1962, Teddy matured into a formidable presence, a fierce advocate for constituents and health care reform. He fought until the day he died for universal health care and for the working person. I was in Massachusetts on the day it was announced that he had a brain tumor. Even on that day, the local radio and television stations aired special programming about Teddy. As I was driving into Boston, I heard caller after caller tell a Teddy story. All of the stories centered on his special efforts to get medical care for a relative, to pull someone out of homelessness, to get someone else a job.
These people are his legacy. Ted Kennedy spent almost his entire time in the Senate atoning for the irresponsibility of his younger years. He stood at the head of the family during dozens of tragedies befalling the Kennedys, and he was always the rock. Now, that responsibility will fall to a younger Kennedy. In the meantime, Uncle Teddy is finally getting some rest.
I will remember him fondly.