During the time of the Cold War–when I was growing up–as children mostly do, we hated who we were told to hate; in those times it was the Russians, especially Kruschev. He wasn’t just a person, he embodied all that was cruel, miserable, a monster whose purpose in life was to drop the atom bomb on us. He lost his temper and said terrible things–who could forget “We will bury you!!” And of course I always remember him banging his shoe on a table, screaming awful things. Or was I just told that? It was between 50 and 60 years ago.
Jackie Kennedy was the woman I looked up to then. She was a young queen, self-possessed, cultured, absolutely beautiful with her “new look.” When she went on trips to Europe with her husband, I went out of my mind with awe–she could speak French and Spanish and the crowds adored her. Who could not adore her? Was JFK put out by her ability to charm the public? Heck no! He knew what a treasure she was, how well she reflected what was best in our country, and of course bolstered his image. One of my favorite things he said, at least once, was: “Hello, my name is Jack Kennedy, Jackie Kennedy’s husband.” Most of all-Jackie Kennedy charmed Kruschev, this man who wanted to destroy us. Something right out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales.
What I’m getting around to saying is that when Kruschev came to Pittsburgh we, who lived on Shady Avenue Extension, went mad with excitement because part of his tour was to be driven along Beechwood Boulevard. Beechwood Boulevard wound its way at the foot of our hill. So one day, all of our friends and neighbors on the street streaked down the hill to watch for Kruschev. He did come when were told he would, standing up in a black convertible, waving and smiling his broad smile. We cheered and waved. Why? He was supposed to be the devil incarnate. Nobody could explain it to us children. There were no words. I think the power of fame had something to do with it, though. To actually have Nikita Kruschev wave at us from his car made him not so frightening and powerful.
Kruschev died; however other people came along who we learned to hate instead.
(If I didn’t spell something right or got any other detail wrong, I apologize.)
lgmwriting 