◆ SpookStack

The siceves of his rumpled white shirt were rolled fip-Fhe’collar was open. This great doom which so many of the Irish live by and -have in their faces _mate him jook gaunt. But the bare arms, folded in’ front of him, were thick. Very thick for a guy of his size. And the hair was bleached from summer sun. “I mention my brother when I talk,” he was saying, ‘for a simple reason. President John F. Ken- nedy was my brother. But President John F. Kennedy was glen the Deocident of the United States and I was WAS 2150 UGE FP VaesaSrit Va eet Srsasews Bree Tl - im that government. If I wasn’t a part of that govern- ment for over three and a half years, I wouldn't be running at all. Therefore, I mention it. If I wasn't able to produce as Attorney General, or to atlvise — the President on Cuba or advise him on Mississippi, I wouldn'r have been a part of that government even if my brother was running it. So it is my record and I talk of it. But 1 don’t talk of him as my brother for campaign purposes. You sce the difference.” Yes. And it Made sense and he was carnest. But life, no matter what the intentions, has a funy way of making all of us practical, Particularly when you need something. This is why bank tellers count TUttily envies. And it is why | . big politicians, vbo_nor- matly would set dogs on you if yon tried to bother . firemen up to you each Fall and hold your hand en tight you figure them for being queer. -* And, a day or so later, Robert Kennedy, sitting in this white campaign convertible, pulled up at the com- ner of 116th Street and Lexington Avenue and crawled through the crowd to a stage which had been set up on | the sidewalk. The mob clogged the street. They pushed against the stores with their dresses hanging outside, 116th Street is the Orchard Street of East Hariem, and they jibbered in Pucrto Rican and shrieked when they saw him get on the stage. ° A kid running down the street with a big black trunk he had just stoicn stepped, put the trunk down, and then got up on it so he could see better. “Hey, there's a lot of cops around here,” he was told. “They'll catch you and put your behind in jali.” The black face turned around. “Que?” he said. “You stole the trunk and the cops are going to get you?” —_ . ; The face screwed into puzzlement. “No com- prendo,” he said. ot . Tren he turned around and started to cheer for Kennedy. A guy with us bent over and grabbed the trunk by one of its handles and started to pull it The kid on the trunk turned around, “Hey, you somona- beetch, get your hands off my trunk.” And all around him, throughout the crowd, there wag hoo and pickpockets and honest working people and women with babies and smart people and dumb people and people with class and pecple who are bums, and they had votes. And the art of asking for votes from a crowd like this is pandering. Any of these political science textbook words are ridiculous here. “I campaigned here with my brother in 1960,” Robert Kennedy said. “You were the backbone of his rt again.” i nemenemnent a your $1 support. I come here, as my brother did before me, to . < a Y ead tain acl Ae tafe Rss oF Sth 7, 7 é <> im Re ae a, Bea oe bem ca 2 : ke a ar A ER we, i eiiniee eam ee - meee = ea . = ening - ’ ey FD —— = S aoe 3, = . ~~ ats - an Te ie ka wir Poe an =~ ing teh ie so mm ae er. *. ew Oe me a, see mad DOU a sre eet Taken wet et one Eace