It was, in many ways, the symbolic end of America’s innocence.
On that tragic day 50 years ago in Dallas, our nation not only lost a young, vibrant president who embodied the hope of a new generation, but for many a sense of post-war optimism was pierced with a wound that has not healed.
I was eight months old on Nov. 22, 1963, so I can’t answer the question so many are being asked this week. Where were you when you heard the news, and how did it affect you? The News-Register asked several local citizens that question (see related article), which made for an interesting read.
Fifty years later, I, like many, remain captivated by the Camelot era and have watched and read many of the special reports on the subject. I learned that I am in the minority, however, according to a Gallup poll, in that I do not believe the assassination of John F. Kennedy was a conspiracy plot.
An estimated 40,000 books have been written about JFK. Many of them, naturally, focused on the shooting in Dallas. Not nearly enough attention, in my opinion, has been given to journalist and author Max Holland’s 2003 report, touted as “one of the most exhaustive examinations ever conducted into the Warren Commission’s investigation.”
Holland concludes, after some plausible and very fascinating research, that Lee Harvey Oswald did in fact act alone. My how much internal angst and agony our nation could have avoided if that would have been the shared consensus five decades ago.
Using state-of-the-art technology not available back in 1963, Holland disproved the “magic bullet” theory, for example. Compiling data from numerous home videos captured that day, including the infamous Zapruder film, Holland shined a laser light from the sixth floor window of the Texas School Book Depository down to the exact spot where the second shot struck. It proves, convincingly in my opinion, that due to Kennedy’s raised seat the bullet could have passed through the president and then struck Gov. Connelly in a very direct path.
Holland’s high-tech study also concluded that the first shot, the “missing bullet,” may have incredibly struck an overhead traffic light signal more than 11 seconds before the final, fatal blow. Video taken just five days after the shooting offers evidence in the form of a white mark on the black light signal casing, though tragically it was never inspected up close and has long since been removed.
There are many other aspects of Holland’s report which offer logical explanations to questions that were not properly asked or answered by the Warren Report. Unfortunately, many Americans prefer to believe the Oliver Stone version of what happened before and after the shooting in Texas.
I must admit that I was shaken by Stone’s “JFK” movie in 1991, and left the theater with the notion that perhaps my own country was hiding the truth for some unknown reason. I knew it was just a movie, but it portrayed a distrust in government that many had, and apparently still have.
In that sense, the Kennedy assassination was a watershed moment in American history. No matter what we believe actually happened that day, there can be no argument that it forever changed our nation and our world.
KURT JOHNSON can be reached at kjohnson@ hamilton.net
Man of honor
Hamilton County lost a true friend and public servant this week with the passing of former state senator Bob Kremer.
Bob was one of the good guys, a man with few adversaries and a gentle soul whom many considered a trusted friend. He was a man of faith, first and foremost, which gave him a grace and sense of quiet confidence that helped him be an effective listener and leader. He was always willing to lend an ear, whether working in the halls of the state capitol or visiting one-on-one with a constituent, fellow farmer or resident of his beloved hometown Aurora.
The son of a respected state senator, Maurice Kremer, Bob seemed destined for public service. He spoke openly about the valued role of trusted leadership and looked for opportunity to offer his own voice of reason to the causes and organizations that meant the most to him.
Agriculture was at the top of that list, obviously, and Bob devoted much of his life to working the land and supporting the industry in a variety of ways. He reached his pinnacle of influence as chairman of the legislature’s Agriculture Committee, a position he took very seriously in his final years as a senator.
Even during that time, however, Bob Kremer remained humble and grounded in faith. You never heard him raise his voice or speak ill of someone with a differing view, traits our state and nation could use more of these days. No matter how hot the topic or how high the political stakes, people who dealt with Bob knew they would get a good listen and a fair shake.
On a personal note, the thing I’ll remember most about Bob is his genuine sincerity. When Bob shook your hand and asked how things were going, most often with wife Bev right there by his side, you got the overwhelming feeling that he meant it. Every single person mattered, in his eyes, and he would listen closely to what you had to say. His caring personality made you want to engage and work or volunteer make a difference, which helped him have a profound and positive influence during his lifetime.
We join the community in offering our warmest condolences to his family, who can be comforted in knowing that Bob touched so many lives in a positive and influential way. He lived an honorable life and left a legacy any man would be proud to call his own.
Horror of 9/11 still haunts Aurora native
Nikki Collazo still cringes at the memories of that horrific day.
Even 12 years later, watching recaps on the news stirs a haunting, gut-wrenching feeling that she and her family were in danger from an enemy they could not see.
Like every American, Collazo remembers exactly where she was on Sept. 11, 2001. It’s a day that changed our nation, our world and most definitely the perceptions of a small-town Nebraska girl living life in the big city.
“When the towers collapsed, I just remember falling to the floor because I could not believe it,” Collazo told members of the Aurora Rotary Club last week, the first time she has spoken publicly about her experiences on 9/11. “It was so scary.”
Living just five miles from Ground Zero, Collazo recalled watching the horrific images on television, though the shocking reality of the morning attack soon came walking into her neighborhood. With the public transportation system completely shut down, people dressed for business in suits and skirts walked from lower Manhattan toward their homes, coated with soot and ash.
“They were like zombies,” she said, fighting back tears as the images came rushing back. “They were asking to use our phones and sharing their stories of all the destruction and death and of bodies falling. They were in shock and it hit me even harder because all this was coming to our neighborhood.”
Having grown up in a military family (her late father, Bill Sack, was a Vietnam veteran), Collazo admitted that she began to fear the worst.
“I panicked. I was thinking they were going to poison our water and kill us all and that we had to get off that island. But we couldn’t because they had all the bridges blocked.”
Collazo lived at the time in Spanish Harlem with her husband, Eric, young son Titan and Eric’s 10-year-old brother, Andrew Rodriguez. It was a diverse neighborhood, but on that day there was an instant sense of unity.
“We lived in a not-so-good neighborhood, but everybody was united, helping everybody,” she said. “It didn’t matter what color you were. Everybody was just so stunned. They were numb.”
Once the reality of the moment began to sink in, Collazo’s first thought was her family’s safety. She and Eric walked to Andrew’s school and home again, then tried in vain to call family back in Nebraska. It would be a full day before they knew she was safe.
“It was just so scary that day because we believed there were six planes in the air so we were kind of waiting for the next one to hit,” she said. “The city continued to get threats throughout the night and it was terrible just not knowing what was going on, trying to get reports on all the damage.”
Collazo had come to New York City looking for anonymity, and perhaps a bit of adventure. After graduating from Aurora High School in 1994, she enrolled at Doane College and went to NYC for a spring break trip to help with an AIDS hospice. She and a friend were intrigued by the big city, and decided to transfer there.
Collazo made the move east and enrolled in the John Chase College of Criminal Justice, but eventually got a phone call from her friend saying she wouldn’t be coming. There she was, all alone in the Big Apple.
“I wanted to go where nobody knew me because I was ready for a change at the time,” she recalled. Collazo got a job working at a Hallmark store in Rockefeller Center and eventually met her husband. She was beginning to adjust to big city life until terrorists attacked from the skies.
“I was a nervous wreck that day and I realized this kind of stuff does not happen where I come from,” she said. “Then when we found out that the president was headed to Nebraska I was thinking, ‘See, that’s a safe place to be. Things like this don’t happen there.’”
A month later, Collazo learned that her mother had been diagnosed with cancer, and that was the final motivation needed to move her family back to Nebraska.
With Eric’s family still in New York, the Collazos have returned several times, including a trip this summer for a family reunion. They ventured down to the 9/11 memorial, where emotions came flooding back.
“I wanted to have the kids appreciate and realize what happened,” she said. “The whole city seems completely changed to me.” Collazo is very content back home in the heartland. She enjoys her job as administrative assistant with the Aurora Police Department and feels comforted with extended family nearby. On most days she doesn’t dwell on the horror of that day, though it will be forever etched in her memory.
“It was a big culture shock living in Spanish Harlem and I didn’t realize how naive I was until I moved to New York City,” she said. “I still have that fear that I didn’t know what was going to happen on 9/11. It’s just something that changes you somehow.”
KURT JOHNSON can be reached at kjohnson@ hamilton.net
Ready for harvest
Talk about pressure.
The combination of a pending harvest, Highway 34 improvements and a massive $63 million expansion project have been cause for stress these days at the Syngenta plant near Phillips. A project that’s been in the planning stages for years is now ready to roll into production mode, and just in the nick of time.
With so many pieces of this giant puzzle coming together, it’s been a hectic spring and summer at the local plant. You wouldn’t necessarily know it by talking to plant manager Bill Hunter III, who seems as cool as a cucumber (at least on the outside).
Sometime this week, the pressure will shift from the construction crews to an expanded Syngenta staff charged with operating this new state-of-the-art facility. It’s an impressive complex, both in sheer size and functionality.
Local residents, as well as Highway 34 commuters, have been watching this project unfold day to day for more than a year now. The addition of 42 acres allowed the company to triple the physical footprint of the plant, which now covers a sprawling 60 acres. As massive as this addition is, Syngenta is already gearing up for the next expansion with room to grow built in by design.
Syngenta’s decision to expand its operations with such a sizable investment is a strong testament to its confidence in the consistency and quality of crops grown here in Hamilton County. Their customers expect and demand a consistent seed corn product and the Swiss-based company knows it will get exactly that here in Central Nebraska. That’s due in large part to prime soil conditions, precious aquifer, a solid base of seed corn acreage and the availability of hard-working detassling crews.
Local farmers deserve credit for this success story as well. A strong partnership between producers and this well-known company, based largely on trust and valued relationships, is one of the core reasons Syngenta has expanded the Phillips plant six times in recent years.
Congratulations to all involved in Syngenta’s massive endeavor, one of the largest single investments in Hamilton County history.
Lucky or not, Smith's number keeps coming up
“Congratulations! You are a lucky winner.”
Pauline Smith of Hampton was skeptical when she got the first call. A foreign-sounding voice dialed her number out of the blue telling her she had just won a Publisher’s Clearing House prize worth $450,000. It sounded too good to be true.
“They said the money would be delivered to me the next day, and of course nothing happened,” she recalled.
The man called back the next day, this time asking for information to help seal the deal. Smith didn’t bite, and kindly requested that he not call again.
Her number came up again a few days later when a another man told her she had won $8,000. She smelled something rotten and hung up.
Then came the big one. A smooth-talking fellow called asking if she recognized his voice. He kept teasing her for minutes, until she finally gave in and guessed a name. It was the wrong name, of course, but he continued on.
“He told me that my name had been drawn as the winner of a bunch of money plus a Mercedes Benz,” she said. “He had a pleasant personality and pleasant voice and talked like I should know him. I was fooled for a while and guessed a name, but the more I think about it that’s just a strange approach.”
As a 50-year owner of a plumbing and well drilling business in Hampton, Smith knows better than to give out any information over the phone, especially to someone she doesn’t know. She revealed nothing, and yet the calls kept coming.
Then another call came on July 16, the fourth one in five days. Same smooth-talking message, different technique. “You are a lucky winner,” a man said. By now she was losing her patience.
“I got so irritated I wasn’t even nice by that time,” Smith recalled. “They kept at me, but I said I didn’t believe it and hung up.”
The man called back again, then again, and yet again.
“I finally said, ‘I’m hanging up and please take my number off your list.’” The phone rang immediately, but she didn’t answer. “I hope it was him,” she laughed.
The phone kept ringing with promises of wealth. Smith had eight calls the next day and five more the day after that. One was from “the U.S. Claims Department” advising her that she had won $5.5 million. She was told to wear her best clothing the following day when a lawyer would come to her home and escort her to the bank. And, oh by the way, she’ll need to share some information to confirm her winnings.
“Money is the root of all evil,” she responded. “Take my name off your list. Good-bye.”
Smith is now wondering why her? Why so many calls at once?
“I think it’s because of my age,” she said, noting that she’ll turn 85 in November. “They must have some way of finding out your age in this day and age. It’s still scary. They know my address and reel off that information like they know who you are.”
Perplexed, and a bit alarmed that some sort of phone scam blitz might be targeting Hamilton County, Smith called the sheriff’s office and then Hamilton Telecommunications.
For the record, there is a way to put your name on a “Do not call” list. Businesses or individuals can register by logging on to www.donotcall.gov, or call 1-888-382-1222. There’s no guarantee that you’ll never be targeted by another scam, but it’s about the only defense mechanism available.
Be advised, however, as some ne’er-do-well scammers have been making phone calls claiming to represent the National Do Not Call Registry. It’s just another con.
“Evidently there is a lot of this going on,” Smith said. “It’s just crazy. They have their techniques and the next thing you know they are probably going after your savings or bank information. It’s scary to me.”
Just like my mama always told me, if it sounds too good to be true it probably is.
KURT JOHNSON can be reached at kjohnson@ hamilton.net