It’s hard to describe the relationship I have had with a President who died before I was born, or the way that relationship was shaped even as I grew up in Alabama. But there was, and still is, a relationship. It led me to make speeches in high school that evoked Kennedy’s own speeches on public service. It led me to defend JFK vigorously even when I was still a dumb young Reagan Republican. And it led me to make a point of visiting his grave at Arlington when I finally had the opportunity on a class trip. Where I wept.