Not a book, but, a blaze from our history. I was in a Saver's Friday night and found an issue of Time Magazine dated December 6, 1963. An excerpt reads:::
Cardinal Cushing, presiding once more, seemed almost to hurry through the rote and ritual. Near the end, he blurted the words "this wonderful man, Jack Kennedy," into the midst of a stream of ancient Catholic prayers. A 21-gun salute boomed in the distance. Up the hill, three musket volleys cracked. A bugler began to play a perfect taps, then faltered twice.
The pallbearers, their white-gloved hands moving in careful precision folded to a tight triangle the flag that had covered Kennedy's coffin for two days. Jackie took it and hugging to to her breast, took a taper and lighted a blue flame at the foot of the grave--an "eternal light." Bobby and Teddy Kennedy touched taper to flame too, then they turned to go, and the funeral of John Kennedy was over.
The long line of limousines cruised down the hill to Washington and, as evening came, the crowd drifted away, the television crews dismantled their equipment, the drums stopped pounding. That night, while the flame flickered in the dark over heaps of wreaths and flowers and a litter of film wrappings, crumpled bags, and rolls of TV cable, Jackie Kennedy returned to the grave with Bobby. She put a small bouquet of lilies on the grave, prayed, wept, and went away.
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