The day we changed.

Byline: The Register-Guard

Perception is everything in politics. In the 40 years since John F. Kennedy's assassination in Dallas, Texas, Americans have learned much about their 35th president that dispels the magic of the Camelot era. But the magic seemed real at the time, and the memory of it clings to the Kennedy administration four decades after it was cut short by Lee Harvey Oswald.

Kennedy personified his time, with his youth, his wit, his charm and his magnetic personality. His was a youthful White House, full of innovations - a nuclear test ban treaty, the Peace Corps, an ambitious space program - and eloquence. Kennedy's inaugural gave the nation an enduring formulation of public service, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." His proclamation "Ich bin ein Berliner" encapsulated the spirit of American internationalism during the Cold War. His strong and articulate support for the test ban treaty provided hope that the worst aspects of the arms race could be contained.

Kennedy's twin Cuban crises were emblematic of the times. In the Bay of Pigs, the limitations of American power and resolve were humiliatingly displayed in ways that would later be echoed in Vietnam. In the Cuban Missile Crisis, Kennedy's coolness in the confrontation with the Soviet Union over Premier Nikita Khrushchev's sending missiles to Cuba showed a capacity and a will to resist Soviet expansionism, while illustrating how terrifyingly close the world could come to a nuclear war.

On the domestic front, Kennedy desperately sought, but couldn't achieve from the Southern-dominated Congress of the time, a major civil rights bill. It was left to Kennedy's successor, Lyndon B. Johnson, to finally persuade Congress to give all Americans equal rights. Kennedy laid the groundwork for Medicare, the program that provides health care for all older Americans, but that, too, was left to become part of the Johnson legacy.

In his private life, shielded from public view to a degree that is unimaginable today, Kennedy made Bill Clinton look like a choir boy. He engaged in reckless liaisons, including an affair with a woman with strong mob connections. He was heavily medicated for chronic pain and Addison's disease, receiving as many as six painkiller injections a day. That Kennedy could project the image of a vigorous family man is a testament to the diligence of his protective inner circle, and to the discretion, or complicity, of the press corps.

Kennedy's personal life is better known, and his political record better understood, today than they were 40 years ago. But one thing that hasn't changed is the nation's appreciation of the tremendous impact of his assassination. It was seen at the time as a watershed, and that assessment hasn't changed. Kennedy's murder dimmed the lights in America, ending a period of innocent optimism. Never since has the country had such confidence. The most successful leaders of the past 40 years have been those who have rekindled that spark of hope and daring.

Because it was immediately recognized as a turning point, the terrible moment of Kennedy's assassination is seared into the national consciousness more deeply than all but a few events in modern history: Pearl Harbor, the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.

The events of Nov. 22, 1963, continue to be the subject of endless analysis and retrospection. The assassination, the saga of the Kennedy family that it punctuated, and the ongoing speculation about whether Oswald acted alone have been the subject of exhaustive television documentaries this week. Interest remains strong because history turned on its hinges that day. In an instant, the country's politics, psychology and culture were changed. The grainy photos from 40 years ago seem to show a different country - and indeed, they do.