The 40th Anniversary
of the Broken Note
Taps at the John F. Kennedy Funeral
by Jari Villanueva

Just about every person over the age of forty-five can tell you where they were, how they felt and what they did upon hearing the news of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy forty years ago this November. Sergeant Keith Clark, Principal Bugler of the U.S. Army Band, was going through his collection of rare books when he heard the radio report, and immediately went to the nearest barber for a haircut, thinking he might be asked to sound Taps should the Chief Executive be interred at Arlington National Cemetery.

Clark had played for hundreds of funerals and ceremonies at Arlington and had performed for President Kennedy several times, including sounding Taps at the Tomb of the Unknowns two weeks earlier, during Armistice Day (Veterans Day) ceremonies.

Never did the eloquent melody of Taps, created one hundred years earlier during the Civil War, have a larger audience than on Monday, November 25, 1963 when world leaders, statesmen, and dignitaries gathered at Arlington to mourn the president’s death. Millions worldwide watched the proceedings on television.

The November day was unusually chilly and Clark was in place hours before the funeral procession arrived at Arlington. From his position on the hill in front of the Custis-Lee Mansion, he had the perfect location to watch the funeral parade as it approached the cemetery.

Kennedy’s casket was borne to the grave as fifty jet fighters flew in formation overhead, followed by Air Force One. A corps of Irish cadets executed a silent drill and then Cardinal William Cushing began the commitment rites. Cushing led the mourners in "The Lord’s Prayer," then stepped back as military honors began. The command “Present Arms” was followed by the firing of three volleys, traditional at every serviceman's funeral. Clark raised his bugle to sound Taps. It was the final movement of the musical honors accorded all military funerals.

“Day is done...” Clark started the bugle call as he had done so many times. He thought of the words of I Corinthians 15:51-52, “..we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.” The notes resounded over all assembled, though in Clark’s mind the call was sounded only for the widow, Jacqueline Kennedy.

“Gone the sun...” On the sixth word (sun), he cracked the note. It was, as recalled by author William Manchester, “like a catch in your voice, or a swiftly stifled sob.” The broken note was considered the only conspicuous slip in the otherwise ornate and grandiose ceremony. Some thought it to be a deliberate effect. It was not. The cold temperature was not conducive to musical perfection.

“...from the lake, from the hills, from the sky. All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.” He finished the rest of the call perfectly. Clark saluted his Commander-in-Chief as the casket bearers folded the flag, which was presented to Mrs. Kennedy.

“I missed a note under pressure. It’s something you don’t like, but it’s something that can happen to a trumpet player. You never really get over it,” Clark remembered in an Associated Press report in 1988 on the twenty-fifth anniversary of Kennedy’s death. “It’s like the Speaker of the House saying, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.’ That is not at all hard to say, but to do it then, and do it there--that’s when the pressure comes: that’s when it becomes difficult all of a sudden.”

In a letter to me, Clark said, “I feel the thought behind the playing and (the) feeling used in the performance are the most important parts of each sounding of Taps.”

In the weeks following the State Funeral, the broken note took on a life of its own. The same note was missed by other buglers at Arlington. “We all thought that it must be psychological,” Clark recalled. Indeed, the broken note has become part of our American history as much as the crack in the Liberty Bell.

After retiring from the Army in 1966, Clark went on to a successful career of teaching, performing and writing. The bugle on which he performed was loaned to the Smithsonian Institution in April, 1973. The bugle was moved to Arlington in the spring of 1999 where it is on display in the Visitor Center. Keith Clark passed away on January 10, 2002 at the age of 74 and is buried in Arlington.

An audio file of the "Broken Taps" can be found at: http://tapsbugler.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/JFK-Taps-Clark.mp3