Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir by Clint Hil (love letters to the dead TXT) 📗

the president walked in, somebody handed him a glass of champagne, and we all started singing “Happy Birthday.” He broke into a big smile and acted as though he were surprised. In reality, I think he must have known what was going on. It is very difficult to surprise the president—any president. The last thing a president wants is to be surprised. He relies on his top staff to keep him well informed, and if they don’t, they are soon out of a job.

But the president played along, as he was presented with an array of gag gifts. There was a miniature rocking chair, boxing gloves to deal with Congress, “Debate Rules” from Richard M. Nixon. But the biggest laugh came when Mrs. Kennedy presented her gift—a basket of dead grass.

“Mr. President,” she deadpanned, “on behalf of the White House Historical Society, it is with great honor and with the utmost respect, that I present to you genuine antique grass from the antique rose garden.”

Surprise party at White House for President Kennedy’s 46th birthday

The president loved it. That too was typical of Mrs. Kennedy’s self-deprecating sense of humor. In giving the gift to her husband, she was simultaneously mocking herself, as well as the staff members and others who adulate the president.

That evening, Mrs. Kennedy had planned a truly special event for her husband’s birthday—a cruise on the Potomac aboard the beautiful presidential yacht, the USS Sequoia.

A classic teak and mahogany 104-foot motor yacht built around 1925, the Sequoia was operated by the U.S. Navy and had been made available to every president since Herbert Hoover. Due to her shallow draft of less than four and a half feet, the Sequoia wasn’t an oceangoing vessel, but she was ideal for cruises along the usually calm waters of the Potomac.

President Kennedy was happiest when he was on the water, and this night was no exception. Mrs. Kennedy had invited about twenty-four guests, who were told to arrive promptly for an 8:01 departure. We had Secret Service agents on a couple of security boats, but there were just three agents aboard the Sequoia—Floyd Boring and Ron Pontius from the President’s Detail, and myself.

Agents Ron Pontius, Floyd Boring, and Clint Hill on U.S.S. Sequoia

None of President Kennedy’s political advisors had been invited—the guest list included only family members and his closest friends: Bobby and Ethel, Sarge and Eunice, Teddy, the Bartletts, Ben and Tony Bradlee, the Fays, British actor David Niven and his wife, Florida senator George Smathers and his wife, Bill Walton, Lem Billings, and a few others.

It was a dreary, rainy evening, making the open-air top deck unusable, so everybody was crammed inside the main and aft salons. The interior of this classic yacht feels like a cozy gentleman’s library with low ceilings, varnished mahogany paneling and cabinetry, and fine fabric for the drapes and furnishings. The captain steers the boat with a large, classic wood and brass wheel, from the windowed pilothouse on the main deck. Behind the pilothouse there is the galley, the large main salon, which is connected to the smaller, cozier aft salon by a narrow hallway and bar area. At the rear is the fantail—sort of an outdoor covered porch.

The yacht is elegant and spacious, but with about twenty-four guests, three agents, the crew, and the three-piece band Mrs. Kennedy had arranged, on this night it was close quarters.

To accommodate all the guests for dinner, the mahogany Chippendale dining table was extended to fill the entire main salon, so drinks and hors d’oeuvres were served on the aft deck and covered fantail. While Agents Boring and Pontius and I stood post on the exterior walkways, the guests inside dined on roast filet of beef and 1955 Dom Pérignon champagne. People were in lively spirits to begin with, and as the night wore on, and the champagne flowed, the party got louder and livelier. There were plenty of toasts, and after birthday cake at the dining table, the president opened presents in the aft salon. Then the dancing started. They were doing the twist, the cha-cha, and everything in between. It was wild. I don’t think I had ever seen the president and Mrs. Kennedy having more fun. Nobody wanted the night to end, but the captain docked the Sequoia around 1:20 A.M., and finally, everybody went home.

Mrs. Kennedy was thrilled that the party had gone off so well.

IT’S BEEN A long time since I’ve thought about that night, that wonderful raucous night. I can still see the president’s surprise and amusement while opening his gifts. I can still hear the music, the guests singing along, and the president having such a wonderful time surrounded by his closest family and friends. What a privilege it was for me to have been there, to witness the joy and laughter. But always, when I remember that special birthday celebration on the Sequoia, I can’t help but think that it shouldn’t have been his last.

At forty-six, it shouldn’t have been his last.

President Kennedy opens gifts on U.S.S. Sequoia

20

Losing Baby Patrick

JFK conducts business during family photo session on Squaw Island, August 1963

On June 22 1963, President Kennedy departed on a two-week trip to Europe, with stops in England, Ireland, Italy, and Germany. It was history in the making and I have to admit that I was disappointed not to be able to join my colleagues on what I knew would be a challenging and significant trip.

When I saw the news reports about President Kennedy delivering what would forever be known as his “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech, all I could think about was the complex challenge faced by the Secret Service agents assigned to protect him. The photos showed hundreds of thousands of unscreened people—many watching from balconies and rooftops—as President Kennedy spoke, all alone at a podium on an open stage. He was a sitting duck.

How do you protect someone in that environment? All it takes is one