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

A.M. breakfast arrived. The coffee was hot and black, and the eggs, bacon, and hash browns really hit the spot. This was one luxury I fully enjoyed.

I packed everything back in my suitcase so it was ready for the transportation guys to send over to the LBJ Ranch in Austin, where we were to spend the night, and got ready to go to the presidential suite.

I was standing in the hallway with Roy Kellerman and Emory Roberts when President Kennedy came out, flanked by Dave Powers and Ken O’Donnell.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” President Kennedy said. “Did you have a good night?”

“Good morning, Mr. President,” we responded.

“There’s quite a crowd out there,” Dave Powers said, gently urging the president. “Time to get moving.”

A few minutes later, I heard women shrieking, and a thunderous applause. President Kennedy had just walked outside the hotel.

I remained at the security post, just outside the entrance to the suite, giving Mrs. Kennedy as much privacy as possible. Mary Gallagher was already inside packing Mrs. Kennedy’s bags and helping her get ready.

At 9:10 A.M. the security phone at the entrance to the presidential suite rang. It was agent Bill Duncan, the advance agent, calling from the breakfast being held downstairs.

“Clint, the president wants you to bring Mrs. Kennedy down to the breakfast—now!”

“Okay,” I said, “we’ll be right there.”

I checked Mrs. Kennedy’s schedule and where it listed the breakfast there was a red check mark and a red-penciled footnote in her handwriting: JBK won’t attend.

Oh well, I thought, everything is subject to change.

I walked into the suite and said, “Mrs. Kennedy, the president wants you down at the breakfast. Are you ready?”

“Come on in, Mr. Hill,” she answered, not noting the urgency in my voice. I walked into her bedroom, where Mary was hurriedly packing Mrs. Kennedy’s suitcase.

Mrs. Kennedy was dressed in her pink suit, the one with the navy collar. But I could tell she wasn’t completely ready. She hadn’t planned on going to the breakfast.

“Good morning, I hope you slept well,” she said cheerfully.

“We’ve got another long day ahead,” I said, trying to subdue my urgent attitude.

“Yes, I never realized how tiring campaigning could be,” she said. “I guess I didn’t do too much of it the last time.”

“Mrs. Kennedy, did you know that the president is waiting for you at the breakfast?”

“I wasn’t planning on going to the breakfast,” she said.

“I know, Mrs. Kennedy, but the president wants you down at the breakfast right now.”

She looked in the mirror and said, “Okay, I just need to put on my hat.”

There was a matching pink pillbox hat laid out on the dresser next to some gloves. She put it on, looked in the mirror to adjust it, and then asked Mary to help her with the buttons on her wrist-length gloves.

Now she was ready. I opened the door and we walked out of the suite, toward the elevators.

Paul Landis had received the message and was waiting in the hall near the elevators.

“Good morning, Mr. Landis,” she said with a smile.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kennedy, another busy day ahead for you.”

“Yes, we will all be ready to relax tonight, won’t we?”

The three of us got into the elevator and began the descent to the mezzanine level.

I led the way, walking briskly, with Mrs. Kennedy following, and Paul behind her. As we entered the Grand Ballroom, the place erupted with applause. The room was packed with people sitting at long tables. They had utilized every square foot of space available and about two thousand people were in attendance.

I could hear people commenting as she walked by: “Oh, isn’t she lovely?” “Oh my goodness, she’s even prettier in person!”

I led her to the dais and she was guided to her seat at the head table.

President Kennedy stepped up to the podium and said, “Two years ago, I introduced myself in Paris by saying that I was the man who had accompanied Mrs. Kennedy to Paris. I am getting somewhat that same sensation as I travel around Texas.”

He paused, as the entire audience laughed.

Then, he added, glancing at Mrs. Kennedy, “Nobody wonders what Lyndon and I wear.”

Mrs. Kennedy blushed and displayed that girlhood smile of innocence she had perfected. The president, in his inimitable way, had hidden what I knew was his displeasure with her lateness, turned the situation into a compliment of his wife, added a dose of humor, and the crowd loved it.

The breakfast concluded with gifts to both the president and Mrs. Kennedy, and we escorted them back to the suite. They had about a half an hour to relax before we headed to Dallas.

IT HAD BEEN raining lightly that morning in Fort Worth, so ASAIC Kellerman called Agent Win Lawson, the advance agent in Dallas, to check on the weather. It hadn’t yet been determined whether SS-100-X would have the Plexiglas bubbletop on or off. It took some time to attach the bubbletop, and Sam Kinney, the driver agent in charge of the vehicles, would need to know as soon as possible.

Lawson reported it was clearing up and should be nice.

ASAIC Kellerman said, “Tell Sam, top off.”

That was the standard motorcade situation during the Kennedy administration. It was the same whether he was in Berlin, Dublin, Honolulu, Tampa, San Antonio, or San José, Costa Rica. Unless it was raining or there were other adverse weather conditions, the president wanted the top off during parade-type motorcades. He wanted maximum exposure with no evidence there was anything between him and the people. People felt a connection to President Kennedy when they saw him in person. That’s what had gotten him elected, and now he needed to get reelected.

AT 10:40 A.M. we left the Hotel Texas and headed for Carswell Air Force Base, where Air Force One, the vice president’s plane, and the backup plane were ready to go. We used standard Lincoln convertibles again, but it had stopped raining, so the tops were off.

There were large crowds all along the thirty-minute route back to Carswell, and