Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir by Clint Hil (best novels for teenagers txt) đź“•
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- Author: Clint Hil
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Mrs. Kennedy was well aware of the tremendous responsibility and the constant and continued attention the job required. She tried very hard to make the time the president spent with family and friends as comfortable and relaxing as possible. She might invite Paul “Red” Fay and his wife, Anita, for a weekend at Middleburg or an intimate dinner at the White House. Red and JFK had been friends since the president’s Navy days and they shared a similar sense of humor, along with a love of sailing. Chuck Spalding and his wife, Betty, were frequent guests. Chuck had been an usher at the Kennedys’ wedding and had worked on the president’s campaign.
And then there was Lem. Lemoyne “Lem” Billings and Jack Kennedy had known each other since their prep school days at Choate, and they were almost like brothers. Lem seemed to be a permanent fixture at the White House, and would often be with the president when he arrived by helicopter to Middleburg, Hyannis Port, or Palm Beach. He was a tall, lanky guy, rather effeminate, and he just always seemed to be around. Mrs. Kennedy tolerated him, much like a somewhat annoying sibling, but Lem’s antics and quick wit made the president laugh, and that was worth a lot.
On November 22, 1961, it was back to Hyannis Port for Thanksgiving with the president’s parents, Rose and Ambassador Kennedy, along with as many members of the extended family as could possibly make the annual event. I wondered what the family would do in the cooler weather since so many of the summer activities revolved around the water. They were such an active, competitive family. I soon found out that Thanksgiving on the Cape meant touch football games and ice-skating at the Kennedy Memorial Skating Rink in Hyannis.
The Lieutenant Joseph Patrick Kennedy Jr. Memorial Skating Rink was built in honor of Ambassador and Rose Kennedy’s oldest son, who had been killed in World War II. Most of the family would go on daily outings to the rink, skating and laughing, just enjoying being together. It was such a wonderful sight to observe, and I so wished I could join them.
Growing up in the frozen plains of North Dakota, ice-skating had been one of my favorite after-school activities. There was a vacant dirt lot in Washburn, about half a block in length, that was flooded at the first freeze in the fall and stayed frozen until Easter, and that was our skating rink. When I wanted to be alone I would head to Painted Woods Creek, and skate for miles and miles in peaceful solitude. My mother worried about me when I’d go to the creek, though, because you had to watch out for air pockets, where the ice was thin. There had been a few kids who had drowned. I never worried about my own safety, but if I was with my sister or some friends, I wanted to be the one in the front of the pack, looking out for the soft spots ahead.
It didn’t matter the outdoor temperature—20 degrees below zero was commonplace for me—skating gave me energy and brought a smile to my face. I saw that same enjoyment on the faces of Mrs. Kennedy, the president, Caroline, and the rest of their family as they glided across the frozen surface with sheer delight.
Weather permitting, it was touch football time. Somebody—usually it was Bobby who instigated a game—would start rounding up players and picking teams. Quite often they were short a player, and Bobby or younger brother Teddy would call me at the command post.
“Clint, come on down here. We need another guy for our team.”
I had played football in high school and college and I loved it. They didn’t have to ask me twice.
The president rarely played, because of his back problems, but Bobby and Teddy would be out there, along with their wives, Ethel and Joanie; sisters Eunice and Jean, and their husbands Sarge Shriver and Steve Smith; and any guests who might be there and willing to participate. It was great fun, and quite competitive. Ethel especially hated to lose, and boy was she tough. God, Ethel—the thought of her out there playing still makes me chuckle. She was a ball of energy.
The rough-and-tumble nature of the Kennedy football games wasn’t Mrs. Kennedy’s style, so she would usually be sitting on the porch with the ambassador, watching with amusement, as we huddled and scrambled out there on the lawn. They treated me just like one of them—almost like part of the family. I thoroughly enjoyed it—not just for the sport, but also because it gave me the opportunity to occasionally throw a good hard block across certain family members. Payback time for things they had done causing me extra concern and work. Like using one of the Secret Service cars on the spur of the moment without asking permission or advising any of the agents what they were going to do. We learned never to leave keys in any of the cars even within the secured area, because if we did, you could count on Eunice or Sarge Shriver or Teddy taking off with the vehicle. It always seemed to happen just before Mrs. Kennedy or the president was about to
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