Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir by Clint Hil (best novels for teenagers txt) 📕

departure, he was wearing a black fur cap called a karakul, also known as Jinnah cap, which was common attire for Pakistani men.

“I love your cap, Mr. President!” Mrs. Kennedy exclaimed as soon as she saw it. “Why haven’t I seen you in this before?”

President Ayub Khan took off the cap and playfully placed it on her head. “It’s yours, Mrs. Kennedy.”

She laughed and said, “Oh, thank you. I must get one for President Kennedy, too.”

“I’ll take care of it,” President Ayub said with a laugh. “We’ll have an assortment of karakuls sent to President Kennedy.”

WE LANDED FORTY-FIVE minutes later at an airport near Peshawar that was the same spot from which American Gary Powers had taken off for his ill-fated flight over the Soviet Union—the flight that ended with him a prisoner of the Soviets and the United States embarrassed into acknowledging flying spy planes over that country. It was an event that caused immense tension between our two countries and resulted in Premier Khrushchev refusing to talk to President Eisenhower at a summit meeting in Paris in 1960. This piece of history was not lost on Mrs. Kennedy.

Once again there were large crowds upon our arrival, but in Peshawar there were noticeably fewer women in attendance. The people in this region tended to be far more conservative in their Muslim traditions, and many considered it inappropriate for women to be seen in public. Thus it was the men who came out in droves to welcome Mrs. Kennedy.

As soon as we got settled into our rooms at the governor’s residence, Mrs. Kennedy came to me with a look of grave concern on her face and a piece of paper in her hands.

Ever since President Ayub had presented Sardar to Mrs. Kennedy, Ambassador McConaughy had a staff of people working on the necessary arrangements to get the horse to the United States as soon as possible with as little muss and fuss as possible. To make matters more complicated, I also learned that just prior to Mrs. Kennedy’s departure from India, she had been given two tiger cubs, courtesy of Air India. According to the ambassador, she envisioned keeping them on the White House lawn.

Tigers roaming freely on the White House lawn. I hadn’t yet broached that subject with her or anybody back in Washington.

“Mr. Hill,” she said as she handed me the paper with her handwritten notes on it. “I need to get this message to the president—I think he is in California, in Palm Springs. I don’t want anyone to know about it, but I need him to get it as soon as possible.”

“Sure, Mrs. Kennedy, I’ll take care of it right away.”

I went straight to the embassy, found the ambassador, and requested he send the secure message to President Kennedy immediately.

FROM: THE FIRST LADY

TO: THE PRESIDENT

///SECRETEYESONLY///

DEAR JACK,

IT SEEMS SO RUDE TO PAKISTANIS TO SUGGEST THAT THEIR BEAUTIFUL HORSE HAS HOOF AND MOUTH DISEASE WHEN OBVIOUSLY HE HASN’T A GERM IN THE WORLD.

HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND HIGH STRUNG IT WOULD BE CRUEL TO QUARANTINE HIM IN NEW YORK FOR THIRTY DAYS. CANNOT BEAR TO BE PARTED FROM HIM THAT LONG AS COULD SHOW HIM THIS SPRING AND START SCHOOLING HIM IMMEDIATELY.

COULD YOU NOT HAVE VETERINARIAN EXAMINE HIM IN NEW YORK AND SAY HE WAS FREE FROM ALL DISEASE AND HAVE HIM GO STRAIGHT TO GLENORA.

IT WOULD BE LIKE LEAVING LEE IN QUARANTINE TO PART WITH HIM – ESPECIALLY AS HE HAS BEEN SO FRIGHTENED PAST FEW DAYS BY PHOTOGRAPHERS – AND PLANE TRIP WILL UPSET HIM.

YOU CAN LEAVE TIGER CUBS IN QUARANTINE AS THEY ARE TOO FEROCIOUS TO PLAY WITH – SO WARN CAROLINE. PLEASE GET ORVILLE FREEMAN TO LET HIM IN QUICKLY – THEY HAVE PRINCE PHILLIP’S POLO PONIES. PHILLIP TOOK THEM RIGHT HOME – SO REALLY THINK THERE WOULD BE NO CRITICISM AND IT WOULD BE (UNFAIRLY) CRUEL TO ANIMALS IF YOU LET HIM BE LOCKED UP IN NEW YORK FOR THIRTY DAYS. HE WILL GET SICK THERE. ALL PRESS WILL SAY YOU WILL LOSE ASPCA VOTE FOREVER IF HE CAN’T COME STRAIGHT TO GLENORA.

LOVE JACKIE

I could just picture President Kennedy getting this message. He would read it and by the end he’d be laughing hysterically. Leave it to Mrs. Kennedy to find a political reason to convince the president to intervene on behalf of her beloved horse. He would read the note again, shaking his head in comic disbelief, and then he would do exactly what she wanted. There was no doubt in my mind that Sardar would be grazing at Glen Ora within a week. Hell, the damn horse would probably be in Washington before I was.

THE NEXT MORNING, we were off to the legendary Khyber Pass. We traveled from Peshawar up to the pass with a motorcade convoy of about ten cars occupied by staff and press. Riding in one of the cars near the back was Mrs. Kennedy’s personal assistant, Provi Paredes. Poor Provi had a difficult time with heights, so when we began traveling up into the mountains on primitive roads with sheer thousand-foot drop-offs, she panicked. I was told later that she was screaming and carrying on so badly that the driver had no choice but to turn the car around and return her to Peshawar. She never saw the Khyber Pass.

Mrs. Kennedy, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed the thirty-four-mile thrill ride through the rugged mountains. Accompanied by the governor of West Pakistan and President Ayub Khan’s military aide, she was in a cheerful mood as we carefully navigated the hairpin turns. She thought it was a fantastic adventure.

We first arrived at the mud-walled Jamrud Fort, where bearded tribal leaders, wearing gun belts and daggers, greeted Mrs. Kennedy. Our two advance agents had worked out the details of our short visit with the Pakistan government representatives and the tribal leaders, and had agreements as to exactly what would happen. In honor of Mrs. Kennedy’s visit they had erected a large, multicolored tent at the