Jackie, Ethel, Joan: Women of Camelot (7 page)

Jack was an urbane, Harvard-educated, good-looking, Northeastern Irish Catholic—the first President of that faith in a country that was, at the time, only 26 percent Catholic. Brimming with ideals and youthful vigor—or
vig-ah
, as the Kennedys pronounced it in their Boston accents—he would usher in a new era in history, not just for this country but for the world at large. At forty-three years of age, he was the youngest President ever elected.

During his short Presidency—the New Frontier, as it was called—JFK would be best remembered for the deep sense of idealism he would rekindle in millions at the dawn of the sixties. He was a President who made Americans feel that

anything was possible. His optimism and eloquence, his ability to communicate to all Americans the possibility of a better life, made him unique in every way as he challenged Americans to look beyond the selfishness of their daily lives and focus attention on their communities, their nation, their world. Many young people would enter politics because of Kennedy’s influence. On a larger scale, Kennedy’s attempt to communicate a giving, open spirit caused many to join the Peace Corps or begin careers as teachers, nurses, and other public servants. Kennedy’s Inaugural Address that wintry day in 1961 would be widely acclaimed as the most memorable and unifying symbol of the modern political age: “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.”

Perhaps the late Laura Bergquist Knebel, who covered the Kennedys for
Look
magazine and wrote many insightful pieces about the family, said it best when, at the age of forty- five in 1963, she observed, “For the first time in my life, the President of the United States was not an Olympian-remote, grandfatherly figure, but a contemporary—brighter, wittier, more sure of his destiny and more disciplined than any of us, but still a superior equal who talked your language, read the books you read, knew the inside jokes. In a world run by old men, he was a leader born in the twentieth century, and when they said a new generation had taken over, you real- ized it was your own.”

The Five Inaugural Balls

F
ive official Inaugural Balls were held to celebrate the in- coming administration. For the first one, at the Mayflower Hotel in Washington, D.C., Jackie was spectacularly gowned in a white chiffon sheath with a bodice embroidered in silver thread, over which she wore a billowing, floor-length, white silk cape. She accessorized with long white opera gloves and dazzling diamonds borrowed from Tiffany’s. With an after- noon’s rest, her troop of beauty experts, and the aid of the Dexedrine flowing in her veins administered by her husband’s doctor, Janet Travell, an exhausted Jackie managed once again to rise from the ashes like a glittering white phoenix.

Joan and Ethel were, of course, also dressed in elegant evening gowns. Ethel’s was white with straps and matching gloves; Joan’s was white too, but with a black-sequined strapless bodice. Ethel had been concerned earlier because her gowns for the day’s and evening’s events had been stuck in the trunk of her dressmaker’s car, which was buried under heaps of snow. She was relieved to find that, once the snow was shoveled off the automobile, her expensive gowns were unharmed.

But the crowds really weren’t that interested in Joan or Ethel anyway, nor in Rose, the Kennedy sisters, or any other woman at the ball. At least in terms of exquisite glamour, this evening was all about Jackie, for she was the greatest symbol of the new Kennedy era. Or as Ethel put it to Bobby, “Jeez. They just want to touch her, don’t they? It’s like being at a wedding with the most popular bride in the world.”

Even Ethel, who was rarely impressed by Jackie, ap- peared awestruck by her sister-in-law’s charisma and beauty. In fact, there were times when she was caught star- ing at Jackie, a curious expression on her face. During these moments, she would watch the new First Lady’s every movement: the lively way she greeted boring dignitaries, as if she had found a long-lost friend; the casual way she tilted her head back when she laughed at jokes she must have known were not funny; the frosty way she stared at anyone who approached her before first greeting her husband, the President. It was as if Ethel were studying her sister-in-law in the hope that she might learn a little something—a new trick, perhaps—about the simple but not easy art of high el- egance. At one ball, a Secret Service agent noticed Ethel watching intently as Jackie stood alone, doing nothing at all. Just being Jackie.

For Joan’s part, whenever she got near Jackie, she could only gaze at her and become tongue-tied whenever she tried to speak. To Joan, it was as if her sister-in-law had undergone some magical transformation. No longer was she the worried, pregnant Jackie who needed an understanding ear while walk- ing along the beach a couple of months earlier. Now she was a completely different woman, someone who possessed so much self-confidence that it was difficult to believe she had ever experienced a confused or vulnerable moment. This new Jackie was not to be touched, certainly not to be comforted, but rather to be just looked at and adored from afar as if she were a portrait in oil crafted by a European master. As happy as she surely was for Jackie, Joan must have felt a great divide be- tween herself and this rare work of art.

Ethel felt it as well. “Jackie completely ignored me the whole night,” Ethel would later complain to Eunice, who

had sprained her ankle earlier in the week and was limping about throughout the festivities. “I would walk over to her, wanting to introduce someone, and she would look right through me. It was humiliating. At one point, I waved my hand in front of her face and said, ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’ And she just stared at me. I’m telling you,” Ethel decided, “that girl was on drugs or something.”

“Of course she was,” Eunice said. “She was sick because of the baby. And Ethie [the family’s nickname for her], do you have any idea how much pressure she was under? She was dazed the whole time.”

But as far as Ethel was concerned, Jackie was not the only one with overwhelming responsibilities that evening. “We were
all
under pressure,” she told her sister-in-law. “But
I
was friendly to everyone, just as I always am. And you know I always am!” Ethel was obviously disgruntled. “You would have thought she would be the happiest woman in the world,” Ethel continued, according to a Kennedy intimate. “But no, not Jackie Kennedy. To tell you the truth, I felt like going over to her, shaking her, and saying, ‘Would you please smile? You’re the First Lady, for goodness’ sake!’ ”

By the time the Kennedy contingent reached the third ball at the Armory, Jackie’s Dexedrine was wearing off. The crowd of one thousand people gave the First Couple a twenty-minute standing ovation, which, as Rose Kennedy later observed, “engulfed the President and First Lady with a tide of love and admiration.” As Jack and Jackie waved from their silk-draped presidential box on the balcony, a spotlight shone on the new President and the band played “Hail to the Chief.” It was a thrilling experience, but not enough to keep Jackie afloat. The blinding glare of the searchlights that had been trained on her and Jack had given

her an intense headache, even though one would never know it from the wide smile on her face for the benefit of cameras. Right behind Jackie sat her young and completely awed sister-in-law Joan, her eyes wide with astonishment at all the pomp and circumstance. She had never seen so many peo- ple, all packed shoulder to shoulder below her, gazing up at the presidential box. “It was like we were somehow differ- ent from them,” she would later recall. “A very strange feel-

ing to be stared at and cheered by so many people.”

The Kennedys were used to pageantry—though perhaps not of this magnitude—having been in politics for years, winning elections, dealing with people, being respected and the subject of great attention and even adoration. While Ethel had already seen a number of campaigns through to their conclusion, this one had been a new experience for Joan. The inaugural proceedings had the younger sister-in- law captivated. As her sister Candy put it, Joan was “like Dorothy in Oz, it was all new and exciting. But more than that, it was surreal. Joan said she spent most of the time walking around with stars in her eyes, spellbound.”

Joan was supposed to be seated next to Jackie’s stepfa- ther, Hugh “Hughdie” Auchincloss, with Ted to her left. However, because Hughdie didn’t show up—though no one seemed to know why—there was an empty seat between Joan and Jackie’s mother, the socialite Janet Auchincloss. Throughout the proceedings, Joan seemed preoccupied. Should she remain with her husband, or should she move over and sit next to the dour-looking Janet? Or was the pres- ence of Janet’s stepson, Hugh “Yusha” Auchincloss, Jr., to Janet’s right, enough to keep the older woman from looking so alone on television? For Joan, this was a predicament.

Joan glanced at Janet and then motioned to the vacant

seat. With all of the noise and lights, perhaps Janet misun- derstood Joan’s intentions and thought she was indicating that she (Janet) should move over and sit next to her. Or maybe Janet simply didn’t want Joan filling the empty seat. Whatever the case, she shot Joan a cross look so uninviting that it visibly startled the Kennedy wife. Joan quickly averted her eyes, probably hoping nobody had noticed the exchange.

Ethel, however, seated to the left of Ted, had observed ex- actly what had occurred between Joan and Janet. The next day she commented, “Jackie’s mother gave Joan a look that took the poor dear’s breath away. Now, if it were me and she had ever dared to look at me that way, I would’ve hit the old bag right over the head with my purse.”

After this ball was over, Jackie made her apologies and told Jack to go to the rest of the functions without her. She would regret it later, saying, “I was just in physical and nervous ex- haustion because the month after the baby’s birth had been the opposite of recuperation. I missed all the gala things.... I al- ways wished I could have participated more in those first shin- ing hours with him [her husband], but at least I thought I had given him the son he longed for. It was not the happy time in my life that it looks like in all the pictures. You know, you just sort of collapse. He [John Jr.] was born prematurely because of all the excitement. He was sick. I was sick.”

Ethel also begged off early, as did Joan and Ted. “I was so exhausted by the whole thing,” Joan recalled, “that my knees were weak. I felt every emotion. You were sorry it was over and glad it was over at the same time. I also won- dered: What now? What next?”

Bobby and Jack continued on to two more balls before ending the evening after midnight by stopping at columnist

Joseph Alsop’s home for a nightcap and some hastily warmed-over terrapin (turtle) soup.

Meanwhile, Ethel slept alone at Hickory Hill, perhaps dreaming of bigger and better things for herself and her hus- band.

And Jackie slept at the White House. The elegant toast of the nation was now alone with her thoughts, her pounding headache, and her sore lower back, which she treated with a heating pad. Perhaps appropriately enough, while her bed- room was being remodeled, she had taken the Queen’s Room, a guest bedroom on the second floor that was usually reserved for royal visitors—no fewer than five reigning queens had slept there at one time or another—and not ordi- narily occupied by First Ladies. She was so physically and emotionally drained that she would stay in bed for the next few days, seeming almost paralyzed by the magnitude of the life change she was about to experience.

Bobby

O
ne of the first controversies of the Kennedy administra- tion occurred just after Jack was elected, and it had to do with his decision to name his thirty-five-year-old brother, Bobby, to the post of Attorney General. Jack was adamant that Bobby deserved the position in that he had devoted the last ten years to getting Jack into the White House. How- ever, Bobby wasn’t so sure he wanted the job. “I had been chasing bad men [criminals] for three years,” he once said,

“and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life doing that.” Bobby also knew he was a hothead. As Attorney General under Jack, he might become embroiled in controversies that could reflect poorly on his brother.