Jacqueline Kennedy: Historic Conversations on Life With John F. Kennedy (15 page)

[John Kennedy, Jr., enters the room.]

John, can you talk? Hold it a little farther away from there—like that. John, you went to the airport today.

JOHN:
Yeah.

Did you like it?

JOHN:
Yes.

John, what happened to your father?

JOHN:
Well, he's gone to Heaven.

He's gone to Heaven?

JOHN:
Yeah.

Do you remember him?

JOHN:
Yeah.

What do you remember?

JOHN:
[mischievously]
I don't remember
any
-thing!

You don't remember anything? Remember when you used to come and run into his office?

JOHN:
Yeah.

And he'd play with you?

JOHN:
Yeah. Can you put John on?
³⁴

O.K., we'll put John on.

[John leaves the room.]

PRESIDENT KENNEDY AND JOHN IN THE WEST WING COLONNADE
Cecil Stoughton, White House/John F. Kennedy Library and Museum, Boston

Do you remember when the President knew he was going to be President? Did he say anything or did he just sort of take it in his stride?

Well, I think we were all out somewhere and someone yelled, "Nixon's conceded!" I think by then you sort of knew, by the votes, that it was bound—it was just sort of waiting for Nixon to concede, wasn't it?

Yes.

So, well, when it came, what could you do? I mean, you know, we hugged each other.

Would you say he was a religious man?

Oh, yes. Well, I mean, he never missed church one Sunday that we were married or all that—but you could see partly—I often used to think whether it was superstition or not—I mean he wasn't quite sure, but if it was that way, he wanted to have that on his side.

Pascal's wager.
³⁵

But I remember once he said to me something Somerset Maugham said: "Suffering doesn't ennoble, it embitters." So I don't know whether—he ever—must have had a few talks with God—I don't know if he did—just thinking, "Why does all this have to happen to me?" But he never said that. I think you couldn't be brought up the way he was without just thinking—

Well, obviously he accepted the religious sort of structure of existence and belief in a God and he believed that—he liked his children to be raised as good Catholics, and believed in Sunday Mass, and so on.

I mean, I know he wasn't an atheist or an agnostic or anything. No, he did believe in God but he didn't—You know, like all of us, you don't really start to think about those things until something terrible happens to you. And, you know, I think God's unjust now and I think he must have thought that along— He used to say his prayers—really—

He'd say prayers every night?

Yeah, but he'd do it so quickly it was really a little ritualistic thing. He'd come in and kneel on the edge of the bed—kneel on top of the bed and say them, you know. Take about three seconds—cross himself. That was—I don't remember him doing that in the White House. But, you know, it was obviously—it was just like a little childish mannerism, I suppose like brushing your teeth or something. It's just a habit. But I thought that was so sweet. It used to amuse me so—standing there.

Did he ever have any close friends in the clergy?

Not really his friends. I know Bishop Hannan he saw, but I guess that was more because of politics and everything down here—that's the one he always liked the most. Oh, and then Father Cavanaugh was a great friend of his father's and, you know, was a rather liberal priest.
³⁶
He liked him.

Bishop Wright in Worcester?

Oh, yes, he liked him very much. And of course, he loved Cardinal Spellman
³⁷
after—

He really liked—I didn't—really?

In the beginning when we got married, I know they were having a big fight, but by the time he was President he liked him.

Did he?

What Cardinal Spellman did—you know, he was just so for Jack, and then he made all those speeches about—he really changed. Because he'd been such a conservative churchman. Kenny O'Donnell told me that Cardinal Cushing
³⁸
used to make speeches—"Any boy who doesn't go to a Catholic college . . . " and point his finger at Kenny, who was in his parish, because Kenny went to Harvard. Then Cardinal Cushing changed and when all those—

Oh, you mean Cush—I thought you were talking about Spellman—

Oh, did I say Spellman?

Yes.

Oh, my goodness!

That's why I was surprised.

[laughs]
Oh, no, I meant Cushing—I couldn't have said Spellman. Oh, no.

Well, of course he changed. Absolutely.

Yeah, and he said all the things—the right things—what a Catholic should be saying. And he did not like Cardinal Spellman.

No, that was my impression because I significantly recall hearing him on Cardinal Spellman. No, Cushing was very loyal. Cushing has a sort of exuberance of temperament, doesn't he?

Yeah, and he's very funny—I mean, he's sort of
Last Hurrah
-ish and the crusty way he speaks. So I'd say he was devoted to Cushing and Cushing to him.

But this came on along later, didn't it, because as you say at the beginning Cushing was not that way. Remember Monsignor Lally of the Boston
Pilot
? Was he ever—?

I don't remember him—or even his name.

And what about Spellman?

Oh, Mr. Kennedy—why didn't he like Spellman? Didn't he have Nixon to the Al Smith dinner? You know, he so obviously was against Jack. How could you like him? And his little mincing ways. You know, he really was trying to just slit Jack's throat all the time and wouldn't be a help. Wasn't the Puerto Rican bishops or something—
³⁹

Yes.

Put out a big—Cushing would make the right statement and answer to that, but Spellman never would. So many of the Catholics were so to the right—to the right of Goldwater. Spellman was one of them. And now he's left in the backwash—in the new wave of the Church.
⁴⁰
I'm so pleased!

Such a shame that the President and Pope John never met.

I know.

What happened at confessional?

Oh, well, when Jack would go to confession, there'd be long lines at Christmas and Easter, and he'd have a Secret Service man go stand in line for him. You'd have to stand about an hour, then he'd come over and just slip in the line, so nobody really knew who he was. The priest never knew. That was in Florida, at Christmas and Easter. It would be at a little church in West Palm Beach—not the church that we usually went to on Sundays. So he went to confession—you know, like anyone would.

It's amazing how it was done without—

Once he told me, as a joke, that sometimes priests would make you go to confession right before a communion breakfast, and he'd always say, "I forgot my noon prayers," and "I missed Mass on Wednesday," as his sins because—you wouldn't want some men in front of the whole room. But, I mean, he was so funny about it. But he really cared. He always did that. Again, was it superstition, or training, or what? I mean, lots of times I wouldn't go.

It always seemed to me that Bobby was more religious than the President.

Oh yes. Much. I mean, you know, go to things like First Friday, or Ethel would.
⁴¹

I
think we stopped last time at Hyannis Port on the day of the election. You stayed there for a couple of days, as I recall. I know Marian and I came down for luncheon on the Friday after the election.

Oh, yeah. I didn't realize that was after the election.

And then, I think, on that afternoon you went to Palm Beach.

I guess Jack went to Palm Beach and I went back to Washington because I was going to have John any minute.

That's right.

So he must have gone to Florida for a couple of days for a rest, then he'd come back to Washington. Yes, and then when he came back Thanksgiving—he was back and forth all the time—and then Thanksgiving he came back. We drove all down to the country that day around Middleburg
¹
to look for a house to rent and then he went back that evening and I had John late that night.

What was the date of John?

It was November
25
—it was Thanksgiving Day. So then he came back that night—just turned around his plane—and then he stayed at our house in Georgetown all the time, sort of forming his cabinet and everything and marching over to the hospital about three times a day.
²

What do you remember about the formation of the cabinet?

Well, it's rather difficult because I was in the hospital all the time, so I'd just see all those people—pictures of them all, standing in the snow outside our house, and then he'd come over and tell me about some of them—McNamara
³
and everyone. I remember when we went down to Florida, December
20
, Dean Rusk
⁴
came that first night. We had dinner—it was just Jack and I there then. We had dinner alone with him. And then, I think, Jack was either trying to get him then—or had Dean Rusk accepted and they were talking?

The President was for a long time uncertain as between Rusk and Bill Fulbright.

That's right. I remember. Then that conference in Florida, where Caroline walked in with her shoes on. That was when Senator Fulbright
⁵
was there, I suppose, to tell him he couldn't be or something?

THE CABINET IS SWORN IN BY CHIEF JUSTICE EARL WARREN, JANUARY 21, 1961
Hank Walker,
Time
&
Life
Pictures/Getty Images/John F. Kennedy Library and Museum, Boston

I think that Bobby was opposed to Fulbright on the ground that Fulbright, because of his position on segregation, wouldn't be, you know, hot for Africa.

Oh, what do you think? Do you think it's too bad that Fulbright wasn't chosen?

My personal view is yes.

Me too.

How did Rusk strike you? The President had not known Rusk before.

No. Well, he was very quiet—you know, they were talking. I just sort of stayed for dinner and then went back to bed. You see, that's a time that I won't be very good on because I was really quite weak and we had one little bedroom in the back of the house—and then the Kennedys all came back and then it was just a madhouse. So I'd really see Jack in our room and—I was really in bed most of the time. Dean Rusk, you know, I thought he was—he seems to be a rather compassionate man. I've always thought that about him and—I don't know. When you meet him, you think much more of him than when you know things he could have done and isn't doing.

That's absolutely right because he gives the impression of great intelligence and he's always awfully good in defining a situation. He's much less good in saying what should be done about it.

He's terribly scared to make a decision. I think what you really need is a strong secretary of state. I can't remember, we did speak about that in the tape before—but how it used to drive Jack crazy in the White House—how he'd ask for some routine answer to something the Russians had done. I think this was after Vienna.
⁶
It was taking six weeks to get it out or eleven drafts and he used to say, "Bundy
⁷
and I do more work in the White House in one day than they do over there in six months." And Dean Rusk seemed to be overtaken by that apathy and fear of making the wrong decision that so many people in the State Department have. So he really turned out not to be so satisfactory. But Jack—he was loyal and, you know, Jack just felt a terrible guilt—I mean, he wondered—I know I told you this before—of how he could get him out the next time without hurting him.

No, but you told me—but not on the tape, so go ahead.

Well, he was always wondering who he could have as secretary of state the next time. He was toying with so many people in his head. McNamara was one, but that wasn't really definite—Bundy?—but just someone strong there. And then he would feel so badly about Dean Rusk and I'd say, "Couldn't he go back to the Rockefeller Foundation?" and Jack would say, "No, no" —you know—"he's really cut his bridges there." He was so kind. He didn't want to hurt the man, but he just knew something had to be done there. And now I keep reading in the papers—I don't know if it's true or not—that Lyndon loves Dean Rusk.

I think Johnson will find the same thing and that—the trouble is the contrast between Rusk and McNamara, because McNamara always has the capacity, first, to control his own department and then to make recommendations, and speak about things with clarity, come up with ideas and get things done. I think the President used to feel: if only he had a McNamara instinct.

Yeah. Oh, there were so many things he was going to do. I was just thinking. He was going to get rid of J. Edgar Hoover—who's just been signed up again.
⁸
The next tape we do, I'll have a list because I wrote them down the other night of—about five, six things he was going to do this time.

Oh, was he?

And you know, they've all been done the wrong way.

Um-hmm. McNamara was absolutely new, you figure. I don't think the President ever had met him—had he before?

No, and he told me McNamara asked him one thing. They came in for their little conference in our tiny Georgetown house, and the first thing McNamara asked him was, "Did you really write
Profiles in Courage
?" and Jack said he had. And which again shows—that's why I told you I was so angry at Ted Sorensen—that just seed of doubt. And then McNamara really had this worship for Jack, and then he said, well fine, that he'd love to be it.

He was offered the Treasury, I think, originally.

Was he? I know that Lovett was offered his choice between State, Defense, and Treasury, and he couldn't take either, and Jack said, "You know, that really is quite a tribute to a man to think that he could have any of those three, but he just was too sick."
⁹
And then the big thing with Governor Stevenson wanting State but telling him that he had to have the UN. That was rather—I can remember Jack telling me about that.

How did it—did that give him a lot of difficulty—the President—or was he rather amused by it all?

You know, it was unpleasant. I mean, he didn't like having to do it or anything, but he wasn't going to give him the State Department. I remember the earliest times when we spoke of it, you knew that Governor Stevenson would get the UN and not State, which he wanted. But it's sort of unpleasant to have to tell someone that. And I remember their conference on the doorstep was rather vague or Stevenson said he didn't have anything to say, or something funny. You can go back and find out what it was.
¹⁰

Why do you suppose he decided not—against Stevenson for State?

Well, why should he give him—Stevenson had never lifted one finger to help him. But yet, it wasn't just bitterness or that, because look at all the people Jack took who had been against him or for someone else. He thought that man had a real disease of being unable to make up his mind and Stevenson irritated him. I don't think he could have borne to have him around every day coming in complaining as secretary of state about something. I mean, it would have been an awfully difficult relationship, and I think it would have just driven Jack crazy and—I really don't think Stevenson would have been as good as Fulbright. I don't think he'd have been terribly different from Dean Rusk. Maybe he would have.

I think also—I think one thing that was in his mind was the purpose of having people who'd be—who have strength on the Hill for the measures. And I think that's one reason why Fulbright appealed to him because he thought the fact that the Senate knew Fulbright would mean that they'd have confidence.

Oh, yeah. Oh, poor Fulbright. If only he'd been picked—yeah, then Lyndon would like him and everything. And Fulbright was—yes, he was right. I remember he was the one—practically the only person who agreed with Jack—or who was against the Bay of Pigs?
¹¹

That's right. Um-hmm. The only one who spoke out against it firmly in one of the meetings.

Yeah. Though apparently at the second meeting he thought it might be all right, but you know, he sort of agreed at the end. But still—I think a lot of Fulbright.

When did Dillon
¹²
come into the picture?

Well, sometime around then—but again, I was in the hospital.

But you'd known the Dillons in Washington.

Oh, yes.

But not terribly well, I gather.

Not terribly well, but as well as we knew anyone. I mean, we'd been to their house for dinner a few times and I knew Phyllis Dillon. So they were one of the few people whose house we went to dinner to—occasionally, as sort of a friend, but never terribly close. And now I'd say of all the cabinet once we were in the White House, they were really our best friends. The only ones we really saw in the evening or at our private parties were them and McNamara—the McNamaras. But the Dillons were the only ones we ever had dinner with just the four of us. The McNamaras and the Dillons would come to the private parties—those dances and things.

Did putting Bobby in the cabinet cause a lot of—

Oh, that was awful because—I suppose that was Mr. Kennedy completely. Bobby told me that once, after November, the weeks before we left the White House. He said it was Mr. Kennedy who really did it—and he said Bobby didn't think it would be good for Jack and Jack could see the problems it presented, though he never would say that to Bobby. And Bobby really went into this sort of slump that people say he was in since Jack's death. He didn't know what he wanted to do and again he wanted to go away and teach. He just didn't want it and finally—you know, he'd keep saying no or, he hadn't decided, or this or that, and finally one day Jack just called him in and said, "Well, you have to," or something, and it was decided. That shows you what Bobby is like and how he was just doing everything he could to get out of it, whereas Eunice was pestering Jack to death to make Sargent head of HEW because she wanted to be a cabinet wife.
¹³
You know, it shows you some people are ambitious for themselves and Bobby wasn't.