Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir (53 page)

The casket was placed in the center of the Rotunda, and as members of the Congress, family, and friends observed, the moving ceremony began.

During one of the eulogies, John became rambunctious. He didn’t understand what was going on, why he wasn’t allowed to talk. He had been told, of course, that his father was gone, and not coming back, but he really didn’t understand at all. So two of the children’s detail agents took him to a nearby office to try to keep him occupied.

Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield stepped up to the podium, just a few feet away from Mrs. Kennedy and Caroline, and began to speak.

“There was a sound of laughter,” he began. “In a moment, it was no more. And so she took a ring from her finger and placed it in his hands.

“There was a wit in a man neither young nor old,” Mansfield continued, “but a wit full of an old man’s wisdom and of a child’s wisdom, and then, in a moment it was no more. And so she took a ring from her finger and placed it in his hands.”

His voice started to break, but he continued.

“There was a husband who asked much and gave much, and out of the giving and the asking wove with a woman what could not be broken in life, and in a moment it was no more. And so she took a ring from her finger and placed it in his hands, and kissed him and closed the lid of a coffin.

“A piece of each of us died at that moment.”

Mansfield went on to speak of the things President Kennedy gave to all of us, the things he stood for. It was incredibly moving and emotional for all who were there.

A large presidential wreath was brought out, and President Johnson, with his head bowed, placed it at the end of the casket.

The room was silent as Mrs. Kennedy, holding hands with Caroline, walked up to the casket. Mrs. Kennedy touched the casket with her black-gloved hand
and knelt, as Caroline, watching her mother, did the same with her own little white-gloved hand. They knelt together and kissed the flag that covered the casket, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

The ceremony concluded, and we returned to the White House. Now the president’s body would lie in state, allowing the public to file past and pay their respects. The funeral and burial would take place the next day, Monday, November 25.

I
KNEW
M
RS
. Kennedy wanted to walk some of the way in the funeral procession but I did not know the details. SAIC Behn called me and said, “Clint, are you aware of what Mrs. Kennedy intends to do during the funeral procession?”

“Well, yes, she has mentioned that she intends to walk part of the way.”

“That is really going to create a problem,” he said. “We have I don’t know how many heads of state coming from all over the world, not to mention every high-ranking official in the U.S. government, including President Johnson. And if she walks, they will feel compelled to walk.”

“Believe me, I understand, Jerry. But, if that is her intent, rest assured that is what she will do.”

“Listen, we really need your help. This funeral is going to stretch our security capabilities to the max as it is. Will you please try to talk her out of it? You are the only one who even has a chance.”

“I’ll try Jerry, but when she makes up her mind to do something, there’s little chance of talking her out of it.”

She was upstairs in the residence, so I called and told her I needed to speak with her.

“Come on up. I’ll be in the Treaty Room,” she said.

I took the elevator to the second floor and walked down the hall to the Treaty Room. She was waiting in there for me.

“Hello, Mr. Hill. Come in,” she said. She was pale and drawn; her face looked incredibly sad. It was like she was there, but she wasn’t. She was cordial, and in control, and clearly capable of making decisions, but her spirit was gone.

I suppose some people may have said the same thing about me.

“Mrs. Kennedy, I’ve been told you intend to walk in the funeral procession tomorrow and I wanted to clarify what exactly it is that you intend to do.”

“Oh Mr. Hill, you are always looking for the little details in everything. Are you concerned?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Well, don’t worry, I’ve decided not to walk all the way, only from the White House to St. Matthew’s.”

“Mrs. Kennedy, there is a lot of concern about other people who might decide to walk, if you walk. Heads of state, for example.”

“Well, Mr. Hill, they can ride or do whatever they want to. I’m walking behind the president to St. Matthew’s.”

I knew that determination in her voice. Oh how well I knew it. She had made up her mind, and nobody was going to be able to talk her out of it.

“Okay, Mrs. Kennedy. Thank you for telling me your plans.”

I left, returned to my office, and called SAIC Behn.

“Jerry, I’ve talked to Mrs. Kennedy and she does intend to walk during the funeral procession tomorrow, but only from the White House to St. Matthew’s.”

“No chance to talk her out of it, Clint?” he asked.

“Believe me, Jerry. Nothing is going to change her mind. She is walking.”

L
ATER THAT DAY
, Prince Radziwill, Mrs. Kennedy’s brother-in-law, arrived from Europe. I was in my office the evening of Sunday, November 24, when the phone rang.

“Clint Hill,” I answered.

“Oh, Mr. Hill,” the familiar voice began—which meant to me, I was about
to be asked to do something not in my job description—“Stash has just arrived from Europe and really wants to pay his respects to the president. Do you think you can arrange it?”

“I’ll do what I can, Mrs. Kennedy,” I replied. “What exactly does he want to do?”

“He wants to go to the Capitol and I’ve heard you can’t get in for hours. Can you help him?”

“When does he want to go?”

“He is ready now.”

“Tell him to come down to the Diplomatic Reception Room and I’ll take him to the Capitol.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hill.”

I called for a White House car, Stash came down, and we were driven to the Capitol. He and the president had been close. I too had gotten to know Stash well over the past three years, and we had shared some memorable experiences. Tonight we were sharing a deep and profound loss.

Mrs. Kennedy had been right. The wait to get in to view the casket in the Rotunda was hours. Hundreds of thousands of people had lined up for the opportunity to circle around President Kennedy’s casket. People eight abreast in a line that stretched forty blocks.

I escorted the prince past all the people, and took him right into the Rotunda where the president lay in state. I identified myself and explained to the officer in charge of the honor guard who Stash was, and he was permitted to approach the casket, pray, and pay his respects.

On the way back to the White House, he said, “Thank you, Clint. I’ll never forget what you did for me.” He was very emotional, and it tore me apart.

T
HE NEXT DAY
, November 25, was John’s third birthday. Both President and Mrs. Kennedy had been planning on making it a special day for him. They had each mentioned it to John as we left for Texas four days earlier. Instead we were taking John, along with his mother and sister, to his father’s funeral.

How sad,
I thought.
John will go through life remembering November twenty-fifth more for the day his father was buried than for it being his birthday.

The number of people wanting to pay their respects to the president at the Capitol was so vast that the hours had been extended through the night. The doors finally
closed at 9:00
A.M.
There would barely be enough time to get everything ready for the ceremony, remove the president’s body from the Capitol, place it back on the caisson, and return to the White House, where the world leaders were gathering. The schedule called for Mrs. Kennedy and the children to leave the White House at 9:45
A.M.
and drive to the Capitol. The ceremony would be brief, and by 10:00
A.M.
the procession from the Capitol to the White House would begin.

Mrs. Kennedy decided it would be best if Caroline and John did not go to the Capitol this morning for the short ceremony. She and the president’s brothers, Bobby and Ted, would go alone and the children would remain at the White House. Sergeant Watkins brought Mrs. Kennedy’s Chrysler limousine to the North Portico. I got in the front passenger seat, with the three of them in the back, and we drove out the Northeast Gate onto Pennsylvania Avenue and down to the Capitol.

The avenue was lined with people the entire way. More than 250,000 of them had gone through the Rotunda since the president lay in state, and more would have, if time had permitted.

We arrived at the Capitol, marched up the steps, and entered the Rotunda. I stood back as Mrs. Kennedy and the two brothers went directly to the casket, knelt, and prayed. They rose, and we all walked back out the same door, down the steps, and waited at the ground level as the casket was lifted off the bier and brought down the steps. Once again my thoughts were with the honor guard, carrying this very heavy casket down that long set of stairs. It was obviously very difficult, but they made it, and placed it back onto the caisson. The cortege was formed and the procession began to move from the Capitol to the White House.

As we progressed slowly up Pennsylvania Avenue, the size of the crowd increased and the silence emanating from the teary-eyed people was deafening. We arrived at the White House to find a sea of people comprised of the diplomatic corps and two hundred foreign dignitaries from nearly one hundred countries around the world. They had traveled from Europe and Asia, from Africa and Australia, as well as North and South America. There were princes and princesses, kings and queens, presidents and vice presidents, prime ministers and foreign ministers. But the names really told the story. Charles de Gaulle, Haile Selassie, Prince Philip, Queen Frederika, King Baudouin of Belgium, Berlin mayor Willy Brandt, and Ireland’s president, Éamon de Valera to name a few. Included in this mass of humanity was Lyndon Johnson, the new president, and his wife, Lady Bird.

All of these people had gathered to accompany Mrs. Kennedy as she walked behind the caisson that carried the president’s body, from the White House to St. Matthew’s Cathedral.

The security was complex, to say the least. Many of the leaders had come with their own security personnel, and they were mixed in with people who had been brought in from all areas of the U.S. government to assist the State Department, which was responsible for protecting visiting heads of state. Nearly every Secret Service agent from around the country—more than 250 of them—had flown in to help.

The procession left the White House led by a company of U.S. Marines. Next came nine pipers from the Scottish Black Watch, their bagpipes belting out the songs of Ireland the president so loved, as they marched ahead of the six gray-and-white horses pulling the caisson bearing the president’s body. Next came the presidential flag, followed by Black Jack, the riderless horse.

The walking procession came next, led by Mrs. Kennedy, Bobby and Ted Kennedy, flanked by Paul Landis on the left and me on the right. The various heads of state were to follow, but at the last minute Mrs. Kennedy decided she wanted Caroline and John, who were riding in the Chrysler limousine, to be close to her. They had been behind President Johnson and the mass of world leaders, so Agents Tom Wells and Bob Foster worked their way through the dignitaries to get the car up front. Now the procession could begin.

The haunting bagpipes started to play, and we walked.