Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir (46 page)

I immediately went to the lower level of the West Wing, where the White House Transportation Office was gathering baggage, and dropped off my suitcase. From this point on I wouldn’t have to worry about my bags. When I
arrived at my hotel room that night, all of my stuff would be there, waiting for me. There was no such thing as lost or misplaced luggage when you traveled on Air Force One.

At about 10:40 I heard the unmistakable sound of the helicopter landing on the South Lawn. I put out my cigarette, gathered the portfolio with all the details of the trip, and headed to the Diplomatic Reception Room to prepare to board the presidential helicopter.

It was always an impressive sight to see the Marine helicopter land right there on the lawn at the White House. And no one loved it more than John. As if on cue, the tousle-haired little boy came running in with Agent Bob Foster, as the president and Mrs. Kennedy followed closely behind.

“Hey John,” I said. “Are you coming on the chopper?”

He looked up at me with the biggest grin you can imagine and said, “Yeah! Look!” He pointed out the French doors. “There it is!”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and everybody laughed.

It had become habit now—almost every time the president left the White House, he would ask one of the children’s agents to bring John for the short ride to Andrews Air Force Base. President Kennedy got such a kick out of seeing John’s enthusiasm on the helicopter. I don’t know who enjoyed it more—the president or his son.

As soon as the chopper touched down, the pilot powered down the rotors. When the Navy aide standing at the portico gave us the “okay” sign, we filed into the helicopter, which, as soon as the president boarded, became Marine One.

It was a short six-minute ride to Andrews, where pilot Colonel Jim Swindal had the presidential aircraft ready to go, engines running. It certainly was an impressive plane—with the blue, silver, and white theme that Mrs. Kennedy had had a hand in designing—and the proud
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
boldly painted on the side. At times I still had to pinch myself that I was one of the privileged few who got to ride on Air Force One—on a regular basis. Only the presidential party and the shift agents assigned to the president and first lady would ride on Air Force One. Paul Landis was assigned to the backup plane with the afternoon shift agents. The president’s midnight shift agents were already headed to Fort Worth to set up security for our arrival there later in the evening.

The entire day’s itinerary was timed to the minute, and we had left the White House a few minutes late, so there was no time to delay.

“Okay, good-bye, John,” the president said as he leaned over and gave his son a hug.

“I want to come,” John whined. Tears welled in his eyes.

Mrs. Kennedy kissed him on the cheek and said, “It’s just a few days, darling. And when we come back, it will be your birthday.”

Wiping away a tear, she added brightly, “Maybe we’ll have a surprise or two.”

This didn’t appease John in the slightest. He was really crying now. Oh, how he wanted to go on the big plane with Mummy and Daddy.

President Kennedy leaned over and gently patted his son on the leg. “John, like Mummy said, we’ll be back in a few days.”

Then the president stood up and looked at Agent Bob Foster, who had slid into the seat next to John.

“Take care of John for me, won’t you, Mr. Foster?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” Foster replied. “I’ll be glad to do that.”

John continued to cry as the president and Mrs. Kennedy exited the helicopter. Before I got off, I gave a quick look around to make sure nobody had left anything.

“Bye-bye, John,” I said. “You have fun with Mr. Foster now, okay? We’ll be back in a few days.”

We’ll be back in a few days . . .

O
N THE FLIGHT
to San Antonio, I sat in the aft cabin next to Roy Kellerman, the Assistant Special Agent in Charge (ASAIC) of the White House Detail. Forty-eight-year-old Kellerman was the supervising Secret Service agent on the trip, and just as I would be with Mrs. Kennedy the entire time, so would Kellerman be with the president. Kellerman was in his twenty-third year with the Secret Service and was one of the agents we all really looked up to. Extremely detail-oriented and methodical, he had started as a shift agent with President Franklin D. Roosevelt, and had risen through the ranks while serving under presidents Truman, Eisenhower, and now Kennedy. At six foot four, with gray-streaked black hair, a leathered complexion, and steely eyes, he was an imposing figure—of all the agents, he probably had the most intimidating appearance of any of us. President Kennedy trusted him completely.

The Air Force One stewards served a light lunch to all on board. It was good to get something to eat because once the activity of the day began, we agents
never knew when we’d get our next meal. When the opportunity presents itself, take advantage because it may be a long time until you have that chance again.

At 1:30
P.M.
local time, we landed at San Antonio Airport. I looked out the window to see what awaited us.

“Take a look at that crowd,” I said to Kellerman. “I bet there are five thousand people there.”

“And that’s just the airport,” he said as he got up out of his seat. “Last word I got was that the police were expecting a hundred and twenty-five thousand along the motorcade route.”

It wasn’t anything we hadn’t dealt with before. I just hoped Mrs. Kennedy had gotten some rest on the flight. It was going to be a long day. When Mrs. Kennedy emerged from the presidential cabin, she had changed into a short-sleeved white suit with a narrow black belt, and elbow-length white gloves. Knowing we would be riding in the open convertible, she had put on a black, beret-style hat to keep her hair from blowing in the wind.

When President and Mrs. Kennedy emerged from the rear door of the aircraft, the crowd went wild. Vice President and Mrs. Johnson and Governor John Connally and his wife, Nellie, were lined up at the bottom of the stairs to greet them in a formal procession. Everybody knew their places. It had all been planned down to the minute and arrivals like this were almost always the same.

The president and Mrs. Kennedy acknowledged the large crowd with waves and smiles, as the agents formed an envelope of protection around them. Not too close, but within an arm’s length, at all times. The schedule called for them to proceed directly to the waiting limousine, but the people behind the fence line were screaming and waving signs that said
KENNEDY IN
’64. In typical fashion, President Kennedy couldn’t resist going to the fence to shake some hands.

Mrs. Kennedy took me completely by surprise and followed the president toward the crowd. She had never done this before. This was the kind of thing she tried to avoid. I stayed close to her as she followed the president’s lead, tentatively reaching her gloved hand into the crowd. Ladies were shrieking at the sight of the president and calling out “Jackie! Jackie!”

Mrs. Kennedy had indicated to me that she wanted to help her husband and I guess this was one way she was doing so. I thought back to our conversation at Atoka and her concerns.

Do you think the climate in Dallas is so hostile to the president that the people could mistreat us like they did Adlai?

No indication of that here in San Antonio,
I thought. You couldn’t ask for a friendlier or more exuberant crowd.

The motorcade vehicles were lined up ready to go, in a set procession, as outlined in the White House Advance Manual, which every White House Detail Secret Service agent carried. Two Secret Service vehicles had been flown to San Antonio ahead of time—the presidential limousine and the Secret Service follow-up car—while standard cars had been leased locally for the vice president and other members of the party.

After a few minutes, the president waved good-bye, and he and Mrs. Kennedy took their seats in the limousine with Governor and Mrs. Connally.

The midnight-blue Secret Service parade limousine, SS-100-X, which we had been using since March 1961, was specifically designed for motorcades like this. SS-100-X was the most advanced presidential parade limousine of its time. The Ford Motor Company and Hess & Eisenhardt had taken a standard Lincoln Continental convertible and modified it, using specifications provided by the Secret Service. The original wheelbase of 133 inches was extended to 156 inches—with the extra room all being in the rear passenger compartment; built-in jump seats in front of the rear seat allowed for additional passengers; a hydraulic lift allowed the president to be raised nearly a foot higher if he so desired; a loudspeaker system could be used to address a crowd.

Then of course, there were the various roofs—the metal roof, a convertible top, and the Plexiglas “bubbletop.” There was a roll bar that ran from one side of the car to the other, above and slightly to the rear of the front seat, which provided support and acted as the fastening device for the different tops. What we had come to realize, in the past two and a half years of using the car, however, was that while it made for a great handlebar for the president to hold on to while standing in the car during a motorcade, its presence made it extremely difficult, almost impossible, for the agent in the right front seat to be able to get into the rear compartment, in the case of an emergency.

One final drawback of this unique car was that, with the modifications, its weight had been increased from 5,215 lbs to 7,800 pounds, without passengers. And the specially designed 350-horsepower engine, although adequate for normal use, did not facilitate quick acceleration.

What was most useful, from the Secret Service standpoint, were the special handles on the trunk and the steps on the rear bumper area where two additional agents could ride, and have immediate access to the occupants, should the
need arise. But, as I’d been told the day before, the president did not want us there, on the back of the car.

The Agent in Charge always rode in the right front passenger seat of the presidential vehicle, while the rest of the agents in the motorcade rode in the follow-up car—the large 1956 Cadillac convertible we called Halfback. Like SS-100-X, it had been modified with some special features. It could hold nine people in seats and had running boards along both sides, which, when you were standing on them, provided an elevated vantage point to observe the ever-present crowds. The running boards also served as launching platforms to get off and on the vehicle. Handholds attached to the edge of the windshield frame aided in our movement back onto the car.

Behind the front seat, built into the divider from the rear, was a cabinet that held additional armaments. On this day, the AR-15 rifle was there.

Normally President and Mrs. Kennedy would ride side-by-side alone on the rear bench seat, with guests occupying the jump seats. For some reason, Mrs. Connally joined the president and Mrs. Kennedy on the rear seat, while the governor sat in front of them, in the jump seat. It was a cloudless, sunny day, perfect weather for a political parade—and ideal for 100X to have no top on at all. Just the way President Kennedy liked it.

It seemed that half the city of San Antonio had come out to watch the president drive by. They lined the streets with
WELCOME JACK AND JACKIE
signs, screaming and hollering all along the motorcade route from the airport to Brooks Air Force Base.

I was riding on Halfback, immediately behind the presidential vehicle, with the agents on the 8:00–4:00 shift from the president’s detail. Standing in the forward position on the left running board of the follow-up car, next to driver Agent Sam Kinney, this put me in close proximity to Mrs. Kennedy, who was seated on the left side of the presidential limousine, and gave me a somewhat elevated position from which to observe the crowd. There was an agent standing behind me, two others on the right running board, two agents in the backseat, and Emory Roberts, the 8:00–4:00 shift leader, was in the right front passenger seat.

As we traveled from San Antonio International Airport through the streets of the city, there were many places where the crowd was so dense that the people had spilled into the street. These were the situations in which I’d seen a mass of people surge toward the car, changing an otherwise peaceful motorcade into a swarm of chaos. It could happen in an instant. So, whenever I saw a particularly
dense crowd alongside the road, I would jump off the running board, run to catch up with the presidential vehicle, and run alongside so that I was between Mrs. Kennedy and the people, until the crowds thinned. This could go on for a block, or a mile. Jump off, run, jog along for a while, fall back to the follow-up car, jump back on the running board. Off and on, on and off, for fifteen miles. The Florsheims were getting a good workout.

We arrived at Brooks Air Force Base, where another nine thousand people cheered as President and Mrs. Kennedy entered the stage area. The president made a speech to dedicate the Aerospace Medical Center, the program concluded, and we were back in the vehicles for another motorcade to Kelly Air Force Base where Air Force One, the vice president’s plane, and the backup plane had been moved from the San Antonio airport.

At this point, the 4:00–midnight shift took over the president’s protection, and the morning shift—Emory Roberts’s 8:00–4:00 shift—headed to the venue in Houston to set up security in advance of the president’s arrival. Paul Landis and I didn’t have any replacement shift, so we carried on—me handling the motorcades and Paul moving ahead to our destination.