Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir (47 page)

Read Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir Online

Authors: Clint Hill,Lisa McCubbin

Tags: #General, #United States, #Political, #Biography, #History, #Non-Fiction, #Politics, #Biography & Autobiography, #United States - Officials and Employees, #20th century, #Presidents & Heads of State, #Onassis; Jacqueline Kennedy - Friends and Associates, #Hill; Clint, #Presidents' Spouses - Protection - United States, #Presidents' Spouses

Everybody boarded their respective planes and flew to Houston—a thirty-five-minute flight. The first stop had been a success, and on board Air Force One, the president was thrilled. When we landed in Houston, we did the whole routine all over again—complete with Vice President and Mrs. Johnson and Governor and Mrs. Connally greeting the President and Mrs. Kennedy as they got off Air Force One.

There was a large, friendly, and enthusiastic crowd at the airport—nearly twice as many people as had been in San Antonio. And as before, President and Mrs. Kennedy willfully went to the fence line to greet the people who had come out to give them such a warm welcome.

I guess this is how you win votes and elections—shaking as many hands as possible, hoping that brief personal connection will turn into a vote.

I could tell Mrs. Kennedy was a bit tired, but she really seemed to be enjoying it.

After several minutes, it was time to pile into the cars again for the motorcade into the city to the Rice Hotel. There hadn’t been time to securely transport SS-100-X and the follow-up car, so they were sent on to Dallas, to be used the following day. In Houston, the cars were standard Lincoln convertibles loaned to the Secret Service by the local dealer. The presidential vehicle was a bit tight as President and Mrs. Kennedy and the governor squeezed into the backseat,
while Mrs. Connally was jammed in the front seat between driver Agent Bill Greer and ASAIC Kellerman. Not much room to move.

The follow-up was also a standard Lincoln convertible, which was not very efficient for the agents working the motorcade. I sat on top of the car frame, with my legs straddling the door, one inside and one out. When the crowds were bigger, and I thought I might have to jump off quickly, I’d move to a sidesaddle position. It was awkward, and uncomfortable as hell. Running alongside the presidential vehicle was preferable, but it was impossible to run and keep up the entire way.

At the Rice Hotel another huge crowd was waiting to greet President and Mrs. Kennedy. More hand-shaking in the crowd, and then up to the suite that had been arranged for them to rest and relax for a few hours before the evening’s activities.

Mrs. Kennedy’s hair was windblown from having been in the open-top cars, and I could see in her eyes that she was somewhat drained.

“How are you doing, Mrs. Kennedy?” I asked. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Hill, I’m fine. It’s been such a wonderful day, hasn’t it? I do need a rest, though, or I imagine I’ll collapse later this evening.”

“Well, just let me know if you need anything.”

I waited outside the suite with ASAIC Roy Kellerman as various people came and went. Ken O’Donnell and Dave Powers, the special assistants to the president—and both longtime friends—conferred with President Kennedy, while Mary Gallagher assisted Mrs. Kennedy. They rested, ate dinner, and changed clothes. At one point the president called for Vice President and Mrs. Johnson to join them in the suite, and after a short visit the Johnsons left to attend the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) dinner within the hotel.

The schedule called for the president and Mrs. Kennedy to drop by the LULAC reception at 8:20
P.M.
On my copy, Mrs. Kennedy had written in red pencil:
Speech?

At 8:40
P.M.
the president and Mrs. Kennedy came out of the suite, smiling, and joking with Ken O’Donnell and Dave Powers.

Mrs. Kennedy had changed into an elegant black cut-velvet dress, with long sleeves and a neckline that accentuated her three-strand string of pearls. She had touched up her makeup and her hair was once again perfectly coiffed. She looked stunning.

Members of the hotel staff had lined the corridor, and as we walked past
them to the elevators, the president smiled and said “Hello” as he guided Mrs. Kennedy, his hand gently on her elbow.

Kellerman and I escorted them to the LULAC dinner on the second floor of the hotel for a surprise visit. The president spoke briefly and then introduced Mrs. Kennedy, who proceeded to address the group in Spanish. They loved it. The crowd gave her a standing ovation and shouted “Viva Jackie!” and “Viva Kennedy!” as the president stood by, looking admiringly at his wife, and obviously elated by the response of the crowd.

We departed the Rice Hotel and drove to Sam Houston Coliseum to pay tribute to Congressman Albert Thomas. When the speech was finished we departed for Houston International Airport and once again boarded Air Force One. It was 10:15
P.M.
when we departed Houston for Carswell Air Force Base, near Fort Worth.

Vice President and Mrs. Johnson were once again there to greet the Kennedys as they arrived at Carswell after the fifty-minute flight. It was now 11:05
P.M.
and thousands of people were there to view the arrival, including a lot of young children. Considering the late hour, this was somewhat of a surprise to me. The crowd was boisterous, quite enthusiastic, and very pro-Kennedy. Once again President and Mrs. Kennedy willingly approached the crowd and expressed their thanks for the outpouring of affection. They entered the vehicles—again the standard Lincoln convertibles—but this time, because of the darkness, the top was up, making it feel that much more crowded.

There were some people standing alongside the road on the way into town, but when we pulled up to the Hotel Texas at 11:50
P.M.
, it was mobbed. There had to be four thousand people standing in the street and parking lot outside the hotel.

I couldn’t believe it.

It’s nearly midnight and here all these people are standing outside just to catch a glimpse of the president and the first lady? These people are crazy.

When President and Mrs. Kennedy got out of the car, the crowd went nuts.

Sure enough, the president dove into the crowd, Mrs. Kennedy followed, and I went right along beside her.

Finally, we escorted President and Mrs. Kennedy up to Suite 850. ASAIC Kellerman and I got them settled and made sure everything was all right before we turned their security over to the midnight shift.

It had been a long day for everybody.

I went down to the lobby to see if I could locate something to eat. The clock
read almost 1:00
A.M.
, which meant by my body clock it was almost 2:00
A.M.
East Coast time. I hadn’t eaten for over thirteen hours. I had a craving for a nice big juicy burger and some fries. At the moment, I couldn’t think of anything but food.

Paul Landis and a few of the other agents who had come in on the backup plane were in the lobby with some of the press corps. Everybody was famished. The Fort Worth Press Club was nearby and the newsies said the agents could join them.

Merriman Smith from the UPI was the senior member of the press corps, and I knew him quite well.

“Come on along, Clint,” he said. “We’ll get you fed.”

We all walked over to the Press Club only to find the food was all gone.

They had some peanuts, so I had a scotch and soda and some nuts, bought a couple packs of cigarettes, and left. We heard there was a place called the Cellar Club nearby that served food. We went there only to find the only thing they were serving was some kind of homemade fruit drink. It was horrible. I went back to my hotel room, right next to the presidential suite—disappointed and hungry.

I called the Fort Worth White House switchboard and requested a wake-up call for 6:00
A.M.
, then called the hotel room service with an order for a nice big breakfast for 6:45. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was sound asleep.

It had been a long day.

I awoke at 6:00
A.M.
to the sound of the phone ringing. Those White House switchboard operators never failed. There was noise outside the hotel so I got up and looked out the window to see what was going on. It was drizzling rain, and a crowd was already gathering to hear President Kennedy speak. He wasn’t scheduled to go out until about 8:30
A.M.
and the people were already gathering—in the rain.

It never ceased to amaze me, the star power President Kennedy had. It was really an unquantifiable thing—and Mrs. Kennedy had it, too. People just went crazy over them.

I shaved and showered, and promptly at 6:45
A.M.
breakfast arrived. The coffee was hot and black, and the eggs, bacon, and hash browns really hit the spot. This was one luxury I fully enjoyed.

I packed everything back in my suitcase so it was ready for the transportation guys to send over to the LBJ Ranch in Austin, where we were to spend the night, and got ready to go to the presidential suite.

I was standing in the hallway with Roy Kellerman and Emory Roberts when President Kennedy came out, flanked by Dave Powers and Ken O’Donnell.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” President Kennedy said. “Did you have a good night?”

“Good morning, Mr. President,” we responded.

“There’s quite a crowd out there,” Dave Powers said, gently urging the president. “Time to get moving.”

A few minutes later, I heard women shrieking, and a thunderous applause. President Kennedy had just walked outside the hotel.

I remained at the security post, just outside the entrance to the suite, giving Mrs. Kennedy as much privacy as possible. Mary Gallagher was already inside packing Mrs. Kennedy’s bags and helping her get ready.

At 9:10
A.M.
the security phone at the entrance to the presidential suite rang. It was agent Bill Duncan, the advance agent, calling from the breakfast being held downstairs.

“Clint, the president wants you to bring Mrs. Kennedy down to the breakfast—
now
!”

“Okay,” I said, “we’ll be right there.”

I checked Mrs. Kennedy’s schedule and where it listed the breakfast there was a red check mark and a red-penciled footnote in her handwriting:
JBK won’t attend.

Oh well,
I thought,
everything is subject to change.

I walked into the suite and said, “Mrs. Kennedy, the president wants you down at the breakfast. Are you ready?”

“Come on in, Mr. Hill,” she answered, not noting the urgency in my voice. I walked into her bedroom, where Mary was hurriedly packing Mrs. Kennedy’s suitcase.

Mrs. Kennedy was dressed in her pink suit, the one with the navy collar. But I could tell she wasn’t completely ready. She hadn’t planned on going to the breakfast.

“Good morning, I hope you slept well,” she said cheerfully.

“We’ve got another long day ahead,” I said, trying to subdue my urgent attitude.

“Yes, I never realized how tiring campaigning could be,” she said. “I guess I didn’t do too much of it the last time.”

“Mrs. Kennedy, did you know that the president is waiting for you at the breakfast?”

“I wasn’t planning on going to the breakfast,” she said.

“I know, Mrs. Kennedy, but the president wants you down at the breakfast right now.”

She looked in the mirror and said, “Okay, I just need to put on my hat.”

There was a matching pink pillbox hat laid out on the dresser next to some gloves. She put it on, looked in the mirror to adjust it, and then asked Mary to help her with the buttons on her wrist-length gloves.

Now she was ready. I opened the door and we walked out of the suite, toward the elevators.

Paul Landis had received the message and was waiting in the hall near the elevators.

“Good morning, Mr. Landis,” she said with a smile.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kennedy, another busy day ahead for you.”

“Yes, we will all be ready to relax tonight, won’t we?”

The three of us got into the elevator and began the descent to the mezzanine level.

I led the way, walking briskly, with Mrs. Kennedy following, and Paul behind her. As we entered the Grand Ballroom, the place erupted with applause. The room was packed with people sitting at long tables. They had utilized every square foot of space available and about two thousand people were in attendance.

I could hear people commenting as she walked by: “Oh, isn’t she lovely?” “Oh my goodness, she’s even prettier in person!”

Other books

Tears of the Renegade by Linda Howard
Patricia Potter by Lightning
Save Me by Waitrovich, H.M.
I Will Fear No Evil by Heinlein, Robert
Child Bride by Suzanne Forster
The Queen of Patpong by Timothy Hallinan
Duncan's Diary by Christopher C. Payne
The Miting by Dee Yoder