by Bryce Zabel
After watching the coverage of Kennedy and Khrushchev on a live satellite feed out of Moscow, General Curtis LeMay turned to his fellow military careerists and said, “that treaty will pass over his dead body,” while pointing at Kennedy. When asked to confirm this statement shortly before his death in 1990, LeMay said that it had been a slip of the tongue and he meant the conventional use of the phrase.
The Secret Life of the President
The visit to the Soviet Union had, in fact, worked its magic, holding off publication of any damaging information about John Kennedy’s personal life until after his return. Even then, with internal debates raging, it was no sure thing that such details would ever see the light of day.
No one at Top Story who knew about the files felt they were anything other than the most explosive document leak in the history of politics and journalism combined. Certainly, that is how Berkowitz characterized them to Altman when they were first received, and Altman, who often felt it was his job to tone down his partner’s natural exuberance, could not disagree. They were political dynamite.
By this point, the two men had determined that the files came to them from J. Edgar Hoover himself. Hoover had given them to his number two, Clyde Tolson. Then Tolson had given them to this connection of his, unidentified during the coverage cycle, known as “Strangelove,” to pass on to Berkowitz, who brought them to Top Story.
The Debate
Over at Top Story, then-editor Joseph Carlyle wrestled with their publication day and night for months. Even as he wondered if they could ever be published, Carlyle continued to insist that his reporters source them to perfection. Given all the calls being made by Altman and Berkowitz, the existence of these files was becoming an open secret. In the final week of May, one of the targets of Altman’s investigation, a socialite and former runway model, told Altman, “Look, what happened between me and the President, or didn’t happen, is none of the Washington Post’s business.” Then she hung up the phone.
Altman mentioned the call at that day’s conference held in Carlyle’s office. “Sounds like the Post has it, too,” he said. “We’re ahead of them, but we won’t be for long.”
The line was out there now for all to see. It was publish or perish. But no story of this magnitude could be printed if the primary source was not contacted for comment or rebuttal. Someone had to call the President of the United States and ask him if it was true that he had turned the White House into what looked like a revolving door of sex partners while his wife and children were away.
Berkowitz volunteered. Altman shot that down. “No one in the Kennedy White House is going to talk to some kid who’s out to make his bones on this story. I’ll do it.” Carlyle agreed.
Altman set a meeting with Pierre Salinger, feeling it was best to follow protocol. “Certain facts have come to our attention,” said Altman, “facts that require the President to comment directly. I need to know from you that you will take this directly to President Kennedy for a response.”
Salinger protested that he could make no such assurance without knowing what they were talking about. Altman stated that they were talking about women that the President had extramarital affairs with. Salinger waved him off. “No, no, no. That’s not news.”
“It’s news if these affairs happened in the White House,” said Altman. “It’s the people’s house, paid for by the taxpayers. And it’s news if some of these women have connections to mobsters, or foreign governments, or actually work in the White House, where the President might be considered to be exerting undue influence on them to engage in sexual acts with him.”
Salinger said he didn’t need to talk to the President. The White House position would be not to dignify these charges with an answer. Altman reminded him that he had a professional responsibility to his boss and to the ethics of journalism to take this to the President. Top Story would give him forty-eight hours to get back to them. If the President agreed, as he hoped he would, Altman and his partner, Steve Berkowitz, would like to schedule a sit-down with President Kennedy at his earliest convenience. They felt that at least two hours should be allocated and understood that the President could include anyone he wanted in such a meeting, including his lawyer or lawyers. “Fine,” barked Salinger, confirming that he would take this information to his boss.
The press secretary would later contend to anyone who asked that, to his credit, the President took it like a man. He didn’t rage or deny. Instead, he asked questions, trying to tie down exactly what was being said. Salinger told him everything he knew and was dismissed.
That night Kennedy visited with his friend Ben Bradlee, the newish editor of the Washington Post and someone who knew more than most about JFK’s activities. Bradlee’s wife Antoinette (Toni) was the sister of Mary Pinchot Meyer, who seemed to enjoy both a sexual and a personal relationship with the President. Bradlee promised Kennedy the Post would not be first to publish these charges but that if Top Story or other reputable news organizations did, then his newspaper and probably Newsweek would have to follow suit. He assured the President that they would stick to the facts. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Kennedy said, and even managed to flash his trademark smile to his close friend. In 1963, Bradlee, who with his wife had often dined with President and Mrs. Kennedy, had published what Kennedy considered unflattering material about the administration and had suffered a three-month ban from White House insider privileges. Both men knew this would go far beyond that skirmish and could lead to a lifetime estrangement.
The President wanted to know if there was anything that could be done to stop or delay Top Story from publishing the results of its investigation. Bradlee thought about it, then offered that they must know that the Post had the same material. If they thought the Post was determined to publish, then the race was on. But if they understood that the Post would not go first, they might think twice. With that analysis, however, Bradlee told Kennedy that he could say no more.
The next day, Pierre Salinger phoned Joseph Carlyle and told him the President of the United States would not be responding to Altman’s inquiries as that would only give the magazine further incentive to publish its findings. He made it clear to Carlyle the White House knew that this same material had been distributed to the Washington Post and that they had been assured that the town’s leading newspaper was not planning to publish anything. “They want us to go first,” said Carlyle. The conversation, according to both men, lasted less than two minutes.
Carlyle and his two reporters, Altman and Berkowitz, plus Top Story publisher Dante Falcone and lawyers Rich Cortright and Susan Monteith, gathered in Carlyle’s office to decide what to do next. It was impossible to underestimate the importance of the decision. If they published the story they had, it would likely destroy John Kennedy’s marriage and maybe his presidency. It would put the nation’s progress at risk, sow discord and set in motion events that were, at best, unpredictable.
There was a series of questions that had to be asked and answered. Were all the allegations true? If true, were they news? If so, would they be seen as such, or would they destroy the magazine along with the President? And even if that were the case, was it the magazine's duty to print the story anyway?
Several of the magazine's top editors, along with Altman and Berkowitz, began an exhaustive review of everything they knew, starting with the contents of the leaked FBI files. There seemed to be little doubt that the documents were real. Many of them contained transcriptions of phone wiretaps between Kennedy and the various women. Others were based on surveillance. Still others included testimony of friends, family and former lovers about conversations the women had had that implicated the President in affairs. The numbers were staggering. Berkowitz counted all the allegations and names mentioned in the files and came up with a number, thirty-seven. Many of these preceded JFK’s presidency, a few preceded his marriage, and many were based on rumor and gossip.
The aggregate, however, did highlight a pattern of behavior that could have
compromised the nation’s security and/or Kennedy’s ability to appropriately manage the duties of the presidency. These women were not being adequately identified by the Secret Service and were not searched for listening devices or weapons. Some had prior allegiances to foreign governments. Almost all of these relationships would have exposed President Kennedy to potential blackmail. Just covering up the existence of these affairs had already caused the President to expend untold personal and government resources.
A partial list of women documented to be among the President’s sexual conquests included:
Ellen Rometsch, the German-born prostitute who was being investigated by the FBI as a potential spy, just prior to her deportation in 1963. The files alleged that Rometsch worked for Walter Ulbricht, the Communist leader of East Germany. When Robert Kennedy was told about this information, he allegedly ordered her to be deported.
Pamela Turnure. After a three-year affair when JFK was a U.S. senator, at President Kennedy’s suggestion, the twenty-three-year-old Turnure was hired as Jacqueline Kennedy’s press secretary in the White House, even though she possessed very few secretarial skills and no newspaper experience. Turnure’s former landlady, Mrs. Leonard Kater, became incensed with Kennedy, calling the media, patriotic organizations and churches, even writing the attorney general. She paraded in front of the White House with a sign asking, “Do you want an adulterer in the White House?”
Mimi Beardsley. A debutante from a prominent New Jersey family, she first had sex with the President in the summer of 1962 when she was nineteen years old and a virgin, continuing the relationship during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and not ending it until shortly before Dallas, when she married a college boyfriend. She had been given a White House internship despite never having applied for it. On her first day on the job, she was invited to swim with the President, given a daiquiri after work, and taken on a tour that ended in Jackie Kennedy’s bedroom, where she and the President made love. Before the end of the eighteen-month affair, she was also asked by the President to perform oral sex on Dave Powers and Teddy Kennedy while in the White House pool. When she first had sex with Kennedy in the White House, the age of consent in Washington, D.C. was twenty-one years old.
Priscilla Wear and Jill Cowen. These two White House employees were even given Secret Service names, Fiddle and Faddle, because they regularly swam nude with the President in the White House pool in the afternoon. Wear (Fiddle) worked for Evelyn Lincoln, and Cowen (Faddle) for Pierre Salinger. One or both of them were asked to try amyl nitrates, known as “poppers,” which had been supplied by Peter Lawford and were supposed to enhance sexual experience.
Judith Campbell, a California socialite introduced to JFK by Frank Sinatra, and a sometime-girlfriend of Mafia kingpin Sam Giancana. She had made at least twenty visits to the White House since May 1961, and she had seen the President in Palm Springs and even once at the Plaza Hotel in New York. More than seventy phone calls had been made to the President by Campbell, according to the logs of Evelyn Lincoln. Campbell entered through an unofficial back door to the Oval Office that was supervised by Kenneth O’Donnell, and no logs were kept about her comings and goings. Kennedy had ended the affair in 1962, only after Hoover made it known to RFK that Campbell’s associations could cause “trouble.” The FBI file showed that they learned of Campbell in early 1961 by way of a wiretap on Johnny Roselli, a Mafia leader she had met through Sinatra.
Marilyn Monroe. Her affair with John Kennedy was alleged to have begun before his election in 1960, when she, too, was introduced by Sinatra, at the Cal-Neva Lodge. Their relationship was an open secret in Hollywood and continued during his presidency. After Kennedy ended the affair in 1962, the file states that Robert Kennedy continued with her and was at her house on the day she died.
Other celebrities, including Audrey Hepburn, Jayne Mansfield, Angie Dickinson, Kim Novak, Janet Leigh, Gene Tierney, Rhonda Fleming, Blaze Starr, Tempest Storm, Joan Crawford, Marlene Dietrich, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Sophia Loren, Lee Remick, Peggy Cummins, Hedy Lamarr, Olivia de Havilland and even David Niven’s wife, who claimed JFK had given her chlamydia.
Mary Pinchot Meyer. She was married to the CIA’s Cord Meyer and secretly visited the White House at least thirty times during JFK’s presidency from January 1962 until Dallas. She was Bobby Kennedy’s next-door neighbor and a frequent visitor to White House parties with her sister Antoinette and brother-in-law, Ben Bradlee. Her file included allegations that she and the President had used marijuana, cocaine and even LSD together, based on a diary it was said had been recovered. She had seen Kennedy twice more after Dallas, but had suddenly moved across the country where she lived briefly with Timothy Leary, telling the Harvard-professor-turned-drug-advocate that she feared for her life. Meyer was assumed to be living on a commune in Colorado.
Helen Chavchavadze, a divorcee with two young daughters. Kennedy, driving a convertible, followed her to her Georgetown home after a dinner party and began a sexual affair just prior to his 1960 nomination. After his election, he announced he would continue to see her, and they continued the relationship when Jackie Kennedy was away, always after a phone call from Evelyn Lincoln inviting her to the White House.
Durie Malcolm. Her file included details of an alleged marriage to John Kennedy before a justice of the peace on January 24, 1947. She was a well-known socialite in Chicago and Florida, whose family lived across from the Kennedys in Palm Beach. Joseph Kennedy had Cardinal Cushing of the Roman Catholic Church quietly grant an annulment, and the marriage record was removed and destroyed from the Palm Beach County courthouse.
Alicia Darr Clark. Alleged to be a former call girl, she had an affair with Kennedy beginning in the 1950s, perhaps resulting in a child. In any case, according to the file, she later tried to extort money from the Kennedy family, and received $500,000.
Inga Marie Arvadi. The former Danish beauty queen and married journalist had socialized with Hitler before carrying on an affair with Kennedy when he was a naval intelligence officer and she was twenty-four.
Maria Novotny, a prostitute thought to be connected to a Soviet vice ring.
Suzy Chang, another prostitute (Chinese), who frequently claimed Kennedy as a client. She was involved in the British Profumo scandal at the same time she had been seeing the American President.
With publisher Dante Falcone listening from a corner, editor Carlyle and his two lawyers grilled the two reporters about not only the details of the files but also the work that had been done to substantiate them. Altman and Berkowitz had developed multiple unnamed sources among the women and their friends, multiple confirmations from disaffected Secret Service agents and one Kennedy insider. None of them were on the record, however, and the reporters declined to name them to their bosses.
There was a heated debate about Marilyn Monroe. The source was a Hollywood director who’d been at a party where Monroe and Kennedy had disappeared into Peter Lawford’s guest house and returned hours later with Marilyn wearing JFK’s now-rumpled white shirt and no panties. While it did not involve either potential national security or an inappropriate workplace relationship with a subordinate, it also did not have a living subject who could sue the magazine. Monroe was fair game.
At the end of an exhaustive (and exhausting) seven-hour session, Carlyle offered his judgment. The story should be written up for final analysis and approval. Definitely ruled in were all the current White House employees (Pamela Turnure, Mimi Beardsley, Priscilla Wear and Jill Cowen), Ellen Rometsch, Judith Campbell, Mary Meyer and Marilyn Monroe. He wanted a first draft on his desk in three days. The quote from JFK that had surfaced from multiple sources — “I’m not through with a girl until I’ve had her three ways” — would not be included, period. They weren’t that type of magazine. The fact that the editors of the same magazine are introducing the quote in this book five decades later only shows the length that journalistic standards have traveled in the intervening years.
It was also decided that at least the first dra
ft of the article should include the rumors of drug use and abuse in passing, pointing out their unverified nature, but should focus most heavily on the President’s medical condition, its cover-up, and his routine use of substances that may have included amphetamines and other stimulants.
After the reporters were sent to their typewriters and the lawyers dismissed, Carlyle and Falcone remained to talk privately about the stakes. Carlyle, the editor, fretted that this explosive information had the potential to destroy the magazine. Falcone, a no-nonsense Italian-American, made explicit what Carlyle already suspected. “This magazine is six months away from bankruptcy,” he said. “The story has just as much chance of saving us.” He told Carlyle that an editorial decision was needed, not a financial one, and that he, as publisher, was taking himself out of the equation.
The decision was Carlyle’s to make.
The Final Hours
On Thursday, June 3, 1965, astronaut Edward White took a twenty-minute stroll, untethered, a hundred miles above the Earth, while James McDivitt stayed in the capsule of Gemini 4. Given the importance of this step in the U.S. planned moon mission, and the possibility that future missions might include cosmonauts, it ranked as the story of the week.
Newsweek, Time and Top Story all followed the same schedule, publishing every Monday. The cover for the coming week's issue seemed likely to be the space walk, unless bigger events interceded. The problem was that the Gemini crew would not be returned to Earth in time for glorious color photos to be made available from NASA.
As a publisher, Dante Falcone knew that Time would probably feature its usual piece of commissioned art on its cover, something showing White and McDivitt. Newsweek would likely go with a NASA simulation or a photo of a black-and-white TV screen. If the cover of Top Story featuring the President’s extramarital affairs became the competition, it would potentially explode on the newsstand beyond any publishing figures the magazine had ever seen. He said to Joseph Carlyle, “As I said, the decision is yours, but the time for you to make your decision is now.”
