After Camelot: A Personal History of the Kennedy Family--1968 to the Present

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  In June 2008, Ted Kennedy underwent delicate brain surgery to extract as much of the growing malignancy as possible, though it was always clear that there was no way to eradicate the cancer but just to, one hoped, extend Ted’s life a little longer. The family troops rallied in a big way that summer. Ted Jr.—who never forgot how his dad had helped him deal with his own cancer so many years earlier—moved into his uncle Jack and aunt Jackie’s house next door so that he could be available to his father. He brought along his wife, Kiki, and their children, Kiley and Ted III. Jean and Joan both rented houses nearby so they could be present as well. In fact, Joan’s son Ted Jr. was often seen tooling about town on his moped with Joan on the back—hanging on for dear life, a scarf over her head, looking fit and every bit “the Dish” of old. Eunice was not well at all, but still found a way to spend much of that summer in Hyannis with the family. Of course, Ethel was in her home, as always, welcoming many of the third and fourth generation of Kennedys as guests.

  Within a month, Ted was back at the Senate to give Democrats a much-needed vote to pass Medicare pricing legislation. Upon entering the chamber, Ted received a standing ovation. Recognizing that the legislation was on the verge of being approved, nine Republicans switched their votes to side with him.

  The Fourth of July 2008 was tough for everyone. Just as they had done for years, the Kennedys gathered at the Cape for their big annual family barbecue. This time it seemed that even more of the third generation showed up than usual and with their children, too—the fourth generation of Kennedys, many of them throwing Frisbees and footballs across the yard and out onto the sandy beach with typical Kennedy flair. Though Ted was quite weak, his hair thinned and his face drawn, he was also in great spirits as he joked with all of the youngsters present, including his four grandchildren. He and Joan also spent a great deal of time talking to one another, often isolating themselves from the others. At one point, they walked out to a long sandbar and stood in their bare feet for an hour, talking and laughing. How wonderful it must have been for their children to witness parents who had once been so at odds reconcile any animosity that had resulted from their tumultuous union. Still, it was difficult to escape the sense that the gathering was as much a farewell to Ted as it was a celebration of Independence Day. “I see the kids hanging on his every word,” Joan later said, “and it kills me because I know what they are thinking.”

  “When I’m not around, I want you all to remember this day,” Ted said at one point as he offered up a toast. “And I want you to remember how happy we are and what kind of a family the Kennedys are. And I want you to take solace that we are Kennedys, each and every one of us. And that we are family. And there is nothing more important than family.”

  At that, everyone cheered. Everyone, that is, except Ethel. Instead, she became visibly upset, and as the applause rang out all around her, she put down her glass and fled from the room.

  “Wise Men Never Try”

  I am here to pay tribute to two men who have changed my life and the life of this country—Barack Obama and Edward M. Kennedy,” said Caroline Kennedy on August 25, 2008, in front of an enthusiastic audience at the Pepsi Center in Denver. It was the first night of the Democratic convention.

  Though he was not well and seemed to be getting weaker by the day, his chemotherapy and radiation treatments taking their awful toll, somehow Ted was able to rally enough to make it to the convention. Just hours before he was scheduled to speak, however, most people in his contingent thought it unlikely that he would be able to take the stage. To make matters worse, as he was rehearsing his speech he felt a sharp pain in his side and lower back. Kidney stones. He’d never had them before, so the timing was incredibly poor. As it happened, the drugs the doctors wanted to give him to deal with the pain threatened to impair his performance onstage. He had worked so hard to get to the point where he’d be able to speak at the convention, the idea that he wouldn’t be able to do so was more than Vicki could take. Usually unflappable, she actually burst into tears in front of the doctors, telling them that if they gave her husband the drugs they prescribed, they were taking away Ted’s right to make a decision about speaking. He would be so out of it, there was no way he would even be awake! The doctors agreed, and calibrated how much painkiller to give the senator so that it would be out of his system in time for his moment onstage. But then an uninformed nurse made a mistake and gave Ted another dose of the drug. When Vicki found out about it, she let the nurse have it! But it was too late. The damage was done. The drug was coursing through Ted’s bloodstream, and all he and Vicki could do was cross their fingers and hope that the effects would wear off before Ted was scheduled to speak. Vicki was uncertain of the wisdom of even allowing him to go onstage, but she also knew that once he got out there he would somehow be reinvigorated and would likely acquit himself well. She didn’t want to deny him his moment. She didn’t want to deny the audience either.

  When Caroline Kennedy introduced her uncle Ted, he walked out onto the stage greeted by thousands of placard-waving people—the signs boasting the name “Kennedy” in bold white letters against a blue background. It was a dramatic appearance, as expected, perhaps one of Ted’s most memorable in front of an American audience, given the attention his illness had generated in recent months. Somehow… he had made it.

  “It is so wonderful to be here,” he said, with a big smile, “and nothing, nothing, is going to keep me away from this special gathering tonight.” In a blue suit, pale blue shirt, and blue print tie, he looked strong and vital as he again lent his support to Obama. “We are all Americans,” he intoned in his moving speech. “We reach the moon. We scale the heights. I know it. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. And we can do it again.” Many delegates wiped away tears as Ted spoke. “I pledge to you that I will be there next January on the floor of the United States Senate,” Kennedy said, drawing loud cheers and applause. “The hope rises again, and the dream lives on,” he said in conclusion of his seven minutes at the microphone, as delegates waved hundreds of Kennedy signs.

  “There he was,” said one witness, “the shock of white hair, older, stately, dignified, the Lion of the Senate, still representing Camelot, representing our American history. Unbelievable. To be there, well, it was a moment I’ll never forget.”

  Of course, Barack Hussein Obama II would be elected the forty-fourth president of the United States, the first African American to hold the office. He would be inaugurated on January 20, 2009. Ted was present, just as he had promised. However, at the inaugural luncheon later that day after Obama’s swearing-in ceremony, he suffered a seizure and had to be taken to the hospital. The seizure was witnessed by fellow congressmen, many of whom seemed visibly shaken. Representative Pete Sessions (R-TX) said Kennedy’s hand began shaking and he appeared to have “a seizure” or “a stroke” and was almost immediately helped by emergency personnel. Ted’s longtime friend Senator Chris Dodd (D-CT) quoted Ted as saying, “I’ll be okay, I’ll see you later,” as he was put into an ambulance. “He gave me that Irish smile, so I think he’s going to be all right,” said Orrin G. Hatch (R-UT). In fact, Ted was awake and answering questions when he arrived at the hospital and was able to receive a phone call from President Obama. Vicki and Patrick Kennedy were at his side.

  In November 2008, the day after Thanksgiving, Ted and Vicki had hosted a party at their home in the Kennedy compound, the Big House—the same house in which the Kennedys had rejoiced when Jack was elected and grieved when he was assassinated, the same house in which Joseph had died, in which they mourned Bobby, the house in which everyone convened when Ted faced the nightmare of Chappaquiddick—indeed, a house filled with so many poignant memories, both good and bad. This was another opportunity for friends and family to come together, this time to give thanks for the year that had just passed and the one now on the horizon. “We have so much to be grateful for,” Ted said in addressing the guests, about a hundred in all, including people who went all the way back to Ted’s day
s in grammar school. “Let’s remember what’s important. Friends, family, loved ones, and our faith. Thank you for coming, and God bless you all.”

  Joan was present, as were Ted’s three children and his grandchildren, not to mention a wide array of nieces and nephews. Though chemotherapy had definitely taken a toll on Ted and he seemed somewhat weaker, there was still that great smile and twinkle in his blue eyes. At one point, he went to get up, faltered, and sank back into his chair. Ethel looked alarmed. She went over to him and helped him stand. Then she helped him walk to the bathroom and waited outside until he was finished. Afterward, she helped him back to his chair. “Guess she’s my nursemaid now,” Ted said, slightly embarrassed. Ethel patted him on the shoulder and smiled down at him. “I love you, Ethie,” he said to her as everyone around them became quite choked up. Ethel seemed unable to speak; instead, she just continued to pat him on the shoulder, her head nodding up and down.

  “Let’s have a musical number,” Jean shouted out at one point when everyone was seated in the parlor. It certainly never took much to convince Ted to break out in song. He sat down in a straight-backed chair next to the piano. When someone began to play, he began to sing one of his favorites. He may have remembered singing it forty years earlier on the Christina in Greece when Jackie was being romanced by Aristotle Onassis. Or maybe not. But he had certainly sung it many times since then, and on many occasions. “Some enchanted evening,” he began, “you may see a stranger…” Soon Vicki began to sing along with her husband, and then, one by one, everyone in the living room joined in.

  PART TWENTY-FOUR

  Looking Ahead

  Kathleen Kennedy Townsend

  It’s certainly not been easy for the third generation of Kennedys to have to constantly compete in the public’s minds with the historic legacies of JFK, RFK, and EMK. “We had always evaluated ourselves, and others evaluated ourselves, on how Jack and Bobby and my father were and what was going on with the Kennedys in the 1960s,” Patrick Kennedy has recalled. “Here we were, growing up and growing up fast, but our mind-set was always turned backward.” It’s no wonder. After all, they are the last generation with direct memories of Joseph P. Kennedy, and the last with memories of JFK and Bobby, too. And as the women marry, change their last names, and have children of their own, they are, arguably, also the last generation that will accurately be described as “Kennedys.” The public has expected the family to continue the Camelot tradition, but it has not been that simple. Times are different. Just having the last name Kennedy holds no guarantees in the political arena. Still, the Kennedys all grew up with the mandate that they must be of service. It’s what Kennedys do, after all. Therefore, even though the names of most of the third generation might not be widely known, many of them have made significant contributions not only in public but also as advocates of many important causes. Of the bunch, though, it’s Ethel’s kids who have really distinguished themselves, so much so that even Pam Kelley, who was paralyzed so long ago in the Jeep accident while Joe Kennedy Jr. was driving, has to admit, “You can only surmise she did well by them. Despite their screwups, they’re all committed to public service and they’re all sincere about it.”

  Without a doubt, Ethel’s daughter Kathleen Hartington Kennedy is the most politically accomplished of the third generation of Kennedy women. In fact, she had always had a keen sense of social responsibility. When she was twelve, her father, Bobby, wrote her, “You seemed to understand that Jack died and was buried today. As the oldest of the Kennedy grandchildren, you have particular responsibility now, a special responsibility to John and Joe [Jr., killed in World War II]. Be kind and work for your country. Love, Daddy.” She was the oldest of Bobby’s and Ethel’s children, and Ethel put her in charge of the rest of the brood when Bobby was killed, mirroring Rose’s decision that the oldest of the second generation care for the youngest. As it happened, Kathleen was a very nurturing presence in the lives of her siblings and, some might argue, at a level that exceeded even her own mother’s during the most difficult of familial times in the 1970s. By David’s own admission, Kathleen had taken him under her wing, for instance, when much of the rest of the family didn’t know what to do about him.

  Kathleen attended Radcliffe College, as would her cousin Caroline. Fully dedicated to the antiwar movement in the 1970s, she found herself working for the George McGovern presidential campaign in 1972. It was then that she met her husband, David Townsend, who was finishing his doctorate at the time. They married in November 1973, the date—as previously mentioned in this book—falling at the same time that Ted Jr. was hospitalized, causing a conflict for Ted Sr., who was to give his niece away. The couple then moved to New Mexico, where she found work with a human rights organization. After having three children in six years, they moved back east to earn their law degrees at Yale. The couple is still happily married, perhaps heeding Grandma Rose’s advice to Kathleen: “Make sure you never, never argue at night. You just lose a good night’s sleep, and you can’t settle anything until morning anyway.”

  After working for her uncle Ted’s 1980 presidential and 1982 senatorial campaigns, Kathleen became intensely interested in politics. She said she was influenced by her father and her uncles to want nothing more than to be of service when she ran for the House of Representatives in Maryland’s 2nd Congressional District in 1986. She lost that election, however, becoming the first Kennedy to lose a general election, but certainly she did not lose any of her desire to serve. (It was interesting that she ran using her married name, Townsend, not wanting her maiden name to give her any kind of advantage.) Dedicated to the notion that nowhere do children learn to be of service more than when they are in school, she soon became the president of the Student Service Alliance of the Maryland Department of Education. She also worked as the assistant attorney general of Maryland and in the U.S. Department of Justice as a deputy assistant attorney general for two years during the Clinton administration. In 1994, Parris Glendening chose her as his running mate when he ran for governor of Maryland, winning that election (and using the Kennedy name this time) and also the next one four years later.

  When this author first met her in October 1996 at a seminar on the history of the Kennedy women at the John F. Kennedy Library in Boston, I was struck by the force of her personality, the intensity of her presence. People seemed to naturally gravitate to her as she stood in a corner of a large theater room and held court. “In talking to you,” I told her, “I can’t help but think of your father, your entire family. Do you realize how much baggage comes with just being… you?” She laughed. “Good and bad baggage, I suppose,” she said, “but mostly good, I hope. The family’s legacy carries with it a big responsibility and my brothers and sisters have always recognized it,” she continued. “But you can’t let it overwhelm you. You could easily be paralyzed by it, it’s just that daunting. So I try to stay focused on the here and now and just do my job. But, yes,” she concluded, “my father, my uncles, my relatives are never far from my mind just as I know they’re not far from the minds of most people who look into my eyes for the first time.”

  In 2002, Kathleen ran for governor of Maryland, but lost that election. Since leaving office she has continued working for nonprofit groups benefiting Democratic causes and candidates and serves on the boards of many organizations, including the John F. Kennedy Library. She has also written a book, Failing America’s Faithful, about the value of organized religion as a motivating force to encourage people to be of service and how in her view churches have lost their way in that regard in recent years.

  Many people—her constituents as well as Kennedy followers and even her own family members—strongly maintained that Kathleen Kennedy Townsend could, indeed should, have gone even further in politics than she did. However, time, place, and circumstance seemed not to be on her side. Plus, she seems not to have had the desire to continue after 2002, though she hasn’t ruled it out as a possibility one day.

  The Third Generation
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  Kathleen Kennedy Townsend wasn’t the only one of Ethel and Bobby’s children with the potential to achieve high political office. Joseph Kennedy, Ethel’s second child, served as a member of the U.S. House of Representatives from the 8th Congressional District of Massachusetts from 1987 to 1999. As earlier stated in this book, he also founded and still leads the Citizens Energy Corporation. With the death of his uncle Ted, Joe’s name was mentioned as a possible candidate for his Senate seat. In an Associated Press article, Democratic strategist Dan Payne said, “He wouldn’t be human and he wouldn’t be a Kennedy if he didn’t give serious consideration to running for what is known as the ‘Kennedy seat’ in Massachusetts.” (The six-year term of the seat ends in January 2013.) However, Joe wasn’t interested. (The seat eventually went by appointment to Paul G. Kirk, and later by election to Republican Scott Brown.) There’s little doubt that if not for the massive onslaught of negative publicity he received in 1996 and 1997 with the attempted annulment of his marriage to Sheila Rauch as well as the allegations regarding his brother Michael and the babysitter, Joe Kennedy would have enjoyed greater success in politics.

  Two other children of Ethel’s also could have been serious political contenders: Christopher and Maxwell.

  Christopher Kennedy, Ethel and Bobby’s eighth child, has worked for Merchandise Mart Properties in Chicago since 1988, his grandfather’s flagship company and the greatest source of income for the entire family. Some consider him the only true businessman of the Kennedy family, with the kind of acumen not seen since the days of Joseph P. Kennedy and his son-in-law Stephen Smith. Involved in a number of family campaigns—including his uncle Ted’s 1980 presidential campaign—Christopher actually considered running for the Senate in 2009, but decided against it. In August of that year, he was appointed to the University of Illinois board of trustees by Governor Pat Quinn the day after his uncle Ted’s death. Like his sister Kathleen, Christopher has had a long happy marriage. He and his wife, Sheila, married in 1987 and have four children. In January 1998, Merchandise Mart and several other commercial properties owned by the Kennedys were sold to Vornado Realty, a real estate investment trust, for $625 million. It was a deal Christopher helped to broker, and one that guaranteed much of the third generation of Kennedys (Smiths and Shrivers included) millions of dollars in yearly annuities—as per the provisions in their grandfather’s will should the company be sold—instead of hundreds of thousands, and for the rest of their lives. The sale of Merchandise Mart was the end of an era in the sense that the venture was the family’s last operating business, now leaving the Kennedys’ holding company with securities only. Christopher continued working for Merchandise Mart Properties after its sale and is presently the company’s president. Today, more than three million people annually come through the Mart—which spans two city blocks and rises twenty-five stories—to attend the many trade, consumer, and community events hosted there, as well as to visit its many showrooms and retail shops.