Five Presidents: My Extraordinary Journey With Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, and Ford

by Hill, Clint

  So it was in late September 1961 when I was trying to fly from the Newport area to Washington to be at Gwen’s side as she went into labor with our second child. Fog had blanketed the entire area, and hard as I tried, I could not get there before our son Corey Jonathan was born.

  It might have appeared that President Kennedy was on vacation whenever he was in Hyannis Port, Newport, or Palm Beach, but in reality the responsibility of the job never leaves the occupant of the Office of the President. That summer of 1961, there were myriad serious international and domestic issues. First, the Soviets, together with the East Germans, had begun to tie a noose around West Berlin—tightening the borders and building a wall that divided Berlin. In response, the United States promptly called up some 150,000 reservists to active duty and sent 40,000 regular Army troops to Europe. Cuba remained a major concern, and the situation in Southeast Asia, including Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam, was heating up. Domestically, attempted hijackings of commercial airliners necessitated the placing of armed federal personnel on board some flights as air marshals, while segregation problems continued throughout the South. There is no such thing as a presidential vacation.

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  Traveling with the Kennedys: South America and Mexico

  In March 1961, a month before the Bay of Pigs fiasco, President Kennedy had initiated an ambitious program called the Alliance for Progress that would provide $20 billion in aid to promote economic development, social progress, and political freedom in Latin America. On December 15, 1961, he and Mrs. Kennedy set off on a whirlwind goodwill trip to South America.

  The first stop was San Juan, Puerto Rico. A month earlier, President and Mrs. Kennedy had hosted Puerto Rican governor Luis Muñoz Marin at the White House with a historic performance by legendary cellist Pablo Casals, and the governor was happy to have the opportunity to reciprocate. Nearly a quarter of a million people lined the motorcade route chanting “Viva President Kennedy! Viva President Kennedy!”

  This was just a one-night visit, and early the next morning we were off to Caracas, Venezuela. Everybody was a bit on edge as we headed to Caracas. In May 1958, then Vice President Richard Nixon and his wife, Pat, had taken a tour of Latin America, and when they arrived in Caracas, they were met by a high level of anti-American sentiment. Pro-Communist supporters spat at Nixon, and at one point during the motorcade through the city an angry mob surrounded the vice president’s car and began throwing stones and bashing it with clubs. Secret Service agents used their bodies to shield the vice president, and eventually, with the help of Venezuelan security, Nixon’s driver managed to speed away. The vice president and his wife were unharmed, but understandably terrified. Now, just three and a half years later, we had received intelligence that leftist contingents—most likely affiliated with Castro—were threatening Kennedy’s visit with violent protests.

  Our advance team and security officials in Venezuela assured us that they had assembled the most massive security forces ever in that country for such an occasion, but still, when you’re going into that type of environment, it puts everyone on edge. One thing in our favor were erroneous newspaper reports that the U.S. Secret Service was bringing two “bulletproof limousines.” In fact, we did not have any bulletproof cars at that time, but our philosophy was: let them believe what they want to believe. What we did have was “SS-100-X,” a midnight blue Lincoln convertible that had been specially designed for presidential motorcades, but it was not armored. We did not correct the reporters.

  When we arrived at Maiquetía International Airport in Caracas on December 17, 1961, there was a huge, very enthusiastic crowd, and no anti-American demonstrators in sight. Venezuelan president Rómulo Betancourt had ordered thirty thousand soldiers and five thousand police to stand six feet apart along the twenty-seven-mile motorcade route, which was undoubtedly a deterrent to would-be troublemakers, and which we in the Secret Service greatly appreciated. Hundreds of thousands of people lined the parade route cheering “Bienvenidos, Presidente Kennedy!” And just as often, “Jackie! Jackie!”

  This tremendous outpouring for Mrs. Kennedy did not go unnoticed by the president. Mrs. Kennedy spoke fluent Spanish, and the president urged her to speak in the Venezuelan native tongue at every opportunity. In his main speech of the day, President Kennedy stood at a podium on an outdoor stage in front of thousands, pausing every minute or so to let the interpreter translate what he had said. When he finished, he said, “One of the Kennedys does not need an interpreter—my wife, who would like to say a few words.”

  The president beamed as Mrs. Kennedy spoke to the adoring crowd in fluent Spanish, without use of notes or need of an interpreter. When she ended her brief remarks with a cheery “Hasta luego!” the crowd broke into thunderous applause and cheers.

  After a mere twenty-four hours in Venezuela, we flew on to Bogotá, Colombia, where President and Mrs. Kennedy received another tumultuous reception—more than half a million people lining the streets from the airport into the city, waving white handkerchiefs, cheering, many with tears in their eyes. As we made our way into the downtown area, people were standing on balconies and rooftops—anywhere they could to get a glimpse of President and Mrs. Kennedy—showering confetti on the motorcade in a show of extreme admiration and welcome. These were the biggest crowds we’d seen since President Kennedy had taken office, and it reminded me of the incredible receptions President Eisenhower had received in South Korea and India. President John F. Kennedy was a hero to these people—their hope for a brighter future—and in this predominantly Catholic country they were especially proud that the American president and his wife were also practicing Catholics.

  Being that it was a Sunday when we arrived in Bogotá, arrangements had been made for President and Mrs. Kennedy to accompany Colombia’s president, Alberto Lleras Camargo, and his wife to Mass in the private chapel in San Carlos Palace; then, after a glittering dinner reception, we returned to El Dorado Airport, and at 1:05 a.m. we were airborne and headed for Palm Beach. The entire trip had been just sixty-seven hours and thirty-five minutes, but in that brief amount of time President Kennedy had left an indelible imprint on the hearts and minds of the people of Puerto Rico, Venezuela, and Colombia—and in effect on all of Latin America. It was remarkable to see the enormous influence this new president had—and how beloved both he and Mrs. Kennedy had become around the world over less than a year in office.

  The president’s father, Ambassador Joseph P. Kennedy, was waiting on the tarmac waving when we arrived in Palm Beach. Because there had been a lot of scrutiny surrounding Joe Kennedy’s influence over his son’s election to the presidency, the ambassador rarely came to the White House, so the time President Kennedy spent with him in Palm Beach and Hyannis Port was precious. President Kennedy respected his father’s opinion and advice and often used him as a sounding board.

  As it turned out, this short visit to Palm Beach would be the last time Ambassador Kennedy would be able to offer his advice and support to his son. Shortly after the president left, the ambassador had a stroke. President Kennedy was devastated. That Christmas was particularly difficult on the entire family, as they spent hours every day visiting the ambassador in the hospital and doing all they could to help him recover. Sadly, Ambassador Kennedy never fully recovered. The stroke rendered him speechless and confined him to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

  President Kennedy went on with the business of running the country, but having lost my own father, I could identify with the anguish and added sense of responsibility that now weighed on his shoulders without his father’s guidance.

  PRESIDENT KENNEDY HAD seen how his wife was revered in France and South America, and he realized she could be extraordinarily useful for diplomatic relations, so it was with his full support and encouragement that Mrs. Kennedy traveled fifteen thousand miles to fulfill one of her longtime dreams—to visit India and Pakistan. It was the first time an American first lady had visited either of these countries, a
nd on February 16, 1962, I was on a plane with fourteen other Secret Service agents headed to New Delhi to advance this complex and historic trip. As the supervising agent, I became the intermediary between President Kennedy and Ambassador Kenneth Galbraith as the details were ironed out—a sort of tug-of-war between Galbraith’s desire to have Mrs. Kennedy tour India for a month and the president’s insistence that it be kept to a more reasonable week or ten days. The president prevailed, and finally Mrs. Kennedy arrived—along with her sister, Lee Radziwill—on March 12, 1962. It was a fascinating adventure—which I chronicled in much detail in Mrs. Kennedy and Me—during which a series of events led to my supervising agent, Jim Jeffries, being sent back to Washington and transferred off the First Lady’s Detail. I was in Karachi, Pakistan, when I got three separate Top Secret messages—one from Secret Service Chief James Rowley, a second from Secretary of State Dean Rusk, and a third from the National Security Council on behalf of President Kennedy—all stating the same thing:

  PROCEED FIRST AVAILABLE FLIGHT TO LAHORE, PAKISTAN.

  UPON ARRIVAL OF MRS. KENNEDY IN LAHORE ON MARCH 21 FROM NEW DELHI, YOU ARE TO ASSUME COMMAND OF FIRST LADY’S PROTECTIVE DETAIL.

  The good news was that I had just received a promotion. The bad news was that while we previously had two agents assigned to the first lady, now there was just one—me.

  ONCE I BECAME the SAIC of Mrs. Kennedy’s detail, I set up an office—well, it wasn’t really an office, but a corner of the Map Room with a desk, a phone, a typewriter, and an ashtray that was usually filled by the end of the day. Located on the ground floor, directly across from the elevator that went to the residence, it was an ideal location from which, with the door open, I could see the comings and goings of everyone.

  Presidents, like most people, have behavioral patterns that continue when they take office, and each president’s routine is different. The Secret Service does not enter the private residence unless there is an emergency, but we were aware that President Kennedy normally arose between 7:30 and 8:00 a.m., would eat breakfast while being visited by Caroline and John, and then be off to the Oval Office. It was common knowledge that President Kennedy suffered from chronic back pain, and the form of exercise that helped ease the pain most was swimming. On weekdays when he was at the White House, it was an almost daily routine for him to take a twenty-to-thirty-minute swim in the heated White House pool just before lunchtime. The pool was situated next to the colonnade between the West Wing and the main White House structure, so it was an easy stop between the two. When I saw President Kennedy enter the elevator in his robe or wrapped in a beach towel, I knew it was lunchtime. He would eat lunch upstairs, and normally Mrs. Kennedy would join him. Everyone knew this was personal time for the two of them and they were not to be interrupted.

  The president would return to the Oval Office in the mid-afternoon to conduct whatever business needed to be done, and then, at the end of the business day, he would take another swim in the pool, don the robe or towel, and proceed to the family quarters for dinner. In order to accommodate the president’s habit of dropping his suits poolside and returning to the residence in a robe or towel, doors were cut into the adjoining exercise room and flower shop so he didn’t have to walk outside the building.

  Shortly before Ambassador Kennedy had his stroke, he commissioned an artist to paint a mural around the pool as a gift for the president. When the mural was finished in June 1962, it transformed the swimming pool area. What had been stark cement walls were now painted from floor to ceiling on three sides with a colorful scene of sailboats in brilliant turquoise Caribbean waters, while a mirrored fourth wall reflected the entire mural, making the room look twice as large. The president loved it.

  NOW THAT I was the Special Agent in Charge of Mrs. Kennedy’s protection, whenever she traveled with the president on Air Force One, I would also be on the presidential aircraft instead of being relegated to the backup plane or the press plane. On June 29, 1962, I was on Air Force One with the president and Mrs. Kennedy, headed for Mexico City. It was an important trip for the president as part of the Alliance for Progress program he had initiated, and since Mrs. Kennedy had so enjoyed the previous trips to South America, she was eager to join him.

  The motorcade from the airport in Mexico City to Los Pinos, the official residence of President Adolfo López Mateos, was just nine miles, but it was by far one of the most difficult motorcades any of us Secret Service agents had ever encountered. It was a clear day, and as was typical in a parade situation in which the whole idea was for the two presidents to be seen by the people along the motorcade route, President Kennedy and President López rode in an open-top car—a Mercedes provided by the Mexican government. Jerry Behn, the Special Agent in Charge, was in the front passenger seat along with a Mexican government driver, while the follow-up car, which had been flown in from the United States, held a mix of both our agents and Mexican security agents. Behind the security car, I sat in the front seat of another open-top convertible, with Mrs. Kennedy and Mrs. López in the backseat. As we started along the route from the airport, I could hardly believe the size of the crowd. The city streets were packed with people, thirty or forty deep on either side, while the tall buildings seemed to be bursting with people hanging out every window and crammed onto each balcony. The decibel level of the joyous reception was nearly deafening as the mass of people cheered, whistled, clapped, and shouted, “Bienvenido Presidente Kennedy!”

  Paper and petals began showering down on us as people threw flowers and confetti from the high-rise buildings. It started slowly and was kind of festive until, as we got into the downtown area, the paper was swirling around us like a blizzard. You couldn’t see a damn thing, and as people surged toward the vehicles, the pace of the motorcade slowed to a crawl. It was the largest, most boisterous and colorful reception President and Mrs. Kennedy had ever received—an estimated crowd of two million. Two million people packed into a nine-mile stretch of road. Clearly the people of Mexico loved President and Mrs. Kennedy. The atmosphere was overwhelmingly positive, but the blinding confetti combined with the slow pace of the motorcade was nerve-racking. A shot or a hand grenade could come from anywhere. It was like we were trapped in a snow globe.

  My senses were on overload as I sat on the edge of my seat, poised to jump out and grab Mrs. Kennedy should anything go awry. I looked back to check on her every few minutes, and she seemed oblivious to any danger. She was chatting in Spanish with Mrs. López and clearly enjoying the outpouring of admiration from the Mexican citizens. To make matters more complicated, one thing we hadn’t anticipated was the fact that Mexico City lies more than 7,300 feet above sea level. All of the agents were in top-notch physical condition, but those who jogged alongside the president’s vehicle found themselves out of breath, due to the lower oxygen level at that higher elevation. Fortunately, someone had placed an oxygen tank in the follow-up car so that the agents could drop back and take a few puffs of air before returning to their positions.

  It took us nearly an hour and a half to cover the nine-mile drive, and while both the president and Mrs. Kennedy were thoroughly enjoying the party-like atmosphere, for the agents it was a security nightmare.

  Our third and final day in Mexico City was a Sunday. President and Mrs. Kennedy were scheduled to attend Mass at the Basilica of Guadalupe, and since President López and his wife didn’t accompany them, we used our own vehicles, the midnight-blue presidential limousine, SS-100-X, and the Secret Service follow-up car. Once again, large crowds were expected along the route from the U.S. Embassy to the basilica, and after the confetti storm two days earlier, it was decided that even though it was a beautiful sunny day, it would be a good idea to use the Plexiglas bubbletop on SS-100-X.

  The crowds were nowhere near as dense as they had been for our arrival, but still there were people stacked ten deep at points along the streets, waving flags and shouting “Bienvenido Presidente Kennedy! Viva Jackie!” It was a much more comfortable situation bec
ause we were using our own vehicle, with the president’s normal driver, Special Agent Bill Greer, at the wheel, and Special Agent in Charge Jerry Behn in the right front passenger seat. I ended up jogging alongside the left rear of the presidential limousine, no more than a couple of yards behind where Mrs. Kennedy was seated, for much of the route. By the time we reached the church, not only was I finding it somewhat difficult to catch my breath due to the elevation, my suit coat was soaked with sweat, and the soles of my shoes had taken such a beating that I’d need a new pair as soon as we returned to Washington.

  On the four-hour flight back to Washington, President and Mrs. Kennedy were clearly elated by the tremendous reception they had received, and newspapers were touting their arrival as the largest turnout ever for a foreign leader. Politically, the trip couldn’t have been more successful. Once again, Mrs. Kennedy’s command of the Spanish language was a tremendous asset to her husband, as she conversed easily with their hosts and made a few public speeches, which endeared her—and the president—to the Mexican people.

  From the communications center aboard Air Force One, President Kennedy radioed back to the Mexican president, “We shall always remember the warmth and affection that you and your people have shown us. The conversations we have held shall provide firm basis for continued effective cooperation. I came to meet a president and statesman. I have left you as a friend. Viva Mexico.”

  MEANWHILE, MRS. KENNEDY had made plans to spend a few weeks on the Amalfi Coast in Italy with Caroline, and had decided that she didn’t need any additional staff except for her personal assistant, Providencia “Provi” Paredes, and me, so I was in charge of all the logistics. The president wouldn’t be accompanying his wife on this holiday, and before we left he made it clear that he was counting on me to protect Mrs. Kennedy’s image as well as her physical safety.