Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir

Saturday meant going aboard the Marlin, Ambassador Kennedy’s personal yacht, for lunchtime cruises. The fifty-two-foot motor yacht was just large enough to accommodate the president, Mrs. Kennedy, a few guests, a small crew, and a couple of Secret Service agents. Lunch meant clam chowder or fish chowder, from a favorite family recipe made by the Kennedys’ cook. The aroma drove me crazy, and the whole time I was out on the boat, I’d be hoping one of the agents had gone to Mildred’s that day and there’d be some leftover chowder in the fridge at the cottage for my dinner.

We would put a security perimeter around the yacht, consisting of one or two Coast Guard boats and two Navy jetboats, all operated by military personnel under the direction of Secret Service agents on board. I always worked one of the speedy jetboats with Jim Bartlett at the helm ready to intercept someone when necessary or to take Mrs. Kennedy water-skiing if she so desired. The press would usually have a charter boat of their own, to follow and observe the presidential party. We kept them outside the security perimeter, much to their dismay.

JUST PRIOR TO that first trip to Hyannis Port, shortly after Mrs. Kennedy and I returned from Greece, Mrs. Kennedy was taking her usual morning walk on the oval driveway on the White House south grounds. As always, I was in close enough proximity in case anything were to happen, yet trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. She had been walking in silence, as she often did, her pace brisk, her head held high and her posture erect. When she was silent like this, I knew she had something on her mind that she was trying to sort out. Suddenly she stopped and turned to me with a look of excitement in her eyes, like she’d just come up with a brilliant idea.

“Mr. Hill?” she asked. “Do you know if there has ever been a state dinner held away from the White House?”

The question took me by surprise. I could practically see the wheels spinning inside her head.

“I don’t know for sure, Mrs. Kennedy. Why do you ask?”

“Say we were to have a state dinner somewhere like Mount Vernon—would that be an issue for the Secret Service?”

“I don’t see that it would be a problem from our perspective. It would require some advance planning, but we would do everything we could to secure the area and make the location as safe as having a function on the White House grounds.”

“Oh good,” she said, with excitement in her voice. “The dinner that President de Gaulle held for us at Versailles was so magical, I have been trying to think where we could do something just as special. I think George Washington’s home would be perfect.”

With that, she resumed her exercise pace, and spoke not another word about it.

I had no idea as to exactly what she had in mind, or when or for whom she had this dinner planned. However, just like when she had told me about Middleburg, I alerted Jerry Behn’s office about the conversation, and added, “Knowing Mrs. Kennedy as I do, unless the president vetoes the idea, there is going to be a state dinner at Mount Vernon sometime in the not too distant future.”

Thus it was not a surprise to the Secret Service when the announcement was made that an official state dinner was going to be held on July 11, 1961, for the visiting president Mohammad Ayub Khan of Pakistan—not at the White House, but at Mount Vernon, the historic home of President George Washington. Situated on the banks of the Potomac a few miles south of the nation’s capital, the setting was stunning. It was also a logistical nightmare.

Mrs. Kennedy’s interest in history and keen sense of pageantry was never so evident as it was, fresh on the heels of her visit to Paris and the spectacular dinner at Versailles, when she proposed and planned this elaborate state dinner—the first one ever held off White House grounds. Mrs. Kennedy saw the dinner as an opportunity to remind people of the revolutionary beginnings of the United States and how we as a people had fought to acquire freedom and independence. She wanted this occasion to be so different, so special, that it would be long remembered, and set a standard for future state dinners. From the moment she got the idea into her head, it was like she was directing a Broadway play, preparing for opening night.

The eighteenth-century estate of Mount Vernon was not equipped to accommodate such a large, elaborate event, as there was no electricity or indoor plumbing. But Mrs. Kennedy had a vision, and once she put her mind to something, there was no stopping her. From the guest list to the menu to the entertainment, she had specific ideas as to how everything should look and feel.

“We’re going to have a reenactment of a Revolutionary War battle with muskets and bugle players,” she informed me at one point.

Great, I thought. A bunch of costumed actors with guns will be within shooting distance of you and the president. I made a mental note to alert the Agent in Charge.

“And the president made a brilliant suggestion that the guests could arrive by boat. Wouldn’t that be magical?” she asked me.

“Magical,” I replied. “How many guests are you expecting?”

“Oh . . . probably between one hundred thirty to one hundred fifty.”

One hundred and fifty people—presumably including many high-ranking government officials—cruising slowly down the Potomac. This was going to be a major undertaking for the Secret Service, not to mention a menagerie of government services.

A cast of hundreds would be required to pull it off. Mrs. Kennedy’s vision for an early American historical state dinner required cooperation and coordination between various people and organizations that were not necessarily used to working together, including Tish Baldridge’s staff, the office of the Military Aide to the President, the National Park Service, the State Department, the White House usher’s office, the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association, the Secret Service, and Rene Verdon, the White House chef.

Every day Mrs. Kennedy would come up with a new idea, sending people scurrying around to get the necessary permits. If anyone raised the possibility that something might not be able to be accomplished, Mrs. Kennedy would reply softly, in her most convincing tone, “Of course it can be done.” She was in complete control of the countless details to make her production come together, and had steadfast confidence in her staff and their willingness to do whatever it took. I don’t think she ever knew how several behind-the-scenes incidents nearly turned the evening into a disaster.

The guests were split up between the Sequoia, the Honey Fitz, a PT boat, and a Navy yacht. They boarded at the Washington docks and sailed down the Potomac to the Mount Vernon dock. It was decided that they would make the return trip by car, which in and of itself was confusing and logistically difficult, as there needed to be far more cars than boats. Then there was the mosquito infestation problem. There had been a lot of rain, and the mosquitoes were rampant. So, on the day of the event, the area was sprayed with mosquito repellant once in the morning, once around midday, and again one hour prior to the guests’ arrival.

Chef Verdon had worked with Mrs. Kennedy to come up with a menu that could be prepared largely at the White House and then transported in military vehicles to the estate. As the food was being offloaded, he saw the repellant being sprayed and became concerned that the noxious spray would poison the food. He was terrified that the guests would become ill and he would be blamed. It was too late to prepare more food. Rene was beside himself. Fortunately, Tish Baldridge came up with a solution.

“Why don’t we have some Secret Service agents taste the food?” Tish suggested. “If they don’t become sick and die, then we know the food is fine for our guests.”

Rene acquiesced so two agents were given the task of gorging themselves on samples of every item of food that was to be served. They started with the George Washington Mint Julep, then the Avocado and Crabmeat Mimosa Salad, moved on to the Poulet Chasseur, to the Couronne de Riz Clamart, to the Framboises a la Creme Chantilly, and finally the Petits Fours Secs. There wasn’t much time, so they had to eat and drink quickly. As it turned out, the food was not tainted, but the agents felt sick simply from the mass quantity of food they had each consumed. This satisfied Rene that all was well and he could safety serve the president, first lady, and all the guests without danger of his reputation being damaged beyond repair.

It was a beautiful evening and by the time the guests arrived, everything was in place. Mrs. Kennedy looked regal in a white lace sleeveless Oleg Cassini dress with a wide green sash around her waist and elbow-length white gloves, as she and President Kennedy escorted President Ayub Khan and his daughter, Begum Nasir