relaxing as possible. She might invite Paul “Red” Fay and his wife, Anita, for a weekend at Middleburg or an intimate dinner at the White House. Red and JFK had been friends since the president’s Navy days and they shared a similar sense of humor, along with a love of sailing. Chuck Spalding and his wife, Betty, were frequent guests. Chuck had been an usher at the Kennedys’ wedding and had worked on the president’s campaign.
And then there was Lem. Lemoyne “Lem” Billings and Jack Kennedy had known each other since their prep school days at Choate, and they were almost like brothers. Lem seemed to be a permanent fixture at the White House, and would often be with the president when he arrived by helicopter to Middleburg, Hyannis Port, or Palm Beach. He was a tall, lanky guy, rather effeminate, and he just always seemed to be around. Mrs. Kennedy tolerated him, much like a somewhat annoying sibling, but Lem’s antics and quick wit made the president laugh, and that was worth a lot.
On November 22, 1961, it was back to Hyannis Port for Thanksgiving with the president’s parents, Rose and Ambassador Kennedy, along with as many members of the extended family as could possibly make the annual event. I wondered what the family would do in the cooler weather since so many of the summer activities revolved around the water. They were such an active, competitive family. I soon found out that Thanksgiving on the Cape meant touch football games and ice-skating at the Kennedy Memorial Skating Rink in Hyannis.
The Lieutenant Joseph Patrick Kennedy Jr. Memorial Skating Rink was built in honor of Ambassador and Rose Kennedy’s oldest son, who had been killed in World War II. Most of the family would go on daily outings to the rink, skating and laughing, just enjoying being together. It was such a wonderful sight to observe, and I so wished I could join them.
Growing up in the frozen plains of North Dakota, ice-skating had been one of my favorite after-school activities. There was a vacant dirt lot in Washburn, about half a block in length, that was flooded at the first freeze in the fall and stayed frozen until Easter, and that was our skating rink. When I wanted to be alone I would head to Painted Woods Creek, and skate for miles and miles in peaceful solitude. My mother worried about me when I’d go to the creek, though, because you had to watch out for air pockets, where the ice was thin. There had been a few kids who had drowned. I never worried about my own safety, but if I was with my sister or some friends, I wanted to be the one in the front of the pack, looking out for the soft spots ahead.
It didn’t matter the outdoor temperature—20 degrees below zero was commonplace for me—skating gave me energy and brought a smile to my face. I saw that same enjoyment on the faces of Mrs. Kennedy, the president, Caroline, and the rest of their family as they glided across the frozen surface with sheer delight.
Weather permitting, it was touch football time. Somebody—usually it was Bobby who instigated a game— would start rounding up players and picking teams. Quite often they were short a player, and Bobby or younger brother Teddy would call me at the command post.
“Clint, come on down here. We need another guy for our team.”
I had played football in high school and college and I loved it. They didn’t have to ask me twice.
The president rarely played, because of his back problems, but Bobby and Teddy would be out there, along with their wives, Ethel and Joanie; sisters Eunice and Jean, and their husbands Sarge Shriver and Steve Smith; and any guests who might be there and willing to participate. It was great fun, and quite competitive. Ethel especially hated to lose, and boy was she tough. God, Ethel—the thought of her out there playing still makes me chuckle. She was a ball of energy.
The rough-and-tumble nature of the Kennedy football games wasn’t Mrs. Kennedy’s style, so she would usually be sitting on the porch with the ambassador, watching with amusement, as we huddled and scrambled out there on the lawn. They treated me just like one of them—almost like part of the family. I thoroughly enjoyed it— not just for the sport, but also because it gave me the opportunity to occasionally throw a good hard block across certain family members. Payback time for things they had done causing me extra concern and work. Like using one of the Secret Service cars on the spur of the moment without asking permission or advising any of the agents what they were going to do. We learned never to leave keys in any of the cars even within the secured area, because if we did, you could count on Eunice or Sarge Shriver or Teddy taking off with the vehicle. It always seemed to happen just before Mrs. Kennedy or the president was about to go somewhere. They were always trying to pull pranks. Believe me, it wasn’t funny at the time.
At this point, I had been on the First Lady’s Detail for just over a year, and it had been nothing like I’d first envisioned. What had started out as uncertainty for both Mrs. Kennedy and me, had turned into a comfortable and enjoyable working relationship based on mutual trust and respect.
It was nearly Christmastime, and once again, we were headed to Palm Beach for the holidays.
9
The president and Mrs. Kennedy had realized the previous year that the Secret Service somewhat hindered the activities of the rest of the family when the president stayed at his father’s house in Palm Beach, so they had made arrangements to rent the nearby home of family friends Colonel and Mrs. C. Michael Paul for the winter of 1961–62.
“It will be so much better for us,” Mrs. Kennedy told me. “It has a beautiful heated swimming pool, and eight bedrooms, so there’s plenty of room for our own guests. It’s not far from the ambassador’s house, so it will be very convenient.”
“It sounds ideal,” I responded. Then, teasing, I said, “You don’t think you’ll get bored with the peace and quiet?”
She laughed and said, “Mr. Hill, you know as well as I do that peace and quiet when the Kennedys are all together is something that is next to impossible. But at least I’ll have a place to which I can escape and spend time with Caroline and John.”
John had turned one year old on November 25, and had become quite active. A typical little boy, he loved to climb and jump, and as soon as he learned to walk, he rarely walked—he ran. Because John and Caroline began doing more activities separately, it was decided that an additional Secret Service agent was needed permanently on the Kiddie Detail to assist Bob Foster and Lynn Meredith. Paul Landis was the perfect man for the job.
At twenty-six years old, Paul Landis was the youngest agent on the White House Detail, and previously had been assigned to the Eisenhower grandchildren. Born and raised in Ohio, he came from a close family with a strong work ethic, and he took his protective duties extremely seriously. Even though he was unmarried and had no children of his own, he had a warm, playful personality that endeared him to the children. He was five foot, nine inches tall, slender, and physically fit—as all of us were required to be—had sandy brown hair, brown eyes, and a boyish look about him that made him appear younger than he actually was. The rest of us couldn’t help but tease him about his youth—and when he joined the Kiddie Detail, he was given the code name “Debut.”
As a matter of security, code names were used for all radio communication. To make them easier to remember, each group of people had names beginning with the same letter, and we tried to come up with names that described the individual in some way. Each administration had code names designated beginning with a letter used only for that administration, chosen at random, with no significance. The Eisenhowers had been “S,” while the code names for the Kennedys all began with the letter “L.” JFK was “Lancer,” Mrs. Kennedy was “Lace,” Caroline was “Lyric,” and John was “Lark.”
Not all the Secret Service agents had code names—only the chief, the supervisors on the president’s detail, and those of us with Mrs. Kennedy and the kids. The code names for the Secret Service all began with the letter
