Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir

have some long-standing legal issues with the United States government, but his reputation was that of a womanizer and opportunist. There had always been concern about Mrs. Kennedy’s sister Lee’s friendship with Onassis, but to have Mrs. Kennedy herself spending time on his private yacht? This took on a whole new set of problems. There was grave concern that once Onassis got his foot in the door, he would take advantage of the situation to the detriment of everyone but himself. The general theme was that he could not be trusted.

The president had been made aware of the potential political fallout, but he insisted that Mrs. Kennedy would be permitted to go as planned. That was the end of that.

We remained at Squaw Island for the seventy-fifth birthday party for the president’s father on September 6, and then it was on to Hammersmith Farm in Newport, for most of the rest of September. On September 12, the president flew in from Washington to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary. Good friends Ben and Tony Bradlee came as weekend guests, and the next few days were spent swimming at Bailey’s Beach, cruising on the Honey Fitz, and playing golf at the Newport Country Club. Mrs. Kennedy seemed to be slowly coming out of the depressed state she had been in and began enjoying activities again. It was wonderful to see her renewed spirit and happy expression return.

Mrs. Kennedy and the children finally returned to the White House with the president on Monday, September 23. It was the beginning of the school year for Caroline in the school established by Mrs. Kennedy within the White House. To get the school year off to a rousing start, Mrs. Kennedy had arranged a surprise for all the children on Wednesday, September 25. Mrs. Kennedy, Caroline, and John met the students at the entrance to the White House and announced they were going on a field trip. To Dulles Airport. For a ride on the Goodyear blimp.

You’ve never seen a group of students more excited in your life.

I was up to my eyeballs trying to make arrangements for the trip to Greece, so I sent Paul Landis and the Kiddie Detail agents with Mrs. Kennedy and the twenty youngsters for the adventure of a lifetime.

Later, Mrs. Kennedy told me what a wonderful time they all had, especially John.

“You know how much John loves airplanes and flying, Mr. Hill. I think someday he is going to be a pilot.”

We were scheduled to take a commercial flight from New York City to Rome, and then on to Athens, the evening of October 1. It so happened that the Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie, Emperor of Ethiopa, was arriving in Washington the same day. In her first public appearance since the death of Patrick, Mrs. Kennedy joined the president for the welcoming ceremonies at Union Station, and rode in the short motorcade to the Blair House, where the emperor was staying. The seventy-one-year-old Selassie was small in physical stature, but he was held in high regard around the world, having been the respected leader of his country for more than four decades. He came bearing personal gifts—an exotic leopard-skin coat for Mrs. Kennedy, a carved ivory doll for Caroline, and a carved ivory soldier with sword for John—and Mrs. Kennedy found him charming. They spoke in French together, and I could tell she wished she could have spent more time with him, but because of our departure that evening, she wasn’t able to attend the state dinner that was planned in his honor.

EVER SINCE MRS. Kennedy’s trip to Greece had been announced, I kept waiting for the president to call me into his office to give me some sort of instructions concerning Mr. Onassis. But I never got the call. Nothing was ever said.

There were quick good-byes to the children and the president and then we were off—Provi, Paul Landis, Mrs. Kennedy, and me—on our way to National Airport, where the Caroline was waiting to take us to New York for the scheduled TWA flight.

The New York Secret Service Field Office had arranged for the Caroline to taxi and be nose-to-nose with the big 707 to facilitate our transfer from one plane to the other. No press, and no crowds. Just the way she liked it.

We boarded the aircraft and settled into the first-class section. All except Agent Landis, that is. We had reserved a seat in the section behind first class next to the bulkhead for one agent to occupy. Poor Paul was given that assignment. His job was to preclude anyone from the rear coming into the first-class section. We had reserved six seats for Mrs. Kennedy—four in the center to be made into a bed, with an additional two seats by the window for her to sit in. Two additional seats in first class were for Provi and myself. It would be a long, sleepless night for Paul and me as we crossed the Atlantic.

Mrs. Kennedy slept almost the entire way, and after graciously signing photographs for the crew—I always kept a stash of her photos in my briefcase for such occasions—we transferred to the plane that would take us to Athens.

The weather was hot and sunny when we arrived in Athens, under a beautiful clear blue sky. As we were about to deplane, Mrs. Kennedy turned to me with a smile on her face and a gleam in her eye.

“Mr. Hill, are you ready to have some fun? I sure am.”

It was so nice to see her smiling again. It was obvious she was looking forward to the next two weeks.

“Yes, Mrs. Kennedy,” I said, returning the smile. “I think all of us will have a good time.”

But, believe me, I thought, I am going to know everything that is going on.

Prince “Stash” Radziwill and Mrs. Kennedy’s sister, Lee, were there to greet us, along with U.S. ambassador Henry Labouisse. Agent Giannoules had done a great job of handling everything for our arrival, assisted once again by Nick Damigos from the State Department, who knew all the local officials and was keyed into anything that might affect Mrs. Kennedy’s visit.

We spent the first few days of the trip in Athens, where once again the beautiful seaside villa owned by Markos Nomikos had been made available for Mrs. Kennedy and her guests. There was a courtesy visit to King Paul and Queen Frederika at the Tatoi Palace one afternoon, and as we drove down the long driveway, Mrs. Kennedy got a big grin on her face.

“Mr. Hill, you look so worried,” she said.

“Yes, Mrs. Kennedy, I’m thinking about the last time we were here.”

She laughed and said, “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t sneak off for a high-speed ride with Prince Constantine again. And remember? You did catch us.”

“Oh, I remember only too well,” I said with a smile. “I’ll be paying very close attention to your every move this time.”

“I thought you always did that, Mr. Hill,” she said, laughing.

Her teasing and playfulness was back, it was good to see, and true to her word, she didn’t try to pull a fast one on me. At least not at the Tatoi Palace. The next day, we were to begin our cruise on the Christina.

IN THE NEARLY three years that I had been with Mrs. Kennedy, I had had the opportunity to sail aboard some fabulous yachts. Nomikos’s Northwind, Gianni Agnelli’s Agneta, and of course the yachts in the presidential fleet—the Honey Fitz, the Manitou, the Sequoia. But nothing could have prepared me for the Christina.

Anchored in the bay at Glyfada, the 325-foot Christina made the other yachts in the harbor look like bathtub toys. We were met at the dock by a few members of the crew, and two sleek mahogany- hulled Hacker speedboats—the tenders for the Christina. Our bags were loaded, and off we sped to the massive white yacht in the distance.

There were a great many staff to greet us and yes, Aristotle Onassis himself was standing on deck as we boarded. Gray-haired, with black bushy eyebrows, he was shorter than I had expected, and had a stocky frame. He had a very large nose, an oily, olive complexion, and dark circles surrounding rather small eyes.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said. “Welcome aboard the Christina.” He greeted Lee with a kiss on each cheek—as Europeans do—and then proceeded to do the same to Mrs. Kennedy. I cringed as I watched him place his hands on her arms and lean in to graze her cheek with his lips.

This is the man President Kennedy had told me—in no uncertain terms—to make sure Mrs. Kennedy did not meet in 1961. Now, here she is being greeted by him on his yacht as his guest. Did I misunderstand something?

All these thoughts ran through my mind as the other guests appeared on deck. There was Franklin D.