as Paul followed in another car. As we drove across Memorial Bridge, there straight ahead of us flickering on the hillside was the Eternal Flame. It was a moving, very emotional sight.
We drove up to the site and walked to the grave. Mrs. Kennedy had brought a small bouquet of flowers, and she placed them on the fresh earth. Mrs. Kennedy and Bobby knelt and prayed, then stood and looked back across the Potomac at the lights of the memorials. We all got back in the car, and returned to the White House.
No press, no public, complete privacy. Just the way Mrs. Kennedy wanted it.
PART FIVE
After the White House
26
The days following the funeral are somewhat of a blur. I was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. I had kept my emotions buried. I could not let Mrs. Kennedy, the other agents, or anyone else, for that matter, be aware of exactly how I felt. I had to be strong and hold up the tradition of the Service. Mrs. Kennedy had been traumatized and she was being so strong. I couldn’t break down. But the truth was, I was overcome with guilt, a feeling of failure, and a sense of responsibility for not being able to prevent the assassination.
There was no time to grieve, no counseling, no time off. Keeping busy was the only thing that was keeping me going. It was the best medicine I had.
Mrs. Kennedy was staying busy, too. She knew she had to move out of the White House—the Johnsons had told her to take her time, but she said she would leave after Thanksgiving, on December 6. There were so many decisions that had to be made, so much for her to think about. Even though she had the help of Mary Gallagher, and Provi, as well as her staff and the president’s staff, the final decisions were all hers to make. Where to live? What to do with the dogs, the horses? But first, she had to go see the president’s father in Hyannis Port.
On Thursday, November 28, Agent Bob Foster and I took Mrs. Kennedy, Caroline, and John to Arlington to visit the grave site. Mrs. Kennedy’s sister Lee, Provi, and Miss Shaw came along. To see the children at the grave of their father—hollow eyes, a three-year-old’s questions, no more rides on the helicopter. It was gut-wrenching. It was Thanksgiving Day.
Agents Landis, Meredith, and Wells had flown ahead to the Cape, and after our brief visit to Arlington, we boarded an Air Force aircraft at Andrews to Hyannis Port. It was an extremely emotional time. Mrs. Kennedy was so close to the ambassador and always before, her visits had been a shining light in his days. Now there was no light in anyone’s eyes. This was the third child Ambassador and Rose Kennedy had lost in violent death. Son Joe in World War II, daughter Kathleen, known as “Kick,” in an airplane crash, and now the president to an assassin’s bullet. What was there to be thankful for?
Paul and I and the children’s agents had assumed we would stay with Mrs. Kennedy and the children until she left the White House. After that, we didn’t know what was going to happen. None of us could bear the thought of leaving them.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 1, we headed back to Washington. Earlier in November, my wife, Gwen, had found a new apartment in Alexandria—one with more space, for just a few dollars more a month. Unbeknownst to me, George Dalton and Jim Bartlett, two Navy men that handled the boats at Hyannis Port—Jim had been the one who had valiantly tried to teach me to water-ski—had shown up on the doorstep and helped Gwen move. I arrived home to the new apartment, piled high with boxes, and beyond grateful for the kindness of two friends.
The next morning, back at the White House, I received a call from Chief Jim Rowley.
“Clint,” Mr. Rowley said, “there is going to be a ceremony tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock in the fourth- floor conference room in the Treasury Building. You are going to receive the Treasury Department’s highest award for bravery. Secretary Douglas Dillon wants you there at ten-thirty. Your wife and children are invited to attend as well.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Mrs. Kennedy plans to be there,” Rowley added. “Congratulations, Clint.”
I didn’t know what to say.
I didn’t know what to say.
“Thank you,” I finally said.
I hung up the phone and told Paul what the chief had said. Paul congratulated me, but he knew how I felt.
I called home to tell Gwen.
“It looks like you are finally going to meet Mrs. Kennedy,” I said.
THE NEXT DAY, I arranged for Gwen to park on West Executive Avenue—the driveway of the White House. When she and the boys arrived, I walked out to meet them, and together we walked next door to the Treasury Building.
There was a small room next to the fourth-floor conference room. Paul Landis had brought Mrs. Kennedy, her sister, Lee, and the president’s sisters Jean Smith and Pat Lawford. I was surprised to see them there—the president’s sisters.
I introduced them to my family and Mrs. Kennedy said, “You have such fine-looking young sons, Mr. Hill.”
I looked into her eyes, still so filled with pain.
“Thank you, Mrs. Kennedy. They are good boys.”
At eleven o’clock, we went into the conference room for the ceremony. Some of the press were there. They snapped pictures and took notes as Treasury secretary Douglas Dillon made a speech and presented me with the award. I was embarrassed by all this undeserved and unwanted attention, but I accepted the award and thanked Secretary Dillon, as Mrs. Kennedy stood and watched.
My family went home, and I went back to my office, glad it was over.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 6, was moving-out day. Two good friends of President and Mrs. Kennedy, Mr. and Mrs. Averell Harriman, had graciously offered their home in Georgetown as a temporary residence to Mrs. Kennedy and the children. Everything had been packed and sorted, with most of the belongings being sent into storage until Mrs. Kennedy decided where she and the children would live on a permanent basis.
President Johnson had also decided to award the Medal of Freedom, posthumously, to John F. Kennedy, at a ceremony in the State Dining Room, on this day. As Attorney General Robert Kennedy accepted the award on behalf of his brother, Mrs. Kennedy watched, sitting in a small adjacent room, behind a folding screen, her presence unannounced until the ceremony was over.
Everything had been packed and loaded into trucks. Now it was time to say good-bye. Mrs. Kennedy said good-bye to Chief Usher J. B. West and the household staff—staff that had grown to love John and Caroline. It had been such a joy to have children in the White House. Throughout the entire house, from the upstairs maids to the stewards in the Navy Mess, tears were flowing.
A few days earlier, Secret Service Chief Jim Rowley had called me into his office.
