Killing Kennedy

out.
    Jackie’s whole life was John Kennedy, and even now she sometimes forgets that he’s dead. She is filming this spot, which will be shown in movie theaters across the nation as a newsreel, because she wants to give thanks for the tremendous outpouring of warmth from the American people. She’s received more than eight hundred thousand letters of condolence. “The knowledge of the affection in which my husband was held by all of you has sustained me,” Jackie says firmly to the camera, “and the warmth of these tributes is something we shall never forget.”
    Jackie’s words are scripted, and she reads from cue cards. But they are her own words, chosen specifically to evoke heartfelt emotion. The same American people who elevated a president and his wife to movie star celebrity status have not forgotten Jackie in her time of need. And while she is no longer the First Lady, Jackie Kennedy carries herself with the full weight of that title as never before.
    But looks are deceiving: privately she aches, compulsively chain-smoking Newport cigarettes and biting her fingernails to the quick. Her eyes are constantly red-rimmed from crying.
    Jackie pauses several times during the filming to catch her breath or flutter her eyes to keep the tears at bay. “All of you who have written to me know how much we all loved him, and that he returned that love in full measure,” she tells the world.
    And then Jackie Kennedy takes on the same visionary tone of her husband. She speaks of building a John F. Kennedy Presidential Library in Boston, so that people from around the world will know of her husband’s legacy.
    It is a brave and poignant performance. In less than two minutes, Jackie Kennedy says a heartbreaking thank-you to the American people. Her grief is obvious, as is her elegance. She symbolizes the grandeur of Camelot, for which Americans are already growing nostalgic.
    One of the last times Jackie Kennedy saw her husband’s face was that afternoon at Parkland Hospital, just before the quiet reverence of Trauma One was turned into an unsightly fracas between Secret Service agents and Dallas police. It was in that quiet moment before she slipped her wedding ring onto Jack’s finger. She remembers that moment as if it were yesterday, but prefers to dwell only on the wonderful times. All the indiscretions and controversies of the past are forgotten.
    Calm and in command is the way Jackie will always remember Jack. And that’s the way she wants history to remember him. “For Jack, history was full of heroes,” she told Theodore White of Life magazine a week after the assassination. “He was such a simple man, but he was so complex, too. Jack had this hero side to history, the idealistic view, but then he had that other side, the pragmatic side. His friends were his old friends, he loved his Irish Mafia.”

    The end of Camelot. Bobby, Jackie, President Kennedy’s sister Patricia, and his children, Caroline and John Jr., in mourning. (Abbie Rowe, National Park Service, John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, Boston)
    It was during that interview, which ran in Life ’s December 6 edition, that she first told the world the tale of JFK listening to the Camelot sound track before falling asleep, and how he loved the final line: “Don’t let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment, that was known as Camelot.”
    When White dictated the story to his editors in New York, Jackie hovered nearby, listening in. She insisted that the Camelot theme be predominant. This is how she wants her husband’s presidency to be remembered.
    So as Jackie Kennedy finishes filming the newsreel, and rises from the club chair in Bobby Kennedy’s office—he will keep the attorney general title for nine more months—she understands that this is all part of her ongoing obligation to frame her husband’s legacy. But she also knows it is time to move on to a more normal life—a life that will be far less magical than the one she wants the world to remember. As she sadly admitted to Life ’s Theodore White, “There’ll never be another Camelot.”
    And to this day, that statement remains true.

 
    Afterword
    Jackie Kennedy ’s enormous grief, and the grace with which she handled herself after the assassination, only enhanced the public admiration she earned during her husband’s presidency. In 1968 she married Aristotle Onassis , the Greek shipping tycoon on whose yacht she recovered from