Killing Kennedy

made her impervious to political attacks. This is no longer the case.
    Less than two months after she suffered the brutal pain of losing a child, Republicans in Congress have decided that she is fair game. They publicly bash her for the Greece trip, accusing the First Lady of being nothing more than a pleasure-seeker. “Why doesn’t the lady see more of her own country instead of gallivanting all over Europe?” wonders Congressman Oliver Bolton of Ohio.
    The press is also writing lengthy stories about the frequent parties on the Onassis yacht. Some writers are painting the First Lady as self-indulgent. “Does this sort of behavior seem fitting for a woman in mourning?” asks the Boston Globe . One published photograph even shows a carefree Jackie being assisted onto the Christina by a strapping, young, bare-chested, and sun-bronzed male crew member. Another image, of Jackie sunning herself in a bikini, was splashed on front pages all around the world. For the first time, the First Family is under siege from the media.
    The UPI newspaper syndicate is even questioning the First Lady’s morals, suggesting that her sunbathing is too sensual. “Mrs. Kennedy allows herself to be photographed in positions and poses which she would never permit in the United States,” reads the story. The writer goes on to add archly that it would be common courtesy for the president and First Lady to reciprocate by inviting Aristotle Onassis to the White House next time he’s in the United States.
    Now, at the White House dinner table, the First Lady’s deep tan is the most obvious reminder of her husband’s political fragility. But she seems oblivious to the pain she’s causing. Jackie defends Onassis to her husband and the Bradlees, telling them that the Greek is an “alive and vital person”—which, of course, only makes the president angrier.
    John Kennedy does not know everything that did, or did not, happen on board the Christina . He does know about the massages, caviar dinners, and shots of vodka. He also understands that his wife is drawn to the Christina ’s opulence and to the vast wealth of Aristotle Onassis. What the president doesn’t know is whether his wife was unfaithful, though it’s most likely that she was not, especially accompanied as she was on board by her sister, who had designs on Onassis. But the president senses that something is troubling his wife, and he has already confided to Ben Bradlee about “Jackie’s guilt feelings.”
    Now he uses that guilt to his advantage.
    “Maybe now you’ll come to Texas with us next month,” the president says with a cautious smile. He is determined that Jackie make this journey. And not just to answer the charges that she has seen more of Europe than of America. The First Lady is far more popular in the South than he is, particularly among female voters. Jackie hasn’t made a campaign appearance since 1960, but her presence in Texas might deflect some of the animosity surrounding the president’s visit. “Jackie will show those Texas broads a thing or two about fashion,” JFK says.
    The fact is that Jackie actually wants to be at his side—no matter what. She is tired of being away from her husband.
    It was in this spirit that Jackie bared her soul to JFK in a handwritten letter on October 5, shortly after the Christina put out to sea.
    “If I hadn’t married you my life would have been tragic, because the definition of tragic is a waste,” she wrote in the privacy of her personal stateroom, named for the Greek island Chios. As is her habit, Jackie substitutes dashes for normal punctuation. The First Lady goes on to admit that she’s actually sorry for their daughter, Caroline, because it will be impossible for her to marry a man as wonderful as her father.
    The Kennedy marriage can be restrained at times; many things are left unsaid. But on other occasions the simmering passion is so palpable that the American people sense it just by watching JFK and Jackie stand side by side. The heat between the president and the First Lady is undeniable, and that sentiment flows through her written words. Jackie writes line after line on the Christina that day, until the simple love note stretches to seven pages long.
    “I loved you from the first day I saw you,” Jackie’s letter confesses. Their ten-year anniversary had been September 12. “Ten years later, I love you so much more.”
    Now, two weeks later, in the White House, this man whom she so adores