Not only was John’s sister upset about the display of temper in the park, his uncle Ted was also perplexed; he felt it out of character for John to be so out of control in public. Maybe Ted didn’t know his nephew as well as he thought he did, though; John definitely could, when worked up, lose his temper in front of strangers. “He spoke to John about it to sort of parent him through it,” Ted’s good friend Senator John Tunney once said, “but he told me he didn’t get far because the kid was so shaken and embarrassed. This kind of thing reflected poorly not just on John, but on the entire Kennedy family. Also, Ted knew John wanted to be taken seriously as a businessman with “George. What had happened had been at odds with the image he was hoping to project in that regard.”
Maybe it wasn’t John who should be spoken to, Ethel decided. Perhaps it was Carolyn. She knew from the first time she met her that she wasn’t what she appeared to be on the outside—“all smoke and mirrors” was how Ethel had put it. She noticed that things hadn’t gotten better with the passing of time. Ethel knew that a large part of Carolyn’s reluctance to be with the family just had to do with insecurity, and she felt she could help her in that regard. She’d actually wanted to sit down and have a frank conversation with Carolyn for some time and had just been waiting for the right moment. After the Central Park incident, she felt the time was right. Therefore, she asked her to Hickory Hill for a chat.
Carolyn was reluctant. She couldn’t imagine what Ethel Kennedy would have to say to her privately, and she feared it had to do with the recent fracas in the park. If so, she wasn’t sure how she’d handle being chastised by the matriarch. John left it up to her to decide whether to go, but he suggested that if she passed on the invitation it might be insulting. Finally, she consented to meet with Ethel, feeling she really had no choice. She wanted John to go with her, but he said he couldn’t because he had magazine business in New York. She then asked her best friend, Jessica Weinstein, to accompany her, but she couldn’t make it. Carole Radziwill was also unavailable. Her third choice was a good friend who asked to remain anonymous in this telling of the story. “She just needed a friend with her,” said the source. “She was scared. I didn’t know what to expect either, but I said yes, I would go.”
Early the next morning, Carolyn and her friend found themselves on a private plane Ethel had sent to take them to Washington. They landed at Ronald Reagan Airport and were then picked up by a chauffeur in a white limousine, who drove them to McLean. Eventually, they pulled up to an enormous, white-brick Georgian manor, the sprawling main residence of the Hickory Hill estate. They were met at the door by an officious African American female in a black-and-white ensemble, not really a maid’s uniform but more like a businesswoman’s. “Welcome to Hickory Hill,” she said before asking them to follow her.
“When we walked into the house, we were faced with this huge display of American history, all sorts of documents and artifacts,” recalled the source. “In the entryway, there were dozens of framed presidential correspondence along with photographs of John, Bobby, and Ted. I noticed one letter of scribbled handwriting and asked what it was and was told that they were notes from JFK’s last cabinet meeting. There was also a copy of JFK’s inaugural address. There was even an original copy of the Emancipation Proclamation, which, we were told, was one of only forty in the world. I also saw letters from George Washington, Andrew Jackson, and John Hancock. It was amazing.”
The visitors were then taken through a maze of rooms and into a large, formal space that was described to them as “the drawing room.” It was lovely, with hardwood floors, expensive rugs, and enormous picture windows that faced a stunning view of trees, flowery bushes, and marble statues of angels and saints. Antiques were placed about the room in just the right places. On either side of one of the main picture windows were two tall flags from JFK’s Oval Office and RFK’s Department of Justice office. There was more historic memorabilia everywhere, including photos of various Kennedys giving speeches and accepting awards. In the corner was an antique desk with a bust of Bobby Kennedy on it, which was surrounded by more family photos, all in silver frames.
It was early, and the housemaids were in the middle of their morning chores, preparing the room for the day. There must have been six women in crisp uniforms scampering all about, fluffing pillows, turning on certain lights, turning off others. Someone was vacuuming. Another woman was fumbling while trying to spark a blaze in one of the fireplaces. Someone else was arranging a huge assortment of exotic flowers in a large crystal vase. Another woman was perched precariously high atop a ladder and dusting books on a shelf she was barely able to reach. “We heard someone say to be sure to keep the top of those books clean because Mrs. Kennedy might just get up there herself and run her fingers over them,” recalled the source. “At just that moment, our greeter clapped her hands twice and announced, ‘That will be all, ladies.’ They all then quickly started gathering their things. In maybe thirty seconds, they were gone.”
After the two visitors sank into a comfortable, pale yellow couch, they were told to wait. Five minutes later, a maid presented them with a tray of hot tea and butter cookies. After the passing of about a half hour of eerie silence, Carolyn and her friend were beginning to wonder what was going on. Then Joe Kennedy, looking handsome in a blue suit with a red tie, appeared and introduced himself. He shook their hands. “My mother is dealing with a little issue in the kitchen,” he said. “It’s not a big deal,” he added with a chuckle, “but if you see a tidal wave headed in this direction, get ready to start swimming.” With that, he left.
“Finally, Mrs. Kennedy walked into the room,” continued the source. “Carolyn jumped to her feet, which surprised me. It wasn’t so much that she stood up as much as she did it as if she were a soldier coming to attention. I was about three seconds late. I remember thinking Mrs. Kennedy was more petite than I expected, but well put-together in a light pink linen pantsuit with pearls. She apologized, saying there was a plumbing problem. ‘This place looks great from the outside,’ she said, ‘but if you scratch a little beneath the surface? Forget it. It’s falling apart.’
“She asked who I was and why I was there,” recalled Carolyn’s friend. “When Carolyn explained that she just wanted company on the trip, Mrs. Kennedy looked skeptical and said, ‘Yes. That and you were afraid to come here alone, weren’t you, dear?’ Carolyn’s face got beet red. Mrs. Kennedy laughed it off and said, ‘I get it. Don’t worry. People think I’m scary.’ Then, lowering her voice, she said, ‘They think it because it’s true.’ We laughed nervously and sat down.”
The three women talked for about an hour about a wide range of subjects, the gist of the conversation being the complications of dating and then marrying into the Kennedy family. Ethel acted surprised when Carolyn admitted to insecurity about John. “But you’re so beautiful,” she said, “and so smart. Why?” Carolyn said she felt not only in John’s shadow but in that of every person who ever came into his orbit. “He’s just such a big … presence,” she said. Ethel understood. “I went through that with Bobby at first,” she said candidly. “Then I finally got it that the only way to survive in this family is to look in the mirror in the morning every single day and say, ‘You know what? I am enough.’ Plain and simple. That’s it. ‘I am enough.’ Eventually it sinks in that, yes, you are enough, and that no one can ever take that away from you. Not even the Kennedys.”
“We were so surprised,” said Carolyn’s friend. “She was so forward-thinking, so empowering. I guess I expected someone more traditional, strict, and old-fashioned. Then, becoming more firm, she said, ‘Carolyn, I will tell you what I’ve told my daughters and my daughters-in-law. Be there for your husbands, but do not let them influence you into bad behavior. They will bait you. They always do. I’ve seen it for years. But you can’t take the bait. You must be stronger than that.’ Carolyn said something like, ‘But John’s temper is a lot to deal with sometimes.’ Mrs. Kennedy became annoyed. She said, ‘So? What else is new? You should see Joe’s temper. You should see Bobby’s. And you should see mine.’ At that moment, the maid happened to be pouring more tea. ‘Just ask her,’ Mrs. Kennedy said. The maid looked at me, opened her eyes real wide, and sort of cringed. ‘But not in public,’ Mrs. Kennedy added. ‘Never in public,’ she said in a chastising tone. ‘These men are hotheads. Don’t let them goad you into acting improperly in front of the whole world. Do you know what I’m talking about?’ Carolyn nodded.”
“Let me tell you something, Carolyn,” Ethel said as she rose when it was time for the conversation to end. “I think you’re more powerful than any of the other women John has dated. You know why? Because you’re smart,” she said, “and because you have heart. So don’t let John or those reporters or photographers or anyone else change who you are in here,” she said, and then she tapped on Carolyn’s chest. “Do you understand?”
Carolyn said she understood.
“Mrs. Kennedy walked us both outside,” said Carolyn’s friend. “We then hugged her goodbye and got into the car. As we were being driven down the long driveway and then out onto the street, I rolled down the window to wave goodbye, but she was gone. ‘She’s not really the goodbye-waving type,’ Carolyn said. As we headed to the airport, we didn’t say a word to each other. We were completely taken aback. I thought to myself, Well, okay, it makes sense. Look at all of the powerful women she’s raised. Her daughter is the lieutenant governor of Maryland! That didn’t just happen by accident. Of course this is how she thinks.
“Finally, Carolyn turned to me and said, ‘I am enough, aren’t I?’ I smiled at her and said, ‘Damn right you are.’ And we just sat in silence for a little while and let that sink in.”
OVER THE NEXT six months, things definitely seemed better for Carolyn. She still didn’t love going to the Cape with the Kennedy herd, but Ethel’s philosophy made a difference in her life. It was good advice. Maria Shriver would add, “We are all worthy—not because we’ve accomplished something or because we’re part of a famous family. You’re worthy if you don’t make the team. You’re worthy if you get Ds and Fs. You’re worthy if you don’t get into the best college. That belief is the greatest gift any parent can give his or her child.”
Carolyn also seemed to be adapting to her high-profile relationship with John outside of the Kennedy enclave. “She would be at the compound wearing nice bright clothes, her hair falling free, very casual, no makeup,” recalled Gustavo’s daughter, Ariel. “Then, when she was getting ready to leave, she would change into all black clothing. She would then tie her hair up in a knot, a severe look, put on her makeup, and sometimes add a big hat and maybe sunglasses. This was her putting on her uniform, as if she was getting ready to go into combat. She would study herself in the mirror just before she and John would leave. She would then steel herself and declare, ‘Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do this.’ That was her public persona. She had found a way to make it work for her. We felt, okay, it’s time. Just be with John and get it over with.”
Even though she was finding ways to cope, John knew how much Carolyn would hate a big wedding, one swarming with photographers and reporters. How wonderful would it be, he mused, if they could just have a small, intimate affair, unlike the big, splashy occasions that had been previously orchestrated for many of his cousins. He knew it would be so appreciated by Carolyn. Could he pull it off, given that he was probably the most famous Kennedy of them all? Of course, as is well known by now, he did make it happen, and in the process of surprising Carolyn, he also surprised much of the world.
John chose Cumberland Island off the coast of Georgia as the wedding location, “as far off the beaten path as you can get,” he told John Perry Barlow, who attended the ceremony. In the end, John would get his wish: not one photographer would be in sight to capture Carolyn’s shining and eager face during the private and romantic ceremony. It took place in small wood-framed First African Baptist Church on Cumberland on September 21, 1996. The only lens man present was Denis Reggie (no relation to Vicki Reggie), who had been photographing Kennedy weddings since 1980.
Carolyn looked stunning in a forty-thousand-dollar pearl-colored silk crepe gown with a tulle silk veil, along with beaded satin Manolo Blahniks. She also wore long silk gloves. Her hair was pulled into an elegant chignon, the bun pinned with a clip that had belonged to Jackie. John looked perfectly attired in a single-breasted dark blue wool suit with a pale blue silk tie, white piqué vest, and his father’s wristwatch. The photo of him kissing his wife’s hand as the two left the church, taken by Reggie, is a classic. Anyone who has ever laid eyes on it remembers it fondly.
Of course, John’s best man was Anthony, who was doing a lot better these days. For John, seeing him looking vital and handsome in a natty suit and tie on this special day was a real treat. “When you spot a John waiting out in the rain,” Anthony said to John as he straightened his tie. John finished, “Chances are he’s insane as only a John can be for a Jane.” As usual, no one around them knew what in the world they were talking about. Never would they have guessed that these were lyrics from Guys and Dolls—so typical of John and Anthony.