Letters to Jackie (31 page)

IRVINGTON, N.J.

JANUARY 11, 1964

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I buy all these magazines and books with pictures of our dear President, and you, and your children, and today I bought a memorial issue of Look; I felt once more that empty sadness and I cried—again. But I know, from an experience when I was twelve—I am now forty-six—that one remembers forever, but not with the pain you must feel now.

It was St. Patrick’s night thirty-five years ago and my mother, who was thirty-five, and my father, born in Tipperary, Ireland, were dancing in the living room when my sister Eileen, age eight, and I, age twelve, went to bed. In the middle of that night, I awoke to look into the white stricken face of my grandmother, who entered our bedroom to get a sheet on which to place my dying mother, who had hemorrhaged her arterial blood, and then my sister and I knelt in our bed, shivering and praying, and a little later we went downstairs to the living room and watched her pass from this world. Next morning, I remember forever, my father’s bloody fingerprints on our white front door, put there when he dashed outside for help. That was so many years ago and the pain and terror has faded away but the love and tribute contained in this vivid memory is fresh and clear forever. My father, who has never remarried, is seventy-four years old, and I will, I must, remember him when he is gone as a wonderful, slightly enfeebled old man, but my mother, always gay, young, and courageous to me is frozen in the time of youth and splendor, and I
will remember our wonderful late President in this same, comforting way.

I carry this poem in my wallet; it is a poem on death by Emily Dickinson and I consider it the best of any advice ever offered on the way we all might think of Death, not with morbidity facing an endless or immeasurable time but as a renascent time for love.

“The Bustle in a House

The morning after Death

Is solemnest of Industries

Enacted upon Earth—

The Sweeping up the Heart

And putting Love away

We shall not want to use again

Until Eternity.”

Margaret Berkery

INDEPENDENCE, KANSAS
JANUARY 14, 1964

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I realize that this letter will never be read by you, personally, but I do know that the general idea of this letter and all the others will be conveyed to you by the means of your secrataries.

I consider myself so lucky to have met your husband. Of course
it came as such a blow when he was killed. I was very much hurt, as was everyone else. But when I find myself moping around I stop and remember a very cold and windy November night of 1959. Senator Kennedy came to Hays, Kansas, a small [town] in western Kansas, to speak at a dinner. The Jefferson West (St. Joseph Grade School) Band was asked to escort him to the place of the dinner. After we arrived at the school, I remember him standing there in a navy blue overcoat, and his eyes were sparkling, a grin was as wide as his face. It was such a warm smile. Oh, how lucky you were to see it so often. He smiled all the time that our little band stumbled through the Naval Hymn. The band sounded petty bad, but he told us that we had done a fine job. This made us all feel as if we were the best band in the United States. He shook each of our hands and chatted with each of us. We each received a candy bar from him for our “serenade.” I ran to the end of the line three times so I could shake his hand just once more, but Sister soon stopped that. This is the way that I like to remember him. I’m sure he wants it this way. I just thank God that I got the opportunity to [meet] Mr. Kennedy.

I want you to know that you and your children are remembered everyday in my Masses and rosaries.

Sincerely,
Susie Anderson
St. Andrew
CYO Member

MR. IRVING SILVERSTEIN

ROSLYN HEIGHTS, L.I., N.Y.

THANKSGIVING DAY, 1963

He stood in the open car,

Mrs. Kennedy,

the day was raw and cold. It was November. A chilling rain made the waiting for him difficult for Susan age 9 and Ellen age 6. The home-made
placards were softened and moisture had taken its toll of the lettering “We want Jack.” Yet we waited.

He stood in the open car, hatless, the momentary cheer, he turned toward us, I shouted, “DON’T CATCH COLD!,” he smiled, reassuringly, caught my eye for a flicker of a second and he was gone into the night.

I have my remembrance of him.

We as a family on this day offer you our prayers, our love and our wishes for your future happiness.

Irving, Sophia, Susan, Ellen

HAVERFORD, PA.
JAN 14, 1964

My Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I knew your husband while we were at CHOATE School together.

He and his brother, Joe, were in a room in, if I recall, the ‘East’ Cottage, a few doors from the single room I had. It was during the 1932 Presidential campaign and I often recall that Jack and Joe seemed to be the only ‘boys’ at Choate that knew F.D.R. would be elected! Both boys were very popular with everyone. I recall rough houses and good fun originating from them all the time.

One incident which I recall of Jack’s wit was when we had all ordered ice cream on many a night and when they arrived your husband said “they must all be yours Van”—for the tops of the cartons were either marked ‘Van’ for vanilla or ‘Choc’ for chocolate!

I wrote to him during the 1960 campaign recalling our Choate association of over 30 years ago. And I received a reply from him mentioning this. I also wrote to him after he became the President to include him in our prayers and to express our confidence in him in his great responsibilities. Ralph Dungan replied to that letter.

I literally worshipped the ground he walked on and from the time he
began to campaign for the Presidency I read every word he said or wrote and got home in time to watch his T.V. press conferences.

The White House, our Country and the World will never be the same again. He was truly a great and dedicated man.

My most sincere sympathy to you and your family. I know that the many happy memories along with your religious Faith will give you the continuing Strength to carry on in these trying times.

I have the honor to remain,
Respectfully and Sincerely,
Ed Van Dyke

HOLLYWOOD FLA

FEB 14 1964

Dear Mrs Kennedy

Please accept my sympathy for the great loss you have suffered.

Having been co-pilot on the Caroline all thru the hectic days of the primaries, I got to know President Kennedy as very few people ever had the privilege to know him, and grew to respect and admire him to a point of awe.

The nine months that I spent around him helping in my own little way were the greatest months of my life and highly treasured in my memories.

Our prayers, my family’s and mine will continue along with masses, as we know of no other way to show our respect at this time.

May God bless you and your children and keep you well.

Sincerely,
Roland Dumais

EDITOR’S NOTE:
Kennedy used a private plane,
The Caroline,
while campaigning during the election of 1960.

IRA SEILER, M.D.
SPRINGFIELD, VIRGINIA
NOV. 28, 1963

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

Words alone can not express the sorrow I felt on learning of your husbands untimely death. Even as I write this letter I can not fully except it as fact. In my mind he lives on and will continue to live on as a symbol of a man of peace.

Today, on Thanksgiving, I keenly sense his death for it was just three years ago today that I forced my breath into the lungs of his newly born son. I met your husband only once after this but the part I played in saving his son’s life gave me a feeling of deep closeness to your husband. I only wish I had been able to give my life in place of that of your husband. He had so much to offer.

Your grief is also my grief; your loss is also the world’s loss.

Sincerely,
Ira Seiler

ROSEVILLE, MICH

JAN
. 18/64

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I’ve waited and thought about writing you for such a long time at least it seems an interminable length of time since that horrifying day. I do not write to you to deepen your hurt but perhaps to lessen mine.

I met your husband when he was campaigning for the Presidency and I shall never never forget the dynamic personality of his. He spoke in the pouring rain and people, drenched, and cold begged him to keep talking. One elderly gentleman behind me said so softly, “There goes our next President, God bless you my son.” I saw the tears in his eyes as they are in mine as I write this.

Our son is 12 and I shall remember the hurt in his eyes as each
day it was his task to put the flag at half mast for his school. Each day he was reminded. He was quiet about it all but one night as I went upstairs to tuck him in there was our flag, folded as they folded it on that fateful day, placed over our Bible. Each day his thoughts were with him. He never asked us why? I suppose children have such a greater faith in God that they do not question Him as we sometimes do. He (my son) has collected every picture and momento he can find. Our family attended the Memorial Masses and we felt as if we lost a member of our own family.

I know that what I say has been said a million times over and cannot change what has happened. I also know God had a reason and time only will expose to us what that reason was.

We visited Washington in 1962 and when we saw the White House we knew why he had worked so hard to get there. I never missed a television press conference or an appearance of you or your husband. I stayed up all night election night as your family must have done. I was so happy when he achieved his goal. If only God had given him a little more time.

I thought writing this would help take away some of the ache in my heart but it is still there. I suppose time will lessen mine and the people of America’s sorrow but I shall never forget him.

I am a young mother, your age with 2 children also and can imagine how long each day must be for you as I find it impossible to imagine my life without my husband. You are a very courageous woman. You showed great restraint and dignity in your sorrow as you knew the whole world was watching. I shall keep you and your children, as I will keep your husband in my prayers always. I wish you to have a happy life in the future. I do not mean now but you deserve to have happiness once again.

This letter comes from the hearts of our entire family from my husband Tom, my son Glen, my little girl Nancy and myself Doris. May God bestow His blessings upon you and your lovely children.

Sincerely
Mrs. Thomas Poberezny

NYC, NY

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I wish to Extend to you and your family my deepest sympathies on your loss. Most Americans this past week have felt as if someone from their own family had gone. To us John F. Kennedy was an older brother, Strong, honest and good. To me particularly, John F. Kennedy was a friend. Although we never met, I felt as though I had known him all my life. I was given by fate the ability to impersonate his voice & to copy his gestures. I sincerely hope that a part of what I did found its way to him and gave him and his family a few pleasant moments.

I guess as an adult I know too many words & therefore have trouble picking out the right ones. The News papers reported that when John Jr. was told of his father’s death he said “Now I have noone to play with” Sometimes children say it right—We have lost our big brother. We must now make him proud of us.

Trusting that you and your family now receive nothing but health and happiness.

I remain
Respectfully Yours
Vaughn Meader

ROYAL OAK, MICHIGAN

FEBRUARY
25, 1964

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

About ten years ago, when my dear mother died, we received all kinds of lovely notes telling us things about my mother and about a side of her personality we didn’t know. I have always treasured those little notes of love.

How much you must have gathered in the monumental bags of mail the whole world sent to you out of love for John Fitzgerald Kennedy!

I was in the hospital at the time recovering from a coronary thrombosis. Every nurse as well as the patients wept for you and for us.

But what I decided then was to tell you of an experience we had while in Ireland in 1960.

We had left our hotel after breakfast and were trying to get our car started. It being a rented car, my husband was not familiar with its idiosyncrasies. It just whirred and whirred and would not start. This was in the city of Cork.

I noticed a man with a very wide broom, who was sweeping the sidewalk. He glanced around when the car made so much futile noise and seemed to want to come over to speak to us, but hesitated and then went on with his sweeping.

After much more of the same aggravation, the sweeper leaned his broom against the building and walked over to us.

“Are ye havin’ a bit of throuble?” he asked. Then he asked me if I had a bit of a rag. I fished around and gave him my cleaning rag for my eyeglasses. “Put up the bonnet.” he said. After cleaning the sparks he smiled delightfully and bowed. I said, “Look here, let us do something for you, too.” But he would have none of it. Instead he asked this question, “D’ye think John Kennedy will become the president of the United States?” I replied, “Of course.” Then, with utter charm, he leaned his head over side-ways in my direction and said, “An’ do you think, he has a chance?” I laughed merrily and said, “He has the best chance in the world in our
country.” Then we insisted on his taking something and going to the nearest pub to have a toast on John Kennedy.

You would have laughed to see how quickly he parked his broom and swayed jauntily down the street…no boss to say him nay…and I doubt whether he’d have listened.

When I go back to Ireland this summer, God willing, I will look him up and buy him another drink.

So God Bless You, Mrs. Kennedy. We love you dearly.

Another Irishman,
Peg Chapman