The Kennedy Heirs: John, Caroline, and the New Generation

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  “About an hour later, Michael had a loud argument with Vicki,” recalled Theresa Lichtman, who worked at that time in the kitchen. “It got pretty volatile.”

  “What is it you want from me?” Michael shouted at Vicki, according to Lichtman.

  “I want you to stop drinking,” she said, upset.

  “I think what you meant to say is: Michael, maybe we should have a little talk about your drinking,” he said.

  “That comment really set Mrs. Kennedy [Vicki] off,” recalled Theresa, “and the next thing everyone knew, the two of them were off and running. ‘I don’t want to hear another word about it,’ Michael said angrily. He held up his hand to silence her. ‘End of subject,’ he said. ‘Now, just shut up about it.’ It was so surprising.”

  Again according to Theresa Lichtman, at that point, Ted Kennedy went over to Michael and said, “Come on, kid, let me sober you up.” He patted him on the shoulder and kissed him on the top of his head. Michael pulled away. “This isn’t the eighties, Uncle Teddy,” he said, “and I’m not a kid anymore. Leave me alone.” Now the Senator was the one upset. “Whatever your problem is,” he told Michael, angrily, “you’d better suck it up. You’re a Kennedy.” He then walked over to Ethel and remarked, “I think that boy drinks too much.” She looked at him with annoyance and said, “Ya think?” Then—all of this according to the witness—Ted said, “I don’t know … maybe the kid is still dealing with Bobby’s death.” At that, Ethel got angry. “It’s been almost twenty-five years,” she exclaimed. “Don’t you dare blame it on Bobby.”

  Also, at this time, Michael had been tasked with helping to orchestrate his uncle Teddy’s latest run for the Senate, this year against an unknown named Mitt Romney. He had a hard time with it, his organizational skills lacking. Ted wasn’t happy with his work, but Michael complained that it was impossible to keep his uncle on message. It was true that Ted’s charm with the ladies was still an issue at the age of sixty-two, even if he was now married. “Senator Ted Kennedy at your service,” he would say with a wink as he extended his hand to a lovely admirer. Michael would just shake his head in frustration.

  “You have no idea what my life is like or what it feels like to be me,” Michael told Vicki the day after Labor Day during dinner. He then got up and stormed off. Ethel hollered after him. “Michael! You get back here right now.” He returned, his head hanging low. His mother then rose, looked up at him—he was at least a foot taller than she was—and smacked him hard on the side of his head with her open palm. “Grow up,” she commanded. “Now, you apologize to Vicki,” she added, all this according to Leah Mason, who witnessed it. Michael faced his wife and muttered, “Sorry, Vicki,” as if he were twelve, not thirty-six. “Fine. Now go,” Ethel told him. After he skulked away, Vicki started to rise, saying, “I should probably go after him.” However, her mother-in-law placed a stern hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down. “No,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  Michael’s Temptation

  Though she was just a teenager, she somehow seemed older. Not only was it her appearance—her full and shapely figure, the heavy makeup, clothing that seemed more suited for a woman in her twenties—it was also the way she comported herself. Sixteen-year-old Marisa Verrochi—born on January 29, 1978—wasn’t one of those kids uncomfortable or awkward in social situations with adults, not wanting to make eye contact. When she spoke to grown-ups, she was smart and funny. When she listened, she was invested. However, no matter how mature she may have seemed, she was still just a young girl with the vulnerability normal to kids her age.

  In recent years, Marisa had been troubled by family dysfunction, specifically her mother’s alcoholism. Former schoolteacher June Marie Verrochi, a shapely, attractive blonde who usually wore her hair in a smart pageboy cut, was a popular, social woman with sparkling blue eyes and a gregarious personality. She and her husband, Paul Verrochi, and their children—Marisa and her brothers, Matt and Marc—lived in an massive nineteenth-century seaside mansion with a wraparound driveway behind elegant white wooden gates in Cohasset, Massachusetts, right down the street from Michael and Vicki Kennedy. Not only were the Verrochis one of the wealthiest families in Cohasset, they were extremely social and could always be counted upon to show up for philanthropic events. Paul was well-connected politically, too, having raised a fortune for Democratic politics. He was even thinking of running for office. Privately, though, the fights he and June had over her drinking were constant. Sadly, their three children would be raised in a household where there always seemed to be some sort of high-stakes drama.

  Back in 1991, the ambitious and enterprising Paul founded American Medical Response—AMR; it quickly became the largest medical transportation company in the United States. “Paul was a great-looking guy,” said Ren Ayers, who was Paul and June’s personal masseuse, “a lot of dark hair, thick eyebrows. Square jawed. Muscular, built like a linebacker. Very personable. Good laugh. Though he could be quite stern, he sure did love his family.” Thomas Davis, a friend of Paul’s from Cohasset, confirmed, “June and the kids were Paul’s whole world. He was able to compartmentalize the arguments he had with June from the rest of their life together. ‘I let her drink,’ he told me, ‘and I keep an eye on it. It’s not the best situation, but she’ll go to AA soon.’ ‘Soon’ never seemed to happen, though.”

  Paul and June Verrochi were about eight years older than Michael and Vicki. The two couples had become close, their relationship solidified when Paul donated fifty thousand dollars to one of Michael’s most passionate causes—handgun control. Soon after, at Michael’s behest, Paul joined the board of Citizens Energy. By the middle of 1994, the two men were the best of friends; Paul was forty-four, Michael thirty-six.

  Paul was always able to make Michael laugh, cutting through his apathy and giving some relief from his depression, whether by just hanging out watching sports on television, or going to a bar to toss back a few. “Why is he such a miserable fuck?” Paul used to ask Thomas Davis. “He’s got the world by the balls. He’s a Kennedy.” Thomas would answer, “Maybe that’s why he’s such a miserable fuck.”

  When they were together, Paul and Michael sometimes commiserated about their troubled marriages. Of course, Paul was always worried about June’s alcoholism. Michael’s story was along the cliché-ridden lines of “Vicki doesn’t understand me.” Meanwhile, Vicki’s friendship with June was more guarded, the reason being that Marisa had taken to complaining to Vicki about her. Certainly, with the exception of June’s drinking, there wouldn’t have been anything particularly unusual about the troubled dynamic she had with her daughter. It was mostly the result of teenage rebellion: schoolwork, boys, chores, and other typical adolescent discord. It was June’s alcoholism that exacerbated the situation, making it so much more toxic. After a big argument with her mother, Marisa would inevitably run to Vicki, crying. Vicki would then end up being her counselor; she felt the need to be there for her.

  At one point in mid-1994, Paul confided in Michael that June had either slapped or threatened to slap Marisa—Paul wasn’t clear about it, maybe trying to protect his wife from judgment. Whichever the case, Paul was concerned. He also mentioned that Marisa had begun showing signs of the eating disorder bulimia. He didn’t know how to deal with it. Michael’s personal experience, he explained, was that when distance was put between his sisters and their mother, it often proved productive. Usually, the girls would go off camping for the summer months and that would be enough of a break for them to then return to a more peaceful relationship with Ethel at Hickory Hill.

  By this time, Marisa, who was five years older than Michael’s eldest, his namesake, had been babysitting for the Kennedys since about the age of fourteen. Michael suggested that, while they waited for this bad phase to be over between Marisa and June, maybe Marisa should move in with him and Vicki. He said he thought it might be a good idea for everyone.

  Michael’s suggestion struck Paul as a little strange. However, when he later m
entioned it to June, she didn’t think it was such a bad idea. Because June liked the Kennedys so much, she felt Marisa would be safe with them. She also pointed out that since they lived so close, it would be more like a sleepover for Marisa than anything else.

  Now Paul was conflicted. Of course he and June could probably use a break from their daughter’s moodiness and sullen behavior, but wouldn’t that have been true of any parents trying to raise a recalcitrant teenage daughter? If he couldn’t handle his own kid, he had to wonder, what kind of father was he? Michael wouldn’t let it go, though. He kept pushing the idea to the point where Paul actually began to question his determination to see it through. Over the course of a couple of weeks, Michael seemed downright fixated on the idea. Meanwhile, Paul continued to vacillate about it.

  One night, Paul went over to Michael’s home and found him and his brother Joe reviewing a mountain of paperwork with lawyers and business associates, all of it having to do with providing heat to the poor. Paul couldn’t help but be impressed that the Kennedy brothers cared so much about those less fortunate; Michael was impassioned about it, in fact. When he talked to Paul about the mission of Citizens Energy, he also explained the Kennedys’ long-held credo of being of service. Of course, this wasn’t the first time Paul had heard such words coming from Michael, but on this particular evening he was even more moved by them. They actually influenced him to acquiesce and agree to Michael’s plan for Marisa. Certainly, if the family’s philosophy of selflessness could influence his daughter even just a bit, she’d be all the better for it. Therefore, in the spring of 1994, Marisa Verrochi moved into the Kennedys’ home as their live-in babysitter.

  Without the benefit of an eyewitness, it’s difficult to ascertain exactly what occurred. Some have suggested that sixteen-year-old Marisa began to have a crush on the thirty-six-year-old Michael, which maybe wasn’t so unusual for a teenage girl living in the home of a powerful and handsome Kennedy. Some say she even started acting on it by being flirtatious and forward. If so, obviously it would have been Michael’s responsibility as a grown man, a husband, and a father, to put an immediate stop to it.

  Apparently, he didn’t.

  On June 24, 1994, many members of the Kennedy family went rafting on the Kennebec River near The Forks in Maine on a trip organized by Michael’s good friend John Rosenthal. In order to raft on the Kennebec, participants were required to fill out a Noncommercial Whitewater Rafting registration form for the Maine Warden Service. On this trip was a party of seventeen, including Michael and his brother Max and sister Rory, along with Marisa. Michael’s three children were present, as well as other kids as young as eleven. However, Vicki wasn’t a part of this trip. Instead, she attended a friend’s baby shower.

  During this particular getaway, people couldn’t help but notice that Michael and Marisa would often slip off to be alone. Some began to wonder about it; it did seem peculiar. However, certainly no one would accuse Michael of doing anything improper to exploit the power dynamic of his relationship with Marisa. While something didn’t seem quite right, no one could be sure that anything untoward was going on … or at least they hoped it wasn’t. Michael was drinking a lot, though, at this time, and he always seemed to be high on something. It was becoming difficult to know exactly what to think of him, and maybe hard to trust him, as well.

  Kennedy Strategy Session

  On January 3, 1995, an emergency Kennedy family trust meeting was called at Hickory Hill. Present were many of Ethel’s children—Kathleen, Bobby, Joe, Kerry, Rory, Max, and Christopher, as well as Jean Kennedy Smith’s son Willie. John flew in from New York, though Caroline did not attend. Ted Kennedy was present, as well. These kinds of family strategy meetings were common, or as the reporter Ben Bradlee, a close friend of JFK’s who had been the executive editor of The Washington Post, said in 1995, “The Kennedys would call a major family meeting to talk about what to have for dinner that evening. So you can be sure that when something major was happening, they would get everyone available in a room to make decisions as to how to go forward. It would be all hands on deck, so to speak, or at least as many hands as Ted and Ethel could pull together. Brain trust? To them, that was just another name for family.”

  During this top secret strategy session, the Kennedys all sat in Ethel’s living room and faced Michael, who was present with Vicki. One family strategist present, who insisted on anonymity to discuss internal deliberation, was a person who’d long handled the family’s public relations. He brought with him an assistant and a secretary to take notes.

  The family had come together to address Michael’s obvious drinking and drug use. Not only was it upsetting his wife and family members, it had recently become the subject of an off-putting press report. The writer cited credible sources who suggested that Michael’s behavior might affect Joe’s career as a congressman and Kathleen’s as a lieutenant governor.

  Joe Kennedy had been a congressman in the Eighth District of Massachusetts since 1987. He was extremely popular, a politician known for getting things done. Privately, he was also known in the family as the brother with the shortest fuse. For instance, back in 1985 when he heard that his cousin Teddy—Ted’s son—was considering running for the Senate seat once held by JFK, Joe was angry and everyone knew it. He was the oldest of the cousins and that was his seat, at least as far as he was concerned. It turned into a family dispute; in the end, neither man went for it.

  Christopher Lawford explained: “By the time Joe hit the testosterone-producing years of puberty, he had developed a fairly regular addiction to punching someone over something.” He also noted that Bobby Jr. was often a target, and that he had suffered a “lifetime of beatings” from his brother. “He could be a lot nicer” is how his cousin John, who always had issues with Joe, once put it. It was always interesting that, as a grown man and politician, Joe obviously cared deeply about others, yet somehow he also gave the appearance of not caring as much for those actually in his life. Criticism of him in this regard was nothing new to Joe, though. He was self-aware enough to know that people thought he could be, as John put it, “a lot nicer.” Or, as he once said, “I’m a dick and I know it. But at least I know it.”

  Kathleen was, by this time, lieutenant governor of Maryland under Parris Glendening. Of course, Ethel had encouraged her to run, as had Ted and everyone else, including his sisters Eunice, Pat, and Jean. Jean was another real role model for Kathleen; she’d recently been appointed U.S. ambassador to Ireland

  In her platform, Kathleen was more conservative than many of her relatives. For instance, unlike her uncle Ted, she supported the death penalty and believed that criminals sentenced to life shouldn’t be paroled, not as a deterrent, she explained to Time, “but because there are awful people who don’t have a right to live. The Democratic Party got away from believing personal responsibility was part of our agenda. But I’ve always believed it was part of mine.” She would remain a busy and accomplished woman, constantly giving speeches across the state, furthering her party’s platform, and conferring with her brother Joe on policy. “Maryland became the first state in the country to require all kids to do community service as a condition to high school graduation, and that was what I worked on for a number of years,” she recalled, “because I thought it was critical that not just Kennedys are told that they can get involved in changing their community, but that everybody should be able to do it.”

  There were other family members in influential positions who had a lot to lose if Michael’s behavior became publicly known. This was serious business and the stakes were high, just as was always the case whenever someone of Michael’s generation displayed behavior that threatened the family’s image. Ted would always tell them, “You need to think like Kennedys and make better choices.” However, they often didn’t take his advice, and some even felt maybe he didn’t have a lot of room to give it, considering some of his own choices.

  “This was an intervention,” said the source, “where each person
got up and faced Michael to let him know how his addiction had affected them. The point is that the addict has to then come to a full understanding of how his actions have impacted others and then make a decision to go into rehab, right then and there. Best-case scenario would have been to have a professional interventionist supervising things. That wasn’t the Kennedys’ way, though. They preferred to handle these sorts of things ‘in-house,’ so to speak.

  “Michael didn’t fight it; he said he’d go to rehab, but not immediately. He wanted a month to get his affairs in order. Everyone protested; no, no, no, they said, he should go right away. ‘I’m the one who has a lot to lose, Michael,’ Joe said, ‘and I’ve been good to you,’ he added, I guess referencing his handing of Citizens over to him. Michael muttered, ‘Sorry, Joe.’”

  Though he may not have shown it at the intervention, Joe’s criticism was hard on Michael. The two had always been inseparable; it was one of the reasons Joe had entrusted Citizens to him. More than anything, Michael believed in Joe and felt, like everyone else, he could one day become President, maybe even using a possible governorship of Massachusetts as a stepping-stone. “This situation is fucked up,” Joe concluded.”

  Ethel bolted out of her chair. “Language, Joe,” she exclaimed. “Language. Everyone simmer down. We’re Kennedys. Not hoodlums.”

  “No, Mummy,” Joe said with impatience. “If we can’t tell each other the truth, then why are we even here?”

  According to witnesses, Ethel didn’t respond; she just glared at her eldest until he averted his eyes and mumbled an apology. Michael then promised his mother he would go into treatment in a month and asked her to please just believe him. She agreed, but not before reminding him and everyone else present of what they had to lose. “People look up to this family,” she said with icy tenacity, “and we must still make a difference, each one of us. But we can’t if we’re unable to control our weaknesses,” she added, and then, staring at Michael, she concluded, “of which there are, apparently, many.” She then asked someone to get her a notebook, after which she went into her purse and pulled out a red pen; Ethel always had a red pen on hand, never any other color ink. With pen and paper in hand, she asked the Senator, “So, what is it we’re going to say, Teddy?”