Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir

by Clint Hill

  At 1:30 P.M. local time, we landed at San Antonio Airport. I looked out the window to see what awaited us.

  “Take a look at that crowd,” I said to Kellerman. “I bet there are five thousand people there.”

  “And that’s just the airport,” he said as he got up out of his seat. “Last word I got was that the police were expecting a hundred and twenty-five thousand along the motorcade route.”

  It wasn’t anything we hadn’t dealt with before. I just hoped Mrs. Kennedy had gotten some rest on the flight. It was going to be a long day. When Mrs. Kennedy emerged from the presidential cabin, she had changed into a short-sleeved white suit with a narrow black belt, and elbow-length white gloves. Knowing we would be riding in the open convertible, she had put on a black, beret-style hat to keep her hair from blowing in the wind.

  When President and Mrs. Kennedy emerged from the rear door of the aircraft, the crowd went wild. Vice President and Mrs. Johnson and Governor John Connally and his wife, Nellie, were lined up at the bottom of the stairs to greet them in a formal procession. Everybody knew their places. It had all been planned down to the minute and arrivals like this were almost always the same.

  The president and Mrs. Kennedy acknowledged the large crowd with waves and smiles, as the agents formed an envelope of protection around them. Not too close, but within an arm’s length, at all times. The schedule called for them to proceed directly to the waiting limousine, but the people behind the fence line were screaming and waving signs that said KENNEDY IN ’64. In typical fashion, President Kennedy couldn’t resist going to the fence to shake some hands.

  Mrs. Kennedy took me completely by surprise and followed the president toward the crowd. She had never done this before. This was the kind of thing she tried to avoid. I stayed close to her as she followed the president’s lead, tentatively reaching her gloved hand into the crowd. Ladies were shrieking at the sight of the president and calling out “Jackie! Jackie!”

  Mrs. Kennedy had indicated to me that she wanted to help her husband and I guess this was one way she was doing so. I thought back to our conversation at Atoka and her concerns.

  Do you think the climate in Dallas is so hostile to the president that the people could mistreat us like they did Adlai?

  No indication of that here in San Antonio, I thought. You couldn’t ask for a friendlier or more exuberant crowd.

  The motorcade vehicles were lined up ready to go, in a set procession, as outlined in the White House Advance Manual, which every White House Detail Secret Service agent carried. Two Secret Service vehicles had been flown to San Antonio ahead of time—the presidential limousine and the Secret Service follow-up car—while standard cars had been leased locally for the vice president and other members of the party.

  After a few minutes, the president waved good-bye, and he and Mrs. Kennedy took their seats in the limousine with Governor and Mrs. Connally.

  The midnight-blue Secret Service parade limousine, SS-100-X, which we had been using since March 1961, was specifically designed for motorcades like this. SS-100-X was the most advanced presidential parade limousine of its time. The Ford Motor Company and Hess & Eisenhardt had taken a standard Lincoln Continental convertible and modified it, using specifications provided by the Secret Service. The original wheelbase of 133 inches was extended to 156 inches—with the extra room all being in the rear passenger compartment; built-in jump seats in front of the rear seat allowed for additional passengers; a hydraulic lift allowed the president to be raised nearly a foot higher if he so desired; a loudspeaker system could be used to address a crowd.

  Then of course, there were the various roofs—the metal roof, a convertible top, and the Plexiglas “bubbletop.” There was a roll bar that ran from one side of the car to the other, above and slightly to the rear of the front seat, which provided support and acted as the fastening device for the different tops. What we had come to realize, in the past two and a half years of using the car, however, was that while it made for a great handlebar for the president to hold on to while standing in the car during a motorcade, its presence made it extremely difficult, almost impossible, for the agent in the right front seat to be able to get into the rear compartment, in the case of an emergency.

  One final drawback of this unique car was that, with the modifications, its weight had been increased from 5,215 lbs to 7,800 pounds, without passengers. And the specially designed 350-horsepower engine, although adequate for normal use, did not facilitate quick acceleration.

  What was most useful, from the Secret Service standpoint, were the special handles on the trunk and the steps on the rear bumper area where two additional agents could ride, and have immediate access to the occupants, should the need arise. But, as I’d been told the day before, the president did not want us there, on the back of the car.

  The Agent in Charge always rode in the right front passenger seat of the presidential vehicle, while the rest of the agents in the motorcade rode in the follow-up car—the large 1956 Cadillac convertible we called Halfback. Like SS-100-X, it had been modified with some special features. It could hold nine people in seats and had running boards along both sides, which, when you were standing on them, provided an elevated vantage point to observe the ever-present crowds. The running boards also served as launching platforms to get off and on the vehicle. Handholds attached to the edge of the windshield frame aided in our movement back onto the car.

  Behind the front seat, built into the divider from the rear, was a cabinet that held additional armaments. On this day, the AR-15 rifle was there.

  Normally President and Mrs. Kennedy would ride side-by-side alone on the rear bench seat, with guests occupying the jump seats. For some reason, Mrs. Connally joined the president and Mrs. Kennedy on the rear seat, while the governor sat in front of them, in the jump seat. It was a cloudless, sunny day, perfect weather for a political parade—and ideal for 100X to have no top on at all. Just the way President Kennedy liked it.

  It seemed that half the city of San Antonio had come out to watch the president drive by. They lined the streets with WELCOME JACK AND JACKIE signs, screaming and hollering all along the motorcade route from the airport to Brooks Air Force Base.

  I was riding on Halfback, immediately behind the presidential vehicle, with the agents on the 8:00–4:00 shift from the president’s detail. Standing in the forward position on the left running board of the follow-up car, next to driver Agent Sam Kinney, this put me in close proximity to Mrs. Kennedy, who was seated on the left side of the presidential limousine, and gave me a somewhat elevated position from which to observe the crowd. There was an agent standing behind me, two others on the right running board, two agents in the backseat, and Emory Roberts, the 8:00–4:00 shift leader, was in the right front passenger seat.

  As we traveled from San Antonio International Airport through the streets of the city, there were many places where the crowd was so dense that the people had spilled into the street. These were the situations in which I’d seen a mass of people surge toward the car, changing an otherwise peaceful motorcade into a swarm of chaos. It could happen in an instant. So, whenever I saw a particularly dense crowd alongside the road, I would jump off the running board, run to catch up with the presidential vehicle, and run alongside so that I was between Mrs. Kennedy and the people, until the crowds thinned. This could go on for a block, or a mile. Jump off, run, jog along for a while, fall back to the follow-up car, jump back on the running board. Off and on, on and off, for fifteen miles. The Florsheims were getting a good workout.

  We arrived at Brooks Air Force Base, where another nine thousand people cheered as President and Mrs. Kennedy entered the stage area. The president made a speech to dedicate the Aerospace Medical Center, the program concluded, and we were back in the vehicles for another motorcade to Kelly Air Force Base where Air Force One, the vice president’s plane, and the backup plane had been moved from the San Antonio airport.

  At this point, the 4:00–midnight shift took
over the president’s protection, and the morning shift—Emory Roberts’s 8:00–4:00 shift—headed to the venue in Houston to set up security in advance of the president’s arrival. Paul Landis and I didn’t have any replacement shift, so we carried on—me handling the motorcades and Paul moving ahead to our destination.

  Everybody boarded their respective planes and flew to Houston—a thirty-five-minute flight. The first stop had been a success, and on board Air Force One, the president was thrilled. When we landed in Houston, we did the whole routine all over again—complete with Vice President and Mrs. Johnson and Governor and Mrs. Connally greeting the President and Mrs. Kennedy as they got off Air Force One.

  There was a large, friendly, and enthusiastic crowd at the airport—nearly twice as many people as had been in San Antonio. And as before, President and Mrs. Kennedy willfully went to the fence line to greet the people who had come out to give them such a warm welcome.

  I guess this is how you win votes and elections—shaking as many hands as possible, hoping that brief personal connection will turn into a vote.

  I could tell Mrs. Kennedy was a bit tired, but she really seemed to be enjoying it.

  After several minutes, it was time to pile into the cars again for the motorcade into the city to the Rice Hotel. There hadn’t been time to securely transport SS-100-X and the follow-up car, so they were sent on to Dallas, to be used the following day. In Houston, the cars were standard Lincoln convertibles loaned to the Secret Service by the local dealer. The presidential vehicle was a bit tight as President and Mrs. Kennedy and the governor squeezed into the backseat, while Mrs. Connally was jammed in the front seat between driver Agent Bill Greer and ASAIC Kellerman. Not much room to move.

  The follow-up was also a standard Lincoln convertible, which was not very efficient for the agents working the motorcade. I sat on top of the car frame, with my legs straddling the door, one inside and one out. When the crowds were bigger, and I thought I might have to jump off quickly, I’d move to a sidesaddle position. It was awkward, and uncomfortable as hell. Running alongside the presidential vehicle was preferable, but it was impossible to run and keep up the entire way.

  At the Rice Hotel another huge crowd was waiting to greet President and Mrs. Kennedy. More hand-shaking in the crowd, and then up to the suite that had been arranged for them to rest and relax for a few hours before the evening’s activities.

  Mrs. Kennedy’s hair was windblown from having been in the open-top cars, and I could see in her eyes that she was somewhat drained.

  “How are you doing, Mrs. Kennedy?” I asked. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Hill, I’m fine. It’s been such a wonderful day, hasn’t it? I do need a rest, though, or I imagine I’ll collapse later this evening.”

  “Well, just let me know if you need anything.”

  I waited outside the suite with ASAIC Roy Kellerman as various people came and went. Ken O’Donnell and Dave Powers, the special assistants to the president—and both longtime friends—conferred with President Kennedy, while Mary Gallagher assisted Mrs. Kennedy. They rested, ate dinner, and changed clothes. At one point the president called for Vice President and Mrs. Johnson to join them in the suite, and after a short visit the Johnsons left to attend the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) dinner within the hotel.

  The schedule called for the president and Mrs. Kennedy to drop by the LULAC reception at 8:20 P.M. On my copy, Mrs. Kennedy had written in red pencil: Speech?

  At 8:40 P.M. the president and Mrs. Kennedy came out of the suite, smiling, and joking with Ken O’Donnell and Dave Powers.

  Mrs. Kennedy had changed into an elegant black cut-velvet dress, with long sleeves and a neckline that accentuated her three-strand string of pearls. She had touched up her makeup and her hair was once again perfectly coiffed. She looked stunning.

  Members of the hotel staff had lined the corridor, and as we walked past them to the elevators, the president smiled and said “Hello” as he guided Mrs. Kennedy, his hand gently on her elbow.

  Kellerman and I escorted them to the LULAC dinner on the second floor of the hotel for a surprise visit. The president spoke briefly and then introduced Mrs. Kennedy, who proceeded to address the group in Spanish. They loved it. The crowd gave her a standing ovation and shouted “Viva Jackie!” and “Viva Kennedy!” as the president stood by, looking admiringly at his wife, and obviously elated by the response of the crowd.

  We departed the Rice Hotel and drove to Sam Houston Coliseum to pay tribute to Congressman Albert Thomas. When the speech was finished we departed for Houston International Airport and once again boarded Air Force One. It was 10:15 P.M. when we departed Houston for Carswell Air Force Base, near Fort Worth.

  Vice President and Mrs. Johnson were once again there to greet the Kennedys as they arrived at Carswell after the fifty-minute flight. It was now 11:05 P.M. and thousands of people were there to view the arrival, including a lot of young children. Considering the late hour, this was somewhat of a surprise to me. The crowd was boisterous, quite enthusiastic, and very pro-Kennedy. Once again President and Mrs. Kennedy willingly approached the crowd and expressed their thanks for the outpouring of affection. They entered the vehicles—again the standard Lincoln convertibles—but this time, because of the darkness, the top was up, making it feel that much more crowded.

  There were some people standing alongside the road on the way into town, but when we pulled up to the Hotel Texas at 11:50 P.M., it was mobbed. There had to be four thousand people standing in the street and parking lot outside the hotel.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  It’s nearly midnight and here all these people are standing outside just to catch a glimpse of the president and the first lady? These people are crazy.

  When President and Mrs. Kennedy got out of the car, the crowd went nuts.

  Sure enough, the president dove into the crowd, Mrs. Kennedy followed, and I went right along beside her.

  Finally, we escorted President and Mrs. Kennedy up to Suite 850. ASAIC Kellerman and I got them settled and made sure everything was all right before we turned their security over to the midnight shift.

  It had been a long day for everybody.

  I went down to the lobby to see if I could locate something to eat. The clock read almost 1:00 A.M., which meant by my body clock it was almost 2:00 A.M. East Coast time. I hadn’t eaten for over thirteen hours. I had a craving for a nice big juicy burger and some fries. At the moment, I couldn’t think of anything but food.

  Paul Landis and a few of the other agents who had come in on the backup plane were in the lobby with some of the press corps. Everybody was famished. The Fort Worth Press Club was nearby and the newsies said the agents could join them.

  Merriman Smith from the UPI was the senior member of the press corps, and I knew him quite well.

  “Come on along, Clint,” he said. “We’ll get you fed.”

  We all walked over to the Press Club only to find the food was all gone.

  They had some peanuts, so I had a scotch and soda and some nuts, bought a couple packs of cigarettes, and left. We heard there was a place called the Cellar Club nearby that served food. We went there only to find the only thing they were serving was some kind of homemade fruit drink. It was horrible. I went back to my hotel room, right next to the presidential suite—disappointed and hungry.

  I called the Fort Worth White House switchboard and requested a wake-up call for 6:00 A.M., then called the hotel room service with an order for a nice big breakfast for 6:45. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was sound asleep.

  It had been a long day.

  I awoke at 6:00 A.M. to the sound of the phone ringing. Those White House switchboard operators never failed. There was noise outside the hotel so I got up and looked out the window to see what was going on. It was drizzling rain, and a crowd was already gathering to hear President Kennedy speak. He wasn’t scheduled to go out until about 8:30 A.M. and the people were already ga
thering—in the rain.

  It never ceased to amaze me, the star power President Kennedy had. It was really an unquantifiable thing—and Mrs. Kennedy had it, too. People just went crazy over them.

  I shaved and showered, and promptly at 6:45 A.M. breakfast arrived. The coffee was hot and black, and the eggs, bacon, and hash browns really hit the spot. This was one luxury I fully enjoyed.

  I packed everything back in my suitcase so it was ready for the transportation guys to send over to the LBJ Ranch in Austin, where we were to spend the night, and got ready to go to the presidential suite.

  I was standing in the hallway with Roy Kellerman and Emory Roberts when President Kennedy came out, flanked by Dave Powers and Ken O’Donnell.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” President Kennedy said. “Did you have a good night?”

  “Good morning, Mr. President,” we responded.

  “There’s quite a crowd out there,” Dave Powers said, gently urging the president. “Time to get moving.”

  A few minutes later, I heard women shrieking, and a thunderous applause. President Kennedy had just walked outside the hotel.

  I remained at the security post, just outside the entrance to the suite, giving Mrs. Kennedy as much privacy as possible. Mary Gallagher was already inside packing Mrs. Kennedy’s bags and helping her get ready.

  At 9:10 A.M. the security phone at the entrance to the presidential suite rang. It was agent Bill Duncan, the advance agent, calling from the breakfast being held downstairs.

  “Clint, the president wants you to bring Mrs. Kennedy down to the breakfast—now!”

  “Okay,” I said, “we’ll be right there.”

  I checked Mrs. Kennedy’s schedule and where it listed the breakfast there was a red check mark and a red-penciled footnote in her handwriting: JBK won’t attend.

  Oh well, I thought, everything is subject to change.