Every Day Is Extra

by John Kerry

  Onward.

  Living in Washington, D.C., a Cub Scout and aspiring outfielder for the Washington Senators, circa 1950.

  Sitting with my beloved Cairn puppy, Sandy, in Pa’s easy chair at 3806 Jennifer Street in Washington, D.C., circa 1953.

  My dad, Richard J. Kerry, in 1954 in front of the American Mission Berlin, where he served as legal advisor to the high commissioner of Germany, James Conant.

  My mother, Rosemary Isabel Forbes, after she came to the United States in 1940 to marry my father. It was the beginning of World War II and she had escaped Paris on a bicycle ahead of the German invasion, eventually boarding a ship in Portugal for the United States.

  Our family gathered at the captain’s dinner aboard the SS America traveling from New York Harbor to Le Havre, France, as Dad headed off to another posting in the Foreign Service. From left to right: me, Diana (who clearly didn’t want her picture taken), Peggy, Mom and young Cam in his sailor suit.

  My brother and sisters. Left to right: Cameron, Diana, me and Peggy after returning from Berlin in 1956.

  My War Department identification card, age thirteen, in 1956. My parents probably thought the clerk forgot to type the letters “In” in front of “Dependent Son,” especially after I had ridden my bike unattended into Cold-War East Berlin.

  Probably my first Forrest Gump moment, as Roger Simon used to call them: sailing with President Kennedy in Narragansett Bay in the summer of 1962. Jackie’s mother, Janet Lee Bouvier Auchincloss, is in the foreground.

  The 1965 Yale soccer team. First row from the left: David Thorne and yours truly. First row, third from the right: Dick Pershing.

  Admiral Zumwalt and Captain Hoffman flew from Saigon to decorate the crews of PCF-94, PCF-23 and PCF-43. Front row kneeling left to right: Rear Gunner Mike Medeiros, Ltjg. John Kerry, Ltjg. Don Droz. Back row, standing, left to right: third from left, Radarman Seaman Tommy Belodeau; fourth from left, Gunner’s Mate Fred Short; Engineman Gene Thorson; ninth from left, Chief Petty Officer Del Sandusky (in glasses); far right, Ltjg. Bill Rood.

  PCF-94 leading an exposed line of Swift boats up a small river in the Cà Mau Peninsula to insert troops near Năm Can in early 1969. Ltjg. Bill Rood’s PCF-23 is in the foreground.

  On a Sealords mission, PCF-43 and her crew, led by my friend Ltjg. Don Droz, who was later killed in action on April 12, 1969, in a nearby river where their Swift boat was destroyed by a B-40 rocket.

  Enjoying a relaxing moment below the gun turret on the cabin roof of PCF-94 with our boat’s mascot, VC, who yapped his way through several firefights.

  Aboard PCF-43 after the ambush, beached in the mangrove alongside PCF-94, where we overran the enemy. Left to right: Ltjg. Bill Rood, OINC of 23 boat; Ltjg. Don Droz, OINC of 43 boat; BM2 Wayne Langhofer; Engineman Lloyd Jones and me. In the tank in the very front is Radarman Michael Modansky; in the big gun tub in the upper rear is Gunner’s Mate Bob Harnsburger.

  My boss and a gentleman, Admiral Walter F. Schleck, commander of military sea transport, pinning the Bronze Star with Combat “V” on me, his personal aide and Flag Lieutenant, at the Brooklyn Navy Yard in the fall of 1969.

  Testifying before the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations on April 21, 1971. I was to spend twenty-eight years on the other side of the dais on a committee I loved. In this photo, my older sister, Peggy, a stalwart activist who introduced me to many of the vets I was to work with, is right behind me, supportive as always.

  I was then and remain a Beatles fanatic and suddenly found myself in a pinch-me moment with John Lennon, before introducing him at an anti-war rally in New York’s Bryant Park, in April of 1972. The Nixon administration was debating whether to deport Lennon for his anti-war activism.

  Addressing the rally in Bryant Park in April of 1972 before introducing John Lennon.

  Seated: Middlesex District Attorney John J. Droney, with Senate candidate Paul Tsongas and me, first assistant district attorney, in the DA’s office during Droney’s reelection campaign in 1978. I loved my time as a prosecutor in Middlesex County—it was one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. We took on organized crime and modernized the office.

  With Ted Kennedy, prior to being sworn in to the Senate for the first time on January 2, 1985. My friend and senior colleague inscribed it: “To John—as Humphrey Bogart would have said, ‘this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’ Day 1, 1985.”

  On a summer’s day ride with my daughters on Naushon Island. Vanessa riding with me, and Alexandra following.

  In the Speaker’s office with Teddy Kennedy and the legendary Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill on Tip’s last day as Speaker.

  Serving as Chairman of the POW/MIA Select Committee, seated with John McCain during a hearing on December 1, 1992. John and I were working to make peace with Vietnam after we made peace with each other.

  Teresa and I relaxing in Pittsburgh during a quiet weekend off the campaign trail.

  On stage after accepting the Democratic nomination for president at home in Boston.

  Teresa and I at a massive rally in Portland, Oregon, in the final months of the campaign for president, on August 13, 2004.

  Playing hockey in the then–Verizon Center in Washington, D.C., at the annual Lawmakers vs. the Lobbyists charity game on March 15, 2009.

  My grown-up, accomplished, always inspiring daughters Vanessa (left) and Alexandra (right), with me at the wedding of a family friend in the summer of 2011.

  Conducting “Stars and Stripes Forever” with the Boston Pops at Symphony Hall in Boston during a celebration of my twenty-five years in the Senate and forty-five years in public service. Conductor Keith Lockhart didn’t have to worry about his day job.

  President Barack Obama and I “sparring” after our final mock debate in 2012. The President had asked me to play the role of Mitt Romney.

  My first morning at Foggy Bottom as secretary of state: delivering welcoming remarks in the C Street lobby of the State Department’s Harry S Truman Building. It was February 4, 2013, and I’m holding up my first-ever diplomatic passport, issued in 1954. Life came full circle; I was thinking of Dad that day and the around-the-world journey he set me on, literally and figuratively.

  Six days after being privately sworn in as the nation’s sixty-eighth secretary of state by Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan, I was publicly sworn in by my friend Vice President Joe Biden in the Benjamin Franklin Room of the U.S. Department of State on February 6, 2013.

  With my Russian counterpart, Sergei Lavrov, at the Department of State on August 9, 2013. Sergei is among the smartest diplomats, a tough interlocutor and a fanatical soccer fan.

  Meeting with Russian President Vladimir Putin at the Kremlin in Moscow, Russia, on July 14, 2016. Ukraine and Syria were on the agenda.

  Meeting with King Salman (right) of Saudi Arabia at the Royal Court in Jeddah on May 15, 2016.

  I probably spent more time as secretary with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin “Bibi” Netanyahu than I did with any other world leader. Here we were meeting in New York City on September 23, 2016, during my last United Nations General Assembly as secretary.

  Negotiations with Javad Zarif and the Iranian delegation on January 16, 2016, at the Palais Coburg hotel in Vienna, Austria. Zarif sits directly opposite me.

  Checking my speech with Ben the Diplomutt on the eighth-floor balcony of the State Department overlooking the Lincoln Memorial.

  Catching up on some calls while kicking around the well-traveled soccer ball during a refueling stop in Sal Island, Cape Verde, on May 5, 2014. Dad jeans courtesy of The Gap.

  In November of 2016, I became the highest-ranking United States government official ever to visit Antarctica, where I met with scientists from all over the world to learn more about climate change. The scientific evidence presented was compelling, and it dramatically increased my sense of urgency about the problem.

  Signing the historic UN Paris Agreement on Climate Change at the United Nations Assembly Hall in New York City on Apri
l 22, 2016, with my two-year-old granddaughter, Isabelle, in my lap.

  Visiting the State Department initiative to preserve the Mekong Delta. Back on the Bay Hap River in the Năm Can and Cái Nu’ó’c Districts of Vietnam with Yale classmate, fellow veteran and Senior Advisor David Thorne during my last visit to Vietnam as secretary on January 14, 2017. As I said to David that day, “this is strange, getting even stranger.”

  More than four decades after PCF-94 was attacked by Vo Ban Tam and his team on February 28, 1969, I shook hands with a former adversary at the Năm Boat and Bus Station in Năm Can, Vietnam. It’s hard to believe that almost forty-eight years ago, our job was to try to kill each other.

  Meeting with President Obama and Pope Francis in the White House. Pope Francis had just grabbed the president’s arm and said, “This is the Ambassador of Peace.” He overwhelmed me with that compliment and said that he prayed for me during my journeys.

  The last minutes of my last day: in my packed-up seventh-floor office, one final review of my farewell remarks with my daughter Vanessa on January 19, 2017. Stripping the office bare turned out to be a prelude to what was to follow after my departure.

  Acknowledgments

  I HAVE BEEN LUCKY beyond words to have had extraordinary people by my side to guide, advise, caution, exhort, challenge, tolerate, teach and love me through a grand adventure, with more to come, I hope.

  This book is a sweep through almost three-quarters of a century. I say sweep because I have been blessed with a life so full that I could write a separate book about individual stops on the journey—growing up, the war in Vietnam, the years as an activist fighting to stop it, the District Attorney’s Office and practicing law, Massachusetts politics, twenty-eight fascinating years in the Senate, and four post-to-post, packed years as secretary of state. Every Day Is Extra logs the entire journey under one cover in a way that shares with you who I am and what has motivated me. It is honest and comprehensive, even as it is by necessity compacted.

  The challenge of thanking those who made both the journey and its retelling possible is a daunting one; it is too easy to leave someone out or inadvertently give short shrift to one period over another. My life in politics didn’t begin as lieutenant governor or senator, and my immersion in diplomacy didn’t begin at the State Department. I hope that those who were there for the journey to and through all these destinations spot their reflection in the lessons that prepared me to arrive there and contribute after I did. When I look back, I remember the words of Tennyson: “I am a part of all that I have met.” The many, many people whom I have met, worked with, been inspired by and come to respect are a part of me and a part of this book forever. I am, at seventy-four, well-aware that there’s truth to the maxim “If you see a turtle on a fencepost, you know it didn’t get there on its own.”

  I start with the book itself. I am grateful to my small, loyal team that has worked with me over the last year and a half to help me write, research, fact-check and edit my usually longer than necessary descriptions. Stephanie Epner and Andrew Imbrie both worked with me at the State Department, where they were talented members of the Policy and Planning team. They traveled with me extensively in our petri dish flying machine, tolerating grueling hours, researching and writing their way around the world. They agreed to extend that journey and come with me after I left the State Department, and both did an outstanding job of researching and organizing massive amounts of material and helping me to reduce the clutter (I hope). They’re both going to contribute to the public debate in America for a long time.

  I could never have tackled this book without the skill of my friend and collaborator David Wade. He was my chief of staff both in the Senate and in the State Department. He knows my voice and my life. His wife, Elizabeth, and their two young sons, Robert and Alec, gave up a lot of time with Dad to make this happen.

  Matt Summers has been an unsung hero on my team since he came to work for me as a Senate intern, and climbed the ladder of numerous jobs to become invaluable. He’s fiercely loyal and incalculably capable, someone who handles sensitive assignments and small details with equal commitment. Julie Wirkkala has been my scheduler since 2003. Her fifteen years probably feel like dog years; she’s helped organize my life and move me around the globe with calm and precision. Together, their loyalty and constant vigilance on my behalf make my continued public life possible today.

  I thank Simon & Schuster for believing this was a life story worth publishing. Jonathan Karp’s enthusiasm helped me believe the time and effort was worthwhile. His words of encouragement kept me writing. Bob Bender, my patient and superb editor, believed in this book from the very beginning. As an editor citizen, Bob has lived most of the issues raised in this chronicle. He weighed in with practical, sometimes tough assessments about clichés and drivel. His skill was invaluable in helping to excise the excess and home in on the important. Bob doesn’t blow smoke at you. You have to earn approval, and it was fun trying to do so. I am grateful for his knowledgeable guidance.

  Simon & Schuster is blessed with a talented team. I hope I have met the high standards of Johanna Li, Associate Editor; Jonathan Evans, Manager of Copyediting; Richard Rhorer, Associate Publisher; Cary Goldstein, Publicity Director; Julia Prosser, Deputy Director of Publicity; and Jackie Seow, Vice President and Executive Director of Trade Art. I’m also forever grateful to the two gifted photographers who captured two distinct moments in my life: George Butler, whose photos appear on the cover and inside, and Kelly Campbell, whose photo appears on the back cover.

  To Bob Barnett, with gratitude not just for helping me navigate the path to Simon & Schuster, but also for endless enthusiasm about everything that’s followed. I got to know Bob really well in 2012 when I was assigned the task of playing the Republican presidential nominee in debate prep. This was a much more familiar environment to get to know him better!

  In the final weeks I asked a few of my oldest friends to read through key chapters and a couple of folks to read from start to finish. My profound thanks to my former chief of staff in the Senate and head of Policy Planning at State, a character in this book and an extraordinary ally in life, Ambassador David McKean, and my friend of forty-five years, Robert Shrum, both of whom dropped everything to read the manuscript and made thoughtful, insightful suggestions. David McKean is a terrific writer in his own right who penned five books in the years he worked for me, and Bob Shrum’s gift for the written word is exceeded only by his gift for friendship. I also want to thank my close friend Tim Collins for his astute observations both on sections written about and some things not said. Tim’s agile and inquisitive mind keeps pushing limits, and I am grateful for the intellectual and personal relationship.

  To Evelyn Small, thank you for serving as such an invaluable sounding board and sharing years of wisdom.

  I wanted to make certain the geography of South Vietnam and our missions was traceable in an understandable form. My thanks to the team at the Yale University Library, as well as David Medieros at the Stanford Geospatial Center, who worked to make that happen.

  Any writing determined to accurately reflect events as they unfolded requires reference to government documents and coordination with the State Department. I thank Behar Godani, who was unbelievably helpful in making space available at the State Department, locating my personal notes, and working with us to ensure any sensitive references were handled appropriately.

  A group of fellows at Yale contributed time, thinking and research skill. I thank Chris Haugh for helping to organize those efforts.

  The list of friends who have been part of this journey is far too long to include them all here. But I am blessed with special journeymen and -women who are directly involved in every page, every step, by name or by contribution. I love them all and thank my lucky stars for such company. There’s my brother, Cam, and sisters, Peggy and Diana, and our many cousins who have enriched our lives. I have leaned on friends from growing up, from high school to college, including David T
horne, Dan Barbiero, Harvey Bundy, Lewis Rutherfurd, a great group of friends from Yale, from my fraternity, extracurricular activities, athletic teams, debating and Jonathan Edwards College.

  I put my life in the hands of those I served with on PCF-44 and PCF-94 and we remain brothers to this day: Bill Zaladonis, Jim Wasser, David Alston, Drew Whitlow, Del Sandusky, Fred Short, Gene Thorson and Mike Medeiros—and two crewmates we lost too soon, Tommy Belodeau and Steve Hatch. They are heroes each and all, and I’m forever grateful to all of those who served in Swift boats and for all we gave each other on those rivers.