Clint Hill - Mrs. Kennedy and Me - An Intimate Memoir

Mrs. Kennedy and Charles DeGaulle at Versailles

President Kennedy certainly noticed. At a luncheon in which he spoke to four hundred journalists, President Kennedy began his short speech with: “I do not think it altogether inappropriate to introduce myself. I am the man who accompanied Jacqueline Kennedy to Paris. And I have enjoyed it.” The crowd roared with laughter. It was typical of JFK—to point out the obvious, and find the humor in it. He would use that line again, two and a half years later, when Mrs. Kennedy accompanied him to Texas.

ON JUNE 2, as President and Mrs. Kennedy were saying their good-byes at Orly Airport, preparing to board Air Force One for the flight from Paris to Vienna, Mrs. Kennedy reached out her hands to me and said, “Oh, Mr. Hill, it was all just magical. I couldn’t have imagined anything better. Thank you so much for making everything go so smoothly.”

“You’re very welcome, Mrs. Kennedy,” I said. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I guess I’ll see you in Athens, then?” she asked.

“I’m on my way this afternoon,” I replied. “I’ll see you there in a few days.”

What Mrs. Kennedy didn’t know was that the president had made an unusual request of me regarding her trip to Greece.

Shortly before I left for Paris, I got word that President Kennedy wanted to see me in the Oval Office. I couldn’t imagine what this was about. I had never been summoned to the Oval Office before.

When I walked in, President Kennedy was standing there, with his brother Bobby, the attorney general.

“Clint,” the president said, “I understand you will be doing the advance for Mrs. Kennedy in Greece.”

“Yes, Mr. President, that’s what I have been advised.”

The president glanced at the attorney general and looked back at me.

“The attorney general and I want to make one thing clear . . . and that is, whatever you do in Greece, do not let Mrs. Kennedy cross paths with Aristotle Onassis.”

I had heard the name Onassis before, but I honestly didn’t understand the significance, or why the president would be telling me this.

“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” I answered.

“Okay then,” he said. “Have a great trip.” And with that, I walked out of the Oval Office.

The Paris trip really had gone off marvelously, but as I watched the presidential plane take off for Vienna, all I could think about was what President Kennedy had said to me in the Oval Office.

Whatever you do, do not let Mrs. Kennedy cross paths with Aristotle Onassis.

6

Traveling with Mrs. Kennedy

Greece

Clint Hill (in sunglasses) with Mrs. Kennedy and Mrs. Karamanlis at the Parthenon

It was cold and blustery, with slashing rain, when Air Force One touched down at Schwechat airport, outside Vienna. Despite the dismal weather, thousands of people stood huddled in their rain slickers under umbrellas all along the motorcade route just to see President and Mrs. Kennedy drive by on their way to the Hofburg Palace, where the president would pay his respects to the president of Austria, prior to his meeting with Khrushchev.

Meanwhile, Special Agent Ken Giannoules and I were seated aboard an Olympic Airlines Comet Jet aircraft, headed for Athens. I was dying to talk to Ken about what President Kennedy had said to me regarding Aristotle Onassis, and to find out if Ken might know the reasons behind the president’s instructions, but we had to be careful about what we discussed in public. You never knew who might overhear. I’d have to wait until he and I were alone to get the information.

Ken Giannoules was twenty-five years old, unmarried, had jet-black hair and an olive complexion, and judging from the way the stewardess was fawning over him, I guess it would be safe to say women found him attractive. We kept the conversation to small talk, and inquired about each other’s backgrounds. I liked Ken and could tell we would work well together. He seemed to have a strong work ethic and a great sense of humor, and the fact that he could speak Greek would be immensely helpful on the advance.

When we landed at Ellinikon International Airport in Athens a representative from the U.S. Embassy was there to pick us up and drive us to our hotel near the embassy. It was much warmer in Athens than it had been in Paris, and the sky was a brilliant cloudless blue. As we drove through the busy streets of Athens, I thought about what Mrs. Kennedy would think when she arrived. Compared to the order and elegance of Paris, Athens was like the unruly, sometimes chaotic, unpredictable cousin that tempted you with adventure. I didn’t know Mrs. Kennedy well enough yet to know how she would react to this environment in which she didn’t speak the language. She had been so comfortable in France, and I wanted to make sure her eight-day visit to Greece was just as memorable. Prior to my departure to Paris, Mrs. Kennedy had told me some of the things she wanted to do while in Greece—go to an outdoor Greek theater and watch a play, visit some of the islands, and of course see the ancient ruins in Athens.

This would be Mrs. Kennedy’s first foreign trip without her husband, and I was responsible for her protection. Even though she was being hosted by the prime minister, the visit was considered unofficial, and there would be no elaborate arrival and departure ceremonies. But, having just witnessed in Paris the intense outpouring of interest and affection for Mrs. Kennedy, and the large crowds that appeared wherever she went, I had to assume the same thing would happen in Greece.

The driver turned onto a side street that had a row of shops selling produce, meat, and seafood. People were walking everywhere with their shopping bags, purchasing fresh food for the evening meal. Outside one vendor, a row of pig heads hung from hooks, their eyes staring at the passersby.

“Oh God, Ken,” I said, pointing to the heads. “That is one thing Mrs. Kennedy will not want to see,” I said. “She is such an animal lover. I’m afraid that would sicken her.”

Ken laughed and said, “It’s not too appealing to me, either. Kind of reminds me of the meat markets on the south side of Chicago.”

“Reminds me of Seoul, Korea,” I said. “God, that was a mess.” I shook my head as the memories flooded back. “I was there with Eisenhower in 1960 and you could not believe the crowds. Since he played a key role in ending the Korean War, the Koreans revered him as a hero.”

I knew that Ken was new to the White House Detail and while he had just witnessed the huge crowds around President Kennedy in Paris, he hadn’t yet experienced how a peaceful and enthusiastic gathering can turn to chaos in an instant.

“We got there and I swear, every damn person in the city of Seoul was in the streets trying to get a view of Eisenhower as he rode by in the motorcade. It was crazy—seemed like there were millions of them crawling all over each other. We had taken an official car to a palace prior to the president’s arrival, but he never got there. We ended up having to change his schedule because massive crowds had blocked the streets, and when we came out—I am telling you the God’s honest truth—that car had been crushed flat by people climbing over it to get a better vantage point.”

“Geez,” Ken said.

“I’ll never forget that. That’s when I learned how unpredictable a crowd can be. After seeing how the French reacted to Mrs. Kennedy, I assume there will be a similar response here. We have to make damn sure the Greek authorities are prepared to manage their people.”