Bravely, The Kennedy Family Shares a Grief-filled Weekend
WASHINGTON — (UPI) — John Fitzgerald Kennedy would have been proud of his wife Jacqueline and their two children yesterday.
By Helen Thomas
They heard with dignity the tributes to him as a man and to his work that sounded in the rotunda of the Capitol.
THE 34-YEAR-OLD WIDOW of the clain President wanted to share the last historic tributes to her husband with the two children he so openly adored—Caroline, who will be six years old Wednesday, and John Jr., who is three today.
Mrs. Kennedy wore a black suit with a black lace mantilla over her dark hair. She wore deeper makeup than usual, probably to hide tear stains. Even so, there were tear stains on her face as she walked up the steps of the Capitol, holding the hands of the youngsters, both of whom wore powder blue coats and red shoes.
It was no surprise to many that Mrs. Kennedy brought the children. Her husband's great sense of history had prompted her, and she has always wanted the family to share together in its life—the good and the bad. She knew her husband always liked to take the children along with him. Sometimes she had to put her foot down because of the attention they got.
CAROLINE YESTERDAY had the look of a child who understood the solemn occasion. Her face was pale. Every once in a while she would look up at her mother, as if for reassurance.
Crowd Mourns With Kennedys
WASHINGTON — (UPI) — To the muted cadence of muffled drums, the body of the President was borne from the White House yesterday to the Capitol past 300,000 solemn Americans lining the procession route. There the flag draped coffin law as thousands filed by in tribute.
The body laid in state within the closed casket until funeral services at noon today, followed by burial in Arlington National Cemetery on a hill overlooking the Potomac.
MRS. JACQUELINE KENNEDY with five-year-old Caroline at her side, walked to the bier, knelt, and placed a reverent kiss on the casket.
John F. Kennedy Jr. was not quite so self-disciplined as his mother and sister. When he tried to make friends with those standing nearby, a naval aide led him away.
People began arriving yesterday at dawn taking up vigil before the White House. By mid-morning lines stretched all along the tree-lined route to the capitol. By 1 p.m. when the cortege left the executive mansion, the crowds had solidly packed the streets.
In the procession behind a company of enlisted men from the Navy, and a special honor guard, came the horse drawn casket.
It was riding on the same caisson that carried the body of the late President Franklin D. Roosevelt.
As the procession moved slowly by there were tears from some women and pinched lips on some male faces.
MRS. IDA Composto, who walked five miles to stand across the street from the White House, spoke for the many with dry eyes.
"I got no more tears to cry," she said.
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John Jr. — often referred to as "John-John" — had heard the 21-gun salute many times on happier occasions, but somehow the silence that prevailed and the sad faces around him, kept the active little boy quiet as the honors were rendered to his father.
Just before the eulogies began, John-John got restless, and wanted to make friends around him. He was led away by a naval aide.
As John-John walked up the steps of the Capitol, he sort of skipped. Apparently to him there was much that was familiar.
Caroline stayed with her mother. The little girl knew that she must be very quiet, but sometimes she would stare at the high painted ceiling in fascination. Other times she would scratch her knee or her arms.
CAROLINE YAWNED once, but she was quickly brought back to
His Playmate Is Missing
By Helen Thomas
John Fitzgerald Kennedy Jr., says his father was killed by "a bad man." But still he doesn't seem to understand why the slain president is not there to walk the White House corridors with him or why he is not allowed in the presidential offices.
WASHINGTON — (UPI) — A 'lonely little boy who observes his third birthday today wandered through a big Washington house Saturday complaining, "I don't have anyone to play with."
It is different for Caroline Kennedy, who will be six years old Wednesday. Bright beyond her years, she seemed to comprehend death.
The children were told Friday night that their father was dead.
FRIENDS SAID Mrs. Kennedy, not given to public displays of emotion, was making it a point to try to hold up under the strain. They said she "hasn't yet realized completely what has happenend."
On the plane back to Washington, she remained transfixed, staring at the casket in an alcove
When she saw her husband's body for the last time, Mrs. Kennedy placed her wedding ring on the finger of the man she alternately called "Jack" and "The President," and kissed him.
The late president used to take a break from the strains of office by walking across the lawn to where his children were playing. They would run to hug their father. When he went home at night he would clap his hands, saying "Where are my rascals." The children came running.
reality when she heard the voice of Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield reading his tribute to her father.
As they came out of the rotunda, John-John, on his mother's left, walked down the 36 steps of the Capital carrying a tiny American flag clutched in a small fist.
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(UP1)—PRESIDENT JOHNSON was sworn into office by a woman judge appointed by the late president. She is Federal Judge Sarah T. Hughes, the first woman judge in the Dallas General District.
(UPI)—THE SINGLE SHOT that rang out, killing presidential assassination suspect Oswald, could be heard clearly through the open telephone line to the Dallas Bureau of United Press International.
DECK THE HALLS
The time has come to think of Christmas shopping, for the Yuletide will be upon us quicker than you can say Jack Robinson. (Have you ever wondered, incidentally, about the origin of this interesting phrase "Quicker than you can say Jack Robinson"? Well sir, the original saying was French—"Plus vite que de dire Jacques Robespierre." Jack Robinson is, as everyone knows, an Anglicization of Jacques Robespierre who was, as everyone knows, the famous figure from the French Revolution who, as everyone knows, got taurdered in his bath by Danton. Murat. Caligula, and Al Capone.
(The reason people started saying "Quicker than you can say Jacques Robespierre"—or Jack Robinson, as he is called in English-speaking countries like England, the U.S., and Cleveland—is quite an interesting little story. It seems that Robespierre's wife, Georges Sand, got word of the plot to murder her husband in his bath. All she had to do to save his life was call his name and warn him. But, alas, quicker than she could say Jacques Robespierre, she received a telegram from her old friend Frederic Chopin who was down in Majorca setting lyrics
to his immortal "Warsaw Concerto." Chopin said he needed Georges Sand's help desperately because he could not find a rhyme for "Warsaw." Naturally, Georges could not refuse such an urgent request.
(Well sir, off to Majorca went Georges, but before she left, she told her little daughter Walter that some bad men were coming to murder Daddy in his bath. She instructed Walter to shout Robespierre's name the moment the bad men arrived. But Walter, alas, had been sea-bathing that morning on the Riviera, and she had come home with a big bag of salt water taffy, and when the bad men arrived to murder Robespierre, Walter, alas, was chewing a wad of taffy and could not get her mouth unstuck in time to shout a warning. Robespierre, alas, was murdered quicker than you could say Jacques Robespierre —or Jack Robinson, as he is called in English-speaking countries.
(There is, I am pleased to report, one small note of cheer in this grisly tale. When Georges Sand got to Majorca, she did succeed in helping Chopin find a rhyme for "Warsaw" as everyone knows who has heard those haunting lyrics:
In the fair town of Warsaw,
Which Napoleon's horse saw,
Singing cockles and mussels, alive alive o!)
But I digress.
We were speaking of Christmas gifts. What we all try to find at Christmas is, of course, unusual and distinctive gifts for our friends. May I suggest then a carton of Marlboro Cigarettes?
What? You are astonished? You had not thought of Marlboros as unusual? You had regarded them as familiar, reliable smokes whose excellence varied not one jot nor title from year to year?
True. All true. But all the same, Marlboros are unusual because every time you try one, it's like the first time. The flavor never pails, the filter never gets hackneyed, the soft pack is ever a new delight, and so is the Flip Top box. Each Marlboro is a fresh and pristine pleasure, and if you want all your friends to clap their hands and cry, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!" you will see that their stockings are filled with Marlboros on Christmas morn. © 1963 Max Shulman
The holiday season or any other season is the season to be jolly—if Marlboro is your brand. You'll find Marlboros wherever cigarettes are sold in all fifty states of the Union. You get a lot to like in Marlboro Country.
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