Mrs. Kennedy and Me: An Intimate Memoir Read Online Free PDF

was uppermost in his mind. The more I got to know him, the more I liked him, which made the fact that I was not on his protective detail all the more disappointing.
    A week after his son’s birth, on December 2, the president-elect flew back to Palm Beach, taking young Caroline and the nanny, Maud Shaw, with him, while Mrs. Kennedy and young John remained as patients in the hospital. Both Mrs. Kennedy and the baby were recovering well, but there wasn’t much activity other than the comings and goings of visitors. Mrs. Kennedy was largely confined to the bed in her room, and spent most of her time poring over reference materials about the White House. Frequently she would ask for me to come in to the room because she had some questions. Since Agent Jeffries had not worked on the White House Detail prior to this assignment, he had little knowledge of the type of information she wanted. So, she asked for me.
    I’d go into her room and she’d be sitting in bed, propped up with pillows. Dressed in her bedclothes, with no makeup on, she looked younger and morefragile than she had prior to John’s birth, and I could tell she was physically drained. Still, her thick eyebrows and eyelashes framed her big brown eyes against the pallor of her skin, and even in the drab hospital room, she exuded a natural, timeless beauty. With me, she had no need to impress. She had already become accustomed to my constant presence and realized I would see her at her best and her worst.
    She was focused on learning as much as possible about the White House—its history, its décor, and how everything worked on a daily basis. Who did the grocery shopping? Who handled the housekeeping? Where would the family eat their private meals? Was there any privacy? What about functions and dinner parties? What were the various rooms—the Red Room, the Green Room, the Blue Room—used for?
    She would have a list of questions written out on a lined, yellow legal pad, and as I answered her, she would listen intently, taking voracious notes and interposing questions as they occurred to her. She was savvy and smart, and it was clear that she was eager to make a good impression and wanted to have as much information going into her new role as possible, to avoid making any blunders. I sensed her vulnerability and tried to be as detailed and informative as possible. Our conversations were relaxed and comfortable, and while I enjoyed spending time with Mrs. Kennedy, I missed the camaraderie with the other agents. During those long days at the hospital, I really envied my colleagues who were constantly on the go with the president-elect.
    One afternoon she called me in and asked, “Mr. Hill, do you ride horses?”
    “I have in the past, as a youngster,” I replied. “One of our neighbors in Washburn, North Dakota, had a Shetland pony.”
    She smiled slightly, as if trying to determine whether I was kidding or being serious.
    Quickly I added, “Some of my friends had horses on a ranch near my home and I was allowed to ride every so often. A local rodeo cowboy used to give me lessons.”
    There was a pause, and then she said, “The reason I ask is that we have arranged to have a place in Middleburg to spend weekends away from Washington, and I’ll have horses there. I love to ride.”
    I wondered why they would need a place in Middleburg, Virginia, when the Kennedys would have the use of Camp David—a magnificent property specifically retained as a weekend retreat for the sitting president and his family. I had been there many times with President Eisenhower.
    It certainly wasn’t my place to advise the future first lady, but the knowledge that the Kennedys had obtained their own weekend retreat was a surprise to me, and I was quite certain that no one else in the Secret Service knew about it, either. I thought I had better try to get as much information as possible so I could pass it along to my supervisors.
    “Middleburg is beautiful,” I answered. “How