Authors often dream about writing acknowledgments—the pleasure that awaits the completion of an intense project. But never have I so looked forward to expressing my gratitude than in the case of this book. My debts to those who helped make it possible are legion. First thanks go to the extraordinary letter writers and their heirs who responded to requests for permission to publish with such heartwarming generosity. Their kindness, their memories of their loved ones, of President Kennedy, of their lives, and of the state of the country in 1963 inform every page of this book. In only a very few instances did those who were approached decline to give permission to publish. All had good reasons, which, of course, have been honored. But it is revealing that none of those reasons involved a change in the sentiment expressed in their, or their family member’s, letter. Thank you to one and all for making it possible to bring these letters to the public. The time the letter writers took to write to Jacqueline Kennedy not only reflects their personal thoughtfulness and generosity, it preserves for future generations an important part of our history.
My second debt of absolutely enormous proportions goes to the tireless, imaginative, dedicated, and oh so patient team of permissions researchers who found the letter writers—Mary Dalton Hoffman, Sarah Thorson Little, Ellen Lohman, Ann Louise Rossi, and Josh Sucher. Sarah Miller-Davenport’s excellent sleuthing through court records in Chicago at the eleventh hour made her an honorary member of the group. The willingness of all these individuals to undertake a seemingly impossible task made the book a reality. Without genealogist extraordinaire Sarah Thorson Little there would have been no Letters to Jackie. The fact that I found Sarah through letter writer Ann Lounsbery Owens only deepened the sense that we were all in it together—thank you, Ann. Mary Dalton Hoffman led us all with her amazingly cheerful and resolute determination to find the letter writers nearly a half century after they penned their messages. Her sense of humor, good judgment, and support kept me—and the whole permissions group—going on many occasions. I gratefully acknowledge as well the valuable assistance of the New England Historic Genealogical Society and genealogist Polly FitzGerald Kimmitt. The staff at the John F. Kennedy Library proved unfailingly helpful and gracious with my unceasing requests for assistance. Thank you to the Library’s director, Tom Putnam, for his early encouragement and to Chief Archivist Allan Goodrich for granting me access to unprocessed materials as well as sharing his knowledge of the collection and all things related to President Kennedy. Archivists Sharon Kelly, Stephen Plotkin, and Michael Desmond not only found all the material I was looking for, they kept this scholar steady company in the beautiful research room at the library overlooking Dorchester Bay during the time I spent there reading thousands of condolence letters. Laurie Austin’s assistance in locating photographs uncovered many of the wonderful images in the book. The dedication and professionalism of all made research at the John F. Kennedy Library a pleasure for this historian.
To Lauren Dinger, my devoted research assistant, and to Elizabeth Armstrong who recommended Lauren, my deep appreciation. Whether through photo research, tracking down citations, proofing letters, organizing thousands of archival documents, contacting letter writers, and an endless array of additional tasks, Lauren’s efforts shaped and enriched this study. I thank her for all that she did and for being so good-natured while she did it. Leslie Hendrickson and Kelly Gu did yeoman’s work early in the project that provided a solid footing for the book. Genevieve Smith contributed her superb fact-checking skills late in the process. I am very grateful for their efforts.
Bette White and Lynda Gaudiana undertook, with utter selflessness, the very difficult task of transcribing the letters. Their skill, interest in the letters and the writers, commitment, and unflagging support—all of it exceeding even the most capacious bounds of a nearly forty-year shared friendship—made it possible to complete the manuscript. It’s hard to imagine the book without them and without Russ’s good cheer as value added.
Nancy Tuckerman was very gracious about answering my questions. Her observations and memories added substance and texture to the story. I thank her very sincerely for her willingness to speak with me about the condolence letters.
Several historians provided excellent advice as I prepared this study. Robert Dallek offered encouragement at the start of the project. Robert Clark, supervising archivist at the Franklin D. Roosevelt Library, answered crucial questions. I benefited enormously from the comments on Kennedy, civil rights, and race offered by several outstanding scholars of African American and/or Southern history—Jacqueline Jones, J. William Harris, John Dittmer, Catherine Clinton, and Vanessa Northington Gamble. Bill Harris read not one but three drafts of some material, improving each one with his suggestions. Jim Lehrer offered valuable assistance as I explored events in Dallas.
Much of the work on this book was completed during the year I spent at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study. To the staff and fellows of the Institute, my very sincere thanks for your assistance, intellectual energy, and delightful company. To Judy Vichniac, director of the fellowship program, a special thanks for friendship, support, and generosity. Emma Rothschild’s encouragement also meant a great deal to me. The “book crisis group”—Judy Coffin, Susan Faludi, Willy Forbath, and Russ Rymer—made the year at Radcliffe so special. Our evenings together discussing our work combined fun—hilarity!—and great conversation about books and history. Thank you all for your friendship, and those memorable evenings. To Gail Mazur, brilliant poet and wordsmith, as well as dear friend, enduring gratitude for reading sections of the manuscript and offering so many superb insights and observations. Sara Rimer, Kit and Jane Reed, and Ellen Rothman urged me to undertake a history that might reach a wider public—I’m grateful for their frequent infusions of courage.
The entire Ecco group has earned my admiration as well as enormous gratitude for their commitment and incredible skill at every stage of the process. Thanks to Allison Saltzman, Rachel Bressler, Greg Mortimer, Michael McKenzie, Rebecca Urbelis, Mary Austin Speaker, John Jusino, Doug Jones, Carla Clifford, Kate Pereira, Jeanette Zwart, and the remarkably efficient and dedicated Abigail Holstein. Dan Halpern’s commitment to the project made it happen, as did, most of all, my editor, the amazing Lee Boudreaux. Lee somehow manages to improve a book with such a deft touch that the author hardly senses the transforming alterations! Her commitment to and enthusiasm for the book, as well as her graciousness, have sustained me. It’s been a pleasure to work with Lee and the Ecco staff.
At so many points along the way, this was a project that might not have been. But the person who opened the door and kept it ajar was Lindy Hess, who understood the idea, valued its purpose, and remained steadfast and enthusiastic as I carried out the project. Among her many selfless and generous acts was an introduction to Scott Moyers. Scott’s belief in the book, his wisdom, warmth, and brilliant advice shaped all that followed. Revan Miles helped me to understand better what I was reading in the condolence letters—a gift I can only acknowledge but never adequately describe.
My family and friends listened patiently as I made my way through these remarkable letters, and, along with Winslow, kept me company through the writing. (My mother and my sister Maureen also offered sage advice about the project.) I thank them for being by my side through this and all my other life adventures.