h-l-v-kennedy-blog

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jfk/jackie interview, 1958

found a rare interview featuring jackie and jfk that was recorded during their trip to oregon in 1958.

two interesting things to note:

jfk laughing when jackie says she has no ambition to visit russia then backtracks if she should've said that out loud lol

the interviewer implying jfk's prospective presidency 2 years before he announced his candidacy

here's the link if anyone wants to read the transcript/hear it in better quality (i had to compress it for tumblr):

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Phone sex with Bobby >

he’s such a freak he’d be palming himself in telephone booths listening to you from halfway across the country

and he does not gaf even if he’s exhausted he’s still gonna reach for that bedside table phone the second he’s retired to his hotel room for the night and dial your number while his eyes can barely stay open and as soon as you pick up: make those pretty noises again for me, hm? lemme hear you

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found this picture of bobby during the indiana primary, and does it look like to anyone that bobby has a cut on his lip or is it just an error of the photo?

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"reblog to give the person you reblogged this from a strong motivation to write fanfics" actually it's comment nice things on your favorite authors' fics to give them each a strong motivation to write fanfics

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Jack and Jackie

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i’m watching jack’s reading out loud from the 1960 campaign… and it’s almost heartbreaking to sit through because he should’ve been a teacher!!! look how excited he is to be talking and reading about history and abe lincoln!!!! how attentive he is to each question the kids ask!!!! he doesn’t let a single raised hand go unnoticed!!!! they made this man president and a legend when he would’ve preferred to have been a man and like maybe a high school history teacher!!!!

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this pic is crazy; jack is blurrier, cast in the shade, fragments of himself pulled at every which way. bobby, on the other hand, looks focused, steadier, more tangible to access, as the light shines overhead.

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at the Hyannis Port compound in 1946

“Bobby turned to me and said very quietly and sort of in a shy way, ‘How is my brother going to do in Charlestown?’ I explained to Bobby that the people of Charlestown really admired his brother. They admire courage in Charlestown. It is a working town and they admire courage along the docks and shipyards of Charlestown, so I told him I thought his brother would do all right there. Bob looked over at me with that mixture of shyness and youth and said, ‘My brother has more courage than anyone I have ever met.’” As they stood in the tiny living room waiting for Jack to finish dressing, Dave [Powers] was struck by the twenty-year-old's sincerity. “Bobby was so certain and so admiring of his older brother that I realized for the first time that there was a special bond here between the brothers.”

─ A Common Good by Helen O'Donnell

looks back the house election in 1946

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jack kennedy who never had to live in a world without his older brother, losing him in one brutal punch of an instant and never getting to say goodbye. then keeping an older bobby at a distance, more than he’d ever done in the past, seeming almost purposeful, for a long time until joe sr. forced them onto a trip together.

all of a sudden, jack had no choice but to hear his little brother’s shockingly astute insights, his dry wit - which had jack doing a double take with how similar it was to joe jr’s, only difference being that bobby’s sounded a lot more self-deprecating in nature. that serious face of his was etched onto his skin forever, no doubt about that, but there’d been a moment on the trip when that intensity quieted down to a hum. it happened when jack got sick on the trip, violently, feverishly sick. unanticipatedly so.

death had visited jack’s doorstep more often than most; over time, he had developed a sixth sense of sorts that never failed him even past his delirium, of knowing when death lingered nearby - the nurses and their barely-concealed panic, the doting pity, the clattering of nerves, the weary sighs. nothing new. even as he sweated through the sheets, he sensed the shift in the room instantly and the tell-tale signs that followed. a priest was summoned. last rites were murmured at the edge of his bed. everything was quiet except the pounding in his chest. even when he wasn’t sick, he always heard that same godforsaken pounding in his dreams. the pounding in his chest that reminded him that the noise, the beat after beat after beat, could stop at any moment. he wanted it to stop, for the sake of his sanity more than anything, but then the reminder of what that truly entailed would always snap him into high alert. these thoughts, uncontrollable and unshakeable, drove him mad at times, always worsened his delirium. he tried not to delve too deep into that sort of thinking, no use in it at all, but the sight of the priest had really done him in. as the nurses moved around in a hectic rotation, jack attempted to steady his own breathing, but to no avail. that’s when bobby stepped in.

he entered the room calmly, steadily, so unlike his usually impatient footsteps, as if yet another sibling wasn’t one cough away from death. he began murmuring assurances here and there, touching shoulders, nodding politely at the priest and thanking him for his service, slowly mellowing out the stifled room. such simple details in the grand scheme of things, but there was something to that. jack had expected something else - a big show, an impetuous jab perhaps - joe jr kept appearing in and out of his fever-induced dreams - barking orders, the way their father did, something of the like. truth was, he hadn’t expected bobby at all. he hadn’t expected bobby to sit at the edge of his bed, right on top of the covers. he beckoned a nurse over and whispered something in her ear, her response was long and furtive, but it made bobby smile for some reason. been worse, always comes through. tough as nails, he is, were the only words jack managed to catch. and the rasp of his voice, low and even, settled the entire room, settled everyone, including jack. bobby’s presence had steadied him. there was a moment during the worst of it, jack half out of it and moaning, when bobby rushed over and tried to give him some water to help alleviate the discomfort. an incoherent jack, bleary-eyed and dazed, but still conscious enough to refuse to be babied by his little brother, shook his head stubbornly, and left bobby with no choice but to practically force the water down his throat. c’mon, jack, you can keep coping heroically all you want, just chug the damn thing. he said it so seriously, a worried wrinkle creasing in between his brows, that jack, semi-conscious, stifled a weak laugh. a few drops of water dribbled down his chin before bobby cursed and reached for a rag, wiping him clean with the focus of a damn mother much to jack’s groaned protests.

and jack felt it then, through the damp haze of sickness - the odd, disarming sense of being taken care of like this by family, for the first time ever. not managed, not placated, not tolerated, or tossed into a room to be forgotten and taken care of clinically by strangers, but watched over without an ounce of shame or awareness of themselves. this was the first time a brother had gone out of his way to be kind to him, to jump into the deep end and tend to the gaping wound with something akin to devotion. straight from the bone, pure instinct. they never mentioned it again, one of those things men tuck into the back of their minds to save face, but they didn’t have to utter a word about it anyway. jack never forgot it.

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RFK and JFK, 1960.

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RUNNING FOR SENATE.

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“bobby at election party fundraising”

my negative slides, scanned into B&W pics

rare never published photos bought on eBay

all rights reserved / soundzen@2016

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Bobby Kennedy with a cigar

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 Robert and Ethel Kennedy, and Jacqueline Kennedy, with General Maxwell and Lydia Taylor at Hyannis Airport in July 1964

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1968, Joan campaigning with Bobby in Hammond

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