His Way_ The Unauthorized Biography of Frank Sinatra - Kitty Kelley [161]
From the beginning, Giancana knew of Frank’s commitment to the presidential campaign of John F. Kennedy, beginning with a series of meetings held at the Lawfords’ during 1959 to try to build a broad base of support for Kennedy throughout California.
“I was at some of those meetings,” said former congressman Tom Rees. “Frank was there and quite a few other show business people. There was internecine warfare going on in the state in terms of what were we going to do: Would we come up with a favorite son? What about people such as Adlai Stevenson and the others? Should we file a separate Kennedy slate?”
Always a strong Democrat, Frank had idolized Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1944 and contributed five thousand dollars to his campaign. He had supported Harry Truman in 1948 and had sung for Adlai Stevenson in 1952 and 1956, but this time he was personally committed to the candidate in a way he had never been before. Jack Kennedy—young, brilliant, rich, and handsome—was an extraordinary man from an Irish-American dynasty, and his impact on Frank was remarkable. In turn, Jack Kennedy enjoyed his glamorous Hollywood romps with Sinatra, who personified the sleek, swinging, emancipated male who can do anything he wants and never pay the consequences.
“Let’s just say that the Kennedys are interested in the lively arts and that Sinatra is the liveliest art of all,” said Peter Lawford at the time.
“His [Kennedy’s] fondness for Frank was simply based on the fact that Sinatra told him a lot of inside gossip about celebrities and their romances in Hollywood,” said Dave Powers, Kennedy’s closest aide. “We stayed with Frank in Palm Springs one night in November 1959 after a big fundraiser in Los Angeles. You could tell when Sinatra got up in the morning because suddenly music filled the house, even the bathrooms. Frank was a terrific host, and we had a great time. When we left, he gave me, not Jack, a box of jewelry to give my wife to make amends for keeping us the two extra days.”
George Jacobs, Frank’s valet, a black man, served Kennedy what he called the house special. “With Frank, it’s spaghetti for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” he said. “I was serving him by the pool, and Frank told JFK to ask me about my stand on civil rights. I didn’t like niggers and I told him so. They make too much noise, I said. The Mexicans smell, and I can’t stand them either. Kennedy fell in the pool, he laughed so hard.”
On the eve of the New Hampshire primary, Kennedy flew to Las Vegas to watch the summit meeting staged at the Sands by the Rat Pack during the filming of Ocean’s Eleven, which was a lighthearted tale of the mob and their casinos. Frank introduced Jack to the audience as Dean lurched from the wings. “What did you say his name was?” asked Martin. Kennedy laughed along with everyone else as Martin and Sinatra, whom Joey Bishop introduced as “the Italian book-ends,” wheeled their bottle-bedecked “breakfast” bar onstage to choose a suitable juice while Joey whispered to the audience, “Well, here they are folks—Haig and Vague. … In a few minutes they’ll start telling you about some of the good work the Mafia is doing.”
Minutes later Sammy Davis, Jr., flew out to smash a cake in Bishop’s face, and then Dean staggered out, picked up Sammy, and handed him to Frank, saying, “This is an award that just arrived for you from the NAACP.” Later, while Dean was singing, Lawford and Bishop strolled across the stage in their shorts and tuxedo jackets. Jack Kennedy enjoyed the impromptu japes and boys-only bonhomie.
Fascinated by the spellbinding power of great screen personalities, Kennedy gravitated to the Rat Pack, which Frank renamed the “Jack Pack” in his honor. His interest in Hollywood came in