Jack Kennedy - Chris Matthews [142]
The Peace Corps—once an idea that seemed, spontaneously, to create itself—was now in the process of becoming a reality. Not sure exactly how the logistics of the visionary but also highly practical project might work, Kennedy put it in the hands of Sargent Shriver. As the founding director, Shriver got it off the ground, with the first volunteers overseas by the end of the year in countries such as Ghana and Tanganyika, Colombia and Ecuador. “The president is counting on you,” he told one early group on the eve of their departure. “It’s up to you to prove that the concepts and ideals of the American Revolution are still alive. Foreigners think we’re fat, dumb, and happy over here. They don’t think we’ve got the stuff to make personal sacrifices for our way of life. You must show them.”
But then, Washington bureaucratic jealousy threatened the enterprise. Shriver sought help from Vice President Johnson, named by JFK to chair the advisory council. “You put the Peace Corps into the Foreign Service,” he told Shriver, “and they’ll put striped pants on your people when all you’ll want them to have is a knapsack and a tool kit and a lot of imagination. And they’ll give you a hundred and one reasons why it won’t work every time you want to do something different. If you want the Peace Corps to work, friends, you’ll keep it away from the folks downtown who want it to be just another box in an organizational chart.”
Like a high priest in cowboy boots, Johnson knew the secrets of life and death in the capital. Thanks to him, the Peace Corps remained independent.
Having first talked about it when she entered the White House, Jackie Kennedy now wanted to start making good on her desire to redecorate the Executive Mansion. To help her, she asked her friend Rachel “Bunny” Mellon, married to the Pittsburgh banking heir and philanthropist Paul Mellon, whose high-patrician style she admired. According to Bunny, “When he became president, Jackie changed—she became just as royal as could be. She said, ‘Will you come now? Jack’s president. Will you come now and help me fix up this house? It’s terrible. And don’t call me “First Lady” ever, because I just work here. This is a job. I’ve got to do it for Jack.’ “
But in addition to her work with Jackie on the public and private rooms, Bunny Mellon made another singular and lasting contribution to the Kennedy-era White House. In this case, it was Jack himself who asked for her expert knowledge. Knowing her to be a celebrated garden designer and horticulturalist, he requested that she renovate the Rose Garden, which he could see from his Oval Office window and called “a mess.”
Established in 1913 by Mrs. Woodrow Wilson, it continues to this day to be the scene of ceremonial events. The layout Bunny Mellon created for JFK, often following his specific instructions, comprises the admired Rose Garden layout still seen today.
On April 12, 1961, the Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin orbited the earth. It was the first time in human history that man had gone beyond our planet’s atmosphere. Having beaten the United States into space with their first unmanned craft, the satellite Sputnik 1, back in 1957, the Russians once again had surpassed us. That first victory had come on President Eisenhower’s watch, but this one was on Kennedy’s.
But April, the “cruelest month,” held further setbacks, ones that would leave even more serious political scars. On April 17, more than 1,400 anti-Castro Cuban exiles—trained, equipped, transported, and given limited air cover by the CIA—landed on a Cuban beach bordering an inlet now known as the Bay of Pigs on the island’s south side. The disembarking Cubans had been assured by Agency officials they’d have full U.S. military support were they to encounter trouble on landing, but this turned out to be a false promise.
As Kennedy famously quoted at the time, “Victory has a hundred fathers; defeat is an orphan.” The best way to look back with full understanding at the debacle known as the “Bay of Pigs” is to get an idea of how it appeared