by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
The 112th Congress of these United States has convened, and for the first time since 1947 there will be no member of the Kennedy family serving in either the White House, Senate, or House of Representatives. It is, verily, the end of an era.
As a resident of Cambridge, Massachusetts and keen observer of the clan, I thought it only fit and proper to offer certain obsequies upon this notable event. For make no mistake obsequies and not merely observations are in order.
Ambassador and Mrs. Joseph P. Kennedy invite you...
The key person in my remarks, the individual most responsible not merely for launching the dynasty but for sustaining it through three generations was Joseph P. Kennedy, a living, breathing, calculating, mesmerizing, Patriarch if ever there was one.
A "mick on the make", disdained by Boston's Brahmins, he seized life with both hands... always with an eye for the main chance and, of course, for the ladies, most notoriously film siren Gloria Swanson. In today's argot, Joe Kennedy was super sized.
He liked money and made so much of it that he quickly became one of the wealthiest men in the nation. He made his piles in banking, (illegal) liquor, and films. But money, even lots of money, was never the objective. Joe had bigger fish to fry.
Like so many of the very rich, he felt sure that, with money no object, he was entitled to the kind of deference (and power) that only comes from high public office. He thought, as so many of these folk think, of what he would say to the world on a frosty January 20th on Pennsylvania Avenue with his hand upon the family bible.
But another Harvard grad, suave, charming, determined and much cleverer than Joe got in the way
Franklin D. Roosevelt was everything that Joe Kennedy yearned to be. Joe Kennedy was a Harvard grad but Franklin was Porcellian Club, old money, Social Register, Harvard by birth, not application.
Roosevelt didn't like, couldn't be expected to like Joe Kennedy... but he, puckishly, found uses for him as chairman of the Securities Exchange Commission, then head of the U.S. Maritime Commission. Joe Kennedy knew Wall Street and its shenanigans inside and out. Roosevelt sent him to clean up the mess. Joe Kennedy knew a thing or two about smuggling. Roosevelt put that to work,too, cleaning up the high seas.
And then Roosevelt, with high glee, sent boisterous, bumptious Kennedy to London as Ambassador to what status seeking Americans like to call the Court of St. James. Franklin, who had a long-term objective of weakening the empire on which the sun never set, by this appointment showed them what he thought of their regal superiorities and declining power. Joe would irritate, affront and insult them... and so he did. Roosevelt couldn't have liked it more. Joe's career in government and chances for advancement ended in the splendour of the American embassy in Grosvenor Square amidst predictions of Nazi victory in World War II.
But Joe had sons...
Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. born 1915.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy born 1917.
Robert Francis Kennedy born 1925.
Edward Moore Kennedy born 1932.
"The Ambassador" was determined that they, unlike Roosevelt's disappointing brood, should soar. Thwarted himself, he turned himself into teacher, mentor, coach, goad, a man determined that they should go forth and conquer, whether they liked it or not. And because his excellency had learned the drawbacks of serving at the pleasure of a president, he determined, first of all, that they should be elected by the people for the people, and always of course for -- Joe.
The heir is dead, long live the heir
Then, in August, 1944, tragedy struck as Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. died tragically whereupon the youthful John F. Kennedy, the next in line, at once discerned his father's full intentions.
Thus Joe determined that his often wayward son, already with a practiced eye for the ladies and dissipation, wade into the gritty infighting of Boston politics to run for the U.S. House of Representatives in 1946. Ambassador Joe let it be known that no failure would be tolerated and invested his dollars, and marketing sense, into ensuring success. JFK's Democratic opponents were, quite simply, unmercifully, outclassed.
No event showed that more the grand ball held down the street from where I'm writing in the Sheraton Hotel. Here the white-tied ambassador and his stately wife in jewels and haute couture held the Event of the Season, in honor of their son's candidacy. Everyone who was anyone in Cambridge and environs came -- and cast a grateful vote for the handsome young man who had done himself the favor to be born well. And so the Next Generation was well and truly launched with champagne and calculation.
The result was this: on the frosty inauguration day of January 20, 1961, an iconic photograph was snapped as the new President of the United States rode by the reviewing stand where his father watched that this oh-so-satisfying procession. The President half rose from his limousine and tipped his topper to his father, who graciously rose and tipped his in return. You didn't have to be Freud to understand that moment.
Joe was active, vital, and always directive in those days, with a son in the White House, another as Attorney General of the United States, and a third (no matter how unqualified) in the United States Senate. It was unprecedented...it was thrilling... it was painfully short-lived, as one tragedy followed another, not the least of which was that the Ambassador's talented hand was off the throttle. Though he had taught his progeny well... it was not remotely the same when he, dynast, patriarch,strategist and financial underwriter par excellence was gone (November, 1969).
Of course, there was Edward Moore Kennedy, matured from a political joke into what courtiers called the Last Lion. But he, too, succumbed (August, 2009) and the Kennedy legacy descended to the lion's whelp, U.S. Representative Patrick Kennedy of Rhode Island.
He gave it 16 years, but it was obvious, with his painful addictions and embarrassing public incidents, that his heart wasn't in it, that he had demons to wrestle.
"The Ambassador", of course, would have taken this unlikely clay and with practiced hand turned into something formidable. He had, after all, done it before. Patrick, however, wanted none of it and while grandpa's unsettled ghost writhed,made the decision to vacate Congress, lay down the burden of history and seek everyman's peace and comfort.
There may be future Kennedy's in Congress; after all, their dream will never die. But the dynasty died when abdicating Prince Patrick chose oblivion... and so the new Congress opened with memories, memories which are already fading.
About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., where small and home-based businesses learn how to profit online. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author's permission by Lawrence Rinke http://ActionEqualsProfit.com.
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