[REPLAY] #13: I Could Stay Here Forever - AKA JFK, Part IX

This is a replay of Episode 13, originally posted on August 30, 2021. While it was originally used as a story of establishing Arlington National Cemetery, it also fits well as the conclusion of the JFK story arc.

This week’s Ghost of Arlington are, once again:

1. President John F. Kennedy (Section 45, Grave S-45)
2. Jacquelin Kennedy Onassis (Section 45, Grave S-45)
3.  Senator Robert F. Kennedy (Section 45, Grave S-45-A)
4. Arabella Kennedy (Section 45, Grave S-45)
5. Patrick Kennedy (Section 45, Grave S-45)

Transcript

SPEAKER_02 0:00

Before we begin today, I just wanted to put out a reminder that this episode originally aired on August 30th, 2021, but as I have finally gotten around to telling the story of JFK in World War II, that it seems fitting to reshare the story of his funeral and uh the stories of a few people that were involved in it. So if some of this sounds familiar, that's why. If you don't feel like listening to it again, that's fine. Go ahead and skip it, and we will see you next time. And I say next time, and not next week, because I had a few episodes in the can, but I was out of town last week and have not had a chance to get caught up again on my writing and recording. So I'm gonna need a little bit of time to do that, probably just one week off, potentially two. But I also want to say that I do have some other events that are coming up. My younger son is getting ready to graduate from high school, and I am going to have a work trip that is going to take me away from home for about a week or so. Both of those are gonna happen within the next month or two, so it may be some sporadic posting between now and then, and I hope to get back onto a regular schedule, but as you know, this is a completely unsponsored podcast, just a labor of love, and when life gets in the way, I'm gonna choose life over this, so uh with that said, enjoy a repeat of episode thirteen, I could stay here forever. Welcome, and thank you for joining me for Ghosts of Arlington, episode thirteen, I could stay here forever. The United States also established a policy that it would no longer leave fallen service members in U.S. maintained foreign cemeteries. From here on out, all those killed in action would be repatriated. In the book that has greatly shaped the first several episodes of this podcast, On Hollowed Ground, the story of Arlington National Cemetery, Robert Poole divides the history of the cemetery into three eras Disunion, Reunion, and the Nation's Cemetery. Today we begin the third and final phase of Arlington's evolution. On march third, nineteen sixty three, just after four thirty in the afternoon as the day's crowd began to drift away from the cemetery, a young National Park Service ranger named Paul Fuqua stepped out of the Lee Mansion and nearly ran into the most recognizable face in America. Mind if we look around? asked President John F. Kennedy. And thus began Kennedy's first and only tour of the Lee Mansion. Fuqua later recalled that the president, a history buff himself, was already familiar with many aspects of the mansion and Montgomery Megs, and was quite conversant about it all. When they stepped out the front door and peered down at the memorial bridge and the Lincoln Memorial beyond it, the park ranger, the president, and his entourage, stood there in silence taking in the view. Fuqua recalled that Kennedy broke the silence with a prophetic utterance. I could stay here forever. Of course, no one knew how prophetic it was at the time. Soon thereafter, a limousine pulled up, the president gave his thanks, and drove away. Eight months later, on Friday, November 22nd, 1963, JFK was dead, killed by an assassin in Dallas, Texas.

SPEAKER_00 4:49

Something has happened in the motor cave room. Something I think had happened in the motor cave root. Something has happened in the motor cave room.

SPEAKER_01 5:12

From Dallas, Texas, a flash, apparently official, President Kennedy died at 1 p.m. Central Standard Time. Two o'clock Eastern Standard Time. Some 38 minutes ago. Vice President Johnson has left the hospital in uh Dallas, but we do not know uh to where he has proceeded. Presumably he will be taking the oath of office shortly and become uh the 36th president of the United States.

SPEAKER_02 5:47

The untimely death of a young, healthy, and energetic president left the White House reeling and scrambling to arrange a state funeral. Initially, it was assumed that Kennedy would return to Boston. He had said as much during the tour of the Lee Mansion when the conversation naturally turned to the topic. There was a minority opinion within Kennedy's inner circle that thought Arlington would be a better choice. Kennedy's Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara gets the credit for voicing that opinion first, but after he did, all members of the inner circle without ties to Boston latched onto it. The next day, Saturday, november twenty third, fully expecting the family to go the Boston route, John Metzler, the cemetery superintendent, still did his due diligence and scouted potential burial sites at the cemetery for the late president. Metzler landed on what he thought would be the perfect spot, but also selected two others so the families would have options if they did choose Arlington. The first two spots had navy ties to honor JFK's World War II service. One on the southern edge of the cemetery near the grave of Admiral Robert E. Perry, the Arctic Explorer, and the other west of the amphitheater near the USS Main Memorial. The final spot, the perfect spot, was just down the hill from the Lee Mansion, with a view of the memorial bridge and all of Washington. The same view Kennedy had not wanted to leave just a few months before. Superintendent Metzler's due diligence paid off as less than an hour later he received a phone call saying the president's brother Bobby was en route to the cemetery with his sisters Eunice Shriver and Patricia Lawford, Secretary McNamara, and a contingent of aides. The superintendent drove the group to the three sites in a downpour. After seeing all three, they backtracked to the base of the hill for a second look at that site, walked around in the rain, took in the view, and left without a word. Back at the White House, Bobby Eunice and Patricia gave their grieving sister-in-law Jackie a positive report about the Arlington site. The former First Lady, whose sense of the historic moment was stronger than any tribal ties to Boston, felt inclined towards a burial at Arlington so that her late husband would quote belong to the nation. But she wanted to see the site herself. The group and their retinue returned to the cemetery later that afternoon. Mrs. Kennedy was driven to the spot below the Lee Mansion, separated from the group, stood in silent reflection for about fifteen minutes, and without a word, nodded her head in assent. A family friend in the group with a good eye for proportions climbed the soggy hill, looked down on the site, and pointed to the exact spot where the grave should go. The family then watched as Metzler put a stake in the designated location, and the family left, telling him to prepare for a Monday funeral. I can only imagine the absolute panic that went through Metzler's mind at that time. Here it is almost four PM on Saturday, and you have maybe thirty six hours to prepare for a funeral the entire world will be watching. He made plans to call in workers at first light the next day. A thick layer of fallen leaves had to be cleared from the burial site, security cordons laid out, mats spread over the wet earth, a press stand erected, and a presidential grave dug. As the cemetery employees got to work the next morning, McNamara returned with a crew of engineers to officially survey the six hundred square foot plot. It turned out that the stake Metzler put in the ground the day before was only six inches off from the axis running from the Lee Mansion to the Lincoln Memorial. The stake was adjusted and twelve granite posts were set to establish the grave's boundaries. While the burial site was being prepared, the other funeral details fell into place. Since returning from Dallas, the president's remains had laid in the White House. The plan was to move him to the Capitol building on Sunday where he would lay in state until the next day. On Monday, he would return to the White House for a brief ceremony before traveling to St. Matthew's Cathedral for a Requiem Mass. Then would come the traditional journey through the streets of Washington, D.C., past the Lincoln Memorial, across the Memorial Bridge, and up the hill to Arlington. For each step of his journey, President Kennedy would be moved by one of the vintage World War I caissons preserved for full honors ceremonies at Arlington. Stationed at Fort Meyer, the U.S. Army 3rd Infantry Regiment, also known as the Old Guard, the same unit that provides the Sentinels for the Tomb of the Unknowns, operates the caissons and maintains stables for some forty horses used for funeral duties. The Saturday before the funeral, Mrs. Kennedy decided to use gray horses instead of black ones during the ceremony. That decision set Sergeant Tom Setterberg and the rest of the old guard caisson platoon into action, frantically preparing for Monday. The soldiers pressed their dress uniforms, cleaned tack, polished brass, picked hooves, and prepared to lead their commander in chief on one final ride. Setterberg, the designated leader of the Quezon detail for the funeral, would ride Big Boy, a massive grey gelding who would walk unattached in front of the Quezon and guide the other six horses from the comfortable grounds of Arlington into the unfamiliar capital, where, gathering crowds, snapping flags, and flashing cameras threatened to spook the animals. The Quezon would be followed by Blackjack, a spirited black gilding designated as the riderless horse. Named for the famed World War I general, he was set up with a saddle, outfitted with reverse boots and the stirrups, a traditional symbol for a departing warrior facing no more battles. Blackjack, who could be as stubborn as his namesake, gained his own degree of fame during the funeral dancing across millions of television screens at times barely under control. Mrs. Kennedy had requested as plain a funeral as possible for someone of her husband's rank, but it soon took on a life of its own, as VIPs from all over the world came to pay their respects. Seating charts had to be reworked and fresh elements were cranked into the ceremony. Prince Philip came from Great Britain representing his wife, Queen Elizabeth II. Emperor Holly Selisi flew in from Ethiopia, General Charles de Gaulle from France, President IM de Valera from Ireland, King Bauden from Belgium, as well as scores of other leaders each expecting a suitable place in the proceedings. Former Presidents Harry Truman and Dwight Eisenhower wanted to attend, and Bobby Kennedy, remembering his brother's fondness for green berets, brought up a group from Fort Bragg to march alongside the Quisson. A fife and drum corps was added, as were several bagpipers, some civilian, some military. When all was said and done, the funeral was anything but simple. This made for TV event had thousands of participants and hundreds of behind the scenes planners. Knowing that the world would be watching, no group strove harder for perfection than the old guard. They practiced precision rifle volleys, folded flags until they could do it in their sleep, and marched until they moved as a single entity. The Old Guard not only provided the case on and horses for Kennedy's funeral, but also an honor guard to watch over the president's casket twenty four hours a day until the funeral, helped form security cordons during the funeral procession, and assigned one of its most promising young officers to oversee the Joint Services Casket Detail, Army First Lieutenant Samuel Byrd. On Sunday, arriving for rituals on Capitol Hill, some members of Lieutenant Byrd's detail faced the long flight of stairs to the Rotunda with foreboding. Thirty six shallow steps led from the Capitol Plaza to the Rotunda entrance. A stand of television cameras sat atop the stairs, and the Kennedy family filed in at the bottom, with Byrd's casket team in between. The whole world would be watching the nine men assigned to carry the mahogany casket that weighed thirteen hundred pounds. One member of the team made up of three soldiers, two marines, two sailors, one airman, and one Coast Guardsman, Army specialist Douglas Mayfield later recalled, I remember looking at the steep incline and thinking it looked more like a wall than steps. With Lieutenant Byrd hovering behind, the team eased Kennedy from the caisson and slowly began its ascent. As the casket detailed did so, Byrd sensed they were having trouble balancing the load. He slipped in behind the team and lifted the casket from the back corner to relieve the strain which gave the pallbearers a boost up the stairs. They struggled to keep the casket level and they struggled to make it look like they were not struggling. Those on the lower end had to hoist the casket high at shoulder level, while those in front tried to maintain a grip at waist level. With Bird close behind watching for any sign of slippage, the casket bearers inched up the stairs, followed by Mrs. Kennedy and her two children, Caroline and John Jr. Down on the plaza, just as the Coast Guard band played the final strain of the hymn Eternal Father Strong to Save, the casket detail reached the top, moved into the rotunda, and placed Kennedy on President Lincoln's Catafalque. Mrs. Kennedy, dressed in black with a long veil, knelt before the casket, stretched out one hand and touched the box. She leaned in to kiss the flag, rose to her feet, and left. Across the river at Arlington, soldiers and civilians prepared for the next day's internment. Superintendent Metzler summoned Clifton Pullard, his best grave digger to work that day. He apologized for bringing him in on a Sunday, but Pullard said it was his honor to be there. Shortly after Metzler became superintendent, he moved Arlington into the automated age, replacing gravedigging shovels that had been used since the time of James Parks with machines. It took a digger with a shovel most of a day to prepare a proper gravesite. It took Pollard fifteen minutes with a backhoe. The grave was easy. The next feature at the site was not. Mrs. Kennedy had requested an eternal flame installed at her husband's grave like the one she had seen at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris when she and JFK had visited France's unknown soldier memorial two years earlier. This request that wasn't really a request, was delivered at 3 PM on Sunday. Metzler had less than twenty four hours to figure out how to design, construct, install, and test the device so Mrs. Kennedy could light it at the funeral. Worried that the flame would fail to light or even worse, explode, he informed the White House that this task was beyond his ability. Their response was yes, we completely understand. Do it anyway. His next phone call was to Fort Myers chief engineer who thought he could build it, and then he called every gas supply company in Virginia and Maryland to try to get the needed materials. But unsurprisingly, none of these companies were answering their phones on a late Sunday afternoon. Finally, a company in Rockville, Maryland answered the call and soon everything that was needed for a simple temporary flame was on its way to the cemetery. Until something permanent and more aesthetically pleasing could be built, the engineers were able to design a temporary flame consisting of one tank of gas, copper tubing, a Hawaiian luau torch, and a makeshift metal basket to keep the flame eighteen inches off the ground. Workers at Arlington dug a trench for the gas line while engineers welded the metal basket and joined it with the torch. The gas tank, hidden in a thicket of bamboo near the Lee mansion, would be operated by an army sergeant, ready to open the valve on a signal from the gravesite. With everything in place, the flame was ready for a test run. The sergeant turned the tap. Gas hissed from the valve by the president's grave. A burst of light flared on the dark hillside. The eternal flame was up and running by midnight. As the gravesite was prepared, the old guard continued to work. After dinner, the joint service casket team was summoned by Lieutenant Byrd and practiced folding flags, the traditional slow movements that transformed the American flag into a blue triangle with white stars for hours. One member of the team later said they spent so much time on such a seemingly simple task that because if just one member falters or the team's timing is off, the flag could be dropped, red and white stripes could be other than straight, and red could be showing in the triangular fold where only blue and white stars should be. We knew that we would be scrutinized by millions of viewers and we wanted to give the impression that operating in unison was second nature to us even though we had just met. At midnight, they moved to the memorial amphitheater to practice carrying a weighted casket up and down those long shallow stairs. Byrd wanted to simulate what would be the team's most daunting task the next day, bringing President Kennedy out of the rotunda and down the Capitol steps without slipping. Back in Washington, crowds filled the rotunda late into Sunday night, wanting to pay their respects to the fallen young president. Neil Stabler, a U.S. representative from Michigan, arrived at eight PM and was surprised to find mourners patiently waiting to get in, lined four abreast, stretching for ten blocks. When he returned several hours later, he expected the cold November evening to have thinned out the line, but it was even longer, now twelve abreast, stretching for fifteen blocks. The multitude was still there Monday morning when the rotunda doors were closed at nine AM, leaving twelve thousand mourners outside still waiting for a glimpse of Kennedy. An estimated two hundred fifty thousand people passed through the rotunda in twenty four hours. The crowd outside remained so large that it blocked traffic, and when Bird and the bleary eyed casket team came to carry out their solemn duty, their bus got stuck and they had to cover the last quarter mile on foot. They arrived in time, and as they huddled in the rotunda shadows, waiting for their next time in the spotlight, Lieutenant Byrd prayed aloud. Dear God, give us the strength to do this last thing for the president. He opened his eyes, checked his watch, and it was time. The team collected Kennedy's casket and moved to the formidable Capitol Stairs. As the Coast Guard band struck up the hymn, O God of Loveliness, they began to descend. Unlike he had the previous day when ascending the stairs, Byrd could not help with the descent, but the team made it down to the plaza without a hint of trouble, keeping the casket level and making it look effortless. One of them later said it had seemed like a magic carpet ride. For the first time ever the entire country watched a presidential funeral live, with the flag draped casket slowly moving through the streets toward St. Matthew's for the Requiem Mass. The entire world saw Mrs. Kennedy standing tall and perfectly composed, mourning her husband with stoic grace. As the mass led out, all eyes turned to three year old John, who snapped off the famous salute to his father. As the funeral cortege inched towards Arlington, taking forty five minutes to travel the three miles from the cathedral, nervous secret service agents swept the gravesite for bombs. One agent climbed into the open grave and had to be pulled out. Others examined each and every floral arrangement looking for booby traps, and all eyed the eternal flame with suspicion, only allowing it after the army drenched the pine boughs around the basket with two buckets of water. Army Sergeant William Malcolm, the non commissioned officer in charge of the seven man rifle team that would give Kennedy his twenty one gun salute, watched from the hillside as the mass of people approached the cemetery. He said I was shaking with fright, the way I shook when I came for my first funeral here. I have attended some four thousand funerals since. I had not been frightened since my first funeral, but I was with this one. Another soldier feeling stage fright was Army Sergeant Keith Clark, the bugler who would be playing taps. He had been standing near the gravesite for nearly three hours just waiting and feeling the cold seep into his bones. At precisely 242 PM the Quezon rolled to a halt in the cemetery. Lieutenant Bird and his casket team moved the president to the gravesite as squadrons of F 105 fighter jets streaked overhead in missing man formation, followed by a low flying Air Force one which dipped its wings in a final salute. The firing party, stiffened by Sergeant Malcolm's command, raised their rifles in one fluid movement and snapped off a perfect three round volley. Next, Sergeant Clark stood at attention, pointed his bugle toward Kennedy's grave, and began to sound taps. The song rang true until the sixth note which broke horribly. Some thought the broken note had been intentional to emphasize the distress the nation felt, but it was not. Clark later said the pressure got to him and he missed the note, partly because his lips were numb and partly because he had been deafened by the firing party which had been uncharacteristically and unwisely placed directly behind him instead of off to the side to give TV cameras a better view. Despite the cracked note, Clark finished strong, with the final haunting notes lingering over the cemetery. After a long moment of silence, the Marine band struck up the navy hymn, the signal for Byrd's crew to fold the flag. Without a wrinkle, the flag smoothly transformed into a blue triangle and was handed to Superintendent Metzler, who held it as Cardinal Cushing blessed the eternal flame. Following the blessing, Mrs. Kennedy stepped forward to accept the flag from Metzler, who offered it saying, Mrs. Kennedy, this flag is presented to you in the name of a most mournful nation. He felt a catch in his throat but managed to finish with please accept it. She took the enzyme, her eyes filling with tears behind a black veil. She did not speak, Metzler said. I do not believe that she could at that moment. Army Major Stanley Converse stepped forward with a lighted taper, which he handed to Mrs. Kennedy, admitting this is the saddest moment of my life. She touched the taper to the torch and ignited the eternal flame. Just like that, there was nothing left to do. Metzler led Mrs. Kennedy and the rest of the family to their cars, which departed in the late afternoon light. Other dignitaries milled around the cemetery, reluctant to leave. One special forces first sergeant stood quietly at the grave, removed his green beret, and placed it on the frame of the eternal flame. After that, others followed suit, spontaneously leaving hats and medals by the grave. In the fading sunlight, after the crowds had finally left, Metzler watched his ground crew lower the president into the earth, seal his vault, and cover it with the good earth of Arlington. The men erected a white picket fence around the plot to keep visitors from trampling it, heaped the ground with piles of flowers from well wishers, tidied up the area, latched the gate, and called it a day. Our task of burying the president was finished, said Metzler, who retired to his home in the cemetery that night with no idea of the profound change the president's death was about to visit upon Arlington. Before Kennedy's funeral, Arlington averaged two million visitors a year. In the year following the funeral, that number jumped to seven million. In nineteen sixty four, three thousand people an hour came to pay their respects, queuing in lines that stretched all the way to the Lee Mansion. On the weekends the crowd swelled to fifty thousand a day. One visitor, hoping to sprinkle some holy water on the eternal flame, watched in horror as the cat flew off her container and the water extinguished the fire. A soldier from the old guard standing nearby whipped out a zippo lighter, relit the torch, and reassured the distraught visitor. There, ma'am, he said, I won't tell if you won't tell. JFK helped put Arlington on the map once again, transforming the place as other events of the past had, like Robert E Lee's departure in eighteen sixty one, the establishment of the Freedmen's Village in 1863, the creation of the National Cemetery in eighteen sixty four, the first decoration day in eighteen sixty eight, the return of the dead from the Spanish American War in eighteen ninety nine, and the entombment of unknown soldiers in nineteen twenty one and nineteen fifty eight. After President Kennedy joined the ranks there, nothing would be the same. Needing a better way to organize the increased foot traffic, the Kennedy family and the cemetery began working on a new gravesite soon after the funeral. A new parcel was designated just down the hill from the original plot. The new site maintained the view the president had so admired and incorporated a terrace carved from the hillside with curving walkways and ample room for visitors. Excerpts from Kennedy's speeches were carved into low walls around the grave which also featured an improved eternal flame, one fed by a permanent natural gas line and equipped with a constantly renewed electrical spark to keep the fire burning through wind and rain. Work on the new site began in nineteen sixty five and was finished by nineteen sixty seven. The president was quietly exhumed after cemetery hours and installed in his new resting place, joined there by the two infant children he and Jackie had lost. His brother Robert, assassinated in nineteen sixty eight, would also come to rest on the terrace, his plot marked by a simple white cross. Just like the burials of Montgomery Meggs and other prominent Civil War generals had turned Arlington into a prestigious final resting place in the previous century, President Kennedy had renewed interest in the cemetery and the requests for burials increased from four thousand a year to seven thousand. This sudden increase meant that Arlington would be full by 1988 with no new space for burials unless the cemetery tightened burial restrictions. So after 1966, new internments were limited to those who had died on active duty, those who retired with a disability, those who retired with twenty years or more of service, or received high military honors, rules that still apply today. A columbarium was also built to hold cremated remains and preserve space for traditional in ground burials. The funeral of John F. Kennedy not only had a profound impact on the cemetery but also on many of those who participated in it. For Army Captain Michael Groves, the popular twenty seven year old commander of Fort Myers Honor Guard Company, the stress of planning and staffing the funeral was too great a burden. Ten days after the funeral, Groves, who had no signs of ill health, collapsed at his dinner table and died of a heart attack. The old guard, already saddened by the loss of a president, were shocked by the sudden loss of Captain Groves. We'd lost a popular president, said Private First Class William Morris, but Mike was one of us, a great leader and a friend to many in the company. With other members of the Old Guard, Morris pressed his best uniform, shined his medals, and solemnly carried his young captain to an early grave on a cold December day in Section thirty, grave eight ninety seven-lh. My favorite picture I've taken at Arlington is of Captain Grove's grave, and I will put it up on the website. I was also able to lay a wreath at his headstone in December 2018 as part of the Wreaths Across America program. Fittingly, from his grave, you can just make out President Kennedy's memorial. John Metzler Jr. was sixteen years old when he watched his father bury Kennedy as superintendent of Arlington. He says that moment reinforced his decision to join the Army and serve in Vietnam. When he returned from overseas, he took a job with the Veterans Administration and ultimately replaced his father as superintendent in 1991. In 1994, he oversaw the burial of Jacqueline Kennedy beside her husband. Never in a thousand years did I imagine that I would come back to finish what my father started in nineteen sixty three, he said. Finally, first Lieutenant Sam Byrd, who so ably headed the casket detail, was promoted to captain and sent to Vietnam, where he led a company through fierce fighting in nineteen sixty seven. While in a helicopter that came under heavy fire, Byrd was shot several times and had part of his skull shot away. Miraculously, he survived the wound and lived another seventeen years. He was greatly diminished but remained proud of the way his men had performed for President Kennedy. Next week we will talk about the unknown soldier from the Vietnam War who joined his honored comrades in 1984. Now, if you need more Ghosts of Arlington contact in your life, there are photographs and additional information about every episode on the show's website www.ghosts of Arlington Podcast.com. Ghosts of Arlington is also on Facebook and Twitter, and links to those sites are in the show notes. As always, I encourage you to leave the show a review and five star rating on iTunes or wherever you stream from as this helps other people find the show. If you really want to make my day, you can refer the podcast to a friend. And remember, fear not death, for the sooner we die, the longer we shall be immortal.