A First Look, and a Familiar Story

Sixty-three years ago, on March 27, 1963, President John F. Kennedy and First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy hosted a state dinner at the White House in honor of King Hassan II of Morocco. 

It was one of many moments that, at the time, simply belonged to the rhythm of a presidency, but in hindsight, it now feels preserved, almost suspended within a larger story.

More than sixty years later, the story of the Kennedys continues to unfold in unexpected ways.

Yesterday, I saw an article in Variety noting that Netflix released a first look at Michael Fassbender as Joseph P. Kennedy Sr. The image is recent, but the story it points to has been with me for years.

At first glance, it is just a still frame. Fassbender in formal dress, composed, watchful, standing just off camera. But for those of us who have spent time with this history, who have walked its places and sat with its memory, it feels like something more.

It feels like the beginning of a story returning to life.

The series promises to explore the Kennedy family beginning in the 1930s, the ambitions, rivalries, and forces that shaped not only a family, but an era. And at the center of it all stands Joe Kennedy Sr., a figure who is often discussed but rarely fully understood.

Casting Fassbender in that role is an intriguing choice. There is an intensity to him, a controlled presence, that suggests we may finally see a portrayal that captures both the ambition and the calculation that defined the Kennedy patriarch. I have seen him in other roles, including the title role in Macbeth (2015), so I know he will play the role superbly.

For me, this is not just another historical drama announcement.

The series will be based on JFK: Coming of Age in the American Century by Fredrik Logevall, which I already own. 

In fact, I have even bought copies for friends. It is not just a source behind the series. It is part of the foundation of how I have come to understand this story. To see that same work now being adapted into a major series adds a different kind of anticipation. It feels less like watching something new and more like seeing something familiar take shape in another form.

I think about the places I have visited here in Massachusetts. Brookline, where the story begins in a modest house that now stands as a national historic site. 

Cambridge and the long shadow of Harvard, where the next generation of Kennedys would be shaped. 

And Hyannis, the place where history softens into something more personal, where the public story of the Kennedys meets something quieter, more reflective, almost private.

I have walked through the rooms, the streets, the shoreline. I have sat with the history not as something distant, but as something close enough to feel.

And more than that, I have had the rare privilege of meeting members of the Kennedy family themselves. Most meaningfully, I met Jean Kennedy Smith, the last surviving sibling.

After she passed away in 2020, that moment took on a greater weight.

It was then that I began to intentionally build what has now become a Kennedy book collection approaching two hundred volumes. 

Over the past five years, it has grown steadily. What began as interest became something more deliberate, almost a form of stewardship. Each book, each volume, another way of holding onto the story and understanding it more fully.

In August of 2023, I visited Holyhood Cemetery in Brookline, where Jean’s sister Rosemary and her parents, Rose and Joseph P. Kennedy, are laid to rest. 

I have returned there more than once. The most recent visit was on the 137th anniversary of Joseph P. Kennedy Sr.’s birth, on behalf of a friend.

So, when I see this image of Fassbender as Joe Kennedy Sr., I do not just see an actor preparing for a role. 

I see the attempt to reconstruct the beginning of a legacy I have spent years studying, collecting, and quietly living alongside.

There is also a feeling that comes along very rarely, before something even premieres, before the reviews, and before the conversation begins. A quiet sense that this might be different.

I remember feeling that once before.

Before The Crown premiered on Netflix, there was a similar anticipation. Not just excitement, but curiosity, wondering whether a series could take familiar historical figures and present them with depth, restraint, and humanity. When it finally arrived, it did not just tell a story. It allowed you to sit with it.

That is the feeling I have again now.

This upcoming Kennedy series feels like it has the potential to carry that same weight, if it chooses to. There is always a risk with projects like this. The Kennedys are often reduced, either to myth or to controversy, to Camelot or to tragedy. What I hope, more than anything, is that this series restores complexity. That it shows the formation before the fame, the decisions before the consequences, and the family before the legend.

There were people who took an interest in the Royal Family as a result of seeing The Crown. I have a feeling that if this series succeeds, there will be a new generation that takes an interest in the Kennedys. Perhaps even a deeper interest in history itself. I look forward to seeing how this unfolds.

And so, to conclude this entry, I return to the night when President John F. Kennedy and First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy welcomed King Hassan II to the White House. President Kennedy said:

“We value our old friends and we value, particularly, those that are seeking, under great difficulty, under great pressure, to find a position for their country which advances the welfare of their people, the stability of their area, and the peace of the world.”

From Remembrance to Preparation: A Kennedy Reflection

I returned home from work this afternoon, and now, as I settle into the weekend, I am seated at my desk beside my Kennedy book collection, taking time to write, even as many prepare for another winter storm in the coming days.

Today would have been Jean Kennedy Smith’s ninety eighth birthday, and in her honor, I wanted to write this entry. I met her once in 2017 at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library.

It was a brief encounter, but it stayed with me. After she passed away in 2020, that moment took on greater weight. It was then that I began intentionally building what has now become a Kennedy collection approaching two hundred volumes.

What began as remembrance gradually became sustained engagement with the history of her family and their era.

That engagement deepened on September 8 of last year, when three volumes arrived together. 

The Senator from New England examined John F. Kennedy before the presidency, still shaping his political identity. Janet and Jackie turned to the private formation of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, tracing the influence of her mother. In Her Sister’s Shadow shifted the focus outward again, exploring the life of Lee Radziwill and the parallel narratives within the Bouvier family. Together, they broadened the scope of the collection from a single presidency to an interconnected family history. They marked the beginning of a more deliberate season of study.

Five months ago, on October 11, 2025, one week before leaving for Hyannis, I visited the grave of Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. at Mount Auburn Cemetery. 

While Jean preserved her brother’s memory within her family, Schlesinger preserved it in the historical record. Both were connected to President John F. Kennedy, one by blood and the other by scholarship.

During my visit, I did not rush. I sat for some time and imagined what I would ask him if he were still living. I imagined asking what it requires to become a serious historian, not merely someone who admires the past, but someone disciplined enough to engage it carefully. I imagined him counseling rigor, patience, and humility before evidence.

Eight days later, from October 19 to 23, I walked through Hyannis. 

The town was quieter than I expected. The October air was cool, the light muted, and the rhythm of the harbor steady. I stood outside the Hyannis Armory and later walked the roads near the Kennedy Compound, careful to remain at a respectful distance. 

What struck me was not grandeur, but steadiness. The houses, the trees, and the granite shoreline felt lived rather than monumental. Hyannis ceased to be symbolic and became geographic. In that quiet, history felt less like narrative and more like continuity.

In the month after returning from Hyannis, several books arrived that deepened the foundation already built. I had intended to publish a reflection ahead of the November 22 anniversary, but the weeks passed quietly and I never made time to write.

On October 31, Letters to Jackie: Condolences from a Grieving Nation preserved the voices of ordinary Americans writing through grief.

On November 5, an abridged and illustrated edition of A Thousand Days joined the three other editions I already own. 

Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. wrote that book from firsthand experience inside the administration, and obtaining this edition felt, in a small way, like honoring his memory after visiting his grave only weeks earlier. It was not redundancy but perspective.

On November 6 came The Kennedys Amidst the Gathering Storm, returning to London in the uneasy years before war. 

Jean appears on the cover alongside her parents and siblings, a reminder that she had a front row seat to history.

On November 25, John F. Kennedy, Jr.’s birthday, The Abyss: Nuclear Crisis Cuba 1962 by Max Hastings arrived, recounting the Cuban Missile Crisis when civilization stood perilously close to catastrophe.

When I placed it beside my other volumes on President Kennedy and the Cuban Missile Crisis, I felt a quiet sense of preparedness. If I were called upon to write about those thirteen days, I would have direct access to these sources without needing to rely solely on distant archives.

Though I was pleased with these additions, something arrived that I had wanted for years. On November 3, The Presidential Recordings, John F. Kennedy, Volumes I to III, The Great Crises arrived.

This set feels different from any other volume on my shelves. It is not biography or commentary. It is transcript, direct access to recorded conversations inside the White House during the most consequential decisions of the administration. For years, consulting this material required research libraries or the archives at the John F. Kennedy Library in Boston. Holding these volumes in my own hands feels less like acquisition and more like responsibility.

There are still volumes I hope to add in time, including The Presidential Recordings, Volumes IV to VI, The Winds of Change.

For now, they remain beyond what I feel comfortable justifying financially. That is not frustration. It is discipline. With nearly two hundred Kennedy related volumes now on my shelves, I feel prepared for serious research when the time comes. The absence of three additional books does not diminish that readiness. They can wait.

The Kennedy collection no longer feels like pursuit. It feels prepared. The shelves are steady. The urgency has softened.

Though today marks Jean Kennedy Smith’s ninety eighth birthday, it also calls to mind another moment in her family’s history. On February 20, 1961, her brother, President John F. Kennedy delivered his Special Message to the Congress on Education, a call to invest not merely in buildings or institutions, but in the development of human capacity.

It feels fitting to conclude with his words:

“Our progress as a nation can be no swifter than our progress in education. Our requirements for world leadership, our hopes for economic growth, and the demands of citizenship itself in an era such as this all require the maximum development of every young American’s capacity.

The human mind is our fundamental resource. A balanced Federal program must go well beyond incentives for investment in plant and equipment. It must include equally determined measures to invest in human beings, both in their basic education and training and in their more advanced preparation for professional work. Without such measures, the Federal Government will not be carrying out its responsibilities for expanding the base of our economic and military strength.

Our twin goals must be: a new standard of excellence in education and the availability of such excellence to all who are willing and able to pursue it.”