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.”
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