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“I asked the Secret Service if I could be taken to them. They began to lead me up one corridor and down another. Suddenly I found myself face to face with Jackie in a small hallway. I believe it was right outside the operating room. You always think of someone like her being insulated, protected. She was quite alone. I don't think I ever saw anyone so much alone in my life. I went up to her, put my arms around her, and said something to her. I'm sure it was something like "God, help us all," because my feelings for her were too tumultuous to put into words.”
(Excerpt from Lady Bird Johnson’s diary on the day of JFK's assassination.)
Saturday, 22nd November 1963 - Parkland Hospital, Dallas, Texas
“Mrs Kennedy?” I broached the subject gently, “Wouldn’t you like… to take that jacket off now?”
Jackie Kennedy held her solemn gaze and shook her head, “I wish I hadn’t washed my hands now, or my face - I want them to see what they have done to Jack.”
We stood in the small hallway outside the operating room. Behind the walls that separated them, John F. Kennedy lay.
I deliberated for a moment, feeling pulled towards the woman, a widow now, though neither of us really knew it then. In a swift, urgent gesture, I wrapped Jackie in a hug. I didn’t mind the dark blood on her pale pink suit, it was dry. Even if it was fresh I still would have held her.
Even in my diary, later that night, I would never admit what I said next. It was too dangerous. I couldn’t do it again. I was married to the Vice President for God’s sake! I was a good, honest Southern girl… wasn’t I?
“It’ll be alright, Jackie.”
On the surface, it sounded like nothing - words of comfort to a woman whose husband had just been shot. But swirling underneath were the words of a lover.
Jackie buried her face in my neck, her hair, once perfectly permed, fell haggard in front of her eyes.
“I don’t know, Lady.” She whispered, “I just don’t know.”