Through his humble and straightforward narrative style, I can hear her breathy voice calling his name, be it in amusement, annoyance, or a unique combination of the two. The deeply personal recounting of so many private yet fascinating moments yields a refreshing portrait of a woman subjected to so many portraits– in this case one without drama, sensation or agenda. Clint Hill takes us, his readers, on a one-on-one historical journey that only he can tell. And though “that day” came more than a decade before my birth, his frank and detailed words drew me in close enough to feel as if I were right there alongside him on November 22, 1963.
For all that’s been written about First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy over the past half century, only the U.S. Secret Service Agent assigned to her detail holds the otherwise unrecorded memories to write as he does. And Mr. Hill writes well in “Mrs. Kennedy and Me,” despite a few cases of grammatical usage that his proofreader apparently missed. She returns to life throughout these pages as calculating yet reasonable, demanding yet understanding, mischievous yet respectful– and the descriptors can easily go on. As her voice speaks through the pages, above all else I imagine her picking up a copy from beyond, glancing at it with a stunned yet captivated expression, and in disbelief that yet another entire book has been written about her, immediately calling out, “Oh, Mr. Hill…”