Augusta Hickey. Always aiming slightly above his station, PJ didn’t mind that Mary was from a “better” Irish–American family, wealthier than his own; he knew his mind. Opportunities for social advancement were limited in the notoriously snobbish world of Boston high society, particularly if you had Irish Catholic heritage, and Mary knew it. This was a society that was as anglicised as it was rarefied. The rulers of this pompous roost were the Boston Protestant élite – the so–called Boston Brahmins, made up of a select number of Boston families who celebrated each other at parties, in politics and in toasts:
And this is good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where the Lowells talk only to Cabots,
and the Cabots talk only to God.
Yet Mary Augusta Hickey was won over by PJ’s affability and ambition and in 1887 she duly became Mrs Mary Kennedy, then gave birth to a son on 6 September, 1888. Rather than calling her first–born after his father, as was the norm, the class–conscious Mrs Kennedy christened the boy Joseph Patrick, and as he grew older, his mother always introduced him as Joseph.5 His friends would call him Joe. The Irish name Patrick was a scar from an unwanted past that she preferred to remove.
Over the next decade, life improved for many Irish–Americans and none more so than for Mary and PJ. In 1901, the respectable couple sent young Joe to Boston Latin, a Protestant secondary school that boasted such alumni as Benjamin Franklin. Joe stood out from the start. Despite being one of a handful of Catholics in a Protestant school, the boy thrived and was so popular among his classmates that he was elected class president. He did well enough at school to be accepted as a student at Harvard University, where he played on the baseball team.
Harvard boasted a number of college clubs, which granted privileged access to the Old Boys’ Network and should have given Joe a headstart in one of the big brokerage firms in Boston. However, despite his popularity and his many achievements at Harvard, to the well–groomed Wasps of Ivy League colleges, Joe was still a ‘Mick’. He had two strikes against him: he was too Catholic and his family’s money was too new, so he found himself blackballed from the most influential clubs. Kennedy would never forget this rejection.
History had different plans for Joseph Patrick Kennedy and all who would follow him. Left to blaze his own trail, Joe got a job as a bank examiner and in 1913, he made his first big deal when he borrowed enough money to take control of the Columbia Trust Company, the Boston–Irish bank his own father had helped to set up in 1892, while it was being threatened with takeover.6 He had a genuine gift for business and over the next few years would make a fortune speculating on the stock market.
John F. Fitzgerald, JFK’s maternal grandfather, and Rose, JFK’s mother, at the Giant’s Causeway in 1908.
The Fitzgerald connection
Just two years out of Harvard, Joe repeated family history by setting his sights above his social station and falling in love with Rose Fitzgerald, a member of one of the Boston Irish community’s first families. Descended from Thomas Fitzgerald, who had left Ireland in 1854, the Fitzgerald family had fared better than the Kennedys.
Rose’s father, John “Honey Fitz” Fitzgerald, was one of Boston’s most colourful and mercurial characters. Though he studied at Harvard medical school, he only lasted two years there because he had one real passion, and that was politics. He knew that money couldn’t buy you social acceptability in the snobbish world of Boston high society, but political office was bound to help. Honey Fitz was the consummate Irish–American politican; a back–slapping wheeler–dealer with the gift of the gab. He became a Congressman in 1895 and then, most famously, Mayor of Boston from 1905–07 and 1910–12, the first Irish–American to be voted into that post.
As a teenager Rose Fitzgerald acted as hostess at many of her father’s political functions. In 1906, Joe Kennedy began to pursue her, although Honey Fitz didn’t warm to the young Kennedy. He was determined to protect his first–born daughter from this brash young man and did his utmost to keep the couple apart. In fact, he managed it for eight years, but Honey Fitz didn’t count on Joe’s sheer determination and while he was preoccupied by a low point in his political career in 1914, Kennedy struck and the two were married.
The modern epic that constitutes the Kennedy story begins here. In 1915 Joseph Jr was born, and Honey Fitz told anyone who would listen that his grandson would be president in the White House one day. In 1917 John Fitzgerald Kennedy came into the world, and in the ensuing years Rose would give birth another seven times.
Displaying a competitiveness that would prove somewhat genetic, Joseph Kennedy excelled in anything he applied himself to and found his niche talent was in the world of business. By the 1920s, Kennedy had made a fortune speculating on the stock market. His money was useful in a modern sense but his success wasn’t enough to impress the Boston Brahmins, whose only currency was class. Attempts to join country clubs in Boston were rebuffed. His father was still referred to by the Brahmins as “Pat the tavern keeper”7. Almost eighty years after his grandfather set foot on Boston harbour, the Irish were still being treated as second–class citizens and Joe Kennedy was fed up with it. He decided to start afresh in New York, where he moved his burgeoning family in 1927, claiming that Boston “was no place to bring up Catholic children”. Joe and Rose now divided their time between New York, Hyannis Port on Cape Cod, Palm Beach, Florida, and Boston. Joe became wealthier with every decade, bringing his ruthless and relentless energy to the stock exchange, to Hollywood, where he produced several hit films and helped to found the RKO studio, and to the liquor business, importing alcohol to the US both during Prohibition and after its repeal.
Joe and Rose were deeply ambitious for their children. They ached for them to excel, to win prizes, to be accepted, but the prejudice that had started at the Boston docks had travelled to the élite New York schools and not much had changed in this regard by the time Joe Jr and John F. Kennedy were of school age. As one contemporary commented, “To be an Irish Catholic was to be a real, real stigma – and when the other boys got mad at the Kennedys, they would resort to calling them Irish or Catholic.”8 Insults are part of the rough and tumble of boyhood shenanigans but it was more serious when the future president was refused access to certain schools favoured by the Brahmins. He was finally accepted by Choate, an exclusive boarding school in Connecticut, but found himself banned from joining many of the school’s prestigious clubs.
Young John Kennedy, nicknamed Jack by his family and close friends, was an average student who was fascinated by history and English, but not remotely so by mathematics or the sciences. Regularly unwell with a spastic colon, he lived his school and college days in the shadow of his irrespressible brother Joe, who was awarded the Harvard Trophy, a prize given to those who achieved both the best sporting and academic records. Jack wasn’t overly exercised by his brother’s achievements and made his way through Choate and then Harvard at his own pace, making lifelong friends, despite the occasional bout of racial prejudice. He was smartly groomed and well–spoken, but his sandy hair and blunt features gave him away as Irish before his surname was even mentioned, and the older, more puritanical Bostonian families still saw the Kennedys as nouveaux–riches upstarts.
As Joe Sr’s stock rose (metaphorically and otherwise), newspaper and magazine articles were written
