To Catch A Sunbeam

After John F Kennedy's funeral, Jackie took it upon herself to empty his private rooms in the White House. She did not want strangers touching his private things, and as his wife, she felt that this was her duty. She went through the numb motions of putting things aside that she wanted to keep, cherished mementoes, favorite ties, even his old slippers, all of which bought tears to her eyes. Then she turned her attention to his mahogany desk, which she had bought for him for his birthday a few years ago. The drawers did not reveal much in the way of personal items, aside from some speeches he would never now make, that he must have drafted late at night. Despite the grimness of the situation, she managed to smile at the sight of coffee rings on some of the papers.  Jackie thought the bottom drawer was empty when she shut it, but she heard something rattle. Frowning, she opened it, and heard it again. There was nothing in there she was sure, and so she shut the draw again. The sound ...

(Venice 1957) "My dear Maria, You have only been gone from me for just a few hours, and already my heart is heavy. Venice is so empty without you my darling, as is my soul which longs for your presence. I look out over the city this evening and the twinkling lights seem to mock me, whispering how our magical time together here has come to an end. But I console myself with the thought that we will always have Venice. Do you feel the same way my darling? Please tell me that you do. I comfort myself in my loneliness and longing in remembering your triumphs this week, indeed, the memory of when you walked out on to the stage and looked into the audience directly at me, as if to secretly signal to me that you esteemed me above all others, will ensure that no matter when and how I die, a part of me will always die happy cherishing that moment. Oh, Maria, if only you could be here now. The memories of the ball when you entered in your emerald gown and I worshipped at your feet as if I ...

("Callas Week", Venice, 1957) "Go and see who that is, Titta!" Maria said on hearing a knock on their hotel suite door. She was sitting at her dressing table, applying her make up as they were due to have a late lunch with Elsa Maxwell before leaving Venice. Titta obediently did as he was told, and opened the door to find a bellboy standing with a man who had come to deliver a large bouquet of flowers (yellow roses and violets). "Flower delivery for Madam Maria Meninghini-Callas" the Bellboy said. Titta nodded for them to come into the suite, and directed them to put the flowers on the table. He also noticed that a bottle of Dom Perignon had also arrived with the flowers. Both the bellboy and the delivery boy looked at Titta expectantly waiting for a tip, but he simply ushered them out and shut the door in their faces. "Who was that?" Maria called. "Some flowers and some champagne have been delivered for you".  "Who from?" Tit...

(Elsa Maxwells Ball, "Callas Week", Venice, 1957) The air was thick with the cloying sweetness of tuberose and rose bouquets and the faint tang of champagne, mingling with the warm, musky sweat of the crowd as Elsa Maxwell bulldozed her way through the glamorous throng of jet setters, tycoons, film stars and socialites. Rustling in her black taffeta, and weighed down by brassy gold jewelry which clanked as she walked, she ushered Mari Meninghini-Callas, with a possessive hand on her arm, to a couple who were sitting at one of the tables. Maria's husband, Giovanni Battista "Titta" Meninghini dutifully trailed behind as Maria passed through as if a Queen presiding over a court, nodding and smiling to some, bestowing a word on others.  "My darling Maria! I have someone that you simply must meet! Now, I know you promised me a private word, and I understand that you are very busy tonight meeting your fans, but this is someone very special!" "Oh? Who is...

"One night last winter Mr. and Mrs. Onassis dropped into P. J. Clarke's, a kind of jet-set saloon on New York's Third Avenue, for some cheeseburgers and steins of beer. All eyes were on them from the moment they entered. When Mrs. Onassis left the table and went to the powder room, at least eight ordinarily well mannered women followed her. Jackie, after elbowing her way out of the overcrowded place, stomped back to her table mumbling angrily." ~  The $20,000,000 Honeymoon : Jackie And Ari's First Year As the door opened, everyone looked around and saw that an oddly glamorous couple had entered the eatery. They were an oddly glamorous mismatch. She moved with the regal grace of Versailles, a tall, slender figure who seemed to transcend her slightly ungainly features. He was smaller, not as elegant or graceful, and certainly no Adonis on first glance. But even if they gave off a Tarzan and Jane vibe, everyone knew who they were; Manhattan native and America's Q...

"Jackie was very thoughtful and protective of Ari and her idea of inviting Pierre was perfect." On one occasion the guests dined ashore because Jackie and Onassis had made it clear tha they wanted to be alone together. 'When we came back,' Solang said, 'it was wonderful to see the two of them dining downstairs in very romantic setting. It was a touching scene. But afterwards he turned..." (However, this is a very American way of looking at the situation)  Jackie sits down for dinner in the dining room of The Christina. The candles flicker, there is soft music playing, the wine bubbles as the crystal glasses sparkle. But the room is big and is more suited to big formal dinners. It seems empty and awkward with the two of them.  Once again, Jackie has been late. Ari has been drinking before she arrives. He's not drunk, but he's beligerent. The waiters put their meals down before Ari and Jackie. The wine is left in the ice bucket. The waiters retreat, lea...