Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1963)

Esprit heard that Jacqueline Kennedy and the President were coming to France in 1961, they thought how nice it would be if they took a day from their trip to come visit the village. They contacted everyone possible in Paris. The ambassador. Friends of the ambassador. Friends of their friends. But to no avail, it seemed. For their letters were never answered. But then two radio reporters in Paris got wind of what the villagers were trying to do. And they volunteered to help. The reporters explained first that it would be very difficult for the President of the United States and his wife to travel all the way from Paris for a day, that their schedule was very strict. But, they said, there was a very good possibility that if Mme. Kennedy heard about how anxious her family was to meet her, she might perhaps meet them for a little while in Paris. For days after that, there was no word. Skeptics in the town laughed at the idea. They said, “She will never say yes. Can’t you just see her posing with the little country cousins from the little town in the south?” They laughed. They laughed. And every day that passed, with no word from Paris, their laughter seemed to grow. But then, on the day of the Kennedys’ arrival in Paris, the two radio reporters pulled up to Marcel’s house. “She will see you,” they said, excitedly. “Tomorrow, for a few minutes, in Paris, while her husband is conferring with de Gaulle. She has stressed that she wants no pictures, no publicity. This is no good for us — after all, for us it would have been a great story. But if it makes you all happy, then we feel that it is worthwhile.” Needless to say, Danielle was the happiest of all the Bouviers. No one who was around will ever forget watching her pack that night for her trip to Paris and to meet her cousin Jacqueline — the delight, the joy, the anticipation, as she folded the new dress she would wear for the occasion. And how she wrapped in very fine tissue paper the little gift which she had bought to bring as a gift to cousin Jacqueline’s little daughter — a tiny toy nightingale. Danielle and her father were scheduled to leave for Paris very early the next morning, in the car with the two reporters. Said Monsieur Souquet, continuing: “Because there was not enough room in the car, my wife and I — the only other two who would meet cousin Jacqueline — left for Paris by train the previous night. Hurriedly, we packed. Hurriedly, we departed. Very tired, very tired, we arrived in Paris the following morning. Only to find out the news. That the car in which Danielle and the others had been riding had crashed into a tree. That Danielle had been killed. Instantly. That the others had all escaped serious injury. But that Danielle — only eighteen — was dead. “Sadly, right from the station where we heard the news, my wife and I returned to Pont Saint Esprit. The next day, very nicely, we received this message from cousin Jacqueline. Here. This is it. I will read it to you, if you will permit me.” They never met And he read aloud : “I am very sorry about the bereavement that has struck you and please share my most sincere condolences with every member of your family, (signed) Jacqueline Kennedy.” “And this here,” he went on, “this is the little letter which I sent to cousin Jacqueline in return.” He read: “On behalf of the entire Bouvier family, I was touched by your message. We thank you with all our hearts for the meeting you accepted, for which we had so feverishly prepared, and which would have filled us with joy. Danielle had prepared so hard that sbe might be of that journey. Her joy was very great and at the church where she had gone to pray just before leaving on the journey, she had kissed her father and said, ‘This is the finest day of my life.’ Unfortunately, that day stopped at dawn, (signed) Raymond Souquet.” “And so that is how it went that time, last August. With Danielle.” But his voice seemed to choke up now, and he was finding it hard to go on. He lifted, instead, the bottle of anis. “A little more,” he asked me, “to drink?” “No thank you,” I said. “Aristide? You? A drink?” “No.” “Paulette?” “No.” “Mireille?” “No, Papa.” Raymond Souquet placed the bottle back on the table. “What a country France is becoming,” he said, “if everybody — including myself — begins to turn down a glass of good pastis.” And he tried very hard to smile. It was a little while later. I stood with Aristide at the small railroad station of Pont Saint Esprit, waiting for the train that would take me back to Paris. “If Mrs. Kennedy does come to this village one day, Aristide,” I asked, “is there anything in particular that you personally would like to say to the First Lady of the United States?” He thought for a moment. And then he said: “Yes — yes — I would tell her, ‘To really know this village, Mme. Kennedy, slip away from me and all the rest of the crowd for a moment, if you can. And go for a while down to the river. Alone. And stand there and gaze at the Rhone. And breathe in its particular scent. Its lovely scent. Plus the scents of the mistral — the wind from the north — and the platan trees all around you, and the sun above you and the vineyards to the south. Breathe in deeply, Mme. Kennedy, these scents. For these are the scents of your past. . . .’ “And then I would say to her: ‘Now look up from the river. And turn and stare right behind you. At the ancient buildings that still stand there. At the people who will be looking at you through the windows of those buildings. And — and study hard those buildings and the faces of those people. And as you do, dig your feet hard into the earth on which you are standing. And from all this, Mme. Kennedy, I think that you will perhaps discover about yourself a little something that you have never known. And that — even to your surprise — you will be an even happier woman for having made these discoveries, at last.” We waited in silence, after that, for the approaching train to pull into the little station of Pont Saint Esprit. Doug Brewer You Can Still finish What does a High School Diploma mean to you? Increased earning power? A wider choice of respected careers? Faster promotions? A richer, fuller life? All this— and more— can be yours more easily than you think. You "attend" high school at home, in spare time... study at your own pace. 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