This assessment of the late Edward (Ted) Kennedy by one of the Massachusetts Democratic senator's more illustrious constituents, the economist and diplomat John Kenneth Galbraith. More bouquets, and a few brickbats, from a large cast of notables which includes Lauren Bacall, Bob Geldof, Sumner Redstone, William Westmoreland and Shelley Winters and Newt Gingrich.

Ted Sorenson, JFK aide and international lawyer. "Resilient survivor"

I first met JFK's brother Edward, then a Harvard student, in the fall of 1953, when we visited the Kennedy family home in Hyannis Port on the same weekend. We didn't see each other much in the next few years. But I got to know him better when he played a key role in the 1960 presidential campaign, particularly in the Western states, and still better when he sought the Democratic nomination in Massachusetts for JFK's vacated Senate seat in 1962.

…….

Jack's death, followed by Bobby's death less than five years later, deeply changed Ted. He matured rapidly. He knew he bore responsibility for the family name, assumed the mantle of family leadership from his brothers, and took on the job of nurturing and guiding their children, comforting their widows and supporting their causes.

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For the bit part, Joker [in "Picnic"], a young filling station attendant who made a one-line pass at Madge, there applied a handsome young man who had left the Yale Drama School and was selling encyclopedias to support his wife and three children. He got the part of Joker and he also became Hal's understudy [drifter Hal Carter, played by William Holden]. His name was Paul Newman.

The understudy we chose for Madge and Mille was talented enough to play either one of them. Her name was Joanne Woodward. (1955)

From "Josh: My Up and Down, In and Out Life," by Joshua Logan (Delacorte Press, 1976)

Rocky Graziano, boxer: Not one thing phony

Robert Wise, the director signed to do my picture, "Somebody Up There Likes Me," spots this kid doing a terrific job on the TV show and signs him to take Dean's place in my story [James Dean had just been killed in an automobile accident] ...

The studio arranges for me to meet Paul Newman and he shows up for the meeting wearin beat up slacks and a T-shirt. We click it off right away, when he grins at me like he's known me all my life. "Whataya say, Rock!" he says. "I read your book, and I saw you fight. It's amazing to see you are a man of letters."

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In January 1972, I sang my first "I Puritani" opposite Luciano Pavarotti in Philadelphia. Luciano's career was then just beginning to take off. The first time I stood on stage with him and heard him sing, I thought: My God, this man sings so beautifully. I never heard Caruso live, of course, but I can't imagine being more touched by a voice than I was when Luciano sang Arturo to my Elvira.

Before the end of 1972, Luciano and I sang "Lucia" in San Francisco. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that our engagement out there created civic pandemonium. Luciano had become a superstar in the blink of an eye, I was at the top of my game, and together we knocked San Francisco for a loop. Every night we sang, the opera company had to turn thousands of people away. The crowds outside the opera house were almost as big as those inside.

... The Pavarotti that people talk about now is such a contrast to that chubby, funny guy who used to take walks with me in San Francisco, who'd sit in my dressing room and tell jokes during performances, and who'd cook us spaghetti afterward. In the early days, when Luciano got fat, I think he was tortured by all the jokes made about his appearance. On the surface, he's now adopted a very cheerful attitude about his weight, but it's probably a source of great sadness to Luciano that he can't control his appetite.

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The first time I heard of a young fellow named Merv Griffin, I was singing with Kay Kyser's band. I heard a song called "Lovely Bunch of Coconuts" with Merv featured as a vocalist. He was of Irish descent, about my age, some say he even looked a bit like me, and he was singing with a big band. Like me...

I think the world of Merv Griffin. He's about as likable as people get, his show was a class act, and I like to think we were brothers in the Exalted Order of Pioneer Daytime TV Hosts... (Chicago, early 1950s)

From "I'll Be Right Back: Memories of TV's Greatest Talk Show," by Mike Douglas with Thomas Kelly and Michael Heaton (Simon & Schuster, 2000)

Charles Templeton, evangelist and broadcaster: "Expanding his opportunities"

I did the show ["Look Up and Live" on CBS] for three years. In my last season I was joined by Merv Griffin as co-host. Merv was at the time a band singer who wanted to expand his opportunities and add to his versatility. He was easy to work with, amiable, no camera hog, and quickly became a witty and skillful interviewer. My most vivid memory is of the two of us perched on high stools bantering until we broke up in laughter -- neither of us able to remember the name of the guest we were supposed to introduce. (New York, 1956)

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I remember running into her in a Los Angeles hotel in 1960 when LBJ was one of the many contenders for the Democratic nomination. With all the hubbub and mad dashing going on around her, she had decided to take her daughter to an afternoon movie...

After Kennedy won the nomination, negotiations began to get LBJ to take second place on the ticket. Speaker Sam Rayburn acted as go-between and eventually gave up his opposition to LBJ taking the second spot. Not Lady Bird. As pols ran in and out of their suite through the long night, she repeatedly told Lyndon he would be letting his Texas friends down if he accepted the number two spot...

Covering Lady Bird [as first lady 1963-68] had its own exhaustion threshold: While we had exhausted ourselves just trying to eke out news of Jackie [Kennedy] and her secretive comings and goings, we exhausted ourselves just trying to keep up with Lady Bird.

We had more access, and not only at the Texas ranch. When Lady Bird launched her historic "beautify America" project, we all got to go along for the ride. And what a wild ride it was.

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The disapproving look I got from Barbara Bush at a state dinner in honor of Russian President Boris Yeltsin. He was seated at the table next to mine and, thinking of my nieces and nephews and wanting to come up with some historic memento of the occasion, I asked Yeltsin to sign my menu card. Sitting next to me was the wife of James Billington, head of the Library of Congress and a renowned Russia scholar. When she saw what I did, she asked me to get an autograph for her husband. So I again defied the gods of protocol and approached Yeltsin. He graciously obliged. He was having a great time, and enjoying being the center of attention. When I caught Mrs. Bush's look, I felt a bit uncomfortable. But I was not sorry I had gotten the autograph, especially for the nation's top librarian. (Washington, D.C., 1990)

From "Front Row at the White House: My Life and Times," by Helen Thomas (Lisa Drew Book/Scribner, 1991)

Billy Graham, evangelist. "Interest in religion"

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At the University of Iowa ... I taught two freshmen rhetoric classes four mornings a week, then went home to eat lunch and write ... Kurt Vonnegut was our neighbor. We had adjacent lawns; he lived behind us, at the top of the hill. One day that summer, he was outside on his lawn or on his front porch four times when I was outside, and we waved and called to each other. The first time, I was walking home from teaching, wearing slacks and a shirt; the next time, I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt I had put on to write; then I wore gym shorts without a shirt and drove to the track; in late afternoon, wearing another pair of slacks and another shirt, I walked up to his house to drink. He was sitting on his front porch and, as I approached, he said: "Andre, you change clothes more than a Barbie doll." (Iowa City, mid-1960s)

From "Meditations From a Movable Chair," by Andre Dubus (Random House, 1999)

Peter Fonda, actor. "Wonderful family"

The rights to writer Kurt Vonnegut's novel Cat's Cradle had lapsed ... so I phoned Kurt and made an appointment to meet him at his home on Cape Cod. To me, Cat's Cradle was the perfect book to put into motion picture form...

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I was, at the time, Paris correspondent for a small but highly regarded news agency, the Overseas News Agency ... a remarkable group of young American newsmen, the finest corps of reporters ever assembled in one capital at the same time. Among them were ... a pudgy cigar-smoking youngster, a stringer for Variety covering show business news, named Art Buchwald, today the premier humor writer and political satirist in the world, published around the world. (Paris, mid-1940s)

From "America Inside Out: At Home and Abroad From Roosevelt to Reagan," by David Schoenbrun (McGraw-Hill, 1984)

Peter Viertel, novelist and screenwriter. "Permanent grin"

It was in the bar in Chez Carrere that I first met the cherubic Art Buchwald. Art was starting his career as a stringer for Variety, a modest post in which he did not yet display his humoristic talents. He had served in the Marine Corps during the war and had been stationed in Hawaii. A quiet, amiable young man with a permanent grin on his round face, he appeared content to observe the goings-on and digest his observations for his future use as a columnist of the Paris Herald Tribune. He quite obviously shared my admiration for Irwin Shaw as both a writer and a human being, and it was largely due to Irwin that he established himself as a member of our group. (Paris, late 1940s)

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His office walls were monastically unadorned. So was the furniture. He sat in back of his desk with the light behind him, rather remote, one thought, from the manifold trivia of the day. Or so it seemed that morning. His desk too was bare, for Gene, both out of principle and distaste, did not do much work.

I had known Gene, though far from intimately, from his first weeks in the House of Representatives. Henry Reuss of Wisconsin, my OPA [Office of Price Administration] colleague, friend and long-time congressman from Milwaukee, had then invited me to dinner to meet him, describing him as the most diversely talented man -- economist, poet, teacher, philosopher -- to be elected to the Congress in many years. (Washington, D.C., 1949)

From "A Life in Our Times," by John Kenneth Galbraith (Houghton Mifflin, 1981)

Thomas P. (Tip) O'Neill, U.S. representative and House speaker (1976-1986)
Whimsical fellow

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I would go to The Bitter End during the day and get a piece of paper with a number on it telling me when I went onstage -- like at a bakery.

 On that bench with me at one time or another were comics ... Richard Pryor, skinny, brilliantly shocking ... with jacket sleeves lengthened so many times, he looked like an admiral. (New York, early 1960s)

From "Enter Talking," by Joan Rivers with Richard Meryman (Delacorte Press, 1986)

Nina Simone, jazz singer
Nervous

Colpix recorded my set there and it became my next album, "Live at Village Gate." Opening the show was a young comedian, Richard Pryor, and on the first night of my booking I stood in the wings with him as he waited to go on. He shook like he had malaria, he was so nervous. I couldn't bear to watch him shiver, so I put my arms around him there in the dark and rocked him like a baby until he calmed down. The next night was the name, and the next, and I rocked him each time. He never stopped being nervous -- at least not while I was there. (New York, early 1960s)

From "I Put a Spell on You: The Autobiography," by Nina Simone and Stephen Cleary (Ebury Press, 1991)

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As far as I can remember Lettering [at Liverpool Art College] took place twice a week and about a dozen of us had opted for it through choice, but there was one amongst us who didn't seem to fit into our neat little band of letterers, his name was John Winston Lennon.

The reason he didn't seem to fit was that he had had no choice to which course he took ...nobody wanted him. John's particular talents hadn't gone unnoticed but they weren't his artistic talents. They were his talents for having fellow students fall about with shocked, uncontrollable laughter at his wicked, disrespectful wit. His ability to disrupt a lecture had to be seen to be believed and John's appearance was even worse than his humour. I think he was the last stronghold of the Teddy Boys -- totally aggressive and anti-establishment. My first impression of John, as he slouched reluctantly into the lettering class for the first time, was one of apprehension. I felt that I had nothing in common with this individual and as far as I was concerned I never would. In fact he frightened me to death. The only thing that John and I had in common was that we were both blind as bats without our glasses...

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It was a charmed circle. But perhaps the most charmed was Saul Bellow, the only one who got as far as a Nobel Prize. He always thought of himself as a maverick, a loner, not a New Yorker; whether this self-image was literary or personal I cannot say, perhaps a bit of both. But we did think of him as part of the new alignment of writers, and there was a good deal of affection and respect for him ...

We met about the time his first story, "The Mexican General," appeared in Partisan Review in 1942. Here was a fresh talent, exhibiting a remarkable control of tone and subject ...

Bellow must have had early on a strong sense of being set apart. I recall once when he was visiting us for a weekend at our summer place in New Jersey, we were sitting outside, talking, and our landlord who lives next door began to mow the lawn. The noise of the mower interfered with our conversation each time it came close to us, as it moved in a narrowing circle. Saul became irritated and said quite matter-of-factly to me that we should tell my landlord to stop mowing: it simply did not occur to him that we might move ...

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Hunter S. Thompson wrote an article in the May 17, 1965, issue of The Nation about the Hells Angels and called it "The Motorcycle Gangs, Losers and Outsiders." I actually liked the way it was written, even though some of the facts were exaggerated. After the article received a good reaction, Thompson came back to Oakland and hung around the clubs favorite biker bar hangouts until he and I finally met face-to-face. He told me he wanted to ride with the club and me and write a book about us. Since I liked the way he wrote, the Oakland and Frisco chapters I let Hunter hang out with the club for a price, two kegs of beer. But as time went by, Hunter turned out to be a real weenie and a stone fucking coward. You read about he walks around his house now with pistols, shooting them out of his windows to impress writers who show up to interview him. Hes all show and no go. When he tried to act tough with us, no matter what happened, Hunter Thompson got scared. I ended up not liking him at all, a tall skinny, typical hillbilly from Kentucky. He was a total fake. Hunter got along with some of the members better than me.

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The Millers were pretty secluded [near Bridgeport, Conn., in the mid-1950s]. I don't think anyone, including the [William] Styrons, were asked to visit. Norman was really pissed that Miller didn't call to invite us over for a neighborly drink. But then again, why should he? The two had never really liked each other, even in the forties when they were unknown and both had studios in Brooklyn Heights. Norman was writing "The Naked and the Dead" and Miller "Death of a Salesman." When I first started going out with Norman in 1951, I met Arthur and his first wife at a party given by Norman Rosten, a poet friend of Norman's. At the time, Miller was rather cold and remote, perhaps a cover for shyness. His wife was a handsome, tall, blonde, matronly looking woman. Miller showed no animosity, just a coolness toward Norman.

From "The Last Party: Scenes From My Life With Norman Mailer," by Adele Mailer (Barricade Books, 1997)

Ronald Radosh, journalist and historian. His "whole loaf"

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Dick Cavett, TV talk show host. "Church basement magic"

When I was fourteen he was already a Famous Man, since he was on both radio and TV from Omaha.

I ... met Johnny when he was appearing in a church basement in Lincoln ... Two friends and I, all of us magic buffs, snuck backstage and accosted him as he was setting up. He looked slightly annoyed. People are always nosing around when a magician is setting up, and the magician rightly would like to catapult them through the nearest window. When we told Johnny we were amateur magicians, however, he became quite friendly and even showed us a few card fans. Then we went back out front, aglow from our contact with a star. The classy thing that Johnny did that evening was to introduce us, in the middle of his act, as three young magicians and ask us to take a bow from the audience. We were thrilled. (Lincoln, Neb., 1950)

From "Cavett," by Dick Cavett and Christopher Porterfield (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1974)

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