She always called him “Mr. President” — not Jack. He refused to kiss her on the lips when they made love. But Mimi Alford, a White House intern from New Jersey, was smitten nonetheless.
She was in the midst of an 18-month affair with the most powerful man in the world, sharing not only John F. Kennedy’s bed but also some of his darkest and most intimate moments.
In her explosive new tell-all, “Once Upon a Secret: My Affair with President John F. Kennedy and Its Aftermath,” Alford, now a 69-year-old grandmother and retired New York City church administrator, sets the record straight in searingly candid detail. The book, out Wednesday was bought by The Post at a Manhattan bookstore.
In the summer of 1962, Alford was a slender, golden-haired 19-year-old debutante whose finishing-school polish and blueblood connections had landed her a job in the White House press office.
Four days into her internship, she was invited by an aide to go for a midday swim in the White House pool, where the handsome, 45-year-old president swam daily to ease chronic back pain. JFK slid into the pool and floated up to her.
“It’s Mimi, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“And you’re in the press office this summer, right?”
“Yes, sir, I am,” she replied.
Lightning had struck. Later that day, Mimi was invited by Dave Powers, the president’s “first friend” and later the longtime curator of the Kennedy Library in Boston, to an after-work party. When she arrived at the White House residence, Powers and two other young female staffers were waiting. Powers poured, and frequently refilled, her glass with daiquiris until the commander-in-chief arrived.
The president invited her for a personal tour. She got up, expecting the rest of the group to follow. They didn’t. He took her to “Mrs. Kennedy’s room.”
“I noticed he was moving closer and closer. I could feel his breath on my neck. He put his hand on my shoulder,” she recounts.
The next thing she knew, he was standing above her, looking directly into her eyes and guiding her to the edge of the bed.
“Slowly, he unbuttoned the top of my shirtdress and touched my breasts.
“Then he reached up between my legs and started to pull off my underwear.
“I finished unbuttoning my shirtdress and let it fall off my shoulders.”
Kennedy pulled down his pants but, with his shirt still on, hovered above her on the bed.
He smelled of his cologne, 4711. He paused when he noticed her resisting.
“Haven’t you done this before?” he asked.
“No,” she said.
“Are you OK?” he asked.
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Poster Comment:
I remember when Seymour Hersh published The Dark Side of Camelot and was savaged in the press for daring to smear the Kennedy myth. Read the comments at the end of this article, the Kennedy worshippers are steaming mad.