My father, who passed a few years ago, was always a teller of tall tales.
I grew up in
Newport, where for a time my Dad also lived. He always bragged, among some of his other crazy sailor stories, of sailing with Ted Kennedy. It was one amongst his many unverifiable yarns.
On one fine day he and my cousin were biking in
Newport when Ted Kennedy came out of a car in
Washington Square. On seeing my dad he instantly addressed my Dad, "Kevin McCarthy! How are you?". They exchanged pleasantries and the senator went about his business. My cousin $h1t himself, so he claims, and couldn't believe my father wasn't bs-ing all that time. Apparently Ted, like many of the best ole Tammany Hall-style Irish politicians, had that amazing gift of memory. He remembered my father, though it had been quite a few years. It had probably only been once or twice that he had joined Mr. Kennedy on a yacht in some bay
race, but he still recognized my old man.
I was out sailing on Narragansett Bay the afternoon Ted died, and wasn't aware of his death. I was remarking how heavy the winds were (and they were strong seemingly without explanation) when one of my guests told me Ted Kennedy had died. I suppose I have my own belief as to why they had picked up so string, so fast. I'm sentimental like that.
Not a political person whatsoever, consider myself Conservative, but I believe the sea reclaims her own. Godspeed Teddy.
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