need for energy conservation, but the baggy, ill-fitting sweater only made him look like a wimp.
“In a nation that was proud of hard work, strong families, close-knit communities, and our faith in God,” he said, “too many of us now tend to worship self-indulgence and consumption.”
The president sounded as though he was blaming the American people for the country’s problems, instead of assuming responsibility himself. And although he never used the word, his talk became known derisively as Carter’s “malaise” speech.
“That speech was so contrary to everything I believe in that it upset me,” Ted Kennedy said later. “I was alone watching it. I didn’t talk to any political reporters for three weeks before; you know how political reporters are—they keep coming around to take your pulse…. [Then] I spent four weeks making a personal decision, not even talking with key people you respect.”
To make that personal decision, Ted had to take into account his frayed marriage to Joan. Was their relationship repairable? Was it possible for Joan to forget the past and join him in the greatest adventure of their life—the pursuit of the presidency? If he won the White House, could Joan function as First Lady?
To find out the answers to those questions, Ted asked Lawrence Horowitz, a thirty-four-year-old physician and top staffer on Ted’s health subcommittee, to convene a panel of experts from around thecountry to review Joan Kennedy’s medical history. Ted wanted to know whether his running for president would put an unbearable strain on Joan’s health. For by now it had become clear that Joan had problems that went beyond alcoholism; she was having episodes of severe mood swings that are experienced by people with bipolar disorder.
The daylong meeting took place in the first week of September 1979 at a hotel in Virginia, and it included Joan’s principal psychiatrist. When Ted showed up in the evening, the doctors gave him their consensus opinion: To the extent that Joan would be kept busy in a focused and structured atmosphere, a presidential campaign would be a plus, not a minus, because it would relieve Joan of her current feeling of isolation.
Ted also asked Dr. Horowitz to speak with Kara and Teddy Jr. and tell them that their father was seriously considering running for president. (Patrick was already on board and didn’t have to be persuaded.)
“And I would say [Kara and Teddy Jr.] were not wildly enthusiastic,” Horowitz recalled. “But they … didn’t say, ‘We don’t want him to run.’ Both of them said, ‘If this is what he wants to do, we’ll support him.’ And out of that and listening to their concerns, I got the senator’s permission to go to the White House to ask for Secret Service protection.” 9
S INCE THE DAYS of Joe Kennedy, the Kennedys had been regarded as masters at manipulating the media. Reporters fawned over John and Robert Kennedy when they ran for president. And Ted likewise had many friends in the press. For the rollout of his presidential campaign, Ted offered to give an interview to Roger Muddof CBS News, who was considered a friend of the family. Ted had helped find a job for Mudd’s son, and Mudd had been a guest at Ted’s home on Squaw Island.
Mudd and the executives at CBS News jumped at the chance to get Ted in front of the cameras. They agreed to tape two interviews—one at Ted’s home on Squaw Island, the other in his Senate office—then splice them together and run the whole thing as an hour-long special in early November—three days before Ted’s official announcement that he was running for president.
Ted knew that the CBS brass considered him a big “get;” by giving CBS an exclusive, he was doing the network a favor. He therefore viewed the arrangement with Mudd in the same vein as a political deal—one hand washing the other. In return for doing a softball interview, Mudd would get a leg up in his competition with Dan Rather over