Ethel Kennedy faced unimaginable heartbreak throughout her life. Among the many tragedies she endured was the sudden loss of two of her sons. Take a closer look at the heartbreaking deaths of David and Michael Kennedy.
Ethel Kennedy, the wife of the late Senator Robert F. Kennedy, was a prominent figure in American history, known for her unwavering commitment to social justice and her strength in the face of family tragedies.
Ethel and Robert F. Kennedy boarding a plane for San Juan, Puerto Rico, in March 1966. | Source: Getty Images
Born into a political dynasty, she married into one of the most iconic American families. She and Robert raised 11 children, navigating both the highs of public service and the lows of personal loss.
Despite her remarkable resilience, Ethel was no stranger to heartache, having tragically lost two of her sons — David and Michael Kennedy — in sudden and devastating circumstances.
Ethel Kennedy at the Restore Ball in New York City on September 28, 1970. | Source: Getty Images
David, the fourth of Ethel’s children, led a life deeply affected by trauma. At just 13 years old, he witnessed the assassination of his father on live television, an event that haunted him for the rest of his life.
Despite his promising beginnings, the emotional toll of his father’s death led David down a path of addiction. On April 25, 1984, he was found dead in his hotel room in Palm Beach, Florida, at 28.
David and Chris Kennedy watching a tennis match with their cousin, Ted Kennedy Jr., on August 25, 1974. | Source: Getty Images
He had struggled with drug and alcohol addiction for many years, and while his cause of death wasn’t immediately clear, investigators eventually ruled out suicide.
There were ”no signs of foul play,” said Sergeant Henry L. Marchman, spokesman for the Police Department of Palm Beach. The results of a preliminary autopsy tonight were being studied, as officials suspected it was an accidental overdose.
David Kennedy at the Democratic National Convention on July 15, 1976, in New York. | Source: Getty Images
David, who resided in Boston, traveled to Palm Beach to visit his grandmother, Rose Kennedy, who was in poor health. His body was discovered by a hotel secretary, Elizabeth Barnett, around 11:30 a.m. after a family member called to check if he had left for his flight.
When there was no response from his room phone, the hotel staff were instructed to investigate, according to hotel spokesman Gerald H. Beebe Jr.
David Kennedy in New York in 1984. | Source: Getty Images
The spokesman noted that hotel staff had seen David the previous Tuesday, describing him as being in good spirits. A desk clerk even recalled him waving as he passed the front desk.
David’s uncle, Senator Edward Kennedy, reflected on his nephew’s troubled life, stating, “We all pray that David has finally found the peace that he did not find in life.” The Kennedy family were no strangers to tragedy and mourned deeply, but the heartbreak did not end there.
Members of the Kennedy family escorted by Ethel Kennedy carrying the casket of David Kennedy from the hearse to the Kennedy House on May 4, 1984. | Source: Getty Images
Thirteen years later, in 1997, another devastating blow struck Ethel when her son Michael died in a skiing accident. Known for his adventurous spirit, Michael was skiing in Aspen, Colorado, when he collided with a tree, resulting in his immediate death at 39.
Michael Kennedy and Vicky Gifford at Attorney Roy Cohn’s birthday party in New York City on February 22, 1981. | Source: Getty Images
Michael had faced controversy in the years leading up to his death due to an alleged affair with the family’s babysitter. The scandal even affected his brother Joseph P. Kennedy II’s political aspirations.
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My Girlfriend Received a Rose Bouquet Delivery, but It Was Not from Me – The Truth behind It Turned My Life Upside Down – LoveAnimals
My world flipped upside down when my longtime girlfriend received a present that had me believing she was cheating. Looking back now, I jumped to the conclusion of infidelity because of my past trauma. In the end, my girlfriend’s gift set me on a journey of healing.
What I thought was a normal day turned into something quite unexpected. At one point, I thought my relationship with my girlfriend was over. Let me introduce myself, my name is Garry, 30, and I have been dating my partner for four wonderful years.
I truly believed our relationship was over when on a typical Thursday afternoon at the office my phone buzzed with a text from my girlfriend, Emily. I glanced at the phone, expecting a quick chat about dinner plans, but the text was filled with excitement.
Confused, I opened the message and was left in shock when I read it! “Thank you for the flowers, sweetheart! They’re so beautiful and thoughtful,” she wrote. Attached was the picture – her and a huge bouquet of red roses.
I froze. “Flowers? I hadn’t sent any flowers,” I thought to myself as my mind started racing, but I managed to keep it calm. “I’m glad you loved them,” I wrote back, trying to mask my confusion. “I’ll see you at home tonight.”
Needless to say, the rest of my workday was a mess! I was FLOODED with suspicion. “Who had sent Emily those flowers?” I wondered to myself. I couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that she might be seeing someone else.
But I decided not to confront her over the phone. I needed to see those flowers and find out more. The workday dragged on painfully slow. My imagination ran wild with scenarios, each more distressing than the last! By the time I finally left the office and got home, I was a bundle of nerves!
When I walked through the door of our apartment, the first thing I saw was the bouquet of red roses on the dining table. They were stunning, arranged perfectly in a crystal vase. Emily greeted me with a kiss and a smile, but I was too distracted to fully respond.
I walked over to the flowers, pretending to admire them. “They really are beautiful,” I said, looking closely at the bouquet, my heart pounding. Then, I saw the note sticking out tucked between the flowers. My hands were shaking as I reached for it, expecting the truth about Emily’s cheating to come out.
I pulled it out and read the words that made my blood run cold and a chill run down my spine. The note read: “Your mother died. These were her favorite flowers. If you can, please come to the funeral.”
I felt the room spin, and I gripped the table to steady myself. Emily noticed my reaction and her face filled with concern. “Are you okay?” I shook my head, barely able to process the information. “These flowers…they’re from my mother’s husband. She’s…she’s dead.”
Emily looked shocked. “I didn’t know you were in touch with her,” she asked softly, coming over to embrace me. “I wasn’t,” I said, my voice hollow. “I haven’t spoken to her in years. She left my father and me for another man when I was a kid.”
Continuing my tale, I added, “She didn’t want children, so she abandoned me.” I could see how torn up Emily was to hear how I’d suffered growing up. I hadn’t been willing to share my whole background with her until now. Luckily, she was as supportive as ever.
The next few days were a blur of emotions. I couldn’t decide if I should go to the funeral. Part of me wanted to ignore the message, to pretend it had never arrived. But another part of me felt a pull, a need to find closure.
Emily was there for me through it all, though clearly confused by the sudden upheaval in my life. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you,” she vowed. The day before the funeral, I received a phone call that changed everything. It was my father.
He surprised me by saying, “I’m going to the funeral,” his voice strained but resolute. I was stunned. “Dad, after everything she did to you, to us?” He sighed. “I’ve had years to think about it, and I’ve realized that holding on to all that anger has only hurt me more,” adding:
“I need to let it go, for my own sake. And I think you need to do the same.”
We drove to the funeral together, the car ride filled with an uneasy silence. When we arrived, I saw faces I didn’t recognize, people who had become part of my mother’s new life. I felt like an outsider, but having my father there made it bearable.
The service was somber. As I looked at the casket, I realized how much time had been wasted in anger and resentment. My mother had made her choices, and they had hurt me deeply, but she was still my parent.
After the service, I approached my mother’s new husband. He looked tired and grief-stricken. “I’m sorry for your loss,” I said as I placed a hand on his shoulder, and I meant it. He nodded gratefully, tears in his eyes.
Then he told me something I didn’t know I needed to hear. “She spoke of you often, you know. She regretted leaving you.” Between trying to hold back tears, he shared, “She always hoped you might forgive her someday.”
I thanked him for sharing that information with me before walking away. The ride home was quiet but less tense. My father and I had both faced our past and while it didn’t erase the pain, it felt like a step towards healing.
My sweet Emily was waiting for us when we returned. Her presence was a comforting reminder of the love and stability I had now. “I’m proud of you,” she said, hugging me tightly. As I held her, I made a deep realization.
It dawned on me that while the flowers had brought back painful memories, they had also given me a chance to confront and let go of the past. My life had turned upside down, but in a way that allowed me to start anew. This time with a heart a little lighter and a future a little brighter.
Weeks later, Emily and I were having dinner when she looked at me thoughtfully. “What are you thinking about?” she asked. “I’ve been thinking about my mother,” I admitted. “I never expected to feel this way, but her death has made me realize how important it is to let go of the past.”
Emily reached across the table and took my hand. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.” I squeezed her hand, grateful for her support. “I know. Thank you for being here through all this.” That night, as we sat together, I thought about the journey ahead.
There would be more difficult moments and more painful memories to confront, but I wasn’t alone. I had Emily, my father, and a renewed sense of hope. My life had changed, but had also been set on a new, promising path.
A few months later, I received another unexpected message. This time, it was from one of my mother’s old friends. She wanted to meet and share some memories of my mother. I hesitated, but Emily encouraged me to go.
When I met with her, she handed me a box filled with letters and photos. “Your mother kept these all these years,” she said. “She always hoped you would read them someday.” As I read through the letters, I felt a mix of emotions.
There were apologies, explanations, and expressions of love. It was overwhelming, but it also brought a sense of closure. Returning home that evening, I shared the letters with Emily. “It’s strange,” I said, “but I feel like I understand her a little better now.”
Emily hugged me. “That’s important. Healing takes time, but you’re doing it.” Looking back, I realized that the bouquet of roses had been the catalyst for a journey I never expected to take.
It had brought back painful memories but had also opened the door to healing and forgiveness. Being brought back into my mother’s life even though it was in her death had also set me on a new, hopeful path. I was even finally ready to propose to Emily!
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