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.
MY DAUGHTER TOLD ME I’M MAKING A FOOL OF MYSELF AFTER I SENT HER A PHOTO OF ME IN A WEDDING SUIT
The crisp white of the wedding suit stared back at him from the full-length mirror, a stark contrast to the weathered lines etched on his face. Arnold, at 75, felt a flutter of nervous excitement, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in decades. He smoothed down the lapels, a wide grin spreading across his face. Helen, his Helen, had said yes.
He couldn’t wait to share the news with his daughter, Emily. He snapped a quick photo, a proud, beaming smile plastered across his face, and sent it to her with a simple message: “Guess who’s getting married!”
He waited, his heart pounding with anticipation. The phone buzzed, and he eagerly opened the message. But the words that appeared on the screen were like a slap in the face.
“Dad, you’re making a fool of yourself. You’re too old to play dress-up and pretend you’re a groom. At your age, it’s pathetic. And what ‘LOVE’ could you possibly have at 75?!”
The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. He felt a wave of shame wash over him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since he was a young boy. Had he really become a pathetic old man, clinging to a childish dream?
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, the wedding suit suddenly feeling like a heavy, suffocating weight. He remembered the first time he had met Helen, her warm smile, her gentle touch. They had met in the nursing home, two lonely souls finding solace in each other’s company.
Helen had brought a spark back into his life, a warmth he thought he had lost forever. She had listened to his stories, shared her own, and made him feel seen, truly seen, for the first time in years. He had fallen in love, a deep, abiding love that defied age and circumstance.
He looked at the photo of himself, the beaming smile now a ghostly reminder of his shattered joy. Was he really being ridiculous? Was he making a fool of himself?
He thought of Helen, her eyes filled with love and laughter, her hand warm in his. He thought of the joy they shared, the quiet moments of companionship, the feeling of being truly alive again.
He picked up the phone, his fingers trembling, and dialed Emily’s number.
“Emily,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “I understand you’re concerned. But Helen makes me happy. She makes me feel alive again. And I’m not going to apologize for finding love at this stage of my life.”
“Dad, you don’t understand,” Emily pleaded. “People will talk. They’ll laugh at you.”
“Let them,” Arnold replied, his voice gaining strength. “I’m not living my life for them. I’m living it for myself, for Helen.”
“But Dad—”
“No, Emily,” Arnold interrupted. “This is my decision. I’m going to marry Helen. And I hope, one day, you’ll understand.”
He hung up the phone, a sense of resolve settling over him. He wouldn’t let anyone, not even his own daughter, steal his happiness.
He walked to the mirror, his gaze meeting his own. He looked at the lines on his face, the silver in his hair, and he saw not a pathetic old man, but a man who had found love, a man who had the courage to embrace it.
He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. He would marry Helen. They would build a life together, filled with love and laughter, defying the expectations of others, proving that love, like life, has no age limit.
The wedding was small, intimate, filled with the warmth of genuine affection. Helen, radiant in her simple white dress, stood beside him, her hand clasped in his. They exchanged vows, their voices filled with love and promise.
As they walked down the aisle, hand in hand, Arnold felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. He had chosen love, chosen happiness, and he had chosen himself. And that, he knew, was the greatest gift of all.
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