Rumor: Ted Kennedy cheated on his wife as did brothers Bobby, JFK and daddy Joe. Rumor: Ted let his nighttime companion Mary Jo Kopechne drown in waters off Chappaquiddick.
Being he’s gone, types like me dassn’t think him an alleged no-goodnik-com. So, keeping a semi-open mind, I report coming at us is the film “Chappaquiddick.”
Jim Gaffigan, who plays Paul Markham: “In ’69, living in the Midwest, I was too young to know about this. But my Irish Catholic family — discussing Teddy never becoming president — for sure talked about it. My parents voted for the Kennedys.
“People tried to film this for years. Factors stopped it. That takes power, but Kennedys always shut it down. I only know today Kennedy’d have gone to jail. The inspector I play even wanted to be part of the cover-up. But this is neither a hit piece nor an apology.
“The Kennedys were brilliant minds. They solved the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban Missile Crisis. I’d heard many different theories about them but, seeing the family history laid out, I’m surprised that I developed empathy for Ted. His brother died a year before. I also had a tough dad so I understand that — but his was a really tough dad who would not allow his family be defined by failure.
“Immediately after it happened, Joe assembled a roomful of people to work out how to save Ted from this scandal.”
Where did you film?
“Some in Chappaquiddick. For safety, we shot outside water scenes like the Chappaquiddick bridge in a water tank in Mexico.”
Entertainment Studios’ “Chappaquiddick” hits theaters April 6. Jason Clarke plays Ted. Kate Mara’s Mary Jo.
If you ask me, he’s a son of a master
Alan Gershwin, always known as — but never proven to be — George Gershwin’s unnamed son just left us. Twice married, four children, three grandchildren, stone broke.
I knew him well. He and my husband brunched every Sunday in the Village’s now-gone Pennyfeathers.
He always maintained George Gershwin — whose estate then was estimated in the millions, meticulously guarded by his survivors — had a five-year affair with his mother, tall brunette Ziegfeld chorine Mollie Charleston.
I reported in January ’93, Alan, born in Brooklyn Maternity, under last name Schneider, told his parents were dead, was raised by Mollie’s sister. As Mollie’s fortunes burgeoned, George’s brother, Ira, acting as the beard, was her escort.
Alan’s face, voice, hands were identical to George’s. His handwriting paralleled George’s. He had a neck lipoma. So did George. Said Alan to me:
“Gershwin genes are hard to hide.”
Interviewed friends said the era’s morality was such that an illegitimate child scandal could kill off Gershwin’s career. His family accosted me, saying, “We have nothing to do with this man. You must never write about him again.”
Alan told me: “Unsavory guys in dark suits frightening me told me my life wouldn’t be worth anything if I said anything. And to keep out of the spotlight, away from lawyers and courts if you know what’s good for you.
“But I always knew I was George Gershwin’s son. I knew that all my life.”
A story known only in New York, kids, only in New York.