As the G.O.P. readied itself for Jan. 20, Democratic leaders still eyed one another warily and scanned the distant horizon. There was an appearance of cohesion: Hubert Humphrey had led the Democrats to a defeat but not to a debacle. Most encouraging was that in Senator Edward Kennedy the party saw a shining champion who had not been bloodied at all in the conflict—one, moreover, who offered the hope of future victory.
Last week, for the first time since Robert's death, Ted Kennedy moved out of the seclusion of his Massachusetts and Washington bailiwicks. His journey took him to Morgantown, W. Va., where he dedicated a federal rehabilitation center for errant youth named in Bobby's honor. Recalling the 1960 primary campaign in West Virginia that confirmed Jack Kennedy's position as front runner, and Bobby's own campaign there last spring, Ted was momentarily husky-voiced. "These hills, these people, this state have had a very special meaning for my family," he said. "You have taught us the lessons of fortitude and stamina. We tried to make your problems and misfortunes ours and the nation's. You made our misfortunes yours."
Familial Duties. In Boston next day, Ted took up his self-imposed task of fund raising to pay off the $3,500,000 in debts run up by Robert Kennedy's presidential campaign. He was determined not to let the $1,000-a-plate banquet at the Sheraton Plaza degenerate into a wake. After expressing the Kennedys' gratitude to the "finest and dearest friends of our family," he gently needled his mother Rose, introduced her as a "shy and retiring person," as evidenced by her frequent appearances on NBC's Today show. Listening to Ted, a Boston politician said sadly: "He could have been the nominee this year and if he had, he would have been elected."
Whether he would have or not, the fact remained that Ted had clearly chosen not to run. The field of candidates would be open to others should he choose not to run again in 1972—he is, after all, the last male Kennedy of his generation, and on him falls the weight of many and great familial burdens. Some of these responsibilities were apparent last week, when Ted flew down to Washington to escort Ethel Kennedy to the hospital and remained until a caesarean operation was completed and mother and daughter—her eleventh child—were doing well. The following morning Ted accompanied four of Ethel's children to Arlington National Cemetery and knelt beside them at their father's grave.