MAN OF THE YEAR
(See Cover)
The taste of victory was fresh and sweet to John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Just about a year ago, he sat in the drawing room of his Georgetown home and spoke breezily about the office he would assume. "Sure it's" a big job," he said. "But I don't know anybody who can do it any better than I can. I'm going to be in it for four years. It isn't going to be so bad. You've got time to think—and besides, the pay is pretty good."
One year later, on a cool, grey day, the 35th President of the United States sat at his desk in the oval office of the White House and discussed the same subject. "This job is interesting," he said in that combination of Irish slur and broad Bostonese that has become immediately identifiable on all the world's radios, "but the possibilities for trouble are unlimited. It represents a chance to exercise your judgment on matters of importance. It takes a lot of thought and effort. It's been a tough first year, but then they're all going to be tough."
The words, not particularly memorable, might have come from any of a thousand thoughtful executives after a year on the job. But here they were spoken by the still-young executive in the world's biggest job, and they showed the difference in attitude and tone that twelve months in the White House have worked on John F. Kennedy.
Jack Kennedy—Man of the Year for 1961—had passionately sought the presidency. The closeness of his victory did not disturb him; he took over the office with a youth-can-do-anything sort of self-confidence. He learned better; but learn he did. And in so doing he not only made 1961 the most endlessly interesting and exciting presidential year within recent memory; he also made the process of his growing up to be President a saving factor for the U.S. in the cold war.
Kennedy has always had a way with the people—a presence that fits many moods, a style that swings with grace from high formality to almost prankish casualness, a quick charm, the patience to listen, a sure social touch, an interest in knowledge and a greed for facts, a zest for play matched by a passion for work. Today his personal popularity compares favorably with such popular heroes as Franklin Roosevelt and Dwight Eisenhower.
During 1961, Kennedy suffered some major setbacks, including one, in Cuba, that might have ruined some Presidents.* Yet, his popularity has remained consistently high, seemingly unaffected by his vicissitudes. In the latest Gallup poll, 78% of the American people said that they approved of the way he is doing his job. But personal popularity, as Kennedy well knows, is not always reflected in widespread support of public policy. To translate popularity into support is the job of the politician—and the job to which Kennedy has come increasingly to devote his time and energy.
In many of the most visible ways, Kennedy has been little changed by the presidency. In the White House, he still fidgets around, prowling the corridors and offices, putting his feet on his chair, pulling up his socks, tapping his teeth, adjusting and readjusting the papers on his desk, occasionally answering his own telephone or making his own telephone calls. It used to be that the telephone salutation, "This is Jack," would bring the