(2 of 2)
In Concord, Mass., Jacqueline Onassis took daughter Caroline Kennedy, 14, to begin classes as a sophomore at co-educational Concord Academy (annual fee for boarders: $4,100). While photographers clicked away, Caroline and a friend strolled around the campus, sipping soft drinks. Back in Athens, meanwhile, her stepfather Aristotle Onassis played host at a roistering party for his son Alexander, 24, Actress Elsa Martinelli, Odile Rodin (widow of Porfirio Rubirosa) and four other intimate chums. The evening ended in a tumultuous traditional session of plate smashing on the dance floor of the Neraida nightclub. "I lost count of the plates," said a witness, "but it must have been an Olympic record." Theoretically, the shattered plates could get Onassis six months in jail: the Greek government outlawed the custom in 1969, and Attorney Nikolaos Galeadis promptly filed a complaint against Onassis. "The law is the law and is the same for everyone," snapped Galeadis.
∎
After 20 or so years abroad, Money Magnate J. Paul Getty wants to go home. "I plan to move back to the United States for good in about two or three years," says Getty, who now stays most of the year in Surrey, England, but also owns homes in Naples and Palo, Italy, and Malibu, Calif., where he will live when he returns. "I'll probably make a couple of visits before that," he says. While visiting, Getty plans to look over an art museum he is building on his property in Malibu, and check out a clutch of buildings in which he has financial interests but has never seen. "I admit it," said the 79-year-old Getty. "I'm getting homesick."
∎
Richard M. Nixon in the middle of a hair-pulling match? Well, almost. After paying a surprise visit to his Washington campaign headquarters, the President suddenly popped in on the Hearst Newspapers bureau on the same floor. Columnist Marianne Means took advantage of the moment to ask a blunt question: "Can you promise me personally that you will never propose any federal tax increases while you are in the White House?" Just as the President answered "Absolutely," Marianne felt "three good strong tugs" at her shoulder-length blonde hair. Press Secretary Ron Ziegler, who was standing behind her, had chosen a new way to cut off unwanted questions. Marianne decided not to fight back. "His own hair is too short to tug properly, and a kick in the shins would not have been ladylike," she said.