In the iconography of political campaigning, it is traditionally the wife who gazes worshipfully at her husband. In the case of Michael and Kitty Dukakis, it is just as often the candidate who is caught looking starry-eyed at his wife.
The intimacy of Michael and Kitty, unlike that of many political unions, is never questioned. Seeing them together suggests that the lyrics of sappy love songs can be true -- or perhaps that he is the one candidate this year who could be accused of uxoriousness. Marching in a chilly St. Patrick's Day parade in Chicago last month, Kitty asked him to push up her collar against % the wind. Dukakis, who forgot that he was wearing a microphone that allowed the press to hear his comments, whispered to her as he adjusted her coat, "Tonight if I'm asleep, wake me up. Don't let a moment go by." (Kitty cut in with a sharp, "Your microphone's on.") Sometimes, to counteract criticism that he lacks fire, Dukakis will tell audiences, "Kitty thinks I'm passionate."
They present a sitcom study in contrasts, a political Odd Couple. He is cool; she is warm. He counts their pennies; she spends their dollars. She favors sleek high heels; he wears clunky wing tips. (One of her cardinal campaign rules is not to unpack in front of her husband, lest he see some new purchase.) His desk is as clean as a putting green; hers resembles a rummage sale of old papers. He is guarded; she is winningly open. She loves to gossip; for him, small talk is a foreign language. He is Greek Orthodox; she is Jewish.
Whereas Dukakis is contained, Kitty spills over with emotion. When she sneaks a cigarette, she will often say, "Don't tell Michael!" On nights before primary votes, she does not sleep, and she is a devoted reader of tracking polls, which he largely ignores. High-strung and hyper, she speaks in a quick, clipped cadence, like someone eager to get off the phone in order to make another call. The two complement each other. It may well be true that the only person who knows the real Kitty is Michael and that the only person who knows the real Michael is Kitty. Yet there is one attribute they share: ambition.
Katharine Dickson is the daughter of Harry Ellis Dickson, a former violinist for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and the retired associate director of the Boston Pops. Her home was a lively one, with musicians and artists as frequent guests. At an early age she took up modern dance, and later became a teacher of it. Her nickname comes from her mother's friend, the vivacious actress Kitty Carlisle Hart.
Kitty first met Michael Dukakis when she was 14, but Dukakis, then a self- important high school senior, does not recall it. After high school, she went to Penn State, which she left in her sophomore year. She married John Chaffetz, who was in the Air Force ROTC, and moved to California. Their union did not last: they divorced when their son John was three years old. Kitty then rented a small apartment in Cambridge, Mass., for herself and her son and began attending Lesley College part time.