I need a 2 page compare and contrast summary on President John F. Kennedy between him being a devoted family man a good husband and father to his kids to being sympathetic to his wife Jackie over the miscarriage she had and how he was secretly cheating on her by having affairs with mistresses. Basically taking a look at both his good image and his bad image, his public image versus his private life, his good guy persona versus his bad boy / playboy persona. I need this to be done by Sunday November 5, 2023 by 3 PM my time please. I have attached some documents that can help.
John F. Kennedy as a good person accounts: https://youtu.be/kyP1j-TwkJA?si=Rw4UPr1gnk6lM0pt https://youtu.be/d1r201_J8xs?si=BGxEkhhN457EzLbH https://youtu.be/lVTgEgUuDGM?si=j3Y9mvmf8QTA1EcW JFK, the Playboy Version, and the Political Cipher By Peter Carlson May 20, 2003 Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Step right this way! Now appearing on America's newsstands, it's the battle of the mythic JFKs! For the low, low price of just two magazines, you -- yes, you! -- can take a ringside seat for the epic battle between the coke-snorting, hooker-loving Bad JFK and the sagacious, statesmanlike Good JFK!!! Step right up! Pick your favorite mythic JFK or -- better yet -- collect both! The Bad JFK appears in the June issue of Playboy, nestling cozily close to nude photos of Sarah from the "Joe Millionaire" show. The Bad JFK is fondly recalled by George Jacobs -- who was Frank Sinatra's valet during the 1950s and '60s -- in an excerpt from his forthcoming memoir, "Mr. S.: My Life With Frank Sinatra." "I was crazy about John Fitzgerald Kennedy," Jacobs writes. "He was handsome and funny and naughty and as irreverent as Dean Martin." This raises the question: Is it a compliment to compare a president to Dean Martin? Kennedy hung around with Sinatra during the late '50s when the senator was preparing for his 1960 presidential campaign. When JFK visited Sinatra in California, Jacobs says, he was interested in only one thing -- sex. "I would ask him about Castro or Khrushchev, but he wanted to know if Janet Leigh was cheating on Tony Curtis." Once, according to the memoir, as the two men bantered, the senator asked Jacobs, who is black: "What do colored people want, George?" "I don't know, Mr. Senator," Jacobs responded. "What do you want?" "I want to [bleep] every woman in Hollywood," JFK replied. That's a noble goal and, if we can believe Jacobs, Kennedy did his best to fulfill it. Sinatra hooked him up with Marilyn Monroe, who was, Jacobs says, "the ultimate Girl Who Can't Say No." Ol' Blue Eyes also shared one of his favorite call girls, Judith Campbell, with JFK and his father, Joseph P. Kennedy, whom Jacobs describes as a nasty bigot who told vicious anti-Semitic jokes. Jacobs also claims he saw JFK snorting cocaine with his brother-in-law Peter Lawford at Sinatra's house in Palm Springs. "For my back," explained Kennedy, who suffered from chronic back pain. "For God's sake, George, don't tell Frank," Lawford said. "National security," Kennedy added, laughing. Then, Jacobs writes, the senator offered the valet a line of coke. Should we believe this stuff? Who knows? Jacobs's book is published by a reputable publisher -- HarperCollins -- but that doesn't mean much in the publishing world these days. He could certainly be lying or embellishing to sell books. But these tales are, alas, pretty close to what we've already heard about the Bad JFK. His fondness for cheesy sex and his use of powerful drugs, including amphetamines, are well documented, most recently in respected historian Robert Dallek's new biography, "An Unfinished Life." The Good JFK appears in the June issue of the Atlantic Monthly. In an essay titled "JFK's Second Term," Dallek speculates that if Kennedy hadn't been assassinated in 1963, he might have reached a rapprochement with Castro and withdrawn American troops from Vietnam. "In counterfactual history nothing is certain," Dallek writes. "But we do know that in November of 1963 Kennedy was strongly leaning both toward reducing tensions with Castro and against expanding commitments in Vietnam." This theory has long been propounded by Kennedy sycophants and by nutjobs like Oliver Stone, whose bogus movie "JFK" was based on the premise that the CIA killed Kennedy because he wanted to withdraw from Vietnam. Dallek, a veteran biographer, is neither sycophant nor nutjob, so his endorsement of this theory, although presented with ample caveats, is significant. To buttress his case, Dallek cites "newly available documents," including an "undated, unsigned memo" that JFK may or may not have seen before he was killed. The memo, written by an unknown "administration official," proposed, Dallek writes, that "in exchange for the Soviets leaving Cuba, the Americans would leave Vietnam." Dallek also cites a tape that JFK dictated shortly before his death in which he expressed misgivings about what he called the "repressive and undemocratic" South Vietnamese junta. A memo that JFK may never have seen and an ambiguous tape -- it's a pretty fragile foundation on which to build a case for JFK as a dove, especially when there is so much evidence to the contrary. Like most politicians, JFK talked out of both sides of his mouth, and for every dovish statement Dallek unearths, he could find at least one hawkish utterance. Kennedy's actions were, as Dallek points out, anything but dovish. He backed the Bay of Pigs invasion and later authorized the CIA's attempts to assassinate Castro. He also escalated American military actions in Vietnam and encouraged the South Vietnamese generals who overthrew and killed President Ngo Dinh Diem. Perhaps JFK would have changed his mind later. Many Americans did. But historical "what-if" speculation is always an iffy proposition and Dallek is not particularly convincing in this attempt at it. Growing up in a family of Catholic Democrats in the 1960s, I was born into the cult of St. Jack the Martyr. So it gives me no pleasure to report that I find Sinatra's valet's account of the Bad JFK more plausible than a historian's speculations about the Good JFK. Of course, neither my view nor those of Jacobs and Dallek will change many minds about Kennedy. He has long since passed into the realm of myth, where facts are irrelevant and emotion rules. JFK's Early Days In April 1954, John Fitzgerald Kennedy addressed his fellow senators on the situation in Indochina. It was not surprising, he said, that the French had failed to control a Communist insurgency there. In order to resist communism, the people of Indochina needed not more guns, but the freedom to govern themselves. John F. Kennedy graduating from Harvard University in June 1940. Courtesy: John F. Kennedy Library & Museum Years later, partly due to Kennedy's role in Vietnam, his remarks proved to be tragically prophetic. Yet his speech that day was emblematic of the development of John F. Kennedy himself. The sickly, bookish child, the adolescent rebel and collegiate playboy had grown into a serious politician. Still sexually driven, still self-absorbed, he had become a man with the power to change the world. Many of the people who knew Kennedy in his earlier years would have been surprised at the transformation. Born on May 29, 1917, in Brookline, Massachusetts, John Fitzgerald Kennedy grew up in a family defined by fantastic wealth, Roman Catholicism, Democratic politics, and patriarchal control. Kennedy's father, Joseph Kennedy Sr., had made a fortune on Wall Street and in Hollywood, and he drove his nine children to compete and to win with the same relentlessness that he pursued money and beautiful women. Joseph's wife Rose, daughter of former Boston Mayor John Fitzgerald, had her own obsession -- maintaining the Kennedys' image as the perfect family despite her husband's distance and infidelity. From the very beginning, John Kennedy, or Jack as the family called him, suffered frequent illness. At two, he nearly died from scarlet fever. Like his siblings, Jack enjoyed sports, but he seemed to prefer reading. He possessed a keen intelligence, a gift for creative wit, and a buoyant charm. Educated at private schools, Jack chafed under authority and suffered from academic disinterest. At Choate, a boys' preparatory academy, Kennedy became a magnet for troublemakers. Untidy and rebellious, he made a distinctly negative impression on the Choate faculty. He consistently earned mediocre grades, and his father worried that Jack might never reach his potential. After Choate, Jack headed for Princeton. There, he continued to cultivate what had by then become an obsession -- the pursuit and conquest of eligible females. But illness ended his Princeton career within weeks. The problem was Addison's disease, a malady which had plagued him for years, causing weakness, weight loss, blood problems, and gastrointestinal distress. Addison's disease tortured John Kennedy for decades before it was successfully diagnosed. Several times, it nearly killed him. This time, however, Kennedy's health improved within a matter of months. He returned to college, this time at Harvard, where his older brother Joe had already made his mark. Jack Kennedy arrived at Harvard in the fall of 1936. He quickly dispelled any notions that his academic career would be a serious one. Instead, he concentrated on the social scene, where his charm, good looks, and wealth brought him success with women. Despite his scrawny physique, he managed to win a position on the freshman football team, where he played with tenacity, but little effect. During a tour of Europe following his freshman year, Jack began to show an interest in international politics. He visited Mussolini's Italy and Hitler's Germany. He questioned refugees from the Spanish Civil War about conditions under Franco. Two years later, Kennedy traveled to France, Poland, Latvia, Turkey, Palestine, Russia, and Germany. He wrote long, detailed letters to his father, now Franklin Delano Roosevelt's ambassador to the Court of St. James, about the trouble between Germany and Poland, life in Communist Russia, and the Zionist movement in Palestine. By early 1940, when Jack began his last semester at Harvard, most of Europe had been crushed by the Nazi war machine, and Britain lay under siege. Ambassador Joseph Kennedy faced harsh public criticism for his appeasement of Hitler, as well as for his public assertions that Britain would be destroyed by the Nazis. But Jack Kennedy had his own ideas about England's response to Hitler's rise to power, and he developed them in his Harvard senior thesis. Published and promoted by Joseph Kennedy. Sr., Why England Slept, became a national bestseller. In the book, author John F. Kennedy argued that it was the isolationist character of the British population as a whole, and not Britain's political leadership, that had led to Hitler's appeasement. This isolationist tendency, compounded by the sluggish nature of democracy, had delayed the buildup of Britain's military and allowed Hitler to gain the upper hand. Lauded by some reviewers as perceptive, condemned as simplistic by others, Why England Slept demonstrated that Kennedy was capable of organized, purposeful direction. At a time of international turmoil, he had shown the courage to buck the intellectual tide. Jack was continuing to develop politically. World War II would be the springboard to a full time political career. Jack joined the Navy in the fall of 1941. Two years later, he became a certified American hero. As commander of motor torpedo boat PT 109, he had kept his men safe behind enemy lines after the boat was rammed and sunk by a Japanese vessel. The incident made him famous. In 1946, at the urging of his father, Kennedy parlayed his hero status into a Massachusetts Congressional seat. "We're going to sell Jack like soap flakes, " Joe Kennedy said, and sell him they did. Joseph Kennedy built his own political machine from the ground up, called in numerous political debts, and pumped thousands upon thousands of dollars into his son's campaign. Although he disliked campaigning and his back problems were severe, Jack Kennedy worked hard, and his good looks and charisma helped deliver him a victory. In Washington, Congressman Kennedy became a darling of the social scene. At work in the House, he supported the kind of liberal domestic programs -- health care, housing, and labor -- that were important in his working-class district at home, but foreign policy remained his true interest. In 1952, with the support of his father's political machine, Kennedy won a seat in the Senate. Containing the Communists abroad became a focus of his career. Kennedy, who had toured Asia as a Congressman and witnessed colonial oppression firsthand, believed that offering young nations freedom and development aid could stop the spread of communism. When Senator Kennedy addressed his colleagues on that day in April, 1954, he delivered an eloquent plea for American support of self-determination in Indochina. "No amount of American military assistance," he said "can conquer an enemy which is everywhere and at the same time nowhere," he warned. Clearly, Jack Kennedy had grown. The relentless pursuit of women continued. The attraction to the society life remained. But the senator from Massachusetts had developed a vision which would help drive him to the White House. As president, he would struggle, often unsuccessfully, to implement that vision. He would die with it unfulfilled. Sixty to ninety years ago, it was scandalous to have a gay friend. Lem Billings’ role in the Kennedy Administration went entirely unsung. Scott Badler is a former Harvard and Emerson writing instructor and author of JFK & the Muckers of Choate, which cites many of the Kennedy/Billings letters. Jack Kennedy and Lem Billings were teen roommates at Choate Prep School, in Wallingford, Connecticut, in the 1930s. They were drawn together by a lust for life, a penchant for practical jokes and jealousy of their higher-achieving older brothers. Though there was