John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe
Perhaps no name other than Jessica Berk captures so much recognition for Village dwellers in and around 95 Christopher Street. Jessica grew up at 95 and walked about for decades, clad in black, with a cane and a tiny dog, fearlessly disciplining vagrants and police officers in a high nasal monotone casually sprinkled with shocking expletives. That is, until she and her mother reached an agreement with her landlord to give up her apartment for a very large sum. Jessica then moved to Atlantic City where, during a casual conversation, a new acquaintance told her that his father was the love child of John F. Kennedy and Marylin Monroe. —George Capsis
The first person who invited me to dinner when I moved to Atlantic City was the grandson of the late JFK & Marilyn Monroe. At least that’s what he told me. Somewhat skeptical, I asked William Kennedy to prove it (or get some therapy quickly). Being a seasoned New Yorker, I realized a DNA Test was the only concrete way to do that. More than happy to advance him the cool grand that would require—with the understanding that I’d be participating in the book his dad (the SON of our late president & sex goddess supreme) would be writing—I was pleasantly surprised to find out how cut and dried the results were. So here we are today, about to embark on a multi-media tour. —Jessica Berk
By William Kennedy
God bless. I cannot believe it has been such a long time since my father told me he is the son of John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe. That was in the 1980s, when I was about 10 years old (I am now 47). I was sitting in the back seat of our station wagon crossing the bridge that connects Miami to Miami Beach.
As far back as I could remember, my father had always said he’d been kidnapped, literally. (My mother, an immigrant, didn’t believe kidnapping could occur in America.) Dad and his “fake” mother knew his parents; they just didn’t state their names out loud, preferring to call his real mother “the beautiful one.” Eventually, my mother and I contacted the FBI. They said there had been no unsolved kidnapping case in the United States except for that of the Lindberg baby. Dad’s fake family was still false; but finally, the real one was announced. Initially, it was surreal to hear my father say their names out loud. But after some time, the news became real and shocking.
The tabloids had exploited my father’s parents’ relationship like a riddle with no answer; it was a joke. Because of that, I wanted to laugh by reflex. My neighbor, whom the neighborhood kids thought was scary, made my father confront his weariness of saying the names of his parents out loud.
I knew my obligations to my father and the importance of justice for a child and his parents. And wow—this incredible pedigree with a world-class challenge! I decided to dedicate my life to finding out the objective truth. I would present my case to the world, knowing there was not a scam or a mental disease.
Fast forward 37 years. I’d gone to over a dozen schools and my father and I met members of the Kennedy family and people connected to Marilyn Monroe in many states. The premise was confirmed. We have legally acquired the name Kennedy by serving Dad’s family. Hugh Hefner contacted us in 2006 and tried to get my father to write his kidnapping story, but Dad is dyslexic so that went slowly.
Dad’s father Will named his beneficiary a “child of mine” 57 times. Still, a federal judge and the Second Circuit Court said Dad did not qualify as he was not considered a “child” because his parents were not married (2008-2013). We performed a DNA test in 2019 and found that Dad has a famous and rare DNA, “Kohanim,” found among Jews. Genealogists hypothesize that the Kennedy family is of Jewish descent. A genealogist in 2020 says that my father’s birth certificate is not real. Nevertheless, Dad finished his book and is now beyond the point of doubt. It is time to present his case to the world for a just result. Whatever you think of Dad, John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe deserve your attention (for all the good they have done) if their son needs help.
I had a girlfriend for nine years who was impressed because I was able to have a job, friends, and a good relationship, and to remain normal when others would have been ridiculed and driven mad. (I married the girl I fell in love with twenty-some years later.) Recently, however, I am facing ridicule and condemnation. Nevertheless, I present my case to you, the reader.
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