Whoa....I heard the water was shallow but had no idea. Ted must have really been in 'shock' not to help Mary Jo. /s
What a POS.
In 1979 when he was trying to ramp up a run for President, his handlers escorted him to the Nostalgia Ristorante at Palumbo's, the famous political nightclub in the narrow streets of South Philadelphia's Little Italy where Frank Sinatra and Frank Rizzo used to hang out. Eight or ten neighborhood locals assembled on the corner across the street to catch a glimpse of him, and when he approached us to shake hands, several of us just automatically put out our hands just as a courteousy.
Ted Kennedy had a handshake like a dead fish, and a clinically depressed, deer-in-the-headlights facial expression. I will never forget locking eyes with him and seeing that vacant, almost fearful expression, and feeling that cold, limp, damp hand from a man so large. This was before my political awareness had fully kicked in, so I had met him with an open mind, but was completely astonished and repulsed by his demeanor.
As he turned to go, one of my neighbors, a small-time Italian-American bookie, yelled out, "He can't save one girl from drownin' — how da f**k is he gonna save da country?"
Teddy's handlers put their arms around his back and whisked him away. We all started snickering and chortling under our breaths, trying to suppress it to be polite; but I have to say, it was just spontaneous, not any kind of an organized demonstration whatsoever. Even in a mostly Democrat working-class South Philly neighborhood -- anywhere outside of Massachusetts -- people saw through this gargoyle who had been protected and propped up by the shamelessly corrupt media.