Pierre Salinger, France’s American

Unless you never read newspapers, never listen to the radio or watch television or are out hiking in the Himalayas, you undoubtedly are aware that Pierre Salinger, journalist, politician, musician but, above all, President John F. Kennedy’s high-profile press spokesman, passed away over the weekend at the age of 79. His death marks the departure of a really remarkable individual who was almost a living embodiment of the term, “Franco-American.” Some years ago, at a grandiose dinner in Versailles celebrating one or another landmark anniversary in Pierre’s professional life, I remember making a short speech describing him as someone considered by the French not as “an American, or the American but THEIR American in France. And so he was. He was for many years virtually omnipresent on the French scene. Although he was born in San Francisco, his mother was French and he spoke French fluently if not always flawlessly. At various times he was the American television network ABC’s Paris bureau chief. He was a correspondent and columnist for the French weekly news magazine “l’Express.” He was a fixture on French television and radio programs called up constantly to comment on one or another aspect of what the U.S. government was doing or what was going on in America. It was hard to find a French citizen who hadn’t heard, seen or heard of Pierre Salinger. Because my own career, like that of Pierre, includes a French wife, time as a journalist, as a press spokesman, as part of the White House staff and finally, the decision to reside permanently in France, our paths crossed a lot–in Moscow, in Sarajevo, in London, Washington and, of course, in Paris. A lot–an awful lot–of people justifiably can make this claim, but Pierre was a good friend. I had nowhere near his stature, his experience or his contacts. We weren’t on the phone to each other each day and often our friendship, depending on where our jobs were located at the moment, didn’t surpass annual Christmas cards. But when we were in the same town or even the same country, we and our wives frequently dined together at each other’s residences, sometimes formally, sometimes spontaneously just for pot luck or sandwiches. Chez Pierre, even for pot luck, that always included good wine good food, stimulating conversation and the omnipresence of his trade-mark cigars. Often, it also included, chez eux or chez nous a turn at the piano by Pierre, who had been a child prodigy on the concert stage from the age of six. One year when my wife and I were planning a U.S. vacation, the Salingers generously offered us use of their vacation home on the island of Nantucket which otherwise would have remained empty until their eventual arrival to join us. That stay included, with them when they turned up, a rather memorable speedboat ride far out to sea where we transferred to Senator Teddy Kennedy’s multi-masted schooner for a refreshing sail back to the island. Pretty heady stuff for us. Just another day at the office for Pierre, who, wherever he was, seemed to know and frequent everyone who was anyone on the local scene. When my wife, Christine, first heard of his death, her instant remark was that he had been a “grand homme,” a great man. As usual, she was right on. In recent years she and I visited Pierre and his wife, Nicole, nearly every September at their home near Avignon in Provence. Staunch Democrat that he was, he left the United States and settled permanently in France, in good measure as a protest gesture, after George W. Bush’s election as U.S. President in 2000. It was in Provence, at the end, that he was stricken with his fatal heart attack. During those years, Pierre’s health had declined steadily and visibly. At the start, he maintained a vigorous schedule of lectures and appearances throughout France and for guests at the Salinger home he remained a spellbinding storyteller about his experiences, one who, as a bonus, often would return to his piano to play again the repertoire of his youth. That pace slowed inevitably with time. He remained, however, someone you simply couldn’t forget if you met him. An instantly likeable “people-person” and a dedicated journalist at heart, his home in Provence abounded with a mountain of photographs, articles and books, by him and about him, most centered on his time with President Kennedy. He regularly followed the television news and had no shortage of opinions about how his own country and his adopted one were being run. We couldn’t visit him this year because we were marrying off our son elsewhere in France. So we failed to see him that one last time. We would have liked to do that not just because we were friends but also because we owed the Salingers a lot. We will miss him greatly, as will many, many others in both his countries. Editor’s note: Mr. Salinger will be buried in Arlington, VA. A memorial service will be held in Paris on Friday, November 5th. An accredited member of the foreign press corps, Minnesota native Robert (Bud) Korengold first came to Europe in 1955 after serving in the Korean war. A Chevalier in the order of Tastevin in Burgundy, the recipient of a Presidential Award for Sustained Superior Accomplishment in the conduct of foreign policy, and a member of the order of Palmes Academiques and the order of Arts et Lettres, he lives in Normandy doing a bit of gardening and a bit of writing and a lot of amused reflection about life in France and with the French.