Three Widows

Despite well-wishing friends and sympathetic strangers, Christmas could only be a day of haunting memories for the three women whose lives were forever changed by the events in Dallas on Nov. 22. Of them, Jacqueline Kennedy probably came closest to having what might be described as a "normal" holiday.

First, she ventured out of her borrowed Palm Beach home with Caroline and John Jr. to buy a few gifts. In the past, such an expedition might merely have turned heads. But last week a compulsively curious crowd gathered as she browsed in Worth Avenue stores. It became so thick that further shopping was impossible.

Inevitable Reminder. The rest of Jackie's purchases were made by phone or by friends, and on Christmas morning all was ready. Spying his gifts beneath a 12-ft. tree, John-John tore into them without further ceremony, and the room was soon abuzz and awhir with the sounds of a helicopter, some airplanes and a toy boat. Somewhat more sedately, Caroline opened presents described by a family friend as "girl's toys," plus a bright red fire engine from Lucy Baines Johnson. From King Hassan of Morocco, whom she visited in October, Jackie accepted a century-old stone house in Marrakech, complete with servants' quarters, stables, gardens. She drove to a family Mass at Joseph Kennedy's home, a mile and a half away, later exchanged more gifts. Earlier in the week there had come an inevitable reminder of her husband: his will, probated in Boston, divided an estate estimated at $10 million into two trust funds, one for Jackie and the other for the two children.

Whatever Recompense. Hundreds of miles away, Marie Tippit, widow of the Dallas policeman who was shot to death while trying to question Kennedy's assassin, spent the pre-Christmas weekend decorating a tree at home with her three children, Allen, 14, Brenda, 10, and Curtis, 5. But on Christmas Day she left Dallas for visits to the outlying homes of her parents and her husband's parents. The trip was marred by a minor but upsetting auto accident, in which Mrs. Tippit cut her head. For whatever recompense it was worth, mail sacks filled with contributions to the Tippit family were continuing to pile up at Dallas police headquarters. By Christmas, the fund had reached $405,300, and seemed certain to go above half a million.

Heartful Sincerity. Strangely enough, for Russian-born Marina Oswald, 22-year-old widow of Kennedy's assassin, this Christmas--and perhaps only this Christmas--seemed "wonderful." Life with Lee Harvey Oswald had always been hard and unpredictable. But last week, after the seclusion imposed upon her by the Secret Service, she became radiant over the opportunity to attend a midnight Christmas Mass and to enjoy a glittering tree surrounded by donated gifts. Inside the 20 large boxes were clothes and toys, including 15 dolls for two-year-old June and two-month-old Rachel. Marina visited with her brother-in-law, Robert Oswald, made a brief trip to her husband's grave on the outskirts of Fort Worth, and asked that a simple stone be placed above it. Well-wishers have donated $23,000 to help her rebuild her life, and with grateful sincerity, Marina Oswald could say that "I've never had a Christmas like this before, and I probably never will again."

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