He stopped at the side of the road for a short time, confused by the route ahead, physically or morally. He should have given more thought to the darkness and rain that July night in 1969, and to the slightly confusing layout of the road connecting the island of Chappaquiddick to Edgartown on the mainland of Massachusetts. Ted probably didn’t think too much about his mother, who owned the car he was now driving, or the family chauffeur he’d left back at the party. He may still have been thinking happily of the party he’d just left behind, where five other married men like himself were partying with five of Mary Jo’s young, single female friends, with alcohol flowing freely. And perhaps he assumed that she would want to spend some time with him: the scion of America’s legendary political dynasty. In the prominent senator’s mind, it was only natural to want some time alone with her. Mary Jo Kopechne was a charming rising star among his cadre of young staff- ers. It wasn’t just lust, he may have told himself. We can guess he was acutely aware of having a smart, athletic twenty-eight-year-old woman in the passenger seat beside him in the car. We don’t know exactly what went through thirty-seven-year-old Senator Ted Kennedy’s mind the night of the Chappaquiddick crash. — - Excerpted from THE SWAMP: Washington's Murky Pool of Corruption, Cronyism and How Trump Can Drain It by Eric Bolling, with permission from St.
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