Now, just about when most folks have forgotten her name, here's Judith Campbell Exner to clean it up from that...

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Now, just about when most folks have forgotten her name, here's Judith Campbell Exner to clean it up from that ""sensationalized"" ""media attack"" in 1975, when a Senate committee questioned her about CIA Castro assassination plots involving JFK, Frank S., and underworld jumbos Sam Giancana and Johnny Rosselli--all tagged as ""friends"" of the luscious Ms. Exner. Her own version will hardly lead to canonization. For a self-proclaimed ""one-man woman,"" Judy got busy once she'd ditched husband #1, a piggy-peacock actor, and Ol' Blue Eyes soon moved in, with his Jekyll-and-Hyde personality, his political dabbles (Sinatra pillow talk: ""I'll bet even money Jack gets the nomination""), and--horrors!--his interest in a girl-boy-girl threesome. Judy declined and soon found herself slavishly courted by both a Presidential candidate (married) and ""the most powerful archcriminal in the world"" (widowed). Sam G. got her steadfast loyalty and affection (she knew naught of his work), but the Mass. Senator got her body and soul--at the Plaza on New Hampshire Primary eve, at the Democratic Convention (Jack too yenned for a trio), and--yes, fans!--at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, with ""Camelot"" on the stereo, ""we talked, we dozed, we casually caressed."" (JFK pillow talk: ""Boy, if Teddy only knew, he'd be eating his heart out."") But ""the spectre of the White House killed the romance,"" and all that awaited was a brouhaha (strictly business) with Jerry Lewis, and the ubiquitous FBI, passionately interested in Sam & Johnny's doings. ""I was followed, hounded, harassed, accosted, spied upon, intimidated, burglarized. . . ."" She tried suicide, gave up her 1965 baby for adoption, and finally found Mr. Right--Mr. Exner. Judy's ready to prove her claims, with private JFK and Evelyn Lincoln phone numbers and every scrap of paper that passed betwixt the Prez & She. She's also ready to pass on assorted hostilities along with her ""good taste"" and huffy high tone: Peter Lawford--""no guts. . . an ass""; Lloyd Bridges--""narcissus in its most basic state""; backinjured JFK--""his attitude was that he was there to be serviced."" The ultimate kissand-tell, with, if not the ring of truth, the whine of verisimilitude.

Pub Date: July 21, 1977

ISBN: N/A

Page Count: -

Publisher: Grove Press--dist. by Random House

Review Posted Online: N/A

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1977

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