What Happened to Ethel Kennedy’s 2 Children Who Tragically Died?

Ethel Kennedy faced unimaginable heartbreak throughout her life. Among the many tragedies she endured was the sudden loss of two of her sons. Take a closer look at the heartbreaking deaths of David and Michael Kennedy.

Ethel Kennedy, the wife of the late Senator Robert F. Kennedy, was a prominent figure in American history, known for her unwavering commitment to social justice and her strength in the face of family tragedies.

Ethel and Robert F. Kennedy boarding a plane for San Juan, Puerto Rico, in March 1966. | Source: Getty Images

Born into a political dynasty, she married into one of the most iconic American families. She and Robert raised 11 children, navigating both the highs of public service and the lows of personal loss.

Despite her remarkable resilience, Ethel was no stranger to heartache, having tragically lost two of her sons — David and Michael Kennedy — in sudden and devastating circumstances.

Ethel Kennedy at the Restore Ball in New York City on September 28, 1970. | Source: Getty Images

David, the fourth of Ethel’s children, led a life deeply affected by trauma. At just 13 years old, he witnessed the assassination of his father on live television, an event that haunted him for the rest of his life.

Despite his promising beginnings, the emotional toll of his father’s death led David down a path of addiction. On April 25, 1984, he was found dead in his hotel room in Palm Beach, Florida, at 28.

David and Chris Kennedy watching a tennis match with their cousin, Ted Kennedy Jr., on August 25, 1974. | Source: Getty Images

He had struggled with drug and alcohol addiction for many years, and while his cause of death wasn’t immediately clear, investigators eventually ruled out suicide.

There were ”no signs of foul play,” said Sergeant Henry L. Marchman, spokesman for the Police Department of Palm Beach. The results of a preliminary autopsy tonight were being studied, as officials suspected it was an accidental overdose.

David Kennedy at the Democratic National Convention on July 15, 1976, in New York. | Source: Getty Images

David, who resided in Boston, traveled to Palm Beach to visit his grandmother, Rose Kennedy, who was in poor health. His body was discovered by a hotel secretary, Elizabeth Barnett, around 11:30 a.m. after a family member called to check if he had left for his flight.

When there was no response from his room phone, the hotel staff were instructed to investigate, according to hotel spokesman Gerald H. Beebe Jr.

David Kennedy in New York in 1984. | Source: Getty Images

The spokesman noted that hotel staff had seen David the previous Tuesday, describing him as being in good spirits. A desk clerk even recalled him waving as he passed the front desk.

David’s uncle, Senator Edward Kennedy, reflected on his nephew’s troubled life, stating, “We all pray that David has finally found the peace that he did not find in life.” The Kennedy family were no strangers to tragedy and mourned deeply, but the heartbreak did not end there.

Members of the Kennedy family escorted by Ethel Kennedy carrying the casket of David Kennedy from the hearse to the Kennedy House on May 4, 1984. | Source: Getty Images

Thirteen years later, in 1997, another devastating blow struck Ethel when her son Michael died in a skiing accident. Known for his adventurous spirit, Michael was skiing in Aspen, Colorado, when he collided with a tree, resulting in his immediate death at 39.

Michael Kennedy and Vicky Gifford at Attorney Roy Cohn’s birthday party in New York City on February 22, 1981. | Source: Getty Images

Michael had faced controversy in the years leading up to his death due to an alleged affair with the family’s babysitter. The scandal even affected his brother Joseph P. Kennedy II’s political aspirations.

I can’t get 2 hours of sleep at night because of My never-helping husband. Now I decided to…

I’ve always imagined motherhood as a beautiful journey filled with tender moments and sweet lullabies. But reality hit hard after the birth of our baby girl. Our little angel is my world, yet the sleepless nights and endless chores quickly became a nightmare.

My husband, who was supposed to be my partner in this journey, turned out to be more of an absentee father. Whenever I asked for his help, he’d dismiss me with, “Let me relax, my paternity leave is so short.”

Our baby girl wouldn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time. Each night, I found myself rocking her back to sleep, pacing the floor while my husband lounged on the couch, engrossed in his TV shows. The sleep deprivation became so severe that I started nodding off while cooking or doing laundry.

The Breaking Point
Last Saturday was supposed to be a special day. We had planned a family gathering to introduce our baby to everyone. It was a beautiful day filled with laughter and joy, but my exhaustion overshadowed everything. At one point, I felt so weak that I literally passed out from sheer fatigue. When I came to, I was expecting concern, maybe even some empathy from my husband. Instead, he was annoyed. His main concern was that I had embarrassed him, making it seem like he wasn’t taking care of us.

I couldn’t even muster a response. I was too exhausted to argue, so I dragged myself to bed, leaving him to his grievances. The next morning, he ignored both me and the baby, sulking because, in his mind, I didn’t care about his feelings since I didn’t stay up to discuss the previous day’s events. That was the moment I realized I was done. I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt a surge of anger and was on the brink of a breakdown. I was ready to confront him, to let out all my frustration, but just then, the doorbell rang.

An Unexpected Visitor
The doorbell rang, breaking the tense silence in our home. I went to open it, expecting a neighbor or a delivery. Instead, I saw my mother standing there, a look of concern etched on her face. She had come unannounced, probably sensing that something was wrong. She took one look at my haggard appearance and the disarray in our home and knew something was terribly amiss.

Slowly but surely, things began to improve. I started to feel like myself again, no longer drowning in exhaustion and resentment. Our baby girl thrived in the loving environment, and our home became a place of peace and joy once more.

This experience taught me the importance of standing up for myself and seeking help when needed. It also showed me the strength of a mother’s love, capable of bridging even the deepest divides. While our journey is far from over, I am hopeful that we will continue to grow and support each other as a family, one step at a time.

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