For years, the enduring public image of Ethel Kennedy was as the stoic widow of Sen. Robert F. Kennedy, who marked the passing years kneeling with their many children at her husband’s grave in Arlington National Cemetery, near that of his brother, President John F. Kennedy.

She was pregnant with their 11th child when the senator was shot June 5, 1968, at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles moments after declaring victory in the California presidential Democratic primary. It was Ethel who calmly pushed back the surging crowd to give her dying husband air.

With her husband’s brother, Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, Ethel helped establish the advocacy organization now known as Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights, in 1968. Its mission grew from finding creative solutions to poverty and political disenfranchisement in the U.S. to funding humanitarian and human rights projects around the world.

Kennedy, who lived much of her life in her husband’s shadow, died Thursday, her family said, according to the Associated Press. She was 96.

Kennedy had been hospitalized after suffering a stroke in her sleep on Oct. 3.

“It is with our hearts full of love that we announce the passing of our amazing grandmother,” Joe Kennedy III posted on X. “She died this morning from complications related to a stroke suffered last week.”

The burden of loss she shouldered was enormous. Her parents and a brother were killed in separate plane crashes and, decades later, two of her sons died early deaths — one from a drug overdose, another in a freak skiing accident.

But a Catholic faith so strong that she once seriously contemplated becoming a nun helped sustain her. When her future husband heard of her quandary, he is said to have quipped, “I’ll compete with anyone, but how can I compete with God?”

Because of her religious beliefs, she never considered remarrying, according to friends.

“How could I possibly do that with Bobby looking down from heaven? That would be adultery,” Ethel told friends who suggested she marry again, People magazine reported in 1991.

Her husband’s sister, the late Eunice Kennedy Shriver, and others gave another reason.

“I don’t believe,” Shriver told People in 1998, “she ever thought any other man was as good as Bobby,” whom Ethel had married in 1950.

Friends said Ethel was more Kennedy than many born with the name — she truly loved politics and campaigning and, when her husband was assassinated, she presented a gallantly brave face to the world, much as President Kennedy’s widow Jackie had.

Privately, Ethel was overwhelmed with grief after her husband’s death and retreated to Hickory Hill, the McLean, Va., estate once owned by President Kennedy.

By most accounts, she struggled to raise so many children by herself. More than 17 years separated her eldest child, Kathleen, and her youngest, Rory, born about six months after her father died. Ethel’s enduring grief only intensified the task.

Her mood “swept from deep private despair to manic irritability to frenetic highs of ceaseless activity,” Laurence Leamer wrote in the 1994 biography “The Kennedy Women.”

The household in the 1970s was routinely described as a three-ring circus filled with rowdy kids, lost pets and haggard servants who often quit in frustration, saying Ethel was difficult to work for. Barbara Gibson, longtime secretary of Ethel’s mother-in-law, Rose Kennedy, once said the children “ran rampant.” Several struggled with substance abuse.

The three eldest boys — Joseph, Robert Jr. and David — bore the brunt of their mother’s “capricious temperament,” Leamer wrote. Her handling of the rebellious teenagers had an angry quality, as if their behavior were an insult to their father’s memory, friends later said.

Her ninth child, Max, said his mother meted out discipline in her own way, through healthy competition.

“If we were out sailing, we’d have more fun than anyone else in the harbor,” Max told People in 1998. “If we were memorizing a poem, we’d try to memorize as best as we possibly could.”

Ethel Skakel was born April 11, 1928, in Chicago into a family not unlike the Kennedys — big, boisterous, Catholic and rich. She was the sixth of seven children of George Skakel and his cheerful wife, Ann.

Her father owned the Great Lakes Carbon Corp., a coal brokerage that became one of the largest privately held corporations in America. Growing up, she mainly lived on a large estate in Greenwich, Conn.

At what was then Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart, a school for women in New York, she roomed in 1945 with Jean Kennedy, who soon introduced her brother Robert to Ethel during a ski trip. He casually dated her bookish sister, Pat, before he turned to the outgoing Ethel.

After graduating with a degree in history in 1949, 22-year-old Ethel married Robert, then 24 and a law student at the University of Virginia.

With Ethel at his side, the sensitive Robert “blossomed,” his sister Eunice later said.

In “Robert Kennedy and His Times” (1978), historian Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. said the marriage “was the best thing that could have happened” for Robert.

“Her enthusiasm and spontaneity delighted him. Her jokes diverted him. Her social gifts offset his abiding shyness. … Her passion moved him. Her devotion offered him reassurance and security,” Schlesinger wrote.

As a Washington hostess, the spirited Ethel was known for her pranks, especially pool dunkings of well-heeled guests. Her collection of animals could outnumber her children and included a wandering armadillo that broke up tea parties and a pet hawk that once landed on the wig of a politician’s wife.

During the devastating aftermath of President Kennedy’s assassination in 1963, she later recalled that she and her husband never really considered pulling out of politics. Robert successfully ran for the U.S. Senate from New York in 1964, and Ethel strongly urged him to run for president.

In the midst of tense talks on the subject, she and their children rolled down a banner from the upstairs window that read “Kennedy for President” and played “The Impossible Dream” on the record player. The song became the campaign’s theme.

Even as a young widow — she was 40 when Robert died — Ethel vowed to spend the rest of her life honoring her husband’s memory, according to “The Kennedy Women,” and to keep living at Hickory Hill. When she put the estate on the market in 2003, Frank Mankiewicz, who was Robert Kennedy’s press secretary, compared it to “selling Mount Vernon.” It sold for more than $8 million in 2010.

At Hickory Hill, her children’s days had brimmed with well-planned activities, Brad Blank, a close friend of her children, told Vanity Fair in 1997. There was tennis at 9 a.m., sailing at 11 a.m., a full baseball game with 18 players at 3 p.m. every day.

“Dinner was promptly at 7,” Blank said. “Ethel would sit at the head of the table, and Joe, or whoever the eldest one was, would sit at the other. There was lots of conversation, and no lack of attention from their mother.”

Yet calamity and heartbreak often seemed to be around the corner.

In 1973, son Joseph, then 20, was charged with reckless driving when his Jeep overturned, severely crippling a passenger. Eleven years later, David — the child who seemed most haunted by his father’s death and had battled drugs for years — was found dead of a drug overdose in a Florida motel room.

Her son Michael, who ran the nonprofit Citizens Energy Corp. and had been in the news for having an affair with his children’s teenage baby sitter, was killed in 1997 during a dangerous game of touch football, played while skiing down an Aspen slope. He was 39.

Nephew John F. Kennedy Jr. died, with his wife and sister-in-law, when the plane he was flying crashed in 1999 in the Atlantic Ocean. They were en route to her daughter Rory’s wedding.

Granddaughter Saoirse Kennedy Hill — daughter of Courtney Kennedy Hill — was found dead of an accidental overdose in August 2019 at the Kennedy family compound in Hyannis Port, Mass. She was 22. Less than a year later, another granddaughter, Maeve Kennedy Townsend McKean, and her 8-year-old son drowned in a canoeing accident in the Chesapeake Bay.

Another nephew, Michael Skakel, was convicted in 2002 of the 1975 murder of Martha Moxley, a 15-year-old neighbor, and served 11 years in prison before his conviction was overturned in 2013 and later vacated.

In the wake of grief or catastrophe, Kennedy relied on her faith to hold herself together, those close to her said. She attended Mass daily and typically tried to stay active — swimming, playing golf or engaging in charity work.

Many of her children committed themselves to public service.

Kathleen Kennedy Townsend served as lieutenant governor of Maryland from 1995 to 2003. Joseph Kennedy II spent a dozen years in the U.S. Congress. Kennedy Hill became a human rights activist. Kerry Kennedy is a lawyer and president of the RFK Center for Justice and Human Rights.

Son Christopher Kennedy helped run the Merchandise Mart, the downtown Chicago trade center started by his paternal grandfather. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. became a lawyer and noted environmentalist who also promoted anti-vaccine propaganda during the pandemic, while Max, also a lawyer, co-founded the Urban Ecology Institute in Boston.

Her 10th child, Douglas, became a broadcast journalist and her youngest, Rory, a documentary filmmaker whose 2012 project, “Ethel,” focused on her parents’ relationship. In the film, her children laughingly remember their mother as a force of nature who made them aware of the needs of the broader world when their father was no longer there.

Ethel’s good works included the Bedford Stuyvesant Restoration Project in New York City that had been important to her husband. She also raised money for Earth Conservation Corps, which sponsors environmental cleanup programs; co-chaired the Coalition of Gun Control; worked with various human rights organizations; and hosted fundraisers for political and other causes. In 2014, she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President Obama.

In her daughter’s documentary, Ethel conceded that she had endured “a lot of loss” but added: “Nobody gets a free ride. … So you have your wits about you and dig in and do what you can.”

The influx of Haitian migrants into the U.S. has become a major political issue in recent months, as both former President Trump and Sen. J.D. Vance repeated claims about the impact they are having on towns like Springfield, Ohio. 

It has become a political issue in part due to the Biden administration’s parole processes for four nationalities — Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua and Venezuela. Under that program, migrants can arrive in the United States and be given a two-year parole term, along with temporary work permits.

Some of those are eligible for protection from deportation by the redesignation of Haiti for Temporary Protected Status by the Biden administration this summer. 

MAYORKAS MOVES TO SHIELD HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS FROM DEPORTATION BACK TO TROUBLED CARIBBEAN NATION

The Biden administration announced on Friday that it will not be extending those parole periods for any of the four nationalities, meaning they will have to apply for a different immigration status or leave the country.

Why has it become an election issue?

The impact that the influx of migrants has had on some towns in the U.S. has become a 2024 election issue after it was put into the spotlight by former President Trump. Most notably, Trump repeated claims that migrants have been eating cats and dogs in Springfield Ohio, which officials have denied. 

“In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs, the people that came in, they’re eating the cats,” Trump said. “They’re eating the pets of the people that live there. And this is what’s happening in our country, and it’s a shame.”

But others have pointed to the impact it has had on social services.

Vance recently said that he does not consider those who come through via the parole programs to be legal immigrants as he sees the programs as illegal. Here is what to know about Haitian migration into the U.S.

VANCE SAYS HE WILL KEEP CALLING HAITIAN MIGRANTS ‘ILLEGAL ALIENS’ DESPITE PAROLE STATUS 
 

How many Haitian immigrants are in the U.S.?

There are approximately 1,152,604 Haitian immigrants residing in the US according to the U.S. Census Bureau’s 2023 American Community Survey (ACS).

That is up from nearly 731,000 Haitian immigrants in 2022.

Where are they living?

Florida has the largest Haitian population in the U.S., at about 511,621 individuals, while New York’s population is a distant 2nd with 196,698 individuals. Massachusetts has 72,677 and New Jersey has 69,069.

The top four counties for Haitian immigrants were Broward, Miami-Dade, and Palm Beach counties in Florida, and Kings County in New York. Together, these counties accounted for 41 percent of Haitian immigrants in the United States.

Meanwhile, in Springfield, officials estimate that between 12,000 and 20,000 Haitians live in the city.

More broadly on the CHNV program, during an eight-month period from January through August 2023, roughly 200,000 migrants flew into the U.S. via the program from all four nationalities. Of those, 80% of them, (161,562) arrived in the state of Florida in four cities: Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Orlando and Tampa Bay, according to DHS data obtained via a subpoena by the House Homeland Security Committee and provided to Fox News.

What has the Biden administration done?

The Biden administration expanded the CHNV program to include Haitians in January 2023 and since then, 214,000 Haitians have entered the U.S. under the program. Recipients are given a two-year parole and a work permit if they have a sponsor and pass certain background checks.

However, the administration announced this month that it will not be extending those paroles beyond that period, meaning Haitians and others protected under the program will have to find another immigration status or potentially leave the country.

The Biden administration, however, has also redesignated and extended Temporary Protected Status (TPS), which protects designated migrant groups from deportation and allows work permits, until February 2026. 

CLICK HERE FOR MORE COVERAGE OF THE BORDER SECURITY CRISIS

To be eligible, Haitians must have been in the U.S. as of June 3. DHS predicts that it will allow an estimated 309,000 additional nationals to file for TPS, on top of those already protected.

TPS grants protection to nationals in countries found to be unsafe for them to be returned and is based on three grounds: armed ongoing conflict, environmental disasters or “extraordinary and temporary conditions.” 

“Several regions in Haiti continue to face violence or insecurity, and many have limited access to safety, health care, food, and water. Haiti is particularly prone to flooding and mudslides, and often experiences significant damage due to storms, flooding, and earthquakes. These overlapping humanitarian challenges have resulted in ongoing urgent humanitarian needs,” DHS said in a release.

It has led to concerns from conservatives that the revoking of parole status will not lead to significant numbers of Haitians leaving the U.S. after their status expires.

Sixteen years ago, the late journalist Gwen Ifill appeared on David Letterman’s “Late Show” and touted a group of emerging Black politicians, including a little-known district attorney from San Francisco who she described as a tough and brilliant prosecutor who “doesn’t look anything like anybody you ever see on ‘Law & Order.’”

“They call her the female Barack Obama,” Ifill said. “People aren’t very imaginative about these things anymore.”

Ifill’s sheepish comparison helped catapult Kamala Harris’ profile and gave her new credibility. Suddenly, national reporters were flying into the Bay Area. Donors, eager to get in early on the next Obama, crowded her fundraisers.

But the Obama label also was a burden, one that Harris still carries. During her primary run in the 2020 presidential contest and through some of her tenure as vice president, the comparison fueled questions over whether she could live up to the hype.

“In some respects, the comparisons are right,” said Ashley Etienne, who served previously as Harris’ vice presidential communications director. “What’s unfortunate is it doesn’t give those politicians room to be themselves. The constant comparison is overwhelming and exhausting.”

Just ask any basketball player declared Michael Jordan 2.0 or a singer who is dubbed Taylor Swift redux. Many become draft-day busts or one-hit wonders. And even those who succeed often find it hard to overcome the weight of expectations.

“The whole idea of ‘The Next’ anyone is foolish, but we do it all the time,” said David Axelrod, Obama’s New York-born former strategist, who can still tick off all the supposed heirs to Yankees great Mickey Mantle. “Obama was a singular talent in a particular moment in time.”

Axelrod calls the comparisons “lazy and glib and insulting.”

This week, Obama will make the first of several appearances for Harris’ presidential campaign, holding a rally in Pittsburgh. He remains the Democratic Party’s top star and one of the biggest draws in politics.

He and Harris are longtime political allies. They met when he held a California fundraiser for his 2004 U.S. Senate run, according to Debbie Mesloh, Harris’ communications director for her district attorney campaign that year, her first run for elected office.

Obama helped Harris raise money in 2005 to retire campaign debt. Their bond was cemented in 2008, when Harris broke with the establishment by endorsing Obama for president over Hillary Clinton, giving him crucial early backing when he was still an underdog.

Harris also was one of the few down-ballot politicians he helped in 2010, when she ran for California attorney general and he was president. That was the year Democrats took, as Obama put, a “shellacking” in congressional elections.

The two shared a more awkward encounter in 2013, when Obama introduced Harris at a fundraiser as the “best-looking attorney general in the country,” prompting Obama to apologize for a remark that did not land well with Harris’ inner circle.

Still, “they always had an affinity for each other because they are so much alike,” Mesloh said. “Anyone who’s grown up being different in some sort of way reflects on that experience and I think it’s a necessary part of sort of surviving.”

Both are trailblazing politicians, mixed-raced children with unusual names, whose biographies epitomize the nation’s changing face. Harris’ parents were born in India and Jamaica; Obama’s father was born in Kenya. Neither came from wealth and both had to defy doubters to become their party’s standard-bearer.

The comparison between them, however, goes only so far.

Obama made his name with soaring oratory about a collective opportunity to fulfill America’s promise and a memoir that was deeply introspective about his role in that fight. He learned politics as a community organizer in Chicago, from the outside in.

Harris came up politically from the inside, as a prosecutor and state attorney general who tried to balance the demands of outside activists with the responsibilities of representing the establishment and the need to court police unions. She is averse to public introspection, spending far more time in her memoir reciting autobiographical details than dissecting them.

And her speeches, although designed to uplift, have been aimed at making the case that she will not be too transformative.

“I will be a president who unites us around our highest aspirations,” she said at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. “A president who leads and listens, who is realistic, practical and has common sense.”

Her attempts at Obama-style rhetoric have often fallen flat. “You exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you,” has become a favorite line to mock among her detractors, who say her more philosophical appeals amount to word salad.

Mesloh believes Harris’ natural rhetorical style is more lawyerly, when she can deliver a methodical case as if cross-examining a witness in front of a jury. But she has also seen Harris connect in more personal ways to people who lost loved ones in homicides, who often demanded to speak with her directly.

Harris is hardly the only politician to get the “Next Obama” treatment. Ifill, back in 2008, named several other Black politicians, including Sen. Cory Booker of New Jersey, who was then the mayor of Newark, and then-Rep. Artur Davis of Alabama, who is no longer in politics. More recently, Maryland Gov. Wes Moore has been compared to Obama, as has Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro, a rare white politician to earn a mention.

“It’s one of those comparisons that is helpful when people are saying it about you or your candidate, but it’s not necessarily the type of thing that she or someone on her staff would feel comfortable going around outwardly advertising,” said Brian Brokaw, who led Harris’ 2010 attorney general campaign.

Harris brushed off Obama comparisons in a Politico story that speculated about her presidential ambitions just weeks after she won statewide office for the first time.

“It’s flattering,” she told the outlet. But “these comparisons make me uncomfortable because I know what I want to do. I am really excited about being attorney general.”