Sixty Years Ago: Third Polaris Submarine a First for Newport News Shipbuilding, and the Confederacy

By M.C. Farrington
HRNM Historian


The past is not set in stone.

Nothing epitomizes this as much as the ways in which the leading figures of the Confederacy have been interpreted in vastly different ways by the generations born after the Civil War.  Viewed as rebels and pirates during the war and handled with a deliberate policy of non-recognition by the War and Navy Departments of Abraham Lincoln's administration, by the mid-20th Century an aura of genteel respectability had somehow alighted upon Confederate leaders in American popular culture; the same leaders who had sought to carve their own nation out of American territory a century earlier.

On the rainy morning of December 18, 1959, shipyard workers prepare for the launching ceremony of USS Robert E. Lee (SSBN 601) at Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company. At left is the attack submarine Shark (SSN 591), which would be launched three months later.  The Polaris submarine program was such a high priority when Robert E. Lee was ordered in 1958 that Shark's original hull and reactor plant was snagged by shipyard engineers, renamed and lengthened from 252 to 381 feet to accommodate 16 of the solid-fueled tactical nuclear missiles. (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

The revisionists of a century ago managed to rehabilitate those figures in the public imagination, foremost among them Colonel Robert Edward Lee, who resigned from the U.S. Army after his home state of Virginia seceded from the Union and was promoted to general by the Confederate authorities in Richmond who were impressed by his ability to lead their armed struggle against the U.S. Army.  Decades after his death in 1870, five years after he was indicted for treason by a federal grand jury in Norfolk, Lee was effectively recast as a great uniter by his many admirers.

Monuments to the man were erected throughout the former Confederate states and beyond, and his statue even joined those of other honored American luminaries in Statuary Hall within the United States Capitol in 1909 after the Virginia General Assembly picked him and George Washington to represent the Commonwealth there.

Today there is a movement afoot within the Virginia General Assembly to remove the statue.  Protests throughout the summer of 2017 in the wake of the Charlottesville City Council's initiative to remove another one of Lee's statues near the University of Virginia culminated in deadly riots that August, shocking the nation. 

Elected representatives within Virginia aren't the only ones taking a dim view of Lee and his legacy.  Those in the historical profession today such as Jonathan Horn, whose recent warts-and-all biography of Lee was entitled The Man Who Would Not Be Washington, have taken more of a originalist stance towards Lee.  Other up-and-comers in the field have shown much greater contempt for Lee, openly calling him a traitor.

The cover of the launching program for the nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarine Robert E. Lee (SSBN 601). (Dale Hargrave via Navsource.org)

Sixty years ago, nothing could have been further removed from the sentiment of those launching USS Robert E. Lee (SSBN 601), especially the Polaris ballistic missile submarine's sponsor, Lee's granddaughter (and widow of WWI hero Lt. Gen. Hanson E. Ely) Anne Carter Lee-Ely.  The matron of honor was one of Lee's great granddaughters, and the maid of honor for the ceremony was one of Lee's great-great granddaughters. Robert E. Lee was the third of the George Washington-class to be launched, but the first constructed in a former state of the Confederacy.

The decision to name one of America's premier tools of strategic defense after someone who foreswore his allegiance to the nation would probably be met with vehement opposition today in Congress, which has historically set the rules regarding the naming of naval vessels.  However, it was not technically prohibited by Congress until just last week, when New York Congressman Gregory W. Meeks successfully attached an amendment to the Fiscal Year 2020 National Defense Authorization Act prohibiting such namings. According to his press release, Meeks declared, "Those we’ve entrusted to defend the union should not be serving on ships named after those who fought to undo it."

Incidentally, Robert E. Lee wasn't even technically an American citizen for the first decade of the ballistic missile submarine's operational patrols. His citizenship was posthumously restored by an act of Congress in July 1975.

USS Robert E. Lee (SSBN 601) departs Newport News Shipbuilding past the mostly-complete aircraft carrier USS Enterprise (CVAN 65) for sea trials in December 1960. She would conduct her first test launch of a Polaris missile that same month.  (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

Robert E. Lee, commissioned on September 16, 1960, was the only U.S. naval vessel ever to carry that name, quietly avoiding detection on deterrent patrols under the waves (and the stars and bars) for over two decades until finally being decommissioned on December 1, 1983. 

Only one of the five U.S. naval vessels named either for Confederate leaders or Confederate military victories remains in service, the guided missile cruiser USS Chancellorsville (CG 62), which was commissioned in 1989.

She was named for the greatest Civil War victory of Robert E. Lee.  

When Caroline Kennedy Last Christened a Ship in the Name of Her Father

A page from the USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) christening program contained in the Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis Personal Papers held by the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum.

By M.C. Farrington
HRNM Historian

There have been a number of new aircraft carriers that carried on the names of their predecessors: names such as Yorktown (CV 5 & CV 10), Hornet (CV 8 & CV 12), Lexington (CV 2 & CV 16), Wasp (CV 7 & CV 18) and Enterprise (CV 6 & CVN 65).  These were vessels named to commemorate great American victories or storied vessels of the past.  As time has gone on, the names of presidents and other notable figures in naval history have been added to new American flattops joining the fleet.  However, no president's name has been carried forward from an old carrier to a new one.*

On December 7, 2019, at Newport News Shipbuilding, a new American carrier was christened with the name of a president from a previous carrier for the very first time.  And, in what might be another first, the new carrier was christened by the same person who christened the old one at the same shipyard over 52 years ago.
Another detail of the ceremony turned out to be remarkably consistent with that person's first performance on May 27, 1967.

Caroline Kennedy, President John F. Kennedy's daughter, former ambassador to Japan, and sponsor of the Ford-class aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy (CVN 79), christens the ship on December 7, 2019. USS John F. Kennedy (CVN 79) was christened at Huntington Ingalls Industries' Newport News Shipbuilding (HII-NNS) division, in Newport News, Virginia. The aircraft carrier is named after John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th president of the United States, who served in office from January 1961 to November 1963. This is the second U.S. aircraft carrier named for President Kennedy, with the former being the last conventionally powered carrier, CV-67, which served from 1968 to 2007. (U.S. Navy photo 191207-N-PG550-1463 by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Samuel Lee Pederson/Released)

You might have read that Caroline Kennedy didn't quite score a clean break on the first try with a bottle of "American sparkling wine" on the bow of the new ship on December 7.  This was a clear-cut case of history repeating.  But why was she selected to christen USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) in the first place, when she was just nine years old?  The decision had as much to do with naval custom as it had to do with tragedy.

Lieutenant John F. Kennedy, USNR, (standing, far right) with other crewmen onboard USS PT-109 at a South Pacific Naval Base, 1943. (U.S. Information Agency Photograph 306-ST-649-9, now in the collections of the National Archives)

As a lieutenant junior grade during World War II, her father John Fitzgerald Kennedy fought bravely in the Pacific, sustaining serious injuries after the PT boat under his command was rammed by a Japanese destroyer in 1943.  After his meteoric rise after the war as a congressman and, later, senator from the state of Massachusetts, he edged out Vice President (and fellow former naval officer) Richard Nixon for the presidency in November 1960.  After a tumultuous tenure as president, during which he authorized naval assets to secretly support Cuban exiles attempting to invade and overthrow the Communist government of Cuba and later ordered a naval quarantine of the island when the Soviets secretly put troops and tactical nuclear missiles there in response, Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963 in Dallas, leaving Vice President Lyndon Baines Johnson (yet another former naval officer) as commander-in-chief.

Kennedy was unquestionably not afraid to put the Navy he led into harm's way, but he was also a strong advocate of the service.  After his death, President Johnson led the effort to name a modified Kitty Hawk-class carrier, authorized for construction during his predecessor's administration, for the fallen leader.  The keel for USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) was laid on October 22, 1964.  

As a matter of custom, as the carrier was nearing completion a significant member of President Kennedy's family would be invited to christen the vessel.

(Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis Personal Papers/ John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum)

In February 1967, Secretary of the Navy Paul Nitze sent Jacqueline Kennedy an invitation to sponsor the new carrier.  "Traditionally, a lady sponsors only one Navy ship; however, there have been exceptions to this custom," wrote Nitze.  "Though you christened the Polaris submarine, USS  LAFAYETTE, I am sure that I express the sentiment of the entire navy in urging you to christen the new carrier.  Should you prefer, your daughter, Caroline, may be designated."

In happier times: White House naval aide Capt. Tazewell T. Shepard and General Dynamics executive Roger Lewis look on as First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy christens USS Lafayette (SSBN 616) May 8, 1962 at Electric Boat, General Dynamics, in Groton, Connecticut. (Library of Congress via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

Indeed, Jacqueline Kennedy had christened USS Lafayette (SSBN 616) at General Dynamics Electric Boat shipyard in Groton, Connecticut, May 8, 1962. Less than two years later, however, her life, and the course of the nation's history, had been irrevocably changed by the assassination of her husband.  That tragic change impacted the way she felt towards attending another such event.

(Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis Personal Papers/ John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum)

In an early draft of the response Mrs. Kennedy sent Secreatry Nitze, she wrote, "That type of thing [the christening], remembering my husband, is very difficult for me."   But she then assured Nitze that someone from President Kennedy's family would attend the christening.

Overcoming her grief, Mrs. Kennedy decided upon having her daughter Caroline sponsor the ship, and on the morning of May 27, 1967, she accompanied the little girl and her son John F. Kennedy Jr. (along with approximately 15 immediate family members and their families) to the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock company.   

Writing for the Virginian-Pilot newspaper published in Norfolk, Virginia, reporter William K. Stevens observed, "Not since the 1963 funeral [of John F. Kennedy] had so many New Frontiersmen and relatives of John F. Kennedy been in one place at one time." Richard Cardinal Cushing, Archbishop of Boston, the same man who had blessed John F. Kennedy's marriage to Jacqueline L. Bouvier in 1953, given the invocation during his inauguration in 1961, and celebrated his funeral mass in 1963, was there to give the invocation for the christening.   

Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara escorts Jacqueline Kennedy, her son John Kennedy Jr., and her daughter Caroline (behind her brother) after arriving at Newport News Shipbuilding on May 27, 1967 (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

Caroline Kennedy was hardly the first in her family to christen a ship at the mammoth shipyard on the James River.  Her paternal grandmother Rose Kennedy had sponsored the Cimarron-class fleet oiler SS Esso Richmond at Newport News Shipbuilding in September 1939 (which was commissioned USS Kaskaskia (AO 27) the following year), and her aunt Patricia Kennedy had sponsored the President Jackson-class attack transport President Polk (AP 103) in June 1941. Another aunt, Ethel Kennedy (wife of then-Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy) had sponsored the Ethan Allen-class ballistic missile submarine John Marshall (SSBN 611) in May 1961.

Caroline Kennedy prepares to swing a bottle of champagne into the bow of the aircraft carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) at Newport News Shipbuilding under the guidance of Shipyard President Donald A. Holden on May 27, 1967 (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

In a ceremony timed down to the second, three warning whistles were to sound; the first a siren scheduled for 12:25 pm, with a whistle 30 seconds later and another 20 seconds after that.  With each siren or whistle blast, one of JFK's three initials would appear in lights on a giant board affixed to the bow.  Caroline was scheduled to smash the bottle against an angular protuberance affixed to the bow precisely on the third whistle blast scheduled for 12:26.

"Caroline, 9, stood in front of the bow of the mammoth attack aircraft carrier John F. Kennedy like a left-handed little leaguer at home plate," wrote Virginian-Pilot reporter Shirley Bolinaga, who was among the throngs of local and national news media to cover the event. 

As John Kennedy Jr. and Jacqueline Kennedy watch as Newport News Shipbuilding President Donald A. Holden helps Caroline Kennedy christen the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67). (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

The clock photographed behind the participants on the platform indicates that the event was running ahead of schedule, with Caroline taking her first swing at 12:09 and 55 seconds, and, unless a video of the event accessible online has been edited incorrectly, she attempted to break the bottle after the second blast. 

John Kennedy Jr. and Jacqueline Kennedy seem to react with dismay as Caroline Kennedy appears to have momentary trouble christening the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67). (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

"She held the bottle of Great Western champagne like a baseball bat and swung from the shoulder," wrote Bolinaga. "It hit with a clunk but it didn't break." 

After the bottle bounced off the angular rail affixed to the bow, Caroline tried again, striking home about three seconds later, sending bubbly in all directions, and sending the great ship into the James River.   

Caroline Kennedy christens the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) as her brother John Kennedy Jr., mother Jacqueline Kennedy, and Newport News Shipbuilding President Donald A. Holden react. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

"On the second try, the bottle, beribboned with red, white, and blue, shattered. Its bubbly contents splashed all over Caroline's aqua and white dress and red shoes, and splattered on her mother as Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy clapped her gloved hands together in front of her face," wrote Bolinaga.  "The mother and her children watched as the 61,450-ton ship was floated from Shipway 11 into the James River." 

Jacqueline Kennedy, her brother John Kennedy Jr., and daughter Caroline Kennedy watch the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) as she backs away from the christening platform. Note Newport News Shipbuilding President Donald A. Holden pointing out details to Caroline, who has just christened the vessel. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

Watched by thousands of guests and dignitaries such as President Lyndon B. Johnson, Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara and Secretary of the Navy Paul Nitze, the carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) backs away from the christening platform at Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company in Newport News, Virginia, on May 27, 1967. Note the board affixed to the bow spelling out the initials "J.F.K.," emulating John F. Kennedy's handwriting in electric lights. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

The aircraft carrier John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) backs away from the christening platform at Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company in Newport News, Virginia on May 27, 1967, as thousands of guests and dignitaries such as President Lyndon B. Johnson, Senators Robert. F. (Bobby) and Edward M. (Ted) Kennedy as well as Virginia Governor Mills E. Godwin look on. (Newport News Shipbuilding photograph/ Hampton Roads Naval Museum collection)

After her commissioning on September 7, 1968, USS John. F. Kennedy, the Navy's last conventionally-powered carrier, plunged headlong into the Cold War that dominated foreign policy during her namesake's administration, and those of the next four presidential administrations. Caroline Kennedy visited the ship at least once more during its active service, the first time when the carrier visited Boston in 1970.

Seen from an American escort, a Soviet Tu-95 Bear D maritime reconnaissance aircraft makes a close approach to USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) during her first foray into the Mediterranean in 1969.  (National Archives and Records Administration via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

The signing of the Paris Peace Accords in 1973 deprived Kennedy of a scheduled wartime deployment to Southeast Asia and a place in the history of the Vietnam War, but the carrier participated in continuous exercises and operations through war and peace, the last being during Operation Iraqi Freedom, with frequent visits and yard periods in Hampton Roads in between, until her decommissioning in 2007.  

A port bow view of the aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy (CV 67) coming down the Elizabeth River after leaving Norfolk Naval Shipyard on August 17, 1987. (Photographer's Mate 1st Class McCoy, National Archives and Records Administration image 330-CFD-DN-SC-88-05873 via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

Long after CV 67 was struck from the Naval Vessel Register in 2009, Caroline Kennedy was very much in active government service, having been appointed as ambassador to Japan by President Barak Obama, a post she held from 2013 to 2017.

U.S. Ambassador to Japan Caroline Kennedy pilots Naval Beach Unit Seven's Landing Craft, Air Cushion (LCAC) during a visit to NBU-7 Facilities in Sasebo, Japan, on October 7, 2016. The visit is part of a larger trip to Nagasaki Prefecture. (U.S. Navy Photo 161007-N-NY430-042 by Petty Officer 3rd Class Kristopher S. Haley via Naval History and Heritage Command/Flickr)

Although, sadly, her mother Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, who died of cancer in 1994, and her brother John F. Kennedy Jr., who died while flying his plane to Martha's Vineyard in 1999, were not there to witness it, Ambassador Caroline Kennedy once again visited Hampton Roads to take her place in christening a vessel that will represent her family, her father, and the nation he led, far into the future. 

"Christened by the hand of a child," said Secretary of Defense Robert. S. McNamara in his prepared remarks for the day of the original John F. Kennedy's commissioning over 52 years ago, "it will begin an odyssey whose final landfall we cannot clearly foretell."   



* Two American aircraft carriers were named for aviation pioneer Samuel Pierpoint Langley: USS Langley (CV 1), converted from the collier Jupiter at Norfolk Navy Yard between 1920-22, and USS Langley (CVL 27), an Independence-class light carrier, commissioned in 1943. USS Wright (CVL 49) was another Independence-class carrier constructed during World War II, but she was named for both brothers, whereas the previous USS Wright (AZ 1/AV 1), which served in several different aviation support roles after its commissioning in 1921, was only named for Orville Wright.

USS John F. Kennedy appears as CVA 67 in the early part of the story and CV 67 later on. The designation was changed in 1974.

120 Years Ago: The Redemptive Power of a Suicide Mission, Part 1

Richmond Hobson never quite fit in the Navy.

Midshipman Richmond Hobson, USNA, 1889. (Eleanor Cunningham)

According to historian William Garrott Brown, a fellow Alabaman who knew him before he departed for the United States Naval Academy, Hobson was usually “grave faced,” adding that “[h]is manner was stiff and formal; his conversation almost comically stilted.” He seemed incapable of small talk and never used icebreakers such as jokes or amusing personal anecdotes during the many speeches he would give during his lifetime.

His maxim, forged from a strict upbringing as the son of a judge, had been, “Do your whole duty every day.” That profoundly personal sense of duty led him to Annapolis in 1885, yet the way he carried himself and related to his fellow midshipmen there portended anything but a successful career ahead.

While many other midshipmen managed their duties and allegiances with fluidity, deciding whether to follow a particular order or regulation to the letter or report a peer who didn’t on a case-by-case basis, Hobson followed his orders with crystalline rigidity. His worldview had no shades of gray. He saw his duties and those of his peers in stark black and white. They were either carried out properly or improperly, honorably or dishonorably.  His meticulous reporting of the transgressions of other plebes quickly earned him ostracism from the Brigade of Midshipmen. It was said that only one other student there spoke to him (other than what was necessary in the performance of his duties) for two entire years.

Men like Hobson tend to excel at academics but struggle in environments requiring teamwork and cooperation. Today such a person might be found profoundly lacking in “emotional intelligence” and be steered away from a military career, where esprit de corps sometimes transcends regulations and orders. Although he never quite fit in at the academy (nor did he seem to care to), Hobson was by no means a misfit. He was a man of vision whose almost messianic zeal inspired those he led, somehow compensating for his inability to relate to them personally. “Throughout his life, Hobson placed himself in the forefront of movements that became, to him, crusades,” wrote biographer Walter Pittman. “Not only was he unafraid of the opposition to his ideas and of the ridicule they brought him, but Hobson seemed to almost welcome the opportunity to convince opponents of the error of their ways.”

Despite the fact that many in Annapolis evidently loathed the young crusader, Hobson graduated first in his class in 1889.

USS Chicago at anchor with other "New Navy" ships of the Squadron of Evolution in 1889. (National Archives and Records Administration, Still Picture Records Section, RG 19 via Wikimedia Commons)

Although he probably could have had his pick of assignments, Hobson rejected a career as a line officer, instead choosing the Naval Construction Corps. The next nine years were eventful, if unremarkable, as Hobson was selected for postgraduate training in England and France after his midshipman’s cruise aboard USS Chicago, flagship of the all-steel Squadron of Evolution, designed to test the concepts and doctrines of the “New Navy.” The experience had a great effect on him, as he emerged as a fierce advocate of removing all wood from naval vessels (which the Spanish navy failed to do and would pay dearly for it later). He became the first American to graduate with honors from the Ecole d’Application du Genie Maritime, another in a string of academic successes, which laid the groundwork for his selection as the first instructor of naval construction at Annapolis. He also proved himself a quick study as an observer in the Far East, sounding some of the first alarms about the rapidly modernizing navy of Japan.

Detail from a print of Newport News circa 1891, showing the Chesapeake Dry Dock and Construction Company (now known as Newport News Shipbuilding).  Its charter was approved by the General Assembly of Virginia on January 28, 1886.  The U.S. Navy first had ships refitted at the yard in 1889, but less than a decade later, no less than three modern steel warships were being built there at the same time. (Courtesy of Marcus Robbins/ Norfolk Naval Shipyard collection)

Hobson cemented a reputation for intellectual acumen, yet it was not yet clear whether he was actually a good naval architect in practice. The most embarrassing incident of his career occurred at Newport News Shipbuilding in 1897, where he failed to note casting flaws while helping oversee the construction of the battleship Kearsarge (BB 5). 

USS Kearsarge (BB 5) and USS Kentucky (BB 6) armor plan drafted in 1899, showing distribution of side and turret armor.  Both battleships were built at Newport News Shipbuilding and were launched on the same day, March 24, 1898. (Naval History and Heritage Command image)

Assistant Secretary of the Navy Theodore Roosevelt. (Dickinson State University)

He appealed the reprimand he received from Superintending Constructor Joseph Woodward all the way up to Assistant Secretary of the Navy Theodore Roosevelt, yet the reproof was upheld and Hobson was forced to undergo an examination on machine tool practice to prove his competency. 

By then, war clouds between the United States and Spain were on the horizon, and Hobson strongly lobbied the Navy secretary for sea duty. It remains unclear whether his argument that naval architects such as himself should not only be overseeing ship construction but should also be observing their performance in combat won the day, or if it was just that Woodward was more than happy to be rid of him. 

What was clear, at least to Hobson, was that the upcoming fight against Spain was the crusade he had been waiting for.