The courthouse in sleepy Norwalk, Connecticut, sees few high-profile cases, so Judge John Kavanewsky Jr. established special rules to preserve decorum during the trial of Michael Skakel. Martha Moxley, a 15-year-old resident of Greenwich, had been killed in 1975, but it wasn’t until 2002 that Skakel, who was invariably described as a “Kennedy cousin,” faced a jury for her murder. Reporters from around the world filled every seat in the courtroom, and the judge didn’t want the jury distracted by a lot of shuffling about in the audience. So Kavanewsky decreed that no one would be allowed to enter or leave the courtroom except during breaks in the testimony. I was in that courtroom, and I can attest that everyone followed the rules—except one person.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr., whose mother, Ethel, was the sister of Michael Skakel’s father, barged in on his own schedule, while court was in session. Then 48 and tall and handsome, with his family’s distinctive toothy grin, Kennedy drew every eye in the courtroom, including those of the jurors, as he squeezed into a seat near the defense table. Kennedy made this showy gesture of support twice, apparently believing that the judge’s rules didn’t apply to him.
