About 15 years ago, I was asked to drive Sen. Ted Kennedy and his wife Victoria from a labor union meeting at the Sheraton Bal Harbor to a fundraiser in Coral Gables. I can remember that 40-minute ride like it was yesterday. I introduced myself to the senator as I held the door for him and his wife. Two minutes into the car ride he said, ``With a name like Pat I have to ask what part of the country are you from?''

He meant Ireland, and he proceeded to ask about my heritage, family history and when our family immigrated to America. He seemed genuinely interested when I told him how my dad in 1960 had worked as a young committeeman in Long Island for his brother John's campaign.

He had a big smile on his face when I told him I still have a picture of me at 3 years old in my cousin's arms with a big Kids For Kennedy sign in the background. He roared with laughter when I told him I had memories of knocking on doors in 1968 in Glen Cove, N.Y. with his brother, Sen. Bobby Kennedy. He laughed when I told him my grandmother and all my Irish family in Ireland still had pictures on their mantles of President Kennedy.

It was a connection and conversation he had surely had with thousands of Irish Americans who all proudly lived a piece of the Kennedy history from when we were kids. More than anything it was an insight into a man who liked and cared about people. As we left the car, I said, ``Thank you, senator.'' He said, ``Call me Teddy.'' That car ride will be one I will remember forever.

PATRICK MORRIS,

Coral Gables

A good friend of mine and I met Ted Kennedy in 1960 as we marched in the St. Patrick's Day parade in Holyoke, Mass. He was the president's ``kid brother,'' and no one recognized him. He was polite, good looking, graciously shook my hand, and I wished him the best of luck.

In 1989 I was at the airport in Washington, D.C., for a return flight to Miami. My departure gate was opposite the arrival gate for an incoming flight from Boston. A well-dressed young man was standing in the concourse waiting for passengers from the Boston flight when I observed Sen. Kennedy among the deplaning passengers.

It was obvious that the young man was waiting for him. He approached Kennedy and handed him a packet of documents. Kennedy looked at the papers for a few seconds, then threw the entire package in the young fellow's face and angrily stormed off up the concourse. I and other passengers helped the young man pick up the papers, and I noticed tears of embarrassment in his eyes. I last observed him running up the concourse to catch up to the senator. I could not believe what I had just seen and that a U.S. senator would treat an aide in that manner.

So much for Mr. Nice Guy.

BILL HAYES, Miami

The reference to the ``lion'' as appeared in The Miami Herald's Aug. 27 editorial Ted Kennedy, heaping praise on the late senator, might be lacking a proper adjective as far as Mary Jo Kopechne's family is concerned: cowardly. Had help been sought the poor woman's life could have been saved.

Add to this sorry tale the poor treatment alloted to Ted's first wife, Joan, a beautiful, talented, intelligent woman who was found lying on the sidewalk outside one of the Kennedy compounds in the not too distant past. Her alcoholism was well publicized by someone who chose to break Alcoholics Anonymous' code of silence concerning its attendees. Let us hope that the individual's monetary reward was worthwhile.

The Kennedy women deserve all the admiration the public has granted them, and then some. Ethel, Jackie, Rose and even the maligned Joan struggled to hold their heads high even when their spouses were less than worthy.

J. CAROL DRISCOLL,

Fort Lauderdale