The latter describes Kopechne as “attractive but not gorgeous”—that observation, why?—before noting that she had the bad luck to be in a vehicle that passively “left the bridge,” as if, like the car in Stephen King’s Christine, it had a mind of its own. As if that car hadn’t been driven by a drunken Ted Kennedy, his driver’s license expired. As if Ted hadn’t sped down an unlit dirt road and careened off a small bridge with such force the car flipped and landed on its roof, the windshield smashed in.
