My husband was slowing down. He needed protecting.

A story for Jill Biden: It was a beautiful summer day. My husband, Ben Bradlee, was sunbathing out by the pool shortly after his 85th birthday. The photographer Annie Leibovitz had just shown up at Grey Gardens, our house in East Hampton, N.

Y., to take Ben’s picture for Vanity Fair. I was on the phone when Ben called out to me with urgency in his voice: “Sally!” I rushed to see what was wrong.

Ben was standing by the pool looking helpless. “Annie wants to take a picture of me with no shirt,” he said. “No way!” I said, grinning at her.

But I didn’t blame her: He looked great without a shirt. Annie and I had a brief discussion, but I was adamant. Ben was wearing white jeans, and I got his blue shirt.

He put it on, and I buttoned it up all the way. He seemed uncharacteristically docile..