The Freezer Full of Roadkill and Empty Policy

We know a worm lurks in RFK Jr.’s brain, but what about his freezer?

Somewhere on Interstate 684, on a November afternoon in 2001, a man pulled his minivan onto the shoulder, left his children waiting in their seats, and knelt beside a dead raccoon to cut off its penis. He wanted, he later wrote, to study it. The scene comes from his own diary, published this spring in Isabel Vincent’s biography RFK Jr.: The Fall and Rise, drawn from journal entries he made between 1999 and 2001. He has neither confirmed nor denied it. The raccoon, we can assume, offered no comment either.

This would be merely one of the great cocktail-party anecdotes of the age (alongside the roadkill bear cub he left in Central Park in 2014 and the whale head his daughter says he once strapped to the roof of the family minivan) were it not for the small matter of the man’s current job. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. runs the Department of Health and Human Services. He collects roadkill; he now also collects the fate of the nation’s vaccine policy. When Jesse Watters asked him on Fox in June wh…