by Bryce Zabel
Historians continue to debate whether four or five total shots were fired and from where. What is known with certainty is that the salvo was aimed at a fast-moving car. That it was a conspiracy seems clear to most today, even though the confessed or convicted participants — now in their eighties and nineties, with many others dead or still at large — have continued to contradict each other about their roles and obfuscate the facts time and again.
What mattered at the instant of what would gruesomely be called the “turkey shoot,” was that bullets were fired from at least two locations. Greer’s evasive driving of the Lincoln made the car difficult to hit, no matter how many shooters were involved. Bullets were flying but most, seemingly, were fired out of desperation by would-be assassins who knew their chance at the target was nearly over.
Even so, Hill was down, Governor Connally had been hit once, and the President’s condition was unknown. That left Jacqueline Kennedy and Idanell "Nellie" Connally still to account for.
Two more shots appear to have hit the Kennedy vehicle in its furious escape. One shattered Agent Kellerman’s shoulder, and entered Governor Connally’s chest, causing severe internal bleeding and collapsing his right lung.
With three confirmed victims and the status of the Kennedys uncertain, Greer zoomed the Lincoln toward Parkland Memorial at speeds approaching eighty miles per hour.
Later asked who “they” were, in response to his statement, “They’re trying to kill us all,” President Kennedy famously told the investigators deposing him, “How much time do you have?”
Hickory Hill
At his suburban McLean, Virginia, Hickory Hill estate, purchased years earlier from JFK, the President’s brother, thirty-eight-year-old Attorney General Robert Kennedy, was lunching with U.S. Attorney Robert Morgenthau, who represented the southern district of New York. They ate hot clam chowder and tuna fish sandwiches.
The younger Kennedy had just finished a swim and was still wet. He appeared to be trying to relax and not succeeding, according to Morgenthau. “He had a lot on his mind but he could only share a tiny bit with me. I could see he was frustrated.”
The outside phone rang at about 1:45 p.m. on the other end of the pool and was picked up by Kennedy’s wife, Ethel. “You can never get away from this damn job,” said Kennedy as he took the call.
On the other end of the line was FBI director J. Edgar Hoover, someone who never called his ostensible boss at home. Neither man had ever had the slightest positive regard for the other. Never much of a conversationalist, Hoover said simply: “I have news for you.”
The attorney general asked the first thing to come to mind: “How is the President?” Hoover delivered a two-sentence précis of the news, and the two men hung up. In later years, each claimed to be the one to have ended the conversation.
Kennedy asked his guest Morgenthau to excuse him, explaining only that the President’s motorcade had been attacked, adding as an afterthought that the governor of Texas and at least one Secret Service agent were wounded. Morgenthau offered his help in any way. “Call everyone you know today,” said RFK. “Let me know what they’re saying.”
Morgenthau nodded his understanding but added his own reassurance: “They’re praying for your brother and our country.” The New Yorker was escorted to the downstairs living room in the house, where he was left to watch the news on television. “I felt a sense of great dread in those moments,” said Morgenthau in a December 2, 1963 Altman and Berkowitz piece for Top Story. “I could not bear to stay in this sadness and terror, but I could not leave without permission.” Eventually, however, Morgenthau did leave. With no one else in the room and Bobby still rolling from one urgent phone call to another, the New York attorney simply walked from the house, determined to get to his office and roll his own calls so he could give the attorney general the information he had requested.
Bobby Kennedy’s first telephone call, revealed during the future hearings of the Joint Committee on the Attempted Assassination of the President (JCAAP), was not to his brother but to national security adviser McGeorge Bundy. “Have the combinations on the President’s locked files changed right away,” the attorney general said. Kennedy continued to work the phones from his upstairs bedroom so feverishly that he would not change his wet swim suit for more than two hours and only then when his wife demanded it.
There was concern that whoever was behind the Dallas ambush might be coming to Hickory Hill next. Because of this fear, the Fairfax County police surrounded the grounds of the RFK compound without being asked, and Kennedy did not object. Normally opposed to strict security, he instructed Justice Department spokesman Edwin Guthman who had rushed to be by his boss’ side, to replace the police with federal marshals.
Under the supervision of Chief U.S. Marshal Jim McShane, Kennedy’s estate was immediately encircled. As McShane testified in late 1964, “If someone was coming to kill that man, we were prepared to make them kill us first.”
Parkland Memorial
Parkland Memorial Hospital’s Margaret Hinchcliffe, working the emergency desk, had been told to assign teams to handle the injuries that were on the way in. When the President’s appointments scheduler and close friend Kenneth O’Donnell approached her with two Secret Service agents, revolvers drawn, he instructed her to assign the best doctor to the President immediately. Hinchcliffe protested this breach of established triage protocol. Seeing her confronted by armed men, Doctor Robert Shaw, senior ER physician then on duty at Parkland Memorial, approached O’Donnell. “I am in charge," he said, "and I will save the President if he needs saving. Follow me.”
With that, Dr. Shaw, O’Donnell and the agents found President Kennedy, accompanied by his wife and even more Secret Service agents, and directed them all into Trauma One. Dr. Shaw took one look at the commander-in-chief and said, “Sir, lie down on this gurney here. Immediately."
Kennedy refused, pointing to Connally and Hill, who both had just been wheeled in, unconscious, on gurneys of their own, blood staining the crisp white linens. “They need help first.”
Shaw, however, focused on the President. “I can personally vouch for the teams working on both of them, sir, but you are my concern, and the country’s. I need you to lie down and let me examine you." Kennedy looked at the First Lady, who nodded that he should do as he was told.
Kennedy looked around at the pale tile, sterile instruments, and the clock that read 12:37 p.m. Then he flashed his famous charm. “Well, Doctor, I can assure you I would like very much to lie down on that gurney, but I can’t right now.” Kennedy removed his blood-caked suit coat, then began to unbutton his shirt, which was heavily splattered with blood from Connally and Hill.
As Shaw watched, President Kennedy removed his tie and dress shirt, revealing an unusually constrictive shoulder-to-groin brace. “I'm afraid my back needs support occasionally,” he told the doctor. In subsequent interviews, Shaw remembered being startled by the President's compromised appearance, which was so uncharacteristic of his normal image. In truth, Kennedy had aggravated his back during a sexual encounter in the White House pool nearly two months earlier.
As Shaw helped him out of his back supports, Kennedy indicated Trauma Two, where Texas Governor John Connally was fighting for his life. Inside, Dr. Charles J. Carrico, only two years a practicing physician, and two nurses were using surgical shears to cut the clothes away from the Texas governor. What they saw was not good; he had been hit three times, most grievously through the chest. Carrico checked for a pulse and blood pressure, and pronounced both “palpable.”
Shaw explained the scene to the Kennedy party. “The governor’s in the care of Doctor Carrico. He’s on his way to the OR any minute.”
From the side of the room, Jacqueline Kennedy spoke softly. “What about the agents? Where are they?”
Without taking his eyes off the President’s body, now prone on the exam table, Shaw answered. “One of the agents was alert and is being attended in an OR. The other agent, Agent Hill, s
uffered extensive head trauma and spinal damage and has not survived his wounds. I’m very sorry.” As those words were spoken, the First Lady gasped, looked as if she might faint, and was given a chair by a nurse. His death made Secret Service Special Agent Clint Hill only the second member of the organization to be killed while protecting a United States President during an assassination attempt, along with Leslie Coffelt, who had died protecting President Harry Truman in 1950.
Shaw carefully examined the President’s body, looking for wounds, as everyone watched. In a few cases, he used cotton gauze and alcohol to wipe away blood in order to satisfy himself that it had not originated from the President himself. After several minutes, Shaw offered his initial conclusion, spoken to the nurse assisting him: “I see no entry wounds.”
President Kennedy was allowed to dress and did so in the same bloody clothes that he had entered with. He had discussed trading shirts and jackets with O’Donnell, but Jackie was most adamant that he not do that: “Let them see what they’ve done.” The Kennedys resolved then to wear these clothes until this day was over.
Shaw instructed the President to remain in Trauma One for at least an hour for observation. Kennedy said he wanted to meet privately with Nellie Connally but was told such a conversation would have to wait. She was at her husband’s side, moving with the trauma team to the OR. Kennedy nodded, turned to O’Donnell: “Right before this happened, Kenny, she said to us, ‘You can’t say Texas doesn’t love you, Mr. President.’”
At Parkland Memorial, chaos reigned. Dallas police officers, FBI agents, and Secret Service agents were everywhere, most of them with guns drawn. An intern was nearly shot when he tried to hide in a linen closet to deal with a panic attack. Meanwhile, Agent Hill was dead, and Governor Connally was near death. Only agent Kellerman looked like he would survive. Yet, despite the blood and carnage, the President of the United States and the First Lady had been physically untouched.
In the middle of this, Kennedy, scheduler Kenneth O’Donnell, and presidential factotum David Powers commandeered Trauma One as a temporary Oval Office, given Dr. Shaw’s instructions that the President must stay for medical reasons. Finally, Jack Kennedy heard what he wanted to hear: “Your brother is on the phone.”
“They fucking tried to kill us,” the President told the attorney general, based on the testimony of Doctor Shaw, who had refused to leave Kennedy’s side in case he went into shock. He later said, “It was odd. Aside from the curse word, which hardly surprised me under the circumstances, it was the way he phrased it. They tried to kill us.”
Even though Attorney General Robert Kennedy’s phone line was thought to be secure, the FBI later disclosed it had transcripts of that call. The fact that the Kennedy brothers were speaking on a line that had been wiretapped without their knowledge would later prove to be more shocking than what was actually said. RFK responded, “I want to know if Sam Giancana is behind this. I need to know right now. Can you say yes or no?”
The President responded, “You’re prosecuting him, what do you think?”
In fact, that very day the attorney general was waiting to hear about a verdict in the Giancana case. “He’s got motive and he’s got the resources,” said Bobby.
While Jackie distracted Dr. Shaw with conversation about Agent Hill, the President responded, “We both know plenty of people with motives and resources to put me in the ground.” Powers and O’Donnell, who would be called to testify before JCAAP as well as the House Committee on the Judiciary, each remembered the President's words exactly the same way.
“I have people checking,” said Bobby, “but we can’t count on Hoover or McCone for a straight take.” He was referring to the FBI director, a notorious thorn in the side of the Kennedys and other Presidents, and the CIA’s leader, John McCone. Jack and Bobby agreed to meet that night in the Oval Office, as soon as possible after JFK came back to Washington. The Kennedys had begun the search for suspects.
Less than two hours after his arrival at Parkland Memorial Hospital, Governor John Connally died in the main OR. President Kennedy, who had refused to leave while Connally was alive for fear he would be seen as uncaring toward the man who hosted him in Texas, agreed to his advisers’ demand that it was time to go. President Kennedy and Mrs. Kennedy were driven in separate cars to Love Field, the public airport in Dallas, where they would reunite for the trip home on Air Force One.
Love Field
Still grounded six miles northwest of the downtown on the tarmac at Love Field, Air Force One was a hotbed of paranoia. It was jammed full, with speculation of all manner underway. Vice President Johnson had arrived minutes before and was arguing with the assistant special agent in charge, Emory P. Roberts, who had taken over leadership duties for the Secret Service detail since Roy Kellerman was still in surgery at Parkland Memorial Hospital. Roberts was trying to get Johnson to leave the plane immediately but having no luck.
Seeing President Kennedy entering, Johnson pushed through the crowded plane to intercept him, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close (the so-called “Johnson Treatment”). “It’s your goddamned friend Khrushchev,” he growled. “We may be at war. We need to get our heads together on this right now.” Calling the leader of the Soviet Union the United States President’s “friend” seemed inappropriate and revealing at the same time, but this was hardly the time to take offense.
Agent Roberts literally pulled Johnson away from Kennedy. His training made clear that no one is allowed to touch the President without permission, something that was particularly important under the existing conditions. The agent spoke directly to President Kennedy: “Mr. President, I’ve told the Vice President that he cannot be on this plane, that he must depart on Air Force Two. Particularly now that you are here, sir, we need you two separated to assure continuity of authority.” Looking between the President and the Vice President, the agent made his case crystal clear: “You can’t fly together. He needs to leave now.”
President Kennedy nodded to Johnson. “Lyndon, stay in Texas. I have to get back. People will need to see that happen.”
Johnson processed the political implications of sticking around Dallas surrounded by death and shame against the idea of returning to Washington to assure the continuity of the government. “Mr. President, that seems ill-advised.”
Kennedy leaned forward, collared Johnson somewhat more gently than Johnson had just collared him and so many others, pulled close to his ear and said, “We can’t fuck around here, Lyndon.”
Kennedy let go, and simply nodded to Roberts. Within seconds, Secret Service agents Jack Ready and Donald Lawton lifted a humiliated Lyndon Johnson almost off his feet and escorted him from the plane. Using a long-distance lens, AP photographer Ralph Philpott captured the scene. It was a necessary moment to secure national leadership but, to Lyndon Johnson, it always looked as if he was being treated like “a two-bit poker cheat.”
Indeed, in the time that followed, Johnson told practically anyone who would listen about this “ball-crushing” moment, confiding to them that this was when he knew his fate on the 1964 Democratic ticket was sealed. That Johnson would even be engaging in such political speculation on the day that the President of the United States had been targeted for murder is perhaps egocentric on his part. But the truth is that both Jack and Bobby Kennedy were thinking the same thing.
President Kennedy knew something else for certain while standing on that plane surrounded by key members of the government and his wife. He knew these men who had challenged him and tried to undermine his authority these past few years had crossed a line. And he knew he would make them pay.
Dallas Police Department
News of the events out of Dallas rocketed around the world. Nothing since Pearl Harbor seemed to have touched the American nation as powerfully. This was the first true breaking news television event of the modern age, driving audiences to record numbers and beyond, both in the United States and abroad. And, as is true for all good television dramas, it
had a hero people could root for and a villain they could jeer.
Inside the Dallas police building, the suspect, Lee Harvey Oswald was advised that anything he said could be used against him and that he was entitled to an attorney. He made several telephone calls seeking representation. He also spoke with the head of the Dallas Bar Association, who offered to find a lawyer for him. He declined, saying he preferred to secure one himself.
Under questioning, Oswald denied shooting Governor Connally, Agent Hill or Officer J.D. Tippit, a Dallas policeman found dead at the scene. He claimed he was eating lunch when the Dealey Plaza gunfire took place. When he was placed in a lineup, several eyewitnesses identified him as the man responsible for killing Tippit.
“I didn’t shoot anybody,” Oswald stated forcefully.
“Maybe it would be smart for you to come clean, Mr. Oswald. Maybe you don’t understand how much trouble you’re in,” Captain Will Fritz said. The Dallas Police Department veteran had been on duty at the Trade Mart when the shots were fired and immediately reported to Dealey Plaza, where he had been part of the team that had found a rifle on the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository. Police Chief Jesse Curry picked Fritz, who had a reputation as an effective interrogator, to speak to Lee Oswald first. “We’ve got witnesses who saw you shoot a police officer. And we’ve got strong evidence that you shot the governor and the Secret Service man, too. Those are all capital crimes. If you’re convicted, you’ll go to the electric chair.”
Although no stenographer was present at those early interrogations and no tape recorder was used, police officer Dan Selkirk took notes. These were later compared to a report written afterwards by Captain Fritz, who noted that Oswald, already pale, turned “white as a sheet” when the death penalty was mentioned. Nevertheless, the suspect repeated, “I didn’t do any of that stuff, so what can I say about it?”
