Twenty-Six Seconds

by Alexandra Zapruder

Meanwhile, in November 1973, the committee sponsored a conference at Georgetown University to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the assassination. Notwithstanding their ongoing negotiations with LIFE magazine to license the film for documentary use, the committee convinced Robert Groden to premiere his illegal, highly enhanced copy of the Zapruder film at the conference. If anyone at LIFE knew about it or objected, their reaction is not captured in the records. As late as mid-December, the two organizations were still trading license agreements and negotiating over details. Perhaps this was because, as Richard Trask and others noted, the film had an enormous impact on the assembled attendees but didn’t make a big public splash. The press didn’t cover it and it didn’t result in Groden’s hoped-for popular outcry. Robert Groden told me the same thing: “The hit of the entire conference, if you can call it that, was the fact that ‘Here’s the film. It exists.’… People were seeing it. We now had confirmation that what we had always suspected the film showed… [it] really did. But nothing happened. There was no press coverage, nothing, it just went away.” Is it possible that LIFE simply didn’t know that their potential partner was premiering an illegal copy of the film in advance of signing a license agreement with them? If Abe had been alive, he would have called that a pretty extraordinary act of chutzpah.

  By the start of 1974, the committee was out of the negotiations and Richter was representing his own interests with LIFE to make a documentary using the film, with the assistance of a financial backer who is not named in the correspondence. Through most of 1974, the back-and-forth continues—enduring a hiccup when Mark Lane screened a bootleg copy of the film and Richter’s backer pressed LIFE to sue but the magazine refused. As Richter continually expanded his plans for the use of the film—from a short documentary to a long one, from an educational project to a for-profit one, from a nonexclusive license to an exclusive one—LIFE was forced to keep changing the terms of the agreement. In late April 1974, Paul Welch wrote to Richter: “We seem to have a whole new launch going with the Zapruder film. I think we have to re-examine back at ground zero and deal with this as purely a commercial flight with none of the educational or public interest overtones of our earlier discussions.” Even as they closed in on a deal, the endless game of whack-a-mole with bootleg copies of the Zapruder film would not end. In May, Claude Lelouch, who had been forced to pull a pirated version of the film from Mort d’un président in 1969, managed to premiere the movie again under the new title Toute une vie—this time including the bootlegged clip from the film—at the Cannes Film Festival in May 1974. Under pressure from LIFE, he agreed to take out the illegal clip, but the editors at LIFE planned to sue him for infringement anyway.

  That same month, the negotiations on Richter’s proposed documentary—now called You Are the Jury—had gotten far enough along that the prospectus was kicked upstairs to editor in chief Hedley Donovan. When he heard about the offer, managing editor Ralph Graves wrote a memo to his bosses, which, after so much back-and-forth, once again captures the tone of LIFE magazine from the old days:

  Paul tells me that it is now company policy to entertain responsible offers for use of the Zapruder film. I suppose this constitutes a responsible offer, but I find the treatment questionable at best and highly objectionable at worst… I think the Zapruder film should be seen for its historical importance. But the Richter treatment reveals an intention to exploit the film to the hilt for (a) shock effect and (b) conspiracy controversy. Perhaps any film producer who got his hands on this property would do the same. Paul points out that it would be difficult for us to undertake a censorship role, telling the producer how he can use the film and what he can say about it. I agree. I think we should either say yes or no to the proposition. My own answer is a simple no.

  Hedley Donovan circled this last sentence of the memo and scribbled a note at the bottom of the page. “Ralph: I agree. HD.”

  This decision put a hold on Richter’s plans for the film, though he would reappear later in 1975 for one more try. Now, for the umpteenth time, LIFE magazine was faced with figuring out what they could or should do with the Zapruder film. Paul Welch sought advice from chief editorial counsel Gabe Perle, who outlined the risks inherent in a company policy that depended on decisions based on editorial content. Although LIFE was entitled to make these judgments as the owner of the film, there was also a public interest that remained a competing factor. Sitting in the position of censor was going to end badly, either in the form of another lawsuit or simply the degradation of the copyright through repeated “fair use,” which had been allowed by the judgment in the Geis lawsuit. They needed a new approach. There seemed to be two options. One was to make the film available to anyone who asked, based on a standard set of prices, removing themselves from the position of making editorial judgments about whether or not it was an appropriate use. The other was to give it to a public institution and let someone else handle it. Later that same day, Perle wrote a second memo, realizing that this might not be so simple after all. “After re-reading the agreement with Zapruder, I think that we cannot give away title to the film unless we get approval of the gift from whoever is legally responsible for Zapruder’s estate.”

  Welch, clearly frustrated, passed all the documentation along to his colleague Bob Lubar. “Can we get together, possibly with Ralph, to dispose of the Zapruder question once and for all?” Among the considerations he listed, the last one reads: “If we don’t go ahead with the Richter deal I think we ought to give the film to the National Archives, Library of Congress, someone, for whatever tax write-off we can claim. Or, at worst, for nothing.” It seems that Welch was willing to do nearly anything to be done with the Zapruder film. On a second copy of the memo, Graves handwrote a note at the top: “Lubar, Welch, and I decided on 6/21/74 to give film to National Archives or Library of Congress as historic document belonging to the public.”

  Excellent. It was done. There was just the little matter of running it by the Zapruder family.

  An internal memo documents the beginning of what would be a long conversation on this subject. “Paul talked with Henry Zapruder, who is Abraham’s brother [sic] and executor of the estate about our suggestion to give the film to the National Archives.” Just enough time had passed that no one included in this correspondence had known Abe Zapruder or had any sense of the family. The personal connection between Abe and Dick Stolley and Dick Pollard was a thing of the past. The memo goes on: “Henry wanted to talk first with Abraham’s wife (could it be Sarah??) and presumably he has since done so… Please let me know what happens on this. You know we have Richter waiting in the wings and Paul is also holding up on a British film company. The original film is in Lillian Owens’ safe.”

  The conversations continued to heat up as Henry, the executives at LIFE, and Bob Richter went back and forth over what to do. LIFE clearly didn’t want it anymore. Richter did. It’s impossible to tell from the memos what Henry really wanted, except that he, like editor in chief Hedley Donovan and managing editor Ralph Graves, did not approve of Richter’s prospectus. The question seemed to be what power Henry had to control the outcome of the decision. Welch wrote a memo to the file on January 17, 1975:

  Our legal counsel says that indeed we have an obligation, that Henry does have veto power, that under the terms of the agreement our lawyer feels that the Zapruder estate is entitled to try and make some money on the film before we give it to the National Archives.

  I also told Richter that we are in the awkward position of holding on to something too hot to handle and no saucer to put it on. Richter said Zapruder doesn’t want us to give the film to the National Archives but that was Henry Zapruder’s feeling several months ago when he still thought he could make a buck on it.

  I told Richter I was going to call Zapruder and try to reach a decision that would get us off dead center.

  LIFE really was in a bind. There seemed to be no way to use the film in a tasteful way, and one memo after the other confirms it was the fundamental co
nflict of sitting on an incredibly valuable piece of property that could not be used without making too many ethical compromises that led LIFE to decide to give it away. A few weeks later, Paul Welch wrote another memo to the file updating the record. He noted that Richter still wanted to use the film but that it seemed unlikely that any proposal would get approval at LIFE and that “there was no way of making a film based on the Zapruder footage which would be commercially profitable that would get Time Inc. editorial approval. I said I could continue to pursue with Henry Zapruder the National Archives plan; that I felt very uncomfortable sitting in the middle and wanted to get the film out of Time Inc.’s hands.”

  While LIFE debated whether it could give the film to the National Archives and how to deal with the Zapruders, events were transpiring that would end up having a serious impact on the final outcome. Robert Groden had been approached again, this time by an organization known as the Assassination Information Bureau, a group that was organizing showings of bootleg copies on college campuses around the nation. They asked Groden to present his enhanced version of the film at a conference called “The Politics of Conspiracy,” which opened at Boston University on January 31, 1975. The organizers of the conference did not use the event to advocate for one theory or another—in fact, there were some presenters whose ideas offended even Mark Lane—but to challenge once again the official findings of the Warren Commission and to call for a reopening of the JFK investigation. Participants and activists also appealed for a fresh look at the assassinations of Robert F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr.

  Groden showed the film at a press conference before the main conference. Unlike the viewing at Georgetown in 1973, this time there was a huge media presence and national reaction. The New York Times carried an article about it—albeit with a mistaken description of Mrs. Kennedy’s movements—a few days later, on February 3:

  The dramatic high point of the conference was the showing of a “bootleg” copy of what is known as “the Zapruder film.” This is an amateur movie made by Abraham Zapruder, a Dallas dressmaker, which is the only known pictorial record of the moment Mr. Kennedy was shot. The film was purchased by Time Inc. and has never been officially released.

  In the film, President Kennedy is seen slumping forward in the back seat of the convertible, his hands moving upward toward his neck.

  His wife, Jacqueline, is seen moving across Gov. John B. Connally of Texas, who is sitting slightly forward, reaching for the President [sic].

  Suddenly, the President’s head and the upper part of his body are snapped violently backward. Blood gushes about his face.

  This moment of the film was marked by groans and gasps from the audience packed into an auditorium at Boston University, the conference site.

  That very day, Groden appeared with the film at a press conference in Chicago organized by Dick Gregory, another conspiracy activist. Again, the film was shown, this time to the flabbergasted attention of the media. The snowball was rolling down the hill now, gathering mass and force and speed. There was no way to stop it, particularly because there was no one present at any of these events to offer a dissenting interpretation of what the film showed. Since the images do, in fact, show the president’s head snapping backward, there seemed little question that this was, at last, the visual evidence that the fatal shot came from the front, not from the rear, where the Texas School Book Depository was located. Despite the fact that six years earlier, Luis Alvarez and Paul Hoch had carried out exhaustive studies showing that, according to the principles of physics, the backward movement of the president’s head was entirely consistent with a shot from the rear, such counter-narratives did not receive widespread attention.

  Instead, for the moment, the questions raised seemed to point perfectly toward conspiracy: Why hadn’t the public seen the film if there was nothing to hide? Why did the images on the film seem to contradict the explanation given by the Warren Report? How could anyone look at the film and think that all the shots came from behind the president? In the context of an American crisis of faith in the government throughout the late 1960s and ’70s, it must have seemed not only absurd but insulting to ask people to take the word of the Warren Report over what they saw with their own eyes.

  For his part, Groden was transformed overnight from looking fearfully over his shoulder and hiding the film in a safe into a conspiracy celebrity, showing the film to hundreds of people, among them members of the news media, and even, on February 4, 1975, testifying before the Rockefeller Commission on CIA activities within the United States.

  If LIFE was aware of the showing of the film at Boston University and the press conference in Chicago, there’s no mention of it in the records. While the film was causing an uproar in Boston, Chicago, and Washington, inside the Time & Life Building in New York, the memos flew back and forth about how to give it to the National Archives and how to convince the Zapruders to allow that. Should there be strings attached? Perhaps there should be restrictions limiting its use to historical or educational purposes only. Could LIFE give it away but keep a provision allowing them to use it “editorially or commercially should the occasion arise”? Before reaching a final decision, LIFE planned to get the film appraised and, assuming the film’s value was more than $20,000, to buy out the Zapruder family for a sum “not to exceed $10,000.” All were agreed. The film appraisal came in at $220,000, which is nearly a million dollars in today’s money, and matters finally seemed like they were about to be settled. Executives at LIFE agreed on a proposal from Henry to share a fifty-fifty tax write-off with the Zapruder heirs when the film was donated to the National Archives.

  On March 6, 1975, the inevitable happened. As Groden tells it, while he was testifying at the Rockefeller Commission the month before, a call came in from someone at Good Night America, hosted by Geraldo Rivera. Everyone was talking about the conspiracies, about the Zapruder film, about the need to reopen the investigation and reconsider the validity of the Warren Commission findings. Geraldo wanted to broadcast the Zapruder film on his show. Groden, Dick Gregory, and another Warren Commission critic named Ralph Schoenman were invited to the program to air the film and discuss the assassination. (The other guests that evening would include the considerably less controversial Raquel Welch and author Charles Berlitz talking about his best-selling book about the Bermuda Triangle.) There is nothing in the LIFE archives about this night, but Groden says that after the program was taped but before it aired, Time Inc. threatened to sue ABC if they ran the film. As Groden tells it, “The executives and attorneys at ABC told Geraldo not to show the film, but he said, ‘You’re going to run it or you’re going to get yourself a new boy.’ And he stood up for it and we showed it. And it was the highest ratings he had ever gotten. Ever!”

  If we are being very exacting, it would be accurate to point out that the film had actually appeared on television before. One of these showings was on the late-night television program Underground News with Chuck Collins, originating on WSNS-TV in Chicago in 1970 and later airing in syndication to Philadelphia, Detroit, Kansas City, and St. Louis. A copy of the film had apparently been given to Underground News director Howie Samuelsohn by conspiracy theorist Penn Jones Jr., the editor of the Midlothian Mirror. There were probably other broadcasts, as well. But not unlike the showing of the film in the courtroom in New Orleans or the various viewings of bootleg versions, these were essentially limited to local audiences.

  Geraldo’s program on ABC was another story entirely. This was a national broadcast on a major network, with a viewership of millions. Rivera, with a flowing mane of brown hair and his signature mustache, sits on the set with Dick Gregory and Robert Groden on swivel chairs against the backdrop of a nauseating gold curtain. After interviewing the two men, learning how they became involved in the questions surrounding the assassination, Geraldo introduces the film:

  I’m telling you right straight out that if you are at all sensitive, uh, if you’re at all queasy, uh, then don’t watch this film,
just put on the, uh, the late-night movie, uh, because this is, uh, very heavy. It’s the film shot by the Dallas dress manufacturer Abraham, uh, Zapruder, and it’s the execution of President Kennedy.

  Groden narrates the events, beginning with footage of the president and first lady on Main Street, spliced together with clips from the Marie Muchmore and Orville Nix films. As the Zapruder film begins to roll, Groden continues to narrate, describing how the president is waving to the crowd before disappearing behind the freeway sign. Then the president reappears from behind the Stemmons Freeway sign:

  GRODEN: He is shot, then Governor Connally is shot.

  GERALDO: He’s already been hit.

  GRODEN: He’s already been hit.

  (There are a few seconds of agonizing silence.)

  GERALDO: And now?

  GRODEN: At the bottom of the screen, the head shot.

  Behind him, you can hear audible gasps and a sort of moan coming from the audience. Geraldo says, “That’s the shot that blew off his head. That’s the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen in the movies.”

  After a few minutes discussing the Warren Commission and Groden’s view that the Zapruder film definitively refutes its conclusion, they watch an extreme close-up of just President Kennedy’s head, one of Groden’s carefully reshot versions of the film. For the second time—and this time the image fills the screen—the president is murdered in cold blood. As they go to commercial break, Geraldo addresses the camera again. “Oh, God, that’s awful. That’s the most upsetting thing I’ve ever seen. We’ll talk about it in a minute.”

  This moment on national television was a turning point for the film, though in exactly what way really depended on who you were. For Groden and others who felt absolutely committed to make what they saw as the truth of the assassination public, this was the vindication of years of suppression, lies, and intimidation by the government. Even now, it’s impossible when talking to Groden to fail to see his conviction in his views. Then again, on Good Night America and elsewhere, there was an absolute conflation of the film itself with a supposedly ironclad view that what we see proves the existence of a second shooter; anything else was heresy. Certainly, Geraldo Rivera didn’t present an opposing view on his program. In fact, it was as if there were no opposing view; no one was going on TV and narrating a different story or explaining why the president’s head would snap back even if he was shot from the rear. Why? Because LIFE controlled the film and LIFE would not engage in these debates, nor would it allow others to use the film for this or any other purpose. The unintended result was that even though LIFE owned the film, the conspiracists owned its content, defining its meaning with their stolen copies. This polarization did no one any favors. And the conspiracy theorists, while they might have reasonable points to make or questions to ask, defined themselves so completely as against the Establishment that it became impossible to interpret the evidence differently without being accused of being an apologist for the government or part of the cover-up.