Oswald's Tale (85 page)

McMillan:
He was driven to police headquarters and arrived in the basement about 2:00
P.M.
There were reporters milling around in case a suspect in the President’s murder should be brought in. He was asked if he would like to cover his face as he was taken inside. “Why should I cover my face?” he replied. “I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of.”
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5

The Hour of Panic

Lady Bird Johnson has been last left in the vice-presidential car with a Secret Service agent covering her husband’s body even as she and the other occupants hunch down below the level of the windows while the car accelerates down the road and away.

Suddenly they put on the brakes so hard that I wondered if they were going to make it as we wheeled left and went around the corner. We pulled up to a building. I looked and saw it said “Hospital” . . . Secret Service men began to pull, lead, guide and hustle us out. I cast one last look over my shoulder and saw, in the President’s car, a bundle of pink, just like a drift of blossoms, lying on the back seat.
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It was Mrs. Kennedy, huddled over the body of her husband.

Perhaps half an hour later, Lady Bird encountered Jackie Kennedy again. She had been in and out of the operating room where they were trying to keep Jack Kennedy alive, that is, working to keep his heart still beating even if a sizable portion of his brain had been lost. Jackie Kennedy had found a large piece in the rear seat of the presidential limousine and had been holding it ever since in her white-gloved hand until, numbly, silently, nudging the head surgeon with her elbow, she had given it over to him.

Lady Bird knew none of this.

. . . Suddenly I found myself face to face with Jackie in a small hall. I think it was right outside the operating room. You always think of her—or someone like her—as being insulated, protected; she was quite alone. I don’t think I ever saw anyone so much alone in my life. I went up to her, put my arms around her, and said something to her. I’m sure it was something like “God help us all,” because my feelings for her were too tumultuous to put into words.
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Out in Irving, Ruth and Marina are still in a state of relative innocence.

MRS. PAINE.
. . . I had only just begun to prepare the lunch [when] the announcement was made that the President had been shot and I translated this to Marina. She had not caught it from the television statement. And I was crying as I did the translation. And then we sat down and waited at the television set, no longer interested in the preparing of lunch, and waited to hear further word.

I got out some candles and lit them, and my little girl also lighted a candle, and Marina said to me, “Is that a way of praying?” and I said, “Yes, it is, just my own way.”
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Marina is the first to recognize that the event may concern them directly.

MR. RANKIN.
Did Mrs. Paine say anything about the possibility of your husband being involved?

MARINA OSWALD.
. . . she only said, “By the way, they fired from the building in which Lee is working.”

My heart dropped. I then went to the garage to see whether the rifle was there, and I saw that the blanket was still there, and I said, “Thank God.” I thought, “Can there really be such a stupid man in the world that could do something like that?” But I was already rather upset at that time . . .
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It has been Marina’s dirty little secret. She has not told Ruth that Lee owns a rifle and that Lee had wrapped it up in a green blanket and sent it along with the luggage in Ruth Paine’s station wagon when the two women drove up from New Orleans to Irving. Now, the rolled-up green blanket lay on the floor of the garage. The Paines had assumed it was camping equipment.

When Marina came back to the living room, she was informed by Ruth that President Kennedy was dead.

From Marina’s narrative:
I was so shocked by this that I wept freely. I do not know why, but I cried for the President as though I had lost a close friend, although I am from a completely different country and know very little about him.
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Ruth is still not worrying about Lee’s presence in the Texas School Book Depository.

SENATOR COOPER.
Did you have any thought at all that Lee Oswald might have been the man who fired the shot?

MRS. PAINE.
Absolutely none; no.

MR. JENNER.
Why was that, Mrs. Paine?

MRS. PAINE.
I had never thought of him as a violent man. He had never said anything against President Kennedy, [and] I had no idea that he had a gun . . . I do recall then sitting on the sofa when the announcement was definitely made that the President was dead. And she said to me . . . “Now the two children will have to grow up without the father.” . . .

MR. MCCLOY.
Just take a little time to compose yourself.

SENATOR COOPER.
Why don’t you rest a few minutes?

MRS. PAINE.
I can proceed. I recall [that] I cried after I had heard that the President was dead, and my little girl was upset too, always taking it from me more than from any understanding of the situation. And she cried herself to sleep on the sofa, and I moved her to her bed, and Christopher was already asleep in his crib. June was in bed asleep.

MR. JENNER.
Was Marina emotional at all? Did she cry?

MRS. PAINE.
No. She said to me, “I feel very badly also, but we seem to show that we are upset in different ways.” She did not actually cry.
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Then there was a very loud knocking on the door. When Ruth Paine opened it, six officers were on her threshold. They announced themselves as being from the sheriff’s office in Irving and from the Dallas police:

MR. JENNER.
Did you say anything?

MRS. PAINE.
I said nothing. I think I just dropped my jaw. And the man in front said by way of explanation, “We have Lee Oswald in custody. He is charged with shooting an officer.” That is the first I had any idea that Lee might be . . . in any way involved in the day’s events. I asked them to come in. They said they wanted to search the house. I asked if they had a warrant. They said they didn’t. They said they could get the sheriff out here right away with one if I insisted. And I said no, that was all right, they could be my guests.
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Marina would characterize the behavior of the police as “not very polite.”

MARINA OSWALD.
. . . They kept on following me. I wanted to change clothes because I was dressed in a manner fitting to the house. And they would not even let me go into the dressing room to change . . . They were rather rough. They kept on saying, hurry up.
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MR. RANKIN.
When did you learn that the rifle was not in the blanket?

MARINA OSWALD.
When the police arrived and asked whether my husband had a rifle, and I said, “Yes.”

MR. RANKIN.
Then what happened?

MARINA OSWALD.
They began to search the apartment. When they came to the garage . . . I thought, “Well, now, they will find it.”
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Ruth Paine had been standing on the blanket when Marina told her the rifle was under her feet. Ruth translated this for the officers, and they told her to get off the blanket.

MRS. PAINE.
I then stepped off it and the officer picked it up in the middle, and it bent so.

MR. JENNER.
It hung limp just as it now hangs limp in your hand?

MRS. PAINE.
And at this moment I felt this man was in very deep trouble . . .
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The reaction of the police was that these women were highly suspicious. They spoke Russian to each other and one, at least, had known about the gun. It was decided that they would have to come down to the police station.

MRS. PAINE.
. . . Marina wanted to change from slacks as I had already done to a dress. They would not permit her to do that. I said, “She has a right to, she is a woman, to dress as she wishes before going down.” And I directed her to the bathroom to change. The officer opened the bathroom door and said no, she had no time to change. I was still making arrangements with the babysitters, arranging for our leaving the children there, and one of the officers made a statement to the effect of “we’d better get this straight in a hurry, Mrs. Paine, or we’ll just take the children down and leave them in juvenile while we talk to you.”

And I said, “Lynn, you may come too,” in reply to this. I don’t like being threatened. And then Christopher was still sleeping so I left him in the house, and took Lynn my daughter, and Marina took her daughter and her baby with her to the police station, so we were quite a group going into town in the car . . . The [police officer] in the front seat turned to me and said, “Are you a Communist,” and I said, “No, I am not, and I don’t even feel the need of a Fifth Amendment.” And he was satisfied with that. We went on then to the police station and waited until such time as they could interview us.
¹¹

Back at Parkland Hospital, there had been more than a few confusions. In the operating room, the President had been declared dead at 1:00
P.M.
Lyndon Johnson, however, was more than a little concerned that the former presidential entourage and/or the new one might be in one or another form of dire peril and so he decided that they should both hasten back to Love Field, where they could board
Air Force One
and be out of Dallas before the death was publicly announced. Who knew what was behind this fatally successful attack on the Presidency? The sound of the shots in Dealey Plaza had had such authority. It could have been a manifestation of the John Birch Society, the Mafia, the Castro Cubans, the anti-Castro Cubans or, most fearful and dangerous of all, it could—God willing that the answer be no—prove to be a plot in a series of steps by the Russians to set off World War III.

Lyndon Johnson was hardly voicing these hypotheses, but his instincts as a good Texan told him to get the hell out of Texas before the news broke that Kennedy was dead. Having been, by the judgment of his peers, the best or one of the best Majority Leaders the Senate ever had, Lyndon Johnson did trust his own powerful gifts of anticipation, but in the face of an event as horrific as this, anticipation can turn to paranoia—let’s tear ass and run.

Jacqueline Kennedy, however, proved to be immovable. She would not leave Jack’s body behind. Lyndon Johnson’s contingent, which had already boarded
Air Force One
by the time John F. Kennedy’s death was announced to the world at 1:33
P.M.
Central Time, still sat on the tarmac, therefore, surrounded by guards, while a gruesome comedy went through its turns. Dallas city officials argued with grief-stricken, maddened members of the JFK traveling party. The question was whether the body could be released. The crime had taken place in Texas, and there the autopsy must be held. Texas was a sovereign state. Before it was all over, some were saying that Secret Service men had drawn their weapons and pulled the body out of Texas jurisdiction. In any event, it was not until a little after 2:00
P.M.
that Jacqueline Kennedy and a Brigadier General and four Secret Service agents were able to place the coffin in an ambulance and set out for the airport, where they boarded
Air Force One
at 2:18. Lyndon Johnson, having had the courtesy and/or the political wisdom not to leave without Jackie Kennedy and the body, also took the time to be sworn in by a local judge—don’t abuse Texas sentiments altogether!—before they took off. Jackie Kennedy sat by the casket all the way home.

Lady Bird testifies to this hour in Jacqueline Kennedy’s existence:

We had at first been ushered into the main private Presidential cabin on the plane—but Lyndon quickly said, “No, no,” and immediately led us out of there; we felt that is where Mrs. Kennedy should be . . . I went in to see Mrs. Kennedy and, though it was a very hard thing to do, she made it as easy as possible. She said things like, “Oh Lady Bird, it’s good that we’ve always liked you two so much.” She said, “Oh, what if I had not been there? I’m so glad I was there.” I looked at her. Mrs. Kennedy’s dress was stained with blood. Her right glove was caked—that immaculate woman—with blood, her husband’s blood. She always wore gloves like that because she was used to them. I never could. Somehow that was one of the most poignant sights—exquisitely dressed and caked in blood. I asked her if I couldn’t get someone in to help her change, and she said, “Oh, no. Perhaps later . . . but not right now.” . . .

I said, “Oh, Mrs. Kennedy, you know we never even wanted to be Vice-President and now, dear God, it’s come to this.” I would have done anything to help her, but there was nothing I could do . . . so rather quickly I left and went back to the main part of the airplane where everyone was seated.
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