(2 of 17)
In Fort Worth on the morning of the day he died, John F. Kennedy and his wife discussed the risks that a President inevitably faces when he makes public appearances. What Kennedy said was mentally recorded by his special assistant, Kenneth O'Donnell, who repeated it to the Warren Commission: "If anybody really wanted to shoot the President of the U.S., it was not a very difficult job—all one had to do was get a high building some day with a telescopic rifle, and there was nothing anybody could do to defend against such an attempt." A few minutes later, Kennedy departed for Dallas.
Maximum Exposure. As the Warren Commission observes, Kennedy's trip to Texas had three purposes: to smooth over splits among state Democrats, to make fund-raising appearances for the party, and to see—and be seen by—the people. Everyone at the White House agreed that a motorcade through Dallas would be the way to win maximum exposure. A lone dissenter, Texas Governor John Connally, argued that it would take too much time away from other appearances; he withdrew his objection when Kennedy decided to extend his Texas tour from one day, as originally planned, to two.
The chief of the Dallas office of the Secret Service, Forrest V. Sorrels, proposed the route for the motorcade, bearing in mind that the Secret Service was expected to send the President, in Kenny O'Donnell's words, "through an area which exposes him to the greatest number of people." By the most direct route, only four miles separate Love Field, where the President's jet landed at 11:40 a.m., and the Trade Mart, where he was scheduled to speak. But the motorcade meandered ten miles through suburbs and city. There were plenty of high buildings along the way.
In the 15-car motorcade, the Kennedys and the Connallys rode in the third car, a 1961 Lincoln convertible equipped with a clear plastic bubble top. But on O'Donnell's instructions, the bubble top was down; it was a clear, sunny day. Moreover, the President had ordered that no Secret Service agents were to ride on the small running boards at the rear of the car.
"That Is Very Obvious." On the drive into Dallas, Kennedy twice called his car to a halt, once to respond to a sign asking him to shake hands, the second time to talk to a Catholic nun and a group of small children. The welcome, said the Warren Commission, was "tumultuous." For days, the city's officials and editorialists had exhorted the people to give a hearty, nonpartisan welcome to their President. They were still smarting from the bad publicity that Dallas had received a month earlier when a band of right-wingers jostled and spat at Adlai Stevenson.
The crowd was thick at the triangular Dealey Plaza, on the western end of downtown Dallas. There the motorcade slowed down to turn right into Houston Street for one block; then it turned left onto Elm—and, traveling at precisely 11.2 m.p.h., headed down a slight slope past the seven-story, orange brick headquarters of the Texas School Book Depository Co., a private firm that distributes textbooks. Inside the Lincoln, Mrs. Connally turned and smiled: "Mr. President, you can't say Dallas doesn't love you." Replied Kennedy, smiling: "That is very obvious."
"I Love You, Jack." At 12:30 o'clock,