CHAPTER 1

Monday, November 18, 1963

On a chilly, wet Monday morning in the quiet residentialneighborhood of Oak Cliff, a few miles southwest ofdowntown Dallas, Lee Harvey Oswald arose early asusual. He opened the French doors of his small room, which wasno bigger than a large closet, and stumbled barefoot down the coldhallway floor of the rooming house. Oswald was rather small inbuild, barely five foot nine inches and less than 150 pounds, buthe was wiry and deceptively strong. His deep-blue eyes set off hisordinary looks, and although he was only twenty-four years old,his light-brown hair was already thinning.

Now he had to call his wife, Marina, from the telephone heshared with the other tenants of the rooming house. The Oswaldswere living apart; their marriage had been a difficult, sometimeseven violent one ever since they arrived in the United States theyear before. Oswald was ashamed that he had been unable toprovide a decent living for his wife and their two young daughters,two-year-old June and one-month-old Rachel, who lived with theirmother six miles away in Irving, Texas. There, they shared a housewith Marina's only real friend, Ruth Paine, who was also separatedfrom her husband, and her own two young children.

When Marina finally answered the phone, she was sleepy butalready upset and angry with her husband. "Where were you lastnight, Lee?" she demanded in her native Russian. "I called thenumber you gave me for emergencies, and a lady told me there wasno Lee Oswald living there. What's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm at the rooming house, and I was here last night," said Leein his broken Russian, the only language he used when speakingto his wife and children. "That was Mrs. Roberts you talked to, mylandlady. I told you never to call me here, only in emergencies. Whydid you call? Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk to you. I felt badbecause you didn't come by this past weekend to see me and thegirls."

Marina only included herself to be polite. She did not really loveLee anymore, and he didn't love her either. They had both comefrom broken homes and were so lonely that they needed each other;she needed him because she was a foreigner and he was the fatherof her children, and he needed her because she was the only oneleft who could tolerate him.

"I know you were upset, Lee, but why did your landlady tell meyou didn't live there?"

"Because I used another name," Lee confessed.

Marina paused. "What name?"

"O. H. Lee."

Marina became incensed again. "But why did you do that? Howwas I to know? Why do you need another name?"

Now Oswald's anger began to rise. He did not like explaininghimself. "I didn't want the FBI to know where I lived, that's why.Don't you understand?"

"No, no. I don't understand. That's crazy. The FBI isn't lookingfor you, Lee. When will all your foolishness end? First, it's onething, then another, and now it's this fictitious name. Please stopall this, please. You're a father of two small children. This has tostop," demanded Marina.

But Oswald was not listening. The last thing he wanted nowwas to fight with his wife. Their relationship had improved slightlysince his return from Mexico City in early October when he hadattempted to defect to Cuba, but his improved attitude towardhis wife and their marriage was a mask; it was not because he haddecided to be a better husband and father but because of the guilthe felt for his recent affair with a woman he met while he was inMexico City. Their affair was brief, but it had made a significantimpact on Oswald. It was not surprising then that before longhe again became distracted and indifferent to Marina and theirmarriage, and they began to live apart when he went to work inDallas. And now he was angry that Marina had found out abouthis alias.

"You're wrong," Lee insisted. "The FBI is interested in whereI am. I know they keep track of me. They visited you twice a fewweeks ago and asked you about me, didn't they?"

"Yes, but you know I didn't tell them anything because I don'tknow where you live or what your address is. All I had was thistelephone number, and I didn't give it to them," said Marina.

"Well, that's good," said Lee, "because I don't want thembothering me or Mrs. Roberts and asking questions. If she knowsthe FBI is interested in me, she'll tell me to leave. You know whatthe FBI is like. It's like the gestapo."

"No, I don't know. The men who came here just asked questionsand left. The FBI is not interested in you anymore, and they're notfollowing you now. You're just imagining all this. They interviewedyou twice before because you defected and then returned; that'sall," Marina pleaded with her husband.

"No. You're wrong," Lee said. "If they knew I lived here, theywould come here, too, and only make trouble for me."

"Lee, please stop thinking like that. They told me they wouldnot bother you."

"Marina, I don't want to argue with you. Just promise me thatif they come to see you again, you won't tell them anything. I wantto be left alone. Promise me, okay?"

"Yes, of course, I promise. You know I wouldn't tell themanything. But when are you going to stop all this craziness? You'rescaring me," said Marina.

Her husband did not want to talk anymore. "Marina, everythingwill be better soon, but don't call here again unless it's an emergency.And if you do, ask for `O. H. Lee,' all right?"

Marina agreed reluctantly, and they said good-bye.

Oswald was not imagining things. The FBI was still interestedin him. Two days after he returned to the United States from theSoviet Union with Marina and little June in July 1962, the FBI,as was their custom for a returned defector, contacted him andrequested that he come to their office in downtown Dallas for aninterview. Oswald was extremely defensive during the interview,and it did not go well. Two months later, the FBI interviewedhim again outside a small bungalow that he and Marina wererenting in Irving, Texas. Oswald was less defensive and agreed toinform the FBI if any Soviet agents tried to contact him. After thissecond meeting, the FBI saw no potential danger from Oswald andrecommended that his file be closed.

Then, in early November 1963, FBI agents stopped by RuthPaine's home on West Fifth Street in Irving, Texas, twice lookingfor him. Oswald's FBI file had been reopened, and they wanted toknow Oswald's current whereabouts. The agents found only Mrs.Paine and Marina at home, and after brief, chilly interviews, neitherwoman could tell the agents where Oswald lived in Dallas.

Oswald walked down the empty hallway of the quiet roominghouse and returned to his small bedroom to dress for work. Thesmall five-by-fourteen-foot room consisted of a single bed witha thin mattress; a large, paint-chipped dresser; and a nightstandwith a lamp next to the bed. Neatly stacked on top of the dresserwere a few library books, some local newspapers, issues of theSocialist newspapers the Militant and the Worker, and his Timemagazines. The walls were bare, and the room was sparse, but itwas neat and cost him only eight dollars a week. Its location at 1026North Beckley Street was near a city bus stop from which it tookonly fifteen minutes to get him to his job at the Texas School BookDepository in Dallas.

After dressing, he followed his morning routine of a simplebreakfast of buttered toast and a small glass of milk. He put a fewpieces of fruit into a brown paper bag for his lunch and headedfor the front door. Lee Oswald was a man of few pleasures. Witheyes downcast, he made no effort to notice or say hello to any ofthe other tenants who passed him in the narrow hallway. A fewminutes later, he was on the bus heading to work in downtownDallas.

* * *

The president awoke Monday morning in West Palm Beach,Florida, to prepare for a busy day of campaigning and speeches.After finishing a late breakfast, he and his aides departed WestPalm Beach aboard Air Force One bound for Tampa. Upon hisarrival at Madill Air Force Base, Tampa's mayor and an assortmentof US Army generals greeted him and an army band played "Hailto the Chief." A briefing from his generals at US Strike CommandHeadquarters was followed by a luncheon at the Officers' Clubwith the base's top military and civilian personnel. An hour later,the president and his party left by helicopter for Tampa's Al LopezStadium where he gave his first speech of what would be a verylong day.

President Kennedy genuinely loved giving speeches and thetravel that went with political campaigning. He enjoyed getting outof Washington, DC, and seeing the enthusiasm of the audiencesthat greeted him. He was a young, handsome, articulate man,who, in two short yet harrowing years, had grown into his role aspresident. The proof of his growing popularity was in the publicopinion polls that showed him and his administration with a 65percent approval rating, even though he had been elected by theslimmest of margins three years before.

During those three years, President Kennedy had had failuresand successes in his attempts to guide the United States through thetense times of Cold War drama. The Bay of Pigs CIA-led invasionof Cuba in early 1961 to topple Castro's Marxist government wasan embarrassing failure for Kennedy. The Berlin Wall crisis in 1961and especially the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 were instancesin which the United States and the Soviet Union came perilouslyclose to confrontation, even nuclear war. Ultimately, Kennedy'sWorld War II experience as a heroic naval officer and his personalconviction that a nuclear war was a last, horrible resort made himan effective partner in managing and reducing Soviet-AmericanCold War tensions around the world.

After finishing his short speech at Al Lopez Stadium, thepresident left by motorcade and traveled to Tampa's Fort HomerHesterly Armory where he delivered another well-received speechto the Florida Chamber of Commerce. Afterward, he was askedabout the hottest and most controversial political topic facingFlorida's voters—Cuba.

"There is a great deal of unfinished business in Cuba," thepresident said. "We have not been successful in removing Mr.Castro. He still remains a major danger to the United States. Butwe are successfully isolating the country. Cuba's trade with theUnited States and its allies is down 80 percent, and Cuba's grossdomestic product is down 25 percent since Castro took power. Asa symbol of revolt in this hemisphere, Castro and his policies havefaded badly."

Despite Kennedy's words, Castro was extremely popularwith the Cuban people and in firm control of his country. Thiswas especially true after the failed Bay of Pigs invasion and theCuban Missile Crisis. In April 1961, CIA-trained Cuban exiles hadattempted a land invasion on the Cuban coast but were quicklydefeated by Castro's troops, and those who were not killed werecaptured and held for ransom. And in October 1962, the UnitedStates discovered that the Soviet Union had secretly installednuclear-tipped intercontinental ballistic missiles on Cuban soil,sixty miles off US shores, in an effort to protect Castro's governmentfrom any further US military invasions. But under Kennedy's coolleadership, the Soviets backed down and removed the missiles,avoiding the real possibility of a nuclear showdown. The agreementto remove the missiles without informing Castro first infuriatedhim, but he was able to secure a commitment from Kennedy thatthe United States would not invade Cuba.

After Kennedy finished his speech and answered reporters'questions, mostly about Cuba and Castro, his motorcade traveledto Tampa's International Inn where he gave a short speech in theInn's Crystal Ballroom to another group of Florida businessmen.Afterward, the president's motorcade returned to Madill Air ForceBase where he boarded Air Force One for the brief half-hour returnflight to Miami.

Approximately three thousand political supporters greetedhim upon his arrival at Miami International Airport. Later thatevening, 1,200 delegates to the Inter-American Press Associationconvention attended a dinner at Miami's American Hotel, wherethe president would give what would be his last, and most fateful,foreign policy speech.

* * *

Oswald spent his workday at the book depository on Monday ashe had every day since being hired as an "order filler." He gatheredorders for schoolbooks from the main office on the second floor,took one of the two freight elevators up to the sixth floor of theseven-floor building, found the correct books for each order, andbrought them back down on the elevator to the shipping room on thefirst floor where shipping clerks would package them and preparethem for shipment. The work was repetitive and unchallenging, butit suited his reclusive and secretive nature and gave him time to bealone and to think about where his life had taken him.

Oswald had been born into a lower-middle-class family in a poorsection of New Orleans and had a poor, unhappy childhood. Hisfather died two months before his birth, and his cold, domineeringmother, Marguerite, later sent Oswald and his older brother,Robert, and older half-brother, John Pic, to live in an orphanagefor two years until she could properly care for them. Because ofhis unstable childhood, Oswald became severely withdrawn andtemperamental and had few, if any, friends. In his self-imposedisolation, he became fascinated with books and reading. When hewas not in school, he would spend most of his time poring overbooks in the quiet of the local library or at home reading alone inhis room. After his mother and her third husband divorced, shecontinued her struggles alone as a single mother of three boys,trying to make ends meet. Oswald hated how little his family hadand despised the unfairness he perceived all around him while helived in New Orleans.

In 1953, when he was fourteen years old, Oswald and his motherwere facing hard times and went to New York City to live with hisbrother, John Pic, who served in the US Coast Guard. Oswald wasbitterly unhappy during this stay in New York City, refusing toattend school because his classmates constantly made fun of hisslight southern accent and called him a hick.

One day while roaming the streets of the city alone, he cameupon a large group of demonstrators. An older woman approachedhim and handed him a pamphlet entitled, Why the RosenbergsShould Not Die.

Curious, Oswald asked the woman, "Who are theRosenbergs?"

"Take it home and read it, dear," said the woman, "then you'llunderstand. They are heroes."

"Who are they?" Oswald asked again.

"Julius and Ethel are husband and wife," replied the woman.

"But if you say they are heroes, why are they going to die?"persisted Oswald.

"Because, young man, they have been falsely convicted," saidthe woman.

"Why are they heroes?" asked Oswald.

"They were trying to bring peace to the world, but, becauseof all the hysteria, they were sentenced to die instead of going toprison," said the woman.

"I don't understand," said Oswald, beginning to becomeemotional.

"Take the pamphlet home and read it, young man. Then youwill understand," she said.

The woman turned and continued about her business as Oswaldhurried home with the pamphlet. He read it many times, horrifiedthat a husband and wife would be executed, and began to followtheir case intensely in the daily newspapers and on television.

A few months later, while Oswald and his mother were stillin New York City, the Rosenbergs were executed by electric chair.When he heard the news on television, Oswald was heartbrokenand upset. But what had really fascinated him the most about theRosenbergs' case was the fact that they were Socialists, or Marxists.As he read more and more about Socialist philosophy, it struck adeep chord in him—so deep that by the time he reached the age offifteen, he had become a serious reader, not of literature or poetry,but of politics and current affairs, particularly Socialism and theCommunist/Marxist world of the Soviet Union, where he naivelybelieved that an ordinary person was treated better and life wasfairer. And the more he read, the more he wanted to escape fromthe injustice and poverty he saw all around him.