University of Pennsylvania

ScholarlyCommons
Dissertations (ASC) Annenberg School for Communication

1990

"Covering the Body": The Kennedy Assassination

and the Establishment of Journalistic Authority
Barbie Zelizer
University of Pennsylvania, bzelizer@[Link]

Follow this and additional works at: [Link]

Part of the Journalism Studies Commons, Mass Communication Commons, and the Speech and
Rhetorical Studies Commons

Recommended Citation
Zelizer, Barbie, ""Covering the Body": The Kennedy Assassination and the Establishment of Journalistic Authority" (1990).
Dissertations (ASC). 6.
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This paper is posted at ScholarlyCommons. [Link]

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"Covering the Body": The Kennedy Assassination and the Establishment
of Journalistic Authority
Abstract
This study explores the narrative reconstruction by journalists of the story of John F. Kennedy's assassination.
It examines how American journalists have turned their retellings of assassination coverage into stories about
themselves, promoting themselves as the event's authorized spokespeople. At heart of their attempts to do so
are issues of rhetorical legitimation, narrative adjustment and collective memory, all of which underscore how
journalists establish themselves as an authoritative interpretive community.

The study is based on systematic examination of the narratives by which journalists have told the assassination
story over the 27 years since Kennedy died. Narratives were taken from public published discourse which
appeared between 1963 and 1990 in the printed press,documentary films, television retrospectives, trade
press and professional reviews.

The study found that journalists' authority for the event was rarely grounded in practice, for covering
Kennedy's death was fraught with problems for journalists seeking to legitimate themselves as professionals.
Rather, their authority was grounded in rhetoric, in the narratives by which journalists have recast their
coverage as professional triumph and given themselves a central role as the assassination story's authorized
retellers. Their narratives have allowed them to recast instinctual and improvisory dimensions of practice as
the mark of a true professional, while attending to larger agendas about journalistic professionalism, shifting
boundaries of cultural authority and the legitimation of television. All of this has made the Kennedy
assassination a critical incident for American journalists, through which they have negotiated the haws and
whys of journalistic practice, authority and community.

This study thereby showed that journalists practice rhetorical legitimation in a circular fashion, circulating
their narratives circulated in systematic and strategic ways across medium and news organization. Journalists
use discourse about events to address what they see as issues central to their legitimation and consolidation as
a professional interpretive community. This suggests that the function of journalistic discourse is not only to
relay news but to help journalists promote themselves as cultural authorities for events of the "real world."

Degree Type
Dissertation

Degree Name
Doctor of Philosophy (PhD)

Department
Communication

First Advisor
Larry Gross

This dissertation is available at ScholarlyCommons: [Link]

Subject Categories
Communication | Journalism Studies | Mass Communication | Speech and Rhetorical Studies

This dissertation is available at ScholarlyCommons: [Link]

 COPYRIGHT

Barbie Zelizer

1990
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This study owes ita completion to the contributions

o£ several people. My thanks £irst o£ all to my £aculty
committee. Roger Abrahams displayed a keen ability to help
me simultaneously keep my £eet on the ground and head in
the clouds. Chuck Bosk recognized when the data needed
brave new twists, and he in£licted them in painless
invisible ways that gave this study much o£ its potential
value. Carolyn Marvin and Joe Turow had me answering and
asking questions more o£ten than I liked but to the
ultimate bene£it o£ this study. And above all, Larry
Gross, my chairperson, kept me going when I wanted to stop
and stopped me when I thought to keep going. For his
ability to intuit not only the appropriate pace o£
research but o£ intellectual and emotional endeavor, and
£or his time, support, inspiration and trust, I thank him.

Special thanks go to Amy Jordan, Pamela Sankar and

Lois Silverman, and to Victor Caldarola, Colleen Davis and
Diane Umble, whose £riendship, encouragement and counsel
kept my spirits up, my head clear and my pen moving.
Thanks to John Massi £or diligent hours o£ video-taping
and to Adele Chatelain £or her surveillance o£ the
Annenberg library £iles. Kathleen Hall Jamieson made it
possible £or me to procure many o£ the video-tapes which
comprised my data base, Jim Cedrone o£ the Kennedy Library
tirelessly combed archives at my request, and the
Vanderbilt Library in Nashville opened its videotape
collection £or my perusal. Countless other people have
a££ected my work and development. While they know who they
are, I remain indebted to them.

Finally, my deepest gratitude is reserved £or £our

very special people by the name o£ Glick. Without the
support, understanding and love o£ Noa, Jonathan, Gideon
and, above all, Michael, none of this would have been
possible. With the utmost appreciation, I dedicate this
dissertation to them.

Barbie Zelizer

iii
 ABSTRACT

"COVERING THE BODY":

THE KENNEDY ASSASSINATION
AND
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF JOURNALISTIC AUTHORITY

Barbie Zelizer

Pro£essor Larry Gross (Chairperson)

This study explores the narrative reconstruction by.

journalists o£ the story o£ John F. Kennedy's

assassination. It examines how American journalists have

turned their retellings o£ assassination coverage into

stories about themselves, promoting themselves as the

event~s authorized spokespeople. At heart o£ their

attempts to do so are issues o£ rhetorical legitimation,

narrative adjustment and collective memory, all o£ which

underscore how journalists establish themselves as an

authoritative interpretive community.

The study is based on systematic examination o£ the

narratives by which journalists have told the

assassination story over the 27 years since Kennedy died.

Narratives were taken £roffi public published discourse

which appeared between 1963 and 1990 in the printed press,

iv
documentary films, television retrospectives, trade press

and professional reviews.

The study £ound that journalists' authority £or the

event was rarely grounded in practice, for covering

Kennedy's death was £raught with problems £or journalists

seeking to legitimate themselves as pro£essionals. Rather,

their authol'i ty was grounde"d in rhetoric, in the

narratives by which journalists have recast their coverage

as pro£essional triumph and given themselves a central

role as the assassination Btory~e authorized retellers.

Their narratives have allowed them to recast instinctual

and improvisory dimensions o£ practice as the mark o£ a

true pro£essional, while attending to larger agendas about

journalistic professionalism, shi£ting boundaries o£

cultural authority and the legitimation o£ television

All o£ this has made the Kennedy assassination a

critical incident £or American journalists, through which

they have negotiated the haws and whys o£ journalistic

prac'tice, authority and community.

This study thereby showed that journalists practice

l'hetorical legitimation in a circular £ashion, circulating

their narratives circulated in systematic and strategic

ways across medium and news organization. Journalists use

v
discourse about events to address what they see aa issues

central to their legitimation and consolidation as a

pro£essional interpretive community. This suggests that

the function of journalistic discourse is not only to

relay news but to help journalists promote themselves as

cultural authorities for events of the "real world."

vi
 CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEHENTS •••.••.••.••••.•.•....••.••••..•.••.••• i i i

ONE. NARRATIVE, COLLECTIVE HEHORY AND JOURNALISTIC

AUTHORITy ••••.••••.•.••.••.••••.••....•...•••...••.• 2
The Workings o£ Cultural Authority and Memory ..••.•• 3
The Speci£ic Case o£ Journalistic Authority ..•••••.• ?
Ritual Dimensions o£ Journalistic Authority ......•• 19
The Kennedy Assassination as Locus ••••.••.......•.• 21
Structure o£ Study .•..••.•.••••••..••.•.•••.•••••.• 26

TWO. BEFORE THE ASSASSINATION: CONTEXTUALI2ING

ASSASSINATION TALES ..••.•..•.••.•.•...•.•.••......• 35
Pro£essionalism, Cultural Authority and the
Re£lexivity o£ Sixties' Narratives ••••.•••••.... 36
Journalism and the Kennedy Administration •••.•.•.•• 43
The Uncertain Legitimacy o£ Television News •..••..• 56
Lending Closure to Context ..•••......••..•.•••••.•• 64

THREE. RHETORICAL LEGITIHATION AND JOURNALISTIC

AUTHORITY .••.•.••••..••••...••.••....•.••.••.••.••• ?5
Creating A Place £or Narrative .•.••.••...••..•.•••• ?6
Strategies o£ Retelling the Assassination ••••.••.•. 82
Rhetorical Legitimation: Cultural Authority
Through Narrative Adjustment ....••.••••..•••••• 103

FOUR. "COVERING THE BODY" BY TELLING

THE ASSASSINATION •••••••••.•••••••••.•.....•.•..•. 112
"Covering the Body": The Story As Corpus .•....•... 115
Moments o£ Coverage •••••..•••.....•.•...•.......•• 11?
Consolation Versus In£ormation .••...•.••..••..••.• 146

vii
FIVE. "COVERING THE BODY" THROUGH PROFESSIONAL
ASSESSMENT •••.•••..•••.••..•.••••.•..••.••••.••••• 155
Assessing Coverage Through Mass Media •..•••..•••.• 156
Assessing Coverage Through Pro£essional Forums ••.. 192
Mastering Coverage By Mastering Technology ••••.••• 201

SIX. DE-AUTHORIZING OFFICIAL MEMORY ..•....•......•••..• 212

Death Creating Li£e: The Assassination and Images
o£ JFK .••••••••••.••••••••••••••••.....••••.•••• 213
The Establishment o£ Documentary Failure ..••.•..••• 223
The Ascent o£ Alternate Memories and Alternate
Rete 11 ers •.•••••••.••••••••••.••....••....••••.. 243

SEVEN. NEGOTIATING MEMORY: SITUATING PROFESSIONAL

RETELLERS .••..•••...•••••••...••••.....••..•••••..• 265
Competing £or Memory •.•.•..•••..••.•......•..••••.• 266
Situating the Journalist as Pre£erred Reteller ..••. 281

EIGHT. THE AUTHORITY OF THE INDIVIDUAL:

RECOLLECTING THROUGH CELEBRITY .•..........•...•.••. 312
Celebrity As A Memory System ••••...•••••.•......... 313
The Context £or Journalistic Celebrity .••..•...•..• 318
Institutionally Perpetuating Celebrity ....••.....•• 332
The Downside o£ Celebrity •••...•.•.••.•....•.•.••.• 348
The Viability o£ Perpetuating Tales Through
Celebri ty ..............••••..••••...••....••.... 352

NINE. THE AUTHORITY OF THE ORGANIZATION AND INSTITUTION:

RECOLLECTING THROUGH PROFESSIONAL LORE ••...•••.•.•. 361
Themes o£ Pro£essionalism .•.••••...••••...•...•.••. 362
Re-Using Assassination Tales ••..•••••..•••......... 378
On Memory and Pro£essionalism .•••••....••...••..... 396

viii
TEN. THE AUTHORITY OF THE PROFESSION: RECOLLECTING
THROUGH HISTORY AND THE CUSTODIANSHIP OF MEMORY •... 402
History: Privileged Record or Anachronism? ..•.•... 403
Justifying Journalistic Record as History .••..•••.. 409
Journalists, Historians and the Custodianship
of Hemor ies ••....•......••...••••.•.•.••.•.••... 427

90NC!,.USIOlI!.

ELEVEN. ON THE ESTABLISHMENT OF JOURNALISTIC

AUTHORITY ••.•••••••.•••••••.•.......•••.•.....••••• 439
The Argument, Refined ••••••...••....•••.•••.•.••••• 442
The Craft of Journalistic Authority .•....•...•.•.•• 448
Technology, Professionalism and Memory .....•.•••.•• 452
The Shape of Journalistic Community .•....•.•.•.•••• 458
Acts of Transmission, Narratives of Ritual:
The Role of Discourse in Shaping Community •..... 463
Rhetorical Legitimation and Cultural Authority •...• 469
On Cultural Authority. Memory and Community •.•..•.. 470

APPENDIX A - METHODOLOGICAL APPENDIX ..••••.•.•.•.•.•.•. 476

REFERENCES .•••••.....••..•....•••....•••••.•.••••.•.•.. 480

i><
 1

INTRODUCTION
 2

CHAPTER ONE

NARRATIVE, COLLECTIVE MEMORY AND JOURNALISTIC AUTHORITY

Common sense is quite wrong in thinking that the

past is fixed, immutable, invariable, as against
the ever-changing flux of the present. On the
contrary, at least within our own consciousness,
the past is malleable and flexible, constantly
changing as our recollection reinterprets and
reexplains what has happened ;

The ability of journalists to promote themselves as

authoritative and credible spokespeople for events of the

world" has long been an unspoken given in

journalistic practice. From discussions about Watergate to

recollections of the Hindenburg Affair, the world of

journalism is cluttered with activities that should

generate questions about journalists' right to position

and perpetuate themselves as spokespeople for events. Yet

audiences - and analysts - have insufficiently considered

what makes journalists better equipped than others to

offer a "preferred" version of events, particularly those

events situated beyond the grasp of everyday life. Both

have similarly avoided asking how journalists ascribe to

themselves such a power of interpretation, or how it

carries them from one news event to another. In short, the

boundaries of journalists' cultural authority have

remained largely unexplored simply because few people have

bothered to ask questions about them.

 3

This study of the cultural authority of journalists

aims to address such an oversight. It examines how

journalists have established themselves as authorized

spokespeople of the events of the "real world." It does so

by examining the establishment and perpetuation of

journalists as authorized spokespeople for one event - the

assassination of John F. Kennedy. Through the narratives

by which journalists have recounted their coverage of the

event over the past twenty-seven years, it explores how

journalists have made the assassination story as much into

a story about American journalists as about America's 34th

President. In so doing, they have strategically shaped

their position as cultural authorities for telling the

events of the "real world."

Positioning certain groups or individuals as cultural

authorities has long been a problem of contemporary life,

particularly in a m~diated age. Ongoing debates about

acceptable notions of expertise, domination and power have

occupied individuals in all aspects of everyday life.

Which particular set of qualities invests one group, or

one individual, with more authority than another has

generated extensive discourse about the workings by which

authority is seen as being most effectively realized.

 4

For groups involved in public discourse, questions o£

authority are reduced to how speakers promote

authoritative versions o£ real-li£e events through the

stories they tell. Investing speakers with authority takes

place through the e££ective circulation o£ codes o£

knowledge among members o£ the groups to which they

belong. This recalls Durkheim's notion o£ collective

representations, which suggests that groups structure

through representation collective ways o£ understanding

the world around them· It suggests that notions o£

authority, like other collective representations~ are

arrived at by members o£ groups who give them meaning.

Knowledge about cultural authority is assumed here to

work in non-linear ways. Through circular interaction,

knowledge is e££ectively circulated and recirculated.

According to Anthony Giddens,

the structural properties o£ social systems are

both the medium and the outcome o£ the practices
that constitute those systems 3 .

The suggestion that social actors react to others at the

same time as they are being reacted to means that

knowledge about authority is codi£ied, then £ed back to

its codi£iers, who codi£y i t yet again.

Cultural authority is thus posited as a goal in need

o£ strategic accomplishment. Members o£ all sorts o£

groups codi£y knowledge so as to generate solidarity - and

 5

hence control- over other members. Codifying knowledge

helps individuals act in collective, and hence,

controllable, ways, making the perpetuation of collectives

more feasible. At the same time, the successful

codification of knowledge produces authorities who are

better versed in its particulars. This has generated broad

questions over who constitutes a cultural authority, or

how one establishes and perpetuates oneself as an

authority.

The workings of cultural authority become

particularly interesting when realized through the form of

collective memory. Collective memory offers cultural

arbiters a speci£ic dimension on which to exercise the

full spread of their power across time and space. It is,

in G.H. Mead's view, a way of using the past to give

meaning to the present ~t· Using memory as an "instrument

of reconfiguration" rather than retrieval has been most

effectively discussed in the work of Maurice Halbwachs 5.

In Halbwach's view, collective memory constitutes memories

of a shared past by those who experience it. Collective

memories are envisaged from the viewpoint of the group,

whose conscious and strategic efforts have kept i t alive

~.:;.
Remembering, and forgetting, helps groups and

institutions --locate in memory an earlier version o£ 8e1£

with which to measure the current version" '7. Collective

 6

[Link] re£lects a group's codi£ied knowledge over time

about what is important, pre£erred and appropriate.

Relevant to this discussion is the notion o£ critical

incidents, by which members o£ groups and institutions

locate certain events in collective memory in a way that

helps them reinterpret collective nations o£ practice.

Critical incidents are what Claude Levi-Strauss once

called "hot moments~"' those moments or events through

which a society or culture assesses its significance 1<3

They provide moments in discourse by which members o£

groups are able to negotiate their own boundaries o£

practice, through discussion and cultural argumentation 9

These ideas bear particular relevance £or an

examination o£ journalistic authority, the speci£ic case

o£ cultural authority by which journalists determine their

right to present authoritative versions o£ the world

through stories o£ real-li£e events. Journalists have long

had access to varied situations technological,

narrative, institutional and others- through which they

have e££ectively perpetuated their memories o£ critical

incidents. Their ability to shape memories in accordance

with what they see as pre£erred and strategically

important has directly a££ected their assumption o£

positions o£ cultural authority. In other words,

journalists' memories o£ certain strategic events have

 7

long been fashioned in accordance with collective aims of

establishing themselves as an independent interpretive

cornmunity~ although this is one aspect of journalistic

practice that has rarely been examined.

Notions of authority have long figured among

journalists as a key to their efficient production and

presentation of news. Much journalistic practice has been

seen as a type of ··undercover work," where journalists

have presented events through explanatory frames that

construct reality but reveal neither the secrets, sources

nor methods of such a process Journalism has

traditionally displayed only partial pictures of real-life

events to audiences, and journalists have rarely made

explicit the authority they use to change "quasi" or

partial accounts into complete chronicles of events. At

the aame time, journalists' mode o£ event selection,

formation and presentation ultimately hinges on how they

justify their decisions to construct the news in one way

and not another, bringing some notion of authority

directly into the daily accomplishment of journalistic

work. Acting appropriately lias journalists" thus depends

on a reporter's ability to change codified knowledge in

consensual ways. Collective memory, as the vessel of

codified knowledge across time and space, reflects a

 8

reshaping o:f the parameters o:f appropriate practice

through which journalists construct themselves as cultural

authorities.

Journalistic authority helps explain journalistic

practice in two ways: One has to do with the stature o:f

journalism as a pro:fession; the other is the notion that

authority is basically an act o£ transmission.

,:J:g UR.M.~I"I§-'IJ9....___(;;OM M1!!'!TIY .;_._. FR0l1

JNJ:§:BYB£:.TJYIL9Jd.!i!'!1I..!LI T '[
Journalists have been generally organized into

communities with requisite bodies o:f codi:fied knowledge

via the notion o£ '·professions l

• ~~. Professions have been

de£ined as an ideological orientation toward the

production o£ work, realized via certain combinations of

skill, autonomy, training and education, testing o:f

competence,. organization, codes of conduct,. licensing and

service orientation :lo:=: Taken together, these traits

generate a shared notion o£ community £or the individuals

who comprise such communities.

Standardized codes o£ knowledge play a large part in

maintaining and perpetuating traits o£ pro£essionalism, at

the same time as they help pro£essionals to maintain

themselves as communities 13 Everett Hughes' much-cited

reformulation of Ilia this occupation a profession ll into

"what are the circumstances in which people in an

occupation attempt to turn it into a pro£ession and

themselves into pro£essional people" signalled such a

concern '4. Via standardized codes o£ knowledge, Hughes

suggested, "profession" was turned into a symbolic label

£or a desired shared status o£ actors .m.

Examining journalism as a pro£ession, however, has

yielded an unclear picture. Unlike the "classically-

de£ined" professions o£ medicine or law, where

pro£essionals legitimate their actions via socially-

recognized paths o£ training, education or licensing, the

trappings o£ pro£essionalism have not been required £or

journalists to practice in the pro£ession: Journalists

there£ore do not readily attend journalism schools and

training programs or read journalism textbooks IS. Codes

o£ journalistic behavior are not written down, with

training considered instead a "combination o£ osmosis and

fiat .. j. '7
Journalistic codes o£ ethics remain largely non-

existent,. and most journalists routinely reject licensing

procedures Journalists are also unattracted to

pro£essional associations,. with the largest pro£essional

association - the Society o£ Pro£essional Journalists,

Sigma Delta Chi - claiming only 17% membership o£ American

journalists ''''.

Journalists thereby act as members o£ a pro£essional

collective in only a limited sense. Their rejection o£

 10

training and prescribed codes o£ conduct, licensing and

professional organizations, or cades o£ ethics suggests

that the IIpro£ession" o£ journalism has not sufficiently

addressed the needs o£ its journalist members. As one

researcher suggested, "the modern journalist is Q_i. a

profession but not .!.!l one ... the institutional £orms of

professionalism likely will always elude the journalist"

Two features o£ journalism have been most affected

through a near-exclusive understanding o£ journalists as

"professional" communities. One has been the emergent view

o£ journalists as "unsuccess:ful professionals": In this

light, journalistic professionalism is faulted for

promoting IItrained incapacity" News professionalism

is Been as emerging from specific methoq~ o£ work

(particularly, identifying and verifying facts) rather

than answering to a combination of (supposedly laudatory)

predetermined traits or condi tiona 8:1",~ This perhaps

explains why contemporary journalists have continued to

cling to the notion of a fully-describable "objective"

world, despite the increasing popularity of philosophical

and sociological views to the contrary

Another feature affected by the emphasis on

professionalism are those traits of journalism not found

in other occupations and therefore not part of more

 11

general perspectives on professionalism: Most obvious here

are the generic and stylistic considerations of news

narrative .. IIHow to tell a news-story," distinctions

between fact and fiction. general stylistic determinants

and speci£ic conventions o£ the news genre all have

occupied journalists for decades yet are present in few

discussions o£ journalistic professionalism

This suggests that existing models of professions

have offered a basically restrictive way of viewing

journalistic practice, journalistic "'pro£essionalism,"

journalistic communities and collective lore, and, hence,

journalistic authority. The organization of journalists

into professional collectives has not provided a complete

picture of how and why journalism works. This does not

mean that the collectivity represented by professionalism

does. not exist among journalists. It does suggest,

however. that it may be generated by notions other than

those offered by formalized codes of professionalism.

Viewing journalists as an informally-coalesced

interpretive community suggests an alternate way of

examining their collectivity. Sociological studies of news

organizations have long maintained that journalists' high

degree of specialization and expertise has prompted the

replacement of vertical management with horizontal

management. thereby substituting collegial authority for

 12

hierarchial authority Journalists absorb rules,

boundaries and a sense of appropriateness about their

actions without ever actually being informed of them by

superiorsu This generally laissez-£aire environment,

called by Tunstall a "non-routine bureaucracy," has

generated a certain degree o£ "creative autonomy" £or and

among journalists It is against the background of such

creative autonomy that a sense of journalistic community

emerges. Within these boundaries, cultural discussion

takes place, with journalists accomplishing work by

negotiating, discussing and challenging other journalists,

This suggests the existence of a shared collective or

institutional frame which both exists beyond specific news

organizations and upon which journalists rely when

engaging in cultural discussion and argumentation,

All of this highlights the relevance of examining

journalists as an interpretive community. An interpretive

community is defined by Hymes as a group called a

IIspeech community" that is united by its shared

interpretations of reality ~7. Fish furthers the notion by

claiming that interpretive communities are those who

produce texts and "determine the shape of what is read"

Scholarship in anthropology, folklore and literary

studies holds that interpretive communities display

 13

certain patterns of authority, communication and memory in

their dealings with each other a point exemplified by

[Link]' regular references to stories about Walter

Cronkite or Watergate in their discussions of appropriate

journalism. The idea that journalists constitute an

interpretive community, a group that authenticates itself

through interpretations furthered by its narratives and

rhetoric, suggests that they circulate knowledge amongst

themselves through channels other than the textbooks,

training coun'!.e", and credentialling procedures stressed by

formalized codes of professionalism, and that they have

ways of collectively legitimating their actions that have

little to do with the pro£ession's formalized

accoutrements. This does not mean that other professional

communities, such as doctors or lawyers, do not do the

same .. Nor does i t mean that the journalistic community is

not concerned with professionalism, only that it activates

its concern through its discourse about itself, and the

collective memories on which it is based.

Such an idea directs the analytical focus of

journalists toward alternate attributes of community

such as the individual, organization and institution, or

structure of the profession - all of which may provide

different motivations far establishing journalistic

authority than those implied by discussions of different

 14

journalistic tasks and routines .. It suggests that

commonplace discourse about distinctions between reporters

such as those differentiating beat reporters from

generalists,. columnists £rom copy-writers, anchorpersons

from health correspondents - may figure less centrally in

journalistic discourse than motivations concerning the

individual, organization and institution, and structure o£

the profession. In other words, professional literature

may have done little to elucidate the role discourse plays

in unifying journalists into an interpretive community.

This study thus examines the journalistic community

not only as a pro£ession, as suggested by sociology, but

as an interpretive community, as suggested by literary

studies, folklore and anthropology. Such a consideration

explores the narrative relay of collective codes of

knowledge, as they exist in both tacit and explicit

discursive forms substituting commonly-regarded

distinctions between journalists with dimensions assumed

to figure into the workings of journalism as an

interpretive community individual dimensions,

organizational/institutional dimensions, and

professional/structural dimensions, each of which will be

shown to interact in journalists' promotion of themselves

as an interpretive community. Through shared narrative

lore, reporters espouse collective values and notions that

 15

help them produce and present news. This suggests that

journalists £unction together as much as apart, presumably

guided by certain notions that are suggested in their

nal."'rati vee .. This study thereby raises a number o£

questions about how journalists use narrative to

legitimate their right as a community to preaent the news.

How are such narratives perpetuated? What role, i£ any,

does authority play in the construction and perpetuation

o£ certain narratives over others? How do journalists

arrive at seemingly "collective" ways of legitimating

their actions and shared assumptions about their

authority? How do narratives change over time and space?

What role does memory play in generating a body o£

collective knowledge? Approaching the journalistic

community as an interpretive community thus attends to the

establishment o£ authority through narrative.

A second reason that a consideration o£ journalistic

authority enhances understanding of journalistic practice

has to do with conceptions o£ authority already in the

field. Media researchers have not provided a complete

picture o£ the relevance o£ journalistic authority £or

journalists. For roughly the past decade, they have relied

Upon notions of linearity, e££ect and in£luence in

conceptualizing relevant angles o£ "journalistic

 16

authority." Authority has been conceptualized in three

basic ways - as an e££ect on audiences~ an effect on

organizational actors, or an e££ect on wide-ranging socio-

cultural systems.

Studies of political effects have conceptualized

journalistic authority as a one-on-one correllation

between journalists and IIwhat audiences

believe" ~'. This focus adopts a linear perspective as a

frame for the entire communication process, with

journalistic authority- or "credibility" - seen as a

function of the believability i t induces in audiences.

Journalistic authority is evaluated in accordance with the

proportional slice of audiences that appraise a news-story

(and, by implication, a journalist or medium) as

believable. Authority is thus ultimately reduced to the

tangible effect it is seen as having on audiences. As

Weaver and Rimmer maintain, they are interested in seeing

"how credible (trustworthy, unbiased, complete, accurate)

newspapers and television news were perceived (by

audiences) to bel' 3~~

A second group of studies, tentatively labelled here

"organizational studies," has regarded journalistic

authority as a set of strategies by which actors jockey

for power within the news organization Journalistic

authority is seen here as the power by which journalists

 17

co-exist as organizational actors. These studies have

focused on organizational strategies which allow

journalists to generate authority as organizational

actors. Derived from Warren Breed's classic study of

social control in the newsroom they hold that

journalists are engaged in strategic behavior to gain

influence over others. Strategies by which this occurs

include time management~ imposing predictable frames for

organizing resources, mitigating interpersonal conflict,

routinization and purposive behavior 35.

Yet a third body of studies has applied a linear

£rame to larger socio-cultural configurations

Journalistic authority is seen here as a social

construction reflecting larger socio-cultural questions of

power and domination .. IIAuthority" is taken as a marker £or

some socio-economic or political power which determines

how news is constructed. Gallagher, for example, contends

that media performances are determined by media ownership

':;')'7 Other studies have £ocused on how external issues o£

power and domination are co-opted within news discourse

Each of these three conceptions thereby reflects a

basically linear view o£ the communication processs By

examining how authority is effected on others, they echo

What has been called a IItransmission" view of

 18

communication, tithe extension o£ messages across geography

for the purpose of control, .~.and in£luence ll

:::~9. While

IInon-transmission ll dimensions undoubtedly figure within

such conceptions, they nonetheless subordinate all

considerations of authority to a consideration of its

effect on others .. This has tailored explorations of

journalistic authority to notions of influence, ignoring

its possible internally-directed effects on those who make

messages, the communicators.

Yet an alternate view of authority is offered by

folklore and anthropology, where authority is viewed

primarily as an act of ritual that binds members of

communities together in strategic ways. Victor Turner

views rituals as moments in space and time where groups

are solidified by questioning authority Roger Abrahams

regards cultural performances of all sorts as a means o£

internal group authentication 41. James Carey maintains

that the ritual view o£ cornmunication is lithe sacred

ceremony which draws persons together in fellowship and

commonality •.• through sharing, participation, association,

fellowship and the possession of a common faith"

Ritual sets up periods of marked intensification and gives

members of a community a way to question and ratify basic

notions about authority. In this view, authority is seen

as a construct of community, functioning as the stuff that

 19

keeps communities together. This allows observers to ask

how authority creates a sense of community among the

communicators who employ it. All of this has particular

relevance for journalists, for i t addresses previously-

unanswered questions about how journalists uae

credibility, power or authority for themselves, regardless

o£ its connection with audiences, organizational set-ups

or larger socia-cultural questions of power.

I have suggested two points that are basic to an

alternate view of the establishment and perpetuation of

journalistic authority. Briefly restated, they argue:

1) Existing studies on" journalistic authority" have

conceptualized it as .. transmission II among audiences rather

than uritual" among communicators .. They have thus

overlooked aspects of establishing authority which

generate a collective journalistic lore in legitimating

amongst journalists their right to present the news.

2) A collective lore is created through codified

knoldedge, yet codified knowledge among journalists has

been assumed to emerge via channels connected with

formalized codes of professionalism. How journalists

codify institutional knowledge about authority through

discourse may thus have been overlooked. One potentially

fruitful way of re-examining journalists is through their

 20

£unction as an interpretive community, a group that

collectively authenticates itsel£ through its narratives

and collective memories.

This study examines journalistic authority along both

o£ these newly-£ormulated lines: It assumes that messages

about journalistic authority £unction to keep the

journalistic community together, used by reporters as a

ritual act o£ solidarity and commonality; it also assumes

that journalists £unction as an interpretive community,

keeping itsel£ together through its narratives and

collective memories. This study thereby a sks h.9~ __!t9"t".!...q!l§:'

9.,L_~g'!'!!':.!:!l'!.LL'!!..t i.£..._....~.th9r i 1:cy._.....!'!.!':.!"_..!,,s j:. ab 1 i s..!:>..§l..9...._.BY....-'!ill9..._..!'!.,!,_9.!.'..9.

i2!!!:I!.a 1 i,..§ t!L_.j;.J)'£Q.~,gJ!_.!:!.!'!.I.:!.'."S,j._v e ____'m9..J:!..9_'[Link];1§lj...!:_.§!.§.!=,..§b ~.i".!;;..t:>!!!§,!J:t;...

g_~l}.§'r.S!.te.e;__ .f.p_"-~..9_1,!..r.:!l.!'!J.i s t,:'.'._.!'!.._£o ~J..§.ct i V_EL-lPX_§.. f!Y_._'d.!:>..i,s:JL..1h.!"Y.

1.§l.9:.U i '!!.!'!1.§....t..I:l.I§!.i LI.:.!.,gJ:>_t_.,.!;...9__ p'r.§.s"l!lJ;._. the new.§..

Within this question are embedded three sets o£

secondary issues that are relevant both to understanding

the establishment o£ journalistic authority and its

potential role in consolidating a collective lor'e £or

journalists:

Tentatively

de£ining journalistic authority

j..9.l!:r:..!!.!'!J-.i§t§l .... to ...Rr 9,!)9t e .....t Q..Ei'l'!!"_Ei'J-,':':§l-"'.l'!§. ...tJ)..§... !?Y.t!:>2..r.:[Link]'!.!=,..!...v_E!......§.I:l.c:!.

9...._§S.tt9..1SL..__§pgJ:[Link]'.!il.!?.sqRJ.§ ....fpr: __..1;h§.....l'l,':':§!J.!=,..!L2.i......!='.t:>..~_::£§£!.!:.:....J'!.Q£l9.,

 21

it asks whether journalistic authority is established

through narrative;

- H 0~ __:l",_.j9.!!E!l?.li_'" t i_,,-~u th 0Ltl;,Y_-.P.§:rP_§:f::._1,l_..:f::.",q?

\!lJl.. j;.__ .st9_S'_~_j2..ty;_I:\§_l,J..§J·_~£ ___?-,,,.j;.)}.Q-'Z}._ty____ j.J:!St!,yj, d uj;!.H_y __.:S!.nci..

[Link].J§,_g.j;j,y S'J,.y____.'!!.S'_<.t!L_J:._Q___.j9J,!Ht§J.J.§J;,.§.? The 5 t ud y con 5 ide r s

whether shared notions of authority differ from individual

notions. It also asks whether notions change with the

passage of time, and, if so, how; whether journalistic

authority helps journalists accomplish journalistic work;

whether journalistic authority plays a part in

consolidating a collective lore for journalists; and what

role memory plays in establishing and perpetuating

journalistic authority.

The assassination of John F. Kennedy provides one

fruitful locus for considering all of the above-formulated

questions. The Kennedy assassination brings together the

threads on which this study is based: It constitutes a

critical incident in the annals of American journalism p

offering an effective stage on which to gauge the

establishment and perpetuation of journalistic authority;

it offers a way to examine journalists as an interpretive

community engaged in ritual and/or cultural transactions

with other journalists; and its persistence as a story

 22

over time highlights the importance o£ narrative and

memory ..

IH)L_"'_~~A~§JJ\IA:LLQN_i!_~ __9J:!nI9A!"_J N~J:.pgN.I.

The assassination provides a turning point in the

evolution o£ American journalistic practice not only

because it called for the rapid relay of information

during a time of crisis p but because it consolidated the

emergence o£ televised journalism as a mediator o£

national public experience ''''. The immediate demand £or

journalistic expertise and eyewitness testimony which

characterized this event in part called £or public

reliance upon the credibility and centrality o£

journalists £or its clari£ication. Journalists not only

used recognizable practices to cover the events o£

Kennedy's death, but improvised within the con£iguration

o£ di££erent circumstances and new technologies to meet

ongoing demands £or in£ormation. Journalists have since

used the event to discuss collective visions about

appropriate journalistic practice by re£erencing practices

which they or other journalists adopted during those four

November days 44.

All o£ this suggests that the Kennedy assassination

has £unctioned as a critical incident against which

journalists negotiate their own pro£essional boundaries.

They have used it to discuss, challenge and negotiate the

 23

boundaries of appropriate practice. This wide-ranging

cultural argumentation has been made possible by the

journalistic treatment accorded it 4m. This has made the

Kennedy assassination a particularly fruitful locus for

narratives about journalistic practice and authority. The

following pages thereby explore how journalists have

reconstructed their coverage of the Kennedy assassination

over time, with an eye to examining how it has emerged as

critical to journalists forming collective notions of

community, practice and authority through discourse.

The assassination story has been perpetuated as an

independent and finite tale within collective memory.

Central to retellings of the events of Kennedy's death

were pictorial repetitions of the images of that weekend.

Images included the shootings of Kennedy and Oswald.

Caroline Kennedy and her mother kneeling beside the

coffin, John-John's respectful salute, the eternal flame

and the riderless horse. These moments - captured by the

media in various £orms have been replayed as markers of

the nation's collective memory each time the story of

Kennedy's death is recounted.

Narrative has brought these images together in

meaningful ways, lending them unity, and temporal and

spatial sequencing. Narratives which persisted bear

 24

collective authority Equally important, they lend

stature to the people who inscribed them in collective

consciousness.

Collective remembering of the Kennedy assassination

has thus been more actor-based than not, accomodating not

only assassination memories, but the people who generated

and in certain cases created them. As Ulric Neisser

observed in his critique of theories about 'flashbulb

memories":

Memories become flashbulbs primarily through the

significance that is attached to them
afterwards: Later that day, the next day, and in
subsequent months and years. What requires
explanation is the long endurance (of the
memory) ..e"O?

Implicit within assassination memories has thus evolved a

natural place for journalists as bearers o£ such

recollections. To an extent this has fit in with a more

general concern for the past, which has become "a

persistent presence in the American mind"' 48 Yet more

important, it has evolved into a strategic accomplishment

on the part of American journalists as memory-bearers.

It makes sense to again recall the afore-mentioned

claim that communication activities always have ritual

functions for groups engaging in them. The assassination

of John F. Kennedy has traditionally been approached as

 25

what might be considered a study in transmission. Scholars

have considered how many people knew what, how long it

took them to know it, and who they knew it £rom. This was

thoroughly accomplished in a collection o£ research

studies edited by Bradley Greenberg and Edwin Parker back

in It has also been the perspective adopted by

other scholarly treatments o£ the assassination coverage

But this overlooks what Turner, Carey and others

would call the "ritual" dimensions o£ the assassination

story, examining what its relay has meant to the

journalistic community itsel£. This study thus explores

what the assassination has meant to the journalists who

covered it, and how they have used narratives about their

coverage to consolidate themselves into an authoritative

interpretive community. In short, it explores how coverage

o£ the events o£ Kennedy's death has helped make American

journalists into cultural authorities.

In so doing, this study stresses issues and practices

o£ narrative, context and memory. It traces how

journalists have treated the assassination story in

narrative, and explores the ways they have turned it on

angles critical to their own sel£-legitimation. Recalling

Giddens, Durkheim and Halbwachs, it examines how

journalists have used narrative practice as a means of

 26

collectively representing shared codes of knowledge, which

they in turn have fed back into the community to set

themselves up as cultural authorities.

§IB1LGTURE _0L§IllPj~
The analysis in this study was predicated on a

systematic examination of journalists' published public

discourse over the past 27 years. How journalists have

recounted their role in covering the assassination was

traced in the printed press, trade and professional

reviews, documentary films, television retrospectives,

books, and journal articles ~~.

The study is divided into four sections:

- §.Ellb TI N_~.A.!:!§A§§I!:!!lJ:.;r OILT AJ".5.!:!,

This section provides the general background against

which journalists have been able to tell the assassination

story. It situates the events of the assassination against

the more general cultural and historical context of the

time, including the state of journalistic professionalism,

the emergence o£ television news, shifting boundaries of

cultural authority and the reflexivity o£ sixties'

narratives. Each of these elements is discussed in

conjunction with journalists' ability to promote

themselves as authoritative spokespeople for the events of

Kennedy's death. This section also explores the centrality

 27

or strategies or rhetorical legitimation in journalistic

practice.

This section conveys the original narrative corpus or

the assassination story, rrom which journalists have

worked their retellings over time. It examines the

accounts or actually covering Kennedy's death as they were

rorwarded by journalists at the time and compares them

with journalists' initial reconstructions of the same

stories in the weeks immediately following the

assassination. From this corpus of narratives, journalists

have worked through narrative adjustment to reconsider and

recast the story in systematic and creative ways over 27

years.

This section examines larger shifts in boundaries of

cultural authority, which have had bearing on the ability

of journalists to gain credence ror their versions of the

assassination story. It details how official assassination

memories were first de-authorized and the assassination

record made accessible to alternate retaIlers seeking to

reconsider its events, journalists among them. This

section explores how journalists have authenticated

themselves over other retellers attempting to accomplish

 28

the same aim. Larger developments concerning documentary

process and the role of memory are suggested to have

upheld journalists' attempts to emerge as the

assassination's preferred retellers.

This section explores how journalists have

perpetuated themselves as authorized spokepeople of the

assassination story across time and space. It considers

how journalists have kept their narratives alive, by

embedding them within recognizable memory systems. Three

separate memory systems are considered celebrity,

professional lore, and history- which journalists have

employed to effectively perpetuate their assassination

narratives and their authoritative role as retellers.

Situating, telling, accessing and perpetuating - each

activity is suggested as a central part of establishing

and perpetuating journalists as authorized spokespeople

for the events of Kennedy's death. Through these

mechanisms, this study traces out the canonization by

journalists of one of contemporary American history's

central moments.

,. Peter B er ger , ;Ln v i :t=..E!.:!;'J...9XL._to SC?9j,. Q.~;_..""_Ii'd.l!!§I1.;i,..§.:I:..;Lc;;.

!:.".'£.",p_".'£.1:;iv.~
(Garden City, 1963), p. 57.
'" Em i Ie Du r k h e i m • Ih e __ g.±.§'_'!l."'_':!.:I:..§l.:r..lLf.Q£!~.§'-2.:L.t..!l".'__.R ~:!'A9J.9.>"L"'.
~~fg [New York: Free Press, 1915 (reprinted 1965)].
" An th on y G i d d en s • Q§'!:!.t..'.::.?.!._.!:.'!:.QJ?J,.".'.ffi§.....i 11_..:::i.Q"-L"!.L.I.!l".'.9x'y'
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979), p. 69.
 29

" G. H. ~!ea d , I.!l~_Ph :LL'2§_D.p'!:>'y'._9.:f..J:,l> e .-£~:§' se n.t. ( Ch i c a g .0 :

University .of Chicag.o Press, 1932).
~ Natalie Zemon Davis and [Link] Starn, "[Link],"
B.§P!:.§!.€i§'-'!.:i=."!.tJ.'2D..§. (Spring 1989), p. 2.
/ii, Ma uri c e Ha I bwa c:h s , :rJ:!.~._.g9.:I..J..eC!j:,.J.Y.~.J:I.~!I\.'2.:r.Y (N e w Y.0 r k :
Harper and Row, 1980; translated from !".!'!...!'1.~.!I\.qJ..F-§.
c:ol..!..~ctJ..Y.§!., Presse Universitaire de France, 1950). p. 33.
:;;····F r ed Da vis , 'L~-'~!:!!.!..!29.....:f o!:_....y' es te!:.Q.?'y ( G len coe : The Free
Press, 1979), p. 45.
,. Claude Levi ·Strauss, Ih.!"'.....?.!'!.Y!'[Link].!11I!.Q. (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1966) •
• The term is borrowed from George Gerbner, "Cultural
Indicators: The Third Voice," in G. Gerbner, L. Gross and
W. Mel od y, gom mYnA.9.§1.!..9J:l.€i.I.!"'.<:=JUlg.!99Y...lL'l9... e.9S::j..!'!.!...P.9.±.!"SY.:.
1J.!!(;:L~l':€i.1:;.!'i!!.Q.!mLj;'!:,-<;!.. Ne.'!.....:"[Link] a l,_..R~_YJ?±.'dt.;!,gn.:~ ( New Yo r k: J oh n
Wiley and Sons, 1973).
10 These points are suggested in a range of sources,
incl uding Tom Goldstein, I.l:l."[Link].!"'.!!1§..At._~ny....g..os..t. (New York:
Simon and Schuster, 1985) .or James Carey, "The Dark
[Link] .of American Journalism," in R.K. [Link] and
Michael Schudson (eds.), 8§'.ad!..!lSL.t.h§!..JI!.~!!I,s (New York:
Pantheon Books, 1986).
1 ,. This includes Magali Sarfatti Larson, I.l)..~..J:lA.§§!.....2.f..
12.:r.9f_<;!,[Link]!.9.!..-L~ll). (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1977); Eliot Friedson, !2!:9.:f.§§.§.io.r.!!'i.±_!2.9W§!:..§. (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1986); Philip Elliott,
e9SJ.912.9.y.....pf....:th"l..12.!:.9f "'_§.§.~.QI!.§' (London: McMi llan, 1972); or
Morris Janowitz, "Professional Models in Journalism: The
Ga t e ke eper and the Ad v oca t e," ,I-QY.l':P.!'i.±.J.§1!LJ;[Link].§'.!:J._Y. ( Win te r
1975) .
•• See Larson, 1977. Also see Wilbert Moore, The
12;r::.of "'.S8 Jg-':>-';;_L.K9.!. ~-",_..an.c:L.~y 1 ~§. ( New Yor k : R u 88 e 11 Sa g e
Foundation, 1970) and Terence Johnson, P.;r::.Q.f.<;!§'§'!,Q.!l.!''-....9P.Q.
l2.9!;!.§.!: (London: MacMillan, 1972).
13 Larson, 1977.
1 4 Cited in Johnson, 1972, p.31; also Elliott, 1972.
1~ This somewhat recalls Howard Becker's discussion of
"profession" as a symbol only partly realized in real·life
[See Ho.,ard Becker, "The Nature of a Profession," in
[Link].S.!tl-J&!:Lf QL.!-J:>!? ....!?r o:£.§.s s.!..9.D.'§' (S i xt Y • fir s t y ea r boo k of
National Society for the Study of Education, 1962).
Repr inted in eQ.s.!.9_![Link],_C'!1......[Link]:. (New Brunswick, New Jersey:
Transaction Books, 1970)] •
• ~, J .Johnstone, E. Sla.,ski and W. Bo.,man, I.!:>.§'.. Ne-'~.."'......!?§QR!.§'.
(Urbana: University of [Link] Press, 1976); David Weaver
and G. Cleveland Wilhoi t, :Ll:!.o§'!. .itlJ).§!.;:.~S9.D...._.;rg.q;r::.!l§!.!A§:1:;.
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986). Also see
Lee Beck e r et a 1 ., TJ:!.§ ....T.:r" <\'!'-'-'.~_!l.9__§.n d_.H i r:J.!l.9._.gL...J 0 'd;r::!!,,,!.±.!.-,,,_t§.
(Norwood, New Jersey: Able", 1987). Says one new,s-editor:
'"Now~ of course p we have schools of journalism. Most
 30

publications these days - not all, thank God - recruit

from schools of journalism. This means they are recruiting
from the bottom 40% of the population, since, on the
whole, bright students do not go to schools of journalism"
<Irv ing Kr istol, Q'd.l.:: ...9.9_"'_p_trL.S!!ll...Q.'Jl.::....G.'dJJ;,'d;£.§. (New York:
Orwell Press, 1983), p. 82 .
• 7 Goldstein, 1985.
:l9 See, for instance, Clement Jones, ~§~§~§,,_!1.§.g.A.§!.._Q.Q..ge~~:[
!;ih.t.g~LS!ng.... gQ1!P£i. J,_§. (New York: UNESCO Publications, 1980)
or Rob er t S ch muh 1, T.h!§'_R'§"§P'QX!.§Jb i Jj,.:\:,.t..§.",--C!.:L._LQ1!EP3"J.i.§.".'.
(Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984). Also
see Goldstein, 1985, p. 165. This does not mean that
licensing, or credentialling, does not come into play for
journalists on a more pragmatic level: The limited
credentials which are issued by police departments for
reasons of I'security", £or instance, are often used by
journalists to gain access to events for which said
credentials have no obvious link. As David Halberstam once
said, "your press card is really a social credit card"
[quoted in Bernard Rubin, 9.H..§§.i:,[Link]!.i..P..9:. _..!:te<l:h.§... _!;.:!;.i}j,.g§. (New
York: Praeger Publications, 1978), p. 16] .
• ~ Weaver and Wilhot, 1986.
,;;", I.9..!.<::!., P • 145 •
"',. Gaye Tuchman, "Professionalism as an Agent of
Legitimation," Ig.'d..".rL~L_Q!.. .9g'-"-'-"-."'.!'..:\.S.§.:t:.[Link]. (Spring 1978).
;~;" Michael Schudson, P..!§_coye>:_!.!l9..._t!:>,.§....l'.§'.Y.'..!'!. (Ne'" York: Basic
Books, 1978; Tuchman, 1978.
""" Carey, 1986; Schudson, 1978; Dan Schi ller, 9J:?j,,§S.!:i..Y_tJ;,y.
§..m:L_i:,h.~_ ...~e.\i§. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 1981). More general philosophical views are found
in Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann, T_Q.§......?.9S..i._?J.
G_QP_§.t.F.'df'.1:_j..QP..gL.K~§.;U.:!;'.Y. (New Yor k: Anchor Books, 1969) or
Michael Polanyi, P!§,."_§.9D..§J_~Rc::>.'1..J&9g..§. (Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1962)
~:::"".j- For example, see Robert Darnton, "Writing News and
Telling Stories," R_§_~g."'.1.'d.§. (Spring 1975) or Michael
Schudson, "The Pol i tics of Narrati ve Form," pa",pa1.'ds
(Fall, 1982). The avoidance o£ story-telling constraints
in discussions of news professionalism is especially
problematic due to the recent eruption o£ a number of
institutional breaches precisely along the fact-fiction
distinction - the Janet Cooke scandal, the reportorial
invention of a British army gunner in Belfast, or the case
o£ Chr i stopher Jones, the ~.~.'1. ... y.9£!!:...1J.."l§l.§....!:1.~-'~."'-:L'!.'?. reporter
who plagiarized portions of his <fictitious) report on the
Khmer Rouge from a novel by Andre Malraux [See David
Eason, "On Journalistic Authority: The Janet Cooke
Scandal," in Critical Studies in Mass Communication 3
(1986), pp. 429::·4·7~·-·;;;'nd-Sh~ii~-Y·-Fi;hki;:;-;·-["i.9.;;;:=Ei~i ..:t",-
 31

Ei [Link].I,j,g!1-1.__l..q-',!En~J.;i,..§ m~n.<:I....+'.,!,.S'g.;i,_'1S'J;,AY.§_.\'l r [Link].n.....Affi.§'.:t' i c "".

(Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1985)].
",,,, See Peter Blau and M. Meyer, )2.1,l.:.;:.§.S'.l,!£E.£l'::::.Y.......An_....!1.Q.<:I!2.:.;:.D.
~£[Link]iety. (New York: Random House, 1956). For applications
in news arganizations]1 see Gaye Tuchman, ti§l..l5j·.!!.9_N_E!.~.~.
(Glencoe: The Free Press, 1978; Mark Fishman,
!'L".!:l.!!:f? c t-'!L!.!:>'~Lth§'.J!.E!.Y' s. (A u s tin: Un i v er sit Y o£ T e x a s Press,
1980); Herbert Gans, R§.£j._<:IJ..D.9..Wha.1..:§._~_"'~.§. (New York:
Pantheon, 1979). Also see Bernard Roshco, !'Lewsmak!'!:!.9.
(Chicago: University o£ Chicago Press, 1975).
""e. Jeremy Tunstall, oI.Q.l,!!'_I}J'l_J,..[Link],'?_.A.t......W.<?!'_ls. (Bever 1 y HillIs:
Sage, 1971). Also see Itzhak Roeh, Elihu Katz, Akiba Cohen
and Bar b i e Ze 1 i zer, iU.m.Q.§'i..!:LL<:InAfIb_t,;.....Il.§'J.:.Q.:r..ffi..!D.9.._t,h."-_1..£l_t..?::.
!'L!.[Link]~", (Beverly Hi lIs: Sage, 1980) •
• 7 Hymes delineates seven £actors at play in a speech
community - a sender, receiver p message p channel, code l
topic and context [Dell Hymes, ·'Functions o£ Speech," in
j,._~.[lS.1,I..s!.9.§L..i 1}... ggY£.S'..tJ.2.!:l. ( Wa sh i ng ton, D. C.: Cen ter £ or
Applied Linguistics, 1980), p. 2].
,c,'" St an 1 ey Fish, ;I: s_'ttl.§!:_"'-...[Link] e"t.....!.ll._T.!:>-.A.§.....g.±. S'. §.§..£.
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980), p. 171.
•• In folklore, scholarship on the £olk group and
narrative is exemplified in Alan Dundes, "What is
Folklore?' in [Link]!2 .. §[Link]!y_.of ..E.<?.1I<.[Link]..?. (Englewood Cli£fs:
Prentice-Hall, 1965) or Linda Degh, "Folk Narrative," in
Richard M. Dorson, E.91 k..19..LE!.. _'ll!s!_ ..FqJJ.l;!..:i.f.,. (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1972).
3el For instance,. a recent report on the world o£ the
working journalist conducted for the American Society of
Newspaper Editors, discussed at length the causes o£
(social) isolation among journalists, patterns of
organizational communication, management p and reported job
satis£action, yet did not examine the ways in which
knowledge by journalists about journalists takes shape
[See Judee Burgoon, et al., "What Is News? Who Decides?
And How? " P..E.!?.±'j._lI\.;LI:t~IT_.B!2.12..q.:r.1_q.!:L....:!;.!:>- e ._Wo Ll.Q..._Qi.._t.h.§._W..QJ':J:<;.!.D9:
[Link]-"'_'1~..1Jst. (Michigan State University, 1982). This is,
however, ef£ectively explored in Michael Schudson, "What
Is A Reporter: The Private Face o£ Public Journalism," in
James Carey, MedA£l...._.11.Y:1h.'?....S'..!}d .. Na!:£a1;.J. V§.§'.. (Beverly Hi lIs:
Sage, 1988).
31 One recent formulation of this perspective was provided
by Tony Rimmer and David Weaver, "Different Questions,
Di£ferent Answers: Media Use and Media Credibility,"
oIQ..Y.:r.!1§1.;tt§.!".....9.1,I..~Ej::,§.L:L..Y. (1987), pp. 28-36. Other examples
include Eugene Shaw, "Media Credibility: Taking the
Measure of a Measure," Lq.!o!:r.D..I';lJ..!.§J1l..J;;IB.S'.:r.j::,.§'.Uy 50 (1973), pp.
306-11 or R.F. Carter and Bradley Greenberg, "Newspapers
or Television: Which Do You Believe?" [Link]!'.I1_~1.t..§J~.. _g.1,I.£[Link]§..:r.J..y.
42 (1965),pp. 22-34.
 32

sa Rimmer and Weaver, 1987, p. 36.

33 This includes a rich body of material from sociology,
including Tuchman, 1978; Fishman, 1980; or Gans, 1979.
zm"':l- Warren Breed.. "Social Control in the Newsroom,. II ~.9CA5t!.
Forces (1955).
;,;;_.:5-;;;.;;;. Gaye Tuchman, "Mak ing News By Doing Work," Am!!"xJ. S".",_':!.
;[9.)..1£."-§t1.__'?:L.?9.S":i,9J.9.9Y. 7 7 ( 1 9 7 4), P P • 110 - 131; stud i ea by
Edward Epstein [!'!.!!"_":!"L.Er9...IIl_.._!'!.9..""1:>.!!"-'?_~ (New York: Viking,
a_"
1 9 7 4); !2.",t~.!!"-".n......E.~q.t __ d_.F i£j;..;!,9.!:!. ( Ne" Yor k: Vi king Press,
1975)]; Tunstall, 1971; Harvey Molotch and Marilyn Lester,
"News As Purposive Behavior,. II [Link]!.~..;::~i~.~n_~9.S;..~..Q..!..9...9"!. 9..~J._..J~.§ty_!. §_~.
39 (1974), pp. 101-12.
3G Included here would be scholarship kno"n as critical
studies, "ork by the Center for Contemporary Cultural
Studies in Birmingham, or research from Australia on news
discourse. Examples include Stuart Hall, "Culture, The
Media and the Ideological Effect," in James Curran et al.,
!:!.a.§.~..g.9!'!.!'!Yn.!.c::a t i 91L..a.n.c:!...?gS"A!!"!-.Y. ( Be v er 1 y Hill s : Sa g e ,
1977); John Fiske, I_",1§yiJ?j,9JJ..._.Ql'.!!-.y.;r..§!. (London: Methuen,
1987); John Hartley. l,[Link].~£§.t.a_mLi..n9_J\le~.§. (London: Methuen,
1982). Al so see Todd G i t 1 in, I.h~...1tl.1:!9J._~._.\!L9.F 1.L:i,.!LItls.!!-c h_:h.n9.
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980), who
contends that "journalism exists alongside - and
interlocked with - a range of other professions and
institutions with ideological functions within an entire
social system" (p. 251).
~7 See Margaret Gallagher, "Negotiation of Control in
Media Organizations and Occupations,·1 in Michael Gurevitch
et al., 9.Y.1,!-.',,'-re-'-.._?[Link];,Y_..?n9....j;..tl.!!".._!I!.!!".9J.i"- (London: Methuen,
1982) •
:Eta See Gunther Kress and Robert Hodge, !".a.':!.9.Y.a.9§....h§.
.:J:..c:!§,J?lg.9.Y. (London: Rooutledge and Kegan Paul, 1979); Also
see the Glasgow University Media Group' s !2.a.9.....!,!.~.§. (London:
Routledge, 1976) and !:!.9..;r..§!......!2.?9_.._.!'!.~.!-:1.§. (London: Routledge,
1980).
3,,") James Carey, UA Cultural Approach to Communication,"
9.9.l!'.l!'-"!.!:[Link].!.9.!:!. (1975). pp. 1-22.
'H:> Victor Tu rn er, I1:>.§'--B..:j,. j;..Y_~.1...J?:r.:.'?E.~.:"!."!. (I th a c a: Corn e 11
University Press, 1969).
41 Roger Abrahams, ··Ordinary and Extraordinary
Experience," in Victor Turner and Edward Bruner (eds.),
n}_"' . . t\nj;,.!:trg.E9.1,9.9y....gi_I;_~1::.,l§l1.C:;."'. <Urbana: Uni versi ty of
Illinois Press, 1986), p. 45.
'>';' Carey, p. 6.
<,.;, Bradley Greenberg and Edwin Parker (eds.). I_I:!.~....Jten!:!§..gy
h:?§.?§.§.,l!}.?!-_!9.!:! ..?n9.... t.h§_...i:\_!,!.§.1" is:.?!:!.....I'. y.l:l-+..A. g. ( s tan f or d: S ta n f or d
University Press, 1965); Darwin Payne, "The Press Corps
and the Kennedy Assassination." ,Ig.Y£n.?l.t§J!!..._!I!.QILQ.s.;rs.!.2.tl_§. 15
(February 1970).
 33

A-.l.~ For example, see Tom Pettit, "The Television Story in

Dallas," in Greenberg and Parker, 1965; Ruth Leeds Love,
"The Business of Television and the Black Weekend," in
Greenberg and Parker, 1965; Tom Wicker, "That Day in
Dallas," in Iir.."-~_"'....T.?.1.~. (December 1963): Meg Greenfield,
"The Way Things Really Were," N§[Link]§.Y.§!.§'.l>. (11/28/88), p. 98.
"'~ Joseph Turow, "Cultural Argumentation Through the Mass
Media: A Framework for Organizational Research,"
g2.!l!!l!.Y'!:!.tS.§'..t.!2'!:!. 8 (1985), pp. 139 - 64 .
,,'" This is a point made by Stephen Knapp, who says that
"socially shared dispositions are likely to be connected
with narratives preserved by collective memory" [See
Stephen Knapp, "Collective Memory and the Actual Past,"
F.§!I!.""-§!§.§!.T.!.t-,,-t,;i..9X!§. (Spr i n g 1989), p. 123 .
47 Ulric Neisser, ·"Snapshots or Benchmarks?·· in U. Neisser
(ed . ), ~'§:.!!L9_:t;:Y .. __Q.P'!?',,§.:r..Y._~_9. (San Franc i seo: IN. H.. Freeman and
Company, 1982), p. 45.
',.,,, Lance Morrow, "Of Myth and Memory," Lt..".!."'. (10/24/88), p.
22. He notes that "many Americans have been retreating to
the shrine o£ national memory. Never have so many
anniversaries been observed, so many nostalgias set
glowing. as if retrospection were now the only safe and
reliable line of sight."
4 . Greenberg and Parker, 1965.
BD These include Payne, 1970; and Richard Van der Karr,
"How Dallas TV Stations Carried Kennedy Shooting,"
;[01.1-+.: n.;.j,j,§J!L91,l-'!:r.t§':r.:J.,Y. 42 ( 1965) .
m. See Appendix A (Methodological Appendix) for a detailed
list of the type of source material employed.
 34

SITUATING
ASSASSINATION TALES
 35

CHAPTER T~JO

BEFORE THE ASSASSINATION:

CONTEXTUALIZING ASSASSINATION TALES

The Kennedy assassination took place at the

intersection of a number o:f culturally significant

CirCllJftstancea, which impacted upon how its story would be

constituted, remembered, interpreted, challenged and

perpetuated by journalists. Images of these circumstances

were themselves moulded by recollectors of the period. The

fact that the decade's spokespersons often constituted not

remote historians sifting through documents to describe

its happenings, but participant-observers in the era whose

views and actions were part of the story they were

writing, inflected in no small way upon retellings of

covering the Kennedy assassination. How participants'

views o£ the era, its concerns, images and problems, made

the assassination into a critical incident for American

journalists is the topic of this chapter.

Journalists' narratives about covering the Kennedy

assassination were grounded in three main features of the

time: A general mood of reflexivity that interacted with

then-current forms o£ professionalism; pre-assassination

ties linking Kennedy and the press corps, amidst

accusations or news management and labels of lithe

 36

television and pro£easional uncertainties

about the legitimacy o£ television news at the time o£ the

assassination.

!?BgE~~s I [Link]:\h.:J:..e.l:!. ,__......<:::[Link]!,,_..!tuTl:JQEI TY.~NJ2__ J:lJ1L_m;;[Link].._QE

?-IXn@_'._r.J_~BBAnS_~.?_

Much o£ what can be understood about American

journalism, journalists and their pro£essional memories o£

covering the Kennedy assassination is wrapped up in the

temporal era in which all were situated - the sixties.

Recalling the sixties through narrative has produced an

extended body o£ literature into which journalists'

reconstructions o£ the Kennedy assassination would £it.

Indeed, many chronicles were written a£ter the events o£

the assassination were over. Chroniclers _0£ the sixties

were re£lexive and extensive, their narratives punctuated

with questions about cultural authority and the relevance

o£ history in everyday li£e.

Chroniclers cast the sixties as a time of social,

cultural and political trans£ormation 1 Morris Dickstein

recalled how the era provided a "paint o£ departure £or

every kind o£ social argument p ll

encouraging everyone to

b~come lIan interested party" Social and cultural

enterprises o£ the time were lent a historical cast. As

one observer, Todd Gitlin, claimed:

It seemed especially true that History with a

capital H had come down to earth, either
 37

inter£ering with li£e or making it possible; and

that within History, or threaded through it,
people were living with a supercharged density;
lives were bound up within one another, making
claims on one another, drawing one another into
the common project 3 .

Individuals reconstructed their everyday lives as having

been infused with history and historical relevance.

nurtured a daring premise," said one observer, "We were of

historical moment, critical, unprecedented, containing

wi thin ourselves the £ullness o£ time" <+. History was not

only viewed as accessible, but it was woven into the

missions by which both individuals and collective groups

claimed they had sought to authenticate themselves.

Chroniclers o£ the sixties looked back on the decade

through events. Events helped them mark public time,

demarcating IIbe£ore u and "a£terll periods and generating a

collective sense o£ the decade that gave it its signature

of upheaval, social invention and change.

Yet which events were recast - and where - depended

on larger social, cultural and political agendas. Many

chroniclers maintained that the sixties began with the

1950 Presidential elections. In his celebrated article

about the 1950 conventions, "Superman Comes to the

Supermarket," writer Norman Mailer hailed the arrival of a

hero who could "capture the secret imagination o£ a

 38

people" ~ Others held that the election was the beginning

o£ a "historical £ree £all":

assassinations, riots, Viet Nam, Watergate, oil

embargoes, hostages in Iran, the economic rise
o£ the Paci£ic Rim nations, on and on, glasnost,
China - that has created an utterly New World
and le£t America searching £or its place therein

Chronicles cast the decade in the mould o£ an amusement

park, replete with its barely-controlled chaos,

recklessness and theaters o£ activity on every corner. The

assassinations o£ John F, Kennedy, Malcolm X, Martin

Luther King and Robert Kennedy raised serious questions

about the quality o£ American leadership, ushering in what

the editor o£ one magazine called "two decades o£

'accidental' presidencies.' 7 The Vietnam War instilled

doubts over the authority and justi£ication o£ American

presence abroad, while the civil rights movement and

£reedom marches generated large-scale activism on the home

£ront. Publication o£ the Pentagon Papers and the

beginnings o£ Watergate marked illegalities within the

private spaces o£ government. And £inally, student

activism and the culture o£ protest, marked by the Free

Speech Movement,. university protests and Kent State

shootings, displayed the disjunctions that were splitting

America's college population.

Many chroniclers cast the Kennedy assassination as a

prototype £or the events that £ollowed. It was, said one

 39

writer, "the day the world changed", constituting a rite

of passage to what was called the end of innocence M. The

assassination symbolized a "rupture in the collective

experience o£ the American people" 'i-)

Looking back,

chroniclers held that Kennedy's death generated doubts

about existing boundaries of cultural authority. "The

whole country was trapped in a lie," recalled activist

Casey Hayden. "We were told about equality but we

discovered it didn't exist. We were the only truth-

tellers, as £ar as we could see·· :l.Q. Said another critic:

"We came to doubt the legitimacy and authority of the

doctor pounding our chest, and of the cop pounding the

beat II :t:l..

Doubting authority, chroniclers began to cast

themselves as cultural, social and political arbiters.

IIWhere the critic of the :fifties would appeal

to .•. tradition, the critic o:f the sixties was more likely

to seal an argument with personal testimony," said

Dickstein Ui,: As the values o£ immediacy, confrontation

and personal witness were upgraded, chroniclers

legitimated a subjective perspective on events. Recalling

the sixties thereby generated a highly reflexive genre of

narratives whose chroniclers addressed ongoing questions

about cultural authority and history.

 40

The sixties were reconstructed as a chipping-away o£

consensus .. Whether or not such a consensus ever existed

became less important than the £act that its eradication

was invoked in recollections o£ the era. In Fredric

Jameson's eyes, members o£ the sixties saw themselves

adopting a urei£ied, political language o£ power,

dornination l' authority and anti-authoritarianism" :1. :::~

Questioning power, negotiating power, de£ying power,

eliminating power, and ultimately creating new £orms by

which power might be realized became characteristic

concerns o£ narratives about everyday li£e.

One particular group o£ chroniclers £or whom this had

relevance were the up-and-coming pro£essionals o£ the

time .. Pro£essionalism constituted a valued way o£

addressing ongoing questions about cultural authority. In

Todd Gitlin's view, there was an "approved running track

£or running £aster and stretching £arthertl :1. ...+ Concerns

about an increased access to history were particularly

held responsible £or bringing pro£essionals directly into

the heart o£ surrounding issues. Events were seen as

rattling the £oundations o£ a variety a£ pro£essians in a

way that made pra£essianals rethink the boundaries o£

appropriate practice, £orming the pro£essianal identities

o£ writers, artiste, doctors through the events o£ the

time. Questions about power and authority thus became

 41

internalized by individuals and groups as direct

challenges to the changing boundaries o£ their

pro£essional identities.

Journalism was not immune to these circumstances o£

change. As David Halberstam noted,

(In the sixties) the old order was being

challenged and changed in every sense, racially,
morally, culturally, spiritually, and it was a
rich time £or journalists. For a while there was
a genuine struggle over who would de£ine news,
the people in positions o£ power or the people
in the streets .~.

Larger questions about changing consensus and cultural

authority thus readily permeated narratives that were

generated by journalistic pro£essionals.

In looking back, journalists construed the sixties as

having been a time o£ pro£essional experimentation. A

special issue o£ g_~£n!J_:r_§. magazine on '"The Sixties'·

maintained that II no longer were there observers,. only

participants. This was especially true o£ journalists.

They were part o£ the problem, part o£ the solution, and

always part o£ the story'" H'. Being part o£ the story took

on many new £orms in writing, reporting and presenting

news. O£ten, journalists embraced a subjective perspective

on events, in large part due to surrounding circumstances

that called £or their presence within them.

 42

Claims that the boundaries o£ cultural authority were

shi£ting in£used journalists with new challenges, new

practices and new ways by which to legitimate themselves.

swelling with the sense o£ who they could be, they saw

themselves experimenting on the £ringe with £orms o£

writing and reportage called "new journalism," or with a

:1.
broad spectrum o£ underground writing ~?
In the center,

they recalled leaving the staid establishments o£ the

"newspapers of record" and venturing into less secure

territories of newer media establishments :I,s a

This sugests that the questions about authority and

power £ound in more general recollections o£ the sixties

were also a £eatured part o£ journalists' attempts to look

back at themselves. They readily translated such concerns

into pro£essionally-grounded behavior, applying larger

questions about cultural authority to localized issues

about the appropriate boundaries o£ journalistic practice.

For example, a larger mood o£ re£lexivity encouraged

journalists to reconstruct the sixties as a time o£

pro£essional risk and experimentation. While this did not

mean that changes did not take place at other times, i t

did suggest that in recalling the decade, the shi£ting

boundaries o£ pro£essional behavior as one mode of

cultural authority were supported by journalists~

narratives on a number of domains.

 43

[Link]~ narratives were thereby contextualized

by ongoing discourses about the proper boundaries of

authority assumed by a variety of social and cultural

grOUPS, mainly professionals, in society. These narratives

not only emphasized the changing boundaries of cultural

authority, a premise ultimately relevant to journalism

professionals, but they also bore a distinct pseudo-

historical cast, and featured an interest in history"s

infusion within everyday life. This suggested that

journalists, like other chroniclers of the period, would

be able to borrow from history to authenticate themselves.

Such a point would have particular bearing on journalists'

reconstructions of covering the Kennedy assassinationB

One arena of interest to chroniclers of the sixties

was the Kennedy administration. It was relevant to

journalists' discussions about themselves, because it gave

them an extensive institutional framework of interaction.

In narrative" journalists consistently highlighted the

supportive aspects of Kennedy's Presidency, which they saw

as haVing forwarded many of their professional aims.

Hints of an aura of favorable relations between the

President and the press corps were found already in

 44

Kennedy's campaign £or the Presidency. Press Secretary

pierre Salinger maintained that Kennedy had directed his

sta££ to make the 1960 Presidential campaign as easy as

possible £or the press corps to cover He gave

journalists transcripts o£ his remarks made on the

campaign trail within minutes o£ having made them.

"Instant transcripts," explained Salinger, eliminated the

time-consuming chore of reporters having to clear remarks

with his o££ice

vJhat he did not say was that they also gave

journalists the £eeling that the President was attending

to their needs. This tension between catering to

journalists and manipulating them - permeated accounts o£

the Kennedy administration. All but one o£ his news

conferences were "on the record I) Hallmark decisions

£or which he would be known and remembered as President -

decisions to debate Nixon, warnings to the Russians about

missiles on their way to Cuba, or assumptions of

responsibility £or the Bay o£ Pigs invasion were

interpreted as having been taken, i£ not motivated, by

some regard £or the media. One representative account of

Kennedy's £astidious media behavior held that journalists

were "there to help him arrange reality, to make style

become substance, to de£ine power as the contriving o£

appearances"
 45

During the administration's early years, Kennedy's

attentiveness to the media was well-received by the press

corps .. Journalists tended to be complimentary in their

dispatches about him. In 1961 Arthur Krock wrote in Ih"~.

press requests are being fielded to the

president in greater numbers than
previously ••• And Mr. Kennedy's evaluations of
the merit of such questions is fair and generous

Reporters perpetuated tales of culture, integrity, and

generally '"good times"'. Kennedy, for them, appeared to

symbolize all that went well with America. Such a mood

encouraged a certain suspension of judgment on the part of

journalistic chroniclers.. Later, reporter Tom Wicker

maintained that if the press of the Kennedy era "did not

cover up for him, or knowingly look the other way, it did

not put him or the White Hause in his time under as close

and searching scrutiny as it should have" l 24.

Journalists recalled that other factors dissuaded

them from being too critical of the new President. He was

thought to be polished and eloquent, energetic and witty.

He was Harvard-educated yet a war hero. His rhetorical

style, youth and promises o£ a New Frontier were

interpreted as appealing, different and refreshing. In

Wicker's view, this encouraged the press to

give Kennedy more of a free ride than any of his

successors have had. One was the man#s wit,
 46

charm, youth, good looks, and general style, as

well as a feeling among reporters that he
probably liked us more than he liked
politicians, and that he may have been more
nearly one o£ us than one o£ them .•. Hence, there
was at the least an unconscious element o£ good
wishes for Kennedy··

Reporters recalled willingly and consistently overstating

these sides o£ Kennedy in their dispatches, to the same

extent that they had understated other points his

Addison's Disease or extramarital affairs as.

Kennedy's familiarity with journalism was held

responsible for endearing many reporters to him. They

stressed the fact that in 1945 he had served as a special

correspondent for the International News Service (and his

wife had been an lIinquiring photographer" for the

W~shingtoR~T~~~He£~~~), a point which made him familiar

with the conditions under which journalists labored .7. He

earned the coveted Pulitzer Prize in 1957 £or Profiles

.. .... ... ...- in--~- ",,"-."- " "

In a lead article in November o£ 1960, the

trade magazine gS!i,:I=.9:'::""_.". ",,\!l.g"...p'!'!.e"L:h.§I:'-~ lamented the loss o£

"a first-rate reporter," admitting that:

A President who knows how to write a news-story

and a first lady who can snap good news-pictures
will be residing in the White House after
January 20 ""~'.

Kennedy was hailed for taking an interest in journalism,

with Gloria Steinhem recalling years later that it was the

only time a reporter felt that "something we wrote might

 47

be read in the White House n .:~}c) All o£ this made the

journalistic community

a natural constituency £or him. He was

interested in the same things they were, had
gone to the same schools, read the same books
and shared the same analytical £rame o£ mind. By
and large he was more com£ortable with reporters
than he was with working politicians "'.

Whether or not this was true mattered less than the £act

that journalists recalled it as having been so.

In journalists' attempts to recollect the Kennedy

administration, Kennedy was thereby held to be more a part

o£ the journalistic community than separate £rom it. One

reporter, Hugh Sidey o£ TJJ!LE;!., termed it this way:

Has there ever been a more succulent time for a

young reporter? I doubt it •.• It was a golden
time £or scribes. He talked to us, listened to
us, honored U5~ ridiculed us, got angry at uS p
played with us, laughed with us, corrected us,
and all the time li£ted our trade to new heights
of respect and importance 3 2 .

""Had he outlived his time in the White House,"" added

.senior [Link] Joseph Kra£t, "it is probable that in

some way he would have turned to journalism"" Although

this was in no way verifiable, it was nonetheless

.signi£icant that journalists continued to make the claim.

Interestingly, journalist,,' recollections o£ the

President did not focus on one obvious arena his

personal ties with many o£ them. The £act that Kennedy

 48

maintained social relations with a number of high-ranking

journalists including Charles Bartlett (who had

introduced him to his wife Jacqueline), Joseph Alsop and

Benjamin Bradlee- was unaddressed in most journalists'

writings about the era. When suggestions by James Reston

that the President stop seeing reporters socially were

rejected outright, there was little ado among the press

corps 34. Even correspondent Benjamin Bradlee's book of

reminiscences,

stir. Published ten years after Kennedy's death, the book

detailed how Bradlee and the President had regularly

swapped gossip and information about the administration

and the press corp'" "'"". The book was favorably reviewed by

a number of magazines, with little mention of the

problematics suggested by the revelations One

exception was writer Taylor Branch, who lambasted the

relationship in !:L,!'''p'er.§'::.. magazine in an article subtitled

"The Journalist as Flatterer." Branch called the book "one

of the most pathetic memoirs yet written by an American

journalist about his President" 37:

The Bradlee who covered Kennedy was hardly the

prototypical reporter - cynical and hard, with a
knife out for pretense and an eye out for dirt.
He was hardlY the editor he became under Nixon
:u,

The uneven range of responses directly reflected the

shifting parameters of cultural authority assumed by

 49

journalists at the time o£ Kennedy's assassination, and in

the years that £ollowed.

But the aura o£ a££inity between Kennedy and the

press corps also wore thin at times, especially when the

President's attempts at image management con£licted with

his voiced concerns £or an independent press. Decades

later, columnist David Broder recalled how the President

had success£ully converted a portion o£ the press corps

into his own cheering section 3_. Acts o£ image management

permeated accounts o£ Kennedyls administration: These

included cancelling 22 White House subscriptions to the

coverage o£ his administration ,

....-1'0 ..
bawling out Time

reporter Hugh Sidey in £ront o£ his editor because the

estimate he had given £or a Kennedy crowd was too low ,

":~:I . •

cooling long-standing relations with then-con£idante

Benjamin Bradlee because o£ a remark the reporter had made

about the Kennedys in one o£ his dispatches or denying

journalists access to sta££ers because he had taken

o££ense at certain aspects o£ their stories Charles

Roberts, who covered Kennedy £or later

maintained that the administration was "intolerant o£ any

criticism ... 'You are either £or us or against us,' is the

way Kenny O'Donnell, the President's appointments

secretary ~ put it to mell ":~":I'

 50

Predictably, this somewhat chipped away at the

suspended judgment with which most journalists had

appraised the administration. Labels of news management

began to circulate among reporters covering the White

House. Following the Cuban missile crisis, Arthur Krock

wrote in a particularly virulent attack on the President

that a policy of

news management not only exists, but in the form

of direct and deliberate action has been
enforced more cynically and boldly than by any
previous administration in a period when the
U • s. was not at warll . .+~.

I.F. Stone accused Kennedy of deception and deterioration

of standards of leadership in his newsletter on April 26,

1961: "The President's animus seems to be directed not at

the follies exposed in the Cuban fiasco but at the free

press :for exposing them" . .+6. !f.~.2?_.'§t~~~_'§Lli was charged wi th

regularly adjusting its coverage of events in order to

enhance Kennedy's image at the same time as the !:t§'<:L..L?.F..1s.

Ltm§'§. was lambasted for suppressing its knowledge of the

invasion of the Bay of Pigs 47. Years later, Henry Fairlie

complained that both Kennedy's policy of news management

and his social flattery of journalists had made it

difficult for journalists to be objective about him

All of this set up a certain framework in which

journalists could be reflexive about the Kennedy

 51

administration. Images of Kennedy as President set the

stage for memories of Kennedy after his death. This

pattern was aptly illustrated with the community of

television journalists, who recalled that Kennedy had had

a special regard for their medium, a regard which earned

him the name of "the television president": He and the

television "camera were born £or each other, he was its

£irst great political superstar" ~~g..

To an. extent, Kennedy's affinity with television was

thought to have been orchestrated by his family, which had

been instrumental in promoting his nomination. David

Halberstam related the following story:

In 1959, Sander Vanocur, then a young NBC

correspondent, found himself stationed by the
network in Chicago and found himself taken up by
Sarge Shriver. One evening there was a party at
the Shrivers' and a ruddy-faced older man walked
over to Vanocur and said, "You're Sander
Vanocur, aren"t you?" Vanocur allowed as how he
was. III' m Joe Kennedy, JI the man said. III saw you
at Little Rock and you did a good job down
there. I keep telling Jack to spend more time
and pay more attention to guys like you and less
to the print people. I think he's coming around"

As Kennedy grew into his administration and his concept of

the Presidency, his interest in journalism reportedly

sparked his curiosity about television. But perhaps mare

than other circumstances, his television debates with

Nixon convinced him of the value of televised journalism.

 52

Part of the folklore about Kennedy held that he won

the election of 1960 because of his understanding of the

new medium o£ television .. His per£ormance in the "great

debates·' was held to have been superior to those who

watched him on television: Those who listened to the

debates on radio perceived Nixon to be the winner; those

who saw the debates on television perceived that Kennedy

had won :5:1.

The debates were seen as helping Kennedy turn

around a sagging second place in the polls ••. Observers

decided that he won the election "largely because o£ the

way he looked and sounded on the TV screens in our living

rooms" !:,!!;,3 ..

Such a point was emphasized by journalistic

chroniclers, who told of how Kennedy employed his

knowledge of the medium to full advantage: He rested

before his televised appearance, used cosmetics to hide

facial blemishes and allowed himsel£ to be extensively

coached beforehand m4. Don Hewitt, who directed the debate

that helped him win, later maintained that "television had

a love affair with Jack Kennedy" mm. The significance of

his performance extended well beyond the actual political

campaign: Television was held to have become IIthat. much

more legitimized as the main instrument o£ political

discourse": It was a "triumph not just for Kennedy but for

the new medium; within hours no one could recall anything

 53

that was said, only what they loaked like, what they £elt

like" "''';.. A£ter the debates, recalled reporter Edward

Guthman, the age o£ television journalism was purported to

have begun "'7.

Another act that supported positive links between

Kennedy and television journalists was his decision to

implement regular live televised news con£erences. It was

a decision then regarded by press journalists as "an

administrative disaster second only to the Bay o£ Pigs"

~56:l
, but television journalists were overjoyed. They lauded

the detail with which he organized his £irst con£erence:

Observing that ""Hollywood could not have done better in

preparing one reporter recalled haw

Kennedy brought down a TV consultant £rom New York to

arrange staging, set up white cardboard so as to dispel

£acial shadows, and had the drapes hanging behind the

lecturn re-sewn at the last minute ~~;'i;;) Kennedy's

preparation £or each con£erence was heralded as ··intensive

and elaborate" i'.:.C'. A stringent brie£ing process preceded

it,. during which Salinger predicted questions and

collected responses £rom Kennedy sta££ers. The President

then convened a "press con£erence break£ast ll

where he

practiced answering predictable questions . ' .

 54

The live news con£erences provided the right stage

£or Kennedy. Tom Wicker maintained that they gave the

President a

per£ect £orum £or his looks, his wits, his quick

brain, his sel£-con£idence. Kennedy gave
Americans their £irst look at a President in
action ••. and he may have been better at this art
£orm than at anything else in his Presidency G~.

A £requent participant on behal£ o£ :rh§L__lc!."'!.~_"X'?.F."!~"...1A!fI_es.,

James Reston recalled how he "overwhelmed you with decimal

points or disarmed you with a smile and a wisecrack" ",co>.

It was there£ore characteristic o£ his administration that

on October 22, 1962, Kennedy chose to go on air at 7.00

p.m. to demand that Russian missiles be removed £rom Cuba.

His message's e££ect on the nation had much to do with its

televised delivery:

By delivering the ultimatum on TV instead o£

relying on normal diplomatic channels, Kennedy
magni£ied the impact o£ his actions many times
over, signaling to the world that there would be
no retreat ~~..:~ ..

While these acts £amiliarized the American public with

governmental process and the e££ect o£ televised

journalism on the political process, they also, in David

Halberstam's wordS, "helped to make television journalists

more power£ul as conduits £or politicians than print ones"

Kennedy's attentiveness to the medium o£ television

continued through his administration. In December o£ 1962,

 55

he became the £irst President to conduct an in£ormal

television interview ~lith three network newsmen 66

Benjamin Bradlee, upset over the deviation from routine

practice, wrote the £ollowing:

December 17, 1962. The President went on

television live tonight, answering questions
£rom each network's White House
correspondent ... I watched i t at home and £elt
pro£essionally threatened as a man who ,.as
trying to make a living by the written word. The
program was exceptionally good, well-paced,
color£ul, humorous, serious, and I £elt that a
written account would have paled by comparison
e. 7
M

When Bradlee con£ronted the President with the disturbing

e££ect the television interviews would have on print

journalists, Kennedy retorted, "I always said that when we

don't have to go through you bastards (the printed press),

we can really get our story over to the American people"

Continuing to place television in the £ore£ront o£

political activity, Kennedy allowed cameras to £ilm his

e££orts to integrate the University o£ Alabama his

trips to Paris, Vienna and Berlin, his warnings to the

Russians to keep away £rom Cuban shores. On other domains,

Jacqueline took the American people on a televised tour o£

the White House. Kennedy's recognition o£ television's

unique qualities thereby legitimated his £ormalized and

viable interest in television journalists.

All o£ this cast him in the role o£ promoter £or the

journalistic community, and television journalists among

 56

them. It was thus no surprise that a memorial section o£

published the week a£ter Kennedy's

assassination, hailed his e££ect on journalism and

televfsion,. saying

no President had ever been so accessible to the

press; no President ever so anxious £or history
to be recorded in the maJ<ing; he even let TV
cameras peek over his shoulder in moments Ox
national crisis 7 0 .

Thus, at a time when the boundaries o£ cultural

authority were changing, the ties between Kennedy and the

press. corps de£ined the boundaries o£ journalistic

community that were 50 important to journalists seeking to

authorize themselves. Kennedy's interest in journalism

highlighted the authority o£ members o£ the pro£ession~

Communal concerns about professional practice were given

consistent and de£initive stages, with Kennedy playing an

active part not only in upholding journalism as a

pro£ession but in granting legitimacy to those employed by

television. In much the same way that larger questions

about cultural authority, history and professionalism

in£ormed journalistic practice o£ the sixties, the Kennedy

administration provided a £ocused stage on which to shape

many of the aame concerns.

Largely due to these two £actors the shi£ting

boundaries o£ cultural authority and Kennedy's consistent

 57

interests in journalism the early sixties were

reconstructed as having been "great years :for journalism"

The Kennedys were applauded by journalists for

providing good c:opy, and the growth of the more

established news organizations

was seen as a precursor to more general

professional expansion. Observers felt that the stature of

journalism as a profession was enhanc:ed. By 1962

journalists

saw their career increasingly as a profession ...

Whic:h meant that there were obligations and
rights and responsibilities that went with it.
They were better paid, more responsible and more
serious. They were not so easily bent, not so
easi 1 y used '7~~:

Journalists saw themselves entering a period of growth and

maturation, whereby i t was fair to assume that new stages

for c:ultural and soc:ial legitimation would present

themselves. To a large extent, this image of growth fit in

with narratives about shifting consensus and the changing

boundaries of cultural authority and reflexivity that

emanated from the dec:ade.

Growth, however, was not shared across media .. During

Kennedy's asc:ent to the Presidenc:y, the authoritative

boundaries of television news were still being debated. On

the one hand, television news was considered a bastard

c:hild within the journalistic community, dismissed as "a

journalistic: frivolity, a c:umbersome beast unequipped to

 58

meet the demands o:f breaking news on a day-to-day basis"

Every press journalist still believed that "his was

the more serious, more legitimate medium for news" The

superiority o:f print over television was

a view widely shared by TV newspeople themselves

in the sixties. The :feeling was not entirely
unjusti:fied. Examples o:f original reporting on
TV were rare then, and the medium was still
essentially derivative 7m.

Television reporters with original angles on a story o:ften

fed them to wire-service reporters, so as to capture the

attention o:f their New York editors 76 It was thus no

surprise that a :few months be:fore the Kennedy

assassination, the International Press Institute rejected

a move to admit radio and television newspeople, stating

that they did not constitute bona :fide journalists 77 •

Yet already by the early 1960s, interest in the

legitimacy o:f television news had begun to blossom. The

average American household used television :for :four to

:five hours daily by the summer o:f 1960, and 88% o:f all

homes owned television sets 78 Certain technological

advances, particularly the use o:f videotape and the

employment o:f communications satellites, helped improve

the broadcast quality o£ television news 79. Networks were

able to alter existing :formats o:f news presentation,

moving :from the '"talking head" set-up towards more

 59

sophisticated ways of including actual news footage within

broadcasts.

Institutional changes also worked to the advantage of

television news. Officials within the Federal

Communications Commission suggested an independent news

association devoted only to broadcasting 80. Newton Minow,

the newly-appointed chairman of the Federal Communications

Commission, called for an increase in the time devoted to

television news to offset what he labelled the "vast

wasteland" of television programming. In the fall of 1963,

television news' is-minute time slot was expanded to a

full half-hour 6".• To mark the occasion, Kennedy gave

interviews to all three networks, and was applauded for

agreeing to hold an interview a second time when ABC

di "covered afterwards that its camera had broken ~,;~,

Television networks opened new bureaus to accomodate a

growing demand for information .3.

The legitimacy of television news was also linked to

the the medium's technological attributes, with advocates

beginning to suggest that television might be a better

medium than print for transmitting certain kinds of news

stories. As David Halberstam later commented:

Gradually in the last year of Kennedy's life,

<IX!'l_E>. journalist Hugh) Sidey noticed a change,
not so much in Kennedy's feeling about the
magazine~s rairness as in his estimation o£ its
importance. The equation had changed with the
coming of television. In Washington the power of
 60

print waB Blipping. Television gave

access, so television got greater access

Chroniclers pointed to a range o£ stories at which

television excelled, with the civil rights movement later

construed as having gained most o£ its acclaim £rom

television, its "leaders ••• master£ul at manipulating

television, conscious o£ the way certain images could be

used to move the electorate" Television's technology

allowed cameramen and reporters to "cover candidly things

that might have been barred to them in the past" ,,<E.. These

televisual £eatures prompted the print media to recognize

what one critic called their status as "mere 'extras' at

JFK#a press con£erences - shows so obviously staged £01'

television·' &:l? ..

In general, journalists thereby hailed television's

technological "improvements" the immediacy, visual

element, drama - as responsible £or making TV news a bona

£ide journalistic £orm. Implicit in what they saw as its

burgeoning legitimacy was thus an increasing acceptance o£

the technological advances associated with television.

Television was seen as promoting a "better' £orm o£

journalism than that o££ered by print. As one observer

said, "As he (Kennedy) made television bigger, it made him

Thus journalists' attempts to consolidate

themselves were directly linked with Kennedy.

 61

QQJdILl,§:_.1J'G:I; T I .!'!A:rJQ.!':LUL~l'!l'!@_LAl'!JL_I~l,g_,{I2:J:Ql'!

It thus made sense that in chronicles of the decade,

the fates of both Kennedy and television journalism were

construed as coming together with Kennedy#s assassination.

Television, said one critic, "was at the center o£ the

shock. ~Jith its indelible images, information, immediacy,

repetition and close-ups, it served to define the tragedy

for the public" "''''. By the end of 1963, a Roper survey

maintained that Americans relied for news as much on

television as on the printed press By the late

sixties, after "Lee Harvey Oswald was shot on television,

presidents dissembled (and) protestors protested in front

o£ the c:amerss u By then, it was safe to assume that

television had come of age ss the preferred medium for

news.

This posited the Kennedy assassination squarely in

the middle of a process by which television was recognized

as a legitimate medium of news transmission. Journalists

upheld this notion in their chronicles. Television

journalism was said to have grown "up in Dallas, £or never

before had it faced such a story with so much of the

responsibility for telling it .. The fact that

journalists construed the fates of Kennedy and television

as being parallel to each other in itself underscored

gropings for legitimation in both arenaBG It was

 62

significant that £igures in the television industry,

particularly television journalists, regarded Kennedy as a

midwi£e to their own birth. A special edition o£

[Link]. published the week a£ter the

[Link], included a section entitled "The Dimension

JFK Added To Television". It went as £ollows:

From ·the Great Debates where America £irst saw

this young man to the TV close-up o£ a U.S.
President telling the American people we were
about to blockade Cuba and might even go
£urther, he took radio and television o££ the
second team and made them peers o£ the older
print media. Electronic journalism and its
newsmen grew in stature by leaps and
bounds ... The medium needed no £urther assurance
o£ its place in society than the President's
exclusive interviews with CBS's Walter Cronkite
and NBC's Chet Huntley and David Brinkley .3.

Members o£ the journalistic community saw Kennedy's

interest in the media as engendering the industry's growth

and enhancing journalists' pro£essional legitimacy. This

was upheld in eulogies about the President, printed in

trade publications under titles like "Kennedy Retained

Newsman's Outlook" ...",)~~ Thus p in a small turn o£ irony,

Kennedy's e££orts at enhancing his image and legitimating

his administration made him a central £igure in the

authentication of journalism and television news 9~.

All o£ this suggests that chroniclers were concerned

with the boundaries o£ journalistic community at the time

o£ the assassination. Their accounts stressed that the

profession o£ journalism was undergoing change and that

 63

one stratum o£ journalism television news was

beginning to be held in regard above the others. This cast

the assassination coverage against a larger backdrop o£

legitimating American journalists. Holding television news

responsible £or communicating the tragedy thus directly

supported larger discourses about the authority o£

journaliats. Exposure to the assassination was made

possible by television, and to a large degree its

technology was hailed £or giving America its memories o£

the event.

Thus the legitimation o£ television journalists was

construed by chroniclers as having been gradual but

certain. Like other enterprises o£ the decade,

legitimation was seen as having been realized during the

sixties through shi£ting boundaries o£ cultural authority

and definitions o£ pro£essianalism, changing consensus

about what was important and the increased relevance o£

history £or the concerns o£ everyday li£e. In looking

back, chroniclers attributed this to a general mood o£

reflexivity that had allowed £01' changes an all £ronts.

This suggests that in telling and retelling tales o£ the

assassination, journalists leaned into a context already

made explicit by their narratives. Tales of the

assassination were thus explicitly and implicitly £ormed

 64

by the in£lections o£ the time on larger contemporaneous

narratives.

Chroniclers o£ the decade, its events and £ocal

points were thereby le£t to negotiate and renegotiate

parameters o£ knowledge and action - about the sixties,

about Kennedy's administration, and about the legitimation

o£ television news - until they £it com£ortably together

within one context. They enmeshed their narratives until

the same notions £igured in all. Within such a context, it

was possible £ar journalists to readily perpetuate

memories o£ the Kennedy assassination, and they did so in

a way that made sense o£ ongoing issues about the time,

the pro£ession and the emerging technologies by which they

told their stories.

By July 1964, the summer £ollo'"ing Kennedy's

assassination, television journalism had begun to emerge

as a power£ul £arce in American li£e and politics. The

scene where journalists contended that this took place was

the Republication National Convention at San Francisco's

Cow Palace. Seen as "players in the game itsel£"

journalists were booed by convention delegates and carried

o££ the £loor by security guards and policemen.

Signi£icantly, press journalists did not play alone in

such a game. One reporter recalled how

 65

Those £ists raised in anger at the men in the

glass-booths the 'commentators' and the
'anchor men~, bore this message too: The 'press'
had become inextricably linked with television
in the public mind .7.

Linking press and television journalists underscored

attempts to uni£y them into one community. More important,

their role as independent players in the construction o£

news had turned them into forces meriting careful

consideration" Although Barry Goldwater relied upon

delegates' promises o£ support £rom be£ore the start o£

the convention, his sta££ "had not recJ<oned I.i th

television, or how necessary it was to restrain its

appetite £or drama" "6'. As Goldwater said later, "I should

have known in San Francisco, that I won the nomination

,
(there) but lost the"'J election" ';i~";I. Television journalists

had become a £orce to be reckoned with.

In looking back, chroniclers saw the Cow Palace as

re£elcting signi£icant changes in the legitimacy granted

television journalists. The £act that the previous year

television journalists had been denied membership by an

international press organization but were considered

"'active players"' one year later re£lected a marked change

in the legitimacy accorded practitioners in the medium:

The uncertain pro£essional beginnings o£ 1963 were pushed

into hints o£ legitimacy over the next 13 months. This

signalled a clear change in the circumstances by which

 66

television journalists and by implication, all

journalists - could authenticate themselves. What remained

unclear, however, was what prompted circumstances to

change, and how they did 80.

These pages have addressed the cultural and

historical context which backgrounded the assassination.

They have shown how chroniclers of the era set up the

legitimation of Kennedy as President alongside the

legitimation of television journalism .. Paralleling

accounts of the Kennedy Presidency with accounts of the

1J
evolution and authentication of television news had direct

bearing on hQl,., television journalists have taken their

places as cultural authorities. Already in chronicles o£

both Kennedy's administration and the evolution of

television news, an affinity was set up that connected the

two arenas. This affinity would figure in journalists'

attempts at collective legitimation and would infiltrate

their stories of covering Kennedy's death.

Legitimating Kennedy and legitimating television news

were thereby held up as characteristic enterprises of the

sixties, rein£orced by embedding tales of their

authentication in a context shaped by issues of cultural

authority, history and reflexivity. Reconstructions of the

sixties decade underscored the function of history and

historical events for professional legitimation.

 67

Chroniclers of the era stressed the importance of history

within the formations of professional identities. The

increased access to history was thus construed as infusing

a historical perspective into discussions about

pro£essionalism. This is not to say that the above-

mentioned circumstances ~made historians out of all

pra:fesBionals p only that history's seemingly increased

access inflected how professionals determined their

boundaries of appropriate practice. Circumstances made it

eaeier :for a range o£ pro£essionale, such as journalists p

to borrow :from history in their attempts at self-

legitimation. Journalists saw themselves taking on

expanded roles of cultural authority, and acting in net.]

and different ways as social, political and ultimately

historical arbiters, a point which generated consensus

about appropriate and authoritative practices of the time

and later. In particular, this informed journalists'

subsequent tales o£ covering Kennedy's assassination,

which upheld journalists attempts to consolidate

themselves as an authoritative interpretive community.

It makes sense, then, to assume that journalists have

reconstructed their part in covering the Kennedy

[Link] in conjunction with ongoing discourses which

they, and others, have perpetuated about the sixties

decade. A decade construed as a period of reflexivity -

 68

where existing parameters o£ J~thority were questioned,

negotiated and altered by persons involved in lending

meaning to events has made way for discussion of a

number o£ then-burgeoning enterprises, one o£ them the

uncertain but growing legitimacy o£ television news. Such

a discourse was supported by the overattentive interest o£

the Kennedy administration in things pertaining to the

media .. All of this has directly a££ected the parameters o£

the memory systems through which coverage o£ the Kennedy

assassination has been reconstructed by journalists. The

context underlying most sixties' reconstructions has

suggested an a££inity between narratives about television

journalism and the Kennedy administration, an a££inity

that was torn asunder with the President's assassination.

In an ironic twist, Kennedy's death £uelled the concerns

and energies o£ chroniclers of the era, o££ering its

members a stage on which to debate timely issues of

authority, power~ connectedness and historical relevance.

His death was used by journalists to legitimate

television, making the medium which served him best in

li£e continue to serve him in death.

The Kennedy assassination has thereby become one

stage on which journalists have choreographed their

legitimation as pro£essionals. It has backgrounded the

movement of television journalists £rom the ranks o£

 69

outsiders to "central players in the game .. 11

In such a way,

it has served 8S a critical incident £or journalism

pro£essionals, a stage on which they have evaluated,

challenged and renegotiated consensual notions about what

i t means to be a journalist •

• See Sohnya Sayres, Anders Stephanson, Stanley Aronowitz

an d Fre d ric Jam e son , :r.!'-'Lg&~.\<!J.j;._h_Q],!.j:._.~J::?S!1.9..9y"
(Minneapolis: University o£ Minnesota Press, 1984) £or an
extended discussion o£ this theme. In line with many
writers o£ the time, I am suggesting a view o£ the sixties
more as a heuristic construct than chronological category.
,,~ Morris Dickstein, G1'l!;.§§L..o£ _.,!;_g_",.!:l. (New York: Penguin
Books, 1989 (1977)], pp. v, 137.
" To dd G i t 1 in, Ih§_RJ..1j:.1:;J.§'§"._Y§';'\1':§.._C'!.:LJ:LQP§,.._.Pj'!Y.§"-_9.:L!'!;,\..9§!
(New York: Bantam Books, 1987), p. 7.
'<:1- Jacob Brackman, "Shock Waves From the Baby Boom,"
!'L:;;.g1L~X§!.
99 (June 1983), p. 198.
:'!iNorman Mailer, "Enter Prince Jack," excerpted £rom
"Superman Comes to the Supermarket," £.§;91,l1.. E§.. (June 1983
(1960)], p. 204.
(C, Lance Morrow, "0£ Myth and Memory" IJ.I'l.§. (10/24/88), p.
22.
'7 "The Sixties" (Special Double Issue). IiLtt.n§§;.§. (11;2/3,
Summer/Fall 1988), p. 9.
a La wren c e Wr i g h t , ±.!1_ ...!;h§!._l'L"'~._.W.9E.±'<;!. (N ew Yo r k : V i n ta g e
Books, 1983), p. 68.
',' Th oma s Brown, oLfK;. _JJ: i s t.9.E:.Y.-2f a'l.....±'I)1.;'\.9-';'. ( Bloom i n 9 t on :
Indiana University Press, 1988), p. 2.
~. 0 Casey Hayden, liThe Movement," in ~!.:!=.D.:.~~§t.l?. [Special
Double Issue on "The Sixties," (II,2/3,Summer/Fall 1988),
p. 245] •
• ,l Tom Sch a c h tm an, R§!£!.;'\ d <e.._C'!.f._~h9.£.~.~ :_!?§.lJ9.§....:!=S2_.\<!.~t§1':g"".!;.§.
.:t'?§.~.::.1.~]4. (New York: Poseidon Press, 1983), p. 62 •
•• Dickstein, 1989 (1977), p. 136.
:I.~.'.~ Fredric Jameson,. "Periodicizing the Sixties,. in
II

Sayres, et al, 1984, p. 184 •

• 4 Gitlin, 1987, p. 20.
,.~, Da v i d Hal b er s ta m , T.b§'.....R2'1.§.:!:.§.. . J·.h.;'\.1:;..J}.§. (N ew Yor k: Al £ red
A. Knop£, 1979), p. 400.
H', "The Sixties," g§.g1,IJ.. 1':§!. (Special Issue, (June 1983)],
p.197 •
• -, See Tom \1I01£e, Ih§'_B.""."".......l.9ur. n.§.J.J&rr~. (New York: Harper and
Row, 1973) or Dickstein, 1989 (1977) •
•• Halberstam (1979) discusses this in detail.
 70

"" Pierre Sal inger, ~jj"JLJt....I1-').§"::!Y. (Ne,,' York: Doubleday and

Company, 1966), p. 31 •
• 0 Salinger, 1966.
&1 Pierre Salinger, l'Introduction," in H.W. Chase and A.
H. Lerman, K.§'.D.!:!§'dY ...5!!l'L.:t:J::>.§'....PL"'..s..§ (New York: Thomas Y.
Crowell Company, 1965), p. ix.
,,""' Gar y Will B , Ih "'_Ke.nn§'.9-..Y...l..n}.PEi ~q.!l!Jl."'..l}..t. ( New Yor k : Poe ket
Books, 1982), p. 155.
'"'c~ Quoted in Lewis Paper, Ih~_l?rQ!.~ .!.§..e a.!l.g... 1h.'LJ:.",_.:f9E!ll.~.I::>C::.§'
(New York: Crown Books, 1975), p. 253.
;"" Tom Wicker, Q.!:!......I?.:.....§-''''. (New York: Berkley Books, 1975),
p. 125 .
• ~ Wicker, 1975, pp. 125-6.
26 Stories of extra-marital affairs, Addison's disease,
crude language or early marriages were systematically
wiped £rom public record as Kennedy began to rise in the
political world. The singlemindedness with which
problematic or contrary aspects o£ his li£e .",ere erased
£rom memory also continued a£ter his death, evidenced by
the bitter legal battles that broke out between the
custodians o£ his memory, Robert and Jacqueline Kennedy,
and the appointed historian o£ the assassination, William
Manchester. Battles such as these expanded the parameters
by which Kennedy's memory would be systematically managed,
yet they were £oregrounded by the extensive attempts at
image management that characterized even the initial days
o£ Kennedy's political career •
• 7 These details were prominently £eatured in Goddard
Lieberson's Jf.K.:.._!:\.§_W"'.....E......Ji1_"'.!Jl.Q§'l':...J:L:t!ll. (Ne'H York: Atheneum,
1965) •
•• The validity o£ Kennedy's reputation as a reporter and
writer has recently come under £ire £rom a number of
qu art er s : Both Her bert P a rm e t ' s J ..Iji_c::l~..;.....I.!:Le..._:;'iJE.Y.9g_1_....§ ......Q.f.
[Link]... j[,_....K.§'I!n.....9.y. (New York: Dial Press, 1980) and Wills
(1982) chronicle the stories by which the reputation was
illegitimately instated: ·• •.• When the Ambassador arranged
for his son to travel to use£ul places with press
credentials, (ti§'~~.....yg.!'J:s_.T..tm.5'.§. columnist Arthur) Krock
celebrated him as a brilliant young journalist. Krock even
claimed that Kennedy as a journalistic stringer in England
predicted the surprise 1946 de£eat o£ Winston
Churchill ... John Kennedy the writer was almost entirely
the creation o£ Joseph Kennedy the promoter" (Wills, 1982,
p. 135). Wills and Parmet also convincingly argue that
Kennedy did not write !'..J::[Link].5'-,e.._tI'__Q.Q'd.'F.!!'!.H."'. without
excessive assistance £rom Arthur Krock and Theodore White.
Similarly Wills contends that an earlier book, W.h.Y_....£D.9J..!'-IJ,£
e.±§.P.!:., was heavily edited by Krock and over-used the ideas
o£ economist Harold Laski.
"''3 l;.9.119.1':... 9...[Link]'_tl..l?± i '!LI:!§X. (11 / 12 / 60), P • 7.
 71

30 Quoted in Peter Goldman~ "Kennedy Remembered~··

!'!.§'.I:L",-~'~.§'.15., 11/28/83), p. 66. Kennedy's voracious reading
habits were cited at length by journalists. Joseph Kra£t
at one point generously classi£ied the President's regular
reading material as comprising most o£ the journalistic
community's news lIaccounts, editorials and columns"
[Joseph Kra£t, "Portrai t o£ a President," H-"'.!:p-,;~X_:"? 228
(January 1964), p. 96]. Even the £act that this sometimes
worked to their disadvantage - evidenced by £ormer CBS
Correspondent George Herman's story about the President
"chewing out a reporter £01' a £ootnote that was buried in
a long story" - was subordinated to the interest he
appeared to take in their work (See Paper, 1975, p. 324).
' H David Halberstam, "Introduction," in I!:>e..J~-",-,,!1.§,.c::!Y.
P£§'_,,-..j,.g§'.!"!:t:j...~.L_P..~_"'§'_'?_C::_<:).!1.:f§,.F e.r!£§'§.. (N ew Yo l ' k: Ea rIM. Col em a n
Enterprises, Inc., 1978), p. 11.
3~ Hugh Sidey, quoted in Kunhardt, 1988, p.6.
3 3 Kra£t, 1964, p.96.
:~ ...~ Henry Fairlie, IICamelot Revisited, tI H.§!.~p'e~:r._~ ..?:. (January
1973) •
~l •.' Ben jam i n Br a d 1 ee , g.9n v e!:-'i'.§j;,J..Q!1..e;._.\'iJ tJ:LJte.!"! n !"_9Y.. (N e w Yo l ' k :
[Link], 1975).
;36 M.§!.Jt§_~_~_§.}s., £or instance, called i t a lI£ond memoir o£
JFK" (3/17/75), p. 24.
3 7 Taylor Branch, "The Ben Bradlee Tapes: The Journalist
as Flatterer," !is!£P.§'.~.~.§, (October 1975), p. 35.
:,,>:~;) I.Q.;h£., p .. 43 ~

"'~, David S. Broder, ~§'!>J.!"!.9... t!:'-§....!')::9'!"!_t.._P,!.9."'. (New York:

Tuchstone Books, 1987), p. 157.
4 0 This is detailed in Paper, 1975.
<,·or. See Kenneth P. O'Donnell and David F. Powers • .:'..,:r.'?.hnnY.,_.
\'!.§_J:!.~_;:S!]'.Y ...K.!l§'.':i._X§!.::. ( Bo s ton: Lit tIe, B row nan d Com pa ny,
1970) .
•• Bradlee. 1975 •
....+3 Charles Roberts, IIRecollections" in K. W.. Thompson
(ed . ). I§'n._l'x_~."!J..9..§!.n:t:_"-.._§!nd ._tJ:>_~.. £E§'..'il.§' <La n ham, 11 d. :
UniverSity Press o£ America, 1983).
«.<,. Quoted in Broder, 1987, p. 158.
<"., R"'-':LX.9.~t_._:Li m§'§. ( 2/25/63), P • 5: 6 •
• & I.F. Stone, "The Rapid Deterioration in Our National
Lea d er sh i p," rep r i n ted i n 1!l._~._I.;i.!ll.§'._.g.:f_.I.9!:.r~_"'.!lj:.-"....l,_'?§l_::Z.
(Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1967), p. 6.
4.··.... Christopher Lasch, liThe Li£e o£ Kennedy's Death,1I
H.§..l':..E."'l':.:"'il. (October 1983). p. 33. Lasch also contended that
Kennedy was already made a hero during the 1950s, because
the "academic establishment, journalists and opinion
makers had decreed that the country needed a hero" (p.
33) .
.(~i:;") Henry Fairlie, "Camelot Revisited !i.~_F.:.E_~.;: . ~"g._ Magazine
H
II

<January 1973), p. 76.

 72

40 Halberatam, 1979, p. 316 •

•," ;r. l?J.9.,
P . 132 .
•• It is difficult to find a primary source which
documents the fact the results of the debate between
Kennedy and Nixon were perceived differently by radio and
television users~ While a number o£ studies cite a study
which chronicled differences in opinion among audiences, I
have not been able to locate the original study. However,
even the fact that the claim continues to be made
constitutes a relevant piece of folklore for this
discussion .
•• Popular readings o£ the debate, such as that offered by
Weisman, contend that at the time i t was held, the polls
gave Nixon 48% o£ the vote and Kennedy 42% .
• 3 John Weisman, "An Oral history: Remembering JFK, Our
First TV President," Iy-..~u:Lg§!. (11/19/88), p. 2.
""" Theodore H. Wh i te, Ih"L..!:1§.!i.~!!9:......9.:Lsh§. .R.r.::.~.§J..<;!.§!..!!!'L-_J51'§'Q.
(New York: Atheneum, 1961).
mm Quoted in Weisman, 1988, p. 2.
:~ •., David Halberstam, "President Video," g.§[Link].::.~. 85 (June
1976), pp. 94, 132 .
• 7 Quoted in Halberstam, 1979, p. 398 •
•• Salinger, 1966. p. 53. Kennedy's estimations o£ what he
could lose by implementing the conferences were revealing.
As chronicled by Salinger, they went as follows: "(hel
would not even have the temporary protections of a
transcript check ••• He could not go o££ the record. He
could accuse no one o£ misquoting him" (p. 56).
m. Quoted in Lieberson, 1965, p. 118.
5<> Il?Js!., p. 173.
£",. Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., !1. . . .J.'J:'01,!..'?§.n9.....P...§lJ'.§. (Boston:
Houghton Mi£flin Company, 1965), p. 716 .
•• Wicker, 1975, p. 126.
",;;, Quoted in Henry Fairlie, I.Q~..J;."'.':!.!!.§s!.lL.J2Eg.!'I.,j,..§l."'- (New York:
Doubleday, 1972), p. 174.
<", Ba r ba raM a t u so w, Ih.~...I;.y'§l!!i r\g._.eJ::o.?!.:r..§l. ( Bo s ton: Ho ugh t on
Mifflin, 1983), p. 84 .
•• Halberstam, 1978, p. iv. The possibility of wide public
access was at best only a partial hope. Kennedy's
statement on the Cuban missile crisis was one of the few
times that he went on prime-time television. Most of the
President's news conferences were scheduled at noontime,
when television viewing audiences were small.
~G Paper~ 1975, p~ 234.
67 Bradlee, 1975, p. 123.
f:7~li:\ l.!?A£t..
p. 123 .
".'" The f i 1 m was Q:r.J&!'.'?LJ:l§!.[Link]!...!LP..:r",'?J.<;!~!'-tJ-':!J .. g.9.m.!'I.;i,.t.'-"_<e.n.t.,
produced by Drew Associates in 1963. It was later screened
in 1988 by PBS as part of the series [Link] ....b.!'I.~:r.t.S-':!!!.
 73

g2~p~_;:1§,_!1ce_ under the ti tIe !L§'nn~<:Iy_ ..y. ___W3!~J§S"'J. __ A __9;:J§J~J!:E.

Close.
:;'-;;·--;;Yohn Fitzgerald Kennedy," N_"'-"'!.?,!:!~."'-!>. (12/2/63), p. 45.
7 ' Halberstam, 1979, p. 558.
-""' :):_.b i cl., p. 346.
·73 Gary Paul Gates, !:LL;:.j;,. ~. m.~. (New York: Harper and Row,
1978), p. 5.
7 4 Matusow, 1983, p. 85.
7'" I!::>j,st, p. 85. This was simi lar to the situation of radio
in the 1930s.
7G Metusow, 1983.
!i§H~~._ .. 'yg_:r..~_:[Link].}§:H€?H ( 6 / 8/6 3), P " 52 : 6
7.
7' 7' H

White, 1961, pp. 335-6. While television news appeared

to make inroads at the time in question, this did not
suggest that it had no history before 1960. Already in
1941, CBS was broadcasting two fifteen-minute daily
newscasts to a local New York audience. The newscasts
generally offered unsophisticated footage with talking
heads, and film was taken from newsreel companies. While
John Cameron Swayze went on air daily with NBC's G.?.m..~._;t_
!'I~.~<§_._<;:_?~.?.Y.?.n., the onset of ;?e~_.l1; __NQ.!:!. in 1951 quickly
ranked Edward R. Murrow and Fred Friendly as journalistic
celebrities. Their probing coverage of McCarthyism helped
underscore the potential importance of television news.
Television$s coverage o£ the 1952 Presidential elections
in 1952 not only set up the venerable team of David
Brinkley and Chet Huntley on NBC but also coined the term
"anchorman" for the role played by Walter Cronkite on CBS.
Huntley and Brinkley soon became the ranking team on
television news. See Eric Barnou"" IH.!::>_"'_. ._2:LJ?J,.ent;y (London:
Oxford University Press, 1975). Also see Gary Paul Gates,
~ . j,..:r.!,.im.",. (New York: 1978) and Mitchell Stephens, f,_!.ll§j",Q:rJc.
2.;:__l'l.""_W.?'. (New York: Viking Press, 1988).
7 . This is discussed at length in Gates, 1978.
fi:\O N§:~H...Y2.!'_~__...I.;L!fL~ (8/27/63), p.. 1.
•• Halberstam, 1979 .
•• Pierre Salinger, quoted in Weisman, 1988 •
• 3 Gates, 1978. The growing realization among journaiista
and other participants of the decade that television might
be capable of offering a different background for news was
held responsible £or exacerbating an already existent
rivalry between the two networks, CBS and NBC. To the
disadvantage of ABC, at that time still a fledging
operation, CBS and NBC were competing over who would take
first place in the world of news. NBC - with the
enterprising team of Chet Huntley and David Brinkley -
reportedly possessed the largest share of the news
audience. Their combination of wit p earnestness and
intelligence made the program a mainstay that was
unequalled by CBS. Furthermore, CBS's woeful, and wrong.
 74

prediction of the 1960 elections - giving Nixon a victory

over Kennedy by odds of 100 to one - had made CBS heads
realize that they needed to "catch up" with the other
network. They took a number of steps designed to help them
capture first place. They were first to adopt the expanded
hal£-hour £armat £or news p and they opened new bureaus.
One such bureau was in Dallas, headed by an up-and-coming
correspondent by the name of Dan Rather. They also adopted
technologically sophisticated equipment, which they hoped
would help them efficiently combat the personality cult
that charaterized NBC's Huntley-Brinkley Report .
• 4 Halberstam, 1979, p. 361.
aB Matusow, 1983, p. 85. This also worked in the reverse
direction: For example, the Bay of Pigs was called a total
disaster, but '"not a televised disaster: There were no
cameras on the scene, and although the response to the Bay
of Pigs was televised, Kennedy had the power, and the
authority, and the cool to handle it, putting off all
serious questions about why it had happened in the first
place on the basis of national security" <Halberstam,
1979, p. 385).
as Halberstam, 1979, Pg 384 .
• 7 Matusow, 1983, p. 85 •
•• Halberstam. 1979, p. 316 •
•• Shachtman, 1983, p. 47.
9 0 White, 1982, p. 174.
~1 Stephens, 1988, p. 282.
9 2 Wilbur Schramm, ··Communication in Crisis,'· in Bradley
Green ber g an d Ed win Par k er. T h "'_.K"'!1.!l.",s!y---,,!§.§~-,,,_'?JJl.~.i.;\..9.!L.9n.g.
!;.h.",._Am_",.~i.,.,c::.9IL!2-',1.!?_li<;::. (Palo Alto: Stan£ord University Press,
1965), p. 11.
'3 3 ~_:r_Q...~£.~.~_-?.i..tn.g. (12 / 2/1 963), P P • 44 - 5 ..
"", J;.Q.!i..9F_...<'l,!1..sL.£,l,lP.!..!,:!;D.E!X. (11/30/63), P • 65.
g~ The legitimation of television news was refracted in
chronicles of the decade through many of its other events.
By the end of the sixties, observers would maintain that
"most of us learned about (the events) through
television •.• lt was through the living room pipeline that
we experienced them together" (See Shachtman, 1983, p.
15) .
"'~G Wicl.:;:er, 1975, p . 2.
'i;~?

· .
I.l2.t£!., p 2
Ibid
",.~{:,\
-_._
·
.... _. __ .1 p 175.
_............... , P 175.
<:;~'{f)
Ibid
..... ·
 75

CHAPTER THREE

RHETORICAL LEGITIMATION AND JOURNALISTIC AUTHORITY

Journalists~ ability to forward themselves over time

as the authorized spokespeople for the events of Kennedy's

death was predicated on their use of narratives about

Kennedy~s assassination in deliberate and strategic ways.

To a degree, narrative's relevance in accomplishing such

an aim has been built into existing models of journalistic

practice. For while journalists have long been viewed as

skilled tellers of events who reconstruct activities

behind the news through stories p their claims to

legitimacy are also rhetorically based. The suggestion

that journalists legitimate themselves through the

rhetoric they use thus has particular bearing on their

emergence as authorized tellers of the assassination

story.

In the pages that follow, I discuss the particular

role played by journalists' narrative and rhetoric in

setting them up as the authorized spokespeople of the

story o£ Kennedy's assassination~ This chapter first

explores the theoretical relevance of narrative as a tool

of rhetorical legitimation. It then discusses three major

strategies of narrative reconstruction by which

journalists have attempted to retell the assassination

 76

story. Finally, it considers the aigni£icance o£ narrative

adjustment, and the way in which it has offered

journalists fertile ground on which to authorize

themselves as preferred tellers of the assassination

story.

Legitimating speakers through rhetoric has

traditionally concerned analysts of public discourse. Its

salience was particularly foregrounded when the ascent of

the mass media generated what were construed as changes in

the structure of discourse. Media technologies were seen

as creatively expanding the range and type of stages

available to public speakers, thereby altering the

potential by which they could effectively authorize

themselves But the ability of speakers to legitimate

themselves through their tales has long been of concern to

rhetoricians, small-group communication researchers,

folklorists, anthropologists and sociologists alike. As

modern forms of public discourse have offered an

increasingly complex mix of different kinds of content

attending to different communicative aims, media

researchers have also begun to focus on the problems

implied by rhetorical legitimation in mediated public

d i securee ~H:.
 77

One shared assumption about the legitimation of

speakers through rhetoric is the view that it is both a

rational and strategic practice. Aristotle was perhaps

first to define rhetoric as invoking the effect of

persuasion, or the wielding of power:

The primary goal of rhetorical discourse is what

the persuasionachieves •.• Rhetorical narratives
exist beyond (their) own textuality 3 .

A regard for narrative as an act of strategic dimension

was also suggested by sociologist Max Weber, who forwarded

the notion that people act rationally in order to

legitimate themselves But the potential for

legitimating oneself through rhetoric has been most

directly addressed by Jurgen Habermas. Habermas maintains

that speakers employ language to effect various kinds of

consensus about their activity:

Under the functional aspect of reaching

understanding~ communicative action serves the
transmission and renewal of cultural knowledge;
under the aspect of coordinating action, it
serves social integration and the establishment
of group solidarity; under the aspect of
socialization, it serves the £ormation of
personal identities 5 .

Speakers use language, discourse and by implication

narrative to achieve aims often related to freedom and

dependence, with objectives like social cohesion, group

solidarity or legitimation directly upheld or disavowed by

What a speaker says &

 78

Notions about narrative as strategic practice suggest

its implication in the accomplishment o:f community and

authorit.y. In particular, narrative is seen as an

[Link]tive tool in maintaining collective codes o:f

Imowledge. In this light, narrative :functions much like a

meta-code for speaJters, a point proposed nearly two

decades ago by Roland Barthes. It o:f:fers speakers an

underlying logic by which to implement more general

communicative conventions and allows :for the [Link]tive

sharing and transmission o:f stories within culturally and

socially explicit codes o£ meaning ' . This idea - which

upholds the ritual dimensions of communication activities

has been suggested by theorists as wide-ranging as

Hayden White, Lucaites and Condit, the narrative paradigm

o£ Walter Fisher, and in a more general :fashion by social

constructivists like Berger and Luckmann Within the

meta-code o£ narrative, reality becomes accountable in

view o:f the stories told about it. But it becomes

accountable only to those who share the codes o:f knowledge

which it invokes.

These three points about narrative - its ability to

invoke community, its employment as a strategic act o:f

legitimation and its :function in constructing reality

suggest that journalists, as speakers in discourse, have

employed a broad range o:f stylistic and narrative devices

 79

to uphold parameters o£ their own authority. As Hayden

White argues:

once we note the presence o£ the theme o£

authority in the text, we also perceive the
extent to which the truth claims o£ the
narrative and indeed the very right to narrate
hinges upon a certain relationship to authority
per 5e 'if) ...

This suggests that with public speakers in a variety o£

modes of discourse, questions o£ narrative are at least

partially entwined with questions o£ authority and

legitimation.

The role o£ narrative reconstruction in achieving

legitimation becomes particularly relevant when

considering the evolution o£ particular stories over time.

Many literary theorists have allowed £or the possibility

o£ £alse authority in the communication of historical

narratives. Work in £olklore has also made suggestions

about the dissemination of narratives across time and

space The cumulative addition o£ new speakers - hence,

new information- as time and space un£olds is thereby

seen as positioning and repositioning speakers vis a vis

original events, recon£iguring their authority. In such a

way, di££erent aims having little to do with narrative

activity are seen as becoming di££erentially embedded as

narratives are replayed across time and space. This

£ocuses attention on tellers o£ the tale, £or as Hayden

White notes,
 80

a specifically historical inquiry is born less

of the necessity to establish that certain
events occurred than of the desire to determine
what certain events might ~~~Q for a given
group, society, or culture's conception o£ its
present tasks and future prospects " .

Which speakers emerge as authorized voices of a given

story thus reveals much about the practices by .. hich they

are rhetorically legitimated and the authority through

which they are culturally constituted. It suggests that

telling a tale has much to do with the attributes and

authority of its teller. Ultimately, this £ocuses

attention on the inevitability of narrative adjustment in

retelling a given tale, and the possibility that the

reconstructive work it implies can be taken in accordance

with aims associated with the speaker's legitimation.

Such premises about narrative and rhetorical

legitimation are o£ direct relevance to journalism

pro£essionals, whose work has long been characterized as

an entanglement o£ narrative, authority and rhetorical

legitimation :l .•?.
While nearly all professional groups have

evolved in association formalized bodies of

knowledge, much of the professional authority of

journalists has corne to rest not in what they know but in

how they use it in narrative practice. This means that

their rhetoric offers them an effective way of realizing

their legitimation as public speakers. Such an analysis

not only emphasizes the ritual dimensions of

 81

communication, but it again suggests the regard £or

journalists as an interpretive community, held together by

its tales, narratives and rhetoric.

In such a light, the £oundations o£ creating

journalistic authority £or the assassination are embedded

within the narrative £ramework by which journalists have

told its story. This is £acilitated by the £act that

rhetorical legitimation constitutes a characteristic trait

o£ journalistic practice. Journalists have used their

narratives to legitimate their actions as pro£essionals.

The immediate and ready linkage between journalists and

their narratives has thus invited a wide-ranging and

identi£iable corpus by which journalists have addressed

not only their coverage o£ Kennedy's death but also

ongoing discourses about cultural authority, journalistic

pro£essionalism and the legitimation o£ television

journalism ..

Journalists have employed a number o£ narrative

strategies by which they re£erence their own legitimation

through the assassination story. While each o£ these

strategies will be discussed in detail in subsequent

chapters, they are mentioned here in order to generate an

understanding o£ how rhetorical legitimation works and how

narrative £unctions to promote a shared lore among

journalists.
 82

;!TBAI.EG_g~_9LJ3gI£~~lJiG_JJ:lg__ AS;;iI"?J3.J..R~n9l!.

The assassination of John F. Kennedy constitutes one

incident which has invited narratives addressing the

rhetorical legitimation of journalists. Seen as a critical

incident among journalism professionals :L .;:,,;

, that

journalists have used to evaluate and reconsider notions

of professional practice and journalistic authority, the

assassination story has offered journalists a particularly

fruitful corpus through which to construct and reconstruct

the story of their assassination coverage. Through it,.

they have also set up foundations by which they can claim

to be the story's authorized spokespeople.

Retelling the assassination of John F. Kennedy has

provided a viable cornerstone against which the

reconstructive work of journalists has flourished.

Retellings of the assassination have produced a huge body

of literature, including nearly 200 books within 36 months

of his death, hundreds of periodical pieces, television

retrospectives and at least 12 newsletters In all

medial names of reporters have been thrust forward, often

in front of the names of organizations employing them.

Stories of the assassination coverage have traded and

paraded the names of individual reporters as emblems of

authority for the events of those four November days.

Retelling the Kennedy assassination has given journalists

 83

a
stage on which to spread tales and gain status for their

telling.

Journalists were not the only ones vying to retell

what had happened, especially when the possibilities of

conspiracy became more pallatable during the late 1960s.

By that point, ""newsmen, police, intelligence agencies

examined the evidence" 1~, as did historians, novelists

and screenplay writers. One early suggestion that

journalists would not play an understated role in

retelling the events of that November weekend was found in

correspondent Charles Roberts' critique of

assassination buff Mark Lane. Roberts complained that

Lane, ",ho provided "the only complete published list of

wi tnesses·' to the assassination, failed to include "some

50 Washington correspondents who were on press buses" SG.

This suggested as early as 1967 that journalists would

promote themselves as central players in establishing the

official record of Kennedy's assassination.

Over time, journalists have chosen many formats in

which to incorporate themselves and their memories into

the assassination story. Appraisals of Kennedy's

administration have been marked with references to his

assassination .. Nostalgic "'period"" pieces have reserved a

place for journalists' personal memories. Articles, books

and documentaries have provided investigatory glimpses of

 84

the assassination, including £resh perspectives on then-

reigning conspiracy theories. Regardless of format, most

attempts to address the assassination have re£erenced some

aspect o£ the reportorial role in covering it. As one 1988

television retrospective remarked on showing Kennedy being

hit by bullets:

President and Mrs. Kennedy in the final seconds

be£ore that aw£ul moment (pause, while shot £rom
Zapruder £ilm shown). A moment etched forever in
our hearts. An hour later NBC correspondent Chet
Huntley and Frank McGee relayed the news we had
all £eared most 0 7 .

The relay of memories about the assassination ensured that

the journalist-as-teller became embedded in the event's

telling. This has created a place £or narrative within the

retellings o£ the assassination. Over time, it has also

created a situation by which actual news coverage has been

held up by journalists as the "preferred evidence'· o£

their assassination recollections.

Implicit in retelling the assassination - regardless

o£ the medium which journalists have used to do so - is

narration, or how journalists have narratively retold

events. Retelling the events o£ November, 1963 constitutes

an imprecise history by which journalists have narratively

reconstructed the story in ways which address and

reinforce - their own legitimation and authorization as

speakers. By de£inition, narrative accomodates the

inclusion of narrators within the assassination story.

 85

Telling the story (of recollections of the assassination)

of the story (of the assassination coverage) through the

story (of the journalists who covered it) has introduced

rounds of narration that mediate the resulting narration

record.

This was exemplified in a 1988 NBC television

retrospective on the assassination .. The documentary

positioned Edwin Newman as extern",l narrator; Chet

Huntley, David Brinkley and Frank McGee as internal

narrators; and various reporters- like Bill Ryan or Tom

Pettit - as on-the-site chroniclers of events The

story progressed as if there were no visible difference in

the temporal frames occupied by each chronicler: Yet Edwin

Newman spoke 25 years after events, Frank McGee spoke the

night of the assassination, and Tom Pettit spoke a few

moments after Oswald was shot. The fact that they were all

brought together as if they were relating one

chronological story neutralized the differences involved

in occupying alternate temporal frames. It made the role

o£ external narrators central in a way that suggested a

(false) proximity to the events in Dallas, enhancing the

authority of those spokespeople who were both temporally

and spatially furthest from the original events of

Kennedy's death.
 86

Narrative has thereby accomodated the inclusion o£

narrators regardless o£ the part they originally played in

the assassination coverage. It has also given journalists

a way to legitimate their connection to the story years

a£ter the assassination took place, and miles away £rom

its original events. It is thus no surprise that very £ew

articles or news-items. about the assassination hsve

remained anonymous .. Those that did are generally

editorials that bear the collective mark o£ the

institutions that produced them. Instead, most e££orts at

journalistic recollection have not only been authored but

identi£ied by individual author's name. One CBS

retrospective, £or instance, documented the £our days o£

Dallas coverage through the persona o£ anchorperson Dan

Rather. By repeatedly coming back to £ilm clips o£ Rather,

the documentary gave the impression that he was

responsible £or all o£ the network's original coverage

£rom Dallas i'a This supports his central presence in the

documentary as narrator.

This is not to suggest that narration has been

realized in a haphazard or sporadic £ashion. As Lucaites

and Condit have suggested, narrative £unctions as a

pragmatic and critical choice on the part o£ speakers.

Rhetorical narrative, in particular, has evolved as

 87

distinct from other kinds of narratives due to its

dependence on larger discourses:

Rhetorical narration constitutes only one part

of the discourse in which i t appears •.. The claim
supported by a rhetorical narrative must be
calculated outside of the narration .0.

The fact that the original recording Ox events - such as

the television footage or step-by-step prose accounts of

Kennedy's shooting - has often stayed the same while the

narration about i t has changed with each retrospective or

publication has allowed journalists to differentially

contextualize stories o£ their coverage. The strategic

adjustments of memory which narration implies has tended

to correspond to larger discourses through which

journalists have recalled the assassination. They have

done so in ways which uphold ongoing discourses both about

the legitimacy of television news and the consolidation of

journalism professionals.

Recognizing the need for narrators in assassination

retellings in itself references a collective code by which

journalists have agreed to accomodate their presence in

their tales. The place created for narrative within

assassination retellings thus upholds more general notions

about the role of narrative in consolidating them into a

community. It also references the role of narrative in

constructing reality. In particular, the narrative

adjustments by which journalists have retold their part in

 88

the assassination suggests the employment of narrative to

realize aims o:f legitimation. The fact that narrative has

persisted over time and space allows speakers to

reposition themselves around such an aim in a variety of

ways.

Journalists have relied upon three main narrative

strategies to recollect the assassination. These

strategies have been invoked both alone and in tandem~

exemplifying the complex nature of journalists~

reconstructive work in retelling their coverage of the

events of Dallas: They include synecdoche, personalization

and rearrangement.

Synecdoche, or the narrative strategy by which the

part is called to '"stand in"" for the whole is

frequently used by journalists in recollecting their

accounts of Kennedy's death. Within the assassination

narrative, this strategy allows journalists to borrow the

authority accrued from having covered certain events, and

apply i t to events they did not experience.

For example, a rifle being withdrawn from a window in

the Texas Schoolbook Depository olas used to stand in for

witnessing Oswald's shooting ••• References to a bullet

being pumped into Oswald's stomach signified his shooting

 89

e3. A foot sticking into the air from the back of the

president's limousine signified Kennedy's death

The most illustrative example of synecdoche can be

found by examining the actual facts behind journalists./'

coverage o£ the assassination story. Scholarship on the

assassination has established that journalists effectively

covered the events of the longer 'Jeekend In

particular" they covered the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald

by capturing his shooting on live camera" a feat then

labelled a "£irst in television history" ;:;:e. and since

hailed as exemplary reporting. Similarly, [Link] coverage

o£ Kennedy's funeral made them into masters of ceremonies"

who were lauded for having played an active part in

healing the nation Against these two aspects of the

longer assassination weekend" journalistic coverage or

Kennedy's assassination has been touted as one of the

journalistic triumphs of contemporary history.

Yet closer examination reveals that this was a

constructed notion that set in after the assassination

weekend had passed. Moments of triumph were unevenly

scattered across the assassination weekendw Journalistic

coverage began, in reporter Tom Wicker's wordsii' "when it

was allover" "";. Although journalists provided prompt and

comprehensive coverage, it was fraught with problems: Most

journalists did not see Kennedy shot, did not hear Kennedy
 90

shot, chronicled reports on the basis of hearsay and

rumor" lacked access to recognizable and authoritative

sourcesI' and processed faulty information S'~'r:) Proven

journalistic methods- such as reliance on eyewitness

status, accessi~g high-ranking sources, or fact

verification - were all unhelpful. The speed with which

information could be transmitted outpaced the reporters~

ability to gather it. They simply could not keep up. And

this took place in front of one of the largest audiences

in media history.

Moreover, the extensive involvement of amateurs and

laypersons challenged the professionalism of journalists.

Eyewitness testimony was provided not by the fifty-some

journalists in the motorcade but by ordinary bystanders

who had not been paid to ··cover the body" of the

President, but who did so anyway. Pho"tographic

documentation, including the famous Zapruder film, was

provided not by the 50-some journalists riding in the

Presidential motorcade but by local merchants, housewives,

businesspeople and other laypersons 30. Abraham Zapruder p

the dressmaker who provided what has come to be called one

of the most studied films in history, actually forgot his

motion-picture camera and had to go home to retrieve it

before the motorcade~s arrival 3~

 91

While these points will be addressed in more detail

in later chapters, the sketchy overview offered here

suggests that journalists' coverage of the death of John

Kennedy was problematic. On the provision of

information, the original journalistic task of covering

his shooting, journalists simply did not make the grade.

From this perspective, their coverage reflected a

situation of journalistic failure, casting the ability of

journalists to serve as spokespeople for the event as

false. Authority needed to be constructed not through

their actions but through their narratives about those

actions .. In other words, journalists needed to

rhetorically legitimate themselves in order to offset what

was in effect a basically problematic performance.

The ability of journalists over time to forward not

the problem-ridden version of the assassination coverage

but the version that hailed their activities as a

professional triumph has been made possible in part

through the narrative strategy of synecdoche. Through

synecdoche, journalists have made the assassination

narrative into one long story that extended from Friday

until the following Monday. It tells the tale of Kennedy's

death, Oswald's murder and the funeral of the President in

a way that lends closure to the upheaval suggested by the

events of those four days. By adopting one long narrative,

 92

journalists have success£uly overstated their successes of

coverage and underplayed their failures. By invoking what

was seen as "successful u coverage - the funeral or the

shooting of Oswald - as representative of all journalistic

performances o£ the assassination weekend p they have

turned aside potential criticism of their performance.

Rhetorical legitimation has thus been facilitated by

the natural tenor of events during that long weekend. For

e::>cample, many of the problematic aspects of coverage on

the day Kennedy was shot were resolved by the day he was

buried: Journalists' lack of eyewitness status in the

shooting was resolved by their presence both at the

funeral and at Oswald's murder. Issues of fact

verification appeared less salient once the more general

facts of Kennedy's death and Oswald's presumed role in it

were confirmed. The accessibility of sources played less

of a role as the unravelling of what had happened took

shape through the eywitness accounts of non-official

sources, usually bystanders. Disjunctions between the

rapid pace of information relay - made possible by wire

services, radio and television- and the slower pace of

journalists' information gathering became less central as

the events of the weekend edged into the funeral, where

little information-gathering was necessary. Within all of

these circumstances, the fact that journalists missed the

 93

shooting was recast as an incidental part of a larger

journalistic triumph rather than maintained as an

independent mishap that cast serious doubts on their

professionalism.

It is important to note that technology has been

portrayed as central to the accomplishment of journalistic

work .. Photographs, affadavits, films all have given

journalists a way of going back and retelling their role

in the assassination in a way that let them take

responsibility for both the work of other journalists and

news organizations. It facilitated synecdochal

representations of the event, by which journalists could

emerge as authoritative spokespeople for the assassination

story, regardless of what they personally had done. seen

or heard. This situation was particularly fruitful for the

legitimation of certain journalists as speakers over

others.

Thus synecdoche has given journalists a credible role

in the larger assassination narrative, constructed by them

as extending from Kennedy's shooting to his funeral four

days later. Portraying events within one long narrative

has made them responsible for the story in its entirety.

Synecdoche blurred the problems that characterized many of

their activities. It blurred what was and was not

··professional"' about their coverage. It also helped

 94

journalists assume responsibility for events which went

beyond their personal experience, by hinging discussions

less directly on what journalists had actually done and

more on the images o:f journalistic coverage that both

journalists and news organizations were interested and

invested in perpetuating.

A second strategy o:f retelling the assassination is

through personalization a Recollecting events has been

accomplished through the persona o£ reporters, with

assassination coverage documented through their personal

experiences. Journalists have tended to set up their

:familiarity with the events of Dallas, so as to later play

off the authority which it gave them.

Personalized narrative has been most effectively

grounded in journalists' physical presence in Dallas

during the assassination weekend. Journalists who were

there wrote and spoke of their eyewitness experiences

under titles which underscored their authority for events.

Ttm.§'. correspondent Hugh Sidey authorized his account o£

the Kennedy Presidency by noting that "r was with him in

Dallas, Texas on November 22, 1963. Few correspondents who

were there will ever forget that day"

correspondent Tom Wicker credential led one of his books

with the note that "his two years as White House

 95

correspondent included coverage of President Kennedy's

assassination U ~3. Pictures £rom the assassination weekend

were reproduced with markers encircling reporters' heads

or torsos. An article by !'L~.~_"!~_~.§,-Is. reporter Charles Roberts

reproduced a photograph of Roberts at the LBJ swearing-in

aboard Air Force One. In the picture, thick white arrows

pointed at Roberts' head, situated behind that of the

Vice-President ~4. A book by the same author reproduced a

picture of the press credentials that Roberts had used in

Dallas on its back flap ""'.

'~
Television retrospectives began by setting out the

November 1963 presence of their narrators, detailing

exactly where in Dallas they had been. Reporter Steve

Bell,

but then a national correspondent, recollected the 25th

anniversary of Kennedy's death on the evening news in the

following way:

In Omaha, Nebraska, this young reporter and his

wife had just been told by the doctor that our
first child would be born any day now. Then the
President was dead, and I was sent to Dallas to
cover the aftermath 3 _ ,

The program then proceeded to document not only what had

happened when Kennedy was shot but what else Bell had done

in Dallas. For example, it included repeat on-air footage

of Bell's original televised coverage twenty-five years

earlier.
 96

Setting up the journalist's presence in Dallas was

central to legitimating the journalist as an authorized

speaker for the assassination story. Recalling the

assassination story was ~lso grounded in [Link] monitoring

positions which certain reporters like Harrison

Salisbury or Walter Cronkite held at network or

newspaper headquarters. In an article entitled '"The

Editor's View in New York," Salisbury recalled how his

position at the

assassination coverage ~7a His reconstruction of events

reinforced the importance o£ his role in covering the

assassination. Indeed, the relevance attached to

monitoring the assassination story was somewhat

underscored in assassination tales from their outset. Said

Marya ~Iannes in Ihe.. .J:Lee.E.9E_t.§~_ o£ December 19, 1963:

I listened to the familiar voices o£ those men

who we are highly privileged as a people to have
as interpreters o£ events: Edward Morgan and
Howard K. Smith, Walter Cronkite and Eric
Sevareid and Charles Collingwood, Chet Huntley
and David Brinkley. Marvin Kalb and Robert
Pierpoint ':i>,s.

Few o£ the reporters Mannes mentioned were in Dallas. Most

were anchorpersons or correspondents who monitored and

commented upon the assassination story from afar ~ •.

Journalists also used their tales to document their

intentions o£ having been present at the event in Dallas:

Twenty-£ive years after the assassination p television

 97

reporter Edwin Newman was called upon to narrate NBC's

opus six and one-half hour reconstruction of events. He

began his narration by saying that "r myself, having been

told that I would be going to Dallas went instead to

Washington on a plane NBC had chartered" 40. Reporter John

Chancellor introduced another television retrospective by

talking about his experiences in Berlin at the time that

Kennedy was shot What was not made clear in either

case was why these experiences credential led them to

authoritatively speak about the events of Kennedy's death.

Personalizations> made explicit by the personal

experiences and narratives of journalists, has thus helped

to anchor and authenticate institutional recollections of

the assassination. It allows media institutions to invoke

the experiences of certain journalists as legitimate

reconstructions o£ the assassination story_ In both the

press and broadcast media, journalists are able to

position themselves in authoritative positions vis a vis

the assassination weekend through their personal

experiences .. Doing so, however, blurs the fact that many

personal narratives based on such experiences bear

questionable authority for the events in Dallas. Working

on the assassination story from afar thus constitutes a

potentially faulty frame through which to recollect the

assassination ,.eekend. The fact that personalized

 98

narrative has been held up by news organizations as a

legitimate way to anchor institutional recollections of

the assassination story~ hO\lJever ~ reinforces its

importance. Wittingly or not, it has also set up a

credible frame"Jork by which to legitimate certain

journalists as speakers for the assassination story,

regardless of the role they actually played in covering

it.

Yet a third way of retelling the assassination is

through rearrangement. Rearranged narrative has generated

many holes of memory in the assassination story, as

journalists have reconstructed their assassination

coverage by rearranging time, people and places connected

with original assassination tales. The role of radio. for

example, was literally erased from institutional

recollections of events. Although mos·t -television

retrospectives employed radio broadcasts as background

when discussing television's part in covering the

assassination, few have problematized radio's coverage or

identified it - either by medium. network or individual

reporter. Books and articles employ fragments of radio

broadcasts, usually vaguely referencing them as "radio

broadcasters".
 99

Other holes o£ memory perpetuated by rearranged

narrative include the controversy surrounding television's

£acilitation o£ the death o£ Lee Harvey Oswald. The

disappearance o£ this speci£ic discourse over time has

played directly into ongoing notions o£ what it means to

be a journalism pro£essional. The intruding presence o£

journalists in the corridor where Oswald was shot - the

cables, equipment, sheer numbers - was enough o£ a problem

a£ter the assassination to generate many o££icial and

pro£essional censures of" journalistic behavior The

Warren Report even had a special section called liThe

Activity ox Newsmen,,11 where it examined the problematic

aspects o£ journalistic per£ormances in Dallas Yet

contemporary mention of that dimension o£ journalistic

behavior in Dallas is di££icult to £ind. Contemporary

renditions o£ the Oswald story have instead cast it as the

pro£essional triumph that was implicit in the scoop o£

having caught the murder on live camera. Other holes o£

memory have included the role o£ amateur photographers and

£ilmmakers in capturing Kennedy's shooting, and the

assistance engendered by local media in covering the

assassination. Although immediately hailed £or the help

lent national media during the events in Dallas 4., today

local reporters receive nary a mention in assassination

recollections.
 100

The most interesting rearrangements Or assassination

coverage are found in the people who have disappeared from

institutional recollections of the story. CBS reporter

Eddie Barker~ for example p who was news director o£ CBS"s

affiliate in Dallas, played a major role in the

assassination coverage, providing the first unconfirmed

reports that Kennedy was dead.

conveyed shortly afterwards:

KRLD-TV newsman Eddie Barker, after having

talked to a doctor at the hospital, made the
initial report that the President was dead.
Walter Cronkite in New York continually referred
to this report but emphasized i t was not
official. Thus, CBS had a beat of several
minutes that Mr. Kennedy had died of his wounds

Also at the scene of the assassination, Dan Rather

followed Barker's dispatch with twa uno££icial

confirmations before Kennedy's death was officially

established.

Yet how has this story held up over time? In

contemporary chronicles, Barkerl's role in the story is

mentioned in only the most extensive and detailed

accounts. Generally, they follow the line taken by this

1989 recounting:

"The eyes of Walter Cronkite swelled ~Iith tears

when he heard, from a young Dan Rather, that
President Kennedy was dead" '.''''.

Another version, penned in 1983, claimed that "thanks to

Rather, CBS achieved another '£irst" the news that

 101

Kennedy was dead" Yet another, written in 1978,

mentioned that first Rather, then Barker had received word

that Kennedy was dead ••. A number of facts have been

invalidated by these accounts: That Cronkite heard the

news initially from Barker and only afterward from Rather;

that Cronkite's eyes swelled with tears when he received

official confirmation of the death, not when he heard it

from Rather; and that the "first·· of conf irmi ng Kennedy's

death was accomplished by Barker, not Rather. Most

accounts of CBS' coverage o£ events have rarely conveyed

correct versions of the incident, instead highlighting Dan

Rather within the story at the expense of the lesser-known

(and non CBS-employed) Eddie Barker. In other words, the

role of [Link] local reporter has been consistently

understated alongside the more extensive accounts accorded

his or her national counterpart.

The purpose of rearranged narrative is thus to help

certain journalists and news organizations rhetorically

legitimate their presence within the assassination story.

There are many examples of what is gained here:

Understating the role of radio overstates the role of

television; shifting attention away from the role of

amateurs focuses attention on the function ox journalism

professionals; deleting mention of local media enhances

recollections of the performances of national media.

 102

Rearranged narrative has thus reflected ongoing discourses

about the rightful boundaries of journalistic practice and

authority. Journalistic recollections o£ the assassination

coverage have been strategically rearranged to produce a

uniform narrative that plays up the role of professional

journalists~ particularly those employed by the national

broadcast media, in covering the assassination story.

Rearrangement is thus directly linked with larger

discourses about shifting boundaries of cultural

authority, changing definitions of journalistic

pro£essionalism and the emerging legitimation of

television news.

The narrative strategies by which journalists have

retold the assassination story have thereby set up an

extensive which journalists are able -to

rhetorically reconstruct the part they originally played

in the assassination story. Personalization centers

recollections on journalists' personal experiences and

narratives, highlighting the importance of the reporter

within the larger contex't of Kennedy's death.

Rearrangement promotes the presence of certain

journalists, practices and news organizations within those

recollections. And synecdoche contextualizes the

personalized rearrangements of journalists within larger

narratives about the legitimation of television journalism

 103

and journalistic professionalism. While the precise ways

in which journalists have used these strategies will be

addressed in coming chapters, it is fitting to note here

that journalists~ strategies of retelling the

assassination have foregrounded a self-referential

discourse that in many cases conceals a false authority

for the events of that weekend. Regardless of the

integrity of such a discourse, it has played a critical

part in journalists' self-legitimation as their

assassination tales have been disseminated across time and

space.

B.H J;[Link]:J:.gAb.J,~EG I II.![Link];.GJlb,IYKf.l!,,__f.!YTH Q3JI.L..I.!:IB9Jl.G.!:!

H~ [Link].Y);:.)\J?[Link]':2L!1!UII

By setting up the foundations by which journalists

would emerge as authorized spokespeople for the

assassination through their retellings of its story over

time and space, narrative has thereby fostered the

rhetorical legitimation of journalists. While it did not

signal the complete process by which journalists would

emerge as the story's authorized spokespople, it has

nonetheless provided the groundwork on which their

authorized presence could and did flourish. The fact that

journalists' retellings of the story of Kennedy's death

have accomodated the presence of narrators, in a variety

of forms" has made retellings of the story largely

 104

dependent on journalists~ presence as storytellers.

Narrative has thereby set in motion a somewhat circular

process of legitimating journalists as authorized public

speakers: Over time,. the assassination story has most

effectively been told by journalists authorized to speak

for its events. But by the same token, journalists have

become increasingly authorized and legitimated as

spokespersons for the story through their presence in the

narratives which have relayed its events.

Much of this has been realized through the acceptance

and recognition of narrative adjustment as a legitimate

way of retelling the assassination. The implicit

acceptance of constructed versions of' reality, making

reality accountable through the stories told about it, has

allowed journalists to strategize their assassination

retellings by adjusting them to meet collective aims. The

fact that narrative adjustment- in all its forms - has

evolved into an acceptable practice for telling the

assassination story has erased barriers that in other

circumstances might have [Link] journalists'

rhetorical legitimation. The peculiar reality-based claims

of assassination narratives,. coupled by the large spatial

and temporal spans through which they have been

disseminated .. suggests that they have involved a mode of

adjustment that fertilizes journalists' attempts to

 105

legitimate themselves. This in turn has increased the

possibility of adjusting narratives in accordance with

even larger agendas - about journalistic professionalism,

cultural authority, and television journalism

engendering the cyclical nature of rhetorical

legitimation. [Link] such parameters, the consolidating

moves of journalists around the centrality of narrative

have upheld their functioning as an interpretive community

and solidified the ritual aspects of their retellings.

It is important to note that the acceptance of

narrative adjustment as a mode of retelling the

assassination was derived in no small part from the chaos

that surrounded the events of Kennedy's death. Audiences

existed - for however transient a period of time in

cirucmstances or confusion, void and uncertainty. The

ability of journalists to step into those circumstances

and emerge as authoritative spokespeople was thus in part

circumstantial, with legitimacy derived from the

audience's suspension of judgment. Yet the overwhelming

need for cohesion and community not only on the

journalists' part but on the public's too - has allowed

journalistic authority to flourish through the narratives

that journalists have told.

Against these circumstances, these pages have

suggested how, in the case of the Kennedy assassination,

 106

narrative set the groundwork by which journalists have

transformed themselves into more authoritative

spokespeople than warranted by their actual connection to

the assassination story. Journalists have used narrative

strategies of adjustment to offset what was often false

authority for the actual assassination story. The rhetoric

of self-legitimation on which this was predicated has been

embedded by journalists within the assassination tales

themselves. This exemplifies Habermas' contention that

speakers in public discourse use "street t",isdom" as

effective rationale to exercise a basically false

authority.

Narrative has played a central role in setting up a

certain image of journalists in conjunction with their

coverage of the events in Dallas. In order for

journalists' versions o£ the assassination story to emerge

as authorized perspectives, there was need for routinized

and repeatable narratives by which the part played by

journalists would be told. Reporters' assassination tales

has thus become instrumental in setting up and maintaining

the parameters of the events of Kennedy's death not only

'.
for those concerned with the tale of the President's death

but with the tellers who told it. While the rhetoric of

journalistic legitimation has been subsequently cemented

by other features - such as journalists'" assumptions o£

 107

different roles through their assassination narratives-

the process of legitimating journalists as spokespeople

for the assassination story is grounded in its

legitimation as a strategy in public discourse. Through

narrative, the ability of journalists to promote

themselves as cultural authorities for the story of

Kennedy's assassination was made possible~

i This argument has been most forcefully advanced by

technological determinists who contend that the form of
establishing authority in public discourse is directly
determined by the attributes of the medium at hand [See
Harold A. Inois, g:.[Link]!:"' ....~!1.9.J::. [Link].m . . E}1ic.."!tig!l.§. (Toronto:
1 972) ; Mar sha 11 Mc L uh a 0 , ll..'-'...9"'§"J;'..§...t,.?!!1sl..in.SLl1.."'..<::I....i a ( Land 0 n :
Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1964)].
'" This point is suggested by Barbara Herrnstein Smith, Qn.
th. "'. . . . !1....X...9..i!1.§...._9Lj:)jd;s::C;gg. . '?e (Ch i cago : Un i ver sit Y of Ch i cago
Press, 1978). Communication studies in this area include
work by the Center for Contemporary Cultural Studies in
Birmingham, the Glasgow Uni versi ty Media Group [!?'.§..£ . . B§',ws.
(London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1976); !:!g!:.§....J?.§!..£L.l'r..",. .~. .§.
(London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1980], and work from
Australia on institutional language [ie., Gunther Kress
and Rober t Hod g e , !"3'!}1...9.~1 a g.§'........"!..'?........l::g.!'e..9..+-9. 9..l!.. ( Lon don: R0 utI ed g e
and Kegan Paul, 1979)]. Each perspective focuses upon the
workings of language and authority in institutional and
mediated settings.
3 Cited in John L. Lucaites and Celeste Condit,
"Reconstructing Narrative Theory: A Functional
Parspacti ve," ,:[guF.!l....§!.J,........9.;L£211imtL'-'...L~.?!.tLC>.!l (Special Issue
entitled "Homo Narrans: Story-telling in Mass Culture and
Everyday Life"), (Autumn 1985), pp. 93-4.
~1' Max We b er, !1§L~..w.§1?_§:_:r.._!. . . . ~~ . +.. §.9J!_.~..Q)}_§._".JIL..I.;:.§H~..§J._~.L.t..Q.n.
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978).
Legitimation, he contended, provides an effective
rationale for most communication acts, in that individuals
are ultimately concerned with legitimating themselves.
Rational acts across domains - such as speaking or telling
stories - can thus be seen as attempts to realize
objectives o£ power.
"" Jurgen Habermas, Ih.§', . . Ih§.9.:rY,. . ..9...L .. 9..9. .[Link].!'!.E!l...j..C. §.tJ. .Y§'"..l?s:J:,.J.... .9n
.~Y.9.L,. .,. );X (Boston: Beacon Press, 1981), p. xxiv""xxv.
 108

(,; Robe r t Wu t h now et aI, G.l'J. t-"'L?_l,. _.Jtl}~.J...Y.§..:i-_s.. (L 0 n don:

Routledge Kegan Paul, 1984), p. 190. The ability o£
communication to uphold consensus in realizing these aims
determines whether true~ or e££ective~ communication has
been achieved.
7 Roland Barthes, "Introduction to the Structural Analysis
o £ Na r rat i v e p.1 i n J.;JTI.~-s!.9§.J._.~.!'1..b1:.§J~9...J.'__ ...:L@..£~ ( NeVI Yo r k: H i 11 and
Wang, 1977).
" See Hayden t\'hite, "The Value o£ Narrativity," in t~.J.T.
Mitchell, Qn_N~E.r,,!j;,J.Y..'§!. (Chicago: University o£ Chicago
Press, 1980); Lucaites and Condit, 1985; Walter R. Fisher,
""Narration as a Human Communication Paradigm, I.
G.Q.J!I.J!lYn_~_<;:"!..tj,.Qn...l!9..119.9F-~.:e..Il§. (March 1984), pp. 1-22; Peter
Berger and Th oma s L uckma nn , Ih.'§! __§.Q..<;:j,_"!..L . G.g.!:l§t:.::.Y_ct),.9..!l......o£
B.§!,!liJ;..l!'. (Ne," York: Anchor Books, 1966) .
• Hayden White, 1980, p. 18.
1 0 See, for example, Richard Bauman and Roger Abrahams
(eds. ), :.:Jtl}..9_._Qj:Jl"'§'L..N§.!.9.h..bo .. l"y__..N."!!~_'§!.§_::" (Austin: Uni versi ty
o£ Texas Press, 1981), £or a wide-ranging collection o£
essays about ho," narrative authority is shaped across time
and space.
:l:l. Hayden White, '"Historical Pluralism," g.~A:.t. !£_~.!~.~_In.q!::!..~L:r...Y.
12 (Spring, 1986), p. 487.
12 Studies examining the narrative dimensions of

journalism include a collection o£ essays edited by James

W. Carey (ed.), !1. §"_q..!.!'!.",......!I..Y. i.h§.......§!D.d ...N.§!...rxat.~_y.~:'?. (Beverly
Hills: Sage, 1988); Michael Schudson, "The Politics o£
Narrative Form: The Emergence of News Conventions in Print
and Television," P~. §.g~. :J,.."-§.. 3(4), 1982; Robert Darnton,
"~)riting News and Telling Stories," R.?§'st~:J,..tL"l. (1975); and
Graham Knight and Tony Dean, "Nyth and the Structure o£
New s ," JgY..L'l"!..L .. Q.f......C 9!J1 mY!l...tS.!'!t.:i,_Q.!:l. 32 ( 2), 1982 •
,.;c, The concept is borrowed £rom George Gerbner, "Cultural
Indicator.s: The Third Voice," in G. Gerbner, L. Gross and
W. Mel od y ( ed s. ), G.Q..J!I!!lEllJ.. c;...?_tj,s>..1l§ __I.§..[Link]..9J.9..ill'.....!'!...rl..9 .... 1"l<?sJ"!.1
P<?1.).<;:y.:.......Yn..cL<;>x..§..tA.!1.f!.;Ll}9.......!:.h."'__..N_"'..!'L.... ·:£Y.. Lt.Y:.::.§!J. .....R.'§!..Y...qJ..Y..U . QD·~.. (N e w
York: John Wiley and Sons, 1973). See Chapter Two £or a
discussion o£ ho," i t was generated.
, .... Andy Logan, "JFK: The Stained Glass Image," !'!.J!I..§XJg"!D.
H.§:.::..!J;.:"Eg. . J1."l9!'!.<=..!. ll§'. (August., 1967), p. 6; Frank Donner,
"Conspiracies Unlimited," I.h.§.......!'!.?t~..on. (12/22/79), p. 658.
,.:., Da n Rat her, qu ot ed i n E.Q..Y.L. ....P"!..Y.:'?........:i--'l......N.Q.Y.§.!1). 9_'§!X.. , CBS Ne'"''
Documentary (11/17/88).
, G.> C h a r 1 es Rob e rts , I .llg. . .T..:.::.Yt.!L...!'!.£9..Y.t. . . th§__.'l§_"'. "!§§.,i..,J.:l a tJ..'?..J.:l.. ( New
York, Grosset and Dunlap, 1967), p. 15.
'-'? Steve Bell, K'y.\;1..._..l;y..§..yJ_t.r.L'§!§.!LN..§.~..:'?. [Channel Four Late-
Night News, Philadelphia (11/22/88'J.
,. '" ;rf.K.....J.!.§.."'."!.§..§. :i,[l~..tJ.9..J:l..; .....J,§.._...Li:._. . .H!'!.P. p.§'_l}§'..<:!., NBC New s Doc ume n tar y
(11/22/88).
"'''' f_9.YE......R.!'!y..§......_.:i,I!_....!'!.9..Y_"'. !'l. 9."'X. (11/1 7 / 8 8) •
 109

.0 See Lucaites and Condit, 1985, p. 101.

,U Kath 1 een Hall Jam i eson' s !':. ,[Link].§.':l.9..§... j,IL..§!.!l......!;.±.§StL'?X!A£....A9.§.
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1988) discusses how
news conventions incorporate synecdochal representations
of events.
''','' Tom Wicker, "A Reporter Must Trust His Instinct,"
;;.?_t.y.r:<:l..a'y...g§.y;i,.§..~J. 4 7 ( 1111 164), P • 81.
,"." Tom Pettit, NItG_..li"!..'d§. (11/24/63).
,;0',. Bert Schipp, quoted in John B. Mayo, l'l.]'L±..±..§i..j ,.!1...E:l::[Link].
P..?-.±..±.?¥. (New York: Exposition Press, 1967), p. 142.
,~'" See Bradley Greenberg and Edwin Parker (eds.), Th."!.
!j:"'.!lI.1."'..<:lY:.. A."'§i'!"'§j,.!li'!tj,.2!L~D..(Lih"'_A.lJ!.§:l::J9_,!O!1_..l2.t.!f:.J,i,E ( P a loA I to :
Stanford University Press, 1965), for a thorough
collection of essays on this subject •
..,," l'l£Q.i'!.9S-",-",i..:i,}19. (12/2/63) •
• 7 See Greenberg and Parker, 1965. Also see Elihu Katz and
Dan i e I Da y an, M§<:lJ.9__..!;.Y."'_'!..t s : _QIl....th.'?......!':y&"'...l_"'.Q£§'''''..Qf_N.9.t.....!'l.''!_t!l.9.
Th."'.:l::."'. (New York: Oxford University Press, forthcoming).
"," Tom Wicker, "A Reporter Nust Trust His Instinct," 1964,
p. 81 •
•• More detailed support for this statement can be found
in Chapters Four and Five. An extensive description of the
problems faced by journalists in Dallas is found in Darwin
Payne, "The Press Corps and the Kennedy Administration,"
[Link]'.:l::.':l.?_lj,.¥m_..!1'2.':lQ9:r..§ ..p.h.§ (February, 1970).
3D The only professional photographer to capture Kennedy's
death on film was an AP photographer who was hailed by the
trade press as "the lone pro" an the scene [See J;.QJ..i;Q£ .._?_'lQ
Py};:>.l,.:i,.§l:}",..::. (1217163), p. 10].
"'" William 11anchester, I.!l§._R!'2.i".[Link].. !\' ...P£§.§tQ§ni;. (New York:
Harper and Row, 1967).
~"" Hug h Sid e y , Jgl:m....I.,.... .K§_I2.ll.§.<:l.Y..L_P....§§..~_<:l."'.I2.1;,. ( New Yor k :
Atheneum, 1963), pp. vi-vii.
""" Tom Wicker, ,:[J::.K. . . .?gQ.._6~1. (New York: William Morrm" and
Company, 1968), p. 299. A similar theme was found in
assassination narratives that were compiled as "The
Rep 0 r te r s • St 0 r y ," G..C:C±.t.!.lJ!.QJ."!...:J..9.!1_'.:E..a l.A"'.lJ! ..J~.§.YA§I!!. (W i n te r ,
1964) •
;:1:..(.[, Charles Roberts, ""Eyewitness in Dallas,. II N..§'::£'§.Y.LE2.~15..
(12/5/66), p. 26.
3m Roberts, 1967.
:,'0; Steve Bell, !j:XW......1".Y§.I!!.!jo,g"'.§-"'.....N.<e.I!!.§ (Channel Four Late-
Night News, Philadelphia, 11/22/88).
'::-))";>" Harrison Salisbury,. liThe Editor's View in New YorK .. ·' in
Bradley Greenberg and Edwin Parker, I.h§..X§g':l§g.y'.
A."'-"'.""¥.¥J.':li'!.tJ.9.!L?!.Qg...i;l:}§.... hro.§'£!9..""-'lPyQ:L.J.S. ( Stanford : Stanford
University Press, 1965).
:;;:,s:\ Harya l-Iannes, "The Long Vigil, U TJ)_?_'M. .B..§J?.Q.;r..:t,§t::r..
(12/19/63), p. 16.
 110

3 9 Similar recollections were voiced elsewhere. One

observer mentioned how "in the days immediately following
the assassination~ voices of men like Huntley, Brinkley
and Cronkite became more prominent than those of my own
parents" [John P. Sgarlat, "A Tragedy on TV - and the
Tears of a Crestfallen Nation," 12.!:!.J,.1.!,_de.l-.p.!:!J.S'...P.S'.J,.J.Y .. l'!§l~§.
(11/22/88)]. Again, mention was made not of on-site
reporters but the anchorpersons who monitored their words.
-'1·0 Ed 1..\' inN e wman , J)Di.~~.t!.§.:? a§.§...:ll)a~:k Ol1~;.~_.As ~_._.~~.JJ_~..Q...~g§.9_
(11/22/88) .
•, ,. J oh n Ch an c e 11 0 r, I.!:! e ... t'}§.!?.!i._IY_e._.J".9 s.!:_..,LQ.!ln.. I, .. l).[Link]§.c!Y., NBC
News (1989).
4. Foremost here was a special session of the ASNE
(American Society for Newspaper Editors), which brought
together the heads of 17 top news organizations to discuss
journalistic performance in Dallas [!'I-".~._Y!?:.:::15.....IJ!".§l.§.
(10/9/64), p. 21J.
~I' :.,.: See ~~.L:r..§!..D._ . J3.~J?_9.?;:.:t.: . ;'.__ J3.§p'.Q';':.t::_g_i_ ..:t.b_§L_E;r_~_~_~. 9._§!_D...~ . ~_§__ .G_Q~!!t!.§.§J_QD-.
9.!1...tJ1e.....1i.§.§.S!§!;;.t.!1.?l.t i 9.!1_9.f..E:.:::e..'e..:i,.<:!-".z:!.t.....!<;.§lDI.:!§l.Q.Y. ( Wa sh i n 9 t on , DC :
US Government Printing Office, 1964), pp. 201-8 .
.(.1_-'1_ Richard Van der Karr, "How Dallas TV Stations Covered
Kennedy Shooting," I'Ou£'.13'l.:tJ,.§."'-.9~"\E.t.e..l':..J,..Y. (Autumn, 1965).
<,.,,, ~.l':.9."\.c!.S"\§.t.:i,.!19. (12/2/63), p. 40.
,,'H,:,:' '"Television'" s Fiftieth Anniversary, II P-,§:,91?J. @. Magazine
(Summer 1989), p. 100.
<.7 Barbara Matusow, T.!:!e........!=:Y.e.n!..!19...[Link]"I_'?. (Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 1983), p. 105 •
....o\os~ Gary Paul Gates, A4.._rt;..!. ill..§. (New York: Harper and Ro\.v,
1978), p. 3.
 111

TELLING

ASSASSINATION TALES
 112

CHAPTER FOUR

"COVERING THE BODY" BY TELLING THE ASSASSINATION

"This numbed grief must be made articulate"

- Editorial, Th. "'....B_~£:.:t.."'.:r.. (12/5/63), p.19.

November 21, 1963 was a routine day for the fifty-odd

journalists who travelled with President John F. Kennedy

on a campaign trip to Dallas. They had been assigned to

"cover the body." This assignment held them responsible

for the activities of the President of the United States,

particularly if the unpredictable were to arise. "Covering

the body" gave news organizations one way o£ routinizing

the unexpected ".

On November 22, however, "covering the body·' took on

a more literal connotation: The assassination of John F.

Kennedy threw the boundaries of appropriate journalistic

practice into question. What journalists could and could

not do - or did and did not do in covering the

assassination rattled their shared notions of journalistic

pro£essionalism, and the boundaries by ~lhich their

practices could be labelled professional. In this chapte"

I identify what happened to those boundaries by tracing

the narratives through which journalists recounted their

part in the assassination story. Through journalists'

narratives that were published and circulated at the time

 113

of Kennedy's death, the following pages describe how

journalists relayed their activities of that weekend

through narrative. Through their coverage of the events in

Dallas, they displayed what they considered to be

boundaries of appropriate journalistic practice and

authority.

During the quarter-century since John F. Kennedy was

assassinated, journalists have transformed their accounts

about his death into one long narrative memorializing the

slain President. Journalists# memories e}:tend over what

appeared to be four continuous days of grief and mourning.

They begin with the arrival of the Kennedys in Dallas,

extend through the President's motorcade and death, and

conclude with his state funeral. Stories of this four-day

stretch of events have come to constitute the master

narrative by which the particulars of Kennedy's death have

been told. Through it, journalists have assumed

responsibility for many of the smaller events comprising

the assassination story, regardless of what they

themselves saw, did or heard.

Yet at the time journalists faced tasks that were far

more discrete. Covering the assassination called' £or

behavior that was somewhat "out o:f bounds" of Iormalized

journalistic standards. It constituted what Gaye Tuchman

has called the "what a story" category, the story which

 114

sidesteps routinized expectations p has no steadfast rules

o£ coverage and calls for strategies o£ improvisation and

rede:finition Herbert Gans has similarly discussed the

"gee whiz"' story" the classification that embodies the

residue of other more commonplace types of news stories 3.

The assassination story thus called £or trained instinct

on the part of journalism professionals. In their attempt

to effectively routinize and control its unpredictability,

they approached aspects of the assassination as

independent moments o£ coverage. News organizations

assigned individual journalists to seemingly finite i'mini-

events" within the more generalized assassination story ..

This presented a quandary, of sorts. For while

journalists did not possess the kind of standardized

guidance they needed to cover the story, what journalists

did, or said they did, had much to do with how they viewed

themselves as professionals. Embedded within their

activities, and narrative reconstructions about those

activities,. were explicit notions about professionalism p

journalistic practice and the media technologies that

assisted and hindered them in formulating authorized

stories about the assassination. The fact that they did so

in circumstances that offered few guidelines for covering

news other than an emphasis on instinct and improvisation

 115

has made an examination o£ their authority all the more

critical.

In this chapter, I consider journalists~ accounts of

covering the assassination at the time of Kennedy's death.

I trace the master narrative of the assassination~ by

£ocusing on journalists' original accounts of covering

Kennedy's shooting~ Johnson's swearing-in, the £ollow-up

to the shooting and the mourning of the President. Through

notions of professionalism, authority and journalistic

practice that were embedded in these accounts, r consider

covering the assassination story was an act of

journalistic failure. Yet its transformation into a story

of professional triumph and its invocation as a

cornerstone by which the craft of journalistic authority

would be realized - displays the workings of rhetorical

legitimation.

By most existing models of journalistic practice, the

assassination of John F. Kennedy constitutes one event

that has rattled formalized notions about what it means to

be a profeSSional journalist. The assassination story

moved from the shooting of the President to the shooting

of his presumed assassin, £rom the improvisory swearing-in

of a new President to the ceremonial burial o£ an old one,

with a rapidity that stunned most journalists seeking to

 116

inscribe its chronology .. Reporters "covering the body~"

the beat that assigned journalists to the President's

activities should the unpredictable arise, faced difficult

and unanticipated circumstances~

Although they provided prompt and comprehensive

coverage~ journalists did not see the event, sometimes did

not hear the event, incorporated hearsay, rumor and faulty

information into their chronicles, and failed to access

recognizable and authoritative sources~ Journalistic

methods upon which most reporters had come to rely - such

as eyewitness status, access to sources or fact

verification - proved unhelpful and rendered an incomplete

version of the story. The speed of information

transmission outpaced their ability to gather it, and

their inability to keep up was apparent to the largest

viewing audience in media history~

When Kennedy was assassinated, neWB editors quickly

labelled the event "the biggest story of their lifetime"

.,. Within 24 hours more than 300 media representatives

arrived in Dallas ,~; Because of the story's numerous

unpredictable and potentially unmanageable angles,

assignments did not always match anticipated event.. It

remained a "breaking story" throughout: The .. transfer" of

Lee Harvey Oswald became coverage o£ his murder~ Covering

the succession story became an eyewitnessing of LBJ's

 117

inauguration amidst the cramped conditions aboard Air

Force One. Those assigned to write the follow-up on

Kennedy's shooting wrote instead of the killing of Officer

Tippit or confused medical briefings about the President's

body. Although the state funeral provided one £orum in

which the story's different threads were temporarily

brought together, journalists approached the larger

assassination story through stages manageable to them.

This meant that they concentrated on independent and often

isolated moments o£ coverage that were later brought

together in larger narrativess Those moments offered

journalists individual but separate loci on which to

reconsider p recall and rethink the haws and whys of

journalistic practice.

IIJhl1e intended here as an analytical tool, reducing

the assassination story into discrete moments of coverage

in effect reflected the task-orientation of journalists

covering the story. Journalists recounted concentrating on

the immediate tasks to which they had been assigned. Their

accounts focused on four moments o£ coverage: the shooting

of Kennedy; the hospital; the swearing-in of Lyndon

John:son; the follow-up to Kennedy'. shooting, including

the murder of' Lee Harvey Oswald; and Kennedy's funeral ..

 118

The following pages summarize how journalists recounted

those moments at the time of the assassination story.

Despite the presence o:f :fi:fty-odd tvashington

correspondents in the President's entourage, at the moment

o£ Kennedy's assassination most were corralled inside two

press buses taking them to downtown Dallas. As a result,

covering the assassination began in one reporter's view

"'4hen the central fact of it was over'· S By the time the

£ew reporters riding in press photo cars had broken loose

"7 , the President's car had already sped o:f:f to Parkland

Haspi tal. Consequently, reporting on the assassination was

reconstructive and derivative £rom the beginning. Most

reporters simply missed the initial event.

Typical reports o:f the shooting, taken respectively

f'rom radio, television and the print media, went as

It appears as though something has happened in

the motorcade route. Something, I repeat, has
happened in the motorcade route. Parkland
Hospital - there has been a shooting. Parkland
Hospital has been advised to stand by :for a
severe gunshot wound. The o:f:ficial party, as I
can see itp turning around, going to the
emergency room at Parkland Hospital -.

At about 12:32, the motorcade turns a corner

into a parkway_ The crowds are thinner ... three
shots are heard, like toy explosions. (NBC
cameraman Dave) Weigman jumps from his car,
running toward the President with his camera
running. People scream, lie down grabbing their
 119

children. I leave the motorcade and run after

police, who appear to be chasing somebody. The
motorcade moves on fast 9

As our press bus eased at motorcade speed down

an incline toward an underpass~ there was a
little confusion in the sparse crowds that at
that point had been standing at the curb to see
the President of the United States pass. As we
came out of the underpass~ I saw a motorcycle
policeman drive over the curb, across an open
area, a £ew £eet up a railroad bank, dismount,
and start scrambling up the bank 1 0

The perspective was partial; no account confirmed that the

President had been hit. Accounts began through the

uncertain perspective of the bystander and reflected

innuendo, rumour and half-truth. It took time before

journalists definitively knew 'nhat had happened.

Afterwards some reporters maintained that they "were not

8v.n=tre that anything serious had occurred until they

reached the Nerchandise Nart two or three minutes later"

:1. :1.

For journalists invested in upholding their status as

pre£erred observers o£ the event, this posed problems~ The

assignment o:f "covering the body" gave them what were

essentially generous boundaries - of proximity and access

in which to play out their authoritative presence in the

story. The £act that they [Link] the event in e££ect

constituted a blow to their professionalism. Because news

organizations hungered £or a [Link] stream o£

 120

in£ormation~ the disjunctions £elt by reporters sent to

"cover the body" \-·}ere magnified.

When Kennedy was shot, _the Associated Press~ Jack

Bell was in the pool car in the Presidential motorcade.

pre£acing i t with the observation that he had "witnessed

the shooting £rom the £ourth the procession :1. l",~

The £easibility o£ that £eat was doubt£ul. a point borne

out when Bell himsel£ authorized the event through what he

had h.§'..5!L9... not what be had § ..~§,_11:

There was a loud bang as though a giant

£irecracker had exploded in the caverns between
the tall buildings we were just leaving behind
us. In quick succession there were two other
loud reports. The ominous sounds o£ these
dismissed £rom the minds o£ us riding in the
reporters' pool car the £leeting idea that some
Texan was adding a bit o£ noise to the cheering
welcome ... The man in front of me screamed, "My
God, they're shooting at the President" ,.~,'

As Bell looked back at the building where he thought the

shots had come, he said he "saw no signi£icant signs o£

activity" 14* His actions suggested that he also did not

believe what he did see: When the pool car pulled up at

Parkland Hospital, he jumped out and looked in the back

seat of the Presidential limousine:

For an instant I stopped and stared into the

back seat. There? £ace down, stretched out at
£ull length, lay the President, motionless. His
natty business suit seemed hardly rumpled. But
there was blood on the £loor. "Is he dead?" I
asked a Secret Serv ice man. I don ~ t l~not-J , he II II

said, "but I don~t -think so" :I.~.'.'j

 121

Even faced with first-hand evidence of activity that other

reporters contended had blown hal£ o£ the President's head

away, Bell needed confirmation.

Ironically, the AP's eyewitness account for the

assassination came from a staff photographer.

Photographing the motorcade, James Altgens telephoned his

Dallas editor with the news that Kennedy had been shot. "I

saw it,." he said. IIThere was blood on his face~ Mrs.

Kennedy jumped up and grabbed him and cried 'oh no!' The

motorcade raced onto the :freeway" ',<ii, The AP ran that

account in £ull. Altgens' photograph o£ a Secret Service

agent climbing over the back of Kennedy's 1 imousin8 'VJas

transmitted 25 minutes after the shooting :I. '7

TvJO ~4eeks

later,

entitled "Lone 'Pro' on Scene When JFK \')as Shot". Tracing

his career as a professional photographer, the article

hailed the fact that Altgen's photographs remained

exclusives "for 24 hours - until some amateur film turned

up" ~. f~

During the shooting, UPI's Merriman Smith was seated

in the saffle pool car as Bell. Like Bell, he did not see

the event but heard the shots. Over the pool car's

radiophone, he reported that "three shots were fired at

President Kennedyls motorcade in downtown Dallas" :1. 'i:'~

Seeing but not knowing, hearing but not seeing p neither

 122

seeing nor hearing: Such were the Ioundations from which

journalists generated authorized accounts o£ the event. As

William Manchester later said of Smith:

Smith was not as astute a reporter as he seemed.

Despite extensive experience with weapons, he
had thought the sounds in the plaza were three
shots from an automatic weapon, and in a
subsequent message he identified them as bursts.
But his speed was remarkable eo.

Initial reports of the assassination, '''hile rapidly

transmitted, thus displayed the authority of partial

J,no,.,ledge.

This was exacerbated by the fact that the machinery

of government information was virtually paralyzed. Unlike

the death of Roosevelt, \rJhich was "announced by a

simultaneous phone call to three wire services from the

White House" ;t-i: :I.

, official channels of information relay

were blacked, confused or simply nowhere to be found.

Journalists had three choices: to exclude problematic

in£armation, to include it or to qualify its inclusion by

admitting that it had not been verified. As Wilbur Schramm

later said,. reporters on ·the Dallas story were "up against

one of the classical problems of journalism: What

constitutes evidence? tJhen does a report have enough

support to justify passing i t along?" Reporters lacked

the time,. source£!.. or circumstances in to

satis£actorily resolve such issues~

 123

Information about the shooting was strung together in

bits and pieces. Reporters needed to £irst establish the

presence of shots, then the fact that the shots had

wounded the President, the possibility that the wound was

fatal, the rumors of his death, and finally the fact that

had died. ~!i th each step in that sequence p the

certainty among journalists about what had happened grew.

But each step also generated new questions, uncertainties

and inaccuracies~ Accomplishing professional goals of

coverage in an accurate, £act-based and veri£iable fashion

was virtually impossible.

The main thrust of coverage was to inform the public

quickly. Approximately 61 minutes elapsed

journalists worked their way down the initial story's

sequence. First reports reached the wires a meager £our

minutes after the shots were fired 23. Six minutes later,

at 12.40 p.m •• \')alter Cronkite broke into CBS' "As the

~~orld Turns"' to announce- in UPI" S I.<Jords that Olin

Dallas Texas, three shots were fired at President

Kennedy's motorcade. The first reports say that the

was seriously vJounded" Radio brought

intermittent and fragmented updates~ mostly reworded wire-

service accounts:

We interrupt this program to bring you a

special bulletin from ABC Radio. Three shots
were fired at President Kennedy's motorcade
today in downtown Dallas, Texas ... State and
 124

local police have sealed o££ the area at Hyannis

Port, where the Kennedys live. No one permitted
to get near that area a~.

Before Kennedy was officially pronounced dead~ over ha1:£

of the nation had heard news of the assassination attempt

This does not suggest that many journalists knew more

than their dispatches revealed. As William ItIanchester

later recounted, during that first hour

the ratio between the public and its true

informants was roughly 38,000,000:1. The
Cronkites and Huntleys were as out of touch as
their demoralized listeners; the best they could
do was pasa along details 2?

Filmed footage sho¥led journalists huddling in groups

outside Parkland Hospital, clutching notepads and pencils.

Many listened to radio, whose reporters, relatively

unencumbered by equipment, transmitted the paraphrased

accounts OI wire services. Television followed suit.

the story moved on, local ne¥ls staffers helped national

organizations flesh out

reporter Tom Wicker maintained that "nobody thought about

an exclusive; it didn~t seem important'" 2':''''. Cooperation,

as a standard o£ action, ¥las "greater than it ever had

been in the industry's history" Although tales of

rivalry and competition did exist in a fashion typical of

everyday journalistic practice, it was telling how much

journalists' retelling Or the story of their cO . .lerage

 125

emphasized the notion of cooperation. This in itself

suggested the ritual aspects of telling the assassination

and hCH.) it \l,.Jas invoked by journalists to establish

community and authority.

An impromptu press conference at Parkland Hospital

gave journalists their first marker of institutionalized

journalism, less than an hour a£ter the President was shot

3~ Later cited as one of the major sources of confusion

over the exact nature. or Kennedy's head wound, the

conference, held by acting press secretary Malcolm

Kilduff, confirmed that the President was dead. The

medical briefing that followed was later called "the most

tempestuous hour in the history of American journalism":

The scene was bedlam. Several correspondents

were hysterical. A question would be asked, and
the doctor would be halfway through his answer
when another reporter broke in with an entirely
different questiong Misquotations were
inevitable •. ~Medical briefings were supposed to
quash misunderstandings. The one at Parkland did
exactly the opposite 32.

When reporters asked Dr. Malcolm Perry i£ it was

possible that one bullet could have struck the President

from the front, the doctor replied affirmatively.

reporter Hugh Sidey, realizing the implicat.iol1S, cr.i..ed,

IIDoctor p do you realize what you're doing? You're

con£using us." But reporters quickly transmitted hie.

 126

confusing answer to the public, and the next morning

Americans across the country were already ··convinced that

a ri£leman had £ired £rom the top of" the underpass"

This in turn generated one o£ the major misreadings of the

nature of Kennedy's head wound.

Soon a£ter, transport o£ the Presidential co££in on

its way £rom the hospital to Air Force One gave som.e

journalists what would be their closest and most

authori ts·ti ve sightings o£ the President. In the l'L<e'.Io!....Y9..E.l>.

Tom Wicker's account of the procession around the

bronze coffin was laced with the intricate detail o£

[Link] tnessing:

Mrs. Kennedy walked beside (the co££in). Her

£ace was sorrow£ul. She looked steadily at the
£loor. She still wore the raspberry-colored suit
in which she had greeted welcoming crowds in
Fort Worth and Dallas. But she had taken o££ the
matching pillbox hat she wore earlier in the
day, and her dark hair was windblown and tangled

His account £ocused solely on the grie£ o£ the widow. Ten

days later, his account of the same event was more

distanced and appeared to be less stunned:

They brought the body out in a bronze co££in. A

number of White House sta££ people - stunned,
silent, stumbling along as i£ dazed walked
with it. Mrs. Kennedy walked by the cof£in. her
hand on it, her head down. her hat gone, her
dress and .tockings spattered. She got into the
hearse with the co££in. The sta£f men crowded
into cars and £ollowed 3B
 127

In the second account p Wicker contextualized Jacqueline

Kennedy#s actions alongside those of the White House staff

people}, suggesting a metaphoric step backward to include

them in the picture. Ten days later, the reporter was

sufficiently distanced from her grief to contextualize her

activities around the casket within a larger discourse

about the continuity o£ [Link] and [Link]

machinery.

The removal of Kennedy's casket replayed

extensively by the media. Reporters recounted lool<s of

dazed shoc1-\ on the faces of staffers and family.

Photographic images of Jacqueline Kennedyp her dress

spattered with blood, holding onto the side of the coffin,

were one o£ the first filmed shots provided by nevJB

photographers. The casket's removal \[Link] alsop in Tom

Wicker's words, ··just about the only incident that I got

wi th my O\;l)n eyes that en'tire afternoon"

The events at Parkland Hospital slightly offset the

jarring conxusion of the first hour that

Kennedy's shooting~ There was a temporary overstatement of

formalized journalistic practices p with the medical

briefing reinstating semblances of the channels through

which reporters usually obtained their in:formatiol1.D

Transport o£ the President's coffin upheld the eyewitness

status of those journalists who witnessed it. Journalists~

 128

pree,ence at Parkland Hospital provided detai Ie, I;Jhich

helped journalists authorize themselves as spokepeople for

the story: For that reason details from the hospital

stories of journalists milling about outside, the medical

briefing, the transport of the body - filled audio, prose,

photographic and filmed assassination accounts a This was

not because the hospital constituted a central part of the

larger assassination narrative. because it.

signalled a return to order until more authorized filmed

and photographic records of the shooting would become

available. Coverage OI journalists" hospital presence

o:f:fered journalists. a viable way to uphold their

professionalism, and therefore authorize their coverage o:f

the story_ Emphasizing this particular moment of coverage

helped them lend credence to their presence within the

larger assassination narrative.

Following the shooting, coverage of the assassination

branched in three separate directions 37 a In one arena o£

coverage? journalists were assigned to what William

~lanchester later suggested was the Uother story II - Lyndon

J':;)hnson~ s succession as President 38. As the co£:fin was

brought out, a group of reporters "made (their) way to the

[Link] the driver said his instructions were to take

the body to the airport u .:Y:;'). Conf"used communiques between

 129

Kennedy~s staff, Attorney-General Robert Kennedy in

v-)ash i ngton, and the President-elect generated a hasty

decision to inaugurate Johnson at the airport before Air

Force One was airborne. To facilitate an unproblematic

succession}' Johnson agreed far reporters to be present as

eye,,,,i tnesses

This made the swearing-in one of the £ew times during

the assassination story that journalist.s took on

officially-recognized role.e, of eyew i [Link] .. Three

journalists agreed to serve as the press pool~ Said UPI's

Merriman Smith:

Jiggs Fauver of the White House transportation

o££ice grabbed me and said Kildu££ wanted a pool
of three men immediately to fly back to
Washington on Airfares One, the Presidential
Aircraft... Downstairs I ran and into the
driveway, only to discover that Kilduff had just
pulled out in our telephone car. Charles Roberts
(of ~Li§:.~!'§'~.:d~~!i), Sid Davis (0£ tl)estinghouse
Broadcasting) and I implored a police office to
take us to the airport in his squad car 41

Davis went aboard the plane to cover the swearing-in but

did not return to Washington 42. He instead supplied pool

coverage o£ the event to a busload o£ reporters that

arrived as the plane took off. Said ane reporter:

I shall not soon forget the picture in my mind,

that man (Davis) standing on the trunk of a
white car. his figure etched against the blue?
blue Texas sky, all of us massed around him at
his knees as he told us of what had happened in
that crowded compartment in Air Force One 4 3
 130

Thus was chronicled JohnBon~s s\-Jearing-in ~ Special

importance was accorded the role o£ photographers, I:Jho

produced the o££icial photograph o£ the event.

"one of our

historic photographs" ..tj •

j
..t: • •

But. the uncertainty and hasty arrangements

surrounding 30hnson 1 s swearing-in produced coverage that

was spotty and uneven. The !{§."'_.. 'l-'?J;:JS.....IJJJ1_E'..:"'.. [Link] that

'-no accurate listing of those present could be obtained"

The 34 words which made Johnson President were

recounted verbatim, with little attempts at enclosing them

within larger narratives. Accounts, scripted lil<e

descriptions o£ photographic details, sti£fly recorded who

stood next to whom and what color clothes each person

wore~ The coverage, while authenticated as eyewitness

reporting, was seen as sti££ and uninspired prose.

The £act that reporters eye"i tnessed the s~,earing- in

was nonetheless important £or their notions o£

pro£essional credibility. It gave them a pro£[Link]

presence within the larger assassination story 9 and that

presence was highly regarded by other members of the press

corps~ Charles Roberts was interviewed on the [Link]-

Brinkley Report the night of the assassination about his

experiences in eyewitneasing the swearing-in 46. Roberts

also used his attendance at the swearing-in and the plane-

 131

ride home to justify his writing of a 1967 book called I!1§.

fA much larger group of journalists set to work

unravelling the assassination's threads. Their £ollOvJ-Up

work began Friday night, when Dallas police attempted to

hold a midnight photo opportunity with Kennedy's accused

killer, Lee Harvey Ost,vsld ~ At the tim.e, over 100 persons

filled the halls of the police station, whose conditions

I;)ere "not too much unlike Grand Central Station at rush

hourI! _8 Dallas was ill-equipped to handle the growing

in£lux of reporters, and the police's attempts that night

to address mounting pressure :for information proved to be

a :fiasco:

Cameramen stood on the tables to take pictures

and others pushed forward to get olose-
up •... After Oswald had been in the room only a
few minutes, Chief Curry intervened and directed
that Oswald be taken back to jail because, he
testi£ied~ the 'newsmen tried to overrun him'

The police planned to transfer Oswald from the city

to the county jail the next morning. Armed with details of

the trans£er, the press corps arrived in groups. ABC" 13

camera person wae one o£ the £ew told to relocate at the

country jail so as to await Oswald's arrival there ~O~ By

10:00 a.m~, an estimated 50 journalists were in attendance

in the basement o£ the city jail, including still

 132

pho·tographers~ television camera-people and reporters from

all media ~''::j:1. Conditions £01." coverage were among the best

available to journalists during the larger assassination

story, which in itself suggested the degree to which

journalistic authority was negotiated with other cultural

and professional groups.

One detective relayed the following account of the

police attempt to transfer Oswald:

Almost the whole line of people pushed forward

when Oswald started to leave the jail o££ice,
the door, the hall - all the newsmen were poking
their sound mikes across to him and asking
questions, and they were everyone sticking their
£lashbulbs up and around and over him and in his
:f ace :'!.~iE:.

The "near-blinding television and motion pictLlre lights

which were allowed to shine upon the escort party

increased the difficulty of observing unusual movements in

the basement"" 53 This I,A}ould later generate discussions

about whether or not journalists had facilitated Oswald's

death. As NBC's Tom Pettit recalled ane year hence:

In that throng it was di££icult £or any reporter

to Bort out who was who. But £or the television
reporters the problem was compounded by the need
£or simultaneous transmission. What was recorded
by microphones and cameras (either film or live)
would go on the air without much editing. What
transpired in the hallway was broadcast without
much opportunity for evaluation. And the
television reporter could not move about freely,
since his own movement was limited by the length
o£ his microphone cable 5 4
 133

What happened after that became. in the eyes of certain

observers, in television Jack Ruby

stepped out £rom the group of reporters, dre~N a gun and

pulled the trigger. Oswald slumped to the floor.

Journalists recorded the event in sound; in prose, in

still photographs, and transmitted it live on television.

Written accounts detailed the incredibility of Oswald

having been shot in view of the television camerae

Still photographs of the homicide pushed editors at the

p_"tt.~.9-"' __ . [Link].ing__l:l_~Y'.§. into a second edition: The photograph

on its front page displayed Ruby clearly pointing a gun at

Oswald.

later win a Pulitzer Prize for picture of Os,,,ald

crumpling under the bullet1e impact ~7. One trade article,

entitled II Pictures of Assassination Fall t.o Amateurs on

Street II" \..;ent as :follows:

the actual shooting down of the President was

caught mainly through out-of-focus pictures
taken by non-pro£essional photographers~ But the
actual shooting of his accused assailant was
recorded in £ull view o£ press photographers
with their cameras trained right on him and this
produced pictures which may ranlt with the
greatest news shots o£ all time ~e

The article offset the largely amateur photographic

recording of Kennedy's shooting- its emphasis on

pictures that were "out o:f focus" and photographer,s "'ho

unon-pro£essianal"" [Link] pro£essional

photographic recording o£ Oswald's murder. Photographic

 134

coverage of the second event upheld the professionalism of

news photographers which, other than Altgens' photograph

o:f the President slumping in the car or the o:f:ficial

photograph o£ LBJ's inaugurationr had until that point

been a questionable dimension of recording the atory~ The

:fact that most trade publications juxtaposed coverage o£

one event !",ith the other suggested the problematics

presented by their earlier per£ormanceA

[Link]~:.9,§:~~ noted in a moment of professional [Link],

.. i:f President Kennedy's death 'las left for the amateur

photographers to record, the situation reversed itsel£ on

Sunday ~ November 24" ~'.'.';.::~.

Radio reporters called out the news o:f Oswald"s

with Radio Press International broadcasting

sound of the shot to its subscribers around the world so.

Ike Pappas was then a reporter for WNEW Radio in New Yorl~:

My job on that day was to get an interview with

this guy, when nobody else was going to get an
interview~ And I was determined to do that . . . I
went £orward with my microphone and I said p this
is the last time you can talk to Lee Harvey
Oswald. ask that question again, and I said "'00
you have any·thing to say in your de£ense?" .]us·t
as I said "de£ense", I noted aut of' the carner
of my eye p this black streak went right across
my £ront and leaned in and, pop, there was an
explosion. And I :felt the impact o:f the air :from
the explosion o£ the gun on my body . . . And then
I said to mysel£~ i£ you never say anything ever
again into a microphone, you must say it now~
This is history. And I heard people shouting in
back of me "he" s been shot," ~ So I [Link] the only
thing which I could say, which was the story:
 135

"Osv,~ald has been shot. A shot rang out~ Os",~ald

bas been shot.. (i,:,:t ~

Despite Pappas' on-the-spot presence, he did not himself

put together the information that Oswald had been shot~

His relay of the incident was thus in some sense derived

from the accounts of reporters around him.

But the story a£ OswBld~s murder belonged mainly to

television:

For the first time in the history o£ television,

a real-life homicide was carried nationally on
live television when millions of NBC-TV viewers
saw the November 24 fatal shooting in Dallas of
the man accused of assassinating JFK two days
ear 1 i er (,=;',:l,: ..

The story played live on NBC. CBS recorded the event on a

local camera. Although the network's New York headquarters

were not £eaturing that camera on live feed] they were

able to replay immediate coverage from a videotape monitor

ABC~ whose camaraperson had moved to the county jail.

had to compensate with non-£ilm accounts of the story

More than perhaps other moments o£ coverage within

the assassination storYr the presence o£ journalists was

made an integral part of Oswald's murder. A caption under

the photograph of O",",ald sinking to the floor read "Dallas

detectives struggle with Ruby as newsmen and others watch"

Reporters recounted the cries of NBC correspondent Tom

Pettit and ather reporters on the scene. Replays of Pettit

shouting "He'" s been shot r he'" s been shot, Lee OS!:Jald .has,
 135

been ahot!1I constituted one way to legi timate t,he

journalist as eyevJi tness. It also referenced the

iDst.i tutional presence o£ the news organization to which

he belonged ..

issued

one week after the assassination, carried the following

description of Oswald's murder:

Oswald, flanked by detectives r stepped onto a

garage ramp in the basement of the Dallas city
jail and was taken toward an armored truck that
was to take him to the county jail. Suddenly~
out of the lower right hand corner of the TV
screen, came the back of a man. A shot rang out p
and Oswald gasped as he started to fall.
clutching his side SS~

A telling £eature about this narrative rested in its

second sentence, which was repeated verbatim in numerous

prose accounts by jouurnalist.s: ··Suddenly 1 out o:f the

lower right hand corner of the TV screen, came the back of

a man .... The juxtaposition of reality and televised image~

by which Oswald's l~iller was seen coming out of the

[Link] screen,. rather than a corner of the basement,

paid the ultimate compliment to television*s coverage of

the event. In the case of Oswald~s death, television was

featured as of£ering a reality that seemed momentarily

preferable to the real-life situation on which it I"as

based.

Coverage of Oswald's murder thus somewhat resolved

the uncertain eyewitness status of reporters that had

 137

characterized their coverage of Kennedy#s shooting. The

adjunct technologies used by journalists authenticated

them as eyewitnesses through various replays o£ the

incident~ The event, now camera-witnessed, emphasized

[Link]~ presence,. [Link] that of

photographers and television journalists, and brought i t

into assassination chronicles. Reporters would replay the

across media with the assistance o£ tapes,

recordings and photographs, their reactions becoming

embedded through technology in the story's retellinge

Still another arena of coverage took shape in

Washington. From Saturday onwards, the media began to

attend to the grot,.}ing processions of" mourners ~

that Kennedy·s body would lie in state in the Capitol

Rotunda before the funeral o£fered journ-31ists a

continuous stage of activities connected 'Hi th [Link]

assassination storY4 Decisions to display those activities

reflected far-reaching normative and organizational

responses to the assassination story.

Newspapers cancelled columns of advertisements in

order to mak'2 room for e}ttra copy (,.",7'" P.:3.E.§'. 9..~. magazine held

up distribution of" an issue that £eatured an article about

Jackie Kennedy in the White House Ga~ Networks cancelled

commercials, and substituted scheduled programming with

 138

special coverage Haking the Kennedy assassination

their only story through Monday evening, television

cameras focused non-stop on groups o£ citizens viewing the

[Link] coffin. NBC broadcast continuously for 42

hours "70.. The long and continuous coverage provided a

glimpse of "Jhat many observers called the best of

televi~,ionp it .. [Link] the viewer to the

scenes a£ news" 7:1. Coverage culminated in Kennedy's

funeral on Honday, which by Nielson estimates constituted

the heaviest day of television viewing within the

assassination [Link]

Central to all moments of coverage within the

assassination story was the [Link].t" .e. role of

consolation and reassurance. Covering the assassination

turned journalists e££ectors o£ uni£ication and

[Link]~ The "'individual [Link],is~ [Link] laying o:f

doubts to rest and the reinforcement of American norms"

were more the rule than the exception 73~ Communication

channels "'reassured people that the :functions of

government were being carried on smoothlyp that there was

no conspiracy and that there was no further threat"· 7~

Said TV broadcaster Edwin Newman~ the night of the

assassination:

~<}eshall hear much in the next £eW' days about_

the need ·to bind up the Illounds o:f the natlol1 y
and about the need :for all [Link] i cans to stand
together .. (Me may treat [Link],e v·,'ords as empty
 139

slogans or as real needs to be genuinely met.

Whatever we do, that can be no guarantee that
what happened today will not happen again. But
what is within our power, we should do. And it
is within our power to be more serious about our
public life on,

James Reston~s Washington column the day after the

assassination was perhaps first to set aut the parameters

of journalistic consolation in print~~ Entitled

America tveepsHp ·[Link] column began as £01100:,.]s:

America wept tonight, not alone for its dead

young President, but £or itsel£. The grief was
general, for somehow the worst in the nation had
prevailed over the best .•. There 10 however
consolation in the fact that while he was not
given time to finish anything or even to realize
his own potentialities, he has not left the
nation in a state of crisis or danger 7 6 .

Celebrated by other journalists as IImagnificent~~oits

content better than Reston.P s column \.v8S

eventually regarded as a landmark piece o£ assassination

coverage 7"7. ,Other nel,,;e, [Link] post tioned [Link] IfJords

of journalists in prominent places. One Colorado newspaper

relocate.d the column of Walter Lippmann to the lead spot.

on the £ront page and ran his reaction alongside details

of the assassination 79.

The consoling role of journalists reached new heights

with their coverage of the mourning and the funeral~ Media

presentations were saturated with messages of stability,

unity and continuity_ Mourning Kennedy was treated liJ<e

the grieving o£ a personal friend. Political questions,

 140

such as the possibility of disruption or threat implicit

in the fact of the assassination. were thrust aside, even

[Link] 1 Y ~ The mood was one of continuity rather than

disruption.

The sounds of mourning resounded long after the event

concluded at Arlington National Cemetery. The day after

the tattoo of muffled drum., the hoof beat. of

the horseB, the measured cadence o£ the honor
guards, a tolling of a distant bell, and the
sound of bands as they played marches and hymns

Sounds were broadcast with an immediacy that brought

listeners into close contact with the event The

silence of journalists who catered to them reinforced

their supportive role.

But the poignancy o£ the weekend belonged overall to

television .. It \¥8.S ironic that television's triumph

emerged £rom the £act that "[Link] voices of the

I,)ere silent"" .:'i:\j.

the day's history is written, the record of television as

a medium t.>Jill constitute a chapter ox honor"

magazine labelled [Link]~s continuous

coverage mature, digni£ied, e~pert and pro£essional

"Touches of pure television", in addition to the murder of

OSI"Jald 1 included Jackie Kennedy kneeling in the rot,unda

\'J i t.h Caroline to kiss the £189 on the co££in, John ....Try
 141

saluting the caisson outside St~ Mathews cathedral~ [Link]

tovlering de Gaulle beside the tiny £raJTtE; 0:£

Haile Selassie, and the riderless horse 84. In If1any of

those moments, the "good [Link] of television asserted

i t,$J?l£ as the cameras veered a~,}ay t.o ensure pr [Link]··; in

[Link], the cameras [Link] an·[Link] 'vJhat the

audiences wanted to see 85

Thus the ability of journalists to tell the story of

the assassination of John F. Kennedy was realized through

a number of discrete moments a£ coverage. Some o:f t.heSi2

moment.s - such as the £uneral or the capture of Lee Harvey

[Link] constituted pro£essional t r i mnphs. Others

notably the shooting o£ President Kennedy - were £raught

with conduct that shadowed professional standards9 In the

[Link] case, formalized notions of journalistic practice

were rattled in £avor of journalists l

ability to respond

inst,:'lntl y to une){pected circumstances: The lac]t of access

to sources produced an overemphasis on activities at the

hospi t.31 fr even though journalists' decorum at the hospital

press conference helped generate one of the most contested

reading!:::, o£ Kennedy1e. head Coverage of the

swearing-in was spotty, uneven and stilted, and was hailed

for its p:hotogr~:phic record a£ the event by

photojournalists rather than in prose~ The

[Link] o£ Oswald posed serious questions about the

intrusive nature o£ journalistic practice.

This suggests that journalists' ability to present

cO"<le ra 9 8 of the assassination as a story o£ pro£essional

·triumph support,ed by journalists~ activities on

the 2,cene ~ It waB, however, embedded in the narratives by

[Link] reconst~ructed their act~.[Link] ties .. In

[Link] their coverage p journalists thereby eml?:rged as

[Link]~ Rhetorical legitimation was invoked as an

antidote to what was basically a situation of journalistic

£ailure.

Already by the end of the assassination i;.Jeekend I'

journalists had begun to refine the story in the direction

of a larger narrative~ CBS~ Charles Collingwood gave the

brushed-up scenario of the Kennedy shor.:J·ting

Monday evening. By then. II) i ·th a still.

[Link] of" [Link] incident.:

This was the scene in the big open Lincoln a

split second a£ter that shot. The President is
slumping to his le£t. Mrs. Kennedy, half rising,
seems to stretch out an encircling arm. GO . .lernor N

Connally, in the seat ahead of the [Link],.f is

half-turned toward the President. He' E. ei ..!cher
been hit himself or is about to be~ this
moment., noone knew how seriously the Pro!:=.[Link]
had been wounded. But from this
in Dallas moved with dizzying speed BG.

Collingwood's account differed considerably from the wire

St--:.<rviC'2 television correspondents had

delivered verb·stirn jUf:.t four days earlier. In the [Link]

 143

version, the photograph of the shooting provided the focal

point of Collingwood's story. His familiarity its

details hid the fact that he had not eyewitnessed the

e~lent'5 The [Link] le9Jtimated him as an .

eyewl~ness
~

i£ not o£ the event, then o£ its record~ In this way, the

reconstructive work bolstered his partial authority £c~r

the event. It also embedded the media's role in telling

the story within the event's retelling.

said on the evening of November 25, II in thig day o£

t,e1evision and r,adio" the clOrd spread quicl-::ly. in

offices and homes came to a standstill, a.s:, people sat

transfixed by television and radio £',[Link] " 1;,~--7

point that not many accounts of the assassination left

out. ~

It. is therefore no surprise that what journalist,s

[,.aid ·they did in covering the assassination story o£ten

did not match their original activities. The £act that

many problems of coverage out through

long \;,Jeekend- with? £or example, a leck o£ eyewitness

status resolved at both the £uneral and at

murd,2.:t-· ; a need to access high-ran]~ing sources resolved by

the eyewitness accounts of bystanders about Kennedy's

de-at.h; the pressure to verify facts resolved as the more

[Link] facts of Kennedy's death or LBJ's swearing-in were

con:f i. rmed; and disjunctions about the pace and unevenness

 144

of in£ormation relay neutralized as events gave way to

tbe £[Link], ,<.)here 1 i [Link] information-gathering

neC2'SBary - all suggest that within the larger context o£

the assassination weekend, the individua.l

cr'''3racterized m.o:ments (:if coverage h~ere recast at:!..

incidental parts of a larger drama~

This suggests that already by Monday many journalists

had begun to retell the event through the perspective o£

authorized chrarliclers, their accounts substituting the

[Link] words o£ bystanders with more certain authorized

ob.s(?1"[Link] ~ bystanders~ eyewitness accounts,

amateur photographs, preliminary r,?port~, o£fe1."ed by t lv;;

police and medical establ i.~,hnl,ents p and 1.3t-er :fi lmed

chroniclesi' journalists began to counter

their problematic authority for the event through their

Because t,heir [Link] conte.~~:t:-ua 1 iZ i2d

diE,crete moment.s of coveragr;:~ on8 COherl;:3nt

[Link] "'-Ie:l they blurred v-lhat~ IrJas and not.

IIpro£es~,ional u about coverage,. !,vhat con.c:;t.i tute.d

"prof'[Link] U
would emerge not £rom singular events li)~e

the Kennedy shooting but from the larger narr,7{,':.i'l8 [Link]

INhic.h they 1,>}'2re eventually recast. This made journalists

into authoritative spokespeople for the story in its

not just for the discrete moments o£ coverage

they personally saw and heard p or in the worst a£ cases,

 145

did not see and did not hear. More important? their

retellings began to reveal characteristics of the larger

discourses into which stories o£ the assassination would

eventually be co-opted.

The fact that original assassination accounts were

constructed £rom discrete moments of coverage~ each

bearing di££erent journalistic goals, thereby had less

impact due to journalists' reconstructive work. Once

recontextualized as one overall assassination narrative,

the different problems concerning journalistic practice

and authority that emerged during the weekend had little

bearing on the general tone of the assassination coverage.

Journalists reconstructed their role in covering the

assassination by assuming responsibility for the narrative

in its entirety. This allowed them to assume

responsibility both £or the work o£ other journalists and

£01' coverage in which they played no role. It gave them a

credible role in the larger narrative, regardless o£ "hat

they personally did, saw or heard. Technology

photographs, eyewitness accounts and, later, :films

assisted them by giving them a technological base on "hich

to conceal or o££set the parameters o£ their (o£ten £alse)

authority £or the event. This was essential £or their

emergence as an interpretive communitYR

 146

£91'§'Q1.!L'LLO.N_ys.B?Jl:~LL~IOB![Link]±QN_

These pages have suggested that in recounting their

part in covering Kennedy~s assassination, reporters

created boundaries of the event that went beyond the

actual moments during which the President was killed.

Adopting synecdochal representations of the story, they

reconstructed the event as one long narrative, that began

Friday morning, when Kennedy and his wife were met with

bouquets of red rases at Love Airfield in Dallas,. and

ended Monday afternoon, when the slain President was laid

to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. The fact that this

stretch of four days has entered the collective

consciousness and has been perpetuated by reporters as one

story within its repertoire o£ collective memory certainly

lent closure to the events of Kennedy's death. But i t also

imposed closure on the meanings behind journalistic

presence within such a story. It made their presence

meaningful not only because of the information they

provided but because of their ability to narrate a

gripping public drama. Their talents of in£ormation-

provision were thus recast as a rhetorical e~ercisel' much

like the validation of their authority had in essence

always been.

This set up a situation by which journalists could

justifiably legitimate themselves as an authoritative,

 147

interpretive community. The ability of journalists to act

as masters or ceremonies and play an active part in

healing the nation is certainly a capacity they played

well, exemplified by the dignified mode of conduct

exhibited by many reporters covering Kennedy's funeral or

the temporary abandonment of investigatory procedure for

reverence But this analysis has shown that even

consolation was only part of the picture. On a number of

counts, journalists provided neither in£ormation nor

consolation. Within many of the moments of coverage that

comprised the assassination story, journalists failed to

align themselves with either the formalized professional

standards that guided them during regular news coverage,

or· standards of improvisation and instinct, the "'what a

story" category implicitly reserved for special event

coverage.

Yet tales of their coverage have endured. In part

their lasting significance rested with technology. It is

not coincidental that the parameters of journalists'

memories of the assassination parallel the coverage lent

the event by television. Professional memories begin and

end in direct correspondence with the coverage provided by

television journalists, adopting the four-day time span

that lent the event continuity. It is in these terms that

journalists became, in the terminology of Elihu Katz and

 148

Daniel Dayan p per£ormers of a media event, putting the

American people collectively through its paces of shock,

grie£ and reconciliation

The fact, however, that the technological parameters

of television were adopted by journalists in

reconstructing the event raises serious questions about

the degree to which their authority for telling it was

originally justified. The unroutinized and unpredictable

conditions for coverage, coupled with institutional

demands for information and the shadows laid over

normative forms of journalistic practice access to

sources, eyewitness status, or fact verification

embedded problems of journalistic authority in much of the

assassination coverage. The settings by which journalists

could experiment with improvisory and instinctual forms of

pro£essional behavior also increased their receptiveness

to new media technologies. That over time they would

perpetuate the narratives offered by one technology over

others belied the extent to which their professionalism

depended on the medium of television. Technology, in a

sense, stabilized the improvisory nature of their

profeSSional practice.

It is worth noting that journalists' dependence on

teleVision was also illustrated by the relatively

unproblematized role of radio: In journalistic accounts of

 149

the assassination, radio was rarely mentioned or

aclmow 1 edged, even when both television and print

journalists borrowed the words of its reporters. It was

also rarely identified, either by medium, network or

individual reporter. Journalists recast radio as having

played a minor role in covering the assassination story,

literally erasing it from institutional recollections

because of the implicit importance they ascribed to

television.

The master narrative of Kennedy's death has thus told

of "covering the body," in bath its literal and figurative

forms .. Its implicit message is one o£ solace and

consolation, lending closure to events which might have

otherwise remained difficult and incomprehensible. But the

sub-text behind this narrative, presented alongside such

messages of comfort and consolation, has tried to forward

a story of journalistic professionalism. Much retelling of

Kennedy's assassination has thus been invested from the

beginning with legitimating journalists, and particularly

television journalists, as professionals. Journalists'

memories of the assassination are narratives that have

celebrated their own professionalism. This chapter has

shown that the actual coverage of Kennedy's assassination

Was fraught with conduct that made formalized professional

standards problematic. Authority for the assassination

 150

story, then, which journalists might have assumed for

their coverage of events, was rarely, if ever, grounded in

practice. Instead, it was grounded in rhetoric, in the

narratives by which journalists have given themselves a

central role as the assassination story~s authorized

retellers.

In this chapter, I have examined the basic narrative

corpus by .,hich journalists recounted their part in the

assassination at the time that it happened. These

narratives have revealed that the assassination coverage

was in many cases a situation of problematic journalistic

professionalism. Journalists turned their failures into

triumphs already by the end of the assassination weekend.

This means that the reconstructive work of journalists was

part of the assassination story from its inception and was

basic to their emergence as authorized spokespeople for

the assassination story.

The accounts presented here constitute only one level

of an intricate network of recollections, reminiscences

and reconstructions by which the assassination story has

been told and perpetuated. Over time, the central and

authoritative presence o£ journalists has been firmly

embedded in the tales by which they retold the

assassination story. Journalists have come to

strategically use the assassination to legitimate

 151

themselves as professionals, trans£orming it as much into

a story about American journalists as about America's 34th

President. This chapter has traced the narrative corpus

against which such a process began.

" Gaye Tuchman, lt9..r;.;i,..!lR•.!I!.§.'!!.~. (New York: The Free Press,

1978), p. 39££ .
• Tuchman, pp. 59-63.
'" Her bert Ga n s , P.",..siEli!!..9._Wtl_EiJo":5L.!'!."'.!'.'.§. ( New Yor k: Pan thea n
Books, 1979), p. 157.
". William Manchester, Tl>e_.p.?_?t.!LQ.L3Ll'.£",,§,b.£!e[Lt. (New York:
Harper and Row, 1967), p. 329. I have elected to use
Manchester's account o£ the assassination to set the
chronological background against which journalists' tales
were initially told.
~; W.E'_IT.?!.l. R e po r t :__B.§:Q.ort_9L ..tJ!.§-..!?F..§'_S i d.",n t ":..!L..g9."l.!'li..~.~.~.Q!!.....£!:>'
th",.lL"!§..Ei§.§.!!!.E'_i;".:i,.9..!l_Q:[..£!,:§'s .j,.g~nJo_K"'.!l!.l.."'.c:!'y. ( Wa s h i ng ton, D . C. :
United States Government Printing Office, 1964), p. 201,
h enc e£ ort h r e£ er r ed t a as the \\[Link]"'..!L.9..9.~L"l.i s,,? i 9.!!.....B.§.p.9..!':.:t. •
• Tom Wicker, "A Reporter Must Trust His Instinct,"
;?."!.:I::,yrd"!.Y...B."'.yJ..§.w. ( 1 1 11 164), p. 81,
"7 Darwin Payne, "The Press Corps and the Kennedy
As sa s i na t ion," I9..l!....!:>.S!..l,j. SJ]L!:!.QIl_Q.[Link].t.:!.§. ( Feb r u a r y, 1 970) ,
S Unidentified radio newscaster (11/22/63), quoted on
"25th Anniversary o£ JFK Assassina·tion," Y.£9.sL_lt9£rl.!.!!,g:.
fl.. !R!l'.rJ..9_Ei., ABC News (11/22/88).
" Robert MacNeil, NltG....!'!.."',!!§,. (11/22/63).
:1. 0 Wicker I' ~~t~";r_4.§n~_J~LI§':.ll.~Si, 1964, p. 81.
u. Tom Wicker, !'I-"'.,!!_YOl::.!!;__'L:\.me§. (11/23/63), p. 2.
:1. ~~: N.~ w ._y ~H;J5__:r~.!!!:.§:.§. (11/23/63) I' p. 5 .
.
~ .::~ !J?J:'H9,J' P . 5 .
:I. ,(,1· .!J.;?_tQ., P 5.
:l.~'~~; J;hict, p. 5 ..
,. ", "The Reporters' Story," Cq,.!.y.!l!.!?..;i,..Ei..._l9...t,[Link].S! . J._:i-.§.[!L.B.",yJ.!l'.'!!
(Winter, 1964), p.8.
:I. 7' J..,Q.J.~g., pp . 5, 8.
",. !;.gJ19.E. ....Ei./:!!;LP..H!::>;U.§k!.",l':. (12 1 7 163), p, 10 •
:1. ';{,) [Link].~, p • 14.
_0 Manchester, 1967, p. 167.
;i,.: :L II The A ssa ss ina t ion, J' 9_Q..J:Jd.!~b ;_~_J.:.9JJH?£nH~A~. §.~..._J(§..Y...~_~~
(Winter, 1964), p. 27.
;;:.;:.,;;: Wilbur Schramm, "Communication in Crisis, H in Bradley
S, Greenberg and Edwin Parker (eds.), Ltl..§'......K..§'.!:l.!:l.",}:h",.
fl..§§§.§§ i .!l.~t;.[Link].!:l.9... t!..'-§'..Am.§.l':J.~s!!:L..P...Y!::>:I,:j.£ (P a loA lto : Stan f or d
University Press, 1965), p. 11.
""'" J;;,.<!,Lt9..L....§,ncLP1.![Link]§l>e:r:. <11/30/63), p. 14,
 152

""" Walter Cronkite, CB_::L_lILewS!. (11/22/63) •

•• Unidentified radio newscaster (11/22/63), quoted on
JFK, ABC News Documentary (11/11/83).
:C;,,··. ·. Schramm, in Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 4 •
• 7 Manchester, 1967, p. 190.
;i;:(';\ Richard Van der Karr, IIHow Dallas TV Stations Covered
Kenn ed y S ho ot i n g ," [Link]..ll..§t!'J._"'-IJl..._Q.'di:!..,,=.t-_~~Jy:. (A u t um n , 1965).
,C,'f> Wicker, ;"l.."!.t-.!,l..;:. 9."!.Y........R..e..Y. ;i.~_"l., 1964, p. 82.
~'''' Elmer Lower, "A Television Network Gathers the News" in
Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 71.
;:,'):L ~H~'f!___y:.9._;r_15_._1:i~.§:s (11/23/63)" p. 2.
~. Manchester, 1967, pp. 222, 242.
3;~: .±_bis!.p p. 222.
'" <,. Wick er , !'!!e.!L.Y..9..;r;:.!:LI.i.!!!.e..§. (11/23/64). p. 2.
~?e~ Wi c ker" ~~J;.;_l::t;£,9..9..Y__ -B..§...Y.A§.~., 1964 , P • 82 .
::i:' ~.'" J.J.!.:tg. p p• 82.
3 7 This chapter attends only to those aspects of the
assassination story which figured prominently in
chronicles of journalistic practice. Other units of
coverage - such as the murder of Officer Tippit or the
apprehension of Oswald - played an important part in
defining the tone of coverage but were less central to
discussions of appropriate journalistic practice.
3. Manchester, 1967, p. 222.
:;.:'::., liThe Reporters" Story," [Link] UJl1.R!.~_. _._.;!.2.!:!..E.n9..!_~. §_!fLJ~.§_Y.:J..§.~.,
1964, p. 14.
<,., J i '" Bi sh op , Ih. § ........P.i'tY.._X'l'. !lP.e.9J!_ . \I1§.§ __.?_Q..qJ;,. (N e w Yor k: Ba n ta m
Books, 1968), p. 266.
'<:1' :I, 11Th e Re par'ter s S to ry , J' QQ.J. U If!.!? i ~;r.9..b!!.'"D.'§!'.1" i Sl!LJ3~yJ.§."'&",
II

1964, p. 15.
4a Payne, 1970~ p. 7 .
.tl·;:~ "The Reporters'# Story 1''' gnQ.,l UJ.!l.J2Ht~~~._~.9..Y~;':.n~_+jd2m ....R§:.Y.~. §.~.,
1964, p. 16.
":1·":1' ~_c.L~.J:.o;rH".J~~.nsLJ:l-!J:?J;. J._~.h.§:!:. (11/30/63), P • 67 •
....+~~.~ !t§,~_Y9_~ k".~_T_~_l]l§.§.,. ( 11/23/63), p. 2 ..
4. David Brinkley and Chet Huntley, NBC News (11/22/63),
<,."7 Charles Roberts, I..he..._I;r;:-',,!.E-.Q....A)::>g..l,Lt__thE?__.A_s;.sa..ssj._I},.§ .E-j...91}" (New
York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1967).
<,.<> \I1;'!!:..f..e...!:!. ......CgJlLI!)..;i..§§..;i,...9!!.....R![Link].t., 1964, p. 202.
<,.'", I .Q!.£, p. 208.
"'''' Gary Paul Gates, ,'\j,,.;r;:.E-..;i..!Jt..§'. (New York: Harper and Row,
1978).
~ :1. ~.~£'F.'_§:.!.L_."G_Q.ffiJ!}H.t§"§'.!.9.!1._J3§';B.Q!:J:., 1 964 , P D 213 . Beca u se the
Warren Report provides the most comprehensive step by step
account o£ how journalists covered Oswald's murder, I have
elected to use it here in providing a chronology of events
around his death.
~.~;;;::~ JJ:?,.;[Link],. p. 21 6 •
!;'.~;~,,) I!:?'.J:s1., p. 227.
 153

",;". Tom Pettit, "The Television Story in Dallas" in

Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 63.
~;:;!!.'.'; !?:.;r_Q...of!g.£~.§~t)~.H_9, (12/2/63) I p. 46.
",." !i§.~§..~_~e15. (2/2/63), p. 21.
m7 Payne. 1970, p. 12.
"'li' g,QJ.E-9.F__§J}£...P.'dP.l-..i.sh_ez:. (11/30/63), p. 16.
,"'" .±.biQ.. p. 17.
(.;:. 0 !?:F-.9_~_~9.~_§~!!l9.. (12/2/63),. P. 37.
,~" Ike Pappaa, quoted in 9.!L1£.i3!J..., London Weekend
Television documentary (11/22/88-11/23/88).
,;;,,0 l?,l':9ag_[Link].?.§.:Lill9. (12/2/63), p. 46. Oswald's murder was
actually not the first murder on television. The closest
parallel occurred in October 1960, when a Japanese
political leader was knifed on a public stage in Tokyo.
Video-taped recordings were played back on Japanese
television ten minutes later [~J!'..l" Yor.J:<:_.li!.!!§!!;;. (11/25/63),
p. 1]. However the large-scale audiences which viewed
Oswald's death were considerably larger and more attentive
than were those of the earlier incident.
",,, !'?r.Q?.s:tc;:~§.:I;;_;i,.It9. (12 1 2 / 63), P • 46.
&4 Gates,. 1978, p. 254.
""ii' !'?'.:9.!'!.QC;:.!'!.,".t_!Q.9. <12/2/63), P • 46.
(""c,;:.. Th"!. 9.1 P . 46.
e.·7 §:_<;lAE-.9.!, an d P u gJ.j..§.h.§'.'L (11 130/63), P • 6 •
IJ:d C!,. p. 73.
~.':.tii}

""ii' !3.£9_§Q9.~s1;.iD.9. (12/2/63), p. 36. The flip side of this

reorganization was the pressure brought to bear on news
organizations unable to do so. How they justified i t was
exemplified in the following office memo published on the
front pages of Ike Progr.§,.§si.y.§,,:
"The December issue was irrevocably in the mails early
on November 22. If you felt it was strange that the
December issue, reaching you in late November or
early December, carried not a word of the world's
irrevocable loss o£ JFK, please understand how it
happened. Daily newspapers, despite crushing problems
of their own, faced no such problems. Weekly magazines
could reach their readers in a matter of days after
the tragedy. Other monthlies fared worse than I.h.~.
PXgg.'.:.§§.§.A.y'g, or somewhat better, depending on their
pUblication and mailing dates. It is a minor irony
that we had advanced our mailing date to Friday
November 22, to get the magazine to the post-office
before the weekend, as a way of overcoming the
expected slowness of the mails during the following
week of the Thanksgiving holiday" (1/1/64, p. 1).
70 f.t:ro~£Lq.§!.§..[Link]~ (12/2/63).
70 Schramm, in Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 12.
""" Ni e I s on Co., IY.._B.'2..s po Q§§,_,"__19__t.h§,_.. D"'2.!Jl..__'?f.._§'l....1'.l':§.§i.Q.~Q.E-.
(New York:1963).
 154

73 Schramm, in Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 25.

74 Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 382.
'7'" Ed,,,in Newman, !,!,!3.S;:_,J'!§_~,§, (11/22/88).
-"<E, !'!.~~,,_york-L,U'!§_"!. (11/23/63), pp.1, 7.
on' Richard L. Tobin, "If You Can Keep Your Head When All
About You ..• ," ?..§lJ;Y<:.f.L€!LJl<eyi",_V1. (12/14/63), p. 54. On July
31, 1987, ABC broadcast a "Person of the Week" segment on
Reston, during which it hailed that specific column.
-7t'l ~stit.Q.~gJ~t~t-E.!:lJ?J:. !§Jl§£ (12/7163) ~ p. 44.
7<> !'!_"'~_'(2rk_Tj,.!1LEli1. (11/22/63), p. 11 •
••,0 !;l;LQ,2.9£_"!,§,t i !:!S. (12 1 2 163), p. 37.
(~ ~. 112A-:_9" p. 54 .
..,,", ~L~,Y..9Lk Til'!.§.§, (11/26/53), p. 11.
t;,\;,f, !3r9a£9~_§_t...:1..!!_g. (12/2/63) II p. 50).
~a~I' Tab i n fI ;?&!.t_~_;-_q.§.J:~_ ...Rev i_~\1.... 1963.. p.. 53.
"~~~i N~.~:L ...Y._9.£~_ ... _::LLl}!.~_§. (11/26/63) I' P . 11.
g6, Charles Collingwood, S;::B)?__ ,N~§. (11/25/53).
"''7 1.£J..9. (11/25/63) •
•• This point is discussed in Elihu Katz and Daniel Dayan,
...
!1§_g._.t..~ ~_Y.§!_n.t§. (Ne\rJ York: Oxford University Press,
forthcoming) .
8 9 Katz and Dayan, forthcoming.
 155

CHAPTER FIVE

"COVERING THE BODY"

THROUGH PROFESSIONAL ASSESSMENT

Journalists' reconstructive work in turning the

assassination story into a marker o£ pro£essional

accomplishment began in the weeks immediately £ollowing

Kennedy's death. Particularly in pro£essional and trade

circles" marking assassination coverage as professional

triumph had bearing on the collective sentiments that

prevailed among journalists. Journalists' reconstructive

work signalled the parameters of appropriate journalistic

practice through stories of triumph, £ailure, irony,

mishap and tragedy, all replayed as integral parts of

assassination retellings.

In the following pages, I explore how journalists,

£aced with problems o£ professionalism in covering

Kennedy's death, endeavored to cast their practices as

pro£essional. I consider how journalists pro£essionally

assessed their coverage at the time by emphasizing the

improvisory and instinctual behavior that helped them

emerge triumphant and downplaying angles problematic to

formalized notions of pro£essionalism. This chapter first

considers the narratives that appeared shortly a£ter the

assassination in mediated discourse, and then the

narratives that appeared in trade publications and

 156

pro£essional £orums, both o£ which showed how journalists

stretched boundaries o£ pro£essional behavior and

journalistic practice in order to legitimate themselves as

authorized spokespeople £or the assassination story.

In the media, journalists assessed their coverage o£

the assassination story in two main ways: One way

problematized the limits o£ journalism and journalistic

practice through stories o£ mishap; the other way paid

tribute to those same limitations through stories o£

triumph.

The £act that the assassination story placed "perhaps

the heaviest burden in modern times on the news-gathering

capabilities o£ the American press'" £igured directly in

journalistic stories o£ mishap~ For its circumstances

the disorder, £requency and salience o£ independent

moments o£ coverage, lack o£ access to sources, inability

to veri£y £acts called for coping strategies among

journalists. They needed to depend more on improvisory and

instinctual behavior than on formalized notions of

journalistic practice, and their stories of mishap

reflected this dependence.

 157

To an extent coping strategies were necessitated by

the event~s uniqueness, and the fact that it generated

unending demands for information. New_Xor~ T"m~§_ reporter

Tom Wicker heard a car radio blare news o£ the President's

death while he was milling about outside Parkland Memorial

Hospital. "No authority," he said later of the broadcast.

"No supporting evidence, but I believed it immediately

because in that situation it sounded right and it sounded

true" -. Elsewhere he said that he knew of

no reporter who was there who has a clear and

orderly picture of that surrealistic afternoon;
it is still a matter of bits and pieoes thrown
hastily into something like a whole -.

The ohief editor of Ih.!L_.J~.§'.I?0".:..t.§<£ displayed a similar

attempt to cope when he justified his "numbed grief"

expressed in a column written "on November 22, a few hours

a£ter the President died" 4. Practices and behavior which

figured in assessments signalled journalists' ability to

respond instantly to unexpected circumstances, bend

established rules and procedures on a hunch and be correct

in doing so. This helped journalists deal with mishaps by

raising questions about certain givens of practice and

rearranging the significance attached to them.

One given was the journalistic "scoop". The fact that

Coverage of Kennedy's shoC!ting was accomplished by

 158

amateurs, not professionals, denied journalists the major

scoop of the assassination story: Prose accounts readily

incorporated the words of eyewitnesses as journalists

tried to piece together what had happened; amateurs,

notably dressmaker Abraham Zapruder, Mary Muchmore and

Orville Nix, similarly recorded the shooting on film,

outpacing the "TV cameras recording the motorcade (which)

didn't get usable pictures" ,

t'5 •
and still photographic

evidence of the Kennedy shooting was provided by amateur

photographers Mary Moorman and David Miller, who captured

the moment with simple Polaroid cameras, in what one trade

publication said was distanced, unprofessional and

unfocused footage 5. Other than the Associated Press' shot

of the Secret Service agent sprinting onto the back of the

Kennedy automobile, professional photographers admitted

that they "never had a chance to take a picture" '7

These facts challenged the professionalism of

journalists covering the story. In order to cast coverage

of Kennedy's death as a story of professional triumph, i t

thus became necessary to bypass the importance of .. the

scoop" by redefining what it meant. Goals thereby moved

from generating first-hand information to collecting it

second-hand: UPI, for example, "claimed it provided the

 159

fir·st film for TV of President Kennedy's assassination

when it sold sequences shot by Dallas amateur photographer

11ary Muchmore to WNEW-TV New York" <;. k.i.:f.~. Vias hailed for

running Zapruder's sequence as a four-page photographic

spread in its November 29 issue. In both cases, the poor

alternative this offered to providing the footage

themselves was not visibly problematized: For example, in

the text accompanying the pictures Zapruder's

name was not mentioned, and the sequence Vias labelled a

[Link].{sble and exclusive series o£ pictures" which

displayed the details of Kennedy's death "for the first

time" 9.

Professional photographer Richard Stolley recounted

how kJ..i§. sent him to engineer purchase of the Zapruder

film. He observed that

(Zapruder) was gentle with us, almost apologetic

that it was a middle-aged dressmaker and nat one
of the world-famous photographers with the
Presidential press party who had provided the
only filmed account of the President's murder
:1. CI

Bidding over the heads of UPI, the Associated Press and

other news magazines, !,.if..§. paid $150,000 for all rights to

the film. The purchase was obviously engineered in order

to boost magazine sales, but it also corrected a basically

flawed journalistic per£ormance, redressing with money

what ki.i.§.:_.'2. staff had missed in practice. Interestingly,

it also highlighted the importance of technology, for kA~~.

 160

bought the technologically-produced of the

assassination, not the coverage itself.

Similar attempts to offset missing the scoop

surrounded still photography_ James Featherston, a

reporter for the Dall~§LJA~~§-H~_~ld, told of obtaining a

Polaroid photograph of the shooting from a woman

bystander, although some reports held that he "stole" or

took it by force '.'.• Photographs were sometimes published

without mentioning the amateur photographers who took

them, a violation of commonly-followed rules of

acknowledgement. And certain narratives by which

photography's role in events was retold recast the missed

scoop of news photographers as a professional triumph: For

[Link], a 1968 Q],!j,J.J.. article about "Professional ism in

News Photography" featured a picture of bystanders

stretched atop the grassy knoll near the assassination

scene, under the following caption:

Seconds after the John F. Kennedy assassination

bullets hit their mark, news photographers kept
on working as bystanders "hit the dust" for
protection. Photographers, including the one who
took this picture, reacted instantly as
professionals should ••

Original accounts of the shooting showed that this was not

the case, for with one exception photographers missed the

Kennedy shooting. It was telling that recasting this

mishap as a professional triumph was engineered by a trade

publication, where the need for professional legitimation

 151

may have been more salient than in other types of

publications.

Discomfort over missing the major scoop of the

assassination weekend was reflected in interviews

conducted with journalists one year later. They held that

most news organizations lauded for their good taste in

not having shown explicit photographs or footage of

Kennedy's assassination - would have displayed the footage

had it been available, a judgment borne out by their

coverage of Oswald's murder:

the American public beyond Dallas did not

witness the assassination of the President
simply because the television cameras had not
been set up in the fateful block and because
film of the event was not available until some
time later, when its news value had changed to
historical value 1 3

Missing the footage thus punctured a hole in journalists'

professional personae that Friday.

Yet the importance of missing the scoop was redefined

with the assistance of technology. Technology made it

possible for journalists to turn first-order collections

of information into second-order collections of the

information gathered by others. Journalists adjusted

"missing the scoop" into a second-order practice, by which

they bought. stole or borrowed the records generated by

other journalists of their own scoops. Technology - which

 162

made such an adjustment possible - helped journalists hold

onto their professional identities.

Tales of mishap also centered on a feature that has

since become a mainstay o£ on-the-spot journalism, the

eyewitness report. Questions of eyewitness testimony - and

who was sufficiently competent and authorized to provide

it - were complicated by the large numbers of people who

had informally gathered to watch the Presidential

motorcade. Journalists mingled with the crowds, and their

observations were countered or supported by lay testimony.

This fact put the eyewitness report, as a specific form of

journalistic record-keeping, in a problematic light.

Journalists provided eyewitness testimony in their roles

as bystanders or spectators to the assassination, rather

than as professional journalists. Eyewitness testimony

provided the details of the crime before it was called

upon to realize professional aims.

The effect that this had on journalistic notions of

observation, seen by journalists as a pro£essional

activity, was tangible. In ~~§~~ek correspondent Charles

ROberts' eyes, journalists were supposed to be "'trained

professional observers" :I. .(.j • • Yet few journalists actually

saw the President being killed. Few had access to

circumstances which could improve their perspective. As

 163

William Manchester later said, reporters '·weren't learning

much where they were .•• They were dependent on the

cooperation of colleagues and tolerant passers-by who

hopefully would be reliable··· m While the inability to

provide eyewitness testimony about the Kennedy shooting

was partly mitigated by the provision of eyewitness

testimony by others, its absence nonetheless left a mark

of amateurism on overall journalistic accomplishments of

the weekend. This made the authority of journalistic

accounts problematic.

This was admitted readily by some journalists. "If I

learned anything in Dallas that day, besides what it's

like to be numbed by shock and grief, it was that

eyewitness testimony is the worst kind," said Charles

Roberts ' •• In his 1967 book on the assassination, Roberts

tore apart the authority of the eyewitness report as a

genre. The "more that is written about Dallas on the basis

of eyewitness recollection, the more my suspicion is

confirmed," he said :1.7 Tracing his own faulty recall of

details associated with the President's car, the grassy

knoll, the inauguration, he called eyewitnessing the

"worst kind" of record-keeping available to journalists:

To be a witness to the events that followed the

final shot was like witnessing the proverbial
explosion in a shingle factory and not knowing,
at each split second, where to look. I would
hesitate to testify under oath to some events I
saw peripherally. With hindsight, I now realize
 164

that many of the words I frantically took down

from the mouths of witnesses during the next few
hours were the product of imagination, shock,
con£usion, or from something much worse - the
macabre desire of some bystanders to be
identified with a great tragedy. or to pretend
greater first-hand knowledge of the event than
they actually possess ••

Roberts complained that eyewitness testimony provided

incomplete, faulty, subjective data that could be easily

overturned.

Yet Roberts carefully documented his own eyewitness

stature. His book was billed as an "eyewitness reporter's

documented point-by-point study" Its back flap

displayed a picture of his press credentials under the

title the "official White House badge which (he) \-Jore

during the assassination." The flap also told readers that

(Roberts) was in the first press bus of the

Kennedy motorcade when the shots rang out. He
was one of only two reporters who witnessed the
swearing-in of Lyndon Johnson aboard Air Force
One at Dallas and then accompanied the new
President, his wife and Mrs. Kennedy to
Washington aboard the plane bearing the the body
of the slain president.

Roberts' book bore a picture of the Johnson swearing-in

under the caption ""standing behind the President is

Charles Roberts, author of this book" E"". The same picture

was [Link] in ~~~~~~k with a thick white arrow

superimposed in the direction of Roberts' head, under the

caption, "The long voyage home: Charles Roberts (arrow)

Covers LBJ's Bwearing-in" of this suggests that

 165

while Roberts was ambivalent about his eyewitness status,

he was also careful to document it.

Roberts was not the only reporter to admit such an

ambivalence.

day after the assassination, pointed out that

most reporters in the press buses were too £ar

back to see the shooting .•. It was noted that the
President's car had picked up speed and raced
away, but reporters were not aware that anything
serious had occurred 2 2

Wicker went on to lament the faulty vision which most

reporters in the motorcade shared. Yet Wicker's own

eyewitness account was systematically circulated as one of

the better eyewitness reports of the assassination

coverage.

Eyewitnessing was thus invoked both as a basis for

journalistic authority and as a faulty method of

journalistic record-keeping. This ambivalence suggests

that journalists were unclear about the part to be played

by this practice, and hints at why the reordering of

certain professional practices was necessitated by

Kennedy's death.

Some journalists tried to overcome the eyewitness

report's unreliable status by constructing their authority

for the a~[Link] story in ather ways. One

alternative, mentioned earlier, was providing synecdochal

representations of what had happened, making the part

 166

"stand in" for the whole. Another was concentrating on

those aspects of the assassination story which either

engaged journalists' observation in a professional fashion

as in Oswald's murder or made eyewitnessing

irrelevant - as in the funeral. This made problems with

the eyewitness report less central to the overall

assassination record8

It is also important to note that journalists

bolstered the unreliability of eyewitnessing through

technology. Technological output, notably photographs and

films, produced a record of journalistic presence that

authenticated their eyewitness status to events of the

assassination weekend. Due to the preservation

capabilities they offered, reporters' eyewitness status

was generally upheld within the larger assassination

narrative,. including footage that "witnessed" Oswald's

shooting, for example. By concentrating on events which

visibly featured journalists as eyewitnesses, being a

second-hand witness became less of a mishap in the

assassination's overall narrative than it might have been.

Again, this stressed how technology helped journalists

uphold their professional identities by redefining givens

about journalistic practice.

 167

The possibility that journalists had inter£ered with

events o£ the assassination weekend was also aired by

journalists. In particular, stories o£ this kind o£ mishap

typi£ied tales o£ covering Oswald's murder. Journalists

were £aulted on three points £or circulating hal£-

truths, prematurely establishing Oswald's guilt, and

possibly £acilitating his murder. magazine

attested to the invalidity o£ Oswald's statement that he

had not killed anyone with the statement, "This was a lie"

headline which read "President's Assassin Shot to Death"

one observer lamented the £act that the press had

taken to calling Oswald "the assassin" rather than "the

alleged assassin". The £acts were insu££icient to prove

his guilt, contended Richard Tobin in the §al;;.urd~.Y_J!!,,_,,-ie~:

Lee Harvey Oswald had not yet legally been

indicted, much less convicted, o£ President
Kennedy's assassination. The !:!.ew__'LQ!'l<__:LLllL~§. had
no right whatever under American law Or the
standards o£ journalistic £air play to call the
man the "President's assassinu ... What did the
T:i,.mE!§.' own banner line do i£ not prejudge
wi thout trial, jury or legal verdict? "''''

The headline promp·ted I;i,. !]LeS_ editor Turner Catledge to

admit his paper had erred •••

Journalistic inter£erence in the events surrounding

Oswald was problematic £or reporters who publicly

questioned the viability o£ journalistic presence. Their

 168

discussions largely centered on technology and the so-

called Uintrusive equipment"· of television journalists.

Marya Mannes penned her complaints in Th§ Repor~er a few

weeks after the assassination:

The clutter of newsmen and their microphones in

the basement corridor. The milling and talking,
and then those big fat men bringing the thin
pasty prisoner, and then the back of a man with
a hat, and then Oswald doubled, and then
pandemonium, scuffles, shouts and young Tom
Truitt and his microphone in and out of the
picture trying to find out what happened.
Questions seethed through my mind: How in God's
name could the police expose a President's
assassin to this jumble of people at close
range?

Ultimately, however, journalists" interference in the

events around Oswald was addressed by quarters outside of

the journalistic community, when the Warren Commission

took issue with it.

Interfering with events posed particular problems for

journalists on the assassination story due to the fact

that television was still an uncertain medium for news.

Other reporters ;"ere unused to the cables and camera

equipment which television journalists brought with them.

As ASNE (American Society of Newspaper Editors) head

Herbert Brucker maintained, the murder was

related to police capitulation in the glare of

pUblicity ••. to suit the convenience of the news
media •.. (the problem grew) principally out of
something new in journalism ••. the intrusion of
the reporter himsel£ in the news ~s
 169

These particular points monopolized public appraisals of

the assassination coverage for months following the event.

But they were absented from subsequent journalistic

accounts o£ the assassination~ a point showing what

journalists were willing to perpetuate about their

assassination coverage. Over time, interfering with the

events around Oswald did not fit collective perceptions

about themselves.

Stories of lesser mishaps ranged from minute detail

that was wrongfully conveyed to entire stories that never

made it to print or broadcast. These included

misquotations and inaccuracies, contradictory reports

about the make of the gun, the number of shots, the number

of assassins, and the location from which the assassin had

fired ••. Even whether or not Jackie Kennedy's skirt had

been spattered with blood was disputed 30.

Many mishaps had to do with technology, and the fact

that journalists could not always master it as needed.

Dallas TV reporter Ron Reiland, "the only reporter" to

accompany police to the Texas theater where Oswald had

hidden, "reversed the process £or indoor filming,

suffering one of the hardest scoop losses of the period"

':::) :l
NBC's Bill Ryan read verbatim from AP bulletins held

by technicians at his feet and held up AP photographs of

 170

the motorcade because there was uno videotape and no

£ilm" .. A phone patch to NBC correspondent Robert MacNeil

at Parkland Hospital failed because of overloaded circuits

It took CBS nearly 20 minutes to join Walter

Cronkite's face with his voice, a feat which encouraged

network officials to later install a special "flash

facilitating simultaneous visual and audio

transmission 33.

One reporter's story of technological mishap was

often another's triumph. Within a general air of

cooperation, tales of rivalry and competition nonetheless

found their way into retellings. After the shots were

fired at Kennedy, UPI's Merriman Smith and Jack Bell of

the Associated Press rushed for a telephone to report the

story. Seated in the front seat of the pool car, Smith

accomplished the task first by radiophone. William

Manchester provided the following reconstructed account of

that incident:

(Smith decided that) the longer he could keep

Bell out of touch with an AP operator, the
longer that lead would be. So he continued to
talk. He dictated one take, two takes, three,
four. Indignant, Bell rose from the center of
the rear seat and demanded the phone. Smith
stalled. He insisted that the Dallas operator
read back the dictation. The wires overhead, he
argued, might have interfered with his
transmission. No one was deceived by that.
Everyone in the car could hear the cackling of
the UPI operator's voice. The relay was perfect.
Bell, red-faced and screaming, tried to wrest
the radiophone from him. Smith thrust it between
 171

his knees and crouched under the dash ••• (then)

surrendered the phone to Bell, and at that
moment, it went dead 3 4 .

There was also a £lip side to the triumphs o£

technology £or the reporters ",ho experienced them. As NBC

reporter Tom Pettit said o£ the minutes a£ter his live

televised broadcast o£ Oswald's murder, I. when other

reporters were £ree to go inside police headquarters to

get Hlore in£ormation, I still was tied to the live

microphone" ~$~.'!l
. Pettit saw himsel£ limited by the very

instruments o£ technology which had earned him, in the

words o£ Broad~~_~ting. magazine, a in television

history" '::~£,r,'.

Stories o£ journalistic mishap during the

assassination were thus largely thematized through

technology: On one hand, normative upsets missing

scoops, becoming second-hand witnesses or inter£ering with

events were construed as having been redressed by

technology, which o£ten £acilitated additional standards

o£ action that allowed journalists to hold onto their

pro£essional identities. On the other hand, journalists

admitted succumbing to technology. All o£ this gave

journalists an extensive £oundation on which to consider

standards o£ journalistic practice and authority. Through

their stories o£ mishap, they raised questions about the

boundaries o£ journalistic coverage appropriate to the

 172

event. The unpredictability, salience and frequency with

",hich large and crucial issues crossed their paths

generated questions about the degree of authority they

could comfortably and legitimately claim for interpreting

the assassination story. Stories of mishap allo'.... ed them to

air concerns about the insufficiency of formalized notions

of practice. This helped journalists bring issues of

their authority for events into the forefront of

discussions about covering the assassination.

Journalists did not only see the assassination story

as being problematic, however. Many of its angles were

upheld as triumphs of coverage. Stories of triumph were

cast against the larger background in which coverage took

place, ",>1th its emphasis on unprecedented ness and

disorder. Whereas tales of mishap allowed journalists to

air concerns about £ormalized notions o£ pro£essionalism,

in tales of triumph they valorized on-the-spot judgment

calls and hunches as signs of the "'true"' professional.

These stories generally assumed one of three forms

"'being the first"', "'being the best·· and "'being the only"'.

The Kennedy assassination offered parameters or

action which were on the one hand unpredictable and

 173

unroutinized, and on the other, the focus of extended and

exclusive media attention. Such circumstances gave

journalists the opportunity to implement a series of

"£irstsll in covering the story. Authority was derived from

cases where such practices prevailed.

Conceptions o£ "being the £irstlil referenced the

presentational style that remained after the Kennedy story

had been told. "Being the first .. in the event of Kennedy's

death differed from media presentations of other events.

For example, while radio's role in the death of President

Harding challenged existing notions of journalistic

practice, it did not produce the kind of sustained stage

that Kennedy's assassination did. Many journalists had

never before covered the death of a President. Television

journalists had not yet had the opportunity to play a

central part in presenting such an event, and certainly

not in the long, protracted manner of the assassination

weekend 3'"

This set up alternate parameters by which journalists

could cover the assassination story: On one hand, most

journalists lacked the professional precedents to help

them rehearse the event. They also lacked identifiable

markers by which to cue their moves "'_. On the other, the

sustained nature of media coverage during the

assassination offered them the possibility of acting

 174

dixxerently xor extended periods ox time. The quality ox

"firstness" which the Kennedy assassination oxxered was

therexore unique not only because it set up circumstances

that were dix£erent xrom normal coverage but because it

sustained them.

Dixxerences in journalistic practice generated by

these sustained settings added new dimensions to notions

about appropriate proxessional practice. For example,

interrupting scheduled programmming and sustaining the

interruption, xor example, was a dixxerent kind ox

"first·· that directly enhanced the stature ox the

broadcasting networks capable ox accomplishing it. Similar

xeats took place in other media - replating magazine copy

or issuing second newspaper editions.

The event's newness was best articulated by then-NBC

reporter Robert MacNeil on the eve ox the assassination:

This is one ox those days that a reporter £inds

himselx musing about when he"s halx asleep.
Sometimes in a plane. Your mind drixts as your
prepare xor the big story. What is likely to
happen at this moment is that sometimes your
mind drixts to the most extreme thing that could
happen but you hastily dismiss it, because the
most extreme thing never does happen. You pull
your mind back to the ordinary things that
always do happen :·S9 .
When the most extreme thing did happen, journalists were

xaced with xinding new ways to crank out authoritative

interpretations ox why i t did. This was because "old ways"

were rendered unhelpxul, with sources unavailable,
 175

veri£ication unworkable. At the same time, institutional

pressures on journalists to produce in£ormation persisted.

Providing in£ormation thus became as much an institutional

necessity as a pro£essional goal, a circumstance embedded

in the demands created by new technologies.

Journalists told o£

accomplishing work tasks by improvising, redoing completed

tasks and reorganizing around last-minute changes. When

local WBAP-TV reporter Robert Welsh was re£used entry to

Parkland Hospital by the police,

hailed the way he drove over the curb through the

barricade and up to the hospital entrance 40 Meg

Green£ield recalled how stories were "hysterically remade

on deadline" ""'. NBC correspondent Bill Ryan was preparing

the 2.00 p.m. radio newscast when

an unnerved sta££er burst into his o££ice,

shouting, "Get back to TV right away! The
President has been shott" It was 1.45 p.m., and
NBC was o££ the air £01' its daily noon
break ... Technicians had to hastily rig a
patchwork o£ telephone lines be£ore NBC could
tell America that President JFK had been shot in
Dallas. Even then, NBC couldn't tell an anxious
nation whether Kennedy was alive or dead. It
didn't know. In 1963, there were no satellite
links, no microwave relays, no you-heard-it-
here-£irst reports £rom on-the-scene
correspondents. Seated in a closet-size studio,
Ryan and Chet Huntley scrambled not only to
report the news but also to learn it ••
 176

These stories constituted awkward but success£ul attempts

at improvisation .. Journalists conveyed how well they

adapted to last-minute changes, redoing even those tasks

which had already been £inalized. Ultimately their ability

to do so re£lected well on the organizations where they

worked.

Perhaps the most startling attempt at improvisation

was re£lected in the broadcasting industry's decision to

£ocus its cameras on the procession of mourners viewing

Kennedy's casket. This decision, culminating in NBC's 42-

hour marathon broadcast o£ lines o£ mourners to hushed

background music, constituted Iia £irst" in broadcasting

that was called '"television's finest hour"' .t:~.:;;,) .. Journalists

were lauded £or their good taste and sensitivity, £or the

"unobtrusive coverage o£ the £inal rites (that)

underscored broadcasting's dignity and maturity in

covering the news" ..(~..:~ Embedded in these comments was a

regard £or the improvisory skills o£ television

journalists, by which they adapted to the events o£

mourning in a way that contradicted the investigatory and

intrusive practices £avored by other members o£ their

trade.

The written press did not go unpraised. Sta££ers at

the three major newsmagazines were lauded £or "getting

everything into their issues in spite o£ incredible

 177

deadline problems": Editorial sta££s tore out huge holes

at the £ront o£ their magazines, with N~~~<&l:s., Lime and

]L,,$.-,-__ N§,~§.,...3'!.n9.._..J!)J?[Link].L,K<;!.Q,or:l;,. add i n g tens 0 £ pag e s o£ £ r esh

type at the last minute. Both 1';"!"e and !!!~_"L.~!!,,<&.~!:<:. were

hailed £or having replated twice - once a£ter Oswald's

murder and once a£ter the Dallas Morning_R~~ published a

photograph o£ Oswald's murder ".'.'. Journalists hailed the

cancellation o£ columns o£ scheduled advertising ••. On

Friday alone, newspapers issued as many as eight "extras"

The press set new sales records, with the N,§'~"XQ£.!:<:,

1".ffi,§.§, sell ing 1,089,000 papers on November 26, nearly

400,000 above its normal sales Magazines were lauded

£or working around Friday a£ternoon deadlines. As the

""these magazines made

over whole sections - in some cases interrupting press

runs to add late developments - and still reached most o£

their readers on time" 4·9 Replating, resetting, redoing

prose accounts were all seen as improvisory practices that

were substantial sacri£ices to the usual order o£ printing

a newspaper or magazine.

Other stories o£ "being the

first .. £ocused on the journalistic "hunch", or the

instinct which guided journalists in their work. A lack o£

Obvious rules for covering the assassination and its

unpredictable circumstances meant that journalists did not

 178

know what to do. Tom Wicker relied on instinct when

always
eard from another reporter that Kennedy had been shot:
he h
One thing I learned that day. I suppose I
already knew it, but that day made i t plain. A
reporter must trust his instinct. When
<Marrianne) Means said those eight words I
never learned who told her - I knew absolutely
that they were true. Everyone did •.. That day a
reporter had none of the ordinary means or time
to check or double-check matters given as fact.
He had to go on what he knew of people he talked
to, what he knew of human reaction, what two
isolated "facts" added to in sum - above all
what he felt in his bones ao

Harry Reasoner's "instincts told him i t would be better

not to broadcast" an item that Oswald had been shot by a

made the trip to Dallas because he thought there might be

trouble ma. Two Dallas newspapers ran editorials calling

for restraint of public sentiments against the President

Reporters confessed journalistic hunches that Dallas

would turn into a "big story": CBS news executives

discussed the possibility of a hostile demonstration in

Dallas at their regular news briefing before the

assassination ~4.

While i t is difficult to retrospectively ascertain

how the journalistic hunch crept into journalists' tales,

the "I told you so" position it implied helped them regain

control of an event whose unpredictability had made it

UnWieldy. In other words, the journalistic hunch or

instinct helped journalists reinstate certainty in their

 179

about the event. In using tales of instinct to

the uncertainty surrounding situations of "being

first··, journalists offset their partial knowledge and

the

authority for the event. The fact that few hunches

generated substantive discussions about the assassination

in the days following Kennedy's shooting suggests the

degree to which political questions were temporarily

suspended by journalists covering the story. But relying

on instinct also had its rewards, as when CBS reporter Dan

Rather urged his network to assign extra reporters to

cover Kennedy's Dallas trip. In at least one account, that

premonition earned him rapid promotion through the ranks

at CBS ~;~;.

As with tales of mishap, embedded within journalists'

stories of triumph was a larger discourse about

professionalism.

lias professional a job . . . as one could care to see" !;!;f;;". An

editorial in grq~d~~~t!EJl magazine noted that the last-

minute reorganization of reporters and the energetic and

creative ways in which they revamped existing set-ups to

meet the pace of the event .. ",as not a job that amateurs

could have done .•. It was a job for professionals" ""7. The

ability to improvise, reorganize and redo, on one hand,

and to anticipate events through instinct, on the other,

 180

were cast by journalists as activity that legitimated them

as pro£essionals a

Thus, stories o:f "being the :first" to a large extent

displayed how journalists valorized improvisory and

instinctual behavior as the true mark o:f the pro:fessional.

Being able to quickly respond to unpredic·ted

circumstances, bend established rules and procedures on a

hunch, and do so correctly were touted as signs o:f

pro£essionalism. Through their stories o:f improvisation,

rede:finition and instinct which held that they had

effectively covered the assassination story, journalists

thus made claims of professionalism for behavior not

necessarily valorized by formalized cues o:f professional

practice. In highlighting instinctual over formalized

dimensions of practice, journalists constructed an

authoritative role for themselves in retelling the

assassination story.

- BE:.I~.~I.!:I E BE.2.I.
Where tales of "being the first·· highlighted the

improvisory and instinctual dimensions o£ journalistic

practice, in tales Or "being the best" journalists

expounded on the range or activities by which they could

do so. Because much o£ the assassination coverage was

structured through discrete units, "being the best" orten

meant excelling in the proressional tasks at stake within

 181

each discrete moment o£ coverage. "Being the best" in

covering Kennedy's shooting meant quick relay~ for

example, while covering his funeral called for reverent,

slOwly-paced and hushed reportage. liThe best .. was

differently reflected in James Reston's condolence column

the day after the assassination than in Frank McGee's

choked-up relay of the news that Kennedy was dead.

For television journalists, in particular, Kennedy~s

funeral became a fruitful institutional stage to spread

tales of "being the best". How television journalists

adapted to the decision to broadcast processions of

mourners generated numerous tales of practice that was

different yet acceptable. For instance, the broadcasting

industry was hailed for having cancelled advertisements,

costing by one estimate some S3m. in direct spending and

ten times that in advertising revenue Its

coverage

was one o£ superlatives - the most people, the

most hours, the biggest losses and the most raw
emotion that broadcasting had ever known m.
Television was complimented for having efficiently "played

to the largest audience in its history" These

appraisals were o£ten set against a background of

professional expertise. As J;l!,o<;Lg_9..~!~:!;:"ln.9. magazine stated:

Were it not for the experience that broadcasters

have acquired in the day-to-day practice of
their form of journalism, their coverage of the
 182

wholly unexpected events of Nov. 22-25 would

have been impossible 6 1 .

One irony behind tales of "being the best" was that

they legitimated what elsewhere might have been considered

lapses in professional behavior. In the 1964 United

Artists a local

reporter was shown rushing into a Dallas television

station, with "you'll excuse me if I'm out of breath

but ... II • The rejoinder, breathlessly delivered,.

constituted his introduction to news of Kennedy's

assassination. In addition to successfully conveying the

import of the news, the delivery suggested how out-of-

place was the collected demeanor of the profeSSional

television commentator. Similarly,. tales of "being the

best" implied that other, possibly unusual, qualities were

required to professionally cover the assassination. In a

special column entitled "If You Can Keep Your Head When

All About You . . . "',

performance of journalists by highlighting their "special

talent ll
and "training". Editor Richard Tobin maintained

that "it took coolness under the fire of highly-charged

events" to carry out one's reportorial tasks Ed:;;:

But "being the best" did not mean the same thing to

all journalists, and no one set of rules characterized all

assassination coverage. This was displayed in the range of

journalists' stories of "being the best," which provided

 183

reporters with alternate backgrounds against which to

spread their tales of superlative practice:

For many, "being the

best" meant "being the most dedicated", or the degree of

personal deprivation accrued in accomplishing one's work

tasks. This ranged from sleep and food deprivation to

affecting a semblance of no emotions. Meg Greenfield,

walking around with other journalists in a ··disembodied,

high-octane state", told of how she did not go home until

Saturday .3. ABC News Division's president said late-night

planning conferences prevented staffers from getting more

than three to four hours of sleep •• , and reporter Bill

Seamans "was forced (after 36 hours) to take a break when

his eyes became so irritated from lack of sleep that he

couldn't force them open all the NBC

correspondent Bill Ryan held back his emotions until he

got of£ the air, where he "cried like hell·· ''''. Wa Iter

Cronkite did not realize until he was relieved from his

anchoring duties that "r was still in my shirtsleeves,

although my secretary hours before had draped my jacket

Over the back of my chair" 6!--7 A sense of dedication, in

each case, was derived from the reporter's ability to

place the public's right to know above basic personal

reqUirements. Dedication thus referenced an absolution of

self in £aee of the news organization!'s needs.

 184

!:l.E I N_(;_'LJ:!E:_" MOJE_lI.YllAN " • For others "being the best"

constituted "being the most human," or the ability to

momentarily abandon one's professional demeanor. NBC's

Frank McGee, ::r.b.'?__...tJ..~XL_.Y.£L~._T_im§!.§: Tom Wicker and CBS's

Walter Cronkite both became choked up while relaying news

of Kennedy's death. As Cronkite relayed the news to the

audience, "his voice broke with emotion and he wiped a

tear from his eye" ''''s. He removed his eyeglasses, then put

them back on in a distracted fashion. In another incident,

Cronkite delighted telling how, on his first break from

anchoring the Kennedy shooting, he answered a studio phone

whose caller admonished CBS for allowing Cronkite to

anchor the broaadcast. 'This is Walter Cronkite,' he said

angrily, 'and you're a goddamned idiot'. Then he flung the

receiver down &~. Journalists used these tales to work out

the personal and professional incongruities imposed by the

assassination coverage, an important dimension of

consolidating themselves as an interpretive community.

dwelled on technology in many of their stories, with

"being the best" constituting "being the most

technologically adept" • These stories conveyed

journalists' triumphs over the technologies where they

worked. Often this meant utilizing technologies other

than one's own in generating stories~ Watching television

 185

coverage from the Dallas-Ft. Worth airport, Tom Wicker

incorporated an eyewitness interview it showed into his

prose account of Kennedy's shooting 70. NBC's Frank McGee

cradled a telephone in his hand while on-air and repeated

verbatim the words of a correspondent on the other end

Press reporters huddled around radios while waiting for

information outside of Parkland Hospital

Mention of technology reflected how journalists were

able to carry out their tasks despite technological

limitations. Tom Wicker made reference to the fact that he

was without a notebook that day in Dallas NBC

Correspondent Bill Ryan made the same point when he

remembered the precise conditions of the flash studio, and

its "'lack of technical sophistication"';

We didn't even have a regular news studio. We

had to go to what they called the flash studio
in New York, a little room where they had one
black-and-white camera set up 7 4 .

References to instruments of technology - the notepads,

pencils, cameras or studios - were invoked by journalists

as reminders that professionalism did exist. They suggest

that journalists tried to be professional about their

assassination coverage. The ways reporters worked to

offset the primitive state of the media thus formed one

cornerstone to discussions of professionalism. Journalists

saw themselves legitimated as professionals because they

had mastered the limitations of technology, using their

 186

acumen to make technology work for them. Such claims were

not incidental to establishing their authority in

retelling the assassination.

Tales of ""being the best"" thereby legitimated a range

of practices by which journalists made claims to

journalistic professionalism. In tales of "being the

best, II journalists expanded the range or improvisory and

instinctual activities by which they continued to be

labelled professional.

Tales of ""being the only"" constituted the stage by

which journalists backgrounded themselves as individual

reporters. They conveyed how journalists integrated

themselves into situations which valorized instinctual

behavior over formalized professional cues. "Being the

only" told the tale of individual moves of adaptation to

improvisory cues of professionalism. To a large extent,

these tales marked the personalities that would emerge as

celebrities in conjunction with the assassination story.

Stories of "being the only" allowed journalists to

valorize the tales and practices o£ certain repor"cers and

news organizations over others~ In daily news I'being the

only" tends to be a temporary category, where a

journalist's interest in a story is validated by other

journalists doing simi~ar stories. Thus by the Friday

 187

afternoon o£ the assassination,. there would be many

con£irmations of Kennedy's death. Nevertheless, the

reporters who confirmed i t first would be accorded special

stature. For a time,. because of the aforementioned

telephone dispute, UPI's Merriman Smith was the only

reporter to have relayed news of the President's shooting.

Said William Manchester:

(The) bulletin was on the UPI printer at 12.34,

two minutes before the President's car reached
Parkland. Before eyewitnesses could collect
themselves, i t was being beamed around the
world. To those who tend to believe everything
they hear and read, the figure of three (shots)
seemed to have the sanction of authority and
many who had been in the plaza and had thought
they heard only two reports later corrected
their memories 7 5 .

That this was altered once the pool car reached public

telephones did not affect the stature derived from the

fact that Smith had for a time been .. the only reporter" to

convey the news of Kennedy's shooting. He would later win

the Pulitzer prize for his coverage, and the UPI

reproduced his account in its in-house organ !!£LJ3_~[Link]:.e£..

It called i t "an historical memento ••• for what it shows

about how a top craftsman dealt with the fastest-breaking

news story o£ his generation"

Another well-known tale of "being the only" was found

in the activities of KRLD-News (and CBS affiliate)

director Eddie Barker, who initially reported that Kennedy

was dead. He was at the Trade Mart when Kennedy was shot:
 188

A doctor I know who is on the staff at Parkland

Hospital came to me, and he was crying •.. He had
learned that President Kennedy was dead. When I
announced this over the air, the network
panicked. No official announcement had yet been
made, and the validity of my source was
questioned. However I knew that this man was
trustworthy, so I kept repeating that the
President was dead 7 7

Barker l s decision to announce the President's death

without official confirmation was, in one observer's eyes,

possibly .. the most important journalistic event of the

period ••• one of the greatest snap evaluations of a source

in the history of broadcast journalism" 7_.

Another risky practice which generated a similar tale

of "being the only" was employed by CBS reporter Dan

Rather, then stationed in Dallas along the motorcade

route .. Rather was one of the first reporters to confirm

Kennedy's death. His account of how he did so went as

follows:

Keep in mind that I had heard no shots. I didn't

know what was wrong. I only knew that something
appeared to be very wrong ... and so I began
running, flat out running, sprinting as hard as
I could the four blocks to our [Link] .•. I got
through to Parkland Hospital. And the
switchboard operator was not panicked but not
calm. And very quickly she told me it was her
understanding that that the President had been
shot, and was perhaps dead. And I'll never
forget her saying that. And I followed up with
that, and tried to talk to one of the doctors
and a priest at the hospital, bath of whom said
that the President was dead. But nobody had said
this officially 7 .
 189

The account prompted CBS to relay unofficial reports that

Kennedy had been confirmed dead, thereby earning for

Rather the title of "being the only" reporter to do so

Other stories o£ "being the only" remained exclusives

long after the events which generated them. Walter

Cronkite's removal of his eyeglasses in order to shed a

tear set up the outer parameters by which it was possible

to anchor the news, yet few journalists looked upon it as

behavior to be emulated. Thomas Thompson's exclusive

interview of Oswald's wife and mother, held before the

police had found them, put him "high on the list of 1_t!.'!l,

interviews" E-l :I. , while circumstances prevented other

reporters from generating similar stories. Theodore

White's post-funeral discussion with Jackie Kennedy,

naming the Kennedy reign "Camelot'", was hailed for years

afterward by the journalistic community In that

interview, Jackie Kennedy revealed that her husband liked

to play the record of "Camelot" before going to bed.

Sometimes '"being the only" offered journalists a way

to turn mishaps into triumphs. Harry Reasoner was working

at the CBS anchor desk the morning that Oswald was

murdered:

At the moment Oswald was shot, CBS was

broadcasting a live report from
Washington ••• Reasoner, who was watching the
Oswald story on a closed-circuit monitor, saw it
happen - or saw, at least, that something had
happened. Although seldom given to emotional
 190

outbursts, Reasoner began jumping up and down in

his chair, screaming for the cant~ol room to
switch to Dallas. A few seconds later, the
switch was made •.. Thanks to videotape, CBS soon
was able to broadcast an 'instant replay' of the
shooting F...... ::~.

Interestingly, the fact that CBS IImissed'" original

coverage of the event became intriguing from an

institutional point of view, because the scene was

recorded by the CBS camera-person but was not replayed on

national television until after the fact. The "presence"

of journalists thus oddly existed but was not

institutionally legitimated or supported.

Journalists also told more literal tales of "being

the only": Richard Stolley was "the only reporter" among

Secret Serv ice agents to v iew the Zapruder film 1M.; Henry

Brandon the only foreign correspondent in Dallas on

November 22 James Altgens the only professional

cameraperson to catch spot pictures of Kennedy's shooting

Entwined within these tales was the notion of having

left one's personal signature on history: That Tom Pettit

"made TV history at the scene of the shooting of Oswald"

was possible because he had been "the only television

reporter" on live television &7 This suggests that

assassination memories were £ormed by instinctual and

improvisory behavior which was not followed by other

reporters.
 191

Thus journalistic tales about covering the

assassination reveal much about existing parameters of

journalistic practice at the time. While covering the

assassination was not necessarily outlined by formalized

professional codes, in their tales of mishap journalists

aired concerns about the insufficiency of such codes. In

their stories of triumph, they valorized on-the-spot

judgment calls as the mark of the true professional. They

replayed the event in three categories of tales: One

stories o£ '·being the first" - opened up formalized codes

of professional behavior and offered journalists

instinctual and improvisory ways to do their work; a

second - stories of "being the best" - expounded upon the

range of activities by which it was possible to do so; a

third - stories o£ "being the only" - brought individual

journalists in contact with improvisory codes and cues of

professionalism. In all of these tales were entrenched

different notions about technology, professionalism and

the appropriate boundaries of journalistic practice and

authority. Interestingly enough, the ability to rearrange

existing standards was made possible by the informal

networks connecting reporters. This helped strengthen

their status as an independent interpretive community,

that relied on the circulation of narratives through the

media for collective authentication of its members.

 192

AS?F_$.?'JN.G_...g.Q'ygP&GjL._TJ:I.B.Q\[Link]~pFgSS.I Ql'l\b.£QR U liB.

These pages have suggested that journalists assessed

their coverage of the assassination story in two main

ways: They o£ten invoked the same attributes o£ coverage

to generate totally opposite appraisals o£ per£ormance.

For example, the technology o£ television was hailed £or

producing live coverage of Oswald's murder, yet its

instruments - the cables, microphones and cameras - were

held responsible £or £acilitating his death.

This was especially borne out in trade publications

and professional forums, where the ambivalence over

journalists' coverage was linked to the story's complex

nature. Trade publications particularly concentrated on

the demand £or in£ormation that did not let up through the

weekend. This was complicated by the £act that television

journalism was coming into its own as a legitimate medium

£or news. One critic lamented that "broadcasting resembles

the little girl in the nursery rhyme. When it is bad, i t

is horrid. But when i t is good i t is very very good"

For a community trying to legitimate itsel£ as an

authorized interpretive group, these circumstances made

pro£essional [Link] a critical part o£ retellings.

For the £irst year a£ter Kennedy's death, the

assassination story occupied nearly every pro£essional

 193

journalistic forum. During their 1963/64 meetings, the

ASNE (American Society for Newspaper Editors) , NAB

<National Association of Broadcasters), and the Radio and

Television News Directors Association each independently

considered what would have constituted appropriate

coverage of the Kennedy assassination. Trade and semi-

devoted special sections to the

assassination .. The 1964 meetings of the Association for

Education in Journalism dedicated a plenary session to

journalism and the trial of Jack Ruby

On one hand l these forums lauded the assassination

co v er age. The g.Ql_\.!.1!l12J.s.L_Lq.'d.:r.!!~J,.;L.§!.'!_ ...R",_yJ§';1. sa i d t hat

Like no other events before, the occurrences o£

November 22 to 25, 1963, belonged to journalism,
and specifically to the national organs of
journal ism ',t)O

In its annual report, the Associated Press called the

assassination the "major national news event of 1963" and

boasted that the AP had "thrown more resources into

covering the assassination than any single news-event in

its history" '2) :l

An editorial in

called the story .. the most amazing pe£ormance by

newspapers, radio and television that the world has ever

 194

witnessed" Sel£-congratulatory advertisements. £illed

the pages o£

magazines ..

The broadcast media received special attention.

!}... oaQ£~§j;:j._D.g. magazine claimed that "in those £our terrible

days, television came o£ age and radio reasserted its

capacity to move to history where it happens" ''''0. Radio

was hailed £or broadcasting over 80 hours o£ coverage

The radio-television industry received a special Peabody

Award Televised coverage o£ the £uneral was voted the

best £oreign program o£ the year by the British Guild o£

Television Producers and Directors 9&. The NAB sent its

subscribers a £ull-page newspaper advertisement that

echoed praise accorded the broadcasting [Link] '1>"7.

Embedded within these appraisals was journalists~

recognition of a new form of news coverage.

£ull emergence o£ a televised documentary £orm

(in which) the conditions which de£ine the role
and £unction o£ the artist and reporter in
television journalism have begun to take shape
'ii~e

Indeed, how journalists covered the assassination story

would determine the parameters o£ similar stories in later

years : Covering Kennedyls assassination, £or instance,

taught journalists how to approach assassination attempts

on Gerald Ford or Ronald Reagan Coverage o£ Kennedy's

 195

funeral showed journalists how to cover the funeral of

Egyptian President Anwar Sadat

Yet in many professional quarters grumblings had

begun to circulate about the problems caused by

journalists' assassination coverage. For every attribute~

there was a violation:

the central question is whether the best

tradition of the press is good enough ... The
lesson of Dallas is actually an old one in
responsible journalism: Reporting is not
democratic to the point that everything posing
as fact has equal status 101

Coverage of the Oswald case drew the greatest criticism.

Journalists faulted themselves for not having been easily

identifiable to local police~ possessing intrusive

equipment and arriving in numbers too large for the police

to handle. While not the first event to do so, Oswald's

homicide and its coverage shed light on the problematic

boundaries surrounding journalistic obligations, rights

and privileges in covering criminal cases.

The Warren Commission Report played an active part in

crystallizing these problems for members o:f the

journalistic community. In a special section called "The

Activity of Newsmen," i t traced the events leading up to

Oswald's murder:

In the lobby of the third floor, television

cameramen set up two large cameras and
 195

£loodlight in strategic positions that gave them

a sweep Ox the corrridor in either direction.
Technicians stretched their television cables
into and out o£ o££ices, running some o£ them
out o£ the windows o£ a deputy chie£'s o££ice
and down the side o£ the building. Men with
newsreel cameras, still cameras and microphones,
more mobile than the television cameramen, moved
back and £orth seeking in£ormation and
opportunities for interviews. Newsmen wandered
into the o££ices o£ other bureaus located on the
third £loor, sat on desks and used police
telephones; indeed, one reporter admits hiding a
telephone behind a desk so that he would have
exclusive access to it i£ something
developed ... The corridor became so jammed that
policemen and newsmen had to push and shove i£
they wanted to get through, stepping over
cables, wires and tripods'· :1.0;::::.

A detective was quoted as saying that the journalists were

"asked to stand back and stay back but it wouldn't do much

good, and they would push £orward and you had to hold them

o££ physically The press and television people just

took over'" :t C>~~ When Oswald was brought into view o£ the

journalists, "his escorts ••. had to push their way through

the newsmen who sought to surround them ••. when (he)

appeared, the newsmen turned their camera on him. thrust

microphones at his £ace and shouted questions at him"

The Report concluded that partial responsibility £or

Oswald's death "must be borne by the news media II :l(.")e~ and

it called on journalists to implement a new code o£

ethics.

Such an idea was already circulating among

journalists. In January o£ 1954, ASNE association head

 197

Herbert Brucker had plaintively called £or media curbs.

the Press Shapes the News", he stated that

"pressure £rom the press ... had set the stage £or (Oswald's

killing, with) ... little doubt that television and the

press must bear a share o£ the blame"

Independently considering where - and i£ - they had

gone wrong in covering Oswald's murder, trade publications

"judgment by television" '07. A £orum conducted in 1964 by

g_l,!r:[§ILt. magazine, entitled "The Li£e and Death o£ John F.

Kennedy," concluded with a £inal section called "Trial By

Mass Media", which asked:

in their competitive eagerness to report every

aspect o£ the story, did the media ignore and
trample the rights of Kennedy~s accused
assassin? :!.Og.

CBS President Frank Stanton o££ered monies to the

Brookings Institute to establish a voluntary inter-media

code o£ £air practices In October o£ 1964, the ASNE

convened a meeting o£ 17 top news organizations

including the American Newspaper Publishers o£ America

(ANPA), Associated Press Managing Editors Association,

Sigma Delta Chi, NAB, UPI, National Press Photographers

Association and the Radio and Television News Directors

ASSOCiation - to discuss complaints about journalistic

practice Ten days later, the group issued a statement

 198

that warily conceded the news media's in£luence over

events. It echoed earlier reservations about journalistic

practice voiced by the ASNE:

1£ developing smaller TV cameras is beyond our

control, we can certainly try by our own example
to teach the electronic newsmen larger manners
and a deeper understanding o£ the basic truth
that £reedom o£ in£ormation is not an unlimited
license to trample on individual rights ••••

While allowing £or pooled coverage under certain

circumstances, the statement stopped short o£ permitting

:I. :I. '$~
codes or other external bars on media performance

The idea that external £orces tNould regulate

journalism seemed anathema to the notion o£ a free press.

A !r!_'Ls;..hi. !l9_toiL_E..Q§_t editor urged journalistic sel£-restraint

over 'magic codes' to curb excesses typical of Dallas 11$.

Ne~. ____'('?Sk __I.J,l'!!?s editors Turner Catledge and Cli£ton Daniel

separately called on members o£ the press corps to use

their own judgment in covering similar events The

president o£ the Associated Press Managing Editors

Association complained that the Warren Commission should

have lauded the press instead o£ scoring it :1. :l ~'5

And

teleVision reporter Gabe Pressman, in

9J,!.§!£:\;_""rl,.,y. article about ethics, journalism and the Kennedy

assassination, complained that his medium was being used

as a scapegoat:

Because we have the capacity o£ telling a story

e££iciently. dramatically and with a maximum
amount o£ impact - because we have the ability
 199

to satisfy the need of the American public for

instantaneous journalism in this modern age
does it follow that we have to be paralyzed
because people react badly? 11&

published under the title "The Responsible Reporter", the

article considered whether journalists could carry out

their job without intruding on others~ despite their

"cumbersome equipment". It suggested directing the focus

of journalism to

the matter of reportorial taste and jUdgment, as

well as the respect for the individual in an
open society. Since Dallas, many have voiced
their concerns about these issues :I. :1.7.

One interesting interchange in the article mentioned that

television~s newness magnified the irritation caused by

television cameras: In derense, Pressman said that

camera is used as a newspaperman uses his pad and pencil.

And yet, the camera is the most faithful reporter we have.

The video-tapes don't lie and the film doesn"'t lie ll

:1. :1, ....3

Unquestioned here were two basic suppositions about this

newly evolving medium for news: One was the notion that

the camera equipment to which Pressman and others referred

made for a better journalism; the other was the suggestion

that television provided a more truthful and hence

authoritative form of reportage. Whether Ruby shot Oswald,

for instance" was not debatable, for the camera had

reCorded it. Yet these assumptions were largely

 200

unproblematized in most broadcasters· accounts o£ their

_assassination coverage.

It is worth noting that legal quarters picked up the

controversy about journalistic performance and condemned

the press' insistence on the right to know. They claimed

that it had seriously interfered with Oswald's right to a

free and private trial and hampered police efforts to

transfer the accused. The director of the American Civil

Liberties Union held that Oswald was '"tried and convicted

many times over in the newspapers, on the radio and over

television" When Jack Ruby's trial necessitated quick

decisions about acceptable parameters of press coverage,

District Judge Joe Brown consulted only with press

representatives before ruling to prohibit television,

radio and still photographers from the courtroom. Said

Brown:

The microphone and the television camera in open

court are intrusions that no judge or defendant
should have to put up with. There is enough ham
acting by prosecutors, defense lawyers and even
judges without this further invitation.
Reporters bearing pads and pencils,
photographers carrying candid cameras are
enough. They give the public the news the public
is entitled to 1 2 0 .

Television journalists grumbled about the judge's

decision, but generally did little else to contest it.

Their reluctance to act possibly stemmed from the salience

Of more general criticism about their coverage o£ Oswald's
 201

murder. Indeed, the fact that Oswald's murder generated

two opposite appraisals o£ journalistic practice among

journalists is interesting: Some observers used attributes

of coverage to condemn journalism; others used the sarlle

attributes to hail it. The instruments o£ technology

cameras, cables, micrQphones both facilitated live

coverage and Itlere held responsible for creating

circumstances which led to Oswald's death. This seems to

suggest that journalists used instruments to be

professional, but unthought£ully-used instruments were a

hindrance.

At stake within professional assessment was a larger

discourse about the relationship between professionalism

and technology: Questions over I>Jhether journalists

constituted better professionals by succumbing to

technology or mastering it inflected debates not only

about coverage o£ the Oswald homicide but also more

general discussions about the tenor of coverage of

Kennedy"s assassination. In a sense, then, discussions

about Oswald's homicide provided a microcosm of larger

debates evolving across media about journalism and the

assassination story.

How the Oswald imbroglio figured in journalists"

tales o£ triumph and mishap about the assassination

 202

reveals much about the embedded discourses of technology.

professionalism, and journalistic authority through which

journalists sought to position themselves as authorized

spokespeople for the events in Dallas. Because the

specific events of Kennedy's death embedded problems of

journalistic authority in much of the assassination

coverage, retelling the journalists' part in covering the

story called for reconstructions of their performances as

effective professional triumphs or understandable - but

salvageable professional mishaps on the part of

journalistic performers. This took place both in the mass

media and trade publications in the months immediately

following Kennedy's death.

Through their tales of triumph and mishap,

journalists thus set the stage for self-authorization via

discourse about professionalism. Journalists' retellings

gave reporters a way to cast their hunches and improvisory

behavior as the mark of a "true" professional. On one

hand, the fact that this discourse was set up through

tales of "being the first", lithe best" and Itthe only"

underscored how little journalistic pro£essionalism had

moved from baser notions of competition. The discourse by

Which journalists legitimated themselves had individual

dimensions, in that it served as a springboard for certain

reporters' careersp Yet in a larger sense, it had

 203

collective dimensions too, for i t helped to legitimate

journalists as prof"esssionals and to uphold the

pro£essionalism of television journalists. In such a

light, it made sense for journalists to cast their actions

as the mark of professionals. Their tales functioned as an

antidote to basically insu££icient cues of formal

practice.

Their ability to do so depended largely on

technology. Technology was seen as facilitating and

hindering - the emergence of collective and individual

professional identities. It allowed journalists to hold

onto professional identities at the same time as it

hindered them from doing so. This embedded the possibility

of forwarding alternate professional practices within a

larger discourse about technology, with technology seen by

journalists as allowing them to cast improvisory behavior

as professional.

It is within such a discourse about technology that

two distinct assessments of assassination coverage

simUltaneously prevailed. These assessments displayed the

extent to which the acceptable parameters of journalistic

professionalism were still being debated at the time of

the assassination. personified by the Warren

Commission and court decisions barring television cameras

from courtrooms, emphasized the foibles of television. It

 204

advanced the view that journalistic coverage had extended

beyond its appropriate limits in covering the

assassination, acting irresponsibly and intrusively in

covering the Oswald homicide, in particular. Such a point

which underscored television's invasion of the rights of

the accused- overturned the technological base which

television journalists had used to legitimate themselves.

For journalists to agree with it would have been

tantamount to invalidating those qualities distinguishing

television journalism from print. In other words, the

imbroglio about Oswald threatened to upset the shaky

legitimacy of television practitioners.

Thus most journalists preferred the second argument,

which emphasized the attributes o£ television. They

regarded the assassination coverage as a positive

enhancement of the professionalism of journalists, laying

testimony to different standards of professional behavior.

Its proponents saw appropriate journalistic performance as

journalists' successful adaptation to the new technology

of television. This story about the Oswald murder

prevailed, showing how technology was constructed as

working ultimately to journalists' advantage.

In other words, over time the appraisal which

Criticized television journalists for their coverage of

the Oswald story has more or less disappeared £rom

 205

journalistic accounts. This is because it threatened the

legitimacy of televisionS' equating questions about

journalistic practice with an assault on ·television

technology and television journalism. This means that

larger concerns about legitimating television have thereby

promoted the collective forgetting of the Oswald

imbroglio. Memories of the Oswald story have been instead

recast as narratives legitimating the scoop of having

caught the murder on live television. They uphold the

professionalism of journalists, as redefined by television

technology.

This chapter has examined how the professional

assessments of assassination coverage entwined the role of

television technology within journalists" attempts to

promote themselves as professionals. Television technology

offered journalists alternate ways of repairing to

professionaliBm~ by helping them to classify activities

realized by loosely-defined improvisory standards as

professional. This discourse thus helped to consolidate

the journalistic community around certain issues central

to its professionalism. Such pro£essional assessments

upheld journalists as an interpretive community, setting

out certain collective notions about the improvisory and

instinctive nature of their practices, their emphasis on

informal networks and the innovative ways in which they

 206

mastered technology. Professional assessment - in both the

-mass media and trade publications - has thereby signalled

what i t mesns for journalists to speak authoritatively

about the assassination. It embedded notions of authority

in professionalism and technology, and in the tales by

which their importance was narratively constructed,

setting up an effective base for assassination memories to

spring forth over time and space.

1 Darwin Payne, "The Press Corps and the Kennedy

Assass i na t ion," ;r2.'dL'l.'l)'J..§.!~L!:1.Q!'-'2.9F ,,!pll.§. (F e bur a r y 197 0), p.

" Tom Wicker, quoted in Goddard Lieberson (ed.), ;[I.!L:._..h.'?.

\!l§....R~)!l.§!l!l.l2.§.L..JIil!l.
(New York: Atheneum, 1965), p. 223.
'" Tom Wicker, "That Day in Dallas," Ii.In_~§....I.!'_!.!s. (12/63).
'. Max Ascoli,"Our New President," (Editorial), It.§!.
~9£t,.",.F. (12/19/63), p. 14.
'" !.!2..id., p. 16.
'" Edit.Q.L.§.!}.sLr.Y..Q.!"';i,,§.h.~:.;:. (11/30/63), p. 16.
'7 I ..bi.9.. p. 16.
a ~Fo~aca~tin~ (12/2/63), p. 37.
" bif.§.. <11/29/63), p. 24.
10 Richard Stolley, "The Greatest Home Movie Ever Hade,"
!;:;'§,9.)l..iL~. (11/73), p. 134 •
• , Payne, 1970, p. 8, p. 26 •
• " "Professionalism in News Photography," I.h.~.....~.'[Link]..t
(November, 1968), p. 55.
". Ruth Leeds Love, "The Business of Television and the
Black Weekend" in Bradley Greenberg and Ed.,in Parker, I.h.~
K"'.!!.!:l~9'y_ A s s<!.§.§.i na 1;, i [Link].l:!.,o d th!2....b m~i£§!!l..J2.!!!?.liS'. (P a 1 0
Alto:Stanford University Press, 1965) p. 84.
,(.4 Charles Roberts, "Eyewitness in Dallas," !,!.~.~.§.~.§.§k
12/5/66), p. 26.
",; Wi 11 i a m Man ches t e r, I h ~_.R~~t.h......Q.f....1L..P..:.;: e§.;L.. '::!,~!}..1;.. (N ew Yo r k :
Harper and Row, 1967), p. 191.
y'G Charles Roberts, ._. The Truth_...........................................
__.................... About the_ ............... Assassination
_.................._..........._....- (New
ork: Grosset and Dunlap, 1967), pp. 12-13.
:1.7 Ch
arIes Roberts, 1967, pp. 12-13.
:l.S~
1l2.!...<l., p. 13, p. 15.
o. Roberts, 1967.
,,,, Ibis!., p. 129.
 207

,,, Charles Roberts, "Eyewitness in Dallas," (12/5/66), p.

26.
s;;::: Wick er, N'§~_MY..Q;r~!5_M_I_-im.§.§. (11/23/63),. p. 2 ..
"" ··The Marxist Marine," !'I"'~.'?_,,!§.§l.~. (12/2/63), p. 27.
e.4 N~__ Y_Q.!:J5M. ._I.!J!!:.~'§. (11/25/63),. p. i.
" .. Richard Tobin, "If You Can Keep Your Head When All
Abou t You,·· ~~.j;,l,g::9_~Y.....R.§lY.1..§.~!. (121 14 1(3), p. 54 •
• _ New York Times (11/27/63).
",., i1-;';y';;··i1;;'-':;;:;;;;;-"The Long Vig il,·· IhLE§'.29S..t.§1.E
(12/19/63), pp. 16-7.
~,<, Herbert Brucker, "When the Press Shapes the News,"
§.?J:,.I,lX.9.§(lcJ3.§l.y.:L",.'<1. (1/11 1 (4), pp. 75 - 7 6. Br u ck er he 1 d
broadcasting equipment responsible for creating the sense
of intrusion, paralleling it with an earlier incident that
had surrounded the introduction of radio - the 1937 trial
of Bruno Richard Hauptmann for the kidnap-murder of the
Lindbergh baby: "The new medium of radio, together with
news photographers' flashbulbs made a circus of the trial"
(p. 77). Interestingly, new media are often legitimated
through discussions of changing borders between private
and public space.
~::'~ William Rivers, "The Press and the l\ssassination" in
Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 57.
~o Roberts, 1967, p. 19.
,,, Richard Van der Karr, '"How Dallas TV Stations Covered
Ken n ed y Sh 0 ot i n g ," ,:r-':!.ll.X.!'.§'j,.J.'?.!'!...s.l.~.;,-.j;,.",,_:rj,.y'. 4 2 (1 9(5), p. 647.
'0'" All quoted in Alan Robinson, '·Reporting the Death of
JF K,.. I.b-.§l_.P'h;i._bf!.§'.lpf)j,i!.._I"UH!i.12§'F.. (11 1 22 1 88), p. 8 E •
'"'' Gary Paul Gates, .tiFt;,1!!.§'. (New York: Harper and Row,
1978), p. 3.
3 4 Manchester, 1967, p. 168.
3m Tom Pettit, '·The Television Story in Dallas," in
Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 66.
'"'" !2.;:2.,,!dc"!..st~..!l9. (12/2/63), p. 42.
3 7 Wilbur Schramm, "Communication in Crisis," in Greenberg
and Parker, p.3.
~. One journalist with such a precedent was David
Brinkley, who recalled having mispronounced the word
"cortege" during the broadcast of F.D.R.'s funeral 18
years earlier. Left alone in NBC's Washington office when
word arrived that Roosevelt had died, the then 25-year-old
correspondent had been reprimanded for his gaffe
(Manchester, 1967, p. 144). The experience haunted him
While covering Kennedy's funeral.
3 . Robert MacNeil, NBC News (11/22/63).
'<" Van der Karr, 1965-;-P:--647.
'u Meg Greenfield, "The ~)ay Things Really Were," H§,_~.§.!;1.§,_Ell!:.
(11/28/88), p. 98.
<.", Bill Ryan quoted in Robinson, I.b-.§_ ...[Link]~.9.!"j,[Link].§.
I!!QHt12§'E., p. 8E.
 208

'.' '" Br u c k er, e.s,-t,'!'!E.~_K,,_y_j,._~I:1., 1964 , P • 77.

44· Tobin, :3at!!LsL~ Review, 1963, p. 53; !?.l'oac!s:_~~_tj._!:!g.,
1963, p. 54.
'.'" Tab in, e,,,,_t.uL<::l_,,,.Y_. _I5_"_Y_:h-"~_, 1 9 6 3 , p. 53 •
4" Ed :i,J::9L__"!.nE__ £'!'!.Q.J..l§1l!?.;: (11/30/63), P • 6.
4· 7 II T he A s sa as ina t i on Q.9_!..H.J!!.Q..:1.~...J_Q.Y...~D-_~J_.t.'§.!£L.".R§;.Y_~ ~.~
II..

(Winter, 1964), p. 20.

4" Ibid, p. 20.
,.'" Ibid, p. 24.
"'0 i;;-;'-Wicker, "A Reporter Must Trust His Instinct,"
~tuFd",'y_ ...B.§'-'L:i..,=-l'!.. (1/11/64), p. 81. The problematic nature
of relying on instinct was conveyed in Jim Bishop's
reconstruction of the same scene: "Wicker hurried a little
and caught up to Hugh Sidey of Ti!JI.§!. magazine. 'Hugh,' he
said, puffing. 'The President is dead. Just announced on
the radio. I don't know who announced i t but i t sounded
official to me.' Sidey paused. He looked at Wicker and
studied the ground under his feet. They went on. Something
which 'sounds official' meets none of the requirements of
j ourna I ism" (J i m Bi shop, Il:!-'2___ J?-"!.l"-J<;.§!_!l!:'_",,s:l_Y.. ___W.~§._J2.I:>_o_t. (New
York: Bantam Books, 1968), p. 264).
~~ Gates, 1978, p. 9~
t50!'? [Link].!., p • 38 .
"''' 1;.1 a rr'§!!L ..9.o.'!!.mi.s s ;!._o.!l....R§!,p.2E.t., 1964 , p. 41.
5~1' !?!,o~g..£.9.:_i?.t .!Jl£1:. (12/2/63).. p .. 40 ..
=s Gates, 1978, p. 10.
"6 Tob in. e-"!1,"_1'.B-"!.:LB e :[;;'_"'1'l.. 1 963 , P • 53 •
5"1' ~;[2.~g9._~.e..t. . .tD-_g. (12/2 / 63).. P .. 108 ..
l'!5r~ "'The Assassination,'" g.Q1)d.~.Q..~.5L...J.Q..Y. Lr.t:?!J.:.A§.!!! __~~vi_~.~., 1964,
p. 18.
~.~'ii-) ~_:r_Q.~9..~~§!:_!...1l9. (12/2/63),. P. 36 .
G" To bin, e,,,,.t.1lE9.-"!Y_!Le..Y.l- e",., 1 963 , p. 53.
Eo :t. ~;r.Q.~st£.:.~§J; . ~J1:g. (12/2/63) ~ P • 108.
~:;.z Tobin~ ;?atl:!..~...9...§.'y.._Revi'S:w~ 1963, p. 53"
,,,. Greenfield, ~_",\,!_~_I)l_""-§.~., 1988, p. 98.
G__ ~.;:.Q",dC;SHl'.t.;L..!:,_g. (12/2/63), P • 38.
e.", Elmer Lower, "A Television Networ'k Gathers the News,"
in Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 68.
'("'" Bill Ryan quoted in Robinson, P.l:t;!,J,i:'d~~.pl:t;!,,~ngu:i,_L'll:.
11/22/88), p. 8E.
"'7 Walter Cronkite quoted in "Ten Years Later: Where Were
~ou?" E"-£l1lJ..re_ (1/73), p. 136.
'.l !J:~j&, p. 105.
~~ Gates, 1978, p. 6.
7CI W' k
'7 " 1 C er, ~!:,j:,,\'!£S!.S!.y__F.l.""v ;L~_'i' 1964 • P • 81.
7 a: F Frank McGee ,. __ NBC
._... News (11/22/63).
M _ . . MH . . . _ .. _ _ H •••••

( 1 9 -..Q.1lL. . R_"'..Y. §_..__;L..!l..__!i~ '!'_'2-'!!.Q,E.H:" Un i ted Art i s ts Doc u men t a ry

64) .
7<:0 Wicker, $,,,,,t.!,!E9_,,,y_Rey.l&!i, 1964, p. 81.
 209

7''' Bill R Ya n quo t ed in Rob ins on , i2!:Lt±..~9.§'±l?J:L~..~_j:J}Sl!'!.t!:.§'.!:.•

198 8 , p. 8E.
7'~ Manchester, 1967, p. 168.
7'''' UPI--B.§'.l?QX.t..§'.X.. (11/28/63), quoted in gsL:[Link].....",.!}-,;L...i2!,!pli§.!:L~.£
(11/30/63), p. 7.
77' Quoted in Van der Karr. 1965, p. 647.
"" Ibid, p. 647.
7''' O';;;:;··R a th er quo ted i n '!.E~.';'_~._.LL..m.§'.......g§!~§.!'!e~.£..~..<!, Su s ski n d
Company (11/21/88).
eO The £act that this was not in £act Rather's £eat, but
instead a narrative adjustment introduced in order to
accomodate Rather's celebrity status, is discussed in
Chapter Eight.
''" Philip B. Kunhardt Jr., bi£e....._t!:l.......,g."'.m.~lQ.t. (Boston:
Little, Brown and Company, 1988), pp. 13-4.
aZ I!?L<!, p • 14 •
e3 Gates, 1978, p. B.
8'" Stolley, Es;.ill!...i,..!:.~, 1973, p. 134.
,,~ Manchester, 1967, p. 38 .
.,'" "Lone 'Pro' on Scene Where JFK ~Jas Shot," !;...c!..:h1.Q£.....i?.!!9.
Pub~~§h~:r. (12/7/63), p. 11.
li.~7 ~J;:'ga.9..9_~§...[Link]....9~ (12/2/63),. p. 42.
,,,. Brucker, ~9tl!X9<\Y_B..~..yJ..~.l'!.. , 1964, p. 77.
89 O££icial Minutes o£ the 1964 Convention, Association
for Education in Journal ism,. ~g_ld.!.:n.9"l,;h~§:.!:!L'H.@.1J_~H:rJ._t2HF-!.Y.H (Winter,.
1965), p.152.
':."'1(:1 "The Assassination'·,. g.9..J..J.:L~..Q.~H~._:J"g_ld£"!lal_:h.§'.!'LJ:t~Hie~., 1964,.
p. 5.
'9 :t. N.~.~_._..¥9..~;:J5H. . .J'_.t.)n.§t§. ( 3/ 28/64),. P • 16 .
""" ;_<!..iiQL...i'!.mL"p'..,!p_±J..."'..h.§'.x.. (11/30/63), p. 6.
"i:~J'J !l;:Q'§LQ.f:.~.§~t!.~I].g. (12 J 2 J 63) ~ P • 108 .
94. ~!:~Q.~.9.:£~.§.t.j.:.n..9:. (12 J 2 J 6 3) ~ P • 36.
""':'5 N_§tl.:i. ._X.9.};:Js~_.IJ ID:.~§.. (4/30/64) ~ p. 71.
9£\. N§:.~~.:t._X.9..~J5 . __I_~.m.§§>_ (12 / 16 J 64) ~ P • 21.
"''7 §,,£...o_'!.[Link] ,,1J..fl...9.. (12/ 2 / 6 3), p. 51.
'.,,, Gabe Pressman, R. L. Shayon and R. Schulman, "The
Res pon sib 1 e Repor ter ," I§'J&YJ..:?J..Q.!:l.......9. ,,§x. :I:,.§'X),.,Y.. ( Spr i n g ,
1964), p. 86.
'",~ This is suggested in "The Washington Shoot-out", I..l:l..~.
@!o!.UJ.. (Hay, 1981), pp. 8-13.
""'''' Elihu Katz and Daniel Dayan, !i§'. 9J..."'........g..Y.~.!:l..t..§. (New York:
Oxford University Press, £orthcoming).
' 0 1 Rivers, in Greenberg and Parker, 1965, p. 59.
:t.1;;:';;;~ W
_..§.U·...§'11......G.Q.ffi1l!i'?..:?...i...Q-"......!3.§'.p..Q!:.t... p. 202.
"",," J b_:L<!, p. 204 .
:t.O~I' lb' d
_ . . . .+....... , p. 206.
:l.1:)~,;l lb' d
...........;L......... p. 240.
:LQC':". B
" ru ck er, ;;_~ t ..1,l..:r. 9§Y .. ..R.§'...Y_i...§,_¥l... 1 964 , P • 76 .
J""7 "At Issue: Judgment By Television," G.9...J._,!l,ll..Q"!. .'!.'..
.. 9..!o!.E!§.:J,J..."'.l!!.... .!3.§'..Y..!..§'..l'!.. (Winter, 1964), p. 45.
 210

,,,<> "The Life and Death of John F. Kennedy," G.!,!.J;;..l::.§E.t.

(January 1964), p. 43.
:t.O"'~ !J2'!.9.. .I' p. 47.
, ,."' Ne~...Y9..LI5..._Lh!'!.'!l.§. (10/91 64), p. 21.
, ", Repg:r.:.:t;.......Q.:L..tJ:!.§.....[Link]..t.:!:.§.§.......Q!L....E.l::§l.§..<:!9]1! ....Qf.±P..[Link];;J.1l"",.U.9..!1. of
the American Society of Newspaper Editors (4/16/64).
Quo ted i n L~J.,.§l...v.i-_"~..Q!l......!;;J1d"",!:j;,.§,..J;;.. J,..}'. ( Spr i ng , 1964), p. 27.
:t.:t~~: M§!:.!!L_YQ];Ji .....IJ..If!.§.§.. (10/18/64).1' p. 53.
,. "" )i§!l'...3 oxJ:s. _Tj,J]\_~§. ( 4 1 7 1 6 4), P • 71.
>"." !'L€,.'1......Y9..l::!5......J:.;i,]I!§!.§. (4/16/64), p. 41; <11 120/64), p. 76.
,. ,. "; !I!. '!l.!l'......Y2J;;. lLJ ·LI1!..§§. <11 / 20 / 6 4), p. 76.
,. ,. <.i Pressman et a1, ~le"y"J,..§'!.9..!1.......9..!'!. ~.F..t§.l::..!.Y., 1964, p. 17.
:t. ~. 7 J.. !?.!..9. .p
p. 6 ~
".M ];..1=11,..9.,
p. 15.
:I. ;J. 9 Quoted i n !ig.A. t.g_;r.__~_!!..g. __EH.R.!.1§.h§J;::. (12/14/63), p. 12.
l. ;~o Quoted in Brucker, ~t!::!.;r.};;t~j.~...._R§.y_!.§_~_j11 1964 JII p. 77.
 211

ACCESSING

ASSASSINATION TALES
 212

CHAPTER SIX

DE-AUTHORIZING OFFICIAL MEMORY

Continued public interest about Kennedy's death meant

that journalists would not alone attempt to emerge as

spokespeople Ior its story. The recognition OI journalists

as the story's preIerred spokespeople evolved in

association, negotiation and contest with other groups

vying to tell their versions OI the same tale. Journalists

did not simply contrive to assume the role OI speaker, but

more general circumstances associated with cultural

authority had bearing on their assumption OI that role.

What took place beyond journalism directly aI£ected

journalists' attempts to legitimate themselves as

authorized retellers o£ the assassination story. In the

£ollowing pages, I discuss three such circumstances: One

was the diIIerent readings o£ Kennedy's death that linked

the assassination with images o£ JFK as President; a

second was the establishment OI conditions o£ documentary

failureS" by which oIIicial bodies and recognized

institutional Iorums Ior documentation £ailed to bring

closure to the assassination; and a third was the

recognition OI alternate retellers OI the assassination

story, including journalists, assassination bUIIs and

historians. These three circumstances made the

 213

assassination record an attractive locus £or journalists

seeking to consolidate their own authoritative position as

speakers in public discourse. This became even more the

case as their assassination memories became part o£ the

repertoire by which they authenticated themselves as an

interpretive community.

l2.I;;b..IIL.<:::B£:.A.:L:J:ll.G.....![Link].J;;..:_Ill.!L.A.?eA?[Link]. .. ANP..J!:lAGJ.;.eQf..[Link]
John F. Kennedy was once called the "'most fascinating

might-have-been in American history":L It is thus no

surprise that individuals and groups have remembered him

through his assassination, with the Kennedy image often

seen as created by the Kennedy death. Gore Vidal suggested

as much in 1967 when he said that "Kennedy dead has

infinitely more force than Kennedy living" -. Twenty years

later Todd Gitlin advanced a similar theme, maintaining

that "'Kennedy could be appreciated better in his absence"'

The fact that Kennedy's death remained as vital an

issue as his administration - and that understanding the

assassination took place at the same time as observers

began to appraise his Presidency brought the

assassination directly into the heart of the growing

national repertoire of Kennedy stories. Through the

assassination, the Kennedy story was recast as one of

tragedy. It thus had direct bearing on images of Kennedy,

his Presidency and his administration.

 214

In the years after Kennedy died, chroniclers

attributed much of America's enthusiasm for him to the

fact of his death and its violent circumstances 4 Said

Daniel Boorstin:

His untimely death reminds us of how history

assesses public figures who die too soon. In the
making of historical reputations, there are
advantages and opportunities to brevity 5 .

cuting his rapidly-engendered status as a legendary hero,

one journalist lamented that

The Kennedy myth came into being only after he

was dead, and then only as a means of coping
with his death ••• Anyone with a clear memory or a
willingness to read through editorials in the
liberal journals of those years knows that very
substantial segments of the American public,
particularly its liberal elite, were well able
to contain their enthusiasm for John Kennedy
while he was alive •.. All those splendid great
expectations that we are now convinced we had
back in the early 60s were discovered for the
first time after the assassination a.

The assassination was seen as having provided Kennedy with

"a reprieve, forever enshrining him in history as the

glamorous, heroic leader he wanted to be, rather than as

the politician buffeted by events he could not control" 7'

Much of the enthusiasm for the President thus set in after

his death, by people with vested interests in its

persistence.

Journalists played a key role in implanting and

perpetuating images about Kennedy within collective

 215

memory. Already in 1964 a major news-magazine applauded

the fact that Kennedy's face was plastered "all across the

nation - in newspapers and magazines, on TV screens" e

NeWs organizations hurriedly produced books and films on

Kennedy's Presidency and administration-

and Pierre Salinger and Sander Vanocur's book of tributes

to the President Documentary films like

NQ.Y..§J.~~~Q.§lJ?'.. premiered in 1964 :I.e::>. As the years wore on~

extensive patterns of image management through media

eulogy, commemoration and simple repetition - persisted.

Twenty years later, Americans were being treated to what

one journalist called "a media bath of reassessment .. :t :L

More important, many of their efforts directly linked

Kennedy's death with his life. :tl:!.§."_. "..!;Jr:~IH1§:.9Y__,_..Y.§.~.;r.§. was

appended with a 48-page booklet on the assassination 1a

UPI and A.m."ll;"...;LQ..<:!!:L .._!i!?,.l;"..!.t.S'. 9.!?'. magazine published a book, E.2.!,lE.

P.!".¥.§_....___i.!:l ....!'!.9.Y§'!flbE.'X.. , that descr ibed the assassination and the

three days that followed <~ Books began to appear on

anniversaries of Kennedy's death 14

Media involvement promoted varied interpretations of

the events of Kennedy's death. While a lack of consensus

over their precise circumstances increased over time, with

greater recall generating less agreement, the failure to

generate a complete or agreed-upon version o£ the

 216

assassination story challenged the media's authority as

storyteller. Media organizations continued to invest large

amounts o£ time, money and resources in the assassination

story. But the more attention that they paid and the more

fervently that they played the story, the more holes in

collective memory about the assassination they generated.

In many senses this created a professional dilemma for

journalists seeking to provide an authoritative account of

the assassination: It denied them the ability of assuming

the role of authoritative spokespeople yet encouraged them

to continue trying. It also played into the attempts of

different groups seeking to add to and enhance the

assassination record, by creating a situation ripe for the

emergence of different groups vying to tell the

authorized, and hopefully final, story of Kennedy's

assassination.

It is important to remember that such was not always

the case. Immediately after Kennedy's death, chroniclers

provided instant interpretations. They assumed that

knowledge about the circumstances of his assassination

would bring closure by generating a final reading of its

events. This prompted journalists to initially impose

hermeneutic readings on Kennedy's death, as in James

Reston's much-acclaimed column "Why America Weeps", where

he claimed that the assassination represented the

 217

intrusion of irrationality into the national character 1m.

Yet the route by «hich many .~mericans came to abandon

either-or interpretations of Kennedy's death and to

entertain more complicated notions about the assassination

was a certain one. It «as also directly dependent on the

active role that journalists played in giving voice to

views £rom many sides.

There «ere two main readings of Kennedy's death, what

journalist Jefferson Morley has called "shorthand -for

making sense of public life" •• : Nostalgic visions of the

promise that was cut short in Dallas, visions of Camelot

and King Arthur's court versus notions of conspiracy and

an emphasis on the undertow of Kennedy's public existence.

In Morley's terms, Camelot and the yearning for morally

heroic leadership were set against conspiracy and the fear

of undemocratic plots. It was because the assassination

brought together these "two elemental themes of American

history"' that its '"anniversary endures as a national rite"

Depending on which image of Kennedy was adopted, the

circumstances of his death became at least partly

comprehensible in conjunction with it.

The first popular sentiment held Kennedy in lofty,

almost mythic regard, a peculiar point due to the

circumstances by which it «as generated. In 1978, writer

Theodore White recalled how Jackie Kennedy summoned him to

 218

Hyannis Port one week after the assassination. She told

him how Kennedy used to play the record "Camelot" before

retiring at night:

She wanted Camelot to top the story. Camelot,

heroes, fairy tales, legends were what history
was all about ... So the epitaph on the Kennedy
administration became Camelot - a magic moment
in American history. Which of course is a
misreading of history. The magic Camelot of JFK
never existed ~a.

While the "selling of 'Camelot' was too insistent, too

fevered, accompanied by too much sentimentality and too

little rigorous thought" :l.'~l, it was a "purchase" that

appealed to his friends and sympathetic authors like

Theodore Sorensen, Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. , or Pierre

Salinger. Capitalizing on the insider's status they had

held at Kennedy's White House, they depicted him as

the ideal personification of the values of

cultural modernism and rationality •.. The Kennedy
assassination (thus) had almost totemic
significance: It was the sacrificial offering by
the prince of Camelot to the forces of bigotry,
irrationality and fanaticism .0.

More substantive appraisals lauded Kennedy's support of

the Peace Corps, the Alliance for Progress and, in certain

circles, legislation on civil rights.

At the same time, a second popular sentiment was

generated by the cold warriors' somber visions. Kennedy

was faulted from both left and right, alternately seen as

a Communist agent who was IIkilled because he failed to
fUlfill Moscow's decisions quickly enough II or
 21.9

criticized for failing to effect,ively lead

faulty administration and the Bay of Pigs invasion

Distinctions between Camelot and the cold warriors'

v ie'ltr' of Kennedy reflected distinctions between discourse

and act,ion p [Link] and record~ The oral and wri t.t,en

rhet~orical practices and strategies by which

President, had talked about, his aims were frequently set

against the actions by which he realized them. Admissions

that his time as President had been too brief to produce

adequate substance meant. t~() many observers t,hat "¥}e cann()t_

measure Kennedy's standards purely by :fie act.s of

statecraft because his ti me was [Link] short .. This

brought Kennedy's assassination directly into evaluations

of his Presidency and administration, with observers using

his death to justify many of his activities as President.

Yet both perspectives endured, a point that was reflected

in the entire spect~rum of opinJons [Link] on t~he N.§.~.

Y'?xk . . . . . ,~,"':,,::,' best-seller list during one week in 1964: It

included Kennedy"'s mythically-inclined

Victor Lasky's critique of the former President,

a UPI book about

the assassination 84 This brought memories o£ his death

to [Link] forefront o£ Kennedy stories? upholding the status

of retaIlers who had much to offer on that part..icular

domain of action, namel.y journalists.

 220

UI~TJ.t1A. T"
In E~uch a. vJay t,he Kennedy's death and

life was embedded within the repertoire of commemorative

[Link]. It. is [Link]. t.o not.e [Link]. Kennedy's family

[Link] to sev€"::o-r images of his death from appraisals of his

1i£e" reconstructing the particulars of his death from the

beginning. Family members actively shaped the President's

st..[Link] y funeral" engaged in their own commemorative

practices .~ and [Link] public services not. t.o [Link] i r

[Link] By [Link] seventies. [Link] family had begun t.o avoid

dedicati()n services in Dallas and called for national

commemorations not on November 22" [Link] dat.e of Kennedy's

death, but. on his [Link] By [Link]

[Link] o:f his ass8!:;;,sination l' .i t. e~ucceeded in

prohibiting official ceremonies near the place he was shot

in Dallas. Attempts to dilute assassination memories were

most evident during the mid-1960s p when the family set in

what.. one news-magazine called "t,he biggest_ brouhaha

over a book that. t,be nation has ever known" ;~;~"7 ~ "Trying to

copyright. [Link] assassination" m~e" the fern! 1 y agreed" t~hen

reneged" t.o let writer William Manchester publish an

history of Kennedy'" s death ~ The book, said T,tJ,fi.,~

magazine, "v1'a8 to be a ,,".,...::: .. 'c..., . . c.,,: a h i [Link]. would be

independent, but would still carry the authorization of the

Kennedys and require their approval before pu[).[Link]··

 221

between Manchester and Jacqueline

Kennedy, in particular!" over inclusion 0:£ a variety of

details brought publication to a sLandstill in 19G6 and

engendered a lawsuit over a number of charges on which

Manchester eventually yielded

While the Kennedys appeared to emerge the victors, in

a larger sense they £ailed~ For at the same time that "the

Battle o:f the Book" was waging between Nanchester and the

Kennedy family persons in less recognized quar"ters

were busily documenting their versions of the events of

Kennedyl's death. Such effortsjl' not dependent on the

Kennedy family's agreement to retell the assassiration

story, produced a number of alternate perspectives on it,

such as Edward J. Epstein's .I"g,!"'.§.1:. or Nark Lane's fI.'!.§!:! ...:!;..£!.

:l.:YS!.gI~.§:n~t,,, The Kennedys'" f" ocus€ld €lEf orts on the .so~ca lIed

authorized history of Kennedy's death thus rendered them

unable to manage all assassination memories. t1oreover,

their attempts to censure the media earned negative prese.

In an insigh'tful overview of Mancheaterls quibbles with

the Kennedy family, Logan pinpointed how "during

Kenr:sedyf s term of office, his sta££ was accused o£ trying

to manage the news. Now, o£ course, the charge on several

:fronts is that of managing history" like

news, ""has always been subject to some manageIftent~" But.

 222

di££erence, maintained Logan, was that lithe stage

the
directions should be out o£ earshot"

All o£ this was important to the legitimation o£

journalists as spokespeople, in that they generally

eschewed the Kennedy £amily's attempts at image

management. Few journalists agreed to commemorate Kennedy

on his birthday, and at one point the

marked the ""sixth month anniversary·' o£ Kennedy's death,

which ironically £ell six days short o£ his birthdate 34,

Interpretations o£ Kennedy's assassination thus held that

much o£ his li£e was seen through his death, many o£ them

£orwarded by journalists intent on promoting their own

interpretations o£ events. As one observer commented,

"what JFK was unable to do £or his country in li£e, he has

been able to do £or his country in memory" Or, as a

journal ist £or I!:!.!'!_.__I"E.9..9E.§'.""-!';.tY_'" lamented, "in the midst o£

Death, we are in Life" 35. The assassination was thus

directly £oregrounded as a cornerstone o£ memory about

Kennedy. Links between his 1i£e and death were £orwarded

in large part by the hermeneutic perspectives o£

chroniclers, particularly journalists, trying to

understand his death at the same time as they were

appraising his Presidency. Particularly £or journalists,

Who pro£ited by routinized occasions £or their media

presentations, yearly commemorations o£ the President on

 223

date of his death gave them a predictable stage on

~hich to spread their assassination tales. In a sense~

this Suggested that already from the beginning journalists

recognized that their media access would help promote

their assassination tales above those of other speakers.

[Link]:_~I@.!e_:J:. ~J:!.~LE..!:!.LQLJ2..9.99..!'1.g11J.!tRL[.p'!.;I:J"[Link];_

But the story's successful circulation also depended

on the recognized forums for documentation. At the same

time as Kennedy's image was being linked with

circumstances of his death, developments beyond the actual

Kennedy legacy had begun to create circumstances that made

the assassination's retelling more accessible to alternate

groups of retellers.

Access to the assassination story depended in large

part on surrounding issues that were brought into focus by

documentary agencies attempting to resolve the ambiguities

of Kennedy's death. These recognizable documentary forums

the police, FBI, CIA, and various investigatory

commissions and committees set up over the years to

examine the assassination kept the assassination a

salient and topical issue, providing markers by which it

was Possible to collectively remember Kennedy's death. Yet

they also failed to lend closure to the assassination

record, producing circumstances which I call "documentary
:failure". It was the failure of official forums of
 224

documentation to lend closure to the record o£ the

assassination that in e££ect helped promote journalists as

authoritative spokespeople o£ its story.

By the year £ollowing the assassination, extensive

official paperwork was being directed at the events o£

Kennedy's death. The Warren Commission, originally hailed

as the body capable o£ providing de£initive answers to the

mysteries o£ Kennedy's death 37 , set to work examining

over hundreds o£ reports and documents and interviewing

over 550 witnesses 38. By the time i t had concluded its

deliberations, the sheer volume o£ its documentation

over 17,000 pages housed in 26 volumes o£ prose ';:·l'9

initially laid to rest most substantive questions.

Published in late 1964, the Commission's report held

that Kennedy was killed by a lone gunman, Lee Harvey

Oswald. The documentation was so wide-ranging as to be

later labelled "the most completely documented story o£ a

crime ever put together" In one observer~s semi-

fictionalized view, it was .Ithe novel in which nothing is

left out" .f.1.:I.

While the Warren Commission's conclusions were

initially circulated by the media,. much o£ its

documentation was also made readily available to the

general public. For $76.00, people were able to purchase

 225

copies of the document, allowing them to peruse it at

their own pace and interest Abridged editions, less

cumbersome than the report's 26 volumes~ were also made

available .3, suggesting that a preliminary groundwork was

set up already by 1964 where both lay-people and non-

official groups of professionals could authoritatively

comment upon the official assassination record.

Journalists' participation in the official

assassination investigation was evident from the onset.

Reporters were called as key witnesses, and they testified

to hearing the firing of shots or photographing the

windows of the Texas School Book Deposi tory .t)-..:~ .. The N.§.~

its own version of the report, with

journalist Harrison Salisbury writing a special preface

The Associated Press also issued its own edition,

appending it with what it called "An liP Photo Story of the

Tragedy," a series o£ 14 pictures of Kennedy's final

moments ,(.~t'i..; In a footnote, the editors addressed possible

problems connected with their having incorporated the liP's

account within the abridged yet official record:

As indicated, the supplement of pictures

inserted in the front section of the book is not
a part of the Commission's report. It was added
in order to recall more vividly the tragic four
days which made the report necessary 4 7

Journalists thereby appeared initially to join in the

efforts of recognized institutions to generate extensive

 226

documentation about the assassination, all in conjunction

with conclusions forwarded by the Warren Commission~ The

record resulting from these efforts, bolstered by the non-

official enthusiasm and support of a number of public and

professional quarters, produced what appeared to be a

whole and complete official account of the events

circumscribing Kennedy's death.

The two streams by which Kennedy was commemorated

immediately following his death persisted into the decade

after the Warren Commission Report was published: More

realistic Camelot-like sentiments lingered, at the same

time as did revisionist readingsp consensual notions that

the former President had himself been a conventional cold

warrior ..

Journalists played an active part in shaping memories

on both fronts. A writer for the 1II.§.~ ...'yg.l':.!5 .....IJ.!'l.""'_"'. contended

in 1971 that Kennedy was on his way to becoming great when

he was killed .8. The 10th anniversary of Kennedy's death

fell in the midst of the Watergate scandal, allowing JFK's

admirers to contrast their hero with Nixon's stealth 49

A+-- L. h e same time, Kennedy was dubbed

an unimaginative and perhaps even conservative

politician who bore systematic responsibility
for the woes of the Johnson-Nixon years: an
escalating arms race~ widening military
 227

entanglements aboard, racial turmoil and abuses

o£ presidential power ~O.

Asked by A.J)1.§.L~g."'.!:L_....J:!.'?EJJ;,.",.g.§. magazine to name the most

overrated public figure in history, author Thomas Fleming

chose JFK
with a lump in my throat. But the record shows
his public relations approach to the Presidency
was almost a total disaster for the nation ~,

Stone discounted Kennedy in 1973 as "simply an

optical illusion"' t',';'i;E: By the tenth anniversary of his

death, the Kennedy shrine, in one news-magazine's words,

was beginning to show its IIcracks and termites" ~.':i~).

Such a ""coarsening of the collective memory"' ~4 about

Kennedy's life and death had direct bearing on the

salience of the assassination story. A growing trend

toward critical thinking whether in the Camelot or

revisionist mode- promoted a more critical vie," of the

assassination record itsel£. This was particularly the

caSe with journalists, whose alternate readings throughout

the seventies began to suggest a more complex and critical

view of the assassination than that suggested by the

Warren Commission's lone-assassin theory. Critical

thinking made the possibility of intricacies, mysteries

and of conspiracy in Kennedy's death more feasible.

This produced a number of questions about the

validity of the Warren Report during the late 1960s and

early 1970s, which largely centered on conspiracy. In some

 228

quarters re-appraisals began to take shape immediately

after the [Link]~s deliberations were published, with

g§.9...1:t.:!:..~_§. publishing a "Primer of Assassination Theories" in

1966 that suggested 30 versions of Kennedy's murder at

odds with official documentary record ~~ Books by

assassination buffs Mark Lane, Edward Epstein and Josiah

Thompson went into circulation by the middle of the decade

New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison accused

prominent businessman Clay Shaw of involvement in

Kennedy's death, in what carne to be called the Clay Shaw-

Jim Garrison affair ~7 Kennedy aide Richard Goodwin

called for an independent group to weigh charges of

inadequacy against the Warren Commission Groups of

citizens began gathering signatures for petitions that

urged the investigation's reopening 59. A television panel

pitted Commission critics against its defenders for an on-

air debate and received widespread media coverage

As the earlier role of journalists in upholding

documentary record about the assassination had been

central, so were the efforts of journalists in questioning

it. Movement from acceptance of the Commission's

dOcumentation, in however partial a form, to questioning

its basic parameters, was exercised with their assistance.

For example,. in September 1966 reporter Torn Wicker

criticized the Commission for failing to quiet public

 229

concerns that Oswald had been the assassin S' The

following year the N§'.~! .... Y.Q.:r.!,;....IJ.!'!.e.§. decided t.o reinvestigate

the assassination, with editor Harrison Salisbury

justifying the decision due to "the torrent o£ conspiracy

yarns, challenges to the Warren Commission Report and

general hysteria about the assassination lO ":':I.'a! CBS

conducted its own 7-month probe o£ questions arising £rom

the Warren Commission Report, aired in a £our-part special

in 1957 The program was billed as "very well the most

valuable £our hours you ever spent with television" "A. A

press release by CBS News President Richard Salant

praised it as "'professional"' and Jlgenius"

held that "it ranks as a major journalistic

achievement ~ ... a master£ul compilation o£ facts,

interviews, experiments and opinions - a job of journalism

that will be di££icult to surpass" e_g,. This suggests that

already at that point, a technical discourse about

documentary process was being hailed as the best o£

investigative journalism 67.

Moreover, media reports outlined calls by other news

organizations - including !,.j,J:.e. magazine and the !?2§.t2!:!.

~~~R~ - to reopen the investigation Reporter Jack

Anderson detailed stories o£ Kennedy-approved plots

against Castro in his column o£ March 3, 1957 •• In 1975,

 230

~?-,- __._!,!§y,?!?_ ..._,;tP.q._.!!l_g.!:_!.~:L.R§EQ.E.:t s tate d th a t cons p ira cy th eory

ken on speed when

had ta
several news reporters disclosed recently that
the late President Lyndon Johnson had told them
confidentially that he believed Cuba's Communist
Premier Fidel Castro might have been involved in
the Kennedy slaying 7 0 .

It added that a score of books, three motion pictures and

many magazine articles on the assassination had helped

arouse public interest 7~~

This does not suggest that only journalists activated

the call for reopening the investigation. At the same time

as journalists began to question the validity of existing

docuemntary record, the degree of public access to the

Warren Commission's documents, begun years before with the

transcript's public purchase, was steadily increasing. In

1974, the Assassination Information Bureau drew 3,000

people to Boston University, for the first public showing

of Abraham Zapruder's film of the shooting 7. Optics

technician Robert Groden screened on national television

his own presentation of certain frames of the Zapruder

film, by which he concluded that Kennedy was the victim of

crossfire 73. In March 1975, the entire Zapruder film was

shown on network television for the first time, displaying

for millions of American viewers the graphic footage that

had originally documented Kennedy's fatal head wound 7"':~.

In one historian" s [Link], IIthis episode convinced many that

 231

\~arren Commission had erred" That same year

the
Representative Henry Gonzalez proposed a resolution

calling for a congressional investigation into Kennedy's

murder, that rapidly generated support in Congress 76.

Such efforts were accompanied, if not precipitated,

by the increasingly prevalent. intervention of one specific

group of interested observers - the assassination bu££s.

That largely amateur group of citizens that took it upon

itself to investigate the assassination record shook many

givens behind interpretations of Kennedy's death. Buff

Mark Lane organized a Citizens Commission of Inquiry,

whose purpose was to pressure Congress to reopen the

assassination investigation 77 The buffs discussed

conspiracies ranging from the Dallas police, FBI and

Secret Service to Texas right-wingers and right-wing oil-

men 7a In their zeal, they "propounded the questions that

more 'responsible' authorities nervously dismissed"' 7'.

Public acceptance of the buffs was gradual. Even

their name implied "a harmless fixation like collecting

old cars" 80, In 1967, journalist Charles Roberts levelled

a particularly scathing attack on what he considered a

threat to the integrity of the Warren Commission:

Who are the men who have created doubt about a

document that in September 1964 seemed to have
reasonable answers ••. Are they bona fide
scholars, as the reviewers took them to be, or
are they, as Connally has suggested,
'journalistic scavengers'? . . . unlike Emile Z01a
 232

and Lincoln Steffans, who rocked national and

local governments by naming the guilty, the
Warren Report critics never tell us ~",'ho~ s in
charge of the scheme that has victimized us all.
Nor are they able to define its purposes,
although they offer half a dozen conflicting
theories €:\:L ..

The fact that Roberts chose to frame his criticism of the

buffs on professional grounds, comparing them with the

most renowned writers and journalists of the muckraking

tradition ... on the one hand, and with academics, on the

other, was telling. This was because by and large the

assassination buffs were neither scholars nor journalists.

Rather, they comprised a group of lay-persons who

independent of their professional calling voluntarily

decided to investigate the assassination. Roberts' attempt

to classify them as one group recognized for its

documentary exploration only reinforced how extraordinary

was their intervention. The assassination buffs' attempt

to retell the assassination thus considerably challenged

the lead position that other groups, generally

professional by nature, assumed in retelling the

aSsassination.

The buffs' involvement made conspiracy into a more

aCceptable reading of Kennedy's death. They made accessing

the documentary record less problematic, turning the
notion of access into a professional challenge for groups
whose professional identity was wrapped up in documentary
 233

e><ploration. The buffs made it possible to differentially

interpret existing documentary record p showing that

professional expertise and training did not necessarily

produce the most authoritative perspectives on Kennedy's

death. This not only suggested the possibility of

conspiracy, but it intensified the need to reexamine

e><isting official documentary record about the

assassination.

I!:![Link]!:Ls.. J1Q'y'?Ji: .. ?'Ji:!"J;:_GI.GQJ~1![Link]:U!R.

RQQI.!:[Link] ..[Link]:.
In looking back, one news-magazine examined the

ascent of the assassination buffs against a larger

background by which Americans began to question recognized

forms of authority and documentation:

In the 1960s, the tendency of many Americans was

to regard attacks on the Warren findings as the
ideas of 'kooks' or 'cranks' or of 'profiteers'
seeking to exploit the great public interest in
the Kennedy case ... Now, however, cynicism
generated by the Watergate affair, the Vietnam
War, and revelations about CIA operations have
made both officials and the American public more
inclined to accept a 'conspiracy' theory as
possible 103;;;;:.

The increased access to official documentation" as

represented by the buffs, constituted a cultural

Phenomenon that called into question a number of givens

about the role of the individual in decision-making. This

directly challenged the authority of those expected to

tell the story of Kennedy's assassination.

 234

To an extent, questioning authority was borne out in

developments that stretched beyond the assassination

story. Undoing its official record took place during "a

period when entrenched authority was to be challenged and

confronted f>", part of what one observer called .. the

tearing-loose - the active beginning of the end of life

within the old institutions" By the mid-1970s,

skepticism of things official had extended to a "popular

mistrust of official historypll and that mistrust was

shared by journalists Skepticism was directly

facil i tated by \~atergate and other scandals of the

seventies that rocked existing trust in public

institutions. Growing mistrust in government was

accompanied by what was seen as an increasing governmental

dependence on secrecy and concealment.

held that

We have learned (or should have) much about

ourselves in the past decade. We slaughtered
women and children in Vietnam and then covered
it up; there was bombing in Cambodia and then a
coverup; there was massive espionage at
Watergate and then a coverup. Given the
atmosphere in Dallas in 1963, and the admitted
inadequacies of the Warren Commission Report, is
it not equally possible that the assassination
of President Kennedy was followed by a
coverup?.It is clear that a reopening of the
assassination investigation is now in order a6~

QUestioning the record of the assassination thus had its

roots in larger cultural and political enterprises that
promoted a general questioning of government institutions
 235

and recognized forms of documentation Within [Link].~,

larger setting, it is thus no surprise that other agencies

began to conduct official and semi-official investigations

into the events of Kennedy's death. To a large extent,

this had to do with revelations about faulty process

by certain official investigatory agencies, such

as the CIA or FBI The shadowed integrity they

suggested made a reopening of the case more pallatable, if

not necessary~

All of this generated period of [Link]

questioning. off ici,,,l investigatory effort,

comprised of medical practitioners, was called the Clark

Panel. Appointed by Attorney-General Ramsey Clark in 1968,

the team reviewed the autopsy photographs and

reveal ··serious discrepancies between its rev i e\4' of t..he

autopsy materials and [Link]'· I;;>''''~ One such

discrepancy was the disappearance of [Link] of

Kennedy's body. Another e£fort~ \,;>as [Link] by the

Rockefeller Commission in 1975~ Formed to investigat.e

number of assassination plot schemes - such as [Link]

CIA involvement in Kennedy's death the Committee found

no conclusive link with Kennedy through any of the plots

It. [Link] ';':~'~. ~ Yet another official

Comm i t"t,ee ~ Billed

'J<la the Church as
"'"
Congressional Committee to Study Governmental Operat,ions
 23&

[Link] t.o Tr'!t..el1igencE~ Acl"Jv:lt. .[Link]~ of

con:ftrmed in 1976 the £ailllre o£ the federal [Link]

agencies to examine a number of conspiracy leads in

Kennedy's death, as well as illicit. sexual connections

betwE,:o;en Kennedy and Judith Campbell Exner 'ia:1. But

produced no conclusive results about what had been it..s

stated intention - pinpointing Kennedy's exact role in

plots to kill Castro - and thereby failed to lend closure

to the one point it set out to resolve 92.

By the mid-seventies these independent investigatory

act_ivit..ies engendered a number of doubts about the

valid:i.t.y o£ the Warren Commission Report, regardless of

what one felt about Kennedy's image,. administration or

death. A""

In the eleven years since its publication, the

Warren Report never convinced the majority of
Americans that the killing waB the work of one
man acting alone ... The return of the
assassination of President Kennedy to the
headlines twelve years after the events of
November 1963 brings with it a new national
resolve to have a final satisfactory accounting
of this American tragedy 9 3 .

Ambiguities p [Link],. misb,andling of' [Link] and

witnesse.s all made the CommissionPs conclusions into an

issue of credibility.

This upheld the accessihlity of alternate retellers,

such as journalists)" who I/Jere invested in [Link]

doubting [Link] o££icial assassination recordPs validity. In

 237

particular, the fact that the media lent firm and

continued stages to these doubts helped enhance their own

credibility. For it was not only a stage for the reports

of others that the media provided. While reopening the

assassination record, journalists were accused of

deliberately undermining the assassination inquiry .-

Efforts by Jack Anderson, Harrison Salisbury and a number

of other reporters to reopen the record made them central

figures in a larger atmosphere of documentary questioning.

The Rockefeller Commission, in particular, owed its

emergence largely to journalist Jack Anderson and his

reports that the CIA had plotted Castro's assassination

with Kennedy's backing .~. TV anchorperson Walter Cronkite

went on-air in 1975 to contend that former President

Lyndon Johnson had indicated years earlier that he felt

international connections might have been involved in

Kennedy's assassination 9G Cronkite showed parts of an

interview with Johnson that had been deleted from the

original broadcast at the President's request.

Documentary questioning directly affected the

integrity of the original official documentary body - the

Warren Commission 0 Its abuses were seen as wide-ranging:

It had failed to procure relevant information from the FBI

97
, Over one-third of the assassination-related documents
in the National Archives were still being withheld in 1969
 238

~a, army intelligence files on Lee Harvey Oswald were

destroyed as late as 1973 ••• Such representative vagaries

tainted the integrity of official documentary process,

with recognized forums for documentation seen as having

failed to resolve the circumstances of Kennedy's death.

Instead, the inadequacy of the Warren Commission's address

to Kennedy's death had generated questions with no

answers.

Documentary questioning similarly blew holes in the

images by which Kennedy's life was appraised. It de-

romanticized most Camelot-like perspectives:

the notion of Camelot, always overblown and

romanticized, has barely survived, if it has at
all, allegations and disclosures about
assassination plots and Mafia women, wiretaps
and [Link]§!:x.§.~.tAqn.§........~~ttt..h. ~J~.§.nn.~.9. y'. ~. 0 0 ..

By the end of the seventies, "Camelot <had come to be)

portrayed as a hoax, conspiracy as realism" 1

1. :;>:1. It was

a.s if the epistemology of the ~LE§...~__. ..x.Q.;F-.!5._. . .T...~. m.~.§. and

the W!"!.§.h.~.D9t.Q.!L£.Q.§.1. had been replaced by that of
the !'!.;;!.tl.Q.D.;;!.l.._....£:.D!;g'!A:r::.§'r and l2§gpl§. magazine.
Camelot, it seemed, could never again appear to
be the pristine place its celebrants had claimed
there were simply too many Mafia dons and
party girls dwelling within its precincts .0.
Documentary questioning was also upheld by cultural

productions

or :Ih§ ......l2.!?-_r.;;!.J.J.!"!.~ ........Sl§l;'. , all of which underscored the

possibility of conspiracy - through odd configurations -

in the assassination story.

 239

By the late 1970s, these circumstances - the efforts

of the assassination buffs, the atmosphere of documentary

questioning and the smaller semi-official investigations

into troublesome aspects of Kennedy's death - produced a

decision in 1976 to reopen the official federal

investigation of the assassination, known as the House

Select Committee on Assassinations. Bringing together the

killings of Kennedy and Martin Luther King in one cultural

repertoire~ the Committee's 170-member study group sought

to uncover what had been left ambiguous by the Warren

Commission 12 years earlier and the rapid sentencing of

James Earl Ray in King's murder. In the case of Kennedy's

assassination, most of its subpoenas were directed at CIA

and FBI-held files '03.

The House Committee took two years to reach its

deliberations, at an expenditure of S5.8 million

According to historian Michael Kurtz, its mandate was

fourfold. It was to uncover:

1) Who assassinated President Kennedy? 2) Did

the assassin(s) receive any assistance? 3) Did
United States government agencies adequately
collect and share information prior to the
assassination, protect President Kennedy
properly, and conduct a thorough investigation
into the assassination? 4) Should new
legislation on these matters be enacted by
Congress? ~o~
 240

investigation lasted from January to July 1978,

followed by two months of public hearings. The report was

issued on December 30, 1978.

The committee ruled that there had probably been a

second gunman in the killing of Kennedy, but it could not.

determine who. Noting that Kennedy was "probably

assassinated as a result of a conspiracy,."' it conceded

that it could not identify the identity or extent of such

a conspiracy Rather, it produced extensive

documentation about who might have been interested in

pulling a second trigger, including the Cuban government,

the Kremlin, right-wing Cuban exiles, the Mafia, the CIA,

the FBI and the Secret Service. The 686 pages housed in 27

volumes produced conclusions that were by all counts

inconclusive, a point that dismayed most assassination

observers .. Its final report, issued the following July,

mentioned that elements of organized crime were "probably"

involved, but said little more :to?

In one observer's view, the Committee's efforts ""were

an exercise in bathos" :toe.:

The investigation uncovered some new evidence,

particularly the acoustical analysis, but on the
whole it proved as limited as that of the Warren
Commission ... The committee's refusal to operate
publicly, its lack of expert cross-examination
of witnesses, its failure to attach the proper
Significance to numerous pieces of evidence
resulted in an investigation of the
assassination that raised more questions than it
originally sought to answer : l 0 9
 241

Because the Committee found insufficient evidence to

implicate possible agents in Kennedy~s assassination, its

deliberations were as much a disappointment as the Warren

Commission's had been twelve years earlier. It overturned

the Warren Commission's basic supposition and upheld then-

existing bias that there had been a conspiracy, but lent

that notion little substantial support 110 Its failure to

resolve the uncertain aspects of Kennedy's murder thus

exacerbated the documentary questioning set in motion by

the Warren Commission twelve years earlier.

The Committee's failure to provide documentation that

could resolve the gunman's identity - despite a plethora

of evidence, documents and expertise - was crucial because

it reproduced failings exhibited earlier by the Warrren

Commission. In both cases, the plethora of documentation

was insufficient and ineffective in lending closure to the

assassination record. Bolstered by a number of semi-

official investigations which similarly produced more

questions than answers, institutional £orums of

documentation were lodged in a situation of what I call

documentary failure. Recognized forums £or documentation

were unable to generate conclusive answers about Kennedy's

assassination, suggesting a failure of documentary process

in regard to the assassination record.

 242

Rather than generate closure, documentary failure

diminished closure where it existed, and generated

questions where there had previously been answers. As

assassination buff Josiah Thompson said, normal

investigatory procedure of homicides tend to produce a

convergence o-f the evidence. But in Kennedy's homicide,

"things haven't gotten any simpler; they haven't come

together. " More in-formation only generated more questions

:I.:I.:t " Despite their status as legitimate and recognized

holders of memories about the assassination, o-f-ficial

forums for documentation were unable to provide an

authorized and complete account of the events o-f Kennedy's

death: They produced a situation by which

We are not agreed on the number o-f gunmen, the

number o-f shots, the origin of the shots, the
time spane between shots, the paths the bullets
took, the number o-f wounds on the president's
body, the size and shape of the wounds, the
amount o-f damage to the brain, the presence o-f
metallic -fragments in the chest, the number o-f
caskets, the number o-f ambulances, the number o-f
occipital bones 1 1 2 .

Ultimately documentary -failure exposed the basically

constructed nature of documentary process, and showed how

relative Were the "truths" such -forums sought to uphold.

This generated conditions by which other figures

eagerly sought to re-examine the assassination record. The

assassination story was opened up for renegotiation, its

O-fficial memories de-authorized. Implicitly or explicitly,
 243

thiS invited other groups - such as journalists - to lend

closure through their versions of events. In other .,ords,

the failure of documentary process made i t possible for

other groups vying to tell the assassination story to

emerge as its authorized spokespersons. Documentary

failure made possible the legitimation of alternate forms

of documentation in conjunction with the story of

Kennedy's death.

For other retellers striving to tell their versions

of Kennedy's death, this generated immediate opportunity.

The vacuum of recognized authority suggested a need for

other kinds of evidence providing other angles to the

crime. As Don Delillo remarked:

Powerful events breed their own network of

inconsistencies ... The physicial evidence
contradicts itself, the eyewitness accounts do
not begin to coincide. There are failures of
memory~ there are con£licting memories ~~3.

For speakers trying to forward their authoritative

presence within the assassination tale, this suggested

that by offering a different interpretation of the events

of Kennedy's death, they could solidify their position as

its authorized spokespeople. As David Lifton suggested in

his book about the assassination, "What you believe

happened in Dallas on November 22, 1963 depends on what

 244

evidence you believe" ~~4. What he did not say was that as

important as what one believed was who one believed had

the right to assist in determining beliefs about the

assassination.

Given the re-search necessitated by documentary

fail'Ure,. individuals and groups began to document the

documents of others. Because they were no longer able to

access the original assassination story, documents which

had previously been sealed were opened; testimony was re-

given within di££erent parameters and circumstances; and

access to secondary sources of information became equally

important as access to the original crime. Journalists in

particular often found themselves commenting upon their

own documentation. For example, in discussing one of the

more recent booKs on the assassination, author James

Reston Jr. was told that he had no new evidence. Reston

replied that his argument~ came from rereading the

documents themselves :I. :t. :'.~i

His comment upheld the

legitimacy of secondary access, and recognition that the

layperson's re-reading of old texts was a viable practice

of interpretation, or documentary exploration. Attempting

to advance its legitimacy in effect justified the access

of laypersons to the documents of the assassination

record, and suggested the central role they could play in

deconstructing its contents. It also upheld the views of

 245

~non-official persons as legitimate and recognized

interpretations of Kennedy's death. The fact that many new

theories" new evidence and expertise all relied on re-

readings of the same documents and statements thereby made

the memories of alternate groups of people a potentially

salient and valued source of documentation.

Another example was found in a 1988 edition of Nova,

which traced the kinds of evidentiary practice that had

figured over the years in readings of Kennedy's death ~1&.

Using Walter Cronkite as narrator, it explored 25 years of

investigatory efforts through the categories of evidence

and expertise that had been invoked to interpret its

circumstances" suggesting that which assassination reading

people adopted depended in large part on the categories of

evidence" testimony and expertise in which they believed.

This suggests that following documentary failure, the

assassination was reinvested with cultural importance, but

from a different perspective - that of alternate groups of

speakers with their own memories and stories to tell.

Officialdom's failure to document the assassination story

inadvertently focused attention on the authority of

alternate speakers in places where official forums had

failed. This foregrounded the involvement of journalists

and other retellers, and paved the way for alternate

readings of the events of Kennedy's death. By allowing

 246

them to position themselves through different interpretive

practices around the gap of authority created by

documentary failure, it put alternate documenters of the

record - like journalists - into viable positions by which

they could jockey for more authority through references to

their own documentation about the assassinationG

In particular, journalists' ability to do so was made

easier because secondary access was a practice with which

they were comfortable. Many journalists had used secondary

access to the documents of others in order to initially

generate their own authority for covering the story of

Kennedy's death. For example, broadcaster Eric Sevareid,

brought in to comment on a CBS Report on the Warren

Commission, was criticized because ··as a witness, his

credentials ... seemed to consist entirely of his agreement

to watch the CBS documentary" ~. :1.-. .... Yet for lack of a

viable alternative, secondary access, or access to the

documentary efforts of others, evolved into the optimum

form of investigation. This put journalists and their

professional practices in a positive light.

Because journalists played such a large part in

fashioning "the record of the record," ordering its

documents implicitly upheld their placement as

professionals .. At heart, then, of the reopening of the

assassination record was a definitive movement from the

 247

authority of the recognized official body to that of the

non-of'£icial, the layperson and amateur. Because so much

of the record was documented by journalists, they played a

central and strategic part in shaping that movement.

Retellers with access to technologies of dissemination

promised not only a new way of reconsructing the events of

Kennedy's death but of replaying them in convincing and

plausible narratives. From such a perspective, journalists

occupied a particularly advantageous position. Their ready

access to technology and familiarity with practices of

second-order access cast them as central players in

retelling the assassination.

FORMS
_ OF MEMORY
_-_._--_._ ............-"'--'--
........... _.... ..................

As the assassination story edged into the eighties,

journalistic memories o£ the assassination took on many

forms. There continued to be an emphasis on personal

memories of' eyewitnesses, newspapers filled with articles

like UMany Remember the Scene As I t Was" :t. :ll::S. Emphasis was

on presence, both actual and symbolic. As journalist Mary

McGrory said in an article entitled "You Had To Be There

to Know the Pain": "Those who did not kno", him or did not

live through his death may find it difficult to understand

the continuing bereavement of those who did" 119.

There were also recollections of a more theoretical

nature, both by journalists and other retellers of the

 248

assassination story~ Assassination retellings oscillated

bet\..Jeen the two themes by which it had been most

successfully codified, adopting slightly novel

configurations of Camelot and conspiracy. On one hand,

thirty-four percent of Americans were quoted as saying in

1988 that Kennedy had been the country's most effective

President 1~O. Camelot-like sentiments produced books like

a long tribute to the President that mentioned

neither plots to assassinate foreign leaders nor stories

of Kennedy's sexual alliances, and romanticized television

series like !s..~X!.n.§.9..y. with [Link] Sheen :I.e:!.. Some observers

maintained that there was a ··Camelot backlash··:

The 20th anniversary of the assassination

received even more media exposure than had the
anniversaries of 1973 or 1978 much of i t
devoted to nostalgia about the Kennedy family
and the Kennedy charm. The underside of Camelot
was also acknowledged, dismissed as unimportant

Articles were written about "Camelot Revisited" or

"Camelot On Tape," detailing how Kennedy had taped his

ongoing White House conversations regularly ""'''. Camelot

was maintained intact, despite its acknowledged failings.

At the same time revisionists demoted Kennedy from a

""great" President to a merely "'successful" one: ··A dry-

eyed view of his thousand days suggests that his words

were bolder than his deeds" :u::~'" Herbert Parmet's book on

 249

the Presidency succeeded in thoroughly documenting the

underside of Kennedy's Presidency but stopped short of

castigating him for his failings 1e~. News-magazines were

filled with more realistic re-readings of Kennedy's

Presidency In 1985, Hofstra University conducted a

The conference director maintained

that the theme was chosen to provide a fair evaluation of

the former President :I.Z-?7

Conspiracy readings also flourished a

vengeance" as in Don Delill.o's 1988 novel b'!. Q.;r. ~.. or

the NBC min i - ser i es E~Y.Q.!:..~J::,~ ...;;g'l. 1e9 New books on the

assassination suggested different angles to old

information: One posited Texas Governor John Connally as

the assassin's target rather than Kennedy :I. ~?o

,• others gave
new reasons for the Mafia wanting to kill Kennedy

Dav id Horowitz' 15 I.h.~ .......~.§!.!:!.!1.~<::!y.§. furthered suggestions of

Kennedy's sexual activity and dubious connections 13Z

The eighties thus brought with them few revelations

into the assassination record. As one journalist remarked,

t·there are no new facts about the Kennedys, only new

[Link]" Indeed, not everybody remembered, or cared

 250

about, the events of Kennedy's death. As Pete Hamill

observed, by 1988

an entire generation had come to maturity with

no memory at all of the Kennedy years; for them,
Kennedy is the name of an airport or a boulevard
or a high school ~34.

A 1987 photograph showed two visitors at Kennedy's grave

on the 24th anniversary of his death >am, a far cry from

the hordes of people that had gathered earlier at his

graveside. There appeared to be a certain national amnesia

about the tawdry revelations of the seventies ." ... A 1983

poll showed that relatively few Americans

associated John F. Kennedy with either sexual misconduct

or plots to murder foreign leaders 1:37. Reporter Jefferson

Morley found an impatience with the ambiguities of the

assassination, and held that "Camelot and conspiracy in

Dallas were domesticated for prime time: 'Who shot JFK?'

became 'Who shot J .R .. '?'" :1,3.8. Media forums ranging from

the truth would never be known '.3g.

Yet retellings persisted. This suggests that

attention turned from uncovering new content about the

aSsassination to the processes by which the assassination

record had been documented. This played into the authority

of journalists and other retellers, who became experts at

seCondary access. As Don Delillo maintained:

 251

The operative myth of the Kennedy years was the

romantic dream of Camelot. But there is a
recurring theme or countermyth that might prove
to be more endearing. It is the public's belief
in the secret manipulation of history. Documents
lost~ missing~ altered, destroyed, classified.
Deaths by suicide, murder, accident, unspecified
natural causes. The simplest facts elude
authentication 1 4 0 .

Understanding the manipulation of the record thus became

as important as understanding the circumstances that

caused Kennedy's death. Less concerned with finding whole

theories or complete versions of what happened in Dallas,

Americans b,egan to look to other quarters for

authoritative versions of smaller incidents of documentary

abuse. Christopher Lasch generated an aptly titled article

called "The Life of Kennedy's Death," which detailed the

story's lingering effect on ongoing definitions not about

Kennedy or the assassination but. about those who produced

such definitions ~4~~ In his view, the assassination has

remained a national obsession because it validates

conflicting historical myths about insiders and outsiders,

professionals and laypersons. In such a light, ABC News

produced its first two-hour length retrospective on the

PreSident in 1983 Dallas finally opened what the N.§.!1.

"its most infamous public space," the

Texas School Book Depository amid wide-ranging

Controversy over the collective and individual meanings

generated by such a move.

 252

This growing interest in the processes by which the

assassination was documented - the meta-discourse about

the record of the record - helped to focus attention on

alternate forms of documentation, including professional

memories, directly highlighting the role of journalists.

The memories of those persons who were present in some

professional capacity at the events of Kennedy's death

offered a different perspective on tales which had been

told many times over. As one reporter said, "what began

with the assassination was not the present but the past"

The past, however, was not necessarily the past of

America's 34th President but of persons attempting to work

out their own histories, both personal and professional.

Memories were thus set up in competition with the official

accounts that had until then been held sacred. Given the

failure of such official accounts to lend closure to the

record, the alternate form of documentation suggested by

professional memories became an attractive alternative.

This does not suggest that the alternate form of

documentation which professional memories offer provided a

more "accurate" or IItruthful" version o£ events. One

chronicler maintained that in addition to the failure of

official investigations into the assassination, there were

failures of "non-official" investigatory efforts:

We~ve seen documentaries and docudramas. We've

watched the Zapruder film over and over again.
 253

We've heard sound experts tell us that the

evidence proves that there was a fourth shot and
therefore two gunmen. We've read cheap fiction
and superb fiction. In the end, nothing has been
resel ved :t.4t:!~ g

But reconstructions are in some ways not expected to make

sense of everything. Stories of the 1980s became more

realistic and personalized than those offered earlier ..

They were also less grandiose, less encumbered by large-

scale visions. They constituted the folklore of the

assassination record, based on the personal experiences

and memories of those who had been present during the

events in Dallas. Journalists took their place at the head

of the list of those waiting to share their tales.

All of these circumstances made the retelling of

Kennedy's death a particularly attractive locus through

which to establish and perpetuate one's authority as a

speaker in public discourse through memory. The fact that

the assassination record was promoted at a point in time

When, in Christopher Lasch's words, truth has given way to

credibility, "facts to statements that sound [Link]

without conveying any authoritative [Link]," ~ . .o(1.6 in

effect enhanced the appeal of alternate records based on

memory.

1 T .
197 Om Wlcker, "Kennedy Without End, Amen," g.s.9.!)J....§!. (June
7), p. 69. The phrase appeared to be a neatly-turned
ver . -
S10n of a remark made by James Reston the day after the
 254

assassination: "What was killed in Dallas was not only the

President but the promise. The heart o£ the Kennedy legend
is what might have been" ["Why America (veeps," ~1.§,~......Y.Q.):.~.
Timg§. (11/23/63), p. 1]. It also became the title o£ a
;·;';·;:;h-acclaimed article by Reston one year later called
"What Was Killed Was Not Only the President But the
Promise," !,!~y?..."y-,,!;rJ5.......It!!'.§§. (11/15/64), sec vi, p. 1.
;?- Gore Vidal, "Camelot Recalled: Dynastic Ambitions,"
Esqt!JX§. (June 1983, reprinted £rom "The Holy Family,"
AP:;'il 1967), p. 210.
'" T od d Gi t lin, In e .. 2J.~.t.,i&§,.; ...y'§.<:!):.§ ..g.:L1:!.QP.§-,... Q~y§_.g.:[.~R~9.§.
(New York: Bantam Books, 1987), p. 150.
'0. See Elizabeth Bird, "Media and Folklore as Intertextual
Communication Processes: JFK and the Supermarket
Tabloids," in Margaret McLaughlin, ~g.!'!!1n!n.!.[Link]"'!.t~.Qn....'!.§"'.):I>..Q9.!<.
10 (1987), £or a brie£ overview o£ di££erent £olkloristic
readings o£ Kennedy as hero.
!.'5 Daniel Boorstin .. uJFK: His Vision, Then and Now .. II !:L~ . ?_.~~.
N.§~§.~ng... W.Q.)C..±. g .. R§.p'.Q):t. (10/24/88), p. 30. Such a view was
expressed across media. For example, one leading
journalist maintained that "had he not been martyred as
President, his Presidential rating would be much lower."
[See Harrison Salisbury, f\........IJ..!!'~.....Qf.......~.h."'-':!.g.§' (New York:
Harper and Row, 1988), p. 641.
'" Andrew M. Greeley, "Leave John Kennedy in Peace," Ih.§'
~h.):J.§.t.!.~n....G.§[Link].Y. (Special Issue entitled "JFK: Ten Years
Later", 11/21/73), p. 1150.
7' Ronald Steel, "The Kennedy Fantasy," Ih.§..... !'!§'~.....'!g.):.!<... ..R.§.y.:i,..§.~.
Q.L...!?-,,!.Q.!< s , 1970.
" "A Year A£ter the Assassination," !'!.§.~.§'M.'§'§!< (11/30/64),
p. 26.
~. Rev i ew o£ Ih.§ ...!<:§.nl}.§gY.._Y.§.~L§., !'!~.~.....Y9£~TA!!'~.§ (11 122 I 64) ,
sec. VII, p. 6; Review o£ Ih.§!:.§.... W.",.§ .. b...f'ne.§,;,g§'nt, !'!.§~...X9£~.
IA!'!.§§. (1/16/67), p. 39. Salinger and Vanocur's book was
discussed in !'!.§.~ ...Y.Q)c!LTJ!!'!'!.§. (3/27/64), p. 10.
' 0 f._q.\!'L .. 'p.~y.§ .....J.n....!'!-"!.Y!'!.!!'R.!'!.):. was shown on 1017 164 [!'!!'!.~ .. .Y9£~
It!!'§'§. (l0/8/64), p. 481.
u. "Camelot Revisited," Ih.!'!.......!'!.<:!.tJ.Q.'!. (11/19/83), p. 483,
~.s~ N.§,!?,~... _Y_9..!.J5 ...... .TJ.):n.§.§. (8J28/64) .. PD 27 ..
:t::-r. N..§.~. . _Y...Q..!.:JL ..IJ. m,§:.~. (2/16/64), sec .. vii, PB 8.
:t ...+ One proclaimed book was Jim Bishop'" s :r.h<§..~....R.9..Y_.~...K.§.!?:.I.:!~t2.g.Y..
w."'. § ......~J:>gJ:.., whose issuance was timed to coincide with the
fi£th anniversary of Kennedy's assassination. The book was
billed as .. the book that the £ormer Mrs. John F. Kennedy
urged Jim Bishop not to write," an odd twist to the
Kennedy £amily"'s attempts to manage assassination memories
["New Kennedy Book Set For Release," !'!.!'!."'_ ....X9xK. I.!'!l.!'!.§
(10/24/68), p. 951.
,." James Reston, "Why America \~eeps," !'!.!'!.~....Y"9..):.~ ....I..t!!'.~.§"
(11/23/63), pp. 1, 7.
 255

._ Jefferson Morley, "Camelot and Dallas: The Entangling

Kennedy Myths," I.h..,,'-......I'I.?1A.9.!l.. <12112/88), p. 646 .
• 7 Ibid, p. 646 .
• " Th';;;;·dore H. \~hite, "Camelot, Sad Camelot" (Excerpt from
I n S~§!J:g.h.. 9:f..J:!j,§.t.9XY..;... !L.P_"'."=§9.D.?J...A.<:\_Y§'Dt!,!!:.'!l.), I !. !'L€?
<7/3·178), p. 47 .
• ", Pete Hamill, "JFK: THe Real Thing," 1'1.""1...1'9.,,=.1<:.
(11/28/88), p. 46.
,,0 Thomas Brown, [Link].L_!:!..!"§_t.9.,,=y"_. .9.f.....b.D.....I . TI!.!:!.9.§' (Bloomington:
Inidiana University Press, 1988), p. 104.
e' Ibid, p. 45; also "Birch View of JFK," N"".w.§_.'!'~"'.!:;.
(2/24/64), pp. 29-30 •
.,'" William G. Carleton, "Kennedy in History," b. D.t;;'9g.h.
Review 24 (Fall 1964), p. 278.
;;;·~;;···~;J·FK: Reflections A Year Later" (Editorial), l"j,;f."".
(11/20/64), p. 4.
",4 N.~._.Y.9;r::.I<: ....Ii.'!L€?-';;. (2/16/64), sec. vii, p. 8.
,,~ This included a public exhibit of his mementoes,
including amateur attempts at painting, notes from a
boyhood try for a raise in allowance, and ship models from
the President's personal collection. See Jacqueline
Kennedy, "These Are the Things I Hope Will Show How He
Really Was," hLf'"" (5/29/64), pp. 32-38 .
.,'" N.."'Y!... .Y.9."=!s... I.~..TI!.""§. (6/25/70), p. 1; Other figures loyal to
the official Kennedy memory made the same plea [See
Theodore Sorensen, N§!~...Y.9!:!:; . .T!_'!'.§.§. <11/22/73), p. 37].
Attempts persist to the present day, evidenced by Barbara
Gamarekian's 1988 comment that the Kennedy family want to
remember JFK by his life, not death ["Hundreds are in
Capi tal for 25th Remembrance," N-'3..'1... X.9.,,=.![Link]'!'.§!.!" (11/22/88)].
'~7 "The Presidency: Battle of the Book," IATI!§.. (12/23/66),
p. 15.
as Jim Bishop, Ih~_ ..R.!:!y...K"".!l..D.",,9Y.. ..W.""'§ ...?h9t (New York: Bantam
Books, 1968), p. xvi. The number of writers censored by
the Kennedy family far exceeded those who were granted
familial approval for pending manuscripts. The family
tried to block Governess Maud Shaw's memoirs of her White
House years, [Link].§!......!i!?.H.§""_....N.?E.n.!."'., and did the same with
former JFK confidante Palll Fay' s In.....t.h.~.....P..:J,.."".!:!§1\.!;.§!...9.f....!:!.:i,.§.
Q!?.l]\.P§!EY.., which was reportedly Cllt in half after persllals
by Jacqueline Kennedy. The pattern also persisted into the
eighties, with sixties analyst David Horowitz, who co-
au tho red I.h§!~"l}r>§..cjy§_;.J\!Lt\'!'!2l:'A.q?!!!.P.l:'§!)~.?, ma i n ta i n i n 9 that
the Kennedys exercised "totalitarian control" over their
memories and cancelled interviews with him at the last
;inute ["Re-evaluating the Kennedys," lL,_$..,._..I'I~."'."'.... ""'E.9 .....I!iQ:[Link].
·-.§!.P..2.E_t (5/4/87), p. 68]. Also see "Camelot Censured,"
N.§'.",.",.W-''''.§!]<;. (11/3/66) and Andy Logan, "JFK: The Stained Glass
Image," b.!'l.~.:rJ£?n ....J:I..~!:J..t!"!.g.". magazine (August 1967), p. 6.
 256

"" "The Presidency: Battle of the Book." T.:i. lll."". <12/23J66) ,

p. 15.
,,0lI!"'W..X9F.~....T:[Link]\."'.§l. (12J17 J66), p. 1; lI!"'~.Y9FJ.<:.TJll\.§'.§l.
(1/23J67), p. 1. See also "Camelot Censured?'", lI!.§'~."'.~."'."'.li
111/3J660, pp. 65-66; "The Presidency: Battle of the
Book," I:[Link]."'. (12J23J66), pp. 15-18. Ultimately this also
worked to the disadvantage of Kennedy's memory. As one
journalist remarked, Kennedy was "overmemorialized in too
short a time. It seems .•. that the Kennedy family, driven
in their grief as powerfully as in many other things, must
accept some responsibility for the truth that the sudden
folk hero has obscured the man'" [Loudon Wainwright,
'"Atlantic City and a Memory,'" b.:i:f..",. (9/4J67). p. 17J.
31 "The Presidency: Battle of the Book," [Link]."'. (12/23/66),
p. 15.
"''' Andy Logan, "JFK: The Stained Glass Image," !\.ill.§.!'::.:i..<::!.!'!:'.
!l~:L.t.t!'SL§!...!'IaR!'''''.!!:'.!'''.. (August 1967), p. 7. Enlightening here
was what Logan called the "style sheet" for historical
material. Stylistic rules included '"don't call Bobby
'Bobby', as everyone else does"; "pretend you have always
called the President's wife 'Mrs. Kennedy' or
'Jacqueline', not 'Jackie' as the whole world knows her";
"the President's father is not to be called 'Joe', 'Old
Joe,' or 'Big Joe'. Refer to him as Mr. Joseph P. Kennedy
or 'the Ambassador - and always respectfully" (p. 75).
"I:, :):J:>J.£i, p. 77.
:M !i§!l!!...Y9E![Link]§!§l. (5/23/64), p. 6; One of the few news
organizations that complied with suggestions to
commemorate Kennedy's birthday instead of his death was
!,!.~.G.!'J.l:. .§l. magazine. It published a commemorative article by
Theodore Sorensen under the simple title "May 29, 1967",
where Sorensen candidly discussed the gains to be had in
remembering Kennedy's birthday. This included a somewhat
peculiar statement that '"no matter how old or preoccupied
he became, John Kennedy always took a boyish delight in
celebrating his [Link] and opening presents" [Theodore
Sorensen, '"May 29, 1967," !'!9.G§.;I,.I.:'..!e. (June 1967), p. 59J.
""" Mel Elfin, "Beyond the Generations, '" !!. . ,.:"1...•.......lI!.!"'..lL§l......?D.>!.
\ligr.)& .. B.!"'.P.9x.:t (10/24/88), p. 33.
"'G Mi 1 ton Mayer, "November 22, 1963," Th§!.P.!'::9.9.!'::§!.§l.§lJ.Y.§!.
(December 1964), p. 25.
37 This favorable reception also lingered for the first
year or so after the Commission published its findings.
See
W the New York- .........................
...................................... Times. (9/29J64) or "November 22 and the
'" arren Report, '" GJ2.:"1. . J'!.§!.""'.'" (9/27/64).
" "John Kennedv's Death: The Debate Still Rages," !! ....P.,. .
~§!W§ ..!'!:'>!.W.9:r.1>!.R§!P9I:J:; (11/21 183), p. 49.
'" "JFKJMLK: Is There More to The Story?'" ?§!D..!gF.
?[Link]+ ,,§;!'JS. <11/18J76), p. 9. Also Calvin Trillin, '"The
Buffs,'" Th§! .. N§'.w"ygl:l:';.§'_~ (6/10/67), p. 42.
 257

AO priscilla McMillan, "That Time We Huddled Together,"

New .'Lqr\<;......TJ..ffi.~.§. (11/22/73), p. 37.
;·;····iion DeLillo, "American Blood: A Journey Through the
Labyrinth of Dallas and JFK," RQJ!. :i,DJL.~t.9TI~. (12/8/83), p.
28,
AS David Welsh and William Turner, "In the Shadow of
Dallas," R§[Link]!!:.t.§. (1/25/69), p, 62. Also see I'L~.~!......Y!?r.l<:.
Ti,)!!.§.§. (9/23/64), p. 20.
4.~ These included a summary report made available in both
hard and paper-cover by the Government Printing Office for
$3,25 and 1$2.50 respecti vel y, a N.~J!1......X.9!:.l<:.....I:i,ffi-"l§. soft-cover
edition avilable at 1$1.00 or an AP hard-cover edition made
available to members for 1$1.00 [N!?'o' ...XQr.l<: ...TAffi-"l§. (9/23/64),
p. 20] .
• 4 They included photographers Robert H. Jackson of the
!?§!.!1§!§ ..IJ..l1!~. . J:I§.!:.!"..1,.9. and Thomas Dillard of the P!"J.:t§§.
[Link],X!g.......N.~.'o'§., and Malcom Couch and James Darnell, both
television newsreel camerapersons (W.?};::.~_~.n,......g_Q.!![Link]. §_~,t9J].
B§[Link], pp. 64-65). Other reporters gave testimony about
the botched press conference at Parkland Memorial Hospital
and the televised shooting of Lee Harvey Oswald.
4'" N~'o'.... 'LQ.:rl<:_ ..TJffi.~.§. ( 9 1 23 1 64), p. 20.
"'" :rh.~._.\'i.!"XX.E'l-') .....R."'P9Xt (Published by the Associated Press,
1964). Interestingly, these pictures did not document the
assassination itself, only the moments that led up to it,
suggesting yet again the basic failure of photographic
technology to have captured the actual shooting of the
President •
.e~7 ~~,;r..~.r.L....g_Q.m.!!l:;L§.§?.i.9X!.......R.~.2.Q.;;::.t., 1964, P 5 366.
48 W, Shannon, N"''o' ..[Link]._T.!!'!"",.§. (10/19/71), p. 43.
49 Thomas Brown, 1988, p. 66.
50 IQ..~.9:.,. p • 51.
~. Quoted in Fred Bruning, "The Grief Has Still Not Gone
Away," !:!§l.S'.I".~.!"D.§. <11/28/88), p. 13 .
.,'" Quoted in William E. Leuchtenburg, "John F. Kennedy,
Twenty Years Later," Affi."'r:i,S'§!TI!:!.E'lrJ.t.!,,9""' ..!1.§l9§l.~J.!:!.~. <December
1983), p. 53.
t!;.?l Richard Baeth, UJFK: Visions and Revisions," N.~.~_~.~.§.I§:.~.
(11/19/73), p. 76.
54 Hamill, 1988, p. 46.
15e, IIA Primer of Assassination Theories, II g.§..g.~.~.!:'..§. <December
1966), pp. 205-10.
"" Mark Lane, [Link]"'.h.. t~L ..I.\,I.g.9)!!~D_t (New York: Holt, Rinehart,
1 96 6 ); Edward J. Epstein, In.g1,!-"l.§.t. (New York: Viking Press,
1 966) .
"'?
S James Kirkwood, [Link].E'lrtc:.?!.rL...G:.rQ1,.~§.qJl. §. (New York: Simon and
chuster. 1968). In the late 1980s, Garrison sought to
Publicize his version of the by-then de£unct case. See Jim
Garrison,
S h· On the Trail
......- .......................... of the
- ........................................ Assassins . (New York:
_............._-...........................................
erldan Square Press, 1988). But i t was largely derided
 icularly by Edward J. Epstein in an
[Link] simply [Link]€,~d ·'Garrig('n ... •• [The
(7113/68), pp. 35-811.
~s Richard Goodwin, .quoted in N~~ York Ttm~~ (7/24/66), p.
25.
~;:;'E~ "Assassination: Beh ind Moves To Reopen JFf( Case ,." lJ
N.",.,:,.",.sn.d .W<:,r 1 d ..F!erc)",t (6/2/75), p. 31.
60 The station was WNEW-TV, and the program was discussed
i n t h e N.'?_Y? '" ,Y9_;t::',,~ <11 1I5/E,6), p. 1.
",.:':1. (9/25/66) Ii' sec~ iv!, p~ 10~
6;~;: Herr Lson Sal i sbury l' fA, T,:i:,"~,~" ,.9.:(, Q_h,?D..9.?: (New York: Harper
and Row, 1988), P 71 ~ Ul timatel y, he admi t"ted .. ··the
s

massive inquiry remains on the shelf, unfinished,

unpublished~ .. Nothing in our new investigation undercut,
contradicted or undermined in any fashion the basic
conclusions of our original work or that of the Warren

.3
[Link]" (p~ 72) ~
See New Ynrk~Ilmes (6/29/67), p. 87 for review of first
part of series; nlso see TY . . _,G,Y.t?,,'? (6/29/67) ~
•• N~w York Times (6/25/67).
6~ CBS News Press Release (6/29/67), cited in Lane, 1968,
p. 98.
TV Guide (7/29/57).
6"7 Interestingly, this was the very point at which some of
the assassination bllffs faulted journalists, for not being
sufficiently investigative in their efforts to reopen the
assassination record. Sse Lane, 1968.
,.',0 "JFK: The Death and the Doubts," (12/5/66), p.
25.
6':,~ Jack Anderson" ~_!?~J})._r!_ g,t_<?_~
(313167) Q

"7 c) •• [Link] - Beh! nd Moves t.o Reopen JFK Case ~ ••

U,S,!'lews"[Link] (6/2/751. p. 30.
7'. "The American Assassins," '::;BS!'lew", (11/25/75-
11126175);, "Assassination: An American Nightmare," A~C
J>l.",,:,,,
<11/14/75); ",JFK: The Truth is Still At. Large," New
Tim",,; (4/18/75).
7. Michael Matza, "Five Still Probing the JFK Killing,"
PhJlad",lphia (11/22/88), p. 1-·E.
"7::~: uAssassJ nation: Behi nd Moves To Reopen the JFK Case -,,"
U.S. WorldF!eport. (6/12/75)" p. 32.
Geraldo Rivera" "Good Night America.
7.t1> AJ~,G :r1_~~_E? p ••

(3/26/75) Reviewed by Me", Tim",,,,. (3/27/75), p. 61

7~ Michael L. Kurtz, g~Dt~TY (Knoxville:
University o£ Tennessee Press p 1982) •
76 Jb,~4, p. 30, p. 158.
'n Jbid, p. 158.
78 Briefly? a few frequently-cited works on various
assassination involvements included Harold Weisberg's
?Jb ,:, "",ThE?' .._BEf:Jpor,:t.-. ()JI :t,:b,? ~a:rre:n ,R,f.!po,!',t;, (Hyatotst,own l'

Md: 1965) implicating the Dallas police; Wei's

 259

~JJhj 1;..~wash ~ .J~h.E;! "fBI - ~Jlp

(Hyattstown, Md: 1966) on FBI and Secret Service
involvement; Penn Jones, Jr.'s F9~giv~ ~y
(Midlothian, Texas: .Midloth M • 1966) on Texas
r ight..-wi ngers,: and Thomas G ~ Buchanan s Wlt9.. J<jJ +.E:),q
J'

Kennedy? (New Yorl<:: Putnam. 1964). which implicated right-

wing oil-men. Admittedly, there are many more.
'?'iY "A Decade of Unanswered Question.s~" B~}I.,--p.~._;t;:t,?>. (December
1973), p. 43.
'''''' 11:>.1.<:1.. p" 43.
tiH Charles Roberts, The Truth About the A",,,,,,,ssination (New
York: Grosset and Dunlap. 1967', p. 119. Interestingly.
Roberts also contended that the reason that conspiracy
books were so well-received was because they got good
reviews from people little acquainted with the
assassination~ He said: ··Where the newspaper had [Link]
journeyman reporters - many of them veterans of Dallas -
to 'cover' the Warren Report, their book editors assigned
Ii critics - including some who had only a headline-
readers# knowldge of the assassination - to review the
books that appeared to destroy the Warren Report" (p.
118) .
ti;',;;? "Assassina-tion: Behind Mc)vee. to Reopen ,JFK Case,"
lII.e.",.5 .. <'lI1dWgrldReport, p. 31.
83 "A Decade of Unanswered Questions," 1973, p. 43.
1;\/'1. Michael Rossman, uThe vJedding Within [Link] War?" cited in
Mitchel Stephens, g:fIllEl'''''' (New York: Viking
Press, 1988). p. 125 .
•• Morley, 1988, p. 646. Particularly among leftists, the
feverish discussion in favor of conspiracy wes analysed as
"8 cuI ture of n~~[Link]·· by Christ,opher Lasch [c:pl l::ur.e
N~~~i§s~~m (New York: W.W. Norton, 1979)]. This was
evident in the search for immediate political highs and
fascination with the sensational that characterized the
conspiracy theorists.
C,\(-,"-, "A Decade of Unans\<Jered Quest_ions!," 1973, p~4:4.
87 As early as 1973, one writer juxtaposed the Kennedy
assassination and the Nixon impeacbment as "paraphrases of
each other" - two examples of p8rricide~ See Priscilla
McMillan, "That Time We Huddled Together.," lII",w [Link]
(11/22/731, p. 37. While this is not the theme advanced
hers, i t nonetheless suggests distinct parallels between
the two events and a deep-seated psychological need for
documentary questioning.
S 8 Contending that both agencies had lied to the Warren
Commission? Senateor R. Schwei ker comment_ed t,hat.. ··we pUrSl,18
some hot leads" to resolve who killed [Link] [N.~.w~".Y9:r:~{
Tt~,,~.§. (5/15/76) r p~ 13] ~ FC)r example_~ as latl? as 1,977, the
FBI even issued its own report on the assassination that
took 14 years Bnd over BOrOOa pages of documentation, and
 2 c:;:. 0

which basically u Id the WarrRn Commission Report's

conclusion [Link]. OsttJald had act,ed alone ["The FBI.I's Report
on ,JFK's Death," TIm.e (12/19/77), p. 18]. This '~as at. a
time that the climate of opinion was moving steadily
towards interpretations of conspiracy.
8 9 Kurtz, 1982, p. 87. Kurtz provides a detailed analysis
o:f the Clark Panel. Il1so see. 1.968 P",nel [Link].",'of
PI'-~.9t_()ST.?[Link].?i" ~f?~Y Documents and Other Evidence
to (?:f, __ "Pr..ee;j,9.~n~~ JqhI} F.
K:~I1rl~9Y" 9" J~.[Link],l1}):?,~.~~ (Washington,
D.C.: National Archives, Undated Report).
'£+)0 B~PQJ:~.t... _ :t:9 the !?Y. .t"hf::~.,C9mrn~s.t5 ..[Link] on C,I,A.
U:.h..i.I1.... [Link]. [Link]
, Nelson A.
Rockefeller, Chairman <Washington. D.C.: 1975).
g1 Not incidentallYF Exner had at the same time served as
the mistress of two Mafia :f who had allegedly
participated in CIA plots against the Cuban leader - John
Roselli and Sam Giancana [U.S.
G9Ji\ Ji\Jt t.",.[Link] ....S1: udyG",,,,,,rnmel1 ta 1 . Qper",ti en,,,, . '~+ . ~.
In,t::.~,+I..i,Sl~.fiC::,f?, ".j\q.t~ V ,1, t). e-?p 1. e,g,f?d i I).<?.:f;. i 9D. I? lots
J,DY.9.~,y _:i 1).9,__ ."f.9:[Link].9D.,."."J:"..~9.g.§,T:? ..:.. , ,A.D.... IDt.~:rj:"W" ,R.~P.9X"t> (Wash l. Dgton-"
D.C.: 11/20/75), p. 129: cited in Thomas Brown, 1988, pp.
72-3J. Suggestions o:f the Judith Campbell Exner -JEK
connection were f iret_ leak03d to the W.~§:.!}J.r~9.t·.9D.
(12/17/75) and were confirmed following a press conference
which Exner convened in 1975, where she admitted having
regularly seen Kennedy but did not confirm having sexual
relations with him o£ having acted as a courier with the
Mafia [See "JFK and the Mobsters' Mall," Ii~e (12/29/75)
and "A Shadow Over Camelot.... Newsweek (12/29/75)J. In
N..~l.¥I.,s,,'.e.'~.I<"'.,,:?', view, Exner'" S .'?!.t,ory at, ·the [Link] ··broke a
gentleman"'s code of silence that had long sheltered
Kennedy"'s private dive't"sions from public [Link]·· in that she
was ·'[Link] £irst~ of t~he Other Women in h is Ii fa t,o come
:forward out of the shadow land of gossip, with
[Link] for her claim tC) his int,e,rest~·· (p~ 14) ~
Sexual relations between the two were confirmed by the
Church committee, but by 1988, Exner herself corrected
ear 1 fer adm iE-sians,~ when t,hrough p~9'ple magazine she
admitted simultaneous affairs with Giancana anrl Kennedy~
as a means of sB:t'vicing Kennedy ["The Dark [Link] of
Camelot.... Pe(2)", (2/29/88), pp. 106-114l .
•• ~§~Y9r~~T (7/2/76), sec. I, p. 26.
',,):;:7'; '"The [Link] That Won I' t Go AtHay p" Th~. S.k3J"l.n~·da,y'
Post. (December 1975), pp. 38-9. Interestingly, the same
article also pinpointed the journal"'s activity in
reopening the assassination. It went on to claim: ··In a
January 1967 edit,orial rbe Sa~.~r~~y ~Y~D.tD9 .post called
for a reopening of the case p noting that #the possibility
of a conspiracy is too ugly and too important to be left
to p and speculation,? and in December 1967 i t again
urged a new investigation. Now, eight years later, the
editors and staff of the Post voice their hopes that the
doubts of more than '8 decade will finally be put to rest··
(p. 39).
~4 The claim was made by Representative Walter Fauntroy on
[Link] TV program f\rrter_ic0P s Bl ,_forum [New York Time~:>
(4/24/77), p. 18].
gm Jack Anderson, Wa§tina~2n (3/3167).
't,'U'!, Wal t,Br [Link].~ G,13.? "J;:ye:n_i:P_9 News (4/25/75) ~ Also see
Ne'" York Time.s. (4/26/75). p. 12.
97 This particularly centered on an FBI memo which
[Link] conversations between Lee Harvey Oswald and Cuban
o££icials about OswaldPs intention to kill Kennedy, and
which was never given to the Commission. As the New York
Tjm~~ said, this suggested that the Warren Commission's
conclusion of OswaldPs lone culpability was based on
incomplet.e evidence [N€lW ),orl,TJ.l11.€l.s (1/13/76), p. 9J
Also see Kurtz, 1982, p. 206.
,e David Welsh and William Turner, "In the Shadow of
Dallas," Rampart.s (1/25/69), p. 71. One-half of the FBI
reports and 90% of the CIA documentation was also still
classi£ied~
'a'a Don Delillo, "American Blood~" ~ol.1Jn.9 St,one (12.18/83),
p. 24.
tOO Tom lNicker 7 "Kennedy Wi thout, End,. Amen!"" ~,?q_~~ ..i..re, (June
1 977), p. 57.
101 Morley, 19S8,. p. 649.
1~:]2 Thomas Brown, 1988, p. 76.
'.0'" [Link]<. Times (11/18/76). p. 17.
1~~4 David W. Belin, f,~na,l (New York: MacMillarl,
1988), p. 187. Belin contended that the committee made an
about-face three weeks be£ore handing over its verdict, at
which point it hastily and, in his view, messily adopted a
pro-conspiracy line in its deliberations.
3,O~ Kurtz, 1982, p. 160.
iO,"'. New Tir~e.s (12/31/78). p. 1.
i. O? ~J.",\oJ Vor k T (7/15/79). p. 1.
1,~e Thomas Brown, 1988~ p. 79.
:1.0,":'" Kurtz" 1982,~ pp~ 186~ 187.
:1. :.1. (] FranJ", Donner.~ ··Consp i rael es Un 1 i roi [Link] f".' Th_e __.N<i.:t" :Lop
(12/22/79), p. 554.
:l:1. 3. ~Josiah Thompson, quote~d in "Who Shot, President,
Kennedy?" N2ya (11/15/88).
:1.:1. ;"~ Don Dell i 10 I' o. Amer lean Blood r" RO.~,tiJlg . ~_tone
(12/8183), 22. p.
ii3 DeLillo, 1983. p. 22.
13,4 David S. Lifton, B~§t Ev (New York: Carroll and
Graf Pub],ishers, 1980), introductory remarks.
 262

11~ The book was a 1988 renewal of an earlier theory that

Oswald intended to kill Connally and not Kennedy. See
'"25th Anniversary of JFK's Assassination," NJg..h,t..,+".i..!H'!., ABC
NeWs (11/22/88).
1 1 .. il!h. ,?_.. ?J}[Link]'l:'..'2§. :i,g'2J:lt$~.pJ:l'[Link]., Spec i alE d i t i on of N'?Y~
(11/15/88), PBS Productions. This program was in some ways
an updated and more sophisticated version of an earlier
CBS Special, screened in June 1967, where Walter Cronkite
screened on-site acoustic tests (N.'2.w.......Y.'?,l:'.Is.....Ti.'!'..'2.§ (6/29/67),
p_ 87.). The earlier program was~ in one observer's eyes?
"a major journalistic achievement ... a masterful
compilation o£ facts~ interviews p experiments and opinions
_ a job of journalism that will be difficult to surpass"
[!\LJ;:!gJ .g~., cited in Mar k Lane.. !L.G:iti.:;;'2p-'.JeP..i§§~!}t (N ew
York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1968), p. 98],
Regardless, it is telling that teleVision, the most
technologically-determined of news media, would have taken
it upon itself to produce an overview of the different
technologies, bodies of expertise and evidence by which i t
was possible to differentially "read" Kennedy's death. The
fact that the 1988 show was more technologically advanced
than the earlier one only fit in with surrounding
discourse about technology? evidence, testimony and
expertise.
'-'-7 Mark Lane, l1___G.i,t..t:;;',m. ~. .§ ......P.i_§.§'2.P.t, (New York: Holt,
Rinehart and Winston, 1968), p. 96. Continued Lane: "Since
Sevareid is stationed in Washington, D.C., he might easily
have journeyed to the National Archives and there asked
for the index-source material relied upon by the
commission II (p. 97).
11<1 iI!~§h:i,ng.t_'?npq§t, (11/23/88), p. A8.
, •• Mary McGrory, "You Had to Be There to Know the Pain,"
lliJ!.§Ll:Lt!}9..t'?J:l.!"'?§t (11 I 20 I 83), P . F1.
' " , 0 Henry Allen, "JFK: The Man and the Maybes," W.~§.h,.iJ:[Link]:l
P..Q§t. (11/22/88), p. E2.
,.". \IJ ill i am Manchester, Qn~. __..~.l:'...L'2J ....?.h. i . pJ. p.9.... !'!'?.'!',§..pt (Boston:
Little, Brown, 1983). Other examples here included Jacques
Lowe's Kennedv: A Time Remembered (New York:
Quartet;;ii;;;;:;;;;i"A~-t~;"i983);;;-;:;dPi;i lip B. Kunhardt.
Jr.(ed.),
K Life
.................... ,in Camelot
.............................. -....................... (New York: Time Inc , 1988).
-~ll!l. ~. g_y. (Landsburg Productions).
,'''. Morley, 1988, p. 649.
11E:3 IIC 1 .. .
"c ame at .ReV1Slted," Ih§ . .!i!?t;J,.9.P. (11/19/83), p. 483;
,,,,!mel ot On Tape," :r..i.,!,,~. (7/4/83), p. 122.
Goldman, "Kennedy Remembered," 1983. p. 63.
~"''' Herbert S. Parmet, ,:[.f. K;.......:r.h~.... P.l::'2§,io..g'2P5"y._ ..gJ .. ,:['?!:m....f ....
-,~!!.!l.§<:Iy. (New York: Dial Press, 1983).
"'" E xamples included "A Great President? Experts size up
J FK " U
, . . .-,. ? ..... N~'1.§.~[Link].9l::tgB..'2P.9l:'t (11/21/83), .. p. 51; Lance
 263

Morrow. "After 20 Years. the Question: How Good A

president?" IJ,!l!!!'!. (11/14/83), p. 58.
"~-? N.€.~.. X9.'Ll<: .._Tt!l!€§ (2/17/85).
+.
,. ",Col PJ..9, p. 649.
,.?-'" Don Delillo, !e..:i,..PT.". (New York: Viking Press, 1988);
Morley, "Camelot and Dallas," p. 649.
,.,,0 James Reston, Jr., Th€.!'::':.P€gt"tJ9!1.§.9:[.}9hPG9PP,,1l,y
(New York: Harper and Row, 1989); excerpted in James
Reston .• Jr., "Was Connally the Real Target?" T.:i,..,.€.
(11/28/88), pp. 30-41. Reston and Connally were also
interviewed on ABC's N..t9.h.t.1J.!1.€. (11/22/88).
,-"n These incl uded John H. Davis' !:1.".f.:i,."._.~..:i,..![Link].§h and David
E. Scheim's G.Q.!}.tT."'.gt....9P....!'.!]l.§.rJ. g."'. (New York: Zebra Books,
1988), both of which were discussed in detail in "Did the
Mob Kill ,TFK"? IJ!]l§. (11/28/88), pp. 42-44.
",'''~ Gary Wi Ils, Ih§.. K§!!!:!.E'~9Y... :J:.!l!ErJ.§9.!}.,€pt. (New York: Pocket
Books, 1982); Peter Collier and David Horowitz, Th.€.
K§.!}.!:!§'.9Y.§. (New York: Warner Books, 1984).
"'"'" John Gregor·y Dunne, "Elephant Man," (Review of Gary
Wi 11 s ' Ih€J<:.§!1!}€2y:I: mE.r.:i,.§'9..!1..m.€.!1. t.), N€W.Y9r l<:.J~.§y.;l,€.,!,.g.f..J~.9.9.!'&
(4/15/82), p. 10.
'~4 Pete Hamill, "JFK: The Real Thing," (11/28/88), p. 46.
1~"' N.€)eI ...X.9..rl<: .....I:l.!]l.€§': (11/23/87), sec ii. p. 10. This was
somewhat revived during the following year, when estimates
of [Link] people in Dealey Plaza ranged from 400 [N.€'!' ...Y9".!S.
[Link])€§' (11/23 I 88), P . A16] to 2. 500 [\A!",§h!.!1..9t"'_rlP9.§i
(11/23/88), p. All.
Thomas Brown, 1988, p. 76.
1.:37
Peter Goldman, "'Kennedy Remembered p " (11/28/83). p.
64.
"'". Jefferson Morley, "Camelot and Dallas: The Entangling
Kennedy Myths," Ih€.N",.t.:i,9D. (12/12/88), p. 649.
,.'"'" Jefferson Mar ley said as follows: "The \A!."§h.Jp9..t9!:l........P..9..§.t.
said the truth would never be known. A !e9.§..... !'!!:l..9.€. J..€.§ ....IJ.!]l.€.§
reporter dared to conclude that the Warren Commission was
right. N.€.~§.~.€.€.l<:. left the public misgivings about the
government"'s version o£ events to an inarticulate barber
in Iowa" (Morley, "Camelot and Dallas," 1988, p. 649).
' 4 0 Don Delillo, "American Blood: A Journey Through the
Labyrinth of Dallas and JFK," B91J..:LQ.9.~.tgQ€ (12/8/83), p.
24.
14. Christopher Lasch, "The Life of Kennedy's Death,"
!:!."!;:P~r§' (October 1983), p. 32.
'4S, ;[I.I<:... ABC News 01 I 11 I 83) .
.4:
p
1o!."~ N
.··.§!~Xqrl<:_I~.r~€.§ (8 I 18 I 87), p. 8.
Henry Allen, "JFK: The Man and the Maybee," \~"'§.h.J.!:![Link]
..SO!"t. (11/22/88), p. E2.
'4" Pete Hamill, "JFK: The Real Thing," (11/28/88), pp.
46-7.
 264

14& Cited in Frank Donner~ "Conspiracies Unlimited,"

(12/22/79), p. 657.
 265

CHAPTER SEVEN

NEGOTIATING MEMORY: SITUATING PROFESSIONAL RETELLERS

The establishment of Kennedy's assassination as a

viable locus for retellers trying to professionally

authenticate themselves through memory encouraged a wide

range of speakers to situate themselves in and around its

story. The emergence of certain retellers as preferred

over others took place through the attempts of many groups

vying to tell their versions of the same tale. Tensions

were created by the different strategies of self-

authorization they used.

In this chapter, I explore the process by which

journalists have emerged as the preferred retellers of the

assassination story. I first examine the practices of

credentialling that took place across groups of different

retellers - notably, assassination buffs and historians. I

then explore how journalists borrowed from the

professional codes of other speakers to establish

themselves as the story's preferred retellers. Finally, I

Consider how journalists solidified their credentials for

the story by strategically situating themselves inside it.

 266

COMPETING [Link]'MEMORY

The assassination story 10ClJS around

which different groups of retaIlers were constantly

shifting in an effort to authorize their versions of what

had happened. Implicit in [Link] its story 'Was the

question of who was authorized to speak for the events of

Kennedy's death. In retelling, authority was negotiated

through continuing tensions by which retellere appraised

[Link] rightful positioning not only of themselves but of

others.

Uncertainty over how to best position oneself was

reflected in how speakers borrowed from the professional

codes of groups: His·torians were labelled

[Link] palr]ned themselves off as

h istor lans ,: assas~:;i, nation buffs .sought. tel be called

muck:rakers~ These shared references :for professional

[Link] not only Buggested how shaky

terrain on which all retellers stood, but how valued a

terra i 1'1 it v.J8.S n

Speakers seeking to retell the tale came £rom all

[Link] of lifel' and they used the assassination to unravel

their own interpretive sidebars to the events of Kennedy~s

death. The group which most. directly

contest for the position of authorized spokesperson was

the assassination buffs.

 267

[Link] OF '.J"",coaIN AT ION BUFFS

Although init..ially derided as ··crankg H

or

"prof i [Link]" by the end of [Link] [Link] the

assassinat,ion buffs had E~merged as a primary group by

which the assassination [Link] ¥Jould be reliably told.

After public cynicism about documentary process set in and

later solidified by Watergs lee. the Vietnam War, and

revelations about CIA operations, ··o:£ficials and the

American public (were) more [Link]

[Link] theory as possible u ,iii:

This by implication

:focused attention on the buffs, who had been directly

responsible for forwarding notions of conspiracy.

TBE:.EVOL,UTION OF THE BUFFS. The buffs posed a

direct challenge to [Link] ability of other professional

groups seeking to pClsi t . .:Lon theme'.el ves a.s authorized

spokespeople of the story. Despite their amateurism, they

turned an interest in [Link] events of KennedyP s death into

an avocation? with sleuth ranks including sales-personnel,

graduat.e students and housevl i ves ~ Their function was to

"get around·' the [Link] officel account. As journalist

Richard Rovere ,eo,aid in his introduction

book. t_he record

and disentangling the evidenCE) :from the. conclusions" ~:'"

Attempts by the buffs to retell the assassination

from their point of view were complicated by the fact that

 268

they did not constitute a cohesive Bocial group~ They

lacked both a communi.t,y and collective

behavioural standards by which to practice their trade. As

magazine reported:

an aura of unanimous acceptance had grown up

around the official version of what had happened
in Dallas, and most Americans did not even want
to listen to any theories that contradicted it.
Most of the assassination buffs, even those with
a large circle of friends? suffered for at least
a while from the special kind of loneliness that
comes from being obsessed by something that
nobody else seems to care about 4 .

Their efforts were comprised of independent but often

parallel investigations? which ranged from that of Sylvia

Meagher" who on "finding the cOIDnlission'" s index next teo

useless prepared and [Link] her own" r:.~/I to [Link]. of

David Lifton, who left a Master"'s in Engineering to

pursue his own investigation~

The lonely and i,dioyncratic nature of being a buff

presupposed a need for codes of validation. Eventually a

sense of community was forged when many buffs discovered

others with similar sentiments, and there sprouted an

informal network for sharing information. But the buffs

also needed to validate themselves externally, within

behavioral [Link] that were £[Link] to the general

public. They thereby sought to authenticate themselves

through the professional codes of other groups of

rete 11 ers.~ figuring ·that. understanding the buffs within

 269

the con£ines o£ journalistic or historical activity was

easier than contemplating them as an independent entity,

seemingly sprung £rom nowhere.

While the bu££s' investigation o£ the assassination

did not immediately gain momentum because "they did not

have the resources to get answers £or many o£ the

questions they proposed,"

the very £act that they asked them was vitally-

important, £or they broke ground the Warren
Commission was disposed to ignore 6 .

A R!..mp.~x.t_",. investigation o£ the bu££s' e££orts claimed

"they were doing the job the Dallas police, the FBI and

the \~arren Commission should have done in the £irst place"

As time wore on, and other quarters £ailed to address

the questions that the bu££s raised, their presence within

the assassination story began to generate serious

questions over whether o££icial experts were needed to

adequately deconstruct the assassination record. At heart

o£ discussions o£ their role in retelling the

assassination story were thus considerations about the

role o£ the amateur in a world generally run by experts,

and a mound o£ poorly evaluated evidence in a context

where tidy o££icial piles o£ documentation were assumed to

have worked best. As one bu££ said,

It's possible that (what I've £ound) is

completely unscienti£ic. But my answer to people
saying 'you're no expert' is 'where are the
experts?' a
 270

From the

[Link]~ the buffs saw themselves driven by concerns that

were shared by both journalists and historians.

"Constantly aware of the place in history reserved to

whoever solves the puzzle" o:f Kennedy' 5 death ~~ ~ history

motivated them to pursue their investigations. Generally

nonplussed by the crevices they added to the record, they

sought to advance their often idiosyncratic versions o£

events with the general population. "Only in textbooks was

history tidy," said one editorial in their support ~O, in

effect suggesting both that history was the ultimate locus

of the assassination record but that historians needed

assistance in its construction.

Other retallers tended at first to dismiss the quirky

theories they propounded. Kennedy's in-house historians,

for example, originally ignored the raucus being generated

by the more vocal Commission critics. Yet there seemed to

be a growing, if uneasy, recognition of the fact that the

assassination buffs addressed points about the

assassination that historians had failed to see. This

became particularly problematic as the volume of

retellings by assassination buffs increased over time,

taking the place generally assumed by historical record.

A number of journalists, accustomed to acting

themselves as a :fourth estate o£ government, found that

 271

bu££S~ practices encroached on their territory and

labelled them a "media o££spring" ii. Journalist Charles

Roberts exempli£ied a characteristic trend o£

dismissiveness when he maintained that "clearly the

pattern with Warren Commission critics is: 1£ the experts

agree with you, use them. 1£ they don't, ignore them·' ""'.

Interestingly, the £act that the same had been o£ten said

about the journalistic community did not promote the same

kind o£ evaluations about journalism. Criticism £ocused on

the bu££s' lack o£ expertise and the £act that they based

their authority an a groundwork laid by the press corps.

Journalists in particular £aulted them £or building their

assassination libraries from newspaper clippings, thereby

constructing an assassination record on documents provided

largely by journalists In an environment where

journalists themselves sought ·to emerge as the

assassination's authorized spokespeople, the bu££s'

dependence an journalistic record was problematic. For

they needed to set themselves apart £rom journalists,

establishing their authority as an independent

interpretive community, and that objective was obscured by

their usage o£ journalistic documents to do so.

PISTANCING MECHANJSMS AND_JHE BUF~~. In attempting

to authorize themselves, the bu££s particularly tried to

distance themselves £rom the journalistic community. They

 272

were critical that journalists had not adequately realized

their own professional calling. I'Reporters were everywhere

in Dallas that day," said one buff, but the record they

provided flstill remains inexplicable ll :/• .(+

Another held

that after the assassination,

we all thought, ' i t ' s almost going to break.

This is just too blatant and obvious. There are
bright newsmen working on this thing.' Well, of
course it didn't break ~~

Buffs accused journalists of knowingly or unknowingly

failing to "break the story," their inability to exercise

professional authority seen as contributing to the defects

of the assassination record.

Other buffs complained that the media refused to play

out their stories: David Lifton faulted the national media

both television and print :for its reluctance to

:1.
address the issues raised in ~;.
Similar

complaints were levelled by Mark Lane, perhaps the most

vocal assassination buff. Journalistic failure at times

prompted the buffs to take up the task of documentary

exploration themselves.

It is worth examining Lane's contentions in detail,

because they underscored how the buffs in many cases

regarded themselves as journalists. Lane's book, A.

began as a call to journalistic

conscience, where he contended that European reporters

 273

were puzzled by the obvious endorsement of the

(Warren Commission) document by the American
press ... they asked how the independent American
newspaperman had been silenced or cajoled into
supporting the Report 1 7 .

Bothered by the failure of a call to arms by Americ811

journalists, he asked ""how do the American media act when

a matter of historic dimensions occurs and when the

Government takes the very firm position that that which is

demonstrably false is true?" ~.a Providing his O~Jn answer,

he called American journalists a IIbiddable press" and

contended that the American people lacked confidence ··in

the media for their many efforts to endorse the Report"

19

Lane also vigorously contested the selective - and in

his eyes wrongful exercise of memory displayed by

certain reporters. Directly in his line of fire was UPI

reporter Merriman Smith:

(He) had been awarded the Pulitzer Prize for his

eyewitness reporting of the assassination. If
ever one wishes to develop an argument against
such awards, one need merely reread the Smith
dispatches from Dallas in the light of the facts
now known, making allowance for the fact that
standards which an historian might be expected
to adhere to cannot be applied tD a reporter eo

Although Lane's comments at times assumed the tone of a

they nonetheless exemplified how the buffs tried

to authorize themselves thrDugh the standards followed by
other groups of speakers. In this case, Lane bypassed the
 274

reportorial standard in favor of the historical one, all

in an attempt to legitimate the buffs' endeavors.

Yet in general, Lane attempted to recast the buffs'

tellings as effective journalism. In concluding his book,

Lane called for a reopening of the official investigation,

saying that

the heroes of journalism are not those who

crusade for the popular, who attack the weak and
who are awarded the much-sought prizes. They are
those [Link] calmly assess the evidence .. those who
do not permit a sense of self to interfere with
their professional obligations. They are too
few; they are a disappearing breed 21

The reference again to "heroes of journalism," and the

attempt to legitimate the work of the buffs as the best of

journalism, was telling.

Lane's claims were important for two reasons: They

not only undermined the authority of journalists vis a vis

the assassination, as appeared to be his intention, but

they contextualized the work of the buffs as investigative

reporting. In other words, the assassination buffs were

seen - amongst themselves, i£ not others - as assuming the

role of the press corps. Lane's framing of the buffs'

efforts within a larger discourse about journalists and

journalism suggested how related were the two spheres of

practice. It also suggested the implicit centrality of

journalists to retelling the assassination story.

 275

Lane's comments also suggested an understanding of

hoW pro£essionalism is conveyed in discourse? with the

buffs promoted by chipping away at the exclusivity with

which certain behavior was traditionally associated with

other groups of retellers. By framing his discussion as

journalism, Lane thereby blurred both the amateurism of

the buffs and the professionalism of the journalists. This

exercise elevated the professionalism of the buffs at the

same time as i t detracted from the professionalism of

reporters~ casting the buffs as respondents to the

professional challenges raised by the journalistic

community.

History \~as an integral part o£ assassination

retellings. Observers made much of the fact that Kennedy

had had an affinity for history. In an article called

"History on His Shoulder," I:i,.ffi.§.. correspondent Hugh Sidey

held that Kennedy "knew he was on history's stage"

Jackie Kennedy was quoted as saying that "history made

Jack what he was'l Nancy Dickerson explained that

Kennedy videotaped his activities "because he thought that

they could provide a new kind of record, a record so that

people in the future could look back and see history more

directly £or themselves" i;:;:"'~~ Kennedy's intere.e.t in history

was thus set up as a context which anticipated the

 276

reciprocal interest shown him by historians after his

death.

historians did not directly address the assassination,

they did mention the loss it embodied. They not only

engraved it within the nation's collective consciousness,

but planted it firmly within the kinds of contexts that

made it meaningful. Arthur Schlesinger Jr.'s A--IP9~§nd

Qays and Theodore Sorensen's [Link] provided generally

sympathetic views on the Presidency from persons who had

served on the Whi te House staff "'"". The reprinting of many

of these publications in popular magazines assured their

availability to a wider public ~~.

Yet their attempts to do so were met with antagonism

by other retellers. It was as if what one reporter called

"a historian's detachment'" was not well-positioned

within the story's retelling. This sentiment was

particularly evident among journalists, perhaps because

differences between the two groups, traditionally

considered ones of perspective or temporal distance, did

not bear out in the assassination's retelling. While

historical references implied an authority to be applied

·'after the fact," precisely what constituted "after t he

factll in the case o£ Kennedy's assassination remained

Unclear. The story's many loose ends did not yet call for
 277

perspective of detachment. Thus the persistence of the

a
story's retellers failed to provide cues as to whose

i t was to report it. The legitimate parameters of

the charter of I·reporting history·' remained unclear to

all potential retellers.

This generated doubts as to the viability of one

definitive history about the assassination~ Doubts were

expressed over whether one history was possible,

attainable or desirable, as were questions over the role

of historians in retelling the events of Kennedy's death.

Part of this rested with the larger regard for the

constructed ness of the assassination record, which by

definition assumed that there were many versions of the

events of Kennedy's death, not just one.

Public critiques were levelled on historians"

performances, particularly by journalists.

critiqued for "missing the boat": "Historians Lost in the

Mists of Camelot .. was how one article in the !e.9.§......Ang.§!J. §'..§.

[Link]]l.§'.§. proclaimed readings of Kennedy's administration and

assassination ~8. Journalists spoke of certain historians

as stuffy, distanced observers whose analyses of all

things pertaining to Kennedy suffered from their formality

Even one historian admitted that:

For the most part, professional scholars have

neglected the assassination, as if i t never
occurred This lack
5 of attention has created a
vacuum filled by journalists, free-lance
 278

writers and others, most o£ whom have examined

the assassination more for its sensational value
than for its objective value 3 0 .

The narrative, professional and perspectival standards

regularly employed by historians were all seen as working

against renewed considerations of the assassination story.

They also failed to underscore the importance of memories

as a viable way of documenting it.

One direct challenge to the legitimate presence of

historians within the assassination story came from writer

Theodore White. White had enjoyed an e>:tensive

relationship ,d th Kennedy o,hile wri ting T.h.§'......!~L'l}5 . i..!'..9. .... .9f.....'l..

and his relatively easy access to

Kennedy's 1000 days in office made him a familiar face at

the ~Jhi te House. On such a basis Jackie Kennedy summoned

him the week after Kennedy died, having decided she wanted

him to write about the slain President:

She had asked me to Hyannis Port, she said,

because she wanted me to make certain that JFK
was not forgotten in history. She thought i t was
up to me to make American history remember .•• She
wanted me to rescue Jack from all the 'bitter
people' who were going to write about him in
history. She did not want Jack left to the
historians :.>;:1...

From their meeting came the title of "Camelot." This

memorable construction of Kennedy's administration made a

journalist~, not a historian, responsible for popularizing

Kennedy's memory~ transforming him into an instant

 279

evaluator of history. Such a fact was energetically

stressed by journalists in their chronicles across media.

In search ror history's precise role Or history

within the assassination story, interest was also stirred

in other potentially authoritative voices, as that

exemplified by fiction. History and journalism were

posit'ed alongside fiction and drama .. Edward Epstein

lambasted William Manchester's reputedly "authorized"

novel frivolously begun as R,""_~.t_h._ . 2.:LJ=.!'!l2S:.""£. O'~". Underlying

all these discussions was the fact that retellers of the

assassination competed with a number of perspectives and

agendas in retelling the assassination story. There was

thus a growing awareness that the assassination story

could be seen by many different perspectives, dependent on

one's larger aims in telling it.

RJeGQt:1f_PRI ____ {,LITH __:nu::RQI,.J:;:. Qfl:ll:_eTORIA.NS. One

consequence of this was an extensive back-biting,

particularly by journalists, about historians' efforts at

record construction. Articles debated whether Arthur

SchleSinger's work constituted more IIgossip" than

His memoirs were discussed under the title

"Peephole Journalism,·' with the somewhat caustic comment

that "he has made the most o£ a £ew occasions when he was

permitted to see more than [Link] average reporter"'

>-

L
 280

Reporter Meg Greenfield castigated the work of memoirists

about the Kennedy administration, through a discussion o£

commonly-accepted journalistic practices:

Any reporter can tell you how hard it is to

recall even a brief quotation word for word
after an interview, and the fact that certain
memoirists repaired to their diaries in the
evening is not even mildly reassuring in view of
the extensive verbatim exchanges they have
produced '::;';4 ..

These tensions in part emerged from whether it was

the journalist's or historian's mission to report history.

Chronological and linear demarcations between the two

professions "'Jere somewhat blurred by the story's

persistence. That fact in itself created spaces where

different groups of public spokespeople could contest the

right to tell the story's authorized version. But it was

exacerbated by the varied involvement by which different

groups sought to professionally authenticate themselves

via the tale's telling. Professional needs thereby

intensified the circumstances for competition among

different groups of speakers. As DeLillo admonished,

"establish your right to the mystery, document it, protect

itll It ",as a challenge directly taken up by all

[Link] of the assassination, but it was a challenge to

which journalists appeared particularly well-suited.

 28:1

SITUATING THE JOURNALIST

Si [Link]. in9 j()urnal iE3t.£C. and around the

ase,assination t~hu~;. f:",haped. in [Link] with

t . hc:. r(~t,e 1.1 i ngs of [Link] other qroups ox 1on,31

- assassination buffs and historians. Journalists

reworked basic standards of action common to both groups

in order to fashion their own authority for retelling the

events of Kennedy's death.

It is [Link] that. the hierarchy sug by

retellers of the assassination story

according to which assassination buffs [Link] to be

labelled .io'Urnalists, or better yet historians;

iournalists were intrigued by their historical role i:n

retelling the assassination: and hi.E,t:.. orians

uphold t,he!r own position as tellers-from-a-

distance to be unravelled over time~ All

ional tales :focused lore o£ ional

memories~ But co:mpeti t,ion among reteller~, to a

rC12,e and fell [Link] availabi.1.i of

t,hrough which to promot,e one $$ version of

assassi n£:1tion record. Members of alternate forums for

[Link] KennedyR s assassination competitively st~rove

to tell their versions of the tale of his death according

t,o the availability of such stages.

 282

This was crucial to the emergence of journalists as

x'st,elIers". for it gave t,hem the upper hand over

otJ-ler ,::p::-oups of speakers. In contrast to other groups _~

jout"n,glists easy and continued access to the

[Link]~ The c:ent.r-;:1J they played in bringing the tales

e,f all includinq historians and as,sassinat. ion

buf£s~ to the public at times made them into mediators of

a record in-the-making. In a sense, they became moderators

of all versions of the assassination tale. Their ability

mediate tales that were and

ted by other therefore worked to their

advantage~

Journalist!?;·,~ regular appearances

thrust them into the forefront of the assassination story .

For example .. a 1988 .5rtic~le in the ./lngl ee; Time,s, by

Jack Valenti was [Link] '"Anni ver~:.ary of an

ABsae:,g i os i:, i. () n : a and

the of Valenti.l's memorie.s in

documenting what had A 1983 special edition

of America :featured t..he personal and

professional memories of a number of and

photographers who had been with in Dallas

Each independently established where in t.,hc~

President,tal motorcade t_hey had been and

remembered~ Sign if icant 1 y,~ the [Link] pro9:ram was

 283

com pr.i :::;:!;,ed of such recollections@ [Link] by 1983

memories alone had bE:~gun to be considered z,:.uf£icient.

documentation of the events in Dallas.

The ional memories of journalists became even

more entrenched by 1988, media ives

included them in a wide array of forums. Journa 1 i st~s i'

recol1ect.-i ons c:'ompr,ised [Link] s{;ogment..t'? o£ PBS

doc:umen called A T

billed !:'''l.S a ··[Link] of reminiscences about_ t~he £al1 of

Camelot. ~ •• Journalists ranging :from Nancy Dickerson and

Charles Bartlett to Tom Wicker, Sarah McClendon and Dan

[Link] inscribed what [Link] saw l' heard and remembered. By

1988, journalistic presence at the events of Kennedy" :3

- symbolic or physical was being extensively

referenced across media. Journalists' memories began to be

legitimated over those of other grollps o£

Indeed, by the 1:.\;]en -fifth anniversary of the

assassination" recollections of

Dallas inclucled fH"?'ar 1Y every facet ox recollection

posedble" Te],evised recoll,ection appeared t,o be more t,he

norm than ion~ [Link] on a wide range of .forms~

While early recollections gave blow-by-blow accounts of

what had happened in Dallas 39 p later years produced a

number of special programs that specifically addressed the

a'<;;3E!.,ae.e. t nat ion Each anniversary of the

 284

assassination received greater and more varied media

attention than the ones preceding it 4'.

By the twenty-fifth anniversary, televised

recollection of the assassination was so pervasive that it

not only generated special documentaries but also pervaded

existing programs. Regular news was filled with small

commemorative segments, from a ten-minute segment called

"JFK Remembered," on Philadelphia's [Link].9.!:;.....N.'e<.<,./.§.. to a

special +. .
hour-long edition of ABC's N.:lBh.t.. :i,..ml., to an eight-

part series about the assassination which was broadcast on

the GJ:\.$. J;:.Y.~.!1.J.n.g . . .N.~.<"/.§. '."'. News-organizations produced their

own institutionally-grounded retrospectives, ranging from

one-hour recaps-

to long six and one-half hour reconstructions of events

43 Tabloid television recounted the assassination on

programs by Oprah Winfrey, Mort Downey, Jack Anderson and

Geraldo Rivera 44

Philadelphia's even bore their own

assassination-related segments The reconstructed

versions o£ events which media retrospectives offered

encouraged one reporter to somewhat caustically mention

that "if you don't come to Dealey Plaza this year, the

assaSSination is very much as it was 25 years ago: reality

framed by a television set" ••. The freedom with which the

aSsaSSination story was rendered entertainment suggested

 285

effective was the story as folklore. More important,

efforts underscored the centrality of television in

documenting the lore of journalistic memories.

The ultimate difference between most historians and

assassination bu££s~ on one hand, and many journalists, on

the other, was what the lore of professional memories

rested upon presence. In the final reading .~ the

authority of retelling came down to the ability of

retellers to establish the fact of "actually (having been)

present to .i:""7.

Assassination buff David Lifton said that after

purchasing a negative of a photograph taken on the grassy

knoll, "watching the images come up to full contraat~ I

felt I was joining the ranks of the eyewitnesses - a year

and a half after the event" 4B Journalist Meg Greenfield

phrased it more bluntly in an article entitled "The Kiss

and Tell Memoirs," ~}here she posed the [Link] dilemma:

If the author stood somewhat outside the event,

has he let us take this fact into account - or
done so himself? Is there evidence that (as a
historian) he has made some effort to fill in
fairly those parts of the story he knew he had
missed? Or has he taken advantage of the
ingenuousness of a public that can hardly be
expected to realize that he speaks with
different degrees of authority on different
subjects - a public that is already inclined to
invest any insider with broad oracular powers on
the vaguely understood ground that he was there?
...+<;;~
 286

comments like these suggested that much of the authority

for retelling the assassination was found in the presence

of retellers at the events of Kennedy's death. It thus

became an unvoiced goal among retellers to lend a sense o£

their o.m presence to the story.

The systematic attempts to construct presence where

there was none, and to imply presence through

authoritative retellings, ultimately put journalists at an

advantage over other groups of speakers. Novelist Don

Delillo noted that "when experience is powerless? all

things (however constructed they may be) are the same" '~"'.

The fact that many journalists had been present when other

professional speakers had not- as well as the fact that

journalists had systematic means by which to invoke and

perpetuate a sense of that presence- served them well,

making them well-equipped to engender the kind of

ensuring their words would be heard and

remembered.

This is not to say that journalists simply created

their role in the story because of their access to

technological and institutional support. Their

professional memories, narratives, particular mode of

storytelling and technologies they used were all

predicated on presence. Unlike many historians or

aSsassination buffs, certain journalists involved in

 287

retelling the assassination story had been present at some

of its events. When they were not, their technologies and

narrative strategies allowed them to construct their tales

a8 if they were. These foundations of journalistic

authority not only encouraged presence but were predicated

upon it. The record by which journalists constructed their

tales of the assassination was thereby devoted to

constructing a sense o£ proximity to the events o£

Kennedy's deat.h.

To a large extent p this was made possible by

television. Television allowed journalists to reference

their presence as if it were a given in the assassination

story. Journalists' professional memories and their

implication of presence at Kennedy's death were solidified

by television technology. Mere attentiveness to the role

of television developed into an extensive self-referential

discourse, by which reporters, particularly television

journalists, sought to document extended aspects of the

role the medium played.

The fact that journalists' recollections of their

COverage began to be amassed into their o'VJn record

immediately after the assassination encouraged reporters

to generate extended self-referential accounts of

assassination stories that recounted the events o£

Kennedy's death. Television journalists "'Jere deemed

 288

particularly active players in punctuating the

-assassination record .. Inscribing their punctuations in

memory over the years was reinforced by the appraisals

lent television over the two and a half decades that

followed Kennedy's death. As the status of television - as

a legitimate medium for telling nelt-JS grev.J p so did

journal istic appraisals of television's role in covering

Kennedy's death.

It was therefore no surprise that by 1988,

recollections of Kennedy ...Jere intimately linked with the

media, in general p and with television, in particular. To

an extent this was built into circumstanceI' for,. as one

writer commented, "Kennedy INas. cut o££ at the promiseI' not

after the performance, and so it was left to television

and his widow to frame the man as legend" But in

addition to circumstance, the II anniversary spate of books

and TV specials" ~.o;;':=:,. in one nellJsmagazine's words, produced

much information that was media-linked. As

magazine maintained, television helped create a flashbulb

memory,. the indelible freeze-framing of the event at its

most trivial incidental detail:

The Kennedy in that freeze-frame is the Kennedy

of Camelot, not the man who miscarried the Bay
of Pigs invasion or shared a Vegas playgirl with
a Mafia don; it is as if the shadows had been
washed 8,"ay by the flashbulbs or the tears "'",:
 289

The role of television in in9 jOllrnalist8~

Id in narratives across media. A special

commemorative editiofl o£ Morn prc)c 1 a i. med

that the assassination made television into "irreversibly

the most, import"ant. fflJ;?dlum £CJ~r [Link]'": The deatJ) of

our first television President markerl the beginning of the

age of t,elevision as the dominant, [Link] in our lives" [',,;L,

Ne'0}spaper recountings of the assassination in 1988

[Link] television~s triumph, under head.1 i nes 1 i l{e "TV

Retells the Story of Slaying," ··CBS Replays November 22,"

"JFK and a Tribute t.o TV" or "TV: The Ghost of a Presidemt.

Past,'· e.~!!.';; [Link] one such art.,iels:

Television has marked the 25th anniversary of

the assassination of President Kennedy in a
wave of programming that is as much a reminder
of how large a role television pI in
rEmo"[Link] the tragedy and it,s aftE~rmath as i't is
a retelling of the event 3~.

EVAn on8 historian n his account of the assaesinat_ion

\,.;'1 t,h an introduc:tory remi..~rk about [Link], whIch

und(~rscored t,he m(2d i um" 53 c,~entr'~11 i ty and [Link] in

usting the assassination

TeleviE.;ion l)rO'U9 ht [Link] and it.s

aftermat.h vividly into the national
In their finest hours, the
electron_ic news medj,a the events
unfolding in Dallas and Washington and
[Link] them instantaneously to the American
people. Far more ieally and realistically
than the printed page, the video screen depicted
[Link] of the mo:::~.t~ un Ie scenes in recent
 290

Efforts like these finalized the stage by which JFK, his

administration, [Link] and television became

inextricably linked. At heart of these 1 inJ{s were

journalists, who lent the story its narrative form.

Thus persistent emphasis on television technology as

the medium [Link] most effectively memorialized Kennedy

enhanced the position of journalists, and particularly

television journalists, as competitive articulators o£ the

assassination's memory. Television technology perpetuated

the presence o£ journalists within the assassination

story. The positioning of journalists, initially squeezed

in with other groups working out their own memories, was

further enhanced by easily-accessed stages where they

performed their versions of Kennedy's death. A~S one

reporter observed in 1988, ··the amount of coverage (given

the assassination story) suggests how strongly television

executives believe the event still grips the American

population" ~?!;a

What all of this suggests is that as the

assassination narrative was splashed across time and

space, negotiation for the position of its authorized

Spokesperson worked to the advantage of journalists - from

the perspective of narrative standards F prOfessional

standards;, organizational priorities and institutionally-

bound discourse. Journalists' practices and values worked

 291

their favor, helping to establish, authenticate and

to
perpetuate them as rightful retellers of the assassination

story.

All of the above-mentioned circumstances the

background of documentary failure, contest over the place

of authorized spokespersons £or the assassination story,

viability of television technology- helped journalists

credential themselves as authorized spokespeople of the

story. It is interesting that this took place despite the

fact that they had often not covered the story when i t

happened. Yet the fact of associating themselves with the

assassination story became a professional goal in itself,

encouraging them to create and perpetuat.e new and

different ways of connecting themselves with the events in

Dallas.

Yet what has happened since? Journalists have not

left their negotiations for the position of authorized

Spokespeople to external developments. Instead,

journalists have over time adopted four main roles in

their attempt.s to narratively situate themselves as

retell ers of Kennedy's death. Each role links journalists

ongoing discourse about journalistic practice,

prOfessionalism and the legitimation of television news,

in that it highlights a different dimension of
 292

i our'!').:'?!} i C,J,t. ic eyev;i tnessing f' re~presc~ntat"ion !

invest,iqation .and int ion s11 to

journalist::.;;," ional codes of behavior.

Through journalistg have t::'.i t-uat.e.d

them~,e.l ves within the assassination story in each of these

roles!, as eyewitnesses, nODrE'S'0Tltst i ves!' invest.i..getoX'.s;,

find i Each implicates slightly differE~nt

foundations by which jOllrnalists claim to be Jegiti.'mate

of the assassination story. The fact that roles

have often been invoked in concert with others underscores

Lhe complexity of the rhetoric by which journalists have

aLLempLed La legiLimaLe Lhemselves.

THE ,TOURN ALIST

PLACE. of sit,u8_ting oneself' wi'thin Lhe

89',sassinat lon is as an eyewitness. While an earlier

the eyeVJit..nes.s:';~ roll,? in n;;~'1rrat,[Link]

by .journalists at the time of KennedyP s death,

journalists have also used it across time and space to

cI,~edent~ial themselves within the story. Journalists use

their eyewitness status to events to generate personalized

Darret i ve!;:'. by they est,ablish

or authorizc:d t the [Link]

Being an eyewitness carries with i t the authority

of baving [Link] posi t i, on became

 293

important in light of increasingly prevalent debates about

conspiracy in the Kennedy assassination.

Reporters like Hugh Sidey or Tom Wicker recoll~cted

Dallas through their experiences as eyewitnesses. Sidey

recalled that

perhaps we knew when the first sound reached the

press bus behind President Kennedy's limousine.
A distant crack, another. A pause, and another
crack. Something was dangerously off-key 5~

Wicker recounted how he was

sitting on the press bus, I think the second

press bus, with a local reporter from Texas. He
observed this, people running and so forth, and
he dashed up the front of the bus and then came
back to me and said, 'something's happened. The
President's car just sped away, they just gunned
away' e:..:,<:,.

There were eyewitnesses to Ost;Jald' s shooting, as when uNBC

News Correspondent Tom Pettit, at the scene, exclaimed in

disbelief , He's been shot' II Eyewitness tales were

frequently embedded [Link] thin journalistic recollections o£

the assassination. While at times they referenced problems

of eyewitnessing, they nonetheless invoked it as a common

journalistic practice.

The eyewitness role was generally invoked from Dallas

but it was also applied to journalists' presence in

Washington .' where they a\rJai ted arrival of the plane

Carrying Kennedy's body. NBC correspondent Nancy Dickerson

recalled that
 294

we were on the air, talking~ and Air Force One

arrived and I saw them. They were all confused
as far as I was concerned. They weren't doing it
the right way. Instead of opening the front door
of Air Force One, they were opening the back
door. And they had a hydraulic lift there, and
of course they were taking the body out the back
door in a casket SQ.

Eyewitnessing was recounted not only in direct conjunction

with the events of the assassination. NBC Nel,.Js

Correspondent Sander Vanocur recalled standing outside of

the west wing of the White House when he saw Kennedy's

rocking chair being brought out and LBJ's mounted saddle

brought in. "Power changes very quickly and very brutally

in \vashington," said Vanocur. 111'11 never forget the

exchange of those two pieces of furniture within a 20

minute period"

By situating themselves as eyewitnesses, journalists

have authenticated themselves for having been in the §.~l!1§.

~J. ~§:. and §.~.~.g...,.. ".....p'..+'. §!.~.§:. as the events o£ the assassination

weekend. The same time and place that characterizes these

personalized narratives took journalists £roTft Dallas to

WaShington, where [Link] assassination culminated in

Kennedy's funeral. Being an eyewitness has ensured the

access o£ journalists with stories that bear space-time

qualities equivalent to those of the assassination itsel£~

InVoking the role o£ eyewitness, journalist.s have

legitimated themselves through an authority derived from

.~;'••.."... "'"
.•.

E£"
 295

been in the same time and same place as the events

of Kennedy's death.

A second way of credentialling

oneself is through the role of representative. Journalists

have generated authority for their tales by assuming the

role o£ representative a Such a role is predicated upon

pro:fessional affiliation, with journalists positioned as

representative players in the assassination story through

their professional affiliation as reporters. The role of

representative is invoked when eyewitnessing 'V,las not

possible and reporters did not work on the assassination

story in either its Dallas or Washington frames. One NBC

retrospective used John Chancellor~s experiences during

the assassination weekend as a focal point for its footage

of events in Dallas:

I was NBC's correspondent in Berlin then.

Kennedy had been there a few months before his
death, and he was idolized by Berliners ... The
people there were devastated by (Kennedy's)
death. In West Berlin, you would get in a taxi,
give your destination p and the driver would say
~America~? 1£ you said yes, the meter would be
turned off and you rode free 6 4 .

The fact that Chancellor's experiences as a correspondent

in Berlin bore little relevance to the events of the

aSsassination \4eekend t,\~as not visibly problematized.

Instead, his professional standing at the time of [Link]

 296

assassination credentialled him to speak about Dallas.

Even i£ his personal memories o£ the events in Dallas

tendered from the less-than-vantage perspect_i ve or

Berlin, NBC incorporated it because i t authorized him as

a representative spokesperson £or the assassination

weekend.

The role o£ representative is thus authorized by the

£act that narrators were reporters at the time o£ the

assassination. Pro£essional standing is invoked to justi£y

the £act that seemingly "unconnected ll

reporters could

nontheless authoritatively interpret events o£ the

assassination weekend. As one reporter said, "When the

shots were £ired, I was working for b!f~ as a reporter in

the education department" "'''. ~Jhile she then £le .. to spend

the day with Rose Kennedy in Hyannis Port, other reporters

were never even assigned to the story. Journalist Chuck

Stone, £eatured on Philadelphia's late evening news,

"recalled being a Washington newsman covering Kennedy"

The news-item showed a £ramed photograph o£ Kennedy at one

Or his news conferences, presumably authenticated by

Stone's presence, although that was not made clear. Peter

Jennings introduced an item on the assassination as "a

reporter .. ho covered this region in the mid-60s"

Malcolm Pointdexter, in 1953 a reporter £or the

in a television interview
 297

"we sat there. We couldn't believe what had happened.

asked members of the police department, ~could it

here?" I. {.;1ti~. None of these reporters was situated

happen

anywhere near Dallas during the assassination; nor were

they in any way connected with the story elsewhere. Yet

the fact that they had been reporters at the time of the

assassination thrust them into a position years later of

authoritatively retelling its story. Using their words to

index the assassination rein£orces journalists' ability to

act as authorized spokespersons.

Journalists were thus credential led as

representatives for having been in the !"aJ!l~._ ..!,.ime but. a

differe_nt .._~£.~ as the events in Dallas. The relevance of

professional affiliation at the time of the assassination

implicitly supports the emerging status of journalists as

the story"s authorized retellers. The fact that

journalists did ~ot work on the assassination story is

obscured by the frequency with which news organizations

have used tales of the representative to authorize

assassination recollections. These tales e><pand the

foundation by which journalists legitimately provided an

authorized version of events. Not only do they perpetuate

associations with the assassination story that bear little

connection to the part journalists originally played in

ita coverage, but they equallize the access of reporters
 298

whose stories displayed de£inite spatial disjunctions £rom

the events in Dallas.

a third role assumed by journalists

in their narratives is that o£ investigator. The role o£

investigator allowed journalists to invoke authority

through their activities as investigative reporters, a

recollection supported by increasingly prevalent discourse

about conspiracy in Kennedyls death~ In particular, the

[Link] role of assassination bu££s in the years

following the assassination gave tales of the investigator

momentum and increased credence. As one reporter said,

"the story ",oul d die dot-ln £or a while and then crop up

again~ Something was always coming IIp"" &9.

Situating reporters as investigators wae implicit in

journalistic coverage o£ the assassination £rom its

inception. I t t,.]as implied in the way that journalists

crowded Dallas police headquarters the night o£ the

assassination, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kennedy's

accused killer, Lee Harvey Oswald. One speci£ic dialogue

Was widely recounted across the media:

Reporter: Did you kill the President?

Oswald: No. I have not been charged with that,

in £act nobody has said that to me yet. The
£irst thing I heard about it was when the
newspaper reporters in the hall asked me that
question.
 299

Reporter: You have been charged.

Oso;.'Jsld: Sir?

Reporter: You have been charged 70.

Later, Oswald was reported to have said that ··the first

thing I heard about it was when the newspaper reporters in

the hall asked me that question·· The role of

journalists as investigators was thereby foregrounded

almost from the first days of the assassination story.

Tales of the investigator are couched in the fact

that Kennedy's death incomplete story" One

reporter remarked that Uhaving covered the story as a

working journalist on the scene, I cannot accept as proven

facts the incoherent conglomeration of circumstantial

evidence against (Oswald)·' 73. The assassination story was

full of '"loose strands, improbable cOincidences, puzzling

gaps" 74, which made deciphering difficult. Attempts to

resolve the story's unknowns have thus given journalists

tasks through which to authenticate their professional

identities? recasting them as tales o£ investigation.

Dan Rather referred on-air to the years he spent

investigating the story·"". N.~.'!.... yq".t... .IJIIl~."'. edi tor Harrison

Salisbury maintained that journalists at the T.i..IIl.~. ".

continued to actively investigate the assassination story
"to the limits of the correspondents' ability"

Ultimately, boasted SalisburYF "there was [Link]

 300

likelihood" that other evidence would materially change

fundamentals which in it,s

the

ini Ual reporting. Jack Anderson hosted his own special on

the assassination that credential led him as a npulitzer

Prize winning journalist-· and [Link] led his "twenty year

investigation of the crime of the century" 77 \>}al ter

Cronkite summed up a special edi tion of [Link],'l, by saying

that its investigation had "explained many but not all of

the questions about twhe assassination'" 7_. Tales of the

investigator thereby re£erence career trajectories by

which reporters have conducted independent investigations

into various unsettled aspects of Kennedy's assassination.

Implici t in these discussions are references to practices

of exploration, discovery and scrutiny_ Journalists are

portrayed as having made "exhaustive" and "painstaking"

efforts at unravelling the assassination story 79.

This has applied to news organizations too.

magazine was hailed by K"''!1.<;;.\~~.'''K in 1955 for having led the

call for a ne\\J investigation while a myriad of

newspapers

§Jp~.~. - "'ere heralded for having supported the call .n.

Difficulties in playing the investigator role were widely

discussed , as when columnist Nora Ephron commented in the

mid-seventies that "only a handful of reporters (are)

Wor-king the assassination ,storyll:

 301

This is a story [Link] begs for hundreds of

investigators, subpoena power, f'orensics
g:canls of' immunity: i t l s also a story
that requires. slogging through twen'ty-seven
volumes of' the Warren Commission Report and
dozens of books on the assassination~~~The whole
thing is a mess ~~

But the plethora of unr'avelled [Link] unresolved threads

about the assassination have made it an attractive task

for many journaliBts~

Situating themselves as investigators have thus given

journalists authority for having returned to the place of

the assassination to conduct their investigations. It is

not coincidental that they do so many years after the

event.s in Dallas. These tales of but

have created a way £or journalists who

did not take an active part in covering the assa •• ination

weekend to authoritatively retell aspects of the

assassination 8tory~ They legitimate journalists who

associate the:rnsel ves with the assassination story by

reopening its record years af"ter the event,s in Dallas.

Journalistic access to the asaassination#s retelling is

thereby ensured despite the temporal disjunction which

these .tories embody.

THE ~.:g:Jl,lRN!l. h .I.:::;.If\?~

T,LMEtPIJ:l':E=g!:'NIJ'hll.G!;.. Journal ists also situate them",el ves

wi [Link] the assassination story as interpreters. The role

of interpreter focuses attention on the i. n [Link] i ve

 302

activities of journalists in conjunction with the events

of Dallas. Borrowing from the experiences of eyewitnesses,

representatives and investigators in making interpretive

claims about the assassination~ the role of interpreter

implies that it was unneccessary to have been in either

the same place or time as the events in Dallas in order to

make authoritative claims about the assassination story.

Certain journalists fulfilled the function of

i n t~erpreters p despite the fact that they also acted as

eyewi [Link], representatives or investigators in their

narratives .. Charles Roberts' book on eyewitnessing, £or

example, claimed to ""examine coolly and critically some o£

the odd theories and rumours that have burgeoned ... looking

at the whole record'" .3. In a semi-philosophical moment,

Tom Wicker commented that the assassination was "as if our

country had been struck dO~.-Jn!,11 dealing a IIterrible bIoI,<) to

one" s sense of' the possible" F.:\~~ a Walter Cronl{i te contended

years later that the assassination had dealt a "serious

blow to our national psyche" 85* Hugh Sidey maintained

that "we t-Jere never the same!, nor \~Jas the I;Jorld"

Situating the journalist in the role of interpreter

'Nas indicated in the days immediately following the

assassination~ Wrote reporter Marya Mannes of the press

corps:

for £our interminable days!, I listened to the

familiar voices of~ .. so many who never failed us
 303

or history during their great.est_ posEdble

ordeal. Shaken as they visibly were, infinitely
weary as they became, they maintained calm and
reason and insight throughout the marathon of
madness and mourning 9 7 .

But the references which have evolved over time and space

in conjunction with journalists' interpretative role have

blurred both the temporal and physical distance from which

they can be expected to reliably pronounce judgment on the

events of Kennedy's death~

This means that a number of reporters have assumed

the interpretive role without any visible linkage to other

roles. In such a case, situating them,gel ves as

[Link] not only allows journalists to generate

authority for events from distant positions, such as that

of New York anchorpersons or nev·}s-edi tors, but it

legitimates persons who have little association with the

assassination at the time. ABC's Forrest Sawyer conducted

a one-hour retrospective of the assassination on

yet did not explicate how he was associated

",ith the event!", in Dallas. Other than mentioning that "for

those of us who are old enough, this has been a day of

remembering, recalling [Link] glamour of the Kennedy

presidency and how it. felt then" Sawyer made no

attempt to credential h i.e. interpretation of the

assassination story. Similarly, writer Lawrence Wright

 304

concluded his book on the sixties, which dealt in part

with Kennedy's assassination, with the observation that

it began as an essay for IS'."'-"''''...... tl9nth..+Y about

growing up in Dallas in the years preceding the
assassination of President Kennedy. I did not
intend to make myself a character so much as a
guiding sensibility to the thoughts and passions
of the moment~ (a's

In both cases, the most obvious connection to the

assassination story was a contemporary pro£essional

affiliation with journalism.

The role of interpreter is thus legitimated through

contemporary professional ties to journalism: Whereas the

role or representative is authenticated by a journalist's

pro£essional association at the time or the assassination,

the role of interpreter is credential led by his or her

proressional association at the [Link] of the

assassination's recollecting a The shi£t in recognizable

boundaries is significant,. for i t has helped to render

retellers of the assassination with no obvious link to the

[Link] int.o [Link] spokespersons £or the events in

Dallas.

Journalists thereby situate themselves as

interpreters despite the fact that many journalists acting

as [Link] told their tales £rom a [Link].f.t.§L_. ~.nd ....". P . t~. S.~.

Dallas story. Invoking the role o£

interpreter has allowed journalists to become

authoritative spokespeople despite - or, perhaps,. because

 305

of - the spatial and temporal disjunctions which their

tales embodied~ In one assassination bu££~s view, this has

generated a breed of journalists years [Link] the

assassination who have no first-hand knowledge of

making them better able to approach the story without bias

90 Spatial and temporal distance has thus legitimated the

ability of journalists to act as authoritative

interpreters of the assassination story, likening their

role as spokespeople to that of historians. Like other

role.s by "'hich journalists have credential led their

recollections of the assassination, situating themselves

as interpreters constitutes a way for journalists to

associate themselves with the assassination story without

having had any prior pro£essional connection with itg

The four roles through ",hich journalists have

narratively positioned themselves vis a vis the

assassination have thus created a range of situations by

they can rhetorically legitimate themselves as

spokespersons o£ the assassination storY8 Access to the

assassination story, as offered by these roles, has

expanded the £oundations by I/Jhich reporters can

legitimately claim to be its spokespersons~

l\ccess is ensured through a span o£ time-space

disjunctions: The role of eyelr1i tness legitimates

journalists £or having been in the same place and same

 305

time as the events in Dallas; the role of representative

authorizes them to speak about the time period of the

assassination but from places ather than Dallas; the role

o£ investigator allows them to perpetuate stories that

were generated from the same place but from a different

time period; and finally the role of interpreter makes it

possible for journalists to recollect the assassination

despite the fact that they had been in neither the same

place nor time period as the Dallas events. Each role

allows journalists to legitimate themselves as

spokespeople for the assassination story not through the

role they originally played in covering the assassination

but through a wide range of activities that took place in

times and places beyond it. The wider range o£ activities

their tales reference aptly suits journalistic codes o£

pro£esE:;,ional behavior .. In all of these ways, journalists

have used the expanded access these roles gave them to

turn stories of the assassination into stories about

themselves. They have effectively used the assassination

of Kennedy as a stage through ttJhich to exercise [Link] own

legitimation, both collective and individual.

:1. "[Link]: Behind Moves to Reopen the JFK Case,. II

TL,_;L,B_'CY_!? __?".!1SL~L9X1<:1B-"'P9:r:t ( 5 12/7 5),

P • 31.
" I.Q.J.<:I... p. 31 •
.::;~ IIRichard Rovere" "Introduction, II in Edward . 1.
. Epstein.f
Inq.l,!.'C!?_t. (New York: Viking Press., 1955), p. viii.
 307

"' Calvin Trillin, "The Buffs," Tt.§.... .N.§.~!. . . .Yg.:r:.t.§.:r:. (6/10/67),

p. 43.
~ David Welsh and William Turner, "In the Shadow of
Dallas," R."'. Ill.P."'.:r:J:.-,,,,. (1/25/69), p. 62.
e. II A Decade or Unans\r·Jered QuestionS!" It R..§"m,p.. 9 . ~..t. .g... (December
1973), p. 43.
7 Welsh and Turner, 1969 .
• Trillin, 1967, p. 45.
'" IpJ9., p. 65.
;I.e:) lOA Decade o£ Unansl,<}ered Questions, 1973, pa 43. II

:L:1. Frank Donner, "Conspiracies Unlimited," T..h. ~. . . .N_~. t.. ~. 9..D.

(12/22/79), p. 660.
Th.§... I:r::,!:t:Jl.. j1P.9!,l.t,.:tt.§JI", ",,,,,,,,,,.,t"CitJO n ( Ne"J
< '" Ch a r· I e s Rob e rtB'..
York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1967), p. 57 .
• 3 Trillin, 1967, p. 43. This in itself lent another
intriguing dimension to the authority of journalists in
retelling the assassination story. They built up the
record against which other groups of public speakers built
their own authority.
;1.":1- Mark Lane, S.". . .G. ~. t..:~t~.§P. ~...§._.....P. .~. §.~_~.D.J;. (New York: Holt,
Rinehart and Winston, 1968), p. 11 .
• B Quoted in Trillin. 1967, p. 41.
H' David S. Lifton. !:l§.",t..J:;y.;,q",,,.S'.,,,. (New York: Carroll and
Graf Publishers, 1980).
'7 Lane, 1968, p. x.
1. (col .I.p. ~tg. l' p ~ x.
:1. ';';' .J.J?.:t9.
xi. J' p ~
om,,, I!?.~..9., p. 144 .
r..;:~:t P'. ~. 9.
.~.. ;> p. 253-4.
"""' Hugh Sidey, "History on His Shoulder," IAIl!"'. (11/8/82),
p. 26.
""0 Theodore ~}hite, "Camelot, Sad Camelot" (Excerpt from .:l:n.
~"~:r::c::t.9JHA§t.9D':.JLP",:r::§911,,,:L,a.9Y"'l1t":r::'ie) HIl!'ie. (7 1 3 1 78), P .
47.
,~<,. Nancy Dickerson, !:l.'ie.t!IH.. . .WJ. j::J:LJg}1.n..f ..,... Ji"'.nn'ie.9.y., Thomas F.
Horton [Link], Inc. (1983). This was somewhat dampened
when it was revealed that Kennedy had secretly taped his
conversations with politicians and diplomats [See "In
Camelot. They Taped Alot," N",~'§'~",,,,.!5. (2/15/82) J.
,."., Arthur M. Schlesinger. Jr., ,a... [Link]!,l.§.§11.9 . . P",.z§. (Boston:
Houghton Mi£flin Company, 1965); Theodore C. Sorensen,
K§n.n.",.9.y. (New York: Harper and Rov', 1965) .
•• In the summer of 1965, this included Sorensen's book in
b.9..9J5. and Schlesinger's in ~..i,. ;f.~.•
""7 Mary McGrory, "And Did You Once See Kennedy Plain?"
A"",.:r:.tc::. a . (9/18/65), p. 279.
;:E:C~ "Historians Lastr in the Mists of Camelot," k.9.§.......Ang_§:..+. §:.§.
IAIl!.§s. <10/21/88), sec i, p. 1-
;::~.~:) One critic of Schlesinger was Meg Greenfield r tiThe Kiss
and Tell Memoirs," Tt",R§P.9rt",x. (11/30/67).
 308

:,,:0 Michael Kurtz,. Ih. §:." ....G..:r.A.!.!l~. . . .9.f._....tb,,~ ...._.g.':?}J.t.y. !:.Y._ (Knoxv iII e :
University of Tennesee Press~ 1983),. p. vi.
""·~.Jhite, "Camelot, Sad Camelot," 1978, p. 46.
<",. Edward J. Epstein, !'\§.:t""§"'.D ...F§"t ... §nsl ..FAsct;LgD. (Ne" York:
Vintage Books, 1975). Said Epstein: "Far from being a
detailed and objective chronicle of the assassination, it
"as a mythopoeic melodrama organized around the theme pf
struggle for power" (p. 124).
;0'." "Peephole Journalism," Gglll,.mgn",§.§.J.. (9/3/65), p. 613.
34 Meg Greenfield, 1967, p. 15.
3a Dan DeLillo, "American Blood: A Journey Through the
Labyrinth of Dallas and JFK," Rg!.J.Jn9 ..0tgn.!'C <12/8/83). p.
27.
31.'0:>' Jack Valenti l' "Anniversary of an Assassination:
Memories of a Last l'-1otorcadel" 1L9_§.._".A.D:.g.~._J.,..~§ __.T..4:.W§'.§?.
II

(11/23/86), sec. v. p. 1.
;37 "Remembering JFK,.·· [Link] ....!1g.?;.D..AJtg~.y.~.~. __~. l}!.§T._~~.9.~_., ABC News
(11/22/83) •
"'" lEJ{.;.i\.T;i,Jll,§.Rglll,"'ITlJ::!§:.::e:,g, SussY;.i nd Company (11/21/88).
~. Examples here include a 1964 United Artists documentary
called F9,llE.P§y§.J.T' ... N9Y"'.~1.J:>",X, David I,"olper for United
Art~ist.s (1964) and KTRK -TV'.s K§,!_!!:.Q.~.g_y...;._.__ g!}"~ . _'y.§.~.;:_ ..b.?.:t_~.~.}'
KTRK-TV, Houston, Texas (1964).
'H:> Examples included I<.§nn",slY§.P<?n~.L.G:.::.y., Philip S. Hobel
and Douglas Leiterman, £or Document Associates Inc~
(1978); !3.."'~".9..",ith19hT'.F,.J{§nn§<:l. Y., Drew Associates, in
association with Golden tAJest Television (1983); A,~_§l_~. .t,£_~.
R§'..Ill§lll,l:>.§x"'--.19h.n.. .f.... K.§n,,§.sly, Thomas F. Horton Associates .•
Inc. (1983).
4. Jefferson Morley, "Camelot and Dallas: The Entangling
Kennedy Myths," Ih"'....N.§t!9.T! <12/2/88), p. 649.
4·'~, "Kennedy Remembered," i\g.:t,,i...9.J:1 .... N."'.~~.§ (Channel Six Late
Night. News, Philadelphia (11/22/88); "25th Anniversary of
JFK's Assassination," N.:i,ght),J.D.§., ABC Ne\4s (11/22/88);
"Assassination: Twenty-£ive Years Later,lI gJ~,§.,,_. .gY_§.n,t}!:.g.
~.§',~.o?~2 .... eight-part series produced by eBC News Divie,ion
(11/14/88-11/23/88).
'+:;' These include [Link]{.:.....Ih.<e.t ....P."Y....!n... N9Y§.Ill.!?§:.::., NBC Ne'H',",
(11/22/88); Ih."..... W.§'§.l<.\<l." ..k9§t.][Link].E..J{"nne:slY, three-tape
series by NBC News (March 1989); f9.11"".. P"y§tT' .. N9.Y."llli:!§E,
CBS Ne"s (11/17/88); ;!FJ{A§§.§§§Jn§t;iqn:i\§ItJI§PP§n§g,
NBC News (11/22/88' •
..:~ -'-I. J a c J.<,: And er son, ~~.D. 9 ... "~.~..~.g. ~. :r. ~.9. . _.,J...f..K.3:..."..A. ~. §.;::..i,.~.9:.D...._,.~.~ pg.§.~.? Saba n
Productions (11/2/88); Geraldo Rivera, On Trial: Lee
H:?X'y. ~.y,,_ . . Q:?_~.~.! . 9 ..~ Lon don {iJeek end Tel ev i s i 0 ~-- -'"£';-~''' --T'~'i"b'~';:;~'
Entertainment Company (11/22/88-11/23/88).
4 5 One predictable outcome was a segment on the ties
between John Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe, featured an
I;:l)t",:.::t".;i,l)r~"'l)t. ...T9..11.:.l.9.h.:t:;" the night of his assassination.
 309

twenty-:fi ve years later (1I~~here ~.lere You ~I}hen JFK t~,las

ShoU" g"t~:i::'J,,,i"11I§"t1'9rl~gr!t. (11/22/88).
/-1.("" Judd Rose p "25th Anniversary of' JFK'.s Assassinat~ion.p"
Niahtline. ABC News (11/22/88).
~;.;;~.p :·E~'T·i 11 inghast, Th§.?PC'gj,.9'd.§.P!'!§t. (Reading, Mass:
Addison Wesley, 1972), p. 171.
4$ Lj.£ton~ 1980, p. 9.
49 Meg Greenfield, '"The Kiss and Tell Memoirs," 1he
Rep9:i::'t~:i::' (11/30/67), p. 17.
;;·0· Don Delillo, "American Blood," 1983, p. 28.
mo William E. Leuchtenburg, "John F. Kennedy, Twenty Years
Later," {:\l1I.§:rj,.g!,!J:1JIC':i::'Jt§g§.l'!§g§.~~J:1§ (December 1983), p. 58.
"'~, "Did the ~lob Kill JFK," ::U.l1IC'. (11/28/88), p. 42.
"" Peter Goldman, "Kennedy Remembered," 1983, p. 62.
"". Jeff Greenfield, "Remembering JFK," G99c!.1'l<n:.I1j,..ng ...
i.\l1I§:rJ.g!,!. ABC News (11/22/83).
""" "TV Retells the Story of Slaying," !'!C'.,!:,......Y9:r.k.....I.!.11I.."'-§.
(11/23/88), p . .'18; "CBS Replays November 22," !'!,,!\~ ..Y.9:i::'k
Ttl1l"!.§ (11/17/88), p. B3; "JFK and a Tribut.e to TV,"
!}}§§h.!J:[Link].P9§t. (11/23/88), p . .'12; or "TV: The Ghost of a
President Past.... !}}§ll,.?t:r",,"!t}.9'd.:i::'I1!'!t (11/7/88), p • .'112.
"" "TV Retells the Story of Slaying," (11/23/88), p • .'116.
5 7 Kurtz, 1982 p p~ v~
~a ··TV Retells the Story of Slaying," (11/23/88), p~ A 16.
Hugh Sidey, IIA Shattering A:fternoon in Dallas,." I.!. ~. §..
~~.~'=-)
(11/28/8B)? p. 45~ Sidey's testimony underscored how many
journalists who promoted themselves as eyewitnesses were
in effect only ear-witnesses,. yet that status was not
readily admitted by many reporters.
(;i.e, Tom Wicker, quoted in If.l<;; ...l\....Itl1l"!.. .R,,!.~-"~P"!:r"!c!, Susskind
Company (11/21/88).
<" i?:r()§c![Link].§§tAI1£! <1 2 1 2 I 6 3 ), p. 46.
~'.~;~ Nancy Dic}~erson,. quot~ed in JF~: ..... .!L . . .T. ~ . ~.~ . . J~.~.~.§.!~. ~.~.~.§:.g..
fI

Susskind Company (11/21/88).

(,.,,, Sander Vanocur, quoted in If.K.:...... i.\ .. ..T.~.l1I.-''.....R~~.~.~!P.''!:r.~c!...
Susskind Company (11/21/88).
(,,<,. John Chancellor .. II1~W~"!k.W"!.l,,().§.L)·fK, MBC Mel,'s (March
1989).
""" Jane Howard, "Do You Remember the Day JFK Died?" "'.""tt"!§
!:!()11I~;r9,1:rn§:L (November 1983), p. 114.
(.(". Chuck [Link], quoted on ,.. g.:t;l..Ql} .... !'!."!I~§. (Channel Six Late-
Night News, Philadelphia, 11/22/88).
e."? Peter Jennings, "Changing South," {:\.i?G~N~.gh:tc.1}'.N"!.'!:'§
(11/22/88) •
<.<. Malcolm Pointdexter, KY\¥ ....gy."!"'..~..t.I1."!.§§;.N-",,!.§. (Channel 4
Late Night Mews, Philadelphia, 11/22/88).
<E." Hugh Aynesworth.. quoted in Nora Ephron.. "Twel. ve Years
on the Assassination Beat," J:::§q'd.~.:r.",. (February 1976), p.
59 •
.,," Quoted in [()'dLP§}'§;iI1.!'!.QY,,!.~l!?C'l;:. CBS Ne.,s (11/17/88).
 310

"7:1. W.?:r;::,:t;.t?~ .. _.,.G.9._~,~,.~. §.-?_..J.:,.9_!!........R.§:P'.9.;r..t. (Washington,. D .. C .. : Un! ted

states Government Printing Office. 1964), p. 201 .
.,"-, Ih""?),9tt9K~J1?l::"".",Jc:l.""I:!tK""I:!I:!""c:l.y, M.G. Hollo
Productions, with Fox/Lorber Associates, Inc. (1983) .
."" Leo Sauvage, "Oswald in Dallas: A Few Loose Ends," Ih.".
RepQr:t.,,;r: (1/2/64). p. 24.
"7". "JFK: The Death and the Doubts," ]II.",.",.",.~,,,,.,,,Is. (12/5J66), p.
26.
7'" Rather, E.Q.'-'.l:: . . P"'.Y"';L.I:!.....N9.'!.""!')P.""l::.• CBS Ne'",,,, (11/17/88).
7(,1;' Harrison Salisbury . . liThe Editor"s View in Nelt-J York,." in
Bradley Greenberg and EdyJin Parker, Ih."". . . .K."'I:!.D.".c:l.¥
A",.",_",.",,,,J.I1.,,,t!9!} "'.I:!.[Link]"".A!,)"'l'::i,g?!np,-,pIJ.[Link] (Palo Alto: Stanford
University Press, 1965), p. 44.
"77' Jack Anderson, ~JJ!9....I1'-'l':c:l."".l::""c:l.}E.K1..I'I!')""r:.~..c:. "!}. . . .l':."'P9.§."'., Saban
Productions (11/2/88).
·7" Walter Cronkite, "Who Shot President Kennedy?" ]119.'!".,
PBS (11/15/88).
7'", Albert H. Newman, Th..",.....I'I. "'. '!:."'. "'.§JJ:1.a.. t.J.c::>..I1 ......'?f. . . .;r..9h..n . . . f ....•.....K"'""."".<l¥
(New York: Clarkson N. Potter, Inc., 1970), p. ix.
eo "JFK: The Death and the Doubts," ]I1."",,,,.,,,.w,,,,,,,,1s (12/5/66). p.
25.
ii,l ,. [Link].c:l., p. 26 •
•• Ephron. 1976. p. 62.
8 3 Roberts,. 1967,. p. G.
a'<· Tom lVicker. quoted in ;[Link] . : ... A. ..I.:L!').""......R.""!')""!')P"'r:.""c:l... Susskind
Company (11/21/88).
'''5 Walter Cronkite, [Link] in "\'}hat JFK 11eant To Us ....
]11..",,,,.,,,\;',,,,,,,,.15 (Special 20th Anniversary Issue entitled "Kennedy
Remembered", 11/28/83), p. 66.
SG Hugh Sidey? .oA Shattering Afternoon in Dallas,,"
(11/28/88). p. 45.
SA? Marya Mannes.!' "The Long Vigil p II I.~_ ~_."):;~.§P_9.;::.t.§..~,, 29
(12/19/63), p. 15.
li:i{!,' Forrest Sawyer JJ' "25th Anniversary o£ Kenned y J'.9-
AE,sassination," ]II:[Link].:l.!l.""., ABC Ne'N'" (11/22/88).
<,'-;;,La'w'rence Wright,:I:!l. ....tb§'.N""wW9.l::Jcl. (New York: Vintage
Books, 1983), p. 309.
',••:. Michael Matza, "Five Still Probing [Link] JFK Killing,"
PhiJ",_cl_§'Jph.l...!ng'-'~T§,T (11/22/ .g 8), p. 8 E •
 311

PERPETUATING

ASSASSINATION TALES
 312

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE AUTHORITY OF THE INDIVIDUAL:

RECOLLECTING THROUGH CELEBRITY

To be talked about is to be part o£ a story, and

to be part o£ a story is to be at the mercy o£
storytellers - the media and their audience. The
£amous person is thus not so much a person as a
story about a person 1 .

Once journalists promoted themselves as an authorized

presence within the assassination story, they set about

locating ways o£ perpetuating their presence over space

and time. Journalists £it their assassination tales within

larger memory systems, retelling their tales according to

pre-determined patterns o£ collective memory. By linking

in with existent memory systems, they were better assured

o£ their tales' success£ul perpetuation.

In the pages that £ollow, I discuss the workings o£

one memory system by which the stature o£ individual

journalists was promoted above the stories they told

celebrity. How celebrity has helped journalists not only

perpetuate their presence in the assassination story but

gain independent leverage £rom it constitutes a basic

cornerstone o£ their authority as spokespeople. This has

had particular bearing on journalists' constitution as an

interpretive community, where the emphasis on the

individual was central.

 313

The £ollowing chapter has three parts: It addresses

general characteristics o£ journalistic celebrity.

particularly its function as a memory system; discusses

the Kennedy assassination as a ground £rom which

journalistic celebrity sprouted, with emphasis on speci£ic

cases o£ journalistic celebrity; and £inally explores how

the celebrity status of certain reporters has been

institutionally perpetuated.

De£ined as "persons well-known £or their well-

knownedness" 2, celebrity functions as a set of rules for

speakers and actors, giving them idealized notions about

how they should be or act. It re£lects "shi£ting

definitions of achievement in a social world" 3. Depending

in large part on the mass media, it has evolved into its

contemporary £orm through an interlinking o£ di££erent

kinds of mass-mediated texts 4 The media legitimate

celebrities through a network o£ institutional activities

that generate extensive public discourse about them.

Constructing and perpetuating celebrity is thus as much an

institutional concern as an individual onep with

institutional practices necessary to generate and maintain

individual cases o£ celebrity.

Such is the case with journalistic retellings o£ the

assassination. While journalists have systematically

 314

promoted themselves as retellers within their

assassination tales, in certain cases their status as

storytellers has effectively elevated their importance

above that of the tales they told. Celebrity has both

helped them strategically interpret the significance of

their coverage as well as highlight the presence of

certain figures within their narratives. It has thus

promoted the actions of certain journalists as a frame of

reference for journalistic behavior in contexts stretching

beyond assassination retellings.

From a theoretical standpoint, the ability to

highlight individual personalities within and

independent from assassination tales underscores an

important dimension of assassination retellings the

significance of the individual. Journalists' ability to

constitute themselves as an independent interpretive

community through their assassination retellings has

depended on the role played by individuals in delineating

boundaries o£ cOTflmuni ty and authority. The featured

presence of the individual reporter within assassination

narratives has thus keyed members of the community into

boundary changes within the profession.

Tales of celebrity were initially formed via

references to larger discourses about technology and

professionalism. The then-emerging state of television

 315

news reinforced the fact that television had begun to

develop its own form of journalistic storytelling, which

wove the celebrity of reporters directly into TV news

presentation Celebrity status was furthered by

television's visual, dramatic and personalized dimensions,

which generated an authority characterized by style,

personality or flair The authority with which

television would eventually come to promote the on-site

recognition of journalists establishing forums, like

televised interviews, that associated news with faces

thereby figured already within the structure of

assassination tales. Moreover, the uncertainty surrounding

television news at the time generated a flurry of

attention around television journalists, whose invocation

and utilization of the new medium thrust many into the

critical public eye for the first time.

A concern for professionalism also permeated

journalists' attempts to promote themselves as

celebrities. Legitimating the new medium of television

allowed for the rearrangement of professional roles in

existing media, giving celebrity alternate forms not only

in the medium being introduced but in other media too.

Notions of celebrity became differently informed by the

nascent forms of authoritative storytelling and new

prOfessional identities that adoption of each medium made

 316

not only possible, but if institutional inter-media

competition were to survive - necessary.

Technology and professional roles thereby helped

journalistic celebrities link their assassination

retellings with larger discourses external to the

journalistic community. In recollecting their coverage of

the Kennedy assassination, journalists were able to

promote themselves as celebrities parallel to both ongoing

discourses about journalistic professionalism and the

legitimation of television as a news rnediumD Celebrity

offered journalists ready-made ways of making sense of

assassination tales by offering them specific cues of

memory .. Individual reporters were made the pivotal point

o£ criss-crossing discourses about the assassination, on

one hand, and technology and professionalism" on the

other. Over time, this has offered assassination retellers

an effective way of both perpetuating their own presence

within their tales and gaining stature independent of

them. It has also set out the appropriate boundaries of

community. While offering a temporally and spatially

bounded memory system of shared perceptions and

recollections about Dallas, celebrity allows for the

systematic substitution of different reporters as part of

the assassination story, systematically thrusting certain

reporters into the public eye over others. According to

 317

such a sUbstitutional rule, di££erent journalists are

e££ectively "plugged in'; as celebrities £or having covered

the story. Di£ferentially associating the Tom Wickers, Dan

Rathers, Walter Cronkites or Theodore Whites with the

assassination story, dependent on the larger discourses

about journalism that were at hand, is thus a critical

dimension o£ the workings o£ celebrity. Individual

journalists receive celebrity status because they have

attended to larger discourses about journalism.

Thus tales o£ journalistic celebrity have not only

helped journalists £ocus on themselves, thereby

rein£orcing their celebrity status and promoting them in a

£ashion separate and independent o£ the assassination

tales they tell, but they have also set up the collective

boundaries o£ journalistic practice. Certain journalists

have been legitimated in ways which set them up as

independent £rames o£ re£erence £or the journalistic

community. Celebrity has thereby helped mark memories of

the assassination, at the same time as it has signalled

both the status o£ memory-bearers and the boundaries of

the community where they reside. It has made the

assassination narrative into a locus by which journalists'

celebrity status has given them a more generalized stature

as cultural authorities.
 318

The Kennedy assassination constituted one obvious

cornerstone upon which tales of journalistic celebrities

could groWa The Kennedy administration, like the

assassination that brought it to an end, catered to

journalists' celebrity status. In recalling his coverage

of Kennedy's reign, ~_~§.h_;L.n£!tcm __ Y.o_§i_ reporter Dav id Broder

maintained that the President's live television

con£erences dret<J reporters who generally eschewed

institutionalized set-ups:

Some of those (reporters) Kennedy recognized

regularly became TV stars themselves, and that
status reinforced by invitations to White
House parties and dinners - did nothing to hurt
the administration 7 .

Kennedy's administration was "an American court where the

rich, the glamorous and the powerful congratulated each

other. It was a pantheon of celebrity" ". The President

set up parameters which made celebrity a viable context

for remembering his life and death.

Over the 25 years since Kennedy was shot,

journalistic retellings of the assassination have upheld

these parameters 9. Certain journalists developed into

celebrities for their post-assassination reconstructions

of Kennedy's reign '0. Others found that retelling the

assassination was a fertile ground for reporters to be

perpetuated from positions of well-knownedness. Labelling

 319

writers Theodore White and Hugh Sidey "Kennedy's elegists"

was a case in point 1 1 Upholding reporters as

celebrities, often in front of the names of organizations

employing them, was thus realized in a systematic and

regularized fashion. Assassination narratives displayed

the names of individual reporters as emblems of authority

for the events in Dallas.

Retelling the Kennedy assassination thus gave

journalists a stage on which to gain and maintain status.

Their record of the assassination allowed them to

narratively reconstruct its events in ways which addressed

and reinforced - their own celebrity. Four individual

reporters have been consistently mentioned in conjunction

with assassination retellings - Tom Wicker, Dan Rather,

Walter Cronkite and Theodore White. Each has become a

celebrity because tales of his rise to fame attended to

more general concerns at issue :for journalistic

professionals ..

Narratives about Tom Wicker perhaps best exemplify

how members of the journalistic community felt about

success£ully covering the assassination as a member o£ the

printed press. Tales told of Wicker being on the scene

continuously for the first day of events, until he filed

his report at day's end from an airport terminal. His

 320

performance was regarded as an ideal per£ormance o£

American journalism, for it showed ho" the goals of speedy

coverage, eyewitness reporting and terse prose could still

produce a journalistic success story.

Years later, colleague Harrison Salisbury praised

Wicker's on-the-scene reporting by saying that

The coverage had begun "ith classic reportage -

Tom Wicker's on-the-scenes eyewitness. It could
not be beat. (I told him to) ... just "rite every
single thing you have seen and heard. Period. He
did. No more magnificent piece of journalistic
wri ting has been published in the :rj._'!l_~§_. Through
Tom's eye we lived through each minute of that
fatal Friday, the terror, the p~in, the horror,
the mindless tragedy, elegant, blood-chilling
prose ~ ..;;;:.

One telling aspect of Salisbury's comments is located in

his final sentence - "the horror, the mindless tragedy,

elegant, blood-chilling prose." The transformation by

which Salisbury quietly moves from telling the horror of

the event to telling the elegance of the "riting in which

it was inscribed is a seemingly innocuous one. But in so

doing, Salisbury rein£orces an intrinsic asssociation

between Wicker's role in telling Kennedy's death and the

events of the death themselves. Salisbury makes it appear

as if Wicker himself is a natural part of the

assassination story, a pattern frequently repeated in

tales of journalistic celebrity.

Narratives of Wicker's celebrity status have been

predicated upon such an association - Wicker in Dallas as

 321

part of the Dallas story. Indeed, Wicker's performance in

Dallas has been reinforced in subsequent stories o£ his

own career trajectory. Said one observer p '"[Link] was a

product of events, an individual whose career had been

advanced by the reporting of the assassination" .:. The

point at ",hich he became known in his own right was not

long in coming.

The professional gains associated with covering the

assassination story were indicated already a year after

Kennedy's death. At that point ~Y. magazine reported that

Along with tangible profitsp many people's

careers have received boosts thanks to Oswald's
marksmanship. The brilliant performance of Tom
Wi c ker of I.h."L__..l'!.§,.I:'. ____'L9£lL_'Lb.!!!..§'..§., wr i t i ng from
Dallas for the newspaper of record - under what
was obviously incredible pressure - so impressed
his bosses that he is now the Washington bureau
chie£ :1. ...
-1> ..

Wicker's promotion- the "most bruising, office-politics

wise'" because it propelled him ahead of veteran reporters

who had been led to expect the same post was

significant for it came directly after Dallas. As Gay

Talese mentioned, "after the assassination story that day,

and the related stories that followed, Wicker's stock rose

sharply It thus made sense that

perpetuate Wicker's celebrity status. Upholding Wicker as

a celebrity for having exemplified what was construed as

journalistic professionalism did not only accomplish

 322

individual aims. It also justiried organizational actions

taken on his behalr years earlier.

Tales or Tom Wicker the celebrity have thus been

linked with highly topical discourses about what it meant

to be a print-media proressional in the age or television.

Through the individual, this celebrity tale has allowed

larger discourses about television journalism and

journalistic proressionalism to intersect with

assassination narratives. It underscores the viability or

print journalism and shows that celebrities have been

generated by that medium too. For larger boundaries or

journalistic community, commonality and authority, this

tale thereby suggests the relevance or dirrerent media in

the making or journalistic celebrities.

Narratives about the perrormance or Dan Rather in

Dallas were similarly linked in with ongoing discourses

about journalistic pro£essionalism and television

journalism, but rrom the side or television. Tales about

Rather address attempts to legitimate television

correspondents as bona ride reporters. Rather too was on-

the-spot when Kennedy was killed, but rather than remain

on the scene, as Wicker had done, he rushed to the nearest

CBS arriliate where he succeeded in providing rapid up-to-

date relays or what was happening in the city.

 323

comparison here is telling. \'Jhile lVicker

anticipated the deadlines of printing by following the

story to the airport, where he labored in less-than-

supportive conditions to turn out prose,. Rather

anticipated the demands of television technology by

rushing ~~_~_ from the story and t.9~?~££ the technology ot

its telling. In other words, he ran to the nearest

affilia"te. The fact that he successfully filed the story

depended directly on his subordinates, who remained on the

scene to supply him with information. The difference in

these tales - which outlined how the story was covered by

two different media suggests how necessary was the

celebrity tale for validating television journalists at

the time.

Narratives about Rather gave him an individual

vantage point, becoming frequently referenced in stories

about his personal career trajectory. In November of 1964,

2g~ magazine pointed out the fact that

Dan Rather, CBS's slightly wiggy Dallas

correspondent, seems to have caught the fancy of
his superiors. He may end up with a plummy
foreign assignment - perhaps Vietnam '7.

While the magazine erred in the exact details of Rather's

promotion, the upwardly-mobile nature of its account

proved true over time. Rather's cool-headed performance in

Dallas was construed as having earned him a White House

posting,. "over the heads of several more experienced

 324

Washington reporters II :I. C::\. Journalistic lore held that "he

came to national prominence through his coverage of the

Kennedy assassination" and that the day that Kennedy

died was

in career terms, the most important day in Dan

Rather's life. His swift and accurate reporting
of the Kennedy assassination and its aftermath
that weekend transformed him from a regional
journalist into a national correspondent 2 0 .

Institutionally-grounded discourse has thereby upheld

Rather as a celebrity, through his assassination coverage.

But the celebrity tale does not only have individual

repercussions. It has also figured in organizational

overviews of CBS News and more generalized discussions

about the legitimacy of television journalism. By

reflecting larger attempts to legitimate television

correspondents as bona fide reportersp tales of Rather's

activities are important to the community because they

have set up parameters of journalistic practice, community

and authority. They pay deference to larger discourses

about. journalistic professionalism and television

journalism, showing that it is possible to gain celebrity

status through the broadcast media.

Tales about both Tom Wicker and Dan Rather can be

seen as playing an important communal role. They have

foregrounded for all journalists the indicative dimensions

of journalistic performance. Tales of celebrity have set

 325

out the appropriate parameters o£ journalistic practice,

by grounding what journalism pro£essionals .. do .... At the

same time, they uphold the two sub-communities which

[Link] the larger community of' journalism pro£essionals,

broadcast and print, thereby highlighting the ritual

aspects o£ creating community that rete11ings o£ the

assassination achieve for its retellers. More important,

they suggest that it is possible to assume an

authoritative presence in such retellings, regardless o£

the medium where one is employed.

While tales o£ Wicker and Rather underscore the

propriety o£ standard journalistic practice across media,

other narratives highlight the elevated Iorms in which

individuals worked in each medium. Narratives about Walter

Cronkite's per£ormance in Dallas provide such a stage in

discussions about television journalism. While discussions

about Rather underscore the standard dimensions o£

broadcast journalism, narratives about Cronkite signal the

more re£ined and sophisticated dimensions o£ journalistic

performance within that same medium.

Narratives about Cronkite have created a re£erence

point in discussions not only about coverage o£ the

Kennedy assassination but about the evolution o£ American

television journalism. Cronkite stayed on-air £or much o£

 326

the first day of events, and was responsible for conveying

to the public the news that Kennedy was dead. His

emotional relay of that fact, coupled with a number of

activities which appeared to underscore the anchorperson's

distressed state notably, removing his eyeglasses in a

distracted fashion and forgetting to put on his suit

jacket - made his performance an effective example of

how it was possible to cast professionalism as improvisory

and instinctual behavior. Cronkite cried, looked

distraught, appeared emotionally moved, and then composed

himself to carry the nation through its evolving crisis.

He sidestepped his own personal distress to act as father

figure and master of ceremony throughout the four-day

ordeal.

Cronkite's activities were important for the then-

burgeoning authentication of anchorpeople as journalists.

Discourse centered on both his deeds and words. One 1983

!'!§'~§x"'."'.!:';. article on the assassination typically held that

Walter Cronkite broke into a popular CBS soap

opera, "As the World Turns," with the first TV
bulletin of the attack on JFK ,,,,c".

The next sentence noted that Cronkite was U£or 19 years

anchorman of the CBS Evening News. II Like other

institutionalized recountings of the assassination,

link between the

anchor's role in covering the assassination story and his

 327

personal career trajectory. Another 1983 discussion of

coverage of the Kennedy assassination was entitled "The

Age of Cronkite" .3. Yet another print retrospective of

television's fiftieth anniversary hailed Cronkite for

having taken the American people through assassinations,

conventions and space shots:

(his) reputation for being the TV news authority

had evolved in the early 60s and was underscored
by his coverage of the assassination of
President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963.
For four straight days, beginning on Friday
afternoon, Cronkite sat in the anchor chair,
sometimes in his shirt sleeves and sometimes in
tears, through the Monday when JFK was buried at
Arlington National Cemetery --

Seen as producing a personae" for American

journalists, the image of solid integrity that Cronkite

projected would thereafter be emulated by journalists

across the country It was "Cronkite"'s performance

that was invariably cited" when admiration was expressed

"for the restraint, the taste and the all-around

professionalism of TV's coverage that weekend":

Some of the things he did that day would pass

into folklore and become part of the legend.
More than a decade later, journalism pro£essore
would still be telling their students, who were
mere children at the time, how Walter Cronkite
cried on air when he had to report the official
announcement that President John F. Kennedy was
dead ,i?Ii:':'.

That fact depended no less on institutional efforts at

commemorating his deeds and words than the role he

originally played in covering the assassination.

 328

The legitimation or television anchorpersons~ as

exemplified by discussions of Cronkite's celebrity, has

thus become a central dimension of many assassination

tales. Tales of Cronkite as celebrity have created, and

reinforced!, not only his individual status, but also the

legitimate presence of television journalists and the

consoling role of anchorpeople in times o£ crisis.

Cronkite's activities in Dallas have made him a celebrity

by upholding the improvisory and instinctual behavior that

journalists looked upon as the mark of the true

professional. Perhaps more than other journalists, tales

about Cronkite underscore the recasting of professional

paradigms suggested by the events of Kennedy's death. In

addition, they are important for evolving discussions

about the relevance of anchorpeople as a separate yet

functional breed of journalists. These tales uphold the

sUbjunctive mood of journalistic practice by outlining

"what should be" to members of the community.

A subjunctive mood of practice was similarly upheld

in narratives about Theodore White. In much that same way

that tales of Cronkite reflect the elevated forms of

broadcast journalistic practice, narratives about White

signify the more refined dimensions of the print media.

White·s performance on the assassination story was coopted

 329

within discussions o£ the glory o£ the ,,,ritten

journalistic word. This is significant, for the written

word, as an effective mode o£ journalistic story-telling,

underwent questioning following what was perceived to be

the successful televised coverage o£ Kennedy's death.

While White was not present during the immediate

events o£ Kennedy's death, his summons by Jacqueline

Kennedy one week later drew him into the public eye.

White's narrative recounting o£ her experiences in Dallas,

coupled with the labelling - at Jackie's behest - o£ the

Kennedy administration as "Camelot .. cast [Link] te as one o£

the more effective storytellers o£ the time. White's

success with the written word rapidly turned him into a

journalistic celebrity. His ability to succe.s.s£ully

wrestle prose into desired form evolved into an archetypal

type of narrative structure that olas emulated by

journalists in all media. His appearance at Jacqueline

Kennedy's Hyannisport home a week after Kennedy's death

was portrayed in fictionalized form in the film I..,?£gy_",_l,..!.I!!2.

!:l.'?1l.Y.'!.§E....__.!s;''''_'1!1.§..9.Y.. where their meeting alone ,,,as used to

signify Kennedy's death All o£ this drew Ilihi te away

from periodicized journalism and toward book publishing.

He remained interested in the larger, more general issues

that rested behind the making o£ current events, and his

series o£ books on the Presidential campaigns were

 330

considered first-rate by other journalists. Nonetheless,

he continued to define himself and was defined by others

as a journalist. His eulogy, printed in [Link].§. in 1986,

called him "a reporter in search of history"

Within larger discussions o£ journalistic community

and authority, narratives about White as celebrity suggest

again how it was possible to cast the boundaries of

professional journalism in different ways. His self-

defined interest in history, his search for general

impulses in society, his exemplary writing style all

reconfigure the limits of what good print journalism is

thought to be. In much the same way that Cronkite

epitomizes the anchorperson as an effector of unity and

consolation~ White epitomizes the print reporter as a

person who not only wrote well but was concerned with

issues beyond the contemporaneous event o£ news reporting.

Thus tales about White as celebrity, like those about

Cronkite, have upheld the subjunctive mood of journalistic

practice. They signify what print journalism professionals

"should be." In both cases, tales of celebrity signal the

emulatory state of journalistic professionalism to members

of the community. Circulation of these narratives have

played an important role to journalists trying to

authenticate themselves as an interpretive community. It

is significant that both subjunctive and indicati v"e

 331

dimensions of journalistic celebrity are held up through

the pivotal point of the individual reporter. For it

Suggests how central is the individual within the

collective lore circulated among journalism professionals.

These £our cases - while not the only celebrities

associated with the assassination story suggest that

assassination recollections have produced uni£orm

narratives that feature journalists with tenable celebrity

status. Recollections which reinforce the celebrity status

of certain reporters have been perpetuated, while tales

which documented the presence of lesser-known journalists

have been left out. The Theodore Whites, Dan Rathers,

Walter Cronkites and Tom Wickers have been successfully

incorporated as journalistic celebrities because tales

about their activities have attended to ongoing discourses

about journalism: Accomodating a tale about Dan Rather not

only effectively tells the assassination story but it also

attends to then-current doubts about the legitimacy of

television journalists. By weaving the lives and careers

of certain reporters into recollections of the

assassination story~ assassination narratives have thereby

highlighted the professional activities of well-known

journalists, particularly national television journalists,

in covering the story. This has allowed journalists to

facilitate the growth of their celebrity status in a way

 332

that separates it from the assassination's retelling,

giving them independent stature. But it also at the time

rein£orced hidden institutional agendas about then-nascent

features of journalistic professionalism and television

journalism!' setting out both indicative and subjunctive

dimensions about what constitutes appropriate journalistic

practice. The celebrity tale thus has both individual and

collective dimensions.

The above-mentioned personalities have not been

perpetuated as celebrities for having covered [Link]

assassination story simply because they reported or

desired it, however. Their association with the events of

Kennedy's death has been systematically promoted by

institutional discourses and practices. In the final

analysis, creating celebrities from assassination

retellers has depended on the institutional backdrop from

which journalists told their tales. The fact that

assassination tales set up certain journalists as

celebrities while dropping others from collective

consciousness was realized in accordance with the

institutional support lent them. Gaining status for

retelling the assassination has thus depended on media

backing.
 333

NevJs organizations played an active part in

legitimating the celebrity status of reporters who covered

the assassination. This does not mean that no journalists

went across media boundaries to perpetuate their authority

for retelling the assassination story. In 1988, for

example, reporter Robert MacNeil compiled a pictorial

history of the assassination entitled I.!:'-'2...J;1€\y.•.•... .. l'!.'2......._i.:'i!2X!2.•

Discussions of the book were used as part of §Q9_9....Ji9.n,J.'.l9.

!:\l!l.§.....:i,.'=§!: s attempt to mark the twenty-fifth anniversary of

Kennedyls assassination, and MacNeil was introduced as

having been "in Dallas on this day 25 years ago when

President Kennedy was assassinated" One PBS

documentary about Kennedy featured print reporter Tom

Wicker recounting his own narratives almost verbatim 30

The possibility for cross-breeding across media was

derived in both cases from the reporter's celebrity

status. Celebrity was also reinforced by one's words being

systematically reprinted and circulated by other media.

News organizations have effectively perpetuated

journalistic celebrity through two arenas of discourse and

practice - commemoration and recycling. Both arenas have

been used alone and in tandem to systematically signal

journalists' celebrity status.

 334

Commemoration constitutes one way to accord

journalists special status for having covered the

assassination story. Commemoration accords assassination

discourse a self-referential status, giving the events in

Dallas their own authority. For example, a news-item about

Dallas on the anniversary of Kennedy's death references

the assassination story in a way that sidesteps possible

controversy about whether it is well-placed. Thus writer

Gary Wills waited for the twentieth anniversary of Dallas

to publish his as did William

Manchester in ~:,l :1.

Anniversaries, in particular, have given media

institutions marked [Link] of commemorating the

assassination coverage. Anniversaries serve not only as

loci of memories o£ the assassination, but also as loci

for the journalists who bear such memories. As one

journalist remarked, they produce their own genre of news

story - "anniversary journalism" ~')i;;:~.

Anniversaries offer journalists a wide range of media

formats by which to associate themselves with the

assassination story. In print,. journalists have used

recognized and routinized dates to generate special

commemorative issues about the assassination, special

sections in journals and commemorative volumes ;,:o:.:r!.

 335

Commemoration ranges from actual reconstructions of the

assassination story to extensive "where were you" articles

that key into the recollections of prominent people 34. In

the broadcast media, journalists have coordinated the

production of media retrospectives around assassination

anniversaries The tone and content of televised

recollections not only reflect existing trends in news

programming but i t has been tied into larger moods and

concerns at the time of each anniversary: Issues o£

technology, for instance .. were first discussed in 1967 in

an early CBS series about charges of conspiracy and the

assassination~ but were doubly revived in 1988, when CBS's

E.9..H!:.___.Q?y.§.... j,-'L._.!I!.9.:'i:.!?J!!l?51!:. s t r e ssed the tec h no 1 og i cal tr i urn phs

and limitations of television and PBS used scientific

technology to reexamine the evidence in Kennedy's

assassination 36.

These commemorative efforts have helped journalists

perpetuate their chronicles as the longstanding record of

one group of assassination retellers. Its record has

increasingly incorporated journalists as its narrators, a

point particularly borne out by the broadcast media: Early

assassination retrospectives were narrated by actors like

Cliff Robertson, Larry McCann, Hal Holbrook or Richard

Baseheart; later efforts employed the skills and talents

of Edwin Newman, Walter Cronkite, Dan Rather, Nancy

 336

Dickerson~ Tom Brokaw or John Chancellor. Choosing

[Link] over actors £or the part o£ narrator

highlights the emerging authority o£ journalists as

legitimate retellers o£ the assassination. It also

reinforces the growing part played by narrators o£

[Link] retrospectives in institutional recollections

of the assassination~

Journalists also have commemorated assassination

coverage by highlighting .. the club" o£ reporters who

originally participated in the story. Assigning them

collective status has perpetuated the stories o£ a £ew

reporters as representative o£ tales o£ the many.

Perpetuating .. the club"' also underscores the relevance of

the norm in consolidating professionals into one cohesive

group, a point with direct relevance £or the emergence o£

journalists as an interpretive community.

In such a light, nearly all television retrospectives

conclude with long lists o£ names o£ journalists who had

participated in the original coverage. One 1988 PBS

documentary proposed to identi£y people "'by their

positions or a££iliations in the £all o£ 1963", creating

an lias if" mood to the recollections they embodied

lengthy lists o£ both

correspondents, management personnel and technical crew

who had participated on the assassination story in radio

 337

and television ':·Hi-:lo

!:b'lJ?J::.§'.t.:l§'.9. ended '" i t h "a note to more than 500 people IOho

pooled their e££orts to provide continuous and extensive

coverage. II Slides sholOed names o£ the "key members o£ the

Certain "'lead" status has also been assigned to

journalists viewed as having led "the club" o£ reporters

working the story. For example, many television and print

retrospectives stressed the role played by columnist

Walter Lippmann, IOhose words o£ interpretation were moved

to £ront-page columns alongside actual assassination

£requently cited. Reston, whose consolatory columns in the

days following the assassination were lauded across media,

was hailed in a 1987 ABC celebrity pro£ile, which called

him the "most in£luential journalist in the country":

There is no way in television~ sadly, to

preserve Restonls prose or capture the real
essence o£ his in£luence, £or burdened by the
pain o£ loss £or millions o£ people, Reston has
made the world less confusing 41

In the item, anchorperson Peter Jennings quoted verbatim

from Reston's assassination coverage, seen against still

pictures o£ John-John saluting his dead £ather. The

semiotic message of Reston's narrative prose being used to

anchor the visuals supplied by television £it well into

 338

larger discourses about celebrity, technology and

professionalism.

Perpetuating lithe club" has also been realized in a

more literal fashion. In November of 1988, the original

press corps who covered the assassination convened in

Washington to commemorate the events 25 years earlier ~I·;!:~:

,
underscoring the assassination's centrality for those

journalists who had covered it. The fact that nearly all

television and print retrospectives have assigned

collective status to the reporters who o'riginally worked

on the assassination story - and kept their status alive -

suggests how central it is not only to collective and

individual professional identities but also to the

formation of collective status around celebrity tales.

Commemorative discourse and practice has thus given

journalists routinized ways through which to promote their

associations with the assassination story. News

organiza"tiona have given budding celebrities the

opportunity of consolidating their status at the same time

as they strengthen and rein£orce the stature of

journalists independent of the assassination story itself.

For journalists intent on building up their authoritative

presence within the assassination story, commemorative

discourse and practice has thus given them an

institutional base on which to do so.

 339

Recycled discourse and practice is a second arena

that has given journalists in both the broadcast media and

printed press a way to perpetuate their own stories,

presence~ authority and, ultimately, celebrity in

conjunction with Kennedy's assassination. Each medium's

technological £eatures have allowed £or the £urtherance o£

original tales that £irst appeared in it, with the ability

to recycle discourse dependent on decisions by media

organizations that such discourse was worthy o£ being

recycled.

[Link]:I.!~LG... Special issues o£ magazines, journals,

newspapers and books have systematically borrowed the

words o£ reporters which had originally graced their

pages. The dispatches of certain journalists were

highlighted via their circulation in in-house journals:

Merriman Smith's dispatch o£ November 23 was reproduced in

UPI's l!£J. . . ..E.§'-P.Q.I.:. t..§..:r. and later reissued as part o£ a special

UPI book entitled It was also reproduced in

the trade publ ication );.';tLtg-L..~n.s!....£'d.£!.!§h.§'_":" together with

a letter where UPI editors hailed Smith's coverage as "an

historic memento, an example o£ narrative style at its

best·· The words o£ Associated Press correspondent Jack

Bell were £eatured in its 100-page book Ih.§..._....[Link].S'.Il......J.§;.

 340

extensive compilation of reporters' original assassination

accounts under the title "The Reporters' Story"

Reprintings rein£orced the importance of original

accounts, as well as their links with original tellers.

One journalist whose words have been frequently

reprinted was Tom Wicker. One of Wicker's first pieces

about the assassination~ entitled "That Day in Dallas,"

was reprinted in December in the in-house t1.§-'~!,._YQ,:<.:.I5_._TJ.,~..§.§,

organ, It was again reprinted one year

later

Must Trust His Instinct" Wicker used the space

provided him to question the validity of eyewitness

testimony, journalistic clarity, even the ability to

remember what went on during those four days. "Even now, I

know of no reporter who was there who has a clear and

orderly picture of that surrealistic afternoon,'" he

commented . . . ,·if) Wicker's piece raised questions about the

performance of journalists and the boundaries of

appropriate journalistic practice during the

assassination. Its reprinting reflects the problems of

journalistic practice and definitions of professionalism

raised by the assassination.

But other words of Wicker have also been reprinted.

Seven months after the assassination he penned an article

for ES£y'..,:h,:,::,§, entitled "Kennedy Without Tears" ";0, that was

 341

acclaimed as outstanding journalism and called a OI

non -

textbook history" of the 19608 ""i While that label

attested to the already burgeoning tensions between

journalists and historians over the role of authorized

retellers of the assassination, it nonetheless reinforced

Wicker's celebrity for having covered the original

assassination story. The piece was subsequently reprinted

as a book wi thin the year and in g,§,-'ly.,,i,!:§,. ten years later

~e? where it was so identified in a small blurb:

Tom Wicker's brilliant <and heart-breaking)

coverage of the assassination for the !'!.§.~.._.Y9_J;.!s.
I~~~§ moved g~~ui~e to ask him to write this
essay seven months later in June 1964. Mr.
Wicker went on to become chief of the Washington
bureau and an associate edt tor of the Ti.I!!.§§. ~:;:;;:;.

Notes about the author commented that he "covered most of

the events of the Kennedy administration and was riding in

the Presidential motorcade when John Kennedy was murdered

in Dallas" ~4. Wicker's presence at the assassination thus

l

became embedded in tales of the events of that November.

The career trajectory by which he covered the

assassination and went on to heights of journalistic glory

was clearly documented by the institutions which have

reprinted his words .. Later, they would figure in accounts

uphelding his celebrity status independent of the

assassination story which facilitated it.

In some cases reprinting original assassination

accounts has allowed journalists to key in to other

 342

narratives. For example, a special commemorative volume on

Kennedy, issued 25 years after his death, <vas linked to

the events in Dallas by reprinting t<vo articles by

Theodore White - an essay which he had <vritten t<venty-

five years earlier and his famous post-

assassination interview with Jackie Kennedy that labelled

the Kennedy administration "Camelot" Not accidentally,

the label of "Camelot" became part of the title of the

commemorative volume, <vhich had itself been sponsored by

Time-Life books, the parent company of bJ_f.§. magazine.

Other Time-Life publications, including :'Ltm.§. magazine,

similarly reprinted excerpts of the original White essay

The fact that ne<vs organizations have chosen to

reprint original assassination prose accounts in order to

reconstruct the events in Dallas suggests much about the

authority of journalistic presence. Recollections of the

assassination coverage are given an authority accrued from

recapturing - and reproducing - the events "as they were".

Yet the decision to reprint the story's original tellings

also embeds the names. of original tellers within

institutional recollections. Reprinting practices thus

reinforce associations between the assassination story and

the names Or certain reporters in a way which allows

JOUrnalists to uphold their celebrity status separate from

 343

the event. The fact that many reprintings have

proliferated around the assassination~s anniversary only

reinforces how central to the original story journalists

have become.

In the broadcast media,

recycled discourse and practice has been accomplished

through media retrospectives and special documentaries

about the assassination. These presentations function

similarly to reprinting in the press, in that they give

journalists a way to narrate - and thus reconstruct

their original stories of coverage. Journalists

incorporate contemporary voice-overs to original film-

clips, thereby embedding references to their own celebrity

status.

Of the broadcast journalists featured by media

retrospectives, CBS' Dan Rather perhaps best exemplifies

how retrospectives effectively uphold journalistic

celebrity. His performance has been systematically

replayed in various CBS retrospectives, many of which

employed him as narrator: He narrated a three-part news

series in 1983 investigating the myths and realities

behind Kennedy's assassination, an eight-part news series

in 1988 and a two-hour documentary called fP_l!.!: .....J?3!.Y..§L........,i,.I'..

which aired on the 25th anniversary of Kennedy's

 344

death Ending his narration of the documentary, Rather

concluded with

a personal note, based on the many years CBS

News and I have spent investigating, thinking
about those four days. It was a day we haven't
shown that also has alot of meaning for me - the
fifth day. Tuesday. On Tuesday, American went
back to work •.• So it is Tuesday I often think of

That line, labelled "Rather Blather" by one observer ",e"

nonetheless reinforced Rather's role as an authoritative

interpreter of the assassination story. Connections

between the assassination narrative, his interpretation of

it and his status as a journalist were thus embedded

within media retrospectives. The fact that stories of his

assassination coverage have been found equally in

chronicles of his career shows how that authority has

helped make him into a journalistic celebrity for his

coverage.

Yet another type of

institutionally-backed discourse which has perpetuated

assassination tales through journalists' celebrity status

is self-quoting_ In itself a specific case of recycled

discourse, self-quoted discourse allows journalists to

incorporate original tales within larger contemporary

accounts of the assassination. This perrnits them to look

back and comment - upon their own words, creating a

 345

self-referential discourse by which they can assume the

position of commentator on their own views.

Like other kinds o£ recycled discourse, self-quoting

depends on media backing in order to be effectively

staged. To a certain extent~ it was anticipated already

when reporters interviewed other reporters on the night of

the assassination: For example, that night NBC's Huntley-

Brinkley Report interviewed reporters about what they had

seen and written But self-quoted discourse has been

most effective when realized over time. Reportersi'

appearances on talk-shows and documentary specials, and

frequent interviews in the press about the words through

which they originally reported the assassination story

create and re£erence the authoritative presence o£ certain

reporters over others. Such presence effectively

references the added authority that comes from commenting

on one's own performance from afar.

For example, radio reporter Ike Pappas took part in

the following televised exchange about his coverage o£

Oswald's murder 25 years earlier:

Pappas: My job that day was to get an interview

with this guy, when nobody else was going to get
an interview ••• So I said the only thing which I
could say, which was the story. Tell the story:
"Oswald has been shot. A shot rang out. [Link]
has been shot".

Rivera: Is that the single most profound or

dramatic moment of your life?
 346

Pappas: It's an extraordinary story. Probably

the most extraordinary story I'll ever cover 6 1 .

The exchange both referenced Pappas' pro£essionalism,

contextualized it as a critical incident in his

professional memory and upheld his ensuing independent

stature as a celebrity. Later reviews o£ Pappas'

professional career were structured around his coverage o£

the Kennedy assassination

Self-quoting lends an air o£ "r was there" but "now

I'm here" to narrative. Phrases like "'the crime of the

century, II "the end o£ innocence'" or "Camelot'" are paraded

about and commented upon - by journalists years after

their original coinage. For example, accounts o£ I~:tm.§.

correspondent Hugh Sidey were partly quoted, partly

paraphrased by the same magazine 25 years after Dallas

pointedly commented that "'back then, this is what we knew,

and this is how I reported it"' 64~ The documentary was

filled with clips of Rather's coverage from Dallas,

conveying the sensation that he had almost singlehandedly

mastered the entire assassination story. Reporter Steve

Bell introduced an on-air repeat of an original film-clip

of himself standing in front of the Texas School Book

Depository 25 years earlier am In a 1977 I;:_"'Sl1!J£§<. piece,

Tom Wicker wrote that

 347

within weeks (sic) of the assassination in

Dallas - which, as the !,!g~........."y_qEl';..........IJ.-_II\.""_'" Wh i te
House correspondent, I'd covered on November
22, 1963, I had written for §:§.9.".:i,..£§. a long
article that the magazine ran as a cover piece,
and called "Kennedy Without Tears ;'::.r.'::•• II

Wicker then quoted two lengthy paragraphs from his

original assassination coverage. He repeated the practice

in another essay, where he commented that "I wrote that

morning (of November 23) what I thought about the way

things were, and would be" €.,,"'"

Self-quoting allows reporters to set up their version

of OI who Kennedy wasil or "what happened during the

assassination" in order to revise it. In Wicker's case,

later articles detailed where he had earlier erred,

allowing him to conduct a dialogue with his own earlier

discourse. This self-re£erential framework not only

punctuates the authority of reporters for the events of

Kennedy's death, but it connects their original words,

revised with hindsight, to later discourses, thereby

upholding the independent nature of their celebrity

status.

These institutionally-backed discourses and practices

have thus set up an extended background against tvhieh to

perpetuate certain journalists as celebrities. Tales have

generally been recycled in the medium where they were

originally conveyed. Commemoration has given news

Organizations convenient, recognizable and routinized ways

 348

to highlight - and perpetuate - the status of certain

reporters. Recycling and self-quoting have maintained a

focus on the words of certain reporters, while deflecting

attention from those of others. Institutionally-backed

discourses and practices have thus depended first on in-

medium deliberations, on decisions taken by news

organizations that pronounce certain tales worthy of being

commemorated I recycled or quoted. Once pronounced worthy,

the words and deeds of journalists about the assassination

have been turned into fodder for extensive institutional

efforts at reproducing them. With time, the investments

surrounding such efforts have justified recognition of the

tale's original tellers as celebrities in their own right.

JJ:!&"_P"9_\!!.N.?J!2&"9f__<;;~b"J;"~BIIY
The fact that a range of personalities has been

perpetuated as celebrities for their part in retelling the

Kennedy assassination highlights different underlying

discourses about journalistic practice and authority.

Discourses connecting many journalists with the events of

the assassination weekend have been played out, and

ultimately either discarded or legitimated. Those

journalists who received institutional backing have been

promoted most effectively as celebrities over time.

But a number of other journalists who were actively

associated with Kennedy"'s assassination have not received

 349

general acclaim .. Some journalists lost their jobs due to

their assassination coverage. CBS' Robert Pierpoint was

rumored to have lost his Washington posting to Dan Rather,

because Pierpoint's cumulative experience did not match

Rather's skill in covering Dallas ~e. Other reporters lost

their positioning in the organizational hierarchy to Tom

Tom Pettit, whose on-

site, on-air coverage of Oswald's murder for NBC was

hailed in 1963 by 1?.F2_"l9£§.§j:,j,Il.9. mag az i ne as "a £irst in

television history" disappeared unexplained from

collective memory in later years.

Other journalists have been shunted into collective

oblivion. Reporter Hugh Aynesworth, for example, whose

assistance to more renowed reporters working the

assassination story earned him the title of its "longest

running reporter,"· was pushed aside to make place for

journalists with greater celebrity status 70, Penn Jones,

who uncovered a series of mysterious deaths related to the

assassination, was labelled "a sign of hope for the

survival of independent journalism" but cries of

acclaim were confined to the leftist press. Tabloid

journalist Geraldo Rivera claimed the dubious honor of

having first run a frame-by-frame analysis of Zapruder's

footage of Kennedy's shooting on nationwide television, in

a series he hosted in the mid-70s called Gg.Q-'L.__.B. ~..9h_:t.'-.

 350

but his tactics kept him marginalized to the

serious cadre of reporters working the story French

journalist Jean Daniel published interviews conducted

shortly before the assassination with Fidel Castro and

Kennedy, which pointed to a shared belief in U.S.

capitalism and Cuban communism, but media discussions of

Daniel's journalistic performance invariably labelled him

as being "too involved in politics" 74. Leads by reporter

Jack Anderson about Mafia involvement occupied columns of

the ~~_§...hj,)19_j::,2.!LJi'g_§.t.. during the 1970s, but were eventually

marginalized as tabloid journalism. Anderson's 1988

assassination documentary bore a 900-telephone number

which viewers could call if they wanted to reopen the

investigation p a far cry from the hard-news formats with

which Anderson had been earlier associated 7~.

The actions of each journalist have been rendered

marginal to consensus about appropriate journalistic

performanceI' denying celebrity status to the journalists

behind them. The fact that certain journalists have fallen

from fame and acclaim despite admirable original

performances in covering the assassination reveals much

about the workings of celebrity as a memory system. It

works by and through larger discourses of relevance to

the larger community of American journalists. Reporters

fell from fame because their performances did not attend

 351

to larger discourses about journalism. This does not

suggest that they did not attend to any discourses, only

that they attended to the wrong ones. They lacked

institutional support because their performances did not

sufficiently address or complement issues of concern to

journalism professionals. For example, Dan Rather"s

performance highlighted a more salient hidden agenda about

journalism - the legitimacy of television journalism

than did that of Penn Jones or Hugh Aynesworth, both of

\vhich addressed rightful parameters of investigative

journalism. Thus both were marginalized by other

journalists for being too political, too left-wing, too

tabloid or too local. Marginalization has denied them the

kind of institutional backdrop necessary to perpetuate

their tales and promote their celebrity status.

The point that certain noteworthy performances have

failed to generate celebrity status for their tellers,

while others that are potentially less praiseworthy have

produced such status is telling. It suggests that the

workings of journalistic celebrity depend less on actual

journalistic performances than on institutional agendas

and surrounding discourses about journalism. Celebrity

status for journalists is derived not only from the

quality of their performances but from larger agendas

related to the institutional apparatuses of American

 352

journalism. Both the institutional support that

journalists £ound available £or retelling their tales, as

well as the technological, pro£essional and cultural

discourses that made them timely, thus constitute £actors

which have figured into the workings of journalistic

celebrity.

Il:LE.;..YIhJ;lJ.!"JI.Y. __Q£.J?J;;:RPJ;:Il!bT:J:N~LIh!"g2_.I.!:!EQl!~JL.9g6J;J?.B.:J:_TI'
All of this attests to the viability of celebrity as

a memory system. Positioning individual reporters as

pivotal points £or criss-crossing discourses about the

assassination and about technology and journalistic

pro:fessionalism constitutes an effective Jfle8nS o£

perpetuating collective memories. In that light, Walter

Cronkite's performance became important in discussions of

parameters of televised journalistic practice, by

authenticating the consoling role o£ anchorpeople. Dan

Rather's coverage re£lected growing attempts to legitimate

television correspondents as bona £ide reporters. Theodore

White's coverage highlighted the glory o£ the written

word, which faced competition following the effective

televised coverage of much of the assassination story. Tom

Wicker's per£ormance highlighted the old guard o£ American

journalism, showing that objectives of speedy coverage,

eyewitness reporting and terse prose still constituted

viable goals. Tales o£ celebri"ty attested to the

 353

subjunctive and indicative dimensions of individual

journalistic performance, thereby setting up the narrative

parameters by which journalists can agree on what

constitutes appropriate journalistic practice and

authority.

Other performances - related to ongoing investigatory

agendas or uncovering conspiracies- have had less to do

with the workings of celebrity because they do not

directly highlight relevant tensions within the

institutions o£ American journalism. Celebrity, then,

constitutes an effective memory system for journalists

precisely because it £ocuses attention on issues crucial

to journalism through individual reporters. As cited

earlier, celebrity gives journalists idealized notions of

how to act or be, institutionally-correct

versions o£ such actions. Celebrity, as a memory system,

helps to mould journalists within the contours of

institutionally-supported agendas. As Leo Braudy has

commented"

the urge to fame is not so much a cause as a

causal nexus through ,ohich more generalized
forces political, theological, artistic,
economic, SOCiological flow to mediate the
shape of individual lives 7~

Yet even Braudy's list does not account for all possible

features of journalistic celebrity. Technological,

cultural, institutional and professional factors are among

 354

those which inflect upon its workings as a memory system.

The emergence and perpetration of contemporary

journalistic celebrity is thus neither simplistic nor

static but a complex matrix of larger discourses and

practices on a variety of issues. Tales which become

markers of journalists' celebrity status cluster around

professional issues central to journalism. In retelling

the assassination, these issues concerned the legitimacy

of television as a medium, with tales often used to embed

the authority of reporters within larger discussions of

television technology.

Journalists have thus used celebrity to gain the

advantages offered by systematized recollection. Celebrity

has cued users into certain personalities and individuals

as opposed to more global forms of remembering, all the

while providing the illusion of closure and embedding new

cues and signals within an already existent associative

rrame'VJor k .. This makes implicit sense to a community that

authenticates itself through its narratives, memories and

rhetoric. It also solidifies the ritual dimensions of the

very act o£ retelling.

These pages have addressed the tales and practices

that have made the storytellers not only more prominent

than the assassination stories they told but remembered

and appreciated in a fashion independent from the

 355

narratives which originally thrust them into the public

eye. It thus makes sense that celebrity as a memory system

has lingered in the reconstruction work by which

journalists £ashion their assassination tales. Celebrity

not only provides a set of shared perceptions and

recollections about Dallas through which certain reporters

have been systematically thrust into the public eye over

others, but it helps mark memories of the assassination in

a way which independently signals the status of memory-

bearers"

Perpetuating assassination tales through celebrity

thus effectively blurs distinctions between "the event o.

and "the event as told" in journalistic accounts of the

assassination. It suggests how journalists as tellers-of-

the-event have become the most valued part of the

assassination's retelling. By embedding their own presence

in their assassination tales, journalists have created a

situation which references their own stature as an

integral part of it. Invoking celebrity as a memory system

has encouraged journalists to remember the events of

Kennedy's death by recalling the Walter Cronkites, Dan

Rathers and Tom \Hckers who gave them voice. Equally

important, recalling the Cronkites, Rathers or Wickers has

become a goal in its own right.

 356

1 Leo Braudy, Ih§!..X:r:.oe.D~:t.....9.:L-Be"£~n (NeVI Yorl<: Oxford

University Press, 1986). p. 592.
~, Daniel Boorstin, Ih§!...Xl]l§..g.§!. (New York: Atheneum, 1962),
p. 57.
~ Braudy, p. 10.
" Richard Dyer, ;:';:I:;.§.E§. (London: British Film Institute,
1978), p. 7.
~ This has parallels in other era. For example, during the
1940s, journalistic celebrity was defined through radio,
with personalities like Edward Murrow or Howard K. Smith
celebrated through the immediacy of their news dispatches.
Certain presentational formats have also traditionally
spotlighted the news-tellers alongside their news-stories:
The column, for example, gave print journalists the
opportunity to highlight themselves while relaying the
news, making them comparable to many contemporary
television anchorpeople [See Michael Baruch Grossman and
Ma r t h a J 0 yn t Ku mar, P_2.:r::I:;".9..yj,I!£Lj;'-'l§'--!'.'.:.-'~§.4&.§!nt ( Ba 1 tim 0 r e :
Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981), p. 209]. All of
this reinforces the fact that journalistic celebrity has
in some senses been around £or as long as journalism.
Therefore, suggestions that television has produced
journalistic celebrity, due to the intensified focus on
anchorpersons, generated by satellite transmission and
improved video equipment may be misplaced. The
association may have more to do with the fact that
television is the most recent medium for news, and when
that status changes so will discussions of journalistic
celebrity •
• Michael Schudson, "The Politics of Narrative Form: The
Emergence of News Conventions in Print and Television" in
P."!§!.9."!J,.11.§ ( Fa 11, 1 982) •
"7 Da v i d Brod e r, f\.§'.[Link]!:):.'?.!:!t ....l2.<:!.9.§,. ( New Yo r k :
Touchstone Books, 1987), p. 158.
"' La wr e n ce Wrig h t , I.J.l......t.P."'....N.!?"L.Y!.9E.!.£. ( New Yo r k: Vi n tag e
Books, 1983), p. 34. Certain reporters even exploited the
celebrity status they gained during the Kennedy reign, as
when ~~.§.h.i.!:!.[Link]....P.Q.§.t. editor Benjamin Bradlee published
9..QI!.y.§'.L'!;.i'!:I:;i.<?!:!.§.....'!!1J.t.h. K§!.n!:!.§!.9y'. ( New Yor k : W• W• Nor ton, 1 975), a
book that detailed the intimate workings of his friendship
wi th the President. That same year, !:t~£:2.§!.r..:'...§. Magazine
levelled a sharp critique of the book and the way i t
compromised Bradlee as a journalist (Taylor Branch, "The
Ben Bradlee Tapes: The Journalist as Flatterer," !1.?-I:[Link].:r.:.:...'2.
Magazine, October 1975) •
• Another side to constructions of celebrity and the
Kennedy assassination was the pathology of celebrity,
exemplified by Oswald's statement to a Dallas police
officer that "everybody will know who I am now" [quoted in
Frank Donner, "The Assassination Circus: Conspiracies
 357

Unlimited," IJ::!§! ....N. ~t..j,9.I!. 237 <12/22/79), p. 656]. Similarly,

in reference to Oswald.l smother, ~..§.~.§?.~_~_~15.. said II it was as
i£ she had been waiting all her 56 years £or this one
£loodlit moment o£ celebrity ("The Assassination: A Week
in the Sun," N§!"I¥_§'c!§!..~t. 2/24/64, p. 29). That side o£
celebrity, however, goes beyond the bounds o£ this
discussion.
~o Some of the best-kn~wn journalists who discussed
Kennedy's administration a£ter his death included T.;!,.!.'!.'?..:"...§.
Hugh Sidey, w..§..Ic'..§W§!§t.'...§ .. Benjamin Bradlee, and the n~.w...._Y.9_rk.
It!!!.§'..!?' Arthur Krock and Tom Wicker.
",. Gary Will s, Ih.§' ...K§'..":!I!..§'.9Y...._J..."lPE..1..§9.I!..!!!.§..":!.t.. ( New Yor k: Pocket
Books, 1982), p. 94.
"'" Harrison Salisbury, b_.I. !..ffi§!.....9.£.....gh.§. ":!9§!. (New York: Harper
and Row, 1988), p. 71.
:1. ~'i~ Ga y Tal ese , T..b:.§LJt~.I!.9.9~QJR.~"'§.!.1..9._~t.~h§. ._p ~~~F.:. (N 8W Y or k: 1970),
p. 505.
,... "The Fine Print," [Link]. (debut issue, November 1964), p.
5; Reprinted in ~P.Y.. (November 1989).
,."-' "The Times," ~p.Y. (debut issue, November 1964), p. 7;
Reprinted in ~.P..Y. (November 1989). The two veteran
reporters who were reportedly pushed aside by Wicker's
promotion were Max Frankel, who resigned and then
rescinded his resignation, and Anthony Lewis •
•• Gay Talese, 1970, p. 36 •
• '" "The Fine Print," 1964, p. 5.
t<, Gary Paul Gates, !:\":!'. Lt..:!'. !~.§. (New York: Harper and Row,
1978), p. 12.
,,"'0, !2.§92)& magazine (11/28/88), p. 70. See also Barbie
Zelizer, "~~hat's Rather Public About Dan Rather: TV
Journalism and the Emergence o£ Celebrity," [Link]£I!Sl. .±. . . . 9...f.
!"9"'p'.'d.'±'!'!.:r.._..[.1.1..!"_ .. §!g9 ...I .§.. b. .~.YJ,§.1..9..!l ( S u mm e r 1 989), P P . 74 - 80 , £ or
a more general discussion of Dan Rather as a contemporary
example o£ journalistic celebrity.
ao Gates, 1978, p. 293 .
•• The latter o£ these two activities possibly promoted a
similar action by Dan Rather in October 1989, when he
neglected to put on his suit jacket while anchoring CBS'
breaking story about the San Francisco earthquake. Whether
or not the action on Rather's part was intentional or
accidental, it seemed to suggest - to those who paid
attention - the ultimate sacri£ice to pro£essionalism, the
all-encompassing dedication £or conveying the late-
breaking story quickly.
",,," "What JFK Meant to Us," n§..Ic'..§.l:!. §el.i (Special 20th
Anniversary Issue entitled "Kennedy Remembered",
11/28/83), p. 56.
,",c, Barbara Matusow. I ..h.§L..!;.Y§!H.1.n.9.......2.t..§!..'!':.§.. ([Link]: Houghton
Mi££lin, 1983).
"",. I.y.. . ..G. y_t!"L~. (5/6/89), p. 27, p. 30.
 358

•• Gates, 1978, p. 6.
;:~~(.... .~"Qj~M£!..Ppp. 6 -7; p. 1 ~
"'" ,I9.g.9.b).§l.J,iIL~_12.Q.l,!yJ.§x......K§.!1.n!j).9'y.• In the movie, Jackie
Kennedy referred to vJhite as "one of the friendlies."
.,," Evan Thomas, "A Reporter in Search of History," :Lim.",.
(5/26/86), p. 62.
<c,'" Robert MacNei 1, quoted on (!gOQ..._N9X..nJ. J::l. 9 .._&.J.ll_"'!,_:l..S.i'!. (ABC
News, 11/22/88).
",,:, Wicker, quoted in ';TJ::!5.. :..._&_..I~_lIj.§'....R.§'!]l.§ml:!."'.r.:.§_Q. (11/21/88).
""" Gary Wills, I.h.§._K§J::l..n.§'.g..Y.._.I..[Link].E!,.4,.!?'.Q.m!!!~J::l_t. (New York: Poc)<et
Bo oks, 1982); Will i a m Ma nc h ester, Q.J::l.§_.._I?EJ§'.L~bJ.!1.i.!:!g ...U2.m§'.n.t.
(Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1983).
:."" Meg Greenfield, "The Way Things Really Were," !'L~':Y..'§.":!.§.§'.!5..
(11/28/88), p. 98.
""" A sampling of these included "25 Years Later," Special
Se ct ion , y' .., ..?"~_.J\j.§,.~.§....Sl.!lo;L.I!1.Q.£J,.>LR'ill..Q.r.:..t. (1 0 124/88); " Ken n ed y
Remembered," Special Anniversary Issue, !'L",~.§.",.§'.§'J.:;.
(11/28/83); "Ten Years Later: Where Were You?", !",.§qJ,L~E§,.
(November 1973); and Philip B. Kunhardt, Jr. (ed.). bJi.§'.
.t!1......9.§Jlt"'.!..QJ::.. (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, in
association with Time-Life Books, 1988).
34 This technique was favored by most popular media
forums, notably !",.§g.1L~.!'.§.. ["Ten Years Later: Where Were
You?", !",_~q~JL"'. (November 1973)] and PJ?..QP"!_"'. magazines
["November 22, 1963: Where We Were," People (Special
Secion, 11/28/88)]. Not surprisingly, these compilations
of recollections also included those tendered by
journalists.
:,"" These included the "25th Anniversary of Kennedy' s
Assassination," !'!J..9.i2:t:J._.:i..!1.§. (11/12/88); "Who Shot President
Kennedy?" !'!.[Link]., special episode coinciding with the 25th
ann i v er sar y (11/15/88); and 'U::.l<;..Jt§.§.1'!§_§J.n.1'!t.4,.2.!:!;"'_&![Link].
!:!.1'!£P'§,!:!§'.Q. (11/22/88), NBC's attempt to reproduce the exact
coverage of twenty-five years earlier .
•7"'8 I..h§_._W.[Link].:.§.n.....R.§,p_Qr.:.j::., CBS New s Doc u men t ar y ( 6/ 25/67 -
6/29/67); !':2..lJX_J2_§.¥.."'... _i.l}__ .!'!.Q'y_"'.m!2§£ (11/1 7 I 88); "Wh 0 Shot
President Kennedy?" !'!!2.Y.i'!., PBS Documentary (November 1988).
""7 ,;rE~; .. j!....[Link].§...._R.§..m.§m.l::).§';r.:§'.q (11/17/88).
",",) !'\.r.:.2S!.9S.i'!.§.t.i!19. (12/2/63), pp. 36-46.
'''""' LEJj:._&.§§.1'!.§§~..!1.§~Jg!1.:._J\§ ...;r.J::..... J:!.1'!Pl?.§'!1..§.g. (11 /22/88) •
Perpetuating "the club" of journalists «ho participated
also permeated semi-reconstructed events that were later
associated with the assassination~ as in writer James
Kirkwood's discussion o£ journalists covering the Garrison
investigation of New Orleans businessman Clay Shaw:
"The comaraderie of the (other reporters) was
immediately evident. Most, if not all, had covered
the preliminary hearing two years earlier and they
were like war correspodents. The hearing had been
their Korea and now they were once more gathering at
 359

the battleground for Vietnam. They were all seasoned

journalist-reporters" [James Kirkwood, l.\,.fIl.§'£.A-C;;.'il.!l
G..F.9"t"§'."""9.Y.§'. (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1968), p.
78] •
'+0 Richard L. Tobin, "If You Can Keep Your Head When All
Abou t You...," g1§.t..!!."F",L<!.Y .."R.§'y_!§'"". (12/14/ 63), P • 54 ; £9!~Q.:r.
§1l9.. E!'"Q.J.J"!e"Q.§'£. (1217 / 6 3), p. 44 •
.(.~:I. "'James Reston, II A.J~'tg . .J;My'§J]..!.n"9..__~.§5i.~. (7/31/87).
"."" Barbara Gamarekian, "Hundreds Are in Capital for 25th
Rem em br a n ce, .. N.§[Link].....Y_Q"l.:.!:L"T..!.fIl"§'§. (11/22 I 88) •
'+~) YP.I""R.§'p.9£:!;:._§l£. (11 128/63); LO_l!£._Q"'il..y''''.._:::"."."It>_~ . l:!.!""tQF..:i,£"'il..:I,
R.§,£"Q~(L ..9.f.""J?":r.§."".:i,.9§,!lt"...~.§.m~"", d Y:.."'2."..R.§l3'!.t.h. ( UP I, pub l i she din
ass oc i at ion wit h A.!l.:!.§.;':.4-_gM~}1...JI§';F._.t:l;;.~.g'§M...J1~. g.~~)~J:']...§l., Jan ua r y
1964).
,+", Letter quoted in ~9J..tQ.:r"". 3'!.!:!"'Lj?u.l.?..U"§.h""'£ (11/30/63), p. 8 •
•,.", Jack Bell, [Link]'.._TQ£9.h"."J""LE§"",,§."'S!. (Associated Press, in
association with Western Publishing Company, December
1963) •
.(.~ G. [Link] e Re porter s ' Story, II QQ.!.h\.m..Q.i.§......J.g.h\.£n.§. .!A:..§..ITt__.BJ2.Y....; ..§.~.
(Winter 1964) •
•• 7 Wicker, "That Day in Dallas," [Link]."'-"'. .....I.'il.l. !>. (December
1963)
"" Tom Wicker, "A Reporter Must Trust His Instinct,"
3."§"tY:r..9!'!.L..R.§'"Y..!'§J;I. (1 / 11/64) •
A·S~ IJ2..t9., p. 81.
"'0 Wicker, "Kennedy Without Tears," &"""..9'yJ.£"§. (June 1964).
,~,. John Berendt, "Ten Years Later: A Look at the Record,"
£§.[Link]."l.:.§'. (November 1973), p. 263.
"'" Wick er, K§nn§'.9Y"......~J. t.!}..Q1,!.t......I ..~.§":r"'!'" ( Ne,., Yo r k: Will i am Mor row
and Company, 1964); Wicker, "Kennedy Without Tears,"
reprinted in £"""!lyJ..:r.§" (October 1973) •
• ~ Wicker (1973), p. 196.
-- Wicker (1964), p. 63 •
...., Philip B. Kunhardt Jr, b . t:f"",".....;LD"..."Ca..fIl. §1..9.t. (New York: Time-
Life Books, 1988), pp. 295-7.
"'''' Theodore White, "Camelot, Sad Camelot," [Link].§'. (7/3/78),
pp. 46-7. Even non Time-Life publications referenced
"Theodore H. White's poignant 'Camelot' epilogue in bJ..f.§'."
[See .. The B 1 a ck Hor s e ," I..§..t§..Y..!.§. [Link]."--';;L'd"a..:rJ:;.§Ely. (W inter
1964), p. 85].
~7 The series, titled "The Kennedy Assassination: Myth and
Reality," aired in November of 1983 on CBS.
~'" Rather, quoted in LQ!'":r...."R.§l..Y~LJD".N.Q..Y"§'fIl!?§.:r (11/17/88).
"'"'' Sand y Grad y, " JFK: A Look Bac k ," P..l}JJ&9.§.,:i"p"h.:!,.!'!....".R.§J..lY
N§~.§. (11/22/88), p. 5.
'.',0 C h et Hun tIe y and Da v i d Br ink 1 ey, !:!.l!n~,:i,,§.Y."::.J2.E"!nl>J..§.Y.
R,,,,,..P.9.:r:!;:.", NBC News (11/22/63).
"." Ike Pappas, quoted in Qn_."T£...t§J,".;.....b"~~.!:!.'il..F"Y§'Y..Q.§~~.§J&
(11/22/88).
 360

~,'" "Hi gh Pro£ i 1 e: Ike Pappas," PJ'.t.±.9.£§'J,.J?J,;i,.§.... In.9],l;i,1':§E.

!:!.§.9.§.;<;J. !:!.§. (9/10/89), p. 8. Pappas was described as having
begun his career as "a UPI crime reporter at age 19 who
eventually witnessed 'the crime o£ the century' while
standing £ive £eet £rom Jack Ruby when he shot Lee Harvey
Oswald".
""" Hugh Sidey, "A Shattering A£ternoon in Dallas," :Ltlll.§.
(11/28/88), p. 45.
(±',":r- Rather, quoted in fg..1!.±._._p."~..Y..§..._.!.rLJ~.Q.Y_'§mJ2.§:.!.:.,. CBS News
(11/17/88).
""" Steve Be 11, KY..I&. __I;.y_§\i.i...tn.§_"'."'....N..§~.§. (11 I 22/88) •
Go'" Tom Wicker, "Kennedy Without End, Amen," g!?g],l;i,£§. (June
1977), p. 65.
<;'7 Tom Wicker, "Lyndon Johnson and the Ghost o£ Jack
Kennedy," g§.g],lj,X.§. (November, 1965, p. 152. Wicker quoted
£our long graphs £rom the piece .
•• Gates, 1978, p. 169.
E." "The Fine Print," [Link]. magazine, 1964.
'reI !?:!,..Q.~.9J~.~.§Lt.!_I]."g. magazine (12/2/63), p .. 46.
7':1. Nora Ephron, "Twelve Years on the Assassination Beat, II

g§.m>.J..!:§. 85 (February 1976), p. 60.

7'" David Welsh and William Turner, "In the Shadow o£
Dallas," Bamp~Lt..'2. (/25/69), p. 63.
'7'" Gera 1 do Ri vera, quoted in 9.D.....I.:r..i.§.!. ;.....!".§.§......!:l9..:r.y..§.Y.....QS".1.9..!9.,
(11/22/88).
'7" "Reporter Engage," N.§.".1.§.",.§.§J<;. (2/23/63), p. 70.
'7 '" J a c k Ander son , W.!:!.!? ....!:!.!!F.9.§£§.9....,;[Link] ...l',m§.:r..i...9.§n .. g"p!?.§.§., Sab a n
Productions (11/2/88).
7 . Braudy, 1986. p. 585.
 361

CHAPTER NINE

THE AUTHORITY OF THE ORGANIZATION AND INSTITUTION:

RECOLLECTING THROUGH PROFESSIONAL LORE

There were memory systems other than celebrity which

offered journalists alternate ways of effectively and

advantageously promoting their part in the assassination

story Over time. One such system is professional lore, or

the institutionalized body of knowledge that journalists

and news organizations systematically circulate amongst

and about themselves. Professional lore gives journalists

a cohesive memory system by which to institutionally

perpetuate certain perspectives on their actions. In

recollecting assassination coverage, pro£essional lore has

offered journalists a set of texts, discourses and

practices that allows them to tailor their assassination

memories into a celebration of their own professionalism.

Perpetuating this lore plays a central role in keeping

journalists, as an interpretive community, together.

In the following pages, I discuss how assassination

retellings have been perpetuated through the professional

lore of the journalistic community. Three major themes

figure in this lore: Tales of the novice, technological

aids to professional memory and the authorization of

television technology. Assassination narratives have been

systematically re-used in both organizational and

 362

institutional contexts in ways which uphold these

themes.

IJig!tg~ __QLPBQfg_~~±Ql'!!!1J~li
The relevance of professionalism for establishing

journalistic authority was already suggested in the days

immediately following the assassination, when the events

of covering Kennedy's death were systematically turned

into a story of professional triumph. The fact that this

transformation figured so directly within immediate

recountings o£ assassination coverage made an emphasis on

its professional aspects central to the eventual formation

of collective notions about journalism. This set up a

framework by which the incorporation of assassination

tales within organizational and institutional overviews

about journalism as a profession and~ more speci£ically~

overviews about the technology of television news would

make sense. How assassination tales have been accomodated

within professional lore reveals much about the authority

they are construed as giving journalists and the

journalistic community.

Professional lore gives journalists and news

organizations an elaborate set of cues about the

appropriate standards of journalistic practice and, by

implication, authority. While its function has been

debated by journalism scholars, who hold that it serves

 363

less to key journalists into pro£essional behavior than

members o£ other professions~, its particular relevance

here derives from its function as a memory system. As a

memory system, professional lore o££ers journalists an

alternative to perpetuating tales o£ the individual,

suggested by tales o£ celebrity. It o££ers them instead a

way to perpetuate tales o£ the news organization and

institution" linking them through assassination tales to

collective notions about professionalism and professional

lore. Pro£essional lore in this sense serves as a tool of

socialization, which circulates collective notions about

practice and authority to members o£ the journalistic

community ..

Like other memory systems, pro£essional lore also

works by a substitutional rule, "plugging" alternate news

organizations, news institutions and journalistic

practices within communal lore: It suggests that what CBS

did today, NBC could do tomorrow. Just as the individual

reporter was rendered the pivotal point o£ tales o£

celebrity, in tales o£ pro£essional lore the news

organization and institution are positioned as points

through which larger discourses about journalism criss-

cross with discourses about covering Kennedy's death. The

organization and institution constitute the loci by which

 364

discourses about television journalism or journalistic

professionalism are linked with assassination retellings.

In retelling the assassination story over time, only

certain dimensions o£ professionalism have been sustained

as part of the professional lore. Narratives that attest

to the viability of certain news organizations, the

journalistic profession or the attributes of television

ne!,.JS have bolstered larger discourses about the viability

of journalism in strategic ways, by using an array of

organizational and institutional issues as their loci~

Equally important, professional lore blurs time spans

in a way that bears little respect for ·temporal

modification: One reporter relates her involvement in the

assassination story ten years later in much the same way

that another narrates his tale a quarter-decade after the

event .. Neither case addresses or problematizes the passage

of time within their narratives .. This co-opting of

professional lore .oi thin larger contemporary discourses

about journalism, conceived and penned at different points

in time from that of the assassination itself, conceals

the fact that these narratives reflect the words of the

contemporary - and successful - professional looking back.

Selecting the assassination story as a locus through which

to illustrate professional codes and practices thus gives

pro£essional lore the air of a backward-looking discourse,

 365

a self-retrospective that systematically glorifies certain

points within its own history from the vantage points of

those who can afford to look back. Lost in the shuffle is

the perpetuation of any critical perspective on the

original journalistic coverage of Kennedy's death. What

remains are clear-cut messages about professionalism that

have effectively helped journalists perpetuate themselves

as an authoritative interpretive community.

In one \rJay or another, all professions have

tradiionally maintained themselves through their origin

narratives .. Origin narratives give members of groups

collective ways of referencing themselves and their shared

heritage, tradition and values r.-:;: They constitute an

important part of professional lore, setting in place the

parameters of successful entry into the profession. At the

same time, pro£essional lore constitutes one viable locus

for origin narratives to £lourish. There£ore, origin

narratives help maintain lore at the same time as lore

upholds the status of origin narratives: Each new tale

about the successful adaptation OI novice members into a

community upholds the status of the lore that records it.

Tales of professional acclimatization are thus central to

the lore's ability to function as a memory system. They

tell the story of untried individuals making their way

 366

into the professional community, attesting to the worth of

the profession and, by implication, the professional lore

that records its impulses.

Assassination narratives have been used by

journalists to generate an extensive set of tales of

acclimatization. The route by which naive and unknowing

novices make their \-Jay into the inroads of the

journalistic profession has been anchored by many

journalists within coverage of Kennedy's death. Their

tales legitimate the professional journalist at the same

time as they uphold the displacement of the amateur. The

implication that journalists need to view the

assassination as a locus for the onset of professional

behavior - has encouraged them to generate tales of the

novice within professional lore about it.

One example was provided by reporter Meg Greenfield,

who wrote a commemorative piece about the assassination

for I.j,..m.~. magazine 25 years later. Entitled "The Way Things

Really Were," the article traced Greenfield's professional

identity back to the day that Kennedy was killed. It was,

she said, the day that she began to think and act like a

journalist:

I date everything back to November 22, 1963, so

far as my adult working life is concerned ..• What
I experienced that day, for the first time, was
our peculiar immunity as a trade. We became
immune by a crush of duty ••. allowed, even
expected to function outside the restraints of
 367

ordinary decent behavior. We had a job to do.

Our license was all but total 3 .

Recalling the detached and disembodied "high-octane state"

into which she and her colleagues were thrust by Kennedy's

death, Greenfield detailed the high-paced frenzy which

pushed them into action and )<ept them there. Her tale

recounted the displacement of emotion, the intrusive

nature of journalistic work and the semblance of

indifference that characterized journalists' activities of

those four days.

Similarly, Barbara Walters recalled her own past as a

wr iter on th e I293!Y......:::l.h2,O!., where she heard the news that

Kennedy had been shot:

That next Honday, I had one of my first on-the-

air assignments, reporting on the funeral of
President John F. Kennedy, and being still a
novice, I wondered how I could possibly manage
to keep the tears out of my voice 4

The fact that she did so, and did so well, is implicit in

her ability to recount that particular performance from a

well-regarded contemporary position within the ranks of

television news personalities. Her ability to ascend

beyond the anxieties of a first-time broadcast qualifies

her as a capable television journalist.

Even former anchorperson Jessica Savitch, then a high

School student anxious to break into journalism, was

construed as having reacted I'with a curious mixture of

personal horror and professional excitement .. :

 368

As soon as she heard the news, she raced to a

pay phone and called in a report to WOND on the
reactions of Atlantic City high school students.
Jessica and Jeff Greenhawt thought of trying to
do a special edition of I.§§m ......9gETI.§.E., but in the
end they were overtaken by the dimensions of the
event. The show was canceled 5

Although not yet employed as a reporter, Savitch already

displayed the proper attributes of being a journalist-

the intensity, drive and motivation, ingenuity.

Dan Rather offered yet another tale of the novice. In

his autobiography, n~.§.....r::::~.m.§'E!!l ..J':!.§.Y..§l£....J?'Jj,.t.:!l5.§., Rather related

how~ on the day that Kennedy was shot, he had been sent to

Dallas in "what had been intended as a backup role" (c:"

Attempting to verify the fact of Kennedy's death by

telephone, at one point he was simultaneously talking to

both local reporter Eddie Barker in Dallas and his New

York office on different lines. Rather's recounting of the

ensuing incident went as follows:

In one of my ears, Barker was repeating what the

Parkland Hospital official had told him at the
Trade Mart. I was trying to watch and listen to
many things at once. My mind was racing, trying
to clear, trying to hold steady, trying to think
ahead. When Barker said again that he had been
told the President was dead, I said "Yes, yes.
That's what I hear too. That he's dead." A voice
came back, "What was that?" I thought it was
Barker again. It waen It. The "what was that .. had
come from a radio editor in New York ...• At that
point I heard what my mind then recognized
clearly as someone in New York announce, '"Dan
Rather says the President is dead ...... I began
shouting into the phone to New York, shouting
that I had not authorized any bulletin or any
other kind of report. Confusion burst anew. I
was told that I had said not once but twice that
 369

Kennedy was dead. Now it came through to Jfte:

Those weren't Barker's questions I had been
answering ?

Rather recalled contemplating the possible repercussions

of what he had done, saying that '"it [Link] on me that it

was possible I had committed a blunder beyond

comprehension, beyond forgiving'" ". Because it took a full

half-hour before official con:firmation of Kennedy's death

came through, the tensions of that time-span struck him in

full. He knew '"that if the story was wrong, I would be

seeking another line of work" 'i• • The fact that Rather was

right, though shaken, has helped to rank him among the

qualified professional journalists who covered the

assassination storya

Implicit in each narrative is a regard for the

assassination as a professional trial ground by which the

journalistic acumen o:f the untried reporter is tested.

Interestingly, tales of the novice uphold the known

dimensions of journalistic practice: Unlike {!lalter

Cronkite, who cried on air, or the various reporters who

recast notions of professional practice in order to

provide coverage, tales of the novice play directly into

accepted and recognized standards of action. Journalists

emerge as part of the community for having proven

themselves within already-defined parameters of

journalistic practice and professionalism.

 370

Tales of the novice thus relay the story of

professional transformation. In each case, reporters are

transformed by their coverage of the story, emerging on

the other side as individuals with professional

reportorial experience of the first order. This makes the

assassination story a locus bearing fruitful implications

for more general discourses about journalism, journalistic

professionalism and the legitimation of television news~

As Rather concluded in his story, "if that weekend, beyond

the trauma, became a shared experience in journalism, it

was because without exception those called on responded so

well to the pressure ~O. In other words, the novice's

ability to respond effectively to the circumstances of

Kennedy's death is instrumental in upholding the

appearance of journalistic professionalism that has come

to be associated with the event.

Greenfield made a similar point in her narrative,

which by its end had set her, too, within the solid ranks

of veteran reporters. In concluding, she called the

ongoing efforts to [Link] Kennedy's death

"anniversary journalism'· . The title is apt, for it

sugges·t.s the importance of journalists' positioning

themselves within their assassination tales. Because tales

o£ the novice recount the trans£ormation o£ largely

untried cub reporters into hard-nosed journalists,

 371

recalling the events of Kennedy's death becomes a way of

marking this transformation within professional lore.

Recalling the "way things really were" becomes important

within ongoing definitions about what it means to be a

professional journalist. Tales of the novice are thus less

instrumental for what they suggest about the personal

career trajectories of individual reporters and more

important for what they suggest about journalistic

professionalism. This suggests that professional lore

constitutes an important dimension by which journalists

consolidate themselves as an interpretive community.

TQQ!,·_::?'_.9_E_Ig9!'!JIl_Qb,gGY_A~_{L:u?e__ Qf_R.BQn:2_::?19J~~'=-11gM9JE

A second theme central to professional lore is

technology. Professional lore is filled with tales of the

technologies that journalists employ in their work as

reporters. While this has traditionally comprised a large

dimension of discourse about journalistic professionalism

:I. :t
, in retelling the assassination it allows journalists

to link their tales with viable ongoing discussions about

the legitimacy of television technology and television

nevJs.

This rfteans that assassination tales have been

refracted in professional lore by the technologies which

facilitate their perpetuation. For example, the irony of

the fact that journalists have been called upon to recall

 372

activities of decades earlier in order to generate

contemporary appraisals of the profession has been

mitigated by technology. Journalists readily admit to the

vagaries and inconsistencies of human memory, citing

faulty recall of that weekend's particulars :1. ;;;~

Many

mention aids which they found helpful in perpetuating

memory, admitting that they used certain tools of

technology to keep their assassination tales fresh.

Technology is thus invoked as a means of maintaining

their position as authorized retellers of the

assassination story. Although they differ according to the

media where reporters work, the presence of tools of

assistance within professional lore suggests that to some

extent journalists enmesh the formation of their own

professional identities with the technologies they use.

Journalists' professional memories have thus been

construed as depending on the tools of technology they

employed in perpetuating assassination tales .. They see

themselves as more professional for having used them.

The early tales by which journalists recount their

part in covering the assassination foregrounded the

importance of technology as part of professional lore.

Tales of triumph - where reporters hailed themselves for

having been .. the first," .. the best .. and .. the only" in

Covering Kennedy's death - set up the kind of context that

 373

allowed them over time to celebrate their professionalism

in conjunction with technology. Immediately after the

assassination, in an early de£ense o£ television, one

journalist claimed to use the camera like a newspaper

reporter uses his pad and pencil This suggests that

already then, reporters were attending to the

reconfiguration of practices which technologies of all

kinds offer their users.

One tool mentioned frequently by reporters

recollecting their assassination coverage in pro£essional

lore is the practice of note-taking. In both print and

televised media, journalists have recounted at length how

they took copious notes of events. Note-taking is seen as

stabilizing memory. The fact that they set down on paper

what they had seen or heard has made their recollections

valid.

One television item bore this out particularly well.

Reporter Steve Bell, called upon in 1988 to anchor a local

news station's version of the assassination anniversary,

did so by incorporating a repeat broadcast of his original

coverage of Kennedy's death. As Bell recalled that "\[Link]

were on a round-the-clock vigil for in£ormation, and

Police Chief Jesse Curry was the primary source of

in£ormation," the picture of Curry faded to one of Bell

taking notes years before in Dallas The semic·tic

 374

message conveyed by his note-taking was its ability to

authorize him 25 years later to speak about the

assassination.

Another example was provided by

reporter Harrison Salisburyp who organized his newspaper's

coverage as editor in New York. In an empassioned

chronology of his career as a reporter~ Salisbury

recollected the role of notes in setting down his memories

of the assassination:

On November 27, 1963, five days after Kennedy

was killed, the first moment I had time and
strength to put down what I felt, I wrote a
memorandum to myself. I said that in the year
2000 the Kennedy assassination would still be a
matter of debate, new theories being evolved how
and why it happened 'B.

Referring back to his notes as a viable recording of

events stabilized memories. Salisbury proceeded to quote

from the memorandum he had penned two and a half decades

earlier. But rather than link it with personalized

discourse about himself as a journalist, he used it to

reference an already existent lore about journalistic

professionalism:

I had concluded before going to work for the

in 1949 that the essence of journalism "as
Ii.~§!.§.
reporting and writing. I wanted to find things
out - particularly things which no one else had
managed to dig aut - and let people have the
best possible evidence on which to make up their
minds about policy'·
 375

Taking notes thereby linked Salisbury with professional

lore, allowing him to cast himself as "more pro£essional"

for having decided to take notes. This implied an interest

in posterity, perhaps history, and at the very least a

recognition that note-taking facilitates accuracy and

stabilizes memory.

This was also displayed in the recollections of !'L"'_'!1.

yg;:.!i. _I.!Ji\_<Ee.:!?_ reporter Tom Wicker, who noted how he

had chosen that day to be without a notebook. I
took notes on the back of my mimeographed
schedule of the two-day tour of Texas we had
been so near to concluding. Today, I cannot read
many of the notes; on November 22, they were as
clear as sixty-point type '7.

Two years later, he recounted how

I sat in a stuffy, cramped room in the Baker

Hotel in Dallas on the morning of November 23,
when the great plane had borne its burden of
mortality back to Washington, and the fact of
death was palpable and tearful in every heart,
and Lee Harvey Oswald was snarling his tiny
pathetic defiance a few blocks away in the
Dallas jail. I wrote that morning what I thought
about the way things were, and would be ' •.

Wicker's continued references to his attempts to write

down what he saw signified his efforts to stabilize

memory. The technology of note-taking gave him a helpful

tool to set down his presence as a professional at the

site of Kennedy's death. Note-taking offered a

particularly visible accoutrement of journalistic

profeSSionalism a
 376

Failure to take notes worked to the disadvantage of

other reporters. \~3". §.h..~.pg.:t:'.Qn........P.Q.§.t. edi tor Benj amin Bradlee,

for instance,.

twelve years after the President's death with the premise

that he had not kept regular notes of his meetings with

the former President, but could unbelievably "still quote

verbatim whole chunks of conversations with him"

Reporter Jean Daniel, the foreign editor of the French

of interviews with Fidel Castro and John Kennedy shortly

before Kennedy's death. \~hen Daniel contended that both

men had said they shared a belief in American capitalism

and Cuban communism, he was discredited because

else was present, and Daniel,. by his own account, took no

notes" ;~;:o His zeal was held to have .. outperformed his

memory," a statement suggesting that his failure to take

notes had cast him as unprofessional.

Another tool mentioned in professional lore is

photographic technology. References to the filmed and

photographiC sequencing of the events of Kennedy's death

have been scattered across media accounts. For example,.

CBS' d ocu men ta r y E.Q:\!.l':..........R.§..Y.§....j_.IL.J!I.Q.Y.§'.r~R.§'.!:. inc or par a t ed s t i l l

photographs, particularly of Oswald being shot, within its

filmed footage . ' . Elsewhere, Edwin Newman recalled how:

Americans went to sleep with images of

assassination spinning in their heads. It all
 377

seemed some horrible dream from which we would

awaken. But it wasn't. We would awaken to more
and more images, images that would become
forever burned in our memories. We remember
Jacqueline Kennedy. her dress stained with her
husband's blood, standing beside LBJ as he took
the oath of office. We remember her, kneeling
with her daughter to kiss the flag-draped
casket. We remember a little boy salute to his
father. We remember the riderless horse
Blackjack '''''''.

Repeated references to assassination images have made the

image-making technology a relevant tool in circumscribing

memory.

Photographic and filmic technology have become

central to professional lore, largely because photographs

and films give journalists a way of going back and

retelling their role in the assassination in certain

strategic ways. It was suggested earlier that at the time

of the assassination journalists readily adopted the

sequencing supplied them by television technology: The

assassination narrative was transformed into one long

story that stretched over four days of seemingly

continuous happenings rather than maintained as piecemeal

accounts of discrete moments of coverage. This has

appeared in memory as well, making journalism

professionals across media dependent on television

technology for their definitions of professional behavior.

By barrowing the technology used by journalists in one

medium,. reporters in other media have thus in effect

 378

became second-class tellers of the lore surrounding the

assassination narrative.

This suggests that implicit in the tales by which

journalists have sought to promote themselves as

professionals for having covered Kennedy's deat.h is a

recognition that professionalism depends to some degree on

technology and reporters' effective use of it. The fact

that journalists aspire to a regard for technology as a

tool of assistance is interesting, for in consolidating

themselves as a professional community journalists have

emphasized the unique access generated by their unique

tools. Their discussions, in other words, have not

stressed the collective skills as journalists, per se. Yet

the reporters' ability to position themselves around

technologies is held up as a reflection of their

professionalism across media. It is used to bolster their

collective memory of the event, much like it was used to

bolster professionalism at the time of the assassination.

The incorporation of assassination tales within

professional lore has not only emerged through individual

tales about upholding pro£essional behavior through

technology. In much the same way that tales of

journalistic celebrity succeed due to the extensive

recycling patterns by which they are circulated, so too

 379

has the pro£essional lore o£ journalists depended on such

loreJ's re-usage~ Re-using assassination tales is

particularly enlightening £or what it reveals about the

collective body o£ knowledge by which the journalistic

community perpetuates itsel£. How a narrative makes

way from one context to others reveals much about the

patterns o£ individual and collective legitimation by

which that community solidi£ies its position in public

discourse.

Here again, tales become central parts o£ collective

lore through reprintings and retrospectives. They

emphasize the organizations or institutions where

individuals work, focusing attention on the organizations

that produce the tales being re-used. Pro£essional lore is

thus in part motivated by an organization's own decision

to circulate its tales. For example, in the press

journalists have reprinted original assassination tales

through special issues o£ magazines, journals and

newspapers, special sections within those same journals,

and entire commemorative volumes .. This pattern was

exempli£ied by !".;i,..~§!:_g,. magazine's twenty-:fi£th anniversary

issue which reprinted its original memorial edition: An

outer-Iea£ was a££ixed to the original edition, bearing a

picture o:f the cover published a quarter-century earlier

and the word "reprint'" slashed diagonally across it. The

 380

outer-leaf proclaimed that IIwe recall him 25 years later

with this historic issue," and a brier insert went as

follows:

The first copies of this magazine, published two

weeks after John F. Kennedy's killing, sold out
immediately as a grieving America, seeking a
memoir of its sadness, turned to h.;,.J..§.••• \~e
believe this account to be richer than any
anniversary review could be. So we have
reprinted our original for the 100 million
Americans who are too young to remember - and
for those too old to forget - the assassination
of a President .a

Other than these alterations, and a raised price (from

$.50 to $3.95), the edition was reprinted exactly as i t

had been issued 25 years earlier. Similar patterns were

found in books and in-house journals.

Organizational re-usage has also recirculated

assassination photographs, which perhaps constitute the

most systematically reprinted part of assassination lore:

Shots of LBJ being sworn in as President, of Jackie

Kennedy close to her husband's casket, of Oswald crumpling

under a murdererls bullet, of Caroline touching her

rather's co££in were replayed in newspapers, magazines,

journals and commemorative volumes about the slain

President. A commemorative volume by Time-Life books,

entitled concluded with two pictures

taken from the assassination and pre-assassination

coverage - one of John-John saluting his father's casket;

 381

the other of Kennedy walking on the sand dunes near

Hyannis Port. The inscription read:

This is how bJfg ended its special JFK memorial

following the assassination .. In this retelling
of Camelot so many years later, it still seems
fitting to let these two pictures close the
story r.~~~~
.
Many of these pictures had appeared 25 years earlier in

magazine 25, etched into collective memory by earlier

institutional efforts. Re£erences were again made by

parent companies, wi th [9.'1::.10.",.,,"-, magazine endorsing the

photographs in the following fashion:

In the November bJ. f.". are some of the most

vividly famous photographs of the instant and
stunning aftermath (of Kennedy's death) ... the
First Lady in her blood-soaked pink suit
standing by as Lyndon Johnson is sworn in as
President on Air Force One ..• the coffin being
lowered from the plane for the dead President's
last White House sojourn •.. John-John saluting
the coffin. De Gaulle, towering, as they walk
behind the caisson to Arlington •••

The special commemorative volume also featured many

pictures of photographers who had photographed Kennedy

Televised tales have been circulated within

professional lore through the modicum of television

retrospectives. In this case, retrospectives '[Link]

forwarded as part of the lore of news organizations.

Often, they took on different names, allowing journalists

and organizations to profit a number of times from the

same footage. ABC, for instance, reused one basic

compilation of assassination coverage but titled it

 382

differently when

screened on the Arts and Entertainment Cable Network in

1988, and a t hr e e - par t set ca 11 ed Ih§!....W..§'§'.!:L....W.§'......12.§.:I::....!:i;.§'D.!1.§'.9Y.

when sold on the private market one year later ;;:::f::\

Although different narrators introduced the clippage, the

coverage it presented was nearly identical.

Film clips £rom assassination £ootage have also been

replayed in news programs, special documentaries and media

retrospectives: Sequences showed the funeral caisson, the

riderless horse, the processions o£ mourners, the murder

of Oswald. Photographs have been recycled: A special 1988

eight-part CBS series on the assassination was introduced

with a color montage of the eventls best-known

photographs, upholding the stature accorded photographs in

recollecting the story .-.

Coopting assassination narratives within other texts

has made re-usage patterns most explicit. \~here an

assassination narrative has been re-used by journalists

and news organizations is instrumental in determining its

importance. For example, the fact that the narrative about

Dan Rather in Dallas was promoted as part of CBS'

organizational lore reveals how important the story was to

CBS. The same narrative~s incorporation within ongoing

histories about television as a news medium re£lects its

importance to the emerging legitimacy of television

 383

journalism. Similarly~ incorporating the same narrative

within general overviews about news as a profession

suggests the tale's centrality to an understanding of news

at its most generalized level.

Thus where an assassination tale has been re-used

says much about the underlying patterns of authority

perpetuated by the journalistic community's pro£essional

lore. The effectiveness of professional lore in upholding

assassination retellings is found in the reusage of

assassination tales in milieux other than those in which

they were originally intended. This directly upholds the

consolidation of journalists into an interpretive

community~ by displaying how its communal lore depends on

the continuous recirculation of narratives that celebrate

journalistic professionalism.

l Journalists

assassination
and

narratives
news-organizations

in two main
have

groups
:ce-used

of

organizationally-bound texts overviews of specific news

organizations~ such as histories of CBS or I.):1!;:<__ H_§~!_....Y_9£.!s.

and the biographical and autobiographical

perspectives of individuals on professional life within

these news organizations. Both have been used to lend a

valorized past to organizations. Organizational overviews

 384

of both types have used the locus of the news organization

to recall what happened in 1963.

The most illustrative example of this kind of

discourse was found in one history of CBS News, Gary Paul

Gates' Gates' book began with a chapter

entitled "Kennedy' oS Been Shot "' that detailed how CBS

covered the assassination. The chapter's central placement

reflected the fact that the assassination constituted a

turning point in the organization's stature, ",i th

assassination coverage making CBS into a viable news

organization. In a semiotic sense, framing the book around

the assassination coverage thus highlights the role it

played in legitimating CBS News. Such a role was stressed

throughout the book. Like other accounts found in

professional lore,. Gates' recounting of the assassination

story was laced with praise for television technology. He

traced how CBS would be able to produce coverage like that

exhibited on Kennedy"'s death- the 1962 opening of three

new CBS bureaus, one in Dallas; expansion of network news

coverage from 15 minutes to 30; the addition of Telstar

and videotape. This contextualized CBS' successful

coverage of the story as a natural evolution grounded in

organizational decision-making. Its decision - not only to

accept technological and organizational advances but to

facilitate their incorporation within CBS - made it seem

 385

as i£ the assassination coverage was the result of

organizational foresight. This coopted the assassination

story within a larger discourse legitimating the news

organizations.

Similar stories were £eatured in professional lore

about NBC. One biography of former NBC anchorperson

Jessica Savitch detailed how NBC had set the scene for

television broadcast coverage of the assassination, when

executive Robert Kintner decided that NBC would yank all

programming, including commercials, after Kennedy was

shot. ··His competitors at CBS and ABC followed suit, but

NBC garnered the credit for public-spiritedness", went the

account :?a The same story was featured in other overviews

of NBC News ;"", suggesting that organizational decisions

at NBC had helped to make the assassination story into the

special-event coverage that it became. This supported

linkages between the assassination story and NBC's

prestige as a news organization 33.

In each case the assassination story has been used to

bolster the prestige of the organizational locus from

which the tale emerged. As one television retrospective

maintained,. Ilit was at times like these that a news

organization finds out how good it is, whether it can do

the hard jobs, ·the grim Pro£essional lore has

helped to perpetuate the critical nature of the event for

 386

most news organizations. Re-using organizational tales has

functioned much like the recycling of celebrity tales

discussed earlier: While recycling the celebrity tale

serves the individual journalists whose praises it sangp

by heightening and solidifying their personal stature, re-

usage of organizational tales serves the organization~ by

stressing the gains it garnered by covering Kennedy's

death.

At the same time, assassination narratives have been

[Link] extensively within institutional overviews,

including discussions about journalism as a pro£ession and

the evolution of television news. In each case,

assassination narratives have been coopted within more

general discourses that have helped create a valorized

past for the institutions and institutional concerns in

question.

One representative claim has held that television

news and the Kennedy assassination were ripe £or each

other. This claim's centrality in professional lore has

been borne out quantitatively: One comprehensive tome on

the evolution o£ television,

described coverage o£ the assassination in nearly

10 pages of text a pattern repeated elsewhere too.

 387

Mention of the Kennedy assassination is found in nearly

every institutional overview of the medium of television.

But the qualitative nuances of claims about the

loyalties of television and the Kennedy assassination have

been of more enduring significance. In a special issue

celebrating television's 50th birthday, Iy.. . . .G_Y_!.9§_ held that

the assassination story constituted a moment of crucial

importance for the medium. "From this moment on," claimed

the magazine, .. television becomes the primary source of

ne~vs £or Americans" b.J.£§:. magazine produced a special

feature about television, highlighted by pictures of both

Kennedy's funeral and Oswald'. shooting A CBS

documentary maintained that

America needed calming, and it happened because

television carried it all. Hour after hour, day
after day, from murder to burial, the flow of
images and pictures calmed the panic. Someone
has said that thoBe four days marked the corning
of the age of television 3e~

In account after account, the assassination retellers and

television were construed as having given each other

effective stages for collective legitimation.

This had to do in part with notions about time and space,

and how television played with them. It was a pivotal year

for television. Not only did more people say in 1963 that

they got more news from television than from newspapers,

 388

but the advent of the half-hour newscast intensified the

"bond of familiarity and dependence between anchor and

viewer" 39. Coverage of the Kennedy assassination was

construed as capping off what had become an advantageous

situation:

Television had already proved its ability to

cover large-scale events that were pre-planned,
but never before had i t attempted to keep up
with a fast-breaking, unanticipated story of
this magnitude ..• Remarked one executive at the
time, "I think we were frightened when we saw
our capability." In a medium not noted for its
dignity or restraint, the commentators and
reporters also per£ormed admirably, conscious
perhaps of their role in keeping the nation calm
and unified. What the networks lost in
commercial revenues during the four days !Plaa
more than compensated for by the good will
generated .• ~Television news had come of age 40.

This played directly into the hands of the newly-empowered

television networks.

In much the same way that organizational tales have

contextualized the assassination as the result of

organizational foresight, institutional tales have viewed

it as the consequence of institutional developments in

technology, political climate, and the social and cultural

legitimation of television. Television was seen as an

active player in the assassination drama. Through the

assassination it became

the central nervous system of society? an

instrument of perception and
feeling •.. Commentators and reporters tried to
fill the vacuum in our thoughts. Cameras
 389

searched for some meaning in the tangle of

Dallas, Washington and finally Arlington _a.

Historical overviews thereby have focused on the

relationship between then-current forms of professionalism

and technology, repeatedly mentioning the influence of the

medium of television on memories of Kennedy~s death:

until (Oswald's death), TV had been exclusively

a medium of fantasy, so that part of the shock
of Ruby's action was simply that i t was
real ..• Suddenly we understood television in an
entirely new way, in a manner that prepared us
for the many murders to come, for the 'living
room war' of Vietnam, for the constitutional
lessons of Watergate, and finally, monotonously,
for the local murders of the ten o'clock news

In another's view,

On that day, American television changed

forever ••. Unlike the day Kennedy died, (when)
the networks had been poor cousins to radio and
ne",spaper ... the assassination created a new
hunger for TV news, and almost overnight, made
television the pre-eminent medium for
information "~':;,'l

Thus the assassination has been contextualized as one of

the first circumstances where journalists showed they were

capable of acting in a way demanded of them by television

technology. This has made the authorization of television

a central part of professional lore about the

assassination. Attempts to incorporate the assassination

narrative within larger discourses about professionalism

and ·technology have directly upheld television"'s

legitimation.
 390

The changing configurations of space and time that

figured within these notions have been £eatured in

professional lore. For example, a special 1989 issue of

P.§'92.~~ magazine about television~s £iftieth anniversary

introduced a section entitled "Unforgettable Images" with

"collapsing time and distance, TV created instant history

and hurled it at light-speed into our homes and memories"

44 The same section used three pictures - of the Kennedy-

Nixon debates in 1960, Kennedy's funeral cortege and

Oswald being shot - to illustrate TV news' coming of age.

It happened

by confronting the unspeakable tragedy of life.

The eyes of (\lalter Cronkite swelled with tears
when he heard from a young Dan Rather that
President Kennedy was dead. Tom Pettit's voice
filled with horrifed excitement as he broadcast
TV's first on-air murder of Lee Harvey Oswald,
on NBC. The world sat in on these extraordinary
events through the marvels of communication
satellites that could usually and instantly
united the globe 4m

Implicit in these cornmen ts v.18S a recognition that

television had changed the forms by which the American

public would remember its events. It solidified its status

as "a collective re£erence point"· and shaper o£ American

memories 46. It was not only, as one analyst observed,

that by bringing the assassination and its ",ftermath

"vividly into the national consciollsnessD .. £ar more

graphically than the printed page, the video screen (has)

depicted some of the most unforgettable scenes in recent

 391

history" It was also that it has made certain

diJftensions of those scenes available for collective

perpetuation .. Collective perpetuation fit well into

journalists' attempts to uphold collective notions about

themselves, upholding the ritual dimensions of

assassination retellings, and the ongoing patterns of

community and authority by which journalists are

consolidated as an interpretive community.

Yet the

emphasis on television technology as an institutional

issue of concern to journalists has not erased

consideration of the reporter's individual relationship to

technology. Technologies have remained "peopled" in

professional lore. In narrating the 1988 CBS documentary

E.Q.~1':........J.!.~.Y§.... J_!,__.....!'!9-Y.§.ffiP..§E, Dan Rather cautioned v iewers that

they were about to watch a

hastily-prepared biography CBS News broadcast

that weekend. Tapes and films were rushed from
our vaults, and my colleague Harry Reasoner
improvised from notes 49

A 1988 Associated Press dispatch relayed the earlier

performance of NBC correspondent Bill Ryan with the

following account:

It was Ryan who read the AP flash that Kennedy

was dead.
"It's jarring when somebody comes up to you and
says, 'You're the one who told me President
Kennedy was dead," " Ryan said.
 392

What Ryan, McGee, Huntley, David Brinkley and

millions of others couuldn't know was that on
that day, American television changed forever

The article recounted the difficulties and circumstances

of technical naivete which Ryan was expected to overcome

in covering the story. "We didn't even have a regular news

studio,," he said, observing that "it wasn't like today,

where you could punch up the whole world by satellite in a

minute and a half" ~O.

Implicit in both accounts were references to the

improvements of television technology since the days of

the assassination. Yet also implicit was the admission

that even without the sophisticated equipment of

contemporary television, television journalists played

their trade well in covering Kennedy. Stories about the

legitimation of journalists as professionals were thus

for<oarded in conjunction with, but not dependent on,

stories about television technology.

It is perhaps in such a light that in the same CBS

broadcast, Rather chose to introduce the program with a

detailed overview of the state of television technology at

the time of the assassination:

In 1963, television news was broadcast in black

and white. Lightweight portable tape equipment
did not exist. Our signals moved mostly by
hardwire or microwave relay. In some film clips
which £ollow~ you will see watermarks, looking
like rain on the screen. The film had no chance
 393

to dry out. It was broadcast from wet stock. But

the message went out across the country ~1

The embedded message suggests the triumph of reporters

over what was then an undeveloped technology. \vhen

separated £rom the visuals which documented the story of

Kennedy's death, Rather's words told the story not only of

Kennedy but of the evolution of television, on one hand,

and the triumph o£ the reporter in such an evolution, on

the other. These issues have been central to the

consolidation o£ journalists as an interpretive community

that authenticates itself through its narratives.

This does not

suggest that other technologies have not been similarly

woven within the story of Kennedy's death. Overviews about

photojournalism, for example~ have lauded the

assassination story's photographic £ootage. A special I..~.Jf.!.§:.

survey of 150 years of photojournalism included the Oswald

shooting as one of the ten greatest images in the history

of photojournalism 5_. Another essay in that same issue

noted that in 1963 "as historical events darkened,

photojournalism regained some of its tragic power ... A

Dallas I.:i,. !!\."..?_=l:I".~-':t:J,. g. photographer caught the instant of Lee

Harvey Oswald's death" """.

Yet the professional claims o£ photojournalists to

the story of Kennedy's death have become secondary to

 394

those voiced by television journalists. As the same essay

went on to say~ the fact that television caught the

moment of Oswald's death prompted photojournalists to ask

whether ·'picture taking~ no longer history's first

witness, (would) ever again be more than stenography?"

The systematic and repeated incorporation of the

assassination narrative within institutional overvie'w's

about journalism professionalism and the onset 0:£

television news has suggested that it would not. The

fervor with which organizational and institutional memory

has made television technology a given in recountings o£

the assassination story has left little space for contrary

claims about the professionalization of other groups.

Radio has seen a similar fate. While most people told

of receiving their first accounts of Kennedy's death from

radio ~ •• many had turned to television by the time the

assassination weekend was over, a point suggesting that

radio fulfilled an important but transient function. The

fact that references to its role have more or less

disappeared from collective memory about the assassination

is connected with larger discourses about television

technology that ensued in the interim. Linking memories of

the assassination with organizational and institutional

efforts to reference television's glorious past via the

assassination story suggests that little room has remained

 395

for radio practitioners to make similar attempts at

valorization. This perhaps explains .]hy even in

professional lore, the role of radio has been thinly woven

into institutionally-bounded narratives about the

[Link]~ In a sense, it became a local medium next

to the nationalization of television. Similar arguments

can be advanced about the disappearance of discourse about

local media.

Thus the assassination story has been systematically

perpetuated within discourse about institutional concerns

connected IHith television technology and professionalism.

This has reinforced the collective need to view Kennedy~s

death as a locus for professional behavior and

technological legi tima·tion. Organizational and

institutional memory has thus helped journalists and news

organizations perpetuate versions of the assassination

narrative by which they can most effectively profit. Like

the celebrity tale valorizes individual reporters.,

organizational and institutional tales have helped to

valorize speci£ic news organizations, institutions and

I
I institutional values. The repeated and systematic co-
I optation of these tales within professional lore has
I helped journalists create the kind of past that appears to
j

I logically enhance and valorize not only the stature of

 396

journalistic professionalism but of television n,ews as

well.

Thus television technology has shaped not only

pro£essional lore but the collective perceptions o£

journalists about themselves. Walter'Cronkite, asked to

comment on television's £ifty years of hroadcastingp

re£lected on using television to look back at television.

"You'll be amazed at how much you've £orgotten that you

remembered," he sa i d e.~(,", Claims such as these matter less

£or their accuracy and more £or the notions that they

encourage journalists to circulate about and amongst

themselves. Within and across the journalistic communityp

journal ists have held that the assassination ",as "real i ty

framed by a television set· 1

~7, and they have formed their

sel£-de£initions as pro£essionals in conjunction with that

v fev.;' D

This is important, because it has helped journalists

turn themselves into an interpretive community by using

their assassination retellings as an act of communication

that holds them together. Pivoting assassination

retellings on pro£essional lore rather than individual

tales o£ celebrity suggests that such lore is dependent on

the organizational and institutional loci where individual

reporters work. Individual reporters are not only cast as

 397

players who uphold proven parameters of professionalism

but certain organizational and institutional loci provide

frames for their activities both at the time of the

assassination and their perpetuation of narratives about

those activities years later. Journalists' pro:fessional

memories are thus derived not only from individuals but

from the organizational and institutional loci where they

fit. Through both dimensions, journalists are able to

I
constitute themselves as an independent, authoritative

community.

It is worthwhile to quote writer Lance Morrow~ who

used a recent essay about photojournalism to consider

certain intersections of memory and professionalism that

technology has generated. His comments went as follows:

Taking pictures is a transaction that snatches

instants away from time and imprisons them in
rectangles. These rectangles become a collective
public memory and an image-world that is located
usually on the verge of tears ... The pictures
made by photojournalists have the legitimacy of
being news, fresh information ... (But) it is only
later that the artifacts of photojournalism sink
into the textures of the civilization and
tincture its memory: Jack Ruby shooting Lee
Harvey Oswald, John-John saluting at the funeral

Morrow's comments reflect what journalism pro£essionals

have done with the assassination narrative, in all its

forms. Through the assassination story, they have

rearranged instanciations OI time and space in order to

effectively fashion the kinds of memories that most

 398

directly bene£it the organizational and institutional

concerns of American professional journalism. It is within

these larger discourses that their narratives have become

ultimately meaning£ul and power£ul.

Already in 1964, one o£ the leading trade journals

maintained that the occurrences o£ November 22 to 25,

1963, "belonged to journalism, and speci£ically to the

national organs o£ journalism" The pro£essional lore

that has unified the American journalistic community has

done much to uphold the validity o£ such a statement. This

chapter has attempted to describe the way in which such a

goal was not only accomplished, but rendered an integral

part o£ how journalists collectively look at themselves .

• A large body o£ literature exists on pro£essionalism and

journalistic practice, including D. Weaver and G.C.
Wi Ihoi t, :Ih.§' .... A.!'!!"E..ts:!'!.!LJ:9.1!£.r.!.!'!.±..±.§.t.. (Bloomington: Uni versi ty
o£ Indiana Press, 1986) and its precursor J. Johnstone, E.
Slawski and W. BOCJman, Ih.§'.._..N.<?. "'. § ....l'_,!,9P...t<?. (Urbana: University
o£ Illinois Press, 1976). Also see Lee Becker et aI, :Ih.§',.
:I:r..!'!.tn.!..!l9.......!'!.r.!.o:l.._J:!A:r:J. !:!.9.......9..f.. _.J.:.Q.1!,_It!'!t!. §.t. §. ( Nor ,~oo d , N. J .: Ab 1 ex,
1987), £or a general overvieCJ on pro£essionalism.
Z The term is borrowed £rom £olklore, and connotes the
ability o£ groups to consolidate themselves through
narratives which detail the group's origin.
" Meg Green£ield, "The Way Things Really Were," N.§'_~o..§.",§'..§'J5
(11/28/88), p. 98.
"':t· Barbara tval ters,. quoted in HTen Years Later: Where tvere
You?" g. :?fl.1!...!..!:..§'.80 (November 1973), p. 136.
,"; Gwen daB 1 air , ,U. !!!2.:?_t.... g..Q.±.o:l.§'D_, .....J:§'..:?!2.!...O;='!'!.......??IY_!.t.s:h_..?...l}_Q......i.h..E;'!.
;;_E?:. +'J.~:tD.g_~._Q.:f.. . . .I~~J~~5j~. §:..t9.I!:.......N.§t~!..§'. (New York: Simon and Schuster,
1988), p. 71.
E, Dan Rather with Mickey Herskovli tz, I ...o_,!,__r;::_,,!.!'!.§,_,!:§.....!,ever
1'I.:1,....;,..r.!15.."'. (New York: Ballantine, 1977), p. 145.
'7 I!::>A.q., pp. 126-7.
t::l J.. Q. t9.~ p.. 127.
,. J.k.!. q" P • 128 .
 399

,. <> .:I:J?J.s!.. p. 152.

~1 Journalistic training manuals, £or instance, tend to
provide extensive sections about how to operate whatever
technology is at hand in news-work. The current vogue in
so-called "new technologies" also generally motivates
discussions about ethical dilemmas generated in
journalism, usually related to privacy_ See, for example,
Stephen Klaidman, [Link]£!'.1J9.Y..€L ..;rg.Y..:r.n."lJ.J.§.:t (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1987) or Tom Goldstein's T..!.'l§....N.'!!..w.§.
A.!,.....Any......Gg.§.!,. (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1985) for
discourse about news and technology.
'"" See Tom I,Vicker, "A Reporter Must Trust His Instinct,"
$..~.t.:.b!.;!2.!-1{!y..~ . ~R_~_Y.~_E§!5~. (1/11/64) or Charles Roberts, OIEyet;,.1itness
in Dallas," N.'!!.~.§.W.'!!..'!!.!s. (12/5/66).
,3 Gabe Pressman, Robert Lewis Shayon and Robert Schulman,
., The Res p on sib 1 eRe porter, •• T!'?J..§.Y.:L.§iS'.!:l....9.H§.!:.!'§!:1Y.. (S pr i n g
1964), p. 15.
,.,. Steve Bell, KY.\I1..,JIY...'!!..W.1.t.D.§.§.§.... N.'!!.X1.:?. (11/22/88).
,. '5 Harr i son E. Sa 1 i sbury, S.... .I;[Link]>§ .... 2J....::;.h."!.!:l.g.'!!...! .....S....B,!'?12f!.!::t;!'?!::. .§.
T,,!:J,!'? ....f!.L..9.H.L.. IJ.l)l§. (New York: Harper and Row, 1988), p. 70.
:I. (7i. !1?.:t~.t, p • 67.
' 7 Tom Wicl<er, "A Reporter Must Trust His Instinct," 1964,
p. 81.
'.Ii., Tom Wicker, "Lyndon Johnson vs the Ghost of Jack
Kennedy," J:;;~gl1'!.iX.§. (November 1965), p. 152.
"~) Ben jam i n Br a d 1 ee , Q2-'2y'!'?!:.§.,,!!,. ,i,..2.!:l.§...1v..;i,. !'.h....!<:.!'?.l!.!:l-''''!:!.y.. (N e w Yo r k :
[Link], 1975), p. 7.
;~'" "\o}hat's Fit to Print?" Ih.!'? ..!3§J?.9.;:.:t;..",£ (1/2/64), p. 12.
Also see "Reporter Engage," N."'~.§.~."'."'.!s. (12/23/63), p. 70.
~;:~~. f..9J:J.~;:: .... ".P.~. y..§. ... _...~..!:!_.. J~:.9._y..§.mJ?.§.;.:... CBS News (11 J 17 / 88)
B

'";" Ed win New man , [Link]. -'~§§9.§.:?.1l!§!.:I:;;l.9_l}.:.....A:2.....:J:. t .....H.s!f!12§n§g., NBC

News (11/22/88).
;"," "John F. Kennedy Memorial Edition," bJ.i.!'?., Special
Edition Reprint (Winter 1988).
~"•. William B. Kunhardt Jr., !eJ.:t:.'!!.........:i,.IL.9."!m."'.±.2.!,. (New York:
Time-Life Books, 1988), p. 317.
;"'"" "John F. Kennedy Memorial Edition," !eJ..:f.",., 1963.
;;;.'Gi, "Can You Believe That 20 Years Have Passed," f..2El:l.'!!..§.
(12/5/83), p. 26.
B7 Kunhardt, 1988, pp. 8, 13.
;'"'' I.£.K. ..!'..:2.§."!:2.§:LJ13".tJ.c:m.;...... !'.§ .... J.:. !,... H."!P12"'.!l§9., NBC Ne ,. s (11/22/88);
Tb.§. __ .\~.'!!..'!!..!s._~.§. __ LO.§.t_..~.!'?nn§[Link]., NBC New s ( Mar c h 1989 )
•• The series was screened on NBC during November of 1988.
;".c, Gary Paul [Link] .. ~. . t;:.t.:. tm.§.. (New York: Harper and Ro\.v,
1978).
~. Blair, p. 199.
~. In particular, Barbara Matusow goes into great detail
about how Kintner's exploits enhanced the prestige of NBC
New s [ See Bar bar a Mat u s ow, Th.§L.J:;;.y.§.nJng.......?!,.!'!.!':.§. (Bo s to n :
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1983), pp. 76 ff].
 400

$~ In keeping with the fact that ABC had not originally

performed the event in a way that made i t worthwhile to
remember, assassination narratives have not £eatured as
prominently within organizational histories of that news
organization.
"'"' Ed win Ne wm an, ,:rEK .. i';§.§~§§Jn.~t.j,.9n.; ... i';.§...Jt.J:L~l?l?§!n§'q., NBC
NelvS (11/22/88).
""" Eril< Barnouw, I!l..~",._.g.:f....!:'..b.§!n1z (London: Oxford University
Press, 1975).
"e.'. "The Homents You Can Never Forget," Iy....g.!dl.9.",. (5/5/89),
p. 4.
,;:7 William A. Henry III, "The 11eaning of TV," !d..:f.§'. (Harch
1989), p. 58.
$'" F.9.!l..!:. J?~y'§._:i,D.J\!.QY.§,l"..Q§'.:r., CBS News (11117/88).
~. Hatusow, 1983, p. 107 •
.(~.c::> .+. fti9~J' p. 106 .
..tl·:t Richard A .. Bla]>\e, "'Two 110ments of Grief J"l ~.!f!:~~xJ.£.?:.
(11/24/73), p. 402.
".G' Lawrence Wright, I!'......I.h.§'. . . l:'I."'Y!......W.Q.!:J. 9.. (New York: Vintage
Books, 1983), p. 71.
<,." Alan Robinson, "Reporting the Death of JFK," Associated
Press Di spa tch, carr i ed by Ih.§' ..12hJ,J."'.<:I."'J.P.h.,i,..~... [Link]'.t:r."'_:r..
(11/22/88), p. 8E .
.t.~.t.I· "Television/s Fiftieth Anniversary," P..§:.2,pJ.§'_ (Summer
1989), p. 9 .
•,.", .:I:.12J..<:I., p. 100.
":HS'~ Peter Kaplan and Paul Slansky J' "Golden Moments, II

[Link].!1.9,i,..§.§§,},!.:r. (September 1989), p. 136.

<,? tH cha e I A. Kur tz , Q:r.;LI!!§'..•.9.:f. ..tJ:>.§'.....Q§'rrt.!l.E.Y. ( Kno" v i 11 e :
University of Tennessee Press, 1982), p. v.
[Link]"l JJ?.A. ft ..
Robinson, "Reporting the Death of JFK," 1988, p. 8E.
±Q.:i,g.•
:'~.a Da n R a th er, [Link]::!.;r.~ ..J?§I...Y.§".,..JXL~.N.Q.Y§..m.l:?.§.!.'.. , CBS New s (11 / 1 7 / 88) .
~"'" "Icons: The Ten Greatest Images of Photojournalism,"
Ii.!ll.§. (Special Issue on 150 Years of Photojournalism),
(Fall 1989), p. 8.
,,,,, "New Challenges: 1950-80," IJ. m.'i". (Special Issue on 150
Years of Photojournalism), (Fall 1989), p. 56.
,.v, .....................
Ibid , P • 55 .
,.,;" See Bradley Greenberg and Edwin Parker, Ih.'i"....K§!!'.n.§'.<:I.y.
i';.§.§"'.9_§:i,.I!"'.t.J,..9n....i'!I!.9...."th"'...i';I~.§'.:r.. i,.£.~n......P"'.Q. ±.tS. (Stan£ ord: Stanford
University Press, 19(5).
"E, \val ter Cronkite, quoted on F.:L:f_ty...y§'.~!".§ .. Q:f .. l.§..L"'.Y..J,..§J..Qnl._.l'\.
GQ:I,.9.§,I!.,"nnJ.Y.§'.:r.9.~.:r.y , CBS News Spec i a I <11 126 I 89) .
~;·7 Judd Rose, "Twenty-fifth Anniversary of JFK
Assassination," N.;i,..[Link]..!:!.§., ABC News (11/22/88).
:0;.';80 Lance Norrow, "Imprisoning Time in a Rectangle, II Ttm.~.
(Special Issue on 150 Years of Photojournalism), (Fall
1989), p. 75.
 401

f::i'it<} 1'Th e A 58 a e.s ina t i on p I. 9..9.. J.:.,!:J. m.Q.J:"sL._:J.9..~_~n..§.J..!. §.ffi..."R.§..y....~_§.y.f.. ( tv i n te r

19(4), p. 5.

I
I.

I
i!
II
t
i
 402

CHAPTER TEN

THE AUTHORITY OF THE PROFESSION:

RECOLLECTING THROUGH HISTORY AND THE CUSTODIANSHIP OF
MEl10RY

"What is accessible to all of us is the memory of

ourselves during that bleak November weekend" "

The continued recognition of journalists as the

preferred retellers of the assassination story ultimately

depended on the ability of reporters to authorize

themselves outside of journalism. Because the story of

Kennedy's death was not only a story about journalism, one

preferred mode of perpetuating journalistic associations

with it was through the authentication of reporters in

parameters not related to their own professionalism. Such

a mode posited journalists in authoritative positions that

were culled not from journalism, but from history. It

authorized journalists as historians.

This third memory system has encouraged journalists

to perpetuate notions of themselves as the story's

preferred spokespeople through the role ascribed them by

history. Brought into play alongside the memory system

offered by celebrity - which has elevated the importance

of the individual reporter and that offered by

professional lore - which has elevated the importance of

news organizations and institutions of professional

journalism, the memory system of history has helped

 403

journalists e££ectively perpetuate their assassination

tales by elevating the importance of considerations basic

to the general structure of the profession. This chapter

explores the link between journalism and history,

considering history's function as a privileged record or

anachronism in reconsidering the assassination, the

ability of journalistic record to function as

historiography, and the emergent focus among journalists

on the custodianship of memory in their assassination

retellings. Specifically, I address how journalists, in an

attempt to validate themselves beyond the profession, have

established their custodianship of assassination memories

in order to establish themselves as the story's authorized

historians. This makes history the most general and final

stage in journalists'" attempts to consolidate themselves

as an authoritative interpretive community around their

assassination retellings.

!!.I?-I_ORY :-RR :i:..[Link] E1LKE.:.Q.QJil2._Q!'Lj\ jIj.!1g H13 ON I SJ:l3.

As a memory system, history has long been lauded for

its ability to lend depth to the events it retells. In one

View, it is a "discipline which (seeks) to establish true

statements about events which have occurred and objects

which have existed in the past.. "". Both in perspective,

narrative standard and analytical method, historians have

tried to be record-keepers of a system predicated on

 404

distance In their attempt to be analytical, remote and

seemingly objective about the impulses they inscribe in

their chronicles, they ascribe to a view of their record

as value-free .0(1·

For observers examining events over time and space p

history offers two advantages: One is the detached, even

remote, view it offers; another is its larger perspective,

where looking at events from afar appears to give

observers a more stable view of what happened. The

illusion of a greater record or narrative by which events

can be chronicled gives them a seemingly "natural"

relevance, making them sensical by -their implantation

within a larger context. It displays a "certain kind of

relationship to 'the past' mediated by a distinctive kind

of written discourse"" History is thus seen as deepening

the record of an event, traits which have set it apart

from other modes of chronicling.

But from a traditional perspective, history does not

make room £or memory. Among traditional historians, memory

and history have been seen as offering "mutually opposed

ways of appreciating the past .. ~:' .. Memory is expected to

give way to history, its subjective images yielding .. to

the historian's description of objective facts" "7 Over

time, memory becomes a tool in the historian~s hands,

 405

suggesting that as long as memory remains vital, history

cannot assume an authoritative role in discourse.

For retellers o£ the assassination, most of whom

lived through its events, the terision between history and

memory bore directly on their activities. Retellers

attended to history in different ways, with assassination

buffs playing into their stereotyped role as

sharpshooters. Their involvement in the story was

sporadic, often erratic. Historians, on the other hand,

displayed a consistent interest in the story but tried to

fasten it within larger discourses about Kennedy's

administration and Presidency. With few exceptions, their

interest rested less with the assassination story per se

and more with how they could use it to illustrate larger

developments of the time Even historical textbooks

tended not to mention the assassination in detail

Situated in and around these groups was the journalistic

community, with its own professional codes, modes of

storytelling and technologies for telling tales that were

all predicated on its presence within the assassination

story. Such a presence implied the importance of memory.

To an extent, all assassination retellers expected

that the events of the assassination would eventually be

inscribed as part of historical record and that

professional lived memories would decrease in importance.

 405

In large part this was because as the story of the

assassination moved across time and space, it moved

directly into the historian~s domain. It was an "event in

history, II claimed one trade publication already one week

after events Years later" in 1957,

contemplated the historical status of the story under the

ti tIe "Assassination: History or Headlines?"' ~.:1.

The inevitability of history was a natural

expectation. As one journalist proclaimed in 1955:

Millions of words, spoken and written, have

already been dedicated to the subject (of the
assassination), and there will be millions, if
not billions, more before (Kennedy's)
assassination takes its place as part of history
:1. 8~

History was seen as a resting place to which all

retellings voluntarily or involuntarily aspired.

Yet, as these chapters have shown, retelling the

assassination was not a conflict-free enterprise. Shortly

following Kennedy's murder, Tom Wicker recalled how

a few friends - journalists, political figures,

academics were lunching informally in
Washington. Their attention turned, not
unnaturally, to Kennedy. What, they asked, would
history most likely remember of him? '3.

Wicker's reference to three groups vying for authority

oVer Kennedy's memory is significant, for while it pointed

out what appeared to be a shared perspective on history -

that it held the natural rights to the assassination story

it also underscored the competition by which alternate

 407

retellers were attempting to shape collective memory about

Kennedy's li£e and death.

It is thus no surprise that the idea o£ history

taking over the assassination story met with resistance by

other retellers. In part, this was due to the particular

kind o£ participant-observer valorized by historical

record - someone .,ho embodied a sensitivity to the larger

picture,. objectivity and a detached perspective, a sense

o£ analytical remoteness about events. Because these

qualities are in some way determined by the passage o£

time, observers needed to wait in abeyance until i t was

possible to pronounce suitable judgment on the events o£

Kennedy's death. In order to produce a sequencing o£ the

event over time, they had to wait to implement their

retellings 14. In the case of historical retellings, then,

the "participant" dimension o£ the participant-observer

was considerably subordinated to the "observer, I. which

remained highly valorized.

Such a situation was at odds with larger developments

o£ the time, contradicting the re£lexivity o£ sixties'

chronicles and the increased proximity o£ history £or

those seeking to set up new boundaries o£ cultural

authority. It £ailed to recognize the pseudo-historical

cast o£ most accounts generated by people who came o£ age

in the sixties, or the possibility that £orming their own

 408

pro£essional identities was in£uaed with history and

historical relevance. Even larger questions about

documentary method emphasized pro£essional memories as an

alternate £orm o£ documentation, which in essence

valorized qualities in the assassination reteller that are

lacking in the traditional historian.

But most important, the idea o£ history taking over

the assassination story has remained problematic because

it £ails to account £or the continued vitality o£ memory.

For example, the eemphasis on a reteller's presence has

evolved as a valued part o£ assassination retellings,

circumventing the di££iculties that the evidence o£ memory

has traditionally presented £or historians. As one

observer remarked, "Memory has always been di££icult £or

historians to con£ront ..• (It) is considered an in£ormation

source to be con£irmed by scholarship" Yet more

general suggestions that all people with recollections -

not just historians - are able to e££ectively consider the

assassination story have highlighted the legitimacy o£

memory. This is borne out by Tom Wicker's comments about

the three purveyors o£ memory - the journalist, academic

and politician who sat together to transcribe the

parameters o£ collective memory about Kennedy. They

underlined the actor-based nature o£ the memory systems

through which many assassination recollections have been

 409

e££ectively £orwarded. By underscoring the importance o£

recollectors as players, they made memory a salient part

o£ the historical record o£ Kennedy's death. Over time,

this has both highlighted the potentially active role

played by recollectors £rom a range o£ pro£essional

domains and undermined the privilege accorded traditional

historians.

Thus, as a memory system, history has o££ered

advantages that are valorized but a means o£ record-

keeping that is not. Advantages o£ perspective,

stability o£ interpretation, or a sensitivity to the

larger picture - have success£ully separated history £rom

other chronicles o£ the assassination, but its valued mode

o£ record-keeping and participant-observation have

remained problematic. This does not mean that other

retellers o£ the assassination have deemed history

irrelevant. Rather, they have attempted to locate ways to

best correct its surrounding problematics. They have set

about proving that they can play the historical role

better than historians, directly boosting their ability to

consolidate themselves as an independent authoritative

community.

Invoking history as a memory system linked into

journalists' uncertainty over the degree o£

 410

distinctiveness between the two professions. To an extent,

journalists' interest in history and historical record

appeared to be somewhat woven into their own retellings.

"Historic photographs" were referenced across media

historic films were lauded as media triumphs 1?; "historic

coverage" became one frequently-aired label o:f

journalistic per:formances o:f the assassination story

Even one well-known saying about journalism held that i t

constituted the :first rough dra:ft o:f history. That

comment, o:f:fered by Was~~ngtoll--E£~~ publisher Philip

Graham :t'ili/ , was widely quoted throughout the assassination

literature.

Journalists initially saw themselves helping history

and historians in retelling the assassination. One trade

publication held that "never be:fore has there been such

documentation of history-in-the-making" 80, while another

reporter admitted that if ":future historians will have a

full record of events," it was because "they will know

exactly what Lee Harvey Oswald looked like" This

implied that television, by disseminating images o:f the

assassination, had supported the making of history.

Journalists, particularly television reporters, viewed

themselves as having offered the American public a "new

dimension in understanding history" ,:~:iiii:

 411

Defining themselves as aides to historians encouraged

journalists to emphasize differences between journalistic

and historical retellings of the assassination story,

which necessarily highlighted journalists' specific

contribution to the assassination record. As one observer

remarked:

Reporters and scholars are inclined to think of

themselves as antithetical. Call a
newspaperman's copy recondite and he reaches for
a pica ruler; tell a professor his paper is just
journalism and he invites you to join him in the
gym. The feud is an old one. It is time to stop
it. The only difference between the two is a
difference of time; today's journalism is
tomorrow's history 2 3 .

Journalists construed the privileged character of history

as being one of temporal demarcation. As Theodore White

said, "We reporters are the servants of history, offering

up our daily or passing tales for them to sort out" ''"'''.•

Journalists were responsible for the events of today,

historians for the events of yesterday. Television

documentaries became occupied with the point at which

"history reexamined the facts" Journalists defined

their function as providers of a "first draft," and saw

their activities preliminary to a final draft of the story

to be written by historians. One article in lh§'.

fro9Fe~siv~ noted that

The commentators, responding in the tragic

passion of the moment, have had their say about
Mr. Kennedy, and the historians, writing in the
coolness of time, will have theirs one day .a
 412

This implied that history would take up where journalism

left off, with history offering a finite point of

completion where all contradictory or transient claims to

the story would be discarded, made permanent or

immobilized. This promoted journalism aa a £orm o£

uncooked history, where "the participants' memories

haven't yet entirely faded and the historians haven't yet

taken over" a view that in effect detached and

distanced historians from the assassination story. Because

journalists were closer to the story, their authority

derived from their presence therein, they had an advantage

over historians, whose authority would only come after the

I facts became clear.

I It is thus no surprise that the differences between

I journalistic

as
and historical

assassination retellings
perspectives were

were perpetuated.
not upheld

The clear-

cut temporal demarcation between them was to a large

degree undermined by circumstance, with the President's

early demise itself giving journalists an advantage over

historians: While historians had had insufficient time to

gauge the Kennedy regime, journalists, who had been

granted easy access to the 1,000 days of Kennedy's

administration, were placed in the position of becoming

its preferred evaluators. This was certainly the case with

Theodore White ••• As Norman Mailer said:

 413

Much o£ what we had to say, intended to have the

li£e o£ contemporary criticism (became) abruptly
a document which speaks £rom ... a time which is
past, £rom history··.

Journalists, whether or not they so desired, were cast by

the circumstances o£ Kennedy's death into the role o£

instant historians.

Moreover, the traditional distinction between

journalists and historians, which separated

contemporaneous accounts £rom accounts a£ter-the-£act,

became less relevant as retellings o£ the assassination

story persisted over time. In part this was because news

reports themselves lacked a temporal £initeness:

The (New Yo:rk.2. Tim,.!'!..§!. would not be thrown away by

readers a day later, it was a collectors'
item ... lt would pass on, as a £amily heirloom or
a relic or a vague testimony to existence on the
day a President was shot 3 0

The £unction and role o£ media accounts took on a

historical cast, by which journalists' documentation was

used to anchor the events o£ that weekend in memory

The £act that retellings o£ the events o£ Kennedy's death

persisted worked to historians~ disadvantage, its

persistence raising serious questions about the length o£

time journalists were expected to retain their positions

as spokespersons £or events, and at which point historians

were expected to take over.

Demarcations between journalists and historians were

also blurred by the period o£ suspension expected o£

 414

historians. That state of limbo, by which historians were

expected to wait before they began their analysis of

Kennedy's death, never ended. Instead, the story's

persistence prevented them from '"being able to complete a

coherent account of this extraordinarily complex even·t··

This put them in the peculiar position of having a

IInon-role" in the assassination's retelling. It also meant

that notions about history as the end of a process, where

the interim nature o£ news was made permanent~ were

displaced by the involvement of other retellers.

The ability of historians to uphold history was also

undermined by questions of professional perspective. It

was suggested earlier that the larger focus on the

participant and reflexive quality of sixties' narratives

set up standards of analysis and storytelling that

traditional historians could not fulfill. Rather, the

emphasis on presence, participation and memories made the

detached mode of historical storytelling ineffective in

retelling the assassination tale. Even notions about the

constructed nature of the historical record undermined the

position of historians, whose attempts to forward the

.. truth"' were deemed problematic. The constructed nature of

the assassination record suggested that there was no one

"truth'" to be had. The fact that their own professional

practices depended on the eventual weaving of

 415

contradictory threads in"to one coherent narrative put

historians into a professional quandary.

Yet all of these points have worked to the advantage

of journalists: Proximity and presence uphold their

perspective on events; their mode of storytelling is

valorized within larger attempts to reconsider the

assassination record; and the memories they provide are a

legitimate mode of record-keeping. This means that

professional justifications for journalistic and

historical involvement in the assassination story has put

journalists in an advantageous position, and supported

their attempts to assume the role of historians in their

retellings. Rather than define themselves as aides to

historians, journalists have thereby begun to see

themselves as independent makers of the historical record.

!"lIST.9RljlNS:_ ATTEl'IPT1LTO ACCQ.!tQDATE E.~l,.EXIY.1TY

This does not mean that historians and other persons

qualified to engage in historical research have not

attempted to resolve tensions between the valued mode of

detailed historiography and a more general demand for

participant, re£lexive narratives. Transitions within the

history pro£ession, particularly during the early

seventies, generated professional hybrids who appealed to

an alternate view of historical record ~"" One such

hybrid, mentioned earlier, was the assassination buff.

 416

While the buffs were situated outside of the ranks of

historians per se, they wreaked havoc on the recognized

boundaries of cultural authority in a variety of

professional domains, including history. Their ability to

contest acceptable limitations of a citizen~s right to

I ,
reconsider

testament

documentary
official

to the

process. Not
documentary

viability of
record

Uotherness"

only did their activities uphold

constituted

within
a

·I
the reflexivity of the time but they supported a larger

context where individuals appealed to a sense of history

in making their lives meaningful. As time passed, and the

:.' volume of material produced by assassination buffs
I increased, their presence within the assassination story

constituted a direct challenge to the role generally

played by historical record.

Another such pro£essional hybrid generated by

disjunctions between the historical mode of detachment and

an emphasis on reflexivity and participation was the so-

called ··participant .. historian, or historian of popular

memory_ Individuals like David Halberstam, Garry Wills, or

possibly Todd Gitlin have sought to effect an alternate

mode of documenting history that attended to their own

participation in it. Unlike traditional historians, who

were wont to shift through documents from a distance,

popular historians - many of them historians - have used

 417

their experience within events to look at them from

nearby.

In retelling the assassination, popular historians

have built up a distinct advantage over their more

traditional colleagues. Their views and actions are seen

as a legitimate part of the stories they wrote, a point

that links them with ongoing discourses about

participation, reflexivity, and the relevance of memory.

for example,

documented the trappings of American politics in a way

that left little doubt as to his own perspective on them,

and he did so while events relevant to his chronicle

continued to take place ~,., .. But even the fact that popular

historians have [Link] displaced more traditional

record-keepers of the assassination tale did not earn them

status as an integral part of the professional community

of historians 3~

other attempts to accomodate reflexivity have been

found in discussions about what constitutes preferred

historical documentation. This was borne out by the

various changes in perspectives on memory, with historians

and historical theorists beginning to break down

traditional opposition to memory and deconstruct the

rigidity of such an opposition. For certain observers,

such as Aries or Braudel, memory is seen as complementary

 418

to history, in that it allows access to domains that

history cannot reach 3G Yet another, equally innovative

perspective is one which equates memory with history, as

featured in the work o:f Pierre Nora '::'::7 This has had

direct relevance :for journalists, for their method o:f

record-keeping and perspective on events are closely

aligned with what historians are trying to achieve in

their attempts to accomodate reflexivity. Discourse about

historical reflexivity has thus upheld journalists'

attempts to consolidate themselves as an independent and

authoritative community.

Yet other alternatives to the detached mode of

historical record-keeping are found in alternate forms o:f

historiography, such as memoirs or biographies.

Chroniclers have used them to promote versions of the

story that are less detached, writing "personal memoirs

based on remembered experiences" ~~H~\. For example, Arthur

Schlesinger Jr.'s A_-Ih~~n~-P-~s. used its chronicler's

insider's status at Kennedy's White House to generate an

historical view of what had transpired therein, as did

Theodore Sorensen's ~~~~~gy Alternate modes of

historiography have played a particularly important role

in highlighting the reflexive dimension of historians'

retellings of the story of Kennedy's life and death. But

again, as with popular historians, they have remained

;::
 419

separate from the general set of texts considered first-

rate historical documents 40. Like the popular historians,

their hybridization, as a mode of record-keeping, has kept

their chroniclers in marginal positions vis a vis the

larger community of historians.

The existence, however tentative, of professional

hybrids and practices of hybridization suggests that there

is room for definitional flexibility over what constitutes

historical record and the role to be played by historians.

For as historically-anchored chronicles have begun to lend

their signature to the record of Kennedy's death,

journalists have been forced to rethink their own

distinctiveness from historians. Shortly after the

assassination, the work of memoirists, biographers and

particularly popular historians began to punctuate the

record. In particular, the popular historians' attempts to

accomodate their own reflexivity were met with skepticism

by many reporters.

Interestingly, journalists generally criticized these

historians for the very qualities that made them different

from their traditional colleagues. Journalists lambasted

them for being subjective, too close to events, too hasty,

and not sufficiently detached-' Attempts by historians

to adopt either a more participatory stance on events or a

 420

less analytically remote pespective in their analysis were

treated harshly. This was perhaps because reporters felt

that historians were encroaching on their domain. Popular,

or participant, historiography was particularly seen as

being too similar to journalism.

In that light, William Manchester's publication of

touted as the official history

o£ the assassination, was panned in reviews which brushed

it off as "compelling narrative but hardly as impartial

history" 4_. Columnist Mary McGrory asked whether it was

possible to "once see Kennedy plain," as she plied a

critical look at biographers who produced, in her view,

"early, perhaps hasty, memoirs II .<'.j.'::-s.. Biographers ~ accounts

were caustically labelled "memorists" by one reporter, who

asked "what are the proprieties and improprieties of all

this secret-baring?'" In the discussion that followed,

Kennedy's biographers were assumed to have overstepped

their participation in historical record:

The a fortiori argument does not apply to the

memoirists' other stated intention, that of
rendering a service to history. But history
even somewhat precipitately written - has its
claims .•• The circumstances under which these
books were written would dictate that they meet
the same set of criteria: that the history at a
minimum be accurate, the the assessments be
reasonably fair, and that the disclosures be
made for some recognizably serious purpose 4 5
 421

The article documented how memoirists had undermined their

commitment to accuracy, and then concluded that drama had

been served "at the expense of history" <,.<;.

Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. was perhaps the most direct

victim of the journalistic community's scorn. "Brief, not

a history," went !i§!;L§JNe~_~~ critique of Schlesinger's !i

His attempts to tamper with the

historian's detachment and objectivity ruffled the backs

of many journalistic observers. Said Andy Logan:

It's all right to be taken aback when

Schlesinger in the Lif~ serialization of !i
Iho~~and D§L~ has the President crying in his
wife's arms after the Cuban setback and then
removes the scene from his published
book ... Apparently where John Kennedy is
concerned, the previous winner of the Bancroft,
Parkman and Pulitzer prizes in history thinks of
historic material as something that may be tried
this way, turned around and tried that way, and
balled up and discarded if i t doesn't seem
entirely becoming to the subject 4 8 .

An accompanying drawing portrayed Kennedy and his "instant

historians" - including Schlesinger, Theodore Sorensen,

William Manchester and Pierre Salinger - in the role of

Jesus and his disciples

Thus attempts by historians to infuse their own

chronicles with a re£lexive, participatory mode of

analysis have been denigrated by the journalistic

community. Journalists tended to upbraid popular

historians for abandoning the detached mode of record-

keeping favored by their traditional counterparts, and

 422

have paid little attention to the corrective this brought

to the anachronistic dimensions o£ traditional

historiography. This has had to do in no small part with

the £act that popular historiography has brought

historians substantially closer to journalists' own mode

o£ chronicling. By adopting alternative modes o£

historical record-keeping, historians interested in

accomodating re£lexivity are seen as stepping into the

journalists' domain.

Historians' growing involvement in the assassination

story in ways that resembled the reportorial mode o£

story-telling has thus encouraged journalists to clearly

de£ine their own involvement in the story. Rather than

contextualize their activities as assisting in the making

o£ historical record, journalists have begun to see

themselves as makers o£ the historical record. They have

moved £rom acting as £acilitators o£ historians, to

historical £acil!tators. This has lent a new dimension to

their attempts to use the assassination retelling as a

ritual act o£ communication. It suggests that retellings

have not only authorized journalists amongst themselves

but among other interpretive communities as well,

underscoring basic assumptions about the structure o£ the

journalistic pro£ession.
::c,

423

In such a way, journalists' narratives about the

Kennedy administration and assassination have addressed

notions about history and historical record overlooked by

historians. Journalists have begun to consciously promote

themselves within the larger corpus of historiography and

the making of historical record. Memoirs, biographies and

popular histories were provided by reporters and writers

like Theodore White or Pierre Salinger All of them

have continued to define themselves as reporters despite

their forays into historical interpretation.

Already one week after the assassination, trade

publications hailed "a dark day in history (that> was

covered superbly by the mass media which in turn made

history" "". Journalists saw themselves addressing points

in the record that historians had missed, and stressed

that they were doing the work of historians: Media critic

Gay Talese said that for reporters, .. the test in Dallas

was like no other test ..• (New___~ork -I~~ correspondent

Tom) Wicker was writing for history that day" """'. A New

Y9.~k Times book called Ih~Kegn~~~ was billed by one

paper as a "history prepared by M~ York Times staff under

H. Faber's direction"' ~.3 Referring to his hunger .. to

contribute to the recording of contemporary history"

reporter Benjamin Bradlee recounted how he was motivated

 424

by his "unique, historical access" to the Kennedy

administration:

I knew enough of history to know that the fruits

of this kind of access seldom make the history
books, and the great men of our time are less
understood as a result am.

At heart of the considerations through which Bradlee

negotiated his right to act as historian was an almost

unvoiced assumption that his history would be preferred to

that offered by professional historians. Such a view was

also implicit in an appraisal that Tom Wicker's articles

and books about Kennedy were '"non-textbook histories" "-'<.>.

In that view, Wicker was praised for having worked against

the distortions effected by historical record on memories

of Kennedy.

Attempts to recast journalistic retellings as history

have existed across media. For example, reporter Jack

Anderson justified his televised report on the Kennedy

assassination by lamenting the suspended involvement of

historians. He said that

The government has sealed the most sensitive

files on the Kennedy assassination - the key CIA
file, the critical FBI file - all in the name of
national security. By the time these files are
jarred loose from the agencies that could be
embarrassed by them, the information will be
ancient history, and only the historians will
care, but we care now t~';7'

Anderson saw journalists providing a degree of

participation that historians had missed.

 425

Another particularly illustrative example was £ound

in a set o£ video-casettes about Kennedy's administration

and assassination that NBC produced in 1988. The blurb on

the back o£ the tape, entitled Th.e Week i&§L..I".Qst ,Jotm...E......

K§!!f1edy, went as £ollows:

To commemorate the 25th anniversary o£ JFK's

death, NBC News has opened its archives to make
available The Week We L09t___... John __E....
~enn~9J[ ••. perhaps the most important video
document o£ our time. From more than 70 hours o£
live, on-the-air coverage, the most dramatic,
crucial segments have been skil£ully woven in a
special production by NBC News to give you a
moment-by-moment account o£ the Kennedy
assassination and its a£termath. This is history
exactly as i t happened ••• and happened to you. As
you saw it then ~a.

Implicit here was the notion o£ providing the "real"

version of events. In the next paragraph, the possibility

of "owning history" was raised, when the tape was called

"an extraordinary piece o£ history that you could not own

until now". By recasting their retellings as history, NBC

News made explicit one o£ the underlying tensions in

journalists' attempts to authorize themselves as

spokespeople £or Kennedy's death. Such a recasting o£

journalistic retellings attempted to legitimate

journalists as historians. Forwarding themselves as the

event's right£ul historians thus became part o£

perpetuating their authority £or the events in Dallas.

This suggests that rather than regard history as an

untouchable terrain, journalists have reworked the notion

 426

o£ history as a semi-sacred space inside o£ which

journalistic chronicles have their own legitimate resting

place. Larger discourses both about the increased

accessibility o£ history and the legitimacy o£ accessing

records o£ the record have worked in their £avor. They

have cast journalistic attempts to access historical

record in a positive light. In such a way, journalistic

involvement in the assassination story has made irrelevant

the idea o£ history providing a haven, where the events o£

Kennedy's death can eventually be granted proper

articulation. Journalists have implied that there is

something in-between contemporary retellings and

historical record, where the meaning o£ the event can be

negotiated not only as an interim arrangement but as a

long-term one.

All o£ this suggests that journalists have

systematically tried to perpetuate themselves as alternate

keepers o£ the historical record. They £ancy themselves as

a di££erent kind o£ participant-observer - one that is

validated by presence, participation and proximity, rather

than the remote and detached objectivity touted by

traditional historians. Alongside popular historians and

historians who use less traditional methods o£ record-

keeping, journalists have established themselves as

promoters o£ the historical record. Within larger

 427

discourses about accesa to history, the salience o£

pro£essional memories and the viability o£ accessing

records, this makes sense. It has set up a legitimating

£ramework by which journalists can promote the

perpetuation o£ their assassination tales within the role

ascribed them by history. This constitutes the £inal £rame

through which journalists have established themselves as

authorized spokespeople £or the assassination story. It is

within such a £rame that the act o£ perpetuating their

retellings helps to consolidate them as an interpretive

community, in that i t makes clear that the legitimation o£

the pro£ession rests not only inside journalism but

outside as well.

Because the assassination story remains such a vital

and contested story among so many groups o£ retellers,

their strong presence within it has undermined a number o£

givens about the practices o£ historians and their

inability to uphold the privileged status o£ history.

Journalists' activities have rendered them particularly

well-suited to take on the historian's role, i£ not

totally, then at least in tandem with historians

interested in their own re£lexivity.

Perpetuating journalists as retellers o£ events,

whose authority exceeds the recognized bounds o£

 428

journalism, is there£ore in a sense implicit in all

journalists' attempts to perpetuate assassination tales.

For by the very activity o£ perpetuation, journalists have

sought to extend their authority £or the assassination

beyond the immediate temporal £rame in which it occurred.

Such an activity has o££set what were earlier recognized

as legitimate temporal boundaries separating journalistic

£rom historical record. It has blurred the notion that

journalists are responsible £or the contemporaneous event,

historians £or the event o£ the past. For as time has

passed, and journalists have continued to show reluctance

about turning the events o£ Kennedy's death over to

historians, such a distinction has become irrelevant.

Journalists' declared interest in perpetuating certain

versions o£ the assassination story, as well as their role

in it, has upset demarcations between the two pro£essional

communities.

All o£ this blurs distinctions about where

journalistic record ends and historical record begins. In

his book j...ibra, Don Delillo relayed how the investigator

o£ Kennedy's murder took re£uge in his record-keeping

strategies:

The notes are becoming an end in themselves.

Branch has decided i t is premature to make a
serious e££ort to turn these notes into coherent
history. Maybe it will always be premature.
Because the data keeps coming. Because new lives
 429

enter the record all the time. The past is

changing as he writes m_.

Journalists~ unwillingness to surrender the facts to

historians has emerged from concerns that the record they

provide facilitates closure, perhaps prematurely.

Journalistic reluctance over whether historians should

lend closure has thus become an embedded message of

journalist's perpetuation of their assassination tales.

Journalists have thereby refused to turn the

assassination story over to historians in part because

they want to remain its authoritative spokespeople. For as

long as the story remains part of their domain, the

perpetuation of their authority remains a viable

objective. By invoking history, and passing off

journalistic pactice as being historically-motivated,

journalists have transported themselves into the role

ascribed them by history.

And what kind of history do they perpetuate? Unlike

historians, who tend to make sense of what other people

remember, journalists have made use of their own memories,

their recording of historical events accomplished through

lived recollections. It is significant that journalists'

distinctiveness from historians pivots on the centrality

of memory, because through memory journalists have assumed

the role ascribed by history. Their assumption of that

role has been facilitated by television technology. Its

 430

repeated images and recastings of the events of Kennedy's

death have allowed journali"sts to access the record about

the record in a way that has made the idea of turning i t

over to historians less appealing. Television coverage has

made it easier to access the archives of memory provided

by television networks or news magazines than to go back

to the original documents themselves. As John Connally

said in 1988:

I don't think the time has come when history

will really look at the Kennedy administration
with a realistic eye. And how could we? When you
see a beautiful little girl kneeling with her
hand on her father's coffin, and when you see a
handsome little boy standing with a military
salute by his slain father, how can you feel
anything but the utmost sympathy? It's a scene
of pathos, of remorse, of tragedy, and that's
the way we now view President Kennedy <ii",.

Television has interfered with historical progression by

not allowing memories to move beyond the images it

repeatedly showed. The idea of a history frozen by images

has thus worked to the advantage of journalists:

Television had no memory, it was not interested

in the past, it erased the past, there was never
time to show film clips of past events, and so,
inevitably, i t speeded up the advent of the
future ,,..

I
f-

I
and
In this way

perpetuate their
television has helped journalists offer

own version of historical narrative.

One observer recalled how ABC used a recreation of the

I
,
!f:-
shooting

a
of Lee Harvey Oswald as a promotional trailer for

Kennedy-related mini-series. He noted: "As the fictional

tI,
t

l
 431

clip was rebroadcast over and over again, the memories o£

the real event faded away. A clone had taken its place"

Gi.:;:; Television has relied, in Pierre Nora's words, on lithe

materiality of the trace, the immediacy of the recording,

the visibility of the image" .~. It has produced a mode of

historical recording that is based on archives of memory.

Becoming a "veritable history machine, spewing out a

constant stream of historical, semi historical and pseudo-

historical recreations"· television has helped

journalists create an archive of their memories that is

now referenced as history itself.

This suggests an implicit regard for the memories of

journalists, who are better equipped than other retellers

to access them in a repeated and systematic fashion. For

as long as journalists' memories remain, and can be

accessed, reporters will be reluctant to yield the

authority they suggest. Their emergence as custodians of

memory about the assassination has made them into

archivists of its story, becoming gatekeepers of their own

presence. Journalists have done their best to build a

history of the story through memory. Memory has become the

basis of the preferred retelling of the assassination

story.

In such a way, journalists have come to promote

themselves as authorized historians of the events of

 432

Kennedy's death. By perpetuating their assassination tales

through the memory system offered by history, journalists

have emerged as the story's legitimate preferred retellers

beyond the bounds of professional journalism. They have

perpetuated their tales by reconstructing their activities

as something other than journalism. Drawn by the

privileged status of history, they have created a record

of the assassination which not only has the depth,

perspective and stability of interpretation of historical

record, but the proximity, personal memories and

experience of journalistic accounts. Journalists have thus

personalized the history of the assassination, through

their own professional codes of journalistic practice,

collective memory and journalistic authority. They have

given texture to the historical record of Kennedy's death.

In concluding, it makes sense to quote from a remark

once made about historians:

Most historians would give a great deal to have

had the chance of being actually present at some
of the events they have described .''''.

The proximity journalists have upheld as their birthright

to the assassination story can be assumed by no other

reteller of the tale. The fact that journalists possess

what other retellers want has allowed them to immortalize

their experience o£ covering Kennedy's death as a

preferred mode of retelling the assassination. As one

 433

reporter said, "those of us who shared it will never

forget" In perpetuating assassination tales,

journalists have made certain that they will not be

forgotten. Journalists' tales have upheld their presence,

their participation and ultimately their memories as a

preferred mode of retelling the events of Kennedy's death.

Across time and space, the memory system of history has

made it possible for them to do so.

" Richard A. Blake, "Two Moments of Grief," limerica

(11/24/73), p. 402.
"' Murray G. Murphey, Our .!<n9~)eg£!!Lpf the Histo:.;:ic,!-!. Past.
(Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1973), p. 1.
3 This notion has been referenced in a variety of texts.
See, for example, Daniel Boorstin, liidc!.§n,_i:!.i.!?tory (New
York: Harper and Row, 1987).
'" I do not mean to suggest that history ;t§, value-free,
only that such an image has been sought by traditional
historians. For a discussion of the various attempts by
historians to define themselves differently, see Bernard
Sternsher, Con.~§us, Conflict an4-1lmeric'!.!!_Histori~n~
(Bloomington, Indiana University Press, 1975).
'" Hayden White, "Figuring the Nature of the Times
Deceased: Literary Theory and Historical Writing," in
Ralph Cohen, The Future of, Lit§!'"ary_]heoJ;:.Y. (New York:
Routledge, 1989), p. 19.
• Patrick H. Hutton, "Collective Memory and Collective
Mentalities: The Halbwachs-Aries Connection," Histo:r~cal
R§~leq!.i2.!l§' 2 (1988), p. 312.
7 Hutton, 1988, p. 317.
a The best example is Michael L. Kurtz, Crime of th~
~en~yx'y' (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1982),
and Thomas Brown, J~K: History 2K-'!.Il-~mag~ (Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1988). Kurtz in particular
laments the "neglect" among professional historians about
examining the events of Kennedy's death.
'" John Berendt, "A Look At the Record," !;.§'-q)d,;!,.re (November
1973), p. 264.
<0 EditoF- and Publisher (11/30/63), p. 6.
.. Assassination:
'.1.:1. History or Headl ines?", Newswe§.!i
(3/13/67), p. 44.
 434

,,=, Malcolm Muggeridge, "Books," j::sggire (October 1966), p.

14.
ie, Tom Wicker, "Kennedy Without End, Amen," £.§.g..."ire (June
1977), p. 65 •
• <, One notable exception to this was William G. Carleton's
"Kennedy in History: An Early Appraisal," A'l.tiocJl_Revi§.'<:1.
[(Fall 1964), pp. 277-299]. Interestingly, the article was
appended with the following note, that attested to
Carleton's attempt to "sequence" Kennedy before sufficient
time had passed: "Carleton's qualifications for an 'early
historical appraisal' of the Kennedy years are not only
his stature as a policial scientist but in the early
1940s ••• he had an opportunity to observe the Kennedy boys
during their formative years" (p. 277).
,. '" Michael H. Frisch, "The Memory of History," in Susan
Porter Benson et al., P~~s~nting the Past (Philadelphia:
Temple University Press, 1986), p. 11.
>.G.; One of the first examples was found in gdi t01Z-~nd
p~bl~sher (11/30/63), p. 67, but references to the
historic photographs of the assassination were found over
the entire time span of assassination narratives.
'7 One of the first examples here was Richard B. Stolley's
"The Greatest Home Movie Ever Made," !';.§.9..1,L:h!:.§. (November
1973), but this was also found over time as well •
• 6 As with both photographs and films, claims to having
made historic coverage were employed directly after the
assassination [ie., see ~~oadc~ti~ (12/2/63)].
,." David Halberstam, I..!>e Powers That Be (New York: Alfred
A. Knopf, 1979), p. 161. The interest in history
accompanied journalistic accounts about the nature of
their record-keeping for decades. Norman Mailer's Armies
Q~~h~_Ni~ht, for instance, which memorialized his
experiences in the march on the Pentagon, was subtitled

.0
"History as a NovellThe Novel as History."
Broadcasting (12/2/63), p. 50.
,,<> EdiJ,o:';:._"l!)J;LPublishe;: (11/30/63), p. 67.
""" Broadc_<:!§j;,i...~ (12/2163), p. 51.
,.'" William Manchester, Po+t:J;-_ait of a_ Presiden.:!=. (Boston:
Little, Brown and Company, 1962, 1967), p. x. Manchester
went on to say that his book constituted journalism
because it had been "written while moving along the
advancing edge of the present. It is not definitive in any
sense u (p. x).
"", Theodore H. White, Ame+i..£.~ In Search of__.Its.!"lf. (New
York: Warner Books, 1982), pp. 1-2 •
.,,,, Ihe_l'l'Lt __I-2-.!i: i 11 P r es i d e!lL K'§'.!l!l§'.9..Y.. ( Ar ts and
Entertainment Network, 1983).
'''''' "Shores Dimly Seen," Ih.!'Lj'rogre§§Live. (January 1964), p.
3.
 435

''', Kenneth Auchinchloss, "The Kennedy Years: What

Endures?" !!!.!"'_~~~ (2/1/71>, p. 21.
,",c. Theodore H. White, "Camelot, Sad Camelot," Time
(7/3/78); excerpted £rom I~Search o£ History: A Personat
Advent~ (New York: Warner Books, 1978) •
.,'" Norman Mai ler, "Kennedy and A£ter," Neli_York [Link]:L..Q£
~9g~~ (12/26/63), reprinted in Curr~nt (January 1964), p.
14.
'"0 Gay Talese, TheLliin.9.9om and .E-h'i!'_E~.F.. (New York: Dell
Publishing Co., 1966), p. 34.
~. While historians themselves had long used newspapers
and other mediated discourse as their documentation, the
suggestion here that all members o£ the public would do so
upheld the importance o£ memories in perpetuating
assassination tales as part o£ historical record.
""" Don DeLillo, "Matters o£ Fact and Fiction," Kolli'l9.
?ton~ (11/17/88), p. 117.
:':3 Roy Rosenzweig, "Marketing the Past," in Susan Porter
Benson, et al., [Link]. the_E.<:!.st (Philadelphia: Temple
University Press, 1986), p. 43.
"". David Halberstam, Th~_Best anQ_.J;._he B:r_!.[Link].-~§.:!;. (New York:
Random House, 1972).
3B To date, only the work o£ Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. (A
Th~usan~Days (Boston: Houghton Mi££lin, 1965) has been
accepted as that o£ a "bona £ide" historian, and this was
despite the £act that the popular historians provided an
extensive record o£ Kennedy's administration, i£ not o£
his death. See in particular Theodore Sorensen, Th~
~e~~~L~£l~~ (New York: MacMillan, 1969); William
Manchester's Portrait 0£..._<:!._Presid~.!2~ (Boston: Little,
Brown and Company, 1962, 1967) or David Halberstam, Ih~.
?..§'s~..!l.Q the Brightest (New York: Random House, 1972).
Other accounts o£ Kennedy's Presidency"" such as Pierre
Salinger's With Kennedy (New York: Doubleday, 1966) or
Theodore White's Am!",rica .in Search o£ Itsel£ (New York:
Warner Books, 1982) could still be labelled journalistic
chronicles, in that their writers consider themselves
reporters, despite their £ledging attempts at historical
interpretation.
3G For a discussion o£ Aries, see Hutton, 1988. For
Braudel, see Fernand Braudel, Q.!LJiisto:r..v. (Chicago:
University o£ Chicago Press, 1980).
'<7 Pierre Nora, "Between Memory and History: k.§Os 1,.i~.1!.li._SL~
!'ie1"oiJ;:e," [Link] (Spring 1989), p. 13.
3 S Murray G. Murphey, 1973, p. 11.
""'" Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., A""J:.h.Q.!1s.~nQ._D"!.Y..'" (Boston:
Houghton Mi££lin, 1965); Theodore Sorensen, K§nneqy. (New
York: Harper and Row, 1965).
4 0 Still another alternate mode o£ historiography was
represented by !\,mer_ica-'LJ:L~J;:. j,.:!:..~g_~ magazine, which was
 435

heralded as the successful application of photojournalism

techniques to history. Like other forms of historiography,
the magazine signified a mood of transition when it began
to accomodate contemporary topics and abandoned the
chronological emphasis of its predecessors (Rosenzweig,
1985, pp. 39, 44).
<,., This included Mary McGrory, "And Did You Once See
Kennedy Plain?" America (9/18/55); Meg Greenfield, "The
Kiss and Tell Memoirs," The Reporte'O. <11/30/57); and
"Peephole Journalism," Commonweal (9/3/55).
'+'" "The Presidency: Battle of the Book," Lime <12/23/55),
p. 18.
<,,, Mary McGrory," And Did You Once See Kennedy Plain?"
ft~~ica (9/18/55), p. 279.
<,<, Meg Greenfield, "The Kiss and Tell Memoirs," The
Reporter (11/30/67). Greenfield held that the memoirs of
Kennedy's administration suffered extensively for the
over-indulgent sympathies towards Kennedy of their
chroniclers.
4 . Meg [Link], 1957, p. 15 •
..:~c-'. ibid ... p. 15.
4""7 R. Moley, "Brief, Not a History," ~e~.§...~J:~ (12/20/55),
p. 108.
'<.f3 Andy Logan, "JFK: The Stained Glass Image," tI_l)leri£a'l
tl~F_itage Magazine [August 1967), p. 753.
4·'" Ipid, p. 4.
0>'" Pierre Salinger, With Ke.!!!:!.~gy (New York: Doubleday,
1965); William Manchester, Portr~i~ of a Presid~n~
(Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1952, 1957), :rhEl....l.?_~at,.h
Qi.._sL..presigen1;,. (New York: Harper and Row, 1958); Theodore
White, In Search of-1L~st~~y (New York: Warner Books,
1978), A"l!§![Link].-Lr:!. Se~rc~",f__Itsel£ (New York: Warner
Books, 1982). This was paralleled by other attempts to wed
journalistic and historical technique. tlm!§!r~cap He~i~~~
magazine, for instance. was hailed as "the lively
offspring of the marriage of history and journalism" and
defined as "the newsmagazine of the past" [!:lj,§\tory. News 13
(February 1957), p. 26, cited in Rosenzweig, p. 323.
:'!~~. !;.dit.9..L-£w.:d Pub.!...!sll,~ (11/30/63) ... p. 6 .
•• Gay Talese, 1955, p. 34.
'"''' !!!~~Jg_;-k Times. (8/29/64), p. 45 •
•~<, Benjamin Bradlee, [Link];::§.atioll§'_.!&i t.h._J$:_~'l~.s!Y. (New York:
[Link], 1975), p. 8.
"'"' ..Ibid
__.' p • 8 .
's," John Berendt, "Ten Years Later: A Look At the Record,"
g§q~~~El.. (November 1973), p. 141.
"'"' Jack Anderson, IYho .!'!uEsL<;l;rEl.S!... JFK.: AlJjerj,. 9..!'Lr:!._.•£1.'.[Link], Saban
Productions (11/2/88).
";,, The Week We Lost,._lghn...£.. Kenn.§.9y, NBC News (1989)
 c
t~· .:..

r·.··.

437

"'." Don Delillo, Libr~ (New York: Viking Press, 1988), p.

301-
<i,Q John Connally, quoted on "The 25th Anniversary of JFK
Assassination," Nightline, ABC News (11/22/88).
~1 Halberstam, 1979, p. 407. Interestingly, similar claims
were advanced about American Heri~age magazine, which
"because of its commitment to visualizing U.S. history"
generated a different kind of historical documentation
(Rosenzweig, 1986, p. 39).
",,<' Eric Breitbart, "The Painted Mirror," in Susan Porter
Benson, et al., R~§~enting the Pa~~ (Philadelphia: Temple
University Press, 1986), p. 116.
"'''' Pierre Nora, "Between Memory and History: Les _l".;le'yL£I.5t
Memoire," R.<;!.Ereseni:,ati9.!H'!. (Spring 1989), p. 13 •
•• Eric Breitbart, 1986, p. 111.
", .. Pardon E. Tillinghast, The [Link] P"!.si:,. (Reading,
Mass: Addison-Wesley, 1972), p. 171.
,-, ,-, S te v e Be 11 , R§'.t u r..I.:l..j:._9._.Q.~_'.!).§'.1 ot: Th..§'.....}J::.K Ye"ll:§., KYW News

I
j
Productions (11/22/88).

I
I
I
1
1,
 438

CONCLUSION
 439

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ON THE ESTABLISHMENT OF JOURNALISTIC AUTHORITY

"You are, among other things, what you remember,

or believe you remember'" :1.

This study began with somewhat amorphous and

tentative thoughts on the workings of journalistic

authority. Suggested as a notion by which journalists

assume the right to present authorized versions of events

taking place in the "real" world, journalistic authority

has been approached as a dimension implicit - if hidden -

within the practices of contemporary American journalists.

Originally defined as "the ability of journalists to

authorize themselves as spokespeople for the stories they

told," journalistic authority has been given no more

precise definition in these pages. But this study has

shown that it is neither implicit, amorphous nor

tentative. Journalistic authority is found first of all in

narrative, where journalists work to uphold it in a

variety of ways. In a systematic and strategic fashion,

journalists construct themselves as authorities for events

through the stories they tell about them. This includes

both who tells such stories, how they tell them, what they

tell and do not tell. In short, journalistic authority is

 440

enacted as a narrative craft, and is crafted through

narrative £orms.

But i t does not end there. Journalists' narratives

are transported into collective memory, where they are

used as models for understanding the authoritative role o£

the journalist and journalistic community in different

ways. Capturing specific narratives within larger

discourses that signal different boundaries o£ appropriate

journalistic practice puts them in the position o£

clarifying the boundaries o£ cultural authority across

time and space. This is what Habermas, Weber and others

have called rhetorical legitimation, the ability of

speakers to legitimate, or authorize, themselves through

the stories they tell in public discourse.

Rhetorical legitimation has been shown here to work

in a Giddens-like fashion: Narratives beget authority,

that beget memories, that beget more narratives, that

beget more authority, that beget more memories. At heart

o£ this circular process are journalists. They epitomize

what Hayden White has long contended about the makers o£

historical discourse of all kinds: They produce a second-

order fiction that attends through its craft to the needs

o£ its chroniclers -.

While rhetorical legitimation gives journalists a way

to determine the appropriate parameters o£ their craft,

 441

this study has explored the £ull span o£ its workings

through one critical incident, the assassination o£ John

F. Kennedy. By examining how journalists have narratively

reconstructed their role in covering Kennedy's

assassination over time and space, these pages have

considered a rainbow o£ narrative practices by which

journalists uphold their own stature, credentials and

positioning as authorized spokespeople £or its story. By

turning tales o£ the assassination into stories about

themselves in di££erent ways, journalists generate

re£erences to their own presence in the story. Co-opting

their narratives within larger systems o£ remembering and

£orgetting across time and space additionally re£erences

the same authorized presence. Positioning and

repositioning their narratives has thus allowed

journalists to perpetuate speci£ic versions o£ their power

as cultural authorities. In such a £ashion - by situating,

authenticating, accessing and perpetuating their

assassination tales - journalists have created themselves

as an authoritative, interpretive community. They have

created journalistic authority.

This does not suggest that journalistic authority

exists in one whole form in any given narrative or memory

system. Authority exists in bits and pieces, £its and

starts. It is a synergistic construct in continual tension

 442

with its creators, never becoming embodied by one

practice. Like slices o£ a pie, parts o£ journalistic

authority exist everywhere. But without the other slices,

it exists nowhere.

I.!:tE ARGUMENT ,J:~.E;I_:IJ;I.!i;'12.

This study has traced the establishment and

perpetuation o£ journalistic authority through practices

o£ narrative adjustment that are employed by journalists.

Journalists strategically £ashion their narratives in £our

main ways, by situating them in viable contexts, basing

their tellings on real-li£e acts o£ coverage, using

technology to access them over the tales o£ other groups

o£ speakers and perpetuating them through recognizable

memory systems. Each stage in the process o£ establishing

authority is connected in synergistic £ashion with the

others. I have argued that journalistic authority is

constructed on the basis o£ three threads:

Journal istic authority emanates £rom S'E_'l.t_§.xt. This

included contextual £actors both at the time o£ Kennedy's

death and in the years that £ollowed. At the time o£ the

assassination, context included ongoing discourses about

the boundaries o£ cultural authority and historical

relevance, journalistic pro£essionalism and the nascent

medium o£ television news, and ties between journalists

and the Kennedy administration; it also included the

 443

context created by the circumstances o£ covering Kennedy's

death itsel£. Journalists used their coverage as a

springboard £or narrative reconstruction in ways that

upheld their authority. In the years that £ollowed, larger

questions about documentary process and changes in the

£orms o£ cultural authority it generated also had an

imprint on assassination retellings. They produced shi£ts

in the accessibility o£ collective memory, by which

o££icial memory was de-authorized and the lore o£

pro£essional memories, particularly o£ journalists, made

relevant. In all contexts, collective assessments about

journalism have proved crucial to the legitimation o£

journalists as an authorized presence in the assassination

story over time and space.

Journalistic authority depends on collective

memory. Journalistic authority was shown to derive £rom

memory systems, or shared ways o£ recollecting events

across time and space. Memory systems have given

journalists a way to link in with ready-made

interpretations o£ their tales. Whether through ceiebrity,

pro£essional lore or history, journalists have embedded

their assassination tales within di££erent systems o£

recollection. This has ensured e££ective ways o£

remembering the details o£ those tales. Assassination

tales not only £it the memory systems where they were
 444

embedded, but they accrued di££erent parameters o£

cultural authority to the journalists who told them.

Journalistic authority depends on n~~~~ve. The

cra£t o£ narrative brought the other two threads - memory

and context - together. Through narrative, journalists

have linked contexts about the sixties, television,

documentary questioning - with memory systems about

celebrity, professional lore, history. Narrative has

allowed journalists to connect larger discourses that were

situated outside o£ journalism with smaller developments

taking place inside it. More important, narrative has

implicitly £ocused on the people who generated it, the

journalists.

Journalists have worked these three threads together

to produce patterns o£ what I call journalistic authority.

Throughout the process they have embedded notions o£

technology and pro£essionalism that in£lect not only the

contexts and memories associated with journalistic

authority but the narratives - in £orm and content - too.

In particular, invoking di££erent con£igurations o£ space

and time has helped journalists determine the appropriate

boundaries o£ their cultural authority.

These pages have told the tale o£ how American

journalists have established themselves as authorized

spokespeople o£ the assassination story. They have shown

;Ii~.
..•
 445

how journalists have turned their retellings of the

assassination tale into stories about themselves, making

the narrative as much a story about American journalism as

about America's 34th President. The workings of

journalists" rhetorical legitimation, and their ability to

promote themselves as an independent, interpretive

community, is shown to have been forwarded by their

narratives and their systematized ways of remembering

them. Journalists have used a complex and intricate set of

practices of narrative adjustment to turn the

assassination story on angles crucial to their own self-

legitimation.

This is not to suggest that all events covered by

journalists are central to their establishment as cultural

authorities. Rather, certain events function like critical

incidents, which journalists use to display and negotiate

the appropriate boundaries of their profession. Narratives

about such events thereby embody ongoing concerns about

journalists as a professional and authoritative

interpretive community. For instance, many critical events

took place during the sixties and embodied distinctive

"sixties" perceptions·· about everyday life - its fusion

with history and historical relevance, shifting boundaries

of cultural authority, growing demands on professionalism,

a spirit of reflexivity. Ongoing definitional activity

 446

about the appropriate boundaries of ones professionalism

was thus resolved in part by invoking such issues, in that

journalists used their narratives about many events - the

assassination, space exploration, Watergate or Vietnam-

to air their concerns about history, cultural authority,

professionalism or reflexivity. Through narrative, they

have upheld and maintained their authoritative presence

within those parameters in many tales of the time.

Nor does it suggest that the Kennedy assassination

played a larger part in generating journalistic authority

than did other contemporaneous events of similar stature.

Watergate - the scandal which journalists uncovered

displayed the appropriate boundaries of investigative

journalism. Vietnam - the war which television brought

into the American home - generated questions about the

responsibilities and roles of journalists in conducting

wartime coverage. Space exploration the voyage of

discovery on which television brought American along

highlighted the boundaries of tele-visually connecting

American audiences with unknown frontiers. News-events

have given journalists different opportunities to claim

special roles through the stories they tell about them.

From alternate time periods have emerged different

critical incidents, such as the Teapot Dome Scandal or

coverage of the Falklands War. At each point in time and

 447

space, alternate critical incidents have highlighted

different issues that are central to journalism at the

time of the event's un£olding, issues that become

refracted as the event is retold. Critical incidents of

different kinds illuminate certain rules and conventions

about journalistic practice and authority over others.

They thus give journalists alternative ways in which to

discuss, challenge and negotiate boundaries of appropriate

journalistic practice. Their discussion through narrative

has allowed journalists to set up collective notions about

journalistic practice, and thereby uphold themselves as an

interpretive community.

In such a light, narratives about the Kennedy

assassination constitute one stage among many on which

journalists evaluate, challenge and renegotiate consensual

notions about what it means to be a reporter. This study

has thereby told a story of journalistic authority as i t

was crafted around one event. Journalists have used it as

a way to address changing parameters of their own

professionalism, their approaches to new technologies of

newsgathering, their role in determining historical

record, and, finally, the importance of their own memories

in establishing and perpetuating their role as cultural

authorities. In highlighting assassination tales over time

and space, they have thus attended to a number of agendas,

i
j

448

many o£ which have little to do with the events o£

Kennedy's death.

Implicit in the cra£t o£ journalistic authority were

thus distinct di££erent notions about the appropriate

shape o£ journalistic community, suggesting the degree to

which journalistic authority, as a dimension o£ mediated

discourse in everyday li£e, was relatively

unproblematized. Journalists' stories ensured entry to

certain types o£ journalists at the same time as i t barred

admittance to others. The speci£ic shape o£ community

implied by their stories raises questions about the ef£ect

of authority not on audiences but one members of the

journalistic community, and the way that jockeying £or

power among themselves has engendered certain pre£erred

versions o£ real-li£e events. In retelling the

assassination, the establishment o£ authority casts doubt

on the valid canonization o£ a central moment in American

history, largely at the behest o£ the organs o£ national

broadcast journalism.

The process o£ adjusting the £it (between what

actually happened and received narratives about
the past) is an ongoing one, subject to
continual debate and exchanges in which memory
and history may play shifting, alternately more
or less contentious roles in setting the record
straight" '"
 449

The establishment and perpetuation of journalists as

authorized spokespeople for the story of John F. Kennedy's

assassination was no small feat. The original laundering

of the assassination tale - by which i t was recast as a

story of professional triumph rather than mishap was

only the first order of reconstructive work that

journalists employed in relaying their story. Journalists'

reliance on reconstructions of their presence,

participation and memories as part of the preferred mode

of retelling was a task that required careful attention

over the 27 years since Kennedy died. The transformations

by which journalists' narratives and memories were

adjusted in accordance with larger discourses about

cultural authority were systematic, constant and

inventive. Problematic dimensions of original coverage of

Kennedy's death were erased as larger collective questions

about professionalism, technology, memory and authority

came into play. Narrative retellings of the assassination

thus took place in face of other developments that

assisted journalists in their establishment as cultural

authorities.

Realizing the craft of journalistic authority

depended first on the reasoned and simultaneous workings

of narrative in a number of different domains. In

retellings, the narrative craft of establishing and

 450

perpetuating authority was accomplished both through the

form and content o£ journalists' narratives. Form

referenced the storytelling practices that journalists

use, content the types of stories those practices embody.

Form and content in turn displayed features that were

internal - within the narrative itself - and features that

were external - existing beyond the narrative. Portrayed

graphically, the craft of journalistic authority might

look as follows:

THE CRAFT OF JOURNALISTIC AUTHORITY

FORM CONTENT
(PRACTICES OF) (STORIES ABOUT)

INTERNAL synecdoche being the first

TO EACH rearrangement being the best
NARRATIVE personalization being the only

EXTERNAL commemoration journalistic

TO EACH recycling professionalism
NARRATIVE reprinting TV technology
re-using documentary failure
retrospectives pro£essional memory

Journalists systematically and strategically incorporated

references to their authoritative presence within their

tales across all domains. Narrative strategies of

synecdoche, personalization and rearrangement helped them

adjust the internal workings of their tales in ways that

efficiently referenced their presence within them.

I
 451

Strategies o£ recycling, re-using, commemoration~

reprinting and retrospectives cued journalists and news

organizations into the most e££ective ways o£ gaining

mileage £or their tales beyond the tale's internal rhythm.

Similarly, internal issues o£ content guided journalists

in developing stories about being the £irst, best and

only, at the same time as external discourses keyed them

into issues about journalistic pro£essionalism as a mode

o£ cultural authority, the impact o£ television

technology, documentary £ailure or the importance o£

memory. In other words, journalists were able to uphold

their authoritative presence within their tales on each

dimension o£ narrative they employed, leaving little doubt

about their positioning as authoritative spokespeople.

At the same time, journalists needed to uphold their

authoritative presence as their tales were disseminated

across time and space. They did so by credentialling

themselves across varying time and space con£igurations.

These roles - o£ eyewitness, representative, investigator

and interpreter - ensured that regardless o£ their own

positioning vis a vis the assassination tale, journalists

were able to speak authoritatively about it. Fastening

journalists in authoritative roles across time and space

was £urther upheld by repairing to memory systems. Indeed,

the appeal to memory systems within retellings o£ the

l
 452

assassination tale signalled journalists' awareness o£ the

importance o£ perpetuating themselves across time and

space. Memory systems o££ered journalists alternate ways

o£ perpetuating their tales within meaning£ul systems o£

recollection. [Link] £act that di££erent memory systems have

allowed journalists to perpetuate di££erent dimensions o£

their retellings in itsel£ displays the di££erent

dimensions o£ journalistic community: Celebrity tales have

upheld the stature o£ individual journalists, pro£essional

tales the stature o£ news organizations and institutions,

historical tales the structure o£ the pro£ession and the

role o£ journalism and journalistic record in chronicling

the nation's impulses. Each has bred its own practices £or

upholding certain codes o£ knowledge over others, yet each

dimension has emerged as important £or establishing

journalists as an interporetive community. This displays

the circular workings o£ journalistic authority: Memory is

codi£ied, zed back to its codi£iers, who codi£y i t yet

again. Journalists have thereby perpetuated a tightly-knit

cycle o£ sel£-legitimation through narrative, suggesting

the central role o£ discourse in determining the

boundaries o£ community.

These pages have suggested that the e££ective

circulation o£ discourse about the Kennedy assassination

 453

depended on refracting the event through lenses of

journalistic professionalism and technology. Boundaries of

journalistic practice were considered within larger

concerns about amateurism, professionalism and technology.

The role of technology, in particular, offered journalists

alternate ways of repairing to professionalism, by helping

them to classify activities realized by loosely-defined

improvisory standards as professional, at the same time as

it gave reporters a way to establish custodianship over

memories .. Mastering the technology became almost as

important as mastering the coverage, linking cultural

authority with successful technological mastery.

This in part reflected a reordering of the functions

through which journalists have admitted the importance of

technology. Technology allowed journalists to perpetuate

old, or familiar, journalistic practices in their usage of

old media. It also allowed them to use old practices on

new media, and to develop new practices ~~. In other words,

the introduction of new technoiogies allowed them to

experiment with new modes of social and professional

interchange when using new media as well as old.

In retelling the assassination, technologies were

referenced for their function of transmission, such as

conveying in£ormation; documentation, as in providing new

means for testing evidence; and storage, as in holding

, -~
 454

onto assassination tales so that they could eventually be

retold. In order to establish their own mastery over the

tales they told, journalists often reordered these

technological functions, enmeshing them with each other.

For ex:ample~ journalists upheld their mastery over

technology by highlighting their creative usage of it, as

in Walter Cronkite's usage of new technology for re-

testing evidence on Nov~. This prevented assassination

tales from falling within the domain of tales about "great

machines" that were faceless and unmanned. Jburnalists

turned tales of unpeopled technologies into stories about

how they strategically used technology to accomplish

professional and social aims in new and improvisory ways

The fact that journalists worked the story of the

ascent of television to their favor was testament to their

persistent efforts to remain active players within the

assassination tale.

This point has been adopted in the retellings of

other events too, such as the Challenger incident, where

journalists reordered television~s functions of

documentation, storage and transmission via its recording

of events. Similarly, journalistic retellings of Vietnam

have consistently focused on the technological

sophistication by which journalists were able to record

more intrusive (and potentially more damaging) dimensions

 455

of the war. Journalists' tales of covering that story were

thus determined in large part by their relationship with

the technology of newsgathering G

All of this suggests that tales of technological

mastery are crucial for what they continue to suggest

about journalists: Reporters are portrayed as masters of

presence within their tales of the "real world," willing

and able to manipulate the technology-at-hand in the name

of professionalism. Embedded within each story of

technology is the tale of a journalist who makes i t work,

a point upholding technology's role in creating and

maintaining journalists as cultural authorities. While

certain technologies have produced more effective and

plausible stories, and have given journalists an enhanced

capacity for story-telling, tales of technological mastery

by journalists subordinate the tale to the technology by

which it is told, dislodging news from its proportional

critical import as information of the "real world,"

Technology is also important for what it has given

journalists over time. In retelling the assassination,

technology has helped journalists create archives of

memory, giving them a base and a set of indices through

which to reference their presence within their original

tales. This suggests that it has become necessary to

reference the technology in order to reference the memory.

 456

As Natalie Zemon Davis and Randolph Starn have suggested,

UWhenever memory is invoked, we should be asking

ourselves: by whom, where, in what context and about what"

This has led to tales which document the way in which

events are originally captured, producing not only a

discourse about Kennedy's death but a discourse about the

technologies which shaped its collective memories. Such a

discourse - about the record of the record - has generated

changes in commonplace understandings of history and

memory. Replaying markers in collective memory about the

assassination directly references the technologies by

which they were recorded. Through narrative, journalists

have defrosted the frozen moments of memory and made their

transmission meaningful. Their strategic and creative use

of technology has established them as active masters in

their relationship to it, allowing them to use technology

to create archives of memory in a way that consolidates

them as the assassination story's authoritative

interpreters. This pattern is also repeated in other

events, with journalists, for example, becoming a primary

repository of memories of the Vietnam war S. Journalists

thereby use transmission as a way of fleshing out the

signif'icance of storage, or memory. Technology thus

becomes important because it successfully stores

 457

in£ormation, making the memory, or storage, function of

technology equally important to its transmission function.

This in itself is a function of ultimate importance for

interpretive communities, in that it has embedded direct

re£erences to journalists within collective memory,

upholding their stature as general archivists.

The fact that it has become easier for subsequent

retellers '"
to reference archives than original documents

has turned the archives of memory, as created by

journalists and news organizations, into a mode of

documentation preferred to original documents. lis

Halbwachs maintained, "the reality of the past (was) no

longer in the past" "'. Rather, i t it in a present occupied

by American journalists, most of whom are eager to tell

their versions of the events of Kennedy's death.

Within all of these developments, journalists emerge

as the authorized spokespeople of the events whose stories

they tell. Because their ultimate organization of

narratives takes place on the archival level, making

information about the past itself archival .0 and turning

public memory into what Mary Douglas called "the storage

system for the social order" :1. :I. , their placement as

cultural authorities for a wide range of events is

ensured. Through their discussions of critical incident,

journalists are turned into archivists, or custodians,of

]
t
458

social memory. Technology has not only upheld them as

professionals in their retellings of tales, but it has

fostered a tightly-constructed view of their activities

that turns away other competitive presences. In other

words, through intricately linking pro£essionalism~

technology ~nd social memory, journalists have established

themselves not only as cultural authorities for retelling

the story of John F. Kennedy's death, but for a host of

other public events, such as retellings of Watergate or

Vietnam.

THE SHAPE OF JOURNALISTIC CQMMUNITY

The question thus remains what kind of journalistic

community is implied by assassination retellings. It is

firstly made evident by those segments of the community

that have been filtered out of retellings. Gone are most

radio journalists, who played a part in the original

coverage of Kennedy's death. Gone too are many local

reporters who assisted their national counterparts in

covering the story. Gone are those less-renowned reporters

no longer around to tell their tales. The journalists who

remain are national reporters, with an emphasis on those

employed by television. More important, those who remain

are journalists who have retained their access to the

media and who continue to possess the kind of

organizational and institutional support necessary for

 45'3

perpetuating their tales. ~e shape of journalistic

community is thus to a large degree shaped by access,

technology and medium, individual stature, and one's

position within a news organization. Journalistic

community accedes to the powerful and vocal members among

its constituents, and i t shapes stories which uphold such

boundaries. The well-known nationally-employed journalist

has been forwarded as the vanguard and prototype of the

journalistic community, led by those employed by national

television.

Equally important, journalists have used alternate

memory systems to allow for the similar shaping of

journalistic community, generating parallel categories of

who is "allowed" in and who is shunted aside. The fact

that a similar sense of community is genrated across

different memory systems - celebrity, professional lore,

and history - attests to the centrality of the three

levels of motivation with regard to retelling. These

dimensions of the individual journalist, the

organization and institution, and the structure of the

profession - figure prominently within retellings. While

they are not always compatible, those retellings which

have been given the most play over time by journalists are

constructed as upholding issues about journalistic

community that attend to all three dimensions. For

 460

example, tales about Dan Rather not only attend to his

personal career (the level o:f the individual journalist)

but also to his news organization (the

organizational/institutional level) and to the legitimacy

o:f television news in general (the level o:f the structure

o:f the pro:fession). It is thus no surprise that they are

found across all three memory systems. On the other hand,

tales which only attend to the level of the individual

journalist such as stories about the exemplary

investigative reporting of Penn Jones may not have

persisted because they attend to neither the dimension of

the organization nor basic issues central to the

profession. Each dimension is thereby configured in

negotiation with the others. This suggests that

journalists have used their discourse to address what they

see as relevant to their constitution as an authoritative

interpretive community issues ranging £rom personal

careers, to the prestige of specific news organizations,

to the structure of the profession as a whole.

For journalists invested in such an aim, levels of

the individual, organization/institution, and pro£ession

have proven a more fruitful way of retelling than stories

which emphasize the differences between press and

televi~ion reporters, or between different reportorial

roles. This is because in their stories, journalists have

 461

stressed how they have regularly and consistently crossed

lines across media, news organization and journalistic

£unction. Journalists have not only assumed roles across

media - writing books and appearing on talk shows - but

they have £unctioned as anchorpeople instead o£ reporters,

as columnists instead o£ on-the-spot chroniclers, taking

on roles that have little to do with their original

£unction in the story. They have told their tales across

media and news organization, promoting the recirculation

o£ narratives in media that are di££erent £rom the medium

where they originally worked. And £inally, their own

narratives have been £illed with re£erences to the

accounts o£ reporters in other media and other news

organizations.

Thus central to all patterns o£ cross-breeding have

been motivations o£ the individual, the

organization/institution and the pro£ession. Their

salience in retold tales has largely subordinated

distinctions generally made about di££erent kinds o£

journalistic practice to larger issues pertaining to

journalistic community. Distinctions between di££erent

kinds o£ reporters such as generalists versus

specialists, or anchorpersons versus print columnists

have emerged as secondary to the making o£ journalists as

an interpretive community that £avors the power£ul and

J
. I
 462

vocal among them. This suggests that journalists' desire

to be associated with the assassination story has

generated concerns directly relevant to the making o£

communi t.y. In so doing, journalists have eschewed

commonly-held boundaries about reportorial tasks, and have

displayed their ability to involve themselves regardless

o£ predetermined tasks, de£initional roles or

demarcations. While this has blurred distinctions between

di££erent kinds o£ reporters in retellings, it has

succeeded in outlining the communal parameters o£ the

American journalistic community. Separate motivations - o£

the individual, the organization/institution, and the

pro£ession - have provided £ruit£ul illustrations o£ the

workings o£ journalism as an authoritative interpretive

community. This does not suggest that the columnist

£unctions with the same authority as the anchorperson or

beat reporter. But that distinction has emerged in

journalists' tales as secondary to the unpacking o£

similarities which as a group they see themselves sharing

with each other.

All o£ this heralds back to the role o£ discourse in

serving a ritual £unction £or journalists. It provides a

locus by which journalists can come together as a

community but in ways not necessarily heralded by

£ormalized pro£essional codes. While not the only event to

 463

do so, the assassination tale has given journalists

reason, cause and means through which to realize and

articulate the shi£ting boundaries o£ their community.

Discourse serves as an antidote to problems and issues o£

concern to members o£ the pro£ession.

There is reason to assume that a similar pattern

exists with other groups o£ speakers involved in public

discourse. The shape o£ journalistic community was shown

here to have emerged through discourse that extended

beyond the journalistic community, displaying its

similarities to other groups that validate themselves

through their rhetoric. This suggests that the shape o£

journalistic community is in part determined through its

resemblances to other groups o£ public speakers, many o£

them non-pro£essional. For larger questions o£ cultural

authority, it is thus in the inter£aces across social and

cultural groups that the signi£icance o£ authority

ultimately rests.

Such a point bring this discussion back to the

£unction o£ narrative. These pages have £orwarded the view

that journalists use narrative to uphold their position

and stature as an authoritative, interpretive community.

Two alternate points comprise this notion: One is that

 464

journalists £unction as an interpretive community,

authenticating itsel£ through its narratives. The second

is that authority has ritual dimensions, designed to

consolidate journalists into a cohesive group. Both points

hint at how public speakers might use narrative to

establish collective understandings o£ themselves as

cultural authorities. Authority not only helps speakers

consolidate themselves into an independent interpretive

community, but it helps them remember events in a way that

enhances their collective dignity as pro£essionals

Was the tale o£ covering the body o£ John F. Kennedy

a unique event £or American journalists? On one level, i t

appears to have been both extreme and unpredictable: Its

circumstances o£ coverage were characterized by

unpredictability, novelty and unexpectedness. It

constituted an archetypal example o£ what Tuchman called

""what a story."' Journalists were £orced to employ

practices!' such as improvisation or relying on instinct,

in ways which allowed them to re-assert their control over

the event's unpredictability.

Yet beyond actual coverage, the patterns o£ retelling

the event over time and space suggest that the

assassination tale was not as unique an event as

journalists have ascribed i t to be. Through narrative,

"covering the body" o£ John F. Kennedy has been turned

 465

into a manageable occurrence. While the mere presence or

patterns or narrative retelling and memory suggest that

journalists were not strangers to events or its type,

journalists~ narratives have in errect reinstated their

control over the assassination story. This suggests that

even ir journalists were ·set back by the unique

circumstances of the assassination coverage, they used

ramiliar and agreed-upon practices to construct the story

as a routine news tale. Such a construction was necessary

ror them to establish their own presence as cultural

authorities in its retelling. More important, narratives

about the assassination have helped journalists make sense

or themselves as a proressional interpretive community.

This suggestion that journalistic authority is

maintained by instating control through narrative that

journalists lose through coverage - is disturbing, largely

because journalists' narrative strategies have been

studiously avoided in models or journalistic proressional

practice. The ract that journalists use narrative to make

sense or the one type or incident least explained by media

researchers - the event Tuchman called "what a story" -

suggests that journalists have generated their own

rolkloric ways or interpreting their boundaries as

proressionals. They have chosen to make sense or

insurriciently-addressed codes or practice, knowledge and

 466

memory through discourse. This suggests the existence of a

viable community involved in constant interpretive

activity about its own boundaries of action. It also

underscores the failure of formalized standards of

professional practice to sufficiently address all kinds of

journalistic practice, a failure which has generated

certain events as critical incidents for journalism

professionals.

This highlights the communal, collective dimensions

of journalistic retellings. Journalists use their

narratives to address dimensions of performance that have

been overlooked by more formal socializing agents,

underscoring their need to address such issues through

discourse. In so doing, they function as interpretive

communities, relying as much on their tales for group

authentication as on the more formal features that define

boundaries of appropriate practice. Discourse about

critical incidents thus address a lack in the formal

conventions by which journalists are coached into the

pro£ession, allowing them to air professional concerns by

strategically revitalizing certain events through tailored

stories. The formal features of their constitution as an

interpretive group is thereby bolstered through informal

discursive practice. Narratives give journalists stages

where they can rethink the hows and whys of the profession
 467

at a number o£ points in time and space, according to

their own agendas about what is important.

Thus in answer to the original question that

motivated this study what makes journalists better

equipped than others to o:f:fer a "pre:ferred" version o:f

events? the response rests within journalists' own

[Link]. Journalists themselves perpetuate the sense

that their version o:f reality is a pre:ferred one. By

codi:fying their versions o:f li:fe in repetitive and

systematized mediated narratives, they place themselves

ahead o:f other potential retellers. They turn contests :for

the construction o:f reality into a one-horse race, by

narratively attending to critical events that uphold their

authority. This retains journalists as ultimate masters o:f

their destiny as pro:fessionals and public speakers,

allowing them to attend through narrative to those

incidents which they :feel mast [Link]tively reveal the

parameters o:f appropriate practice.

This does not suggest that transmission is irrelevant

to the larger picture o:f establishing cultural authority.

Authority, ultimately, is realized through transmission.

But :for speakers seeking to establish themselves as the

authoritative spokespeople o:f the events they report, the

implication o:f transmitting in:formation o:ften becomes

secondary to the way that in:formation is turned back on

 458

the group which generates it. In retelling the

assassination, journalists have used transmission of the

assassination story as much for what i t means to audiences

as for how it has been shared by journalists. This

suggests the extent to which the function of community is

critically embedded within the routinized relay of news

<l
narrative. It also highlights how individuals and groups

can master and manipulate the technology they use when

communicating, to address aims that bear little relevance

to the efficacy of their transmissions.

The embedding of "narrati ves of ritual"' wi thin "acts

of transmission" thereby highlights the real workings of

cultural authority in discourse. Through narrative,

speakers set up an extensive self-referential discourse

through which they address, air, challenge, negotiate and

alter the parameters of their practice as speakers.

Authority is used as a marker of collective practice,

delineating for other members of the group the parameters

of what is appropriate and preferred. Within such

boundaries, speakers find their place for retelling a

variety of events.

This suggests a view of authority as a construct

anchored within community, generating "a self portrait

that unfolds through time ... and allows the group to

recognize itself through the total succession of images"

 469

which i t generates Authority thus not only plays a

central part in authorizing acts o£ transmission but in

legitimating narratives o£ ritual. It constitutes a tool

by which collectives o£ speakers uphold themselves as

viable and authoritative interpretive groups.

FH~LQRICAL LEGITIMATION_~~D CU~TURAL AUTHORITY

The establishment and perpetuation o£ authority

through narrative as an implicit dimension o£ maintaining

community recalls the theoretical importance attributed to

rhetorical legitimation earlier in this study. The

reconstructive work by which speakers shape their

retellings o£ the events o£ the "real world" in certain

ways and not others constitutes an important dimension o£

how it works. The ability to shape collective visions o£

onesel£ as an independent interpretive community through

narrative recalls claims by Habermas, Weber and others,

that underscore the legitimating £unction with which

speakers embellish their communicative messages. In this

study, journalists have been shown to emerge as one group

among many, which use narrative as an act o£ rhetorical

legitimation.

But legitimation is not a one-an-one exercise between

a speaker, and his or her tale. Rather, it involves the

invocation o£ an intricate network o£ patterns o£

collective memory. Narratives about one incident rein£orce

 470

each other; narratives about different incidents uphold

narratives about other incidents, with speakers applying

the authority accrued from retelling one event to stories

of another. This application of Giddens' notion of

structuration, and the circular recycling of information

it implies, suggests that the creation of a collective

lore through codified knowledge depends on the positioning

of agreed-upon discursive stages through which to air

concerns about practice. Rhetorical legitimation, as a

strategy, is thus shown to be circular in nature, leaning

back on the community which originally sets it in motion.

Rhetorical legitimation is used by speakers to make larger

questions about authority in discourse explicit, clear-cut

and manageable. This is made possible not only by the

internal adjustments within each and every tale of

critical incidents, but by the positing of adjustment as a

legitimate mode of constructing reality. In other words,

rhetorical legitimation underscores basic assumptions

about the latitude allowed speakers in all kinds of public

discourse.

ON CULTURAL A~THORITY~ __MEMORY ANP COMMVNITY

This study has suggested that cultural authority

emerges through a circular system of practices which

codify knowledge across time and space. Such a

perspective, welding the perspectives of Durkheim, Giddens

 471

and Halbwachs, has been examined through one practice-

that of narrative. While "the function of narrativity in

the production of the historical text" '.',. bears its own

impulses,. this analysis suggests that it constitutes a

viable and effective way for speakers to position and

uphold themselves as authorities in culture.

The workings of authority in discourse across time

and space results from an unequal concentration of power

in the hands of those with routinized media access. This

study has shown that particularly in the workings of

public discourse, authority is tied in with media

practices. Both the establishment of individuals and

groups as authorities and the perpetuation of that status

are directly dependent on media access, particularly as i t

plays across time and space. Media provide speakers with

effective mechanisms on which to display their authority -

both to themselves and others. This has most directly

benefitted journalists, by helping them recycle among

themselves collective codes of knowledge about what makes

them an authoritative interpretive community.

Clifford Geertz long ago forwarded a notion of

knowledge that held it to be firmly situated within

practice. He said,. "If you want to understand what a

science is, you should look at what the practitioners of

it do" "~. Geertz's comments are enlightening here because

 472

they underscore the importance o£ practice in determining

the boundaries o£ cultural authority. This study's

emphasis on the real £lesh-and-blood people behind what

Christopher Lasch has termed the "assassination mythology"

;L(.':;'
suggests that an extensive network o£ strategic

practices has put the mythology into place. Yet in so

doing;> those £lesh-and-blood people have not only given

li£e to the assassination tale. They have given li£e to

their own authority to act as spokespeople £01' Kennedy's

death. More important, they have given li£e to their

authority £or new generations o£ onlookers, who will adopt

their versions o£ both the tales they tell and the

appropriate parameters o£ journalistic practice and

authority which such tales embody.

The implications o£ this analysis - o£ culture and

cultural authority as an "acted document" :1.7

raise

questions about the legitimate workings o£ cultural

authority in all kinds o£ public mediated discourse. They

generate questions about the mechanisms by which other

public speakers legitimate themselves through their

stories. Why certain individuals and groups are

legitimated as spokespeople £01' events over others depends

on an intricate network o£ strategic practices by which

they codi£y knowledge and use i t to realize collective

gains. This suggests that speakers o£ all sorts

 473

systematically and routinely borrow from the codes of

other groups in legitimating themselves. In a sense, then,

authority is realized by mechanisms for recycling

knowledge not only across members of a group but across

members of many groups.

This does not suggest an elimination of the construct

of professionalism for examing the American journalistic

community. But it does underscore a number of similarities

shared by journalists and other communities of public

speakers, not necessarily professional ones. It also

emphasizes yet an additional force among speakers who

legitimate themselves through their rhetoric - community.

Speakers consolidate themselves as independent

authoritative communities because their discourse keeps

them together. Acting as an interpretive community,

speakers authenticate themselves through the interplay of

narrative, memory and authority which make their stories

credible, repeatable and memorable. A drive to keep their

community intact motivates them to look within themselves

for the legitimacy by which they can authenticate their

actions, practices and values.

This study has thereby shown that the rhetorical

legitimation of journalists has generated its own origin

narratives about American journalism. Retelling the

incidents that are critical to the American journalistic

 474

community constitutes an exemplary case of the circular

codi£ication o£ knowledge, by which speakers have

strategically authenticated themselves as cultural

authoritities. This suggests that group consolidation

through discourse does not only £unction as a ritual o£

community and commonality. Rather, discourse also

£unctions as a ritual o£ continuity, guiding and directing

speakers into their own £uture as members o£ groups

constantly engaged in authoritative interpretation o£

events o£ the "real world."

" Lance Morrow, "0£ l1yth and Memory," Iim_~ (10/24/88), p.

22.
'" Hayden White, ", Figuring the Nature o£ the Times
Deceased': Literary Theory and Historical Writing," in
Ra 1 ph Cohen, Ihe_...E.J!.tuL'iL o£ .J,...! te~LY.._Ihe9LY. (New York:
Routledge, 1989), p. 27.
'" Natalie Zemon Davis and Randolph Starn, "Introduction,"
Repr_esent.§'tion_I!;. (Spring 1989), p. 5.
<,. See Carol yn l1arv in, \;'hen....Qld _T.§[Link]§..jII..§'re-.!'!..~."L (New
York: Ox£ord University Press, 1988).
5 A similar situation is discussed in Carolyn Marvin's
"Experts, Black Boxes and Arti£acts: News Categories in
the Social History o£ Electric Media" [in Brenda Dervin et
al., Rethinki~Qpmmunica~ion_jL~~~_paragigm E~~~Rla~
(London: Sage, 1989), pp. 188-198), where Marvin discusses
the ways in which social exchange is improvised with the
introduction o£ news media.
E. Edward J. Epstein discusses this point in fsol!!"J,:act_to.
[Link]:J;.ion (New York: Vintage Books, 1974).
i
7 Davis and Starn, 1989, p. 2.
a This point is made in Peter C. Rollins, "The American
War: Perceptions Through Literature, Film and TeleVision,"
~.meJ;'ican QU.!;Lrte;,J,y 3 (1984), pp. 419-432. I
<'" l1aurice Halbwachs, Th<e...s;f!lJ,ective_MeJ!!9£Y.. (New York: I
Harper and Row, 1980), p. 7.
10 The notion of archival memory is discussed in Pierre il
Nora, "'Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Memoire,1I II
ReE"_~.§§l!l..t.§.t:i,.f!.!:!.§ (Spring 1989), p. 13. Also see Hayden 'I
White, 1989, p. 20. II
Ii
,

I
I~
 475

•• Mary Douglas, !:!ow _ InstiJ.:.utj,..Q.!l§L Thi'1.l:5. (Syracuse:

Syracuse University Press, 1986), p. 70 .
•• This idea is found in Barry Schwartz, Yael Zerubavel
and Bernice Barnett, "The Recovery of Masada: A Study in
Collective Memory," The Sociologi<;;al Quarterly 2 (1986),
p. 149.
13 Halbwachs, 1980, p. 86.
<" The term comes from Hayden White, 1989. p. 21.
,.'" Clifford Geertz, ""Thick Description: Toward An
Interpreti ve Theory of Culture," in The Interpretatj,g.n of
g~l~~_~ (New York: Basic Books, 1973), p. 5.
'E. Christopher Lasch, "The Life of Kennedy's Death,"
!:!a~~ (October 1983), pp. 32-40.
' 7 Geertz, p. 10.
 476

APPENDIX A

METHODOLOGICAL APPENDIX

This study has posited journalistic authority as an

"ideal-type", a perspective common to certain kinds of

sociological studies". By examining different stages or

arenas which together give a fuller sense of the patterns

through which notions of journalistic authority were

expected to emerge, i t suggested a theoretically unified

perspective that was empirically eclectic. Other work has

been done in a similar fashion: Eviatar Zerubavel's work

on time adopted a similar approach, as did Erving

Goffman's on forms of talk ~ Both have utilized what

Glaser and Strauss call "strategically-chosen examples" to

illuminate theoretical concepts Although this

methodology does not aim to provide an all-inclusive or

conclusive picture of the theoretical construct being

examined, it has provided a clearer picture of the major

patterns by which it can be expected to emerge. Therefore,

by examining the establishment of journalistic authority

via different kinds of public published discourse - both

professional and mediated across time, the study

provides a clearer picture of some of the central patterns

by which journalistic authority emerges and is

perpetuated.
 477

This study has employed diachronic textual analysis

in order to elicit both tacit and explicit notions o£

journalistic authority. Narratives were examined in two

main arenas:

1) Mediated discourse about journalism (or, how

journalists talk with the general public about their

coverage o£ the assassination). This includes mass

mediated accounts through which both the original coverage

o£ the assassination as well as discussions about the role

o£ journalists in covering i t were £ound. It also includes

accounts o£ the assassination and media criticism o£ how

those accounts were handled. This discourse was £ound in

press and television accounts, sequel led memoirs in

magazines, and biographies. The analytical £ocus rests

with how journalists discussed their own role o£ media

coverage.

2) Pro£essional discourse about journalism (or, how

journalists talk to other journalists about journalistic

coverage o£ the Kennedy assassination). This discourse, in

which journalists talk to themselves about themselves, was

£ound in the trade press, published speeches, pro£essional

journalism reviews and the proceedings o£ various

pro£essional meetings or conventions in which the Kennedy

assassination was discussed. The concern here was with the

ways in which journalists talked to their peers about

 478

their role or the role of others in covering the

assassination story.

Yet a third area which comprises a less central focus

than originally intended is instructional discourse. This

area whose discourse is found in textbooks, how-to

manuals and other published guidelines for new journalists

was generally discarded from the study due to the

voluminous quantity of material in the other two areas.

However it was used when references to the assassination

story were particularly salient.

These arenas o£ discourse were spanned over a period

of 27 years, from 1963 to 1990. Such a time-span extended

from the Kennedy assassination itself (November 22, 1963)

to two years after the 25th anniversary of Kennedy's

death. Public discourse about the role of journalists in

covering the assassination story was explored via

contemporaneous citations about journalistic practice and

ethics, which were found in a number of public affairs

indices.

The public affairs indices and which were scanned

between 1963 and 1990 for this study included:

- New York Times Index

- Washington Post Index
- Current Guide to Periodical Literature
- Vanderbilt Archives
- CBS Archives
 479

- NBC Archives

The trade press was scanned through the following

periodicals:

- Columbia Journalism Review

- Washington Journalism Review
- Editor and Publisher
- Broadcasting
- The Quill

The proceedings of various professional associations were

also surveyed, including:

- Sigma Delta Chi

- NANE (National Association of Newspaper Editors)
- NAB (National Association of Broadcasters)

Other institutions which lent support in the collecting of

documentary materials included:

- John F. Kennedy Memorial Library

- Sherman Grinburg Library
- Journal Graphics, Inc.
- ABC News Transcripts
- Investigative News Group

• See Max Weber, ~~~.~; Select!2n§ in~~~~~~ti£n

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978) or George
Simmel, I.!:l_'i!L SocioJd';>.9Y-2.f.....§eorge [Link] (New York: The Free
Press, 1950).
"Eo See Eviatar Zerubavel' s !:!igg~B.![Link],!!'§' (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1981). Also see Erving
Goffman, fo~_f Ta_~~ (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 1981).
:~ Barney Glaser and A. Strauss, I.J:>.§!_.Di'!£.';?Y,g...Y......Q.:(_£.'F_9..lJn<;led
T_he,ory (New York: Aldine, 1967).
 480

REFERENCES

REFERENCES RELATED TO KENNEDY AND KENNEDY ASSASSINATION

I. NEWSPAPER AND JOURNAL ARTICLES

"'A Decade o£ Unanswered Questions," B,'!:!,!!l'p'~,-t,§, 12, (December

1973), pp. 42-4.

"A Great President'! Experts Size Up JFK," 1!. S~_N_~~~~'l..cl.

!&.f>±:[Link].B§!"p'or 1;, <11121 183), p. 51.

II A Primer o£ Assassination Theor ies ~ Ii ;:~g.Y.~t;r..§M (December

1966), pp. 205-210.

"'A Shadow Over Camelot," !iill1_s.;~,§!ek. (12/29/75).

"A Year A£ter the Assassination: The U,S. Recalls John F.

Kennedy," l'Ie.\:!.§,.",e§.!5. (11/30/64), pp. 26-7.

"'A World Listened and Watched"' (Special report),

Broaqs-,~,.§.tj,.!!.9, (12/2/63), pp. 36-58.

Allen, Henry, "JFK: The Man and the Maybes," ~sLs4J..!1...[Link].

P.2..§.:!=,
(11 122/88), p. E2.

"And Then I t Was November 22 Again," ~,§!~.§.we",~, (11/30/64),

pp. 25-28.

Ascoli, Max, "'The 22nd o£ November" (Editorial), I.h'it

R§P_~±:~~_~ 29 (12/5/63), p. 19.

Ascoli, Max, "Our New President" (Editorial), Th_§!__li"tl2..QE.1;..~.:r..

29 (12/19/63), p. 14.

liThe Assassination," gO±_l:!.![Link]..§LM.;r,9urn~1.A§l!l__R.§YJ~~. (Winter

1964) •

"Assassination - History or Headlines?" !i§.~§~~.ek

(3/13167), p. 13.

1IAssassination - Behind Moves to Reopen JFK Case, u ~L~E...!_

!i..E2..'i§....'!:!.Dd Wo.,-!.g...B~l?.9 r 1;, ( 6/2/75), pp • 30 - 3 •

"Assassination: History or Headlines?" ~§!.~§!&_""ek. (3/13/67),

pp. 44-7.
 481

"The Assassination: A Week in the Sun," H~w.§.."!§!,§'_15_

(2/24/64), pp. 29-30.

"At Issue: Judgment By Television," Columbia JO,!!.'O:nab.J...§ll!.

B~i§w (Winter 1964).

Auchinchloss, Kenneth, "The Kennedy Years: What Endures?"

H~ws_w.e~~ (2/1/71), p. 21.

Berendt, John, "Ten Years Later: A Look at the Record,"

)::sJL1dJ"l':."'_ 80 (November 1973), pp. 140+.

"Birch View o:f JFK," !'I_~"L",~§'ek (2/24/64), pp. 29-30.

Blake, Richard A., "Two Moments o:f Grie:f," !:\!Jl§!!,i"',!i!. 129

(11/24/73), pp. 402-4.

Bluem, A. William, "Looking Ahead: The Black Horse"

(Editorial), I.§.1e..Yl.§ll,g_!!...Qu.§!rt..."';E.l-.Y 111:1, (Winter
1964), pp. 84-87.

Boeth, Richard, "JFK: Visions and Revisions," N..!"..l4_"!_"!§,'§,h.

(11/19/73), p. 92.

Booretin, Daniel, uJFK: His Vision,. Then And Now, II !L!-~...l'_

!'I ew§.",".§!n.9...J!LQ_LJ.,..~L.B..!""'p_9_Lt. (10 / 24 I 88), P • 30 •

Brackman, Jacob, "Shock Waves From the Baby Boom," E"'-9Ei... E"'_
99 (June 1983).

Branch, Taylor, "The Ben Bradlee Tapes: The Journalist as

Flatterer," !:@D?...E§!£~_ Magazine 251 (October 1975), pp.
36-45.

Brucker, Herbert, "When the Press Shapes the News,"

Sato.!!.rdaLE§'...Y.;i"§',,,!_ 47 (1/11/64), pp. 75-85.

Bruning, Fred, "The Grie:f Has Still Not Gone Away".

!:!acL"'..§Lz:!,.',,§I. (11/28/88), p. 13.

"Camelot Censured," !'Ie~l:'_eek (11/3/66).

"Camelot on Tape," IJm~. (714183), p. 122.

"Camelot Revisited" (Editorial), The ..lLation 237

(11/19/83), pp. 483-4.

"Can You Believe That 20 Years Have Passed," 1'::2rQ..E§!_§.

(12/5/83).
 482

Carleton, William G., "Kennedy in History: An Early

Appraisal," !\E.1J.o~J:!ey.!§!.Si 24 (Fall 1964).

"CBS Replays November 22," !iew X.9Xk_'Ll,..'!'.§'.§. (11/17/88), p.

B3.

lIeaver Ups and Conspiracies: A Unique Investigation into

the Dark Side of the Kennedy Legend," R.~Y.§'.!§.tions" 1
(Summer 1988).

"The Dallas Rejoinder, II IJ.!.§L~Jatiq.D.. 198 (5/25/64), p. 519.

"The Dark Side of Camelot," P',§,.212..L~ (2/29/88), pp. 106-114.

Delillo, Don, "Matters of Fact and Fiction," R.9_l1in.s..lij:.oJl..§.

(11/17/88).

Delillo, Don, "American Blood: A Journey Through the

Labyrinth of Dallas and JFK," Bollil}..9...1?tone
(12/8/83), pp. 21-28.

"Did the Mob Kill JFK?" Li"IJL'l!. (11/28/88), p. 42.

Donner, Frank, "The Assassination Circus: Conspiracies

Unlimi ted," J'h§!"_"N""tion,, 237 (12/22/79), pp. 483-658.

Elfin, Mel, "Beyond the Generations," U •.'2..,_..Ji§'.~_'~L,§!n.fl_WoE1..O::!.

BepqE~ (10/24/88).

Ephron, Nora, IITwelve Years on the Assassination Beat,"

g,§5!.uit:.~ 85 (February 1976), pp. 58-62.

Epstein, Edward J., IIGarrisonli (lIl\ Reporter at Large"

Column), J'h§!.......N,,~,,_York~E 44 (7/13/68), pp. 35-81.

Fairlie, Henry, "Camelot Revisited," !iarE.."l,E~"§, 246 (January

1973), pp. 67-78.

Fensterwald, Bernard, "Ten Years Later: A Legacy of

Suspicion," );§5!1!,,!.:r.'t 80 (November 1973), pp. 141-3.

"The Fine Print," §Qy (debut issue November 1964;

reprinted November 1989).

Gamarekian, Barbara, "Hundreds Are in Capital for 25th

Remembrance," !'Ie.l:L Yq:r"k T [Link]'l!§" (11/22/88).

Goldman, Peter, "Kennedy Remembered," !'!ew..sw,e",-Ii (11/28/83).

 483

Goldman, Peter, "A Shadow Over Camelot," Ne~.~",.§.i5.

(12/29/75), pp. 14-6.

Grady, Sandy, "JFK: A Look Back," phiJadell2hj~Daj~l.Y.. Ne~_",.

(11/22/88), p. 5.

Greeley, Andrew M .. , I'Leave John Kennedy in Peace,"

f..hr ;"§.i,,.d. an...£.§!!' t L!!'...Y. <11 12117 3) •

Green£ield, Meg, "The Way Things Really Were," Ne_"!s~..§.,,,.!s.

(11/28/88), p. 98.

Green£ield, Neg, "The Kiss and Tell Hemoirs," [Link].§!p.or1::,.e<:.

37 (11/30/67), pp. 14-9.

Halberstam, David, "President V ideo," £sgu,tL8.. 85 (June

1976) pp. 94-7.

Hamill, Pete, "JFK: The Real Thing," !'lew_York Nagazine

(11/28/88), pp. 44-51.

Hart, Je££rey, "Harilyn and Bobby and Jack: Camelot

Follies," N.~':!=":j,g.nal__ B.e..vi.§.'i (8/19/88), pp. 38-39.

Hayden, Casey, "The Movement," in !t!i.:!=..Qe..ss. (II,2/3,

SummerlFal1 1988).

Henry, William A. III, "The Meaning o£ TV," !,.i£_e... (Harch

1989).

"High Pro£ile: Ike Pappas," p.h1.1§!de1..2.l!i~J;1.:lliy'ireL_Na9."!.?j..!"!.§!.

(9/10/89), p. 8.

HincJ<le, Warren III, "The Nystery o£ the Black Books,"

&..sgu..i..;:e 79 (April 1973), pp. 128-31+.

"Historians Lost in the Nidst o£ Camelot," h9.s A!l9.§.;Le..§.

Li,.!!l.!'"-§. (10/21/88), sec. i, p. 1.

Howard, Jane, "Do You Remember the Day JFK Died?" !"_<:!.sLies
Hg_m..§•...,;rou.;r..!}~.J.. (November 1983), p. 114.

"Icons: The Ten Greatest Images o£ Photojournalism," I..i..~"'.

(Fall 1989).

"In Camelot, They Taped A Lot," !'!§'wsw",.ek (2/15/82).

"JFK and a Tribute to TV," \i!:!sh.!.!lS.!;gnl'os.t. (11/23/88), p.

A2.
 484

"JFK and the Mobsters' Noll," LL"!.'?. (12/29/75).

"JFK/NLK: Is There Nore to the Story?" P_'?.!:!j,g_L_ Sct,.!?l§!.§J:;JS.

109 (11/18/76), pp. 9-13.

"JFK: Re£lections A Year Later," hA..:fe (11/20/64), p. 4.

"JFK: Ten years later" (Special section), :rJ:l.§LClg:j,..§tJ~'l.

g§..!:!.J:;.,,_:r;...Y. 42 (11/21/73), pp. 1138-51.

"JFK: The Death and the Doubts," !i§!.ws_'!i..~<e...ls. (12/5/66), pp.

25-29.

"JFK: The Truth is Still At Large," New_I4-_lJl..!!,_,,!. (4/18/75).

"John F. Kennedy Memorial Edition," (Reprint o£ 1963

issue) 1"i£§!. [November 1988 (December, 1963)].

"John Fitzgerald Kennedy" (Special section), ~ew§~els.

(12/2/63), pp. 15-53.

"John Kennedy's Death: The Debate Still Rages," 1!..-'...e..::.N§!li§.

;;tl}A.._\II_orl(LRep-g.l;:~ (11/21/83), pp. 49-52.

Johnson, Gerald W., "The Birth o£ a Nyth," 9urreni;,.

[January 1964; reprinted £rom "Once Touched By
Romance," Th§_._..~"§!li...._RE!publi..9. (12/7/63)].

Kaiser, Charles, "The Selling o£ a Conspiracy," R9_t.!. L'l9.

P..E,_S''!:!.''!. (4/16/81>.

Kaplan, Peter and Paul Slansky, "Golden Noments,"

gonngi~<e...u~ (September 1989).

Kennedy, Jacqueline, "These Are The Things I Hope Will

Show How He Really Was," ;"i:f_"!. 56 (5/29/64), pp. 32-8.

Kopkind, Andrew, "JFK's Legacy," I.h.§!ya:t;.[Link].. (12/5/88), p.

589.

Kra£t, Joseph, "Portrai t o£ a President," .

!:!~ :l::B.§!:r;..:'_§.. 228
(January 1964), pp. 96-100.

Lasch, Christopher, "The Li£e o£ Kennedy's Death,"

Har..E.§!E..:'§.. 267 <October 1983), pp. 32-40.

Leuchtenburg, William E., "John F, Kennedy, Twenty Years

La t e r ," !:\..mE!.Lt9"§'.!L..!:!_"!.:r;.A.t...,!,...9_§!..._M..;;t9_§.~J-,).§!. (Dec em ber 1 983) •
 485

"The Life and Death of John F. Kennedy," Q.!!E.E.§.g1. (January

1964).

Logan, Andy, "JFK: The Stained Glass Image," b1"~.ric~!l

!1§E.;h:t aq §Ll!319§_:;;l. n§'o (A u gu s t 1967).

Mailer, Norman, "Enter Prince Jack," Esquire. 99 [(November

1983), pp. 204 -6 (Excerpted from Sl,lJ2§,.I.:..l(l~!L.S;.[Link]§..S_-LQ.
tl>e_.§[Link]!..:tt,-"E.t.. November, 1960) l.

Hailer, Norman, "Kennedy and '~fter," !'i.'t'::1.."y_oJ::J:<_I3§.Yi!~!.'::1._9.:f..

B~o~§. (12/26/63), reprinted in CUI.:..:t~!:!~ (January
1964) •

Mannes,. l1arya, "The Long Vigil," Ih.§_B.§1?.9.:t.E&:t. 29

(12/19/63), pp. 15-17.

"The Marxist Marine," Ne.\4_~~.§'_§'!5. (12/2163), p. 27.

Matza, Michael, "Five Still Probing the JFK Killing," Tl,.§.

PJ.L:i,.l§..9.§J..phA.!LIgq!!.!..r e !:. (11 1 22 1 8 8), P • 8E •

Mayer, Mi 1 ton, "November 22, 1963," :The Prog£~§..,?:i,.y_~. 28

(December 1964), pp. 21-25.

l'IcGrory, Mary, "You Had To Be There to Know the Pain,"

Wash!.'.[Link].J.'.Qst. (11/20/83), p. Flo

McGrory, Mary, "And Did You Once See Kennedy Plain?"

bm§'x.:h.s~. 113 (9/18/65), p. 279.

McGrory, Mary, "After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling .....

Amer_~£§. 109 (12/14/63), p. 764.

11cMillan, Priscilla, "That Time \ve Huddled Together," New

Y.9.!:lLTim~§. (11/22/73), p. 37.

MinniS, Jack and Staughton Lind, "Seeds of Doubt: Some

Questions About the Assassination," T.!:t'§...N§,_VL.Rep_t!'!?J,.!E.
(12/21/63) •

Maley, Raymond, "Lasky's Estimate of JFK," N~w§J!I'§.'i'.~.

(9/16/63).

Maley, Raymond, "Brief, Not a History," N.§.!&-';;..'::1..~.!".!5.

(12/20/65) •

"The Moments You Can Never Forget," TV J;;.!d.!.~.§' (5/6/89).

 486

Morley, Je££erson, "Camelot and Dallas: The Entangling

Kennedy Myths," T.b~....N-",.i;,ig.!:!. (12/12/88), pp. 646-9.

Morrow, Lance, "Imprisoning Time in a Rectangle,'" Iim.s:,

(Fall 1989), p. 76.

Morrow, Lance, "0£ Myth and Memory," Til~~ (10/24/88), p.

22.

Morrow, Lance, "A£ter 20 Years, the Question: How Good A

President?" T~.I]!~ (11/14/83), p. 58.

l1uggeridge, Malcolm, "Books" (Column), !i~l!..j..!'..§:. 66 (October

1966), pp. 14-5.

"New Challenges: 1950-80," Jilli..~. (Fall 1989).

"November 22, 1963: Where We Were" (Special section),

~.~opl~ (11/28/88), pp. 54-70.

"O££ice memo," ThELP_~g.9;res§'i-'L§' 28 (January 1964), p. 1.

"O££icial l1inutes o£ 1964 Convention," Association £or

Education in Journalism; printed in L~!!;r,!!.,,!]'_;i,.§m
9.!!§,_Lt.~E1.z (Wiunter 1965).

Osbaine, Ceci I, "Kennedy: The Haking o£ a Myth," Na!'.!.9l!§l.

Bg)!A~w 20 (11/5/68), pp. 1113-4.

Payne, Darwin, "The Press Corps and the Kennedy

Assassination, 19.1!Ej:>.~li.§'m Monographs 15 (February
1970).

"Peephole Journal ism," C~.mon~§L~_l 20 (9/3/65), p. 613.

"The Presidency: Battle o£ the Book," I;i,.ID~ (12123/66), p.

15.

Pressman, Gabe, R.L. Shayon and R. Schulman, "The

Responsible Reporter," Tel.§'.~i-,,,j,on .9.\!.."!.!::!=.§.rl'y' 2 (Spring
1964), pp. 7-27.

"Pro£essionalism in News Photography," Lh."!!....9.!!.i.!..±. (November

1968) .

"The Question That Won't Go Away," [Link].c;laL£:YEmAll9'.

P.9_~.:!=. (December 1975), pp. 38 - 9 •

'0 R e - ev a 1 u a tin 9 the Ken ned Y B, II U. s-!..-~§~_~_"_§l.!l_ti~.Q};"!.g""J'~~l?..9.;::!:.

(5/4/87), p. 68.
 487

"Reporter Engage," !L~~§.!s. 62 (12/23/63), p. 70.

"The Reporter's Notes" (Column), The R~porj:_EU:. 30 (1/2/64),

p. 12.

"The Reporters' Story," g.21El1!.kk.J_9.1J.• nalj,-'!"_JlL.Rey_ie~_ (Winter

1964) •

"The Washington Shoot-Out," Ih§L9J,i..tJ._l.. (Nay 1981), pp. 8-

13.

Reston, James, "What Was Killed Was Not Only the President
But the Promise," li~l'1_..Y9rk__ Ttl!!e"!. (11/15/64), sec. vi,
p. 1.

Reston, James, "\vhy America Weeps, I. !tew_..Y_Q~~J5_:Limf!:3s

(11/23/63), p. 1.

Roberts, Charles, "Eyewitness in Dallas," Ne.~.,,!j,'§_el>.

(12/5166), pp. 26-28.

Robinson, Alan, "Reporting the Death of JFK," Associated

Press dispatch carried in I.l:!~_.Pl}ilS!.g..!tl..[Link]!'!__l.I:>-'i1JJ"L,"';-.
(11/22/88), p. 8-E.

Rossman, Michael, "The Wedding Within the War," cited in

Mi tchell Stephens, iL_Hi_"!1.orJL_9..:L._!!L"'~s (New York:
Viking Press, 1988), p. 125.

Sauvage, Leo, "Oswald in Dallas: A Few Loose Ends," Ill.",

Reporter 30 (1/2/64), pp. 24-26.

Sgarlat, John P., "A Tragedy on TV - and the Tears of a

Crestfallen Nation," ~hilad...§'lRhi~ Dail.Y.....lLews
(11/22/88) •

"Shores Dimly Seen," Th§!_Pr9..£l'!:.§!Bst.y_",,_ (January 1964).

Sidey, Hugh, "A Shattering Afternoon in Dallas," lim..§.

(11/28/88), p. 45.

Sidey, Hugh, "History On His Shoulder," Ti.!'!...'!'.. (11/8182), p.

26.

"The Sixties," ,&.Ltne..§!'_ (II :2/3, Summer/Fall 1988).

"The Sixties," Ji:..§£L1J..,i"re" (June 1983).

Sorensen, Theodore, "Nay 29, 1967," !:!s..95!.U:_§\. (June 1967).

 488

Steel, Ronald, "The Kennedy Fantsay," !:!~.':LY.9..• k_..K"'.3!.i§..I:i..•.9.£

)?oo"-,.-?. (1970).

Stolley, Richard B., "The Greatest Home Movie Ever Made,"

gS9ui,-~ 80 (November 1973), pp. 133-5.

Tebbel, John "JFK, the Magazines and Peace," S'!.~l!.!:.9.1'!Y

B~iew 46 (12/14/63), pp. 56-7.

"Television's Fi£tieth Anniversary," pe9'p'le (Summer 1989).

"Ten Years Later: Where Were You?" !,s9l!.Are_ 80 (November

1973), pp. 136-7.

Thomas, Evan, "A Reporter in Search o£ History," I.i,,!~

(5/26/86).

Tobin, Richard L., "1£ You Can Keep Your Head When All
About You ... " (IlCommunications" Column), ~§ltl!!:,:dc!y
B§lvi~'<t. 46 (12/14/63), pp. 53-4.

Trillin, Calvin, "The Bu££s" ("A Reporter At Large"

Column), :rl:!.§!_.lIJ't~.3ork~:r.:. (6/10/67), pp. 41-71.

Turner, William, "Assassinations: Epstein's Garrison,-'

Bam.fLart_-"l. (9/7/68), pp. 8+.

"TV: The Ghost o£ A President Past," !!L'i.'ll Street JO],lrnal,.

(11/7/88), p. A12.

"TV Retells the Story o£ Slaying," !:!§ji•.3.s>rk ..:rj,_~

(11/23/88), p. A8.

"25 Years Later" (Special section), U ,_§,-,-_.N.~.ws_<gl..9..._~_Q£.l,.£

Bepo.,-.:!;.. (10/24/88), pp. 30-40.

ValentiJl Jack,. uAnniversaries o£ an Assassination:

Nemories of a Last Motorcade, u h.9§_{\_:n..ge.!.~~__1:.;~m_t?~g._
(11/23/86), sec. v, p. 1.

Van der Karr, Richard K., "How Dallas TV Stations Covered

Kennedy Shooting," ;r,,!],I.F...lli!lisnLg_l,!.~j:,§£1y 42 (1965),
pp. 646-7.

Vidal, Gore, "Camelot Recalled: Dynastic Ambitions,"

ES911j,l"_"'. 99 [( June 1983), excerpted £rom "The HoI y
Family," ES9.'d.k~ (April 1967), p. 210].

Wainwright, Loudon, "Atlantic City and a Memory," [Link]~

(9/4/67), p. 17.
 489

"Was Connally the Real Target?" IJme (11/28/88), pp. 30-

41.

Weisman, John, "An Oral History: Remembering JFK ••• Our

First TV President," T~ Guide (11/19/88), pp. 2-9.

Welsh, David and William Turner, "In The Shadow o£

Dallas," li"!lt\P.§!£.i;.§.7 (1/25/69), pp. 61-71.

"What JFK Neant To Us" (Special issue), N.e"l.§wE!§'.!s.

(11/28/83), pp. 3-91.

"What's Fit to Print," Th_~I3..~orj:.§'r (1/2/64).

vJhi te, Theodore H., "Camelot, Sad Camelot," I.i,..!!L~. 112

(7/3/78), pp. 46-8. [E><cerpted £rom J.!l_?-,e.,,!rch._o£
!:l i s t_o r 'y.,;__~.£.",r §g.!L"!1....!lc;i..Y..§.!l..i;"y..!;:..§'. ( New Yor k: War n er
Books, 1978)].

Wicker, Tom, "Kennedy Without End, Amen," !;.§_~l,!JL§. 87 (June

1977), pp. 65-9.

Wicker, Tom, "Lyndon Johnson vs the Ghost o£ Jack

Kennedy," !;.§.[Link]. 64 (November 1965), pp. 87 ....

Wicker, Tom, I·A Reporter Must Trust His Instinct,"

;>aj: UJ;:.9."!Y_..ILEl.Y.1.."L"l. 4 7 (1/11/64), pp. 81-6.

Wicker, Tom, "Kennedy Without Tears," f'.§.9.![Link] 61 [(June

1964), pp. 108-11; reprinted in !'s9ui!:§. (October
1973) 1 •

Wicker, Tom, "That Day in Dallas," Lt!!l"e§__T.."'-!~. (December

1963).

II. BOOKS AND BOOK CHAPTERS

Belin, David W., f.i!!!':!J....pi_",S_![Link].!'..§ (New York: Nacmillan,

1988) •

Bell, Jack, LhE!_'[Link]£!._:I,§_.?..",_§§.§,_C!. (Associated Press, in

association with Western Publishing Company, 1963).

Bird, S. Elizabeth, "Nadia and Folklore as Interte><tual

Communication Processes: John F. Kennedy and the
Supermarket Tabloids," in M. McLaughlin,
g9_~~~rrL~~~L~~Yea.b9£~ 10 (1987), pp. 758-72.
 490

Biahop, 3im, The ~Ken}~..9_y' "}aEL2hgJ~. (New York: Bantam

Books, 1968).

Blair, Gwenda, Almost Ji:.Q..1den: 3es§Jc~;;av~tc!L~_'l£L.j:.h_<e.

Sell,t!:!g_o£-Le...l,_'?visi..9.!l._l'1_'?~§_ (New York: Simon and
Schuster, 1988).

Bradlee, Benj arnin, gPIlY§!!'-.e':[Link],,_\;li t,h._~nQ.'?.gy (New York:

W.W. Norton, 1975).

Brad er, Da v i d , J?..§_h;i...!!..9.. j;._!:>..§!_...E_L9l!_1=-_1'_<:!lLe.. ( New Yor k: Tau ch stan e

Books, 1987).

Brown, Thomas, IF_K: HistO!'L_Qi_...lIl!__J:..!f\a.9.'?. (Bloomington:

Indiana University Press, 1988).

Buchanan, Thomas G., w..l:l.9__ KL.LLed__ .!}_'!'l!n~..9.Y1_ (New York:

Putnam, 1964).

Collier, Peter and David Horowitz, I!:>e __K'!'..!1r!-'!'..9"y"'2. (New York:

Warber Vooks, 1984).

DeLillo, Don, b.!"£.J::.~ (New York: The Viking Press, 1988).

Dickstein, Morria, §_~1'?.~_...Qi_J:den. (New York: Penguin Books,

1989).

Epstein, Edward 3., Inguest: -Lhe_....\;l~:r..!?eIL..[Link]§_si..9..!!__ j3_Q£L.T_h§!.

§;s t,§.l.£'l,.;i&!:!J:!L<e,R1=-__.Qf..._._Ir l!,1.h. (N ew Yor k : Vi kin g Pr e s s ,
1967).

Fairlie, Henry, TI:!~,,-Ji'?.Rg..'!'..9_y.J:'.;[Link]!Ii,,~_ (New York: Doubleday,

1972) •

=__I..tL<e_._.!:Li,.,s tor i ca I
f..ou,,=_l1..<:!.l!..§... __ Record o£_""pr'?.§..!,£'?.!! t ~eQn""...9_:I':..~
pe~:sh. (UPI, published in association with !!!1'..'?_riS.3n
Herij:.ag_!§L..llaga_"[Link]., 1964).

Ga rr i son, 3 i m , Q.!:!._.:!;..!'-'?__..T.;r§.l..!1_Q.#.:_....!;,h_'?. _.~.§.§-'?.§.§_;i._r!_§. ( New Yor k :

Sheridan Square Press, 1988).

Gi t l in, Todd, ::rhe2.!_'!:_tie-.e_;"'_I..'!'.!!£§. __~f.. __!:l_9'p_'?...._J;J_~y.§..._£LJi.~g'?..

(New York: Bantam Books, 1987).

Greenberg, Bradley and Edwin Parker (eds.), I.h§L_~_'?1}_!1'?9.y.

f!§..§~ssination
and th'?___ ~!~.!"ric_"!..'l. __Puq.[Link] (Palo Al to:
Stan£ord University Press, 1965).

Groden, Robert, !:!..!.ghJ_J::.eas~ (New York: The Conservatory

Press, 1989).
 491

Halberstam, David, Th~-1:'[Link]'LJha..t_§.§. (New York: AI£red A.

Knop£, 1979).

Halberstam, David, "Introduction," in TQ..~_.!:Cen.Q'§£Y.

E...§.§ig'§'!1..!=i'LLJ2E§!,sS_.9o.!:!..:Ler§'_'l.\:..es. (New York: Ear I M.
Coleman Enterprises, Inc., 1978).

Halberstam, David, Ite Be~:!=_§.tl"Lj:._l;>_'L§E.!.9.!:>t~st (New York:

Random House, 1972).

Jameson, Fredric, nPeriodicizing the Sixties," in Sayres

et aI, Th",-J?Jxt:j,~EL~_th9..'JJ:,_l!.p.ol9..9Y (Minneapol is:
University o£ Minnesota Press, 1984).

Jones, Penn Jr., [Link] ...k.!.Y__qr!~£ (Midlothian, Texas:

Midlothian Mirror, 1966).

Kirkwood, James, !l"Le.£!...~__q£.Q.J:.e.~gu~ (New York: Simon and

Schuster, 1968).

Kunhardt, Philip B. Jr. (Ed.), b.!£E<...i.!L£alll.e19J;..l....Ih"_K~IlI1e..[Link]

y~~~ (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1988).

Kurtz, Michael L., gE.!me._gf_:!=h~_<;;'~.!1:!=urY.!._..::rhe _I£""n.,?_~y

f:_SS~iH~j;._.tQ..~ __fH~O~LH_'?LJ:t!'§~Q.:r..i'§!.f.!:_~_~~.E..~H9t i v~
(Knoxville: University o£ Tennessee Press, 1982).

Lane, Mark, A C!.tt"'..§.!:!.:'§_.I~.t§§.e..!1J:, (New York: HoI t, Rinehart

and Winston, 1968).

Lane, Mark, Rt,!.§.!.!._:t.!,,-.,Iggg"!\!."".!1:!=. (New York: Holt, Rinehart and

Winston, 1966).

Lieberson, Goddard (ed.), :l.f.Kl_A§.Jl!.~.. Rem~[Link].....H.i!!'. (New

York: Atheneum, 1965).

Li£ton, David S., §~~~_~ytg~e (New York: Carroll and

Gra£ Publishers, Inc., 1980).

Love, Ruth Leeds, "The Business o£ Television and the

Black Weekend," in Greenberg and Parker, Ih§.....!(e.!1!}'5l9lL
b.!"..§!" s .§J,R'1L1;.:L9.'l...i'\.l}.9._t}~.e.•. _A m_erJ c.!"_!1..1' uEJ,.1£'. ( P a loA Ito :
Stan£ord University Press, 1965).

Lowe, J aeq ue s , K~.!:!n.eqy_;...iL.T i m."'-.R,,_1[I.§.!!!J?e r_e.9. ( New Yo r k :

Quartet/Visual Arts, 1983),

Lower, Elmer, "A Television Network Gathers the News," in

Greenberg and Par ker, Ll}.§[Link]§,-9Y._II.§,,§.~."",,§,i n.a t i..2.!!_'lRc:!.
 492

t.h~.Ji~~J,..9.§.!LJi:!J.Q.1Jc (Palo Alto: Stanford University

Press, 1965).

11anchester, William, 9_ll.<;L.1l.r;'eL_,?hin~&9.!1!-'~ill., (Boston:

Little, Brown and Company, 1983).

11anchester, William, :the D~~th E_:£..lLPr-",sl,.Q.".'!.J:ti;. (New York:

Harper and Row, 1967).

Manchester, Wi 11 iam, p'o':.j;:_:r.~.l,.!:. __ Q£._~...E:r."LE;J£l.§'!..l}.i;. (Boston:

Little, Brown and Company, 1962, 1967).

Mayo, John B., J?.!JJ..Le..t:![Link].:rgJ]LJ2.~L!.!'!§. (New York: Exposition

Press, 1988).

Ni e 1 son Co., T ILJ~--"'-E;J?on §"~§'-_.'L(Lj;,h-"'J!§!a tlL9.£._"l.Y':,§§.d,g!,!!!~ (N ew

York: 1963).

Newman, A 1 bert, Th-"'_Ass,,! SEi-:!o..l.:!§.:[Link]._'?L.J oh!L.£._._l:LenrLe..9Y (N ew

York: Clarkson N. Potter, Inc., 1970).

;J,.2.§_<l__ E!i.!t".'!LB..e..Y.!"§-'LQjLgh.9...tQSE'_~!:L§..,__.K=R,,!y...Ttlm§-,2E..9.Y.!!l§.J:tt s
£lnLQ_t h§'r...,g.y"i d e!}_,=-e._.l'_§'!..:r. t "'.!.n.L'l9 ..__t o"J:..b.§. _f.§l.:t;.§1._.1![Link]'l\!A.!l9.
9.:Ll' r~,s i de.n 1;,.._,1 o'!HLL_. Kel1_n e <!Y....2.'.:!_l>!E..Y_e.m£§'_"2_";';b_! 9 6 "LAn.
Q~J..J,_§..",-,-...I§!~§..~.
(Washington, D.C.: National Archives,
Undated Report).

0' Donnell, Kenneth P. and David F. Powers, JoQ!l!1Y-,-._J'i.!'l.

!:t~.Lgl'y_.Kne.!a._..Y"§'
(Boston: Little, Brown and Company,
1970) •

Paper, Lewis, Th..§".J'r9..m~_~ng,,_LI}..§!_12.er;fo'£1!!~.r.1.9.~ (New York:

Crown Books, 1975).

Parmet, Her bert, ':U~:.K":__.Ij1e ,,1'res i !':tel}£Lof ._J ohn_f....:_K-"'.l.:!Il.".'!..<;!Y.

(New York: Dial Press, 1983).

Par me t , Her be rt , ,J.§.!S!U...._.Ih.!!L§..i;."2.y,gg_l e~"-L.l.Q..l}.!L,,£.,_...~..§Il.!}..§£lY..

(Hew York: Dial Press, 1980).

Pettit, Tom, "The Television Story in Dallas," in

Greenberg and Parker, :rh€'_.Ke.!!_m'!9L._As.e.!,!§§j,.'.:!§_tJ..!?.!L_~ng.
!:.h-"'_...Am..'i",r is'.§-,}__PU-':L:U£ (Palo Al to: Stanford Uni versi ty
Press, 1965).

Rather, Dan with Mickey Herskowitz, TI}.".'!.._Q.!'!.m.e.£~...J~te..Y-"'.:r.

1?1..L11.~.§.. (New York: Ballantine, 1977).
 493

K~.Q..9.r t t.Q_ ttl e Pr §§..Lc!§!n t_..p..Y._J;;.h.§[Link]!!! m:j,"§"§,!.Q!L9.!L C I ~.

t,.9t :ty';iJ:.j,§:_"'.__\¥1.:!;Jli!L..tll.~__gE.i:!;_~.c!_?ta.J;;.<;t§. ( Wa sh i n g ton,
D.C.: Nelson A. Rocke£eller, chairman, 1975).

B§!B9..r t_2_f_th§! __ C 0E.m i 1;J.J"_~ __9.!L!,:,£§!§!!;j9_l!!... g.f_i!}..!:.Q.:r.!'l..§!.J:i~!LQf.J:,!l§.

Amer..! C::..§_!L§Q!O' i §ll_..Q.:L_N.§!~."'.f!."!p.§!.:r._E;.,I..!.:!;.Q.r..§. (4/ 16/64) .

Reston, James Jr., The Expeg!;'!!J:J..Q.!l!LQ.:L..J.9_hn__QQnJ:>..'!.[Link].. (New

York: Harper and Row, 1989).

Rivers, William, "The Press and the Assassination," in

Gr ee n ber g an d Par ke r, Ih-"___/:;§:_'l!:!§:_<lL-i' s§."!..§."gna t i Q!l._ aJ;:Ul
:!;he__..f\.l!!.§!.r. i "'.§.!ILl'.!'![Link],£ ( Palo A1 to: S ta n £ 0 rd Un i v er sit y
Press, 1965).

Roberts, Charles, "Recollections," in R.W. Thompson (ed.),

T.§ILE'J..§§,_!.g.§.l)_t§_.§D£LJ:..h.!a...J2.:r§:-'!'_§. ( Lanham, Md.: Un i v er sit y
Press o£ America, 1983).

Rober ts , Char 1 e s , TE.§.__'l:.:r u t.!L_{\b".'!J t _.j;;h§.~§,_§.§'§§'.!.-'l..E!.t..j&l)., ( New

York: Grosset and Dunlap, Inc., 1967).

Rovere, Richard, "Introduction," in Edward J. Epstein,

~ESl~§§.J: (New York: Viking Press, 1966).

Salinger, Pierre, ~~:!;E__~<;t'lR<;t9.Y (New York: Doubleday and

Company, 1966).

Salinger, Pierre, "Introduction," in H.W. Chase and A. H.

Ler man , !'f..§!:!!!§!c!.lL...§!!:!g__th.§.YJ._~.§§' ( New Yor k: Th oma s Y.
Crowell Company, 1965).

Sal isbury, Harr ison E., t,_...Ij,.!'le .....9L_qh."!.!l9§!._~....!'!....B.§!.Po:r::t..~.!:..:§.

Jal€Lo2C...Q.Y.L..Tt.l!!..1§'. (New York: Harper and Row, 1988).

Salisbury, Harrison E., "The Editor's View in New York,"

in Greenberg and Parker, I.h.§_K~.'l!}eg'y_~s§'_§..§§in..ation
§.!l9_...t.h_~_!:!.1!).~'£i9"§E.._ PU.t.!J.J..",. ( Palo A1 to : Stan £ or d
University Press, 1965).

Sayres, Sohnya, Anders Stephanson, Stanley Aronowitz and

Fr ed ric J a me s on , Tl:l.~_§O§...J!i i tJ:,-".'.u t ..AP..9J.9..9.¥..
(Minneapolis: University o£ Minnesota Press, 1984).

Scha ch tm an, Tom, R§'c.§!.d ~_...9£ _'? h 9.9k §' : _.J2§!.!..!..§!.!L. t 0 _.!!L§!.t§..rSJ'!.t§!.
;L';l_§.2_:,,?1. (New York: Poseidon Press, 1983).
Sch e i m, Da v idE., Q.9_J:>.!;.'£."!.s.:!;._.9n A-'!l_<;t:rJ.s.§!. (N e w Yor k: Zebr a
Books, 1988).
 494

Schlesinger, Arthur Jr., A ThS!.1!~~_nd-.l2.~~ (Boston: Houghton

Mi££lin Company, 1955).

Schramm, Wilbur, "Communication in Crisis," in Greenberg

and Par ke r, Ih~Jj;.§[Link]!",-g'y_...!\...",s.!'!..§.§.;i,..!:glJ=.t9.!L~ll.s!..._tll§!.
Am~.LJ,.£~.n..J?_l!.l?j...!.s. (Palo Alto: Stan£ord University
Press, 1955).

Sidey, Hugh, Lohn F. __..K~.9y'.._ Pr~§id'§!lt. (New York:

Atheneum, 1953).

Sorensen, Theodore, K~ll.E~E.Y. (New York: Harper and Row,

1955) .

Sorensen, Theodore, Lhe IS:.§!nn,,§,9Y....h!"..9.§lCY. (New York:

MacMillan, 1959).

Stone, I.F., "The Rapid Deterioration in Our National

Leadership," reprinted in !.[Link]-,!:ime_9f.._!'.9..!:!-'-'§!!l1-,.._19§1.::
Z (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1957).
Talese, Gay, Th~1~J..![Link].!!!....",nc:!....1heJ~g~. (New York: 1970).

W.~.!1':!'!.!l_R.."''£'().l'' t ..;._..B.§p.9..:rj;,.._()LJ:h~._..P r ..e..§.igen t ' _'L._Com miss i,9!l... 0'L...'I; h e

~.~EL,,!.,<gIJ n§!1J on_.[Link].l':."'-'?.doE.§!_I1..t_..LQh.!l._E.,_K e!lJ1.§iY.
(Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing O££ice,
1964) •

We i sberg , Haro I d , 1!i.!:l11!'!l!!..;j!§.!L..I I.l.._I.h EL.£.!?.!.=..q..'f'.~.:r.~ t .... !?§!.l.':'y'!.9_'f'.

Gg~.§l.L~~E (Hyattstown, Md.: 1966).

Weisberg, Harold, IWhl!&'!!§.§!> :_ThEL..B.!=.f!ort_..2_'LJ,,,he .~..2£!:.e'!.

K<§:J2.Q.L1. (Hyattstown, Md.: 1965).

White, Theodore H., Ame..Lic:;£!_!n....!?_e..~rc;J:'-...£.:L_ll.§!21.:f (New York:

Warner Books, 1982).

Whi ·te, Theodore H., ;J;,IL..q,!?_~:J;:£.L'2.:L...!-li § ..t ..Q£y' (New York: Warner
Books, 1978).

Whit e , The 0 d or e H., Ih e._l:ta k i!l9......Q.:f....1p e ....P..!esj,9.§l.!.lb .._!.'?.§.Q. (N ew

York: Atheneum, 1961).

Wicker, Tom, Q.!l..R£.§!_,,-,_,,- (New York: Berkeley Books, 1975).

Wicker, Tom, LE1L...",...nd ..[Link]. (New York: William Morrow and

Company, 1968).

Wicker, Tom, K'f'.I1..'1e9y..._Wj,j;J>au E-...Te "'X_'? (New York: William

Morrow and Company, 1954).
 495

Wi lIs, Gary, IJ}§'..._K.~!,_".edy'_~,,_:i,_§[Link]!!.e'!.t. (New York: Pocket

Books, 1982).

Wright, Lawrence, In-1..l1e_...!,!.§'w._.~C?}c..1.£ (New York: Vintage

Books, 1983).

III. JOURNALS AND NEWS ORGANIZATIONS SURVEYED (1963-1990)

ABC News
!>roa dS.§I s tins
CBS News
gg 1 um b i a_..l£..u.£!!.§.J._:Lsm._B.~v.:A~!&..
£[Link] ._.§lnd_ Pup-.![Link]
NBC News
!,!.~_-?wELE!'.li
..x
N~-'1..• o£.li._I.~~§.
Lb.l\l.~.

IV. DOCUMENTARY FILMS, VIDEO-TAPES AND BROADCAST NEWS

SEGMENTS

t!.l1\eLi.£§I_Ji§.m'[Link] ~.:!:§_._J.: ol:l. !L._L...._K erm eg.y" (1983: 100 min u te s) ;

produced by Thomas F. Horton Associates, Inc.;
screened by Arts and Entertainment Cable Network
(1983). Narrator: Hal Holbrook.

UThe American [Link], II g_~~ Ev.§n!.ESL_~~~"~., CBS News

(11/25/75-11/26/75).

II Assassination: An American Nightmare," ~B.9_J;'y'.~n.1:.!1..£LJt~§.,

ABC News (11/14/75).

"Assassination: Twenty-£ive Years Later," eight-part

series on gJ;l.~_..g.Y_"!'_'!l.!l~L..JI!.§!!'S (11/14/88-11/23/88).

fl"'§'..j&g_._.w.!.t.h ..29"h.n_,,.£.,._.J~§'!l!:!'!'_<iY_ (1983: 90 minutes); produced by

Robert Drew Associates, in association with Golden
West Television; screened by Arts and Entertainment
Cable Network (A and E). Narrator: Nancy Dickerson.

fl.i Q.9L<:!P"!:!.Y. ;_._1~"_Ag.§. ., . .9.:[....K"tml.,,!,.g,,y. (1989: 60 min utes); NBC News

Division, uses 1960s NBC News coverage (identical to
that compiled by NBC in Ill.'§'......t!.9.'§'._ oL...li.."!,,,!:!J:ledLl_.,,I!'>ee.
P..£.~.§ i 9§'.!L<;;y", Vol. II 0 £ I..l1_§LWe§.k_We ._I,._9§_t...~.§'_l}.l},§'..9.Y.,
copyrighted 1966, 1988); screened by Arts and
 496

Entertainment Cable Network (33/13/89). Narrator:

Peter Graves.

f.j,J~j:"y_y e<t:r.:.!~!....".9.;L] e !.~l.§..!...on '-A Go 1 d erL...!:I!l!l~Y.§':I:''''§''''l.!J.c. [ CBS New s

Special (11/26/89) J •

The Foux_..QarlL-Days :__U'-'2.!'L.D"[Link]"!&..J:.e_Arling1..e!l (1963: 60

minutes); CBS News Division (November 1963);
Narrator: Charles Collingwood.

F 01!X_....P"l..Y....'L_.j,..!L.N oY§. mber: T h "l..__{\ s§~§.§...i n?l t i qf!_gf Pre §..! d €1.!l.t.
Kennedy. (1988: 120 minutes); produced by CBS News;
uses 1963 CBS News coverage; screened by CBS
(11/17/88); Narrator: Dan Rather.

f.g'd~ .. ..P. §!.Y!'L!.f!__.!'!!?...Y..'!"!!.'l..I:>.§~

(1964: 150 min utes); prod uced by
David L. Wolper for United Artists and United Press
International (Uses 1963 news coverage from networks
and local TV stations); screened by the Combined
Broadcasting Corporation (Channel 57), November,
1988. Narrator (In-film): Richard Baseheart.

,If.K (1983: 120 minutes), ABC News (11111/83).

J£.Kl_..JL]'i1l)"§_..R.'!"!~"§"'lI!..I:>..§.!~C\. (1988:60 minutes); produced by the

Susskind Company, in association with Obenhaus Films,
Inc.; screened on PBS (11/21/88); Narrator: Mark
Obenhaus.

,J F 1I;_{\ss~.§s !l!.§..1,j....Q!}.1..._ A.!LI1...._!!.?..P12§!n 'i'9_ (1 988 : 365 min u te s) ;

produced by NBC News Division; uses 1963 NBC News
coverage; screened by the Arts and Entertainment
Cable Network (A and E), (11/22/88); Narrator: Edwin
Newman.

J..fJ~. -'-J.!!.."..HJ_...__. Ow!,_'!1.9X..9..§

(1988: 60 min utes); Ku n h a r d t
Productions, Incorporated; screened on HBO (November
1988).

J.E.!.{....;. _LQ.§_t.. _Q~L!lL..!'!!? v§;.!!!R.§",>;:. (1 988 : 60 min utes); pro d u ce d by

NBC News Division (11/22/88); Narrator: Tom Brokaw.

"John F. Kennedy Remembered" (1988: 10 minutes); segment

on KYi!!......!:i. §...I!'.§., Channel Four Late-Night News,
(Philadelphia); (11/22/88); Narrator/Anchor: Steve
Bell.

K§!ll!§9.Y. (Landsburg Productions).

 497

"The Kennedy Assassination: Myth and Reality," series on

g~$...!;"y§!.l)in.!L.N.'?~§!. (November 1983).

!L""x!.1) eg.Y1.._Q."-.ELL",,_"!!'._.b§j:'§!E.
( l 964: 30 min ute s); prod u ced by
KTRK-TV, Houston, Texas.

"Kennedy Remembered" (1988: ten minutes), segment on

Act~9n_News: Channel Six Late-Night News
(Philadelphia); (11/22/88); Anchor: Jim Gardner.

K'?.!:l!'!§,9.L"y_\¥.§!.U.§£"".;....1LS;!'_~."1.~§..J!IL~.J...9_";§' (1988: 60 minutes);

produced by Drew Associates as 1963 :film gFisi§~.
!?.§!~h i ~l.l.g. ~_-E~;:'E2.§..!~t;L~!!.tJ_~ l .... ~_Q.9m.m..!j;._JIl_~_:Q.~; s c r een e d £ 0 r I he~
!l,mer iC'lll..£.,!;P.§.Ei.§!l_"§!., PBS, November 1988. Narrator:
David McCullough.

!5."".!ln~dys Don'.t....9£.¥ (1978: 120 minutes); produced by Philip

S. Hobel and Douglas Leiterman, :for Document
Associates Inc.; screened by the Arts and
Entertainment Cable Network (November 1988). Narrator
(In-:film): Cli:f:f Robertson.

Q!l._T...._i a 1 :._..b§!.!!LJ:I~.LY§!Y-O s wa1.9. (1988: 300 min utes); 1 986

simulation o:f trial o:f Lee Harvey Oswald, produced by
London Weekend Television; production o:f trial with
Rivera inserts by Peter R. Marino :for Tribune
Entertainment Company; screened on Channel 17
(11/22/88-11/23/88); Narrator: Geraldo Rivera.

Ih."LE!g.t.._L(LJ~ilLRE!!Ls.H§n LK.~!ll]_""_c!.Y.l.. .EE.Q1!L.1;J!.""._Q§!.:.s:.l "!.§.§[Link]§!.9.

fi~§!_~ (1983: 60 minutes); produced by [Link], with
Fox/Lorber Associates, Inc.; screened by Arts and
Entertainment Cable Network (1983); Narrator: Larry
McCann.

IIRerilember ing JFK," segment on 9--':?..e.9__l1.grnJ:..!l9..t. _.A!!LE#:,;':..:t..£st, ABC

News (11/22/83).

B.'?tJ,lrn.. to G!!l!!§!lgj:: .J?J:.e Y.~..1!.'" 1~._§l n 9......[Link]~L;rEK_Y.§.g_'i! (1 988: 30

minutes); produced by Group W Television, Inc;
screened by KYW News; November, 1988. Narrator: Steve
Bell.

"25th Anni veraary o£ JFK;' B Assassination," segment on §.90c!.

~~L!1i.QE2__~~""Ei£§!., ABC News (11/22/88).

"25th Anniversary o:f JFK's Assassination," special program

o:f !.'!...j...9.J:!t1..~!1'?. (11/22/88: 60 minutes); produced by ABC
News. Narrator: Forrest Sawyer.
 498

liThe Warren Report," segment on CBS Evening News, produced

by CBS News (6/25/67-6/29/67).

I ..l}..~J!i§!ek .\'I.e ....b2.",,_I;,._J ol}. !LI_,. . J~.§!'!lJ]..ed Y. (1 989 : three ta pe se t) ;

produced by NBC News Division; uses 1963 NBC News
coverage; Narrator: John Chancellor~

Vol. I: Ihe!lli~.....9_:L.J£.enn.~. £!Y..;,.._..[Link]. ;g'IY._.X. ~.§!L'2. (60

minutes: 1966, 1988);

Vo I. II: Jh 'i=--_!i9.~_..9i Ke_u.!1 e dJLo.._Ll}..§!.....P£§.§.:h.o;l el}£Y ( 60

minutes: 1966, 1988);

V01. I I I: Lh e _p_ea j;JL.o:('_§...J?X_~,§_.i,,9 e n '1',. (120m i nut es :

1963, 1988).

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produced by Saban Productions; screened on the
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