The interesting thing, or rather the danger involved, was the fact that Oswald seemed like such a nice, bright boy and was extremely believable before this. We thought the fellow could probably get quite a few members if he was really indeed serious about getting members. We figured after this broadcast of August 21, why, that was no longer possible . . .
MR. JENNER.
And after the broadcast broke up, was that the last of your contacts with Oswald?
MR. STUCKEY.
No; . . . the others left, and Oswald looked a little dejected, and I said, “Well, let’s go out and have a beer,” and he says, “All right.” So we left the studio and went to a bar called Comeaux’s Bar. It is about a half-block from the studio and this was the first time that his manner kind of changed from the quasi-legal position, and he relaxed a little bit. This was the first time I ever saw him relaxed and off his guard. We had about an hour’s conversation . . . and by the way . . . he told me afterward [this] suit was purchased in Russia, and they didn’t know much about making clothes over there . . .
I asked him at that time how he became interested in Marxism and [whether] his family was an influence on him in any way. He says, “No,” and he kind of looked a little amused. “No,” he says. “They are pretty typical New Orleans types,” and that was about all he said . . .
MR. JENNER.
Was he comfortable in the sense—was he eager, was he pleased—
MR. STUCKEY.
He was relaxed, he was friendly. He seemed to be relieved it was all over. My impression was he was relieved that he did not have to hide the bit over the Russian residence any more, and that it had been a strain doing so . . .
MR. JENNER.
Following that tete-a-tete in Comeaux’s Bar for about an hour, did you ever see Oswald after that?
MR. STUCKEY.
That was the last time I ever saw him . . .
13
Stuckey’s reactions to Oswald are not unusual for a media man. On the one hand, Oswald is the opponent of the day, and therefore all means at hand are fair to use against him—stack four against one in the debate, shift the ground of the argument—Russia, not Cuba—and do it all without a backward glance. Yet, media people have to be endlessly curious (if only for so long as it takes to satisfy their curiosity), and they are without rancor—should they screw you, they are nice enough not to have hard feelings afterward, just curiosity and a detached kind of sympathy for one more interesting specimen under the glass.
Stuckey sums it up:
MR. STUCKEY
. . . . It was my impression Oswald regarded himself as living in a world of intellectual inferiors.
MR. JENNER.
Please elaborate on that.
MR. STUCKEY
. . . . I had paid some attention to Oswald, nobody else had particularly, and he seemed to enjoy talking with somebody he didn’t regard as a stupid person . . . I don’t mean to say that there was any arrogance in his manner. There was just—well, you can spot intelligence, or at least I can, I think, and this was a man who was intelligent . . . and who would like to have an opportunity to express his intelligence—that was my impression.
14
The show left its lacerations, however.
McMillan:
Marina had no idea what he was reading, but from indoors she could see that sometimes Lee was not reading at all. He was just sitting on the porch looking out on the street . . .
One evening during the last week of August, she and June went for a stroll. Arriving home about twilight, they found Lee on the porch perched on one knee, pointing his rifle toward the street. It was the first time she had seen him with his rifle in months—and she was horrified.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Get the heck out of here,” he said. “Don’t talk to me . . .”
A few evenings later, she again found him on the porch with his rifle.
“Playing with your gun again, are you,” she said, sarcastically.
“Fidel Castro needs defenders,” Lee said. “I’m going to join his army of volunteers . . .”
After that, busy indoors, Marina frequently heard a clicking sound out on the porch while Lee was sitting there at dusk. She heard it three times a week, maybe more often, until the middle of September.
15
9
Picking Up the Pieces
A week after his radio debate, Oswald wrote a letter to the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the United States. It is interesting for its modesty and apparent sincerity. Is he for the first time in his life looking for advice? Or is the letter written on instructions from others—its aim to ingratiate Oswald with the leadership of the CP-USA?
August 28, 1963
Comrades:
Please advise me upon a problem of personal tactics . . . .
I had, in 1959, in Moscow, tried to legally dissolve my United States citizenship in favor of Soviet citizenship, however, I did not complete the legal formalities for this.
Having come back to the U.S. in 1962 and thrown myself into the struggle for progress and freedom in the United States, I would like to know
whether,
in your
opinion,
I can continue to fight handicapped as it were, by my past record, can I still, under these circumstances, compete with anti-progressive forces, above ground, or
whether
in your
opinion,
I should always remain in the background, i.e., underground.
Our opponents could use my background of residence in the USSR against any cause which I join, they could say the organization of which I am a member is Russian
controlled, etc.
I am sure you see my point.
I could of course openly proclaim, (if pressed on the subject) that I wanted to dissolve my American citizenship as a personal protest against the policy of the U.S. government in supporting dictatorship
etc.
But what do you think I should do? Which is the best tactic in general?
Should I dissociate myself from all progressive activities?
Here in New Orleans, I am secretary of the local
branch
of the “Fair Play for Cuba Committee,” a position which, frankly, I have used to foster communist ideals. On a local radio show, I was attacked by Cuban exile organization representatives for my residence
etc.,
in the Soviet Union.
I feel I may have compromised the FPCC, so you see that I need the advice of trusted, long time fighters for progress. Please advise.
With
Fraternal
Greeting
Sincerely,
Lee H. Oswald
1
His letter was answered by Arnold Johnson, who was one of the leaders of the Communist Party in America.
September 19, 1963
Dear Mr. Oswald:
. . . While the point you make about your residence in the Soviet Union may be utilized by some people, I think you have to recognize that as an American citizen who is now in this country, you have a right to participate in such organizations as you want, including possibly Fair Play, which are of a very broad character, and often it is advisable for some people to remain in the background, not underground. I assume this is pretty much of an academic question now, and we can discuss it later.
Sincerely yours,
Arnold Johnson
2
In any event, whether he was working alone or as a paid provocateur, his activities for the FPCC have ground to a halt; the thousand handbills were distributed and the flurry on radio had not brought in even one member.
He is discovering the great gap between publicity and its tangible results. Oswald, too, had bought the American dream of bonanza—with publicity you become rich and/or famous and/or powerful. The dirty little secret that is not passed on to good Americans in quest of this bonanza is that a burst of publicity makes one neither rich, famous, nor powerful—just Queen for a Day.
In the gap between his concerted efforts and their empty outcome, only one bold course of action remained—move to Havana. He could be of great use to Castro.
McMillan:
The obstacles were formidable. Lee had saved a little money, but possibly not enough to get to Cuba. Moreover, the State Department had banned travel to Cuba by American citizens, and all that summer
The Militant
had been filled with stories about Americans who faced imprisonment and fines on their return. That was only a minor deterrent, however, for Lee did not intend to return. He hoped to stay . . . Or, if he did not like it there, he would go to China, or else seek readmission to Russia, where he would rejoin Marina. But the problem was how to get [there] in the first place.
3
Of course, he has already been thinking in bold terms. His offer to join any group of Carlos Bringuier’s that was ready to invade Cuba would have been one extreme means of getting there. Presumably, Oswald planned on arrival to abandon the exile group and offer whatever information he had about them to the pro-Castro cadres he would meet soon enough.
What dangerous means he was contemplating! It is a scenario so fraught with peril that it bears the same relation to reasonable danger as kinky sex to the more compassionate varieties.
Marina recalls one hot night when they were sitting in their living room, and it was so hot and they were so poor. No air conditioner. It was New Orleans in summer. Husband and wife both sweating. All of a sudden, he said, “What if we hijack a plane?” She said, “Who is we?”
“You and me,” he told her.
“You are joking?”
“No,” he said.
“In Russia,” she said, “it wasn’t good, now America’s no good—so it’s Cuba.”
He said, “I am serious.”
She said, “All right, I will have to listen to you and your stupid idea.”
He said, “You don’t have to kill anybody.”
She repeated that as a question: “Kill anybody?”
“You will need a gun,” he said, “and I will have a gun, but you will not have to kill anybody. Just be there to threaten people.”
She said, “Yes, everybody will be scared of me—a pregnant woman holding a gun, and she doesn’t know how to hold it.”
He kept saying, “Repeat after me—” That’s when he tried to get her to say in English: “Stick ’em up.” She couldn’t even repeat it. She began laughing. He tried to persuade her. “Repeat after me . . .” but it was fiasco, just a fiasco.
She was pregnant with Rachel, and Lee was trying to teach her what she was supposed to say to passengers in English. She couldn’t even pronounce those words: “Stick ’em up.” Everybody was going to drop dead laughing. She said, “You really are a kook. My God, you and I have nothing to eat and you are cooking up dumb things.” It wasn’t that she was a bitchy wife and always after him to make money. She didn’t want him to make a
lot
of money; she wanted him to be glad for what he had.
She was telling the story thirty years later, and the interviewer said: “You don’t have a criminal mind. In those years, it wasn’t a bad way to hijack a plane. With a pregnant woman. He had it all figured out. You would hide the gun beneath your belly. You were indispensable to him.”
MARINA:
I said, “I’m sorry, I refuse.”
INTERVIEWER:
At that point he probably said to himself, “I’m married to the wrong woman.”
MARINA:
He probably said that from day one.
She wished to shrug this conversation away:
MARINA:
It was so long ago. I’m fifty-two years old. Put it behind me. I don’t have to report what I did when I was twelve years old, thirteen, or twenty. I’m going to heaven. I already made my reservation.
INTERVIEWER:
Wherever you go, they are going to sit you down and they will say, “Tell us about Lee Harvey Oswald.”
MARINA:
Where, in heaven?
INTERVIEWER:
They’ll say, “We were waiting, Marina, for you to tell us.”
MARINA:
Isn’t the wife last to know?
We can take note of Oswald’s frustration: to be wed to a woman who has no appreciation of the beauty of a brilliant criminal idea. He had had it all figured out: a pregnant woman—who would take a second look when they boarded the plane?
Right around that time back then, a mirror broke, just fell off the wall and broke, and she was unhappy because that was certainly an omen. One morning, she took a look at the amber heart she kept in a locket, and it was cracked—she thought somebody was going to die.
From an FBI report:
. . . He said it would be better to hijack a plane that was going inward from the coastal region of the United States because it would be less suspicious than boarding a plane on an international flight.
OSWALD
’s plans were to take a plane leaving New Orleans for another point in the United States and thereafter transfer to another plane which would be the one he would hijack . . .
He told
MARINA
that he,
OSWALD,
would sit at the front of the airplane with the pistol which he owned and
MARINA
would sit at the back of the plane with a pistol which he would buy for her. They would have their daughter,
JUNE,
with them. They would force the crew to fly the plane to Cuba.
OSWALD
told
MARINA
that she was to stand up at the back of the airplane at the appointed time and yell out “Hands up” in English. She told
OSWALD
she could not say that in English. He replied for her to say it in Russian and stick the gun out and everybody would know what she meant . . .
OSWALD
said he would buy
MARINA
a light-weight pistol for her to use in the hijack scheme [but she] told him not to buy one because she would not participate in the scheme.
OSWALD
had said he had wanted her to at least learn how to hold a pistol but she refused . . . .
She said
OSWALD
tried to talk her into participating in the hijack scheme on at least four occasions . . . .
During the time he was planning to hijack the plane,
OSWALD
began taking physical exercises at home for the purpose of increasing his physical strength.
4
McMillan:
Lee kept up his exercises for a couple of weeks, causing much merriment in the household. Afterward he rubbed himself all over with a strong-smelling liniment, took a cold shower, and came out of the bathroom as red as a lobster.
Meanwhile, he had brought home airline schedules and a large map of the world which he tacked up inside the porch. He started measuring distances on the map with a ruler . . .
5
To commemorate so apocalyptic an action, and to ensure good reception in Cuba, he told her that the new child—it could only be a boy—ought to be called Fidel. She told him that there was going to be no Fidel in her body.
He did not argue. He was putting together a résumé of his life. Once again, determined to go to Cuba, he is also contemplating a move of his family to Washington, Baltimore, or New York. Either way, he needs to prepare his papers. In New York, he can show them to officers in the Communist Party or the Socialist Workers Party. If he makes it to Cuba, he can present his dossier.
All this while, a part of him has to feel as shattered as if a grenade had gone off in his guts. The radio debate had destroyed so much; now, there is the prodigious concern of finding a way to get to Cuba, and the wholly separate option of going east to New York, Washington, or Baltimore and joining the Communist Party.
It spews over into his writing. If we may speak of dyslexia as a species of spiritual eruption, this is the worst case we see in all the samples of his writing in all the eleven volumes of Warren Commission Exhibits.
Here is an uncorrected example of what he will either bring to Cuba or use to seek entrance into the Communist Party:
I first read the communist manifesto and 1st volume of capital in 1954 when I was 15 I have study 18th century plosipers works by Lein after 1959 and attened numerous marxist reading circle and groups at the factory where I worked some of which were compulsory and other which were not. also in Russia through newspapers, radio and T.V. I leared much of Marx Engels and Lenins works. such articles are given very good coverage daliy in the USSR.
6
What a contrast to the Stuckey interview! It is Oswald at his worst. How huge is his anxiety: His ambition is always leading him to worlds where his experience is small—he does not even speak Spanish—and this anxiety wells up in every misspelled syllable as he goes on to describe his abilities as “Street Agitator,” and “Radio Specker.”
Since his letters to officials are usually far more accurate in spelling, we can presume that he usually takes the time to correct his first draft with a dictionary, yet here, where the dossier might be most important for him, he has made no corrections. It is powerful evidence of what must be close to overwhelming inner panic.
Yet all of this is gone by the time of a visit from Ruth Paine. She had written to Marina on August 24 that she would be coming back from visiting her relatives in the East and Midwest by September and would stop off in New Orleans for a quick visit.
On September 20, true to her promise, Ruth arrived in New Orleans and was greeted warmly by Lee. He was in a very good mood, Ruth would say afterward, the best mood she had ever seen him in. If his bouts of anxiety were as deep as immersions in a pit, he could, given the wide spectrum of his swings of mood, pass all the way over to blue sky and high noon. He had made up his mind: He would choose Cuba. A large problem had been resolved. In addition, all the details of Marina’s delivery of their second child, perhaps a month away, would be taken care of by Ruth. She would now make all the arrangements at Parkland Hospital in Dallas, and he would have to pay very little for it since he had worked for six months at Jaggars-Chiles-Stovall and so could show a Texas residency. Now, as far as Ruth knew, which is to say as far as he allowed Marina to tell her, he was on his way to Houston to look for work. He would come for his wife and children once he was reestablished.