Accepting the torch
My path to exploring the JFK assassination was not linear
I come by my obsession with the JFK assassination honestly.
My dad was a dedicated admirer of Kennedy.
He had vinyl recordings of key speeches, newspaper and magazine clippings from his time in office, and even a bronze bust of Kennedy perched on top of our console TV.
His dedication to JFK’s legacy grew more profound after the assassination.
Like many of his peers, my dad felt everything changed on Nov. 22, 1963, on that sunny afternoon in Dallas. And unlike most, he thought something was off after the Warren Commission released its report.
That legacy became mine, at least in name, when he convinced my mom to name me John Kennedy White when I was born in ‘67.
She drew the line at Fitzgerald, suggesting I would be teased as Fitzy for the rest of my life. As it turned out, the bullies had other reasons to target me in junior high.
“I always thought LBJ was behind it. That son of a bitch was capable of anything to get what he wanted,” my dad said in 1982.
Those harsh words have stuck with me for the last 40 years.
He kept two boxes worth of newspaper clippings and magazines devoted to the coverage of the assassination and the formal investigations, as well as the memorial album.
He passed them down to me on my 15th birthday, along with a download of his memories and theories developed despite the mainstream media’s initial general acceptance of the official line.
Shit just got real
I was overwhelmed and honored to receive the collection.
I opened the box and was hit with the emotional weight of the collection. The black and white pages felt brittle in my fingers, and the odor of old print invaded my sinuses. I was leafing through history. I could see my dad’s level of focus in my peripheral vision as I gently made my way through the documents.
My dad said he was passing the torch of skepticism and curiosity surrounding the official “known facts” linked to the assassination.
That hunger for knowledge and proof of the actual perpetrators ignited the journalist in me. It was one of the key factors that compelled me to enroll in journalism school in 1990. If I was going to be the torchbearer for his collection and memory bank, I needed to equip myself for the battle ahead.
Over time I became an ardent scholar of all things JFK. Once we owned a VCR, I recorded every available documentary on the subject and memorized them through multiple viewings.
I also started visiting new and used bookstores to track down the recommended readings to fill my knowledge bucket. I started with Death of a President, added High Treason, and then Crossfire. It spiraled from there.
I saw the original JFK movie in the theater with my parents and bought the DVD when it became available.
I ordered all of Robert Groden’s video assets on DVD and the HD copy of the Zapruder film when it was released.
OK, now what?
But there came a time when the spark fizzled. I felt like I read everything there was to read and watched every documentary there was to view. I got busy with work, marriage, and all the real-life things that take over when you hit 40.
The spark was briefly rekindled upon each passing anniversary, with news stories, books, and documentaries moving in and out of my consciousness.
At one point, around 2010, I suggested to my dad that we should go to Dallas to do a research trip together. He hated flying but thought a drive down from Winnipeg might be feasible.
We never got around to planning anything, and then my mom passed away in 2012. He was devastated. A long road trip to Dallas at this stage was not in our future.
I started talking about it again early in 2014 and looked at travel specifics online.
Dream is over
And then, disaster.
My dad passed away suddenly, and I got a glimpse of the devastation he felt in 2012.
On top of all of the reasons you’d expect a son close to his father to experience complicated grief after losing him suddenly, I had to deal with the knowledge that we’d never take that trip to Dallas together.
Losing him abruptly crushed all manner of ambition in me. I lost all interest in the things we used to share passionately — sports teams, news, current events, and JFK assassination research.
It has taken me seven years to work through suitcases full of triggers that prevented me from enjoying those things again. Grief counseling and therapy combined to refocus my emotions and allowed me to enjoy cheering for our hometown teams again.
And I’m finally ready to take the next step in the lifelong journey that started 55 years ago.
My flights and hotel are reserved for the days around the assassination anniversary. I have the morning slot booked with the best tour operator in Dallas, Freda Dillard, on Nov. 21. I have a ticket to tour the Sixth Floor Museum on Nov. 20. I plan to pay my respects on the anniversary day in Dealey Plaza.
I’m filling out a photo and video shot list, so I take full advantage of my time there.
I don’t expect to solve anything or really add anything new to the discussion or assassination research body of work.
My goal is to understand better what happened in my mind and honor my dad’s legacy and belief in me to continue the pursuit.
I will chronicle my trip and research in this Substack, so feel free to subscribe for updates.