To the editor:
In the fall of 1960, I stood on the street corner of Minnesota and Lynhurst in Indianapolis and watched John F. Kennedy drive past. Only a few yards away, he didn’t look at me, but waved and smiled to a nearby woman who was holding a “Nixon” sign. Maybe if I had been old enough to pull the lever, he might have looked my way. Three years later, he was dead.
Officially, Kennedy was assassinated by a lone gunman, but the general consensus is much different. In either case, that was the day when the democratic process in this country was reversed. President (Lyndon B.) Johnson, so afraid America would appear to be a third-rate banana republic, forced the creation of a federal investigation into the assassination. The merits of that Warren Report are still in doubt, but there is an old saying that a mule is really a horse designed by a committee.