If only Hunter Thompson hadn’t blown his brains out there is finally an opening in government that fits the unique skill sets he had.
I recently heard Dennis Miller interview Clint Hill, who was one of JFK’s top Secret Service agents, and who has published a book about his experiences, including the assassination in Dallas.
If I recall correctly he was the agent who ran toward the car at the sound of the shooting and attempted to cover the Kennedys as the limo raced away.
Mr. Hill was quiet, modest and dignified, grateful for and nearly reverent about the position of trust he had held.
His words about the Kennedys and Johnsons were respectful, admiring and gracious, nothing but. He clearly took his position back then deeply seriously and conveyed the sense that he still did.
One of the things he mentioned that stuck with me came in response to a question from Miller about the clothes Mr. Hill was wearing that day. Miller allowed as how it was somewhat macabre, but he wondered if Hill’s bloodstained clothes had been preserved, by the Smithsonian, say, or by Hill himself.
Mr. Hill said that the idea of the historical value of the clothes had never come up. Everything happened so quickly, and was so grim, and Mr. Hill and the other agents just did the things they had to as they arose.
But he did say he had thrown away his jacket and his shirt, I believe, because they were so bloody, and he didn’t want them in his possession anymore anyway.
And he mentioned that this had caused him to have to run out and buy a new jacket—he traveled with one pair of pants, one jacket, but two shirts...thus he didn’t have to buy a new shirt, and he was able to clean his slacks passably well.
But he said that purchasing a new jacket had set him back a bit, budget-wise.
“That’s how things were in those days,” he said. “We didn’t have much. But we got by with what we had.”
How far we have fallen.