Twenty-Six Seconds - A Review

Twenty-six Seconds – A Personal History of the Zapruder Film

By Alexandra Zapruder          (Hachette Books, NY, 2016)

Review by William Kelly

The Provenance of the Z-Film

Alexandra is the granddaughter of Abraham Zapruder, who took the most famous home movie of all time, a 26 second - 486 frame film of the assassination of President Kennedy. And she is the daughter of Henry, a Harvard-Oxford educated lawyer who served in the Kennedy Justice Department and oversaw the copyright fight for the film.

Alexandra herself is no slouch. She has a Masters degree from Harvard, is a founding staff member of the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C. and is author of “Salvaged Pages: Young Writers of Holocaust Diaries."  But in writing this ostensibly non-fictional account of the film they neglect to include an index, so I had to read the whole book to get to the part I was interested in – the Zapruder Film’s time at the National Photo Interpretation Center (NPIC).

But this book is not a history of the film itself, it is personal account from the family’s point of view, and the film’s impact on culture and society, while neglecting its political and historic implications.

After filming the murder, Abe – aka “Mr. Zee,” returned to his nearby office in the Dal-Tex building, placed the camera in his safe and called his son Henry to tell him the president was dead. Henry said he was shot but not yet reported dead, but Abraham knew better and set his son straight, explaining what he saw as the motorcade came into the camera’s picture frame: “As it came in line with my camera, I heard a shot. I saw the president lean over to Jacqueline. I didn’t realize what happened. And then I realized – I saw his head open up and I started yelling, ‘They killed him! They killed him!’ The president is dead. I saw the president’s head explode. How could this happen in America?”

As Alexandra notes, “He had known almost immediately that this (media frenzy) would be the dilemma of the film. The very night after the assassination he was visited by nightmares, some of which would haunt him for the rest of his life. But the one that pressed in on his dreams the most that night was not about the murder of the president but about the film. He dreamed he was walking in Times Square in New York, surrounded by the theaters and the flashing marquee lights. There, on the street corner, in front of a sleazy theater, stood a man in ‘a sharp double-breasted suit,’ hawking tickets to his home movie, shouting to all those who passed by, ‘Come inside to see the president murdered on the big screen!’ From deep inside his subconscious, it was his anxiety about what to do with the film that rose most prominently to the surface…The crux of the dream’s horror, in my mind, is that he would become the hawker on the street himself.”

According to Alexandra, “The reel of film that was loaded in the camera on November 22, 1963 was Kodachrome II safety film, a color film that was less grainy,…but was not easy to develop and had to be sent to a Kodak lab for processing.”

That would be at 3131 Manor way, near Love Field, where at the same time LBJ was being sworn in as President aboard Air Force One.

Because the Kodak lab in Dallas couldn’t make duplicates, “for that they sent films to Kodak headquarters in Rochester, New York,” but the Jameson Film Company in Dallas could, “provided that the original was kept in the unslit 16mm form so that they could run it on their 16mm duplicating printer.”

Kodak provided three rolls of 8mm camera film, but Jameson didn’t know what exposure was used, so they estimated it at optimum calculated exposure, and then printed one somewhat over- and the other somewhat underexposed, so they had at least one optimum copy.

The original film was given the identification number "0183."  But the three duplicates were numbered  as follows: Copy 1 - "0185" (below optimum exposure);  Copy 2 - "0186" (optimum exposure);  and Copy 3 – "0187" (above optimum exposure).  None of the copies contained the visual information between the sprocket holes.  The original remained unslit.  The apparent of absence of a copy numbered "0184" was unexplained.  Why wasn’t that number used?

According to Alexandra, Secret Service Agent Max Phillips at the SS office on Ervay Street was given two copies.  Copy 1 was retained in Dallas, “while Copy 3 was put on a plane that very night, bound for Chief Rowley at Secret Service headquarters in Washington D.C.,” sometime after 9 p.m.

Alexandra writes: “As early as Saturday morning, November 23, there was no single life of the ‘Zapruder Film.’ There were four versions – the original and three duplicates – each of which travel their own path, creating its own reverberations and consequences…”

On Saturday morning the Dallas FBI “borrowed” Copy 1 from the Dallas Secret Service, but didn’t inform their bosses in Washington.  When the Washington FBI office learned about the film from Time Magazine, Special Agents James Bookhout and Robert Barrett were ordered to make a duplicate of Copy 1.  But Bookhout and Barrett claimed to have been unable to make a duplicate and returned Copy 1 to the SS Dallas office.

Copy 1 was subsequently sent via commercial American Airlines Flight 20 that departed Dallas at 5:20 p.m. on Saturday, November 23, 1963 bound for Washington D.C.  In Washington, additional copies were made from Copy 1 at a commercial lab on Monday, November 25. Copy 1 was returned to the Dallas SS office on Tuesday, November 26, along with a duplicate (third generation) copy.

On Saturday, November 23, the original Zapruder film was sent by “courier” to Life Magazine’s Chicago printing plant, R.R. Donnelley.  Meanwhile the Life magazine crew was destroying the 200,000 printed copies of the original November 29^th edition of the magazine.  That issue featured a story on the Bobby Baker scandal that had threatened to destroy the political career LBJ.  Lyndon Baines Johnson, however, was now the President of the United States.

The duplication process in Chicago resulted in some mutilation of the original Z-film. Entire frames were spliced out.   A photo of what appears to be the un-slit original that is now at the Sixth Floor museum in Dallas, provides no indication as to exactly when the original 16 mm film (with two running 8mm strips) was slit and made into the 8mm film that exists today at the National Archives.  

Sometime during the weekend, the movie (ostensibly a copy), was viewed in New York City by Life magazine executive C. D. Jackson, a CIA-affiliated Cold Warrior.  Jackson decided that Life should buy all of the rights to the film, not just the still prints of individual frames, and to suppress the full-length running film.  As a result, the film would remain unseen by the general public for more than a dozen years.

Much of Alexandra Zapruder's book concerns financial transactions involved with the ownership of the film.  Alexandra defends her family’s parlay of the original $50,000 to $150,000 and the subsequent buy-back for $1, followed by the re-sale of the film to the US government for many millions. The Zapruder family kept the copyrights and gifted the rights to the historic film to the Sixth Floor Museum, an admirable donation.

It has also been pointed out that Alexandra neglects to mention that a leading copyright authority of his time, Melville Nimmer, considered the Z-film an example of a work whose copyright ultimately would not have been protected due to First Amendment considerations.

Alexandra castigates Joshia Thompson and Robert Groden for theft, accusing them of acknowledging their unauthorized copying of the film in order to promote their conspiracy theories. While she also seems annoyed that bootleg copies were printed, and doesn’t seem bothered at all that there is no precisely accurate account for the film’s time in the government’s hands. She expresses the opinion that Life’s suppression of the film was essentially in good taste.

“Meanwhile,” writes Alexandra, “it appears that at some point in early December, the Secret Service in Washington enlisted the help of the CIA in analyzing the film. This part of the story turns out to be maddeningly confusing. There is scant official documentation and conflicting, sometimes unreliable testimonies from those involved. As a result, there are widely divergent conclusions about what happened and the implications. Trying to isolate the hard evidence and write an account based upon it is hampered by conspiracy theorists who have comingled facts and speculation to form narratives that proliferate in print and on the Internet.”

Wait a minute, I thought that’s what we were doing – trying to isolate the hard evidence and write a conclusive narrative of events as they really occurred. Isn’t that what we are trying to do? And while the crazy conspiracy theorists have failed to do that, so does Alexandra.

For starters, it wasn’t “at some point in early December,” it was the day after the assassination – Saturday, November 23, and Sunday November 24 – when the Z-film visited the NPIC on two entirely different occasions. There events occurred that have been detailed elsewhere.  

The December date probably stems from CIA document number (1641)-450  [RIF: 104-10423-10308 link to Smoking Doc #3   [ http://www.maryferrell.org/showDoc.html?docId=7154 - relPageId=2 ], discovered by Paul Hoch, that officially documents the Z-film’s residency at the venerable NPIC.

But the official documentary record doesn’t provide the detail and context that some individuals who were there have described – Ben Hunter, Homer McMahon and Dino Brugioni -  NPIC staff employees who actually handled the film.

Alexandra actually leaves out the fascinating story of how we came to meet these men and get their stories on the record.  It was the April 2, 1997 Assassination Records Review Board (ARRB) public “Hearing on the Status and Disposition of the Zapruder Film,” which was aired on CSPAN cable TV that supplied an impetus.

That program got low general ratings, but was seen by a key suburban Washington D.C. housewife.  When she learned about the ARRB's interest in the Zapruder Film, she called the Board to inform them that her husband, Ben Hunter, had mentioned that he had worked on the film.  An employee at NPIC on the weekend of the assassination, he was called in to do special work for someone important.

While Hunter, McMahon and Brugioni were all interviewed on the record by the ARRB, Alexandra only quotes Doug Horne, the military analyst on the ARRB staff, from an interview he gave Dick Russell (which I posted on the internet [ http://jfkcountercoup.blogspot.com/2009/11/doug-horne.html  ] ).  Instead Alexandra defers to Richard Trask.

“After getting lost in this labyrinth more times than I could count, I eventually found a guide in Richard Trask, author of 'National Nightmare on Six Feet of Film: Mr. Zapruder’s Home Movie and the Murder of President Kennedy,' and a measured and reliable historian of these events. According to Trask, the likely scenario is as follows: As we know, the Secret Service had flown Copy 3 of the film from Dallas to Washington on Friday night, November 22.”

“The agency then urgently enlisted the help of the CIA to make copies of certain frames of the film. Late Saturday (or possibly Sunday) night Ben Hunter and Homer McMahon, two employees of the CIA’s National Photographic Interpretation Center (NPIC), were called to the lab. The NPIC was a little-known office charged with solving national intelligence problems by using photo interpretation and imagery analysis.”

This is an understatement, as the NPIC was founded in the CIA by Art Lundahl, who had previously headed the Navy Photo Interpretation Center and was hired by the CIA to develop their National Center, which operated out of the upper floors of a downtown Washington D.C. Ford motor dealership.

The primary responsibility of NPIC was to receive U2 spy plane (and later CORONA spy satellite) photos that were processed at the secret "Hawkeye Works" plant affiliated with the KODAK camera company headquarters in Rochester, New York. When Homer McMahon was tape recorded saying the person who brought the film to NPIC mentioned that the film was processed at the Rochester facility and he used the "Hawkeye Works" code name for the secret plant whose name was still classified in 1997 and had to be excised from the recorded interview with McMahon.

Art Lundahl, the founder and head of NPIC, was first recognized for his analysis of UFO films and photographs in the Navy, but made his mark during the Cuban Missile Crisis when his briefing of the President in October 1962 provided conclusive proof of long range soviet nuclear missiles in Cuba and sparked the crisis. Kennedy was so impressed by Lundahl’s briefing he sent Lundahl to London to brief the American Ambassador David Bruce and then on to Paris to brief deGaulle and ensure their support in the crisis.

After the Cuban Missile Crisis was resolved with the loss of only one U2 pilot, the President and Attorney General visited Lundahl’s NPIC offices and labs above the Ford dealership and immediately ordered that they be provided quarters in Building 213 on the grounds of the Anacosta Navy Yard and given the budget and latest technology they needed.

It was to Building 213 where the Z-film was taken and it was for a special project that the NPIC staff technicians were enlisted to work on.

“Hunter and McMahon were put to work making enlargements of the film, a task that was described as ‘above top secret.’”

Trask: “The work done on the film was accomplished using the special ’10-20-40 processing enlarger’ with a full-immersion ‘wet-gate’ used to create internegative prints forty times the original size. These internegatives were then utilized to produce multiple color prints of selected frames.”

Alexandra Zapruder says, “It’s not clear what, if anything, the Secret Service did with these reproductions of the film until early December, when they – again in conjunction with the CIA and NPIC – seem to have analyzed the film more thoroughly.”

“Nearly nothing is known about the NPIC handling of the Zapruder Film until the mid-seventies, when first-generation assassination researcher Paul Hoch came across CIA Document 450…This record confirms that the NPIC analysis took place and establishes that two sets of briefing boards with enlargements of the film were created, though the document does not state when or by whom.”

Well we know that two separate sets of briefing boards were made during two separate Z-film visits to the NPIC – one attended by Hunter and McMahon and the other by Dino Brugioni.  Neither Hunter and McMahon, on the one hand, nor Brugioni on the other, were aware of the other's role in the two sets of activities.

We also know that Art Lundahl used one set of the briefing boards to brief CIA director John  McCone on Monday morning because when he got back to his office Lundahl said that the briefing went well and thanked all of those who assisted him. While we have some of the original briefing boards, we don’t know what Lundahl told McCone in the briefing.

We do know that after the NPIC briefing using the Z-film photos on briefing boards, McCone told Robert Kennedy the CIA concluded that there were two shooters, as RFK related that information to Arthur Sclesinger, who dutifully noted it in his journal.

But who was briefed by whoever used the second set of briefing boards?

And what became of the documentary record of what Alexandra Zapruder says, “amid rising questions about whether the early FBI and Secret Service accounts of the assassination were correct, the CIA and NPIC undertook a more comprehensive analysis of the enlargements from the film in order to try to establish the timing and impact of the shots fired at the motorcade.”

What became of that “more comprehensive analysis”?

Alexandra Zapruder apparently doesn’t care.

“Who cares when it happened?” she says. “After all, a report of two security agencies working together to glean as much information as they could about the president’s assassination seems innocuous enough. But don’t be fooled.”

She says this link to the CIA has become fodder for elaborate conspiracy theories that she blames on “the very different readings of the testimonies provided by these aging former NPIC personnel.”

There wouldn’t be such fodder for conspiracy theories if the official records of the two briefings and “comprehensive analysis” were on the public record, as they should be by this time.  But in the meantime, we do have the recollections of the NPIC technicians who actually did the work on the Z-film.

After he was interviewed on tape, and uttered the “Hawkeye Works” code name for the secret Kodak plant in Rochester. [ Undercover: Covert photographic operations center existed at Kodak plant | Rochester Business Journal New York business news and information ]

Then McMahon was brought back, apparently after being reprimanded for his original candid testimony. But this time he sang another tune, telling Jeremy Gunn (on July 14, 1997) that he was a recovering drug addict and alcoholic with “senile dementia,” thus attempting to destroy the credibility of his previous statements.

Brugioni can’t be so easily dismissed, as he wrote the CIA book on photo forgery, and a synopsis of the Z-film event for the official history of the NPIC, a several hundred page long, still-classified document. But rather than asking what became of all the missing official records on these events, and what is the true provenance of the original Z-film and the three first generation copies, Alexandra Zapruder simply blames silly conspiracy theorists for muddling up the works.

Alexandra mentions that one copy of the Z-film was brought to the NPIC by a Secret Service Agent identified as “Bill Smith,” and of course there is no Secret Service Agent named Bill Smith.  It has been speculated that it was just a common name made up for the moment.  But there is a NPIC officer named Bill Smith, a longtime employee who married a high level CIA officer who had also worked a NPIC and had been implicated in a social scandal with another government official.  

This Bill Smith attended annual NPIC employee picnics, but denied in a phone conversation that he was the “Bill Smith” who brought the Z-film to NPIC.  In retrospect it seems he could have got the same message Homer McMahon got, namely, that any discussion of such matters is not the party line.

As for the missing records of the Z-film residencies at NPIC, we do have other examples of missing NPIC records, including accounts of a number of NPIC technicians assigned to the CIA’s JMWAVE station in Florida. They all testified to the ARRB separately that there was a CIA program called PATHFINDER, the files of which were not kept in the regular files at JMWAVE, but kept separate in the NPIC section of the station.

PATHFINDER was described as a CIA plan to kill Castro using snipers with high powered rifles with scopes shooting at him as he rode in an open jeep en route to Xanadu, the DuPont estate, which just happened to be next door to the home of Rolando Cubella (AMLASH), who the CIA’s Desmond Fitzgerald was briefing in Paris at the time of the assassination of President Kennedy.

While PATHFINDER was reportedly “disapproved” by Higher Authority, NPIC had provided he CIA with aerial photos of the area and detailed floor plans to assist them in the operation that appeared suspiciously similar to what happened at Dealey Plaza.

And what became of all the official NPIC records that should have been responsive to the JFK Act and included in the JFK Collection at the NARA where all interested parties could read them and decide for themselves what happened to JFK?

Why isn’t Dino Brugoni’s report on the Z-film event at NPIC from the NPIC official history not included in the JFK Collection at the Archives?

According to an ARRB report on an interview with an NPIC secretary, Robert F. Kennedy himself ordered all the NPIC records related to the assassination compiled and sent to the Smithsonian Institute instead of the NARA, where they should have been sent.  In any event, they have for now disappeared into an Orwellian "memory hole" where missing records are deep-sixed.

Alexandra also apparently ignores the well-known fact that Jean de Mohrenschildt, a close personal friend of the accused assassin had at one time worked for Alexandra's grandfather in the dress business, a coincidence that could have drawn out some interesting additional factors that remain to be explored.

In his book on photo fakery, Dino Brugioni says that it is so easy to manipulate or misinterpret photographs that they should not be utilized as evidence in a court of law, and indeed, like the acoustical evidence in the assassination, none of the photo evidence is conclusive of anything. The Backyard (“mission” photos), the Tramps, Badgeman, the Man in Mexico City, Prayer Man, the Zapruder film – none of them provide any basis for consensus as to what they tell us or mean, regardless of whether they are authentic or not.

And so the bottom line is that Alexandra Zapruder’s book “Twenty-Six Seconds” is more of “a personal history” rather than a definitive account of the provenance of the Z-film. A precise accounting of the film's chain of possession, and the potential repercussions of that history, have yet to be realized.

Teen Idol - Bobby Rydell at Bay Shores

Robert Ridarelli – aka Bobby Rydell’s autobiography -

Teen Idol on the Rocks – A Tale of Second Chances (with Allan Slutsky, Doctor Licks Publishing, Cherry Hill, N.J., 08022) p. 31-35:

“There’s a common misconception among outsiders that if you grew up in South Philadelphia during the ‘50s, you must have been on a first-name basis with all the homegrown neighborhood heroes: Mario Lanza, Eddie Fisher, Joey Bishop, Jack Klugman, James Darren, Fabian, David Brenner, Al Martino, Frankie Avalon…who live only a few blocks away from me, but I never got to know them until after my own career was in full swing. The lone exception to all these missed relationships was Frankie Avalon. We both shared similar beginnings as performers…”

“My new drums couldn’t have arrived at a more perfect time because I was starting to get gigs as a drummer. One of them came from Frankie Avalon, and would prove to be a turning point for me. Cheech – that was my nickname for him – was in a band called Rocco and the Saints. One night, they were booked as the opening act at a very popular club in Somers Point, New Jersey, called Bayshores. Chippie Peters, the band’s drummer, was ill so Cheech asked me to fill in, sing a few tunes and do my usual imitations and comedy. The headliner that night was a prominent local act named Billy Duke and the Dukes, whose bass player was known as Frankie Day. (His real name was Francesco Cocchi). Frankie must have liked what he saw and heard because he approached me after our set and said he’d like to manage me. I had no idea what that even meant so I just said, ‘Talk to my dad. It was the summer of 1957.” 

Bruce Springsteen's Autobiography Born to Run - A Review

Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen (Simon & Shuster, 2016)

A review by Bill Kelly

billkelly3@gmail.com 

Bruce Springsteen’s autobiography Born to Run is on the streets.

I didn't stand in line with the other 4,000 fans to get an autographed copy, a selfie and thirty seconds to shake hands and exchange words with the Boss, but if I did I would have told Bruce to get an index, as every serious work of non-fiction should have one.

I wanted to read Springsteen's book for a number of reasons, - to see who his ghost writer is, to hear what he has to say about a few particular people, to see if there were any key South Jersey connections and find any personal associations between my life and his, as we both grew up Jersey Shore Guys at the same time.

But without an index as a search guide I couldn't "research," cut to the chase, cheat or read the Cliff Notes, and would just have to buckle down in the front seat, riding shotgun on the passenger side, and read it, all 510 pages with color photo supplement.

I also wanted to know if this was to be like a Billie Holiday or Howard Hughes imaginative autobio or more like Dylan's (Volume 1), that actually answers some questions and at least tries to get to the heart of things, which in this case cuts close to home.

I didn't have to look far for a South Jersey connection - there on the front cover is Frank Stefano's 1978 black and white photo of Bruce in front of Stefano's Haddonfield home, leaning against his $6,000 1964 Corvette convertible, as if waiting for you to take that long walk from the front porch to his front seat - let the screen door slam, and the trip begin.

As Bruce explains it he met Frank Stefano through Patti Smith, another South Jersey connection, and they're both in the book.

But like Dylan's auto bio it isn't always who you mention but who you leave out, and a few prominent names go unmentioned – like for instance President Obama and Governor Chris Christie, both big fans on opposite ends of the political spectrum. Bruce backed Obama for President, campaigned for him and sang at his inaugural, but like Sinatra and JFK, they apparently had a falling out. It was the other way around with Christe, who gets first row seats to Bruce concerts, but was snubbed by the boss until after hurricane Sandy, when Christie moved beyond party politics and gained Bruce's admiration, however temporary. Both understandable snuffs.

If Dylan is the conscience of our generation, then Bruce is the spirit, and both are the only living contenders to Walt Whitman's title of America's unofficial Poet Laureate. And there's an affinity between them that's quite evident, and there paths would cross down the road a number of times, most notably when Bruce introduced Bob to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. But they also were at Sinatra’s funeral together and met a number of times privately and Bob probably edges out Bruce on influence and seniority.

The answer to the first question is the Ghost Writer is Bruce himself, and it isn't hard to imagine the person who penned "Blinded by the Light," “Thunder Road,” "Born to Run" and "Spirits in the Night" could write a complete sentence and put the story into words and paragraphs instead of rhymes and rhythms.

“Madman, drummers, bummers, Indians in the summer, with a teenage diplomat…- The screen door slams. Mary’s dress waves like a vision she dances across the porch…- In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream. At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines. Sprung from cages on highway nine, chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin’ out over the line…- Crazy Janey and her mission man were back in the alley traden’ hands, ‘long came Wild Billy with his friend G-Man all duded up for Saturday night. Well, Billy slammed on his coaster breaks and said, ‘Anybody wanna go up to Greasy Lake? It’s about a mile on the dark side of Route 88 I got a bottle of rose so let’s try it….”

They’re well baited hooks that grab you and the take you for a ride that feels like magic.

But it isn't reassuring to read his opening line of his book - "I come from a boardwalk town where almost everything is tinged with a bit of fraud. So am I a member in good standing amongst those who 'lie' in the service of truth...But I had four aces in youth, a decade of bar band experience, a good group of homegrown musicians attuned to my performance style, and a story to tell."

And a story to tell it is indeed, but only one we've heard through his songs and music, and by others, not from the man himself, and he warns us from the get go that he’s a bit of a fraud and will ‘lie’ in the service of truth, so hold on to your hats and keep your elbows in the window.

As one fan told him, after hours in line, he got his 30 seconds with the Boss and said, - "You know Bruce, if this book thing doesn't work out you can always write songs."

And for the millions of Bruce fans who grew up with him, it's time to jump into his skin and rewind the ride from the front porch, - beginning with the typical family problems everyone experiences, skipping high school graduation to go to the Village, getting evicted from Freehold, Greetings from Asbury Park when it was still the pits, back and forth up and down E-Street a few times, on to world tours and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame up to now. And the rides not over yet.

You don't have to read it from beginning to end but can pick it up anywhere you are interested and it will still make sense - it is in chronological order, until the end, when he regurgitates some of the early feelings that were hard to express early on, such as how he found his voice, realized it wasn’t so hot, and knew he had to overcome that with other finer attributes, like spirit, style and a little magic.

The book is written in a bare bones Hemingwayesque prose much like the parting note - in case you didn't know - "About the Author: Bruce Springsteen has been inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, and the New Jersey Hall of Fame. He is the recipient of twenty Grammy Awards, an Academy Award, and the Kennedy Center Honors. He lives in New Jersey with his family. For more information go to www.brucespringsteen.net."

Just as a local newspaper columnist complained about Springsteen fever, - he just didn't get it, you have to understand the music to appreciate it, or appreciate it to understand it – as they go hand in hand.

Bruce is well known as a Jersey Guy, but like Frank (Sinatra) and Jack (Nicholson) and Joe (Piscopo), they are NORTH Jersey Guys - with closer affinities to New York and are Giants, Devils and Mets fans, rather than the South Jersey connection to Philly and Philadelphia Eagles, Flyers and Phillies fans. 

There is a difference, and I know of only a few occasions when Bruce ventured down and performed south of Toms River. He did it early in his career at the Earlton Lounge bowling alley in Cherry Hill and the Satellite Lounge in Wrightstown, both of which get a mentioned in the book. The Satellite gets a whole chapter because the gig was the first for a new drummer, and the owner threatened to kill Bruce if he reneged on his contract and didn't play, but would love him if he did. Greg Gregory of Somers Point was a Temple student and bartender at the Satellite and recalls charging Bruce a dollar for a beer.

Early in his career Bruce also played Ocean and Burlington Community College gigs, that put him just over the Jersey Mason-Dixon Line.

Then there was the time in 1988 Bruce sat in and jammed on a few songs with Jackson Browne on the makeshift stage in the parking lot of Bally's casino in Atlantic City, the first and only time Bruce has ever played a casino.

Then there was the 2002 Rising Tour show at Atlantic City Boardwalk Hall, but that’s pretty much it.

Bruce is a North Jersey Guy, who made it in New York mainly through the efforts of his agent and promoter Mike Apple and John Hammond, Sr., who signed him to CBS Records, both of whom are seriously dealt with in the book.

But he also acknowledges the Delaware Valley fans were the first to really embrace him, with a tip of the hat to David Dye (now at World Cafe WXPN) and Ed Sciaky, both acknowledged.

Another local South Jersey Shore music writer Kurt Loder of Ocean City gave a five star Rolling Stone magazine review of Springsteen's The Rising album, and David Kamp writes a flattering cover story profile of Bruce in Vanity Fair that refers to Bruce's suffering year-long bouts of depression, that some attribute to his alcoholic father, who was hot and cold with his kids and packed up and moved to California in 1969, leaving behind 19 year old Bruce and 17 year old daughter with child.

While his Italian mother was full of love and family, maybe it was his salt and fire Irish father who inspired Bruce to pick up the guitar and believe he could, like the Beatles and the Stones, make a living playing rock and roll.

As Bruce said in his R&R Hall of Fame speech, “I’ve gotta thank him because – what would I have conceivably written about without him? I mean, you can imagine that if everything had gone great between us, we would have had disaster. I would have written just happy songs – and I tried it in the early ‘90s and it didn’t work; the public didn’t like it.”

More so were the influences of Sinatra, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, all of whom he would cross paths with down the road, after his mother bought him a $60 guitar and he began to play with local garage and bar bands.

Bouncing around for years, playing with a series of bar bands – The Castiles, Steel Mill, Earth, Dr. Zoom & the Sonic Boom, Sundance Blues Band, until he gets the Bruce Springsteen Band together in 1971 and as with the evolving E-Street Band, there's no disputing who is the boss, though they did get a big boost from Mike Apple, who signed Bruce to contracts as an individual - not as a band, and in 1972 he got Bruce the audition with John Hammond, Jr., the legendary CBS Records A&R man who signed Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan and Bruce.

While Dave Marsh wrote the 1998 Born to Run biography - you can't copyright a title - it was another music journalist Jon Landau who wrote “I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen.” Landau then stepped in as a producer who gave Bruce the advice and direction he needed to go even further, and his role is well amplified in the book.

Some of the stories Bruce tells make the book – like the time they travel onto the Indian reservation in the Southwest, where they found Thunder Road, the time they got thrown out of Disney Land because Steve Van Zant wouldn’t take off his bandana, how he met Patti his second wife at the Stone Pony, how he met Sinatra through Patti’s pedicurist, and Dylan and Jack Nicholson at Frank’s funeral.

The business end of things wasn't his major interest and making a lot of money not a motive, but making the magic in the performance was - and he honed his band to do it right, night after night, and they pretty much did.

Bruce says that outside the bouts of depression, he only felt he lost the magic a few times – first when he played his first large scale stadium show in Ireland, then at a Madison Square Garden show when he performed "American Skin," about the police killing of a young black boy, to which the police benevolent association took exception, and then while practicing for the  E-Street Band revival after 10 years hiatus.

The last time, after weeks of practice behind closed doors in the Asbury Park Convention Hall, Bruce felt the music was dull, uninspiring and the spirit lacking, until he opened the doors and let the fans waiting outside in.

Suddenly he came to life, looked into the faces of the fans who expected magic, and he reached back and found it - just as he found it in Ireland and at the Garden, the fans provided the missing ingredient that mad the magic - just add love.

They get it.

And for the fans, old or new, who read this book, who get in the car with Bruce, they too will get it, and go back, back to Greasy Lake, drink the rose wine, dance under the stars and among the lightning bugs, fairies and the feel the magic in the spirits in the night, the magic that Bruce has brought us over these many years, a trip that's still unfolding, as the magic is still there, if you want it. 

Just get in and go for a ride with Bruce behind the wheel.

"Killing Reagan" - A Review

"Killing​ ​Reagan"​ ​Again​ ​-​ ​A​ ​review​ ​by​ ​Bill​ ​Kelly. 

Bill​ ​O'Reilly' ​and​ ​Martin​ ​Dugard ​in​ ​their​ ​book​ ​"Killing​ ​Reagan,"​ ​​ ​as​ ​with​ ​"Killing Kennedy,"​ ​offer​ ​a​ ​lot​ ​of​ ​interesting​ ​facts​ ​but​ ​in​ ​the​ ​end,​ ​they​ ​get​ ​it​ ​wrong,​ ​or​ ​just​ ​don't get​ ​it,​ ​and​ ​neither​ ​will​ ​their​ ​plethora​ ​of​  readers,​ ​unless​ ​they​ ​read​ ​more​ ​about​ ​it. 

In the late 1970s, when​ ​he​ ​was​ ​a​ ​young​ ​intrepid​ ​reporter​ ​in​ ​Texas​, O'Reilly​ ​was​ ​on​ ​the right​ ​track​ ​when​ ​he​ ​was​ ​following​ ​up​ ​on​ ​new​ ​leads​ ​provided​ ​by​ ​the​ ​House​ ​Select Committee​ ​on​ ​Assassinations​ ​(HSCA),​ ​seeking out ​interviews​ ​with​ ​the​ ​accused presidential​ ​assassin's​ ​best​ ​friend​ ​George​ ​deMohrenschildt​ ​and​ ​his CIA​ ​contact​ ​G. Walton​ ​Moore.​ ​O'Reilly​ ​then​ ​asked​ ​key​ ​hard​ ​hitting​ ​questions,​ ​some​ ​of​ ​which​ ​we​ ​are 

still​ ​asking​ ​today,​ ​but​ ​he's​ ​no​ ​longer​ ​asking​ ​them. 

​O'Reilly​ ​spoiled​ ​it​ ​in​"Killing​ ​Kennedy"​ ​by​ ​inserting​ ​himself​ ​in​ ​the​ ​story​ ​by falsely​ claming​ ​to​ ​have​ ​been​ ​knocking​ ​on​ ​deMohrenschiltz's​ ​Florida​ ​door​ ​while​ ​the man​ ​with​ ​answers​ ​killed​ ​himself​ ​in Hemmingwayesque​ ​fashion,​ ​when​ ​O'Reilly​ ​was​ ​not within​ ​ear​ ​shot​ ​but​ ​actually​ ​in​ ​another​ ​state​ ​all​ ​together. 

But​ ​that's​ ​okay​ ​because​ ​O'Reilly​ ​doesn't​ ​believe​ ​there​ ​was​ ​a​ ​conspiracy​ ​anyway,​ ​and now​ ​thinks​ ​a​ ​deranged​ ​loner​ ​was​ ​responsible​ ​for​ ​killing​ ​JFK​ ​all​ ​by​ ​his​ ​lonesome​ ​self, and​ ​we​ ​should​ ​all​ ​go​ ​home​ ​and​ ​read​ ​about​ ​it​ ​in​ ​his​ ​best​-selling​ ​book. 

O'Reilly​ ​and​ ​his​ ​sidekick​ ​Martin​ ​Dugard​ ​take​ ​a​ ​similarly​ ​safe​ ​approach​ ​in​ ​"Killing​ ​Reagan," and​ ​paint​ ​John​ ​Warnock Hinckley Jr.​ ​with​ ​same​ ​brush​ ​and​ ​same​ ​colors​ ​as​ ​they​ ​portray​ ​the​ ​Patsy​ ​in "Killing​ ​Kennedy,"​ ​a​ ​troubled​ ​young man ​who​ ​played​ ​with​ ​guns​ ​and​ ​acted​ ​out​ ​his fantasies​ ​on​ ​a​ ​President.  

I​ ​haven't​ ​read​ ​"Killing​ ​Lincoln"​ ​but​ I ​see​ ​a​ ​disturbing​ ​trend​ ​that​ ​says,​ ​as​ ​Allen​ ​Dulles​ ​tried to​ ​sell​ ​the​ ​Warren​ ​Commission​ ​at​ ​their​ ​first​ ​meeting,​ ​that​ ​John​ ​Wilks​ ​Booth​ ​practically acted​ ​alone​ ​and​ ​not​ ​bother​ ​to​ ​mention​ ​the​ ​half dozen Confederates​ ​who​ ​were​ ​hung​ ​for​ ​the​ ​crime he committed alone. 

There's​ ​a​ ​lot​ ​of​ ​interesting​ ​tidbits​ ​in​ ​this​ ​book​ ​that​ ​I​ ​didn't​ ​know,​ ​even​ ​after​ ​researching and​ ​writing​ ​a​ ​major​ ​feature​ ​article​ ​(with​ ​John​ ​Judge​ ​[​http://jfkcountercoup2.blogspot.com/2016/08/hinckley-company.html ​]​ ​I​ ​didn't​ ​know​ ​Hinckley​ ​wanted​ ​to kill​ ​Nixon,​ ​Jimmy​ ​Carter​ ​and​ ​Ted​ ​Kennedy,​ ​but​ ​was​ ​thwarted​ ​at​ ​every​ ​turn​ ​by coincidence​ ​and​ ​happenstance. 

The​ ​one​ ​time​ ​security​ ​did​ ​stop​ ​Hinckley,​ ​at​ ​Nashville​ ​airport,​ ​where​ ​the​ ​x-ray​ ​machine picked​ ​up​ ​guns​ ​in​ ​his​ ​suitcase,​ ​and​ ​they​ ​hit​ ​him​ ​with​ ​a​ ​$50​ ​fine​ ​and​ ​$12.50​ ​court​ ​costs, but​ ​he​ ​stayed​ ​off​ ​the​ ​Secret​ ​Service​ ​radar​ ​because​ ​they​ ​failed​ ​to​ ​note​ ​that​ ​at​ ​the​ ​same time​ ​President​ ​Carter​ ​was​ ​a​ ​few​ ​miles​ ​away​ ​at​ ​the​ ​Grand​ ​Old​ ​Opry.​ ​They​ ​just​ ​didn't put​ ​two​ ​and​ ​two​ ​together​ ​and​ ​connect​ ​the incidents​ ​being​ ​linked,​ ​and​ ​it​ ​wouldn't​ ​have​ ​been​ ​a​ ​crime​ ​if​ ​Hinckley​ ​didn't​ ​conceal​ ​them, after​ ​all​ ​this​ ​is​ ​Tennessee. 

After​ ​mentioning​ ​that​ ​Hinckley​ ​was​ ​born​ ​in​ ​an​ ​obsolete​ ​mental​ ​hospital,​ ​and​ ​his​ ​father worked​ ​for​ ​World​ ​Vision,​ ​a​ ​suspected​ ​CIA​ ​front,​ ​​​O'Reilly​ ​and​ ​Dugard​ ​fail​ ​to​ ​mention​ ​a few​ ​other​ ​salient​ ​facts,​ ​like​ ​Hinckley​ ​Senior's​ ​oil​ ​company​ ​was​ ​connected​ ​too,​ ​and​ ​it​ ​was a​ ​company​ ​psychiatrist​ ​Dr.​ ​John​ ​Hooper​ ​who​ ​treated​ ​John​ ​when​ ​his​ ​psychosis​ ​became apparent. 

They​ ​also​ ​fail​ ​to​ ​mention​ ​that​ ​Hinckley​ ​bought​ ​his​ ​weapons​ ​at​ ​a​ ​Dallas​ ​gun shop​ ​just down​ ​the​ ​street​ ​from​ ​Dealey​ ​Plaza​ ​without​ ​even​ ​an​ ​ID,​ ​just​ ​as​ ​Oswald​ ​could​ ​have​ ​done, but​ ​didn't. 

They​ ​do​ ​get​ ​into​ ​the​ ​psychotic​ ​effect​ ​certain​ ​films​ ​had​ ​on​ ​Hinckley,​ ​especially​ ​Taxi​ ​Driver, that​ ​O'Reilly​ ​and​ ​Dugard​ ​say​​:​ ​"Screenwriter​ ​Paul​ ​Schrader​ ​based​ ​the​ ​character​ ​of​ ​Bickle on​ ​Arthur​ ​Bremer​ ​-​ ​the​ ​would-be​ ​assassin​ ​of​ ​presidential​ ​candidate​ ​George​ ​Wallace​ ​in 1992.​ ​Bremer​ ​shot​ ​Wallace​ ​to​ ​become​ ​famous​ ​and​ ​impress​ ​a​ ​girlfriend​ ​who​ ​had​ ​just broken​ ​up​ ​with​ ​him.​ ​He​ ​had​ ​originally​ ​intended​ ​to​ ​kill​ ​President​ ​Nixon​ ​but​ ​botched several​ ​attempts."  

O'Reilly​ ​also​ ​mentions​ ​in​ ​a​ ​footnote​ ​that,​ ​"Bremer​ ​was​ ​sentenced​ ​to​ ​53​ ​years​ ​in​ ​prison but​ ​was​ ​released​ ​after​ ​35.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​now​ ​a​ ​free​ ​man,"​ ​much​ ​as​ ​Hinkley​ ​is​ ​or​ ​soon​ ​will​ ​be. 

As​ ​O'Reilly​ ​pointedly​ ​describes,​ ​in​ ​the​ ​summer​ ​of​ ​1976​ ​Hinkley​ ​sat​ ​in​ ​the​ ​Egyptian Theater​ ​in​ ​Hollywood,​ ​"Just​ ​fifteen​ ​miles​ ​from​ ​the​ ​home​ ​of​ ​Ronald​ ​and​ ​Nancy​ ​Reagan, John​ ​Hinkley​ ​sits​ ​alone​ ​in​ ​this​ ​aging​ ​movie​ ​palace​ ​watching​ ​a​ ​new​ ​film​ ​Taxi​ ​Driver.​ ​It's​ ​a picture​ ​Hinkley​ ​will​ ​see​ ​more​ ​than​ ​fifteen​ ​times.​ ​The​ ​twenty​ ​one​ ​year​ ​old​ ​drifter,​ ​who continues​ ​to​ ​put​ ​on​ ​weight,​ ​wears​ ​an​ ​army​ ​surplus​ ​jacket​ ​and​ ​combat​ ​boots,​ ​just​ ​like the​ ​film's​ ​main​ ​character,​ ​Travis​ ​Bickle,...​who​ ​is​ ​played​ ​with​ ​frightening​ ​intensity​ ​by Robert​ ​De​ ​Nero."  

Now​ ​that's​ ​interesting​ ​that​ ​Taxi​ ​Driver​ ​is​ ​based​ ​on​ ​Bremer​ ​because​ ​Dallas​ ​radio broadcaster​ ​and​ ​founding​ ​member​ ​of​ ​David​ ​Phillips​ ​Association​ ​of​ ​Former​ ​Intelligence Officers​ ​Gordon​ ​McLendon​ ​reportedly​ ​had​ ​a​ ​major​ ​and​ ​influential​ ​interest​ ​in​ ​Columbia Pictures,​ ​the​ ​Hollywood​ ​company​ ​that​ ​made​ ​Taxi​ ​Driver.​

​And​ ​the​ ​Navy​ at the time ​was​ ​studying​ ​the effects​ ​repeated​ ​viewings​ ​of​ ​a​ ​violent​ ​film​ ​has​ ​on​ ​soldiers​ ​and​ ​potential​ ​assassins,​ ​as the​ ​London​ ​Sunday​ ​Times​ ​reported, and I mention in the Hinckley & Company article.

The two pre-assassination attempt incidents that certainly deserve mention are the December 1981 Libyan hit team threat to kill President Reagan [https://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1338&dat=19811204&id=mUFYAAAAIBAJ&sjid=U_kDAAAAIBAJ&pg=6706,1841255&hl=en ] and the Castro Plot to Murder Reagan that the Scripps-Howard News Service reported two weeks before Hinckley burst onto the scene, that attempts to blame the murder of Reagan on Castro even before it happens. [http://jfkcountercoup.blogspot.com/2012/11/castro-plot-to-murder-reagan.html], both of which are relevant to what happened and are not mentioned in “Killing Reagan.”

Nor​ ​do​ ​they​ ​bother​ ​to​ ​mention​ ​that​ on the morning of March 30, 1981, while​ ​Hinckley​ ​sat ​in​ ​his​ ​hotel​ ​room​ ​reading​ ​the President's​ ​daily​ ​schedule​ ​in​ ​the​ ​Washington​ ​Post, his​ ​brother​ Scott ​had​ ​a​ ​luncheon​ ​date with​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​sons​ ​of​ ​Vice​ ​President​ ​Bush,​ ​a​ ​fact​ ​that​ ​the​ ​mainstream​ ​media​ ​called​ ​a "bizarre"​ ​coincidence. 

As​ ​Ron​ ​Reagan​ ​said​ ​to​ ​Joey​ ​Bishop​ ​on​ ​TV​ ​the​ ​day​ ​after​ ​RFK​ ​was​ ​killed​ ​-​ ​though​ ​not​ ​by Sirhan B. Sirhan,​ ​as​ ​O'Reilly​ ​would​ ​have​ ​us​ ​believe​ ​-​ ​"The​ ​actions​ ​of​ ​the​ ​enemy​ ​led​ ​to​ ​and precipitated​ ​the​ ​tragedy​ ​of​ ​last​ ​night,"​ ​which​ ​O'Reilly​ ​translates​ ​to​ ​mean​ ​-​ ​"Because​ ​he (Reagan) believed​ ​it​ ​was​ ​agents​ ​of​ ​the​ ​USSR​ ​who​ ​killed​ ​RFK​ ​as​ ​well​ ​as​ ​his​ ​brother​ ​JFK​ ​in​ ​1963."​ ​

The enemy, according to O’Reilly and Dugard say -​ ​"The​ ​enemy​ ​sits​ ​in​ ​Moscow,"​ ​and​ ​they​ ​might​ ​add​ ​–​ ​Havana, as the

The handlers and controllers of the assassins are the enemy, not the Patsies like Oswald, Sirhan, Ray, Chapman, Bremer and Hinckley, and those who promote the cover-stories like O’Reilly and Dugard, are cohorts of the enemy, and like Bremer, are living free to spew their venom among us.

Also see: Andrew Kreig’s Justice Integrity Project report:

http://www.justice-integrity.org/faq/804-why-bill-o-reilly-s-lie-about-jfk-s-murder-might-matter-to-you