At about the same time that the Kennedy administration was expressing its pride in achieving the first Soviet-American arms deal, the situation in Southeast Asia was heating up. The most significant development occurred on November 1 and 2 when rebellious officers from the South Vietnamese army kidnapped and then murdered President Ngo Dinh Diem and his brother Nhu Dinh Nhu, two Roman Catholics who were running South Vietnam—a nation of Buddhists—and who were quite controversial for their dictatorial policies. In fact, it was later revealed that Roger A. Hillsman, then assistant secretary of State for Far Eastern Affairs, had circulated a cable on August 23 which had been approved by Kennedy and other high officials urging the new U.S. Ambassador in Saigon, Henry Cabot Lodge, to urge the Vietnamese military to overthrow the Diem brothers in a coup.

But after the blow to its Asian policies, the Kennedy administration began focusing on the 1994 presidential elections, and Kennedy’s plans to seek re-election. To that end, Kennedy planned a trip to Texas in late November to win support.

Because I was a bachelor and only 28 at the time, I had agreed to become the president of The Star’s Newspaper Guild chapter. Other, older and married members did not want to waste their time at the endless Guild meetings I would have to attend. But 1963 was an important year for The Star’s unit because its contract with management needed to be renewed. And the members were adamant about securing a $200 weekly minimum salary for reporters and editors who had worked at least 5 years at The Star.  That’s a pittance today but in 1963 it was not. On November 22, a Friday, I was sitting at my desk in the back of the newsroom getting ready for a meeting with management that afternoon. Suddenly, I saw a surge of people around the news ticker machines at the front of the room. I rushed up to see what the commotion was about, and saw the first AP bulletin from Dallas which said simply “Kennedy shot.” A bit later it was reported he had died from his bullet wounds.

For someone like me who had identified with Kennedy’s Harvard connection and his relative youth, his assassination was a terrible shock and a personal loss.

But there was little time for mourning. The Star planned to go big in its final edition with the Dallas story, and an extra edition was also planned, to hit the streets about 6 p.m. I was asked to write a biography of Lyndon B. Johnson, who became the next president. I did so, relying on library clippings from our “morgue” where clippings were kept. Then, Roberta Hornig and I were asked to go to Johnson’s house in suburban Maryland and stand on the street, in case he came out to talk to reporters. Luckily it was a relatively warm November night. Johnson, who by the evening had been sworn in as president aboard the plane bringing Kennedy’s body back to Washington, did not emerge from his house, and so about 2 am we went home. The next day, I was in the office writing a biography of Lee Harvey Oswald, the assassin, who had defected to the Soviet Union in 1959 after being honorably discharged from the Marines. In June 1962, he and his Russian wife, Marina, returned to the United States, settling in Dallas. Luckily there was a good interview on file written from Moscow with Oswald focusing on why he would defect.

The next day, November 24, a Sunday, I was standing outside my house on Pennsylvania Avenue watching the procession go by with Kennedy’s casket, when I learned that Oswald had been killed by Jack Ruby in the Dallas police city jail building.

The negotiations with The Star on a new contract finally resumed, and we went to the wire. Finally, we were asked to continue the talks in the office of the Federal Mediators. At one point, Samuel Kauffmann, The Star’s publisher, said to me “You went to Harvard. How can you put up with that guy? He was referring to the Guild’s agent, who delighted in using profanities. I replied: “well, if you could come up with the $200 a week, we could all go home,” He finally agreed to it, provided I endorsed it personally to the membership meeting scheduled for the next morning at 9:00, a Sunday. I opened the meeting by saying: “I have good neews for you<” and everyone cheered. I was a hero for a day.