Page 114 of Jackie

I skim the numbered list.

Betraying the Constitution

Turning the sovereignty of the U.S. over to the communist controlled United Nations.

WRONG on innumerable issues affecting the security of the U.S.

Farther down:

He has given support and encouragement to the Communist-inspired racial riots…. Aliens and known Communists abound….

I set down the leaflet.

“How can they even think this, let alone print it?”

“Texas,” Kenny says.

“I don’t like it here, Jack,” I say. “They don’t like you at all.”

“They don’t like change,” Jack says. He taps the leaflet. “Keep one to frame.”

…

12:20 Main Street, Dallas.

Clint Hill jogs alongside the car. Every few blocks, he hops up on the running board to catch his breath, until Jack throws him a look; then Clint hops off and starts jogging again in the street. The sun strikes off the dark waxed surface of the car. We pass the looming stretch of a department store.

One intersection, then another. A turn.

The crowd swells and ebbs. It’s like any other crowd, a tide of faces, waving hands, bunting, loud cheers in the hot white glare of the sun. Behind them, the expressionless blank windows of factory buildings flank the street.

Another turn.

Up ahead, a tract of green where the space opens—trees, blue free sky.

“You can’t say Dallas doesn’t love you, Mr. President,” Nellie Connally says, twisting around in her seat, a wide smile, bright-pink cheeks.

Jack smiles back at her. “No, you can’t.”

An underpass ahead.

Jack

12:31 p.m. CST

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