The Lacey Confession by Richard Greener Read Free Book Online

procedure and he would issue the Commission’s report to the American people. “I want that report as soon as possible, right away. I know Christmas is too soon. Only a month away. It’s not the best time either, but I want it done no later than six to eight weeks, about the middle of January, first of February.”
    Warren asked a few questions. Politics was out, said Johnson. No divisions were required for staffing. Neither of the American political parties would be entitled to staff quotas or other perks of that nature. “You pick ’em all. That simple,” said Johnson. To facilitate matters, the Court’s regular docket could be delayed for a couple of months. “We know—you and me, we know—sitting right here this minute—the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court and the President—we know it was Lee Harvey Oswald who did this by himself, acting alone, not part of any group, not working for any nation. Did it, just simply by himself. We know that. We don’t know why. We may never know why. We may never be sure. But we can be sure of this—our entire nation could come apart at the seams—the greatest and most powerful society in the history of human civilization—and it could all be destroyed unless we bring this to a proper end and put this matter to rest for good.”
    Warren talked awhile about some of the specifics Johnson had mentioned, mainly procedural and technical areas—how the Commission would be chartered, the methods for keeping records and drawing funds, the jurisdictional problems which affect any enterprise involving more than one of the three branches of government. Finally, he added what he wanted to sound like an afterthought, no more than a casual personal reference, but what really constituted his reply to the President’s request and the reason for this meeting. “I would have to rule out my own participation,” he said. “Serving on this type of a commission would, as I see it, constitute an inappropriate judicial role for a sitting Chief Justice.” Such an American thought. The anger and frustration in Johnson’s eyes, Warren wrote in his journal, were almost palpable. “But,” Warren said to his President, “I can prepare a short list of retired Federal Judges, some quite well known . . .”
    â€œYou don’t seem to follow me,” said Johnson, restraining himself as best he could. “The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of The United States of America—that’s who’s needed. The report of this Commission will be the most important document our government issues in this century. It must be beyond reproach. Its stamp of truth must be the stamp of—it must be your stamp! It has to be the Warren Commission!”
    â€œI’m sorry, Mr. President. I cannot accept. I think I fully . . .”
    â€œMr. Chief Justice,” interrupted the President, like a man slamming on the brakes of a runaway truck. “I want you to think about it. Hold your answer. Think about the grave national crisis threatening to overwhelm us. Think about the brave young man we’re gonna bury tomorrow, his family, your family, our national family. I won’t take your final answer now. Just you think about it and we’ll talk some more.” LBJ smiled broadly and shook the Chief Justice’s hand as he would have had he been stumping for votes, gripping Warren’s hand firmly with his own right hand while his left covered Warren’s wrist. It didn’t hurt, wrote Warren. Nevertheless, he went on, I felt the President’s handshake all the way home.
    Neither Warren’s wait nor his sleep lasted too long. At 5:50 am the doorbell rang. A tired and half-dressed housekeeper answered. She was greeted by two agents of the Secret Service. A limo, with the motor running, was parked at the curb. She woke the Chief Justice, told him the President wanted to see him