The limousine came to a stop. The First Lady held the lifeless President in her arms and mumbled, "They murdered my husband, they murdered my husband." A Secret Service agent helped her let go and put a coat over the President's bloody head. Orderlies placed him on a gurney and rolled him into emergency room one.

The President remained on the gurney in emergency room one. Dr. Peters, a savvy second year surgical resident, removed the coat covering the patient's head--he cringed at the devastation. The head and face were covered with blood. The patient was gray and still. Peters tossed the coat in a corner and took vital signs. Cardiovascular shock resulting from massive blood loss and shallow irregular breathing competed for attention. He called for two intravenous cut-down kits, eight units of type-O blood, a tracheotomy kit, and two more surgeons--STAT.

Nurse Henderson reacted instinctively, she removed the President's shirt, tossed it on top of the coat, and attached EKG Leads. A Secret Service agent, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the disaster, drifted around the room with a gun in his hand and stared into nothingness. Dr. McClelland, an accomplished neurosurgical resident, took one pensive look at the President's head and knew the prognosis was grim. He sat down on a rolling chair and began to evaluate the trauma. Nurse Henderson shaved and prepped both ankles for the cut-downs. Dr. Peters reported a faint heartbeat, weak pulse, and shallow breathing. Bookish Dr. Carrico entered the room and began the process of intubating and artificially ventilating the President. The doctors knew they were only prolonging the agony of death, but they continued to help their patient cling to life.

The First Lady entered the room, silently mourning the loss of her husband. Minutes earlier, she had felt his soul being pulled from his body and lifted to heaven. She knew the doctor’s efforts would fail, but she understood they had to try. She thanked God for blessing them with children.

Soft-spoken Dr. Crenshaw stationed himself at the President's right ankle and performed a cutdown. Dr. Peters noticed blood bubbling from the right side of the neck. Blood dripped from the back of the head onto the floor. Dr. McClelland rolled a bucket under the patient in time to catch a small piece of cerebellar tissue. He focused on the back of the head. A flap of scalp dangled next to a golf ball sized hole--a piece of skull was obviously missing. Being careful not to manipulate or probe the wound, he shined a penlight into the hole--a large amount of brain tissue was missing--he could see clear to the base of the skull. Dr. Peters listened to the breath sounds through his stethoscope and determined that the right lung had collapsed. He called for a chest tube kit.

Dr. McClelland didn't notice the massive wound on the top of the head--the First Lady had inadvertently covered it with the scalp flap. The President's bloody and matted hair obscured the wound. Dr. Carrico worked the intubation tube down the windpipe, "There's a laceration on the right wall of the trachea," he commented.

"That'd explain this bubbling neck wound," suggested Dr. Peters. He looked at the monitors and frowned.

"Is the neck wound an entry or exit?" asked Dr. McClelland.

"Small, round, smooth edges, prob’ly an entry wound," replied Dr. Peters. He made a small incision for the chest tube.

Dr. McClelland said, "The wound on the back of the head's large and jagged--most likely an exit wound."

"The bullet musta entered the front neck and exited the back of the head. That'd explain the tear in the tracheal wall," reasoned Dr. Carrico. "It'll be a miracle if it missed the carotid artery."

"I've got an intravenous line in," said Dr. Crenshaw.

Dr. Peters said, "Run blood and fluids wide open. Blood pressure's fifty over forty."

Chief of Surgery Dr. Perry entered. The younger doctors were glad to have the benefit of his experience. "The right lung isn't inflating," said Dr. Crenshaw. Dr. Perry began an emergency tracheotomy. He made an inch long incision in the front of the neck, very close to the bubbling neck wound. The EKG went flat.

Tears streamed down the First Lady's face. Blood covered her hands and dress. She fiddled with her wedding ring.

The doctors did the best they could do with a hopeless situation. The President's condition worsened. A Priest prayed quietly with the First Lady.

Outside emergency room one, the bedlam intensified. Policemen with shotguns guarded the doorways, Secret Service agents with pistols guarded the policemen, FBI agents were treated like suspects, and hospital personnel were required to produce identification. You couldn't tell the cops from the suspects without a program. Reporters pushed and shoved, trying to get close to the story. Rumors spread malignantly.

Silence and sadness filled emergency room one; all five doctors knew the score. Dr. Perry forced himself to speak the words everyone dreaded hearing, "I'm sorry Mrs. Kennedy, your husband has passed away."

"Thank you for trying," said the First Lady. "I know you did your best." A nurse began sobbing; she had to leave the room. The five doctors slowly and quietly stepped out. The First Lady kissed her husband goodbye.

Press Secretary Kilduff and the doctors finally began the conference. Hungry for a big story, the boisterous reporters and rude photographers competed viciously for scraps of news. Kilduff made an opening statement, "The President expired at 12:30 p.m. He died from a gunshot wound." Reporters let loose with an avalanche of questions.

"How many times was he hit?"

"Was Mrs. Kennedy wounded?"

"How many guns shot at him?"

"Were there any threats against him before the shooting?"

"Did he have any surgery?"

Kilduff tried to get the situation under control. "One question at a time, please."

"Where was the President hit?"

Kilduff pointed at the right side of his head with his index finger. "He was shot in the head."

The reporters launched another barrage of questions.

"Do you mean on the side of the head¾ right there where you pointed?"

"Do the police have a suspect?"

"How many times was he hit?"

"Did he die instantly? Was there any treatment?"

"What kind of a gun?"

The press conference was all questions with no answers¾ all heat and no light. Kilduff knew he needed to provide some specifics.

At the door to room one, the conflict escalated. Dr. Rose, the Secret Service agent, and the armed guard continued debating what to do with the body. Two men from the mortuary rolled a casket into the fray. "We're here to pick up the President," announced one of them.

"I can't let you have the body until an autopsy's been done," explained Dr. Rose.

A second agent brought new instructions. "Cinderella wants Bronco with her on the flight back. Let's get him moved before the press conference breaks up."

Dr. Rose continued protesting.

The agents allowed the mortuary men to enter room one. The two men shook as they performed their morbid duty. They wrapped the head in a white sheet¾ inadvertently covering the rear head wound with its scalp flap and accidentally opening the flap at the top of the head. They removed the IV lines and tracheotomy tubing from the body before placing it in the casket. They grabbed the bloody clothes and rolled the deceased to the door. Dr. Rose tried to stop them, everyone ran out of patience and the scene got ugly. The guard put the shotgun up to Rose's throat and forced him to back away from the casket. Rose had no further objections. They loaded the casket in the hearse.

The press conference continued. Kilduff didn't know the answers to the tough questions, so he let the doctors speak. Expecting better information, the reporters finally settled down.

"How many times was the President hit?"

"Once for sure¾ possibly twice," said Dr. Peters.

"Did he die instantly?"

"He was still alive when he reached the hospital," said Dr. Carrico.

"Where was he wounded?"

"We saw two wounds, right anterior neck, and right posterior head," said Dr. McClelland. "We concentrated on resuscitation¾ didn't do a detailed evaluation of the wounds. The Pathologists will do that."

"Was he hit from the front, or the rear?"

"Must've been hit from the front," said Dr. Peters. "The bullet may have been deflected by the spinal column and redirected out the back of the head. The wound's rather puzzling."

"Did you recover any bullets? Do you know the caliber of the guns?" The doctors agreed that no bullets had been recovered.

"Eyewitnesses say the shots came from behind. How do you explain the frontal wound?"

"It's possible he was turned around and looking back when he got hit," said Dr. McClelland. "There's no way for me to know about that. I just don't know."

The Press Secretary felt uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

The press conference continued. Obsessively interested in every detail related to the case, Jack Ruby slipped into the back of the room. The reporters continued the flurry of questions.

"Are you sure he was only hit once?"

"Once for sure and possibly twice," said Dr. Peters.

"The Pathologists will make that determination," reiterated Dr. Perry.

"Did you say the neck wound was the entry wound?"

"Probably an entry wound," said Dr. McClelland.

"How many bullets did you find?"

"We didn't recover any bullets," said Dr. Perry.

"Did the bullet pass clear through him?"

That's a possibility," said Dr. McClelland.

Kilduff decided to put an end to the questioning. "That's all for now." He waved the doctors out of the room¾ they were glad to leave the spotlight.