Turning history on a dime

Few moments in human history command as much power and fascination as Friday, November 22, 1963. The Kennedy assassination has been analyzed, re-analyzed and re-re-analyzed through innumerable filters and perspectives, making it tough to bring anything new to the conversation. Author Jeff Greenfield, however, has managed to do just that—his new book, “If Kennedy Lived: The First and Second Terms of President John F. Kennedy: An Alternate History,” imagines a vivid world where Kennedy survived. Greenfield will speak about his work at the Toledo-Lucas County Public Library on November 7 as part of the Authors! Authors! Series. Russ Axon spoke with Greenfield about bringing Kennedy back to life and more.

What will you talk about at your Toledo presentation?

I’m going to be talking about not simply my book but also what the point is of alternate history. What do you learn from trying to take reality and explain how close we came to living a different history? What does that teach us about the lives we did lead, the lives we might have lead? And also, [I’ll talk about] what I consider the highly contingent nature of history—a lot of historians think this is a silly enterprise, you know; why talk about what didn’t happen? But if you work at it, and be plausible about it, and look at what almost happened, it teaches you a lot, I think, about how history works and how close we might have came to living a very different sort of life.

Why do you go the narrative format, as opposed to a straightforward approach like an essay?

I think putting it in narrative terms brings it more alive. It puts flesh on the bones, instead of just saying, “So Kennedy, after he survived Dallas, would’ve looked very hard at Vietnam and called his advisors together.” Well, most of what’s in my book comes from reality, so I describe that meeting—who he might’ve brought in, who he might’ve listened to, how the arguments might’ve gone. I just think it is a more arresting way [of storytelling].

Now in the hands of a genuine novelist, like Phillip Roth—[his novel] “The Plot Against America” shows what a Lindbergh presidency would’ve been like through the eyes of a Jewish family in New Jersey [during the 1940s] that increasingly feels oppressed by what’s going on. Now, I’m not that kind of a novelist, I’m not deserving of the Nobel Prize for Literature like Roth is, but I do think there’s something to be said for telling a story and using the best historical evidence you can assemble to tell the story.

When changing history, do you focus on broad moments or specific details?

The premise of the book is that the rain didn’t stop in Dallas. The last minute when Kennedy arrived in Dallas, just as he was coming in, the skies cleared, and that’s why they took the bubble-top off the limousine. So, if you keep the rain going and the bubble-top stays on, the odds of Kennedy’s survival increase dramatically. And that’s the McGuffin, that’s the premise.

But what that raises: OK, [if Kennedy lived,] why would Lyndon Johnson not have hung around much longer? Because the day Kennedy was shot—indeed the very moments he was being shot—Life Magazine was running a major investigation into how [Johnson] got so rich as a lifelong public servant, a senate committee was looking into serious charges that he had taken kickbacks with his business enterprise. And so none of those stories were publicized because after Dallas, nobody wanted to bring more grief on our new president bearing this enormous burden. But if Kennedy survives, those investigations, I think, accelerate because there’s a fear of this guy now being a heartbeat from the presidency, and I think there was a good chance he could not have remained vice president. That’s one example; obviously I talk about Vietnam, Civil Rights, the ’64 election, whether his private life would’ve become a matter of public knowledge. All of these things flow from the fact that he would be around for five more years.

Why do you think Kennedy is still fascinating after all this time?

I think there are two answers: one is that the four days following the assassination were the most intense days that anyone who was around there probably ever lived through, at least until 9/11. It was a shocking, searing experience that every conscious American experienced in front of their television sets. Anyone who was around then, whether you were 10 years old or 40 years old and you’re still around today, you just don’t forget that. And because of the element of tape, succeeding generations have had the experience of kind of reliving that or seeing it.

The second thing is that very shortly after his death, within like two years, we were at war in Vietnam, the cities were burning, there was inflamed racial tension, the generation gap had become a chasm, and I think people still look back at the early ’60s and say that was just a more pleasant time: the economy was in good shape, the Cold War seemed to be on the mend, the March on Washington seemed to portend the kind of peaceful resolution of the issue of racial injustice.

So, I think those two reasons combined suggest that there’s a very powerful pull [from that event]. Now, I think by the time November 22 comes around there’s going to be backlash. “All right already, we’ve had enough!” And I don’t think we’ll ever see that again. I think this is kind of the last of it—50 years means that if you were 20 years old back then, as I was, you’re 70 today. And it’s highly unlikely that a 100th anniversary will see anybody around who goes, “Oh yes, I remember that.” So, this is kind of a last look back, I think, at the intensity that it’s likely to bring.

You spoke about lessons that can be learned from considering alternate histories. What do you hope readers learn from this book?

The first is how history turns on a dime. The notion that whatever happened had to happen I think is just not right … The woman who is my wife I met because at the last minute she decided to come to a dinner; otherwise, I probably never would have seen her. The work that I wound up doing was the result in large measure of taking one course in law school rather than another. I think most people experience that, and I think it’s a way to remind ourselves that history pivots on very small matters. At the least, when people tell you who’s going to be president in 2016, you ought to take that with a pound of salt, because as we’ve seen, history can alter dramatically just on the flimsiest of reasons.

The second thing is it’s kind of interesting to ask what character traits would’ve made a huge difference if this leader had been in power instead of that leader. Franklin Roosevelt was almost killed in Miami in 1933 before he was sworn in; it’s just an accident of fate that the assassin got to the park a few minutes late. Can you imagine the Depression and WWII without Roosevelt at the helm? That’s why. I think it’s interesting.

You’ve written multiple novels, won three Emmys for your reporting, and held down jobs as a speechwriter, political commentator, columnist and more. How do you maintain that drive at 70?

I’ve switched gears now, I think. I’m at work now on a novel. It’s a different phase of life, and I like what I did a lot, but at my age I don’t have time to write a book every 10 years if I want to do a fair number of books. So, I’m living between New York and Santa Barbara, and I’m trying to write as much as I can, as long as I’m decently coherent.

Few moments in human history command as much power and fascination as Friday, November 22, 1963. The Kennedy assassination has been analyzed, re-analyzed and re-re-analyzed through innumerable filters and perspectives, making it tough to bring anything new to the conversation. Author Jeff Greenfield, however, has managed to do just that—his new book, “If Kennedy Lived: The First and Second Terms of President John F. Kennedy: An Alternate History,” imagines a vivid world where Kennedy survived. Greenfield will speak about his work at the Toledo-Lucas County Public Library on November 7 as part of the Authors! Authors! Series. Russ Axon spoke with Greenfield about bringing Kennedy back to life and more.

What will you talk about at your Toledo presentation?

I’m going to be talking about not simply my book but also what the point is of alternate history. What do you learn from trying to take reality and explain how close we came to living a different history? What does that teach us about the lives we did lead, the lives we might have lead? And also, [I’ll talk about] what I consider the highly contingent nature of history—a lot of historians think this is a silly enterprise, you know; why talk about what didn’t happen? But if you work at it, and be plausible about it, and look at what almost happened, it teaches you a lot, I think, about how history works and how close we might have came to living a very different sort of life.

Why do you go the narrative format, as opposed to a straightforward approach like an essay?

I think putting it in narrative terms brings it more alive. It puts flesh on the bones, instead of just saying, “So Kennedy, after he survived Dallas, would’ve looked very hard at Vietnam and called his advisors together.” Well, most of what’s in my book comes from reality, so I describe that meeting—who he might’ve brought in, who he might’ve listened to, how the arguments might’ve gone. I just think it is a more arresting way [of storytelling].

Now in the hands of a genuine novelist, like Phillip Roth—[his novel] “The Plot Against America” shows what a Lindbergh presidency would’ve been like through the eyes of a Jewish family in New Jersey [during the 1940s] that increasingly feels oppressed by what’s going on. Now, I’m not that kind of a novelist, I’m not deserving of the Nobel Prize for Literature like Roth is, but I do think there’s something to be said for telling a story and using the best historical evidence you can assemble to tell the story.

When changing history, do you focus on broad moments or specific details?

The premise of the book is that the rain didn’t stop in Dallas. The last minute when Kennedy arrived in Dallas, just as he was coming in, the skies cleared, and that’s why they took the bubble-top off the limousine. So, if you keep the rain going and the bubble-top stays on, the odds of Kennedy’s survival increase dramatically. And that’s the McGuffin, that’s the premise.

But what that raises: OK, [if Kennedy lived,] why would Lyndon Johnson not have hung around much longer? Because the day Kennedy was shot—indeed the very moments he was being shot—Life Magazine was running a major investigation into how [Johnson] got so rich as a lifelong public servant, a senate committee was looking into serious charges that he had taken kickbacks with his business enterprise. And so none of those stories were publicized because after Dallas, nobody wanted to bring more grief on our new president bearing this enormous burden. But if Kennedy survives, those investigations, I think, accelerate because there’s a fear of this guy now being a heartbeat from the presidency, and I think there was a good chance he could not have remained vice president. That’s one example; obviously I talk about Vietnam, Civil Rights, the ’64 election, whether his private life would’ve become a matter of public knowledge. All of these things flow from the fact that he would be around for five more years.

Why do you think Kennedy is still fascinating after all this time?

I think there are two answers: one is that the four days following the assassination were the most intense days that anyone who was around there probably ever lived through, at least until 9/11. It was a shocking, searing experience that every conscious American experienced in front of their television sets. Anyone who was around then, whether you were 10 years old or 40 years old and you’re still around today, you just don’t forget that. And because of the element of tape, succeeding generations have had the experience of kind of reliving that or seeing it.

The second thing is that very shortly after his death, within like two years, we were at war in Vietnam, the cities were burning, there was inflamed racial tension, the generation gap had become a chasm, and I think people still look back at the early ’60s and say that was just a more pleasant time: the economy was in good shape, the Cold War seemed to be on the mend, the March on Washington seemed to portend the kind of peaceful resolution of the issue of racial injustice.

So, I think those two reasons combined suggest that there’s a very powerful pull [from that event]. Now, I think by the time November 22 comes around there’s going to be backlash. “All right already, we’ve had enough!” And I don’t think we’ll ever see that again. I think this is kind of the last of it—50 years means that if you were 20 years old back then, as I was, you’re 70 today. And it’s highly unlikely that a 100th anniversary will see anybody around who goes, “Oh yes, I remember that.” So, this is kind of a last look back, I think, at the intensity that it’s likely to bring.

You spoke about lessons that can be learned from considering alternate histories. What do you hope readers learn from this book?

The first is how history turns on a dime. The notion that whatever happened had to happen I think is just not right … The woman who is my wife I met because at the last minute she decided to come to a dinner; otherwise, I probably never would have seen her. The work that I wound up doing was the result in large measure of taking one course in law school rather than another. I think most people experience that, and I think it’s a way to remind ourselves that history pivots on very small matters. At the least, when people tell you who’s going to be president in 2016, you ought to take that with a pound of salt, because as we’ve seen, history can alter dramatically just on the flimsiest of reasons.

The second thing is it’s kind of interesting to ask what character traits would’ve made a huge difference if this leader had been in power instead of that leader. Franklin Roosevelt was almost killed in Miami in 1933 before he was sworn in; it’s just an accident of fate that the assassin got to the park a few minutes late. Can you imagine the Depression and WWII without Roosevelt at the helm? That’s why. I think it’s interesting.

You’ve written multiple novels, won three Emmys for your reporting, and held down jobs as a speechwriter, political commentator, columnist and more. How do you maintain that drive at 70?

I’ve switched gears now, I think. I’m at work now on a novel. It’s a different phase of life, and I like what I did a lot, but at my age I don’t have time to write a book every 10 years if I want to do a fair number of books. So, I’m living between New York and Santa Barbara, and I’m trying to write as much as I can, as long as I’m decently coherent.