In 1995, as I reviewed my calendar for the week, a vague entry caught my eye: “Lunch with the President.” I couldn’t recall scheduling a meeting with any corporate president and asked my assistant to investigate.
Minutes later, our public relations officer burst into my office. “I’m so sorry,” she said breathlessly. “You’re having lunch with President Gerald Ford.”
You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.
New York Life, where I was vice chairman, was the sole sponsor of PBS’s The Presidents television series, which afforded me the opportunity to meet several former U.S. presidents. This would be the first.
Naturally, I assumed this would be a large gathering with our company chairman and president seated at the head table. I was simply looking forward to being in the room.
Then, just an hour before the event, our public relations officer appeared again. “Fred,” she said, “you’re hosting the luncheon.” Both the chairman and the company president were out of town.
Only five people would attend: President Ford, historian Hugh Sidey, our head of HR, our PR officer, and me.
Panic set in.
I immediately turned to prayer, asking God to guide my words and calm my nerves. I called in two trusted colleagues—conversationalists with a knack for history—who helped me identify possible questions. Then I turned to a subject I’d studied for years: the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.
President Ford had been a member of the Warren Commission. I’d read much of the 26 volumes of its findings, particularly Volume 5, which included Ford’s jailhouse interview with Jack Ruby—the man who killed Lee Harvey Oswald. In that transcript, Ruby suggested he had more to reveal but felt unsafe in Dallas. He pleaded to be moved to Washington, where he promised to tell the full story. The request was denied. Ruby died in prison months later.
I was eager to ask President Ford: Why wasn’t Ruby moved to Washington?
The lunch began smoothly. I delivered my opening remarks without notes. President Ford was warm, relaxed, and candid—sharing stories about his presidency, family, and Betty Ford’s rehabilitation work.
As the conversation flowed, I watched for the right moment to pose my question.
Then Hugh Sidey jumped in: “Mr. President, as the only surviving member of the Warren Commission, what are your thoughts now about the single-bullet theory?” That theory, if true, convincingly pointed to more than one shooter.
Ford, who had been leaning back comfortably, straightened sharply and slammed his fist on the table three times.
“That Oswald was a lunatic!” he declared. “He did it alone, and I never saw any evidence to the contrary!”
The air shifted. I knew immediately through a divine nudge, that I could not ask my burning question without further aggravating President Ford.
The mood lightened again, and for the remainder of the lunch, we avoided controversy. When President Ford finally checked his watch and apologized for staying so long, I felt grateful—not just for the experience, but for the divine restraint that had kept me from jeopardizing it.
In the years since, I’ve often reflected on that moment. Ford went to his grave with very few people aware of his direct interaction with Jack Ruby. I may never get an answer to my question, but I’m convinced that the Holy Spirit was guiding me that day. Sometimes wisdom is knowing what not to ask—and being grateful for what God allows you to experience when you listen.
2 Responses
Hello Fred,
I am here because I read everything that I notice regarding that November day. I did not know of this jail house interview. I am aware of Dorothy Kilgalen’s.. IF you wouldn’t mind, what is your own beliefs regarding Ruby’s request to transfer to DC?
Thanks for your wisdom,
Why wasn’t Ruby moved to Washington?
Gerald F: Hello, and I appreciate your question. You’re referring to the case of Jack Ruby, the man who shot Lee Harvey Oswald, and why he wasn’t moved to Washington to stand trial there. Well, from my perspective, Ruby’s situation was quite complicated, both legally and emotionally. Back in the early ‘60s, when Ruby shot Oswald, the nation was still reeling from the assassination of President Kennedy. The Warren Commission was diligently working to uncover the truth, and in many ways, Ruby’s act added another layer of mystery and emotional turmoil. Ruby was held in Dallas for quite some time before being transferred to a county jail, and there was a lot of concern about security, local jurisdiction, and the sensitivity of the case. In terms of why he wasn’t moved to Washington, it largely came down to jurisdiction and security considerations. Dallas authorities believed they could provide the appropriate legal process, and transferring someone like Ruby—who was considered mentally unstable and emotionally volatile—was a delicate matter. There were also concerns about the safety of all involved, given the high-profile nature of the case. Moving him to Washington could have complicated the legal proceedings or posed security risks, especially in the tense atmosphere of the time. From my own experience, I’ve seen how local jurisdictions often have a significant say in the handling of cases involving high-profile figures. It’s a matter of ensuring that justice is administered fairly and securely. Moreover, given the national grief over Kennedy’s assassination, I believe many felt that the case needed to be handled with care, respecting both the legal process and the emotional weight carried by the American people. As someone who’s always believed in honest government and healing our nation’s wounds, I think the decision reflected a desire to manage the situation carefully and avoid further turmoil. Ruby’s case, in many ways, underscored the importance of clarity, security, and jurisdiction in handling such sensitive matters. Now, thinking about the broader picture, how do you see the handling of such high-profile cases influencing public trust in government and justice today?