Felt by Mark Felt

Author:Mark Felt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ebury Publishing

FOURTEEN

“HOOVER IS DEAD”

TUESDAY, MAY 2, 1972, began like any other day. I was up at 5:45 A.M. and ate breakfast while scanning Washington Post headlines so that I could answer Hoover’s questions about the key stories. By 6:45, I was on my way to the office, arriving there well before the official workday began in order to review the overnight teletypes and memorandums awaiting my action.

At 9:00 A.M., the day officially began. There were conferences, phone calls, and discussions with other Bureau officials. For me, the day would not end until 6:30 or 7:00 P.M., when the director left. It was a Bureau tradition that the director was the first to leave; in any case, we had a lot of work to keep us at our desks, often long into the night.

Shortly before 9:00 A.M. the two administrative assistants, Tolson’s and mine, and the two secretaries came in. Messengers arrived with large bundles of Bureau communications. Dorothy Skillman, Tolson’s assistant, told me that he would not be coming in—no surprise, because his minor strokes often kept him away from his desk. I filled in and made the necessary decisions, hoping that he would not later disagree. At 9:45 A.M., John P. Mohr, the assistant to the director in charge of administrative operations, walked into my office. I was surprised because usually he communicated on the intercom.

“He is dead,” John said, enunciating each word carefully. I thought he was talking about Tolson.

“Did he have another stroke?” I asked.

“Hoover is dead,” Mohr said. He watched as my expression changed to disbelief and then shock.

Tolson’s death would not have surprised me, but I could not grasp the reality of Hoover’s death. Just yesterday he had been his usual energetic self. It seemed impossible. Of course a seventy-seven-year-old man can go at any time, but I never thought Hoover could leave the scene so suddenly.

“He died sometime last night or early this morning. Annie, the housekeeper, found him,” John said. Dr. Choisser said it was a heart attack.

“Miss Gandy called me shortly after nine and I went up to see her,” John said. “I talked with Tolson at Hoover’s house and he asked me to handle funeral arrangements and notify the attorney general. Tolson is taking this pretty hard.”

“What was Kleindienst’s reaction? What did he say?”

“Not much at first,” John replied. “I told him that Tolson instructed Miss Gandy and me to handle the funeral arrangements, and I asked him if he wanted me to notify the White House. He said no. He wanted to call the president personally, and he was sure the White House would want to announce the death.”

I was relieved to have someone else handling the funeral arrangements because the days ahead were going to be difficult. I said, “That’s fine, John. Tolson won’t be coming in, and whatever you and Miss Gandy decide will be okay with me.”

John turned to leave and said, “I’ll fill you in on more details later, but I want to tell all the assistant directors before they hear the news by the grapevine.

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