It may be, as Marina once said, that it was nothing but fame Lee was after. It may be that when he looked up from his books, it was not human beings he saw around him, but only an abstract vision of humanity. It may be that, struggling with the devils inside and pasting them onto politics, it was not others he was trying to help, only himself. And it may be that it was not truth he was seeking, only personal salvation. It may be that Lee was only an egotist after all.
But his ideals say something in his favor. He had lived in two great opposing social systems and tried to make sense of them. He believed that the perfect society would combine the best features of both. He thought that government ought to take care of people, give them medicine and education, guarantee their civil liberties and put an end to racial discrimination. And he believed in disarmament among nations.
It says something for Lee that the ideals he cherished were good ones, and that, had they been carried into practice, they would have meant a better life for others. Unlike the Nazis’, Lee’s was not an ideology of power. He opposed the supremacy of any racial or ethnic group over any other. He favored the weak over the strong. It was a better world he was after, and he had a generous vision.
And if at the end he failed, if the undertow of his old, angry, tumultuous self overwhelmed him one last time and swept him under, who is to deny that he made at least this attempt to carry his vision peacefully into practice?
New Orleans, in the summer of 1963, was the place where he made his last try.
PART FOUR
New Orleans, Mexico City, Dallas, 1963
— 26 —
Brief Separation
On the morning of Wednesday, April 24, Ruth Paine drove from Irving to Dallas and arrived on Neely Street with her two children, ready for another outing with the Oswalds, something like their picnic a few days before.[1] She was surprised to find the three of them, Lee, Marina, and little June, perched on a mountain of luggage.
The Oswalds explained that they had decided to move to New Orleans. Lee was going ahead to look for work, while Marina and the baby would stay on Neely Street, keeping only a minimum of possessions and waiting until Lee could send for them.
Lee asked Ruth to take him to the bus terminal. She agreed, and all six of them, children and grown-ups, crowded into Ruth’s station wagon around Lee’s gear. They drove to the Continental Trailways terminal, where Lee went inside to check his bags and buy two tickets, one for him to use that night and one for Marina when she came to join him.
Ruth sat in the station wagon gathering her thoughts. It would be hard for Marina on Neely Street without a telephone, knowing only a few words of English and with no easy way of reaching Lee. And the bus trip to New Orleans would be an ordeal. It was twelve or thirteen hours long, and Marina was pregnant. She would have a small child in tow, and although Lee was plainly carrying everything he could, she would still have clothing, dishes, a playpen, a stroller, and a crib to get on board.
Ruth had been worried about Marina almost from the moment they met.[2] She felt that Marina was lonely, troubled, and in need of a friend. She started worrying a good deal more after one of their outings in March, when Marina confided that Lee meant to send her back to Russia and she did not want to go. Marina had not mentioned it since, and Ruth was mystified as to where the Oswalds’ marriage stood. But both she and Michael felt that it was “cruel” of Lee not to let Marina learn English. They were appalled that she might have to go back to Russia against her will. It had occurred to them that they might be able to offer her an alternative if the need became acute. As Michael was to put it later: “I thought out of the largesse of this country it should be possible for her to stay here if she wanted to…. She struck me as a somewhat apolitical person and yet true, just, and conscientious, so it was agreeable to me to look forward to financing her stay until she could make her own way here.”[3]
Ruth had already done more than just think about helping out. Fearful that she might offend and that, with her limited Russian, she might not be able to find the proper words in conversation, she had sat down on April 7, taken out her English-Russian dictionary and, with enormous effort, written a letter to Marina. In it she suggested that if things became too difficult between her and Lee and they were not able to work out their problems, then she and June would be welcome to stay at the Paines’ for as long as they needed.[4] Ruth placed one condition on her offer: that she be able to speak to Lee directly about it and that Marina’s acceptance be agreeable to him. She had talked to Michael about her offer, but the fact is that Ruth was willing and able to make it because Michael was not living at home, there was an extra room, and she was lonely.
Ruth did not mail the letter. To come between the Oswalds was the last thing she wanted to do. But now, as she sat in the car, it occurred to her that she might be able to help during the days just ahead. Having summoned up language to write the letter, she realized that she had the words at her command to make her invitation in Russian, so that Marina, as well as Lee, would understand.
When Lee returned to the car, Ruth made her suggestion. Instead of going back to Neely Street, why didn’t Marina and June stay with her in Irving? As soon as Lee sent for them, she would drive them to New Orleans.
Lee did not hesitate. It is not even clear that he consulted Marina. He accepted, strode back into the terminal, redeemed Marina’s ticket, returned to the car, and handed Marina part of her fare to use as spending money. He did not offer to contribute to groceries or other costs of the suddenly expanded Paine household.
As they were driving back to Neely Street to pack up Marina’s and the baby’s possessions, Lee asked Ruth if she would stop for a moment at the central post office. Ruth noticed as he emerged that he was carrying a stack of magazines.[5] Lee had not closed his post office box; he merely cleared out what was in it. The “magazines” Ruth noticed may have included the fifty leaflets that the Fair Play for Cuba Committee had mailed on April 19 from New York.
When they got back to the apartment, Lee began to load the baby things into Ruth’s car—the playpen, the crib, the stroller. He packed up a box of dishes and laid Marina’s and the baby’s clothing loosely over them. Since the suitcases were going with him, Marina had at most an overnight bag.
The helter-skelter nature of his packing differed sharply from the careful job he had done the night before. Then, he gave everything the most sedulous attention and refused to let Marina help. It wasn’t woman’s work, he said. He had traveled more and had more practice. The result was that Marina forgot about the rifle. She forgot to ask what he was going to do with it—leave it with her or take it to New Orleans? But Marina was not as worried as she had been. Lee was calmer than she had seen him in months. He was subdued, even downcast, over their separation and the uncertainty ahead. Marina’s fears that he might try to shoot someone had subsided. She felt that his agreement to move signified a renunciation of violence—as, in a way, it did.
Ruth, Marina, and the children set off for Irving about four in the afternoon, leaving Lee behind in the apartment. Once again, just as when he moved from Fort Worth to Dallas, he had found someone to take care of Marina and June while he got settled in a new city. Ruth had been expected that day, and Lee knew that she would agree to drive him and his baggage to the bus station. Her last-minute offer to take Marina to Irving came as a convenient surprise; but Lee, in confronting Ruth with his helpless wife and child, must at least have been counting on her to watch out for them on Neely Street. He had, as usual, taken her help for granted. He stayed only a few hours in the Neely Street apartment after Marina and Ruth left, then boarded an evening bus for New Orleans.
3
Testimony of Michael R. Paine, Vol. 9, p. 460. Although Ruth apparently had already raised with Michael the idea of offering Marina a haven, I believe that Michael’s idea, as spelled out here, actually developed during the summer, after Marina’s stay at the Paines’ from April 24 to May 10, 1963.