Original publish date: December 13, 2018
I’m not the only “History Nerd” in my family. A while back, Rhonda asked me to to tell her the story about the “Kennedy Car Bomb.” What? I replied. I have NO idea what you’re talking about, but, DO go on. She then outlined the story about a 73-year-old postal worker who hatched a plot to kill President-elect John F. Kennedy back in December of 1960 to keep the “Catholics” from taking over the world. This Saturday marks the the 58th anniversary of the arrest of Richard Paul Pavlick, a retired United States postal worker from New Hampshire whose name is familiar to only the most dedicated assassinologists out there.
Pavlick was born on February 13, 1887, in Belmont, New Hampshire. Belmont was also known as Upper Gilmanton in reference to the town of Gilmanton located four miles away. Gilmanton is best known for two pop-culture references. First, it was the model for the scandalous New England town setting for both the novel and the Soap Opera “Peyton Place” and was in fact the birthplace of the story’s author Grace Metalious in 1964. And second, Gilmanton is the birthplace of America’s first serial killer, H.H. Holmes (Herman Webster Mudgett) on May 16, 1861.
After serving in the U.S. Army during World War I, Richard Pavlick was appointed postmaster at one of several branches in heavily Irish Catholic, Democratic Boston, Massachusetts. Pavlick owed his appointment to President Calvin Coolidge, a fellow New Englander. Pavlick, a loyal Republican, hated Catholics and Democrats with a burning passion. And most of all he hated Boston’s powerful Fitzgerald and Kennedy Families. After he retired in the 1950s, Pavlick spent most of his days writing enraged and belligerent letters to public figures, magazines and newspapers.
73-year-old Pavlick, like all assassins (would-be or otherwise), was a nobody from 
nowhere. He lived alone and had no family to speak of. Locals in his hometown of Belmont remember him for his angry political rants and public outbursts at local public meetings. After accusing the town of poisoning his water, Pavlick once confronted the local water company supervisor with a gun, which was then promptly confiscated. His central complaint was that the American flag was not being displayed appropriately. He often criticized the government and blamed most of the country’s problems on the Catholics. But the perpetually grumpy, prune-faced Pavlick focused most of his anger on the Kennedy family and their “undeserved” wealth.
Pavlick’s hatred toward the Kennedy clan boiled over after the close of the 1960 election when John F. Kennedy defeated Republican Richard Nixon to become President of the United States. JFK’s election sent Pavlick to new heights of paranoid rage. At that moment, Dick Pavlick determined that Kennedy would never serve a single day in office. Pavlick became convinced the pope would be running the government from Rome. He started to make comments like “someone should shoot him (Kennedy) before he takes office.” One witness heard Pavlick say, “The Kennedy money bought him the White House” and that Pavlick “wanted to teach the United States the presidency is not for sale.”
Pavlick signed over his run-down property to a local organization known as the Spaulding Youth Center, packed everything he owned into the back of his 1950 Buick and left town. Soon, Thomas M. Murphy, Belmont’s 34-year-old U.S. Postmaster began receiving bizarre rambling rant postcards from Pavlick stating that soon, the town would hear from him “in a big way.”
It had been almost a century-and-a-half since New England had produced a U.S. President (John & John Quincy Adams) so Granite Staters took a keen interest in their new Commander-in-Chief from Massachusetts. Postmaster Murphy was concerned at the strange tone of the postcards, so he did what postmasters do; he began looking at the postmarks. Murphy noticed that the postmarks were from communities where Kennedy had recently visited and the dates coincided with those visits. Murphy contacted a local police officer named Earl Sweeney, who then contacted the Secret Service.
The Secret Service uncovered several rambling, vaguely threatening letters which Pavlick had sent to President Dwight D. Eisenhower. Later, agents discovered that not only was Pavlick stalking Kennedy on the campaign trail, he had also visited the Kennedy compound at Hyannis Port, cased the house in Georgetown and traveled south to the family winter quarters at Palm Beach. Along the way, Pavlick photographed the Kennedy homes, cars, family and friends, all while checking out JFK’s security. When agents interviewed locals they learned about Pavlick’s explosive temper and worse, that Pavlick had recently purchased enough dynamite which, according to a Secret Service official, was “enough to blow up a small mountain.” They immediately put out a nationwide alert for Pavlick with descriptions of him and his Buick.
Shortly before 10 a.m. on December 11, 1960, Kennedy was in Palm Beach, Florida preparing to assume the office of the President by deciding on his Cabinet selections and working on his Inaugural address. Unbeknownst to the President-elect, Pavlick had shadowed Kennedy south with the intention of blowing himself up and taking JFK with him. His plan was simple and deadly. He loaded his car with 10 sticks of dynamite, packed them into the body of the car and wired them to a detonator switch within easy reach of the driver’s seat. Then, he parked outside the Kennedy’s Palm Beach compound, positioned his car near the door and waited. His plan was to sit tight until Kennedy left the house to attend Sunday Mass at St. Edward Church and then ram his car into JFK’s limo in a Kamikaze attack.
Luckily for Mr. Kennedy, fate stepped in to save the day… and the President-elect’s life. Kennedy did not leave his house alone that morning. Much to Pavlick’s surprise, JFK opened the door holding the hand of his 3-year-old daughter Caroline alongside his wife, Jacqueline who was holding the couple’s newborn son John, Jr., less than a month old. While Pavlick hated John F. Kennedy, he hadn’t signed up to kill Kennedy’s family. So Pavlick eased his itchy trigger-finger off the detonator switch and let the Kennedy limousine glide harmlessly past his car. No one realized that the beat-up old Buick and the white haired old man in it was literally a ticking time bomb. Pavlick glared at the car as it slipped away and decided he would try again another day. Luckily, he never got a second chance.
Over the next few days, Pavlick planned his next opportunity to kill the Catholic President. Pavlick came up with a brand new plan. This time, he would enter St. Edward Church wearing a dynamite vest and explode it during Mass the next Sunday. Apparently the thought of killing innocent bystanders was no longed a concern. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kill JFK and take as many Catholics with him along the way. A couple of days later, while visiting the inside of the church to scout it’s lay out, his disheveled appearance and suspicious behavior aroused suspicion. He was escorted out of the church and the incident reported to the police. The Secret Service now knew that Pavlick was definitely in town and actively pursuing Kennedy. But one problem remained. Where was Richard Paul Pavlick?
Next Week: PART II
The card reads: “Greetings of the Season and Best Wishes for a Happy New Year. Baseball’s Professional Clowning Champions- 35th Consecutive Annual Tour! Indianapolis Clowns Ed Hamman, Bus. Mgr. Syd Pollack, Gen. Mgr. Box 84- Hollywood, Florida” inside. The original mailing envelope has the return address on front and same on back via an embossed stamp on the back. The Christmas card was sent to the Babe Ruth Baseball League in Vero Beach, Florida. True baseball fans will recognize Vero Beach as the spring training home of former Negro leader Jackie Robinson’s Brooklyn Dodgers and later the Koufax/Drysdale Los Angeles Dodgers. For a baseball fanatic, there is a lot going on in this little Christmas card.
The team photo pictures 10 players in old wool baseball uniforms standing in a line with another four players dressed in comic field costumes including a female player holding one of the Clowns’ trademark props, a grossly oversized baseball bat. The Clowns were one of the first professional baseball teams to hire a female player. They featured three prominent women players on their roster in the 1950s: Mamie “Peanut” Johnson (1935-2017) a right handed pitcher who went 33-8 in 3 seasons with the Clowns, Constance “Connie” Morgan (1935-1996) who played 2 seasons at second base for the Clowns and the first female player in the Negro Leagues, Marcenia “Toni” Stone (1921-1996) who once got a hit off of Satchel Paige.
knew how to order off the menu. Aaron first experienced overt northern style racism while playing with the Clowns. The team was in Washington, D.C. and a few of the Clowns’ players decided to grab a pregame breakfast in a restaurant behind Griffith Stadium. The players were seated and served but after they finished their meals, they could hear the sounds of employees breaking all the plates in the kitchen. Aaron and his teammates were stung by the irony of being in the capital of the “Land of Freedom” whose employees felt they “had to destroy the plates that had touched the forks that had been in the mouths of black men. If dogs had eaten off those plates, they’d have washed them.”
During Aaron’s tenure the Clowns were a powerhouse team in the Negro American League. However, the story of the Indianapolis Clowns does not begin, or end, with the Hank Aaron connection. The team traces their origins back to the 1930s. They began play as the independent Ethiopian Clowns, joined the Negro American League as the Cincinnati Clowns and, after a couple of years, relocated to Indianapolis. The team was formed in Miami, Florida, sometime around 1935-1936 and was originally known as the Miami Giants. After a couple years the team changed its name to the Miami Ethiopian Clowns and hit the road to become the longest running barnstorming team in professional baseball history.
Harlem Globetrotter star “Goose” Tatum also played for the Clowns during this time. Goose was as much of a showman on the diamond as he was on the basketball court. Whether fielding balls with a glove triple the size of a normal one, confusing opposing players with hidden ball tricks or playing second base while seated in a rocking chair, Tatum was amazing. During the same era, Richard “King Tut” King played the field using an enormous first baseman’s mitt and occasionally augmenting his uniform with grass hula skirts in the field. King, who spent over 20-years with the Clowns, paved the way for great white baseball comedians like Max Patkin.
By 1966 the Indianapolis Clowns were the last Negro league team still playing. The Clowns continued to play exhibition games into the 1980s, but as a humorous sideshow rather than a competitive sport. After many years on the road as a barnstorming team, the Clowns finally disbanded in 1989. The Clowns were also the first team to feature women as umpires. The 1976 movie “The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings”, starring James Earl Jones, Billy Dee Williams, and Richard Pryor, is based on the Indianapolis Clowns.
Barb guided us through every step of cannon restoration, carefully explaining what it took to keep her guns in perfect order. This was heady air we were breathing. Terms like breeches, swells, trunnions, rimbases, chambers, astragals, base rings, vents, bores, girdles, chambers, cascabels, knobs, wadding, windage and calibre seeped into our heads like sand through an hourglass. Barb Adams knows every inch of these guns.
Although the first documented appearance of a bicycle in Indianapolis can be traced to a demonstration of the high-wheeled bike called the “Ordinary” in 1869, these old fashioned contraptions (known back then as “Velocipedes”) would be almost unrecognizable to the riders of today. With their huge front tires and seats that seemed to require a ladder to climb up to, these early bikes were awkward and unwieldy for use by all but the most hardy of daredevil souls (They didn’t call them “boneshakers” for nothing back then). It would take nearly 25 years after the close of the American Civil War before the bike began to resemble the form most familiar to riders of today. The development of the safety bike with it’s 2 equal-sized wheels in the 1880s made the new sport more acceptable as a hobby and pastime.
In 1887 bicycle mechanic and expert rider Henry T. Hearsey (1863-1939) opened the first bicycle showroom in Indianapolis. His store was located at the intersection of Delaware and New York Streets on the city’s near eastside. Hearsey introduced the first safety bike to Indianapolis, the English-made Rudge, which sold for the princely sum of $150 (roughly $4,000 in today’s money). Keep in mind that was about twice the price of a horse and buggy at the time. He would later open a larger shop at 116-118 North Pennsylvania Street. He is credited for introducing the 1st safety bicycle in the Capitol city in 1889. Hoosiers took to it immediately and within a few short years, the streets of Indy were so clogged with bicyclists that the City Council passed a bicycle licensing ordinance requiring a $ 1 license fee for every bicycle in the city.
the nickname “Major”, which stuck with him the rest of his life. He has been widely acknowledged as the first American International superstar of bicycle racing. He was the first African American to achieve the level of world champion and the second black athlete to win a world championship in any sport. Carl Fisher was one of the founders of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, developer of the city of Miami and the creator of the famous “Lincoln Highway” and the “Dixie Highway.”
Cycling was so popular in Indianapolis that the city constructed a racing track known as the “Newby Oval” located near 30th Street and Central Avenue in 1898. The track was designed by Shortridge graduate Herbert Foltz who also designed the Broadway Methodist Church, Irvington United Methodist Church and the Meridian Heights Presbyterian Church. Foltz would also design the new Shortridge High School at 34th and Meridian. The state of the art cycling facility could, and often did, seat 20,000 and hosted several national championships sponsored by the chief sanctioning body, “The League of American Wheelmen.” The American Wheelmen often got involved in local and national politics. Hoosier wheelmen raced into the William McKinley presidential campaign in 1896 and helped him win the election. With this new found political clout, riding clubs began to put pressure on politicians to improve urban streets and rural roads, exclaiming “We are a factor in politics, and demand that the great cause of Good Roads be given consideration.”
The ALPLM’s “problems” began back in 2007 when it purchased the famous Taper collection for $23 million. “The collection is amazing,” says Sam, “the Lincoln top hat and bloodied gloves seem to be the items that resonate most with people, but the collection is much more than that.” Dr. Wheeler says that the uniqueness of the Taper collection centers around its emphasis on assassination related items, a field that had been largely ignored by Lincoln collectors at that time of its assemblage. The collection was created by Louise Taper, daughter-in-law of Southern California real estate magnate S. Mark Taper. She created the exhibition The Last Best Hope of Earth: Abraham Lincoln and the Promise of America which was at the Huntington Library from 1993–1994 and at the Chicago Historical Society from 1996-1997.
“Bottom line,” Sam says, “we need to keep the collection here. That is our first priority.” It is easy to see how important this collection is to Dr. Wheeler by simply watching his eyes as he speaks. To Wheeler, the collection is not just a part of the museum, it is a part of the state of Illinois. Sam relates how when he speaks to groups, which he does quite regularly on behalf of the ALPLM, he often reaches into the vault to bring along pieces from the Taper collection to fit the topic. “People love seeing these items. It gives them a direct connection to Lincoln.” states Wheeler.
Hoosiers may ask, why doesn’t the ALPLM just ask the state of Illinois for the money? After all, with 300,000 visitors annually, the Lincoln Library Museum is one of the most popular tourist sites in the state of Illinois and is prominently featured in all of their state tourism ads. Well, the state is billions of dollars in debt despite approving a major income-tax increase last summer and as of the time of this writing, has yet to put together a budget. To the casual observer, one would think that financial stalemate between the state and the museum would be a no-brainer when you consider that the ALPLM has drawn more than 4 million visitors since opening in 2005. The truth is a little more complicated than that. Illinois State government runs and funds the Lincoln library and museum. The separately run foundation raises private funds to support the presidential complex. The foundation, which is not funded by the state, operates a gift store and restaurant but has little role in the complex’s operations, programs and oversight.
