THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 29, 1995 TAG: 9501270719
SECTION: SUFFOLK SUN PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Frank Roberts
LENGTH: Medium: 68 lines
Rose Kennedy's death last week, at age 104, reminded me of a story I'd written in 1986.
It involved Peter N. Geilich, president of Roanoke-Chowan Hospital in Ahoskie. He had been an administrator at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
After that event on Nov. 22, 1963, Parkland became the center of world attention, and Geilich served as hospital spokesman. Detailing the deaths of Kennedy and his assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald - who was gunned down two days later by Jack Ruby - was a massive task.
Geilich and a nursing supervisor had just sat down to lunch at Woodlawn Hospital, where Geilich had been administrator, when the switchboard operator yelled that the president had been shot.
The president was taken to Parkland. After returning there, Geilich encountered Mrs. Kennedy, her clothing splattered with blood. She bore a shocked expression.
As Dr. Kemp Clark, chief of neurosurgery noted, the president's injuries were ``incompatible with life.''
Moments later, Texas Gov. John Connally, injured in the shooting, was wheeled in.
Meanwhile, the press corps piled in - in a manner being repeated at the O.J. Simpson murder trial. Geilich later wrote about the autopsy on Kennedy by a team of military pathologists in Bethesda, Md.
``They did an inexcusably incomplete and inaccurate job. . . '' he wrote. By contrast, he said the post-mortem examination by Dallas coroner Earl Rose was an example of ``professional competence in forensic medicine.''
The hectic pace at Parkland increased two days later, with the arrival of Lee Harvey Oswald.
Geilich's recollection of his treatment when he tried to see Oswald:
``It occurs to me how ridiculous it was for the police department to worry about Oswald's escape at this point, after having allowed the circumstance to take place where he was shot in their custody, in full view of hundreds of people gathered there and millions on television.''
The next newsmaking patient was Jack Ruby, the Oswald assassin.
As for the press, ``I thought at the time that they were attacking the story like so many maggots attack dead flesh, like maggots which seemed to appear out of nowhere.''
Geilich would later refer to the majority of the press corps as ``media maggots.''
His least favorite writers: Jim Bishop and William Manchester, both of whom wrote best-sellers about the event.
There was a Mr. Nice Guy - NBC's Martin Agronsky, about whom Geilich said, ``a pro whose conduct was exemplary.'' And that brings this story to a ``small world'' conclusion.
When Agronsky told Geilich to let him know if he could ever do anything for him, Geilich thought he was just being polite.
Twelve years later, Geilich's daughter, Michelle, was a patient in a Boston hospital.
``A nurse came in and asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee. I saw her name tag - Agronsky. She told me that Martin was her dad. Somehow, then, he did pay me back.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff file photo
Peter N. Geilich, president of Roanoke-Chowan Hospital, was formerly
an administrator of Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas.
by CNB