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An assassination attempt against Ronald Reagan injured four, including the president and his press secretary, James Brady.
Killing Reagan
66 AARP THE MAGAZINE / Real Possibilities
COLLAGE BY TRAVIS RATHBONE
PHOTO CREDITS ON PAGE 90
An exclusive excerpt from the new best-seller by Bill O’Reilly and Martin Dugard
Park Central Hotel, Washington, D.C. March 30, 1981, 9 a.m.
OHN HINCKLEY is hungry. He turns off the Today show in his AAA-approved budget hotel room and steps out onto the corner of 18th and G streets. The sky is overcast. A light rain settles on Hinckley’s well-worn beige jacket as he strolls three blocks to the K Street McDonald’s. He did not sleep well last night, troubled by how to play out his Jodie Foster obsession once and for all. Money is also on his mind. Once again, Hinckley is almost broke. After spending $47 on his room last night, and then spending a dollar for breakfast, he has less than $130 to his name. This is barely enough for a ticket back home to Denver, but John Hinckley does not care. He will never return to that home again. Two blocks away in the White House, President Ronald Reagan is just concluding a ceremonial 14-minute meeting in the Cabinet Room with a group of Hispanic leaders. It has been a long morning, beginning with a breakfast for his political appointees in the Blue Room at 8:34, then a 15-minute session with his top advisers. Four more meetings round out the morning, each with a cast of dignitaries and administration officials. Among them is a relatively new face: James Brady, Reagan’s recently hired press secretary. As the president eats lunch, John Hinckley is taking a shower. He is deep in thought as the water beats down on him. An item on page A-4 in the Washington Star has caught his eye. Under the heading “President’s Schedule,” the piece mentions that Ronald Reagan will be giving a speech at the Washington Hilton this afternoon. Hinckley rinses off the soap and turns off the water. His mind is made up. He is going to the Hilton. He towels off and gets dressed in a pair of simple trousers, a shirt and ankle-high boots. His wallet contains $129 in cash along with two library cards, a Texas driver’s license, a chess club membership and folded magazine photos of Jodie Foster. There is no guarantee he will fire his gun this afternoon, but if he does get close enough to squeeze off a round, John Hinckley wants Jodie Foster to know he is doing it for her. He sits down at a small wooden desk and composes a letter to his beloved: “Dear Jodie,” he writes. “There is a definite possibility I will be killed in my attempt to get Reagan. This is why I am writing you this letter now.” John Hinckley stands and removes the Saturday Night Special from his suitcase, along with boxes of ammunition. Several types of bullets soon litter his bedspread. Hinckley has the choice of normal, round-nosed bullets or six rounds of an especially brutal bullet designed to blow a hole in the target by exploding on impact, spewing hot shrapnel. Appropriately, these bullets are known as Devastators. He chooses them. Armed and dangerous, Hinckley then takes a cab for the OCTOBER / NOVEMBER 2015 67