The Oilman Who Said the CIA Told Him to Befriend Oswald Died as Congress Came Knocking

On a morning in March 1977, George de Mohrenschildt sat down for breakfast at the Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach with journalist Edward Epstein. De Mohrenschildt was a Russian-born aristocrat turned Texas oilman who shared tables with powerful lawmakers and wealthy energy men, and he had a story he had never told so plainly.

His CIA contact, J. Walton Moore, an officer in the agency's Domestic Contacts Division who debriefed him after foreign trips, had put him on Lee Harvey Oswald. "I would never have contacted Oswald in a million years if Moore had not sanctioned it," de Mohrenschildt said. "Too much was at stake."

That admission is what makes what happened hours later so hard to dismiss. De Mohrenschildt had guided Oswald's daily existence for about six months in 1962 and 1963, and he died of a shotgun wound on the same day a congressional investigator came to take his statement.

The assignment had started in 1962. Moore brought de Mohrenschildt the name of an ex-Marine just back from living in the Soviet Union in Minsk, Oswald's home for years. Of all the men in Dallas, de Mohrenschildt was one of the few who could sit across from Oswald and reminisce about streets, rivers and circuses in their shared hometown. Moore said his business and reputation would be safe, and a lucrative oil contract in Haiti could come his way if he helped.

So de Mohrenschildt drove to Fort Worth and took charge of Oswald's day-to-day affairs. He ferried him to employment appointments, helped the family find housing, and stepped in when Oswald turned violent with his wife, Marina. The friendship made little sense on paper, since Oswald earned modest wages in manual work and spent lunch breaks reading communist literature, but de Mohrenschildt said he felt sorry for the bright, bitter young man who was in over his head.

On February 22, 1963, de Mohrenschildt escorted Lee and Marina to an intimate gathering in Dallas. There Marina, a Russian spouse who knew little English, met Ruth Paine, a mother living apart from her husband who was learning Russian. They swapped contact information. Months later de Mohrenschildt departed for Haiti and never encountered Oswald again.

Thirteen years later, he was unraveling. On September 5, 1976, he sent an anguished appeal to the chief of the CIA asking for intervention, saying vigilantes surrounded his family, his phone was tapped, and he and his wife were followed everywhere and driven to insanity. The director was George H.W. Bush, who had known de Mohrenschildt since the 1940s and whose nickname, Poppy, appeared in de Mohrenschildt's address book. Bush replied that his staff found no sign of federal interest and guessed de Mohrenschildt had simply become newsworthy again. Two months later de Mohrenschildt attempted suicide on four occasions, was committed, given electroshock therapy, and released at the end of 1976.

After the breakfast interview, Epstein retired to his hotel room for a lunch break. They planned to resume at 3 p.m. That morning, House investigator Gaeton Fonzi traveled to de Mohrenschildt's house and left his card with de Mohrenschildt's daughter. De Mohrenschildt returned at 2 p.m., noticed the card, and headed upstairs. His daughter discovered his body nearly 40 minutes afterward.

Six people were in the house, and all said they noticed no blast. But a housekeeper had left a tape recorder running to capture her daytime drama. The tape caught one loud report at 2:21, followed by a thud as the weapon struck the floor.