Unraveling the JFK Files

Not the Usual Fare in News

Sixty-two years ago, on November 22, 1963, President John F. Kennedy was killed by an assassin’s bullet in Dallas, becoming one of the most pivotal and controversial moments in U.S. history. Kennedy’s relationship with the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) had already been strained, particularly after the disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961.

Furious with the agency, its director Alan Dulles, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the State Department, and even himself, Kennedy replaced Dulles with John McCone, a respected Republican and Cold War hardliner. However, Kennedy later grew frustrated with McCone, finding him disloyal.

A 1961 memo from advisor Arthur Schlesinger, addressed to Kennedy, urged a reorganization of the CIA, cautioning that another high-profile failure could severely undermine public confidence in U.S. policy due to the significant autonomy the agency had enjoyed. The popular notion—that Kennedy wanted to “splinter the CIA into a thousand pieces” and dismantle it entirely—remains debated, as he refrained from restructuring it despite such advice. Over time, Kennedy came to value certain CIA products, like the President’s Daily Brief (then known as the President’s Intelligence Checklist), some of which from the days surrounding the assassination have now been declassified.

On the day of the assassination, Kennedy’s motorcade wound through Dallas when three shots rang out from the Texas School Book Depository. The Warren Commission, tasked with investigating Kennedy’s death, claimed that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone–the first shot missed by 65 yards, the second—the “magic bullet”—pierced Kennedy’s back, angling up and exited his throat, then making a right angle turn that struck Governor John Connally, and the third landed a fatal headshot from 100 yards.

President Lyndon B. Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, denied CIA involvement. However, the commission was kept in the dark about the CIA’s knowledge—receiving, in the words of one member, “almost nothing” of substance from the agency.

Oswald, widely regarded as the lone gunman, is a central figure in the story. Documents later released provide a detailed account of his activities in the months leading up to the assassination.

These files chronicle a trip to Mexico, his subsequent return to the United States, and evaluations of his affiliations with foreign entities. One striking document includes an assessment from a KGB official who asserted that Oswald was never an agent under Soviet control.

The official remarked on Oswald’s poor marksmanship, based on observations of his target practice during his time in the USSR, where the KGB kept a close watch on him. The records suggest that the Soviets concluded his erratic personality made him difficult, if not impossible, to direct or manage.

Oswald, the lone gunman firing from the Texas School Book Depository—crumbles under a truth too deliberate to ignore–there are no coincidences. Recently released documents, paired with historical records, expose a chilling pattern–the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) didn’t just watch Oswald—it armed him with a rifle and full metal jacket (FMJ) bullets unavailable to the public, through a fronted gun store, as part of a design stretching back to America’s earliest aid agencies. The Warren Commission missed or buried it, but the dots connect themselves.

Oswald’s weapon—a 6.5mm Mannlicher-Carcano rifle, serial number C2766—entered his hands via a mail-order purchase from Klein’s Sporting Goods in Chicago, placed March 27, 1963, under the alias “A. Hidell.” The Warren Commission (Exhibit CE 773) tracked it from Klein’s to Oswald’s Dallas P.O. Box 2915, sourced from Crescent Firearms, Inc., a New York surplus dealer.

A clean transaction, they said—until you peel the layers. Klein’s wasn’t just a retailer. Crescent was part of the shadowy arms trade, a world the CIA swam in during the Cold War.

Think Interarmco, a known agency-linked dealer arming Bay of Pigs exiles in 1961—the same year Kennedy clashed with the CIA over that fiasco. Klein was a cutout, a front for funneling weapons to operatives or patsies.

Oswald’s rifle arriving via Klein’s wasn’t chance. The CIA had decades of using fronts to mask operations. The Mutual Security Agency (MSA), operating from 1951–1953, blended economic and military aid—$7.5 billion in 1952 alone—into anti-Soviet ops, per National Archives Record Group 469.

A 1953–1954 World Bank folder shows MSA correspondence with murky “special projects,” echoing CIA coups like Guatemala’s in 1954. When the MSA folded, the International Cooperation Administration (ICA) took over in 1955, doling out aid to Laos and Jordan—places a 1957 New York Times report ties to CIA stability efforts.

Kennedy axed the ICA in 1961, replacing it with USAID, but the pattern held–the Church Committee (1975) caught CIA officers in USAID running Vietnam “pacification” funds to militias.

But it’s the bullets that tell the real story. Oswald fired FMJ 6.5x52mm Carcano rounds—lead core, copper-jacketed—confirmed by ballistics in CE 399, the “magic bullet.”

FMJ penetrates clean, unlike soft lead rounds that deform. The Warren Report claims surplus Carcano ammo—two million rounds—flooded the U.S. market post-WWII, sold by Klein’s and others.

But here’s the catch–that flood was soft lead, not FMJ.

Surplus ads in American Rifleman (1962–1963) list Carcano ammo at 7–10 cents a round—cheap, mixed lots, often unjacketed or soft-point, per dealers like Samco. FMJ existed—Western Cartridge made millions for the Greek military—but none for civilian use.

Oswald’s FMJ rounds–recovered from Kennedy’s limo and Connally’s stretcher, were pristine military-grade, not the surplus slush. If soft lead dominated the market, where’d he get FMJ?

Not Dallas shops—FBI checks found no Carcano FMJ sales to him. Klein’s order doesn’t itemize ammo type, yet he had it by November 22.

Enter the CIA. The Church Committee exposed agency ammo caches for covert ops—Operation Mongoose against Castro used restricted lots.

A 1963 FBI memo (HSCA files) notes Carcano ammo in Greece, a CIA hub; they bought an FMJ batch there, keeping it off public shelves. The Kennedy files mention of a Mexican president informant (1970s) shows CIA reach in ammo-rich regions—USAID was there too, laundering funds per a 1971 Washington Post scoop.

Oswald’s FMJ had to come from the CIA or Klein’s as their front because the public couldn’t touch it. No coincidence–the agency that watched him in Mexico City armed him, too.

It wasn’t random—it was deliberate. The CIA’s playbook, honed through MSA, ICA, and USAID, used fronts to hide intent. MSA’s “special projects” blurred aid and ops.

The ICA’s Jordan aid masked CIA moves. USAID’s Vietnam and Laos fronts perfected it. Klein’s, supplying Oswald’s rifle and FMJ ammo, is the follow-up link—a gun store echoing decades of agency craft.

Kennedy’s friction with the CIA seals it. Post-Bay of Pigs (1961), he ousted Director Allen Dulles, swapped ICA for USAID, and eyed agency reform—a 1961 memo (Kennedy files) warned of CIA autonomy. His push threatened their shadow empire—aid fronts, arms deals, all of it.

Oswald, a known quantity–the KGB watched him, deeming him erratic–gets a CIA-sourced rifle and FMJ bullets via Klein’s. He fires—or takes the fall—while the agency’s tracks vanish in pre-1992 document purges.

The Warren Commission, fed “almost nothing” by the CIA, buys the lone-gunman tale, ignoring Klein’s ties and ammo oddity. The 1979 HSCA saw conspiracy but missed this—too late, too scrubbed.

But bullets don’t lie: soft lead flooded markets, FMJ stayed with the CIA. Oswald’s stash points to Klein’s, and Klein’s points to Langley.

The Kennedy files hint, but don’t confess. Yet the pattern holds–MSA to ICA to USAID to Klein’s–a thread of control Kennedy tried to cut.

One question lingers–who pulled the trigger? The Warren Commission crowned Oswald the lone gunman, firing three shots from the Texas School Book Depository.

Yet, beneath this tidy tale lies a truth too orchestrated for chance—there are no coincidences. The documents and historical records reveal a Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) design so intricate that the triggerman—or triggermen—remains a shadow, lost to destroyed files and official silence. The evidence points to a conspiracy, but the shooter’s identity stays maddeningly out of reach.

The official narrative begins with Oswald’s 6.5mm Mannlicher-Carcano rifle, serial number #C2766, ordered from Klein’s Sporting Goods in Chicago under the alias “A. Hidell.” The Warren Report traces it–shipped via Crescent Firearms to Oswald’s Dallas P.O. Box 2915, found on the Depository’s sixth-floor post-assassination.

Three shots—missed, the “magic bullet” through Kennedy and Connally, and a fatal headshot—seal him as the killer. But the rifle’s origin cracks the story open.

Tied to Crescent’s Firearms, Klein’s was a CIA front like Interarmco, which armed Bay of Pigs exiles in 1961—the year Kennedy clashed with the agency.

Oswald’s ammo—full metal jacket (FMJ) 6.5x52mm rounds—deepens the plot. The Warren Report claims surplus Carcano ammo flooded markets, yet that flood was soft lead, not FMJ.

Military-grade FMJ, per ballistics, stayed scarce—hoarded by the CIA for ops like Mongoose, per the 1975 Church Committee. If Klein’s supplied Oswald’s FMJ, he’s no lone buyer—he’s a piece in a CIA game.

The Warren Commission’s lone-gunman script falters under scrutiny. The 1979 House Select Committee on Assassinations (HSCA) found a “high probability” of a fourth shot—from the grassy knoll—based on acoustic evidence.

Witnesses saw smoke, Zapruder’s film hints at a frontal hit, and Kennedy’s head snaps back, defying a solo Depository shooter. Oswald’s poor marksmanship, noted by a KGB official in the Kennedy files, and the rifle’s bolt-action pace—three shots in 6–8 seconds—stretch belief.

If a second gunman fired, who was he?

The files offer no name. CIA counterintelligence chief James Angleton looms large, shaping the agency’s response, but he’s no triggerman.

The agency’s Mexican president informant shows their reach, yet no shooter emerges. The Warren Commission got “almost nothing” from the CIA, and pre-1992 record purges—thousands destroyed before the JFK Records Act—hide the trail.

Oswald screams patsy, tracked in Mexico City, armed via Klein’s, and is left to take the fall. A second shooter, grassy knoll or elsewhere, fits a design—but the face stays blank.

This triggerman void isn’t random—it’s deliberate, echoing the CIA’s front playbook. The Mutual Security Agency (MSA), 1951–1953, blended $7.5 billion in aid with “special projects,” per National Archives Record Group 469.

A 1953–1954 World Bank folder hints at covert ties, like the CIA’s 1954 Guatemala coup. The International Cooperation Administration (ICA), 1955–1961, funneled aid to Jordan—tied to CIA stability ops in a 1957 New York Times report—until Kennedy swapped it for USAID in 1961.

USAID, meant to be clean, became a CIA tool: the Church Committee caught operatives funding Vietnam militias, and a 1971 Washington Post scoop revealed Laos arms deals.

Kennedy’s push to curb CIA power—post-Bay of Pigs, ICA’s end, a 1961 reform memo—threatened this machine. His death, with no clear triggerman, protected it.

Coincidence? Not a chance.

So where’s the shooter? Oswald’s role wavers—shooter, patsy, or both.

His CIA-sourced FMJ–not surplus soft lead–and agency surveillance in Mexico suggest orchestration. The grassy knoll’s fourth shot points to a team—CIA operative, Cuban exile, Mafia hitman?—but no file names them.

Angleton’s crew, anti-Castro factions, or a hired gun could’ve fired, vanishing post-hit as records burned. The Warren Commission, rushed by LBJ and starved by CIA silence, pinned it on Oswald, ignoring Klein’s ties and ammo oddity.

No lot numbers tie Oswald’s FMJ to a CIA cache, and memos don’t name the killer. The design’s genius lies in its gaps–Oswald framed, the factual shooter—or shooters—erased, the CIA untouchable.

Another figure emerging in the aftermath was Gary Underhill, a former intelligence operative with ties to the CIA. Underhill became convinced that the CIA was behind Kennedy’s assassination. He abruptly left Washington, shared his suspicions with close confidants, and then died just months later in 1964 from a gunshot wound officially deemed self-inflicted.

The CIA’s operations during the Kennedy era extended far beyond the assassination. The agency sometimes disguised its operatives as State Department employees for secret missions abroad.

One document identifies Manuel Machado Losas, a treasurer of the Mexican revolutionary movement and a known associate of Cuban leader Fidel Castro, as a CIA asset. The files also reveal that the agency’s primary informant in Mexico from the mid-to-late 1970s was the Mexican president—a remarkably high-placed source.

These operations highlight the CIA’s extraordinary power and minimal oversight during the early 1960s, operating almost as a government unto itself. Key figures like James Angleton, a name well-known to assassination scholars, played a significant role in shaping the agency’s response to the event.

Nearly three decades later, in 1992, under President George H.W. Bush, the JFK Assassination Records Act was created in response to public demand spurred by Oliver Stone’s film JFK. The act defined assassination-related records expansively, encompassing not only the event itself but also U.S. covert actions abroad that might involve assassination plots. Evidence suggests the intentional destruction of some documents in the intervening years between the assassination and the passage of this legislation.

Fast-forward to a massive release of information under a directive from President Donald Trump, carried out by the National Archives and totaling 63,000 pages collected from various government agencies. This release, which includes files on operations in Vietnam, Indonesia, and various African nations, builds on the 1992 act.

While some documents contained redactions that obscured key details, most previously withheld content has been unredacted. Among the operational details uncovered are the identities of foreign nationals, Americans, businesses, and even newspapers that collaborated with the CIA.

However, certain government entities, particularly the CIA, have historically resisted efforts to disclose sensitive portions of these records.

Last week, the Trump administration released a trove of documents that some claim dismantled the narrative of Oswald as a lone gunman, exposing the CIA as the orchestrator of Kennedy’s death. These files weave a thread of intelligence overreach, political vendettas, and calculated deception, with some drawing parallels to the July 13, 2024, attempt on former President Donald Trump’s life in Butler, Pennsylvania.

In that incident, Trump was grazed in the ear by a bullet from Thomas Matthew Crooks during a rally, an attempt now tied to the CIA through encrypted accounts and a building housing an FBI office. Whether these twin assaults on American leaders, separated by decades, are definitively connected remains a matter of intense debate–but the dots are there.

Despite the scale of this release, the process of unveiling the truth about the Kennedy assassination remains fraught with challenges. The documents paint a picture of a CIA with vast influence, operating in a world of covert actions and paramilitary warfare—an unchecked force that Kennedy once sought to rein in.

Finally, there is a thread linking America’s foreign aid agencies to the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), a deliberate design and one that spans decades and implicates the deaths of a president.

The documents, combined with archived records, reveal a chilling pattern–the CIA has systematically exploited the Mutual Security Agency (MSA), the International Cooperation Administration (ICA), and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) as fronts for laundering money and advancing covert agendas, from the Cold War’s dawn to today.

The story begins with the Mutual Security Agency (MSA), established in 1951 under President Harry S. Truman, to funnel economic and military aid to anti-Soviet allies. Held in the National Archives Record Group 469, the MSA’s files—some digitized, like a 1953–1954 correspondence folder from the World Bank—detail billions disbursed to nations like Korea and Greece. But beneath the surface, whispers persist.

The CIA, under Allen Dulles’ rising influence, had a knack for turning aid into weapons. In Guatemala, just as the MSA wound down in 1953, the agency orchestrated a coup using economic aid as cover—a playbook hinting at MSA funds greasing covert wheels. Papers from W. Averell Harriman, MSA Director and a Truman confidant, housed at the Truman Library, mention “special projects” with State and intelligence officials.

Coincidence? Hardly. The MSA’s abolition in 1953—replaced by the Foreign Operations Administration—came as Dulles took the CIA’s helm, suggesting a shift to tighter control over aid’s darker uses.

Enter the International Cooperation Administration (ICA), launched in 1955 under Eisenhower. Tasked with economic and technical assistance, the ICA picked up where the MSA left off, channeling aid to Cold War hotspots like Laos and Iran.

The 63,000 pages don’t name the ICA explicitly but paint a CIA unbound—disguising operatives as State Department staff and recruiting assets like Manuel Machado Losas, a Castro ally. A 1957 New York Times report ties ICA aid to Jordan with CIA-backed stability efforts—another dot in the pattern.

President John F. Kennedy, burned by the CIA’s Bay of Pigs fiasco in 1961, grew wary of such entanglements. That year, he axed the ICA, replacing it with USAID via the Foreign Assistance Act.

Was he cutting off a CIA lifeline? The timing—and his assassination two years later—suggests no accident.

Starting November 3, 1961, the USAID era was to be a fresh beginning—development over espionage. Yet the CIA adapted seamlessly.

The Church Committee’s 1975 report (Volume 1, page 147) exposes CIA officers posing as USAID staff in Vietnam, funneling “Rural Development” funds to militias and propaganda. A 1971 Washington Post scoop revealed USAID aid in Laos arming CIA-backed Hmong fighters.

The Kennedy files add a twist: by the mid-1970s, the Mexican president was a CIA informant, coinciding with USAID’s Latin American footprint. A 2014 Associated Press story even caught USAID running a Cuban social media scheme—ZunZuneo—as CIA cover. Kennedy’s dream of a clean agency died with him; USAID became the CIA’s new laundering hub.

It isn’t random chance—it’s a continuum. The MSA laid the groundwork, blending military and economic aid into CIA ops.

The ICA refined it, blurring lines Kennedy tried to erase. USAID perfected it, outlasting its founder’s vision.

The Kennedy files hint at destroyed records pre-1992, shielding the complete truth, but the pattern screams intent, aid as a Trojan horse for intelligence overreach.

Did Kennedy’s push to dismantle this machine—starting with the ICA—seal his fate in Dallas? Sixty-two years later, the dots connect themselves.