38
PARTISAN REVIEW
Another congressman, Mr. Doyle, said, "Would consul read the per–
tinent passage from the executive transcript? We are being broadcast by
the medium of television. I think all Americans should hear it."
Tavenner had been prepared. His thumb,
1
saw, was at the proper
page. He did not need glasses.
"I
have it here, Congressman. Mister
Jacobi states,
'1
have come to believe the country is being undermined
by a small but determined group of fanatics who have no respect for our
liberties or our way of life. They have no respect for our laws. They
mock our free institutions. They have done great damage and threaten
to do more. They are more powerful now than they have ever been
before.'"
Mr. Doyle said, "That's the part. About being more powerful than
ever before. It's the very point we've been trying to establish."
Mr. Jackson: "And did the witness declare that he was willing to give
us the names of those he rightly calls fanatics?"
"Don't you think we should change the channel?"
I
asked in a voice
plainly cracking. "Arthur, we won't know who won. I'll bet on Wild
Red Berry. What about you, Bartie? Want to bet a quarter on Gorgeous
George?"
But the chauffeur sat unmoving. My brother rocked from foot to
foot, a bulge of concentration forming on his brow. Even Mary stood
with her fists on her hips, as if to express her indignation. Meanwhile
Mr. Tavenner was confirming for the committee that our father had
indeed promised to disclose a list of names.
It
was the turn of Mr. Wood: "Very well, sir. Are you prepared now
to give us these people by name?"
"I
am."
There was, in that paneled room, as in our own stucco den, a perfect
silence. Norman, from an inside breast pocket, took out a piece of paper
folded in squares. As he spread it open, Stanley, his pale, plump attor–
ney, shaded his eyes. "Clyde Doyle," my father began. Then, a little
louder: "Donald Jackson. John S. Wood. Francis E. Walter. Frank
Tavenner-"
The room was already in an uproar. Mr. Walter, red faced, was
smashing the gavel down all over the surface of the desk in front of him.
Flashbulbs were going off like lightning. The audience was laughing
even more loudly than before. Mr. Wood was on his feet now. "Why,
he's giving the names of this committee!"
Norman said, "Oh, 1 can do better than that. Martin Dies.
J.
Parnell
Thomas. John Rankin. Jack Tenny. Joseph McCarthy. Richard Nixon-"
