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Presumed Guilty
If Howard Roffman is right, and his careful documentation argues that he is, Lee Harvey Oswald could not have been the assassin of President John F. Kennedy. He could not have been the gunman in the sixth-floor window of the Texas School Book Depository building, as shown by his close analysis of both the circumstantial evidence and the ballistics of the case. The implications are serious indeed, and the Introduction deals with them extensively, besides assessing the contributions of other critics. The documentation here presented, extracted from the once-secret working papers of the Warren Commission, demonstrates conclusively that the Commission prejudges Oswald guilty and made use of only circumstantial evidence to bolster its assumption, while suppressing information that tended to undermine it. Roffman in this book states the charge "When the Commissioners decided in advance that the wrong man was the lone assassin, whatever their intentions, they protected the real assassins. Through their staff, they misinformed the American public and falsified history."
Hardcover
First published January 1, 1975
About the author
Howard Roffman
29 books10 followersI am a 55-year-old white, Jewish man who grew up in a decidedly white middle-class section of Philadelphia, who now lives in San Francisco with his partner of 34 years and whose career has nothing to do with photography. So how do I find myself publishing book after book of photographs of deliriously beautiful young men? I often find myself asking that very same question.
My interest in photography dates back to when I was a child. Don't be shocked, but so does my interest in beautiful young men. Somehow, the two interests have always been connected. For as long as I can remember, whenever I saw a gorgeous boy, I dreamed of being able to capture his beauty in photographs. For so long, it was a dream that seemed far beyond my reach, a fantasy, a frustration.
It wasn't until 1991 that my fantasy became a reality. It happened when I met John and Gary, an attractive young couple in San Francisco who wanted to be photographed. You can read the gory details in my book THREE, but suffice it to say that my first session with them was a turning point in my life -- the point, in fact, when I turned from being a frustrated voyeur into being a photographer. Suddenly I realized that if I asked people to pose for me, I could bring all those pictures locked in my head into reality.
There was no stopping me. I gave my card to people at restaurants, street fairs, shopping malls, on the street -- anywhere I saw someone who interested me. I began to build a body of work and to develop my skills. I also began to understand what my photography was really about. The popular aesthetic when I started was all about bodies and sculpture. "Male nude photography" was the term of art most often used to describe my work. It never sat well with me. I wasn't photographing bodies; I was photographing people. I wanted my pictures to feel like a window into their soul. I wanted viewers to feel connected with my models. My work is portraiture. It isn't about nudes or bodies or body parts.
As of today, I have published fourteen books of photographs, with more to come, and am represented by a terrific gallery in New York. Along the way there have been cards and calendars and magazine articles. It is still rather amazing to me that any of this has happened at all, but, clearly, none of this could have happened without the intervention of some wonderful people who cared about what I was doing and offered their help. People like John Wascisin, my first real model, who tirelessly championed my work, Doug Mitchell, the owner of Soho Gallery, who published my first cards and calendars, Kerry O'Quinn, one of my dearest friends, who encouraged me, opened his home to me and searched for models, Michael Taubenheim, a brilliant photo editor, who has helped shape and develop my books, Bruno Gmünder, a savvy publisher, who has created a meaningful channel for artists like me to publish their often forbidden works, John Wessel and Billy O'Connor, owners of the Wessel + O'Connor Gallery in New York, who have given credibility and stature to this art form and warmly welcomed my work, and Jeremy Ferguson, a model and friend, who dragged me kicking and screaming into the 21st century with this web site. And then there is my partner Duane Waters, who has put up with me for 34 years, the last twelve of which were spent patiently waiting for me to finish lengthy photo shoots and late night sessions poring over proof sheets, with barely a moment of jealousy or doubt.
My interest in photography dates back to when I was a child. Don't be shocked, but so does my interest in beautiful young men. Somehow, the two interests have always been connected. For as long as I can remember, whenever I saw a gorgeous boy, I dreamed of being able to capture his beauty in photographs. For so long, it was a dream that seemed far beyond my reach, a fantasy, a frustration.
It wasn't until 1991 that my fantasy became a reality. It happened when I met John and Gary, an attractive young couple in San Francisco who wanted to be photographed. You can read the gory details in my book THREE, but suffice it to say that my first session with them was a turning point in my life -- the point, in fact, when I turned from being a frustrated voyeur into being a photographer. Suddenly I realized that if I asked people to pose for me, I could bring all those pictures locked in my head into reality.
There was no stopping me. I gave my card to people at restaurants, street fairs, shopping malls, on the street -- anywhere I saw someone who interested me. I began to build a body of work and to develop my skills. I also began to understand what my photography was really about. The popular aesthetic when I started was all about bodies and sculpture. "Male nude photography" was the term of art most often used to describe my work. It never sat well with me. I wasn't photographing bodies; I was photographing people. I wanted my pictures to feel like a window into their soul. I wanted viewers to feel connected with my models. My work is portraiture. It isn't about nudes or bodies or body parts.
As of today, I have published fourteen books of photographs, with more to come, and am represented by a terrific gallery in New York. Along the way there have been cards and calendars and magazine articles. It is still rather amazing to me that any of this has happened at all, but, clearly, none of this could have happened without the intervention of some wonderful people who cared about what I was doing and offered their help. People like John Wascisin, my first real model, who tirelessly championed my work, Doug Mitchell, the owner of Soho Gallery, who published my first cards and calendars, Kerry O'Quinn, one of my dearest friends, who encouraged me, opened his home to me and searched for models, Michael Taubenheim, a brilliant photo editor, who has helped shape and develop my books, Bruno Gmünder, a savvy publisher, who has created a meaningful channel for artists like me to publish their often forbidden works, John Wessel and Billy O'Connor, owners of the Wessel + O'Connor Gallery in New York, who have given credibility and stature to this art form and warmly welcomed my work, and Jeremy Ferguson, a model and friend, who dragged me kicking and screaming into the 21st century with this web site. And then there is my partner Duane Waters, who has put up with me for 34 years, the last twelve of which were spent patiently waiting for me to finish lengthy photo shoots and late night sessions poring over proof sheets, with barely a moment of jealousy or doubt.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
July 22, 2020
Essential reading for everyone who is interested in finding out what really happened to JFK in Dallas. Roffman sticks to the facts. He focuses on the Warren Commission's case against Lee Harvey Oswald. Most of the evidence he discusses is from the 26 volumes of WC Hearings & Exhibitions. This research has been done very thoroughly. The narrative is well thought out. Written with a pure, inquisitive heart and a clear mind. To think, when this book was published (January 1976) Roffman was only 23 years old! About the age of Lee Harvey Oswald when Oswald was accused of assassinating the president and murdered in police custody. This book would be an excellent companion to Sylvia Meagher's Accessories after the fact.
December 2, 2023
Interesting book although author occasionally lost me in the details. (That's okay, probably necessary to present the case.) This book presents, in excruciating detail, a jaundiced (and convincing!) look at the Warren Commission Report on the assassination of President Kennedy. Roffman states that the report was written to calm the American public by assuring us that the president's murderer was caught, was acting alone, and that we had nothing further to worry about.
Roffman also points out that Oswald almost certainly was not the person who who committed the crime. Furthermore, it's unlikely that we ever will know the truth about the assassination because none of the necessary police work needed was ever performed. Furthermore, it's unfortunate that this is the case because it leaves us with deep suspicions of cover-ups and distrust of our government. If they can't tell us the truth about this, what else might they be hiding.
The book was first published in 1975.
Roffman also points out that Oswald almost certainly was not the person who who committed the crime. Furthermore, it's unlikely that we ever will know the truth about the assassination because none of the necessary police work needed was ever performed. Furthermore, it's unfortunate that this is the case because it leaves us with deep suspicions of cover-ups and distrust of our government. If they can't tell us the truth about this, what else might they be hiding.
The book was first published in 1975.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews