“Yeah, I did,” said Seigenthaler, waking to pain. “What happened?” “Well, we had a riot.” “Don’t you think you better call Mr. Kennedy?” “Which Mr. Kennedy?” “The Attorney General of the United States.” The lieutenant frowned. “Who the hell are you?” he asked. “I’m his administrative assistant,” groaned Seigenthaler, in a manner that convinced the lieutenant he was talking with a bona-fide big shot. He ran for help, carrying news that reporters picked up instantly. Seigenthaler passed out again. He awoke in the X-ray room of a hospital, lying beside a doctor who was talking on the telephone
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