Mrs. Oswald. But I do know, because I was paid for the picture—one of the pictures in that magazine.
Mr. Rankin. We would appreciate your telling us as accurately as you can.
Mrs. Oswald. I want to give you any and every information I can.
The Chairman. Did the man who interviewed you in this matter also pay for the picture—the same man?
Mrs. Oswald. Yes sir—for the Time Magazine.
Mr. Rankin. Did he pay you for any part of the story?
Mrs. Oswald. No sir. No, I am wrong there, he did. He paid me for part of the story. That is not the story.
This isn't the story that was supposed to have come out. It was a much nicer and softer story. But we have found out that when we give these press notices, that they don't come out the way you give them. And they explain—like if I was to tell Mr. Sullivan, "I am disappointed in your story"—"Well, Mrs. Oswald, our editor edits to make room," and so on. That is what you get. I was disappointed in the story, because the story was that I felt so sorry for Marina, to think that she had to go through the rest of her life thinking in her mind that her husband was the killer of President Kennedy, and that she would have to tell her children that she had gone down in history, that their father was the killer of President Kennedy. And I went on with a long story. I said—they said "Marina had stringy hair, and she didn't have this or that." Let me tell you, I would rather have Marina with the stringy hair and less clothes, but thinking that her husband was innocent, like she thought the 3 days I was there—rather than the picture now, where she smokes, she no longer nurses her baby, she left her baby in Texas to come to the Warren Commission, which is not the Marina I know.
"Marina, Mama, no, no, she never left her children." And well groomed. But she thinks now her husband shot President Kennedy. What an awful thing. I would much rather have no money and stringy hair and be the girl I was before, and believe my husband was innocent.
The Chairman. How much did Life pay you for your story?