How Dallas came to terms with tragedy

"There are things in life you have to face up to," says Mr. Shook, now retired. "I thought it was time for us to say, 'This is what happened; this is where it happened.' "

At that time, Dallas was booming, and the county government was in need of more space. It was Shook's responsibility to find it, and the old Book Depository seemed one of the best sites for expansion. Soon after he made inquiries about buying the building, Shook received calls from business and political figures who were alarmed. They opposed any "monument to Lee Harvey Oswald."

Shook's reply was: "If we buy that building and tear it down, what are people going to think? If we don't buy it, how are we to know what someone else will do?"

A promoter from Nashville had, in fact, purchased it after the Book Depository Co. moved out in 1970. He intended to create a commercial JFK museum but defaulted on his mortgage payments in 1972, shortly after an arsonist failed to burn down the building. New rumors surfaced that other enterprising exhibitors had plans to buy the structure, leaving open the possibility for a macabre sideshow.

A plan to make "adaptive reuse" of the lower floors began to win adherents. In 1977, voters approved a bond issue to buy the building and adapt the lower floors as county offices. Shook and other county officials approached Adams and the county's Historical Commission. Would the commission take the next step?

Initially, Adams didn't want to even look inside the building, and she was offended by the fascination visitors had for the site. "I started observing the plaza crowds day and night," recalls Adams. "I realized that this was part of the city's history, tragic though it was. But we had nothing on site to explain what had happened. Something had to be done - and well done."

Adams tried to find help planning and funding the museum, but received no positive response. Philanthropists, accustomed to supporting warm and fuzzy projects, feared a museum could subject the city to a new round of criticism.

Adams turned to Conover Hunt, an energetic historian and museum consultant. As the county developed plans for the lower floors, Ms. Hunt received a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities to bring in museum experts, who concluded the best location for a museum was the sixth floor.

The old warehouse finally became a public facility in 1981, but plans for the museum still languished, despite hundreds of presentations. In his inaugural speech in 1987, Judge Lee Jackson, one of Dallas's county commissioners, reinvigorated the drive by publicly committing himself to making the museum a reality.

On Presidents' Day in 1989 the museum opened. It now attracts more than 500,000 visitors a year. The museum covers the legendary Kennedy charisma, the '60s, the Texas trip, the assassination, investigations, and conspiracy theories.

"It took the federal government 100 years to do with Ford's Theater what Dallas did in less than 30," Shook said.

The formal dedication ceremony took place Nov. 22, 1993, when 6,000 people filled the plaza. "Thirty years ago, fate brought me here as an unwilling player in the most unforgettable, tragic drama of our times," said Nellie Connally, former first lady of Texas, whose husband, Gov. John Connally, was wounded in the assassination. "Now, three decades later, we are gathered here not to look back with grief but to look forward with hope."

• The museum will mark the 40th anniversary of JFK's death with two events: a concert by the Dallas Symphony and a photo exhibit by Jacques Loew.

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