Taxi Driver: How an Antihero Inspired an Assassination Attempt, Parts 3 and 4
This is the final part of Mike Clark's guest article. The first part can be found here.
Part III: Plotting an Assassination
John Lennon is dead.
Hinckley returned to Colorado at the end of October and continued to write obsessively. Earlier writings of his revealed the distressing and increasingly deranged subjects of his short stories and poems:
In one story, a chess player kills himself; in another, a man rejects God on his deathbed, an act Hinckley portrayed as an act of courage. His most vivid descriptions were of pain: of a mind being destroyed by “dozens of ravenous lice,” of a “hypodermic penis caught inside a working meat grinder,” of a “few more hungry animals” chewing on a man’s bones.
A psychiatrist who treated Hinckley in August dismissed concerns and instead prescribed an antidepressant and Valium, ultimately concluding that he was someone who simply “needed to get his shit together.” After returning home in the fall, John, Jr. expressed renewed concerns to his parents and complained of “dizziness, headaches, pain in his arms, weakness in his legs, and heart palpitations.”
Distressed and deranged, John Hinckley, Jr. attempted the first of several known suicide attempts, failing to overdose on his antidepressants. He later enlisted the treatment of another psychiatrist to whom he admitted the cause of his suicidal impulses in an autobiographical essay written during therapy: “A relationship I had dreamed about went absolutely nowhere,” he pointed to, “my disillusionment with EVERYTHING was complete. I gave up on myself and came back to Colorado.” While Foster was referenced just once in the ten psychiatric sessions that followed, Hinckley’s obsession with the actress deepened.
In late November, John penned an anonymous tip to FBI headquarters:
“There is a plot underway to abduct actress Jodie Foster from Yale University Dorm in December or January. No ransom. She’s being taken for romantic reasons. This is no joke! I don’t wish to get further involved. Act as you wish.”
He continued infrequent visits to the campus leaving love letters and short notes at her door. Signed J.W.H., the notes included promises that Foster would be rescued and urged her to admit feelings for him. “Don’t you maybe like me just a little bit?” he asked. “You must admit I am different. It would make all of this worthwhile.” Driven only by his compulsion for her adoration and the catharsis of his writing, Hinckley’s disillusionment mirrored Bickle’s. While Travis Bickle’s climatic derangement began with a screenplay and was captured on set, John Hinckley, Jr.’s started on 72nd Street with an historic and sudden slaying that winter.
On December 8, 1980, Beatles and music icon John Lennon was shot dead outside of his Dakota apartment by a deranged fan who claimed to have been inspired by J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye. After firing five shots, assassin Mark David Chapman sat and read the book until police arrived and took the man into custody. While fans echoed Lennon’s signature plea for peace in the wake of his assassination, the killer’s antihero-inspired act may have inadvertently inspired another.
Hinckley was devastated by Lennon’s death. The Beatles star was a hero of his and the principal influence in his desire to become a world-renowned songwriter and musician. Near the height of his depression in the late winter, Hinckley traveled to New York and contemplated committing suicide at the entryway of the Dakota Apartments where Lennon had been gunned down by Chapman. Coupled with Foster’s continued rejection of his romantic advances, the suicidal wanderer’s psychotic derangement reached new levels.
"John Lennon is dead. The world is over. Forget it. It’s just gonna be insanity, if I even make it through the first few days… I still regret having to go on with 1981… I don’t know why people wanna live… John Lennon is dead… I still think-I still think about Jodie all the time. That’s all I think about really. That, and John Lennon’s death. They were sorta binded together…"
Delusional in his psychotic pursuit for the unrequited love of a young Hollywood starlet, Hinckley envisioned himself as an antihero. He was ready for his movie to end. As the audience had done for Bickle, Hinckley hoped others would view his actions (whatever they proved to be) through a compassionate and sympathetic lens. He was certain that others would understand.; after all, they had understood Travis. However, John Hinckley, Jr. was no hero, a point his own defense attorney later conceded in his closing arguments:
“… he saw the movie Taxi Driver and he made identification, sympathized with Travis Bickle. I can’t quite call him a hero. You saw the movie. Characterize him as you will.”
“In the aftermath of violence, the distinction between hero and villain is sometimes a matter of interpretation or misinterpretation of facts.”
Part IV: The Assassination
March 30, 1981
Hinckley spends the morning at a McDonald’s just blocks from the White House. Between bites of an Egg McMuffin, he considers his heroic final act. He remains open to four options:
Taking a train to Yale’s New Haven campus to commit suicide in front of Jodie Foster
Assassinating Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy
A mass shooting in the Senate chamber
Killing President Ronald Reagan
On the way back to his room at the Park Central Hotel, Hinckley picks up a copy of the Washington Star. Slouched on a worn wire spring mattress, an item on Page A4 catches his attention: Schedule of Congressional Activities. In a few hours, President Reagan is scheduled to speak at the Washington Hilton just a mile from where Hinckley is staying. Standing to place an empty Pepsi can on the air conditioner, he’s narrowed his options to two: go to New Haven or go to the Hilton.
John showers, anxiously mulling whether his “mortal hatred” for New Haven and desire to keep Jodie safe are worth the train ride to Connecticut. Drying off, he swallows Valium and slips into a pair of jeans, a monocolored t-shirt, and jacket from J.C. Penny. Exiting the hotel, Hinckley steps into the capital streets. One thing is certain: Hinckley has no intention of returning to the Park Central Hotel. In Room 312, he leaves behind a curious collection of books, clothes, and devotions to both Lennon and Foster. He does so intentionally.
Having penned a final letter to Foster, Hinckley hails a taxi. The Taxi Driver is headed to the Hilton Hotel.
“Dear Jodie:There is definitely a possibility that I will be killed in my attempt to get Reagan. It is for this very reason that I am writing you this letter now.As you well know by now I love you very much. Over the past seven months I’ve left you dozens of poems, letters and love messages in the faint hope that you could develop an interest in me. Although we talked on the phone a couple of times I never had the nerve to simply approach you and introduce myself. Besides my shyness, I honestly did not wish to bother you with my constant presence. I know the many messages left at your door and in your mailbox were a nuisance, but I felt that it was the most painless way for me to express my love for you.I feel very good about the fact that you at least know my name and how I feel about you. And by hanging around your dormitory, I’ve come to realize that I’m the topic of more than a little conversation, however full of ridicule it may be. At least you know that I’ll always love you. Jodie, I would abandon the idea of getting Reagan in a second if I could only win your heart and live out the rest of my life with you, whether it be in total obscurity or whatever.I will admit to you that the reason I’m going ahead with this attempt now is because I cannot wait any longer to impress you. I’ve got to do something now to make you understand, in no uncertain terms, that I’m doing all of this for your sake! By sacrificing my freedom and possibly my life, I hope to change your mind about me. This letter is being written only an hour before I leave for the Hilton Hotel. Jodie, I’m asking you to please look into your heart and at least give the chance, with this historical deed, to gain your love and respect.I love you forever,
John W. Hinckley
At the Hilton Hotel, John Hinckley, Jr. waits among the crowd of press and spectators as President Reagan arrives. Some forty feet away, yet still within range of a .22 revolver and six Devastator bullets, the presidential motorcade arrives curbside. John readies himself, his hands nervously fumbling within his jacket pocket. Exiting the limousine, the president waves to the crowd and steps closer. Hickley sets his sights, leans forward, and… waves back, caught in the excitement of seeing the president of the United States in person.
Reagan arrives without incident. Frustrated and ashamed, Hinckley retreats from outside and paces through the hotel lobby to collect his thoughts. A light rain becomes heavier as the crowd waits for Reagan’s eventual exit. Rejoining the press pool, Hinckley begins to have second thoughts as his excitement and desperation to follow through with the assassination dampen. He sets an ultimatum: if Reagan does not appear in the next ten minutes, then it’s not worth waiting in the rain and he’ll head up to New Haven to find Foster instead.
John continues his wait and is able to move to the front of the crowd just behind a makeshift station. To his right, a concrete wall. To his left, a crowd unaware of what is about to happen. During his arrival, Reagan was dropped off at a VIP entrance far from the crowd. For his exit, his presidential limousine parks at a second entrance, one that puts him just ten feet from Hinckley. Because his walk and commute are so short, Reagan is not wearing a bulletproof vest.
The ten minutes Hinckley has set in his ultimatum draw near. Reagan appears. As photographers and members of the media jostle for a shot of the president, Hinckley readies for a shot of his own. Noticing that Secret Service and police, who usually face the crowd, were instead facing the president, the assassin reaches into his right pocket and pulls out a Röhm RG-14 revolver he pawned from a Dallas shop. Fixated on his target, Hinckley grabs the butt of the pistol with both hands and bends at the knees. He fires six shots in just 1.7 seconds.
His first shot strikes White House press secretary James Brady in the head just above the left eye (the inspiration for Eminem’s incurious “braindead like Jim Brady” lyric). His second shot strikes D.C. Metro police officer Thomas Delahanty. The third shot finds only air while the fourth hits a Secret Service agent in the torso. Hinckley’s final two shots hit the presidential limousine. After firing, Hinckley closed his eyes, expecting agents to return fire and kill him, true to plot. Instead, he is immediately punched and tackled by press, spectators, and Secret Service agents.
Through the gunfire, President Reagan is pushed into the backseat of the presidential limousine by Secret Service agent Jerry Parr. Laying in relative safety, the president grows upset with agent Parr as the motorcade speeds away, fearing the force of his push and a collision with the frame of the door has left him with a broken rib. The reality is far worse. Hinckley’s sixth and final shot ricocheted off of the limousine and into Reagan’s torso, piercing his lung. The President would narrowly survive the attempt.
While in custody, Hinckley is interrogated as puzzled officers prod for a motive. Veteran D.C. homicide detective Eddie Myers takes notice of five (5) photographs found in the assassin’s wallet. They feature an attractive young woman, who in two photographs suggestively models as an athlete and co-ed.
Myers: Who's the girl in your wallet?
Hinckley: She's a friend of mine.
Myers: Why did you do this?
Hinckley: When you find my room, you'll know why.
The photos are of Jodie Foster. In his hotel room, investigators find his letter to Foster, ammunition, antidepressants, several books, and scores of Hinckley’s own writings. They also find a postcard with a picture of Ronald and Nancy Reagan and a note to Jodie Foster asking “You are a virgin, aren’t you?” on its other side.
John W. Hinckley, Jr. was indicted by a federal grand jury on thirteen counts, including the attempted assassination of a U.S. president. In June 1892, Hinckley was found not guilty by reason of insanity. Author and historian Doug Linder notes:
An ABC News poll taken the day after the verdict showed 83% of those polled thought “justice was not done” in the Hinckley case. Some people — without much evidence — attributed the verdict to an anti-Reagan bias on the part of the Washington, D. C. jury of eleven blacks and one white. Many more people, however, blamed a legal system that they claimed made it too easy for juries to return “not guilty” verdicts in insanity cases — despite the fact that such pleas were made in only 2% of felony cases and failed over 75% of the time.”
Committed to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Washington, D.C., Hinckley wrote a letter to TIME Magazine in which he claimed “we [John and Jodie] are a historical couple, like Napoleon and Josephine, and a romantic couple like Romeo and Juliet.” Despite that insistence, he would later find a girlfriend at St. Elizabeth — Leslie deVeau, who was committed after shooting and killing her ten-year-old daughter while she slept in a failed murder-suicide. Though deVeau was released after four years, the pair continued dating for 16 years, splitting in 2004.
Hinckley was released from St. Elizabeth’s in September 2016 after three decades of confinement and currently lives in Virginia. He is 64 years old.