Why Did Albert Thomas Smile at LBJ After JFK Was Killed?

Why Did Albert Thomas Smile at LBJ After JFK Was Killed?

At 2:38 p.m. Central Standard Time on November 22, 1963, Lyndon Baines Johnson raised his right hand in the cramped conference room of Air Force One at Love Field in Dallas, Texas. His left hand rested on a Catholic missal that had been mistaken for a Bible and found in President Kennedy's bedroom.

Twenty-seven people crowded into the 12-by-5-foot stateroom. There was no air conditioning, and four jet engines were warming up outside. The temperature rose as everyone sweated.

To Johnson's right stood Lady Bird Johnson, his wife. To his left stood Jacqueline Kennedy, still wearing her bloodstained pink Chanel suit. She was still in shock and still covered in her husband's blood and brain matter.

She had not changed. She refused to change. "Let them see what they've done," she had said.

Federal Judge Sarah Hughes, the first woman ever to administer the presidential oath, read the words slowly. Johnson repeated them: "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States and will to the best of my ability preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

White House photographer Cecil Stoughton stood on a leather couch with his camera raised, capturing the moment. He shot frame after frame, 19 photographs in total, from different angles and at different moments in sequence.

Then, seconds after the oath was complete, something strange happened. Something that would haunt conspiracy researchers for decades. Something captured in a single photograph that, by many accounts, should not exist.

Lyndon Johnson, just sworn in as president, standing next to a grief-stricken widow still wearing her husband's blood, turned around. He looked back over his shoulder and smiled. It was a wide, unmistakable smile.

He was looking at Congressman Albert Thomas, his longtime friend from Texas. And Albert Thomas, standing in the back among somber faces and shocked officials, winked. He smiled back with a knowing grin.

The official photograph is the one everyone knows. Johnson stands center frame, right hand raised, left hand on the book. His expression is solemn. Jackie Kennedy is to his left, grief-stricken. Lady Bird Johnson is to his right, composed. Judge Sarah Hughes administers the oath in front of him.

Somber faces surround them. The weight of history is captured in black and white. This is the photograph published everywhere, the iconic image of government continuing despite tragedy and of democracy prevailing.

But that famous photograph was carefully staged. Photographer Cecil Stoughton suggested the positioning. He placed Jackie Kennedy next to Johnson and angled her away from the camera so the bloodstains on her suit would not show.

He choreographed the scene, and Johnson cooperated. Johnson wanted Jackie there. He insisted on it.

Some historians say it was to show continuity, to demonstrate that Kennedy's people were supporting the transition, and to reassure the nation that this was not a coup. Others say Johnson wanted her there as a symbol and as evidence that he was the legitimate successor.

Jackie did not want to be there. She was in shock and traumatized. She had been holding pieces of her husband's skull in the limousine and had cradled his shattered head in her lap. She had refused to let go of his body at Parkland Hospital.

Now, less than two hours after watching him die, she was being asked to stand next to Lyndon Johnson while he became president. But Johnson insisted, and Jackie, numb and broken, complied.

So Cecil Stoughton took his photographs, 19 frames in all. The official record was documented and the solemn moment preserved for posterity.

But one photograph captured something different and unscripted, something that would only emerge years later when researchers began examining the full contact sheets from that day.

The photograph shows Johnson seconds after taking the oath, turning around, looking back, and smiling. It was not a polite smile or a nervous smile, but a wide, genuine smile, the smile of a man who had just achieved exactly what he wanted.

There in the background is Albert Thomas, congressman from Texas and Johnson's friend for decades. Thomas is smiling back. More than smiling, he is winking, his right eye closed, a knowing expression.

The photograph is called "the wink." When it first appeared in David Lifton's 1980 book "Best Evidence," it shocked researchers. This was not grief or solemnity. This was celebration and victory, two men sharing a moment of triumph.

Albert Richard Thomas was born April 12, 1898, in Nacogdoches, Texas. He was a Rice Institute graduate and a University of Texas Law School graduate. He served as a district attorney and had been a U.S. congressman since 1937.

He spent 26 years in the House of Representatives. He was chairman of the House Defense Appropriations Committee, a member of the Joint Committee on Atomic Energy, and a member of the Suite 8F group.

The Suite 8F group was the most powerful political machine in Texas, named after a suite in the Lamar Hotel in Houston where they met. The group included Texas oil billionaires, defense contractors, and politicians.

Among them were George Brown of Brown and Root, later Halliburton, oilman Hugh Roy Cullen, banker Gus Wortham, and their political operatives Lyndon Johnson and Albert Thomas. These men controlled Texas, federal contracts, and defense spending, and they made fortunes from government appropriations.

Lyndon Johnson was their man in Washington. Albert Thomas was their second man. Together, they funneled billions of dollars to Texas companies, defense contracts, oil subsidies, and NASA facilities.

It was Albert Thomas who secured the location of NASA's Manned Spacecraft Center, later renamed the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center in Houston. He convinced Rice University to donate land, pushed through appropriations, and made Houston the center of America's space program.

Thomas was Johnson's closest ally in Congress. When Johnson was Senate Majority Leader, Thomas was his counterpart in the House. When Johnson became vice president, Thomas continued to push his agenda. They spoke constantly and coordinated strategies.

On November 21, 1963, Albert Thomas accompanied Kennedy and Johnson to Texas. He was on the plane to San Antonio, to Houston, and to Fort Worth. On November 22, he was in the motorcade in Dallas.

He witnessed the assassination. He rode to Parkland Hospital. He got on Air Force One with Johnson, and he was there in that crowded conference room when Johnson took the oath.

So why did Albert Thomas wink at Lyndon Johnson seconds after Johnson became president? Conspiracy researchers have asked this question for decades, and the answers fall into two camps.

The official explanation is that it was nothing, a moment of relief or a reassuring gesture between old friends. Thomas was telling Johnson that everything would be okay. It was a human moment, perhaps inappropriate given the circumstances, but understandable.

The conspiracy explanation is darker. The wink was a signal and a confirmation. "We did it. We pulled it off. You're president now." It was a conspiratorial acknowledgment between two men who knew the truth.

This interpretation sounds extreme until other photographs from that day are considered. The wink was not the only disturbing moment captured on film.

Lady Bird Johnson is shown smiling in multiple photographs. Not the polite, composed smile of a woman maintaining dignity during tragedy, but genuine, happy expressions.

In one photograph taken moments before the oath, Lady Bird is beaming, as if this were the happiest day of her life. And in a sense, it was, because she was about to become first lady after years as second lady, a role she reportedly hated.

Then there is Johnson himself. In the moments before the oath, he was calm, composed, and almost businesslike. He gave orders, made phone calls, and coordinated the transition.

He behaved like a man who had been preparing for this moment. According to conspiracy researchers, he had reason to. Johnson knew Kennedy was planning to drop him from the 1964 ticket.

Johnson knew the Bobby Baker scandal was about to damage him. Johnson knew Life magazine was preparing an exposé that could send him to prison. He had weeks, maybe days, before everything collapsed.

Then Kennedy was shot and everything changed instantly. The scandals disappeared, the investigations stopped, and the exposé was cancelled. Johnson became president. The timing was perfect, perhaps too perfect.

There was also a delay before the oath on Air Force One. Kennedy was pronounced dead at Parkland Hospital at 1 p.m. Johnson left the hospital at 1:20 p.m. and arrived at Air Force One at 1:33 p.m., but the plane did not take off.

Air Force One sat on the runway at Love Field while Johnson made calls, gave orders, and coordinated the oath. The official explanation is that Johnson wanted Judge Sarah Hughes to administer the oath and insisted on waiting for her to arrive.

He wanted a proper swearing-in with witnesses and a photographer. But there is another explanation. Johnson was waiting for Jackie Kennedy. He wanted her on that plane and in the photograph. He needed her presence to legitimize his presidency.

Jackie did not want to leave Parkland Hospital. She was with her husband's body and refused to leave him. Eventually, under pressure, she agreed to go to Air Force One. She insisted Kennedy's body come with her.

At 2:18 p.m., Kennedy's casket was loaded onto the plane. Jackie boarded shortly after. Only then did Johnson proceed with the oath. He insisted Jackie stand beside him. She did not want to.

Kenny O'Donnell, Kennedy's aide, tried to protect her, but Johnson insisted. Jackie, broken and traumatized, stood next to the man who was taking her husband's job.

The oath took 28 seconds. At 2:38 p.m., Lyndon Johnson became president. At 2:41 p.m., three minutes later, Air Force One took off for Washington.

During the flight back to Washington, multiple witnesses reported something else disturbing. According to a retired Secret Service agent who mentioned it years later, Johnson went into the presidential bedroom, Kennedy's bedroom, and sprawled on the bed. He smoked a cigar and laughed hysterically.

Jackie Kennedy remained in the back of the plane, sitting next to her husband's casket, numb and destroyed, while Johnson laughed in the bedroom.

There is something else strange about the wink photograph. The original negative is missing. In 1995, researcher Richard Trask wrote "Pictures of the Pain," a comprehensive book about the photography of Kennedy's assassination.

Trask interviewed Cecil Stoughton extensively and examined the contact sheets from Air Force One. He analyzed every frame Stoughton shot that day and discovered something troubling.

All of Stoughton's negatives from the swearing-in ceremony exist except one. The negative for the wink photograph is missing. The photograph exists only as a copy negative, a reproduction, not the original.

Some researchers claim the photograph is fake. They point to technical inconsistencies. The lighting does not match other frames. The contrast is too high. The grain structure is different. Albert Thomas appears slightly out of focus.

Other experts disagree. They say the photograph is authentic. The lighting differences are explained by Stoughton switching cameras mid-ceremony. He started with a Hasselblad, then switched to a Contax. The high contrast is due to the lack of flash.

Stoughton shot with available light because the plane was being powered up and the external power had been disconnected. The out-of-focus Thomas is explained by movement. He was winking, which involves movement and would cause slight blur.

In 2017, a blogger analyzed the photographs extensively. His conclusion was that the photograph is real, but the wink was captured accidentally. Stoughton had put his first camera down and thought he was done shooting, then grabbed his second camera and fired off one more frame.

In that frame, he caught Thomas winking, something Thomas thought no one would see because the photographer had put his camera down. That explanation makes the photograph even more revealing, because if Thomas thought no one was watching, the wink becomes more genuine.

Stoughton himself described the photograph as sinister. That was the word he used. Not inappropriate, not awkward, but sinister.

Why would Kennedy's official photographer, the man who documented JFK's presidency with reverence and respect, describe a photograph of the presidential oath as sinister? Because he saw something in that moment that disturbed him.

Albert Thomas died on February 15, 1966, less than two and a half years after Kennedy's assassination. He died in Washington, D.C., at age 67. He never commented publicly on the wink photograph and never explained it.

His widow, Lera Thomas, was elected to complete his term. She became the first woman to represent Texas in Congress. The Albert Thomas Convention Center in Houston was named in his honor.

The photograph remained filed away in the archives, largely ignored, until David Lifton published it in "Best Evidence" in 1980. Suddenly, researchers could not stop talking about it.

The wink captured something undeniable and inappropriate. Two men smiling and winking at each other seconds after the president of the United States was sworn in following an assassination, in the presence of the murdered president's widow, still covered in his blood.

No matter how it is interpreted, as relief, reassurance, conspiracy, or celebration, it is disturbing. And it raises the same question people have asked for more than 60 years. What did Lyndon Johnson and Albert Thomas know, and when did they know it?

One possibility is that the wink meant nothing, an inappropriate moment between old friends. Thomas was trying to reassure Johnson in a stressful situation, and Johnson smiled back out of politeness.

But that explanation does not account for the genuine, wide smiles on both their faces seconds after a presidential assassination in front of a widow.

A second possibility is that the wink was a signal of relief. Thomas was telling Johnson that he had survived and was safe now, because there were fears that this was a larger conspiracy and that Johnson might be next.

But if that was the concern, why was Johnson so calm? Why did he insist on waiting for Judge Hughes? Why did he choreograph the photograph? Why did he demand Jackie Kennedy stand beside him? A man fearing for his life does not delay takeoff for an hour or pose for photographs.

A third possibility is that the wink was a conspiracy signal. Thomas was confirming the success of the plot, and Johnson was acknowledging it. They shared a moment of triumph because they had just pulled off the assassination of a sitting president.

This explanation sounds extreme until everything else is considered. The timing, the motives, the scandals that disappeared, the investigations that stopped, and the exposés that were cancelled.

In the official photograph, the one published everywhere, Johnson looks solemn, appropriate, and presidential. The weight of the moment is captured on his face. But that was the pose, the performance, the image carefully staged for public consumption.

The wink captured what came after, when Johnson thought the performance was over, when he turned around and let his guard down for just a second and smiled at his friend who winked back. That is the photograph that haunts researchers.

Grief does not smile. Trauma does not wink. Tragedy does not celebrate. But conspiracy does. Victory does. Success does.

On Air Force One on November 22, 1963, in the seconds after Lyndon Johnson became president, someone captured a moment that should not exist. A smile, a wink, a celebration.

The question is not whether the photograph is real. The question is what it means. After more than 60 years, there is still no definitive answer. There are theories, interpretations, and arguments, but no proof.

What remains is a photograph, two men smiling, and a dead president's widow standing right there, along with the uncomfortable truth that something about that moment is wrong. Deeply, fundamentally wrong.