MR. RAVENNER: Then you admit, you knowingly associated with the Communist militants, Mr. and Mrs. Diego Rivera?
MR. SHEPHERD: Yes.
MR. RAVENNER:: For what purpose?
MR. SHEPHERD: In the instance you mention, to oversee the transport of her paintings to galleries in New York.
MR. RAVENNER: They hired you to carry crates across the border into the United States. Where you have now remained nearly ten years. My documents say there were eight crates altogether, some of them too large for a man to lift by himself.
MR. SHEPHERD: That’s right. We used hand trucks to get them off the trains.
MR. RAVENNER: Did you know precisely what you were transporting? Did you pack these crates yourself?
MR. SHEPHERD: No. I had a roster with the names of the paintings.
MR. RAVENNER: You smuggled large crates of unknown content into this country? From the headquarters of some of the most dangerous Communists in any country touching our borders. Is that correct?
(The defendant conferred briefly with the identified friend, Arthur Gold.)
MR. SHEPHERD: Congressmen, nothing exploded.
MR. WOOD: What say?
MR. SHEPHERD: I delivered artworks. You’re hinting at a crime that was not committed.
MR. WOOD: Mr. Shepherd, I will put to you then a different question. Could this so-called artwork also be called Communist propaganda?
MR. SHEPHERD: In my opinion, sir? Art takes its meaning in the eye of the beholder.
MR. RAVENNER: Could you state an answer in plain English? What was the purpose of the concealed objects you transported into this country?
MR. SHEPHERD: May I answer freely?
MR. RAVENNER: In your own words, yes. All right.
MR. SHEPHERD: The purpose of art is to elevate the spirit, or pay a surgeon’s bill. Or both, really. It can help a person remember or forget. If your house doesn’t have many windows in it, you can hang up a painting and have a view. Of a whole different country, if you want. If your spouse is homely, you can gaze at a lovely face and not get in trouble for it.
(Laughter in the gallery.)
It can be painted on a public wall or locked in a mansion. The first paintings Mrs. Kahlo ever sold went to one of your famous film stars, Edward G. Robinson. Art is one thing I do know about. A book has all the same uses I mentioned, especially for the house without enough windows. Art by itself is nothing, until it comes into that house. People here wanted Mrs. Kahlo’s art, and I carried it.
(Silence in the gallery.)
You asked me why I’ve stayed here so long. I can try to say. People have a lot of color and songs in Mexico, more art than they have hopes, it often seemed to me. Here, I found people bursting with hope but not many songs. They didn’t sing, they turned on the radio. They wanted stories, like anything. So I decided to try my hand at making art for the hopeful. Because I wasn’t any good at the other thing, manufacturing hopes for the artful. America was the most hopeful place I’d ever imagined. My neighbors were giving over their hairpins and door hinges to melt down for building the good ship America. I wanted to give her things too. So I stayed here.
(Quiet in the gallery for some time. Of an unusual kind, the type to hear a pin drop.)
MR. RAVENNER: You say that Edward G. Robinson is an associate of Communists?
MR. SHEPHERD: I’m sorry, I might have made a mistake. It was a long time ago. It might have been J. Edgar Hoover who bought the paintings.
(Considerable laughter in the gallery.)
MR. WOOD: Order!
MR. RAVENNER: Now see here, if you continue to mock this hearing we will hold you in contempt of Congress. I am going to ask you a series of questions to which you will answer Yes or No. One word beyond that will get you removed to the jail house. Do you understand me?
MR. SHEPHERD: Yes.
MR. RAVENNER: Do you now, or did you ever, work for Communists in Mexico?
MR. SHEPHERD: Yes.
MR. RAVENNER: Have you yourself written works about foreign people, men disloyal to their leaders, with the intention of distributing these tracts widely in the United States?
(Pause.)
MR. SHEPHERD: Yes.
MR. RAVENNER: Have you been in contact with Communist revolutionaries since coming to the United States?
MR. SHEPHERD: Yes.
MR. RAVENNER: I have here a good deal of evidence, in print, news articles and so forth, to the effect your books are being read in Communist China. That you opposed the use of the atomic bomb. I have evidence you made the following statement. I want you to listen carefully, and then confirm or deny it. And here I quote Mr. Shepherd: “Our leader is an empty sack. You could just as well knock him over, put a head with horns on a stick, and follow that. Most of us never choose to believe in the nation, we just come up short on better ideas.” Mr. Shepherd, are these your words?
MR. SHEPHERD: A few among many, yes. In a story.
MR. RAVENNER: Mr. Shepherd, I am asking a simple question. Did you write these words? You are asked only to confirm or deny.
MR. SHEPHERD: Yes. Those are my words.
MR. RAVENNER: Mr. Wood, gentlemen, that is all I have. This hearing is finished.
Afterward, 1959
by Violet Brown
The Asheville Trumpet, July 16, 1951
Obituary
Harrison Shepherd, 34, perished June 29 while swimming in the ocean near Mexico City. A resident of Asheville, the deceased had traveled to Mexico under an assumed name while under investigation for crimes including dismissal from the Department of State for treasonous actions, misrepresentation of qualifications and fraud. He wrote two books, had no record of military service and was well known as a Communist. Authorities cite no evidence of foul play and believe he took his life. Reared in a broken home, Shepherd leaves no survivors. No services are planned.
The most important part of a story is the piece of it you don’t know. He said that plenty. It would be no surprise if he asks for that put on his gravestone, if there is to be one. There you see. Hangs the tale, and still yet more to find out.
You believe a thing is hopeless. You believe a book burned, yet the words persist. In this case twice, first in Mexico, his notes and drafts all taken by police after the murder, meant for destruction but precariously rescued. Then later on given to me for burning, and not burned. You believe a life ended, but the newsmen can’t make that true by saying so, even saying it many times. It’s dying makes a death, and living makes life.
The salvation of all, the life or the tale either one, I’ll come to directly. First the notebooks. For you see I hadn’t burned them, the day I was asked. He said I could only stay on working with him if we disposed of every word, his life entire if you asked me. I saw what he meant to do that day, and why. He took those writings to be evidence for his hanging. But I believed it could be otherwise, evidence for the good in him. I had no idea what his notes contained, but I knew the man.