Clint Hill Dallas, Death – Clint Hill, the Secret Service agent who became an enduring symbol of courage and tragedy after leaping onto President John F. Kennedy’s limousine in the chaotic moments following the assassination in Dallas, has died. He was 93. Hill passed away on Friday at his home in Belvedere, California, according to his publisher, Gallery Books. No cause of death was given.
Though his name may not be widely recognized, Hill’s actions on November 22, 1963, were immortalized in Abraham Zapruder’s haunting home movie of the assassination. The footage captured Hill sprinting toward the presidential limousine, climbing onto its trunk, and shielding First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy as the car sped away. It remains one of the most indelible images of that tragic day.
Hill, who was assigned to protect Mrs. Kennedy, was riding on the running board of the follow-up car when shots rang out in Dealey Plaza. He later told the Warren Commission that he reacted after hearing a shot and seeing the president slump in his seat. Despite his swift response, Hill was unable to reach the limousine before a fatal headshot struck Kennedy. For decades, Hill carried the weight of that day, blaming himself for not reacting faster.
“If I had reacted just a little bit quicker. And I could have, I guess,” a tearful Hill told Mike Wallace in a 1975 interview on CBS’ *60 Minutes*. “And I’ll live with that to my grave.”
Hill’s bravery earned him Secret Service awards and promotions, but the emotional toll of the assassination never left him. He retired from the agency at just 43, urged by doctors to step away due to deep depression and recurring memories of the tragedy. His story inspired the 1993 Clint Eastwood thriller *In the Line of Fire*, which depicted a former Secret Service agent haunted by the JFK assassination.
Born in 1932 in Washburn, North Dakota, Hill grew up in modest circumstances and served in the Army before joining the Secret Service in 1958. He quickly rose through the ranks, earning a spot on the elite team tasked with protecting the president and first family. After the assassination, Hill continued his career, eventually becoming the agent in charge of the White House protective detail and an assistant director of the Secret Service. Yet, the trauma of Dallas lingered, shaping the rest of his life.
In recent years, Hill began to find peace. He co-authored several books, including *Mrs. Kennedy and Me* and *Five Presidents*, which detailed his experiences in the Secret Service. He also became a sought-after speaker, sharing his story with audiences and reflecting on his journey toward healing. In 2018, he was honored with North Dakota’s highest civilian award, the Theodore Roosevelt Rough Rider Award, and his portrait now hangs in the state Capitol alongside other distinguished recipients.
Hill’s 1975 interview with Mike Wallace marked a turning point in his life. During the emotional conversation, Hill broke down several times, revealing the depth of his guilt and grief. Decades later, he credited that interview with helping him confront his emotions and begin to heal. “It was because of his questions and the things he asked that I started to recover,” Hill said during a 2006 appearance on CNN’s *Larry King Live*.
In 2021, Hill married Lisa McCubbin Hill, his co-author and longtime partner. “We had that once-in-a-lifetime love that everyone hopes for,” McCubbin Hill said in a statement. “We were soulmates.”
Clint Hill’s life was defined by an extraordinary act of bravery and a lifelong struggle to come to terms with its aftermath. His story is one of courage, sacrifice, and resilience—a reminder of the human cost of history’s most defining moments. He is survived by his wife, Lisa, and a legacy that will endure in the annals of American history.
A private funeral service will be held in Washington, D.C., at a later date. Clint Hill will be remembered not only for what he did on that fateful day in Dallas but for the strength he showed in the decades that followed. Rest in peace, Agent Hill. Your courage will never be forgotten.