Caught in the Line of Fire

By WALTER ISAACSON

Three victims who served the President well

Because all of them in their chosen fields had proved themselves among the best at what they do, they had earned the right to be with the President as he left the Washington Hilton Hotel last week. James Brady, 40, through an admixture of diligence, drive and affability, had parlayed 19 years of handling public relations work--including stints with the Defense Department, Senator William Roth and Candidate John Connally--into the plum of his profession, presidential press secretary. Timothy McCarthy, 31, the son of a Chicago policeman, joined the Secret Service in 1972 and two years ago won assignment to the prestigious presidential protection detail.

Thomas Delahanty, 45, had received more than 30 letters of commendation in his 17 years on the Washington, D.C., police force. When his canine patrol partner, a German shepherd named Kirk, became ill last week, Delahanty was a natural choice for the Hilton assignment. The trio's diverse paths led them, for two tragic seconds last week, into the line of fire between John Hinckley's revolver and the man he allegedly intended to assassinate.

Brady was by far the most seriously injured. A bullet entered his forehead just over his left eye and crossed through to the right side of his brain. Word quickly spread that he had died, causing gasps and sobs in the White House West Wing among aides and members of the seasoned press corps, for whom Brady, through his wit and warmth, had become more of a joyous friend than a mere professional colleague. For five hours, surgeons working with the aid of a microscope performed a delicate craniotomy, lifting off the top of his skull to remove a significant portion of his right frontal brain lobe, which, among other functions, controls motor activity on the body's left side. When the operation was over, Brady was still alive and slowly regaining consciousness. Said his relieved surgeon, Dr. Arthur Kobrine:

"Eight out of ten people die from this kind of injury."

That so many questions from reporters during the early hours of last week's crisis concerned Brady's health may have seemed somewhat baffling to those outside the press corps. In twelve short weeks on the job, he had succeeded, despite the difficulties inherent in his work, in winning both the respect and the affection of the press. Brady, called "the Bear" because, well, he looks a bit like one, has a broad relish for life beyond politics. That enthusiasm embraces the hapless Chicago Cubs, gourmet cooking and, of course, his wife Sarah, whom he calls "Raccoon" because, well, he thinks she looks like one.

This joie de vivre, friends like to think, was more than a match for the gunman's bullet.

Brady's humor ranges from jolly quips to droll deadpan. Shortly before the shooting, he was the guest at one of Washington's institutionalized breakfasts with reporters. Instead of the light banter and gentle questions that tend to open such discussions, he was immediately slung a sharp query on conflicts within the Administration. After a pause he responded with perfect poker face: "Where has foreplay gone?" At last month's Gridiron Club dinner, an event that features journalists performing parodies of politicians, a Brady impersonator lampooned the report that Nancy Reagan had opposed his appointment because he was not "good-looking" enough to project the Reagan Administration image. Sang he: "She's grown accustomed to my face." Brady laughed as loudly as any of the press and politicians in the audience. With the first signs that Brady might survive, colleagues and friends at the White House placed a small stuffed Teddy bear with a Cubs' baseball cap on his chair.

McCarthy, who had been trained to interpose his body between the President and any gunfire -- and who defied all innate human instincts by doing just that -- was hit in the right side of his chest.

The bullet passed through the chest muscles, lung, diaphragm and part of the liver before lodging against a rib. An hour-long operation was successful in removing the bullet and draining the blood that had collected in his abdominal cavity.

Elizabeth McCarthy, his mother, was watching television with her daughter shortly after the shooting when a tape of the tragedy came on. Says Daughter Karen: "Suddenly, as we watched, we saw where he was hit and fell. We both knew at once that it was Tim. Mom gasped.

We both cried and hugged each other and prayed." As McCarthy recovered from surgery, his superiors praised him for executing his mission perfectly. Said Jerry Parr, head of the presidential protection detail: "I think what Agent McCarthy did was most heroic." His eldest sister Laurie joked that "thousands of relatives" would soon be flying to Washington to see their "hero."

Police Officer Delahanty's wife also saw her husband's shooting on television. "I didn't even know he was with the President," she said. The bullet struck Delahanty's left shoulder and lodged in his neck, damaging no blood vessels but bruising a nerve. The result of his wound seemed minor: a temporary loss of sensation on the inside of his left forearm, excessive sweating of the palm and erection of the hairs on his arm. In fact, doctors saw no reason even to remove the bullet from his neck -- until it was discovered that Hinckley had used explosive bullets.

They then decided to carefully remove it through an incision in his back. After receiving praise from official visitors, including Vice President George Bush and Mayor Marion Barry, Delahanty was due to leave the hospital within days.

For Brady, the prognosis was not as good, though he surprised doctors by his survival. At week's end, although the danger of infection or swelling still lurked, he was taken off the critical list. Brain tissue recovers so slowly that it may be as much as a year before the full extent of any permanent damage is known. Until then, each sign of improvement is being watched closely and reported hopefully. He has been able to move his right arm and leg on command. There has even been some movement of his left side. He has also been able to count to three and toss a gauze ball. Perhaps the most hopeful sign that Jim Brady is not only alive but still Jim Brady came when he recognized his wife and gave her hand a squeeze. Said he, carefully: "Raccoon."

-- By Walter Isaacson.

Reported by Peter Staler/Washington

With reporting by Peter Stoler

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