On a chilly day in January 1963, President John F. Kennedy stood before Congress and laid out a bold vision for tax reform that would shake the very core of American wealth and power. For 45 minutes, he detailed plans to relieve tax burdens on low-income and elderly citizens, close loopholes, and remove special privileges that had long favored the nation’s richest. But it was one particular phrase that sent shockwaves through the corridors of power: “We must remove the oil depletion allowance.”

This seemingly technical policy proposal was, in fact, a declaration of war against the most powerful men in America—Texas oil barons who had amassed staggering fortunes thanks to a tax loophole that allowed them to deduct 27.5% of their income from oil extraction as depletion. This was no ordinary tax break; it was a license to print money, a financial engine fueling empires worth billions. The oil depletion allowance, created in 1913 and expanded in 1926, was unique to the oil industry, giving it an unmatched advantage over farmers, miners, and other industries.

To understand the magnitude of this tax break, consider this: an oilman drilling a well for $100,000 could deduct $275,000 annually from his taxable income for a decade, despite the initial investment being far less. This loophole saved Texas oilmen an estimated $280 to $300 million annually by 1963—equivalent to over $3 billion today. It was the foundation of fortunes for men like Haroldson Lafayette Hunt and Clint Merchesen, billionaires who wielded immense economic and political power.

Kennedy’s challenge to this status quo was not sudden. During the 1960 presidential campaign, he debated the oil depletion allowance with Richard Nixon, who favored keeping it intact. Initially cautious after assuming office, Kennedy’s resolve hardened by 1962, when he successfully passed a law cutting oil companies’ foreign investment earnings. But the January 17th, 1963 proposal to eliminate the depletion allowance entirely was a direct threat to the oil barons’ wealth and influence.

The oilmen’s fury was palpable. HL Hunt, a right-wing extremist who funded anti-communist propaganda and despised Kennedy, saw the president as a personal enemy. Clint Merchesen, a kingmaker in Texas politics and part of the clandestine Sweet 8F group, controlled vast political machinery and had deep ties to Lyndon Baines Johnson, then Vice President. Johnson, reliant on the oilmen’s support, had long protected their interests, including the depletion allowance. But as VP, Johnson’s power was limited, and Kennedy’s tax reforms loomed as an existential threat.

The stakes were higher than just money. Robert F. Kennedy, as Attorney General, was cracking down on corruption tied to Texas oil interests—investigating scandals that implicated Johnson and the oilmen’s political network. For the oil barons, Kennedy’s presidency threatened not only their wealth but their freedom.

The night before Kennedy’s assassination, a controversial account by Maline Duncan Brown claimed a secret meeting at Merchesen’s Dallas mansion with powerful figures including Hoover, Nixon, Hunt, and Johnson. Though disputed, the story captures the palpable tension and the high stakes involved.

On November 22nd, 1963, President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas. Within hours, Lyndon Johnson ascended to the presidency and swiftly shelved Kennedy’s tax reform agenda. The oil depletion allowance remained untouched throughout Johnson’s term and beyond, preserving billions in wealth for the oil barons.

The aftermath saw Kennedy’s enemies prosper. Johnson’s presidency was free from corruption probes. Hunt and Merchesen expanded their empires. Brown and Root, under George Brown, profited enormously from defense contracts during the Vietnam War. J. Edgar Hoover, despite his close ties to the oil elite, never investigated their possible role in the assassination.

Historians and researchers like Matthew Smith, Robert Caro, and Bar Mlen have documented the intricate connections between Texas oil interests, political corruption, and the survival of the oil depletion allowance. While no direct evidence conclusively proves the oil barons orchestrated Kennedy’s assassination, the motives, means, and timing align disturbingly well.

Kennedy’s assassination was not just a political tragedy—it was a business transaction with the highest stakes in American history. The men who stood to lose hundreds of millions annually had the power to influence politics, control law enforcement, and shape the course of events. The question remains: did they pull the trigger? Perhaps the truth lies buried with the secrets of Dallas, forever echoing the chilling phrase Kennedy uttered on that fateful January day: “We must remove the oil depletion allowance.”