"Camelot,” the 1960 Broadway musical, is a medieval tale based on the folklore of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, including Guinevere and Lancelot. It is the glamorous, romantic yet tragic story of courage and gallantry, passion-fed betrayal, chivalry, love and loyalty. In Killing Kennedy by Bill O’Reilly and Martin Dugard, we come to understand the magical aura of the Kennedy years’ affinity with Camelot, through the authors’ superb accounting, explanation, and meaning of this national tragedy.

On November 8, 1960, Americans went to the polls and replaced one of their oldest presidents, Dwight D. Eisenhower (70), with the youngest (43) president ever elected. A handsome and charismatic Massachusetts senator with a beautiful, eloquent wife and two adorable children, John (and Jacqueline) Kennedy offered a youthful idealism, not only in the direction of our country but our identity as a nation. JFK inspired and challenged Americans to serve their country, setting a prime example through his leadership and hard work. JFK and Jackie’s marriage portrayed a romantic love story: he a confident, former war hero and dedicated father; she of elegance and style, poise and grace. When she wasn’t enchanting Parisian and American audiences, Jackie restored and elevated an undistinguished White House with historical antiques, fine art, impeccable decorating, and fashionably sophisticated yet lively social events. Through black-and-white television broadcasts, all became available to U.S. audiences. America fell in love with their First Family.

At the opposite end of Killing Kennedy, we meet the lone assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, a former U.S. Marine with communist leanings who defected to Russia for a period before returning to American soil. We learn much about Oswald’s earlier years, whereabouts, associations, and violent personal activities. The book’s pulse-raising track traces the steps of the President and Oswald in the months and days leading up to the killing of the President like two trains hurtling toward each other on a deadly collision course.

O’Reilly and Dugard are masterful in recounting and revealing exquisite details of these events. But as they did in Killing Lincoln, the authors omit the irrelevant clutter, allowing the narrative to move at a driving pace. Their scintillating reporting actually places the reader inside the president’s car with Jackie, when terror arrives and bullets strike. It is simply heart wrenching. Meanwhile, Americans watched the horror on national TV, Camelot crumpling and dying before their very eyes.

Killing Kennedy also includes the aftermath: Jackie’s grace-filled handling of an unthinkable situation and her efforts to insure JFK’s lasting legacy, including his extraordinary list of accomplishments as President. It later became known that JFK’s preferred bedtime listening was the musical cast recording of Camelot. His favorite lines were spoken in the final number: “Don’t let it be forgot. That once there was a spot, For one brief shining moment … That was known as Camelot.”

Only rarely have I met or known an enthusiast of American history, certainly not back in my school days. So then, how to explain the enduring popularity of Killing Lincoln by Bill O'Reilly and Martin Dugard, which has ensconced itself on The New York Times Best-seller List for a formidable thirty-six weeks as of this writing. Most people know Bill O'Reilly as the popular host of "The O'Reilly Factor" on the Fox News Channel. Yet few people are aware that O'Reilly was a history teacher before he entered the world of broadcast journalism. But love him or hate him, O'Reilly (and Dugard) serve up a riveting four-act tragedy as compelling as any suspense novel of recent memory.

We enter the story a mere fourteen days before the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. The Confederate Army, under the command of Lee, is on wobbly last-legs; out of food and supplies, their uniforms and shoes in tatters, men (and horses) are falling or deserting daily as Lee leads them in an incessant, punishing march south toward the Carolinas, desperately attempting to save his soldiers' lives. Each step of the way, they are relentlessly pursued and pounded by Grant's larger and well-equipped army, forcing the Confederates to turn and fight yet again, refusing to accept what is inevitable. It is a heartbreaking first act, viewed from a boots-on-the-ground perspective. Meanwhile, Lincoln is desperate for the four-year war to end, so that the true healing of our divided nation can begin.

Lincoln hardly sleeps, his eyes are hollowed, he suffers bouts of depression, and he has lost thirty-five pounds from worry and dismay over this country he loves so dearly, and whose needless death of Americans on both sides tears him apart. Meanwhile, Confederate loyalists and spies conspire to kill Lincoln, so infuriated are they over his freeing of the slaves and the resultant changes to their beloved South. Lincoln is well aware his life is in mortal danger. His only solace is found in his love of Shakespeare, the simple and loyal dedication of his wife, Mary, and a few verses of daily reading from his tattered Bible.

Enter John Wilkes Booth, a flashy, good-looking bon vivant and actor, who is determined to kill Lincoln on behalf of the South, with the promise of his own egocentric immortality at stake. We discover the wheres and hows of Booth's recruitment and funding, the exquisite detailing of his fiendish plan, including a theatrical flair Booth will add to the finale, and his planned escape to Mexico, all in staggering detail. O'Reilly's telling of the final day is masterful, giving us an hour-by-hour interplay of the two main characters hurling toward their destiny. The narrative is swift and fully engrossing.

While O'Reilly's book is strictly nonpolitical, I find myself now pondering the differences between Lincoln, one of America's greatest Presidents, and today's political leaders.

Check out an excerpt of Killing Lincoln.