JFK Assassination Tour

A private JFK assassination tour was something I dug up on the internet. Our guide, Robin Brown, met us at 10 a.m. in Dealey Plaza next to the Book Depository.

We had two choices of transportation, either Robin’s large air-conditioned SUV or a 1961 Lincoln Continental convertible replica of the car JFK and Jackie had been in on that fateful day.

Dallas in August? It didn’t take long to decide against the convertible. I’m sun adverse.  I even purchased a white umbrella to shade me in both Waco and Dallas.

We dropped Bronson off at The Happy Hound, then grabbed a quick breakfast near Dealey Plaza.

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The Happy Hound build out was pretty jazzy.  Note the dog bone ceiling and hand painted view of the sea.

Robin was waiting when we arrived a couple of minutes after ten. He ushered us to two shaded park benches and asked us what our interest in the assassination was. Neither of us is intensely fascinated, but like all Americans alive in 1963 we remember it vividly.

Robin then told us a bit about himself. He was nine when Kennedy died. At nineteen he saw the Burt Lancaster movie Executive Action, and his interest in conspiracy theories ignited.

Robin and I were seated side by side on one bench, Jim across from us on the other. Robin stated, “Lee Harvey Oswald did not kill Kennedy.” I glanced at Jim and saw an incredulous look cross his face. The same look he gave me when I hired a pet psychic and suggested a ghost tour.

I gulped, thinking, “It’s gonna’ be a long three hours.” I’d paid nearly 300 dollars for the excursion, and clearly, Jim wasn’t happy about the arrangement.

We sat on those benches for two hours while Robin explained the dynamics of the conspiracy. Jimmy’s ass isn’t as padded as mine. I could see him getting restless. Finally, Jim suggested we move.

Robin led us to his large van, turned on the A/C and continued the lecture. After another hour he suggested we walk to Dealey Plaza, while he pointed out certain places like the two X’s on the road where the first and second shots hit Kennedy. He had us study the sixth-floor window of the Book Depository from the vantage point of the first “X.”

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Note the picket fence on the left of the diagram, as well as where Zapruder was standing on a plinth while filming the motorcade.

From that point, looking back, it seemed unlikely the shooter could have seen the motorcade through a large live oak tree growing between the Book Depository and the place JFK was shot. The Warren Commission stated that tree would have been bare in November. But in Texas, live oaks drop their leaves in early spring.  That sixth-floor window was behind Kennedy.

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The Warren Commission stated Kennedy’s murder happened when he was shot in the back of the head. The Zapruder films show Kennedy reacting to the first shot by grabbing himself on the throat. The second shot blew out the back of his head, so must have hit him in the forehead. His skull and brains are what Jackie, in shock, climbed onto the rear of the limo to retrieve.

Later, a doctor who had worked on Kennedy stated in an early interview outside Parkland Hospital,  the neck wound was an entry wound.

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Further, eyewitnesses put Oswald on the second floor of the book depository moments before the shooting. How could he have galloped upstairs, aimed, pulled off three shots in seconds?

Then there was the “magic bullet.” That is some convoluted tale about one bullet smashing through Kennedy, then hitting Connelly.

Two factors transform the single–bullet theory into the magic bullet theory:
The necessity for the slug to have changed direction twice: on entering President Kennedy’s back, to come out of his throat, and again on exiting his throat to hit Governor Connally close to his right armpit. The “magic bullet” theory asks us to believe the same unlikely trajectory.

Connally, for the rest of his life, questioned the single bullet theory. In 1966, he told the press, “I am convinced beyond any doubt that I was not struck by the first bullet,” and added, “but just because I disagree with the Warren Commission on this one finding does not mean I disagree with their overall findings.”

The ten-month investigation by the Warren Commission of 1963–64 concluded that President Kennedy’s murderer was 24-year-old ex-Marine Lee Harvey Oswald and that Oswald had acted entirely alone.

Many witnesses that day heard shots coming from behind the grassy knoll, which was bordered by a picket fence. Further many witnesses heard lots of shots, not just three.

Who might have profited from Kennedy’s death?  Several people.  J Edgar Hoover and Andrew Dulles loathed Kennedy. Hoover was due for mandatory retirement at age 70. He asked Kennedy to waive the ruling. Kennedy wouldn’t.  Meanwhile, Dulles, CIA head, had been fired by Kennedy. He too had an ax to grind.

Upon becoming President, Johnson waived Hoover’s retirement age.  Hoover was still in office upon his death in 1972.  Further, Johnson appointed Dulles as one of seven commissioners of the Warren Commission to investigate the assassination of the U.S. President John F. Kennedy.

The appointment was criticized by some historians, who have noted that because Kennedy had fired him, and Dulles was, therefore, unlikely to be impartial in passing judgment. In the view of journalist and author Stephen Kinzer, Johnson appointed Dulles primarily so that Dulles could “coach” the Commission on how to interview CIA witnesses.

Also, Kennedy had signed executive order to begin pulling troops out of Viet Nam. Big money wanted the war to escalate. With Kennedy out-of-the-way and corrupt Johnson in office, escalation would be likely.

The most damning evidence of a cover-up to truth remains the Zapruder film. Buried until Robert Groden brought it to light.

Groden is the first independent individual to get his hands on a copy of the famous Zapruder film documenting the moment when a bullet entered the president’s head. Groden has spent almost a half century producing books, pamphlets, and videos arguing Kennedy was killed by more than one shooter.

He goes to Dealey Plaza every fair weather weekend and works from a table by a banner that says, “Grassy Knoll.” He and his assistant are always a hit, drawing big crowds from among the tourists who throng the plaza most weekends.  He happened to be there on the day of our tour.

Robert Groden

Some of his books have been bestsellers. He has consulted on movies and documentaries including Oliver Stone’s 1991 movie, JFK. In 1976 he was the chief photo-optics consultant to the U.S. House Select Committee on Assassinations, whose findings included the suggestion that more than one assassin probably was involved in the killing of Kennedy.

The tour that was to last three hours went on for six. There was no charge for the extra three hours, and Robin declined a tip. He truly is dedicated to bringing the truth to light.

At the end of our tour, we were both convinced Oswald, if involved, was not the only person in on the assassination.  And best of all, Jim had dropped the “Holy Smokes, my nutty wife has gotten us into yet another weird situation” attitude.  Yay, me!

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The rooming house Oswald lived in at the time of JFK’s murder.

 

 

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The theater where Oswald was arrested.

 

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Another puzzling fact is that only Clint Hill, Jackie’s security detail, made a move.  Not one other secret service man lifted a finger. Odd.

If you want to do a bit of research check out The three hobos, and the two Oswalds.  

Fascinating stuff.

 

 

Dallas

Today we had fascinating private JFK assassination tour. So much to tell. We learned that the public wasn’t privy to many facts about that heartbreaking day.  But I’m too tired to fill in the details. Maybe tomorrow.

Two hours before the tour started, we had excitement.  I was attempting to shut off the water when this happened.  And no, I wasn’t able to save the day by putting my finger in the dike.

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We were told we’d get a different room at the end of the day.  We piled all our stuff into Gracie, the marvelous mini-van, and waved goodbye to Robert, the soaked to the skin maintenance man.  We dropped Bronson off at The Pet Resort and raced to meet our tour guide.

While sitting in our suitcase, in the 100-degree heat, my hormone replacement therapy meds, used to living in air-conditioning, melted down into a lump of paraffin.

Who knows what kind of hot flashing freaking out menopausal monster I’ll turn into within the next few days?  Poor Jim.

My family doctor is off until Monday.  But, YAY, my brother-in-law is a doctor.

Eek!?!  I just remembered, he retired a couple of weeks ago. Can he still prescribe?  OMG.  Oh well…Too late to fret about it now.  Time to crawl into the feathers.  First I’ll crank the temperature down to arctic levels.  Take that, Hot Flashes!