This ain’t gonna be another “Where I was when JFK was assassinated story.” I promise you, although that is the way it’s going to start because some rather interesting things happened right out of the box. And there ain’t many times when a very little guy like me gets a chance to see what would become the hottest documents relating to the Kennedy assassination before any other person in Washington got to see them.
That’s right. Before LBJ and even RFK. And you, the readers, are going to have to pay attention because at the very end I’m going to have a question for you. In spite of all the jillions of investigations, and the millions of pages written about the
assassination, I’m going to put a slant on one little tiny angle of the puzzle that I don’t know that anyone has ever illuminated before.
The 22nd of January, 1963 began benignly enough. I hadn’t gotten home until 0100 of that morning and slept in while my two teen age daughters got off to their high school, and my wife, Mary Jane, to her job as Director of Guidance and Counseling at Cooper Junior High School, just down the hill from Hickory Hill, the residence of RFK
and his brood. I used to kid her, because the Kennedy’s dog sometimes followed children to school. Of course they weren’t RFK’s kids. Rich liberals don’t send their kids to public schools. RFK’s kids were enrolled elsewhere. But anyway on occasion Mary Jane would get stuck with the job of bringing the Kennedy’s dog home, with her
car, and on her gas money. On occasion she would even be invited in for a cup of tea, usually in the kitchen, but she did meet Ethel on one occasion. Rubbing elbows with the rich and famous yet….but….
I really don’t recall when I woke up that morning. It was and would be for another few hours, just another day. But my routine was to have breakfast and then apply myself to whatever project we had going around the house. I had to leave to get back on the job by 3:15 in the afternoon. Pretty weird hours, you say? Standing the 4 to 12 wasn’t the half of it………