Not to be outdone by the oil rich oligarchy of Dallas, the leaders of Fort Worth spared no expense. The art on the walls of the suite the president and his wife would occupy were paintings by Franz Kline, Monet, Van Gogh; sculptures by Henry Moore and Picasso26 and other masterworks borrowed from private owners specifically for the executive couple in order to make their short visit a comfortable and aesthetically pleasing one. The leaders of Fort Worth had even put together a little studio type room especially for the First Lady.
A few days before the presidential couple’s arrival in Fort Worth, a description of the presidential suite at the Hotel Texas had been released to the public. Some of the city’s art lovers had not been happy with their accommodations: they felt the rooms too ‘gauche’ for such an elegant couple. Owen Day, the art critic for the Fort Worth Press suggested to some of the more prominent art collectors and leaders of Fort Worth that they install a miniature museum for the President and First Lady.27 With the support of Ruth Carter Johnson, Ted Weiner, Samuel Benton Cantey III, and Mitchell Wilder, a three-part private exhibition was installed in the parlor and bedrooms, each room of the suite outfitted with works of art that befitted such an elegant couple. In the parlor were works by Monet, Lyonel Feininger and Kline. Two sculptures, one by Picasso entitled “Angry Owl” and the other by Henry Moore entitled “Three Points” now seem eerily prophetic. Knowing the affinity Mrs. Kennedy had for impressionistic art, the master bedroom was adorned with a Prendergast painting, a Van Gogh, a watercolor by John Marin, and an oil painting by Raoul Dufy. President Kennedy’s room was designated the second bedroom and it featured American art by Thomas Eakins, Marsden Hartley, and Charles Russell among others.28
Room 805 at The Hotel Texas would unknowingly be the setting for John F. Kennedy and his lovely wife Jackie’s last night together as a couple. Cut crystal vases filled with the First Lady’s favorite flower, periwinkle iris29 and goblets sparkled on the table.
There were L&M cigarettes left surreptitiously for the First Lady because, though she smoked, she didn’t want the public to know, and Cuban Petit Upmann cigars (called Demi Tasse in the U.S.)30 for the president. They were surrounded by art, sculpture and the gilded elephant in the room that whispered, “You’re a traitor if you do anything to hurt our oil and military economy. Enjoy yourselves, then mosey on home.”
CHAPTER
THREE
TIMING IS EVERYTHING
“We’re heading into nut country today,”
John F. Kennedy reportedly said to Jackie after reading the Birch Treason Ad in the Dallas Morning News.31
The people were everywhere. Screaming, running and then hitting the ground like bombs were going off. He just kept squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. Then everything went shimmery red.
It was the dream again. The same one he had been having for a few weeks. What did it mean? Orville shivered and reached over to the window unit to turn it off. Though it was late November, he couldn’t sleep without cold air blowing on him so the window unit ran year round. He ran his palm over his face as he sat on the edge of the bed and listened. Yes, Ella was up; he could hear her in her bedroom. He opened his bedroom door and the smell of freshly brewed coffee made him smile.
“Ella,” he shouted, “want a cup of coffee?”
Ella appeared at her bedroom door wearing a long cream-colored silk robe. Her hair was in rollers, but she still looked beautiful.
“No Orville, I better not, you know how it affects me and there are no bathrooms on the bus,” she smiled. “Besides, I made it for you. I hope Elaine has the kids ready; we need to be leaving soon. I know downtown will be crowded and we need to get there early if we’re going to get a good view of him.” She pulled the curtains back and saw it was raining.
“Oh no! Not rain! The weather man said it was going to be a clear and sunny day today. You just can’t trust anyone anymore,” she said. “Now I’m going to have to take an umbrella and a rain hat for my hair. I wonder if Elaine has raincoats for the kids?” She reached for the phone ready to pepper her daughter-in-law with her worries and questions, but Orville ended the call before Ella had finished dialing.
“Ella, no need to get all riled up this early in the morning, you’re supposed to be having fun.” He ambled to the window and drew back the curtains again. “See that line of clouds? They’re moving towards the east. There’s bright sunshine behind them. It’s going to be an exciting day.” He kissed her on the cheek and patted her shoulder as he sat down to drink his coffee.
“What are you going to wear? Where’s your camera? What time are we supposed to meet you?” Ella volleyed him with more questions. She always did this when she was excited or nervous.
“I’m wearing my new dark blue suit I got from Turner Brothers with my dark blue fedora, the one with the black feather and my light blue shirt and black tie with the design in the middle. My camera is on my dresser in my bedroom and I’ll be meeting ya’ll at noon at the corner of Houston and Main. Any other questions?” He winked at his wife.
Ella always melted when her tall husband winked. He was such a handsome man, even at fifty-two years old.32 His eyes were green in the morning, but turned blue when he wore blue. He had the smile of a bad boy but the countenance of a gentleman: it was a deadly combination that few women could ignore and the single women of the neighborhood didn’t. They visited the Nix home often. There were plenty of female admirers at the Riverlakes Country Club as well. The visits never bothered Ella, why would they? Orville was her husband not theirs and neither of them believed in divorce, even if most of the women who brought him cakes and cookies had been married more than once and dressed in tight pencil pants and crop tops. She walked back into her bedroom to finish getting ready when the phone rang.
“I’ll get it, Ella,” Orville said, answering it before it could ring a second time.
“Hi, Paw-Paw.” The young voice of his pretty daughter-in-law Elaine made him smile. “Let Granny know I’ll be over in an hour to pick her up. We’ll take the bus from the Cedar Crest station.”
“Will do, Elaine, are the kids excited?”
“Yes they are bouncing off the walls. I’m not bringing Cindy and David, my friend Linda across the street is going to stay with them. It will just be me, Gayle and Granny.”
Orville frowned knowing how Ella would receive this news. She liked having all three of her grandchildren together.
“Gayle will be easy enough to handle, that’s a good idea. I’ll see you at the corner of Main and Houston at noon. Tell Gayle I’ve got a new letter for her to read. Drive carefully!”
He hung up the phone and walked into Ella’s bedroom to tell her of the change of plans. She was brushing out her auburn hair into Greta Garbo waves. She looked beautiful, and he told her so.
“Well,” Ella replied to the news, “I won’t have to chase after Gayle. She never runs anywhere.” She spritzed some L’air du Temps on her neck and began putting on her makeup. Orville lingered in her room taking in the sweet fragrance, and then left her to finish getting ready. He looked at the clock over the television.
“Ella, did you get the newspaper? I want to make sure the parade time hasn’t changed.”
“It’s on the table,” she said.
He felt his coffee cup and decided to warm it up as he thumbed through the Dallas Morning News. He hated this paper and since he worked at night, he hardly ever read it. He much preferred the Dallas Times Herald. There on the front page33 of the Dallas Morning News was a picture of the President, his wife Jacqueline and LBJ and Ladybird in San Antonio. That damned LBJ never missed a chance to get his hound dog face in the news. The headline read, “Storm of Political Controversy Swirls around Kennedy on Visit.”
“Ella,” Orville shouted. “Does controversy mean trouble?
“What?” Ella shouted in return. “Did you say anniversary?”
“No, C-O-N-T-R-O-V-E-R-S-Y” he spelled it out to her.
“Oh, controversy. Yes, that means troub
le. What are you reading about?” she asked.
“Just the newspaper,” he said.
For a split second his heart caught in his throat and he stopped reading. He shook his head and blamed the strange feeling that had just come over him on too much coffee. He lit a Lucky Strike and continued to read. There was a big article about the feud between Texas State Senator Ralph Yarbrough and the governor, John Connally. Orville hated politics, but loved the Democratic Party. He felt they cared about people like him, and this president, though young, seemed sincere. His son Orville Jr. was a die-hard Republican and couldn’t wait to vote for Barry Goldwater in 1964. Jr. said he wasn’t going to the parade because he had to work, but Orville guessed he wasn’t going because he didn’t much care for the current administration. His son felt the Kennedys were more ‘Hollywood’ than Washington, D.C. and cared more about arts and fashion than about taxes and recessions. It didn’t matter. Though he would have liked to have his son there at the parade today, at least he had his son’s wife and oldest daughter. Orville smiled at the thought. As he scanned the paper, he noticed in the right hand corner that Nixon was hinting Kennedy would drop LBJ in 1964.34 That should stir the political shit-pot even more, he thought. What with Connally, LBJ, and Ralph Yarbrough all wanting to be in charge, the conversations in the limos had to be volatile. He wondered if their wives would be bickering as well. He also wondered if Forrest’s job would be more dangerous than he thought. He slathered some molasses and butter on a piece of toast, wishing he had asked Ella to fry him up some bacon fat. He was hungry.
Reading on made him dislike the Dallas Morning News more. They made everything into a ‘Soap Opera’ like the ones Ella watched on her days off. He looked at the bottom left corner of the front page and saw a map of the parade route.35Wait, he thought, was Forrest right? This map wasn’t like the one he saw in the Times Herald yesterday, this map says the parade would stay on Main. The place they would watch the motorcade pass by should be perfect, though Forrest had said the parade would turn right on Houston St to Elm St.
The map in the paper showed the motorcade would stay on Main St. Well it’s too late to ask Forrest about it, I’ll just stand where he told me to stand, Orville thought to himself. As he thumbed through the pages he saw that Sanger-Harris was having a toy sale.
He made a mental note to tell Ella so that after the parade they could do a little Christmas shopping for the grandchildren. He skimmed over the myriad of articles talking about the crowds that had gathered to see the Kennedys in San Antonio and Houston and then worried that they should leave a little earlier to beat the crowds.
As he turned to the editorial pages, he saw a cartoon of JFK with a long rifle shooting at a deer with LBJ laughing and driving a roofless jeep.36 Texas was the deer and the title read, “BIG GAME.” He shook his head. “I guess these newspaper guys think all Texans hunt, and wear Stetson hats and boots,” he muttered to himself.
“What did you say, Orville? Quit mumbling to yourself! You better get dressed. Time’s a ‘wastin,” Ella scolded as she walked to the small dining table.
She picked up the paper as Orville trailed off to his bedroom to get ready. As he passed her he winked again. She smirked and moved away. She read the front page as he had, shaking her head at all the political drama. Why can’t grown men just act like grown men instead of bickering like little girls, she thought to herself. She never liked Lyndon Baines Johnson and she sure didn’t like Ralph Yarbrough. They didn’t like each other. They were the uppity types of Texans she knew from her younger days; the ones who thought because of their power, money and ‘Daddies’ they could do anything they wanted, especially with women. She had met her fair share of them. The smoke from Orville’s forgotten, still-lit Lucky Strike was burning her eyes, so she stubbed it out. Good grief, cigarettes were nasty smelling things!
As she thumbed through the paper, she paused on page thirteen to read the ad from Skillern’s Drug Store. Hershey bars were 2 for 33 cents. She should buy some for the next time the kids came over. Since there was nothing else of interest to buy, she turned the page. There on page fourteen was a huge full page ad welcoming the Kennedys to Dallas.37 She smiled as she read the headline of the ad, “Welcome Mr. Kennedy” in large black bold letters and in smaller letters, “To Dallas.” Well that’s nice, she thought, and it must have cost a lot of money.
She continued to read and though she didn’t know the meanings of the words “sophistry” and “pronouncements” she realized at once this was no welcome ad. This was a hateful ad. A cold chill ran through her as she continued reading and she pulled her robe into her body a little tighter.
The ad seemed to be about communists and the president’s brother Bobby and Fidel Castro in Cuba. She had heard from the women she worked with at Wyatt’s that Bobby was after the Mafia. She was happy about that, but sheltering Communists? That didn’t make sense. How could he be trying to stop the Mafia but allowing Communists to go free. Weren’t they pretty much the same? She didn’t understand politics, didn’t want to, and this ad was an example of why she didn’t like political subjects. She had never heard of the CIA and coups. What was a coup? Who was being bloodily exterminated? And this horrible ad made it sound like all the people of Dallas agreed with the “American Fact-Finding Committee” a committee she had never heard of. The ad was signed “Bernard Weissman, Chairman” and gave his address, well, a post office box in Dallas. She threw the paper down and wondered what the president and his wife would think if they saw this trash. The whole city and its citizens were trying to make the city and themselves look wonderful for the president’s visit and the paper runs an ad like this. Well, I always said newspapers were just Jezebels for money, she sighed to herself. They’ll print anything to make a dime. She picked the paper back up and threw it in the trash.
* * * * *
Sitting behind the over-sized desk in his office at the Dal-Tex Building, Abraham Zapruder was reading the same ad in horror. What is it with some of these Texan Americans? If they had come from his country, they would know how very lucky they were to live in a country as great as the United States. Now, here was some crazy club had put an ad in the Dallas Morning News degrading our president. The ad matched the weather: gloomy and foreboding. It was 8:30 in the morning and the parade was due to begin in less than four hours. Would the city of Dallas cancel it? Knowing that one-time milkman mayor Earle Cabell, Abraham rather doubted it. Then again, maybe he would. It was well known among the Dallas politicos he met at parties that the honorable Mayor of Dallas and his Texas friends H.L. Hunt, D. Harold Byrd, George Bush and Henry Wade were not Kennedy supporters. In fact, they were just the opposite. He sometimes thought they were nutty, but to be a good business man, you had to be creative and diplomatic. And being creative usually meant you were a little nutty. He rose from his desk and walked to the window. He frowned and quickly looked up at the Texas School Book Depository. He noticed that there were men with trucks and dollies and ladders. Well D. Harold’s finally renovating that building, Abraham thought to himself thinking of his friend D. Harold Byrd, who was now on an African Safari. Smart of him to do it while out of the country, that way he doesn’t have to deal with the headaches of renovation. I could have been on safari, but no, I don’t hunt, Abraham thought to himself. A vacation would be great though. Maybe it would keep me from having these horrible nightmares. Abraham, like Orville Nix, had been having nightmares for weeks. He would wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, sometimes with tears running down his face. He could never quite put it together though. His dreams were a fractal of horrible images and loud noises. His wife had said he was having them because he worked too much and was friends with the wrong people.
“I go to Mason meetings, I go to Dallas Council on World Affairs meetings, I go to parties, I do other things besides work,” he told her, and my friends are what brings business to my company. And my dear, puts new dresses in your closet!”
She just clucked her tongue
and walked away saying, “All these years Abe, and you still don’t listen to me.”
Just then, his secretary Lillian walked into his office with a cup of coffee. As if reading his mind Lillian said, “I’m sure the rain will stop before the parade Mr. Z., not to worry. Besides, you could watch it all from right here from your window.”
He looked up at her and smiled. He marveled at how women always did their best to make life easier for the men they cared about.
* * * * *
Across town, Forrest Sorrels was talking to his new friend Winston Lawson, a Secret Service agent from Washington D.C. assigned to the presidential detail, and tying up loose ends before picking up the other DC agents, Kinney and Hickey at the Sheraton Hotel on their way to Love Field. Lawson was in charge of numbering the cars in the motorcade and had been Forrest’s daily companion since November 12th.
“You know, Win, I’m still catching hell about this motorcade route, but with all the bickering between Connally and Moyers, damn, this route was the best I could come up with. Connally was determined to go to the Trade Mart and threatened to not even be in the parade if the motorcade ended at the Women’s Building in Fair Park. I told Gerald Behn if we took special precautions, the Trade Mart would work.” Sorrel’s friend Win Lawson nodded his head in agreement.38
*****
WINOS LIKED TO HANG
OUT THERE WHILE PAN-
HANDLING FOR THEIR NEXT
DRINK. INDUSTRIAL BLVD.
HAD POT HOLES AND
BROKEN PAVEMENT UP
AND DOWN THE BLOCKS
FROM DRUNKEN
ACCIDENTS, BAD WEATHER
AND NEGLECT. THIS
WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN A
PLACE FOR FAMILIES TO
TAKE THEIR CHILDREN TO
SEE THE PARADE.
The Missing JFK Assassination Film Page 4