Murder Tales: The JFK Conspiracies Page 4
J. D. was posted to the Oak Cliff sub-station; an area that would be his beat for the next eleven years. 'Officer Tippit' became well known and liked in the area, his clean cut honesty and integrity; and even heroics, began to make such an impression on the local youths; that J. D. inspired several of them to follow him into the police force, and indeed inspired a little hero-worship in their youthful imaginations, 'of all of the officers....I wanted to be like him', local youth and Tippit inspired police cadet Murray J. Jackson lamented after J. D.'s brutal murder.
As a bobby on the beat J. D. showed the valour he had displayed in his military career, on Thursday the 26th of April 1956, J. D. was stabbed in the stomach and knee with an ice pick by a man called Robert Shaver, when J .D. had attempted to resolve a domestic dispute. The ice pick shattered in J. D.'s leg; causing part of the kneecap to be removed and switched with a metal replacement. Just four months after returning to duty, on Sunday the 2nd of September 1956, J. D. was given a commendation for his bravery again. He asked a man whose face he had recognised from a wanted poster to accompany him for a chat outside of a Dallas drinking den called Bar-80. The man agreed, but as he rose from his seat, the suspect pulled a gun and pulled the trigger, luckily the gun miss-fired. As a result of his near fatal experience J. D. received a Meretricious Service Award and a commendation for 'outstanding judgement and quick thinking'. Just like his wartime medals, the plaudits sat uneasily with J. D. and is sensibilities, he was as far as he was concerned just a beat cop doing his job. With the plaudits and commendations J. D. was naturally asked to take his detective exams to advance up the ranks, but J. D. wasn't interested, he told his superiors that promotion didn't interest him, he enjoyed being a beat cop, he loved the community he served, and they loved him, he was happy staying where he was.
At home the family was growing; J. D. and Marie now had a daughter called Brenda Kay and another son called Curtis Glen. To make ends meet with his growing brood; Tippit began to moonlight off shift as a private security operative at Austin's Barbeque, a popular restaurant in Oak Cliff. Austin’s was popular with teenagers from a variety of local schools, some of whom didn't get on, and who would often get drunk after football games, they then had a predilection for enjoying what they euphemistically called 'a rumble', and so the owners of Austin’s felt it would be prudent to hire security; rather than have their establishment smashed up every weekend. From this job J. D. managed to obtain another extra pay-packet by taking on the role of security guard at the Steven's Park Theatre.
When interviewed, after his death, and asked how they wanted J. D. remembered the words honest, hard working and a practical joker were all mentioned. All remembered him as a loving husband, father, and above all a good cop.
An Evitable Circumstance: The Event
‘I don’t know that any political figure in this country can be spared an assassin’s bullet if indeed there is a dedicated assassin. So I would hope that the American people would understand that the mere fact that the Secret Service failed was not a failure of desire, not a failure of dedication, not a failure of talent, but rather a failure of an evitable circumstance’ – Governor John Connally
The following events are reconstructed from the memoirs of those people who were involved in the traumatic events of those terrible days in November 1963. They are substantiated were possible by the official reports and memos which have since been declassified and unearthed by the dogged researchers who have shined light onto the darkness of this haunting case. Memory is a fluid and malleable thing; as a result contradictions have arisen in the narrative of the case over the past half century. Where this has occurred I have attempted to use the source material which is seen as the most reliable, and have attempted to verify disputed facts by cross referencing between the differing accounts and supporting documentation.
Friday the 22nd of November 1963, Police Sergeant J. D. Tippit sat in his kitchen with his wife, Marie, eating the breakfast she had prepared for him; before he set off for work at the Oak Cliff Sub-Police Station. The years of their marriage had not faded Tippit’s love for his wife, after being stabbed in the knee during an arrest some years before, he had been told to ‘go dancing’ by his physiotherapist; to aid the healing process. Since that day the Tippit’s had regularly been found engaging in this ‘therapy’, their favourite time of the evening had been the last dance, the slow smooching number, which led to more intimate moments of healing when they returned home. That morning Tippit eat his eggs as he read the newspaper, an angry editorial filled the first few pages, a disgruntled piece about President Kennedy’s visit to Dallas that day. Tippit folded the paper, rose from the table and said goodbye to his kids, Charles, Brenda and Curtis, before kissing his wife goodbye at the door; and leaving for work. It was 6.15 a.m. Tippit had no notion of how monumental that day’s events would be, how they would literally shape the history of the latter 20th century. If he had known the tragic part he would play in these momentous events, then perhaps, just perhaps; he would have closed the door and phoned in sick. As it was he didn’t have godly powers of precognition, and so with a kiss; he left his family and set off for work for the last time.
At 7.00 a.m. a light drizzle fell on Forth Worth, Texas, as Presidential Valet, George Thomas, gently awoke President John Fitzgerald Kennedy. The President arose from his bed and contemplated the breakfast speech he was about to give to the Fort Worth Chamber of Commerce, in the ballroom of the Hotel Texas. He looked out of the window of suite 805, and his eyes fell upon the large crowd of cheering individuals; who had gathered around the hotel. They had come out to see him, despite the miserable weather, many waiting throughout the night for a President who was said to be loathed in the southern states for his liberal attitudes on civil rights; and his high taxation on oil prices. Kennedy felt he owed something to those people who had waited whilst he had been soundly sleeping, and so against the advice of his Secret Service protectors; he decided that after showering and dressing he would go out and thank them in person.
At 7:10 a.m. back in Dallas, Russian immigrant, Marina Oswald awoke her husband, Lee Harvey Oswald, from his sleep. Oswald had spent the night away from his bedsit, and had stayed with his estranged wife, who currently lived with her friend and confidant Ruth Paine. Oswald hadn’t slept well the previous evening; he had restlessly tossed and turned, tormented for some reason. Now he swore as Marina woke him and he realised that he was running late for his work at the Texas School Book Depository, in Dealey Plaza. He didn’t bother to shower, simply pulling on his clothes in a mindless rush. As he dressed he slipped off his wedding ring, and deliberately left his wallet on the bedside cabinet. As Oswald left the house at 7.15 a.m. he didn’t show any sign of affection to his wife, he simply quietly picked up a package which he had hidden away, a long brown paper parcel which he slipped awkwardly under his arm. Oswald then ran down to a neighbour’s house, one Buell Frazier, who also worked with Oswald at the Texas School Book Depository, hoping that he was not too late to catch a lift. Frazier’s sister, Linnie Mae Randle, observed Oswald placing his package onto the backseat of Frazier’s car. At 7.23 a.m. after finishing his breakfast Frazier began the drive to the Texas School Book Depository. The drive was conducted in relative silence, Oswald was brooding; an activity his co-workers found he did a lot. Frazier attempted to start a conversation; by asking Oswald what was in the package Oswald was taking to work, Oswald had replied sullenly, ‘Curtain rods’. At 7.55 a.m. they arrived at a building that would become infamously intertwined with the day’s momentous events, the Texas School Book Depository.
By 8.01 a.m. Officer J. D. Tippit had arrived at work and was already sat in his usual vehicle, patrol car number 10. He started the engine of his vehicle; and pulled out of the parking lot of the station; to patrol his assigned route, beat number 78, South Oak Cliff.
At 8:40 a.m. President Kennedy emerged into the misty parking lot of the Hotel Texas, flanked by Congressman Jim Wright and Vice-President Lyndon Baines
Johnson. The crowd cheered, the waiting public had expected to catch just a fleeting glimpse of the President as he walked across the parking lot to his limousine, not for the man himself to walk up to them, to start shaking hands with them, to start talking to them. This put the Secret Service on edge, they weren’t on their best form that rain soaked morning, against the rules they had spent the majority of the previous evening getting drunk in a bar called the ‘Cellar Door’, and picking up strippers. The lucky ones had got at most one or two hours sleep. Now they were tired and hung-over, or worst in some cases even still drunk. President Kennedy was not making life easy for them this morning by breaking the cardinal rule they had attempted to teach him over his years in office, never go into a crowd. Crowds were hard for them to police. It was etiquette that people approached the President with their hands visible; to show they were unarmed, this rule went out of the window in a crowd. People were touching and pulling and hugging the President, hands moving in a blur of movement. Hands the Secret Service hoped would not be carrying a weapon. A podium was hastily erected; and Lyndon Johnson formally introduced the President as he emerged from the unbelieving and elated gaggle of well-wishers. It was the sort of reaction and elation usually reserved for a rock-star, not an elective representative of the people. Yet President Kennedy had this almost messiah like quality that made even his harshest of critics almost fall in love with him when they met him in the flesh. It was a quality that had allowed him to secretly bed one of the most desirable women in the history of the world, the recently deceased Marilyn Monroe. Kennedy gave a short speech that was hardly audible over the screams and shouts of adulation. He thanked the faithful, he thanked their hospitality, he left them feeling special and proud. After soaking up their adoration, the President moved purposefully back into the Hotel Texas, and changing his now damp jacket on the way; he made his way to the Crystal Ballroom; where he was due to give another speech for the Texas Chamber of Commerce, this time in front of two thousand eager party donors.
At 9.10 a.m. President Kennedy entered the Crystal Ballroom of the hotel. The school band of local Eastern Hill High School had been picked to play ‘Hail To The Chief’ as the President entered the room, in the event their music was drowned out by the rapturous applause; and the chanting of his name the President received as he entered the ballroom and approached the stage. President Kennedy then stood silently on the stage and waited for the cheering to die down, as the band played on, the President made sure that the school boys got their special little moment on what was an auspicious day for them. As the President sat down to eat some light breakfast, two five minute boiled eggs, toast with marmalade, coffee and orange juice, the Texas Boys Choir sang the haunting lament, ‘The Eyes Of Texas’, Jackie Kennedy had been held up, and so the ballroom exploded into even more applause as she entered and made her way through the room to sit next to her husband. Then after much appreciation for the First-Lady, the President stood at the podium and began his speech. In his speech he spoke about how Texas’s economy was largely dependent on the defence industry, dependant to the tune of 1.4 billion dollars, he commented that ‘There are more military personal on active duty in this state than in any in the nation, save one’. It was ironic that President Kennedy should mention this; given that his administration strove so desperately for peace, taking steps to pull out of Vietnam before America became too embroiled in the deepening crisis there, secretly sending out the hand of peace to Premier Khrushchev of the Soviet Union via Pope John the XXIII, and pledging that the Central Intelligence Agency, which Kennedy saw as having become too powerful and too dangerous, be scrapped by the end of his Presidency. Was Kennedy then being ironic as he spoke of Texas’ dependency on the mighty defence industry? As he lauded the legalised warmongers and death dealers who lobbied and cajoled and attempted to turn his Presidency away from the path of peace he had chosen? The President finished his speech once again by bringing it all back to his hopes for a brighter future. ‘As I look to the future I am confident that our chances for security, our chance for peace are better than they have been in the past. The reason is because we are stronger, and with that strength is a determination, a determination not only to maintain the peace, but to protect the vital interests of the United States’. The room erupted into applause. Kennedy sat, and for a telling moment the real man emerged, not the showman or politician, but the real man underneath, fumbling his way day to day through a dangerous world on the brink of mutually assured destruction, he nervously bit at the nail of his thumb for a moment, before realising his mistake and placing his hand under the table. President Kennedy was then presented with a ten gallon hat to ‘afford him some protection’. When the crowd began to call for the President to put the hat on, he smiled winsomely and quipped, ‘I’ll put it on in the Whitehouse on Monday, if you come on up you’ll catch me wearing it then’. The room burst into laughter and warm applause. What was said to Jackie Kennedy moments later, as she was presented with her present, was quite prophetic of what was to come later that day, ‘as you ride with the hounds and walk through the rattlesnakes we want you to have protection too’, before a large box containing a set of cowboy spurs was placed in her hands.
At 9.30 a.m. President Kennedy left the Crystal Ballroom; and prepared to leave the Hotel Texas and Fort Worth. He and Jackie went back up to room 805, where the President made a phone call to Ruth Carter Johnson, the lady who had arranged for the Presidential suite to be filled with fine art and sumptuous sculptures loaned for the duration of his stay. The President was then briefed on what lay ahead in the day’s schedule, his flight to Dallas, the motorcade, and his talk at the Dallas Trade Mart. Presidential Aid, Marty Underwood, discreetly advised the President to call off the remainder of the tour; as he had received several reports that President Kennedy was going to be assassinated in Dallas. These reports had started to come in some seventeen hours before from various reliable sources Underwood had in both the CIA and the FBI. President Kennedy simply laughed Underwood’s concerns off and said, ‘Marty, you worry about me too much’. The President then had a meeting with Texan Governor John Connally. Although a Democrat, Connally had never liked President Kennedy. During President Kennedy’s nomination campaign, Connally had been Secretary of State for the Navy, and he had deliberately endorsed Lyndon B. Johnson for the Democratic Presidential nomination. Connally had further been responsible for a smear campaign against Kennedy, claiming that he was a drug addict, addicted to the painkiller cortisone, and that he would be unable to see out a full term as President because he was secretly dying of Addison’s disease. Well, despite Governor Connally’s best efforts; Kennedy had become President, but Connally felt that the Kennedy brand had become particularly toxic in Texas, and he was loath to be associated with that toxin, and he had used several excuses to postpone the Presidential Texan tour already. Now the President and Connally had to sit and exchange pleasantries, and pretend all was forgiven, each playing the game of politics adeptly. After his meeting with Connally, President Kennedy quickly perused a local newspaper, The Dallas Morning News, where he found an article which sarcastically welcomed him to Dallas, and asked why he was following the ‘spirit of Moscow’. President Kennedy laughed at the article; and commented wryly, ‘we’re heading into nut country today’.
At 10.40 a.m. President Kennedy and the First Lady were led down the stairway of the hotel to an open top limousine. The rain and mist had subsided and now a glorious sunshine had come out to accompany the motorcade on its hour long journey along Main Street, crowds lined the streets cheering triumphantly for the President, and tic-a-tape poured down from the open upper windows of the surrounding buildings. The President smiled and waved jubilantly at receiving such a warm welcome when all around him had told him that he had been hated in Texas and would only be greeted by jeers and boos. At 11.10 a.m. the motorcade reached Carswell Air Force Base, President Kennedy using his common touch again shook the hands of every single police officer who lined his route f
rom the motorcade to Air Force One. He climbed the steps to the jet, as he turned to wave at the crowd that had gathered for him, the blazing glorious sun forced him to squint as he waved his goodbyes. The flight to Dallas would be short, it would only take twenty minutes to ferry the President to the city where he was to die.
11.39 a.m. Air Force One touched down at Love Field in Dallas. As the doors to the Boeing 707 opened; the President was greeted by a ‘tremendous roar’ from the crowd that gave Mrs Connally gooseflesh. President Kennedy and Jackie were thrilled. Kennedy immediately made his way over to the well-wishers and started shaking hands; as Jackie was given a gift of flowers from her admirers, a bouquet of blood red roses. After fifteen minutes of good public relations with the crowd; the President finally got into the 1961 Lincoln Continental. This Presidential limousine had been fitted with a plastic bubble roof to protect the President, but President Kennedy made the decision to remove the plastic roof so that the crowd could get a good look at The First Lady, ‘the people love her, and I’m going to keep it down’, President Kennedy had told his advisor Kenny O’Donnell. O’Donnell, Governor Connally and Jackie Kennedy all had sore misgivings about removing the ‘bubble’ roof, but the President’s word was final. The bubble-top was not bullet proof, but it was believed that the glare from the sun reflecting on the plastic would have made aiming at the car’s occupants harder, and it may have slowed down any bullets, perhaps to a point where the unfortunate victim might have survived any shots fired. Perhaps President Kennedy felt safe enough because he was surrounded by a seemingly robust security detail, in the motorcade was the Dallas Chief of Police, Jess Curry; and the Dallas County Sherriff, Bill Decker. The motorcade was flanked by four police motorcycles ridden by Officers Billy Joe Martin, Bobby Hargis, James M. Chaney and Douglas L. Jackson. These four officers had been told in no uncertain terms by the Secret Service not to overtake the Presidential limousine, no matter what was to happen. Normally two bikers would have flanked the front of the car, two would ride alongside the car, and a further two would follow in the rear, but the Secret Service instructed the Dallas Police to drop the two motorcycles that would normally ride alongside the President’s vehicle, and for the remaining four to stay behind the limo, so that the public could get an ‘unrestricted view’ of the President. On top of the motorcycle police; there was the usual plethora of Secret Service Officers who were, unbeknown to President Kennedy, all still hung-over and tired from the previous nights revelries. The motorcade although initially on a schedule, was held up twice; when President Kennedy asked for the Lincoln Continental to be stopped so that he could shake hands with cheering members of the public. He hoped that he’d made that morning that little bit more special for a group of nuns and some school children by singling them out for his personal undivided attention. President Kennedy had been due to start delivering a speech at the Dallas Trade Mart at 12.15 p.m. but due to the delay in starting the motorcade at the airport; and the unscheduled stops to greet the crowd, the motorcade was ultimately running twenty minutes behind schedule.