The Kennedy Assassination
A few days ago, I read that over 200 books have been written on the assassination of John F. Kennedy. That number strikes me as low, but JFK assassination research has become a growth industry.
I’ve read a number of books on the assassination, including Vincent Bugliosi’s 1600-page tome. I’ve begun to wonder – what if they are all right. Think about it …
So, as JFK’s limousine turned onto Elm Street toward the Triple Underpass, it entered one of the most armed areas, outside of a war zone, in the world. There may have been more people packing heat in DealeyPlaza than not.
If we study the JFK assassination literature, we know the following. In the School Book Depository, on the 6th floor, Lee Harvey Oswald had prepared a sniper’s nest of boxes near the corner window and waited there with his $12.00 Mannlicher-Carcano rifle. Interestingly, according to some
sources, a shadowy individual known only as “Manuel” also waited at that corner window on the 6th floor. Perhaps he and Oswald chatted or played cards as they waited for the motorcade. Maybe they noticed their rifles, and each wondered what the other was up to.
One window down from Oswald and Manuel, Mac Wallace waited with his rifle. Was he aware of the other two; were they aware of him? Oddly, one more window down sat Loy Factor; he planned to shoot JFK but lost his nerve at the last minute. [Perhaps, the number of people on the 6th floor and
the sudden cocking of the rifles disconcerted him.]
So, as the motorcade moved past the School Book Depository, four men aimed their rifles at the back of the President’s head. Oswald and Manuel probably jockeyed for position. The prickly Oswald quite possibly became irritated with Manuel and carped at him. Loy Factor lost his nerve. No one seems to be
quite sure what Mac Wallace did.
Meanwhile on the grassy knoll, E. Howard Hunt, even as Watergate percolated in the back of his mind, began to pass out tickets to assassins who wanted to shoot from the high ground in front of the President’s limousine. Richard Nixon had stopped by earlier to instruct his henchman. “I met with H. H.,”
said Nixon cryptically. “Now I have to catch a plane to prove that I am not a crook.” Hunt had nodded gravely, though, in fact, he had no notion of what Nixon meant. “Would it be possible for a politician to make less sense?” he wondered. At that moment he thought he saw young George W. Bush walk by
across the street.
The ticket procedure was beginning to get to Hunt. Everyone of the riflemen wanted to be first in line. Lucien Sarti, the “badge man,” kept blending in with the foliage on the far right of the little hill. Hunt sent his assistant Gordon over to tell Sarti once again, “I know where you are, and you have to have a ticket if you want to shoot.”
Roscoe White and his two CIA buddies had picked up their tickets and were smoking cigarettes and talking about old times in Saigon. “Why can’t everybody be professional,” Hunt wondered.
To Hunt’s left, the other two “tramps,” Charles Rogers and Charles Harrelson were cleaning their rifles. One idiot near by, Jim Files, had a twenty-two single shot with one short cartridge. “Really now,” said Harrelson. Files looked down, ashamed.
Harrelson and Rogers both took their places in line along the fence. Harrelson noted Lucien Sarti in the foliage, but before he could wave, Sarti had blended back into the bush.
Then trouble began to brew. Chauncey Holt, Frank Sturgis and a man called Frenchy arrived to pick up their tickets, announcing that they were “the three tramps.” Harrelson and Rogers immediately called out to Hunt and the six men got into a scuffle over just which three were the “tramps.” Eventually all of them lined up along the now very crowded fence.
As everyone waited for the motorcade to come into view, a man who said his name was “Junior” rushed up, demanding a ticket. He was closely followed by Robert Perrin who was extremely pale. Hunt gave the two men a disgusted look. “Why couldn’t you boys be on time?” he asked.
Junior fidgeted and pretended not to hear the question. Perrin, however, answered, “Well, I had problems. You see, I died two years ago.”
Hunt became more sympathetic, “Okay, in that case, here’s your ticket; see if you can find a place. As Hunt was diverted by Perrin, Junior sneaked into line.
While Hunt tried to control the chaos developing on the grassy knoll, other gunmen were taking up positions elsewhere. A man called “Saul” found a window on the second floor of the County Records Building. Also, possibly in that same building were two friends of Lucien Sarti, the foliage-resembling “Badge Man.” These two, Sauveur Pironti and Roger Bocognoni may also have been in the County Records Building. Or perhaps, they were in the Dal-Tex Building. Like the County Records Building, the Dal-Tex Building was behind the motorcade as it turned onto Elm Street in front of the School Book Depository. Mafia hit man, Charles Nicoletti had found a perch in a second floor window in this building. He probably was unaware of other assassins on separate floors. Sam Giancana had four other Mafioso in unnamed locations along with three others who had driven down from
Milwaukee. Besides these, there are many other assassins who were located around Dealey Plaza; it is very difficult to include all who have been proven to have been there. David Ferrie was there doing something or other. Patrolman J. D. Tippett was also up to something suspicious. Fidel Castro had some Cubans in the area. And Jack Ruby was driving around being mysterious in a green Ford. Ruby was also seen running to and from the School book Depository just after the assassination.
As Kennedy’s limousine rolled past the School Book Depository, over thirty individuals (maybe many more) opened fire. One would think that the sound of the gunfire would have been overwhelming and that many bystanders would have been wounded or even killed. But somehow (and I suspect E. Howard Hunt had a hand in this) the shootings were synchronized so that even sophisticated acoustic equipment picked up the sound of only three shots. It is amazing what determined conspirators can do.
But, besides the shooters already mentioned, three other assassins were at work as Kennedy came by. The famous “umbrella man”, Louis Steven Witt, opened and closed his umbrella, firing a small, poisoned flechette or dart into Kennedy's neck. This dart was the real cause of the President’s death.
Then, as the firing started, and the Secret Service men reacted, one of them, George Hickey, in a car behind Kennedy accidentally discharged his gun, hitting the President in the back of the head. This shot was the real cause of Kennedy’s death. At about the same time, as all eyes looked to the School Book Depository or the grassy knoll, the driver of Kennedy’s limousine, William Greer, turned around to the back seat and shot the President in such a way that neither the Connally’s nor Jackie Kennedy, nor Secret Service agent Clint Hill (assigned to the President) noticed. Greer’s shot was perhaps the most amazing feat of the day. It was the real cause of Kennedy’s death.
Anyway, all of these people shot Kennedy. It has been proven in various books. Of course, today, we have received word that researcher, Professor Peter Plum, has developed a new theory that rogue CIA agent Colonel Michael Mustard killed Kennedy with a wrench in the conservatory. Details will follow.