Day 11: JFK, the grassy knoll, the Bates Motel & DRJ. — meeting up in Dallas

I had a really bad breakfast at the hotel Garland – small, poorly cooked and served in an anonymous quiet restaurant – I thought dinner served there last night was poor – breakfast was worse.

Outside it was wet and misty, also quite cold. On the drive into Dallas, about 20 minutes, the skyline of Dallas, which had been visible and impressive from about 20 miles out the evening before, had disappeared and I couldn’t see the downtown district until I was there.

Dallas in the mist — the Book Depository Building from where JFK was shot is the brownstone building on the right

It was reasonably easy to find the JFK Memorial Plaza and the Book Depository – in fact almost before I realised it, I was on the route that Kennedy’s car took as it approached the Book Depository – and then, as I was sitting at a traffic light looking for a car park sign The Book Depository was in front and to my left.
Having watched the film JFK the night before, I was familiar with the layout of the area and the various theories about who shot JFK, was there a second gunman behind the “grassy knoll” etc.
The car park is behind the grassy knoll – there was one there in 1963 also. From down on the road and the spot where the fatal shots hit JFK – the shot from the 6th floor window in the Book Depository was a really difficult one. The lone assassin theory is really hard to believe – to hit one man in a moving car from the distance and angle (2 out of 3 shots apparently hit) was either brilliant or a total fluke. The idea that a second gunman was on the grassy knoll is much more feasible. The spot where the fatal shot hit JFK is only about 50 yards from the grassy knoll fence and would have been perfect if a crossfire zone was being set up by two gunmen.

The sixth floor museum is well worth a visit, you actually get a sight down on to Dealey Plaza from the window next to the one where Oswald must have viewed the scene. The exhibit and audio tour is also very well done with background information and eye witness accounts etc.

I left my recollections in the books provided for the purpose. I explained that I was 8, watching a TV with the family when the programmes were interrupted. I didn’t realise the impact until the next afternoon when Dad took me to my first rugby match – Cardiff vs All Blacks. Before the game there was a minutes silence and I noticed quite a few men around us sniffing with tears in their eyes. This had a major impact on me.

I left in time to pick David — my brother-in-law — up at Dallas Love Airfield – we were both on time!

By the time we got on the road it was almost mid afternoon. We covered almost 250 miles to a place called Vernon which is up against the border with Oklahoma but is still in Texas.

Our route took us up almost to the border and then we should have turned left and West but we were talking so much that we missed the exit and found ourselves crossing the Red River (it is actually red from the colour of the soil around here) and into Oklahoma. We drove on for about 30 miles and then turned West on a main road, a classic two lane blacktop through farm and ranch land. Lovely looking country.

Texas ranch land from a speeding car — we were talking almost too much by now

At one point the road had a detour through a small town, it was a perfect Mid-West Country town, I wanted to take a photo but it was already dusk and so couldn’t. Almost worth the whole journey just to drive down the Main Street of this town.

We stopped at about 7pm and checked into a really nice Best Western at Vernon.

Gainseville — home of the ‘Cattlemans Special’ — a platter of meat that I have never seen surpassed since — we had 1 each!

We’d stopped for what can only be described as a plate of meat at a BBQ place in Gainesville Texas, mid afternoon – so neither of us wanted to eat. We just went to the local bar and had a few beers – nice quiet place.

The bar was attached to a restaurant whose name caused us some amusement. As we approached the hotel, David had made a comment about the need to avoid the “Bates Motel” the name of the fateful motel in Hitchcock’s film “Psycho” — the owner of the Bates Motel was called Norman. As we approached the car park in the hotel we saw that the restaurant was called ‘Normans’.

Next day we met the real Norman as we had breakfast in his place – it was good and Norman was a jolly looking man. Mind you David chose not to use the shower last night!