I know this blog is technically supposed to be about Knoxville, or at least our family, but I felt compelled to post the picture to the left. The photo was taken during a recent business trip to Grapevine, Texas.
On a whim, a few of us decided to drive into Dallas one day and visit the "Kennedy Museum" (the concierge's description) at the old Book Depository downtown. I don't know what I was expecting from that visit, but what I walked into that afternoon was one of the most profoundly affecting experiences I've had in a long time.
The JFK assassination occurred a couple of years before I was born, so, unlike my colleagues, I didn't hold any special memories regarding the occasion. My first knowledge of the event came from reading (and re-reading) my parents' old Life magazines that were published just after Kennedy's death. I remember one of the issues in particular, as it actually published the final segment of the Zapruder film over several pages. I was nine or ten at the time and I remember studying each frame of the film with a grisly fascination. It was inconceivable to my young mind that something like that could actually happen to the President of the United States. Obviously, at the time of the event, the rest of the world felt pretty much the same way.
I guess I never realized just how close Dealy Plaza actually is to the old book warehouse, but as we parked and walked toward the museum, the sunlit intersection slowly revealed itself to us from behind a row of trees. I felt an odd familarity creeping in as we continued on beyond the museum and then, suddenly, we found ourselves...there.
Dealy Plaza still looks amazingly identical to the way it did in November 1963, and on this similarly bright beautiful day, the scene was particularly poignant. I walked on the grassy knoll. I stood and shot video footage from the exact vantage point Mr. Zapruder had occupied that day nearly forty five years ago. I listened to several conspiracy theorists give their presentations (and accept donations).
And I took the photo above. The angle is from the grassy median between Main and Elm streets, facing back up toward the Book Depository and the window from which Lee Harvey Oswald shot and killed an American President. The faded "X" visible on Elm just adjacent to the passing car marks the location of the presidential limo when the second, fatal shot hit President Kennedy. The window itself, now left "open" for posterity, is on the far right of the building, second row from the top.
As I crossed Elm and again ascended the small hill toward Mr. Zapruder's location, I felt a slight chill- even in the warm sunlight of that beautiful afternoon. As I turned and moved my eyes slowly down Elm Street one last time, I could easily imagine a ghostly motorcade drifting by, over and over and over.
For those wanting to visit the site, here is the web address of the Sixth Floor Museum, an excellent tribute to the life, presidency and tragic death of John F. Kennedy.
But if you go, don't forget to walk the few steps beyond the museum to stand in Dealy Plaza. It's an experience you won't soon forget.
