Reviews of books that have held my interest. And things that happen along the way.
I have made it simpler to leave a comment. Just hit the comment selection and choose anonymous at the bottom- Or at my yahoo;
robertrswwilliams@yahoo.com
And let's not forget my friends at the Public Libraries!Most of my selections come from the Libraries listed on my sidebar. They are a great resource and a wonderful use of our tax dollars.
Have you hugged a Librarian today?
Just a quick look at these 2 photographs will give you a
rough idea of what life as a stray cat is like. When he was first abandoned
near our house, Midnight was a cute little fellow, with a purr-fect face and a
meow to match. There was an innocence behind his eyes.
Here it is, almost 3 years later, and his voice is shot, and
his face is scarred in several spots. There are also wounds to his ears and
sides. The innocence has been replaced with a certain wariness. In short; he has had a thin time of it.
He has become even more feral in
nature; never trying to come into the house at all; although he still allows
himself to be brushed and occasionally tolerates being petted. This is a photo I took today. It's rare that he lets me photograph him close up anymore. Since his recent fights he has become increasingly camera shy, although he has healed nicely. He looks kind of like Keith Richards. "Torn and Frayed."
I wonder, what is the nature of the bond that has formed
between us? We both have scars; and we both don’t always feel well. Beyond that
we have little in common aside from the need to know that we are there for one
another.
He uses me for food; that’s true. But he can get along
without me. He sometimes stays away for several days and seems to survive. He might
be a bit more hungry than usual upon his return, but you know what they say about lean freedom
being better than fat slavery.
He looks at the house cats in the windows with disdain. And he
scorns the ones that go in and out of their little cat doors. But, then he also
steals their food on occasion.
When I go out for my morning paper I am not at my best. I
have to adjust to the day. And there’s Midnight; lying by the front door;
trying to stay awake for his “dinner” before he sleeps off
whatever it is that he just done did last night.
Got a piece of mail from a Republican candidate for State
Senator in NC; I won’t say his name; and it opens with a very familiar quote
from Ronald Reagan; a man who would be horrified at what has happened to his “conservative
movement.” The quote is as follows;
“Republicans believe every day is the Fourth of July, but the Democrats
believe that every day is April 15th.”
Okay, let’s examine those words. They are designed to leave
the impression that all republicans are patriotic and all democrats are tax and
spend freeloaders. Think about it; if you believe in using your taxes as a way
to fund programs you are actually being fiscally responsible.
This is very unlike the Republicans, who wail on about the
ills of “redistribution” of the wealth; all while they vote for tax breaks they
know we cannot afford. Those tax breaks are paid for with the money from the social
programs which have been paid for by the taxes which they are exempt from. Sounds
like redistribution of the wealth to me; just in the wrong direction!
It was a slick piece of mail with but one flaw; it made me
think…
This is the bizarre but true story of Paul Ogorzow, one of
the world’s most infamous serial killers. It is also the story of the Nazi’s;
arguably the world’s biggest serial killers; and their attempt to find him in
wartime Berlin. Apparently it was an “It’s okay to kill Jews on a mass scale,
but don’t mess with our women” type of mentality.
It took over two years to catch this monster, in large
measure because the Nazi’s couldn’t be perceived as having been stumped by the
perpetrator. At first he was considered to be a Jew; why not? But then,
realizing that meant the regime was not able to keep the people safe from Jews
and other minorities, they began to focus on the hunt for the real killer.
The only thing they had to go on was that all the crimes;
which began as nuisance type of offenses; had escalated to rape and murder. The
crimes had all taken place along one line of the Berlin train system, known as
the S-Bahn. The killer lived in the area as well as worked there.
The blacked out streets of the “garden area” where half of
the crimes occurred, were dark for the blackout necessitated by the Allies
relentless bombing. It was literally pitch black, making identification almost
impossible. The living victims could only describe a vague sort of uniform.
Germany was rife with uniforms at the time so it could have been any number of
people.
The main concern of the Nazi’s was that the women would be
too frightened to report to their jobs at the factories where the munitions and
other necessities of war were manufactured. Moreover, what were the men at the
front supposed to think when they heard that their loved ones were not safe at
home? Would they desert? Would you blame them?
All of these things combined to keep the news from reaching
the public; until the killer shifted his modus again; this time to early Sunday
mornings when it was still dark. The meager clues that the authorities had all
began to take shape and form. They finally had a suspect.
In the end, absent any of the modern means of detection; and
with scant clues to go on; this investigation boiled down to good, old
fashioned detective work. The author’s
account of the final interrogation is reminiscent of the tension found in Poe’s
“The Tell Tale Heart.”
Plainly written; almost too simply it seems at first; this
book is a study of one particular case. But is also an insight to what justice
was like under the local authorities in Nazi Germany. From all indications it
was surprisingly normal if you were of Aryan descent. Paul Ogorzow was ultimately
found guilty of the murders and sentenced to death by guillotine. This was a
fascinating book.
Have you noticed that many of your favorite local newspaper columnists
have become bloggers? Some have found themselves out of work as a result of the
demise of the daily newspaper; and others have found themselves working
essentially for free as “featured bloggers” in the very papers they once worked
for. I have no idea how they are making a living. Some have fallen back on
grants and fellowships to pay the bills while they further their educations;
while others have gone on to jobs working in the universities.
All of this brings to mind the question of just what is a
journalist and where do bloggers fit into the picture? It can be argued; and
has by many of the columnists who are out of work; that bloggers are nothing
more than wannabes with no credentials and little talent. Ouch! That’s a bit
harsh, considering all the grammatical errors I correct in the daily paper. And
that’s not to mention some of the outright falsehoods and stretching of the
truth that most columnists rely upon to make their case about whatever they are
writing about. Most, if not all, have an agenda.
Bloggers, for the most part, are “wannabes” like me. We
write because we always have, it’s just now that we finally have a place to put
our stuff with any hope that someone might read it. We are composed of poets,
armchair historians, storytellers, hobbyists and political hacks; the latter being
the most closely related to the columnists who decry them to begin with.
The reason I blog is because I no longer work for a living.
Sidelined by health, blogging has proven an effective way to keep in touch with
my own intellectual abilities and also functions as a sort of diary of what I
am reading; music I am listening to; and stories which I want to pass down to
the grandkids. Along the way I might take on some politics; even the
Constitution if I feel so inclined.
But mostly I enjoy writing about films which I have grown to
love and books which have become a part of me. By writing it down I hope to
leave an impression of who I was while I was here. Not for fame, fortune or
love do I toil; I write for me. But when I get notes, letters, e-mails and even
books from people who are reading this stuff, well, I feel as if I have made a
connection. And when I get an e-mail from someone who was related to someone I
have written about; and this has happened more times than you can imagine in
the last 5 years; giving them back a piece of what was a puzzle to them; then I
am over the moon!
So, I guess this is what bloggers do best; we fill that
space between the columnist hacks and the legitimate news reporters. We are
composed of people just like you. While it’s true that many of us don’t have
degrees in journalism, we bring a whole wealth of knowledge and skills to the
table which would not be represented elsewhere. For that we neither ask, nor
expect, anything in return; except for a nice e-mail when warranted.
The above illustration
is of the bronze statue titled “Newsboy” which sits in the Library at the
University of Arizona. It was unveiled there in 2010 and was created by artist
John Muir. The number for the Libray is 520-621-6406.
Someday my children; or perhaps grandchildren; will come
across these volumes of carefully arranged numbers and wonder just what in the
hell they are; and what they were used for. That will explain this post.
I used these books while in the Navy; and later as a
Merchant Mariner; to find where we were while at sea. They were commonly called
“lattice tables” if my memory holds correct. When shooting the sun or stars for a position these books were invaluable since they saved you hours of the computations necessary to obtain the information already contained in the book.
The book itself is the finished product of about 3,000 years of
observations and calculations made by mariners who were sometimes representative of nations who were at war
with one another. But still the knowledge was shared. That’s how important these books were. Now, of
course, everything is on computer and smartphones, navigation satellites, etc.
but at one time you had to actually know what the numbers represented. And how to use them.
Basically the numbers are published in six volumes, with
each spanning a 15 degree segment of latitude. The one at top would be used in
latitudes from Northern Brazil to the lower southern United States.; or any
other location in the world within those boundaries. They are used for
navigating by sextant while crossing the ocean and out of sight of land.
Their use is outlined in the beginning pages so that anyone can open
the book up and teach themselves. That’s what I did. You take your longitude in
relation the Aries; this is called your Local Hour Angle. That, along with your
assumed latitude and sextant reading will yield you the precise mathematical
location of the star, or planet, which you have “shot” with your sextant. Converted, this will give you a line of position. Ideally, you do this for several stars.
These lines of position will then be used to lay lines on the chart
to the points where the stars would be if they were at sea level. Just like a
lighthouse, or bouy. The point where all of your lines cross represents the position you are at on the terrestrial plane.The satisfaction of making these computations is enormous, as they
give you a sense of just how small you, and your ship, are in comparison to the
larger picture. Nowadays there is a place to go online and the computer will
make these calculations for you.
You may have seen these for sale on e-bay. They run anywhere
from $9 to $20. I suppose many of the people snatching them up are
survivalists, waiting for the end times when all the technology will come
crashing down and knowledge will be magic. More power to them. I’m holding onto
mine because when I hold it in my hands I am 26 years old again, “punching pubs”
at dawn; or dusk; beneath a red light to preserve my night vision. The ship is
rolling and the air smells like diesel; or maybe that was me.
Thank you Mr. Bundy; until your comments on the “Negro” surfaced
I was not sure of what I would be posting today. Thanks to you I am now clear
on that question. So, in case you have
been buried somewhere in a hole; or just had your head in the sand lately; here’s
some background.
Cliven Bundy is the Nevada rancher who has been grazing his
cattle on your land for 20 years, or more, and doesn’t think he owes you any
money for. He was repeatedly warned about this practice and ignored several warnings
which were given concerning our government seizing his cattle as payment. When
the bill came due and our government sent marshals to do that, he met them with
armed resistance. After a brief stand-off, our troops decided not to kill him
and his supporters and left. Mr. Bundy has been crowing ever since.
I use the pro-nouns “our” and “we” in describing the
government because that is exactly who the government represents; you and me.
Mr. Bundy and his friends are so busy casting things in terms of “us” and “them”
that I felt the need to remind everyone who “we” really are.
We are the government; though at the present time we may not
all be happy with our representation; either at the local or federal level. The
fact remains though, that when Mr. Bundy picks Uncle Sam’s pocket he is really stealing
from you and me, since there is no Uncle Sam; just a treasury with “our” money
in it.
So, why all the surprise that this guy is a racist who
supports the idea of slavery; search me? Here are his remarks. If you like this
guy, more power to you; just don’t steal any more of our money. The next time I’m
rooting for the Federal Marshalls. I
have highlighted the double negatives of this highly educated man. It's the same old crap - just in a different hat. You can't make this stuff up...
“I want to tell you one more thing I know about the Negro,”
he said. Mr. Bundy recalled driving past a public-housing project in North Las
Vegas, “and in front of that government house the door was usually open and the
older people and the kids — and there is always at least a half a dozen people
sitting on the porch — they didn’t have nothing to do. They didn’t have nothing for their kids to
do. They didn’t have nothing for
their young girls to do.
“And because they were basically on government subsidy, so
now what do they do?” he asked. “They abort their young children; they put
their young men in jail, because they never learned how to pick cotton. And
I’ve often wondered, are they better off as slaves, picking cotton and having a
family life and doing things, or are they better off under government subsidy?
They didn’t get no more freedom.
They got less freedom.”
Riveting is the one word which bests describes this film.
Chloe, played by Alice Eve, is a single mother living in a run-down road side
motel. Her daughter lives with her. The local DSS wants her to move from the
transient hotel or lose custody of her child. She plans on leaving but is
trying to save enough money.
The motel doubles as a brothel run by local police officer
Billy, played by Logan-Marshall Green. He is corrupt and ruthless. And though
he doesn’t know it, he is about to meet his match in TOPO, played by Bryan
Cranston. TOPO is a mysterious figure who is passing through town with a driver
and a whole lot of cash. When the driver gets involved with one of the local
girls at the motel and is killed, TOPO has no one to finish driving him on his
mysterious journey.
As TOPO uses Chloe to try and finish the job he was paid to
do, she realizes that his eyesight is failing; which is why he had a driver in
the first place. Essentially trapped in the motel with no transportation he is
forced to use both Chloe and her daughter as his eyes; as well as shields.
When the car TOPO was being driven in is impounded he must
use her connections with Officer Billy in an attempt to retrieve the cash
hidden in the car. But Billy has gotten to it first. This begins a deadly game
of cat and mouse as TOPO looks to get back the cash, along with a bit of
revenge.
Tautly directed and tersely written, this film will have you
stuck in your seat for the full 90 minutes. Outstanding performances by all
make this one a sure fire winner.
The Brighton line at Kings Highway and East 16th
Street has been elevated since 1907. This photo from the “Brooklyn’s Mother
Road” site; http://forgotten-ny.com/2002/11/kings-highway-brooklyns-mother-road/ purports to be a photo of Kings Highway in
1906 with the tracks at the street level. You can see them running left to right in the foreground. That means this photo is facing
either East or West on the Highway. The following photo shows the same location
1 year later with the new elevated station in place, leaving me unsure that the first photograph is really correct as to location.
Although the tracks are in the street, which is consistent with
the original Brighton line location, the street looks too un-developed in the
first photograph. And, in the second photograph, the buildings don’t look brand new and the sidewalks don’t
have the strips of earth for planting. Still, though, the first photo is a great reminder of
the days before the Brighton line was elevated.
The 1907 photo is more emblematic of the Kings Highway we
all remember growing up. The candy store is already there on the right, hidden
by the delivery wagon. The station platform doesn't look quite the same. I
think the station platforms were extended later on.
I really wish that the first photo had a better description
of which way it is facing. If it is facing east then it is possible that the
street beyond East 16th Street had not yet been developed. That kind of
makes sense, as the Kings Highway Savings Bank on the corner of East 16th Street didn't go up for
another 20 odd years.
But, if the photograph is located correctly then it was taken
just a few feet from where Dubrow’s would eventually rise on the left; and
Rainbow Shops would later stand on the right.
Brooklyn; especially Kings Highway; has a long and storied
past. If you were raised there then you have the fortune to be able to go on
line and find these old photos. If you were raised in a small town somewhere it
can be very hard to find old photos such as these to piece together the growth
of your town; or in this case a neighborhood.
If anyone has any further information on that first photo;
showing the tracks of the Brighton line at street level; please let me know.
Like many of the people I grew up with, I have been collecting these old photos
from the internet. They make a fascinating study in urban growth.
But even more important for me, the ones from the 1930’s on
are a visual record of the places my Mom and Dad used to go as kids, and later
as teenagers. I can’t look at a photo of the Kingsway Theater for example,
without thinking of the night my mother first met my father there. He was 17
and working as an usher.
It’s the same with the photos of the train station itself.
Whenever I see those older photos I remember the story of the Blizzard of 1948. My
father’s family had moved to Manhattan by then, and my father had to make the
trip from the Upper West Side to Kings Highway to see my Mom.
The blizzard story was one of my favorites. My Dad made the
trip, which took hours in the storm, only to arrive at Kings Highway and then
make his way on foot from East 16th Street to Bedford Ave where my
Mom lived. He made it, and had to stay the night and the next day until the
storm had passed.
No point to this post; just my way of putting down on paper
some of the stories I want to pass down the line for my children and
grandchildren.
The Constitution of the United States of America is a
wonderful document. The principles upon which it is founded are the
cornerstone of our very souls. The document is emblematic of that uniqueness of
the American Spirit which gave it birth. It has but one flaw. Almost
immediately after the opening phrase “We the People”, we the people get left
behind. The document is so hard for the average American to understand that it
sometimes appears to be saying the opposite of what it means.
We all know that it is not without flaw; no document ever
is; even my own. But you have to marvel at some of the stuff the founding
fathers; and their successors; have come up with over the centuries. My
favorite is, of course, the 27th Amendment. This Amendment was
passed within our lifetimes. I’m assuming that you were born before 1992. I was born in 1954. And,
as with all previous Amendments passed since I was born, I paid close attention
to it.
The 23rd Amendment was the first in my lifetime.
It dealt with giving the citizens in the District of Columbia the right to
vote. This was a big deal. Imagine, before this law was passed, white folks
were actually equal with African-Americans south of the Mason-Dixon Line. They
couldn't vote either. I was 7 years old and I understood this Amendment.
The 24th Amendment was passed in 1964 and
abolished the poll tax, ensuring that all citizens had a right to vote. It is
sometimes mistakenly referred to as the Voting Rights Act. I was 10 years old
and understood it.
The 25th Amendment was less interesting, as it
dealt with succession of the office of the Presidency. But since we had lost a
President when Kennedy was assassinated only 4 years earlier, I did pay attention. I was 13 and I
understood it.
The 26th Amendment was an easy one. It was passed
in 1971 when I was almost 17 years old. With a Presidential Election coming in
November of 1972, it meant that I could vote, along with anyone else who was 18
years old. I was 17 years old at the time, so I really understood this one.
Now, here’s my favorite; the 27th Amendment.
Before I even take umbrage with it, I will print it here for you. You can go
and check it elsewhere if you wish. I assure you it is to the letter.
“No law, varying the compensation for the services of the Senators and
Representatives, shall take effect, until an election of Representatives shall
have intervened.”
Now, the Amendment was added as an addition to Article I, Section 6, Clause 1 of the Constitution, which states;
“The Senators and Representatives shall receive a Compensation for
their Services, to be ascertained by Law, and paid out of the Treasury of the
United States.”
The original intent of the article was that the elected members of Congress
not decide for themselves how much they were worth. The Amendment to it not
only muddles this point but ends up in calling for an election of the
representatives; which was never an issue in the first place. After all, Congress does make the laws.
But; moreover; in practice this was tied to a Court Case in 1989 which gave the Congressmen and Congresswomen a Cost of Living increase annually. The rest
of the country has never had a cost of living increase. The court declared that
a cost of living increase for the Senate and Congress was not a raise. This of course also applies to
Federal Employees.
So, basically the Congress waited until the cost of living was already
in place before ratifying the amendment giving themselves the power to grant themselves a raise. And they get a cost of living
increase along with it. And every other year they get to vote against accepting
this cost of living increase, giving themselves a great opportunity to pretend
to be turning down a raise. At about $180,000 per year plus perks and
expenses I guess they can afford to wait a year or so.
And let’s not forget that if they vote against it for 3
years in a row; or any number of years for that matter; they later on get the
cumulative increase for the years in which they voted to not get a cost of
living increase. It’s a shell game. It took them 202 years to ratify this 24
word amendment. Ask someone what it means. I’m 59 and still don’t understand
it.
Now you have to ask yourself why this was allowed to stand
after so long a time had passed. After all, the passage of time is exactly what
they say keeps the Equal Rights Amendment for Women from being ratified. And that's only 41 years old. It
only lacks 3 states. By contrast the 27th Amendment was only ratified after Michigan certified
it on May 7, 1992. This made 38 states, enough for the Amendment to be
certified by the Chief Archivist of the United States Don W. Wilson. On May 19,
1992, he had it printed in the Federal Register, together with the certificate
of ratification.
The only 2 legislators to speak out against the
unusual length of time for ratification were Tom Foley and Robert Byrd. They
called for a challenge to the Ratification. But,technically speaking, certifying an amendment falls under Title 1, section 106 b of the United States Code, which states:
“Whenever official notice is received at the
National Archives and Records Administration that any amendment proposed to the
Constitution of the United States has been adopted, according to the provisions
of the Constitution, the Archivist of the United States shall forthwith cause
the amendment to be published, with his certificate, specifying the States by
which the same may have been adopted, and that the same has become valid, to
all intents and purposes, as a part of the Constitution of the United States.”
Notice the statute does not contain a time clause. Now you have to ask yourself why the Equal Rights
Amendment for Women was not afforded the same privilege. The reason often given
is that too long a time period has passed. That flies in the face of the 27th Amendment and how it had no trouble being ratified.
Basically this is about duplicity concerning the Ratification of the ERA. The
real reason for the law has been lying dormant is in the wording. It is written to grant Equal Rights to all genders.
That would now include the LGBT community and Same Sex Marriage, which are both
Civil Rights Issues to begin with. That legislation reads as follows;
Section 1. Equality of rights under the law
shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account
of sex.
Section 2. The Congress shall have the power
to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article.
Section 3. This amendment shall take effect
two years after the date of ratification.
Our Constitution is a wonderful piece of legislation. It
is; as I said earlier; the backbone of our society, and I wouldn't change it
for the world. But there are parts of it that need to be made clearer for the
average citizen.
If you believe; as I do; that the only thing new is the
history you don’t know, then this book will astound you. It’s like reading
today’s newspaper; underscoring the fact that precious little has really
changed in the last 100 years since these events occurred.
Terrorism, espionage, germ warfare, piracy; in
short; anything which you can find in today’s paper can be found in this book
which recounts the events of the 2 years preceding America’s entry into World
War One. Germany’s undeclared war on the United States mirrors everything which
the Islamic terrorist of the 21st Century would like to accomplish.
If you lose track of some of the aliases and names while
reading this book, don’t worry, author Howard Blum pulls everything together in
an ending which rivals the best that Hollywood has to offer in the way of
fiction. The big difference, of course, is that this story is true.
With the same wide ranging and highly charged style which
marked his earlier book “American Lightning”, Mr. Blum introduces the reader to
an astounding cast of characters; comprised of diplomats, Professors,
stevedores, watchmakers and even J.P. Morgan; the American financer who once
bailed out the country with cash during a recession. There are policemen,
detectives and politicians; some good, some bad; but all part of the plot to
keep American munitions out of the war against Germany by whatever means
necessary.
The bombings were simple enough; compared to the planned
anthrax and horse plaque attacks which were planned by German diplomats, along
with scores of German seaman who found themselves stuck in a foreign neutral port
for the duration of the war.
The story also involves a Harvard college professor named
Muenter, who killed his wife and left his children, taking on a new identity in
New Mexico. He remarried under the
assumed name of Frank Holt and began a new academic career in foreign
languages. He was soon at the top of his profession. He also became an important
component to the larger story.
At the same time, Detective Tom Tunney; in New York City; is
on the trail of the mysterious bomber who has been successfully sabotaging the
American war effort. At the direction of
the Police Commissioner he is able to tap phone lines, use force, and whatever
else may be necessary to stop the sinking of ships by explosion after the ships
have been at sea for several days.
During the summer of 1915 there were scores of ships sunk as
a result. The devices ranged from a small “cigar” bomb; which was a small lead
container divided in half by a small sheet of copper. Chemicals were added to
each side that ate the copper sheet away. When the chemicals combined they
produced a white hot flame. Planted among cargo they were devastating.
The German ships which were interred in the harbor on both
sides of the river made for ideal recruitment for the network needed to plant
the explosive devices on the American ships. And with the help of German
diplomats and shipping executives, the operation was well funded and there was
serious money to be made for the bored German seamen. One ship, interred at
Hoboken, was actually converted into a bomb factory, with every member of the
crew taking part in some way. Irish stevedores; with no love for England; were
also a reliable source of operatives.
There were also plans to blow up various landmarks around
the country. One of the first successes Detective Tunney enjoyed was the arrest
of the men who planned to blow up St. Patrick’s Cathedral. That effort was
foiled by two detectives dressed as scrub-women, who watched the bomber plant
the bomb before tackling him.
The germ warfare was designed to sicken the horses which the
United States was supplying to all of the nations at war; with the exception of
Germany. This is the same thing that caused Japan to form the Asian
Co-Prosperity Sphere, which led to the Second World War. Sanctions don’t work
well without force to back it up. This is a lesson which should be heeded by
our own politicians today. There is no teacher as adept as knowing history.
Paul Koenig was the German shipping magnate who ruled the
waterfront in New York and New Jersey. He was loaded with cash but when his
nephew didn’t show up for work one day due to an illness, he was docked $2.52
for the day. Infuriated at his Uncle he would become part of the events which
unraveled the madness.
It was the same with Heinrich Albert. He was too cheap to
spring for a $1.75 taxi ride; opting for the elevated train instead. He fell
asleep on the train and left his briefcase; which held documents summarizing
all of the sabotage that had been done up to that point; and also gave insights
into what was still being planned.
But of all the characters in this story, none is more
fascinating than Frank Holt, the former Professor Muenter. After killing his
wife with arsenic and leaving the children with his in-laws, he sets out to
reinvent himself. With his love for the fatherland and his talent for
languages, he is looking for a way to serve the cause. In a 48 hour period
during the July 4th weekend in 1915 he not only successfully plants
an explosive in the Capitol; he then heads to Long Island and the home of J.P.
Morgan.
Once there he intends to speak with him; he wants Mr. Morgan
to stop financing the Allied war effort; but he brings along 6 sticks of
dynamite and a revolver just in case JP needs persuading. He is beaten and captured by the servants after
shooting Mr. Morgan. Morgan survives, but Frank Holt only lives for a few more
days in the town jail, where he is either killed by 2 gunshots to the head, or
he jumped from the top bar of the cell door, dashing his skull.
There is so much more to recount about this book, but it
really needs to be read to be enjoyed thoroughly. I think it is to safe to say; from the Black Tom Explosion to the Zimmerman Telegram; that Mr. Blum has covered it all. He has a style which
makes you wish he had been your history teacher in high school. He writes with
a sense of urgency which is easily felt by the reader. As Detective Tunney
races against the clock to avoid one disaster after another, you can almost
hear the clock ticking. Or, is that a bomb?
Here’s another fine movie I first saw on television as a
kid. The plot is extremely simple; a nightclub performer hires a chorus girl to
become his new dance partner. He does this to prove to his ex-partner that he
can make anybody a success. But that’s just the plot.
And, what makes this film such a timeless classic is the
score by Irving Berlin and the performances by Fred Astaire and Judy Garland. After
all; the real joy of this film; or any musical for that matter; is in the
songs. And this one has a whole bunch of showstoppers in it.
Of course, Judy Garland; as Hannah; and Fred Astaire; as Don
Hewes; are the stars of the show. Bringing up the rear you have Anne Miller; as
Nadine; and Peter Lawford; as Jonathan Harrow III; who are both friends and
rivals of Hannah and Don. And Miss Miller can really dance! And, while Peter Lawford
gives it his best shot at singing, his strongest suit (no pun intended) is that
he looks great in a tuxedo, and you get the feeling that’s how he got the part.
This is a wonderful movie, filled with one great number
after another. I hadn’t seen this film in about 30 years and decided to give it
a shot for the holiday. Most people would probably post the “Easter Parade”
number in the review of this film. I’m partial to the song below. I actually
used to sing this in the shower when I was in the Navy. The old timers thought
I had good taste; though a lousy voice. The younger guys just thought I was
gay!
It’s Holy Week in Jerusalem again. It’s also the tail end of Passover for
the Jewish people. It's also Easter for the Christians. And the place which is at the center of both holidays is Jerusalem, which is also home to the Islamic religion. Have you ever stopped to
consider the conundrum created by this close proximity of the world’s 3 largest
faiths?
The photo above is of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the site where Christians believe Jesus was buried. It's only a stones throw away from the Western Wall, which is just a stairway away from the Dome of the Rock. It's a volatile situation.
The Hebrews’ have fought there against the Romans, who
wanted to take away the concept of a religion based on One God; this was before
they became Christians and added the New Testament to the Old. The Christians,
in turn, have fought there against the Islamics; who wanted to amend the New
Testament with the Quran. And that’s just the religious element.
The settlement the Jewish people in what would shortly
become Israel after the Second World War brought a new conflict to the area.
And this conflict, between the Jewish people against the Islamic; while over
land rather than religion; shows no sign of abating anytime soon.
Just take a look at the events of last Wednesday as an
example of the obstacles to be overcome before there can ever be peace in the
Mid-East. The story takes place at the Western Wall; Israel’s most Holy site;
which is located at the bottom of the Dome of the Rock; which is Islam’s most
Holy site.
The Wall is the physical location of the first two Hebrew temples,
the spot where in 70 A.D. the Romans destroyed the second temple. The top of
the wall; and the Dome of the Rock; is the spot where tradition holds that the
Prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven. The Jewish people believe that a third
temple will rise there someday. The Christians expect the Apocalypse to begin
there, as foretold in Revelations.
So, while the Jews expect that their religion will be the
dominant force in the area, the Islamic believers expect that their God will
prevail; which leaves the Christians, who are waiting for it all to be
destroyed because we all fall short of God’s Glory. Have you got all that?
The events of last Wednesday are the result of the
Islamic fear that Israel is chomping at the bit to take over the Dome of the
Rock. This belief is bolstered by the fact that Jews are permitted to worship
at the Dome; though not inside; while the Arabs are banned from the Wailing
Wall below. The part which probably irks the Islamic side so much is that
traditionally Jews have considered the top of the rock; where the Dome sits; to
be so holy that no Israelis have ever really been encouraged to pray there.
Until recently, that is.
The Orthodox Jews in Israel; who don’t believe they have
the obligation to serve in the Israeli Army; apparently have no qualms about
escalating the tensions in the world’s most volatile spot. Increasingly they
have demanded to be allowed to pray at the Dome, which has many Arabs angered
and concerned. And I can understand that.
Last Wednesday, as tempers flared again over this
contentious issue, the Arabs worshiping at the Dome of the Rock staged a
demonstration, barricading themselves in a part of the holy site. At the same
time they began to hurl stones down on the Jewish people below who were
worshiping at the Western Wall.
This, in turn, sent the Israeli Police and Military to
the Dome of the Rock; which they control as a result of the 1967 “Six Day War”,
in which Israel was the victor and so won control of Jerusalem. At the time Jews
were not permitted to worship there, as it was under the control of the Islamic
side. The Police had to actually enter the Dome to quell the disturbance, which
only fueled the anger of the Islamic worshipers.
Jerusalem is the holiest city to the world’s three major
religions. No one should own it, or control it. It should be under some sort of
international stewardship. Millions come from all parts of the world each year
to see and touch their heritage. Surely this is one spot on the earth where
differences of faith should be set aside for the further glory of all people,
of all faiths.
The stakes are high; after all, if something so small
cannot be accomplished by the people who are most affected by it, what hope is
there really for Peace in the Mid-East in general? Maybe the Christians have it
right; perhaps it all needs to be destroyed before we can ever really get along
with one another.
Somehow I just can’t bring myself to give up hope that
human beings will someday be able to respect one another and share the world.
I’m just not holding my breath any longer.
Today is the 239th anniversary of Paul Revere’s famous midnight ride. It is one of the first
American history lessons I ever recall hearing. I must have been in
Kindergarten at the time. Mrs. Gerber; with seamed stockings; was my teacher
and she read the poem to the class. We were enthralled. And I’ve never
forgotten her seamed stockings – or the poem.
Of course, that’s not
Paul Revere, or even Longfellow above; that’s Mark Lindsay with Paul Revere and
the Raiders doing a medley of their hits “Mr. Sun”, “Out on Road”, and “Kicks.”
I have included them for the sake of diversity.
Following is a short paragraph
about Mr. Longfellow and his famous poem; followed by the poem itself. At the
end I have included an eye witness account of that day at Lexington and Concord
by Sylvanus Wood, who was 23 years old at the time.
In April of 1860 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow climbed the
tower of the Old North Church and was inspired to write his simplified version
of the nights' events. It was first published in The Atlantic Monthly in
January of 1861. It has since acquired legendary stature and has served as the
inspiration for millions of Americans to learn more about the events of that
night. I reprint it here with great pleasure and as a tribute to those men who
gathered at Lexington that morning to begin the labor pains that ultimately
gave birth to our Nation.
The Midnight
Ride of Paul Revere
Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."
Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.
Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.
Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.
A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.
It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.
It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
The following is an eyewitness account of that day by
Sylvanus Wood, who wrote the following in 1828. He was born in 1752 and was 23
at the time of the actual events. This statement was sworn before a Notary.
"I, Sylvanus
Wood, of Woburn, in the county of Middlesex, and commonwealth of Massachusetts,
aged seventy-four years, do testify and say that on the morning of the 19th of
April, 1775, I was an inhabitant of Woburn, living with Deacon Obadiah Kendall;
that about an hour before the break of day on said morning, I heard the
Lexington bell ring, and fearing there was difficulty there, I immediately
arose, took my gun and, with Robert Douglass, went in haste to Lexington, which
was about three miles distant.
When I arrived there, I inquired of Captain Parker, the
commander of the Lexington company, what was the news. Parker told me he did
not know what to believe, for a man had come up about half an hour before and
informed him that the British troops were not on the road. But while we were
talking, a messenger came up and told the captain that the British troops were
within half a mile. Parker immediately turned to his drummer, William Diman,
and ordered him to beat to arms, which was done. Captain Parker then asked me
if I would parade with his company. I told him I would. Parker then asked me if
the young man with me would parade. I spoke to Douglass, and he said he would
follow the captain and me.
By this time many of the company had gathered around the
captain at the hearing of the drum, where we stood, which was about half way
between the meetinghouse and Buckman's tavern. Parker says to his men, 'Every
man of you, who is equipped, follow me; and those of you who are not equipped,
go into the meeting-house and furnish yourselves from the magazine, and
immediately join the company.' Parker led those of us who were equipped to the
north end of Lexington Common, near the Bedford Road, and formed us in single
file. I was stationed about in the centre of the company. While we were
standing, I left my place and went from one end of the company to the other and
counted every man who was paraded, and the whole number was thirty-eight, and
no more.
Confrontation at Lexington Green
Just as I had finished and got back to my place, I
perceived the British troops had arrived on the spot between the meeting-house
and Bucknian's, near where Captain Parker stood when he first led off his men.
The British troops immediately wheeled so as to cut off those who had gone into
the meeting-house. The British troops approached us rapidly in platoons, with a
general officer on horseback at their head. The officer came up to within about
two rods of the centre of the company, where I stood, the first platoon being
about three rods distant. They there halted. The officer then swung his sword,
and said, 'Lay down your arms, you damned rebels, or you are all dead men.
Fire!' Some guns were fired by the British at us from the first platoon, but no
person was killed or hurt, being probably charged only with powder.
Just at this time, Captain Parker ordered every man to
take care of himself. The company immediately dispersed; and while the company
was dispersing and leaping over the wall, the second platoon of the British
fired and killed some of our men. There was not a gun fired by anv of Captain
Parker's company, within my knowledge. I was so situated that I must have known
it, had any thing of the kind taken place before a total dispersion of our
company. I have been intimately acquainted with the inhabitants of Lexington,
and particularly with those of Captain Parker's company, and, with one
exception, I have never heard any of them say or pretend that there was any
firing at the British from Parker's company, or any individual in it until
within a year or two. One member of the company told me, many years since,
that, after Parker's company had dispersed, and he was at some distance, he
gave them 'the guts of his gun.'"
Am I the only one who understands this, or am I just ill-informed?
First off, if you don’t know the difference between an Amendment and an Article
in the US Constitution, then this post is not for you. If you would like to
know, then I’ll tell you.
An Amendment to the Constitution is something which has been added; or changed from the original Articles; which delineate what the
government’s functions are, and how they are to go about their jobs. Amendments
are; beginning with the first ten in the Bill of Rights; outline the areas of our lives in which the government is not allowed to intrude. And sometimes; as with the 27th Amendment; they are merely additions or corrections to existing Articles.
Secondly; Civil Rights Issues; of which Same Sex Marriage is but one; are not negotiable, and therefore not subject to populist elections. It is essential that you understand these two things. Okay, got that straight? Now, some background.
Bill Clinton is the ex-President who is seen as the
godfather to the GLBT movement. I hope I have the initials in the proper order
so as not to offend anyone. But Bill Clinton; in addition to giving us the ill-advised
“Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy; also left us with a lasting legacy; and
conundrum; in the form of the Defense of Marriage Act.
DOMA; it’s easier to use the acronym; basically stated that
marriage in the United States consists of one man and one woman. That alone is
confusing to me in that Bill Clinton is embraced by the GLBT community as a
champion of their quest for equal rights. But what really puzzles me even more is the
clause within DOMA which basically guts Article 4; the Full Faith and
Credit Clause; which states that “Full faith and Credit shall be given in each
state to the Public Acts, records and Judicial proceedings of every other state….”
In essence, this clause prevents the individual states from not honoring your
driver’s license, automobile registration, marriage license etc. when traveling
through their districts. This was a good thing.
Can you imagine the confusion resulting in having to pay a
fee at each state border as you travel across the country? Or having to get a
temporary marriage permit while on vacation? Full Faith and Credit is the
antithesis of State’s Rights, which brings me to the crux of this post.
Bill Clinton planted the seeds for all the confusion going
on in the courts across the country right now in regards to Same Sex Marriage.
That’s right; the godfather of alternative lifestyles is at the root of the
problem being faced by GLBT people all across the land as they try to navigate the labyrinth
of state laws which permit them to marry in some states, while making those unions illegal in others.
Further complicating the matter is that the Supreme Court
struck down only that portion of DOMA which restricted Same Sex Marriage. It did not,
however, strike down the clause which allowed the individual states to by-pass
Article 4 of the Constitution. This is why you have lawsuit after lawsuit
concerning Same Sex Marriage in one state after another. If the entire DOMA had been struck down this would not be an issue.
President Bush postured to repeal the entire DOMA Act in
order to gain conservative votes. Had he known what a roadblock DOMA could be
for Same Sex Marriage he would have felt differently. This brings us to President
Obama; who has stated in the past that his position on this issue was “evolving.”
What is his administration’s position on this issue now?
Well, according to Eric Holder and the Justice Department,
the portion of DOMA which remains intact regarding Full Faith and Credit; which
would allow a Same Sex Marriage in Vermont to not be honored in Kansas; the
government; for now; will not pursue a change. What the hell does that mean?
Full Faith and Credit has served this country well; both
socially and commercially; for well over 200 years. The patchwork quilt created
by Bill Clinton; and unchanged by his predecessors; is an ill omen of things to
come. As a legal precedent it threatens us in more ways than just Same Sex
Marriage. With Conservatives calling for a roll back to an era before the Civil Rights Act of 1964 it threatens us in more ways than you can imagine.
And, as these elections about Same Sex Marriage roll around to your state, it is important to remember that Civil Rights are not subject to elections. They are non-negotiable.
These are some of my favorite stories from the last 4 years.
Some; as with “The Police Gazette”, “Benny” and “Baffled”, although written
separately; belong in “It’s Only Me.” Others; such as “The Lovers” and “The Old
Black Guy”; are just little stories about true events, the words of which came all
at once and I was just lucky enough to write them down before they were gone.
But the one thing they all have in common is that they are all true stories.
April is one of the most active times of the year
historically. There is reason for this. In the past, before airplanes and other
modern conveniences became available, April marked the end of winter and the
roads became passable. New conflicts arose and old ones resumed. Just look at
our own American history; which is fairly recent in the grand scheme of things;
and you will see the pattern.
The Revolutionary War began in April, with the landing of
the Kings troops in Boston and the Battle of Lexington and Concord. Our Civil
War may have technically begun in January, but it wasn’t prosecuted in full
until the Battle of Bull Run in the spring. The war also ended in April, just
in time for General Lee’s troops to return home and try to coax a harvest out
of their war ravaged land.
The picture above is “April”, or “Avril” from “Les Très
Riches Heures du Duc de Berry”, which is translated as The Very Rich Hours of
the Duke of Berry.” I ran across this beautiful collection of French Gothic Art
while looking up some information for this post. The complete work consists of
12 panels, each one representing a month of the year. This panel shows a couple
exchanging rings.
Now, I could continue on with what would be a very
boring piece about the importance of the weather in history; which is what
makes April so significant in regards to the amount of historical events
contained in any single month. Or, I can tell you about these new paintings I just
“discovered.” I’ll take the latter option.
Apparently, at the dawn of the 15th Century;
about 1400 A.D.; there was a Frenchman who had some money and wanted to
chronicle the months of the year in paintings which also represented his
lifestyle. To that end he commissioned the Limbourg Brothers to create a 12
panel set. The work was begun in 1412 but by 1416 the two brothers; as well as
the Duke of Berry; were all dead. The paintings then passed on to his
relatives, where it languished for several decades.
In 1845 an heir of the Dukes decided to have the work
completed. He chose Jean Colombe to finish the set. Though his paintings are in
many ways distinguishable from the original ones completed by the Limbourg
Brothers, the spirit of the project remains wholly intact. Upon first viewing
it would appear that these paintings were the result of one unbroken effort on
the part of the Limbourgs, rather than a project which was completed years
later by another artist.
You can see all of the paintings; as well as read about them
here;
This is one of the best things about blogging. I am always
learning things. When I look up one thing I bump into another. It’s endless;
underscoring just how much there is to learn in the short time which we are
given to learn anything at all. Now, that’s a sobering thought…
As far as my post about April; there was one part in which I
was going to explain how the name represents an “opening”, or “blooming” of a
new season. Also, in many Asian countries April 15 is celebrated as the New
Year, which coincides with the spring planting. There were lots of other boring
things I was going to relate; like the Titanic going down, etc. But they all paled in comparison to these
wonderful paintings which I had never seen before.
If you believe that President Kennedy was killed by a lone
assassin named Lee Harvey Oswald, then this is the book you have been waiting
for. On the other hand, if you believe that President Kennedy was a victim of a
conspiracy, then this is the book for you. Author Philip Shenon has gathered
the memories of all the surviving staff members who assisted the Warren
Commission in compiling its report, and in doing so has only bolstered the
beliefs of both sides.
The Warren Commission Report was initiated by President
Johnson, who later opined to Walter Cronkite that he believed there was a
conspiracy to kill Kennedy, and therefore did not believe in the findings of
the commission he himself had created. It was never signed by the man who
chaired it; Chief Justice Earl Warren, who suppressed evidence in order to wrap
things up neatly. And, finally, it was signed reluctantly by the man who would,
11 years later become the first unelected President of the United States,
Gerald Ford.
If you ever want to explain why Americans don’t really trust
their government, and embrace conspiracy theories in the first place, you have
only to look at the dysfunction of the Warren Commission to prove your point.
The infighting between the various agencies; such as the FBI and the CIA to
withhold evidence and sources from one another, as well as the commission, are
perfect examples.
The book goes into detail about the connection of Oswald’s
supposed Mexican visit, which produced no known photos of him at either of the
embassies he supposedly visited, raising the possibility of a double agent. His
relationship with Silvia Duran, of the Cuban Embassy is also explored.
Of particular interest are the deals made by Marina Oswald
in the days immediately surrounding her husband’s death at the hands of Jack
Ruby. She sold her husband’s diary without even telling the police that there
was one. She also burned what she thought to be the only copies of the now
iconic photos of her husband posing with a rifle, handgun and a Communist newspaper.
The fact that there were so many other copies floating about in the days before
digital scanning, etc. makes me wonder. Who else had copies of these photos and
why?
Her take from the various book deals and magazine articles
amounted to about $300,000 in today’s dollars. She fired her business manager,
James Martin, after having a brief affair with him while living in his home.
She ended the affair by calling his wife and telling her that her husband was
no longer employed as her manager, or lover.
Marina Oswald wasn’t the only widow taking in some immediate
cash. Jackie Kennedy began work on her book with Arthur Schlesinger before the
Warren Commission was even done with their report. The commission was not even
going to call upon her for her testimony; wishing to spare her the ordeal;
until they got wind of the book. If she could talk about it for money, then she
could appear before the Commission. Still, when it came time to depose her,
they went to her home in Georgetown, where she was living at the time.
Robert Kennedy would only appear before the Commission by a
series of letters; ones which he wrote himself. The first one was a request
from Chief Justice Earl Warren to him; written by RFK asking him to submit a
reply. The Chief Justice signed that request and sent it back to RFK. A
pre-approved reply was then sent to the Chief Justice.
The portion of the investigation dealing with Jack Ruby is a
true riddle. The man had the opportunity to kill Oswald on Friday night at the
infamous “news conference” at the City Jail, where he was paraded before the
press. Ruby even took part in that event when he corrected DA Henry Wade on the
correct name of the Fair Play for Cuba Committee. He was that well known to the
local police, yet no one noticed him entering the building on Sunday morning
when he was finally able to kill Oswald.
Ruby ended up deranged before and during his trial for
killing Oswald. He believed that since he had murdered Oswald the Jews of
America were being tortured in retaliation. He was clearly insane; even judged
to be so; yet he was still sentenced to death for his crime. He died before the
sentence could be carried out. His chapter remains one of the most
controversial among conspiracy theorists.
Arlen Specter, the architect of the “magic bullet” theory;
which says that one pristine bullet caused 7 wounds to both Kennedy and Governor
Connally before landing underneath a rubber mat on the gurney at Parkland
hospital; is portrayed as an adequate investigator. His theory was doubted by
just about everyone on the Commission. It has been the subject of numerous
recreations using the latest technology to prove its validity. But think about
this; if you intentionally set out to prove a theory correct, you must first
start out by accepting that theory to be true. If you believe it to be false it
is just as easy to prove that as well.
One of the most interesting events to come out of the Warren
Commission’s investigation occurred when William Coleman; the lone
African-American working for the Committee; went to a secret rendezvous off of
Cuba to meet Castro and ask him; face to face; whether or not he, or the
Russians, had anything to do with the President’s murder.
Castro had told the press in October of 1963 that the
American government was targeting him for assassination; which they were under
Operation Mongoose a black op being run by the CIA. He also promised to
retaliate in kind; which many people think is actually what happened; Operation
Mongoose got reversed by right wing factions within the United Sates, making
Kennedy the target instead.
The most interesting thing about Coleman’s encounter is that
he already knew Castro from the Cuban leader’s visits to New York, which had
begun as early as the 1940’s. Apparently Coleman had met him in Harlem at the
jazz clubs when Castro was on his honeymoon in 1948. They were both jazz fans.
When they met again in 1964 aboard a Cuban navy boat, they discussed that visit
and music before getting down to business. Castro denied any involvement in the
murder, and Mr. Coleman took him at face value.
The investigators themselves; along with the 7 Committee members
themselves, were often at odds over the direction and progress of the
Commission. Some wanted to focus on the foreign conspiracy aspect of the crime
more than others. As a result of the pre-determined outcome of the report; it
must sate that Oswald acted alone, this was understood by all; any leads not
leading back to Oswald as the sole shooter, were given short shrift.
Commission investigator Jim Liebeler was a hard working
staff member. But he still found time to attempt the seduction of both Marina
Oswald and Silvia Odio; the Cuban woman in Texas who claimed to have seen
Oswald in the company of 2 other Latino men prior to the assassination. Silvia
Odio is a possible key to the unexplored portions of Oswald’s Mexico City trip.
The other Silvia in this story is Silvia Duran, who was
taken into custody within hours of the assassination by Mexican police at the
request of the CIA. She was beaten and tortured in an effort to find out what
she knew about Oswald and his activities there in Mexico.
All of these loose ends are what have Mr. Shenon concerned;
and rightfully so; that there are still unexplored leads to the murder of President
Kennedy in 1963. The latest ones involve Elena and Helena Garro, a mother
daughter team who claim to have attended a party at which Oswald was present in
Mexico prior to the assassination.
Whatever your beliefs about the Kennedy assassination may
be, this book delivers all of the excitement you have come to expect from the
crime which just won’t be solved. Mr. Shenon has done his homework well, and as
a result has delivered an exciting book about the scenes behind the Warren
Commission and the men who served on it.
In the end, it is also the story of the Warren Commission Report; a report which the Chief Justice for whom it was named refused to sign; and was only signed by Gerald Ford, who never believed it to be correct. And 11 years later he would become the first un-elected President of the United States.
