Justification For Killing

by Larry Edward Hunt

  “Quick Rocky, get a picture! I know it’s a Cadillac, but I don’t know what year or model. Get a picture, we can identify it later.”

  “I’ll get the picture LJ, you just don’t lose that car.”

  As the black Cadillac pulled away from the bus stop with Lee Harvey Oswald, the Cadillac driver did not realize just a few hundred yards behind was a unpretentious, black 1954 four-door municipal Ford sedan, following quietly and unobtrusively. The destination was the Texas Theater only 1.4 miles away. The route the Cadillac took was straightforward – down North Beckley to West Jefferson, turn right, and the Texas Theater was but a short distant on the right.

  At the corner of West Neely Street and North Beckley, a uniformed policeman stepped out into the road and held up his hand gesturing for the Ford to stop as Lonnie Joe and Rocky approached. Lonnie Joe removed his foot from the accelerator and gently touched the brake. Slowing down they pulled the car up to the officer, rolled down the window and inquired as to the delay. “Got a report of a gas leak on the next block”, he said authoritatively, “you folks will have to go back to the next street East Canty, cut over to Zang Boulevard and proceed on your way from there.” The Cadillac they were following had preceded them by only a few seconds. Obviously, the police officer had allowed it to drive through.

  “But, officer, I don’t see any emergency vehicles along the street. Shouldn’t there be someone from the gas company checking this out?” Both Lonnie Joe and Rocky assumed this ‘police officer’ was not a real Dallas policeman, obviously he was stationed on the street to keep people away from the Texas Theater. Why? Maybe Oswald was meeting his contact there, and his CIA ‘handler’ did not want to be seen and identified?

  “We are on our way to another job, we work for Dallas City Services maybe we could take a look at the leak? It sounds serious.” Lonnie Joe said, knowing full well neither he nor Rocky could even light a gas pilot light.

  “The gas company repairmen are on their way – now turn this vehicle around and head back to East Canty Street as I said, or I’m goin’ have to give you a ticket.”

  “Okay, okay we get the message... loud and clear... we’ll turn around, but if the place blows up don’t blame us... we tried to help!”

  By the time, Lonnie Joe and Rocky had detoured around the block between West Neely Street and West Davis Street they had lost sight of the black Cadillac. “What should we do?” asked Lou.

  “Let’s just get over to Zang Boulevard and head for the Texas Theater. We know that is their destination.”

  Approximately ten blocks down Zang the Boulevard dead-ends into West Jefferson. The Texas Theater was located at 231 West Jefferson Boulevard. A right turn and they saw the Cadillac parked at the curb close to the theater. A couple of turns on the Ford’s steering wheel had them parked a couple hundred feet from the Texas Theater also. Far enough away to be unnoticed, but close enough to see everything going on. Switching the motor off, Lonnie Joe and Rocky watched as Lee Harvey Oswald got out and walked up to the cashier, purchased a ticket and entered the theater.

  “LJ, I thought the official story was Oswald slipped into the theater. That was the reason the police were notified. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yeah, Rocky that is the way it was reported. Obviously that was a fabrication on someone’s part also.”

  THE TEXAS THEATER

  Julia Portal, the Texas Theater cashier, only sold twenty-four tickets to the afternoon showing of Battle Cry, starring Van Heflin. It was just as well, she was spending her entire shift sitting in her booth listening to the President Kennedy news on KRLD, 1080 A.M., a local Dallas radio station. Testifying before the Warren Commission Miss Portal stated she did not know whether she sold Lee Harvey Oswald a ticket or not. She admitted she was paying more attention to the assassination news on her radio than who was purchasing tickets. When questioned about anyone who might have acted suspicious she at first said she did not remember anyone, then quickly added, “Oh yeah, there was this one fellow – he got out of a big ole black limousine car”. When asked if the car might have been a four-door Cadillac she answered, “Yes, I suppose it could have been a Cadillac.”

  The Warren Commission investigator asked, “Did you sell this man a ticket?”

  She answered, “No, I don’t think so but I might have.”

  When asked at what time the man in the black car arrived she answered, “Best I can remember it was a little after one o’clock.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Well, Butch Burroughs the concession stand operator said it was just a few minutes after one o’clock. Anyway, the police were called, and they arrived and arrested the man, Lee Harvey Oswald, I suppose.”

  “You called the police?”

  “No, I don’t know who called, but it wasn’t me.”

  Watching as the Cadillac pulled up to the Texas Theater, and Lee Harvey Oswald enters the theater, Lonnie Joe and Rocky knew the rest of the scenario. The police would arrive and arrest Lee Harvey Oswald.

  “You know,” said LJ. “I’ve been sitting here giving this some thought. I believe Oswald was supposed to have been killed by Officer Tippit. And I believe that other guy in the patrol car was supposed to shoot Tippit, but things did not work out. Now I believe their fall back plan was to have Oswald killed in this theater, but something goes wrong here too. What do you think Rocky?”

  “I dunno LJ, that’s too much figuring for me. What I seriously think is we need to get out of here and head back to the Ponderosa and meet up with Captain Scarburg.”

  The earlier phone call from Forrest said that he, the Captain and Olive Marie had just left the parking lot behind the Dal-Tex building and was heading back to Clem and Penelope’s Ponderosa. Now it was time for Lonnie Joe and Rocky to do the same.

  The time was 1:41 p.m., Friday, November 22, 1963.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  BACK TO THE COW PASTURE

  “Hey Sis get on the phone to Grandpa. I see a congregation of police cars at the intersection of Texas Highway 77 and U.S. Highway 183 a mile or two in front of us. Call Grandpa, quick, he might want to ditch his .45 caliber pistol he is carrying.”

  The traffic on 77 began to slow to a crawl; Olive Marie relayed the troublesome news to Grandpa Scarburg. If he were worried, he didn’t act like it, but he did call Bud and Lou. “Bud,” he said, “where are you all...? Good... say you’re just leaving the Tippit murder scene...? Okay... listen, the police must be setting up roadblocks all around downtown Dallas. I’m just approaching Highway 77 and Highway 183. Looks like the whole Texas Highway Patrol, Texas Rangers and Dallas City police are up here... No... I think we will be okay... they will be looking for someone matching Oswald’s description, and we don’t fit. No... no... we will be fine... but listen... get back over on North Beckley Street, drive north until it intersects with U.S. Highway 30. Turn left on 30 and go about two or three miles until you see West Mockingbird Lane. Turn right on it and follow it north until you come to the airport at Dallas’s Love Field. This route will take you around the downtown area and all the police. Once you all get to the airport pull into the main parking lot and park somewhere in the middle of all the cars. Call Lonnie Joe and give him the same instructions. You both must get rid of those two stolen 1954 Ford municipal cars. They are like having a bull’s eye painted on them. Forrest, Olive Marie and I will pick you guys up at the airport. Good luck.”

  Slowly the old green, pick-up truck and the Jeep inched their way toward the Texas Ranger standing in the road checking vehicles. Olive was so nervous she could not even voice her opinion to Forrest – she had to be truly scared and extremely nervous to stop talking. All she could see was the Ranger, his shiny badge over his left pocket and the .45 Colt strung low on his right hip. Yes, she was afraid.

  Captain Scarburg, driving behind Forrest, knew he had not spoken the truth to Bud – he was worried, real worried.

  A couple of the Rangers were talking to Forrest; another was walking ar
ound the truck giving it a thorough going over. The Captain sat solemnly watching, not daring to breathe. How long had he been holding his breath, he could not tell. Finally, they gave an arm wave to Forrest allowing him to move forward through the police roadblock. It was now the Jeep’s turn.

  “Good afternoon sir, we hate to bother you – may I see your driver’s license,” the police officer asked as Captain Scarburg extracted the fabricated DMV license the SCAR team had prepared before he left SCAR headquarters.

  “Is something wrong, Officer?”

  “Where you been mister? In outer space! Don’t you know they killed President Kennedy this afternoon? We’re checking all vehicles for his killer.”

  “Oh, sure... yeah right... I just thought you all would have the criminals in jail by now.”

  “You ain’t got no rifle in this Jeep do you... uh... uh... (looking at the Captain’s license) Mr. Scarburg?”

  “Nope, no rifle, got me a pistol there in that glove box tho’.”

  Opening the glove box the patrolmen pulled out the Colt .45 automatic pistol. Turned the barrel end to his nose and sniffed. “Hey, this thing’s been fired lately! Right mister?”

  “Sure nuff, and if you ain’t careful your gonna lose the end of your nose. I got a full clip of bullets in that thang, and its cocked and locked,” Grandpa said laying on the Texas accent as thick as possible. “Darn them there coyotes... I wish I could’ve shot ’em all!!”

  “Yeah, don’t blame you there Mr. Scarburg, those varmints are pesky little critters... here’s your gun back... y’all have a good day now, ya’ hear,” the officer said waving Captain Scarburg through the checkpoint.

  Driving down the road, the Captain wondered if his heart were going to resume beating or was an untimely demise forthcoming. Before he had a chance to give his heart more thought, he saw Forrest’s truck in front of him making its turn toward Love Field. In the main parking lot they parked next to one another to await Lonnie Joe, Rocky, Lou and Bud to arrive; within the hour Lonnie and Rocky rolled in. Rocky got into the Ford truck with Forrest and Olive Marie. Lonnie Joe rode shotgun with the Captain in the little Army’s finest. “We’ll give them another thirty minutes, then we must go,” commented Captain Scarburg. For the next half hour, they all nervously kept glancing at their watches. Forrest made some comment about a watched pot never boiling, but despite their constant vigilance Bud and Lou never arrived. “Try reaching them by phone,” the Captain said to Olive Marie.

  “We can’t,” answered Lonnie Joe, “we’re more’n five miles from the Texas School Book Depository. We are outside the range of our cell phones.”

  “POLICE SIRENS... LISTEN”

  Bud and Lou had just turned onto West Mockingbird Lane heading for Love Field when Lou remarked, “Bud you hear that?”

  “What Lou? No, I don’t. What is it?”

  “Bud, I think I hear police sirens somewhere behind us, listen.”

  As they both strained to hear the faint noise, the sound began to get louder. Within a moment or two it was definite, the sounds they could hear were sirens, police sirens approaching from their rear, and fast.

  “What do we do, Bud?” Asked Lou.

  “I guess we’re caught – nothing we can do but surrender once the police catch up, but be careful Lou, if they think for a minute we are part of the assassination plot we might get shot on the spot, no questions asked. Remember these are Texans we are dealing with – they shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “Bud? What are we going to tell them? Should we just make up something or try to tell them the truth?”

  “Lou are you nuts? You know what we are going to do — we’re going to lie like we have never lied before! There won’t be anyone that would believe we are time travelers from the year 2012. Lie, Lou... lie and act like you believe it.”

  The sirens on the police cars were rapidly approaching. The little black Ford had just rounded a curve in the road. Bud thought by the time they were on the straight away past the curve the police cars would be on them. “Oh well, we gave it our best shot Lou.”

  Bud was correct; from around the curve the police cars appeared first one, then another, then another, three cruisers in all. Sirens blaring full blast and their red lights flashing like lights on a Christmas tree.

  “I guess I might as well pull over to the side of the road and stop. We’re caught! No reason for them to chase us any farther. We surely cannot out run them.” The police cars were narrowing the gap between themselves and Bud and Lou until they were practically on the stolen 1954 Ford municipal car. Bud began to inch the Ford toward the emergency lane when all of a sudden... What! What is happening? The police cars pulled over into the left passing lane and one by one they blasted by like three bats out of Hades without even the hint of noticing Bud and Lou. Obviously, they were heading somewhere else; Bud and Lou were not their objective - this time.

  NORTH TO THE PONDEROSA

  Back out on the Dallas Freeway the truck and Army Jeep were finally headed north to Celina and the safety of the Ponderosa. Rocky had climbed into the cab with Forrest and Olive Marie. Lonnie Joe was riding in the open air Jeep with the Captain. Sadly, they waited in vain - Bud and Lou never showed up.

  The further north they traveled the more snow they found on the roadway from the recent blizzard of a couple of days earlier. The roads were quite passable and were not in the least bit hazardous to drive on; however, the recent snowfall covering the ground had dropped the temperature to a very cold, bone-chilling level. The two in the Jeep were about to freeze to death.

  The fortunate thing, if anything could have been fortunate at this particular time, with the traffic flowing freely on the highway leading to Celina, Celina was only about an hour’s drive away. One-hour, Captain Scarburg thought, and they would be sitting in front of Clem and Penelope’s roaring fireplace, warm and toasty drinking hot coffee and chocolate.

  As they pulled up to the front door of the Ponderosa Forrest honked the truck’s horn. The Captain did likewise with the horn on the Jeep.

  Before they got out of their vehicles and into the five or six inches of snow that remained, Clem and Penelope stood waiting for them on the front porch. Lady’s ears perked up. She recognized the Captain and raced down the porch and bounded across the snow and into his waiting arms. “Durn that little dog,” said Clem grinning, “she thanks more of the Captain, than she does us.” Laughing Penelope looked at Clem and agreed.

  “Come on, you all...git yerselfs into this house. I’ve got a big pot of fresh, hot coffee, and iffin you all will wait a tetch supper is almost ready. Come on in Captain... you’ve got some more folks with y’all that me and Clem ain’t seed afore. Howdy there Forrest and Olive Marie, good to see ya both agin.”

  Inside Grandpa introduced Lonnie Joe and Rocky. He told Clem and Penelope about his other grandsons Bud and Lou who had preceded him to Dallas. He also explained they had failed to meet him at the rendezvous point at Dallas’s Love Field. Forrest returned the chauffeur and waitress outfits they had ‘borrowed’, and at the same time apologized for the deceit he and Olive Marie had pulled on them. “I’m sorry for getting your clothes Clem and Penelope, but we had an urgent need for them, and you both were sleeping, so we did not want to wake you up so early. We’re sorry, they were perfect for the job we had to do.”

  “Oh, no need to apologize Forrest, we’s glad to lend’em to y’all.”

  Lonnie Joe nodded to Clem when introduced. As he was being introduced he reached out and took Penelope’s hand. “It is nice finally to meet you Miss Penelope – Captain Scarburg has told us so much about you.” Not perceived by the rest of the group, a spark was ignited in Penelope’s eye as she grasped Lonnie Joe’s hand. Lonnie Joe felt the same romantic, electrical spark.

  Oh, hes so much more handsome in person than on that Iphony of the Captains, she thought. “Why thank you Mr. Wheeler, I hope everythin’ he told you was good,” she said smiling.

  “After seeing you M
iss Penelope, I couldn’t imagine anything but nice things could have been said about you.” He quickly caught himself, “Oh, and about your brother Clem too.”

  “Mr. Wheeler, you come on in this house and git up there by the farplace and git yerself warm while I go git you a hot cup of coffee.”

  After everyone else had found a comfortable, warm spot around the fireplace, and was sipping their hot drinks Clem asked, “Thar’s jez one thang I wants to know. What was so gall darned important you had to git to Dallas so quick?”

  “Clem,” asked the Captain. “Haven’t you watched television today?”

  “Naw, we had to plug it in to git it to come on, well that plug in thang don’t work no more. You know Captain, I’s a fix-it man, but I jest ain’t had time to get around to fixin’ hit.

  “You no’s what they say ‘bout the plumber and mechanic don’t you John? They’s got leakin’ pipes at home and their cars won’t run. Clems right in there with’em,” said Penelope sitting next to the fireplace.

  “So you haven’t been keeping up with the news today? It that about right Clem?”

  “Yes sir, you got hit right. We ain’t hear’d a bit of news since yesterdee. Has somethin’ happened we should’ve no’d about.”

  “Clem, get me a screwdriver, a pair of wire cutters and some electrical tape, and I will tell you a story.”

  He would have asked Penelope for the items, but she and Lonnie Joe were huddled up close to the fire, heads close together whispering to each other.

  As he began repairing the television’s electrical plug he began to explain, “Today about 12:30 someone shot and killed the President of the United States John F. Kennedy. They assassinated him in Dealy Plaza, in Dallas.”