George Boesch was another cadet who recalled Oswald as one of the twelve to fifteen students who attended meetings at Moisant Airport when Ferrie was the instructor.40 Colin Hamer, now with the New Orleans Public library, also attended meetings at Moisant Airport, which were run by Ferrie. He recalled Oswald attended these meetings helmed by Ferrie that summer of 1955.41 Ferrie himself later admitted to teaching Oswald in the CAP. In June of 1964, Thomas Lewis Clark worked for Ferrie at his filling station on Veteran’s Highway. After Ferrie sold that station, Clark continued to work with him at Saturn Aviation. On one occasion, Ferrie and Clark discussed Lee Oswald. According to Clark, Ferrie said that he had been Oswald’s instructor in the CAP.42 So it was only natural for Oswald to look up some of his former CAP friends when he returned to New Orleans in the spring of 1963. As we shall see, this is what happened.
But the David Ferrie that Oswald met up with again was not the same man from 1955. Towards the end of the fifties, Ferrie caught a disease called alopecia totalis. This caused his hair to fall out in clumps. Before long, all the hair on his body, including his eyebrows and eyelashes was gone. He hand fashioned a crude wig for his head and used grease pencils to draw in ersatz eyebrows. As the fifties ended, Ferrie began to further grow his violent political temperament. He finally fulfilled this by becoming a contract agent for the CIA, flying missions over Cuba.43 Ferrie developed an obsession for the regime of Fidel Castro. This led him to become more intertwined with the Agency and its underground Cuban exile community in New Orleans. He bombed targets inside of Cuba at the request of former Cuban Congressman Eladio del Valle. Del Valle was linked to the CIA, Santo Trafficante, and Senator George Smathers.44
But in the early sixties, two things happened to Ferrie that managed to turn his life in New Orleans upside down. First, along with Sergio Arcacha Smith, Ferrie was part of the CIA training and preparations for the Bay of Pigs. When that operation fizzled, Ferrie was devastated. Secondly, he got into trouble with his CAP duties that ended up costing him his pilot job at Eastern Air Lines. One night, Ferrie got intoxicated and, trying to impress a young man, he borrowed a plane and went for a joy ride. He flew very low to the ground, at treetop level. FAA officials were awaiting him at the airport when he touched down. They set in motion an effort to pull his pilot’s license.45 Ferrie also was expelled from the CAP. He insisted on sleeping in the cabin with the teenage cadets, and threw a beer party on the beach for the troop. Both were violations of CAP rules. Once he left the CAP, Ferrie started his own flying club for teenage boys, holding meetings at his home. Ferrie eventually was dismissed from Eastern Air Lines. As Jerry Paradis told the HSCA, he knew Ferrie was quite bitter about losing his job, which was well paying and allowed him to live a comfortable life. For instance, in 1961, Ferrie was living in a three-level house near New Orleans International Airport, where he worked. Ferrie lived with his mother on the main floor. This is where he held air patrol meetings. The top floor was David’s domain. It contained a medical library, a psychiatric couch, and medical equipment like microscopes. In the basement were the sawed-off remains of a World War II fighter plane, which Ferrie used as a teaching tool to simulate flying for his students. When Oswald re-contacted his old friend in 1963, Ferrie apparently could not afford the house anymore. He was living in a second level apartment on Louisiana Avenue Parkway in uptown New Orleans. As we shall see, in this time period, Ferrie grew more and more obsessed with Cuba and fighting communists.
Clay Bertrand Hires a Lawyer for Oswald
Dean Andrews was a short, roly-poly New Orleans attorney who walked with a jaunt and spoke in an offbeat manner, using words like “Daddy-o” and “cool cat” and “my man.”46 It was hard to see exactly what he looked like because he wore a set of oversized sunglasses through which he could see the world but no one could see him. He wore them constantly, indoors and out, no matter what the weather.
Andrews was not an upper-echelon, corporate lawyer. He had a small office in an older office building and was not above letting clients and friends buy him lunch. Heavyset, he suffered from a heart condition, which he did little to counter. Much of his practice dealt with morals charges like prostitution—including homosexual prostitution—and he also did immigration work. He did not deal with deep-south high society, which might help explain his demeanor. It certainly explains his clientele, which included many Hispa-nics and poor whites. In the summer and fall of 1963, both groups called on him for services that would lead him into unwanted prominence, and later into perjury.
Sometime in late May, a group of young Hispanic youths, or as Andrews called them, “gay Mexicanos,” were brought into his office. They were with a slender white man of medium height.47 Andrews knew the man who had sent the “gay Mexicanos,” a Clay Bertrand. He agreed to represent the youngsters on charges of lewd behavior. During his testimony, Warren Commission counsel Wesley Liebeler asked if by “gay” he meant they were homosexual. Andrews replied they were. After the youths left, the other man—Lee Oswald—stuck around and chatted with the attorney about some of his own legal problems: his military discharge (which had been lowered to undesirable because of his defection), his own citizenship, and the citizenship of his Russian wife. Andrews told him that they were not serious problems. They would be easy to solve. Some Oswald could handle himself. He advised him where to get the proper forms and how much it would cost. Andrews said that Oswald visited his office three to five times that summer. Once was with one of the gay boys who accompanied him the first time. He said he also saw him leafleting downtown on Canal Street. Interestingly, Oswald told Andrews he was being paid to do a job.48 Andrews did not see Oswald again after that time.
Liebeler noted that Andrews was appearing under a subpoena that compelled him to bring any documents relating to his work with Oswald. Andrews replied he had none since his office had been rifled right after the assassination.49
A few months after meeting Oswald, Andrews was in the hospital. He received a call from an acquaintance named Clay Bertrand.50 Bertrand called him occasionally to defend his friends who, like the young Latins, got involved in minor scrapes or morals charges. Andrews told Liebeler that he assumed that Bertrand was the man who sent him the young boys and Oswald. Unlike most of his other clients, Bertrand was not lower class, poor, or indigent. He was well off, educated, respected. He occupied a different social stratum, so much so that Andrews rarely saw him, “he is mostly a voice on the phone.”51 He was calling Andrews now because he knew someone in Dallas who needed his services. It was the man with the previous citizenship problem. His name was Lee Oswald, and he was accused of murdering John F. Kennedy.
In an interesting yet little noted part of this interview, Liebeler—who had reviewed all the FBI documents on Andrews—asked the witness if he recalled telling an FBI agent if Bertand had come into his office with Oswald.52 Andrews did not actually deny it. He said that he did not remember it, which is interesting because, right after this, Andrews said that he had seen Bertrand about six weeks before and he had run away from him. Liebeler then asked if Bertrand was simply a figment of his imagination. To which Andrews replied that this is what the FBI wanted him to say. And he had been badgered by them so much that he told them to “Write what you want, that I am nuts. I don’t care.”53 And it is clear that, as we will see, Andrews was being worn down. As Liebeler later noted, in his December, 1963 FBI report he described Bertrand as being six foot, two inches. Yet on the day of his testimony, July 21, 1964, he said he was five foot, eight inches. Clearly, Andrews was trying to discount his ability to ID the man. But there is little doubt that Bertrand did call him to defend Oswald. For Andrews then called a lawyer friend of his named Monk Zelden to go to Dallas for him instead. Zelden let him know he would not be going because Oswald had been killed.54
The Clinton-Jackson Incident
Banister pistol whipping Martin on the day of the assassination after Martin cast aspersions over his role in the JFK murder; David Ferrie searching franti
cally to see if Oswald had his library card or if there was a picture depicting him with the accused assassin; Clay Bertrand calling Dean Andrews to defend a previous client he likely had forwarded him and who was now accused of killing President Kennedy. All of these incriminating events took place in New Orleans within a few short days after Kennedy was killed in Dallas. Perhaps no one noticed a pattern in these seemingly unconnected events because the individuals involved seemed themselves so unconnected. But if the authorities had dug a bit deeper and traced their travel and their associations in the New Orleans area that summer, they would have found such a connection: a time and a place that linked three of the main characters and (more than) several credible witnesses who could have testified to their association.
Edwin Lee McGehee was a town barber in Jackson, Louisiana. It was late summer and as the afternoon rolled on and the temperature decreased, he decided to turn off the air conditioning.55 He then walked over and opened the door to his shop. He was alone so as he returned inside, he plumped down in his barber chair. As he did, he heard—but did not see—a car pull up and then a door slam. A young man who McGehee had never seen before now walked inside. Upon entering, the visitor said “A barbershop is a good place for a haircut and some information.” As McGehee got out of the chair, the young man slid into it. Edwin began to clip his hair, and the customer now asked if there were any jobs available in Jackson. The barber replied that there were few opportunities. Oswald suggested the local hospital. The formal title of which was the East Louisiana State Hospital. Informally it was called “East.” (This is the same mental hospital Rose Cheramie was taken to.) The barber said, “Do you know that is a mental hospital?” Oswald acted surprised, “Oh?” Recovering, the young man now queried the barber, “Do they have all kinds of jobs over there? Such as an electrician job?” Edwin said they likely did. But he then added that if he wanted to secure employment, he would probably have to get a reference from a local political representative. In that regard, Edwin recommended he see his friend Reeves Morgan who was a state legislator from the area. Oswald got up and complemented him on the haircut. McGehee then gave him directions to Reeves Morgan’s home. Edwin also told him that it probably would help if he was a registered voter in the parish. If he did that, he would have to go to the voter registrar’s office in nearby Clinton. After the young man left, McGehee went to the sink to wash his hands. Looking through the window, he could see that the car that pulled up was now gone. For New Orleans DA Jim Garrison, Edwin identified his customer that day as Lee Harvey Oswald.
It was now evening and the air was thinning out. There was no trash service at his rural Jackson home, so Reeves Morgan decided to burn some trash in his fireplace. His son Van was playing outside in the front yard. His daughter Mary was in the house.56 From his front window, Reeves saw the headlights of a car pull up the driveway of his home. A knock came to his front door, and the young man was let in. As the visitor stepped inside and began speaking, Mary walked by him to the freezer on the front porch.57 He introduced himself as Lee Oswald. He asked Reeves if he could assist him in obtaining a position as an electrician at the hospital. The local representative replied that he could not place him ahead of his Clinton and Jackson constituents. Morgan then advised him that he would probably have to take a civil-service test, and if he were a registered voter in the parish, that would give him some extra points on it. Oswald then left and Morgan heard the car drive away. Young Van, who had been playing outside, recalled being impressed by the length and look of the car, which he recalled as a black Cadillac. He thought they must be important people. He also noted that the driver of the car, who stayed inside it, had a shock of white hair.58 Reeves Morgan later identified this visitor to Jim Garrison as Lee Harvey Oswald.
Clinton and Jackson are neighboring small agricultural villages about 90 minutes northwest of New Orleans in Feliciana Parish. That summer of 1963, the civil rights movement was picking up steam everywhere in the South, and in Clinton a major drive to register voters, sponsored by the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), was taking place. The tension between the Afro-American CORE workers and the local whites had been demonstrated in a series of articles in the Baton Rouge States Times in mid-August.59 Most of the town’s adult population was out on that September day. They congregated around the registrar’s office. Blacks wanted to prevent any intimidation by whites to stop African-American registration; whites were checking on any possible outsiders rolling into town to organize and encourage the drive.
They were concerned, therefore, when—following Reeves Morgan’s advice—the large black Cadillac drove into Clinton in the midst of the CORE registration drive. One of the first to notice the car that morning was the local CORE leader, a man named Corrie Collins.60 The conspicuous car parked across from the registrar’s office on Helena Street. Collins watched as a young white male emerged from the back of the car and entered the registration line. Oswald was notable not just because of the car he arrived in, but because, aside from Estes Morgan, he was the only white man to try and register that day.61 In tongue-in-cheek acknowledgement of their singularity, while waiting in line, Morgan told Oswald that they would probably not get to register that day since they were white. Oswald replied that he was probably correct.62 Henry Brown, another witness to the incident, said that the wait got so long that Estes Morgan actually sat in the car at one point.63
The local registrar was a man named Henry Earl Palmer. He was open only two and a half days per week, on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday morning. Palmer opened at 8:30. On this day, at about 10:30, he decided to go downstairs to buy a cup of coffee.64 As he did, Palmer could not help but notice Oswald in line. And he also noted Collins watching the black Cadillac. Town residents like Andrew Dunn, James Bell, Charlotte Greenup, Verla Bell, and William Dunn all noted the car. Greenup later said that the car stayed there for hours.65 CORE worker James Bell was asked why he so vividly recalled the car. He said that, “When you’re working for CORE, you begin to try to read people and automobiles as fast as you can.”66 Robert Thomas noticed the car with “white men in it.” Eddie Lee Spears recalled the black car in Clinton with three white men sitting inside.67
Henry Burnell Clark was a twnety-nine-year-old grocery clerk who had just stepped out in front of the Stewart and Carroll store a little before the noon hour. He saw “coming from the direction of the bank, east of the store, and walking in a westerly direction toward me, a tall man in a dark business suit …. He approached facing me, to a distance of about ten or twelve feet from me, and stepped off into the street.” Clark then said that he entered the black car parked at the curb. Clark had a solid memory of this man since, “He reminded me of a movie actor I remembered seeing on the screen, and because he was unusually tall, standing well over six feet.”68 In fact, when Jim Garrison read Clark’s description, he wrote the name of actor Jeff Chandler on the back of it. But further, Clark also recalled a strange looking individual using the pay phone that day. He remembered him because of his “unusual hair” which, “stood up in all directions on his head.”69 When shown photos of Clay Shaw and David Ferrie, Henry Burnell Clark positively identified them as the respective men that he clearly remembered.
Palmer and Elizabeth Graham later noted that they thought Oswald talked to two females. One was Gladys Palmer and the other was Gloria Wilson.70 Palmer now walked over to local sheriff John Manchester. He told Manchester that he should get an ID on the driver and a license check on the car. As a result, Manchester walked over to the black Cadillac, around it, and asked the driver to show him some identification. The driver took out his driver’s license. As Manchester handled it, he asked him what his business was in the area. The driver then told him that he was a representative of the International Trade Mart in New Orleans. Manchester did not know what this was. So he then asked him if he had anything to do with the voter registration drive. The driver said that he did not. Manchester decided he was not there as an outside influence. Looking over the lice
nse, the sheriff asked him what his name was. The driver said it was Clay Shaw. This corresponded to the driver’s license. Manchester was satisfied and walked away.71 Manchester would later also identify the passenger as David Ferrie. He then walked over to Palmer and told him what he had found out from the brief interview. Palmer, like Manchester, was puzzled by what a man who worked for the International Trade Mart would be doing there.72
As Verla Bell noted, the black auto stayed around for hours. In mid-afternoon, Palmer set about on another shift of processing applicants. When he finally got to Oswald, Palmer asked for identification papers. Oswald produced what Palmer later called “separation papers” from the Marines. These had a local address in New Orleans on them. This, of course, made it hard to believe that Oswald would drive over a hundred miles just to register to vote in a parish he did not inhabit. Consequently, Palmer now asked Oswald where he lived. He said he lived at the hospital. Palmer now asked him who he was living with there. There is confusion as to how Oswald replied. Palmer said, “He told me— I’m not positive about this name—but I think he said, Doctor Person.”73 In the journal that Life reporter Richard Billings kept on the Garrison investigation, he wrote that Garrison had determined that Oswald said he was living with a Cuban doctor named Frank Silva.74 What is astonishing about these replies— whichever is correct—is this: Both men did work at East at that time. For when the HSCA subpoenaed a list of doctors employed from that hospital in 1963, both a Malcolm Pierson and Frank Silva were on it.75
Destiny Betrayed: JFK, Cuba, & the Garrison Case Page 14
