by W. Green
The others did not understand. He gave the toy a tiny kiss as if it was an old friend and gently, he placed it back into his pocket. “I got this when I was a little boy from a friend in 1963—a very nice man.” He laughed softly.
“Dr. Currant,” said Dufour. “I have another surprise for you. Someone has come a long way to be here.” He pointed to an area off the platform in a dark recess of the lab. On cue, someone walked into the bright lights. An older man approached. He did indeed look old—someone who, unlike Currant, wasn’t able to benefit from the miracle anti-aging cures that came on the market too late for him.
Current, still recovering from the effects of the return back to 2028, squinted his eyes—searching though his mental recesses for recognition. As the man neared, he looked familiar to A.C., but he could not say for sure. Then it came to him.
“Patrick?” he asked delicately.
“Yes, A.C.” said the man smiling gently.
Currant legs became shaky. He wavered for a moment. Then he reached out and the two men shook hands. He looked into his bother’s eyes and his own eyes filled with tears. He grabbed him and hugged him. After a long time, they separated. Currant reached into his pocket and pulled out the little car. “Remember this?”
Dr. Patrick MacAndrew Brennan held the toy and studied it. “I do remember. One day back in the mid-Sixties, Mom found five large cut diamonds hidden right here under the hood. They were worth quite a bundle in those days. Hey, you didn’t have anything to do with that did you?”
Currant smiled. “Just an ‘anonymous’ donor providing for the higher education of two poor kids from Louisiana who wanted to make a difference.”
“You always said this was your lucky charm. So it is. Thanks little brother.”
“A world famous cancer researcher.” Currant smiled broadly.
The old man nodded. “Some say.”
Dufour interjected. “He’s being too modest A.C. He wiped that scourge off the face of the planet.”
“My brother. My brother Patrick. You saved the life of a time cop named Joell. I’m very grateful for that. It’s so good to be with you.”
Patrick nodded without understanding.
The Twins and Zak smiled knowingly as the two brothers reached out and hugged each other again on the bridge of time.
“One more thing Patrick,” said Currant releasing his grip. He looked into his long-lost sibling’s eyes with a twinkle in his own. “Did you ever want to drive a red and white ’55 Chevy Bel Air convertible?”
Patrick Brennan smiled broadly. “Do you have one?”
“I do now brother. Let’s do it.”
“Hijole!,” said Zak. “A big hand for the Chevy boys.”
Everyone laughed and applauded.
Zak reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small envelope. Inside, neatly folded in half, was the strip of photos they had taken in Chicago. A.C. Currant, Ethan, Emma, and Zak stacked one atop the other in a timeless montage. “Check it out,” said Zak. “These beauties are 65 years old.”
Ethan snapped them from Zak’s hand and took a quick look. He smiled and nodded. “Everyone looks great. Thankfully your feet wouldn’t fit into the booth Emma.”
“What?”
“Just kidding.”
Emma looked down at her feet. “My feet aren’t too big. Are they?”
“Enormous,” said Ethan laughing. “Ask anyone in 1963. Enormous Sis. But I’ll bet they’ll look great in year 2058.”
“Warm up the TimeTravelle Dr. Currant,” said Emma. “Let’s send my dinosaur-brained brother back to the Stone Age.”
LOG of Zak Newman
January 1, 2029
Today is New Year’s Day, 2029. Good and bad people around the world are recalling the past and setting goals for the future. For better or worse, the Time Travel Twins, Dr. Currant and I did manage to modify The History. Somewhere, there is a time cop named Joell who owes his life to Patrick Brennan’s efforts to eliminate cancer. Brennan, the man who conquered cancer for all mankind, owes his life to his little brother, A.C. Currant. And thanks to Dr. Currant, Mr. Wright can walk again. That’s all good.
JFK is still dead. In the decades that have passed, his bones have been thoroughly worked over by his enemies—they say he was a philanderer—a drug user—a dangerous incompetent—easy on Communists—etc. etc. In time, the media seemed to ease up a little, presenting him more humanized. They showed a man with obvious weaknesses, but also someone with the strength to attempt to build bridges to boogey men enemies like the U.S.S.R. He was also a leader with a strong sense of human decency able to sanction and breathe life into the Civil Rights movement. Camelot was a public relations exercise, but President John F. Kennedy was not. He was a man who tried to make a difference.
The whole continuing assassination cover-up, while not a total bust, is now only an oft-told fairy tale called The Warren Commission Report. When the Chicago attempt to kill JFK failed, it opened the doors to Dallas and while the power structure did manage to kill the president, it was a mess. The whole JFK assassination package made no sense no matter how it was massaged by the media, the politicians and the spooks. Over the years, hundreds of books have been written exposing almost every detail and player in the conspiracy, but those authors have been consistently ignored by the major media or written off as kooks or fools. The JFK assassination has become our nation’s “elephant in the living room”—very obvious, painfully ignored, and the cause of great damage to the country. The American people suffer from attention deficit disorder, and as Emma says “they can’t handle the truth”. Maybe they could, but the corporate-owned media will never provide that opportunity. Emma also recommends the old movie Network—done in the 1970’s—for those who “are as mad as hell and can’t take it anymore”. I’ve seen it. The depressing thing is that it is still very relevant in 2029. The more things change...
Our reporter friend Quinn helped straighten out The History. For the rest of his life, he doggedly pursued the case and won the Pulitzer Prize for his efforts. His investigative work led to a Congressional Investigation in 1978—it spawned many additional ‘shut-them-up’ witness murders—and Congress ultimately declared the JFK killing “to be the result of a conspiracy”—of course the Justice Department and F.B.I. publicly ignored this revelation, but quietly, over time, they did lock up some of the bottom-of-the-pyramid conspirators—mostly mobsters. The politicians, military, governmental agents, and influential private citizens involved were left untouched. Quinn ended his career as a consultant to Oliver Stone for his JFK movie. The “Umbrella Man” lives on in that movie, and as an iconic mystery. Over time, several men have claimed to be the ‘bombastic bumbershooter’, but we know the real “Umbrella Man”. Of course Dr. Currant’s plan to make himself part of history failed because his ever-present fear of time-police keeps his eyes wide open, and his mouth shut. Once and while, people notice the resemblance—Currant can only chuckle and deny.
What else—Johnson didn’t get impeached. Even though he was a big crook and the most likely candidate for puppet master of the “Crime of the Century”. On November 22, 1963 some of his more obvious crimes were catching up with him. The big, bossy Texan had one foot in a jail cell on that day, but after JFK was conveniently eliminated, LBJ was in control of the country. Once in power, he quickly terminated all investigations that would expose his criminal alliance with Billy Sol Estes, mobsters and killers. He dreamed of becoming a great president like his idol Franklin Roosevelt, who would implement far-reaching, pork-filled, social programs, and who would conquer the inferior North Vietnamese by winning the war in a blaze of presidential glory. To do this, he mortgaged the financial and moral future of the country. Eventually, the Vietnam War shrunk his giant penis, testicles and ego. He scurried off the pages of history like a frightened rat.
And Richard Cain, our man in Chicago—he died like JFK—in 1973 they blew his head off. Two masked men entered a Chicago diner, told all the patrons, including
Cain, to line up against the wall, and then one of them fired a shotgun into Cain’s head. He fell to the floor and the other gave him a second head blast. His secrets died with him.
Another bad dude, J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the F.B.I., died in bed. The funeral was closed-casket. Rumor has it, he was buried in his favorite simple black sheath with a single string of pearls around his neck. Considering his treasonous actions, it should have been a rope.
Fidel Castro retained his little Caribbean Commie beachhead until he died of natural causes in 2015. Cuba is now a fine place to vacation—golfing, fishing, gambling, and entertainment—just like the 1950’s. The Chinese run Cuba’s offshore oil production and the little island is now one of the richest per capita places in the world. Others didn’t fare so well—58,236 dead soldiers in Vietnam, the 911 victims and millions of victims of American military muscle. Jack’s brothers Bobby and Teddy, Martin Luther King, Richard Nixon, Malcolm X, George Wallace, John Lennon, and Ronald Reagan got in the way of “progress”. They ignored the message of the ritual killing of JFK in 1963, and they paid the price. However, after Reagan, “the powers that be” put an end to domestic political “Executive Action”. Assassination is now an archaic and obsolete tool. There are no remaining political leaders to be killed. There’s no need to kill a corporate president, you just fire him and provide a golden parachute. Corporate America and the rest of the corporate political world rolls on, well-organized, in control, and feeding on its own greed and power. The days of individual, charismatic world leaders are over.
I hope Quinn enjoyed his life. I liked that man. To me, he exemplified the best of his generation—no B.S., do your job and stay true to your values. Before we came back to the future, we sent him that ‘Voice-O-Graph’ test recording that we made on State Street in Chicago sixty-five years ago. I think he always suspected we were different, but he trusted us and we trusted him. Dr. Currant included a note with the record telling Quinn to watch for the Microsoft IPO in 1986—buy as much stock as possible, even if he had to borrow the funds. We’re certain he followed our retirement investment advice. He died peacefully in his Key West oceanfront mansion—very nice indeed. Goodbye Mr. Quinn. Thanks.
Our time traveling is over for now. But as far as we know, by luck or design, we four travelers somehow accomplished much of what we set out to do. Maybe in the future we’ll go back to the past again. I can only hope. I’m getting a little bored again. I want to feel alive. Like I did in 1963. I ache for the rush of reality—the unpredictable wildness of an ocean of possibilities—the thrill of anticipating the unknown tomorrow. I crave all this and those delicious five-cent candy bars.
END LOG
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR and COMMENTARY BY THE AUTHOR
Bill Green is a Chicago-based architect and writer. At the age of 15, he watched Nixon sweat, and Kennedy strut in the televised debates. Sometime later, as a spectator of a Chicago motorcade, he waved to the new president who rode in the back of the open-topped Lincoln. JFK looked young and confident, and he flashed his million-dollar smile to the crowd that had gathered on the expressway overpass. Afterward, the author noted the lone policeman securing the bridge, and he wondered about presidential security or the lack of it. At the age of 18, he saw Oswald gunned down on television just two days after JFK was killed, and he thought that justice had been done. Then beginning in 1964, just after the issuance of the Warren Commission Report, the conspiracy onion began to be peeled. Over time, disturbing revelations seeped from beneath the thin skin of deceit. These painful emissions brought tears to the eyes of most Americans, including the author. The writing of this book is the culmination of many years of reading, research and contemplation. Independent researchers and brave “whistle-blowers” did the work that the government failed to do. It is never too late for the truth to prevail. The JFK crime is the “elephant” in our national living room. Let us admit this enormous, gray beast exists, and cast out all those who seek to divert our attention and keep it hidden. They are the killers of America
About Thomas Arthur Vallee and Lee Harvey Oswald —we know very little about Vallee except that he never harmed John Kennedy. His connection to the great history surrounding the assassination in Dallas remains neatly tucked into the police records as a single arrest, a search of his car and apartment, the discovery of rifles and ammunition, and the fact that he, just like Oswald, was an ex-Marine, owned weapons and worked in a building on the motorcade route. Beyond this, his motivations and connections are uncertain. As for Oswald, much is known. He was a young man who lived a complicated life. For certain, he has one significant commonality with Vallee—he never harmed John Kennedy. That the “Chicago Attempt” happened is proof positive of conspiracy and cover-up. Twenty days later, the identical tactics were employed in Dallas to execute President Kennedy.
The assassins who visited Chicago in early November 1963 and those who converged on Dallas later in the month cannot be named with certainty. The JFK assassination is surely now a very “cold case”. Had a real effort been made to hold and interrogate the assassins in Chicago, or to capture them in Dallas, normal police procedures could have been put in place. Their motives and their co-conspirators could have been revealed, and JFK might have lived. But, this never happened. Thanks to LBJ, Hoover, Ford, and many others, the shooters have disappeared down the “rabbit hole” of history. Those who executed the cover-up are dead or near dead. However, those who continue the “Oswald the Assassin” fiction are alive and well. You can find their work in historical textbooks, on television and in other mass media. The indifference of these party line promoting, nay-saying debunkers is broadly evident in Congress and the White House—“our representatives” who remain ignorant, impotent, insolent or worse.
Table of Contents
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1 --- The Time Machine
Chapter 2 --- Creating a Legend
Chapter 3 --- Field Trip to the Windy City
Chapter 4 -- -Secret Agendas
Chapter 5 --- Cub Reporters
Chapter 6 --- Meeting the Assassin
Chapter 7 -- -Friend or Foe
Chapter 8 -- -The Brothers
Chapter 9 -- -A Crowded Rendezvous
Chapter 10 --The Reporter Reports
Chapter 11 -- Technological Trouble
Chapter 12 -- Is Cain Able?
Chapter 13 -- Long Live the King
Chapter 14 -- There’s No Place Like Home
Chapter 15 -- Cite’ Masque
Chapter 16 -- Boys Night Out
Chapter 17 -- The Other Brothers
Chapter 18 -- Saving PMB
Chapter 19 -- A Rose by Any Other Name
Chapter 20 -- Shooting Fish in a Barrel
Chapter 21 -- Lone Nuts in a Lone Star State of Mind
Chapter 22 -- Matryoshki
Chapter 23 -- Ruby—Don’t Take Your Love to Town
Chapter 24 -- Return to the Rabbit Hole
Chapter 25 -- 2028 Redux
About the Author and Commentary by the Author
