Journey to the JFK Funeral, part 3

(previously posted on Facebook)

-The semi, semi-final segment of the apparently unlimited series on my trip to President Kennedy's funeral is here. Thought I could finish it now, but Barbara has chores for us. Promise I'll finish this before the end of the next century! Here's the next part.-


My older brother Johnny, and Chuck Higbee, a nephew - only boy in the Izzy and Dallas Higbee family - located the end of a long, long line of mourners wanting to say farewell to this young, groundbreaking Catholic President, killed by an assassin during a Presidential motorcade in Dallas.


Young Chuck and I drove from Charleston, where I had gone from school in Morgantown once the Governor had cancelled all classes for, first a week, then extended by another by Vice-President Lyndon B. Johnson, who had assumed the Presidency once Kennedy's death was confirmed. 
We arrived in Summersville that evening to get brother Johnny, slept a few hours at my family's home, then left at I dawn, the morning of November 24, 1963.


As we arrived in Washington after a long drive through the Alleghenies, and eased down the GW Parkway onto the highway that passed by Arlington Cemetery, moving toward National Airport (not Reagan" National, as it was later ... ridiculously... named by the minions of a President who had suffered a minor flesh-wound during a shooting during his time in office) we noticed the first minor sign of what was up: the highways leading from the airport to the Shirley Highway bridge into the district was an unending line of black limousines bearing the fender flags of foreign leaders. The Governor of our state had a nice, sedate, sterling silver West Virginia seal on the rear doors of his car ... these guys wanted attention! 


So, as we spent the entire night before the President's funeral, in a line of what was - all together, a reported 400,000 souls, mostly from the eastern seaboard but as we discovered in the give and take of a thoroughly somber-but-cold crowd, charming, and who loved to hear our stories about Kennedy in the Mountain State (because he died so soon after his election everybody knew about that WV Primary!).
 Often during the night bladders weakened, needs had to be met. Along the not-quite-dark, heavily-guarded streets were rows of lovely old, ungodly expensive townhouses that were popular when FDR and IKE were in office, but indescribably expensive now.


We had all held our "stuff" as long as we could. Chuck, way too young to do any drinking other than a swallow of water being passed out by Red Cross folks, could squeeze it up, 
I had more issues, but some tolerance. Johnny had very little.
So, we each pealed off the line periodically- as needed. Johnny more often.
Noticeably on one occasion, he headed back behind a small mansion for a badly-needed whiz. Just as he disappeared behind the corner of the house, a seemingly-kennel of barking preceded his retreat-gripping his crotch. Big $@&€%# dogs yapping at his heels!


This long night was going to have even further complications.

-Sorry, have to run, no time for edits now, return again tomorrow,-

Journey to the JFK Funeral, part 2

(previously posted on Facebook)

Preparing for cool weather, we loaded up my Spider with thermos' of hot coffee that Gladys McClung made fresh. Johnny, thoughtfully, grabbed a quart of scotch from the Major's liquor cabinet as we him at Ft Meade, (the assassination had placed the entire Federal City on high-alert, forcing ranked-officers like him to be placed in duty for the foreseeable future - he was at the Pentagon, I believe) and left for Capitol Hill.

The First Lady, with the help of Attorney General Robert F Kennedy and his brother-in-law, R. Sargent Shriver, new Director of one of the late President's pet projects -the Peace Corps - had personally made every arrangement for the entire post-assassination official schedule - down to who would stand where, all flowers at the White House, and every pallbearer. I have read that she set all personal trauma aside in order to insure that the slain President was given the historic burial this historic tragedy his life deserved. From our personal perspective, and that of the world television audience, Jacqueline Kennedy surpassed everyone's expectations. 
The President's body - in a closed coffin, as his injuries were said to be impossible to would lie in state in the East Room of the White House for 24 hours, for visits by foreign heads of state and American dignitaries, then be transported on Sunday, November 24, 1963, to Capitol Hill - on a horse-drawn wagon - as President Abraham Lincoln had been, so Members of Congress could pay their respects.

Johnny, Chuck and I left Brother Boniface's residence at Ft George Gordon Meade ( after a fine leader of Lincoln's Union Army) headed down the George Washington Parkway, exited on East Capitol Avenue and - with wild luck - found enough room close to the Capitol to squeeze the car to the curb, and immediately confronted the next problem... the line, which ended at the Capitol, actually began on North Capitol Street, then headed east about forty long blocks, turned south for four, then west - back toward the Capitol- for another forty blocks. 
And, now about 8p, the weather had turned even colder ... now almost freezing.

As we looked at this line, the prospects dimmed. I told Chuck, "Nephew, we may have bitten off more than we could chew". 
Johnny had a better idea. "We probably need to round up another bottle of scotch"!
Across the street to a liquor store for extra scotch, around another dark corner for whizzing all around, and we found the end of the line - not single file but about ten people wide, and untold miles long.

As we joined this mass of mourners, the temperature was steadily dropping. It was about 730p in the 24th of November.

- more on this story tomorrow-

Journey to the JFK Funeral

(previously posted on Facebook)




JFK was assassinated on November 22, 1963, and his funeral was near the end of the month, not yet December but close, and cold weather was drawing in hourly in Washington.

We left Charleston WV early in November 24, after the assassination and Mrs Kennedy's sad trip home from Dallas to the White House. Traveling in my fairly new Chevy Corvair, a hot little four-place "roadster" convertible with a strong little engine and a stick shift, we avoided busy US 60 and blew through the mountains, Summersville, then Richwood, Marlinton ... through the Allegheny Mountains and into Virginia. Just as we settled down into the glorious Shenandoah Valley and began the turn up U.S. 11, it was past dawn but still early, and a bulletin came over the radio announcing that someone named Jack Ruby, who ran a strip joint in Dallas, had talked his way into the Dallas jail and, in front of cops, cameras and the world - shot down Lee Harvey Oswald, the suspect in the assassination.

Johnny, in his wise and thoughtful manner, remarked, "Mother fucker ... somebody's trying to cover this thing up"!

The whole nation was thinking the same thing.

Every hotel in the eastern seaboard was booked as virtually millions of people from all over the world were flocking to the Capitol to pay their respects. We planned to bunk in with my brother Boniface, and his family, who was then a Major in the Army, I believe, quartered at Ft Meade, Md, a very large military base just outside of DC. Gladys knew we were coming, had combed the Washington Post and Evening Star for funeral arrangements and details, and 
had a great lunch all ready. Quick naps and showers prepared us for what we suspected would be s long time on our feet.

We had no idea.


-More on this post tomorrow-