Evan Marshall Posted June 27, 2019 Share Posted June 27, 2019 Air America on forged orders. Spent time in NV getting ready. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chuck Schwartz Posted June 27, 2019 Share Posted June 27, 2019 Quote After, the Big Event, did he go back to SE Asia? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Karl Kinaski Posted October 16, 2023 Author Share Posted October 16, 2023 (edited) Oliver Hardy aka William King Harvey seems real: From the Memo Inspector Kelley USSS 29. 11. 1963, page 3, quote: (It is the last page, or page 177 of the actual doc.) Quote ... while Oswald was in the operating room, no one other than medical personal was present but a Dallas policeman who had accompanied Oswald in the ambulance was standing in the doorway of the operating room in operating room scrub clothes. Close quote Reminder: From Dr. Charles Crenshaws book: JFK HAS BEEN SHOT (Crenshaw describes the moments when Oswald was on the operating table) Quote After the major bleeding had been brought under control, I looked up and took a deep breath. When I did, I spotted a large man across the room whom I didn’t recognize. He resembled Oliver Hardy in a scrub suit with no mask. Most alarming, there was a pistol hanging from his back pocket; if it had fallen to the floor, it could have discharged and killed someone. I never knew how he got into the operating room or who gave him the scrub suit. Just two days earlier, a Secret Service agent had rushed through the emergency room, waving a gun as the President of the United States lay there, dying. Incredibly, the man who had been accused of shooting President Kennedy was now lying before me, fighting for his life, while another pistol-packing intruder looked on. I didn’t know what to think, except that we had to get a cap and mask on the son of a bitch before he contaminated the entire room with bacteria. I motioned for one of the other resident surgeons to relieve me. I scrubbed out and got the proper attire for the guy. I wanted to throw his ass out of the operating room, but I was afraid he would shoot me. Without saying anything, I handed him the cap and mask. He put it on without comment. As I was turning around, a nurse tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I would take a telephone call in the supervisor’s office. She had chosen me to take the call because I was the head of Surgical “B,” the team that began the operation. I agreed to answer the call and left the operating room. When I entered the office, the receiver was lying on the desk. “This is Dr. Crenshaw, may I help you?” “This is President Lyndon B. Johnson,” the voice thundered. “Dr. Crenshaw, how is the accused assassin?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The very first thought that I had was, how did he know when to call? “Mr. President, he’s holding his own at the moment,” I reported. “Would you mind taking a message to the operating surgeon?” he asked in a manner that sounded more like an order. “Dr. Shires is very busy right now, but I will convey your message.” “Dr. Crenshaw, I want a deathbed confession from the accused assassin. There’s a man in the operating room who will take the statement. I will expect full cooperation in this matter,” he said firmly. “Yes, sir,” I replied and hung up the telephone. I almost laughed in the President’s ear. If he could have seen the mess in the operating room and the condition of our patient, he wouldn’t have asked. As I stood there in a state of disbelief, my mind was racing. First, “deathbed confession” implies that someone is going to die. If Oswald doesn’t die on the table, is “Oliver Hardy” or someone else going to kill him? (...) why would the President of the United States personally call the operating room at Parkland Hospital and ask for a deathbed confession? That question still puzzles me. (...) I rushed back into the operating room and approached Dr. Shires. There was blood everywhere, and five sets of hands were working in Oswald’s belly. “You won’t believe who I just talked to,” I said to Dr. Shires. He looked at me with a “what’s next” expression. “President Johnson would like for us to allow that man over there to get a statement from our patient.” Shires glanced at “Oliver Hardy,” shook his head in disbelief, and returned his attention to the operation. I wish that I could have taken a picture of him as he stood there, covered in blood. It would have been worth an entire library of words in expressing our efforts to save Oswald. Under the best circumstances, it would have been days before Oswald could have spoken lucidly to anyone. It was ironic. We had a patient on the table under oxygen anesthesia, bleeding to death from a bullet that had penetrated almost every organ in his body, and the President of the United States wanted the intruder with the gun to conduct an interview. The fact that a stranger was in the operating room during surgery, something that would have never been tolerated, best illustrates the hospital’s state of confusion at that time. Only moments later, at 12:37 P . M., almost one hour into the operation, Oswald’s heart began to fail. Dr, Akin’s anesthesiology resident reported to the operating team that Oswald’s cardiac condition was weakening, and that his pulse rate was slowing. Electrical impulses on the cardioscope confirmed the sudden development. Dr. Shires placed his hand under Oswald’s diaphragm to detect heart activity. As everyone looked on in silence, Dr. Shires shook his head and told Dr. Perry that Oswald’s rhythmic cardiac activity had stopped. I walked over to our visitor with the gun and remarked, “There won’t be any deathbed confession today.” (...) “Oliver Hardy” disappeared, and I never saw him again. Close quote Edited September 29 by Karl Kinaski Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Please sign in to comment
You will be able to leave a comment after signing in
Sign In Now