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He knew Oswald & saw FERRIE's plane 11-22-63

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Don Roberdeau

U.S.S. John F. Kennedy, CV-67, "Big John" Plank Walker

Sooner, or later, the Truth emerges Clearly





T ogether

E veryone

A chieves

M ore



Dr. DONALD THOMAS during his NID-2001 presentation, "Hear No Evil":

The x-ray of the President's head taken at the autopsy revealed a metal fragment on the outside of the cranium located 10 cm dorsad of the occipital protuberance. The scalp wound in apposition to this piece of metal was described in the autopsy facing sheet (7 HSCA 253) as "ragged, slanting" with an arrow indicating an upward trajectory. Dr. RUSSELL FISHER, the chairman of the forensic pathology panel appointed by Attorney General RAMSEY CLARK to review the autopsy materials concluded that the piece of metal was, "...most likely a richochet fragment" (interview in Menninger pp. 64-66).

I am not a forensic pathologist, but Dr. FISHER's expert diagnosis meshes well with the filmed evidence of the President's reaction, the accounts of the eyewitnesses, and explains the ragged nature of the scalp wound. Or, we may choose to rely on the HSCA Forensic Pathology panel's expertise on how this piece of metal came to be lodged on the outside of the President's skull. The Warren Commission's doctors elected not to report this piece of metal in their autopsy protocol. The forensic pathology panel met with the Chief Prosector, JAMES HUMES, and asked him about the fragment and scalp lesion. Transcripts of the panel's discussion elicited the following opinion from Dr. GEORGE LOQUVAM:

COE: "The reason we are so interested in this, Dr. Humes, is because other pathologists have interpreted the..."

LOQUVAM: "I don't think this belongs in the damn record."

HUMES: "Well, it probably doesn't."

LOQUVAM: "You guys are nuts. You guys are nuts writing this stuff. It doesn't belong in the damn record." (7HSCA255)

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Don Roberdeau

U.S.S. John F. Kennedy, CV-67, "Big John" Plank Walker

Don, you have to sign up to see the citation, then you have to pay to read the article.


.............and that's not cool.........

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Don Roberdeau

U.S.S. John F. Kennedy, CV-67, "Big John" Plank Walker

Don, you have to sign up to see the citation, then you have to pay to read the article.


Don has a lot of money, so he can pay and post the article here? :P

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You don't have to pay to read the articles, just sign up......B.. :blink:

The secrets of Dallas


Arieh O'Sullivan, THE JERUSALEM POST Nov. 21, 2004


O0n April 7, 1964, a 26-year-old detective in the New Orleans Police Department appeared before the Warren Commission investigating the previous November's assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

That detective was my father, Fred (later Efraim) O'Sullivan.

I'd always known my dad had been acquainted with Lee Harvey Oswald. They had grown up half a block from each other and shared homerooms at school: My father sat in front of Lee for years, O'Sullivan alphabetically ahead of Oswald.

Somewhere back in my mother's house today there is a letter from Jacqueline Kennedy thanking him for appearing before the commission. It wasn't something he spoke of often – just a tidbit of information in a life that went on to greater adventures.

Kennedy's assassination in Dallas was a benchmark event. Everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news, just as we remember where we were when we heard that the other John – Lennon – had been shot dead; and the Saturday night Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated.

But with JFK we always believed there was a conspiracy. I mean, how could one lone gunman have killed the president of the United States, in a rolling motorcade, at an almost impossible distance?

My father always intimated that he thought there was more to the story, and that the plots to kill JFK and black rights activist Martin Luther King Jr., gunned down in Memphis in 1968 by white supremacist James Earl Ray, crossed paths in New Orleans.

There were a lot of mysteries in New Orleans in the 1960s and my father, as commander of intelligence at the New Orleans Police Department, had a ringside seat.

Dad's ties to Oswald included his efforts, when he was active with the Civil Air Patrol in high school, to get Lee to join the drill marching team.

"Oswald carried himself always erect, always gave the impression that he could be marching, that he may be marching, eyes straight ahead, head straight, shoulders back, so he impressed me as the sort of fellow that would really fit well on the drill team," my father would tell the Warren Commission all those years later.

"He seemed like he could – well, he even gave the impression that he would make a pretty good leader if he ever got into the squadron."

The commission, I found, reading dad's testimony in the basement of the Stanford library, questioned him over a possible "relationship" between Oswald and a man called David Ferrie, a known New Orleans homosexual with dubious links to the mob.

"I am trying to get things straight in my mind," my dad told them. "Of course I have been trying to get it straight in my mind, just what I know and what I have heard.

"It gets kind of confusing when you read so much. Sometimes you remember things that you don't really remember, you know."

Gosh, my old man seemed so young and earnestly innocent back then.

Eventually, he recalled that Ferrie – who had earlier been charged with a "crime against nature with a juvenile" – was arrested after the assassination in connection "with this Oswald situation."

"Now you go ahead," encouraged Wesley Liebeler, a member of the commission, pushing dad for more details.

And so he told them how he and another New Orleans detective drove out to the local airport immediately after the assassination to examine Ferrie's airplane. It was their initiative, he said. They wondered if Ferrie had somehow been involved.

"We wanted to check it to see if it was flyable... with the thought that he may have transported Oswald to Dallas We found the plane, but his plane was not in flyable condition. It had flat tires, instruments missing, needed a paint job.

"We also checked to see if he had rented an aircraft... and one company in particular said they wouldn't rent him an airplane."

An apparent dead end – even though New Orleans district attorney Jim Garrison would later finger Ferrie, memorably portrayed by Joe Pesci in Oliver Stone's JFK, as a prime suspect in the assassination and would haul him in for more questioning more than three years after the killing.

Garrison would talk of the JFK murder as a "homosexual thrill killing," and later as a wider CIA /anti-Castro / military-industrial plot, asserting a major role for Ferrie in both; Ferrie was still denying all involvement when he died in February 1967.

Kennedy conspiracists kept returning to my father over the years, through to the late 1970s.

When I close my eyes I can just make out my old man as a young cop. His hair cut in the traditional flat top. His soul still Irish Catholic before he saw the light and we threw away our Christmas tree, lit the big brass menora and took off for Zion land.

My father had voted for the Catholic Kennedy. JFK's death wounded the hearts of so many men, catching them off-guard and suddenly making them think of what they had done and what they could be.

My father was certainly one of those affected. You could hear in his testimony how shattered dad was.

"Well I have put quite a bit of thought on this ever since it all happened," he told the commission, before concluding regretfully: "As much as I would like to help, I just can't think of anything else [to add]... There is nothing else I can think of."

To me, as I was growing up, dad often used to say there was more to JFK's assassination than met the eye. But he never gave me any details, and I never pressed him. Always a close friend, he had his private side. He'd keep secrets better than anyone I have ever known.

Once I stumbled upon a Lebanese driver's license in his name, with his photo in it, in his desk drawer. He shrugged it off, telling me it was for my own good I not know. I was brought up not to prod.

Still, I wish I had pushed him more on JFK before the years and strokes started to dim his brain.

And so the other day, as the 41st anniversary neared, I telephoned him to make one more attempt.

"Forty-one years! Already?" he stuttered incredulously down the transatlantic line, from the nursing home in Mississippi.

"Who killed JFK?" I asked him straight out, wondering whether he really could cast any new light on America's most puzzling enigma.

"Just Lee," he managed to say. "By himself."

"That's it?"

"Well, I have my suspicions who helped him."

And then the nurse hung up the phone.

The writer is the military correspondent of the Jerusalem Post.

Edited by Bernice Moore
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