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Boy in the uniform in the DPD

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It appears that Tippit's son went to the same school. Clearly not the uniform that Mike Robinson is referring to in Walt's book. This does leave behind the question as to the identity of the 2 boys standing close to the Stemmon's sign - whom it appears would have attended the same school, assumed on the basis of the similarity of this jacket.

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  • 5 years later...

Walt Brown gave me permission to post this one. The story is quite facinating. The part I am most curious about concerns the 'Update' piece. Walt gave me to understand that the story of the 'boyscout and fake gun' was quite common in 1963 - yet this is the first reference I have ever seen [and I looked for more]. Further, Walt said that the individual was captured in some of the press footage, standing in the background.

Does anyone have any more information? Does anyone recall having heard this story in 1963? Any chance that someone may have frames from that footage of this individual? Where along the motorcade route was this individual arrested?

- lee

The Incredible Story of Mike Robinson by Walt Brown, Ph.D

Reprinted from "Treachery in Dallas."

Anyone who does not believe strongly in either irony or coincidence will have to rethink their attitudes when they hear the revelations given to me by Mike Robinson.

As it is the central thesis of my work that elements within the Dallas Police Department had a far greater involvement in the JFK assassination than heretofore considered, it seems odd that the same police department "gave" me Mike Robinson.

November 22, 1993, was the thirtieth anniversary of the tragedy in Dealey Plaza, and, as such, was the occasion for the dedication of that area as an historic landmark. I arrived there with my wife and Texas researcher Russ McLean early enough to be close enough to be able to see the goings-on. But the local blues were forcing people out of the plaza until all was ready. I was thus manhandled from the reflecting pool across the street to the TSBD, then around the corner to a point on Houston between the TSBD and the former Dal-Tex building. When I met resistance indicating I could be pushed no farther, I found myself next to Mike, who was giving an interview to a local television network.

What he had to say was incredible, and the TV anchorperson was lost for the right questions to ask. She did ask, however, if Mike was willing to take his story to the FBI, and he said he would--if the film crew would come with him to document the event. They declined.

I subsequently contacted Mike, as I had copied his name and phone number from the reporter's notes (Woodward or Bernstein I'm not). I explained that I had been standing next to him for the interview and that I had heard most of his comments, but that I just wanted to make sure I had heard them correctly. Mr. Robinson, not knowing my voice over the phone from Adam's, checked me out through people in Texas and only then shared his story.

Mike Robinson was fourteen years old the day the president was killed. Since I had been sixteen at the time, I felt I could relate to the emotions he told of.

He had watched the motorcade at Main and Harwood, the corner where Dallas police headquarters was located, with a friend whose father was a higher-up in the police. I have since been able to confirm the existence of both the friend, his father's rank, and his father's perhaps too-deep curiosity as to the events of November 22.

After the motorcade passed, the boys went to a theater, bought their tickets and popcorn, and then heard the rapidly spreading news that the president had been shot. Figuring that headquarters would be the center of subsequent action, he and his friend hastened back there in time to get to the third floor, check in with the friend's father, and then see Lee Oswald being led out of the elevator. Since this was a once-in-a-lifetime adventure for a young boy, and since the media were mobbing the area anyway, they stayed and observed the goings-on.

Mike indicated that he overheard in conversation that it was clear to anyone who was talking that the police were convinced beyond all reasonable doubt, even as early as 2:30 P.M., that Oswald was the culprit on both counts. He also learned that J. D. Tippit had been killed. That event, while tragic, was not overly troubling to Mike, as many neighborhood kids knew Tippit from his comings and goings at Austin's Barbeque, and Tippit had arrested Mike's brother for drinking beer in public. The local teenagers, it was noted, had no use for Tippit, whom they viewed as your garden-variety asshole.

Putting that aside, Mike and his friend saw Oswald moved from the various places he was shunted to, and also saw him inside one of the glass homicide cubicles, until such time as newspaper was taped up to keep out the curious. Mike also saw Bobby Hargis, the motorcycle officer splattered by particulate matter from the president, return to headquarters with blood and brain matter on him and his helmet, and when the realization of events hit Hargis, he violently slammed the helmet into a wall and literally went berserk, requiring a number of other officers to restrain him (an event unknown to--or unreported by -- the Warren Commission).

As afternoon approached evening, a trip to the rest room became an absolute necessity, but with extra police and media on the third floor, that was impossible. So Mike was taken, by the ranking officer whose son he was with, down to the lowest level of the building, where the officers had their lockers, and told that the rest room was just past the locker room.

While in a toilet/stall, the enormity of events hit Mike hard and he became emotional about them now that he found himself literally alone with the knowledge that the president he had waved to just a few hours earlier was now in a coffin. As this emotional turmoilcame upon him, the rest room serenity was broken by the arrival of three individuals. Not to appear a sissy or be embarrassed, Mike lifted his feet and "hid" in the stall so that anyone observing would think that only the three men who had just entered were present.

Their brief conversation forever changed Mike Robinson's life. Initially there were whispers, but eventually one individual--and these people were police or police-related in the officers' rest room--vented some anger through gritted teeth, with appropriate profanity, to make statements that add great credence to the thesis enunciated herein.

As Mike Robinson reconstructs the statements, their order was:

(angrily) "You knew you were supposed to kill Lee," followed by icy silence, then the same voice in the same nasty tone, "then, you stupid son of a bitch, you go kill a cop .... " At this point, another individual entered the room, and the first three fell silent. The newcomer, whom Mike could identify as wearing blue, "did his business, flushed the urinal, and left." The original three then concluded, "Lee will have to be killed before they take him to Washington."

Naturally uncomfortable with what he had heard, Mike remained in his hideout for a decent span of time after the three men left the room, then left. As he passed through the police locker room, one officer, in the process of changing his clothes, stared at Mike, as if to say, "Were you in there when we were?" Having been shown every available photo of officers on the Dallas police force at that time, Mike Robinson believes that the man who stared at him in a menacing way was Roscoe White.

Caveat emptor: Some of the narrative cited above came to light as a result of hypnosis. This is not uncommon police procedure, as witnesses to crimes can often be hypnotized and reveal details--from clothing to license plates--that they seemed totally unaware of in a conscious state. I was hypnotized in 1984 to begin the cure of a phobic concern, and I can personally report the success of the hypnosis. So if one chooses to see Mike as an opportunist, the obvious criticism is that he did not recall the entire story, although to this day, when he sees the ominous photo of Roscoe White in the Dallas Assassination Information Center, he admits that it scares the living hell out of him.

The hypnosis, which I asked a number of skeptical questions about and which will be well covered in Coke Buchanan's writings about Mike, was done by an expert with a Ph.D. in hypnotherapy. It revealed that it was Mike's deep-seated belief that one of the three bathroom individuals had something to do with an "agency." He also believes "100 percent" that Roscoe White killed J. D. Tippit.

I have checked with sources to see if it was in any way possible that Oswald could have been in that bathroom, or if media people had made statements that could have been confused. I was assured that Oswald did "his business" in his cell, or in the third-floor rest room, and that the one place that would have been off-limits to press, and thus private to officers, was the area in question.

** UPDATE **

I promised Mike I would be in contact with him at the time of publication (whenever that was, as it was unclear in November, 1993, although the original completed book had been submitted in August, 1993); so in the summer of 1995, I got in touch with Mike, and he became slightly concerned about the publication. Taking steps to protect himself, he visited the barracks of the "Texas Rangers" (the state police), and gave a statement very similar to that which I described in Treachery in Dallas. He told the officer that he was concerned for his safety once my publication of his observations came to pass. The officer told him, among other things, that not too many people in the Texas law enforcement community believed the "official version" of Oswald alone, although they didn't comment for the record about the possibility of law-enforcement people being involved.

Mike has also been "driven" by something else he saw that day... on several occasions, he saw someone, approximately 17-18 years of age and wearing some kind of uniform--ROTC, Scouts, whatever, being taken around through the third floor, and the story was that this person had been arrested with a weapon on the motorcade route. [There is a record of a "boy scout" with a fake pistol, but that is as far as the record goes.] Yet Mike Robinson recalls the incident vividly, and is convinced there is more to it. He has since visited as many local high schools in the area as possible, and has combed yearbooks from the classes of 1962-1964 to try and get a visual on the person he saw, with no luck.

But he insisted to me, both on the phone and when we met at Dallas COPA '96, (a wonderfully surprising reunion), that if it were possible to find the media coverage of the third floor on Friday, November 22 afternoon, you could see the individual, and more than once, as he was taken right past the camera during his detention.

Mike still stands by the story I added to Treachery in Dallas in 1993 (published 1995), and still has a keen pedestrian interest in the assassination of JFK.

Has anybody followed up on this?


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Mr. SPECTER. And you made a telephone call from the house that Mr. Olsen was guarding?

Mrs. OLSEN. Yes.

Mr. SPECTER. What did you do after that?

Mrs. OLSEN. I went home.

Mr. SPECTER. At about what time did you make that telephone call?

Mrs. OLSEN. Oh, I guess it was around 1:15. The President was killed at 1 o'clock, wasn't he?

Mr. SPECTER. 12:30.

Mrs. OLSEN. Well, I must have got there a little before that, then, because I didn't hear it until I sat in the car with Harry.

Mr. SPECTER. Well, didn't some lady tell you about it at the 7-11 store?

Mrs. OLSEN. Well, she said the President had been shot; that's what she said.

Mr. SPECTER. Then what is your best recollection about when you left that house?

Mrs. OLSEN. Oh, I guess about 1:30. So I must have called about 1:15.

Mr. SPECTER. Then where did you go next?

Mrs. OLSEN. I was going to take the girls to the show.

Mr. SPECTER. What show?

Mrs. OLSEN. I didn't know.

Mr. SPECTER. Some movie?

Mrs. OLSEN. Yes; a movie. And, well, I didn't; I wasn't in the mood to sit in a movie, you know, and I really can't remember.

Seems like there were quite a few. I don't have a copy of the Dallas Morning News from 1963 - but I believe that you can look up the various theatres and films playing in it for reference.

The Majestic

The Palace

The Melba

The Rialto

- lee

At the time of the assassination Mrs. Olsen was called Kay Coleman , and was one of Jack Ruby's employees at the Carousel Club. She lived with her two daughters at 325 North Ewing.

Interestingly the following information to the WC was provided by taxi-driver, William Scoggins:

Mr. BELIN. Where were you driving your cab in the early part of the afternoon

of November 22,1963, if you remember?

Mr. SCOGGINS. Well, I picked up a gentleman at Love Field at approximately

12:35, I would say, and I discharged him at 1 o'clock at 321 North Ewing.

A couple of years ago I was informed by a fellow researcher that he had discovered that Scoggins had picked up Harry Olsen in his taxi and delivered him to Kay Coleman's place on North Ewing. If one checks out Harry Olsen's statement to the WC, he stated that he had walked over to Coleman's apartment using crutches, since his leg was in a cast.

The following URL will be of assistance in finding statements provided by the various witnesses to the WC:


Thank you for that link, Ed.

Kathy C

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