Pictures from a Grassy Knoll

Yesterday morning I was talking to my friend Jimbo on the phone, and I told him that I was in Dallas. After talking about my travels for a little while, he asked me if I'd been over to see the grassy knoll at Dealey Plaza yet. The thought suddenly clicked in my mind--"Oh, that's right." I had completely overlooked a historical landmark that was just 17 miles away from my location.

I quickly got out the computer, Google mapped a route, wrote down the directions (no, I don't have a printer in the truck), and set out bobtail to check out the scene.

I found parking a few blocks away from Dealey Plaza, and according to the sign, was able to park the giant vehicle for three dollars. I thought that the guard was going to charge me more than the normal car rate when he saw me scrape both mirrors as I slipped through the narrow entrance gate and up to his booth, but luckily, he didn't. I then proceeded to take up four car-sized spots to celebrate.

I walked up the road and under the bridge where Elm, Main, and Commerce Streets merged together. Emerging on the other side of the bridge, I took in for the first time what I'd only previously seen through images, both moving and still.

I walked around on my own for a while, and eventually wandered back to the knoll area. Mike Brownlow, an older man with a book full of loose pictures, was speaking to a small group of people. I introduced myself and asked about "the tour." He was more than happy to tell me what he knew about the historic day, November 22, 1963.


Mike had been an eyewitness to the event, and even though he was a child at the time (I don't remember exactly how old, but I got the feeling that he was around 10 or 12) remembered vividly the scene and order of events. Together, we walked around to the backside of the fence behind the knoll, and he showed me where it was likely that two gunmen stood.

He then showed me a picture of him as a young man, standing along the parade route as the President's motorcade passed by. As he ran through the events of what most likely happened, he supported his talking points with photographs and news articles he kept loosely in the book he was holding.

I thanked Mike for his time, and wandered over to the book depository building, where on the 6th floor, they have a museum about the life and death of President John F. Kennedy. I didn't spend much time in there as I could have, but I learned a lot from what I saw.

I stood in a group of people, watching a kiosk-hosted short film made from event footage, as well as from the original news coverage of the events surrounding that day. It was a very emotional experience to stand in that group of people--some of whom you could tell were recalling their own memories of that time. It was a somber feeling to watch the news reporter, Walter Cronkite, announce the death of the President, and then pause to put on and take off his thick, black-rimmed glasses as what seemed to be a cover for the emotion rising up inside of him.



I stood for a few minutes by the window next to where Lee Harvey Oswald most likely sat, looking down on the scene before heading back down the elevator and back out on the street. I took a few more pictures from street level before walking back to the truck. As I drove back out the gate (pulling in my mirror this time) I thought about how thankful I was that Jimbo reminded me of where I was. Maybe I'll start a list of places I want to see so I don't overlook anything in the future.

Here are all of the pictures I took yesterday