By Alexander Troup
The greatest tragedy in the state of Texas, was the shooting of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, on the streets of Dallas. He was shot on the corner of Elm and Houston Streets, early one afternoon, just before Thanksgiving.
I was in Dallas at a private school called Saint Monica. The day JFK came was to fly into Dallas, we were told to go to the school’s lunchroom. We assembled in groups, by class, to see the Catholic president step off the plane. We were watching the news clip on a small TV set. As the flight began to land at Love Field, most of the kids in the lunch room then started to chant “crash, crash, crash!”. This is a true story.
That morning the Kennedy motorcade drove into town to an area where my folks ran a fine art print studio and frame shop. As part of a crowd, my parents stood near the intersection of Fairmount and Cedar Springs, where they saw the president, his wife (Jackie), and the governor drive-by. With this procession of motor vehicles was a large group of security people: Secret Service and motorcycle police from Dallas. However, the president took time to stop and shake hands with the spectators.
As the motorcade moved along Cedar Springs, it passed by C.F. Newtons Miramar Museum; it was a folk art kind of political statement with a neon sign that was to go against conservatives. Having been run out of Highland Park (an affluent area that is surrounded by the city of Dallas) in the late 1950s, the Newtons were exiled to this location. In 1964 the Newtons changed their sign to the John F. Kennedy Shrine and Museum. For years it remained with this sign, until the couple passed away in the mid 1970s.
Later that the day, in school, we were told the president had been shot! Hundreds of kids were crying, regretting what they had said earlier when the flight was landing at love Field.
That evening the capture of Lee Harvey Oswald in Oak Cliff was released to the public. He was apprehended at the Texas theater, and this was the beginning of the mystery that has become the 1963 Kennedy assassination.
Over the years there have been many JFK Memorials. Some museums that opened up were large and others were small, but most have disappeared. In 1968 six places memorializing JFK were open, now few locations exist. Today’s memorials are more for tourists than, for reflection and respect. The big question: Why did this happen?
Almost a decade after John F Kennedy took his drive on Cedar Springs, where the crowd shook hands with the popular president, a terribly sad event occurred….In July 1973, there was a shooting of a 14-year-old boy Mexican boy from the nearby barrio of little Mexico. The sad fate of the boy took place at Bookout and Cedar Springs, across the street from Mac’s Fina gas station, by the side of the Parisian strip club. The shooting was by the two Dallas policeman, who had arrested the youths, for the supposed break-in to a Dr. Pepper machine at the gas station.
When the boys were arrested, my folks and I were in the fine art gallery making picture frames for a bank commission. We missed the noise of the events that took place. When we left the gallery, we didn’t see the flashing lights that were up the street. Here is what happened:
The boys were placed in the backseat of the police car at the time of the arrest. The officers then began to play Russian roulette, with their pistols, on one of the boys, to get him to confess the crime. A round went off by accident in the backseat of the police car, killing the youth and blinding his brother forever. My folks and I heard about the death of the youth (Santos) the next day. I had met Santos once, at the gas station, while getting the flat tire for my bike fixed. A truly traumatic event took place that day, one block from the John F Kennedy shrine museum.
Later in the summer, I recall the city courts in Dallas dismissed the charges; the two officers were only suspended, as it was considered an accident. Riots ensued. Bricks were thrown into the large plate glass windows of our fine art print studio. My folks were advised to move the business. The fine art print studio and frame shop, once on Cedar Springs Road, was moved; sadly the gallery never recovered and my folks lost the business.
Cedar Springs: a road in Dallas where John F. Kennedy shook hands with those along the route of his motorcade. A segment of the route that took the young President to his untimely death. Then, almost a decade later, Cedar Springs was the scene of a terrible tragedy….the memory and excitement of a bright day in 1963, in contrast to the dark event in 1973, but both ending in sadness and death…..why Dallas, Texas?
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