The events flowing from the assassination of John F. Kennedy have been so bizarre that they could be criticized as bad fiction. Not the least of these was the assassination of the assassin in full view of several million televiewers.
And last week, during the trial of the man who shot Lee Harvey Oswald, came another Dallasian episode.
Seven prisoners, lodged in an upstairs cell block of the Dallas County Courthouse, overpowered a guard and started a dramatic getaway. One of them, brandishing a "pistol" carved out of soap and blackened with shoe polish, pushed his way into the crowded second-floor corridor of the courthouse.
With his Palmolive pistol jammed into the back of a frightened female county employee, he barreled his way through the throng. "Get out of my way, please!" the woman cried. "He has a gun in my back!"
Run down in the melee was a 19year-old pregnant stripteaser, Karen Lynn Bennett, professionally known as "Little Lynn," who was on hand as the first defense witness. Shrieked Little Lynn, after one look at the soap-gun: "Oh, my God! He's after me!" He wasn't. But there followed a scuffle, and within minutes the fellow with the soap and one other escapee were recaptured. The other five drifted through the confused crowds. Some were caught later, but a few got away. Television and still cameras caught most of the action. And the trial of Jack Ruby went on.
Just Helping Out. There was very little nonsense in the prosecution's case against Ruby. Dallas County District Attorney Henry Wade and his aides presented their case in less than three days. They were trying to prove that
Ruby, 52, shot Lee Harvey Oswald "with malice aforethought"—and not, as the defense argued, in a fit of momentary insanity brought on by grief over President Kennedy's death.
One of the first prosecution witnesses, Police Reporter John Rutledge of the Dallas Morning News, testified that Ruby was "a loudmouthed extravert" who loved to strut wherever there was big action. Rutledge said that he saw Ruby at police headquarters at least three times on the night of Nov. 22, after Oswald had been arrested. Ruby was familiar with the place; he always liked to hang around with cops. Wielding pad and pencil, he had slipped past a police guard among surging newsmen. "He was explaining to members of the press from out of state who everybody was," said Rutledge. "Somebody would come out and say something to the press and a newsman would say, 'Who's that? Sheriff Decker?' and Ruby would say, 'No, that's Captain Will Fritz.' He'd spell out the names. He was making all the identifications, shouting them out." Once, testified Rutledge, an officer spotted Ruby in the crowd at headquarters and said, "Hey, Jack, what are you doing here?" Ruby had replied: "I'm helping out these reporters here."