Gloomily we filed out of the Lebanese Embassy, where people did not seem
to be too badly concerned about President Kennedy’s fate, got in the car and drove away. “
If he had his tonton macoutes around, this would not have
happened,” I said angrily and this was my first serious criticism of our
services who were supposed to protect the President of the United States. We drove gloomily to the American Embassy, located near the seashore and not too far from my office. The doors were wide open and two marines stood there on both sides of a book where the American residents would sign their names as a gesture of reverence to the dead head of state. Having signed our names (we were the first to have done it) we drove to the house of an old friend of mine Valentin (Teddy) Blaque, an attaché at the Embassy.
Teddy’s house was similar to ours, but more elaborate, with a large terrace
overlooking the sparkling bay of Port-au-Prince. Several mutual friends stood around looking at each other with stunned expression and seemed to
ask the same question: “Why him?”
“For the fist time we had a president who was young and energetic. And he was trying to solve the problems of the world,” said Jeanne sadly, holding
ck her tears. “And he had to go...”
The beautiful view seemed funereal to us as we stood there silently.
“And in Dallas,”
I mused aloud.
A conservative and somewhat provincial city, but successful and proud of its success. We knew the mayor
a charming man
and many city fathers.
“But who did it?” I asked Teddy.
“I just listened to the radio and a suspect was arrested already,” he said.
Before he mentioned the name, I thought of Lee and his rifle with the telescopic lens
. “Could it be Lee? No
it was impossible.”
And driving back home, in stunned silence, we thought of Lee and the predicament he was in. But since the official version had it that Lee Harvey Oswald was the main suspect, we made our deposition at the Embassy. We did know him and we were aware of the fact he owned a rifle. We would be happy to testify as to