Read something interesting.

#55
#55
508mikey said:
could have been murder if he was on the mobs payroll - interesting story though
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Yea, I've thought that. But the timeline confuses me a little. I'm not sure if the mob involvement was before, after, or during her marriage. I believe she moved to Knoxville in the 70's or 80's and Carlos tried to get her back to New Orleans, but she said she just wanted out. I'll ask her when I see her around the holidays.
 
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#57
#57
VolAllen said:
She saw money exchange hands from Pope Paul’s people to Carlos Marcello’s people. The later happened to be who she was in a relationship with.

Obviously, I wasn’t there. So this will likely add to the list of conspiracies. However, as stated, she had no reason to lie or to even tell me that. It was brought up when she gave my wife her diamond ring, which Carlos gave to her. She also has crazy stories about being interrogated by New Orleans police, being hung over a balcony, etc. Her husband was a New Orleans police officer who “killed himself”. It’s a pretty deep and detailed story to be all made up. Certain elements I can confirm, others, I obviously can’t.
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Ok, I get the Carlos Marcelo part (don’t necessarily believe it, but it’s understandable), but the Pope? And “Pope Paul’s people”? What is that? A monsignor with shifty eyes? A pair of altar boys? Nuns with rulers? I’m super lost here.
 
#58
#58
VolNExile said:
Ok, I get the Carlos Marcelo part (don’t necessarily believe it, but it’s understandable), but the Pope? And “Pope Paul’s people”? What is that? A monsignor with shifty eyes? A pair of altar boys? Nuns with rulers? I’m super lost here.
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I'd assume the Pope travels with an entourage or security, just like every other influential figure. But I don't really know what "Pope Paul's people" consisted of.
 
#59
#59
VolAllen said:
I'd assume the Pope travels with an entourage or security, just like every other influential figure. But I don't really know what "Pope Paul's people" consisted of.
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Oh, THOSE kinds of peeps. Ok, I see that now.

I suppose we should be grateful that they didn’t carry bone saws...

It’s gotten to the point where nothing shocks me any more. Surprises me occasionally, but doesn’t shock me.
 
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#60
#60
VolNExile said:
Oh, THOSE kinds of peeps. Ok, I see that now.

I suppose we should be grateful that they didn’t carry bone saws...

It’s gotten to the point where nothing shocks me any more. Surprises me occasionally, but doesn’t shock me.
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I feel the same. No one really knows what happens behind the scenes. But it's unlikely (to me at least) that Oswald killed JFK.
 
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#62
#62
I was in school when Kennedy was shot. When the news spread through the school, the teachers started crying. Bewildered kids got scared and started crying. We were herded into the chapel. Father Saucy (Episcopalian) calmed everyone with his basso profound voice. The kids were then organized into groups outside. Some of us older kids were told to hold the hands of the youngest, to comfort them and keep them calm. I held a little girls hand. Her mother drove up in a gull wing Mercedes coupe. Her big, Jackie-esque shades didn't hide the streaks of mascara on her cheeks. Freed from the duty of looking out for the girl, I went to stand beside the groundskeeper as he lowered the flag to half staff. Being a veteran, he did it smartly, silent tears streaming from his eyes. All of the students loved and looked up to him. He was ever calm, friendly, and in good spirits. Seeing his tears drove home the tragedy of that day. My father left work to retrieve my brother and me from school. My mother was too upset to drive. When we arrived home, my sisters ran to my father, upset and confused. He bid my brother and I stay quiet while he soothed our sisters. Then, he told us to keep them occupied and calm while he went to our mother, who had shut herself in their room. An American President had been assassinated. Camelot ended. Hopefulness would be sore and sere in the years to come. I turned to the space program and fully enveloped myself in it. The refuge was imperfect. Death would invade it, even as thousands of GIs died in Vietnam, Martin Luther King, Jr would be assassinated, Bobby Kennedy would be assassinated, and our cities would be subsumed in marches, demonstrations, and riots.
 
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#63
#63
Tin Man said:
I was in school when Kennedy was shot. When the news spread through the school, the teachers started crying. Bewildered kids got scared and started crying. We were herded into the chapel. Father Saucy (Episcopalian) calmed everyone with his basso profound voice. The kids were then organized into groups outside. Some of us older kids were told to hold the hands of the youngest, to comfort them and keep them calm. I held a little girls hand. Her mother drove up in a gull wing Mercedes coupe. Her big, Jackie-esque shades didn't hide the streaks of mascara on her cheeks. Freed from the duty of looking out for the girl, I went to stand beside the groundskeeper as he lowered the flag to half staff. Being a veteran, he did it smartly, silent tears streaming from his eyes. All of the students loved and looked up to him. He was ever calm, friendly, and in good spirits. Seeing his tears drove home the tragedy of that day. My father left work to retrieve my brother and me from school. My mother was too upset to drive. When we arrived home, my sisters ran to my father, upset and confused. He bid my brother and I stay quiet while he soothed our sisters. Then, he told us to keep them occupied and calm while he went to our mother, who had shut herself in their room. An American President had been assassinated. Camelot ended. Hopefulness would be sore and sere in the years to come. I turned to the space program and fully enveloped myself in it. The refuge was imperfect. Death would invade it, even as thousands of GIs died in Vietnam, Martin Luther King, Jr would be assassinated, Bobby Kennedy would be assassinated, and our cities would be subsumed in marches, demonstrations, and riots.
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I am glad you shared your story.
 
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#64
#64
Tin Man said:
I was in school when Kennedy was shot. When the news spread through the school, the teachers started crying. Bewildered kids got scared and started crying. We were herded into the chapel. Father Saucy (Episcopalian) calmed everyone with his basso profound voice. The kids were then organized into groups outside. Some of us older kids were told to hold the hands of the youngest, to comfort them and keep them calm. I held a little girls hand. Her mother drove up in a gull wing Mercedes coupe. Her big, Jackie-esque shades didn't hide the streaks of mascara on her cheeks. Freed from the duty of looking out for the girl, I went to stand beside the groundskeeper as he lowered the flag to half staff. Being a veteran, he did it smartly, silent tears streaming from his eyes. All of the students loved and looked up to him. He was ever calm, friendly, and in good spirits. Seeing his tears drove home the tragedy of that day. My father left work to retrieve my brother and me from school. My mother was too upset to drive. When we arrived home, my sisters ran to my father, upset and confused. He bid my brother and I stay quiet while he soothed our sisters. Then, he told us to keep them occupied and calm while he went to our mother, who had shut herself in their room. An American President had been assassinated. Camelot ended. Hopefulness would be sore and sere in the years to come. I turned to the space program and fully enveloped myself in it. The refuge was imperfect. Death would invade it, even as thousands of GIs died in Vietnam, Martin Luther King, Jr would be assassinated, Bobby Kennedy would be assassinated, and our cities would be subsumed in marches, demonstrations, and riots.
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.
 
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#65
#65
The truth is out there, Mikey. I'm not sure if I'll ever know it.





BTW, Safari autocorrect wants to change your name to "Miley." Da fuq?!?!?
 
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