I lie down and take a nap. I wake about 7 or 7:30. In the meantime, I think I called--the reason this comes back to me, I know I was going to go to the synagogue.
I called Coleman Jacobson and asked him what time services are tonight, and he said he didn't know.
And I said, "Are there going to be any special services?"
And he said he didn't know of any.
And I called the Congregation Shearith Israel and asked the girl, and she said, "Regular services at 8 o'clock."
And I said, "Aren't there going to be earlier services like 5:30 or 6?
And about 7:30 I went to my apartment. I don't know if I went downtown to the club. I know I went to my apartment either to the club or to the apartment.
And I changed, showered and shaved, and I think I drove and as I drove down, there is a certain Thornton Freeway, and I saw the clubs were still open going full blast, a couple of clubs there.
Anyway, I went out to the synagogue and I went through the line and I spoke to Rabbi Silverman, and I thanked him for going to visit my sister at the hospital. She was in a week prior and had just gotten out. I don't remember the date.
Then he had a confirmation--this is the night prior to the confirmation. They serve little delicacies. So in spite of the fact of the mood I was in, I strolled into the place, and I think I had a little glass of punch. Nothing intoxicating, just a little punch they serve there. I didn't speak to anyone. One girl, Leona, said "Hello, Jack," and I wasn't in a conversational mood whatsoever.
I left the club--I left the synagogue and I drove by the Bali-Hai Restaurant. I noticed they were open. I took recognition of that. I drove by another club called the Gay Nineties, and they were closed.
And I made it my business to drive down Preston Road. In my mind suddenly it mulled over me that the police department was working overtime. And this is the craziest thing that ever happened in a person's life. I have always been very close to the police department, I don't know why.
I felt I have always abided by the law--a few little infractions, but not serious--and I felt we have one of the greatest police forces in the world here, and I have always been close to them, and I visited in the office. And over the radio I heard they were working overtime.
I stopped at the delicatessen called Phil's on Oak Lawn Avenue, and suddenly I decided--I told the clerk there I wanted him to make me some real good sandwiches, about 10 or 12, and he had already started on the sandwiches and I got on the phone.
I called an officer by the name of Sims and I said, "Sims, I hear you guys are working," and so on. I said, "I want to bring some sandwiches." And he said, "Jack, we wound up our work already. We wound up what we were doing. We are finished what we were doing. I will tell the boys about your thoughtfulness, and I will thank them for you."
In the meantime, there is a fellow in town that has been very good to me named Gordon McLendon. Do you know him, Mr. Warren?
Chief Justice WARREN. I think I do not.

Mr. Ruby.

He had been giving me a lot of free plugs. And all the while listening to the radio, I heard about a certain diskjockey, Joe Long, that is down at the station, giving firsthand information--I want to describe him--of Oswald.
Very rarely do I use the name Oswald. I don't know why. I don't know how to explain it--of the person that committed the act. [Pause to compose self.] So before going down to the police station, I try to call KLIF but can't get their number.
I wanted to bring the sandwiches to KLIF so they would have the sandwiches, since they already started to make them up.
And I remember Russ Knight, a diskjockey--these names aren't familiar to you, but I have to mention them in order to refresh my memory.
His name was Moore, or something, and I tried to get information on the telephone, but they couldn't give me the phone number of his home.
I probably thought I could get the phone number, but after 6 p.m., you

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