Mr. Rankin. You don't know whether the laws of Texas give the widow the right to say what shall be done?
Mrs. Oswald. Well, naturally, she is his wife, and I am just the mother. But from a moral standpoint, what are they doing to me? Law and right—but from a moral standpoint, I should go out to the graveyard and see a marker? I should find out from strangers that my son is now in a concrete vault?
Mr. Rankin. Well, then, did you go to the funeral?
Mrs. Oswald. Well, let me get—we will get to the story of the ministers.
Mr. Rankin. All right.
Mrs. Oswald. Now, I was not consulted. Had Robert asked me—they are Lutheran, we are raised Lutherans. I have no church affiliation. I have learned since my trouble that my heart is my church. I am not talking against the church. But I go to church all day long, I meditate. And my work requires that I don't go to church. I am working on Sunday most of the time, taking care of the sick, and the people that go to church, that I work for, the families, have never once said, "Well, I will stay home and take care of my mother and let you go to church, Mrs. Oswald, today."
You see, I am expected to work on Sunday.
So that is why—I have my own church. And sometimes I think it is better than a wooden structure. Because these same people that expect me to work on Sunday, while they go to church, and go to church on Wednesday night—I don't consider them as good a Christian as I am—I am sorry.
Well—I would not have let Robert be so upset trying to get a Lutheran minister. If he could not get a Lutheran minister, I would have called upon another minister, because there would have been many, many ministers of many denominations that would have been happy to come and help the sorrowing family.
Well, a Reverend French from Dallas came out to Six Flags and we sat on the sofa.