Beginning on November 30, and as I found time on the following 2 days, I dictated my recollection of that fateful and dreadful day on a small tape recorder which I had at The Elms, where we were then living. I did this primarily as a form of therapy—to help me over the shock and horror of the experience of President Kennedy's assassination. I did not intend that the tape should be used.
The quality of the tape recording is very poor, but upon considering your Commission's request, I decided to ask that the tape relating to November 22 be transcribed. I am sending the transcription to you with only a few, minor corrections. Perhaps it will serve your purposes. I hope so. In any event, it is a more faithful record of my recollection and impressions than I could produce at this late date.
Please accept, for yourself and the members of the Commission and its staff, my thanks and best wishes for the important task which you have undertaken and to which all of you have so generously dedicated yourselves.
Sincerely,
(S)Lady Bird Johnson,
Mrs. Lyndon B. Johnson.
[Enclosure.]
*****
[Transcript from Mrs. Johnson's tapes relating to November 22, 1963]
It all began so beautifully. After a drizzle in the morning, the sun came out bright and beautiful. We were going into Dallas. In the lead car, President and Mrs. Kennedy, John and Nellie, and then a Secret Service car full of men, and then our car—Lyndon and me and Senator Yarborough. The streets were lined with people—lots and lots of people—the children all smiling; placards, confetti; people waving from windows. One last happy moment I had was looking up and seeing Mary Griffith leaning out of a window waving at me. Mary for many years had been in charge of altering the clothes which I purchased at a Dallas store.
Then almost at the edge of town, on our way to the Trade Mart where we were going to have the luncheon, we were rounding a curve, going down a hill, and suddenly there was a sharp loud report—a shot. It seemed to me to come from the right, above my shoulder, from a building. Then a moment and then two more shots in rapid succession. There had been such a gala air that I thought it must be firecrackers or some sort of celebration. Then, in the lead car, the Secret Service men were suddenly down. I heard over the radio system, "Let's get out of here," and our Secret Service man who was with us, Ruf Youngblood, I believe it was, vaulted over the front seat on top of Lyndon, threw him to the floor, and said, "Get down."