Mr. Burleson. Did Jack ever have an occasion to say anything to you about a letter that was in the newspaper that was written by some man, purportedly to President Kennedy’s daughter, Caroline?
Mrs. Grant. I don’t know about that, but the week—the same week of the assassination—I think it was Monday or Tuesday—it was that week, there was a picture of the President sitting behind the desk just like you are and John-John was sitting at the front and you could see him playing around, I think it was his father’s feet, and he called it his house—I think, let me put it this way: My brother says, “This kid don’t know his father is the President and the father don’t act like a President.” He meant that he was just like a good guy—like acting ordinarily, like he wasn’t of wealth or power—he was just like the average young man and Jack looked at him as even being much younger than he was.
Mr. Burleson. But you don’t know anything about such a letter being in the paper that Jack saw?
Mrs. Grant. I don’t know—if he did, I don’t know it. I’ll tell you, I don’t know about that picture—it was the first week that I was home.
Mr. Burleson. On Saturday, the times that Jack was in your house, do you recall if he watched any television?
Mrs. Grant. No—very little. Saturday he came in with three pictures, and at the left hand corner, they were postal card pictures and he told me what he did. He went home and he couldn’t sleep—he got Larry out of bed and George Senator, and I thought he was nuts, I’ll be honest with you about it, so help me.
Mr. Hubert. Who?
Mrs. Grant. I thought my brother Jack was plain nuts.
Mr. Burleson. Is that when he went out in the middle of the morning and took the pictures?
Mrs. Grant. That’s right; and he didn’t know exactly where he saw it—that was the worst part of it and Larry told me that later on when they found him, he came back to it and they drove around and waited for daylight and he showed Larry how to take the pictures.