Mrs. Grant. I said, “I don’t want anyone to get killed.” I said, “If it was Hoover, now, he is a man 85 years old, and I read a confidential report out of some magazine, he has the same thing that my father had, uremia. I bet he would almost or wish someone would shoot him.” I know how my father suffered.
Don’t misunderstand me, let him live and be well. This is not a thought on my part. It is a thought that this poor man who is suffering so much.
Mr. Griffin. Did you tell this to your brother?
Mrs. Grant. Yes. I think we were discussing—we were very close in saying things.
Mr. Griffin. This was before he went to the synagogue?
Mrs. Grant. During the time he was eating and the phone calls and all those little conversations that go up and back.
Mr. Griffin. Did you see him again that night after he left?
Mrs. Grant. No. When he was leaving, he already threw up, and I was very worried about him getting killed in traffic. I said, “Don’t go to the synagogue.” And he said, “Yes, I got to go.” He said, “I will never feel right.”
Mr. Griffin. Did he tell you when he left the house he was going home first?
Mrs. Grant. This is what—he was too dirty. He never wears clothes, the same clothes all day, if he has to go out in the evening or go into the club, and he wasn’t dressed right.