For more than three and a half decades, the retired treasurer
of the Baptist General Convention of Texas possessed a historical treasure he
did not even recognize.
Jay Skaggs shot one roll of slide film in downtown Dallas on
Nov. 22, 1963, the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dealey
Plaza.
For more than three and a half decades, the retired treasurer
of the Baptist General Convention of Texas possessed a historical treasure he
did not even recognize.
Jay Skaggs shot one roll of slide film in downtown Dallas on
Nov. 22, 1963, the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dealey
Plaza.
Never particularly impressed with his photos from that fateful
day, Skaggs shared them only with close family.
However, when he and his wife decided to make their first visit
to the Sixth Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza, Skaggs brought his slides and a series
of prints made from them.
The museum curator said Skaggs had the last known still image
of Kennedy taken prior to his assassination. He also had one-of-a-kind color
photos taken inside the perimeter of the crime scene investigation. Those rare
images are part of a current exhibit at the Sixth Floor Museum.
Skaggs, 82, was working as business administrator at Cliff
Temple Baptist Church in 1963. He went to downtown Dallas for the presidential
parade at the prodding of his teenage daughter, who was granted an excused absence
from Adamson High School in Oak Cliff to attend the event.
He and his family arrived early, parked their car not far from
the School Book Depository and then walked to the corner of Main and Houston.
With the characteristic precision of an accountant, Skaggs had studied the parade
route to determine the best place to get photographs.
“I knew they had to make a turn onto Houston Street, and
I thought the car might slow down enough that I could get a good picture,”
Skaggs recalls. “But when the presidents car made the turn, he was
looking the other direction.”
Skaggs yelled, trying to attract the presidents attention,
but Kennedy never turned around. Giving up on capturing the image he wanted,
Skaggs instead snapped a photo picturing the back of Kennedys head, a
profile of the First Lady, and a slightly-obscured view of Gov. John Connally
and his wife, Nellie, turned partly away from the camera.
Then, he heard the first gunshot.
“I thought it was a firecracker – somebody just being
stupid,” he recounts. “Then, I heard a second shot and a third one,
and I knew it was a rifle.”
Telling his wife and daughter to stay where they were, Skaggs
crossed the street, dashing between cars. He snapped a photo of the assassination
scene on Elm Street, about one minute after the last shot was fired.
In the next block, he talked with – and photographed –
Charles Brehm, an eyewitness to the shooting.
Moving up to the railroad track overlooking the plaza, Skaggs
continued to take photos.
In the process, he met and photographed Clyde Haygood, the
Dallas motorcycle officer who was the first policeman to investigate the grassy
knoll area after the shooting.
When Skaggs learned the School Book Depository was the suspected
site from which the sniper fired, he hurried to that building. There, he took
photos of crime lab investigator Carl Day carrying out the rifles that ultimately
were linked to Lee Harvey Oswald.
By that time, police officers had cordoned off the crime scene,
but Skaggs was inside the secured area. At one point, a member of Cliff Temple
Baptist Church – attorney Jerry Gilmore – spotted him and yelled,
“Skaggs, what are you doing in there?”
Skaggs recalls: “I just ignored him. I learned a long
time ago, if you act like you are supposed to be somewhere, nobody will question
whether you belong.”
While he was at the School Book Depository, Skaggs says he
heard a report from Parkland Hospital on a police officers handheld radio.
President Kennedy was dead.
Skaggs had one roll of film in his camera. He shot all the
photos, had the slides processed and, then, put them away. For years, only his
immediate family knew they existed. Like many Dallas residents at the time,
he wanted to put the events of that day behind him.
“That was a tragic time for Dallas,” Skaggs says.
Many years later, Skaggs daughter asked to borrow the
slides and had prints made. Skaggs framed a few images, taping the original
slides to the back of the frames.
Last year, Skaggs returned to Dealey Plaza for only the second
time in 38 years. He presented his slides and prints to the Sixth Floor Museum.
Ironically, Curator Gary Mack knew the photographs probably
existed, but he never realistically expected to see them. Three years ago, the
Sixth Floor Museum had received a film that showed a man with a camera on the
corner of Main and Houston.
“Its been kind of a joke among the staff here: Wouldnt
it be great if somebody walked in here one day with a shoebox full of pictures
from that location? And thats exactly what happened,” Mack
says.
In the intervening months, the curator matched the slides and
prints, reviewing each image to identify it and preparing the exhibit that opened
recently. He discovered that one slide was missing – the image of Kennedy
that Skaggs took on the corner of Main and Houston. Skaggs has not found the
missing slide yet. And he is not in any hurry to locate it.
It would be quite a chore for the man who eventually served
26 years on the financial management staff of the Baptist General Convention
of Texas.
“When I retired from the Baptist Building, my wife and
I decided to travel,” Skaggs relates. “We visited all 50 states and
Nova Scotia, and I have slides from all our travels. I have over 8,000 slides
that nobody is interested in seeing.
“Gary Mack wants me to go through all of them to find
that one missing slide. I havent got the time to do that.”
Skaggs donation to the museum captured national attention,
rating a mention on NBCs Today Show and articles on news wire services.
A filmmaker also has contacted Skaggs regarding a documentary
he is making for the Discovery Channel on the photographers of Dealey Plaza.
However, Skaggs takes it all in stride. “When youre nearly 83 years
old, you dont get too excited about this kind of thing anymore,”
he explains. (ABP)