FOR the first time, a British television news programme is to cover the world from the world.

In The World Tonight starting on Tuesday, an international television link-up will put on your screens a running news documentary that has never been attempted before.

It will show the world to Britain as the world sees itself — not simply as a snap report from camera crews who dash in and out from one news area to another.

In the past, as the programme’s executive producer Tim Hewat points out: “British TV has covered the world from London. This, apart from other disadvantages, has led to producing stories that are exclusively British orientated. We see things happening in, say, Tokyo, as through British eyes. We will show them happening as seen through the eyes of people in their particular part of the world.”

To achieve this global flavour The World Tonight has set up a complex network of five key bureaux where permanent representatives will compile their reports.

As in London, there will be a The World Tonight team in Rome, and Tokyo. Paris and New York, plus roving producers Dietrich Koch and Russell Spurr. We introduce to you here these highly specialised people and take you into the environments from which they work to bring you The World Tonight.

Over to Tokyo and Australian journalist John Maher. Tucked away on the ground floor of a four-storey building of Fuji Telecasting Company is the cramped but efficient nerve centre of The World Tonight‘s Japanese bureau.

Space in this building, which houses most of the throbbing soul of Japanese TV, is at a premium. But John opted for his tiny, 10ft. square, pastel green office with its duck-egg blue Venetian blinds right here next to the cameramen and technicians, rather than select a more spacious apartment away from all the action.

To New York: Imagine Wardour Street, running like a spine through London’s Soho — spiritual home of British film-makers. Now imagine it blown out, big and broad and wide. That’s 53rd Street where nearly every door leads to a film studio, a cutting room, a producer’s plush office, a script writer’s den.

Here, for the new programme, work producer John McDonald and reporter Bill Biery in a comfortable atmosphere of controlled luxury. Off-white, deep-pile carpets, a Telex machine mumbling quietly to itself in a corner, leather chairs, coloured telephones. Efficiency — American style.

To Rome: Producer on the spot is Hugh Pitt. His beat ranges from the entire Mediterranean coast to the troubled oil kingdoms of the Middle East.

London: Reporter Jo Durden-Smith is 23, one year down from Oxford. He works from West End offices with live con tradictory clocks, a massive wall chart and an ordered confusion of scripts.

Paris: Sparkling, magic, feminine city. Appropriately, a woman-on-the-spot — Producer Joan Harrison, chooses to work from her sedate apartment a stroll from the Champs Elysées. In this fashionable part of the city she sits with French reporter: Denise Fabré sifting material.

All aiming to bring the world to you.

The post Watch on the world appeared first on THIS IS GRANADA from Transdiffusion.

On 15th April, 1865, in the last weeks of the American Civil War, Vice-President Andrew Johnson became the seventeenth President of the United States. He succeeded Abraham Lincoln who had been shot while attending a performance at Ford’s Theatre the previous evening. Ninety-nine years later a second Vice-President Johnson succeeded to the Presidency after another assassination.

The week after its programme from Dallas World in Action moved to a second town in Texas to investigate the background of the West’s new leader. Tim Hewat took the team to Johnson City.

Life for the people of Johnson City is slow. The motorist, hurrying along Texas route 281 linking San Antonio and Wichita Falls, could well fail to notice the town. Its people are typical hill folk, unhurried, with plenty of time to talk. Many of them work in the saddle, although today most cowboys drive their horses from one part of the range to the other – and some of them just drive all the time.

The people of Johnson City are modest people, like George Biars, who has been mayor for fifteen years, largely, he says, because no one else wants the job at a salary of eight shillings a day [40p in decimal, about £7 in today’s money allowing for inflation – Ed].

The biggest thing in town is, of course, Lyndon B. Johnson himself, whose grandfather gave his name to the place. Mr. Johnson was born in a two-room home and he went to school at Johnson City High School. His first job was shining shoes. Then he worked on the roads. Today, Mr. Johnson lives in his own ranch, the L.B.J., on the banks of the Pedernales River. And, partly through his marriage to “Ladybird” Johnson, he is comfortably off. Mrs. Johnson was the chairman of the television and radio station, K.T.B.C. in Austin, Texas, until her husband became President when all the Johnsons’ wealth was put in the hands of trustees.

Highpoints in Johnson City life are the barbecue parties that Mr. Johnson gives from time to time at the L.B.J. for visiting V.I.P.s. One such party was for President Ayub Khan, of Pakistan, who was showered with gifts. Another party was for thirty ambassadors from newly-independent African nations.

Naturally the people of Johnson City admire Mr. Johnson greatly. And, naturally, they are all watching closely to see how he is getting on as President in Washington. But the event they all remember, and indeed the Texas politicians in the State capital at Austin also remember, is Mr. Johnson’s speech at his old university in 1961, for that was the time, they say, when he recorded his philosophy and his beliefs.

Mr. Johnson was Vice-President at the time and he was speaking to students on graduation day at the State College of South-West Texas, near Austin, 42 miles from Johnson City.

“I have a long, well-worded, carefully-drafted speech, he began, “all of which I’m going to stand behind and none of which I’m going to read, because we are faced with the hour of decision and it is you that is going to make the decision.

“In the world today we have two great systems; strong systems competing with each other for the mind of man. One is the collective communist system. One is the democratic system. One is the system of slavery. One is the system of freedom. And each man in each country on the face of the globe is sitting up there in judgement on those systems. The average father and mother want for their children just what you want for yours – relatively simple tastes they have. They want a place to worship, a school to train their minds, food for their stomachs, clothes for their back, a roof over their head, and a little recreation now and then. And that’s about all the average man and woman, wherever he lives, desires. That’s about the extent of his ambition. And now he’s looking at these two systems to see which one offers him and his family the greatest promise for the future.

You are a product of the democratic system. Because of your sacrifices and your diligence, you are concluding a course today and going out into the world. You are some of he privileged people because a relatively small percentage of our total population has the privilege of sitting here with caP and gown on. And therefore you have a very special responsibility to the system that produced you; the system at made it possible for you to have a trained mind and a sound body.

“The three greatest friends that Communism has are illiteracy, poverty, and disease. And they’re the three greatest enemies that our democratic system has. And if you haven’t learned it, you ought to hear it now – that our nation, the richest in the world, the most powerful in the world, is out-numbered 18 to 1 in the world. And no nation can long enjoy great applause when all of its neighbours and all of its friends and all the other nations are impoverished.

“So you, as the leaders and the products of our system, have got to help us in the years ahead to find a solution to eradicating poverty, to improving the standard of men and women and children’s living, to improving their housing, to cleaning their slums, to stamping out the diseases of cancer and heart and all the other killers, so that in your time and my time when these two systems come in mortal combat with each other, you can proudly say Democracy has worked; the proof of the puddin’s in the eatin’, and the coon’s skin’s on the wall: we have educated all our young; we have provided security for our old; we have cleaned our slums; we have made home-owners of our people; we have driven disease underground. We have not sat back and lived with our selfishness and with our greed. We have not been content to be misers. We have practised the Golden Rule. We have done unto others as we would have them do unto us. Yes, we have marched forward like zealots – with a missionary zeal to try to make San Marcus and South-West Texas College and Central Texas and Johnson City a better place than we found it. We have tried to make this a better world than we were born into, and we are determined and dedicated to reward our Maker with the fruits of our labours and we are determined that they shall be made.”

Then Mr. Johnson talked of his visit to South-East Asia, to Saigon, the capital of troubled Viet-Nam.

“When I went into the dark streets of Saigon,” he continued, “my secret service men had cables from our Intelligence people saying that ‘you must be very careful and not get out of your car, you must be surrounded completely with security people, and never shake hands, because this is a very dangerous period – 14 were killed in the town last night – 4,000 mayors and city officials have been killed in this area this year.’ And I said ‘If they don’t want me to speak to them and to talk with them, then let’s don’t go.’ Because I want to know them and I want them to know me. I want to know Asia and I want Asia to know America. And I have learned in my limited experience in this world that you can usually look into a person’s eyes and see what is in his heart. And I want them to look into my eyes and into the eyes of the United States of America.

“We tore the big Air Force signs off of our plane and just painted on Old Glory. We tore the United States Military Air Transport sign down and we just put ‘The United States of America’ on our 707 jet. And we looked into their eyes and we think they could see what was in our hearts because they came in thousands and tens of thousands would surge forward like an Atlantic wave just to touch the hands of someone from America; just with the hope that maybe, perhaps, somehow, somewhere, their little child could get rid of the tape-worms in his stomach and have a chance, that only one out of ten there now have, of getting into school.

“And I’ll tell you that after three or four days we not only looked in their eyes and saw what was in their hearts, but we instilled in them a determination to climb and climb and climb until they reach the top of the hill so that their children could have a school and their children could have food and their children could have clothes on their back.

“I came back to Washington, not distressed, not discouraged; I came back strong in the belief that when people know each other, they understand each other, and if they understand each other, they don’t need to fight each other.

“So if they ask you what he said at your graduation address, you try to remember that he said that you were walking into a world of opportunity, not a world of obstacles; that you were a special missionary for democracy; that you owe freedom and liberty so much that you wanted everybody to have a little bit of it; and that you realized the principal enemies of freedom and liberty were illiteracy and impoverishment and disease; and that you in your own little way with your sheepskin, regardless of how much they paid you per hour or per day or per week, if there was enough to sustain you, you were going out to make war on these things, so that the people of the world could live in peace and prosperity.”

The post L. B. J. appeared first on THIS IS GRANADA from Transdiffusion.

A WOMAN whose actions would echo round the world in a few hours’ time, drove her car up to the gates of Wakefield prison.

“Friend or relative?” asked a warder.

“Friend,” she replied.

“OK,” he said and led her to a visiting room.

Inside, a pale man sat at a bare table. His face had been prominently featured in newspapers and magazines throughout the world. He wore a navy-blue, battledress-style uniform and white shirt. He fingered round-lensed, steel-rimmed spectacles. He had been “inside” for eight years.

They exchanged pleasantries and she handed him the book he had asked her to bring. Boris Pasternak’s “Doctor Zhivago.” They talked earnestly for half an-hour, the woman memorising everything he said. A warder stood stolidly a few feet away.

Daily Express reporter Esther Rose had become the first journalist to interview Dr. Klaus Fuchs, after the atom scientist had been sentenced to 14 years’ imprisonment in 1950 for revealing atom secrets to the Russians.

Next day, Esther’s paper splashed a banner headline across its front-page: “FUCHS SPEAKS IN JAIL”. That headline went round the world. It was printed in nearly every language except Russian.

Esther, now editor of Granada’s The Headliners (Wednesdays), recalled: “They raised hell in the House of Commons. Everybody wanted to know how I’d got away with it. It was dynamite. It’s still a trade secret. They never even asked me why, if I was a friend, I’d suddenly shown up after eight years. They never examined the book. For all they knew, I might have been someone from ‘the other side’.”

Corridors of power buzzed with speculation. The Fuchs’ case had been one of the biggest spy trials of the first half of the 20th century and British security services hoped that the fuss was all over. In fact, it had begun again.

Fuchs told Esther: “I am going to East Germany when I am free.”

A year later, he did so. Esther Rose remains the only reporter to have spoken at length with him. Her persistence at Wakefield paid off.

Similar application stamps her work as editor of The Headliners. She retains her flair for inspiring confidences and obtaining colourful material. She defined the art of editing: “It’s a sort of seventh sense about what can be done about what will make compulsive viewing. It’s a question of picking the right stories, hammering them into shape and presenting them in the best way.

“Television and newspaper editing are equally difficult but in different ways. In television you must explain to the eye — you must let people see as much as possible. What you do must be seen to be done.”

Esther is amused by the fact that she had to leave newspapers to become an editor. Her uncle was Henry Rose, Northern Sports Editor of the Daily Express, who died in the Munich air crash, and her husband, Harry Whewell, is News Editor of The Guardian.

But she consoles herself with the thought that it was an ex-newspaper man, Tim Hewat, formerly of the Daily Express, who made her editor of The Headliners.

“He proved himself equally at home with the Press and television,” she said.

There are two other Tims in this energetic woman’s life: Tim Thomas, the young graduate who introduces The Headliners, and, most important of all, her three year old son Tim. “Mine’s called Tim-Tim to distinguish him from the others,” she said.

Esther manages to preserve a nice balance between her home life and work with The Headliners — proving that “editing can be a woman’s world, despite what some of the men say.”

The post Woman behind the headlines appeared first on THIS IS GRANADA from Transdiffusion.

“THIS,” said a member of the World in Action team wryly, “is not a show to work for if you like to sleep regularly and are fond of your family.”

“It’s the way newspapers used to be in the old days,” chipped in Alex Valentine (ex-Fleet Street) without a trace of nostalgia.

“It’s a dictatorship,” boomed Tim Hewat, the 35 year old Australian dynamo who heads the team as executive producer. “It has to be to get the right results.”

Youngest of all television’s current affairs programmes (it began only last January), World in Action has brought a new style of television journalism into existence.

There are no link-men or pundits. Stories break down into three categories — profiles, inquiries and exposes. “Tough, tireless noseyness in the best traditions of good journalism,” The Spectator called it.

Behind the scenes, it is the tirelessness that distinguishes the whole operation. On a story about airlines the team travelled thousands of miles in two days, passed through 19 customs posts in 58 hours. Sleep? “We snatched it where we could.” said [Bill] Grundy. “On the plane, on an airport seat, sometimes even in taxis.”

Stephen Peet, after working for several weeks on his sensational film of East Germany, saw it edited and cut and prepared for transmission. Then he drifted into the office the following Monday for what he thought would be “a quiet day to enjoy my triumph. I should have known better — I didn’t get home until 3 a.m.”

Alex Valentine had to get up at dawn every day for a week in order to film petrol tankers filling up with supplies for his story on the cut-price petrol war.

Hewat and another member of the production team (there are six producers including Hewat, aided by three researchers) sat up all night editing and cutting and writing the commentary for the story on gambling.

When the Zermatt typhoid story broke last March, Tim Hewat decided it was too hot to ignore.

Two camera teams flew to Switzerland and by train to Zermatt and Davos. On the advice of the Public Health Laboratory, they made them selves self-supporting. (“They mustn’t eat or drink anything while there,” warned an official. “They mustn’t even brush their teeth.”)

The team disembarked from the mountain railway at Zermatt with 67 pieces of equipment, to be met by hostile officials who refused their co-operation.

So while Hewat argued, his chief cameraman, David Samuelson, crept away with a silent camera and shot 600ft. of film. But by the time he returned, Hewat had talked the officials round. By Friday night, Hewat and his men were back from Switzerland and the job of cutting and editing began.

The post TOUGH and TIRELESS – that’s World in Action appeared first on THIS IS GRANADA from Transdiffusion.

On 22nd November, 1963 John F. Kennedy, thirty-fourth President of the United States was shot dead in Dallas, Texas. For a cataclysmic moment it was as if the sun had gone out. The world became suddenly unfamiliar; the darkness of evil seemed to close in on it. Without Kennedy what would happen? There was horror, anger, shock, sorrow, fear. And bitterness too – bitterness that the first modern man to reach world leadership had been so cruelly destroyed.

Tim Hewat flew out to Dallas with the World in Action team and a few days later, Thanksgiving Day, he presented this portrait of the city where Kennedy was murdered.

This is a special day in the city of Dallas in the State of Texas, U.S.A. It is what the Americans call “Thanksgiving” – the 342nd anniversary of the day the first British settlers put aside to give thanks to God for their new home, new life, new hopes. But in Dallas, where the people probably have more riches to give thanks for than any other city on earth, there is no thankfuness. For it was here that President Kennedy was shot down. And it was here – in the basement of a police station – that the man accused of killing him, Lee Oswald, was shot down in turn by the operator of a strip-tease joint, the Carousel burlesque house.

In Dallas this Thanksgiving Day, the people know that the eyes of all America and indeed the whole world are upon them. And those eyes see not just the outward signs of affluence, of violence, and of sheer bigness which they might expect of a city whose citizens rejoice to call it Big D. Instead they see a city of fantastic opposites. Dallas is rich all right. It is also grinding poor. Many a home less than a mile from the central post office looks out on an unmade dirt road. One in five of Dallas’s million and quarter people are Negroes. Another forty thousand Mexicans, peasants who came north across the border. A further handful – perhaps four thousand – are Red Indians, Apaches and Cherokees. The riches of Dallas are not for them.

Dallas has not always been rich. 120 years ago when Queen Victoria was on the English throne, it was a township, an unimportant part of the Lone Star State – the independent Republic of Texas. Fifty years ago it was what they call a cow town, a rough, tough centre for ranching. It was only thirty-three years ago that one Columbus M. Joiner brought in a gusher, struck oil in East Texas and started the richest field in America.

Dallas grew up on oil and became perhaps the biggest boom town of all time. Today the oil fortunes of just one generation have been directed into making Big D one of the most important banking, insurance and space-age industrial cities in the U.S. The Chamber of Commerce cannot say how many millionaires live in town, certainly run into thousands. And they tend to live up the Texas legend for bigness. Many of them use aeroplanes in much the same way other people use the family car. At their own particular shop, Nieman-Marcus, they can go shopping for a £7,000 midget submarine; or a £4 their dog. At the fine art shops scattered everywhere they are able to satisfy their expensive hunger for culture.

But at the other end of town, down Deep Elm Street where the shops are mean and garish, people go shopping for other merchandise. They go shopping for gun. Strangely, while one can buy a gun and ammunition for dollars in Dallas, one cannot buy whisky or gin in a bar. For the power of the churches – and there are all sorts in the city, including separate ones for Negroes – is such that their campaign for temperance affects the law. To drink spirits legally it is necessary to buy a full bottle from shop. This you carry into the bar or restaurant which sells you ice and soda water. It is only from the sale of beer and wine – and soda water – that the bars make money.

Odd frustrations like this help to explain, perhaps, why Dallas not only has the very rich and the very poor, but also the most outspoken political extremists in America. Men like General Walker, who, during President Kennedy’s administration, flew the Stars and Stripes upside down on his front lawn, who constantly attacks the United Nations, and sets about the churches.

There are more dangerous people. Like those who distributed in Dallas loathsome allegations about John Kennedy’s private life – all of them lies. Like those who spat on Adlai Stevenson. Like those who roughed up Lyndon B. Johnson and his wife.

On the day of the assassination, the Dallas Morning News, itself right-wing, published an unknown committee’s advertisement, which is being investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation after Congressmen described it as: “Vicious, cruel and abusive; the kind of verbiage that tends to incite fanatics.”

The most extreme group of all is the John Birch Society – militantly anti-Negro, anti-Government, anti-United Nations.

World in Action visited the home of Mrs. Beth Anderson Rachel who has done publicity work for the Society.

“I feel keenly the personal loss of Mr. Kennedy among my friends,” she said, “but I disagreed with him diametrically politically and I don’t feel the loss in that respect. We disagreed with the extensive Federal programme of aid, financial aid, to the people of the States. We feel this should be handled primarily by the States if there needs to be any aid. We think the American people are quite capable of shouldering their own responsibilities whether it be their school lunch programmes or aid to their aged or dependent relatives, or aid of whatever nature.

“We certainly disagreed with Mr. Kennedy on foreign affairs particularly in his support of the United Nations which many of my associates and I feel is just about the worst instrument to have hit this earth. We disapprove of sitting down and collaborating with people who are known to be our enemies. We would not think, at the local level, of sitting down and conniving, if you will, with robbers, murderers, thieves, and we do not feel we should do this on a national or international level.

“Federal aid or the shouldering of the people’s responsibilities, taking on the responsibilities that people should assume for themselves, leads we feel quite strongly to a police state. This is the threat of the Federal shouldering of persons’ responsibilities. We think of it and often refer to it as ‘Big Daddy Government’.”

World in Action talked about extremists to the Mayor of Dallas, Earle Cabell, who is, inevitably, a millionaire:

“We have extremists on the one side who want no participation whatsoever by the Federal Government in the affairs of the nation that are not matters of national defence, for instance. These are the extreme right. We have another group on the other side of that spectrum that want the Federal Government to take over all of the operation of business, and railroads, and let the Federal Government operate a municipal and State government – these are the extreme Liberals. Although all these groups are definitely in a minority in so far as our whole population is concerned, they are rather articulate and the fact that they make a lot of noise sometimes gives the impression that they are greater in numbers than they actually are.”

The Mayor was echoed by Captain Glen King, spokesman for the Dallas police department: “We have within the Department a Criminal Intelligence Unit whose responsibility it is to investigate the activities of these groups. We have people who are racists who believe in the supremacy of one group over another group. These are not unusual. We haven’t any kind of an extremist group that you won’t find anywhere else.”

Another man keen to talk about the political outsiders was Tom Howard, the cigar-smoking lawyer who defended Jack Ruby, accused of murdering the assassin Oswald. Mr. Howard’s office is opposite police headquarters and more than fifty alleged murderers have come to him for help. He has saved them all from the death sentence.

“The extremists in Dallas are quite fierce,” he said. “They are primarily the John Birch Society group. They have received a great deal of encouragement particularly from one of our local newspapers. I might say that this group is a very small group and do not represent the views of the majority of the people of Dallas by any means, but as I said, they have been encouraged by people that have a great deal of wealth, that have very extreme right-wing views.”

Of course, extremists are not typical of the people of Dallas; but they have their influence. For all, however, the highpoint of Thanksgiving is the family dinner party, usually held at about half past five in the afternoon. The almost obligatory dish: roast turkey. World in Action went to a typical wealthy family’s dinner at the home of Mr. and Mrs. John Wisenbaker on the outskirts of Dallas. John Wisenbaker is a geologist and runs an international oil engineering business. He is, of course, a millionaire and he has furnished his home with oriental furniture, an indoor garden and a valuable bird. At gratce before the meal he said, “Now let us observe a moment in silent meditation. Our Father, we thank Thee for this wonderful land of ours. We thank Thee for peace and for freedom. We thank Thee for this lovely sunny Thanksgiving Day. We thank Thee for our family and for our friends. We thank Thee for this food and for good health. We pray that Thou will continue to bless this household and ail mankind throughout the world – Amen.”

Very different, but certainly not an isolated case, was the Thanksgiving dinner of Mrs. Pearl Fuller, a 79-year-old Negro widow whose two children have moved to California. Her menu, in her shack among acres of shacks, was tinned meat and boiled beans, beans provided free by the Government.

The newspapers reported that in his cell in the City court house, Jack Ruby ate a hearty Thanksgiving meal. Rut shortly afterwards his lawyer, Tom Howard, said: “He’s always, to my way of thinking, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He is just the type of man to be affected by the events that occurred in the forty-eight hours before Oswald’s death. He’s just the kind of man that would become terribly mentally disturbed and mentally deranged by a thing like this.”

But in every Dallas home Thanksgiving dinner was haunted by three questions. First, why did it have to happen here? Some Dallas people, like the Reverend Wilfrid Bailey, Minister of the Casa View Methodist Church, say that the climate of the city was such as to encourage a fanatic; that years of extreme politics had poisoned the place. Also, it was a fact that Mr. Kennedy knew he was venturing into enemy territory – his trip was designed to rally again his waning supporters.

Second, was 24-year-old Lee Harvey Oswald the man who killed Mr. Kennedy, and if so, why? The evidence – of fingerprints, of opportunity, of the rifle itself – suggest he did. Certainly he was capable of killing, as the honour role of policemen killed on duty testifies, for, in the last remaining space, is the name of patrolman Tippett, seen by witnesses to be shot dead by Oswald. Why might Oswald do it? It is now clear beyond doubt that he was not only a most unpleasant young man, but an unstable one. He was clearly unbalanced. Most observers on the spot reject the idea that Oswald was either a hired assassin or that he acted as key man in a cruel plot. He was too unreliable for either proposition.

The third and last question is: how could the police allow another unstable man with criminal tendencies, Jack Ruby, to shoot Oswald in the basement of police headquarters. The Mayor, Mr. Cabell, offered one explanation:

“There was a terrific amount of confusion due to the hundreds of media people, television cameras, and so on. Permitting these television and news media people in wasn’t done for purposes of publicity, but was done in order to let the world know that Oswald was properly treated in order that when he was brought to trial there could not be the accusation that he was brutally treated or that his rights were in any way taken away from him. He was shown to news people regularly so that they know that he was being treated properly. Then, of course, when this one man was able to break that cordon, that is just one of those things that can sometimes happen. May I say that sometimes in football a full-back can break a terrific line where you would think it would be impossible. That would be comparable to this situation.”

For Big D families who stayed at home on Thanksgiving night there was a macabre piece of film on television. Dallas police reconstructed the assassination – using two stand-ins in a car similar to that used by Mr. Kennedy – but substituting a camera for the rifle in the right-hand window fifth floor of the book warehouse.

Many people did not stay at home, however. By Thanksgiving Night, the assassination was six days old and, like so many of Dallas’s businessmen, newspapermen and hotelmen, people were anxious to forget and to believe that Big D was a swinging town still. They filled the clubs and the late-night restaurants — remembering, of to take their own bottles.

Only in Jack Ruby’s Carousel was business slow. The girls worked to a handful of curious sightseers from out of town.

The fact of the matter is, that, try as it may, Dallas will find it hard to forget what happened here at half-past twelve on 22nd November, 1963. Indeed, it never will.

The post Big D appeared first on THIS IS GRANADA from Transdiffusion.