Takes a lot to make me say WTF, but had one of those experiences this afternoon at East 32nd Street and Avenue D. I had identified a family living in the neigborhood from the target period. I stopped by, introduced myself, and then the owner's son interrupted.

With an umbrella.

I had conspiracy bumps -- the gooseflesh that conspirologists all say arises, unbidden, in the presence of some numinous Object or Witness. But the kid was larking, and the father was a total jerkwad who blew me off. Told me to examine the umbrella (which I did; wrong number of ribs for either Dealey Plaza or the HSCA doppleganger) and laughed me off his porch.

But there was something about holding it that gave me pause.

Maybe I've been doing this for too long.



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