Photo of the Day

With a bouquet of roses in her hand, First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy (1929 – 1994) and, behind her, U.S. President John F. Kennedy (1917 – 1963), greet the public at Love Field airport during a campaign tour in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963. The President was assassinated later that day. (Photo by Art Rickerby/Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images)

Jackie Kennedy: The Pink Suit

Even those who were not born when Kennedy was President are not immune to the horrific image of that perfect woman in that perfectly beautiful suit covered in blood

Jackie Kennedy’s pink suit is an iconic symbol of the horrible tragedy that occurred Nov. 22, 1963. The bloodstained boucle suit is still hidden away, more than 50 years after JFK’s assassination.

Jacqueline Kennedy’s wardrobe was chock full of enviable outfits, but perhaps none is more firmly engrained in our collective memory than the pink suit she wore the day her husband, the nation’s president, was killed.

Images of John F. Kennedy’s assassination and the events that followed have been seared into peoples collective memory: the convertible crossing in front of the grassy knoll, JFK Jr.’s funeral salute, Jackie’s pillbox hat and pink suit, stained with her husband’s blood.

While some historic artifacts from the event have been displayed in the years following President Kennedy’s death, Jackie’s iconic boucle ensemble with navy blue lapels still remains hidden from public eye, stored in a “custom made acid-free box” in the climate-controlled National Archives building in College Park, Maryland along with Oswald’s rifle, bullets and bullet fragments from the shooting, the original windshield of the limousine, and more than five million pages of assassination-related records.

A “line for line” replica of Chanel (as first lady, she needed to be seen in American-made clothing), the vibrant outfit was one of President Kennedy’s favourites. Jackie wore it several times before that tragic day in November, and President Kennedy thought she looked “smashing” in it.

He asked her to wear the suit in Dallas.

And after he was shot, she refused to take it off, not at the hospital and not on the flight back to Washington, even though it was caked with his blood.

“Let them see what they’ve done,” she said, refusing any suggestion that she clean herself up.

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Peak Oil? How come they keep finding more then?

We’ve all heard about peak oil…and it never seems to arrive. It is another lie pushed by the hippy brigade.

Breitbart reports on the  latest find:

A western Texas oil and natural gas shale formation was labeled the “largest” of its kind by the U.S. Geological Survey on Tuesday.

Federal surveyors announced that the Wolfcamp shale in the Midland Basin portion of Texas’ Permian Basin now holds the record for most oil, natural gas, and gas liquid deposits that are “undiscovered, technically recoverable resources.”

The USGS notes that within its survey spanning from north of Lubbock to remote regions southwest of San Angelo, an estimated and previously unaccounted for 20 billion barrels of crude oil; 16 trillion cubic feet of natural gas; and 1.6 billion barrels of natural gas liquids are able to be extracted by means typically involving slant drilling and hydraulic fracturing, commonly known as “fracking”. The figures are based on official methods that project untapped resources amid formations already surveyed and exploited.   Read more »

Photo of the Day

Refineries and oil storage tanks of the Monsanto chemical plant burn in the waterfront area in Texas City, Texas, on April 16, 1947. The disaster, caused by the explosion of the nitrate-laden French ship Grandcamp, caused 561 deaths. (AP Photo)

Refineries and oil storage tanks of the Monsanto chemical plant burn in the waterfront area in Texas City, Texas, on April 16, 1947. The disaster, caused by the explosion of the nitrate-laden French ship Grandcamp, caused approximately 600 deaths. (AP Photo)

Disaster Zone

The Texas City industrial disaster explosion of 1947,  was sparked by the fire and explosion of the S.S. Grandcamp in Texas City, Texas. The blast set off a chain of fires as well as a 15-foot (4.5-metre) tidal wave. Between 400 and 600 people were killed, with many thousands injured.

The S.S. Grandcamp was originally christened the S. S. Benjamin R. Curtis in Los Angeles in 1942. It served with the Pacific fleets during World War II. After the war was over, the U.S. government offered the ship to France to aid in the restoration of Europe. A French line renamed it S.S. Grandcamp after the beach at Normandy, “Grandcamp-les-bains.”

Before arriving in Texas City, the Grandcamp made several stops, including one in Belgium where sixteen cases of small arms ammunition were loaded onto the ship. After crossing the Atlantic, it docked in Cuba and Houston to exchange several freights of commonplace items like twine and peanuts before anchoring in the Port of Texas City at the North Slip of Pier O. The Grandcamp had docked in Texas City to pick up a load of ammonium nitrate fertilizer.

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Photo of the Day

Robin Doan photographed March 12, 2014, near Palo Duro Canyon. Photo: DARREN BRAUN.

Robin Doan photographed March 12, 2014, near Palo Duro Canyon. Photo: DARREN BRAUN.

 The Girl Who Saw Too Much

Texas family is gunned down in a deadly home invasion — but the shooter unknowingly leaves behind a witness.

In the fall of 2005, a young Missouri man, 23-year-old Levi King, went on a vicious and inexplicable 24-hour killing spree, first shooting an elderly man and his daughter-in-law in the rural community of Pineville, Missouri, then stealing their truck and driving to Texas, where he randomly stopped at a darkened farm house on the outskirts of the small Panhandle town of Pampa.

Dressed completely in black and toting an AK-47, King broke through the back door and immediately went to the master bedroom. He first put three bullets into the body of the home’s owner, 31-year-old Brian Conrad. He next fired two shots into Molly, the family’s dog. Then he turned his gun on Conrad’s 35-year-old pregnant wife, Michell, who was screaming. He shot her five times.

Michell’s ten-year-old daughter from a previous marriage, Robin Doan, was at the end of the hallway, crouched by her bedroom door, which was partially open. She saw King walk out of her mother and stepfather’s bedroom and head her way. She ran back to her bed and pulled the covers over her head. He stepped into her bedroom, aimed his gun at her, and pulled the trigger. The shot went wide, hitting a pillow, but Robin made a grunting noise and fell to the floor, pretending she was dead. King fell for her act. He turned around, walked into a third bedroom, and shot Robin’s fourteen-year-old brother, Zach. King then walked into the kitchen and rummaged around for food before driving away.

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Turkeys vote for an early Christmas in Texas

In a move so poorly thought out that they may as well have painted  a bullseye on their foreheads, organisers of the Houston Pride celebration have declared their parade to be gun-free. They made this extraordinary decision less than two weeks after the slaughter at the Orlando gay nightclub. Their decision has served them up as defenceless targets to any would-be an Islamic terrorist. As we all know, terrorists are cowards and like their targets to be unarmed and defenceless. If terrorists do decide to take up their invitation to slaughter them like the incredibly naive turkeys they are, I hope that the other citizens of Texas observing the parade are able to defend them with their concealed  firearms.


As reported by Breitbart Texas, organizers have remained steadfast to their declaration that no one can carry firearms.

This decision comes less than two weeks after the Orlando Islamic terrorist attack at a gay nightclub which killed almost 50 people and wounded more than 50 more. This tragedy happened at another “gun-free zone.”

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Photo Of The Day

Joanne Webb, left, looks on as her atorney BeAnn Sisemore addresses the media Monday Dec. 15, 2003, at the Johnson County Courthouse in Cleburne, Texas, after a hearing. Webb intended to spice up marriages and earn extra cash by selling erotic toys as one of Passion Parties Inc.'s 3,000 national consultants.

Joanne Webb, left, looks on as her attorney BeAnn Sisemore addresses the media Monday Dec. 15, 2003, at the Johnson County Courthouse in Cleburne, Texas, after a hearing. Webb intended to spice up marriages and earn extra cash by selling erotic toys as one of Passion Parties Inc.’s 3,000 national consultants.

Good… Good…Good


How a Woman Who Sold Sex Toys In Burleson Became Public Enemy Number One and Survived the Bad Buzz

It seems in 2003, one Joanne Webb had the gall to purvey sex toys in local Tupperware-type theme parties for all the ladies in the fair burg of Burleson, Texas, just a stone’s throw from Fort Worth in neighbouring Johnson County. She owned a franchise in a company called Passion Parties, which specializes in these girls-night-in parties where they can see and buy marital aids, sex toys, whatever you want to call them. The State of Texas deems them “an obscene device.” More on that later. Well, seems someone tipped the local police to her shenanigans, and a deep undercover operator from the Burleson P.D. infiltrated one of her parties and bought two of the contraband devices from her. A few days later, this mother of three, Baptist Church member, former school teacher, and former executive member of the local chamber of commerce, was indicted on Class A misdemeanour charges for her nefarious deeds. A Class A misdemeanour is the same level of charge as spousal assault, DWI, animal cruelty, and possession of a usable quantity of marijuana.

On a hot August afternoon in Burleson, a quiet bedroom community of 25,000 residents and 53 churches just south of Fort Worth, an attractive 43-year-old woman named Joanne Webb is preparing for a sales presentation. Sitting in the family room of her custom-built home, the walls filled with photos of her husband and her three children, she lays out the products that she plans to show her customers later that evening. She flicks the switches on some of the products to see if they are buzzing properly. She flicks the switches on others to make sure they are moving up and down or in a circular motion. She checks to see if she has the manuals that will teach her customers how to use these devices in innovative ways. “Honey,” calls her husband, Chris, from the kitchen, “you want anything to eat?”

“Not right now, sweetheart,” says Joanne. “I’ve got to get some new batteries into the Nubby G.”

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Photo Of The Day

Marie Robards poisoned her own father. A reading of Hamlet made her confess. (Yearbook photo, police photo, documentary 'Les Enquetes Posibles").

Marie Robards poisoned her own father. A reading of Hamlet made her confess. (Yearbook photo, police photo, documentary ‘Les Enquetes Posibles”).

Poisoning Daddy

How a So Called Loving Daughter and Star Student Stole Barium Acetate From Her High School Chemistry Lab, Put it in Her Father’s Refried Beans, and Almost Got Away With Murder.

Fort Worth, Texas – 16-year-old Dorothy Marie Robards was a beautiful, intelligent girl. She was also every boy next door’s dream: long-legged with gorgeous brown eyes Robards was the most popular girl at  Granbury High School. Robards and her mother Beth Burroughs, had a sisterly relationship, more so than that of parent and child. They chatted well into the night. Robards loved regaling her mother with tales of her many amours and her school achievements. Later, a court psychologist would claim, “When I saw them, they were quite affectionate in an overt fashion, hugging one another, finishing each other’s sentences. It wasn’t anything pathological, anything dark or disturbing. But they acted more like contemporaries than mother and daughter. They were like sisters who had grown up together.”

  “Are you, like, serious?” exclaims the preppily dressed Stacey High. “Have you ever gotten a good look at her? Marie is, like, gorgeous! In high school she was one of the most mature girls I had ever met. I thought, ‘Wow, if I hang around her, she’ll keep me motivated, help me act a little more serious.’”

Stacey stares at a prom photograph of her and Marie Robards, her best friend during her senior year in high school. “We used to do everything together. I mean, everything. And then I find out that she has gone off and poisoned her dad for this totally crazy reason. I mean, how weird is that?”

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Photo Of The Day

Catt Family Bank Robbers: Father Ronald Scott Catt And 2 Children Suspected Of Multiple Heists.

Catt Family Bank Robbers : Father Ronald Scott Catt And 2 Children Suspected Of Multiple Heists. Catt, 50, and his 20 year old son Hayden are alleged to have carried out the raids while 18 year old Abigail acted as the getaway driver.

I Would Only Rob Banks For My Family

The Catts of Katy, Texas seemed to be a normal, quiet, family before their secret lives as bank robbers were revealed.

Scott Catt, 50, and his 20-year-old son Hayden and 18-year-old daughter Abby stole $100,000 in two bank robberies before they were arrested at their apartment complex.

In a confessional prison interview, Scott Catt tells  how he recruited his two children to become his accomplices in crime.

‘All I can tell you is that I thought it would help us as a family,’ Catt said.

‘I did it for the family,’ he said. ‘I swear to you, I would only rob banks for my family.’

Just after sunrise on the morning of August 9, 2012, in the Houston suburb of Katy, Scott Catt, a fifty-year-old structural engineer, was awakened by the buzzing of his alarm clock in the master bedroom of the apartment he shared with his twenty-year-old son, Hayden, and his eighteen-year-old daughter, Abby. The apartment was in Nottingham Place, a pleasant, family-oriented complex that featured a resort-size swimming pool and a large fitness center.

Scott took a shower, dried off, and ran a brush through his closely cropped, graying hair. He put on a T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and some work boots and walked into the living room, where Abby and Hayden were waiting for him on the couch. Hayden was also wearing a T-shirt and jeans, along with some slip-on tennis shoes. His short dark hair was brushed forward, splayed over his forehead. Abby, whose highlighted blond hair fell to her shoulders, was wearing a blouse, black yoga pants, and flip-flops.

“Okay, kids,” Scott said. “You ready?”

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Photo Of The Day

J.L. Hunter "Red" Rountree in prison, 2004. Photo DAN WINTERS.

J.L. Hunter “Red” Rountree in prison, 2004. Photo DAN WINTERS.

One of the Most Inept Bank Robberies in American History

At the age that most men are either dead or dozing in their La-Z-Boys, enjoying retirement, JL Hunter Rountree began his second career: Robbing Banks

Red Rountree, 92 “You want to know why I rob banks?” asked the oldest known bank robber in America in an interview..

“It’s fun. I feel good. Awful good.”

While some geriatrics spend the twilight of their lives fishing or golfing, sitting on the beach with a romance paperback or showing everyone who doesn’t care photos of their grandkids, J.L. Hunter “Red” Rountree went on a crime spree.

Born and raised in his family’s farmstead near Brownsville, TX, in what was the Golden Age of American bank-robbery, Rountree walked the straight-and-narrow life of an ordinary citizen until his 80s. Indeed, he was once a well-to-do businessman. According to a relative, Rountree made a fortune when he founded the Houston-based Rountree Machinery Co., which manufactured industrial tubing.

But then came the two things that every man should avoid: a younger woman and a bank loan. As business went south, Rountree’s payments on his refinancing loan were harder and harder to meet. A year after his first wife died, Rountree, at the age of 76, married a 31-year-old woman and then spent almost half a million dollars putting her through a drug rehabilitation program (the sum he spent on Viagra was never reported).

The bank didn’t care about substance-abuse problems; it just wanted its money. At this point, Rountree decided he didn’t like banks very much.

In 1998, at the age of 86, the short, scrawny redhead held up a South Trust Bank in Biloxi, MS. A year later he knocked over a Nations Bank in Pensacola, FL. This time he wasn’t that lucky; he was apprehended and sentenced, leniently, to three years in a state prison. In 2002 he was released on probation.

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Photo Of The Day

Crime Scene. A surveillance camera captured Peggy Jo Tallus, wearing men's clothes and a fake beard, during a robbery in 1992.

Crime Scene. A surveillance camera captured Peggy Jo Tallas, wearing men’s clothes and a fake beard, during a robbery in 1992.

Cowboy Bob’s Last Ride

 The Unlikely Bank Robber was Called ‘Grandmotherly’ and ‘A Kind Lady’… 

He wore a Western hat, never spoke a word, and robbed bank after bank. When the feds finally arrested him, they discovered that their suspect was actually a soft-spoken woman. They thought they’d never hear from her again— but she had other plans.

The story of Peggy Jo Tallas, by most accounts a kind-hearted woman who took care of her ailing mother and also had a successful and wild ride as a bank robber.

But Peggy Jo didn’t just rob a bank, According to the FBI, she was one of the most unusual bank robbers of her generation, a modern-day Bonnie without a Clyde who always worked alone…. She was also a master of disguise, her cross-dressing outfits so carefully designed that law enforcement officials, studying bank surveillance tapes, had no idea they were chasing a woman.

She was wild in her younger days, always looking to escape the humdrum for adventure. But as she matured, she had seemed to settle down. Never married, she lived with and cared daily for her ailing mother. No one would have suspected she would be the one to disguise herself as a man, rob lots of banks, and go to jail. Nor would they suspect she’d continue to rob them in her old age.

Outlaws and desperadoes have been giving lawmen headaches as long as there’re been banks to stick-up. There was “Butch and Sundance,” “Bonnie and Clyde,” and “Pretty Boy” Floyd to name just a few.

But it was Cowboy Bob who bedeviled a onetime Texas FBI agent. Bank robbers aren’t keen on having their pictures taken and Cowboy Bob wasn’t showing the bank security cameras much more than a 10 gallon hat, oversized shades, a mustache, and a Santa-length beard.

In the early ‘90s he started knocking off one suburban Dallas bank after another. FBI man Steve Powell and his bank robbery unit saddled-up after the cool-as-can be bandit they dubbed Cowboy Bob.

Cowboy Bob’s M.O. rarely changed. Stroll in, slip the teller a note signaling this was a hold-up—no alarms, no tricks. Then without a word spoken, he’d calmly walk out with the stolen cash.

One time, Cowboy Bob even showed a little flair that might have tickled Butch Cassidy himself. Every time, Cowboy Bob made a clean escape in a burnt orange Pontiac Grand Prix.  The license plate— always stolen— changed on every hold-up.

From May of ‘91 to May of ‘92 the 10-gallon bandit, described as a white male, about 5’10”, mid-40’s robbed four banks in the greater Dallas area.  He seemed to be grabbing money at will.

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