The proceeding was reconvened at 7:30 p.m.
Mr. HUBERT. Now, I understand that you returned to Chicago to live some
time prior to the war, is that correct?
Mrs. GRANT. Let’s see—every year I went home—I may have stayed a month,
3 months or 4 months.
Mr. HUBERT. No; I mean on a permanent basis.
Mrs. GRANT. I was never there permanent after I married Frank Grant. I
mean, if I was there—the longest time I was there is the year my father
was sick before he died.
Mr. HUBERT. All right; let me put it this way—I am going to ask you
if you know some names of people and if you don’t know them, all
right, but if you do know them, tell us what you know about them. For
instance, Frank Howard and Jack Howard—do you know those people?
Mrs. GRANT. No; I don’t, sir.
Mr. HUBERT. And a man by the name of Erwin Berke [spelling] B-e-r-k-e.
Do you know him?
Mrs. GRANT. Never—just doesn’t ring a bell, I never have heard the
name.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you know a man by the name of Sam Jaffe [spelling]
J-a-f-f-e?
Mrs. GRANT. No, sir.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you know a man by the name of Sam Chavin [spelling]
C-h-a-v-i-n?
Mrs. GRANT. No, sir.
Mr. HUBERT. Perhaps you knew his wife, Charlotte Chavin, who is the
daughter of Sam Jaffe, did you ever see her?
Mrs. GRANT. Where are they from; do you have an idea?
Mr. HUBERT. They were from Chicago, ma’am, and they subsequently moved
to Muncie, Ind.
Mrs. GRANT. I never heard of them—I never heard of them.
Mr. HUBERT. You never heard of them?
Mrs. GRANT. No, sir.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you ever know of any connection that Jack might have
had with those people?
Mrs. GRANT. It wasn’t a close connection. We knew some Jaffes—I mean,
as kids—they were in the undertaking business, but I haven’t heard of
them in years.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you know a daughter of Sam Jaffe whose name was
Charlotte and she married Sam Chavin?
Mrs. GRANT. No, sir; I can’t recall.
Mr. HUBERT. Then there was another daughter who married Erwin Berke.
Mrs. GRANT. What was her first name? Can I ask you a question—how far
back does the names go?
Mr. HUBERT. This would have been around the period of the war—1942 to
1946.
Mrs. GRANT. I wasn’t around Chicago that much in those years—you see—I
was here and on the west coast.
Mr. HUBERT. In any case, these names don’t ring a bell?
Mrs. GRANT. No, sir; I can’t place them at all unless they are
mispronounced or misspelled, but Jaffes—I did know.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you know any Jaffes who moved from Chicago to Muncie,
Ind.?
Mrs. GRANT. No; no.
Mr. HUBERT. The Jaffes you did know were in an earlier period; is that
right?
Mrs. GRANT. That’s right.
Mr. HUBERT. And as far as you know, they didn’t move to Muncie, Ind.?
Mrs. GRANT. In the last 25 years—I can’t place the name close to Jack
or me.
Mr. HUBERT. What about Paul Labriola [spelling] L-a-b-r-i-o-l-a?
Mrs. GRANT. No.
Mr. HUBERT. What about Hershey Colvin?
Mrs. GRANT. I never heard those names.
Mr. HUBERT. Jimmy Weinberg?
Mrs. GRANT. We are—my mother had a niece that was married to a
Weinberg, but there is not one name like that in the family—no Jimmies.
Mr. HUBERT. Now, you did, of course, move ultimately to Dallas, which
has been your home, I take it, for some period?
Mrs. GRANT. On and off for over 20 years—22 years.
Mr. HUBERT. When did you first come to Dallas?
Mrs. GRANT. I think it was in 1942 or 1943, I was here for a little
while.
Mr. HUBERT. For how long?
Mrs. GRANT. For a few months at least it seems.
Mr. HUBERT. What was the purpose of coming here to Dallas; do you
remember?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, I came to look—Al Kamin owned the Marlene Sales and he
had costume jewelry and he wanted me to sell it, you know, in little
stores and I took a sample and I didn’t sell it. I had several samples
and I went to work selling magazines for a company, it seems, out of
Los Angeles—I don’t know what year it was.
Mr. HUBERT. This was in Dallas?
Mr. GRANT. Oh, yes; but I mean this particular agency handles all
magazines.
Mr. HUBERT. How long did you stay in Dallas during that period?
Mrs. GRANT. It seems a couple of months—I don’t know—then, I went home.
You see, I think it was during the summer—I left my son there in the
summer—I just can’t remember—honest to God.
Mr. HUBERT. Weren’t you in some sort of an export-import business?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, yes; but that was later—I think it was in 1944, 1945,
1946, and 1947.
Mr. HUBERT. Now, you were living in Dallas on a rather permanent basis
during those years?
Mrs. GRANT. After that—yes.
Mr. HUBERT. So, I gather from your testimony you would fix a time of
your permanent domicile or residence in Dallas as about 1944?
Mrs. GRANT. It seems to me I stayed more here—then. I was here—I would
think 3 or 4 years. Even if I went to Chicago I didn’t stay long.
Mr. HUBERT. I understand, but your home in the normal sense of the word
would have been Dallas after 1944?
Mrs. GRANT. I would say from that time on I was just here until 1948,
constantly, well, I mean outside of every year—leaving for a few weeks.
Mr. HUBERT. Well, now—what was the export-import business?
Mrs. GRANT. We really didn’t do any exporting. That was the name of
the Berger-Grant Sales Co. Milton Berger was with me—he has since
died. We bought and sold caustic soda, soda ash, and my brother Jack
made a connection for me to sell irons—regular household irons and
lamps and merchandise, but he knew a factory in Chicago and they sent
me merchandise and Milton went on the road and through seven or eight
States in the South and I handled the business end of it—that was
caustic soda, soda ash, and we had a few accounts—the best account I
remember is the Rivera people—the Rivera family. They bought soda ash
and caustic soda from us.
Mr. HUBERT. Who were they?
Mrs. GRANT. Well, Jerry Rivera, his home is in Piedras Negras—they are
still there.
Mr. HUBERT. In what State—in what country?
Mrs. GRANT. Isn’t that right over the border in Mexico?
Mr. HUBERT. I don’t know—Piedras Negras—is that it?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes.
Mr. HUBERT. It’s in Mexico?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes; but he lived in San Antonio a great deal and in
Houston he had an office.
Mr. HUBERT. Is he alive?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, yes.
Mr. HUBERT. When was the last contact with him?
Mrs. GRANT. I think I saw him about 4 years ago—maybe 5.
Mr. HUBERT. And what connection, do you recall?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, he came through—he was at one of the motels and he
called my brother and I went out and had dinner with him.
Mr. HUBERT. He called Jack, you mean?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes—now, there are several brothers in the family, and I
even met his parents the previous year.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you recall any connection with that Rivera family or any
member of it in the last 4 or 5 years?
Mrs. GRANT. No; but I do know I met his mother and father. They came to
Chicago in one of the summers—like in the middle fifties when I was up
there. They had called our home in Chicago and his parents were staying
at the Palmer House.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you know of any connection whatsoever between your
brother, Jack Ruby, and any member of the Rivera family in the last 4
or 5 years?
Mrs. GRANT. I don’t think he had any business with them.
Mr. HUBERT. Or any connection otherwise?
Mrs. GRANT. He only knew them through me.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you know of any connection in any way—business, social,
or otherwise, in the last 5 years?
Mrs. GRANT. Nothing—nothing. I am here now exactly a little over 4
years and I have not left this city for 4 years, outside of going to
Hot Springs once for 3 days.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you know a man by the name of Paul Roland Jones?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, yes.
Mr. HUBERT. Would you tell us what you know about him?
Mrs. GRANT. I was going with a fellow by the name of Dr. Weldon Duncan.
This fellow was here in town, at least he was 2 weeks ago—now—he is a
chiropractor and he knew this Roland Jones and Roland told me—that’s
it. He told me he was in the export business, not in the export
business exactly, wait a minute—brokerage business—of eggs.
Mr. HUBERT. When did you meet Paul Roland Jones first?
Mrs. GRANT. When I knew him well was before you see, we didn’t have
enough money to open the club. Jack was still in the service and Jack
says he will sell his interest in the Earl Products—he was in business
with the other brothers, do you have it there?
Mr. HUBERT. Yes.
Mrs. GRANT. OK—well, Jack says when he gets out of this he will send me
some money and that could have been the fall or summer of 1947. That
seems to be it.
Mr. HUBERT. Tell me how you got to meet him?
Mrs. GRANT. Well, Dr. Duncan brought him over.
Mr. HUBERT. As a friend or in what way?
Mrs. GRANT. They came to the club—I mean—just came to that club.
Mr. HUBERT. Which club was that?
Mrs. GRANT. It was called the Singapore Supper Club at 1717 South Ervay.
Mr. HUBERT. You were running that club?
Mrs. GRANT. No; the club was not open—we didn’t have chairs or tables.
Mr. HUBERT. All right, they came to this place then that was called the
Singapore Club that was not yet open?
Mrs. GRANT. And I used the office of the club for my other merchandise
business. In fact, the club was full with lamps and all other kinds of
things.
Mr. HUBERT. And this doctor introduced you to Roland Paul Jones?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you ever have any further connections with Roland Paul
Jones?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes.
Mr. HUBERT. Tell us about that, please?
Mrs. GRANT. We were buying metals, at least we were trying to buy
metals and materials to sell to—in fact, gas companies—one is—I have
the files, believe me, and I think it’s at Jonesboro—is it in Arkansas
or Oklahoma? Well, we got the specifications and Paul Roland Jones
brought me a piece of metal, maybe 6 inches long—it’s a certain type of
pipe, rather, he brought me, and this man didn’t want it, so I sent it
on to Chicago to my brother.
Mr. HUBERT. Which brother?
Mrs. GRANT. It seems to me I sent it to my older brother, Hyman, and
he says he knew somebody that might be able to use the amount of
footage we had at this place, and we were going to make what you call
a finder’s fee or broker’s fee, but little did we know of Paul Roland
Jones’ connection, because I’m going to tell you. This man told me
several things—“I’m not fit to be in the night club business, I’m not
the caliber of a person.”
Mr. HUBERT. Who was that—Jones told you that?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes; and he seemed to be a very nice fellow and he used my
phone for a long distance call to Ardmore, Okla., and I know he paid me
$2 or $3 in change when he did it, and I didn’t know a thing about this.
Mr. HUBERT. About what, ma’am?
Mrs. GRANT. Well, wait a minute, I pick up the headlines and they
got Paul Roland Jones in jail somewhere—in Fort Worth. I no sooner
picked this up—this paper, the paper of this city, my brother is
calling me from Chicago that the FBI or some organization, one of your
organizations went to the Congress Hotel where Jack was staying and
they are questioning him about whether—about what he knew about Paul
Roland Jones. I don’t think Jack ever heard me mention the name.
Mr. HUBERT. How long had you known Paul Roland Jones when this occurred?
Mrs. GRANT. Not too many months—if it was 6 months or 8 months—it was
the longest.
Mr. HUBERT. Had you done any business with him?
Mrs Grant. No—never.
Mr. HUBERT. It was simply through meeting at the club?
Mrs. GRANT. Well, this doctor brought him in one afternoon. He knew him
because he went to him for treatment.
Mr. HUBERT. Well, that’s the first meeting, but thereafter, what was
the basis of the meeting?
Mrs. GRANT. Nothing. I mean, he came in, and I went to dinner with him
and the doctor once, and we went for a ride, but I’ll tell you, the
doctor and I didn’t know anything about his background.
Mr. HUBERT. He was ultimately charged, was he not, with the possession
of narcotics?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, yes; in fact, we read the story that night. We were
shocked. We knew he took trips, we knew he was married to a dancer in
New York, but this all came out—wait a minute, his wife came from New
York that summer.
Mr. HUBERT. Now, we’ll get into that later. Did Jack know Paul Roland
Jones at that time?
Mrs. GRANT. If he did—no; I doubt if he ever even heard of him.
Mr. HUBERT. Jack had not come down here yet?
Mrs. GRANT. If he was, he didn’t stay long.
Mr. HUBERT. But to your recollection he didn’t know Jones at all?
Mrs. GRANT. I don’t think he has ever seen him—well, wait a minute, he
may have seen the man or heard about him.
Mr. HUBERT. I understand that, but at the time of this episode that you
are telling us about?
Mrs. GRANT. I don’t think he ever saw him as far as I know, but I
want to tell you that Roland Jones went to Chicago during the period
of those 6 months and he did meet my brother Hyman. I don’t know what
conversation my brother had—my brother thought he was a nice guy—we
didn’t know anything about his background.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you know what happened to him?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, yes; he went to jail for something about narcotics from
Turkey or something like that.
Mr. HUBERT. Did he have any other charges later against him? Do you
know?
Mrs. GRANT. Do you want to know something—I went into a hotel here, and
let me think, either the Whitmore or the Southland since he has been
out, or when he got out, and this friend of mine said, “Guess who got
out of jail?” He said “Paul Roland Jones,” and I said, “That’s nice.”
Mr. HUBERT. How long ago was that?
Mrs. GRANT. This must be 7 years or 8 years—it seems like a long time
ago.
Mr. HUBERT. Have you seen him since?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes; he was here 2 years ago, I think. He came through
and he stopped by the Vegas Club one night. Oh, he says, he got in a
cab and he was coming through—he probably was here other times but he
didn’t want anybody to know—he said he was coming through changing
planes and he says he’s sure going to be picked up and he says to say
hello to Jack.
Mr. HUBERT. When was that?
Mrs. GRANT. Maybe a year and a half or 2 years ago.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you see him in November 1963?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, no.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you talk to him on the phone?
Mrs. GRANT. No.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you know he was in Dallas?
Mrs Grant. No.
Mr. HUBERT. Is there anything you know that would indicate that your
brother, Jack, knew he was in Dallas?
Mrs. GRANT. I don’t know.
Mr. HUBERT. In November 1963?
Mrs. GRANT. I don’t know. I’ll tell you how I figure this out, if I can
go see my contract—you see, my band leader was making a record, you
know, a record of music.
Mr. HUBERT. But so far as your recollection is concerned, it would be
over a year from today?
Mrs. GRANT. Easy—easy.
Mr. HUBERT. And by “contact with him,” of course, I mean—you
know—telephone, letters, messages?
Mrs. GRANT. No; he came in—he told me that he knows people at Mercury
Records and that if I send in the song he was going to make it, and
truthfully, I was glad when he came in, when he left, for more reasons
than one. We don’t discuss his background or anything.
Mr. HUBERT. Now, that’s over a year ago—certainly.
Mrs. GRANT. It has been so long—I say a year and a half—the airlines
would know quicker than I know because he said he just flew in and he
was just there for the evening and going back out, at least that’s what
he told me. I don’t discuss his background or anything like that—at
least, that’s what he told me.
Mr. HUBERT. Do you know a man by the name of Taylor Crossley?
Mrs. GRANT. What is the first name?
Mr. HUBERT. Taylor [spelling] T-a-y-l-o-r.
Mrs. GRANT. I know a lot of Taylors here but that is the last name.
Mr. HUBERT. No; Crossley. John Melton, and Morris Melton [spelling]
M-e-l-t-o-n?
Mrs. GRANT. No, sir.
Mr. HUBERT. Now, do you know a person by the name of Elsie Johnson?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, yes.
Mr. HUBERT. How do you know her?
Mrs. GRANT. Well, 8 or 9 years ago she was in the building business
with my brother, Sam. Before that—she was a commercial artist.
Mr. HUBERT. How did you meet her—when did you meet her?
Mrs. GRANT. When I first came here, and honest to God, this is one
person I can’t tell you even how I met her.
Mr. HUBERT. When you first came here—when do you mean?
Mrs. GRANT. I would say 20 years ago.
Mr. HUBERT. 1944—probably?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes; and let me tell you, she knew a girl, Bobby, whether I
met Bobby first—she’s a little girl that worked as a cashier at one of
the theatres and was it that she introduced me to Bobby—I knew her very
well and her sister and her mother and her brothers, and she became a
preacher. She ordained herself.
Mr. HUBERT. Is she a friend of yours?
Mrs. GRANT. Well, I don’t know if she is an enemy—I just don’t know—it
has been years since I have seen her. I spoke to her on the phone. It
seemed to me she called me November 24, that afternoon, or her sister
did.
Mr. HUBERT. Who is her sister?
Mrs. GRANT. Mary Sue Brown, and I think she worked at Green’s
Department Store.
Mr. HUBERT. And you knew Mary Sue Brown also?
Mrs. GRANT. Oh, yes; I knew the family. I used to go out there like
maybe once a year—Elsie had a car and she would drive me to her
mother’s home, which is Mrs. Barnes.
Mr. HUBERT. Do they still live in the Dallas area?
Mrs. GRANT. I’m sure they do—I probably have their phone number.
Mr. HUBERT. And your thought is that the last time you heard from them
was that there was a call from Elsie?
Mrs. GRANT. How sorry she was about my brother—it was on November the
24th.
Mr. HUBERT. That was the last contact you had with her?
Mrs. GRANT. No; I saw Mary, let’s see, I saw Mary Sue—I went to one
of the stores—I think it was H. L. Green’s and she was waiting on the
people, I mean, she was a saleswoman in the store.
Mr. HUBERT. And that’s since?
Mrs. GRANT. I haven’t seen Mary Sue for maybe a year and a half
previously or Elsie, maybe, I don’t think I have seen Elsie since I am
back this time—3 or 4 years—I can’t remember.
Mr. HUBERT. Was there any difficulty between you and Elsie concerning
some ring?
Mrs. GRANT. No; the other sister.
Mr. HUBERT. Mary Sue Brown?
Mrs. GRANT. Mary Sue Brown.
Mr. HUBERT. What about that?
Mrs. GRANT. Well, she used to come over and stay overnight and I have
this diamond ring yet, and it had a little stone in there my mother
had given me. There were many stones—from two marriage rings, and a
fellow gave me a little stone and my mother’s little—you know, a little
diamond—little diamonds. I went to take a bath and I had my money in
this purse and it’s a terrible thing—very terrible—it kills me to this
day even thinking about it—she was going to stay another day, and I
knew how much money I had on me the day before and I bought a little
dress and some things I bought. I took her to dinner and stuff like
that. She managed to wiggle out of not staying any more. She was very
nervous, and that night I get to the club and I put my ring out and you
could see the prongs were bent back—the stone was missing, the center
stone, which was about, a third of a carat. I called some friends of
mine——
Mr. HUBERT. How long ago was that?
Mrs. GRANT. I think it’s a year and a half—maybe 2 years.
Mr. HUBERT. All right, go on.
Mrs. GRANT. I just don’t remember. Anyway, I called—the vice squad came
in very often to the club and I was really very friendly with a fellow
by the name of Mike, and I don’t remember who he had with him, and they
took the ring to the laboratory—they proved that someone had—I can’t
explain it—they said——
Mr. HUBERT. They said that they had taken the stone out by force?
Mrs. GRANT. Yes; something like that. Anyway, the thing is, any other
thing I wouldn’t have cared about, but that stone, my mother gave me
and she swore she didn’t do anything about it, but I’ll tell you, there
was some money missing out of my purse and I never felt right about it,
and her nervousness in getting out of the apartment and all.
Mr. HUBERT. You made no charges?
Mrs. GRANT. No; I just wished the whole thing hadn’t happened, but I
told her I wanted the stone back. I didn’t care about the money—I just
was sick.
Mr. HUBERT. Had you during the war done any kind of trading in sugar
stamps?
Mrs. GRANT. No; no.
Mr. HUBERT. That’s not true?
Mrs. GRANT. No; I never had any extra stamps outside of what my family
had.
Mr. HUBERT. Did you ever boast to anyone or say to anyone in any way
that you had connections with the Capone gang?