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BIG THICKET MUSEUM Saratoga, Texas Open Saturday through Thursday, morning and afternoon. Support Your Big Thicket Association 1 IN NM la NM MN WI IN11111111111M MI MI 7 %FUTURA PRESS AUSTIN TEXAS Ask for the Union Label on your 1 printing. It doesn’t cost you more, I but it shows that you care more! 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 FUTURA PRESS Phone 512/442-7836 1714 SOUTH CONGRESS P.O. BOX 3485 AUSTIN, TEXAS 8 The Texas Observer z ‘ Since 1866 The Place in Austin GOOD FOOD GOOD BEER 1607 San Jacinto 477-4171 MARTIN ELFA NT Sun Life of Canada 1001 Century Building Houston, Texas CA 4-0686 formal kin, the kin of heart: the Johnson people. “AGENDA FOR THURSDAY, JANUARY 25, 1973. . . . “Ceremony opens. Band plays Ruffles and Flourishes and Star Spangled Banner. As Star Spangled Banner is concluded, party moves to grave site.” As the funeral procession, led by representatives of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, begins to enter the graveyard, the Fifth Army Band plays the hymn, “The Church’s One Foundation.” They are bearing the flag-draped coffin now to the grave. It is upon the rollers. The military pallbearers unfix the flag and hold it taut a few inches above the coffin in the air. “Remarks of John B. Connally “Services for Lyndon B. Johnson “January 25, 1973 “FOR RELEASE ON DELIVERY “We lay to rest here a man whose whole life embodied the spirit and hope of America. “How can a few words eulogize a man such as he?. . .” Connally is reading, at the podium, facing the head of the burnished grey coffin under the flag on the rollers, and the cameras run. “. . I feel today it is these plain people he loved the silent people who mourn him the most. “He gave them all he had for forty years.” He tells of Johnson’s origins, his child’s dreams, his dedication and effort. “Thus he rose from these limited beginnings to the zenith of power, and as he so often said with a mixture of awe and pride, ‘I guess I’ve come a long way for a boy from Johnson City, Texas.’ “But with all his strengths, Lyndon Johnson cannot be viewed as a man above men, a mythical hero conquering all before him. “In a sense, his life was one of opposites. . . . “Some criticized him for being unlettered and unsophisticated when in truth he was incredibly wise and incredibly sophisticated in ways his critics never understood, perhaps because he always dealt not with things as they should have been, but as they were. . . .” Done, Connally returns to his chair and flips his text, in a black folder, down beside his chair, the folder takes a bounce on the grass, and he sits on down. The Reverend Billy Graham wears a long flowing black robe with a bright red band at the neck of it. “FOR RELEASE ON DELIVERY “Funeral of President Lyndon B. Johnson “Order of Graveside Service “Officiated by the Rev. Dr. Billy Graham “LBJ Ranch, Stonewall, Texas “Thursday, January 25, 1973 “LET US WORSHIP GOD. . . . “THE MEDITATION. . . . “Few events touch the heart of every American as profoundly as the death of a President. . . . “Here amidst these familiar hills and under these expansive skies his earthly life has come full circle. . . . “During his years of public service, Lyndon Johnson was on center stage in our generation. To him the Great Society was not a wild dream but a realistic hope. The thing nearest to his heart was to harness the wealth and knowledge of a mighty nation to assist the plight of the poor.” Varying from his text, speaking more freely than Connally, Graham too, however, is starting and stopping, surging and receding in the force of his eulogy, as if his mind is working between his words and somewhere else, absent-minded, performances for cameras and masses you can’t tell. “He could have had more excuses than most for not attending church on Sunday. But he will go down in history as the most church-going President in history. He sometimes went to church two and three times in a Sunday. . . . “PRAYER FOR THE FAMILY. . .” The 21 concussions begin, each a slight shudder against the heart, cannon after cannon fired by the 4th Battalion, 133rd Infantry, 36th Infantry Brigade, clouds of white smoke billowing forth out of the cannonmouths across the river toward the church of the six posters on the walls. Graham’s face framed above the flag over the coffin between the servicemen, the cameras click faster like crickets in the wings. The cannonade continues, and there is a flashbulb, a flash of white flame, across the graveyard. The Rev. Dr. Graham continues: “BENEDICTION “`Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, ” ‘And hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father; to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.’ A seven-man musket team, standing beyond the trees, fire, in startling quick and total unison, three sharperack rifle volleys, as if over the grave and our heads. Master Sgt. Patrick B. Mastroleo, who played Taps for President Truman, plays Taps now, with one wavered note, for President Johnson. Connally rises beside Anita Bryant and bends down to the ground in his dark topcoat and picks up a low wooden box and puts it down behind the podium for her, and she steps up onto it and sings, very slowly and as in pain, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”.. . Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored, He has loosed the fateful lighning of His terrible swift sword, His truth is marching on. . . . She sings so slow and strongly as they