LYLE and Deborah haven't been to New York before. The convention of the East Coast Assassination Investigation Workshops has finally brought them to the city, at Lyle's insistence. Deborah has found, even coming in from the airport, that New York is as she has heard--the rudeness and all. She looks out of the hotel van and sees a grungy man in another car staring at her, unabashed. She looks away.
"How safe do you think we'll be?" Deborah says.
"Like I said before, we'll be fine," Lyle says. "As long as we stay in the hotel or close by, we'll be fine. We'll be among friends."
Lyle and Deborah are both forty-eight. They live in Denver now, where Lyle services photocopiers and Deborah is in insurance. They have no children, and for this reason they have the luxury of spending a week here. Lyle wanted to go "all out" for this, and Deborah doesn't mind. At the regional conventions they've been to, in Dallas three times, and also in Portland and Kansas City, she has always found plenty to do while Lyle attends his seminars. Last year, in Kansas City, while he sat through "The Warren Commission: Footnotes and Falsehoods," she shopped and went sightseeing and had long, contemplative lunches by herself. When they returned home, Lyle holed up in his basement file room every night after dinner, sure he was on to something. Lyle feels he has made a breakthrough, and this is why they have come to the Big One, in New York. Their dogs, matching lhasa apsos named Zapruder and Mannlicher, are being boarded at the veterinarian's.