Amanda Guerra, NBC 5 News
Dr. Adolph H. "Buddy" Giesecke Jr. was 79 when he died in his Irving home.
An anesthesiologist who attached a heart monitor to President John F. Kennedy in a Dallas hospital's emergency room and interviewed wounded Texas Gov. John Connally for surgery has died.
Dr. Adolph H. "Buddy" Giesecke Jr. was 79. The doctor's son, Martin Giesecke, said his father died Dec. 24 at his home in the Dallas suburb of Irving.
The elder Giesecke was working at Parkland Hospital on Nov. 22, 1963, when Kennedy was assassinated and Connally was struck while riding in the same vehicle.
Martin Giesecke said his father was eating lunch in the cafeteria when an urgent message came over the loud speaker requesting the chair of a department to the Emergency Room.
“That was a very uncommon thing. No one called the chair of any department to the ER. They picked up the phone and called the operator and found out the president had been shot and immediately went to the ER,” Giesecke said.
On his way, Giesecke said his father grabbed an EKG machine.
“He actually then placed the electrocardiogram machine on the President. At that time and in those days we didn’t have the little round adhesive pads we have now, the electrocardiogram was actually done by placing steel needles into the skin. And most patients, even if they were anesthetized would flinch when that happened. But the President did not flinch. And so my Dad knew basically he was not going to survive.”
Shortly after, Giesecke said his father was rushed to another room.
“He was ushered out shortly after placing the EKG machine because at that time Gov. John Connally was brought in and needed to go rather quickly to the operating room. And since the chairman of the department, Dr. Jenkins, was there taking care of the president then he sent my father to take care of the Governor,” he said.
Since the assassination, Giesecke said his father would often receive letters from across the world.
“There were quite a few people up to, even as recently as this past month, who would send him letters and ask for his autograph or ask for an explanation of what really happened. People who believed in conspiracies and would try to get him to admit there was one,” Giesecke said.
“He was a very affable person. He always would write them back and tell them his side of the story. Obviously keeping it very brief, but would share that information with them.”
It’s a story Martin Giesecke knows very well. And it’s one, now that his father is gone, he’ll continue to share.