The Richard Jackson Saga: Book 2 School Days
Author: Ed Nelson
Date: 2019-08-08T18:00:00+00:00
Description: The Richard Jackson SagaBook 2: School DaysComing of age stories don’t have to be all teenage angst, they can be fun-filled adventures. With humor, we follow a young man’s coming of age in the late 1950s. Starting in the summer before his freshman year it follows him through high school and beyond. He finds wealth as an inventor and fame in Hollywood as he searches for a girlfriend. Wealth and fame prove far easier than girls.The second book, ‘School Days’ shows Rick in the first semester of the ninth grade. Using the lessons learned on the road Rick makes a serious start on being an excellent
Publisher: Earl E. Nelson dba Eastern Shore Publishing

The Richard Jackson Saga

Book 2: School Days

By Ed Nelson

Other books by Ed Nelson

The Richard Jackson Saga

Book 1 The Beginning

Bookv2 Schooldays

Book 3 Hollywood

Book 4 In the Movies

Book 5 Star to Deckhand

Book 6 Surfing Dude

Book 7 Third Time is a Charm

Book 8: Oxford University

Book 9: Cold War

Book 10: Taking Care of Business

Stand Alone Stories

Ever and Always

Dedications

This is dedicated to my wife Carol for her support and help as first reader and editor.

Bellefontaine High School Class of 1962 just because.

Copyright © 2019

E. E. Nelson

All rights reserved

Eastern Shore Publishing

2331 Del Webb Blvd. West

Sun City Center, FL 33573

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ISBN 978-7331190-2-3

Quotation

“That’s the way it happened, give or take a lie or two.”

James Garner as Wyatt Earp describing the gunfight at the OK Corral in the movie Sunset.

Table of Contents

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 1

Monday the weather was still good. I was able to get in another run, there wouldn’t be many more. I took one of my favorite routes, up Campbell Hill, then along a farm road next to the airbase. Then turn onto a road through a small woodlot to complete the loop and home. It was a little longer than my normal five miles, but I liked running out in the country.

During breakfast, I had a cup of coffee even though I was awake. It wasn’t as nasty tasting, I was getting used to it. I talked Dad into giving me a ride to school. I had made an error in bringing the trophy home with me, rather than letting Coach take it with him. After giving me a hard time, Dad relented.

On the way to school, I wondered what they were going to do with the latest trophy. The current cases looked full to me, and I could tell the trophy was too tall to fit in any of the cases. The question was quickly answered.

Dad dropped me off at the main entrance as usual. When I walked in the door the first thing that caught my eye was an additional trophy case. It was built to hold taller trophies.

A janitor was just finishing cleaning the glass. I asked Mr. Brown where they got a new case on such short notice. He told me that they had it all along, just not set out. When they bought the other cases this came with them. They didn’t have enough trophies to fill it, so they left it in storage to avoid damage, you know those dang high school kids. Mr. Brown was one of those that thought his job would be great if it wasn’t for all those kids.

He had the key, so he opened it and placed the trophy front and center. All the time other students were going by saying, “Go Bellefontaine.”

I had learned to tune it out.

Mr. Brown then told me, “Mr. Gordon needs to see you in the office right away.”

“Thanks, I better head there,” I replied, as I wondered what it was about.

Mr. Gordon saw me immediately.

“Congratulations on the win, Rick. You have caused more commotion at this school than we have had in years. I always want the city and county councils to pay attention to us, and maybe provide some of the funds we need for maintenance. Now they all want to be here and speak at the presentation.”

“What presentation?”

“Your trophy of course,” he spoke as though I were a little slow.

“My trophy was presented yesterday at the end of the tournament, Jack Nicklaus did the presentation.”

“Not that one, the Logan county athlete of the year”

“I didn’t know they had one.”

“This is the first, somebody thought of it last night,” Mr. Gordon told me.

“Do I have to accept it?” I inquired.

“No, but you wouldn’t make any friends, I heard your Dad was going into business for himself, just think what that would do for his community relations.”

“When is the presentation?”

“It’s this Friday afternoon as part of the regular pep rally. I’m just thankful they aren’t insisting on earlier, anymore classes missed and we will be cutting into the snow day reserves.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“One more thing Rick, could we put your bull riding trophy in the new case? I haven’t seen it but I gather it is impressive.”

“Mum will be glad to give it to the school. I have been using it as a clothes rack in my bedroom.”

“What about you Rick, do you mind giving it up?” he asked.

“Thank you for asking, no I don’t mind.”

“Bring it tomorrow if you can.”

“I will, you know I just wanted to play golf, not be the school hero.”

“A burden you will have to bear, we need our heroes, and I would rather have a clean-cut athlete rather than one of those rock and roll singers.”

I took that as a sign he didn’t want my gold record for “Rock and Roll Cowboy,’ for the trophy case. But it did give me an idea. They would get their hero warts and all. Mr. Gordon then gave me a note and sent me to my homeroom.

I ended up on time, so didn’t need the note. I did notice there wasn’t a date and it only said, Rick Jackson, is excused for this lateness. I saved the note in my three-ring binder. Waste not, want not.

As part of the morning ritual, my homeroom teacher publicly congratulated me. This occurred in every class all day, even study hall. Though I wasn’t the highlight of study hall, that dubious honor was reserved for Steve Simmons.

Steve was a little guy, but tough as nails. He came from a less than desirable background but made it to school in worn-out clothes every day. You could tell he was trying.

Well, poor Steve fell asleep in study hall. I don’t mean nodded off, I mean a deep sleep with his head on the desk. He may have got away with it, but he started snoring. Mr. Hurley couldn’t ignore that. What he did was wave his arms to get our attention; then held up his finger to his lips in the sign of keep quiet.

He then pointed at Steve. It was only a minute until the bell, so we all packed up our papers and books and just sat there. The bell rang and Mr. Hurley using hand signs; had us file quietly out of the room for our next class.

Some of us had to know what was going to happen next so we stayed behind, watching through the glass window in the door. Mr. Hurley picked up a book and slammed it down on the desk behind Steve.

Steve woke up, obviously startled and jumped up. His desk was in the row on the far side of the room from the door. Instead of going around the rows of desks, the old style with the seat attached to the front of the desk behind it, he stood on a desktop and ran across the room from desktop to desktop.

You should have seen the look on Mr. Hurley’s face. I don’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. Steve burst out of that room, pushing his way passed us. Mr. Hurley broke down laughing.

Now that was a sight to see. He was a very serious looking person and seldom cracked a smile and I had never seen him laugh before. That was kind of weird.

Mr. Hurley came out of the door and said in passing.

“If anyone sees Steve tell him he just paid off all his detention debt for the year.”

Now that was a reward! Detention was for one hour after school every day. As we were leaving for the day you would see the kids gathering in the study hall to serve their time. Steve was one of those guys always there.

Chapter 2

At lunchtime, I ran into Tom Humphreys and his crowd.

“Guess you think you are a big guy at school now, hotshot.”

I replied, “Hi Rodney, I’m glad to see you are your usual wonderful self, the Tom we all admire.”

You could tell that he didn’t know how to take that.

“I just don’t want you to get a swelled head, it’s not like you play a real sport.”

“Thank you, Rodney, I appreciate the advice and I will take it in the spirit it was given.”

Again he looked a little disconcerted.  I continued, “See you later; I’ve got to get in line for my lunch.”

I wasn’t going to get in a fight if I could avoid it, but I was getting tired of his crap.

I joined Tom at our regular table. Today the entire golf team was there to congratulate me. It was actually nice to get compliments from guys who could appreciate what I had done.

John Scott surprised me by saying, “I would flunk out this year if I could play on the team next year, but I will be nineteen before the season is over, so I will go ahead and graduate.”

Boy, talk about pressure for next year. We then tried to figure out who would replace John. There were a couple of eighth-graders who played out at the club who did pretty well. This year the school had an unusual shortage of golfers, it was probably the only reason I was given a chance.

Rita Harrison was sitting at a table with her friends and wasn’t looking my way so maybe that was over, I sure hope so. I’m like any guy, I like the attention of an attractive girl, but I think she was attracted to the money and not me.

In the next study hall, I took the time to write a letter to Judy telling her of the events since Sunday night. I thought the Steve Simmons thing was really funny but maybe you had to be there to appreciate it.

I whined a little about the upcoming pep rally. I truly didn’t care for being the center of attention; little good seemed to come of it. New people attracted by my fame weren’t attracted because they liked me; it was what I could do for them. I wondered how John Wayne and Elvis handled this. I would ask Mr. Wayne the next time I saw him.

After school, I went straight home. Dad grabbed me right away. We have to get you down to Henry’s for a new suit.

“Why,” I asked.

“The pep rally they are holding Friday is a lot bigger than the normal rally. It is being held at the Holland Theater for some reason. I was called by both the Mayor and President of the County Council. They want you to look good for the presentations.”

“Presentations,” I inquired, “Mr. Gordon told me of one more trophy as Athlete of the Year for Logan County.”

“I think that may have changed a little, I’m not sure, anyway let’s get down to Wolfeins to have you fitted.”

Henry did his normal good job of fitting me. The only problem was Dad and I arguing about what fabric I should pick for the suit. Both were off the rack. One was dark blue with thin red pinstripes it even had a vest with it, the other dark blue with wide white stripes.

The wide white stripes made me think of a Chicago gangster. I didn’t want to look like Al Capone. My point, that I was the one who had to wear the suit won the day. As I told Dad if he liked the suit he should buy it for himself.

He got a faraway look; then shook his head, “Peg would never go for it.”

And he wanted me to wear it!

A new tie, white shirt which needed cuff links, a set of cuff links, new black socks, a black belt and I was good to go. Henry was a good salesman. I barely was able to get off without a set of braces, and a gold watch with a chain to hang across the front of my vest.

We just got home and the telephone rang. Mum picked it up and said, “Jackson residence.”

She listened a moment and handed the handset to me, “It’s the White House for you.”

I have a funny Mum.

I said, “Hello who is this?”

The response was, “Hold for the President”

Wow, they had really gone all out on this joke.

It wasn’t a joke, the next voice I heard, I knew from television.

“Rick this is Dwight Eisenhower, I wanted to call and congratulate you on your winning the Ohio State Golf Championship for Boys. I’ve had your name put on my press clipping list if you make the news I am notified”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” I managed to get out.

“I have a trip to Columbus scheduled in April. It is with local business leaders, there will be a round of golf involved; you’re invited to play with me. I could use a strong partner.”

“It will be my pleasure, Mr. President.”

“My office will be in contact to confirm the details, say hello to your parents, and tell your Dad I had to break that strike to save the economy.”

He hung up, I was still in shock. How did he know how Dad felt about him?

I related the conversation to my parents who were waiting by the phone.

Dad told me, “That explains a few things, I didn’t want to get Peg upset but several people at work told me the FBI had been asking questions, of course, everyone wanted to know what I had done. It was right after you got a birthday greeting from Ike so I figured that was what it was about.”

“He does have to be careful who he is associated with. I told people I was being considered for a job on the railroad commission, it was worth a laugh.”

Mum spoke up, “The neighbors told me they had been approached but I didn’t share because I didn’t want to upset Jack. I also sorted out that it must be Ike protecting himself.”

We had a good laugh, it reminded me of a story I had read. It was about a very poor young couple buying each other Christmas presents.

I told Dad about Ike’s remarks on saving the economy. He gave a “Harrumph.”

That was mild for him on that subject. Having the President personally explain why he did something had an effect on Dad. I bet it wouldn’t last.

After dinner, I walked over to the Wingers house and asked to speak with Mrs. Hernandez. She was a striking lady with the darkest black hair I had ever seen. I just thought my hair was black! Mum called my hair, black Irish. Her hair was so black it appeared to have purple highlights. Mum's hair was that way under some light. This woman's hair was that dark under any light.

She had very large breasts and wore a bra that we called, ‘Nose Cones.’ They looked like the nose cone on a guided missile. She was way too old for me, but I could still appreciate the view.

I explained who I was and that I would like to see about Spanish lessons. We talked until she established I was serious. We agreed on five lessons a week, one hour per day. I would pay her a flat seven dollars and fifty cents a week in advance, and there would be no refund if I missed class.

During our conversation, she realized I was Mary’s big brother. She told me she had wanted to meet Mary’s hero. I was the bestest big brother ever.

She told me, “If you pick up Spanish as quick as Mary, you will be a conversationalist in weeks.”

I told her that I would be gone for seven weeks in the spring, but that if she would provide study materials I would keep paying her. She thought this fair and would put together a packet for me. In the meantime, my lessons would start next Monday. I paid her in cash so we were all set to go.

I went home and joined the family in watching Father Knows Best, The Danny Thomas Show followed by the Ann Southern Show.

Later I read a story about a guy who makes a bet that he can go around the world quickly. It was humorous as all get out, in an understated way. Each of the adventures was believable within itself self but putting them all together was way over the top. Since it is a classic people must like this sort of stuff, I’m still not sure.

Chapter 3

The next morning I lugged the bull riding trophy to school. Dad said he was too busy to drop me off. He just wanted me to carry that darned thing around. If he was polite he would have waited till I was far enough away that I couldn’t hear his laughter.

Of course, I was stopped at the school doorway by all the kids wanting to see it. I thought about setting it down and leaving it. It was like that Phil Harris song, The Thing if I put it down it would come right back to me.

Anyway, I got lucky, Mr. Brown the janitor was right there, taking it and locking it away next to my golf trophy. I slunk into my homeroom, just wanting to be another kid in the crowd. I thought it was working until Mr. Gordon made the morning announcements including.

“On Friday after the lunch period, all classes will walk as a group downtown to the Holland Theater where there will be a pep rally and a tribute to our most famous student, Ricky Jackson.”

Of course, everyone in the room turned and looked at me.

Sally Bronson sitting next to me commented, “Rick, I never knew anyone could blush that dark of a red, it really goes well with your blue eyes.”

It would have helped if she hadn’t gone off in peals of laughter. It must be my day to be laughed at.

Classes went as classes always do; I kept working in all of them, to keep ahead, but as much to avoid how uncomfortable I felt with being the center of attention.

At lunch something else hit home, previously the table I sat at was occupied by the golf team and Tom. Since the season ended the team had moved on, to what I thought must be their regular friends.

Other kids had taken their place; they were what I thought of as the ‘elites’. Now we lived in a small town, so there wasn’t anyone who should be a snob. But as Orwell wrote, some pigs are more equal than others.

The highest-ranked, ‘pig’ there was Anne Howison. Her Dad was a big-time contractor and business owner. I think he owned a bunch of IGA stores. He started out small in Bellefontaine and grew quickly. I know he was in business with several other big wigs from Columbus.

Her parents were divorced. Anne would start school in Bellefontaine every year, but at Thanksgiving, she would transfer to live with her mother in Clearwater, Florida. She would then be back after Easter to finish out the school year with us.

I had a crush on her since the second grade as she was a textbook blue-eyed blonde. She never knew I existed. Over the years she had gone in my eyes from an angel of perfection to someone I knew.

Now Anne was motioning for me to sit beside her.

“Hi Ricky, I saved you a chair,” she bubbled.

I sat down because I needed a seat and was hungry. I knew this was about social status, her status reflecting in my glory. When I thought about it, it was funny, I didn’t want the attention; she did. Why couldn’t I write a transfer of fame and glory to her, and get on with my life?

She proceeded to tell me she was about to make their annual trip to Florida, she couldn’t wait to get back to Clearwater High and the Tornadoes.

Bellefontaine was okay, but the larger school had so many more interesting people. Why except for us, this town was pretty boring. As I listened I realized that she wasn’t the person I thought she was.

I escaped as quickly as I could. Tom was walking out the door at the same time so we walked toward the other end of the school together. Our classes were as far away from the cafeteria as you could get. Tom started with, “I see Queen Anne has set her sights on you.”

“Looks like it, should I run for the hills.”

“Nah she wouldn’t seriously date you, you are just the biggest fish in the pond right now, so she has to be seen with you. Rumor will take care of the rest. Before the day is over you will be facing a possible shotgun wedding.”

“I think I would let them shoot me.”

“My feelings exactly, I don’t know what people see in her, she is the most popular girl in school, and she has done nothing to earn it.”

“Tom that is how I feel about myself.”

“Nonsense, you have accomplished things, your grades are out of sight; golf and rodeo speak for themselves. You have accomplished things. Name me one thing she has achieved for herself or the school.”

I couldn’t.

Tom continued, “You have done some neat stuff, but you are still you. Right now I admire the way you aren’t letting it go to your head.”

“Thanks, Tom, I can’t tell you how hard it is, not getting a swelled head, but listening to other people carry on.”

“Well don’t do anything else for the rest of the school year, and maybe it will settle down.”

“Uh, Tom,” I then proceeded to tell him about the upcoming movie with John Wayne. He was the first I had told, but since the school office would be getting a call from the studio's tutor I knew the news would be out.

Tom heard me out with only a few gasps and holy craps. He then said something that really helped.

“You are destined for fame, live with it.”

He was right I had no choice, but to live with it or go nuts. I had been agonizing since school started. Maybe it was time to accept that I was famous locally, and still act like I always had.

The rest of the day went smoothly; occasionally I would repeat to myself my new mantra.

“Live with it.”

When I got home Dad asked, “How did your day go, Rick?”

“Fine how was yours?”

“It was okay, I was hoping to get called for work today but the railroad is just getting slower all the time. They are talking about suspending passenger service.”

“That just shows you are on the right track.”

“How was school, kids pay a lot of attention to you?

“Live with it,” I thought. “Yeah, the usual group of hangers-on sucked up; my friends treated me as usual.”

“Good; and I’m sorry about making you carry your trophy this morning. Your Mum sure gave me a hard time about it.”

“Yay, Mum. You are the nastiest meanest Dad I have… wait you are the only Dad I have.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

“On a more serious note, Dad could I call Mr. King? I need to find out if he’s had any luck getting an electrical and mechanical engineer to work with me on my hairdryer.”

“Go ahead, and why don’t you spend a few minutes talking to that girl of his while you are at it.”

“Gee Dad you are the best, nicest Dad I have, oh wait…”

After dinner, I called the King residence. Mrs. King answered and told me Mr. King was there, it was a shame that Judy was at the library, she would be upset because she missed the call.

Mr. King came to the phone. I explained the reason for the call.

“You are in luck Rick. I talked to two young engineers, one electrical and the other mechanical. They both are young newlyweds and would love some extra cash.”

“That’s great; do you think they could come here on Saturday?”

“I’m certain they will.”

“Tell them I will pay their expenses plus fifty dollars each for the day. See if they can ride together. Also, they will have to sign an NDA up front.”

“I will talk to them tomorrow, I told both of them about the NDA requirement. They wanted to know what you were designing, an atomic bomb?”

I laughed, “If it sells as I think, it is better than an a-bomb.”

“I think you are correct.”

“Before we hang up, one more thing, can you recommend a patent attorney.”

“We have them on staff, but that wouldn’t work for you. I will ask one of them if they can recommend one.”

“Thanks, Mr. King, tell Judy I’m sorry I missed her.”

“Don’t tell her I told you, but I know my daughter. Your phone will ring within the hour. She’s due home in half an hour, it will take her twenty minutes of whining for her mother and me to give in, then ten minutes making sure she looks good.”

Now that was scary in several ways, her father knowing her so well to make the prediction and her cleaning up for a phone call. I wondered if my parents knew me that well. That was really scary!

Mr. King knew his daughter, almost to the minute our phone rang. It was from Judy. We talked for about five minutes, it was long-distance and it could get expensive. We updated each other on our days. We had been writing to each other two to three times a week.

We shared things that we would never share with local friends. The sharing was about our insecurities on how others viewed us and that no one understood us. It was amazing that we both had the same concerns.

Because of this, our conversation was about current events without having to give each other background. When I told her about Tom’s comment of, “live with it,” she agreed that was the best way for me to handle things.

She lowered her voice and you could tell she didn’t want her parents to hear.

“Has wise old Tom any advice about boys staring at my boobs?”

“Yeah, Live with it.”

That broke her up in laughter and we said good night and we assured each other we would write again this week. Of course, I thought about her boobs for the rest of the evening. Was that what she wanted?

I finished my trip around the world that night. Now satellites were doing it in eighty minutes!

Chapter 4

Wednesday was an overcast day, threatening rain but it never let loose. That was how school seemed, something might happen but it didn’t.

Lunch was more of the same old, the suck-ups sat at my table, Tom waved across the room and I could see his lips form.

“Live with it.”

I did, I was polite but made no commitments. Anne was the most insistent that I join her at Don’s on Saturday. I finally told her I had some people coming from Columbus on Saturday. Boy that opened up the questions! I just laughed them off and said it was a private family matter.

I left a frustrated looking Anne Howison at the table and headed back to my next classroom. It was study hall so I could do research on a paper I was working on. I found the opening up of California for American settlers by the Rowland-Workman party.

Those two guys seemed to go from one mess to the other. John Rowland’s family lived in Morgan County, Ohio, that is where my Dad's family came from. I wondered if there was any connection.

I asked Dad about it at dinner that night. He had no idea, he really didn’t know a lot about his side of the family. His parents were divorced in the 1930s and he lived with his mother. He hardly knew his grandfather Earl; he did know that his grandparents didn’t get along and that Earl’s second wife wanted nothing to do with Dad and his brothers.

That ended that thought.

I messed around with my hairdryer but really couldn’t make any progress till professionals had looked at it.

To be different that night I read an Australian poem about people chasing a thoroughbred horse that had broken out of its paddock and ran off with wild horses. The hero risks life and limb to capture the horse, and in doing so restores his good name and wins the girl.

Thursday was clearer but still not the brightest of days. My morning run was past the airbase again. I liked that it was out in the country. One day I had even disturbed a couple of deer. They were still as scarce as they had been for the last twenty years.

Dad told me that during the great depression they were hunted almost to extinction in the Eastern and Midwestern states. So hunting had been severely limited by law. Deer had no natural enemies around, so I wondered if they would end up overpopulating the area.

School was pop quiz day, every class had one; I think it was because of the event tomorrow the teachers knew that no real work would be accomplished.

At lunch, Anne asked if it were true that I was going to be in another movie with John Wayne. I confirmed it, no sense in denying it now. She squealed and hugged me. I wondered if this was how a cow felt when it was branded. I returned the hug slightly. Funny I had daydreamed about her for years, now I could care less. Live with it.

Tom even brought that up as we met after lunch; “I see Anne has branded you as hers.”

Great minds or what?

“She tried, since there are no girls at this school that I’m interested in, it really doesn’t matter.”

Tom picked up on this school.

“So what school does the girl go to that you’re interested in?”

“Clintonville over by Columbus,” I replied.

“I know that school, its right across from the Park of Roses. I have an aunt that lives near there. Where did you meet her?”

“At the sectional golf tournament, her dad is one of the golf associate big wigs. I saw her again in Columbus, and we write to each other. I talked to her on the telephone last night.”

“That sounds serious.”

“As serious as fifty miles will let it be.”

“That is a bummer, well if she is still around next year you will have your driver’s license.”

“Time will tell,” as my Mum always said.

As long as my one friend, that was how I thought of Tom, understood the score with Anne, let the rest of the school think what they want. I even wrote that in my letter to Judy. That may have been a mistake.

I went down to Wolfeins after school and picked up my suit. The alterations Henry had made were exactly right.

That evening I had a brief call from Mr. King, he confirmed that Don Thompson an Electrical Engineer along with Paul Samson would show up at my house at 10:00 a.m. on Saturday. They were willing to sign the NDA and would like their pay in cash if possible.

I would pay in cash. There would be fifty dollars each and nine dollars for the person that drove. This was based on the 1958 mileage rate of nine cents per mile.

He also told me he had asked their patent attorney if he could recommend anyone. He came up with Marvin Christensen a recent graduate practicing in Columbus. Mr. King provided me a phone number for him. I inquired as to his wife and daughter's health.

He laughed and said, “Judy is fine. I will tell her you asked.”

“Thanks, Mr. King,” as he hung up.

I now had a new problem. I needed an NDA. I asked Dad if he had the time tomorrow to see our lawyer for help.

“Lucky for you I do, I will ask him to use the one from Warner Brothers as a model if he doesn’t have one. That way we may be able to avoid a day of billing in research.”

Later that night I tried to read, but just couldn’t get into it.

After my morning exercises and run, I got cleaned up and put on regular school clothes. Dad would pick me up at lunchtime; Mum would have a sandwich ready while I changed clothes. The whole family would be going to the event.

For once the whole family was at breakfast. I asked, “What’s the special occasion?”

Mary laughed and said, “You are silly.”

I looked at my parents, they exchanged looks and Dad got the duty.

“Rick there has been a project in the works for a while. It started right after your summer vacation. The local authorities have decided that you are the person to put Bellefontaine on the map. No famous person other than the Indian Chief Blue Jacket has come from here, and actually, Wapakoneta has a better claim than we do.”

“What are they planning?” I asked with some trepidation.

“There is this movie,” Dad started but petered out.

“Yes,” I prompted.

Mum broke in, “They contacted the studios, Warner Brother and Disney, who have loaned them some of the footage from the movies you were in, then the Rodeo Association and the Ohio State Golf group, loaned their footage.”

“Then for some reason, Warner Brothers got involved again and made it a professional production. They were really scrambling to get your golf championship play and trophy presentation into the film. They have made a fifteen-minute movie of your career so far.”

“Live with it; Live with it, Live with it,” I thought.

“Oh is that all, I thought they were going to make a big deal of things.” I can’t believe I said that with a straight face. “Live with it, Live with it,” I kept chanting to myself.

My parents both had a relieved look.

Dad said, “We were afraid you would go berserk on us and refuse to attend.”

“I’ll live with it,” as my inner self was becoming a gibbering idiot.

Denny asked, “Why don’t you want to be famous and everyone be your friend.”

“That’s the problem, Denny, how can you tell who your true friends are?”

“Only be friends with people you already know.”

“What if I meet new people, what if I meet a girl, does she like me, my fame or money that I may have? That’s why I appear upset at times, being famous is not as much fun as you think. I’m only famous in Bellefontaine, what do you think people like John Wayne or Elvis, or even the new golfer Jack Nicklaus or the chess player Bobby Fischer feel when they meet new people.”

“That would be hard. I guess you would just have to live with it.”

“I think I said that,” I grumbled.

Of course, school was all in an uproar when I got there. It was like a free day for everyone. I noticed even the teachers were spending more time talking to each other, rather than watching the students.

Anne Howison and three of her followers came up to me. Before she could say anything, I told her.

“They will be showing me receiving the golf trophy in the movie today; the girl hugging me is Judy King my girlfriend.”

I don’t know what she was going to say, but that took the wind out of her sails.

She replied, “Oh good, I’ve wanted to see her, I heard she isn’t very pretty.”

I smiled and said, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

I just hoped they had a good full picture of Judy. She was as pretty as any girl in Bellefontaine, but then I realized that I was the beholder!

They moved on, with whatever mission Anne had unaccomplished to my relief. It did make me think, was Judy, my girlfriend, yes she is a girl and a friend, but girlfriend?  If she was my girlfriend, it was going to be a long-distance relationship for some time to come.

I gave up trying to accomplish anything before lunch. I started to get tired of telling kids and teachers that I hadn’t any idea of what would be going on later today.

Chapter 5

Finally, it was lunchtime and Dad picked me up. I inhaled my baloney sandwich, put on my suit, tied my tie and we were ready to go. Mary was in her cheerleader uniform. Mum and Dad were both dressed to the nines. I didn’t even know Dad owned a suit. When asked he told me it was new this week.

We drove downtown to the Holland Theater. Two students were waiting for us, one to guide my family to their seats, another to take me backstage. Waiting there was Mr. Gordon our principal, Mayor North, the President of the County Council, Mr. Winters the Superintendent of Schools, and Mr. Jack Evans from the publicity department of Warner Brothers.

Mr. Gordon was the only one that I knew; he introduced me to the others. Mr. Evans introduced himself. He gave a very quick explanation of what was going on with them.

“Rick, when the city and county contacted us for the footage from, “It Never Happened” and “Hellfire,” and explained what they intended we saw a publicity opportunity for your next movie, “The Cowboys.” We are turning your tribute here into a TV special which will create interest in the movie. The great thing about it is the television network, ABC, will be paying us for our publicity.”

He continued, “Your parents have signed off on the contract. We own most of the footage, but not all, it has been interesting putting it together, I thought movies had a tight schedule. When you get down to it, it is an advertisement. Nothing like this has been done before. The closest was when Walt Disney did his specials on the building of Disneyland.”

I asked, “How much am I making?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars plus residuals, though we don’t think there will be that much, it will just go on TV once.”

Much later he was proven so wrong in that statement. Since it was a first of a kind effort it was used many times over in cinematic classrooms, also Mr. Evans mustn’t have heard of ‘Reruns’ on TV.

Mayor North approached me.

“I am Master of Ceremonies for today. We will show the movie, then I will introduce you, there will be two awards today, from the City of Bellefontaine you will be given an ‘Outstanding Citizen’ award, it is a plaque. Logan County will present their Outstanding Athletic award, you will say a few words of thanks, and that will be it.”

‘Live with it, Live with it,’ I thought.

“Okay, sounds easy enough.”

Mayor North gave me a sharp look at that.

The movie started with a scene of a young man hitchhiking, it had to be a stand-in for me. The narrator explained that the Ricky Jackson story started on a summer trip. They show a fast montage of rides across the country with upbeat music in the background, just a kid out having a little adventure. Then the announcer dropped his voice and told us things turned serious.

Next appeared wanted posters for the Johnson Brothers, John, and Ernest. They were wanted ‘Dead or Alive’ for nine bank robberies in three states. They had killed six people and wounded four. There was an outstanding reward of twenty-five thousand dollars.

Then there was a reenactment of the robbery and me shooting the two bad guys. Next was an interview with Mr. Easterly about the locals’ reaction to the robbery and then transitioned into bull riding. They used stock footage for the local fairs I rode in.

After that was the Spin and Marty show, you could hear the laughter out front when I was thrown in the horse trough. Then they had a brief interview with Annette where she told how cute I was, and that I still owed her a kiss.

Eat your heart out guys!

From there it was on to the movie, “It Never Happened.” They showed extended footage of me dragged by the horse. John Wayne then appeared and told me how I could fall off a horse better than anyone he knew! He also added that I was a hard worker on the set and knew how to ride, shoot and rope with the best of them.

I have never held a lariat in my life. It must be the movies.

Then I was really surprised, there was an appearance by Elvis. He was in his Army uniform in Germany. He thanked me for helping him out with a little problem down in Mexico, and that allowed him to serve his country.

“Thank you, Ricky, maybe we could do a duet someday.”

From there it went up to an oil rig and they showed outtakes, in the movie if you blinked you would miss me, here it looked like I had a role. They had some footage of me without a shirt on, I was tanned and fit. It really highlighted my black hair and blue eyes. Someone with the camera must have liked me that day because they had some shots that made me good looking.

Hmm, they were all male cameramen, no don’t think about it.

Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys told how they had a fun song for a young cowboy, and how I rode in with John Wayne. The next thing you know there was a gold record. Of course, they had to play the song.

Texas Ranger Walker appeared all dressed up for a change. I remember him as jeans, and pearl button shirts. He still had the shirt but now it was a good suit and a white hat. His badge was pinned to the suit pocket. He told about the rustling gang and had mug shots of the three rustlers that were captured along with their ring leader. They had reenacted me drawing down with my Colt 45 peacemakers on the bad guys. The reward was eighty-five thousand dollars.

Two of the rustlers got away, but they weren’t mentioned. That was another story.

The footage of the National Junior Bull Riding Championship was spectacular. They started with shots of riders getting thrown and the clowns saving them. Then there was my winning ride.

I still marvel at how I hung on that day. People ask me how I did that trick, as though I planned on getting thrown off and back on, once from each side, while holding on for dear life. I will never get on a bull again if I can help it.

There was my appearance on American Bandstand. Dick Clark when interviewed said he was certain the world would see a lot more of me. I noticed he didn’t use the words, “hear more of me.”

The film, of the last holes, Ohio State Boys Golf Championship, was sedate in comparison.

The best part was Judy giving me a huge hug and kiss on the cheek in Technicolor glory. Take that Anne Howison.

Then it was time for the awards, I and the local dignitaries walked out onto the stage. A Trophy and plaques were presented. The Mayor had one surprise, “We are putting up signs at the major city limits, Bellefontaine, Ohio, home of Ricky Jackson 1958 Champion Bull Rider, 1958 Ohio Boys Golf State Champion, Movie Actor, and Singer. From all the shouts, screams and applause you would’ve thought I had actually done something. Well, I had, but I knew most of it was accidental. ‘Live with it.’

The speeches were made. Strange when a politician gives a speech congratulating you, they make it sound like they earned the glory.

I said all the right words, thanking everyone and their brother. I ended saying.

“I’m catching the next flight to California, I owe a girl there a kiss.”

How was I to know that Warner Brothers had a camera in the corner and caught this on film? That was the beginning of a fake romance between me and Annette.

For the record, we only met once more, but according to the tabloids and gossips we were all over each other. I did get a note from her occasionally when something really juicy would be printed, but that also is another story.

I got out of there with a trophy and a plaque, plus the family had another twenty-five thousand dollars. Not bad for a three-minute talk.

It took us a while to get out of the theater with all the well-wishing.

As we were leaving Doctor Costin who had been in the theater with other local businessmen came up to us. He congratulated me on my achievements.

Commenting, “I had heard them all but when you put it together it is amazing.” He then proceeded to quiz Dad. “Jack I hear you are going into the rental property business.”

“Yes I am; we have one unit rented, and buying some others.”

“Well you know a lot of business is conducted at the country club, I would be proud to sponsor you if you wanted to join.”

“Thanks, Doc, I’ve been thinking about just that. Where can I get an application?”

“I will have one at the front desk of my office if you want to drop by.”

“I’ll do that.”

From railroad extra board to the country club set in a minute. It was a really good afternoon for our family.

We only made it another couple of steps when George Weaver cornered us.

“Folks, I’ll keep this short, are you overwhelmed, thrilled, humbled and happy?”

“Yes, Yes, Yes, and Yes,” I replied.

“Great, I have my story,” he said with a smile. I liked his interview technique, I had seen so many on TV asking the dumbest questions; George was refreshing.

Our family went out to dinner. We went to the Hopewell Dairy our local dairy; they had a soda fountain where you could buy hot dogs, hamburgers and French fries. Those were okay, what was great were the banana splits!

They had a bunch, really a large hand of bananas and each banana had a sticker, you selected a banana and you paid whatever the number on the back of the sticker said.

You paid anywhere from one cent to twenty-five cents. The regular price was twenty cents if you didn’t want to gamble. We never got one for one cent, but we always tried.

Mum and Dad told me about all the negotiations going back and forth about what would be in the movie. It had been tense for a while about the golf tournament. If I didn’t win first place they weren’t going to include it. Once the tournament started they were never in doubt.

We went home, changed into comfortable clothes and watched Your Hit Parade, Walt Disney Presents and The Phil Silvers Show. We all loved Sgt. Bilko. Dad swore he knew the guy they modeled the show on in the army.

That night I reread a favorite. I wondered if they would ever have a spindizzy.

A few minutes before eleven o’clock on Saturday the doorbell rang. Don Thompson and Paul Samson had arrived. Introductions were made, Mum and Dad stayed with us while I paid them both for the day and Paul for driving. Dad had scrambled yesterday and got the NDA’s we needed. There were two sets of three copies; their individual copy, one of each of theirs for me, and one of each for our lawyer. They all needed to be signed, so in effect we all had originals.

I then took them to the garage and showed them what I had. They listened attentively and were very interested in my notebook. However, when they looked at the prototype they would look at each other and look away quickly.

I finally had enough and told them, “Guys it’s okay to laugh, I know it is a Rube Goldberg device.

That broke the ice; they both agreed that they had never seen such a homemade contraption before. They loved the parts I had used. After they settled down we got into a heavy discussion of what was needed. Don made schematics of the electronics, Paul a rough drawing of the mechanical parts.

They agreed to do a layout of each of their portions and then get together to make certain they matched. When that was done they would put together a bill of materials, a BOM, pronounced Bomb, required to build the unit. They would also provide component and assembly drawings.

A major component not decided upon yet was the housing. They both recommended polypropylene plastic. They would check back at Western Electric to see who could build prototype molds.

There would be six of them, two molds for the barrel, two for the body and two for the handle, a right and left side component. They would be cheaply made, only intended to produce a hundred parts each rather than tens of thousands.

They would do all this for a mere one thousand dollars each. They about fell over when I held out my hand and said you have a deal.

I wrote the work to be performed as contract employees and the pay in my notebook and we all signed the agreement. I would have our lawyer draw up a formal agreement but this would get things started.

I paid them an additional one hundred dollars each; and agreed to pay them one hundred dollars weekly for six weeks, holding back three hundred dollars until successful completion of the project. They didn’t seem to think that their parts would be difficult.

That was the highlight of my Saturday. I wrote Judy a longer letter than normal describing the events of the last twenty-four hours.

I read most of the day; it had robots and the three laws governing them but some of the unintended consequences that could occur.

Sunday was a very quiet day at our house; I think the week had caught up with the whole family. I walked downtown in the morning, but as usual, most businesses were closed. The only people out were dressed for church. The weather was still holding but there was a nip in the air so I headed home and read some more.

It was about some guys who had escaped from German prisons in World War II, recaptured and held in an old castle. Those guys never gave up, they were real heroes.

Chapter 6

Monday was clear and cold so I could go for my run. I would vary my course but it always came out to about five miles. While running I wondered what I could do now that golf season was over. I didn’t have an interest in any other sports. I was going to learn Spanish, but it would only be one hour five days a week. Golf had taken three hours a day when including travel time to the country club, and weekends.

The particular route I was running today took me up by the Air Force radar station. This station was part of the “Pine Tree” line. It was the third line of defense after the “Dew Line,” and “Mid- Canada Line.” The base was surrounded by cyclone fencing with barbed wire on top, facing out to prevent intruders.

There was a gravel road around the inner perimeter, outside was all open fields, except for the west side, where there was a dirt road giving access to a farmers field running next to the fence. It was along this road that I ran, as part of my five-mile loop. Past the farmer's field unlike the other sides of the base, a dense woods was adjacent to the road I ran.

The radome’s for the two large radar units were located on the peak of Campbell’s Hill. These were not at the center of the base, but right next to where I normally ran just inside the fencing.

On this particular day as I was running and thinking of my immediate future, I saw a reflection off some glass, back in the woods. I kept running, but it nagged at me. When I was down the road, and past a bend out of the sightline of the reflection I saw, I cut into the woods.

There I slowed down and went into stalking mode. I had hunted plenty with my Dad and knew how to move carefully enough not to disturb the game. I wasn’t sure why I was doing this, but it looked suspicious. The cold war had the entire country on edge for years; maybe that influenced my actions.

I walked normally trying not to make a lot of sounds. As I got closer to where I thought I had seen something I stopped. I watched the area for several minutes looking for any signs of movement. There were none so I cautiously advanced some more and stopped. I was rewarded for my caution, I saw movement ahead.

A man came into view carrying a camera with a telephoto lens. He was heading away from the airbase at this point.

I followed him, just keeping him in sight. As he came out of the woods there was an empty car sitting there. It was an old non-descript Chevrolet Bel Air, maybe 1952, it was a blue and white four-door sedan.

I watched as he got in, performed a three-point turn and drove away. I was close enough to see that the license plate was a yellow background with black numbers or letters. I couldn’t read the tag number or the state.

It was only a quarter-mile from where he was parked to State Road 540 which went into Bellefontaine, so I could see him make a left turn to go into town. I decided to change my running route and started after him. I knew I couldn’t catch him but I was still curious.

The run down Chillicothe was easy as it was downhill all the way. Of course, I didn’t catch him and hadn’t thought I would, but you never know. When I got to the bottom of the hill at the corner of Main, where the previous car wreck was, I turned right to head home.

I was passing the only motel in town, the Fountain Lodge when I spotted a blue and white Bel Air parked in front of one of the end units. I slowed down and saw the license plate was yellow with black numbers. It was from New York State.

I didn’t have a pen or paper with me so I tried to memorize it. I could see that wasn’t going to work so I went to the motel office. I knew the Sperry’s who ran the motel from my paper route days.

Lou Senior was at the front desk. I asked to borrow a pen and paper which he promptly provided. I wrote the plate number down.

He asked, “What’s going on Ricky?”

“I’m not certain, I just saw a car like the one parked outside, up real close to the airbase. It had plates like the one on the car, though I didn’t get the numbers up there.

He laughed, “Junior G-Man on the job.”

“Well you never know, I first saw him in the woods up close to the fence with a camera with a telephoto lens.”

“That is a concern.”

He looked in the guest register, and told me, “He has been staying here for three days and is not scheduled for check out for another two. What are you thinking of doing?”

“I’m going to let someone in authority know what I saw; it may have a good explanation.”

“Makes sense to me, who are you going to notify?”

“I think I will head back to the airbase and let them know. First I will have to head home, I do have school today, I will talk to my parents.”

“Okay, I will keep an eye on things here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Sperry.”

I headed home at a dead run uphill, the surprising thing was that it was not that hard on me. Mum and Dad were having their morning coffee and tea when I got home. I told them what I had seen on my run and thought I should let someone at the airbase know about it. They agreed; I took a quick shower and got dressed. Dad drove me out to the airbase.

At the front gate of the base, there was an armed guard, a sergeant. He asked what our business was. Dad told him it was a possible security breach.

That got us to the officer of the day immediately, a Captain Monroe. When he heard my story he called Colonel Manning the base commander.

We were taken to his sparsely furnished office, and I related the events of the morning once again. After hearing my story he pulled a fat binder off a bookshelf.

He stated, “Like everything in the military there are procedures to be followed.”

He thumbed through the binder until he found the section he was looking for. He then picked up his phone and dialed a number from the procedure book. As the phone was ringing at the other end, he explained.

“In this case, I’m to notify the FBI. I am calling their Columbus office.”

About that time someone answered the telephone, he explained who he was, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Manning, Commander 664th Aircraft Control and Warning Squadron, Bellefontaine, Ohio. He was reporting per procedure a possible security breach. He was transferred to an agent.

The Colonel reintroduced himself and gave a brief rundown of what had occurred. He answered some questions which seemed to revolve around my sanity and citizenship. From his replies, he must have thought I was a good citizen and appeared to be sane.

He said, “We will see you then,” and hung up.

“Mr. Jackson the FBI will be here in several hours, they have requested that Richard stay here until they arrive.”

“That is okay, but I’ve got to leave, I work on the New York Central and I have a train to get to Cleveland, I have to be at work in an hour. Can you see that Rick gets home?”

“Certainly, I will give him a ride myself, that is unless the FBI arrests him.”

I sat up straight at that!

Then the Colonel laughed, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist that.” Dad left mumbling about damned officers.

After Dad left I realized that I was due at school. I explained my problem to the Colonel with the poor sense of humor. He was all business when he called the school.

He explained to someone in the office that I would be out for the day as I was involved in a special air force project. He would provide me with a note.

While we were waiting for the FBI to arrive he gave me a complete tour of the base. That took over an hour, but they hadn’t arrived yet so he left me in the control room. This was a windowless room that held the radar scopes. An aircraft would show as a blip.

When one came on the screen the operator would hold up his hand. An airman would answer his call. The airman would be told a series of numbers representing the current location and heading of the aircraft.

The airman using a grease pen would turn to a huge plexiglass panel that had a circle and longitude and latitude markings. He would write the information on the panel mirror image so that it could be read from the other side. This would be updated every thirty seconds.

With this information, airmen sitting on the other side of the panel could now calculate the speed and path of the aircraft. They were not concerned with slow-moving single airplanes.

They were guarding against a flight of Soviet bombers. If they are in doubt they would scramble fighters out of Wright Patterson, Dayton or Lockbourne, Columbus.

The airman detailed to keep me out of trouble said they had a big scare last year and scrambled everything they could. It turned out to be a suicidal flock of birds which flew right up to the radome, and then were fried while showing up as blips.

Two FBI agents showed up, they must always travel in pairs, at least in my brief experience. There were two in Colorado, now two here. They were agents Curtis and Peterson. Mr. Curtis identified himself as the senior agent. They both looked senior to me, like about to retire or drop dead senior. They showed their identification to the Colonel, but not me.

When I shot those two bank robbers in Colorado the FBI had been professional, but very nice. These guys may have been professional, but they weren’t nice.

The first words out of Mr. Curtis’s mouth were; “We need a private room to interrogate him,” pointing at me.

The Colonel looked like he had swallowed a lemon, but had no choice so led us to a conference room. Once there they took their coats off; that let me see their shoulder holsters. Agent Curtis opened a briefcase and pulled a file out, he handed a form to Agent Peterson to fill in.

Agent Curtis told me to repeat my story. I did; about five times, they kept asking questions about different aspects. It was as though they were trying to get me to change my story. It was a simple enough series of events that I was consistent throughout.

Finally, Agent Curtis said, “So you saw a guy in the woods that you can’t identify, he got into a car that had yellow and black plates you couldn’t read. Later you saw the same make of car, which is one of the more common makes, and it had yellow and black plates.”

“You saw it at a motel; you didn’t see the driver there, so you have no idea if he even remotely looks like the guy you saw a little of in the woods. Oh yeah, and you think he had a camera with telephoto lenses.”

“How many cameras do you own Ricky?”

“None,” I replied.

“Have you ever used a telephoto lens?”

“No, Sir,” I replied. I was beginning to feel very uneasy about where this was going.

“You know what I think Ricky?”

“No, Sir,” I replied.

“Before we came out here we made a phone call to DC, they ran your name through the files; headquarters came up with you being a hero in Colorado, by shooting two bank robbers. They also found out you helped break up a cattle rustling operation in Texas. It had been a while since you have been a hero, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t understand what you are saying,” I said.

“I think you are seeing things under your bed; so you can be a hero again, is what I think.”

“Sir, I have just reported what I saw, why would that make me a hero?”

“It wouldn’t and I think you have wasted our time today; I would think twice, young man before I did that again.”

At that point, they called the Colonel in and told him their conclusion and left.

The Colonel told me, “I’m sorry about this Rick, you were trying to do the right thing. However, they are the professionals and we have to go with their conclusions.”

At least the Colonel arranged a ride home for me and handed me a note for school.

Chapter 7

What a bummer! I was so embarrassed to sound a false alarm like that. When I got home and shared the events of the day with Mum she darkly said.

“Winston warned us of the Russians, I just hope this is nothing.” The way she said, “Winston,” gave me pause.

“Mum did you know Winston Churchill personally.”

“Of course I did, Elizabeth and I would stop at Number 10 Downing almost every night; they always had good hot tea on, all through the war. He usually was down in his hole, but he frequently would come out and join us.”

“What was the ‘hole’?” I asked.

“A deep bomb shelter; where they did all the planning for the war. It was an ugly dreary place, I only went down once, and never cared if I saw it again.”

What you don’t know about your parents!

I puttered in the garage with my hairdryer the rest of the afternoon trying different fan speeds and temperatures. I must have wetted and dried the hair from Mrs. Baily fifty times. Well actually according to my notebooks it was forty-one times.

Dinner was a quiet affair, we had pork chops and mashed potatoes. Dad was on the train to Cleveland and wouldn’t be back till tomorrow. It was supposed to get really cold tonight; I hoped he didn’t freeze in that caboose. They had a little coal fed stove, but the car was so drafty that it wasn’t much help.

Dad said they used to be in good condition but the railroads were losing so much money they weren’t repairing their equipment.

I had to talk to Dad when he got home. I know he was a little touchy about using the money I had given the family, but he really didn’t have to work on the railroad anymore. He should quit and focus all his efforts on getting the rental housing business going.

Just as we finished dinner the phone rang. Mum answered it, “Jackson residence.”

She turned to me, “Ricky it is for you,’ handing me the instrument.

“Hello, Rick Jackson here, who is this?”

“Rick it is Lou Sperry at the motel. The guy that you were asking about just checked out, that is a little strange because he was booked until the day after tomorrow. People don’t check out late in the afternoon, just thought I would let you know. Oh yeah, and he was dressed all in black.”

“Thanks, Mr. Sperry, I owe you one.”

“Now what to do,” I wondered.

“What was that about Ricky?” inquired Mum.

I relayed my conversation with Mr. Sperry.

She told me, “I think it is time that you took a little run, it is dark out; why don’t you run up by the airbase and see if any strange cars are parked there. If there are you might want to let the Officer of the Day know he might be having a visitor.”

“Good thinking Mum, and if it is nothing I will come right home.”

Before I left I made a quick stop at the gun cabinet and retrieved one of my Colts and checked that it was loaded. I put it in my coat pocket. Mum saw this but said nothing.

It was a ten-minute trot up to where I had seen the Bel Air parked before. While running up to the parking spot I realized I was missing my first Spanish lesson. When I got there, the car was parked there, and this time I knew the license plate number, it was the car from the motel. No one was in it.

I flat out ran, to the front gate and asked to see the Officer of the Day. I thought I might be given a hard time but the airman just picked up his phone. The officer who showed up was someone who I hadn’t met, a Lieutenant Foster. I quickly told him my story.

He had been brought up to date on the events earlier in the day and made some decisions quickly. He first put in a call to Colonel Manning. He then detailed a couple of airmen armed with 38 revolvers to accompany us. We went to a vacant building next to the fence with a clear view of the radomes. No lights were turned on.

I heard one of the airmen, whisper; “I hope the Colonel gets here with the key to the armory.”

I gave him a searching look which he took as a question.

“We don’t have any bullets, they’re locked up.”

“Huh?” I brilliantly went.

The lieutenant explained, in peacetime, there is a greater danger of gun accidents rather than actually needing them loaded, so the procedure is to keep the bullets locked up until needed.”

I almost got a headache thinking of it.

I didn’t get a chance, the other airman urgently whispered, “Sir,” and pointed out the window.

We could see a shadowy figure at the fence. It appeared to be doing something to the fence. The figure raised its arms I could see that it was a pair of bolt cutters. They were large, like the ones the janitors used at school to cut old locks off lockers.

We watched as the figure continued cutting.

The lieutenant said, “Let’s wait till he is on our side of the fence before taking him. That way there is no question he is up to no good.”

I liked this lieutenant’s attitude a whole lot more than the FBI’s.

It didn’t take long before the figure lifted a portion of the fence and crawled under it. We went outside and came up behind a man who was fastening something to the base of the largest radome.

The lieutenant said, “Halt, hands up.”

The airman had their unloaded weapons out. I eased my loaded Colt peacemaker out of my pocket.

The man turned and pulled a pistol. As he was turning I shot at him. We were both lucky. I missed him; I also missed the dynamite he was attaching to the tower leg. He quickly lowered his pistol when he saw all weapons facing him.

The airman marched him and his bag full of equipment to the dayroom. The Colonel arrived about that time.

He took one quick look at the contents of the bag and said, “Go on High Alert, lock the base down, no one in, no one out.”

Turning to the lieutenant he handed him a key.

“Arm all guards; set two guards at the breach in the fence. Set up the floodlights to illuminate the breach at the fence.”

He then picked up a phone on the day room desk. He identified himself and told whoever he was talking to that the base had an attempted breach and was on High Alert. He recommended that Wright Patterson and Lockbourne be scrambled.

He said, “Yes Sir,” and hung up.

He then called the night desk at the FBI in Columbus.

The phone rang, the lieutenant picked up, identifying himself then said, “Yes Sir, and handed the phone to the Colonel who also identified himself.

He took notes as he kept repeating, “Yes Sir.”

He hung up the phone, then he turned to us and told us.

“That was 30th Air Division, General Simmons at Willow Run. We are the only Midwest station up. The 662 at Brookfield, 665 Keweenaw, Connellsville 772 and Rockville 782 are all down; also the gap filler at Mount Nebo is off the air. The whole Midwest is open to attack.

I was allowed to call home and update Mum that I was stuck on base because of a lockdown. The Colonel asked me not to tell her about the other stations being down, and I respected that. I also thought Mum knew a hell of a lot more about enemy bombers than he ever would.

During the wait, the Colonel checked that the guards were in place as ordered, and the area was lighted by the floodlights different from any I had ever seen before. I asked about them and found out that the floodlights, were large bulbs set in a reflector, which was mounted on an adjustable pole, they could even turn which direction the light faced.

I examined one and saw that it swiveled on some sort of round ball, like the pictures of an elbow joint from my health class books.

It was a tense couple of hours, especially when the radar operators spotted intruders. Fighters were vectored in on them and they turned away. It was a flight of twenty-four Russian bombers. They apologized over the air, they were having navigation difficulties.

The FBI showed up after the excitement was all over. It wasn’t the same two agents, these were much younger. They were polite and asked me to repeat my entire story.

This time it wasn’t in a room with only the two agents, Sneed and Walston. The Colonel invited himself in on the session and they had no problems with that, or least didn’t say anything.

I told them starting with my run much earlier today. I left nothing out, including the attitude of the previous two FBI agents. The younger appearing of the two agents Walston, smirked when he said, “They hadn’t seen the full file on you.”

“What about a full file?” I asked.

“They had only seen your activities in Colorado and Texas; they didn’t see the President’s request or the flags on your mother.”

Without him even having to ask I turned to the Colonel,

“President Eisenhower is my godfather. We hadn’t been in communication for some years, so he had a background check performed prior to reopening relations.”

“Now are you going to tell him who your godmother is,” dryly asked Agent Sneed?

“Queen Elizabeth,” I replied.

The Colonel just shook his head, he had just fended off a possible nuclear attack. I don’t think anything could surprise him now.

“Would they have believed my story because of that?”

“No, but they would’ve been a lot politer. I won’t kid you, Rick, from what you had earlier today factually, I would’ve reached the same conclusion. I would’ve been wrong,” said Agent Sneed.

“What I don’t understand is why your mother let you go into such a dangerous situation in the first place.”

Agent Walston put in, “I suspect that flag on her file would answer that.”

“Mum knows I can handle myself, I won’t charge recklessly into danger.”

“Yeah, just ask those two bank robbers,” Walston replied sarcastically.

Just then the phone rang; the Colonel answered but wordlessly handed it to Agent Sneed. Sneed listened and did the yes sir, yes sir bit.

“The man you apprehended is a known member of a communist sleeper cell. He has been under observation, we don’t know how he got this far. I am under orders to keep this under wraps. We don’t want to blow this up to an international incident at this time, why I don’t know.”

“What does that mean?” asked the Colonel.

“It was a security drill, nothing happened, you will have to brief your men.”

“Rick, we can’t order you to keep quiet, but if you do say anything about this, it will all be denied and you will look foolish.”

“I won’t say anything, besides I am tired of talking to reporters.”

The Colonel chuckled, the two Agents from out of town didn’t know about last Friday. Of course, they wouldn’t have been good agents if they hadn’t asked why I had been talking to reporters.

“Actually it was only one reporter, and it was about a rally held in my honor for winning the State Golf Championship.”

The Colonel kept his mouth shut about it is more than that.

The agents were on the phone with Columbus for another half hour, more agents would be arriving in the morning to check out the car, the motel room he stayed in and what they called the crime scene. They came up with a ‘cover’ story that the saboteur was a ‘bunco artist.’

I, like most of America, had watched, “I Led Three Lives,” on TV so I knew the terms.

The saboteur who I hadn’t seen or spoken to since we captured him had been searched, then handcuffed and locked in the single-cell jail they had on base. He would be taken to Columbus by the two FBI Agents. I asked why they even had a jail cell.

“On rare occasions an airman will have too much to drink, and get a little feisty, so we let them sleep it off there,” stated the Colonel.

“How rare,” I asked?

“Oh, about every Saturday night,” he said with a grin, “there is not much to do in Bellefontaine for these young men.”

After several more admonishments from the agents about talking I was allowed to leave. The Colonel had a Lieutenant drive me home. Mum was at the door. I filled her in completely on events. There was no way that I wouldn’t share events with my parents.

I would tell no one else, including Judy. I told Mum that the FBI implied there was more to her file than an association with the Queen. She told me that it couldn’t be much whatever it was.

Mum then told me she knew about security from her wartime days. She and Dad would say nothing to anyone else. I was exhausted from the day. I went to bed and directly to sleep.

Chapter 8

The next morning after my run, which wasn’t near the airbase, I had my shower. I wished I could adjust the direction of the water flow once again when it hit me. I had seen the answer last night on those floodlights.

A ball and socket arrangement would work! I knew you could put a hole in the ball because that was where the electrical cord went. The only concern was water leaking from between the ball and the socket. This would get worse as the ball and socket wore, from use.

Then I realized, the water would be turned off when not in use. The only time water would be present was when it flowed out the showerhead since water took the path of least resistance there should be no leaks if the tolerances were reasonably tight. Now, who could make one for me?

Before I left for school I got a phone call from Lou Sperry.

“Rick, I thought I would let you know, the FBI was here about that guy. Turns out he’s a con artist they have been chasing. They searched the room he had been staying in, but I don’t think they found anything.”

“Thanks for letting me know Mr. Sperry, I was curious.”

“Yeah, me to, there for a while I thought we had a spy on our hands.”

“Mr. Sperry, I think that is only in the movies.”

“You would know about that wouldn’t you, the movies.”

“I have only been a bit actor. I’m not an expert on movies.”

“The closest to one this town has,” he rejoined.

“Well in that case in my expert opinion there was no spy.”

“Got it,” he chuckled as he hung up.

At school, I heard one kid whose dad worked at the airbase say:

“They had a drill last night. It was no big deal, they locked down for a few hours and that was it. My dad said they are just wasting taxpayer dollars practicing for things that will never happen.”

I remembered a phrase I had read somewhere.

“People sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.”

While the people I met last night weren’t what I would call rough, they were certainly ready to do violence on our behalf.

I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t add anything without giving away what I knew. There was a lot of talk about Friday’s event at the Holland Theater. It was like I had just got back from my summer vacation. People wanted to talk about events all over. Except for this time, everyone knew everything.

I was looked at in a different light by everyone including my teachers. The strange part is after their initial comments they pretty much left me alone except for one thing. The autograph book fad had run its course in my middle school years. Now they were brought out and I think I signed one for every kid in school.

I came up with a little poem, “Roses are red. Violets are blue. I will remember the rodeo and you.”

Then I would add the old standard line, “I’m a poet and I know it, my shoes show it, they are Longfellow’s.” I really do know I’m not a poet.

I suspect when our yearbook is published I will be signing those also. People were taking the attitude, “I knew him when...”

Gee no expectations here.

Lunch was interesting. Tom Wilson a junior class clown yelled, “Food fight,” and started throwing rolls he had collected from other kid’s lunch. No one else joined in with him.

He threw the five rolls he had. Then Mr. Hurley collared him. I do mean collared him, he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulled him up on his toes and marched him out of the cafeteria presumably for an eternity of detention.

With our watchdog gone, someone picked up one of the errant rolls and threw it again. That started it! The fight was on. Fortunately, everyone stuck to rolls so after everyone in the cafeteria had several throws we all picked them up. Mr. Hurley came back into the room alone just as the last of the rolls had been thrown in the trash. He looked around and stated loudly,

“As you can see I won’t tolerate any food fights in this cafeteria.”

How he didn’t see the rolls in the garbage can I don’t know, it was right by the door.

No one responded to him, he just kept eating and talking. I was happy. I had nailed Tom Humphries in the back of the head from across the room.

In Algebra class Sue Barton told me they were having a hayride at their farm on Saturday night, and I could come if I wanted to. I said I would like to, did I need to bring a girl?  I mean everyone knew what hayrides were for.

She replied, “I thought you could be with me.”

Now, this left me with a little dilemma. Judy and I had never said we were girlfriend or boyfriend much less going steady.

I thought for about a second and said, “Sure; that sounds neat.”

Sue told me, “I saw you in the film Friday with that girl from Columbus so I know you aren’t looking for a girlfriend. I need a date and I don’t want a steady boyfriend so you would be more like an escort.”

Well, my ego never got a chance to swell. That’s a good thing, right?

She let me know where she lived off of Ludlow road and to be there at 6:00. There would be the hayride, then a bonfire and wiener and marshmallow roast. Tom Morton and Tracey Gallagher were coming. Maybe I could get a ride with Tom.

Tom and Tracey had been going steady since the homecoming. She didn’t have his class ring because we couldn’t buy those until our junior year.

He did have a DeMolay ring and she wore it on her finger. To make it fit, she, like all the other girls spent hours wrapping it in angora, different colors for different outfits.

I saw Tom in the hall between classes and arranged a ride for Saturday night.

After school, I went down to Wingers for my Spanish lesson. I knew I was in trouble when she started out with, “Hola” and never said a word in English. She would point at something and repeat its name.

I felt like a fool but kept with it. After a while, she would point at something and I could repeat its name back to her. She also brought out a calendar and went through the months, days, and dates with me in Spanish.

At the end of the hour, she handed me a Spanish textbook and said something while pointing at the first chapter. I think she meant I was to study the lessons and vocabulary in chapter one.

The whole time she never said a word in English. She ended with “Buenas Noches.” I think that meant, “Get the heck out of here,” because she made a shooing motion.

Dinner was fun until Mary told her brothers they were, “Eres estúpido.” The estúpido sounded enough like stupid for them to get it. Denny and Eddie wanted Mum to punish her. Dad and I were above this fray.

Mum surprised us all and said well you just need to learn Spanish. I will talk to Mrs. Hernandez tomorrow. You would have thought Denny and Eddie had just been beaten from their reactions.

Later Mum and Dad shared that they had thought to learn Spanish a good idea, so we would know a second language like most Europeans. She had just used the opportunity to force the issue.

Chapter 9

That night I reread an old favorite, the earth is invaded and conquered but the invaders end up dying from microbes.

School the next day was just another day and it went by. I was always busy in class doing my work to keep ahead so I can’t say it was slow, just nothing noteworthy. I wrote my usual letter to Judy updating her on events. I even told her about the hayride I was going on.

After school, I stopped at Guys Newsstand and bought another notebook; this one for an adjustable shower head. When I got home I wrote out the general use and purpose of this notebook, then signed and dated it. I also wrote my first thoughts.

The device I had in mind would adapt any standard straight shower head to being adjustable. The idea being if you removed a showerhead from the pipe fitting, the pipe fitting had a male threaded end. The showerhead itself would have a female thread.

I would have made three pieces. Part one would be a pipe length with a female end, which would thread onto the pipe fitting at the water output end. It would have a cup on its other end. That would form half of the ‘socket.’ This part of the socket would have a male thread around its outer lip.

The other half of the socket part two would be a cup with a female thread to fasten to the male threads. It would have a hole in the center of the cup so that it could slip over the third piece. The third part would be a threaded pipe with a male fitting so it could attach to the showerhead. The other end would have the ‘ball’ which would fit into the cup. The ball would have a hole through its center so water could flow through to the showerhead.

So to assemble the unit, you would first attach Part One to the water pipe. And then slide Part Two over Part Three. Place the ball of Part Three in the socket of Part One. Tighten the threads between Part One and Two. The last step is to fasten Part Three to the showerhead.

Boy, this would be more fun than last Christmas helping Dad assemble Mary’s dollhouse, with Tab A into Slot B. That sheet metal would cut you in a heartbeat.

My adaptor was simple to design, but how would I get it made? I decided to go back to Mr. Donaldson the shop teacher for ideas.

That night I read a book about a volcano erupting in Rome. It had people being fed to the lions, witches, earthquakes, lightning strikes and murder through poisoning. Exciting stuff but the language in the book written a century ago was so heavy it was tough going. My Aunt Merle had bought the classics I was reading as a set. I bet she never read this one.

Thursday it was drizzling rain and looked like it had settled in for the day so I didn’t try to run. Mum had gotten up early and was doing laundry. She had Dad’s work pants set out to dry. She was using those metal frames that fit into each leg and were adjustable. They would hold the material taut so when they dried she didn’t have to iron them.

I arrived at school early, so I would have time to see Mr. Donaldson. I showed him my rough sketch in my notebook of what I was trying to make. He thought it was a good idea.

He said, “If you just want one, have a machine shop form the parts. If you want many then you will need molds made so they may be cast in aluminum.”

“I would like just one to see if it will work,” I replied.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t, the only concern I would have is abrasion wear on the inside of the ball and socket. Since it will be sealed, there shouldn’t be a problem. If you use a machine shop you want them to use hard material like chrome for the interface of ball and socket. They would have to send them out for plating but then the unit would last forever.”

He proceeded to tell me, “A machine shop will want drawings. Who will do that?”

“I hadn’t got that far in my thinking. How much do you think that would cost?”

“I would charge one hundred dollars if it was me.”

I came back with, “Are you interested in the job?’

“For one hundred definitely, that would take care of Christmas for us, three kids make it expensive.”

“Okay, but when you make the drawing, use Jackson Engineering in the letterbox, that way there is no question who owns the product. Also, I ask that you sign a Nondisclosure Agreement, I don’t want this to get out.”

“I can do that, also this is an adaptor, do you want a set of drawings for this to be built right into a showerhead for new installations?”

“Yes please.”

“I would ask another hundred dollars for that drawing.”

“That would be fine.”

I wrote out the deal in my notebook, and we both signed and dated it. He was very surprised when I pulled out my wallet and gave him three twenties.

“Is the rest on completion okay?” I asked.

“More than okay Rick, I can see that you are going to make some serious money in your life. Keep me in mind if you have any other projects.”

“Now is there a machine shop in town that you would recommend?”

“I recommend Bellefontaine Tool and Die, but you should know that my brother and I own and run it.”

“That’s great, the fewer people involved, the better I like it. Please give me a quote on building five adaptor units. Please handle that with your brother and just give me a quote. While you are at it would you please buy several brands of common shower heads and see if it would require much in the way of redesign to build in the ball and socket. I will pay for the shower heads.”

“We can do all of that. When I said, keep me in mind if you had any other projects I didn’t think it would be this fast!”

“You have to be careful about what you ask,” I replied with a grin.

My day was off to an excellent start, I thought it would take a while to get the showerhead project moving. Now I was on my way to a working model. My next steps if it really worked like I thought it would be in a world new to me. I would have to figure out how to set up a manufacturing plant and then a sales and distribution network.

The only problem was that knowing I would need manufacturing, sales and distribution was all that I knew. I had read of the concepts in my novels, but I had no idea how to implement them.

Besides I didn’t want to get bogged down trying to run a company at age fifteen. I suspect it would be a disaster. I think I would be better off trying to license the patents to companies already in the business.

I would have to patent the concept which I would have to do no matter how I went about it. Once I have a patent in hand, I would approach the major showerhead manufacturers and see if they would license them from me.

Before I left Mr. Donaldson’s office I looked up shower head manufacturers in his set of Thomas Registers. Delta, Moen, Pfister, Kohler, American Standard and Detroit Faucets seemed to be the big players. I wrote their names and contact information in my notebook.

Classes were just classes that day, nothing exciting. The cafeteria was calm after the food fight yesterday. Tom Wilson got ribbed a lot. He took it in good humor. He got a week’s detention for his antics. He said it was worth it to know that the rest of the school had put one over on Mr. Hurley.

I saw Mr. Hurley standing in the doorway. He could hear what Tom was saying. I’m not sure anything had been put over on Mr. Hurley. He had a little smirk on his face. I wondered if he had seen those rolls in the garbage can after all.

Did that mean our teacher with the strictest reputation wasn’t as mean as we thought? Were we really getting away with anything? That idea sure took the fun out of it. I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to damage his reputation.

On the off chance, I was right, on the way out I said to Mr. Hurley.

“Those rolls were certainly bad yesterday.”

He smiled and said, “Yeah I noticed they all got thrown away.”

Then he winked at me. I think it is going to rain frogs, and dogs will dance in the street, the world must be coming to an end, our teacher is a human!

I passed Mrs. Ramsey in the hall, but she didn’t notice me. I know Pam Shaffer and Sam Shepard are still together, so the play must still be on track.

After school, I had two letters, one from Judy and another from the White House. I opened the White House letter first. It was a simple note.

“On behalf of a grateful nation, I thank you.”

It was signed, “Dwight D. Eisenhower.”

No reference to why he was thanking me, but I knew it was for the events of last Monday. I handed it wordlessly to Mum who had been waiting for me to open it.

Her only comment was, “Good show.”

Dad had been on a train to Cleveland when this all occurred had been mumbling about those, “damned commies,” all week. He thought Eisenhower should have dropped the bomb.  At least till Mum had straightened him out.

“Jack I lived through the blitz while you were safe at home. I don’t want to ever have our family face the horrors of an atomic war!”

That may not have changed Dad’s mind, but it did shut him up. He wasn’t a fool.

I took my letter from Judy to my room as I always did. We never wrote anything our parents couldn’t read, but I wanted privacy just in case. I had been a little worried when I wrote to her about the hayride, but she had no problems with it. In fact, it cleared the air for both of us. We lived too far apart to date.

We had to have social lives, when she went to their youth center she would like to dance. She wanted to continue to write and even if we never could get together it was still good to have someone to share daily events with that supported you.

I wasn’t certain about her dancing with other boys, but what she wrote made sense. I echoed those sentiments in the return letter I had started.

The Spanish lesson was fun. There had been a change in the classroom though. Mum had talked to Mrs. Hernandez and now our basement was her classroom. All four of us kids were now taking Spanish. Mum informed me that she was now paying for everything.

She kept the same pay scale so now Mrs. Hernandez was making thirty dollars a week for teaching one hour per day. I heard Mum tell Dad that her friend, Susie Winger and her husband Jim really appreciated having her out of the house for an hour a day.

I wondered why they would like that; then blushed like crazy when I realized what they might be doing. Old people should behave.

We had Swiss steak for dinner, along with mashed potatoes. It was one of my favorite meals. We kids all tried our fractured Spanish on each other. It was funny that the youngest Mary; knew the most words.

I read about a group of outlaws in Tunstall Forest and their adventures as related by Captain George North. It is one of the few stories that I’ve read that presents Richard Crookback in a favorable light.

Chapter 10

Saturday afternoon I received a joint phone call from my Engineers as Dad called them. Don Thompson had two phones at his house so they could be on the line at the same time. They reported they were making progress, and should have a complete set of drawings available by early December, and by the way, thank you very much for the checks.

Mum had written to them for me. We agreed that we didn’t have to have these calls every week unless they ran into difficulties. If all went well they would call me on the first Saturday of December.

Tom picked me up for the hayride. We then went to Tracey’s to pick her up. His parents had let him use the car, but he had agreed to wash and wax it for the privilege. He had just got his driver’s license, so it was all exciting for him. I offered to help with the car if he wanted to do it tomorrow. He jumped all over that idea.

When we picked Tracey up she wanted to know all about Sue Barton and I, how long had we been going out? I told her that we weren’t that we were just friends that would date occasionally. She didn’t seem to buy that but didn’t push the point.

The hayride was a ball. Sues dad took us out for an hour. Yes we did cuddle to keep warm, and there was a kiss or two, but nothing else. We just sang songs, joked and enjoyed ourselves. That continued on with the bonfire. I had never been to one so big. Sue’s Dad would collect brush all year; then lit it off in the late fall. When he lit the fire, it must have jumped thirty feet in the air.

After it had died down we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Mr. Barton had set picnic tables up in the field so we had everything we needed.

Sue’s parents would come and go just enough we didn’t feel smothered, but enough that we couldn’t get away with much. I noticed that Tom and Tracey went for a long walk in the dark, but they soon came back, shortly followed by Mr. Barton.

Sue walked me to the car and really laid a kiss on me. That was the first time I ever had a tongue involved with a kiss. Wow!

On the way home, Tracey said, “Just friends.”

It was late enough when we got home that I didn’t feel like reading.

Sunday I had to give Mum and Dad the complete details on the hayride. Well almost all of the details, I doubted they would be interested in any hugging and kissing that I may have done. I escaped that conversation as quickly as I could and went over to Tom’s to help wash and wax his parent’s car.

After that, we came back to my house, where Denny and Eddie soundly beat us at basketball. How could we have lost? They were both shorter than us. They were also faster, better passers, and a lot more accurate with their shooting. Also, Denny had picked up this annoying habit of stealing the ball.

This was the end of an exciting week.

Dad wanted to be seen as a landlord that took care of his tenants and property. That way he would attract a better class of renters to Jackson Housing.

We went home to find that poor Mary had really broken out in blisters all over her body. I don’t remember any of us being that bad. She was burning up with a fever so Mum kept damp rags on her forehead. She was asleep currently so we ate dinner. Mum hadn’t time to prepare anything, so Dad made some pancakes. Somehow it didn’t seem like a party. We just ate and were done.

Mum went back upstairs to see to Mary, while Dad and I did the dishes. While we were doing them, him washing and me drying, he asked me if I had seen the Winger's new car. I hadn’t. He told me to check out their driveway. They had a brand new 1958, Ford Edsel.

Dad said, “It has to be the most butt ugly car ever made!”

I had heard that about them but had never seen one. I would have to check it out.

I received a telephone call from my Scoutmaster, Mr. Geist. He asked me to participate in a planning group for a Boy Scout Camporee. It was to be a multi-council event and the largest gathering of Scouts ever held in Ohio. It would be held in May. I was being asked to work with our District group to suggest events for the boys. Our suggestions would feed up to our Council. Then in turn to the overall Camporee committee who would pick the most popular and feasible recommendations.

I said it sounded like fun. The meeting would be at a church near West Liberty, Tuesday night. He would pick me up at 6:30 if that was okay. I told him that would work.

I explained it to Dad when I hung up, and he shrugged, “Just be careful when I was your Cub Master they told me it would only take about two hours of work a month. You saw how that worked out.”

It took Dad about ten hours a month not counting all of Mum's time.

We watched a little Monday night TV but it was boring so I went to my room and read. It was about the Baltimore Gun Club and their cannon. It gave a new meaning to, “One of these days, Alice, right to the moon.”

Tuesday the weather was nasty, it was a cold hard rain which had set in for the day. I didn’t even think about running. Mary was still breaking out in blisters, which hadn’t started to burst yet. She came down to breakfast but just sat at the table, she hadn’t any appetite. She was so forlorn looking it was sad. Mum had dabbed each of her blisters with cornstarch to reduce the itching. She had also put a pair of mittens on her so even if she tried to scratch she could only rub and not dig.

Eddie brought a little smile to her face. He had pasted little red dots on her favorite Teddy Bear. He told her she would have to take care of Teddy because he also had the chickenpox.

She took the Bear and cuddled it while telling Teddy he had to get plenty of rest and drink lots of water. If his head ached she would put a cold rag on it. Eddie got smiles from all of us.

I did check out Winger's new car. Why would Ford try to sell a car that ugly? Dad’s comments were kind.

I stopped in before classes to see Mr. Donaldson and find out if progress had been made on my shower head and adaptor drawings. He had the drawing finished for the adaptor. It really looked good. He also had a written quote to make ten of them. They would be seventy-five dollars for the lot.

It worked out to a twenty-five dollar set up fee for the metal lathe, then five dollars each including time and material for the ten finished adaptors. Any future ones would be a ten-dollar setup fee, as they had the settings, so it would only be the time to actually set it up, and the finished parts would still be five dollars. I told him to go ahead with the order for ten.

I would bring the money and the NDA’s I needed to be signed tomorrow. Dad had told me he would get the lawyer to draw them up for Mr. Donaldson and his brother. Our lawyer now had them as templates that only had to be filled in.

Mr. Donaldson told me, “The Bellefontaine Copy and Blueprint shop can convert this drawing to a blueprint for you. That way you can have as many copies as you need.”

Since he knew the people well he offered to drop it off. He would have ten copies made and bill me two dollars a copy. I thanked him and told him I would see him tomorrow. Then I rushed off to class.

I was still able to get all my school work done in class or study hall. This made my school day go by fast. I was a speed reader before speed reading became known. I would read down the center of a page rather than side by side.

I never tried to say the words in my head. I just saw them on the paper. My comprehension rate was as good as anyone else. The only difference was that I was doing it at close to two thousand words a minute.

This is how I was able to read so many novels. Mum claimed I could read them so fast because I had so much practice reading. That sounded like the chicken and the egg question, so I just read rather than try to figure it out.

Though I think I had figured out which came first if you believed in creation the chicken came first if you believed in evolution the egg came first. I had absolutely no idea how it all worked.

Before dinner, Dad gave me the NDA’s he had picked up and the cash I had requested to pay Mr. Donaldson.

Dad jokingly asked, “As your business manager is there anything else I need to do.”

“Thanks, Dad, would you see Mr. Burke about starting a company for me, Jackson Engineering. And I will need to see a patent attorney soon, so could you see if Mr. Christensen will be available the Friday after Thanksgiving for a meeting. I will need a ride to that meeting. Also, Dad, be careful what you ask.”

He hit me on the shoulder hard enough to make me rock in my chair, but he was laughing when he did it, so I guess it was okay.

After dinner that evening Mr. Geist picked me up at my house and we drove down to the West Liberty First Baptist Church on old Ludlow Road. There were other Scout Masters there accompanied by Eagle Scouts. There was also our District Commissioner and the District Scout Executive. Everyone had their uniform on, I didn’t have one that fits, something else to take care of.

We went through the handshake thing. Since the other boys were wearing their Order of the Arrow sashes I knew they were Vigil level members, so gave the whole fist full of fingers secret handshake of the Society. They knew my name when I was introduced but didn’t make a big deal of it.

We came up with the usual list of scouting skills and demonstrations. Knot tying, log splitting, cooking contests. I had a bright idea.

“Why not invite a group of civil war reenactors and have them put on a fake battle. Then set up stations where each boy can fire a black powder rifle. Cannon fire would be a neat way to announce major events. A cavalry charge would be awesome.”

No one including the professional Scout Executive had ever heard of that being done at a Camporee so it went to the head of the list. Then the District Commissioner announced.

“Since this is Rick’s idea, I think he should present it to the Council.”

Everyone agreed. I wasn’t given a choice. Mr. Geist and the Commissioner talked it over and they decided the Commissioner would take me to the Council meeting tomorrow night. He would pick me up around 6:00 for the trip to Springfield to our Council Headquarters.

Notice how many choices I had in the matter? I went along with it, I had never been to a Council level meeting and was curious, and had nothing else planned. I also thought I had better start investigating civil war reenactors. I had read about them in the Columbus newspaper but didn’t know anyone that was involved.

I asked the group if they knew anyone. The Scout Executive, who was paid staff for the Scouts, said he would ask around. He knew an Ohio group had appeared in Springfield several years ago, so someone must know something.

When I got home that night the house was quiet, Doctor Costin’s car was there. Mary’s fever had got up to one hundred and four degrees. He had given her an antibiotic and Mum had her in the bathtub with cool water, trying to bring the fever down. The Doctor left as he had done all he could for now. Around eleven o’clock her fever broke. We all heaved a sigh of relief.

The boys and I went to bed because we still had school tomorrow. I was too tired to read.

Chapter 11

It was still cold and rainy, so no running today. It was almost cold enough to turn to snow.

Thursday my first stop was at the school shop to see Mr. Donaldson and pay him what I owed him. Dad had also managed to get the NDA’s from Mr. Burke, so I presented those.

He signed his and would have his brother sign the other at lunch today. He would have it for me after school along with the blueprints.

They had turned on the heat in the school. The boilers were rattling the radiators in our classroom. By lunchtime, the school would be so hot that teachers would be in danger of falling asleep standing in front of the class. We went through this every year.

The best thing to do when students are hot and sleepy is to give a snap quiz to wake them up. Every teacher in school seemed to work on that principle today. The students wailed in the halls between classes.

It didn’t bother me at all. I was ready for the tests. The teacher would allow us five to ten minutes for the exam. After they were collected, we were then allowed to work on our lessons.

This allowed me to keep ahead in each chapter. While we were doing this the teacher would stand by the open classroom door. The doors were open to help cool the room. In Miss Bales room she had to crack a window at the back of the room it was so hot. I noticed the teachers would congregate in the hall for a minute, talk and then return to their classroom to make certain we hadn’t stolen the furniture.

Of course, there was a lot of whispering and note passing. I kept out of that and just worked. Tom had told me I was getting a reputation as a ‘grind.’

No fun at all.

In study hall one of the reference books was really interesting. Since it was one that could be checked out, I did so, I wanted to read it. It was deeper than anything I had previously read, other than Plato’s Republic. That one still kept my head in knots thinking about it.

This one was on how a leader should run his country to keep his power. It had nothing to do with ethics or morality it was on the use of power. I don’t think I would be speed reading this one.

In Algebra after the test, Sue wanted to talk, I couldn’t avoid it. In a whisper, she wanted to know if I liked her.

“Sure I like you, I’m just not ready for a girlfriend.”

“What about that girl in Columbus?” she asked.

“Judy is a good friend, but we both agreed that with the distance it would make no sense to try to date.”

“Then you could have a girlfriend here.”

“Yes I could but I’m not going to.”

That ended that whispered conversation. I don’t think Sue liked me very much just then but I wasn’t ready for a girlfriend. I’m not even sure what that means, I like the hugging and kissing part, but not the being together all the time and letting her set the agenda. I had things to do. I hadn’t taken the time to go to the youth center or to Don’s for weeks. My life was too busy.

I thought about explaining all this to Sue but realized that she wouldn’t understand. Or worse yet she would say she understood until we started dating then try to change me. I had heard girls use the term, ‘work in progress’ about too many guys.

After school I went back to Mr. Donaldson’s office, he had the signed NDA from his brother and a cardboard tube with the blueprints rolled up inside. We pulled them out and went over them.

After reviewing the design we were both happy. His brother would machine the parts and then have them chromed at an electroplater in Urbana. They should have them done by the middle of next week.

It took longer than I thought. School had been out for forty-five minutes. As I left the main door to head home I noticed Steve Simmons standing across the street under a tree. It was still raining and cold so it must have been uncomfortable for him. I didn’t think too much of it at the time and headed home.

Mary was now at the whiny “I don’t feel good” stage. Poor kid ached all over. Mum tried every favorite food of Mary’s that she could, but she just wasn’t happy. From the looks of her, I wouldn’t have been happy either.

I just had time for dinner which was cheeseburgers. Yum! I was showing Dad the blueprints for the shower adaptor when the doorbell rang. It was my ride to Springfield.

Mr. Harris hadn’t met my Dad before, so they talked for a few minutes and then we left. It was a little strange, Mr. Harris was in uniform, and I wasn’t. I had never seen so many patches on a uniform.

He had three rows of square knots which are the adult scouter awards. They were different colors for different achievements. Some had little medal devices attached. I had no idea what they all meant. I thought it all made him look like a Christmas tree. Naturally, I didn’t say that.

I had to get down to J C Penny, the local distributor for scout uniforms and get a new one that fits. What I really hated was sewing all the patches on. Mum had revolted last year and taught me how to sew my own. Mum had iron-on patches for my jeans when I wore a hole through the knee. Maybe they could come up with iron-on patches for scouts.

We arrived at the Council headquarters on time. Others were pulling in as we arrived. The front part of the building was called the Scout Store. They sold all the scouting awards and patches for both Cub and Boy Scouts here. This is where scout leaders came to pick up their unit awards or badges, that or ordered them by mail.

I picked up a catalog from a stack on the desk it would be interesting to see what was in it that I couldn’t buy at J C Penny. Old James Cash kept a good stock, but I wondered what else there was.

We met in a large conference room at the side of the building. I had never been to anything like this. The table could seat sixteen people. The chairs were on swivels and were padded. They were the nicest office furniture I had ever seen. There must be some real money in scouting!

Again I was the only one not in uniform. I just thought our District Commissioner looked like a Christmas tree. I couldn’t count the patches on some of the uniforms. Many of the adults had military-style campaign hats. Like Smokey Bear and forest rangers wore.

Several of them had large metal first-class scout emblems pinned on the front. They were really neat looking. I wondered if I would be allowed to wear it as part of my uniform.

I asked my District Commissioner and he said that I could wear the hat, but that the emblem was not a recognized part of the uniform. The guys that wore them seemed to be high ranking.

They had coffee available, so I got a mug. The meeting started on time with the pledge, followed by the Lord’s Prayer. They had one of the uniformed boys lead the pledge. Apparently one of the men was a minster or priest because he led the prayer.

We were handed a formal agenda along with minutes from the previous meeting. One of the men was keeping minutes of this meeting. I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess men can be secretaries.

The first item was attendance, they did a rapid go-round of the room and each of us gave our name, position in scouting and where they were from.

“I’m Richard Jackson from Scout Troop 113, Bellefontaine.”

I noticed all the other kids made a point of stating that they were Eagle Scouts, even though we could all tell it because they were wearing the medal over their patch. Several of the adults looked up when I stated my name, but nothing was said.

At about an hour into the meeting, a break was declared. Donuts were set out so I headed right to them, along with everyone else. That and another mug of coffee helped. This was interesting, but it had been a long day. The actual event was going to be held at Camp Birch the local scout camp of Tecumseh Council right here in Springfield. It was over four hundred acres in size.

Most of the meeting was concerned with the logistics of having about four thousand youth and adult leaders at the camp for a three day weekend. Traffic control, first aid, fire safety, camp layout, sanitation, promotion, programs, and budget were just a few of the issues.

Chapter 12

I begin to see how a business might be run by breaking everything down into bite-size projects. The people present, except the boys, who were special guests, were the committee heads giving a report on where their committee stood on each item. There must be a hundred people working on this Camporee. I thought that one just showed up and pitched a tent!

During the break, I was approached by two gentlemen, a Bill O’Leary our Council Commissioner and David Stanton the Council Executive. Mr. O’Leary was the highest uniformed volunteer in our Council and Mr. Stanton the professional scouter that ran the Council.

After introducing themselves they told me that they were aware of my background, but more importantly the idea I had for the Camporee. They thought it was great.

Mr. O’Leary then called another gentleman over. He introduced me to Mr. Benjamin Tolson. He is Lieutenant Colonel Tolson of the 6th Ohio Voluntary Infantry (OVI), a civil war reenactment group that is headquartered in Dayton Ohio. Mr. Tolson was really excited about the possibilities.

Reenacting the civil war was a big thing right after the civil war. They had refought the battle of Gettysburg with the original soldiers up to the fiftieth anniversary in 1913. After that with the original soldiers dying the reenactments dropped off. There were still a few groups around, but they really needed new people. Mr. Tolson saw this as a chance to publicize his group.

He told me he was pretty certain they could provide a hundred soldiers for the Camporee. They would ask units from all of the states to participate. He even thought they could get enough Confederate units that they could have a mock battle. Cannons and a Cavalry charge were definite possibilities.

This would require them to set up their own camp within the Boy Scout reservation. This would be the biggest event they had since he joined. Why he might even be given a brevet rank of full colonel or brigadier general for the event. I could tell this man was excited and ready to go.

The meeting was called back to order. The Camporee events were next on the agenda. Each district gave their recommendations with a boy doing the presentation.

My district the Blue Jacket District was left until last. I think this was deliberate. My presentation was short and sweet. It was the same as I gave at the District meeting.

Mr. Stanton took the lead and explained that they had a telephone call earlier in the day about this idea and they had located Mr. Tolson who agreed to attend the meeting and share what was possible. It turned out a lot is possible.

Everyone was enthusiastic about the idea. That is until it was realized that Camp Birch with four hundred acres might not be large enough. That was a real problem until a local scouter said,

“Well you know Richard Smith owns nine hundred acres next to Birch. Maybe he would let us use it.”

Mr. Stanton apparently was used to making things happen because he left the meeting and came back five minutes later with a smile.

He announced, “Dick Smith has agreed to let us use two hundred acres next to the camp. He planned to leave these fallow this year so it is no problem. We just have to leave it as we found it.”

Not a hard demand to make of boy scouts.

What really surprised me was that the Council Commissioner suggested that I be part of the liaison with the 6th OVI. This was agreed to by those present without a vote. I was just appointed.

Again I had no choice, there was a pattern emerging here. I remembered Dad's words about two hours a month. But again it seemed like fun, so why not. The next meeting was in one month.

Mr. Tolson, or Colonel Tolson and I exchanged addresses and phone numbers. On the way home, Mr. Harris was excited about the fact the reenactors were going to be part of the Camporee. He was very interested in the patch which would be awarded the attendees.

As usual for a Camporee, there would be a patch design contest for the boys. His son was in scouts and would have an entry. I wondered whose entry it would really be.

Did I mention Mr. Harris was a graphic artist? It was really no big deal, the winner got a free pass to the Camporee and bragging rights.

Somehow it still didn’t sit right with me.

It was ten o’clock when we got home. Everyone was asleep, Mary was sleeping and I think my parents were taking the opportunity to get their rest.

I went to bed and read for a few minutes about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer but couldn’t keep my eyes open.

Friday was still miserable. I thought it might rain for the rest of the winter, except for when it snowed. I was probably done running until spring. Well, that wasn’t true. I was going out to California in the last week of January. Now that was a cheerful thought on this gloomy day.

A lethargic Mary was at the breakfast table pushing her food around. Mum was trying to coax her into eating it, but no luck. Mary looked the same, a mess of chickenpox. Many of the blisters had broken and should be scabbing over soon. Mary was on the mend whether or not she knew it.

Dad had confirmation that the patent lawyer Marvin Christensen in Columbus would see us on the Friday after Thanksgiving. He wasn’t thrilled about going into his office on that day but was new enough in his practice that he couldn’t turn down the work. He was charging one hundred dollars for his time.

As Mum put it, “He should do it and be bloody well happy about it.”

Mum could talk pretty rough at times.

School was quiet all day. All we actually did was learn stuff. How boring can you get? One noticeable lack was that Sue Barton wasn’t talking to me in Algebra. I missed having someone to talk to between classes but didn’t mind the rest from the chase, me being the chased.

I stopped down to see Mr. Donaldson for a few minutes to see if the parts were still on schedule. They were. When I walked out the front door there was Steve Simmons standing under the same tree as yesterday.

I walked over to him, “Hey Steve, kind of wet and cold to be standing out here.”

“I know, but I can’t figure anywhere else to wait.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“The mission doesn’t open its doors until five o’clock.” It was now four o’clock so he had another hour of this misery.

“I didn’t know you were staying at the mission.”

“Well, it’s not something you brag about. My Dad ran out on us and we couldn’t pay the rent so we had to go there. It’s just Mom and me. She works at Woolworths now so we will be able to rent a place after the first of the year. She is saving for deposits and furniture. We lost everything when that drunken bum hit the road.”

“So is that why you were always in detention?”

“Yeah, there are a couple of us who have no other choice. Heck’va note when acting up in school is the only way to keep dry and warm.”

“Man that’s tough, I hope things get better for you soon. In the meantime, you could walk down to the library.”

“Man I feel so stupid! I should have done that, it is even on the way to the mission. I’m going to let the members of the Lost know.” he replied.

I really thought about that on my way home. Dad was doing some paperwork at the kitchen table. This had become his office much to Mum’s dislike. I poured a cup of coffee and told him about Steve Simmons's predicament. Dad thought for a minute.

“You would like to help them wouldn’t you?”

“Yes I would Dad not in a public way, but could they be the tenant of the nice duplex you made an offer on.”

“Tell you what, I will ask around and see what sort of reputation his mother has. If it is good we can let them move in right away without a deposit. They will have to come up with furniture, but it sounds like they might be able to do that now. Since we have a line of credit now with the bank, we are going to close by next week.”

“Thanks, Dad, now there is one other thing.”

“What is that Rick?”

“I would like to see how much it would cost to reopen the detention program. According to Steve, there are other kids who need shelter.”

“Well it really is your money so why don’t you find out how much it will cost, then we can talk about it some more.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Mary had finished breaking out and almost all of her blisters had broken. She was getting her appetite back. Teddy was getting better also he didn’t have as many red spots. I mentioned that to Mum.

She laughed, “I will have to be careful when washing Mary’s sheets.”

That night I read some more of the “how to be a dictator” book. I begin to understand why they started calling the devil, “Old Nick.”

Chapter 13

Saturday the weather was good enough that I could run. Afterward, Mary was actually eating breakfast. She still wasn’t her normal bouncy self but she was doing better. Denny and Eddie were in with their Saturday morning cartoons. They would be there until lunch or they had a fight, then Mum would kick them outside to play.

Mum informed me I was babysitting tonight. She and Dad were going over to my Uncle Ross’s to play euchre.  I didn’t have any plans, so it wasn’t a big deal.

Dad and I spent the day with Uncle Jim using his truck to hall trash from the duplex to the dump, or the tip as Mum called it. We got one of the garages open and behind a wall of useless mattresses, we found a household full of wooden furniture.

There was a chest of drawers, bed frames, tables, and chairs. There was also a sofa but it had mice living in it so it went straight to the dump with the mattresses.

Dad told me, “Those would go real nice in the other unit we are buying. Rick, plan on cleaning and polishing all of this furniture on Sunday. After we close on the other unit we will haul this stuff over.”

“So you had a chance to ask about Mrs. Simmons?”

“After we talked I remembered who they are, Sharon Simmons really got a raw deal from that bum she married. She has always been known as a hard worker and honest as the day is long. I plan to let her Pastor know that we have an opening and that no deposit will be required plus the place is partially furnished.”

It was a long day, but that place looked a hundred times better with both units cleaned out. Tomorrow I would clean and polish the wooden furniture. Then we could open the other garage.

Mary fell asleep early. Denny, Eddie and I played a cutthroat game of Monopoly. That is they cut my throat. They got all the properties early and refused to trade with me. After I was out they packed the game away. They watched TV until ten o’clock and then went to bed without being told.

I read about how to play one power group against another and what you should do if you inherit a kingdom when young with regents vs. taking one by conquest. This guy invented realpolitik.

Sunday morning we were up early, it wasn’t raining, so I was able to get my run in. I ran up by the airbase. I noticed they had replaced the length of fencing that had been cut. The woods across the dirt road had been trimmed back at least another fifty feet. There were also new light poles up. It looked like they were going to keep the perimeter of the base lit up all night.

Mary was much better at breakfast. Her blisters had all scabbed over so she was no longer contagious. She was actually eating. She informed me that Teddy was getting better, but that it had been a close-run thing.

Was my little sister quoting Wellington?

Dad and I went over to the new rental unit. It took longer than I thought to wrestle the furniture out of the garage. Dad helped with that since it wasn’t raining, I could clean and polish outside. Of course, after pulling all of it out of there I found more junk that needed to go to the dump.

It took me almost until lunchtime to clean the furniture and empty the garage. I stacked everything that would go to the dump outside and moved the furniture back into the garage for now. After we closed on the other duplex next week, we would then move everything to the unoccupied unit.

I opened the other garage before breaking for lunch. There was a wall of empty boxes blocking any view of the interior of the garage. A strange sight was revealed after we took the boxes out.

The garage had an oil changing pit. Before hydraulic hoists to lift cars up, they would dig a pit, narrower than the distance between most tires. It would be about twice the length of the car and a depth of about six feet.

There would be steps at one end, in this case, the garage door end. You could then drive your car all the way into the garage, walk down the steps and be under the car to perform the service. I remembered one like that in Huntsville owned by Tubby Raymond. It was a nasty place because when you took off the oil plug you would have oil everywhere.

The one in Huntsville had a dirt-packed floor that was soaked with years of oil. It must have been a fire hazard. It had been around since the 1920s. The gas pumps had the little glass windows with the ball so you could see clean gasoline flowing when pumping.

This pit was different. I don’t think it had ever been used. The cement floor had no sign of oil being spilled. With the door fully open there was enough light in the pit that I was able to see well enough to go down the steps. When I got down the steps I could see shelves lining the pit. They were all empty.

At the far end of the pit, there was a stout wooden door. Not like a house door, more like a castle door. Strong iron-bound planks. The door was locked with the largest padlock I had ever seen.

I went and got Dad who was using a power sander on the wooden floors. We looked around but there was no key that we could find. It would take a crowbar to get that lock off.

We closed everything off and went home for lunch. We would be back later to force the door open.

At home, we had hotdogs for lunch. We told Mum about our find. We all wondered what might be behind that closed door. It had been hidden fairly well, who knew what treasure we might find there. Of course Mum decided she needed to be with us, Mary was well enough to go outside, and there was no way that Denny and Eddie would be left behind.

The Jackson family departed on its great treasure hunt, armed with a crowbar, hacksaw, and flashlights. We talked a mile a minute about what we would find. It only took five minutes to drive there.

Before trying to open the door every inch of the pit was examined, but there was nothing there. As before we wondered why it was never used unless it was a disguise for what was behind that door.

Finally, Dad tried the crowbar on the hasp of the lock. There was no way in the world that he would be able to pry it off. So the hacksaw came into play. He and I took turns for fifteen minutes cutting through the padlock.

It finally yielded. When we opened the door it was a great disappointment. There was an empty room. It was about nine feet by twelve feet. It was under the backyard of the house. The only clue of why it was there was an old broken crate. On the side was burned in ‘Seagram VO Canadian Whiskey’.

We were all disappointed. Dad concluded from the crate that this was a bootlegger hideout during prohibition. We searched the room thoroughly for any other secret compartments but found nothing. Looking on the bright side the garage didn’t need cleaning.

Dad decided that he would get a new padlock and keep this room for our use. It was clean and dry with no evidence of bugs or rodents. It would be a good storage unit.

On the way out Mary asked, “What is that?” as she pointed at the ceiling.

We had been so busy looking at the pit we never thought to look up.

Mary was pointing at a rope that hung from the ceiling. Most garages in Bellefontaine had open rafters that would be used for the storage of screens and screen doors during the winter. There was an actual solid roof over our heads. The rope that Mary was pointing to was a pull-down staircase.

Dad pulled it down and we went up. Again high hopes were dashed, there was nothing in sight. Eddie made the next discovery a small suitcase like those used in the 1930s was under the eaves.

I crawled in and pulled it out. It wasn’t locked, so I snapped it open. It didn’t have much in it, a newspaper article about a bank robbery in St. Mary’s Ohio on October 3, 1933, and a handwritten note that said, ‘The guard changed the dental records, you owe me five hundred dollars.’

The note wasn’t signed and there was no indication of who either party was. Mum and Dad felt like that were one of those mysteries that would never be solved. We gave up for the day and went home.

Mum didn’t feel like cooking so Dad went to Shively’s and bought pizza for dinner.

I continued reading the dictators manual. I did agree that when a country kept ready in peace it would stand well in adversity. Overall it sounded like a lot of work to be a successful dictator. The author was long on how but didn’t explain why one should bother in the first place. If you were born to it, I could see, but not to strive for the position. I wouldn’t want to end up hanging upside down from some street lamp post.

Chapter 14

Monday the weather was rainy. It was light enough that I ran anyway. I found that I missed it when I couldn’t get out. At breakfast, we talked about the “Pit” as we called it and the mystery of the suitcase.

Dad said he would inquire if there were any long term neighbors who would remember the residents of the 1930s. It was only thirty to thirty-five years ago. There might be someone still living that would remember.

The first thing I did when I got to school was to go to the office and ask for an appointment to see Mr. Gordon. When asked the subject I told the student working the desk that it was a private matter. That would get the rumor mill going!

Mr. Gordon walked in just then so Gail Innis, the senior working the front desk told him I was requesting an appointment on a private matter. He gestured for me to follow him.

We went into his office, where he removed his hat and coat placing them on a coat rack in the corner.

He got settled behind his desk. “Now what is this about Ricky are you having some sort of a problem?”

“No Sir, it is about the detention program?”

“What about it.”

“I would like to find out how much it would cost to start it back up.”

“It cost ten dollars a week, two dollars an hour for five hours. There are eighteen weeks left in the school year, so one hundred and eighty dollars. Why are you asking?”

“Are you aware there are some students who deliberately get detention because they have nowhere else to go?”

“I’m aware that has been known to happen.”

“It happens all the time. I have talked it over with my parents and we as a family would like to fund the program.”

Actually, I had just mentioned it to Dad, and he said to find out what it costs. This was so little money to us I knew he wouldn’t have a problem with me making a commitment.

“That is very generous, may I make a suggestion?”

“Certainly Sir,” I replied.

“Let’s call it detention and voluntary study time. Students could stay and study without the stigma of detention.”

“That would be good, what about the students actually having detention, they would say they are doing voluntary study.”

“Rick, we don’t mean for detention to be a Scarlet Letter just a time out to think about why they are there.”

First of all, I was glad I had read The Scarlet Letter so I knew the reference.

“I have never had detention so I didn’t know how it is supposed to work.”

“If your parents agree; would you bring a check and a letter, the letter explaining the donation is for the detention fund, and only the detention fund. I am afraid the current school board sees our budget as fungible.”

I must have looked confused at his statement.

“Fungible means that they accept funds for one purpose, but can transfer it at will and use it for another. An example would be a program with a budget for a given amount. If voluntary donations cover the amount they don’t have to come up with the money. They then move the money to where they would rather have it.

The voluntary donors never realize that their donation paid for the funding, rather than increased it. In this case, the funded amount is zero, so your donation if specified would have to stay with this program.”

“What would they want to use it for?”

“Let’s just say they are very interested in paving the school parking lot.”

The current lot was gravel covered and seemed to be just fine. Then it dawned on me, Mr. Stevens of Stevens General Construction and Paving was on the school board.

“Oh, I see, I think.”

“You probably do. This is a very good thing your family and you are doing. What would you like to see from this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well like an article in the Hi-Life the school newspaper, giving your family credit.”

“Oh no, we want this done anonymously.”

“Very well this is a bit of good news.”

And it is time for you to get to class young man.”

“Thanks, Mr. Gordon one more question. May I ask how big the school paddle really is?”

He grinned, “I like the seven-foot-long one with embedded nails.”

He then got up and opened a closet door. He pulled out a two and a half foot smooth paddle. It looked like it was made of oak and about a quarter-inch thick.

“I will trust your discretion,” he told me.

I couldn’t get into doing any schoolwork in study hall. But I had stuck the Boy Scout catalog in my three-ring notebook, so I looked at it.

I found out that they had several grades of uniforms. There were definitely more expensive uniform shirts and pants made from a better fabric that held its creases.

Since I was pretty certain that I had my growth, and only would be wearing the uniform for special occasions. My camping days once a month were over. I decided to order the better material. I thought about the campaign hat but decided against it.

While I was filling out the order form Mr. Hurley stopped at my desk. I thought I was in for it. We weren’t supposed to have magazines in school. He looked at the cover, nodded once and moved on.

When I got home the first thing I did was corner Mum and Dad and tell them about the commitment I had made about paying for detention. They both took it well. They thought it would be much more.

When I told them where all the “fungible” school money was going Dad about exploded.

“That Stevens is just short of being a thief! I will write a letter this evening.”

He asked Mum to write the school a check for the one hundred and eighty dollars.

Dad had an interesting day. He had talked to one of the neighbors who lived next to “The Pit”. She had lived in the same house for almost forty years. She moved there in 1920 with her new husband right after World War I. They were still married and in good health.

She remembered the police raiding the house one night. Why the bootleggers would think that digging a hole in the backyard to bury a secret room wouldn’t be known about in a small town was beyond her.

The Bellefontaine Police were honest or hadn’t been offered enough money. They waited until the first shipment arrived and staged a raid.

They caught the crew unloading the whiskey smuggled in from Canada, but the man who lived there took off in his car. He was a recluse when he first moved in, but later on, he was seen out and about. They thought he might have been recovering from some illness.

He never was really friendly so people left him alone. The kids in the neighborhood called him, “Three Fingers” because he was missing two fingers on his right hand. His name was Jack Hancock. At least that is what he told people.

When the raid was taking place out back Hancock ran out the front door and took off in his car. The Police chased him and he crashed into a power line pole.

The car was mangled and he died by electrocution. It was a horrible way to go. His screams could be heard, but no one could get near the car until the power company disconnected the power. I wondered what anyone could have done to deserve such a fate.

In spite of that grim story, we had fun in Spanish class. It was really neat having the teacher come to our house for the lesson. It was a noisy class as we spent all our time talking to each other. As long as it was in Spanish Mrs. Hernandez didn’t care what we talked about.

Tonight we had a tea party with Mary and Teddy completely in Spanish. Osito de peluche had also recovered from the measles. He didn’t fare as well as Mary. He had lost a few chunks of fur when his spots came off.

Later in my room, I started a new story. It was about a young man born in India, people thought he was an Indian but he wasn’t. He agreed to be a Lama’s guide on the Grand Trunk Road where they had several adventures.

It was strange the Russians were the enemies in the Great Game. Have Russians always been the enemy?

Chapter 15

It was still raining on Tuesday, but not as bad as yesterday. I ran again. My running shoes were still wet from yesterday. Even though I had dry socks on the wet started coming through. Once the socks were damp they started to chafe, so I cut my run in half to avoid blisters. Luckily I was doing a loop that took me by the house twice.

I would have to buy a second pair of shoes to give them time to dry out. It was about time I bought new ones anyway. My feet must still be growing because these are getting tight.

At school, I went straight to Mr. Gordon’s office. The student in charge of the front desk Gail Innis must have wondered what trouble I had got into. She let Mr. Gordon know I was there. She lingered at the door but Mr. Gordon asked me to close it behind me. I handed him the letter and check.

He read the letter and smiled, “I will be sending your parents a thank you letter, but I know you were the driving force behind this. You are growing up to be a fine person Ricky Jackson”

I left his office feeling ten feet tall.

During homeroom, the morning announcements were made. When it was announced that detention had been reinstituted along with an after school study hall which any student could attend at their discretion there were groans throughout the school. Unfortunately, I started laughing, laughing aloud.

Miss Bales came to my desk, “Since Mr. Jackson thinks detention is so funny he can spend two days there.”

She then wrote out a detention slip that I would have to have signed by the detention teacher and returned to her.

Life is not fair!

On the way to my first class, I ran into Gail Innis.

She stopped me, “That was a good thing your family has done. I had to get the check ready for deposit.”

I just held up my detention slip. She looked at it and started to get red in the face. She couldn’t hold it any longer she burst out laughing. She turned around and took off. I chased after her.

“Where are you going,” I asked as she kept moving.

“To tell Mr. Gordon he will love this.”

I stopped and gave up.

I remembered reading, “No good deed goes unpunished.” But so quick!

Before the school day was over the word was out. It was too good of a story not to share. I wasn’t even upset, I did see the irony.

I don’t know how many kids said, “Heard you got detention tonight Rick.”

Then the twerps would laugh.

It was all worth it when I entered the study hall after school to serve my time. Steve Simmons and several other boys and girls were sitting as a group. As I came into the room they burst into a round of applause. Even Mr. Hurley joined in.

I spent my time writing Judy a letter telling her how I got into detention. The more I wrote the better I felt. Yeah, I had taken a little grief but I felt really good about helping those kids out.

Then a reporter, Sam Clemens of the Hi-Life, caught me as I was leaving the building. Like everyone else in school he had heard that my family had paid for the detention program to be revitalized and that I was the first student to get nailed.

He wanted to know why we did it.

At this point, there was no reason not to so I shared the whole story with him leaving out Steve Simmons's name.  I asked him if he knew where the school board was directing the money they had diverted from the program.

He had no idea. I told him to read the proposed budget and see what capital improvements were there and who might benefit from them.

Sam promised me he would. I didn’t doubt him. Yes, his name is really Sam Clemens I don’t make stuff like that up.

When I got home and told my parents about my day they were in stitches. Dad thought it great that I had given Sam Clemens enough of a hint that he could figure out what was going on.

We made Thanksgiving decorations during our Spanish lessons. Using construction paper we cut out many-colored feathers for a turkey’s tail. Then we cut out fruit for a cornucopia. Mary got to paste the fruit in. I noticed she kept her fingers licked clean from the flour-based paste we were using to glue everything together.

As you may have guessed the younger kids set the direction of the lesson. It didn’t matter what we did as long as we practiced Spanish. Besides I am certain that someday I will need to be able to talk about a Mitología in Spanish maybe when ordering a basket of fruit.

The boys made headbands with feathers to be Indians. I made a pilgrims hat. It really looked neat. It is a shame that it fell apart when I put it on. My brothers and sister thought that was the funniest thing they had ever seen, brats.

We got to tell Mrs. Hernandez all about the pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving dinner. She referred to the Pilgrims as recién llegado which is a Spanish term for newcomers. Her ancestors had been in the Americas long before we showed up.

Mr. Tolson called. He wanted to let me know that they already had commitments from almost every unit in Ohio, New York, Pennsylvania, Indiana, and Michigan. Even two confederate units from Virginia were coming. There would be cannons for certain.

He was very excited. It appears there was a big blank in everyone's schedule, so the timing was perfect. He told me since he was in charge of the event he was brevet to brigadier general.

I asked him who did this.

“There is no real upper command of the reenactor movement, so tradition has it that whoever organizes the event is brevet to the highest rank of the real army for that size of a unit. If everyone showed up I would be a major general but that has never happened.”

Since you are my official liaison I am going to brevet you as a second lieutenant. That way you will be recognized by other units if you have to carry orders during the event.

“Will I have a uniform?”

“Yes, but you will have to buy it yourself, will that be a problem?” he asked, with a note of concern in his voice.

“No problem, where do you buy them, I have not seen them at J C Penney.”

“And you won’t. You will have to buy it from a sutler.”

I knew that a sutler from my reading was a civilian who followed an army and sold items that the army didn’t provide to the soldiers. This could be anything from soap to sewing kits. Apparently, modern sutler’s sold uniforms.

“Where would I find one?”

“There will be a winter encampment in Dayton just before Christmas. It is really the unit's Christmas party. There will be a sutler there that sells full uniforms. He will have or be able to mail you everything.”

“That sounds neat.”

“I will mail you the time and place with directions.”

“Thanks, Mr. Tolson.”

So now I am a Texas Ranger and an officer in a Civil War regiment. What next?

That night I read more about the Indian boy. He was now going to school in England and is prepared to play a part in the Great Game. He was going to be a spy for the British against the Russians in India and Afghanistan.

By Wednesday the weather had cleared up and I could run again. I had left my shoes by a heater vent overnight so they had dried out. Denny was excited at breakfast. Dad had informed him that he could join the men on the annual Thanksgiving Day hunt.

This was Dad and his brothers plus all my male cousins over thirteen. Dad had bought Denny a single shot twenty gauge shotgun for the event. Mum wouldn’t let him bring it to the table while we were eating.

When I came onto the school property one of the shyest freshmen girls I knew June Hardesty came up to me. When she got in front of me she just stood there for a moment staring at her feet.

“Yes, June?”

She almost shook herself to break free of her paralysis.

“The Sadie Hawkins dance is next week and...,” she tapered off. I had never given the dance a thought.

“June if you are asking me to go with you I would be delighted.”

“You will!”

Her smile lit her face as I had never seen before. An average girl became a beauty right before my eyes.

She continued, “I was so scared to ask you, but I was dared by my girlfriends and I told them I would do it. Then when I got to you I couldn’t talk, thank you so much, Rick.”

She then took off presumably to tell her friends.

I would have to catch up with her somewhere along the way and get the details. I had never been to one of these dances. I knew I wouldn’t have to marry her, but that was about it. Was it formal? I had better find out what I had got myself into.

As I went into the building I was approached separately by three different girls from the ‘in-group’ asking me to the dance. I was able to tell all of them I had a date. When they found out that meek little June Hardesty ‘The Mouse’ had beaten them to the punch it was a treat to see their faces. I was glad she was the one.

I checked in with Mr. Donaldson. He had the showerhead adaptors as I had asked. He also had shower heads from the six major manufacturers with the adaptor attached.

I owed him another hundred and ten dollars, but it looked like it would be well worth it. He had included a can of paste dope to seal the threads. He would keep them in his office and I could pick them up after school.

Chapter 16

In homeroom while waiting for the bell I was able to find out the dance is a week from Friday. A suit and tie for guys, dresses and high heels for the girls. As a twist since June had asked me she had to provide the transportation and purchase the tickets. She would pick me up and return me home. She would buy me a boutonniere. I could get used to this!

That reminded me I would have to work out transportation to the 6th OVI Christmas party in Dayton on a week from Saturday. I wasn’t certain how I would work that out.

Then it dawned on me I was going there to buy a uniform not to attend a party. I needed to find out what time the sutler would be there ready for business.

The bell rang to start classes. The day went on as school days do. Lunch was interesting. I saw June sitting at her usual table. While June was known as The Mouse there was a whole group of girls known as The Mice. Not individually just when they sat together. Well, The Mice were excited today and The Mouse was the center of attention.

Tom saw me looking and said, “The Mouse has belled the cat.”

“That’s the only thing I could think of to describe it. She got up the nerve to ask you out. That is the same as belling the cat to the other mice.”

“You know we won’t be able to call her The Mouse anymore,”

“Yes we can, she will be, The Mouse that Roared,” Tom came back with.

“Oh good one, you got it.”

As we finished lunch I decided to add a little fuel to the fire. I stopped over to the Mice table, Mouse table, Mice’s table? Anyway, I stopped by June’s table.

“What time do you plan to pick me up,” I asked.

The silence became deafening at that table. You would have thought it was the most important question ever asked.

June rose to the occasion. “The dance starts at seven, so I will pick you up at seven so we can be fashionably late.”

“What color of tie should I wear with my grey suit? I should match your dress.”

“Royal blue if you have it.”

“I will.”

Another thing to add to, my to-do list, buy a royal blue tie.

In study hall, I started researching a world history question at the back of the chapter that we would be covered in two weeks. It matched the story I was reading.

Why was there a struggle between Russia and England for control of Afghanistan? Afghanistan had nothing to recommend it, a rough mountainous country, with no known natural wealth.

I believed the answer was the Khyber Pass. The countries only value was that it was a gateway to India and control of Asia Minor. Control the Khyber Pass and you controlled land access between Asia Minor and Europe. England had control of the sea lanes.

Russia needed access through the land route. So it was a war of denial by the British and conquest by the Russians. It would also give Russia access to warm water ports. While they had ports on the north side of Russia they were frozen in for a good part of the year making regular trade impossible.

So the British Empire was trying to consolidate its hold on India, the Russian Empire was trying to expand to India. The only people who were profiting were the Afghans. The tribal warlords would fight for whoever was paying them the most while settling old feuds.

They were getting paid for attacking their enemies. Because of the terrain no one could take and hold the country. I think what Kipling had to say about being wounded on Afghans plains was correct.

Now all I had to do was find the citations and evidence to back up my thesis. This essay was promising to be the most in-depth one I had done to date. It was rich in material. I had been thinking to learn how to type. This pushed me over the edge.

It was too late in the school year to get into typing class and I think it may have been limited to girls only. At least I had never seen a guy in that classroom. I would have to learn by myself. I would ask Miss Wolcott the typing teacher for advice.

After school, my first stop was the typing room. I caught Miss Wolcott as she was getting ready to leave but she was kind enough to take a few minutes with me. If I could afford it she recommended that I buy an electric typewriter from IBM.

McGill's office supplies sold them and the same book as they used in class.

She told me, “The trick is to learn by muscle memory where the keys are. Then you will need to practice, practice, and practice until you reach your maximum typing speed without looking at the keyboard or making errors.”

I asked her, “Why does it sound easy when you say it, but I know it won’t be.”

She just laughed and went on her way. From behind it looked like a nice way.

I went to Mr. Donaldson’s office to pick up the shower adaptors. He offered to do more work for me anytime I needed it. I promised him that I would have his money on Monday first thing. He told me he knew I was good for it and good luck with the patent attorney.

When I got home one of the first things I did was install an adaptor to my shower head. It only took about ten minutes to remove the showerhead and place the adaptor in line. The paste dope sealed the joints perfectly. It was a little messy but really worked.

I took a shower just to try it out. It worked exactly like I hoped it would. I could direct a stream of water within the confines of the shower exactly where I wanted it and it would stay there.

After I got dressed again I brought Mum and Dad up to see the adaptor and how it worked. Well, I practically dragged them up to see it. They were duly impressed and said so. Mum wanted to know if this idea was really worth much.

“Mum I’m hoping to license the manufacture of them after I have applied for a patent. I am told I could get anywhere from ten to fifteen percent of the profit of the sale from each adaptor. If they are in line with other plumbing fixtures I have seen, then they will sell for two dollars apiece. The normal markup is one dollar. So I will get ten to fifteen cents for each one sold.”

“There are millions of showers that could use this. More important is the market for new showerheads. New homes are being built with combination bathtubs and showers like ours. If I can sell this I expect to make one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year until the design patent expires in twenty years.”

“Oh,” was all Mum said.

Mrs. Hernandez showed up for our daily Spanish lesson. Today Mary and I took on Denny and Eddie in a game of pool. Of course, we only could speak Spanish so it was, “Bola Ocho en la Esquina pocket,” by Eddie for the winning shot.

This was a great way to learn. I asked her if we would learn to read Spanish. She told me she was arranging for Cuban newspapers to be sent to her. We would use those.

Meanwhile, the house was beginning to smell wonderful. Mum was baking the pies for Thanksgiving dinner. Mrs. Hernandez asked us what those wonderful aromas were, in Spanish of course. When I told her what they were for she told us she may have to reconsider Thanksgiving.

She talked with Mum a bit as usual before leaving. She had never seen a turkey before. Mum was just getting ours out to thaw. It must have been an eighteen pounder. Cranberries were new to her also.

As they talked Mum realized the Wingers were going to Mrs. Winger’s mothers for dinner and hadn’t invited Mrs. Hernandez. Mrs. Hernandez would be alone on Thanksgiving.

Mum couldn’t let that stand and invited her. She accepted so quickly it seemed obvious she was hoping for an invitation. It would be neat to have a Spanish lesson over dinner.

I talked to Dad about a ride to Dayton the Saturday after this one. He wasn’t real thrilled. He asked if I had any friends who would drive me down for gas money. I told him I would check around, but remember my friends were mostly too young to drive. He told me that driving me around was getting to be a pain.

That I was to hurry up and get older so I had a license. I told him I would work on it every day. I know he was kidding, but he was kidding on the square.

That night I started a new story. This knight had to hold a castle for a year and a day before she would marry him. She then fled the scene disguised as a boy.

Chapter 17

Thanksgiving Day opened with a light covering of snow. The runner in me didn’t like it. The hunter loved it. We would be able to see rabbit and pheasant tracks, and if we were really lucky a fox. I did my indoor exercise, cleaned up and got dressed for a morning outside.

The house had wonderful aromas. Mum had been up since four o’clock to get the turkey in the oven. Dad and Denny were already up and good to go. Dad had scrambled eggs and bacon along with hash browns on the stove.

The only change to this annual ritual was that I now automatically had coffee with my breakfast. Denny kept going over to the corner where our shotguns were. You could tell he wanted to load his and go hunting.

Instead, we ate breakfast then cleaned our guns. Dad insisted on this. We didn’t go out regularly like we used to so it had been months since they had been fired. He wanted to know they were clean and in good working order before he would allow them in the field.

Finally, it was time to go. Dad and I put on our yellow hunting jackets with the game pockets and loops for shotgun shells. Our licenses were pinned to the back. Denny put on his old ratty outdoor play coat.

Mum stopped him, “What do you think you are doing boyo? Why aren’t you wearing your new coat?”

This stopped Denny in his tracks, “My new coat?”

Mum brought out from behind her a brand new yellow hunting coat.

“You should wear this one, it already has your hunting license on it,” she told him as she turned the stiff canvas jacket around to present his license.

You would have thought it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one. Certainly, I hadn’t acted like that when I got mine. I thought back. Oh, I was worse. At least he isn’t jumping up and down.

So ready at last the mighty hunters loaded in the car. We drove up to the field we had permission to hunt. We were the last to arrive. My four uncles and seven cousins were already there. We cousins were all within three years of each other but I was the only one that went to BHS.

Uncle Ross’s kids went to West Liberty and Wally’s to Lakeview. Uncle’s Jim and Gene only had daughters. That would be fourteen out in the field. This could be a problem unless we made a line and beat the field. There were over nine hundred acres so we were able to do that.

I made a mental note not to worry about hunting that day. I would keep an eye on everyone to make sure we all stayed in line. I mentioned that to Dad and he just nodded. To be safe I didn’t even load my Remington shotgun. It’s a 1954 model 870 12 gauge pump action called the Wingmaster.

The field we are hunting is right next to the airbase. It is on the far side of where the break-in occurred. Uncle Wally started telling everyone that he heard there was a break-in and that we almost went to war with the Russians.

Dad asked him how he knew this. Wally told us that he had been drinking down at the 151 Club on Main Street and heard a couple of Airmen talking about it.

“Wally do you mean to tell me that you believed two drunken Airmen when they told you some two-bit hood had broken into the base and it almost caused World War III,” my Dad asked?

Now, Dad's opinion carried a lot of weight with his brothers so Wally started to hem and haw. Dad let it go. He had raised doubt in everyone’s mind. Dad turned and winked at me.

Dad announced, “Let’s get this hunt going. Rick is going to be safety officer because there are so many of us. His shotgun isn’t loaded. When Rick tells you that you are out of the line, move up or drop back. When we climb a fence he will watch you unload your shotgun before climbing. Got it?”

Everyone indicated they understood the rules of the hunt. I managed to get close enough to Uncle Wally to know that he didn’t reek of booze. Guns and alcohol don’t mix. Everyone in the family tried to work with Wally, but he was determined to go his own way. There could be no good end, but it is his life.

We started across the field. It was short hay stubble left from the harvest.

We weren’t fifty yards in when I was yelling, “Ross Junior, move up.”

Next, it was, “Jimmy slow down.”

Each looked up and got back into line. The second time junior fell behind you could hear his Dad Ross Senior chewing on him.

“Wake up and stay in line or go wait in the car,” he was told.

Junior stayed in line after that. There could be no bigger disgrace than to be sent to the car on hunting day. We got to the end of that field without kicking up any game. Heck, we had made so much noise that the game in Union County, the next county over had probably gone to cover.

At the end of the field was a fence. We had to climb over it without breaking it down. Break a farm fence and you would lose your hunting privileges real quick no matter what friend or relation you were. We decided to climb over at the corner post of the field that was the strongest portion of the fence.

I stood at the corner and watched as each hunter came up and ejected his shells. They then showed me the action had been cleared. At that point, I would gesture and they would set their shotgun over the fence at the next post down.

If they fell when they were going over the fence they wouldn’t knock over a loaded shotgun and kill themselves. This is a more common hunting accident.

Somehow we made it without anything serious. My cousin Mark did get hung up on the barbed wire but only tore his coat. I think we all had done it at one time or another. I know my coat had several patches. I did have to remind Jimmy that we didn’t retrieve our shotguns until we were all over the fence.

Once all were over shotguns retrieved and reloaded the line was reformed and we started out. I didn’t realize that rabbits could go deaf. That was the only reason I could think that the two that were kicked up were still around.

As rabbits will do they had frozen into position until a hunter got too close. Then they would run. We called that kicked up. They were in the center of the line.

The rabbits didn’t think it was funny, but they got hit by about five shotgun blasts at once. They would have so many pellets in them they wouldn’t be edible.  Of course, this started a big argument over whose shot it should have been.

I thought Uncles Gene and Ross were going to face off but believe it or not Wally stepped in as a peacemaker. By this time my feet were like frozen blocks of ice, so I really didn’t care if they duked it out. The two rabbits were left for a fox’s dinner or whatever got there first.

We crossed into the next field successfully after going through the unloading, stack the guns, load and line up procedure. This one had a new obstacle. A small stream had to be crossed. It was iced over but we didn’t think it would hold our weight.

So we found a narrow portion with a sandbar. Each gun was again unloaded. I jumped across first while Dad held my shotgun. He then handed me mine and then his. He jumped across and the rest followed in like manner.

That is until cousin Mark jumped, he didn’t make it. Our thoughts on the ice thickness were correct as he crashed through into knee-deep water. Now we had a wet hunter on our hands. There was nothing to do but get him back to the car. There was talk of some continuing on, but finally, everyone gave up.

We got back to the cars after going through the unloading, fence climbing loading procedure three more times on the way back. You never know there might be more deaf rabbits around.

There weren’t and about everyone had even given up looking, I know that only one person bothered to reload his shotgun after we climbed the last fence.

Denny was on his first hunt and was not about to give up. I was on the far right of our line, except it now looked more like a bunch. Anyway, Denny was on my left, then Dad then, the herd. So Denny was perfectly correct when a pheasant came up right in front of him. It flew straight away rather than an angle that they normally did.

This gave Denny a straight-on shot with a little rise to it. Denny rose to the occasion. He smoothly pulled his gun into position and fired his twenty gauge shotgun.

He brought the bird down cleanly. Dad field dressed the bird showing Denny how to do it. He also smeared a little of the blood on Denny’s forehead telling him he was now a blooded hunter. All our Uncles and Cousins congratulated him.

We got back to the vehicles with no further problems. Of course, Wally was passing around a quart of bourbon. When it came to me I pretended to take a sip but that was it. Hands were shaken all around. The hunt was declared a success and one of the better ones in the Jackson annuals. If that’s so it’s a wonder our family survived the hunter-gatherer stage.

I mentioned this to Dad he laughed, “Ricky if I was hunting for the table I would go by myself. When was the last time you were together with all your uncles and cousins?”

That was easy, “Last Thanksgiving.”

“Rick this is all about reminding ourselves who our family is. We need these events where we get together, we used to gather as a family almost every weekend, and we would play cards and spend time together.”

“Now we don’t, I blame it on TV, our families are drifting apart. I think it will only get worse. Now it is cousins, later it will be brother and sister. This sort of getting together is one of the few things we still do. That is why it was a success. It had nothing to do with hunting.”

I thought about it on the way home. I don’t know if the influence of TV would ever be as great as Dad thought, but I wouldn’t let it separate me from my brothers and sister.

When we got home the story of Denny’s pheasant got told and retold. The bird flew higher, faster and further with every telling. You could tell Eddie was a little upset that he couldn’t go with us. His turn would be in two years. We didn’t talk about the shot up rabbits around Mary.

By the time we got cleaned up, it was time for dinner. Mrs. Hernandez was there when we arrived. She and Mum were busy in the kitchen. Mary was helping Eddie set the table. Mary was directing him and telling him that he should be out hunting and leaving women’s work for the women.

Talk about salt in the wound.

I pitched in and helped them finish up while informing Miss Smarty Britches that men could help around the house and she could do the hunting for us. She liked that idea.

What have I started?

Dinner was turkey with all the fixings. The table had yams, mashed potatoes, and gravy. An oyster dressing that was to die for. There were also cranberries, freshly baked rolls with homemade strawberry jam and fresh butter, and salad. Mum had made pumpkin pie along with fresh whipped cream for later.

We ate until we felt like bursting. The whole time we learned new Spanish words for the food and tableware. Mum and Dad got into it. Mrs. Hernandez loved Mum’s English Cuban Spanish accent.

With stuffed stomachs, we watched the NFL football game on TV. It was, as usual, the Green Bay Packers against the Detroit Lions. This was the seventh time in a row that they had played each other on TV.

The Packers had only won one out of six so we just wanted to see how bad The Lions would beat them. It ended up with a Detroit win 24 to Green Bay 14.

I took a long walk in the evening. There wasn’t any way that I would try to run with that much food in me.

Later I read more on the Scottish castle. Now we had noblewomen disguised as nuns.

Chapter 18

Friday I was up and running now that yesterday’s dinner was settled down. While cold it was clear and sunny and would be a nice day for a drive to Columbus. I paid particular attention to the civil war memorial in the center of route 33 in New California but I couldn’t figure out what units those men served in.

Marvin Christenson was in his office at the Lincoln-Leveque Tower in Columbus on the fifteenth floor when we arrived. He was very welcoming and showed no resentment for having to come in the day after Thanksgiving. He looked to be about thirty years old, slight of build red hair and freckles. He looked very open and trustworthy. Handy attributes for a lawyer.

I had brought everything I had with me. He examined everything and asked a few questions. Then he explained what was needed. First, there would be a patent search. If nothing was found then we could file a Document Disclosure form which would serve as evidence of discovery. It would be for a utility patent rather than a design patent. Utility was for function, design for ornamentation.

There would have to be an Abstract of less than one hundred and fifty words describing the invention. Plus Drawings, detailed specifications, a data-sheet describing completely the intended function, an executed Oath or Declaration that I was the inventor.

The necessary fees all accompanied by a transmittal sheet that described everything in the package submitted. Then a self-addressed stamped postcard that listed down to individual page numbers of everything in the package submitted to the Patent Office. This would be cross-checked upon arrival at the PO and sent back with the arrival date and application number.

The drawings would only be accepted in India ink on a white background. Mr. Christenson was licensed to practice in front of the Patent Office and could handle everything we needed. It was simple to get started, all I had to do was hand him a check for five hundred dollars and be prepared to spend at least another one thousand.

Dad wrote the check out from Jackson Engineering on their checking account. He had set up a company as I had requested including opening a checking account. He and I signed contracts with Mr. Christenson and gave him our power of attorney to act on our behalf for this matter. It took about two hours to go through everything.

He estimated that it would take from six months to one year to obtain a patent. Once we had the postcard back from the patent office we could claim patent applied for. This would give me enough prior claim to share the device with others. That could be as short as one month depending on how the patent search went. The search would be performed by a specialist that Mr. Christenson would hire in Washington, D.C.

As he explained, “Patents can be cheap, fast or quality. You can have any two, take your pick.”

As we were finished earlier than we thought we decided to go around the corner several blocks to the main Lazarus store. I was there to buy the clothes and shoes, both street and running that I had been putting off. After spending one hundred and seventy dollars I was the well- dressed young man again.

Among other items, I had picked up a solid royal blue tie. The fashions were changing it was wider than those I had bought a year ago. Other than that I needed new cowboy boots, but they would wait till I was out in California. My hats still fit.

When I was buying my shoes they examined my feet with an x-ray machine. I would put my foot in it with my shoes on and we could see how they fit. It was neat. Dad wondered about all the x-rays, but I told him not to worry, this was the wave of the future.

While leaving the store we saw a section with typewriters. They had the IBM Model B in stock. Its price was reduced by twenty-five percent to forty-five dollars. The salesman told us that IBM was bringing the Model C out in January so they were trying to clear their inventory.

They also had the same book the typing class used in school so I bought that and a machine. Of course, I then needed spare ribbons, carbon paper, typing paper, and eraser sticks. I ended up spending as much as the original cost of the typewriter.

The salesman arranged for all of our packages to be taken down to the will-call desk. This was a door in the parking garage where you could pick up your packages. You drove right up, opened your trunk and they brought it right to you.

On the way out of town, we saw something really neat. At every street corner were three policemen. They were all wearing white gloves. All the traffic lights in the main intersections downtown in front of the statehouse were turned off. The cops in their white gloves were directing traffic.

Dad who had lived in Columbus for a while when he was a kid explained that this was part of their police academy training. One of the policemen was their trainer. They all had whistles and were blowing them like crazy. It was fun to watch.

The trip home was uneventful. Dad managed to get through Dublin without a speeding ticket. That city had a reputation as a speed trap since the 1920s. Dad swears it was because they were jealous of Columbus is the state capital. Way back when the cities were in competition for being the capital. Dublin was apparently a sore loser. I had the funny picture of horse and buggies being pulled over for speeding.

When we got home I had to show off all my purchases to Mum. I noticed that Denny was paying close attention to the clothes I had bought. My little brother was growing up. I would have to get him some nice clothes for Christmas rather than toys.

Eddie was definitely still at the toy stage. Mary actually liked clothes. She had picked out of the J C Penny catalog a matching mother-daughter outfit she wanted for her and Mum.

In bed, I finished up the story about the castle. The guy didn’t end up holding it for a year and a day or get the girl. The English got creamed at the last battle in the book but won in the long run. It did give me an idea who the Black and Red Douglas’s were.

Saturday was a wonderfully quiet day for me. I actually stayed in bed until eight o’clock which was unheard of for the last several months. After my morning exercises, breakfast and helping Mum with the dishes I made my way downtown. Helping Mum with dishes was her idea, not mine.

I browsed DeLongs but didn’t find any records I wanted. I did run into Eleanor Price and some of her friends. They all teased me about being the first one to get detention after paying for the program. They were complimentary about our family sponsoring the entire program. They hadn’t realized some kids had nowhere to go.

They also told me that there were questions raised with Mr. Stevens at the last school board meeting about money being redirected in the budget. The budget is now being reconsidered with monies being returned to their original purpose.

This made me wonder since the detention program was now funded where would the money go? I then realized it wasn’t enough to get excited about.

I went to Don’s for lunch. Tom and Tracy were there so I joined them for an hour. We had lunch and I got to catch up on the school gossip. It appears I had unleashed a group of monsters. The mice had come out of their shyness with a vengeance. Every member of the group had a date for the Sadie Hawkins dance.

Some of the more popular girls at school had assumed that the boys would wait on them to be asked. They found out differently. Now those girls were asking some of the less popular boys for dates so they could go to the dance. The entire social order was in disarray. Apparently, it was my entire fault.

Someone had been quoted as saying I must be a communist because of my paying for detention and upsetting the dating order. That was the same as having concentration camps and forced socialism. I didn’t think that anonymous person was getting good grades in history or social studies.

I went home to find my typewriter was in heavy use. It was set up in the basement. Denny and Eddie had been practicing typing. I thought it would be a mess when I heard the keys pounding downstairs. They had the typing lesson book out and we're really learning how to place their hands and type. I told them they were welcome to do that when I didn’t need it, just be sure to put the dust cover over it when they were done.

They promised. It would be interesting to see how it worked out. Mary hadn’t shown interest yet.

I received a phone call from Columbus, Don Thompson called to give me an update on the work he and Paul Samson were doing on the hairdryer project.

It sounded like they were making good progress and might have drawings in my hand right after the first of the year. The bill of materials would take longer as they were identifying exactly which components could be purchased and which fabricated.

They also had spoken to a plastic molding company in Worthington, Ohio a suburb of Columbus. They were recommending that I have them sign an NDA and provide quotes on prototype molds for the hairdryer housing. This could be done by mail. I told them I would get the NDA’s to them, and they could talk to the company.

Since they were now going beyond the original agreement I asked what a fair amount would be for them doing this.

Don told me, “Another one hundred each would keep them motivated plus a hairdryer for each of their wives to try out when they were ready.”

It was easy to agree to those terms.

I went to the garage and updated my notebook. I also talked to Mum and Dad. She would write the checks and Dad would get the NDA’s from our attorney.

We then watched Dick Clarks American Bandstand, after that Perry Como, The Gale Storm Show, Have Gun will Travel and my parents ended up with Gunsmoke.

I leafed through one of the Hardy Boy mystery’s just to have something to read.

Sunday Dad and I hauled the furniture I had cleaned out from the garage next to the pit to the unoccupied side of the other duplex. This is where the Simmons would live.

That took most of the day and we were pooped. We watched Maverick followed by the last half of Ed Sullivan, then Mum and Dad watched the General Electric Theater. Dad liked the way the host presented himself and thought he should go into politics.

I started an adventure series about a professional hunter in Africa. The way he was described he wasn’t very nice looking but he was a deadly shot.

Chapter 19

It was an overcast, cold windy day, though unpleasant it was better than a dark and stormy night. After running I was definitely awake. When I got dressed I noticed that my new shirt really fit better.

I weighed myself and came in at two hundred and ten pounds. My height was still six foot four inches. I hope I had stopped growing up. Size-wise I was as big as or bigger than the seniors at school. I made the rest of the ninth grade look like midgets.

I was very fortunate. Most kids that grew to my size were very awkward during their growth period. That happened to me in my first growth spurt, but not this time around. I hadn’t lost my coordination while growing. I wonder if all the exercising I was doing had helped.

Mum had the radio tuned to WOHP listening to the local news while we had breakfast. The announcer came on with some very bad local news. Last night on the Mad River Road a car careened out of control. Two local teenagers were killed. They were Steve Hamilton and Bill Cairns. It is suspected that alcohol played a role.

That was a terrible shock. We quietly finished breakfast. School was going to be pretty grim today. Tom was waiting for me as I came out of the door.

“Did you hear,” were the first words out of his mouth.

He looked extremely upset.

“I just heard it on the radio.”

“It’s my fault!”

“How come it’s your fault?”

“I saw Bill sneak out of his window last night, and didn’t tell anyone.”

“How does that make it your fault? By the time you could have told someone he was gone.”

That stopped Tom. He let out a large sigh.

“I guess you’re right, and if I had tried to stop him, it wouldn’t have worked.”

“I thought Bill was being sent to a Military Academy.”

“His parents let him talk them out of it. They were trying to work out a deal with the County Prosecutor. Since they are related he wasn’t forcing the issue.”

We had walked to Eleanor Prices' house by that point in the conversation. I had seen very little of Eleanor recently. She came out as we arrived at her house. It was obvious she had been crying. Being guys we knew exactly what to do, we ignored it.

“Good morning Eleanor I guess you’ve heard.”

“Yes, I have.”

“It is a real shame. They had their problems but didn’t deserve that.”

“No, they didn’t. I just started dating Steve. I thought he was turning himself around. I was wrong.”

“I’m sorry Eleanor.”

“Well as my Mother told me, Life must go on. I’m really not looking forward to this day, but it must be done.”

We silently walked to school. We were young teenagers, we weren’t supposed to die, and we’re immortal. I knew better than that. I had dealt death, to two men. It just didn’t seem fair for these two young men to die. The ones I had shot were hardened criminals, murderers even. These were just two guys out on a lark.

It was hard to believe they were gone. I knew they would be at the school door laughing about the trick played on the town. They weren’t at the door.

Eleanor was met at the door by a group of girls, her friends I guessed. They converged on her and the wails started. Tom and I kept moving. I understood now what Eleanor meant by having to get through the day.

Something else dawned on me. Eleanor would have to get through this raw grief. There were parents, brothers, sisters, grandparents and the rest of their families. They would all have to get through the day.

The only ones with no problems were dead and gone. They just had to lay there and start to rot. For some reason, this made me incredibly angry.

Homeroom, as expected, was buzzing with rumor. There were three people in the car, no four. Someone said he heard five others were involved. By lunch, it would be like those clown cars in the circus.

Mr. Gordon came on loudspeaker with the school announcements. He relayed Steve and Bill's demise. He ended with the statement.

“This is why we urge you not to drink, this is especially why we urge young inexperienced drivers not to drink and drive. I’m sorry that this point has been made in such a tragic way. There will be no classes on Thursday. Most of the school will want to go to the funeral home to pay their respects.”

At lunch, one fact came out. When the police searched the car they found the bag the beer was in, it had a receipt in it from a carryout located on the curve just going out of Bellefontaine to the west on route 33. It had no signs, other than, “Carryout” so we didn’t know its name.

Every kid in school knew that is where you go to buy beer when underage. The place had been in business for at least twenty years. Now the police had arrested the owner and locked the doors.

The County Prosecutor Tom Patterson had already announced that their liquor license would be revoked. Way to go Mr. Patterson.  Really saved your nephew didn’t it?

Of course, there were all sorts of gruesome descriptions of how they died. They hit a tree head-on at eighty miles an hour and went into the windshield so it was quick.

At lunch, it was noticeable how the different age groups were reacting. The older you were the quieter you were. Some of the freshmen in the cafeteria were making loud crashing noises and making jokes. I thought they were acting like little kids. It didn’t seem possible that I was their age. Today I felt tired and old.

I wrote Judy a letter but it was so morose that I tore it up. She didn’t need my gloomy thoughts.

I overheard Mr. Hurley say to Miss Bales, “It’s a shame we have to go through this every three to four years. One group learns, and then another has to do it all over.”

She replied, “I have been teaching for twenty years, this is my fourth time. It’s such a waste but you can never tell them.”

“Cora at least they will be quiet for a week or so. We can get some teaching done”

“Unfortunately Myron you’re correct.”

I don’t think I could take it, knowing that I would see the same cycle of young deaths over and over. And who would have thought she was Cora, and he was a Myron.

I was so glad when the school day was done. I think that was the longest day I had ever spent. Mum had a snack ready when I got home. It is a wonder what Oreo cookies will do for your mood. I asked her if she would order my scout uniforms. I had filled out the order form and addressed an envelope, so all she had to do was write a check.

We still had a Spanish lesson. Denny and Eddie both knew about the deaths but said nothing. Mary didn’t need to hear any of this. So we played Monopoly in Spanish. Mrs. Hernandez and Mary teamed up early then landed on Boardwalk and Park Place. We never had a chance.

After dinner, I played with my typewriter but my heart wasn’t in it.

I didn’t feel like reading tonight.

Chapter 20

The next morning Tom and I walked to school together. He had calmed down about yesterday. He had thought it through and short of physically attacking Bill, he couldn’t have stopped him.

He probably couldn’t have even done that because Bill would have been in Tom’s car and gone by the time he got outside. He was able to reconcile that he had no way to stop the tragedy or even know it was coming.

We didn’t see Eleanor on the way to school. I hoped she was alright.

In homeroom it was announced again there would be no school on Thursday. Steve Hamilton’s viewing would be at Kennedy Funeral Home and Bill’s at Eicholtzs.   They were only a few blocks apart on Main Street, so I would walk from one to the other.

While the school atmosphere was still on the somber side it wasn’t as shocked as yesterday. Some of Steves and Bill's better friends were wearing black armbands. I wondered where they came from. It wasn’t anything you could buy at J C Penny.

I soon found out when I saw a freshman with a box of black armbands, selling them for ten cents each. I appreciated the sentiment but was repelled by the commercialism. It takes all types I guess. I didn’t buy one.

Classes went on as normal. I did hear a lot of kids planning for their day off on Thursday. The funeral homes would only take a little while. I heard Delong’s Record Music shop for records, Don’s for hamburgers and The Holland Theater for a matinee for Elvis’s new movie, “King Creole.”

Actually, Don’s and the movie sounded good. Maybe a stop at Buchenroths, Huber or Wolfeins to see if I could find some more new shirts that fit me. This growth was an expensive business.

At least Sue Barton would speak to me again before Algebra. We didn’t have anything specific to say. We talked about what there was to do on Thursday, but no hint of doing it together. That suited me just fine.

The more of this boyfriend, girlfriend stuff I saw the more it scared me. The progression was scary. First casual dates, then official friends, then going steady which as far as I could see was a practice engagement; next the real engagement then a wedding.

I’m only fifteen for goodness sake. I think casual dates with a little bit of necking will do me for now. Well maybe a lot of necking, but nothing serious. Well maybe a little more fun stuff, but nothing serious about it. Heck, I don’t know! I’m only fifteen.

I also had one of my many letters from Judy. This one got to the point very quickly. She had met this boy. They were dating, more than occasionally, but not going steady yet. She wanted me to know. She would still like to write as pen pals, but that was it. I had to think about that for a while.

I came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter. We never could go on dates, only write so we already penned pals. That sounded good, but for some reason, it still hurt. Only earlier today I was thinking I didn’t want a girlfriend. I was now getting what I wanted and I didn’t like it. Things can be so confusing.

Spanish was fun as usual. Mrs. Hernandez had brought newspapers from Cuba. Actually, a friend in Miami had bought them at a local newsstand and mailed them to her. We would take turns trying to read an article she had selected.

Halfway through the lesson, I realized that Mary would be reading Spanish before she learned to read English!

I worked harder with the typewriter at the keying lessons. I was getting better at striking the right keys without having to look, but I had a long way to go.

I started a new book set during Elizabeth the First's reign. It involved Sir Francis Drake and the Spanish Main. A young man’s adventures at sea surely would take my mind off of the sad events of the week. I hoped that Amyas would end up with the lovely Rose.

The middle of the week and the weather was clear and cold. I ran but regretted it as it hurt my lungs to take in the cold air. Today I enjoyed the porridge. It was warm and filling.

Tom and I walked down the hill to school. We didn’t have much to say. The mood of the school was fun. It was somber. There were at least twice as many black armbands today as yesterday. It was exciting. There was an unplanned day off from school. Better than a snow day because you could get around.

Yesterday there were red eyes all over the school. Today there were few in sight. Eleanor was one of those. I felt bad for her, but there was nothing I could do.

These were somber and exciting feelings that you thought you could sense. There was one item that was very real. A social revolution had hit our school.

All those girls that knew their place at the bottom of the social order had the nerve to get dates to the Sadie Hawkins dance!

It didn’t matter to the top of the order, but those girls further on down the ladder now had a choice. Ask some boy they wouldn’t have been seen with normally, or stay home.

I didn’t see it, but supposedly there was one hair-pulling match in the gym. I found that hard to believe. Girls wouldn’t act that way.

I saw June Hardesty in the hall. I had time to tell her that I had bought a royal blue tie.

She gave me a smile and said, “Good.”

That was her only reaction. I don’t know if there will be a relationship or not, but I’m not getting the best feelings about it.

After school lessons were taking more of my time than school lessons. I was still getting all my school work done on school time. After school was out I would hurry home and look up the words I had written down yesterday.

These were new Spanish words that had been used for the first time. I would then confirm its meaning in my Spanish to English dictionary that Mrs. Hernandez had provided.

I would then write it out ten times so I got used to its spelling while pronouncing it out loud. The other kids were just learning the words by rote memory, but I wanted to actually be able to read and write in Spanish.

We then would have our lesson, mostly from the newspapers this week. The comics were kind of strange. What the Cubans thought funny didn’t always make sense. I would write down any new words then use them in my typing lesson.

The typing text had me repeating keystrokes over and over which I did, but then I would also type out my list of new words to look up later. I would read my handwritten list and type without looking at the keyboard. I was very slow and would hit the wrong key, but felt like I was getting a little better.

I finished up my story set in the Elizabethan times. I was really disappointed. Amyas did get wealth, fame and married a beautiful Indian princess. Unfortunately, he was blinded by a lightning strike at sea. Also Rose his first love was burnt to death by the Spanish Inquisition. That ending didn’t make me feel any better.

The truth is that I started skimming the book at the end when it started getting dismal.

Chapter 21

I was able to run on Thursday morning. I was glad to do so. Today wouldn’t be a fun day and the better frame of mind I was in to start it off the easier it would go. Mum asked me when I was going to the funeral parlors. I replied the sooner the better. She and Dad were going around eleven o’clock.

They had some business to discuss. It was about time for Jackson Housing to open an office downtown. The third unit had just been acquired and three more were under negotiation.

Dad was now being approached by owners who wanted to make a private sale to avoid the realtor fees. Our attorney was versed in real estate, so that wasn’t a problem.

An office downtown made sense. The tenants would have a place to call or go if there were problems rather than our house. They could pay their rent there. Dad would get all of his business paperwork out of the house.

Furthermore as Mum said, “It will get your Dad out of the house.”

I think he had been home more than usual lately.

There was an office unit available on Main Street across from the courthouse. It was in the same block as J C Penny. The nice thing was that while it was not really wide it was deep. It went clear back to the alley, so they could store painting equipment and other items to maintain the houses in the backroom.

My parents were informing me of what they had decided, not asking for my permission. They did think I should see it, so I agreed to meet them there at eleven-thirty.

The viewings were not as bad as I thought they would be. Both caskets were closed which meant the boys were torn up pretty bad. All we had to do was go in, sign the book and file past the coffins. There were flowers everywhere and the scent was sickening to me.

After slowly passing the coffin on its pedestal I went over to the parents. In both cases, at each of the funeral homes, the parents were talking to other people sitting with them. They nodded as we went past and that was it. Both boy’s mothers looked tired and worn the fathers grim and stoic.

I had run into Tom at Eicholtzs so we walked the three blocks down to Delong’s Music Store and checked out the latest releases. There was nothing that struck my fancy. On the way there I had shown him the office space we were going to rent. It was a pretty drab looking building front.

I met Mum and Dad at the office right on time. Denny and Eddie had school but Mary was with my parents. Mum took one look at the drab storefront and told Dad that it had to be cleaned up.

She told him the pubs in London looked better than this. She wanted the wooden façade across the top painted dark forest green with Jackson Housing in recessed letters painted gold so they would stand out on the background.

The brick facing would have to be cleaned and flower pots with green plants in the entrance. A local florist would be hired to take care of them. Even the sidewalk in the front of the building was to be cleaned.

Dad had the keys, so we were able to see the inside. According to Mum, that would take even more work. The wooden floors would have to be sanded and refinished. At the front, low wooden railings would separate the waiting area from the office.

There would be a small conference room that would have wood paneling on the lower half with wallpaper on the top half. There would be chair railing separating the top and bottom.

The table and chairs would be nicer than the best real estate office in town. That meant they would be better than Tapps.

There was an open work area, plus a hallway with two private offices on each side. One of the offices had a window facing to the open work area. Both had glass windows in their doors so you could see them. These offices would be carpeted.

At the end of the hallway was a door that opened to an employee kitchen area. Another door at the back of the kitchen opened into the storage section of the building. The storage area was a large open area.

It had stairs going into a basement. Dad told us he hadn’t a chance to look down there yet. We decided to examine the basement later.

Mum said, “I want this to look better than an old wealthy conservative bank.”

She just broke Dad’s budget by several thousand dollars.

He never batted an eyelash he just replied, “Yes Dear.”

My Dad is a smart man.

Mary had an interesting question.

“Will there be toys like the doctor's office?”

My parents exchanged glances and Dad told her, “Yes, we will have a toy chest, right here in the waiting area.”

He looked at Mum and said, “Out of the mouths of babes.”

She replied, “We should probably have coffee and tea available also.”

I put in, “A fridge in the backroom with soft drinks would be nice.”

Dad laughed, “A fridge for the office workers lunches would be good, bring your own soft drinks.”

I tried to protest that I was thinking of others, but they didn’t buy it.

We parted ways Mum, Dad, and Mary to home and me to Don’s. At Don’s, almost every seat was taken. Tom was sitting at a table with Eleanor. He waved me over to an empty seat at their table. I asked Eleanor how she was doing.

“I’m better now. The shock is passing. I had just one date with Tom so it isn’t like we were in love. It just happened so fast I was shocked for several days.”

“I think the whole school was shocked to vary degrees. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen to us.”

“But they do.”

I then relayed to them the conversation I had overheard between Miss Bales and Mr. Hurley.”

Tom thought it strange that they had to see the same thing over and over. It sounded like a science fiction story to him. They were doomed to repeat themselves till they got it right. From there he transitioned to going back and doing things to get it right.

He continued, “It would be so cool to go back to a younger self keeping your knowledge. You could be rich, and avoid the mistakes you made.”

To me, it seemed like you would be doing all the work twice and while I would avoid a lot of mistakes, I would also make new ones. It would make a neat movie if you had someone do the same day over and over until they got it right. It could be really funny.

Eleanor picked up on a different thought from what I had told them.

“Cora and Myron neither have ever been married, do you think?”

I didn’t want to think.

They were old, why they must be over fifty. That was older than my parents. Yuck!

We joked around for several hours. People came and went all afternoon, so we caught up with what was going on with every couple at school. The ‘mice’ had the school in an uproar.

Girls which had never got a second look were being reviewed. A good deal of those girls had had a really bad time growing and maturing. Now that was coming to fruition. Girls who had been pigeonholed as ugly or socially inept were now like butterflies emerging from the cocoon. It was time for new pigeon holes.

When I got home there was a letter from the United States of America, Department of Justice. I had to read it three times before I understood what they were saying. It is illegal to possess or discharge an unauthorized firearm on a U.S. military reservation.

Due to the special circumstances of an incident that I was involved in, I wouldn’t be prosecuted. Whew!

However, I would be held strictly liable in any future incidents. Okay, I would let the spy blow the place up.

It was signed by an Assistant U.S. Attorney named “Lisa”, it was only hand-signed and I couldn’t make out her last name.

I shared the letter with Mum and Dad. Dad told us he had heard that the commander out at the base had been relieved of duty. Apparently, he had made a decision that went against policy. He had the guards keep their weapons unloaded to avoid accidents.

We figured between the government wanting to keep the attempted incursion quiet, the commander leaving his troops unarmed to be saved by a civilian, plus the FBI passing the chance to catch the guy that there was no way they would want to prosecute me.

The fact remained I screwed up and had better learn to think before I acted.

After that, I played pool with Denny who had just got out of class. Eddie joined us and of course, I couldn’t beat either of the pool sharks. Mary was the only one that I could routinely beat and at the rate she was improving I wasn’t sure how long that would last.

I was saved by Mrs. Hernandez showing up for our Spanish lesson. This time she brought recipes with her written in Spanish. We talked about them for an hour. I made a copy of one for a flan. Mum never made anything like that. Maybe I could talk her into trying it. It sounded like a fantastic dessert.

After language, it was time to type. I had borrowed Mum’s kitchen timer. I was now up to twenty words a minute. That was fast enough that I was starting to think about typing my essays.

I tried reading before sleeping, but the story about descending through a volcano to a huge underground ocean and prehistoric animals just didn’t interest me. This story by one of my favorite authors hadn’t aged as well as many of his others.

Chapter 22

Friday seemed a little strange, going back to school for one day after having a day off. Some kids even asked why the parents didn’t have the funerals on Friday, so it could’ve been a three day weekend.

Some people are self-centered if you ask me.

There was a note waiting for me in homeroom. It was from Mr. Donaldson asking me to come to his office after lunch. The morning flew by as every teacher felt they had to give a quiz to make up for the day off.

Mr. Donaldson had a surprise for me in the form of a set of drawings and half a dozen hand sketches.

“My brother Jim and I got to talking about your shower head idea. Do you realize that your design is all about an adaptor? The ball joint can be directly incorporated into the showerhead and bypass your patent.”

“Here are sketches of the shower heads you provided with the adaptor built-in. Here is a primary India ink drawing on white paper. Included on the drawing are the details of either machining the parts, or more likely casting them from aluminum.

It staggered me about the major error which I had almost made. I asked him what he and his brother would like for their efforts. He looked a little nervous.

“I understand from our conversations you are going to offer this for license rather than manufacture it yourself?”

“That’s correct Mr. Donaldson.”

I had been kidded many times in the past for always calling adults Mister or Misses, but this time I really did it out of respect.

“Jim and I feel like this is a pretty big deal and would like to share between us ten percent of the license income,” he said hesitantly.

I had never had an adult act so nervous about something in my life.

“That seems reasonable to me.”

You could see the relief sweep over him.

We wrote it down in my ever-present notebook, and both signed and dated it.

“I will get our lawyer to formalize this with a contract between you and your brother and Jackson Engineering.”

We shook hands on the deal. This was another first for me.

When I got home I explained the situation to Mum and Dad. The information stopped them cold.

Finally, Dad said, “We better get this to the patent attorney in Columbus as fast as we can. I think you are doing the right thing by Tom and Jim Donaldson. They could have even filed for a patent themselves.”

Dad then stated, “Rick this is your business and your money, but I have a question for you. Did you have to make a decision right then and there?”

That stopped me cold. “I’m not sure, Mr. Donaldson appeared nervous, do you think there was a problem?”

“Rick, Tom, and Jim Donaldson are as honest as the day is long. Tom was nervous because he was asking a teenager for money. You are a minor and any deal made has to be approved by us. Now as I said, it is your business and your money, and we will automatically go along with your decisions, but that is not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“You didn’t have to make that decision right then. You could have told him you would check with the lawyer, talk it over with us and get back to him with a written proposal. Right now Tom and his brother are wondering what we have to say about all this. They are afraid that we will think they are trying to rip you off. We know that isn’t close to the truth, but they don’t know that.”

“Rick, I don’t have that much more business experience than you do, but I have life experience. I have learned to slow down and take time where I can when making decisions on money and firearms. Sometimes you have to act immediately such as at the bank robbery. Most times like today and at the airbase you have time to think. You have to learn to take time when you can.”

“I personally think you have made a good decision on how to treat Tom and Jim. It shows you have a good instinct to do the right thing. You want the business image of doing the right thing after mature thought. You got the right thing down pat. Now learn the mature thought part. By the way son, I’m proud of how you’re doing business.”

Boy that was a sharp learning experience. A letter from the Department of Justice and a lecture from Dad on the same problem is not the way I am used to learning. High School is easy compared to these lessons.

I was really glad when Mrs. Hernandez showed up for Spanish. I was ready to change the subject. Spanish was fun since tonight was the Sadie Hawkins dance, as we had our own with everything in Spanish of course. Mrs. Hernandez had come prepared with her own records. She had one of a dance called a Tango.

When she heard it playing Mum came downstairs to watch. Mrs. Hernandez danced with each of us. Denny and Eddie both said it was a stupid dance. Mum spoke up and said that men originally danced it together.

Eddie asked where it was danced she said, “Argentina.”

“No Mum I mean, where would men dance this dance together, what type of dance hall?”

Both Mum and Mrs. Hernandez got real red in the face and ignored his question. I would have to look up the history of this dance!

I skipped typing practice and got dressed up for the dance. I didn’t take a shower because my hair would still be wet. My cigar box hairdryer had finally fallen apart. After an early dinner, I paced the floor.

I heard a car pull up at six forty-five, so I was opening the door for June as she was about to ring the doorbell. She had her light brown hair done up in what I learned was a French roll. She had on makeup, but so little it appeared she had none.

It made her eyes look large and innocent. I introduced her to my family. Mum went out to the car and invited Mr. and Mrs. Hardesty in, as it would be a few minutes as she had to have pictures.

June removed her overcoat. Denny and Eddie stood there awestruck.

Mary said it for all of us, “You’re beautiful!”

June was wearing a royal blue dress with full skirts and a drop waist which gave emphasis to her slim figure. Around her neck was a double strand of pearls along with matching earrings. Her purse a tiny thing was gold mesh art deco. She was wearing black high heels that made her look much taller. She still only was heart high to me.

Chapter 23

She was a picture of perfection.  The Mouse had roared.

My tie matched her dress color perfectly. She had a boutonniere for me. Everyone made a big deal about her having to stand on her tiptoes to pin it on me. June was about five foot four inches tall so I towered over her.

Denny grabbed a footstool for her to stand on. This made us nose to nose. She pinned my flower on but got enticingly close while doing it. When she finished she gave me a light kiss on the lips. Mouse, What Mouse?

Taking my hand we posed for pictures. She held my hand and led me out to the car. All this time I was totally tongue-tied.

I finally was able to say, “June you look wonderful tonight.”

Not very exciting, but try to speak when your mouth is dry.

“Thank you, Rick, I have been waiting for this night for as long as I can remember. I have been awkward for the last few years both physically and socially. I suspect one led to the other.”

“My Mother and Father have been very supportive and assured me I would grow out of it. I can’t tell you how many hours of work my mother put into tonight. Making certain I had the right outfit, how to do my makeup and even how to ask you out.”

“Why me,” I asked?

“That question is one of the reasons Rick. You are considered the rising star of the school. Not only are you considered the top freshman, but you are also considered the top catch in the school. The older girls are conflicted, they don’t want to be seen dating a freshman, yet they would love to date you.”

She continued, “Yet at the same time you remain relatively humble. Maybe humble isn’t the right word, you just ignore it all. You are tall, dark and handsome with a reputation of being dangerous if crossed, and an excellent student with good financial prospects. What’s not to like?”

I had an urge to turn around and see who she was talking about. We got into the car so the conversation was broken up.

I told her parents, “You have a beautiful daughter.”

Her mother replied, “We know, now the rest of the world will know also. I just hope that John Madison wakes up.”

I knew John a little he was a freshman like me.

“What’s John got to do with this?”

June gave out a yell, I would’ve said screech but she was too pretty to screech, “Mother!”

It was a little incoherent in the car for a minute then it all came out. June had been mooning over John for two years. It was her attempt to get his attention at last. The ego that had got swollen with tall, dark and handsome came plummeting to earth.

I started to open my mouth, then stopped and thought. It wasn’t long but you could see the worry on Junes face. I gave voice to my thoughts.

“Well this isn’t good for my ego but at the same time, all you did was ask me to go to the dance. Why don’t we go to the dance and have fun?”

The tension in that car could’ve been cut by a knife. All of a sudden it was gone. Mrs. Hardesty apologized for letting the cat out of the bag. She thought I knew. June apologized for not telling me. Mr. Hardesty just kept driving, smart man.

I had to say something, so I told them it was okay, just surprising, but I could live with it. About that time we arrived at the school.

Now a Sadie Hawkins dance has a hillbilly image from the Li’l Abner cartoon. This was anything but. The high school gym was decorated like prom was being held. We entered through an archway stopping to have our picture taken.

There was a crowd waiting for us in particular, or rather waiting for June. All of her fellow mice were there with their dates. They applauded when we entered and stopped. I had time to mentally adjust and decided I wasn’t going to be an ass about this. I was being used, but June had worked hard for this night and I wouldn’t ruin it for her.

We sat at a table with her friends and their dates. Tonight everything centered on the girls, we guys were decorations or trophies on display. I was just the tallest trophy in every sense of the word.

Somehow it didn’t bother me very much. The girls were fighting a battle for their social standing and currently were winning. Like most people, I had a soft spot for the underdog.

I danced with June for the first two dances. I went over to buy us cokes when I ran into John Madison.

“Hey John, how are you doing?”

“Fine, I see you are with June, she has turned into a bombshell. I wish I had noticed her before.”

“She has noticed you, why don’t you ask her to dance.”

“You sure man?”

He looked up at me as he asked. You could tell he didn’t want to get me mad.

“I’m sure it’s all part of an evil plot to trap you. Go for it.”

John looked at me as if I had lost my marbles, but did straighten his shoulders and march over to June. I don’t know what was said, but they danced. As a matter of fact, they danced all of the slow dances together for the rest of the evening. I got several fast ones, but I was not that good at jitterbugging so was glad to sit most of them out.

When there was a slow dance I would ask some of the girls that were being ignored. The sad fact was that some of the mice would continue to be mice. They had asked boys to the dance.

These boys now had abandoned them for others. I danced with a different girl every time I could.

My neighbor Tom was there.

He made the comment, “Boy you got dumped quickly.”

“What can I say? She found someone she likes better.”

“That is one cruel…you know what I mean”

“She’s not cruel she’s in love. I don’t know much, but don’t get between a woman and her love.”

“Yeah like Lucille and chocolate.”

Lucille was the fattest girl in school. It ran in her family. She didn’t even try to control her weight.

“Tom that’s mean, you know her problems are inherited.”

“I was just trying to be funny, ease up.”

“Well I just got dumped it’s my party and I will cry if I want to.”

We both laughed at my wit. I fleetingly thought those would be good lyrics for a song.

June did give me a ride home. I think she could’ve floated home. I had a choice to pout or celebrate the victory. I helped celebrate as she gave a detailed description of the dance to her mother.

Her mother asked all the right questions including, “What made John ask you to dance?”

“I saw Rick talk to him and he came right over.”

“He told me you looked great, so I suggested he ask you to dance.”

“John has asked me to meet him at Don’s tomorrow, can I go?”

“Of course dear,” replied her Mom. In the meantime, Mr. Hardesty quietly drove us home confirming that he is a very smart man. When we got there June gave me a light kiss. Mr. Hardesty got out of the car and shook my hand.

“Thank you, Rick, for being a gentleman this evening.  You could have ruined it for my daughter and didn’t, I appreciate that deeply. If there is ever a way to repay you I will.”

“Thank you, Judge. I hope I never have to appear in front of you and ask for repayment.”

“Somehow Rick I don’t think you will ever appear in criminal court.”

“I hope not,” thinking of a certain letter from the Department of Justice.

Of course, when I went in I had to describe the dance to my parents. Again I had the choice of pouting or celebrating. I gave them a blow by blow starting with Junes Mothers accidental revelation. It went from there to me telling John to ask her to dance. How they danced all evening and were going to meet at Don’s tomorrow. Mum asked me what I did while she was dancing.

I share how I danced with as many different girls as possible. I did leave out my conversation with Tom. Some things parents weren’t old enough to know.

You could tell Mum thought the evening was like a romantic story. Dad didn’t say anything. Like the Judge, he knew better than to get between women and a romantic ending. I was learning, besides I thought it was really nice how the evening had turned out, maybe I liked a romantic ending.

I was to wound up for sleeping so read about the life and taming of a three-quarters wolf during the Yukon gold rush. The animal had a harsh life but ended up living in California after saving his Masters, father’s life.

All in all a good read. I especially like the authors writing style. My Aunt Merle must have liked his writing because she convinced my grandmother to give my father the middle name of London. It was being passed down through the family because Eddie was Edward London Jackson.

Chapter 24

Dad and I worked on new rental units on Saturday. I spent most of the time hauling the trash out to the curb. I couldn’t believe what people would leave behind. Well since it was really trash stuff I could understand why it was left. I couldn’t understand why they hadn’t thrown it away long before.

I asked Dad about it and he explained, “Rick there are as many reasons as there are people. But no matter the reason you can divide them into two types; down and out, and down but not out. The down and outers will live in trash, the rest won’t. Now I have simplified it because not everyone who chooses to rent is down. Actually, homeownership has just caught on since the war ended. But I stand by the basic thought.”

“How are you going to keep people from trashing your rentals?”

“We will check their backgrounds carefully. The ideal renter is a long term one who takes pride in where they live. Those are who we want. We won’t always get them.  That is why we will have a month’s rent in advance plus a security deposit which will be refundable if they leave the unit in good condition. We will do a joint inspection before they move in and another when they are leaving. I will take pictures before and after.”

“If that is the normal practice why are these units a mess?”

“Background checks and security deposits haven’t really been done in Bellefontaine. It is a standard procedure in cities. In small towns everyone knew of each other, so checks weren’t needed. That was all before the war. Nowadays people move in and out of towns and jobs so much you can’t know everyone. This country has changed and to be successful in business we have to change with it.”

“Boy, Dad you sure are sharp at this.”

“I have joined the National Realtors Association. Their magazine has good articles on managing rental units.”

“I still think you are sharp. How many other local landlords do this?”

“Right now none, believe it or not with eight units I am the largest landlord in Bellefontaine. Most of the others got in the business renting out a house they inherited. I wouldn’t call any of them professional realtors.”

“That’s what I mean, you are sharp.”

“Let’s hope it is sharp enough.”

At the end of the afternoon, I had carried the trash out of four units, two duplexes side by side. I left them broom clean for Dad. We went home just before dinner.

Dinner was fun. We kids talked a lot of Spanish to devil our parents. We didn’t say anything mean, just silly stuff but Mum and Dad didn’t know that. They would exchange looks and we would burst out laughing.

Dad finally told Mum, “They were all your idea.

She blushed a little as she replied, “You didn’t turn down the chance.”

Tom knocked on the door about then. He wanted to know if I wanted to go roller-skating with a group tonight. They were going to the Roller Arena up at Indian Lake. This weekend was the last time you would be able to skate on the wooden rink.

They were going to replace the floor with a plastic one and all the wooden wheels with plastic. It would quieten the place down, but it was also the end of an era.

I told him that sounded like fun. I changed clothes real quick and we went back to his house for our ride. We picked up Tracey along the way. It only took about thirty minutes going through Huntsville to get there. I always liked that drive.

There was a huge curve outside of Huntsville where routes 117 and 33 splits. At the end of the curve was a tourist souvenir place, and the entire outside was coated in seashells. It was starting to look rundown since the tourist business at the lake didn’t recover after the war.

The big amusement park at Cedar Point was now easy to get to with all the new roads being built and cars able to go faster. This was killing the Russell Point amusement park. The ride took us past the Ark.

This was a small restaurant and bar shaped like the ark in the bible next to my Uncle Jim's house. It too was showing its age. Next, we passed Cottonwood and the old restaurant where my grandmother worked when she was alive. It was right at the dam.

It was hard to believe but Indian Lake was mostly manmade as part of the Miami canal system. Even the concrete on the dam was looking old. This was almost depressing. But hey, we were going roller skating, I wonder what girls might be there.

I did see Sue Barton but she was with a group and I had no reason to butt in. Sam Shepard and Pam Schaffer were still together. June and John weren’t here. I skated around with Tom and Tracey.

There were several moonlight skates where they turned the lights down low. I asked a couple of girls to skate. They went to school in Lewistown. This school was much smaller than Bellefontaine, so we weren’t in the same sports league and most of the kids didn’t know each other.

The moonlight skates were fun but neither the girls nor I were interested in each other. Actually, the noise of wooden wheels on wooden floors made it very hard to hold a conversation. All we could do was hold hands.

I didn’t know them well enough to put my arm around them. One girl Rhonda was a very good skater and she held both my hands across our bodies. I felt lucky to avoid a disaster. I was a competent skater which meant I could go around in circles and stop on demand without falling. I had never tried to skate backward.

I could do that very well on ice skates, but for some reason hadn’t tried it on wheels. I think it was because on an ice pond you only had your friends to see you fall, but in the public rink, the whole world was watching. Also, the traffic was so heavy usually that you would take a crowd down with you if you fell.

We had sodas and a slice of pizza before heading home. It was a pleasant evening. We agreed it would be fun to come back in a month or so, and try the plastic floor and wheels.

I finished up the story on the part wolf. I wondered if the dog was real and if any of his pup’s descendants were still around.

I also spent all day Sunday helping Dad and Denny clean up rental units Dad had just bought. None were as interesting as the Pit. He told me how he had hired a contractor to finish the office downtown. He wanted it to look good, as much as Mum did.

We worked for almost fourteen hours. Today Denny and I were painting. Every wall was to be white. The woodwork had to be taped off so we wouldn’t splatter it. That took half a day. Then we started painting using rollers that Dad had brought with him. Most of the walls took two coats. We got the first coat done on two units and called it a day. I was exhausted.

Dinner wasn’t a repeat of last night. Mum made the table an English only zone. I watched a little TV, but by nine o’clock I was ready for bed. I went to sleep without any reading.

Chapter 25

I woke up to the first snow of the year. It was only an inch deep, but Eddie was listening to the radio to see if the school would be closed. I wasn’t going to disappoint him by telling him that I could only remember school being closed a couple of times since I started school.

The kids in the country who had to ride buses would get at least a week off every year, but those of us in town had to walk no matter how deep it got. Seldom was it deeper than a foot.

Today even the kids who rode buses got to go to school. It looked like there would be a total of two or three inches. It was nice wet packing snow so we made plans to build a snowman after school.

Mum told us she would get out the scarf and hat that we put on the snowman every year. That is when a crisis of immense proportions reared its head. Our new house was gas heated. We hadn’t any coal for the eyes or mouth!

After a hasty family confab, Dad agreed to pick up some at one of the rentals that hadn’t been converted yet. I felt lazy as I didn’t get a chance to run. I was enjoying sitting at the table drinking coffee while talking about nothing with the family.

It wasn’t a bad way to start the day. That is till Dad reminded me there was a snow shovel with my name on it in the garage. The driveway and sidewalk needed to be cleared.

I offered Denny five bucks to do it, but he wasn’t interested. Eddie was about to take me up on the offer when Dad kicked me under the table. I can take a hint and got to work. After clearing the walks I took a shower but was careful not to get my hair wet.

Since my hairdryer had fallen apart and I hadn’t built another I didn’t want to hear the dreaded, “You will catch your death.”

Tom and I walked to school together. We both agreed the roller skating was fun but not as good as ice skating. We would check the ice pond out this Friday evening. The pond was across from the tennis courts in Mary Rutan Park.

The city floods the field with a foot or so of water every fall to form a skating pond about an acre in size. There were lights so we could skate at night and a small shed which can hold a dozen people. It has benches to use while putting your skates on along with a fireplace if you get too cold.

It is attended by a city worker who keeps a roaring fire going. I suspect he is also there to prevent kids from using it as a make-out place.

Mr. Brown the school janitor was mopping the water up from the snow we brought in with our shoes. He must dream of mopping. Tom Wilson who can be pretty stupid at times ran at the puddle and tried to slide across the floor.

He made it about two feet to a dry spot and landed hard on his butt. We all laughed at him when he stood up. He bowed to all.

Since this was the first dumb thing Tom had done since the food fight we figured he was due. Apparently Mr. Brown didn’t see it that way as he took Tom to the office. Well, it got Mr. Brown out of mopping, so maybe he just took the opportunity at Tom’s expense. Some things are like day and night, they just happen.

I turned in my weekly paper to Mr. MacMillan my World History teacher. It was the first paper that I had typed out. It had footnotes and citations. I can tell you it is really a pain to correct typing mistakes.

I had kept at it till I had a clean copy for my first effort. Mr. MacMillan held it up for the class to see then he passed it around.

“This is the sort of work you will have to learn to do if you intend to go to college. I urge those that can to take typing and move up to this level.”

I heard a muttered, “Way to go, Jackson, you just made it harder for us to get a good grade.”

I turned around and it was Tom Wilson. He didn’t seem to be the happy go lucky class clown at the moment.

I winked at him. That didn’t help matters but I wasn’t too worried. I was twice his size and he didn’t have a reputation as a fighter. After class he cornered me.

“How did you get to take typing already? I thought it was reserved for girls or senior boys who need an elective.”

“I bought a typewriter and have been teaching myself.”

“I may have to go that route or use the one at Dad's office to practice on.”

“You sounded like you were unhappy about me turning in a paper like that.”

“Ah, I just have a reputation to maintain as a smart aleck. Actually, I want good enough grades to be admitted to Ohio State as a business major. If I am going to run a Dad's print shop in the future I will have to know about the business.”

I had known Tom Wilson for eight years and had never seen this side of him. I wonder who else I know that differs from the front they put on.

At lunch, a bunch of the kids went outside and built snowmen in the front yard of the school. Others made snow angels and even more got into snowball fights, of course, this lead to your standard bloody nose.

This time it was my old friend Tom Pew who had the honors. I stayed inside and did some research in the school library. A paper I was considering writing was on the Indians in Ohio.

I knew that the Indians were members of the Shawnee and that Chief Blue Jacket had a town near Bellefontaine and that Chief Blackhoof was over in Wapakoneta, but that was about it. It would be nice to know a little about them. I couldn’t find anything in the school library, so thought I would go downtown to the Carnegie public library after school.

The rest of the school day was school, in other words, both teachers and pupils got through it. As usual, I kept to business doing my classwork ahead. I had kept track loosely of the time spent by teachers giving new information or concepts to students and repeating it till at least the average member of the class appeared to get it.

Maybe fifteen minutes of each day was new information, the other half-hour of the class was repetition. Since I had already studied ahead it was only for that information which I didn’t understand or had further questions on that caught my attention.

I was actually getting about five minutes of teaching in every forty-five minutes of class. The rest of the time I spent studying or writing ahead.

At first, teachers would call me out for not paying direct attention to class. Very quickly they learned that I had a good command of the material and left me alone. If I would ask questions about the material from pure curiosity the teacher would give me a short answer.

If on the rare occasion it was something the teacher cared about it would divert the direction they were teaching. This was good and bad. It was not covering information that would be on tests, but at the same time, the students would actually pay attention.

No matter what, we all got through the day. I trudged through the snow to the library. Some people cleared their sidewalks, some didn’t. It made for an interesting journey. It also left me with wet and cold feet. I was glad to get to the library.

My relationship with the library was not the normal one for a student. When I was a newspaper delivery boy the library was on my route. I would deliver the paper and immediately check to see if there were any new books.

I was a voracious reader from about the third grade on when I had discovered the library existed. That was a magical spring day. As a class outing one afternoon we walked the five blocks from Suzie Parker grade school to the library. That was the start of a long relationship.

I had checked out so many books over the years the head librarian, Virginia had given me the privilege of signing my own books in and out. My card number was 425e. I got very adept at pulling the book card out of its holder pasted in the back of the book, writing the due date and my number on the card and filing it under its due date in the book card tray.

If the library was really busy when I was there I would help check books in and out.

Because of this activity, I had total freedom of the library. I had explored every nook and cranny. On this trip, I went to the card catalog shelves and very quickly found there was little material to be checked out. There were some reference works, but they seemed to be overdone academic studies that would bore you out of your mind without giving the real flavor of events.

The books would tell you that in the French and Indian war Major General Edward Braddock Commander of the British forces in North America attacked Fort Duquesne in 1775 with fourteen hundred men and was repulsed with heavy losses.

The reality was that only five hundred men escaped and many of them were wounded. Braddock himself died four days after the battle. His troops buried him in the middle of the trail and drove their wagons over it to hide the grave so his body wouldn’t be desecrated.

The Chaplin was wounded, so the brief service was presided over by a young volunteer American officer, George Washington. As Braddock lay dying he gave his Coldstream Guards ceremonial sash to Washington who wore it with his uniform for the rest of his life.

They were harassed by the Indians for many miles. That retreat must have been hell. A young Indian by the name of Catahecasca was in the battle, later he became known as Chief Blackhoof. It was Blackhoof whom I was interested in learning more about.

Since I wasn’t finding anything helpful upstairs I went to the basement. The basement had the restrooms and a large meeting area. All walls were lined with bookshelves. These held the books which had not been checked out for at least ten years. The library never threw books away they just moved downstairs. These shelves held many treasures.

Chapter 26

It was here I found the book Falcons of France. It was by Nordoff and Hall who had served in the American volunteer group the Lafayette Escadrille. They went on to write the Mutiny on the Bounty. The flying book had pictures from the time period and really told the story of those airmen in the early days of World War I.

It also held a copy of Olaf Stapleton’s First and Last Men the grandest look at mankind’s future ever written. It spread across two billion years and eleven distinct stages of man, we being the first. I read and reread that book. Before I found it, it hadn’t been checked out since 1937. The card in the back will show I checked it out three times from 1955 to 1958.

I was hoping to find something in this stack of forgotten works. I was surprised when I realized there was another person down there sitting at one of the work tables. I recognized Janet Rupert immediately. I used to deliver her newspaper. Mrs. Rupert had several books out and was taking notes.

She said, “Hello Ricky what brings you to the dungeon?”

I had never thought of it as a dungeon, a treasure vault was more like it.

“I would like to learn more about the Indians of this area especially Chiefs Blue Jacket and Blackhoof. “

“You came to the right place. Did you know I am working on a book that covers the Indians of Ohio?”

“It is about a young American settler by the name of Oliver Spencer. He was held captive by the Indians, finally set free and became a lifelong friend. He knew Blackhoof very well and helped the Quakers set up the Indian farms near Lewistown and what is now St. Johns. I have a working title of “Howling Wilderness, the Indian captivity of Ollie Spencer.”

“Is it going to be published?”

“I certainly hope so, but I’m just getting a good start.”

“Would you please guide me, I don’t even know where to look.”

“Why don’t you start with some original material?”

“What is that?” I enquired.

“Material which was generated in that day and age.”

“They would have that here in the library?”

“Let me show you.”

She then proceeded to show me something I had never noticed before. On top of one of the cabinets were large books. They were only a couple of inches thick with hardbacks but they were huge.

As a matter of fact, they were bound newspapers. In the 1930s there was a project to preserve the old newspapers they had on hand. It had continued to this day. Each book had its dates embossed in gold. Some of those newspapers I had delivered.

The book she showed me was not the Bellefontaine Examiner but the Bellefontaine Gazette from 1832. I had just found many more hours of browsing.

She explained to me that they had to be handled very carefully. I should bring white cotton gloves in the future. They were trying to convert them to microfiche but hadn’t raised enough money yet. I asked how much they still needed.

It would cost five hundred dollars to convert everything pre-1900.

“How much for the entire collection,” I asked?

“It would be two thousand dollars upfront and two hundred dollars a year every year thereafter. I am on the library board and we can’t figure out how to raise the funds. If we could get half of it the state would match the rest,” she told me.

“So you would need one thousand two hundred and fifty dollars to start and one hundred dollars a year after that.”

“That would do it, are you going to write a check,” she asked with a cheeky grin.

“Let me think about it, I may be able to help,” I replied.

I was so proud this decision could wait! I would think about it, talk it over with my parents and if we all agreed it was a good idea I would write that check.

‘Oaky we will be waiting.”

The way she said it she must have thought it was going to be a really long wait, like until something froze over.

When I started reading the Gazette one of the first stories was an obituary for Chief Blackhoof. He had died late the year before 1831 and this was dated January 1832 so it was a good lead story. It turns out there was a debate about how long he lived. Some accounts had him one hundred and ten years old, but most others thought he was ninety when he died.

He was really entwined with early American expansion. He fought against the British in the French and Indian war. He decided that the Indian way of life could not stand against the Americans.

He negotiated with President Jefferson in Washington and allied with William Harrison, who would become a President of the United States, at the Battle of Fallen Timbers against Chief Tecumseh. This victory ended the Indian's chances in Ohio.

It was the same as every time a hunter-gatherer society met a farming society. The farmers didn’t need as much territory. Another grim fact the farmers would outbreed the hunters.

The hunters would starve to death in the winter. Birth rates would be low in a starving population. This is why there were so many whites kidnapped by Indians. They were trying to replace their population.

Blackhoof was smart enough to see how events would proceed, so he allied with the new American Nation. He met with then-President Jefferson in 1802. Since Blackhoof was a Principle Chief of the Shawnee. Jefferson ordered that Blackhoof was to be presented with a large Peace Medal.

This would have been made out of silver and be four by six-inch oval to be worn about the neck. The Gazette had an article that described the medal in great detail. For some reason, it was of great interest to them at the time.

The medal was actually two silver sheets fitted together. They couldn’t stamp them out at the Philadelphia Mint with the equipment they had so they engraved two silver sheets with cardboard between them.

They then put a copper edge around the two sheets to hold them together. Thus the medal was light in weight. For the longest time, Indians would complain about the lightweight when compared with their earlier British counterparts. This continued on until better equipment was installed in Philadelphia.

These were the same medals that Lewis and Clark handed out on their expedition. They were very rare and valuable. The article explained that Chief Blackhoof’s medal had disappeared in history.

It was speculated that it was buried with him which was a practice of the Shawnee. Since the exact whereabouts of his grave wasn’t known there wasn’t a chance it could have been stolen. That is if it was buried with him.

The article continued on that other records state that he never received the medal. That it was presented to an Indian who went by the name of Captain Lewis. It is a fact the Lewis received a medal on that trip and used the event of its presentation to declare himself a Chief. He was a tall good looking man who always dressed well to present a good image, and was known as a self-promoter.

He had a group of Indians at what is now Lewistown. They followed him even after they found out he was taking money destined for the tribe from the Federal Government to buy land in his own name. He lost his rank with all the other members of the tribe. He went to Kansas when the Shawnee were relocated and died there in 1826.

At the same time, Blackhoof led the Shawnee to Kansas but was allowed to return to Blackhoof Village to spend his last years. He died in 1831.

There was enough information available from the 1832 Bellefontaine Gazette for half a dozen papers. I thanked Mrs. Rupert for her help. She told me that it was no problem that if I was really interested in the Ohio frontier days that in the spring the Logan County Historical Society would be restoring Manary’s Blockhouse.

I asked her what a blockhouse was. She told me that it was like a log cabin that was fortified. It would be a place local settlers could retreat to in times of trouble and serve as a trading post for the area.

The Manary Blockhouse had been moved from its original location north of Bellefontaine to Russells Point right across from and near the amusement park. It was privately owned but deteriorating so the Historical Society volunteered to restore it.

The present owner had bought it with the vague idea of using it as a paying tourist attraction but had never been able to make it work and would love to sell it. The Historical Society would love to have it but didn’t have the funding. I told her I would be interested so call me when the time came.

She said, “Okay how about this Saturday?”

“I thought you said in the spring.”

“I did, but I have to go up by myself on Saturday to survey what work needs to be done and report back to the Society. I really wasn’t looking forward to doing that myself.”

Since I didn’t have anything planned I told her yes.

“Be sure to wear old clothes and bring a flashlight, if you have a flash camera that would help.”

“What time and where do we meet?”

“If I picked you up would nine o’clock be okay?”

“That would be good. See you then.”

She left and I continued reading the Gazette from over a hundred years ago. An article in the next issue caught my eye.

The headline was, “Still no leads in Blackhoof robbery.”

It appears about a month before Blackhoof died there was a break-in at his house on a Sunday morning while he was at church. It mentioned that papers and other items of value were missing.

No progress had been made since “there is no Sheriff or Constable near Blackhoof Village. A Deputy Sheriff would visit from Piqua in the spring.”

That is long response time, over six months. I wondered if the bad guys had time to getaway.

I went home to the fun part of the day.  The snow had melted enough that making a snowman was out and I was too late anyway. I arrived at the same time as Mrs. Hernandez. She was a very patient person and didn’t care what direction we took things as long as it was in Spanish.

Denny and Eddie had been insufferable little brats till we had started studying together. Now we had fun going back and forth. What was irritating in English was fun in Spanish.

Then there was the Mary effect. Who could get upset with that cute little girl? If we got snippy with each other she would stomp her foot and put on her best Mum voice and call us by our full names. I swear women are born with that ability.

After dinner, I practiced my typing for a second session. I had now gone halfway through the teaching text and my speed was up to almost thirty words a minute without errors or looking. Touch typing was neat but after my schooling was done I wondered if I would ever use it again.

That night I read the third book in a series. It was about a group that had mutinied in the South Seas and wandered till they found an island to settle, to this day their descendants live there.

Chapter 27

Tuesday flew by, there was nothing worth talking about, at school it was just another day. I did get teased a little by Tom Humphreys about typing my homework paper. Everyone knew that girls did the typing.

My response was a very mature, “Your mother wears combat boots.”

He came back with a better, “Yep, and she’s going to kick your butt.”

We both laughed at that and parted with no problems.

After school, the routine of the day continued, with us kids translating into Spanish signs you would see while driving. The Burma Shave signs were hilarious.

After Denny and Eddie finished their chore of doing the dishes, with only the normal amount of whining by Eddie, they went to watch TV. Mary was playing dolls in with the boys. Mum drank her tea while Dad and I had an after-dinner cup of coffee.

Mum handed Dad an envelope and said, “The gas well royalty check came today.”

Dad opened it and stated, “Seventy four dollars the same as last year.”

I dimly remembered talk of the check from other years but had never paid attention.

“What is the deal with a gas well?”

Dad related that it started a long time ago in 1847. One of your great-great-great grandfathers on my mother’s side by the name of John Butts was released from the Ohio State Penitentiary on a technicality.

He had been convicted of first-degree murder and two counts of manslaughter. They didn’t establish the degree of manslaughter so he was released. Family legend has it that he was attacked in his own home by slave chasers, who were trying to rob him.”

“He was a known abolitionist and they were hunting for hidden slaves, or just plain wanted to rob him. What they didn’t realize you don’t break into the house of a blacksmith who kept an ax under his bed.”

“He was railroaded into jail as southern Ohio was pro-slavery at the time.”

“Wow, I thought getting off on technicalities was a modern thing.”

“It has been happening since lawyers existed and probably before they were even called lawyers Rick,” Dad replied.

“Once he was released he left Ohio and went to California by ship around Cape Horn. He joined the gold rush in 1849. He later returned to Ohio and purchased land in Morgan County where his family lived.”

“It descended down to two of my bachelor Uncles who both died in 1935. The federal government forced a sale by the family, as they were putting together a national forest. However, the family was allowed to keep the oil, gas and mineral rights for ninety-nine years. Those rights will expire in 2034.”

“There is a small natural gas well pumping on the property. As one of one hundred and nineteen descendants, I get a royalty check every year. So we are getting money from the California gold rush.”

“That is really neat!”

“Yes it is Rick, but the money was obtained by a known killer. Is it blood money?”

“Does it matter after so long,” I asked?

“Not really, but it does make you think and it is a heckuva good yarn to tell and the best part is it is all true. There is no give or take a lie or two in this story.”

“Do we know anything about the trial?”

Dad replied, “Unfortunately no, my Aunt Merle tried to obtain the court trial records, but the Ohio counties were combined and subdivided so many times that she never found them. She did get a copy of the warden’s description from when he was the prison. I will show it to you someday. It could be a description of me.”

“That is really weird. I wonder if anything is buried down on that old farm.”

“We will have to check the place out someday. I think I could still find where the buildings were. The government tore everything down after they bought the land. I remember the area well because we summered there and used to play in the old Conestoga wagon that your grandmother came back from Kansas in.”

“Tell me more!”

“Some other time Rick, I’ve had a long day.”

When I went to bed my head was spinning. I had Indians and the California gold rush running around in my head. There was a century-old theft from Blackhoof’s house to wonder about; was there anything hidden on the old farm and if so how would we find it. This was better than any story I could read. I wondered what my dreams would be like.

When I awoke Wednesday morning it was to another six inches of snow and no dreams. This time we all listened to the radio for school closings. The county schools were closed for the day and the kids who rode buses to Bellefontaine had the day off but us city kids had to walk.

Life is very unfair. I cleared the driveway so Dad could get the car out. He was going to drive us to school. The snow was still coming down hard with no sign of letting up.

On the way to school, we picked up Eleanor Price who was walking by herself. Many walks hadn’t been cleared and it was tough going for her. She didn’t hesitate in getting into the car. “Thanks, Mr. Jackson, it is nasty out there today.”

“Yes, it is I wouldn’t be surprised if you kids were sent home early today.”

That started it. Eddie all of a sudden was worried that they would let school out and he would have to walk home alone and probably get lost and freeze to death. Dad assured him that he would listen to the radio and if school closings were announced he would come to pick him up.

Eddie might get himself lost but Bellefontaine was a small town. As far as freezing to death he had on a hat with built-in earmuffs, a scarf, with a one-piece snowsuit over his regular clothes and five buckle arctic boots. Mum didn’t believe in taking chances with the cold.

She didn’t want us, “To catch your death.”

Today Mr. Brown was shoveling the school sidewalk. I bet he would rather be mopping the floor. The snow today was a light powder and the wind was picking up so it was blowing it back as he cleared the walks.

We had classes up until lunchtime when they announced everyone was being sent home. We were being kicked out in the cold without being fed. Tom and I decided that we might starve to death by the time we walked the half-mile home, so we walked the mile down to Don’s for a hamburger. The place was full. Two Ohio State Patrolmen came in for lunch. They announced to all that the drifting was so bad that they recommended anyone driving not to go out of town.

On the walk home the snow was blowing and blowing with drifts as high as four feet. It was kind of cool looking, but I was glad to get home and out of the cold. Mum had me start a fire in the fireplace.

The other kids had beaten me home so we all gathered around the fire. Mum brought out the old popcorn cages. They were a clamshell-type of a basket, with a long handle so we could pop popcorn over the fire.

While we popped the corn she darned socks. She would put a light bulb in the heel to keep their shape and use a heavy darning thread. She would darn and re-darn socks until the knots got so bad they would rub your heels.

I was starting to cheat now that I had my own money. When the heels would wear through I would haul them out to the trash can and buy new ones without telling her.

“Rick, I noticed you have magic socks,” my Mum told me.

“What,” I replied?

Uh oh, busted.

“You never have socks in the wash that need darning anymore.”

“They have seemed to last longer maybe they are making them better these days.”

“Maybe so, where do you buy them? I would like to get some for the other kids. I really hate this darning.”

She can be so mean!

“J C Penney is where I buy socks.”

“I will look for the other kids the next time I am out.”

I never saw Mum darn a sock again in her life so I suspect she found those magic socks. More to the point I think she had just realized that our finances had really changed and that she didn’t have to make do anymore.

I practiced typing for several hours. I then had to learn how to change the ribbon on the typewriter because I had already worn it out. I used a trick Miss Wolcott had told me about.

I flipped the used ribbon and put it back on. The manual said nothing about this. I suspect this was because the people who sold typewriters also sold the ribbons.

That was just like the Gillette people didn’t tell you that if you removed the blade from the safety razor and left it in baby oil until the next use, you could make it last a month before it got to dull to use. I had just started to shave and Dad had shown me that trick.

He still had an old razor strop used for sharpening a cut-throat razor. He had tried to sharpen the Gillette razors with that but he cut himself trying to hold the reversible blade so had given up.

He figured by soaking the blade in oil and using both sides he could make a twenty-five cent pack of razors last for six months. The price of blades really bothered him.  He admitted that King Gillette really had a good idea with the safety razor.

Dad had shaved with a straight razor for thirty years and would still nick himself occasionally. That is why he kept a styptic stick in the bathroom cabinet.

Mrs. Hernandez called and begged off of Spanish which was fine by us. We played pool in the basement then spent the evening in front of the television.

I read about Liza, Topsy and Simon Legree that night. I think it is ironic that at the end of the story Eliza is moving to Liberia Africa where one of the first things the returned Africans did was enslave the locals.

Chapter 28

There was no school on Thursday because of the drifting snow. I cleared our driveway and sidewalks. The drift on the side of the garage was so tall I could walk up to it and step onto the roof. Well, that is what I thought until I sank in up to my waist while trying it. Mum wasn’t real happy when I came in all soaked through.

Denny and Eddie got all bundled up and went out to make a few bucks by clearing sidewalks. They came back at noon looking like five-foot-long icicles but very happy ones as they had made nine dollars each.

They spent the rest of the afternoon building things with tinker toys and Lincoln logs. Mum and Mary were watching As the World Turns. I watched it a little. I hoped Bob and Lisa would get married. They seemed like they would be a perfect couple.

Mrs. Hernandez came over later. We sat and talked about the snow and all the problems it was causing. It took me about ten minutes to realize that I was thinking in Spanish! I had enough of a vocabulary that when I thought about what to say next I didn’t have to translate.

I told everyone about it. Denny said that happened to him a little, Eddie not at all. Mary said she had been doing that for a long time now.

Since she would go visit Mrs. Hernandez when the weather permitted she had almost double the lesson time we had. I think Mrs. Hernandez got lonely by herself every day since both of the Wingers worked and liked having Mary come over.

We read Cuban newspapers. From the editorials, I think Batista wasn’t very well-liked and would have trouble in the future.

I finished up the story about slavery. To me all the characters were stereotypes and it was hard to relate to them. Well, I guess I hated Simon Legree, so that was a type of relating. What was interesting about him was that he was a transplanted Northerner. I thought it was only Southerners who owned slaves and were cruel to them.

Friday I awoke to the sound of water. The temperatures had risen overnight and a thaw was in progress. You could almost watch the snow sink into the ground. The gutters in the street had running water. I bet the Mad River was mad today!

When we lived on Detroit Street one of the creeks was a brick tunnel which ran near Mary Rutan Hospital to under the house next door. It was for storm runoff. It must be flooded to the ceiling today. We had explored the entire length of the tunnel. Mum hated that and warned us of flash floods and catching polio.

School was all about catching up for the missed time. That meant we would have quizzes all day. Since I was ahead on my material it didn’t matter to me. To hear some of the kids it was the end of the world. I mean they hadn’t had some classes since last Monday, how could they be expected to remember anything from that long ago.

As predicted almost every class had a snap quiz on Friday. How can it be a snap quiz when everyone knew it was coming? At least lunch was good in the cafeteria. They had barbeque sandwiches.

Not Texas barbeque but Ohio school barbeque. That was a hamburger with some sort of sauce on a bun. They weren’t great but I ate three anyway plus two rice puddings for dessert along with four pints of milk.

Hey, I am a big boy. They also put something green on my plate but since I couldn’t name it I wouldn’t eat it.

At lunch I sat with Tom and Tracey, we talked about going ice skating on Sunday afternoon, if the ice was thick enough. The way it was melting today it wouldn’t be.

After school, I went downtown and browsed for Christmas presents. The kids would be easy it was my parents that I didn’t have any ideas for.

I then stopped at the library downtown and spent more time with the Bellefontaine Gazette published in the early 1800s. The advertisements were hilarious. I looked for but never found another mention of the robbery at Blackhoof’s. With his death, the Indians seem to disappear from the area.

I got home in time to turn around and go with the family to pick out a Christmas tree. For some reason, we always put it up about this time every year. Most people put them up on the first of the month or Christmas Eve.

We put it up and left it up for twelve days after Christmas. I don’t know if it had anything to do with the song or not. I should ask.

We always bought it from the Boy Scouts at my Troop so we went to the lot. Mr. Geist my Scout Master was there. We talked for a while. He knew about my involvement with the Council and encouraged me to keep at it.

He told me my Eagle had been approved and that we could have the ceremony in late January as planned. There had been a scheduling problem at the church but it was now confirmed for January 25 if I wanted to start sending invitations out.

I could order them from the BSA catalog or pick them up at the Council Headquarters in Springfield.

We picked out blue spruce that was about seven-foot tall. When we got it home Dad took a fresh cut off the bottom and put the tree up in our metal stand. We had bricks to put on each leg of the stand so it wouldn’t fall over. I filled the stand with a mixture of Karo syrup and water to feed the tree. We wouldn’t decorate it till Sunday afternoon. That gave it time for the limbs to settle in place.

At home, our Spanish conversation was about what we wanted for Christmas. There was a letter from Marvin Christenson the patent attorney. He acknowledged receiving the updated drawings with a built-in ball joint.

He told me that one of the engineers reviewing the system had asked about that. He also wrote that the first look at the patent search was looking good, but they had a way to go before filing.

After the other kids went to their rooms I had a discussion with Mum and Dad of what I would like to buy my brothers and sister for Christmas so we didn’t buy two of the same item. I asked them what they would like, but they were no help at all.

Saturday I slept so late I had to rush through my pushups and other exercises, shower and gulp some breakfast down before Mrs. Rupert showed up. Of course, she sat and had coffee and talked with my parents for another half hour so I hadn’t needed to hurry. It was good that she did, she was able to explain to my parents what was going on much better than I could.

Dad knew the owner of the lot where the Blockhouse was sitting and wondered who actually owned the Blockhouse. Mrs. Rupert told him that it was part of the Radford estate. “Brice Radford,” Dad asked?

“Yes he died about two months ago and Mrs. Radford would love to sell it. Brice had plans for a tourist attraction. That didn’t work out so he let the city use it as an Indian Lake tourist information center till he could figure out what to do with it. The Historical Society would love to have it, but Mrs. Bradford wants to sell it.”

“Yeah, she was always tight with a dollar. I went to his funeral. I used to drive speedboats for him during the summer.”

“You mean those old beautiful wooden Chris Craft boats?”

“Yes, I would pick up extra cash on the weekends during the summer when not working on the railroad. Rick spent a lot of time up there with me. Those were fun days.”

Mum put in, “I don’t know what you call fun we barely kept the family fed in those days.”

“I know Peg, but it was still fun shilling boat rides. Get your speedboat ride, Speedy speedboat ride, just one thin dime, just one-tenth of a dollar, right here, your speedy speedboat rides.”

I had to laugh Dad, could have worked as a carnival barker. He had run away with the carnival when he was twelve, but the sheriff brought him back. Grandma says that was the biggest mistake she ever made, letting the sheriff know he had run away. I think she was kidding. With Grandma, you never knew.

I dressed in old warm clothes and got out one of Dad’s railroad lanterns. We headed up to Russells Point to the old Blockhouse. It was locked solid with a padlock. We could have pounded on those doors for days without breaking them. I realized why it was called a Blockhouse. It was as solid as a block.

It was built log cabin style but the logs must have been three feet in diameter before they trimmed them. They were planed flat by hand using an adze. It must have taken them forever to do.

The wood had been cut in the early seventeen hundreds, so it was around two hundred and fifty years old. That wood would be hard as iron now.

Mrs. Rupert explained that the roof would have been replaced many times, but these were the original walls. She had a key for the padlock so we didn’t have to try anything desperate.

There was electricity in the summer, but it was turned off for the winter. Any furniture had been removed, now it was one big square room with a stone fireplace.

Mrs. Rupert showed me what to look for. We basically just had to check the mud chinking to see if it looked loose. if it did I was to pry a little with my pocket knife. She hadn’t told me to bring one or ask if I had one, it was just a given in those days that I would have a pocket knife. Of course, I did. If any of the mud came loose from my prying that indicated repair. I told her I thought I could do that.

I started outside while she started inside. After an hour we switched places. It looked like we could get it done in another hour. Inside I took up where she had left off. I had worked my way around to the fireplace when I noticed some mud that looked loose. I pried at it with my knife and if I fell away. When it did it revealed an unnatural looking straight line, so I dug at the line with my knife.

When I did, part of the wood came off in my hand. It was the cover of a compartment. Using my light I looked into the compartment. There was a long narrow box inside. I pulled the box out. It was about two inches high, five inches wide and a foot long. The lid was hinged across the width rather than length. It had no lock so I raised the lid.

It was tarnished, but there was no question that I was looking at a picture of Thomas Jefferson. I picked up the silver medal and turned it over. Engraved on the back was two hands shaking with a crossed peace pipe and tomahawk above the hands.

It had to be Blackhoof’s peace medal which had disappeared with or before his death. There were no records of a presentation just Jefferson’s order that he be awarded one. There were no portraits of him wearing it, so it was never certain that he had actually received one.

Underneath the medal was a bundle of letters. They were tied with a faded blue ribbon. I was able to live the edge of one of the letters and see that it was signed, “General Benjamin Harrison.” There was no question in my mind these belonged to Blackhoof. My first urge was to yell and scream, my second to call Mrs. Rupert.

I did none of these. I stopped and thought. It was only recently that I had learned that when you had the chance to think about an action you should do so. There would be many times you would have to act without thinking, so take advantage of the times you can.

I closed the box and returned it and its contents to its niche in the wall. I was able to place the mud back in a position to cover signs of disturbance. Unless someone brushed against it to knock the mud off they would never know it was there.

Doing this was almost instinctual. I had to gain time to figure out the right thing to do. If I revealed the find to the world now I would lose all control. Did I even have the right to try to control this find? I needed to think.

I finished my part of the job and found that Mrs. Rupert had done hers. We both concluded that the entire Blockhouse needed re-chinking. She locked up. On the way back to town I told her,

“While checking the place out I daydreamed about finding a treasure like Blackhoof’s medal. Who would it belong to?”

Chapter 29

“Rick we don’t even know that the medal ever existed. If it did it would be a big mess. Anyone who had any family connection with Blackhoof would make a claim. Then there are the Shawnee tribes. Right now there are three recognized by the United States.”

“The ones that are closest to Blackhoof would be the ones in Oklahoma, which is where his people ended up. For a while, they were part of the Cherokee Nation. The Indians from Lewistown went to Kansas. There are also other tribes that would feel they have a claim.”

“Then there is the Federal Government, every state that has hosted many of the tribes, just within Ohio the Logan County Historical Society would probably be at war with the Auglaize County Historical Society. When treasure like that becomes known everyone possible would have a handout for it.”

“The present owner of the Manary Blockhouse Mrs. Radford would feel like it was hers. The property it is sitting on belongs to Russells Point so they would have a claim. The legal battles would probably take one hundred years.”

“The really nasty battles wouldn’t be the legal ones, it would be the scholars. Every professor of Native American History in the world would want in on it.”

“There would be a small footnote that we were present at the find. The implication would be we were sweeping the floor or something when the Ph.D. made the find. When we found it we would fall to our knees and worship him or her.”

“Now that is cynical!”

“No, that is how it works. Actually, I would want nothing to do with such a find.”

“From everything you just told me, it sounds like the Shawnee Tribe would have naturally ended up with Blackhoof’s papers and valuables.”

“If they hadn’t been buried with him that is where they would have gone.”

“Thanks that was interesting.”

She dropped me off. It was only three o’clock. As usual, there was coffee on. Dad was at the kitchen table doing one of his usual projects, this time he was making duck decoys. He was at the stage of painting them. Mum was sitting with him and embroidering a table cloth.

I poured a cup of coffee and joined them.

“I need to talk.”

They both looked up quickly. Who knows what went through their minds.

I joked, “No you are not going to be grandparents.”

If looks could kill I would’ve been done for.

I went on to explain the whole situation starting with, “I have found a treasure.”

Then I told them of my trip to the library in which I met Mrs. Rupert, how she led me to the Bellefontaine Gazette which in turn told about Blackhoof’s mythical medal. Then how I read about a robbery at Blackhoof’s shortly before he died. This all followed today’s discovery.

Actually, there were many interruptions during the story as my parents gained understanding.

When I was done, Dad started with, “Well Rick you certainly know how to throw the cat amongst the pigeons. What do you plan to do?”

“Well, the first thing I have done is bought some time to figure out the right thing to do.”

“That is good, and it isn’t an irrevocable step. You can always ‘discover’ it at a later date.”

‘I did get that far in my thinking.”

“Are you looking to benefit from this?” Mum asked.

“No, I just want it to go to the rightful owners.”

“And who would that be?” Mum continued.

“From my conversation with Mrs. Rupert, it really belongs to the Shawnee Tribe. But we can’t just call them and tell them where it is. There would be claims of theft all over the place.”

‘Hmm,” Dad went. “Didn’t Janet Rupert say that Della Radford would like to sell the building?

“She did, it would make it easier if we owned the building when we ‘discovered’ it.”

“Della and I never got along that well, but let me call her and see what she would want for the building.”

Dad called information at United Telephone. As luck would have it my Aunt Minnie, Ross’s wife was working the switchboard, so they talked for a minute then she put him through.

Dad talked for the longest time and from the conversation, there was more involved than the Blockhouse.

Before he hung up he told her, “I will give you six thousand dollars for the whole shooting match and pay for the removal of the cabin from Russells Point and cleanup of the boathouse. I will bring the check over tomorrow if you have the titles… Okay good, I will see you after lunch.”

Dad turned and said, “I will probably have to use the bank line of credit against the rentals, but I just bought the Blockhouse, Radford’s boathouse, and all its contents.”

“Why did you do that,” Mum inquired?

“It was the only way that she would deal and if I am right we just got the better of her.”

“How’s that,” I asked.

“Rick you remember the boathouse. The business operated ten speedboats. There is an overhead crane for moving full-size automobile engines. That has to have considerable value.”

“The fuel tanks could hold over a thousand gallons. At twenty-five cents a gallon that is some money. There will also be the hulls of many boats, but most of them will be rotten.”

“Most of them,” I enquired.

“I have no idea if it is still there, but there was one hull still in its crate from the factory. But that is not the best thing. Upon the overhead, if they are still there will be ten crated Chris Craft Model K inboard engines. They alone are worth more than the entire purchase.”

“Jack, wouldn’t that be taking advantage of Della Radford?”

“She thinks she is taking advantage of me and that old witch was never nice to any of us!”

“Well true, she would talk about foreign tramps taking advantage of American G.I.’s, just close enough that I could hear her, but far enough that I could be accused of eavesdropping.”

“Besides she may have had the place emptied out and I would really be overpaying.”

“We will have the building and its contents, so now what?” asked Mum.

“We move into the blockhouse,” I remarked as innocently as possible.

“Maybe YOU should,” Mum said.

“Seriously what are we going to do with the darn thing once we have it,” Dad asked.

“Mrs. Rupert indicated that the Logan County Historical Society would love to have it.  We could donate it to them and maybe pay for the moving and needed repairs.”

I also explained about the newspaper microfiche project.

“That would work it would be a good tax deduction. We could use the Blockhouse, boathouse purchase, and newspaper project as a charitable donation and not give Eisenhower the tax money.”

Once again Dad let us know how he felt about Ike and hated giving him any money.

“We can let the Historical Society know that it was Janet Rupert’s influence that got them the Blockhouse and microfiche donation. That would be her reward.”

“You said earlier that you think the Shawnee Tribe is the rightful owner, how would you get the items to them without raising a fuss.”

“Send them pictures of the medal and letters and ask if they want them free of charge. They later can ‘discover’ them in their archives so there would be no questions that they belong to them.”

“That works, now what do you get out of it.”

“Nothing, I’m not looking for anything. If we can break even on this I will be happy. I guess that depends on what is in the boathouse.”

“We will break even with the value of the property that the boathouse sits on. The cottages on Bellefontaine Island are being either torn down and replaced or renovated. It might take a while, but we will make a profit on the deal just by holding the land. The building itself was in good shape so should have some value.”

“Now what evidence do we send the Shawnee after we have official possession,” asked Mum.

“As I said I thought photographs would work,” I replied.

Mum said nothing left the room and came back with a little package. She opened it up to reveal the smallest camera I had ever seen.

Chapter 30

“This is a Minox I had during the war. This will take good pictures of the documents. I have two rolls of film still sealed in the original package and I have kept them in the freezer as instructed.

They will be good pictures. We will have your Uncle Jimmy develop them.” Dad’s brother Jim is an amateur photographer and has his own darkroom.

We talked for another hour but it always came back to the same conclusions. The Logan County Historical Society and Janet Rupert should get something out of this. The Shawnee Tribe in Oklahoma should get the medal and letters.

We were asking for nothing directly if the boathouse turned out to be a positive purchase that would be good, but we wouldn’t cry if it wasn’t.

I read some of Scheherazade’s stories that night. She certainly could come up with cliffhangers. My version was an illustrated one by the English explorer.

Sunday had Dad and me up at Radford’s near Lewistown at two o’clock. She was a short stout woman with dark hair which highlighted her mustache. We didn’t stay very long, just long enough, for him to write a check and her to sign over the deeds and give Dad the keys to the buildings.

Even during that short of a visit, she managed to be nasty. She was nice to Dad but wanted to know if I was that Englishwoman’s child. He told her yes and let it go. She gave me a glare as though I were the snake in the Garden of Eden.

As we were leaving she said, “Jack, don’t even bother to look, I had the fuel tank drained.”

After that pleasant remark, we headed to the Indian Lake Marina. Dad had arranged for a local fisherman who ran a water taxi service for locals to run us over to Bellefontaine Island.

I asked Dad, “What is her problem. Did you dump her daughter or something?”

I was only kidding so was very surprised when he responded,

“Her daughter dumped me, but she can never remember that. I had dated Doris before I joined the service. We had even talked a little about getting married. Before we could get serious I was sent to England. We wrote back and forth for almost a year when she wrote that she had met another guy and was going to marry him.”

“Oh,” was all I could say.

Dad continued, “Luckiest thing that ever happened to me. I ended up meeting your mother. If you ever want to know what a woman will look like when she is older look at her mother. Doris looks just like Della today. When she was young her figure was what we called, svelte. Today she is just plain fat.”

This all came under the heading of information that I didn’t need.

Fortunately, the trip to the boathouse was only fifteen minutes to the dock where the waterman was waiting for us. We had rough old clothes and brought flashlights. We didn’t think we would be very long so Dick Meyers agreed to wait for us. He accompanied us to the boathouse.

Dad now had all the keys so we were able to get in with no problems. There were wooden Chris Craft boats up on cradles, but as Dad had thought all had some degree of rot and none of them looked salvageable.

Dad and Dick made an arrangement right then and there that they would come back and examine the boats in greater detail and that Dick would salvage the controls and brightwork. The engines had all been removed and were gone.

After setting aside what seemed like a ton of empty cardboard boxes we found a large wooden crate. It was stenciled 1947 17’ Chris Craft deluxe runabout. Dick rummaged around and found a crowbar.

He pried the boards off one end enough that we could see a gleaming varnished hull that had never touched the water. At Dad's direction, Dick hammered the boards back in place the best he could.

We then went upstairs. In the back row of a set of racks were ten containers. All were labeled, “Contents one Chris Craft model K 95hp six-cylinder marine engine.” Dad had hit the jackpot. The whole purchase was paid for. After meeting her I didn’t feel sorry for Mrs. Radford at all.

We then headed back to land and stopped by our Blockhouse on the way. I retrieved the box from its hiding place and we returned home.

Dinner was waiting when we got home. The stops took a lot longer than I thought they would.

After dinner, I even replaced Eddie on dishwashing duty to hurry the process up. Denny didn’t complain because he could tell something was going on. When everything was put away we opened the box. Denny had been told that this was very important and would have to remain a secret within the family.

The box contained the medal and upon closer examination, it could be nothing but the Jefferson Peace Medal. There was also a series of heavier silver and bronze ones from England and even one from France.

The letters were from every President from Washington to Harrison (General at the time). Some of the early ones were from British agents I would have to look up but one seemed to be signed by King George the third. Old Chief Blackhoof had some high-level acquaintances.

Mum laid everything out on a table cloth, except the medal. She used a piece of black fabric for contrast with the medal. She had on a pair of light cotton gardening gloves while she handled all the items. She didn’t mess around and was done taking pictures with that Minox in ten minutes. I would have to ask her where she gained that experience one of these days.

Sunday was a quiet day. After calling we went to Uncle Jim’s like a family. He was single still but was dating one lady, Wanda, fairly steady. Mum and Wanda talked while Dad and I watched Jim develop the film. He commented that he had read about this type of film, but never had seen any. He had to look up the chemicals and developing times in a book, but the pictures all came out okay.

Dad slipped him ten bucks for his time and asked him to not talk about the pictures. Of course, Jim promised to keep things quiet but wanted to know the whole story someday. We promised him as soon as we could talk about it we would. I felt comfortable that Jim would keep his promise, but wondered if he would tell Wanda and she tells the world. I realized that there was only so much I could control.

Now, all we had to do was find the address of the Shawnee Tribe in Oklahoma and make the donations to the Logan County Historical Society. We all agreed that Dad should take care of the donations. My making them would raise all sorts of questions. For Dad, the Blockhouse would just be part of a business transaction that he didn’t need and the donation a tax write off to get rid of them.

Authors Note: The Shawnee Tribe didn’t separate from the Cherokee until 1980. Even that issue is complex with multiple groups emerging. Rather than drive myself crazier than usual I separated the Shawnee much earlier and ignored the multiple groups. That is the story; give or take a lie or two.

Chapter 31

Monday was clear and cold. Most of the snow was gone. There would be ice skating again before too long. I did my indoor exercises, but no way was I going to run outside.

At breakfast, I had two bowls of porridge, orange juice, and toast with strawberry jam and about three cups of coffee. To think a month ago I couldn’t stand coffee, but now I couldn’t live without it.

Mum suggested that for my typing practice I copy each of the letters in the Blackhoof collection. If nothing else I could use them as supporting evidence in some of the papers I would be writing. She planned on calling information in Oklahoma City to see if they had a phone number for the Shawnee Tribe so she could get their headquarters address.

Mum also had another suggestion, “Rick, you should take time to be a freshman.”

“What do you mean Mum? I’m a freshman.”

“How do the kids your age spend their time?”

I thought for a moment, “Go to class, play sports, hang out, go on dates, listen to music, go to movies. Stuff like that.”

“Have you done any of those things this year?”

“I have done every one of those. Why are you asking about this?”

“Rick, part of maturing and growing is socialization, learning to get along, with your age group, then others. You are all going through changes both mental and physical. You are a very driven person and have accomplished a great deal in the last few months. But they are things that an older person would do. I’m afraid you’re missing out on your teenage years and the socialization that goes with it.”

Dad wisely sat there with his mouth shut. You could tell he had no idea of where this was going.

“Learning Spanish and typing, being far ahead in classwork, overachieving in school, and inventing things are all good. But this isn’t what kids your age are doing. They are dating and hanging around, and yes, they get into some trouble, but they are being socialized as they do those things. You act like you’re above all that, but you aren’t.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Have some friends your age. Go on dates with girls you like, not girls that are using you. Do you realize that every girl that you have gone out with except for Judy was using you for their own ends? They didn’t want you, they wanted what you represented. You are a status item.”

“How do I tell the difference?”

“Experience.”

“How do I get experience?”

“Find a girl you like and ask her out.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then you have obtained some experience.”

“What if I ask a girl out and it turns out she only said yes because I have status?”

“Then you have gained more experience.”

“Mum!”

“Rick you are proving my point. If you don’t gain this experience now while you are young it will be really painful when you’re older.”

“When I’m older I should be smarter about such things.”

“Rick the only way to get smarter is to gain experience. Your I.Q. is just your I.Q. it won’t change now. Just remember it is easier to break up with your steady girlfriend than divorce your wife. I’m not only talking about your relationships with girls. What about your relationship with boys your age? I know you walk to school and spend some time with Tom, who else?”

“No one,” I replied quietly.

“I know you relate well with adults, but you do that by giving them respect, should you give that respect to your peers?”

“The kids in my class haven’t earned that respect.”

“So you know that you have to deal with the kids in your class differently than with adults, but you don’t spend any time with them. How will you gain that experience? The adults are going to get older and go away. The kids in your class will be with you your entire life. Not them as individuals, but as a group.”

“I have never given that any thought.”

“That is all I’m asking. Think this through and decide what you’re going to do about it.”

“I will Mum, but it seems cold and calculating to ask a girl out because you want to gain experience dating.”

“That is the wonder of it, Rick, asking a girl out is like a gamble. Is she the one? You will never know unless you ask her. She will never know unless she says yes. Both sides have something at risk. For a girl, the most horrid possibility is if she falls in love and the guy turns out to be a total loser.”

“Why would anyone date with those possibilities in mind?” I asked.

“Rick, do you like to have your arms around a girl?” Mum asked with a semi-evil grin.

“I do,” I said reluctantly, I wasn’t about to say why I really liked having my arms around a girl.

“Girls like to be in a guy’s arms. That is what it is all about. Everything else is about getting the right girl in the right boy’s arms. At your age, it is hard to figure out which one is right. That is why so many kids come together for a short time they break up.

It is easier the younger you are, getting a diamond ring back is a lot harder than a class ring. That is why you need to learn the mating dance now.”

“Okay, I get the girl thing. Now, why do I have to be friends with guys my age?”

“You are already past the young boy's definition of friends where you almost live with each other. As you get older you won’t have friends like that. What you will have is a circle of men that have similar interests and whom you can call on in need.

I don’t mean to borrow money, I mean to help find a patent attorney or a new office building or a Russian translator or even move furniture.”

She continued, “You will need a circle that you have some trust in and go to as needed. The same way they will be able to come to you. That doesn’t just happen you have to work at it. Guess where you are supposed to be getting that experience right now?”

“So I need to develop those circles now?”

“NO! You need to practice now so you can do it later. It’s very doubtful that the kids you are going to school with today will be in your circles later. Just look at Jack and I. His friends from school all live in different states and mine live in different countries.”

“Mum this is a lot to think about. I will think about it and try to do something.”

“That’s all I ask, Rick. I just want what’s best for you and right now I am concerned about your relating with people your age.”

School was interesting. I looked at all the other freshmen differently. I took a long look at each of the girls wondering if I would like to date them. I looked at each of the guys reviewing what I knew about them and wondering if they could be a friend.

I looked at each of the girls and how they looked. I looked at each of the girls and thought about what I knew about them and if they were nice. I looked at each of the girls, well you get it.

One guy that I thought I would get to know better was Tom Wilson, the class clown or maybe not really the class clown. He had shown a much more serious side that I could relate to last week. I would have to spend some time talking with him.

Girls were a different problem. I was getting it narrowed down. There were now only about twenty on my shortlist. I was thinking about them in Latin class when I was called on. I had no idea where we were in the class.

I knew Miss Audie well enough to say, “Sorry, I was not paying attention.”

She replied, “That was obvious I asked you a question about fifteen minutes ago. You didn’t respond, so I held my figure to my lips to have the class be quiet. It took three questions to get your attention. Why don’t you think about it in detention tonight?”

She handed me my detention slip, which I had to return to her signed by Mr. Hurley tomorrow. Mum was right, this boy-girl stuff was hard, and it had already had me in trouble.

I even made a list in study hall. I gave each girl a rating in looks and personality as I saw them. By doing this I pared my list down to five pretty to me, girls that had at least an eight on personality. I also kept a list of all twenty girls. I wasn’t sure how to proceed from there. I was trying to be scientific.

I went to detention to spend my time. It was forty-five minutes. Five minutes into it Mr. Hurley had a student from the office show up with a note. His presence was required. He told us to keep it to a dull roar and he would be right back.

Chapter 32

So, of course, all of us set our books aside and talked to those around us. Cheryl Hawthorne was sitting next to me. I didn’t know her; she was a new transfer in. We introduced ourselves then spent the time chatting.

She was kind of cute, being tall, thin, dark-haired with the largest eyes you could imagine. Her face would be described as fine-featured with high cheekbones. She had not made my list of the twenty best looking girls because I hadn’t thought of her, but she wasn’t bad.

I asked her what she had done to get detention. It appears she was late to one of Miss Bales English classes. I told her I had been busted daydreaming in Latin. She commented at least I wasn’t just plain dreaming, she thought that must be the most boring class in school.

I told her that having Latin was turning out to be a good underpinning for Spanish as you could see where words had come from. She rattled off a phrase in Spanish.

“Do you speak it very well?”

“Not that good but a little.”

“Where are you learning it?”

I proceeded to tell her about Mrs. Hernandez. She became a little excited.

“My mother is in Spanish. Dad married her in Spain when he was stationed there in the Air Force. She would love to meet someone who can speak Spanish. Her English is pretty good, but she would love to hold an adult conversation with another woman.”

“Why don’t you bring her over to my house and I will introduce them.”

“Could we do it tomorrow?”

“I will check tonight. What is your phone number?”

“513-555-6693; let me write it down for you.” As she handed me her phone number Mr. Hurley came back into the room. The phone number was on a plain sheet of paper that she hadn’t folded so he saw it as he walked by.

Mr. Hurley shook his head and said something about fast workers.

When I returned home I planned to start the project of typing out the letters from the various Presidents, Kings, and high officials that had been written to Chief Blackhoof. They all had a common thread. We will be your friends forever. We respect your land, till the grass is no longer green and the sun doesn’t rise, and oh, by the way, can we have this little bit?

Dad used the term, “Nibbled to death by ducks.”

That is what happened to the Indians, it took two hundred years but the eastern tribes were nibbled to death.

Mum told me she had the address of the Shawnee Tribe in Oklahoma so I could write that letter anytime. I did that first. I let the photographs speak for themselves. I told the Shawnee that I had come across papers and medals by accident and gave a brief history of how it came about.

I told them that since they appeared to be the rightful owners and to avoid all the legal problems that I would prefer to hand them to the Shawnee directly.

I addressed it to, “The Office of the Chief of the Shawnee.” I had no idea what they called the head person of the tribe but this would get it to the right people. I signed the letter. I asked Mum to review it before I sealed the envelope. She thought it was fine and would get Dad to drop it off at the post office tomorrow.

I told her about Mrs. Hawthorne wanting to meet another person who really spoke Spanish and asked if she could stop over tomorrow to meet Mrs. Hernandez.

“It is fine with me, but does Mrs. Hernandez want to meet anyone? You had better ask her.”

As soon as Mrs. Hernandez arrived I asked her. You would’ve thought I had given her an extra birthday present.

“Oh yes, Rick.  I would love to talk to another woman in my native language. You don’t know how hard it is at times to be alone like I am.”

We read the Cuban newspaper. Our papers were dated. On December 19 Che Guevara’s brigade captured the city of Fomento. Mrs. Hernandez had brought a map of Cuba and we had been following Castro’s progress.

She was very concerned about the whole situation. She understood why the U.S. government had stopped supplying arms to Batista but in doing so they had opened the door to the communist Castro.

She didn’t understand why the U.S. newspapers all supported Castro when everyone knew he was a Communist. He was getting his money and arms from the communist revolutionaries who had just taken over Venezuela. She wanted Cuba to be free, not to exchange one dictator for another.

After Mrs. Hernandez left I called Cheryl and invited her and her mother over tomorrow after school to meet Mrs. Hernandez. I was looking forward to Cheryl coming over. She seemed very nice and I thought that maybe she should be on my list.

Tuesday was clear and cold, below twenty degrees, with very little wind. If this kept up we would have the best ice skating ever. The pond would have no snow and the ice would be smooth as glass, at least until we started skating on it.

There was nothing special going on at school this week other than Christmas vacation would start next week. I sat and talked to Tom Wilson at lunch. He seemed surprised when I asked him if the seat next to him was taken. As the official class clown, everyone liked Tom but kept a little distance as they didn’t want to be caught in the fallout.

“Tom, maybe you could help me sort something out. I have made a list of the attractive girls in our class and also rated them on personality. I want to ask at least one of them out on a date.”

He looked at me like I had two heads.

“Rick, I knew you were very smart from a book point of view. I just never knew how stupid you were in the real world.”

That raised my back up real quick!

“What do you mean stupid in the real world?”

“What do you think would happen if that list leaked out and it is known as your list?”

“I suppose some girls might be upset because they are not on the list.”

“Yeah, there would be some hurt because they are not on the list. The girls on the list would all be mad as hell.”

“What do you mean?”

“How many girls total in our class and how many made your list?

“There are around eighty girls and I have twenty on my list.”

“So you have hurt the feelings of sixty girls. Of the twenty on the list, only the number one girl won’t be mad at you. Of course, the rest of the girls in the class will be mad at her, so she will be mad at you because you made them mad at her.”

“I think I can follow what you just said.”

“Then there are the eighty-something boys in our class. Maybe forty of the boys will have girlfriends ragging on them about your list. The other forty won’t care one way or the other.

Now you have one hundred and twenty out of one hundred and sixty classmates angry with you. I think I would change my name and move to another town.”

“Surely you are exaggerating.”

“Well one way to find out, is to sign it and leave it here.”

“I think I will pass on that.”

“Goodman, there is hope for you yet. Why are you doing this anyway?”

So I told Tom about my different dates and how I would like to date a girl that likes me for being me.

“Oh, that’s simple. Pick a girl you would like to date and that hasn’t been nasty to you. Let me know, I will tell her best friend you would like to ask the girl out. She will give her friend her answer; the friend will tell me that it is okay for you to ask her out. I will tell you. You ask her out. You get along or don’t. Rinse and repeat till you find a keeper.”

“That seems like a game.”

“It also prevents feelings from getting hurt. What would happen if you asked a girl out and she said no?”

“I would ask another one.”

“Okay and if she said no?”

“I would ask another one.”

“You know everyone talks, word would get around that you have been rejected. Now, do you think the next girl that you ask would want to date a known reject?”

“I get your point. Thanks, Tom, you have given me a lot to think about.”

“That’s okay. Do you want your dessert?”

“Nah, I hate this gelatin stuff especially the orange.”

“I love it, thanks and see you later.”

That did give me a lot to think about. I wasn’t convinced he was right in how he described it would work. Dad wasn’t home so I asked Mum if she had a minute. She did so I explained to her my list and what Tom had said would happen. Her response was pretty strong.

“Put that list in a burn bag as quick as you can. Tom is exactly correct on how it would be viewed. He is also correct on how you safely get dates at your age. You have enough going for you that you probably could get away with a rejection or two, but I would rather you not be that arrogant.”

As they say in geometry, theory postulated, a hypothesis confirmed. I didn’t know that Mum read spy fiction, how else would she know what a burn bag was? I did tear up the list.

Right on time, Mrs. Hernandez showed up as the Hawthornes were ringing the doorbell. I performed all the introductions.

Then Cheryl and I escaped to the basement where the other kids had gathered for our Spanish class. I introduced her to the boys and Mary. She and Mary hit it off immediately. It was like they were sisters.

As we were waiting on the women upstairs, I had a chance to talk to Cheryl. She was very easy to talk to. We discussed our classes and teachers. Surprisingly we both liked Miss Bales and Mr. Hurley, two of the more unpopular teachers.

We thought they were strict but very fair. Well except for my first detention. When I told Cheryl about that she thought it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

When she was done laughing she asked me.

“Rick, who is the kid they call The Cowboy?”

Chapter 33

“I have no idea I don’t know anyone in school with that nickname.”

“Maybe I misunderstood my Dad. He is the new Commander at the airbase. He told me I could date any boy, but that blankity blank Cowboy. He was involved in some incident out at the base. It is why my Dad the Colonel is now in Command. Anyway, he said he doesn’t want me anywhere near that guy.”

Just then the ladies came downstairs, so I was saved from having to answer. The introductions had been made and phone numbers exchanged. Mrs. Hawthorne had come down to collect Cheryl. It gave me a moment to think. I knew I had to speak up. The longer I waited the worse it would be.

“Excuse me I have to tell Cheryl and Mrs. Hawthorne something.” They looked at me expectantly with no idea what I was about to say.

“No one calls me Cowboy, but I was the guy involved with that incident out at the radar station.”

Mrs. Hawthorne looked nonplussed. Cheryl just stood there stunned.

“I’m sorry I just found out that Mr. Hawthorne doesn’t want Cheryl near me.”

You should have seen the look on Mum’s face. If she had been a violent person someone might be getting ready to die.

“What do you mean,” asked Mum through gritted teeth?

“Mr. or rather Colonel Hawthorne knows a little about the problem last month out at the base and he doesn’t want her to be near the boy who was involved.”

Mrs. Hawthorne spoke up, “Jim only knows that Rick came on to the base with an unauthorized weapon and fired it.”

Mum through still gritted teeth asked, “Was he told why Rick did that?”

“No, he was told that it involved a National security matter.”

“Well, I suggest that he finds out what went on before he blackens my son’s reputation.”

I could see that this was about to go downhill fast.

“There is nothing we can do or settle here. I suggest we leave this till later when your husband can get more details of why I did what I did.”

During this very short tense conversation Cheryl had moved over by my side, it was like we were in this together. Mum relented and agreed that would be a good idea. Mrs. Hawthorne said her goodbyes and almost ran upstairs with Cheryl trailing.

Mrs. Hernandez said brightly, “That went well.”

It was too much, we broke out laughing. Denny, Eddie, and Mary had been there with their mouths open the whole time. They didn’t know what to do and they still didn’t, but they laughed with us anyway.

Mum, Dad and I talked it over after dinner. We all agreed there was really nothing any of us could do. Either the Colonel would get enough information to change his decision or he would relent anyway.

If he did great if not well it was his decision as long as he didn’t slander me. The bigger question was whether I even wanted to date Cheryl.

I found her attractive and she seemed very nice. She didn’t even know anything about me so that was a plus. I am certain that will change as she gets back to school. The next question was whether she wanted to date me. While I hadn’t known her very long she didn’t seem repulsed by me.

It would all work out or it wouldn’t. One thing I knew was none of that Romeo and Juliet stuff for me. I might pout for a while, but committing suicide was out of the question.

Wednesday was clear and cold again. Ice skating would be great if this kept up. Breakfast was hot porridge, as usual during winter. Dad gave us a quick update on his plans for the day. Jackson Housing now owned a total of four buildings with eight rental units and six of them were currently occupied. This was well ahead of our original schedule. The Simmons had settled into their unit and looked like they would be model renters.

He was finishing up painting the two empty units and hoped to have them available to rent by the end of the month. Only one of the units had needed major work. Dad went to install a shower and when he opened up the wall it had leaked and there was mold. He had to pull out a lot of the laths and replace them. That took more time than cost but it still was work.

Dad’s contracting course said that they thought that some molds could cause lung problems so he bought sick room masks at the pharmacy and wore them while pulling stuff out.  I asked him why he was concerned about his lungs all of a sudden or was he going to quit smoking. I was reminded sharply he was my Dad and I wasn’t too big for him to belt.

He also told me later he was trying to quit. It was harder to stop smoking than to stop drinking but he was trying. He was down to one pack of Lucky Strikes a day. I apologized for being out of line and he accepted it.

I walked to school with Tom from next door. He told me he heard that I had received detention again.

“How did you hear that and who would care?”

“You are kidding, right? The guy who pays for detention getting detention? That is news. Everyone thinks it’s a wonderful payback.”

“You know why my family did that.”

“Yep but it is still too funny. Besides, it proves you aren’t Ricky Perfect the Super Boy.”

“Are we going back to that crap again?”

“No,” said Tom, “but it is fun to pull your chain.”

I picked up a handful of leftover yellow snow and chased Tom to school but didn’t catch him.

School was school. I lucked into one homework assignment. In history, we had been studying the Ohio Indians and how the territory was opened up. There were several essays we could write about.

One of them on the list was how did one of the Indian factions deal with the federal government. I would use the material from the Bellefontaine Gazette as my source.

Blackhoof’s letters would probably be good for Ph.D. research. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to explain where the information came from. Maybe later after the Shawnee Tribe revealed their existence I could reference them.

Still, I had an easy slam dunk paper.

I saw Cheryl at lunchtime. She came up to me and said she was sorry about how yesterday ended. She and her mother had talked to her father and he was going to see if he could officially find out if I was a bad guy, a loose cannon or just a kid involved over his head. I was voting for in over his head. The more I thought about it, the scarier it was. What if I had hit and killed that guy or worse yet hit the dynamite and destroyed the radar?

We ate lunch with Tom Wilson, Tom Morton, and his girlfriend Tracy. Tom and Tracy had been together ever since school started. It seemed like forever but they had actually only been dating a couple of months.

Anyway, Cheryl, fit right into the group. Tom Humphry came over and tried to talk to Cheryl but she shut him down. His parting shot was. “Why are you sitting with a golf wimp? You ought to be with the real men of the football team!” She asked me if I played golf. I told her I did but the rest of the guys at the table told her I was the State of Ohio youth champion.

“My Dad loves to play golf. Maybe that is how we can get him to know you.” Now that was a good sign.

“When the weather breaks I could invite him out to the country club to play a round.”

“He would like that very much. Since he is the base commander he was given a complimentary membership but it still would be good if you and he could get to know each other. I can’t wait to tell him about your golfing.”

Tom Wilson put in, “What about his bull riding?”

I groaned but he continued, “I bet wonder boy here hasn’t told you a lot.”

I told the table, “It is all going to come out so why don’t you take her to my trophy case and fill her in on my sordid past while I go to the library.”  I saw Cheryl once more as we were changing classes but didn’t have time to talk. She just looked at me with those big eyes of hers. I swear they had gotten bigger since lunch.

After school, I walked downtown to start my Christmas shopping. I had looked at some items earlier and then talked it over with my parents, so we wouldn’t cross paths. I ended up buying each of the kids a brand new toy that was called an Etch-a-Sketch. They had one out in the store to use and it seemed really neat.

I bought Denny a Disney space ship set of plastic models to build. There were three in the set. For Eddie a Play-Doh machine since he liked working with models. There was a new doll for girls called a Barbie Doll I thought Mary might like. I also picked up a Howdy Doody TV game and a Mr. Potato Head game. They were the newest games this year and I thought it would be fun to play them in Spanish. I also purchased Mary a stuffed animal to continue a tradition. This year it was a wolf. It was a friendly-looking wolf, not a scary one.

Mum and Dad were the difficult ones. I solved both at once. I stopped by Dr. Costin’s office. I was lucky and he was able to spare me a minute. I explained that my parents had been discussing joining the country club and that I would like to pay their initiation fees and the first year. He had an application in the office. I had a blank check in my wallet which had been signed by Dad for emergencies. I filled out the application in my Dad’s name and wrote the check.

When everything was filled out he told me they had a board meeting on Saturday afternoon and that he would put them up for a vote at that time. He saw no problem with them getting in.

When I made it home it was the usual routine, typing, Spanish, typing out Spanish words. Mary kept asking me what I was giving her for Christmas so I told her I had bought her a wolf. She didn’t believe me. It appears I don’t have a good track record of telling my brothers and sister what their Christmas gifts were. Actually, I was notorious for just plain lying!

Dinner was fun. We had a winter picnic. We roasted hot dogs in the fireplace. There were also marshmallows. We had tried hamburgers once but they didn’t do too well on a stick over the fire. Mum had made one of her wonderful potato salads. That along with baked beans and we were ready to go to the beach.

I started a new book tonight. I had read the whole series several times but I really like it. I loved the little things in the story. My hero had left his pocket watch hanging on Lord Nelson’s casket. He never had an opportunity to retrieve it. I know it is a story, but I like to think that if Nelson’s tomb was opened the watch would be there. I think it was cool that my sailor had also learned Spanish.

Chapter 34

Thursday was a day at school. Time crawled as we were coming up on Christmas vacation and all the students were tired of school. I think the teachers were tired of school also or at least tired of the students.

I sat at what was becoming a regular table of Tom Morton, Tracey, Tom Wilson, Cheryl and I. Tom Wilson kept us in stitches but I noticed that his humor was never directed to hurt anyone.

It was mostly self-deprecating. I wondered if it was a compensation method. He would depreciate himself before others could. I knew I wasn’t the most secure person around but I was glad I wasn’t that far gone. I even mentioned it to him indirectly.

“Tom you have a lot going for you that people never see but you always downplay that and emphasize your weaknesses.”

“I do?”

“You do. Quit being a smart-aleck in class one day and play it straight. It would help the grades you need for college and I know there are several girls that think you are good looking but are put off by your attitude.”

“What girls?”

Fortunately, this was the new Rick.  I had thought it through before I opened my mouth.

“Who is that girl on the end riser in music class?”

“You mean Tammy Woodstock?”

“Yeah, her,” I replied.

Actually, there were about five cute girls on end risers in music class. I had just let him select the one he wanted.

“Tom, you will have to show her your serious side before you will get anywhere.”

“I’m now a man on a mission. She is going to be impressed with the new improved serious Tom.”

“Good luck.”

I then dropped the subject and turned to Cheryl. I asked in Spanish how she was doing. She replied that she was fine and that I was a good guy for what I was doing for Tom. She then updated me on her Dad’s attempts to find out what had gone on out at the base.

He had attempted to interview everyone that was involved that night. They had all been transferred out. He was beginning to realize that something big had gone down. He reviewed the radar logs and saw that jets all over North America had been scrambled to head off incoming Tu-95 Soviet bombers.

Many of the radar systems of the DEW line had gone down and Campbell’s Hill had carried the load that night.

She shared that with me in Spanish so the other kids didn’t know what we were talking about. I was impressed with how much better my Spanish was getting. I could follow her. I had to think of a lot of words that I wanted to use, but I was really beginning to understand conversational Spanish.

We didn’t talk about dating or seeing each other. Lunch would be it unless her Dad relented. I was hoping he would relent soon as Cheryl was looking more attractive to me all the time. The great thing was she just accepted me. She didn’t talk about the things I had done.

At home, we used our Spanish lesson to string buckeyes for Christmas decorations. Mrs. Hernandez had never seen a buckeye, so it was fun. Of course, Eddie and Denny had to make conkers. This was where you drill a small hole through the buckeye and put a thread through it. Tie the thread off and swing your buckeye trying to break your opponent’s.

I think the name conkers came from what always happens. Denny was over-enthusiastic and hit Eddie in the head. He got conked, this, of course, led to cries and wailing. Mum came running downstairs. When she found out what went on, she gave a lesson on how to conk, without hitting your opponent in the head.

She also told Eddie to belt up, he played the game, and he took the hits. Quit whinging. I really wondered at times where my Mum obtained her attitude.

We also made paper chains from construction paper. Christmas decorations at our house were mostly a do it yourself project.

I read more on my naval hero. I thought fire ships must have been about as nasty an item used in the Napoleonic wars. I did wonder if the Spanish always treated their prisoners that well. I suspected not.

Friday was the last day before the holidays. When I went to homeroom there was a note to go to the office. I wondered what I was in trouble for now. It wasn’t that at all. Dr. Costin left me a note. He had found out that they needed Dad’s signature on the Country Club application. My surprise wouldn’t happen. I thought about it and thought what the heck. It’s the thought that matters right?

After school, I went straight home. Both my parents were there so I explained to them how I had attempted to surprise them with a country club membership but that it needed Dads’ signature.

He signed and said, “It is the thought that counts.”

“I am going to drop this off at Dr. Costin’s office right now. They will be able to vote on it tomorrow.”

At that I started to head out, Mum added.

“Bundle up or you will catch your death.”

I rode my bike down the hill. The roads were clear but man was it cold. A quick turnaround at the Doctors office and I headed home. It wasn’t into the wind but it was uphill. I didn’t catch my death, but I think I was on its heels by the time I returned home.

That night I reread that graphic description of cutting someone's leg off. It was totally fascinating but gruesome. What hit me is to learn how to do that they must have cut off a lot of legs.

Saturday was a nice day, so Dad and I left for Dayton trying to arrive at lunchtime. We had been invited for lunch and were told that the sutlers would be set up and ready for business. Colonel Tolson had sent us a map with directions so we should be able to find the place.

We found it with no problem. They had set up in a field next to a secondary road. It was easy to tell when we arrived because cannon had just fired. Between the noise and the cloud of smoke, there was no question that this was a civil war unit. It also helped that there were two Union soldiers on guard duty at the entrance. They had our names on a list so we were admitted. The sergeant, who I recognized from his stripes, told us that this wasn’t a public event but people kept trying to join them.

After parking the car in the field near the tents, it was easy to find Colonel Tolson. He was at a large headquarters tent with flags in front. He welcomed Dad and me and gave us a tour of the campsite. They had troops doing close order drill. Dad chuckled at that.

“Some things have never changed.”

We walked over to the cannon firing line. They had two cannons in what they called a battery. They had wagons with them that they called caissons. These were for the cannonballs, gun powder, and other supplies. I now knew what caissons rolling along meant in the song we sang in music class.

I didn’t see any cannonballs and asked about that. The Colonel laughed.

“We wouldn’t dare fire any around here. They go for more than a mile and then would go through a house front to back. There is a place we can fire over in eastern Ohio, one of the old strip mines. It is the only safe place in the state.”

“We don’t use cannonballs either, they are too expensive. We have found that a cement-filled beer can work perfectly.”

I wondered what Generals Grant and Lee would have thought of that.

We had lunch with the group. I had read enough about the civil war to expect a meal of hardtack, pork, half raw potatoes, and chicory coffee. Instead, we had cheeseburgers, hotdogs, and French fries. I asked, and was told that they reenact the battles, not the meals!

They would do one of the meals the old way on occasion, but unlike the civil war their wives accompanied them to the field and wouldn’t put up with poor food or bad cooking.

The men were on kitchen police duty which meant they cleaned up after the women cooked. Again I wondered what Grant and Lee would have thought of that.

I have introduced around to almost everyone in camp. I noticed that the only kids there my age were children of reenactors. They were dressed in uniform and learning to march and later to fire their weapons. Looking at the older men who seemed hard-bitten and the fresh-faced boys I had a strange feeling I was looking at one of the many faces of war.

They were all nice, but I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of a firing line. How long would it take those fresh faces to become like their fathers?

Dad talked to a few of the enlisted men at lunch. He found that to a man they were World War II veterans.  He asked how they could stand to be in uniform again.

“Jack we just do the good parts. It’s like a play. We don’t even use fake blood.”

Dad nodded and smiled, apparently he had been thinking of the bad parts, which he never talked about.

It made me think back to Bill Samson. I could see that men had many different ways of coping or not coping with war. I wondered if any of them had faced Normandy Beach like Mr. Samson, but knew better than to ask.

I felt slightly unsettled by my thoughts after lunch but quickly shook it off. My attention was caught by two girls about my age in a period costume. I had thought those old dresses were ugly. They may be ugly, but those girls wearing them were sure cute!

They were looking my way and both smiled so I walked over and introduced myself. They were Cindy and Barbara, daughters of two reenactors.

They told me it was traditional for them to come to the Christmas outing but this year was boring because there were no boys their age until I showed up. I asked them what grade they were in.

Cindy told me she was a freshman and Barbra was a sophomore both at Ohio State. I gulped but sadly informed them there were still no boys their ages. I was a freshman in high school. They laughed at their error, but soon found a reason to move on.

The Colonel took us over to one of the sutlers who had stacks of uniforms. He introduced us and told them I was to be a brevet lieutenant so outfit me as an officer. I was convinced to buy two shirts and pairs of pants but only one hat and tunic.

The tunic had shiny brass buttons. I was provided shoulder tabs for the tunic which demonstrated my rank and army affiliation. There was also a 6th OVI pin that went on my officer’s hat.

The shoes were handmade and were actually a pretty good fit. I wouldn’t care to go for miles in them but they would look authentic in camp. It all came to seventy-seven dollars.

We went to a different sutler for my weapons. What every teenage boy needs; weapons! For a sidearm, I bought an 1860 Colt Army black powder pistol. It was a .44 caliber. To think this pistol was almost one hundred years old.

The sutler also had the powder, ball, and patches to load. That and a cleaning kit came to ninety dollars. He had a beautiful almost mint condition 1850 foot officer’s sword for sale. It cost me eighty dollars but was worth every penny. I purchased a red sash to hang it from.

Altogether I had spent almost two hundred and fifty dollars but was very happy with my purchases. After talking it over with Colonel Tolson I decided to pass on such camp items as a housewife or a bedroll. If I ever became serious about reenacting I would need those camp items but could pass for now.

The Colonel was surprised that I had spent as much money as I had and that Dad had never said a word. Dad took him aside and explained a little about my making money and that I even had a movie coming up with John Wayne.

That caused a change in attitude. He wanted to know about the time period the movie was set in and if any Union soldiers were in the script. I told him that I had a Nondisclosure Agreement with the studio and couldn’t talk about the script, but that I didn’t think any soldiers would be involved.  He respected that and left the subject.

I had not changed back into my civilian clothes choosing to keep the uniform on. As we were heading towards the car I heard,

“Hey, soldier, looking for a good time?”

It was Cindy and Barbara. They laughed as they waved goodbye.

Dad commented, “I see you have several admirers.”

“They are in college so they are just teasing.”

“Hmm, wish I had been teased like that.”

“Dad,” I squeaked!

“Gottcha,” he grinned.

As we drove home he told me he would really be glad when I obtained a driver’s license. If he had his way I could start driving tomorrow. He was getting tired of driving me around.

One thing led to another and the next thing you know I was driving us home. I made the car jump around a bit using the clutch but after a while, it seemed natural.

I had to think about what I was doing when shifting but only ground beef once.  I asked if he was worried about my not being old enough, for a learner's permit. He told me that since I would be fifteen and a half in April not to worry as long as I was with him.

The police were lenient with parents teaching their children to drive in farm country. It was different in the big cities as there was too much traffic. I wasn’t to try this with any friends even if they had a license. I told him I wouldn’t and meant it.

Dad continued, “If there was a way to get you a hardship driver’s license I would. Since I would have to die for that to happen I will pass.”

I agreed with that thought wholeheartedly. I drove us home without wrecking or making Dad a nervous wreck so he told me that I would have more opportunities in the near future.

I would be taking Mum grocery shopping.

“Why doesn’t she drive?” I inquired.

“She doesn’t drive, not that she can’t. She has a license and actually is a very good driver. Think about it, I was there to drive her or had the car with me at work. If we had two cars, like rich people, she would be driving everywhere.”

That started me to thinking maybe we could afford a second car. I wondered if she would like a red and white 1956 Bel Air Chevy convertible. Well, I could dream.

When we returned home the kids were all impressed with my new gear. Of course, Denny and Eddie wanted to sword fight. I let them hold it, but wouldn’t let them wave it around. The blade had never been sharpened, but it could still do damage.

I had asked about sharpening and was told that was up to the officer’s preference. The reason was gruesome. A sharp blade might hang up on bone. A dull blade could be used to break bones and beat someone to death. Not an image I wanted in my mind.

I read again that night. This time it was the Spanish Main and treasure. He married, but you could tell that it wouldn’t last. He was destined for great things and the English class system wouldn’t accept her. It still was sad that she died.

Sunday was ice skating most of the afternoon. I spent as much time by the fire as on the ice. Skating even with figure skates is hard on the ankles at the start of the skating season. It wasn’t bad duty.

Cheryl and I skated around holding hands. We then sat next to the fire with her cuddled up to me. The city park people had set up an urn of hot chocolate so many kids were in and out all day long. It was really a fun day.

Chapter 35

Why does time stand still while you are going to class and flies when you are on Holiday? Another thing that is unfair is that on Holiday you can sleep in all you want, but I keep waking up at my normal time.

Once I was up and had done my exercises life did slow down. I sat and talked to Mum and Dad. We discussed my patents and how we just had to be patient. We went over the rental situation. It was coming along nicely. Apparently, there had been a dearth of good rental properties in town. As fast as Dad could get one ready someone was moving in.

The phone rang off the hook that morning. Well, we received three phone calls. Mum took the first call. She handed the receiver to Dad and told him it was Jingles Meyer.

I asked her, “Who is Jingles Meyer?”

She told me he was the water taxi driver who took me to the boathouse.

He was introduced as Dick Meyer to me. “Why is he called Jingles?”

“If you’re around him very much you would know. He has a nervous habit of jingling the change in his pocket. It will drive you to distraction.”

When Dad hung up he told us it was good news. Dick Meyer had unpacked the new Chris-Craft boat hull and it was in perfect condition. If we put one of the engines in the good hull the whole boat would sell for four thousand dollars.

He had managed to salvage the controls and gages from the old boats and they might be worth five hundred dollars to someone rebuilding boats. The hulls sitting there were rotten, from not being cleaned before storage, and would have to be taken to the scrap yard or burned.

The crates with engines in them had never been unpacked. Dick had gone to a boat dealer and looked up their cost in a catalog. They sold new for six hundred dollars apiece. He figured we could get four hundred dollars each at least.

At the dealer, he visited he described the chain hoist in the building. The dealer said he would give one thousand for it if it really worked. There were also tools and welding gear in the back room which must be worth another five hundred.

All in all, we were ahead of the game. The only question was whether or not to keep the boat. It wasn’t really a question because we were all for it. Dad told us he was going to give Dick several hundred dollars for his efforts. From the way Dad called him Dick and Mum Jingles, I knew who was driven to distraction.

The next phone call was for me. It was Doctor Costin. My Dad's application for the country club had been approved. He had the temporary family membership cards at his office and would leave them with the receptionist for my pickup. He also suggested we plan on going to the New Year’s Eve party. I told him I would talk it over with my parents.

We discussed it and they decided they would like to go. That meant a new suit for Dad, a new cocktail dress for Mum. They decided that I should go with them but they would get a baby sitter for the other kids. If Mrs. Hernandez was back in time she would be perfect if she wanted the job.

This brought up another subject.

“Rick you know that we haven’t attended an organized church since we moved to Ohio,” Dad began. “There were reasons then but things are changing. I hate to be cynical but with the housing business it would be best if we were seen in a church.”

I didn’t remember ever living anyplace but Ohio.

Mum broke in, “Your Dad never attended church as a child. I am Church of England. The closest they have to that here is the Episcopalian.  I talked to the priest when we first moved here and when he found out that your father had never attended church on a regular basis he wanted to know if Jack knew how to act in church.”

“I am afraid I said some un-Christian things to him. I also told him that if Jack could have you baptized in a real church like the Church of England with Princess Elizabeth and General Eisenhower present then he would know how to act in his Jonnie come lately religion. That ended any chance of us attending that church.”

“We didn’t miss it but now is the time for business reasons to attend church. It will do the younger children well. At least I have seen you reading the bible, so you have a general idea of what it is all about.”

“Jack and I talked to Pastor Bowers at the Lutheran Church. He seems nice and that church is one thing the Huns have done right.”

With Mum, the Germans will always be the Huns and let’s don’t even talk about the French.

“To make a long story short the family is joining the Lutheran Church here in town. We are going to Christmas Eve services to make our first appearance. That will get us lost in the crowd but some people will recognize us so we don’t feel so strange the following Sunday. You are old enough that if you don’t want to go every week we understand, but we would appreciate your support at the start.”

How could I say no to that?

“Of course Mum I will be there, with bells on.”

She just shook her head. With bells on meant I would be dressed up. Taken in the context of Dad not knowing how to behave in Church it had a different take.

“Mum, I do get confused about this whole religious thing, it is supposed to be good, but there has been so much wrong done in the name of religion.”

“Rick it is more than I want to get into right now, but think. An organized church is different than a religion. Religion is a belief system. An organized church is a method of facilitation of that belief and its sub-tenets.”

“Sub-tenets,” I inquired?

“If you believe you should help others, then the organized church facilitates that help by running a soup kitchen. Now you can have good or bad religions and good or bad organizations, and of course, they never are purely good or bad, they have to be rated on a scale.”

“How would you do that?”

“Well a religion that only believes that its members will go to its version of heaven might be described as bad to a certain degree, but it would be nothing compared to a religion that believed its members would get to heaven by cutting out the living hearts of children.”

“I see what you mean, but no religion would do that!”

“What did the Aztecs do, not to get to heaven, but to appease an angry God?”

“Oh,” I said softly.

“That is the belief system, now how that organization is used is another thing. As an example, the Catholic Church has done many good things, but it also sponsored the Spanish Inquisition.”

“Rick, the last thing to consider is the efficiency of the organization. A small-town church that exists only for the life of its preacher is certainly different in its efficiency from the Catholic Church which has been worldwide for thousands of years.”

“Your father and I have always been more concerned with teaching our children basic right from wrong rather than organizational requirements or religious dogma. And no, I’m not going to discuss what is right or wrong or what may be basic about it.”

“Thanks, Mum, that all helps... I think.”

I could see that I would have to really give some thought to this religious deal, but for right now I would be happy to treat our new church with respect and consider it an act of fitting into the community.

The last call was the most exciting. Again it was for me. It was an Alex Redfoot from the Shawnee Indian Tribe. He had received my letter and was very excited about what the pictures showed. We discussed the details of what I had found and where I found them.

He knew nothing about the theft reported in the Bellefontaine Gazette and thought that might explain the mystery of where everything went. It was doubtful we would ever know who the thief was.

He was very interested in why I wanted to give them to the Shawnee. They were worth a lot of money if I sold them. I told him that the money wasn’t really an issue. My only concern was to get them in the hands of the rightful owners. He asked me what the tribe could do for me in turn.

I told him that I wasn’t looking for anything. I would just be happy to get the medals and letters where they belonged. I explained that I had read so much on Chief Blackhoof that I felt like I knew him and that he would want these to go to the Shawnee. He had been a selfless worker for the tribe his entire life and I respected that.

The soonest he could get to Bellefontaine was January 6th. After a quick check with Mum and Dad, it was fine with us.

After lunch, I went to the ice pond. It was across the street from the tennis courts at Mary Rutan Park. They had been talking about putting a municipal swimming pool there for years but nothing ever happened. I doubted that it would.

I went home and did my typing as usual. Mrs. Hernandez was visiting relatives in Miami for the Holidays so we had no formal Spanish class. Out of habit we kids met together at the regular time and played Monopoly, but only spoke Spanish as we put in our daily practice. Mary insisted on being the banker.

I noticed she never ran out of money no matter what. I finally took her aside and asked her if she wanted to win so badly that she had to cheat.

She said, “Yes, you boys always beat me and I want to win for once.”

I told her she could do it this one time.

Denny and Eddie had good properties and were pretty cocky about how they were going to win. It worked out well. Mary won for once and the two brats lost. Now I had to be careful and never let her get away with that again.

That evening I was sailing the Sutherland in my book.

Chapter 36

Tuesday the weather streak continued clear and cold. The ice at the skating pond yesterday had been like glass. Now it was all marked up by ice-skates, but it didn’t have those little ridges from snow and wind.

Denny and I went over right after lunch with the intention of spending the day at the ice pond. We walked to the pond with our skates slung over our shoulder. Denny had a family hockey stick and a puck. It was the family stick because it was the only one we had and we all shared it.

If the truth be known hockey was not a Bellefontaine sport it was just something to do on the ice. There were no goals at the pond. Denny might be the only kid there with a stick. The others would use their hands. They still had a lot of fun and it involved a lot of falling down.

There were no city workers here. The city worker who watched the place in the evening didn’t come till after dinner every night. He worked his day job at the city then was paid overtime for his evening work. I heard someone say that the only reason he was there was that the mayor’s wife remembered what she did in the evenings in that little shed.

We were there for about half an hour and a guy I didn’t know showed up on a red Moped. He rode out on the ice and did donuts. He kept going around and chasing the little kids and scaring them. I skated towards him to have a word, but before I could get there he hit a rough patch of ice and went over. It was ugly. His right leg was trapped under the scooter and he was screaming like a banshee.

I quickly took charge and had two seniors lift the bike off him. His ankle had become pinned under the bike then bent. He had a compound fracture with the bone sticking out of the skin. He wasn’t bleeding, so no major veins had been torn. You could see the white of the cartilage.

He was wearing standard low cut shoes. His sock had been shredded and was the only reason I could see the damage. Undoubtedly there were fibers in the wound that would need to be cleaned out, but I knew enough first aid to know what I had to do. Send for help and treat for shock.

The Barnett twins were standing there watching. I asked them if they had their bikes. They did. I gave them each a dime and told them to ride to the gas station across from the Dairy Queen and call for an ambulance.

Bill Barnett asked what number they should dial. I told them to dial zero for the operator. She would get them to the hospital ambulance service. They took off like the devil was on their heels.

I then asked Mary Giles to check the shed for any blankets or if anyone who had driven had some in their car. The kid with the busted ankle was trying to move so I informed him he had to stay put. Help was on the way and we were getting blankets.

He said, “Good, my butt is getting cold.”

We’ll get you warm in a minute.

“I don’t need that I will just right the bike and ride home.”

Then it struck me the guy had not seen his ankle and didn’t understand how bad it was. He would certainly go into shock.

I asked him his name. “Sam Butler”

“Where do you live Sam,” I asked.

I was trying to keep him engaged until help arrived.

“We are new to the area. I live out on Ludlow Road.”

“I know the area. How far out?”

“Right outside the city limits, it’s just past Dr. Irwin’s veterinary clinic.”

About that time Mary returned with a stack of blankets. She must have collected six of them.

With the help of two other guys, we lifted him without moving his ankle around too much. At least he didn’t scream in agony. Mary then wrapped the blankets around him. His pupils were dilated. If not in shock he was going fast.

“Sam do you know your telephone number.”

He gave it to me. Fortunately, Mary Giles had a pencil and paper with her and wrote it down.

“Sam, I will call your parents while they take you to the hospital.”

“Why do I have to go to the hospital?”

“Sam you have broken your ankle pretty badly.”

At that, he tried to look, but I gently kept him from leaning over to see. I could hear the ambulance siren in the distance. Another three minutes and the ambulance people were there. They didn’t mess around after one quick look they had him on a wheeled stretcher and out of there.

About that time Sergeant Woodruff of the Bellefontaine Police showed up. He homed in on the scene.

“What happened?” he asked in general.

About six kids started to talk.

He pointed at one, “You first.”

He had a little notebook out and wrote each kid's name down along with their phone number. He also took down Sam Butler's name as the driver of the Moped. Everyone made a point that he was chasing people and acting crazy on the bike.

When it was Mary Giles's turn we found out her family didn’t have a telephone yet. I knew that a lot of people hadn’t put them in yet, but I was surprised her family didn’t have one because they weren’t poor. The sergeant wrote down her address instead.

Everyone was telling him the exact same story so he stopped that line of questioning.

“Okay, I see someone had him wrapped in blankets for shock what other treatment was he given?”

At that point, everyone looked at me.

“Sergeant there wasn’t anything we could do at the scene, without making it worse. I looked at it and didn’t touch, or turn anything.”

“Good job, I’ve seen more damage done by people trying to help than you can imagine. Now, who made the phone call, whoever called gave the information and hung up before they heard his name.”

Bill Barnett and his twin Bob were standing right there so they waved their hands and told the Sergeant it was them. Since they were nine years old they deserved a little slack.

“Good job on the call, it is a good thing you made it.”

Bob spoke up, “Ricky gave us dimes and sent us to make the call. He even told us to dial the operator.”

The Sergeant didn’t say anything but did look at me and nod his head.

“Now I have to get to the hospital and find out the kid's phone number.

Mary spoke up, “I have it right here, Rick had me write it down.”

The Sergeant looked at Mary and said, “Busy little beaver isn’t he?”

That could have been nasty but it wasn’t. He was smiling when he said it.”

“Sam is lucky that Rick knew what to do.”

“Rick, how did you know what to do?

“Boy Scouts first aid training.”

Denny spoke up then, “He is getting his Eagle next month.”

The Sergeant shook my hand and said, “Welcome to the club I earned mine before the war. Of course, it was a lot harder in those days!”

I guess I had a funny look on my face because he burst out laughing.

“I always wanted to use that line. I don’t think the Scouting program has changed at all.”

He picked up the Moped and started wheeling it to his cruiser.

As he wheeled it away he said, “I will call the parents and let them know what happened. Good job everyone.”

A couple of us helped him lift the Moped into the police cruiser trunk.

Just as the Sergeant climbed into his cruiser, George Weaver from the Bellefontaine Examiner showed up. The Sergeant didn’t stop for him. He just waved as he drove away.

Mr. Weaver looked around and made a beeline to me.

“Okay, Rick what are you involved with this time.”

I gave him my best Charlie Brown voice and said, “Whys everybody always pickin on me?”

He chuckled and then asked, “Seriously what happened.”

I told him about Sam Butler breaking an ankle by tipping his bike on the ice.”

“What sort of fool would ride a Moped on the ice?”

“Sam Butler?”

Mary Giles was standing there and she broke in with, “Rick is the hero he knew what to do.”

Mr. Weaver looked at me, “What did you do?”

“Sent for help, wrapped him in blankets. Not much. You don’t mess around with a compound fracture. He may never walk right. Anything I would’ve done would make it even worse. So I really did nothing.”

“You never do Rick, you never do.”

‘This isn’t going to be in the paper is it?”

“Probably just in the day’s report of ambulance runs.”

Mary broke in, “You should have Ricks picture in the paper!”

Mary was a couple of years behind me in school. I think she was in the seventh grade. She was as cute as a button but I think I was seeing a case of hero-worship or worse yet infatuation.

“Thanks for the kind thought Mary but having your picture in the paper isn’t always a good thing. It might look good, but not all people see it that way.”

Mr. Weaver speaking from his years of experience said, “You’ve got that right.”

You could see that Mary wasn’t buying it. I would have to watch myself around her. Of course, when I was a senior she would be a sophomore. Yes, I had better watch myself. I wonder what she would look like after she attained her growth and filled out.

That event took the fun out of the day so Denny and I went home. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading. Today I was sailing aboard HMS Lydia. I had read the books so many times I wasn’t worried about reading them in order.

Besides, I wouldn’t have to worry about the author’s continuity error. In the second book whose events occurred after the first book, he had my sailor five years younger than in the first book.

I suspect that was a calculated decision made after the success of the first book. This way the sailor’s career and advancements could be in wartime.

Chapter 37

Christmas Eve, I woke to light snow. We would have a white Christmas. I couldn’t help it. I put my White Christmas album on the stereo. I didn’t turn it up very loud, but while I did my exercise it put me in the mood.

Dad fixed pancakes for breakfast. It was one of the few times of the year we had the traditional breakfast food for breakfast, usually, they were for dinner. We also had bacon, eggs, toast, orange juice and coffee for those who wanted it. It was one of our family traditions.

We also gathered in the living room and put the last touches on the Christmas tree. Other families had theirs up and decorated for weeks. We had the bulbs and lights on, but we now strung the construction paper chains, the buckeye ropes and popcorn strings we had made.

Mum hung the aluminum icicles that she insisted on calling chaff. She really made me wonder at times. Dad performed the finishing touch of putting the angel on top of the tree. Mary plugged in the lights and we now had the official Jackson family Christmas tree. It was beautiful.

It kept snowing lightly all day. Since the ground was frozen, by ten o’clock everything was covered. We had two inches of fluffy powder by noon. Denny and Eddie bundled up and took off with a broom and shovel.

Mum had given strict orders that they were to clear the steps and sidewalks of Mrs. Cobain’s and Ferguson, both widows and friends of the family and to take no money. Then they were free to make as much as their little capitalist hearts desired.

I did our driveway and walks. I thought about going back to the house with my handheld out, but then decided I like having a hand.

We loafed around all afternoon. I thought about taking the time to sew all the patches and badges on my scout uniforms which had arrived, but decided I wasn’t up to that. There was something like eleven different items to be attached.

At least I wasn’t in a leadership position anymore so that was one less badge to sew on. Now that was interesting, at one time I wanted to be a leader so bad and was so proud when I made it, now it was one less badge to sew.

Church service was at five o’clock. Services would last for about one hour then there was a potluck dinner afterward. Mum was told not to bring anything, so she only baked a cake. I’m sure there is a rulebook somewhere.

We all dressed a little early. Mum and Dad looked very professional middle class in their new outfits. I thought I looked spiffy in my newest suit and tie. I had also picked up a dress overcoat on my trip to Lazarus and a new hat.

The coat was a Chesterfield in a black herringbone with a plush velvet collar. The hat a black Homburg and my gloves were a pair of thin black leather driving gloves. My shoes were black Florsheim Imperial wingtips. I had thought about a cane, but that might have been over the top.

It really felt good dressing like an adult. The seniors at school dressed like this every chance they could. I should do the same. For freshmen dressing up was khaki pants, a white shirt with a buttoned-down collar and a vee neck sweater. It really helped if they were all clean.

We arrived at church a little late and it turned out a good thing we did. The church was standing room only. After we stacked our coats and hats on a table since all the hooks were taken in the cloakroom we stood along the wall.

The reason it was a good thing we were late was that there were two groups, those that came every Sunday and had their regular places to sit. Just like in school if we didn’t have assigned seating we would sit anywhere, but from then on that is where we would sit.

The other group only came on Easter and Christmas. Since this was a special event for them they would show up early to get seats. The regulars would show up at the normal time thinking their seats would be available. I’m not sure if the looks exchanged or comments muttered were a sin or not. If they were half the congregation was on its way to hell.

I was really surprised to see Cheryl Hawthorne and her mother Cynthia. The man with them in the uniform of a full colonel in the U.S. Air Force must be her father, Jim. I should’ve worn my cowboy hat.

The service went well. The scripture read was the Christmas Story. The sermon was how mankind always has hope. The music was the best part. When four hundred people sing, “Joy to the World the Lord has come,” you have to feel something. Mary became tired so Mum took her out to the lobby.

At the end of the service, Dad went out to the car to retrieve the cake for the dinner. We met Mum and Mary coming out of a classroom that had been set up for tired kids. Mary was now wide awake and had made two new friends.

When we went downstairs we were all encouraged to sit at a table. Cheryl and Cynthia were waving us over. They had saved seats for us. There would be nine of us at a ten-person table. Cheryl introduced me to her father. It was maneuvered around that I sat between him and Cheryl.

We shook hands. At least he didn’t deck me. Though after I had that thought I realized I was probably six inches taller and forty pounds heavier. It would’ve taken him a lot of decking!

We were just sitting down when a voice came over the indoor loudspeaker. An airman in class A uniform was standing at the microphone.

He said, “Colonel I have an urgent report from the radar station.”

My heart sank I remembered the last time something urgent happened out there.

He continued, “Radar operators have identified an incoming flight from the North.”

I felt even worse. Would it be Tu-95 Bears with nuclear weapons?

“It appears to be a sled being pulled by eight tiny reindeer.”

I thought I was going to throw up the relief was so intense. Mum, Dad and I exchanged quick looks. Dad shook his head slightly.

The place went into an uproar, every kid in the room was dancing and yelling, like it was Christmas Eve and Santa was on the way or something.

I looked up and Cheryl’s Dad was looking at me. He had a very satisfied look on his face.

He leaned over and whispered, “That must have been some night out at the base. I still can’t find out exactly what happened, though I’m beginning to get an idea.”

“Sir I have been requested not to discuss any of those events unless directed by the Department of Justice.”

“That’s the only way you didn’t end up in jail. The FBI and Air Force blew it, now it has been buried deep.”

“Sir, you are putting me in a bad position.”

“I know it son and it will stop right here. It was driving me crazy, Tom Manning is a good officer, he would really have had to do something wrong to get relieved of his command. Not having the troops armed is one thing. Not having them armed when it was needed is another.”

“He and everyone involved was transferred out to places where I couldn’t contact them. They are in Greenland or Alaska. You can tell some fencing has been replaced. There are brand new signs up that state no unauthorized weapons are allowed on base. I won’t push you on this, but it looks like you did a whole lot more right than wrong that night.”

I turned away to face Cheryl. I had to end this conversation! She had been listening to our exchange.

Speaking to her Dad she said, “Mom and I were right, he is okay.”

Now it was the Colonels turn to bail out of a conversation, “We will talk at home.”

Fortunately, just then the airman in uniform joined us at the table as our tenth person.

The Colonel told him, “Well done.”

The Colonel introduced Jim Markus to us. It turned out Jim attended church here on a regular basis so the Colonel asked him to participate with the announcement. I had to wonder what the Colonel had in mind when he set it up. He couldn’t have known we would be there, could he?

A few minutes later Mum was talking to Cynthia Hawthorne and

I heard her say, “I am so glad I called you earlier today. I didn’t realize how hot it would get in here. We would have been so overdressed.”

I guess you don’t get to be a full Colonel by being stupid.

We all filed through the dinner line and helped ourselves to all the food. I went back twice and then had a big slice of apple pie for dessert. Next, Santa was on the agenda. All the kids were given a present.

I was kind of surprised to still be considered a kid. I received a small fingernail file kit. Every kid over age thirteen was given the same type of kit. Are they trying to tell us something?

Cheryl asked me if I was going caroling with the youth group.

I gave a quick look to Dad and he nodded yes, so I told her, “Of course.”

She squealed like girls tend to do and said, “Oh good we have all the regular carols and we thought we would do some goofy stuff like, ‘Rock and Roll Cowboy.”

“You have to be kidding me. Have I been set up?”

“Big-time buster,” she said with a smile.

“I have come to hate that song and regret ever doing it.”

The Colonel started roaring, “You’re that Ricky Jackson?”

He was laughing so hard that I thought or hoped that he might choke

Cheryl looked at her Dad who was still sputtering.

“Daddy, I’m sure that Ricky will be glad to take you out and play golf someday. He could really use your help with his game.”

He nodded, but now looked confused. Heck, I knew the inside stories and I was getting confused.

Cheryl and I edged our way out. Mum asked what time I would be home. Cheryl told her it would only be a couple of hours at the most.

We had fun caroling and didn’t sing that song.

We were only out for an hour then spent half an hour having a hot chocolate at our last stop which was at one of our group's homes. By the time I walked Cheryl home and gave her a very light goodnight kiss I returned home in exactly two hours.

Mum made the comment, “I think I like that girl. She keeps a good time.”

I responded, “I like her also.”

We had the kid's Christmas exchange before we went to bed. We did this so those presents wouldn’t get lost in the morning rush. It also took some of the edges off of the excitement.

Mary loved the stuffed wolf toy I gave her. I wondered how long it would be around. It would probably be in the closet in six months and the Salvation Army bin next year.

The boys opened their Etch-a-Sketches and were working like crazy. They are cool. I wish I had one. I was really surprised by what my brothers and sister gave me. They obviously had help from Dad.

Denny gave me a civil war rucksack, Eddie a canteen and Mary a housewife which is what the soldiers called their sewing kits. They were all I needed to complete my outfit.

Tonight my sailor was in Copenhagen. He attended a party and was very hungry. All they had were small plates of finger food. So he ate them till he was full. When they opened the doors to the dining room he realized they were what the French called Hors d'oeuvre. He now had to eat enough of a meal to show good manners! Lady Barbara Wellesley thought it was funny.

Chapter 38

Christmas morning was pleasant. We kids were getting almost civilized in our present opening. Other years it was rip packages open as fast as you could. Now we sat in the living room and opened one package at a time working in a circle. Each present would be opened and displayed for all to see.

This was probably Mary’s last year with Santa, so we all pretended. There was something a little sad about it. My baby sister was growing up through that process had been going on for a while.

I would never forget the day when she was three years old and she had a fight about the color of a dress with Mum at J C Penney. She wanted royal blue, not the yellow one. Maybe women were born that way.

After a light lunch, we played games most of the afternoon. Then I spent more time typing out the Shawnee letters. They were actually letters to the Shawnee. They were in what is called copperplate writing.

They looked machine-printed but were handwritten. The practice that must have taken! I liked IBM more and more. At first, it was hard to read but once my eyes were used to the letters I could read it like normal.

There were nine letters in all. They all made the same empty promises. Chief Blackhoof must have spent a lot of his life in despair with how the white man was treating his people. He also was smart enough to know that those of his people who didn’t adapt to the new culture were doomed. Even those that did had the issues of alcohol and disease to face.

I don’t know if it is true or not, but I read that the European practice of mixing water with beer and wine had given them over time a genetic defense against extreme alcohol abuse in many cases.

Defense against the disease was built up the hard way. Those that didn’t die passed along an improved immune system. The Indians would take the same hundreds or thousands of years the Europeans did to develop immunities.

Dinner was again a light meal. The entire family played Monopoly after dinner. Mum and Mary devastated us. They landed on Park Place the first round and Boardwalk the second.

We guys fought gamely, trading each other to get sets and buying houses and hotels as fast as we could. It was to no avail. The female Jackson Housing Empire took us down.

We teased Mary about her running our real housing business. She told us she would do it if we boys would clean all the new houses. That girl is going places.

I read more about my sailor hero that night. It is hard to imagine electing a life at sea knowing that you would be seasick at the beginning of every voyage. As bad as my ability to sing was, at least I wasn’t tone-deaf. I could recognize our national anthem when I heard it.

The weather had turned to freezing rain on Boxing Day. This is the day after Christmas. In England, in the old days, this was a Christmas box with a tip or present given to those tradesmen who served the family.

Mum told us that in England that was when they held the large mounted fox hunts. She said they were a lot of fun but could be very dangerous. She didn’t answer me when I asked her if she had ever ridden in one.

I finally was so bored I finished up sewing on all the badges on my new scout uniforms. I met an English scout at a camporee once. He told me that we Americans wore so many badges on our uniforms we looked like Christmas trees.

After all of the sewing, I had to agree with him. My fingers were so sore. I tried using Mum’s thimbles but they were too small.

Denny spent time with me updating patches on his uniform. He was now a patrol leader and had just made First Class so he had to put the patches on his shirt. I must say my stitches were neater than his. I told him that and he got mad and told Mum what I said.

For some reason, she did nothing but laugh. Her two teenage sons were arguing about whose stitches were neater! After I thought about it I had to agree it was funny. I hoped John Wayne never heard of this.

Friday was a quiet day at home. For kicks, we kids spoke Spanish all day long. We were actually able to hold conversations. Mary did get us, boys, to attend a tea party to welcome her doll to the family. I doubted if the dolls would be around next year. How many accessories could they come up with for a doll?

I had finished the Shawnee papers, as I took to calling them. I went ahead and typed two more clean sets. I would keep these and use them as needed. Friday afternoon Dad and I had been invited to a meeting of the Logan County Historical Society.

It was an officers meeting not a full meeting of the Society. Dad had made the phone calls to tell them of the proposed donations. They had invited Dad, but since I knew the most about the micro-fiche project for the old newspapers he asked me to attend.

It was an informal group, the only person I knew there was Mrs. Rupert. The Chairman Mr. Piatt told everyone that Dad had called and wanted to make a donation to the Society. He asked Dad to explain what he had in mind.

Dad told them as part of a purchase from the Radford estate he had ended up with the Manary Blockhouse. He would like to make that a charitable donation along with the funds to set it in a place where ever the Society designated within the county.

As Dad put it, “I don’t want to see it set up in Hawaii though the dedication would be fun to attend.”

Dad then asked me to tell them what we would like to donate for the micro-fiche project. It was simple we would pay the immediate two thousand dollars to micro-fiche the existing papers. Then pledge two hundred dollars a year for the indefinite future to keep the collection up to date.

I explained that Mrs. Rupert had shown me the old papers and their condition. The papers had helped me in several projects and I would like to keep them available for future generations. I gave no hint as to what the projects may have been.

Of course, they were very happy to receive donations. It was understood that the Jackson family would be getting nice tax write-offs from this effort. Since most of the officers were businessmen they spoke highly of Dad doing it this way.

One of the members whose name I didn’t catch asked him how he had made any sort of a deal with Mrs. Radford. Dad didn’t really answer the question. She has quite a local reputation!

At that point, we decided to quit while we were ahead and quietly left. As we were leaving they were starting to argue about the best site for the Blockhouse.

On the way home with me driving Dad and I talked about the group.

He said, “They are going to have a hard time picking a site for the Blockhouse. Can you imagine what it would have been like if they got their hands on Blackhoof’s papers and medals?”

“It would have taken them years to figure it out. If nothing else they have nowhere to display them. I still think we are doing the right thing.”

“The State might provide funds but most likely they would have ended up in Columbus in their big building there or built a new museum in St. Johns or Wapakoneta.”

I was feeling more comfortable driving all the time. I had done everything except parallel parking. That didn’t look like it would be too hard. I knew better from all the comments made by the older kids at school but had a hard time accepting it.

Chapter 39

Saturday morning I found out how hard parallel parking could be. Dad had me drive him down to the office. I had to park right in front of the store. I made it, let’s leave it at that. I would need some more practice. Like a bunch more before I was comfortable. If I wasn’t used to the stick shift it would have been really bad.

Dad had about an hour’s work to do at the office, so I waited for him. Having nothing better to do I retrieved a flashlight out of the trunk of the car or boot as Mum would say and went to the basement. Now, Dad had been down there, but it was just a quick check for leaks and other problems.

The place was bone dry. It was also pretty spooky for some reason. I found out that I didn’t need the flashlight as there were plenty of lights. Once those were on the place wasn’t spooky anymore.

It was several rooms connected together. You could see where a coal furnace had been removed. There was now a modern gas unit near the stairs. Another room used to be the coal bin. It looked like the coal chute door had been boarded over.

I looked everywhere I could. I had visions of the Pit and the hidden compartment in the blockhouse, but I found nothing. Well, almost nothing. There was a cigar display case. It had five old wooden boxes of Cuban cigars in them. I checked, but the cigars in the open boxes were completely dried out. There was one box that had never been opened. There was also a fancy looking humidor box but it was empty.

I took all the boxes upstairs and dumped the dry cigars out. I didn’t open the sealed box and assumed the cigars would all be dried out, but it was nice to have an unopened box. I would take the boxes home for our Spanish class.

I didn’t know what we would do with them but they were cool looking. These were all made from cedar, not cheap cardboard. They all had a picture of Teddy Roosevelt leading the Rough Riders.

The humidor looked like it might have some value. A metal tag on the bottom said, “Benson & Hedges Copper & Brass Campaign Chest Humidor.” If nothing else it would make a nice box to keep papers in.

After Dad was finished at the office we checked out a duplex our company had just bought. It was in pretty good shape. Dad and I manhandled a sofa to the curb that someone had left. Other than that it could all be carried by one person. We were getting good at cleaning these places out.

I checked out the attics and basements of both units, but they were pretty clear. There were the usual odds and ends of old tools and canned goods in the basement. The attics typically contained busted window screens. I don’t understand why people kept them but they did.

Dad checked all the windows. Two had problems being raised. In both cases, the ropes for the sash weights had rotted. These were a simple replacement. This occurred so frequently in older houses that we had an extra rope, actually cotton clothesline, at home.

We decided to bring boxes back tomorrow and carry all the junk to the curb then. Denny and I would do that while Dad repaired the windows. He would then schedule an extra trash pickup by the city. After the place was cleaned out we would paint the interiors next week.

As we worked Dad gave me a brief update on the housing business. As of last week, we had twelve units rented out, so we had exceeded the original goals. The rents were paying the mortgages, adding to reserve funds and still leaving enough left over for the family to take out one hundred dollars a week. Right now in Bellefontaine, the average wage was forty dollars a week, so we were doing all right.

Dad had offers in on four more units and had hoped for at least three of them. The owners of the fourth one had unrealistic price expectations. It was part of an inheritance and the owners lived out of state, so they didn’t know local conditions. They didn’t understand that houses in Bellefontaine weren’t worth as much as in California.

Our business was now a member of the Chamber of Commerce and the Better Business Bureau. With a family membership at the country club, we were becoming known as prominent local citizens. Dad and I thought that was funny. We were just us. Not that long ago Dad had been working on the railroad extra board hoping to get called for work.

We also talked about what we would do with the boathouse. It was really too big for just one boat, but not big enough for more than twenty so it wouldn’t be useful for a boat storage business.

The structure itself was solid. It was a brick building on a concrete foundation. Why it was built on an island I will never know. Anything of size and weight had to be barged over.

About the only thing, it was good for was as a marine repair center. The only problem with that was the competition had buildings on land which their customers could drive to.

Dad told me, “That building was put up in 1906. Brice Radford bought it around 1938 so he wouldn’t have known why it was put there or what it was intended for. When it was built there was nothing else on the island. They probably meant to expand but it didn’t work out.”

Today there were four cottages on the island. They were all in disrepair and hadn’t been used in years. Indian Lake had really gone downhill since the war.

“Dad, I wonder who owns those cottages?”

“I have no idea Rick, why are you asking?”

“It would be neat to own the whole island.”

“It would, wouldn’t it,” Dad mused.

He went on to say, “I will check on whom the owners are at the Russells Point City office. Who knows, we may end up with a private island.”

We continued cleaning out the duplexes. The time went fast as I daydreamed of a private island, pretty girls and nude sunbathing. I wonder what nude girls look like?

We finished up and headed home. The youth center was open tonight so I decided to go there. I dressed casually in khaki, white shirt and sweater. It was not too bad of a walk downtown.

I had told Mum I would call a cab if it was raining when it was time to come home. The center was only open until ten o’clock, so I wouldn’t be out late.

The place was crowded when I arrived. There wasn’t much to do in the winter. One could go to the movie, bowling alley or up to the Lake and roller skate. If the weather permitted ice skating. Unfortunately, it wasn’t frozen right now. So here we all were out of school and bored on a Saturday night.

I looked around, but Cheryl wasn’t there. I should have called her and seen what her plans were. Tom and Tracy were there so I stopped over to say hi. Tom asked where Cheryl was. Apparently, he thought we were a couple.

Tracy spoke up and said, “She is at Linda Spiller’s pajama party.”

This was news to me. Not that it mattered. We sat and discussed who was going with whom. Tracy wanted to know if I really liked Cheryl. That question appeared to be innocent but I must have had the deer in a headlight look because she started laughing at me.

“Yes I like her, she is a pretty girl with a nice personality,” I replied with a little exasperation in my voice.

“I would like to date her, but I’m not ready to go steady. If you remember I will be leaving town at the end of January for that movie.”

Tracy took on a slightly distant look. You could see the whole social order of the school being reviewed as she figured out the effect of me being gone. It was like that Univac computer with all those punch cards being sorted.

Apparently, my being gone wasn’t going to cause social devastation because she quickly smiled and said, “That won’t be a problem since you can’t go to the Prom.”

I had just gained a valuable insight into the workings of high school society! Start with the Prom as the focal point and work everything backward from there. Hey, this is easy!

Then Tracy mused, “Then there is Easter Break and St. Valentine’s Day...hmm.”

Well, maybe not so easy.

Later that night my not so young sailor was an Admiral in the West Indies. He had fame, fortune, and the pretty girl but was still insecure. He always acted as if the devil was at his heels. Maybe that is why he had fame, fortune, and a pretty girl.

Sunday after church we went over to the new rental units and cleaned them out as planned. Church was easy after Christmas Eve. Compared to that evening the place was empty. We attended services and even were able to sit down.

At one point we had to stand as we were introduced as new members. After Church people came up to us and welcomed us to the parish. I was invited to the youth group that evening.

I attended the youth group. It was in the basement of the church. They attempted to have a discussion on teenage problems. They didn’t get too far. We were lectured on various practices.

I really wasn’t concerned about growing hair on the palm of my hand. I wasn’t certain that I would be a regular member of the group. I knew all the kids there, but not well.

Later that night I had finished rereading all twelve books of my English sailor's life and times.  I thought it would be neat if they were all rewritten for a space navy in the future. They would be fun.

Chapter 40

Monday was a day of slush. It had warmed up enough that everything was melting. Mum had breakfast ready and had an announcement for Dad.

“I have been to J C Penney, Sears, Uhlman’s and Montgomery Wards. I haven’t been able to find a dress for New Year’s Eve. We are going to Columbus.”

“Rick, you will be in charge here for the day. Mary can go with us as she does not mind shopping unlike some I could name.”

When Mum is in this type of mood, one says, “Yes ma’am.” There was no discussion here, just marching orders.

It took them about an hour and a half but Mum, Dad, and Mary were on their way. That left Denny, Eddie and me. I wondered what we would do for the day.

Denny spoke up, “Let’s go hunting!”

I thought about it for almost a heartbeat. I could imagine us out with shotguns. Eddie had never been out in the field. I swear my life flashed before my eyes.

“I don’t think so. It’s too nasty out.”

Wet they would understand, logic never.

“It’s early yet.   Let’s watch cartoons on TV for a while.”

“Captain Kangaroo is still on.  Maybe they will have Rocky and Bullwinkle today.”

“Yeah, it would be neat if they had Boris and Natasha,” Eddie said as the thundering herd moved to the living room.

Well, that bought me half an hour or so. It was more like an hour but then they were back, “I’m bored,” from Denny and “What are we going to do,” whined Eddie.

“We could walk down to the library; see if any new books are in, then I will buy lunch at Don’s.”

Lunch at Don’s interested them. We put on our jackets and headed out. When we got to the library they didn’t have any new books set out. I did have one bright idea. I took them down to the basement and showed them the old newspapers. That proved to be a lifesaver. Denny liked the old advertisements and Eddie the comics.

Eddie started at nineteen thirty-four and started reading every Terry and the Pirates ever released. He also liked Mandrake the Magician which started the same year. He didn’t go back to nineteen twenty-four for Little Orphan Annie.

He just picked it up with the others. By lunchtime, he was up to nineteen thirty-five. He would have many an hour in this basement.

Denny went from the ads to following World War II. He told me he was glad he knew we had won because it didn’t look good at the beginning. He hadn’t realized that Mum’s war was two years longer than Dad’s war. The bombings she had lived through started in nineteen forty and the United States didn’t come into the war until the end of nineteen forty-one.

He asked me what she did in those days. At one time I thought I knew. Now I wasn’t so sure. I told him to ask her. I hoped I was there when he asked. Her answer would be interesting.

After returning the hardbound newspapers to the top of the cabinets where they were kept, and having a good sneeze from all the dust and weird smell of old paper we headed down to Don’s.

At fifteen cents a hamburger and a dime for fries, they managed to eat over a dollars’ worth of food. Well, I did have two hamburgers myself so that was part of the cost. I wondered if I could get the money back from Dad. There wouldn’t be a chance with Mum.

There were a lot of high school kids there and a few from middle school. What I thought was cute was this one middle school girl who made a point of talking to Denny, and saying she hadn’t seen him here before. She hoped he would become a regular.

What was neat was how red he could get. Eddie didn’t help when he said real loud as she walked away, “I bet she has cooties.”

From red to pale took Denny about five seconds. I thought he was going to pass out. He survived. I asked him the girl’s name as he hadn’t introduced us.

“That’s Carla, she never misses anything. You have to be real careful around her. You can’t tell a fib or make anything up. She pays close attention to everything. She is scary.”

“She may be scary, but she is a cute chick.”

“I know that is what’s scary. I think she likes me and I don’t know what to do.”

“Brother, welcome to the club.”

In the meantime, Eddie was looking at us like we were crazy.

“Why would you like girls?” he wanted to know.

Denny and I exchanged looks and laughed.

“One of these days you will understand why girls are likable,” I replied.

“Never,” returned Eddie stoutly.

“Okay, guys why don’t we walk down by the train depot and see if any freight trains are coming through.”

Both boys went for this. It was fun to count how many boxcars made up the train and how many different railroad companies there were. Very common were cars from the New York Central, Pennsylvania. Erie, Lackawanna, Reading Railroad, Ann Arbor Railroad, Central Railroad of New Jersey, Lehigh Valley, and Lehigh and Hudson River.

The Canadian Pacific had cars through all the time. Best of all was when you saw a Union Pacific, Pacific Southwest, Burlington Line, Grand Trunk Western or even an Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe car.

There was the Sun Coastline and many I couldn’t even remember. My record was one hundred and forty-seven cars with fourteen different companies on one train.

We walked down to the train station. It was located on McKinley Street which is only twenty feet long. It is supposed to be the shortest street in America. The train station is longer.

Anyway, there was a passenger train sitting there. I checked the schedules and found out we could ride it to Kenton and catch another one back with only an hour layover. It would cost forty-five cents a person but would kill a few hours.

The boys were up for it. It was a shame that the last steam engines had gone out of service on the New York Central. They were so cool. Diesel’s were okay but they were dull in comparison.

On the ride up to Kenton Eddie made a great discovery. He had to pee so he went to the toilet. He was gone long enough that I was about to go see if he was okay. When he got back he exclaimed, “Did you know when you pee they dump it right on the tracks!”

“Yes, I did know that Eddie.”

“What about when you have to poop?”

“Same place. As you saw when you flush the toilet the bottom opens up and dumps it in the middle of the track. That is why the sign says don’t use the toilet while the train is stopped in the station.”

Acting like he might throw up, he said, “Oh Yuck!”

“Eddie that mess is one reason that Dad didn’t like working on the railroad. Can you imagine what it’s like under the bottom of these cars? Poop and pee scattered everywhere.”

“Oh, I thought it was a good job.”

“It paid very well when you had work, but you would have to switch the cars to make up a train out in the rain and cold. I’m very glad that Dad is now in the housing business.”

“Well, he still has to unplug toilets!”

What is it with young kids and their fascination with toilets?

“Hey, here is the conductor show him your ticket so he can punch it.”

We got to Kenton shortly thereafter. We had an hour wait for the train back, so we walked the three blocks downtown. Their stores had different names than ours but they had the same sort of stuff.

We went into a drug store and I let the boys pick out a couple of Superman and Batman comics for themselves. I picked up the latest issue of Amazing Stories. They had a new serial starting called, “Starship Troopers,” by Robert Heinlein.

These safely got us back to Bellefontaine. By then it was four o’clock so we headed home. Well after a stop at Isley’s for a milkshake. The boys had strawberry but I went with my favorite butterscotch.

While we were sitting there a couple of middle school girls walked by us on the way out.

They both said, “Hi Denny.”

I think my brother is going to enjoy high school.

We got home in time to clear off the kitchen table. We hadn’t cleared the table before leaving. I didn’t want to catch it from Mum. The boys must have really enjoyed the day because they helped wash and dry the few dishes with no back talk.

Chapter 41

We had just finished and about to head in to watch TV when our parents made it home. First through the door was Hurricane Mary. She was so excited, they had been to the big city shopping, and she had some new clothes!

Mum and Dad followed her at a more sedate pace. Dad looked like he had been shopping. Tired that is. Mum was happy and full of energy. She looked like she had been shopping. Between her and Mary we had an instant fashion show.

Mary had a plaid jumper with a white blouse. Mum had what she called a little black dress. It reminded me of what I had seen Audrey Hepburn wear in movies. It was very simple and elegant. I even said so.

Dad whispered to me, “Sixteen dollars of elegant.”

That was a lot, a normal dress was six or seven dollars.

Mum said, “I heard that!”

“Worth every penny dear,” Dad came back with.

“Nice save Dad.”

“Jack, show him the Bulova watch you just paid ten dollars for,” Mum said sweetly.

Dad opened the box showing me his new wristwatch, and I said the right things then headed for my room. There is a time to retreat from the battlefield and this was it.

When I came out for dinner, Dad had just woke from a nap, and it seems peace had been declared. At least Mum and Dad were cheerful with each other. We had spaghetti for dinner. Mum had frozen some sauce she had made last year with tomatoes from our garden.

At dinner, I asked if we were going to have a garden this year. If we were, where would it be?

Dad said well that raises some issues. Mum and I have been talking. We think we should go to England this year.

We finally can afford it and your English grandparents have not seen you since you were a baby, and they have never seen the others. They are in their seventies and not the best of health.

“How would we get there?” I asked.

“Well, we would be flying,” replied Mum. The way she said it I wasn’t certain that I was included.

So I asked, “Am I part of this?”

“Well no, we thought you should take a ship,” said Dad.

“Why can’t I travel with you?”

This was confusing. What was going on?

Dad replied, “You had such an adventure last summer we thought you might like to have another one this year.”

“I am missing something, what are you thinking off.”

Mum broke in, “We thought you might like to work your passage on a tramp freighter. Your cousin John has worked for the last year as an apprentice engineer on a passenger ship for the British India Line.”

“He is on the SS Uganda sailing from Liverpool to East Africa. There is no reason you couldn’t work most of the summer on a freighter with a final destination of Liverpool or London.”

“Let me get this straight. You are flying to England this summer to visit family and I am welcome to join you if I work my way?”

“You got it,” said Dad with a big smile.

“Wow this is out of the blue, it sounds exciting. How do I get a job on a ship?”

“I’m sure you will figure something out,” Mum replied with a smile.

I knew that smile. I was going to get nothing else from her.

“This is for real. I can spend this summer working my way across the Atlantic?”

“Yes it is Rick, you need to continue to grow and learn. Would you really be happy hanging out at the Lake all summer with the speed boat and pretty girls?”

“Yes I would, that sounds like a plan to me.”

“Not going to happen, you will work your summer. It is up to you where you work.”

“Can I think about it?  This is out of the blue.”

“Certainly that is why we brought it up now.”

“I am surprised that you will let a fifteen-year-old travel alone around the world.”

“You didn’t complain last summer. Besides, that is the problem with America today. Children are being kept children too long. Besides your cousin John who is only a year older than you, your cousin David who is your age is apprenticed to a pharmacist. He will be able to dispense medicines on his own within two years.”

Mum said this, but Dad was nodding his head.

Dad added, “When I was fifteen I was in the Ohio National Guard helping to break a strike at the rubber factories in Akron. Of course, I lied about my age I told them I was eighteen and my mother signed for it. My sergeant told me they knew I was really sixteen but I was big for my age so it was okay.”

Have I mentioned that my parents could be strange at times?

“You are still a member of the International Oil Workers Union or whatever it is?”

“It is the International Oil Rig and Drillers Union, and yes I am paid up till next August. I’m also a member of the Screen Actors Guild and that is good till July.”

“Why don’t you write to the IORD and ask them for a recommendation to the union hiring hall for the steamship lines in New York City?”

“I could do that. That won’t hurt anything even if I decide not to do it.”

Denny broke in, “Can I do this stuff when I’m older?”

“Certainly,” Dad replied.

“Good, I want to spend a summer as a spy for the CIA.”

“If they will take you, you have my permission.”

Mum asked, “What’s wrong with MI6?”

“What’s that,” asked Denny?

“The British version of the CIA, only it’s much better.”

“Peg, we don’t want to go there, remember.”

“Sorry, Jack I got carried away.”

I thought better of asking what that was about. It would go nowhere.

Eddie piped up, “I want to spend my summer vacations at Disneyland when I’m old enough.”

Mary chimed in, “Can I live in the castle at Disney?”

“Sure kids,” said Dad changing the subject from spying.

Anyway, the bottom line is that we wouldn’t start a garden this year, as there would be no one to tend it.

That night I started a new book that just came out. It was the retelling of an old story. It starts out with The Wart meeting the magician in the woods.

Chapter 42

Tuesday was still warm, well above freezing, so the last of the snow and ice disappeared. There would be more I knew, but I was glad for what we had. It was still overcast and grey. We may never see the sun again I thought. Anyway, after my morning exercises, I did manage a run.

All it did was show how fast you can get out of shape. I did okay, but my stamina had taken a hit from the winter’s inactivity.

We had just finished breakfast when the phone rang. Dad answered it without his usual, City Morgue…bit.”

He listened for a while and said, “We will stop by after lunch today.”

He turned around and said, “That was Douglas Hicks a lawyer for that kid on the Moped, Sam Butler. He asked that we stop by and give a statement on the events at the pond. They seem to think they have a lawsuit against the city.”

“How could they have a lawsuit? He was the stupid one who rode a Moped on ice like a madman,” Mum asked.

“They don’t have signs up saying it’s not safe to ride a motor vehicle on the ice.”

“Well, I never!”

“Anyway he asked that I accompany Rick to his office so he can make a statement. I told him that I would, but first I’m calling Eugene Burke.”

Dad called Mr. Burke and explained the situation. Then Dad listened and listened some more.

He said, “Can you accompany us then? Good, we will meet at your office at one o’clock and walk across the street to his.”

Dad told us the gist of his conversation, “This Hicks has a reputation as being an ambulance chaser. He hunts for problems like this and tries for a cash settlement without a trial.”

“Eugene warned me that he will try to get Rick to admit that he treated this Butler kid someway. Then he will claim malpractice of some sort hoping to get our homeowner's insurance to settle with him.”

“Eugene has agreed to go with us and keep this from happening.”

Needless to say this set off a small uproar in the house. Mum was all for settling things out of hand. I’m not sure what this meant, but I got the impression that it included violence.

I tried reading to pass the morning but it was a drag. Finally, Dad and I left for our attorney’s office. When we got there Mr. Burke asked me to recount the events of the day. He had me repeat my conversation with Sergeant Woodruff.

He was really interested that I had told him that I didn’t do any treatment because I saw that I would only cause further injury.

“Once again, that is what you told the police and he took notes?”

“Yes Sir,” I replied.

“Then that is exactly what you will tell Hicks, the truth. He might try to talk you around to saying you treated Butler in some way. You said that you provided blankets because he was cold and your Boy Scout training led you to believe he might go into shock. He will then say that is a form of treatment. Is it a treatment?”

“No Sir, it is not treatment of the injury it is an attempt at preventing further injury.”

“Excellent, now you have told me these things. Have I tried to lead you to these answers in any way?”

“No, you just asked me to tell you what happened and then recommended I relate exactly that since it is the truth.”

Mr. Burke looked at Dad and said, “You have one smart kid here.”

We walked across the street. At Hicks's office, we were forced to wait for half an hour. Mr. Burke winked after fifteen minutes. “I bet he doesn’t know I’m with you, he is trying to make you nervous.”

I didn’t say anything but it was working.

When we were escorted to Mr. Hick’s office he was surprised to see Mr. Burke with us.

He made the comment, “Oh, you have concerns about Rick’s actions since you have brought an attorney with you.”

“Still working on intimidation tactics, Doug?” responded our lawyer.

I don’t know what I expected his office to look like but it was as plain as could be. The desk was a battered metal one. There was one bookcase with a few law books on it. I compared that with Mr. Burke’s office which had a nice wooden desk, credenza, two barrister bookcases full of law books, nice carpeting, and drapes. This place was a dump by comparison.

The interview went exactly as Mr. Burke had predicted. He must have asked me ten different ways if I had touched or manipulated Sam Butler’s ankle in any way shape or form. I kept my answers the same as with the police and Mr. Burke.

His questions then turned to were there any city personnel present.

“No Sir, not to my knowledge.”

Was there any signage saying under what conditions it was not safe to be on the ice?

“No Sir, not to my knowledge.”

“You don’t know much do you?”

At that point, Dad turned to Mr. Burke, “We are done here.”

“I agree,” we stood to leave.

Hicks tried to shake Dad’s hand and said, “I am just doing my job.”

Dad looked at Hick’s hand without taking it and replied, “With your job, I don’t know where your hand has been.”

Mr. Burke and Mr. Hicks did shake hands but it was perfunctorily. I did love all the new words I was learning as I read.

While I was being interviewed Mr. Burke had taken notes of my replies. We went back to his office and asked me to review and sign them if I agreed with their accuracy. They were very good notes, almost a transcript of the conversation.

“Normal courtesy would be for Hicks to provide us a copy of his notes to review for accuracy. That isn’t how he works. If by some chance he asks you to sign anything let me review it first.”

Dad and I returned home. Mum wanted all the details. She was still ready to rip someone's heart out. I never knew she could get so angry. I mentioned that to Dad while Mum was out of the room.

He told me, “This isn’t when you should be scared. She is just venting. It is when she goes all quiet and gets remote that you should be concerned.”

Boy, this was a side of Mum that I never knew existed!

Dad’s brother Ross and his family joined us for dinner. After dinner, the adults played Euchre, men against women. From the noise, you would have thought they were fighting. We kids got a pool tournament going in the basement. As usual, Denny and Eddie dominated the table.

Occasionally we would hear, “You so and so,” from Mum.

Aunt Minnie was less refined, “Jack you are an SOB!”

From all the carrying on by the ladies I thought they were losing like crazy. Later I found out they had won two out of three games.

My cousin Ross Junior was known as Bud for some reason. Anyway, Bud told me the roller rink had finished its conversion to plastic. He told me that it was wonderful. You could actually talk to people. Also, the plastic was smoother than the old wood so you didn’t trip as much. He told me to try it as soon as possible. I thanked him and told him I would.

Bud and I while cousins weren’t that close. We played together when our families visited, but we didn’t go out of our way to see each other. He went to Lewistown High School where he was talking shop.  We really had little in common. Still, if I saw him in trouble I would be there to help, he was family.

That night The Wart pulled the sword out of the rock. If only life was that easy.

New Year’s Eve was clear and cold. The skating pond would start freezing again. It probably hadn’t thawed completely anyway. I ran again and it still was miserable.

I made the mistake of taking a deep breath while running and I thought my chest was on fire. It was cold enough that the hair in my nose had frozen. That was a weird feeling.

I was starting to look forward to going out to California at the end of the month to start the movie. At least it would be warm.

The day was going slow so I asked if I could walk down to Don’s for lunch. Mary was being a little monster, so Mum told me that I could go if she went with me. That worked for everyone.

Mary and I bundled up and headed out. She skipped along happy as a clam now that she was out of the house. When we got to Don’s it wasn’t quite full so we were able to sit at a table. That worked out well. Mary was an instant hit with all the girls.

Groups rotated to our table and back to their own. I think we were all so bored that any new face, even a four year old was a novelty. I kept watch but Cheryl didn’t show up. That was a shame.

In the meantime, Mary figured out she could cause some commotion by asking each girl that came over if she was my girlfriend.

This caused a lot of red faces and denials. Especially for those girls whose boyfriends were with them.

In a pause between groups, Mary said, “I know they aren’t your girlfriend that’s Cheryl, but it is fun to make their faces red.”

What a little snot!

As we were walking back up the long hill home Mary said, “That was fun we will have to do that again.”

I thought, not bloody likely. Halfway home she was lagging so I picked her up, and carried her, the rest of the way. When we got home I laid her on her bed.

Mum asked me how it went. I told her that it went well, except she delighted in embarrassing me and all the girls there by asking me if they were my girlfriend. Mum thought this was funny.

Chapter 43

We had dinner reservations at the country club at seven o’clock so I ate a snack of peanut butter and jelly at five so I wouldn’t starve to death. That was much more likely than catching my death.

After that, I got cleaned up and put on my best suit and tie. Dad and I were waiting for Mum to finish up. She came in asking Dad to help her with her necklace. I looked up at her and had to stop and think; that is my Mum!

In the little black dress, she looked gorgeous. I did some quick math and realized she is thirty-nine years old and looks great.

She had a black case in her hand. It was a long flat jewelry box. She handed it to Dad who opened it to reveal a pearl necklace. It was what they called a triple strand.

I asked if I could look at them. Dad handed me the strand. The pearls were white with an almost mirror-like luster to them. Mum told me they are a matched set at ten mm. These are South Sea saltwater pearls.

I looked at them closely and realized that some of them had small bumps on them. I asked about that and was assured that this was the sign of a real pearl.

“These look very expensive. Where did you get them?”

She showed me the back of the box. It had Boodles, Bond Street, London England.

“It was a gift from a friend.”

The way she said it told me there would be no more. From the look on Dad's face, he wasn’t bothered at all about it. So I guess it wasn’t some other guy. Now, what friend might Mum have had that could afford to give away high-end jewelry?

We put on our hats and coats and left for dinner. Mrs. Hernandez wasn’t back from Miami, so a high school girl was hired to babysit. I was really surprised when Eleanor Price showed up at the door.

I told her I thought she would have a date for tonight. She told me that she hadn’t a boyfriend since Steve’s death and could use the money. She would make at least five dollars tonight.

At the club, it was like an old home week. Mr. Hastings the manager met us at the door with a warm greeting. He had us step into his office for a minute and gave us a group of membership cards.

Each member of the family now could use the golf course, swimming pool or tennis courts at our leisure. We were led to our table by Kelly the hostess that I had met on my earlier visits.

We had barely sat down when Doctor Costin came over with his wife and welcomed us to the club for our first meal as members. Until our meal was actually served there was a small parade of people stopping by to say hello.

I was a little surprised by how many of the business people in the community knew my parents. We weren’t really singled out for all these visits. I think every group stopped at every table. There must be a party going on.

After dessert, we had coffee while Dad smoked one of his ever fewer cigarettes. There were enough people smoking that you could see a haze forming near the ceiling. A young lady came to the table.

She had a tray suspended from her neck with a strap. She had on black short shorts with a red blouse and was wearing fishnet stockings with high heels. She was giving away sample packs of Camels.

I guess Dad and I looked at her too long because Mum said, “Like what you see boys?”

I came back with, “She is wearing red and black our school colors.”

Dad came up with, “Yeah I admire school spirit.”

“You two are so full of it! But she is elegant looking.”

“No Peg, you are elegant, she might be cute or even pretty but you are the elegant one.”

Nice save Dad!

At the next table, they were smoking cigars and they really stank up the place. I think they should restrict them outdoors. Mum commented that she would have to send all of our clothes to the dry cleaner after this to remove the smoke. It would also decay the threads if left too long.

If it would cause threads to decay no wonder it wasn’t good for your lungs. I noticed that Doctor Costin was really careful about smoking, he only used a pipe.

We moved to the ballroom. It was really a large meeting room that could be used for dancing. They rented it out for various functions. I noticed a table full of teenagers so I pointed it out to my parents and they said, “Go.”

Wonder of wonders, Cheryl was there. She seemed a little cool at first. I picked up on the fact that I made the last person at the table, and until I arrived Cheryl was the only unescorted girl at the table. Maybe I should have called her?

I apologized to her for not calling. I didn’t know this could be a date. She admitted that she didn’t know until yesterday, and then she thought it was too late to make certain that I asked her out.

I must have got the deer in the headlights look because she said, “You are goofy. It’s my job to keep these things straight.”

Now there were many assumptions and questions piled into that statement that I did the smart thing. I asked her if she wanted a soft drink. They were running a cash bar for alcohol, but I found out the mixers were free.

I knew everyone at the table. The most familiar were Tom and Tracy. They had been together since Homecoming. Does that mean they are engaged? Tom mentioned he heard I had a little excitement at the ice pond.

I then had to fill everyone in on Sam Butler and his Moped. I also told them about the trip to Mr. Hick’s office.

One of the other kids there, Jim Traul, Judge Traul’s son said, “That lawyer is bad news. The betting at the courthouse is that he will end up disbarred.”

I noticed that Mum and Dad were sitting at a table with Colonel and Mrs. Hawthorne along with the Mayor and his wife. Doctor Costin and spouse were there also. My parents were doing fine for their first visit to the country club.

We talked for a while more and the band started. It was a ten-piece band that played the music from the 1940s. They were pretty good. I danced all the slow dances with Cheryl and a few of the fast ones. Some of the older people in their thirties could really jitterbug. They played some rock and roll but somehow the sound wasn’t the same.

I started out dancing a couple of inches from Cheryl. Before the night was over she was clinging to me and I held her tight. She didn’t seem to notice my embarrassing reaction to holding her so close so I ignored it also.

At Midnight we kissed. It was a rather deep and long kiss. It was so nice we tried it several more times. I decided that I really liked kissing Cheryl.

We danced several more slow dances with my hands dropping lower on her back. She didn’t seem to mind at all. As the song went, “Put your head on my shoulder.”

Both sets of parents, hers and mine came over and said it was time to leave.

The Colonel asked Dad, “Jack, do you think we should get a bucket of ice water for these two?”

“Not a bad idea Jim.”

Talk about ruining a mood!

I helped Cheryl get her coat and we sneaked in a good night kiss. At least I think we sneaked it in. All four parents were smirking when we came out of the coat closet.

Mrs. Hawthorne started humming a song. When I recognized it I really blushed a deep red. The tune was the new Connie Francis hit, “Lipstick on your collar.”

When we got home I headed right to my bathroom and checked my collar. There was no lipstick. She had got me!

I was too wound up, to sleep right away even though it was later than I usually stayed up. Dad was taking Eleanor home so I talked to Mum about the evening. She told me they had a really good time and that she was so proud of Dad. He didn’t drink anything or even hint that he might like to.

She told me, “Your Dad didn’t drink much until after the Battle of the Bulge. He never talks about it but it must have been bad. Up until then, his war wasn’t that bad. He was in the Military Police guarding the Cheltenham airdrome. When the Huns offensive started they called up everyman they could. Even the cooks and bakers were given rifles and sent to the front.”

“You were only a couple of months old at the time and I was more worried than any other time during the war. Fortunately, he came through all right and in April was returned to England. He got a promotion to Captain during that time and the Silver Star along with his Purple Heart.”

I had seen both those medals, he called them his, “I forgot to duck, and then I got pissed off medals.”

He never said what actually happened for him to receive them. He did have a scar down his side that was like a long slice. There were also two puckers on his left arm. They were on both sides like bullets had gone through without hitting bone.

Dad got home, we all agreed that we had a wonderful time and then went to bed. I was so tired that I didn’t care if the knight did run off with the Queen. I wondered about his name, was it a dirty little joke about the knight being a randy bugger? That would be normal for Anglo Saxon humor. They were pretty bawdy.

Chapter 44

New Year’s Day was a traditional day at our house. We watch the Rose Parade, the Rose Bowl and all the other bowls being broadcast. Ohio State didn’t make any of the bowls this year so that was disappointing.

We rooted for Iowa against California. If it had been Michigan playing for the Big Ten we would have rooted for the other guys. There is no bias in this house; hatred is a more accurate description when it comes to Michigan and football.

The best part of the Rose Parade is the segments where they show the floats being made. That was really interesting. It would have been nice to see them in color. Dad told us he had read in Popular Mechanics that a few programs were being broadcast in color but you needed a special television set.

These were very expensive and the color not that great. We would wait till prices came down and the technology got better with more programming available. I figured that might be in twenty or thirty years.

This was the one day of the year we were allowed to eat food in front of the television. Mum believed in the family sitting at the table to eat. Don’t get her started on those new TV Dinners and TV dinner trays. She thought those were the invention of the devil.

We talked about the dance last night. When the other kids weren’t in the room; my parents observed that Cheryl and I seemed to be at it “hot and heavy.”

There wasn’t much I could say as they had seen us.

“Rick, that is normal. All we ask is that you don’t make us grandparents yet.”

Oh boy, this is territory I don’t even want to think about. Are they going to give me the birds and the bees talk?

Dad continued, “I’m not going to give you the birds and the bees talk. The playground has taken care of that. I would like to urge you to take it slow. You could really mess up yours and Cheryl’s lives at a young age.”

“Dad, I have never been alone with Cheryl.”

“That is my point if what we saw last night was any indication we will need to keep you two on leashes.”

“What can I say?”

“You can’t say anything. It is your future actions that count. Just remember that if Cheryl becomes pregnant that both of your lives are headed in a direction that you may not be ready for.”

“I know I’m not ready to be married and a father.”

“Then keep it in your pants.”

How could Dad be saying these things in front of Mum? She must be embarrassed to death.

“As long as you stop short of intercourse you will be safe but it’s up to you to be the one to stop,” added Mum.

So much for Mum being embarrassed.

Dad continued, “Cheryl is a good girl and she knows that she will be the one whose life is really changed if she gets pregnant. But she is human. Sex is what it is about at your age. You both will explore. We just urge you not to take that final step until the time is right.”

Mum broke in, “The right time is preferably after a wedding, college degrees and a job. We will settle for being old enough to support a family.”

I didn’t think this was a good time to bring up the fact that I had made enough money in the last year to support ten families.

Dad went on, “There is another thing Rick, you are a good looking guy that is big for his age. At the end of this month, you will be working in California on a movie set. Lord knows what will go on there. I will be giving you a box of condoms before you leave, but would be most happy if it came back unopened.”

I was so far over my head that I just wanted out of the room. I was the one that was embarrassed! Up to this point, I had only vague thoughts about intercourse. My fantasies had involved first and second base. Now they were talking about home runs!

“That is the end of the talk Rick,” Dad told me.

“Life is coming at you and we just don’t want you to make mistakes, at least those mistakes. I’ve seen a family destroyed by those actions and don’t want it to happen to you.”

Now that really made me wonder about which family and what actions, but I wasn’t going to continue this line of conversation any longer than I had to.

“You are excused, for now, I suspect you may want to go to your room and think about this,” Mum told me.

Well, I wanted out of this room that was for sure.

I spent the rest of the day buried in a book. This was avoidance plain pure and simple. I didn’t care. Life is not fair. I had been looking forward to the pleasures, and my parents were forcing me to look at the consequences.

Later in the afternoon, my parents had stepped out so I called Cheryl’s house. Her parents were near the phone. I could tell that by the way, she wouldn’t talk.

I asked her if she wanted to go for a walk in Rutan Park. They lived in base housing, so it wasn’t that far. She asked her parents. I heard her tell them a friend wanted to go for a walk. I noticed she didn’t tell them it was me.

I headed out going up the hill as fast as I could in regular shoes. I met her at the roadside park near the radio station, so we just sat on the park benches. We agreed that we both had a good time last night at the dance. Then she told me that she had got a talk from her mother this morning.

I told her she was lucky, I got mine from both parents. We both agreed that our parents were going overboard. We had no plans like they seemed to think. We were just enjoying the moment last night.

I told her, “I really enjoyed the moment.”

Cheryl thought briefly, “Maybe that is their point. When you are enjoying the moment how do you stop enjoying?”

I started to reply then closed my mouth.

After thinking, I said, “Oh, once you have started, stopping could be very hard.”

Cheryl giggled, “Especially if it’s hard!”

The women in my life were determined to embarrass me to death.

“Cheryl, we haven’t gone on a real date yet and our parents have us in bed.”

“I think they have just realized that we are growing up and that’s a possibility.”

“I’m not ready for that, I would feel lucky if I could feel your breast.”

My turn to embarrass her!

“Maybe one-day big boy, you have a lot of wooing to do before you get there.”

So she doesn’t embarrass easily. I’m beginning to think females embarrass less easily than guys.

I thought about bringing up my trip to California, and my Dad's comments on that but decided to leave that well enough alone. Of course, that didn’t hold up for a minute.

“Rick, you are leaving for California and the movie crowd at the end of the month. Until I see what person comes back I don’t want to go any further than we have.”

“We haven’t done anything but kissed.”

“Exactly,” she replied. At that, she gave me a light kiss and told me she had to head home. I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad or whatever. Why are women so confusing?

That night I reread Tom Swift and his Flying Machine in a much simpler world.

Chapter 45

Friday was a nothing sort of day. All of us kids were in the basement shooting pool, bad-mouthing each other in Spanish. We were getting very good in certain areas, we could talk about pool but not physics. Of course, Mary didn’t understand physics yet. Well, not the words. She certainly was getting the hang of force and angles. Denny and Eddie could beat me, now Mary was on her way.

It wasn’t that I was bad, they were all good. Our Uncle Wally had been over a few weeks ago and was roped into a game by Denny. Wally won but then he had lived in pool halls when he was a kid.

As a matter of fact, he still spent a lot of time in them. Anyway, he wanted to teach Denny some of the finer points then take him to various pool halls and play for money.

“We could make a fortune on the side bets,” Wally told Dad.

Dad told him what he thought and that ended Denny’s professional pool career. Wally wanted to argue but Dad reminded him of the times he had to bail Wally out of jail and once out of the hospital.

Anyway, we were shooting pool in the basement when Dad called me upstairs. Standing in the kitchen was Mr. Hicks. He handed me his typed notes.

He said, “I’m in a bit of a hurry so just sign these and I will move on.”

I looked at Dad and he shook his head.

“We would like Eugene Burke to read them over before Rick signs anything.”

“I don’t have time for that, sign these now.”

“They won’t be signed until we have had a chance to review them.”

“Do you realize you are interfering with an Officer of the Court? I’m trying to do my job and you are obstructing me. That is illegal. Now sign this so I can move on,” Hicks blustered.

Mum spoke up, “Why don’t I obstruct your arse with this broomstick. Now you move on.”

He couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

“Now you are threatening me, you will be hearing about this!”

After he left I noticed Mum was still holding her broom. However, she was holding it like a quarterstaff, not a sweeping broom. I really wonder about her at times.

Since it was Friday, Dad called Mr. Burkes's office and he was in. We took the papers down for him to review. When he was done he told us not to sign these. He pointed out where Hicks had twisted words to imply that Rick had treated Sam Butler. He told us not to worry about Hicks that he would take care of it.

“How,” Dad asked?

“I’m going to deliver both sets of notes, his and mine to Judge Traul who heads the committee on attorney conduct. It is the word of the three of us against Hicks. At the minimum, my notes will be accepted and at the best Hicks will be censured. While I think of it both of you write out the events of this morning and what was said.”

Dad and I remembered things slightly differently, but not much. We both well remembered Mum telling him she would obstruct his arse with a broomstick. Mr. Burke loved that. He told us,

“That’s too good of a story not to share. I can’t do it without permission because of attorney-client privilege, but would we mind?”

Dad laughed and told him that was fine, share away. The image created, was a housewife about to sweep him out of our kitchen, which was funny and hurt Hick’s dignity. What I remembered was a warrior about to break his head with a quarterstaff!

That was the highlight of Friday. Tom called Friday afternoon and wanted to know if I would like to go roller skating Saturday night.

I said, “Sure do you mind if I invite Cheryl?”

“Give Cheryl a call, Tracy has already spoken to her, and her parents have agreed.”

That meant that at least half a dozen phone calls had been made. I think that I might be the last person to ever know what is going on. I suspect that I would find out that I was getting married by being told to show up at the church at a certain time and place.

We had a fun Saturday night. The new plastic floor, when combined with plastic wheels on the skates, was wonderful. Some of the skaters who owned their skates still had wooden wheels and they were noisy.

There was a sign up that said they had to replace the wheels by the end of the month. You could actually hold a conversation while skating. There really was a difference in the smoothness of the floor.

Cheryl and I cuddled in the backseat on the way home but I didn’t try anything. I received a light kiss at the door. I would have stayed for more but Tom honked his horn. Cheryl thanked me for a nice evening and being a gentleman. I think that was a hint.

That night I started a series about an early pioneer. I thought Hurry Harry and Tom Hutter were about the stupidest people who ever lived.

Sunday was a quiet day. I took a long walk just to get out of the house. It was too cold to run but the walk was nice. I thought about the events of my Christmas vacation. Overall it was a good time off from school though I could have done without the talk on New Year’s Day.

To be continued in Book 3: Hollywood the Richard Jackson Sage

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