Out of the Smoke

by Gerald N. Lund

  “I can see that in his eyes,” Frank said, a sudden lump coming into his throat. “And that thrills me.”

  “Yes, me too.” Celeste sighed. “Listen to me. Rambling on like a schoolgirl. Barely pausing to take a breath.”

  “I love it,” Frank said. He took her hand again, and this time she didn’t pull back. “So tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m thinking that New York City is only about 226 miles from Washington, DC, and—”

  Frank cocked his head to one side. “About 226 miles? Are you sure it’s not about 227 miles?”

  That won him a laugh and a blush. “All right, so I checked. By train, that’s about four or five hours. By plane, less than an hour.”

  “I like where this is going.”

  “So,” she said shyly, “what if I accept Columbia’s offer and move back to America by the end of this summer? And what if you and I start working on our relationship by me and Reggie coming down to you, or you coming up to me and Reggie at least one weekend a month. Let’s say that it would be like a second courtship. Like when we first dated and—”

  “Yes!” Frank blurted. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “It’s not going to be easy. Remember, that’s what we promised we’d do that first year we went to Europe to get our degrees. We said we’d meet each other halfway between Paris and Berlin and spend time together. And then we let ourselves get too busy.”

  “We’ll make it work, Celeste. For Reggie’s sake. And for us. You’re right. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. To me for sure. I want you back, Celeste. I love you more right now than I ever thought possible. And I want this to work.”

  She scooted in closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. “Oh, Frank. So do I. More than I can say. But. . . . I still have so much fear. And anxiety.” A long pause. “And a lot of hurt.”

  He put a finger under her chin and lifted her head so he was looking into her eyes. They were shining in the moonlight. The desire to kiss her left him breathless, but he resisted. “I will wait for however long it takes,” he whispered. “I will wait until you are ready.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes and streaked down her cheeks. “Then I’ll do it. We’ll tell Reggie first thing in the morning.” She managed a shaky laugh. “They’re going to hear him whooping and hollering all the way to Salt Lake City.”

  Frank leaned in until their foreheads touched. “And standing right behind him,” he said happily, “will be my mom and my dad, and all the rest of the family, whooping and hollering even louder than Reggie.”

  Celeste nodded. “That’s good, because I want us to have what they have.” And then, catching Frank totally by surprise, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “Believe it or not, I do still love you, Frank.”

  He began to answer, but she pressed her finger to his lips. “Walk me back to the ranch house, cowboy. Maybe now I can finally get some sleep.”

  May 31, 1932, 5:12 p.m.—EDW Ranch House

  Mitch watched with deep satisfaction as his family members came into the living room and found seats or plopped down on the floor. There were eighteen of them in all. The younger children, those ten and under, had been excused from the meeting and were playing outside. It especially pleased Mitch to have all six of their own children present, and all but one of their spouses.

  Mitch had placed his chair directly in front of the fireplace. He laid out his notebook, his scriptures, and a file folder within easy reach. All the others were seated in a half-circle facing him. He looked around at the faces in the room and smiled. “This is a wonderful sight. I think we are ready to begin.”

  All conversation quickly died as his family smiled back at him. It pleased him to see that most of them, including several of the teens, had a notebook and pencil of their own. He turned to his second-­to-youngest child. “Abby? We’d like to open our family council with prayer. Would you offer that for us, please?”

  Abby nodded, set her notebook on her chair, and came up to stand beside her father. Mitch smiled as he watched her. The twins had turned seventeen about two weeks earlier. That was about how old Edie had been when he first saw her in the co-op store down in Bluff. Now Abby looked so much like Edie—even down to the dimple in one cheek—that sometimes Mitch did a double-take when she came into the room.

  “Amen.”

  Mitch was startled to realize that he had just missed Abby’s short prayer. “Amen,” he added quickly. When Abby was seated again, he began. “Thank you for coming. Grandma and I are very pleased to have all but one of our family here with us today.” He turned to Tina. “Tell Monte we miss him, but we know that he’s where he needs to be right now.”

  “I will, Dad. Thank you.”

  “We are especially delighted to have Frank and Celeste with us. We hadn’t quite planned it this way, but we’re so pleased that it worked out. We value your voices on the council.”

  “We’re glad to be here too,” Frank said.

  “Yes,” Celeste added. “It feels so good to be back home.”

  At her use of the word “home,” everyone smiled. That was a compliment to all of them. “Hear, hear!” June called out. “We have missed you, Celeste.”

  Mitch reached over and picked up a book from the hearth. “Your mother and I have two primary purposes for this family council this evening. First, to assess the circumstances in which we now find ourselves. Second, to decide how to best prepare ourselves for whatever the future may hold for us as a family. So, to begin our discussion, I would like to read a scripture from the Doctrine and Covenants.” He smiled at Celeste. “That’s one of our books of scripture, along with the Bible and the Book of Mormon.”

  “Yes, Frank has told me about it.”

  “In my mind, this passage defines what it is we want to do, or, better, what our overall, long-range objective as a family should be.” He opened the scriptures to where he had a marker.

  “What scripture is it, Dad?” MJ asked. He was reaching down beside his chair to retrieve his own scriptures. Others were doing the same, including the older grandchildren. Mitch felt a rush of pleasure. He hadn’t asked anyone to bring their scriptures. “It’s Doctrine and Covenants, section seventy-eight, verse fourteen.”

  There was a soft rustling of pages as people opened their own books. Suddenly, Benji got to his feet and walked over to Celeste. He handed her the open book. “Here. You two can read off of mine. I’ll share with Abby.”

  Celeste smiled warmly up at him as she took the book. “How sweet of you, Benji. Thank you.”

  Mitch waited until all had found their place in the scriptures or were scooting over so they could see off of someone else’s book. Then he began. “In verse thirteen, the Lord talks about the need for us to be prepared. Then in verse fourteen He says, ‘That through my providence, notwithstanding the tribulation which shall descend upon you. . . . ’”

  He stopped. “Let’s talk about that for a moment. The Lord says that He wants us to be prepared ‘notwithstanding,’ or in other words, in spite of, there being tribulations coming down upon us. Someone tell us what the word tribulation means.”

  June’s hand came up. “Tribulation means troubles, challenges, difficulties.”

  “Yes,” Mitch said. “Not a very cheerful word, is it?”

  He lifted the book again, but Abby’s hand was up. “And what does providence mean, Dad?”

  Edie answered for him. “It means God’s love, His protective care, how He watches over us.”

  “Thank you, Abby. Good question.” Mitch looked around. “So let me now finish the rest of the verse, then we’ll put it all together.” He lifted the book and read again. “‘This is the preparation wherewith I prepare you. . . . ’ Skip down to verse fourteen. ‘That through my providence, notwithstanding the tribulation which shall descend upon you, that the church may stand independent above all othe
r creatures beneath the celestial world.’”

  He set the book down and looked around at the upturned faces. “Would someone like to sum up what the Lord is saying here?”

  Suddenly everyone was rereading the scripture, brows furrowed. Finally, Rena raised her hand. Mitch nodded at her. “Well, God wants to help the Church prepare for the tribulation that is coming, and that’s because, as Mom said, He is good, He loves us.”

  “Ah, it does say the Church, doesn’t it? Why would He care about saving a church?”

  This time everyone hesitated. Finally, Rowland, who was seated next to his wife, raised his hand. “I don’t think He’s talking about buildings here. He’s talking about people. It’s people that really make a church.”

  “Very good,” Mitch nodded. “That’s what came to my mind too. So go on, Rena. How is He going to save His people?”

  She glanced down briefly and then said, “By helping us to be independent of all other things beneath the celestial world.”

  “Which means what?” Mitch asked, looking around at the others. MJ and June’s oldest raised his hand. “Yes, Noah.”

  “Uh . . . if it’s everything beneath the celestial world, that must mean the things of this world.”

  “Very good,” Mitch said with a smile. “And one more question. This revelation was given to Joseph Smith in March of 1832. Read it again and see if you think the Lord would change any of the wording if He gave this to us today.”

  The room fell silent as everyone hunched over their books. Suddenly Tina’s hand came up.

  “Yes, Tina.”

  “I think that instead of saying, ‘the tribulation which shall descend upon you,’ today He might say, ‘the tribulation which has descended upon you.’”

  Heads came up all around as the impact of her words hit them.

  “Yes, that’s what hit me as I was reading this passage earlier today.” Mitch closed the book and reached for the file folder. He opened it and set in on his lap. They could see that it was filled with newspaper clippings.

  He studied them for a moment and then picked one up. “I submit the following items from recent newspapers to support Tina’s conclusion that we are now living in the midst of tribulation. I apologize in advance, for this is not happy stuff.” He cleared his throat and began to read.

  “‘Farm prices in the United States are down forty percent from 1929, which was already seeing a depressed farm market. The price of industrial goods has dropped too, but only fifteen percent.’”

  He laid the clipping aside and picked up another. “‘In Utah, a bushel of wheat sold for an average of a dollar and three cents in 1929. It is now selling at thirty-eight cents, and that price is still dropping. It costs seventy-six cents to grow a bushel of wheat, so farmers are losing almost forty cents per bushel.”

  Every eye was on Mitch now as he picked up another.

  “‘Utah stockmen have been particularly hard hit. Utah’s sheep population, which fueled the economy during much of this last decade, has lost seventy-eight percent of its value in the last three years. The cattle market is even worse.” He dropped the clipping on the hearth.

  Mitch took out another clipping and, in a subdued voice, began to read again. “‘Last fall, almost a thousand railroad cars filled with peas, cabbages, onions, and potatoes harvested in Utah were left to rot on railroad sidings throughout the winter because the food prices back east were so low and transportation costs so high that it would have cost more to get them to market than they could sell the produce for.’”

  Rena gave a low cry. “Why didn’t they at least give it to the poor? Thousands of people are starving.”

  Her husband shook his head. “Because they couldn’t afford to haul the food to where the people were.”

  Mitch went to the next clipping. “‘One government source now says that approximately seventeen thousand US families per month—’” He looked up. “Yes,” he said grimly. “That is per month! “‘—are being evicted from their homes and apartments because they cannot pay the rent or their mortgage payments.’”

  “Could that be possible?” June exclaimed. “Seventeen thousand a month?”

  “I said it was shocking,” Mitch replied.

  Tina raised her hand and Mitch nodded for her to speak. “I don’t know how much news you are getting down here from Salt Lake City, but we are certainly not immune from the problems plaguing the rest of the country. And part of our problem is that we have so many people employed in agriculture. And because so many people are defaulting on their rent or their mortgages, a lot of banks are also in trouble. In Utah, about a third have failed. That’s slightly less than the national average of forty percent, but it’s still pretty shocking, because we supposedly are a very conservative state. And in the face of all that,” Tina went on, “the mayor of Salt Lake gave a speech at the City and County Building a month or so ago. He said, and I quote, ‘The hard times will soon pass and we will emerge into a period of unprecedented prosperity.’”

  “Ha!” Rowland cried. “It’s unprecedented, all right, but it sure ain’t prosperity.”

  “Tell them about the riots, Tina,” Edie said.

  “You may have read about this, although the Salt Lake papers mostly downplayed it. But last November, five hundred transients came into town in a single day, either riding the rails or on foot. Most were from the Midwest or the East hoping to find work. The police rounded them all up and escorted them out of town and told them not to come back.”

  “Good,” Rena muttered under her breath.

  Tina shot her sister a look but went on. “A lot of people objected to that kind of treatment. And to be honest, even I feel like our city officials were being too harsh. These were not criminals. They were people out of work through no fault of their own.”

  “True,” Rena retorted, “but we can’t give our own people jobs, let alone hundreds of others pouring in from out of state.”

  “Not only that,” Celeste said to Frank, but loudly enough for all to hear, “some of them are undoubtedly criminals. They’ve had that in Boston. Groups of thugs going into grocery stores and taking whatever they want. Bullies on the streets taking purses from old ladies.”

  Tina frowned but again let it pass. “Anyway, not long after the transient incidents, the Salt Lake County sheriff and several of his deputies were scheduled to conduct a tax sale from the steps of the City and County Building. Six houses and a farm were being sold for back taxes. Word spread quickly and a crowd began to gather. Things got ugly in a hurry. Some started yelling at the sheriff that he shouldn’t be selling off people’s property in these hard times. The sheriff didn’t like that and demanded that the crowd disperse. When some of the younger, angrier men refused to move, the sheriff and his officers turned a fire hose on them.”

  “Oh my goodness,” June said. “And this is in Salt Lake City?”

  “Yes! Well, the fire hose only infuriated the crowd. Several men jumped the deputies, wrestled the hose away from them, and turned it on the building, flooding the first floor and causing city employees to flee in panic.”

  Edie was horrified. She looked at Mitch. “Did you know that?”

  He nodded as Tina went on. “The police finally had to use tear gas to get the crowd to disperse.” She looked to her father. “I think it is important for us to know that these challenges are not just ‘out there’ somewhere. They’re here, too.”

  “Thank you, Tina. One more clipping, and then we shall move on to our second question, namely, how do we prepare ourselves for the tribulations that are now upon us?” He began to read:

  “‘Things are especially bad in the Midwest, where severe drought conditions and dust storms are adding to the miseries of the depression. Food shortages are so severe that it is now a common sight to see whole families at garbage dumps scavenging for food.”

  Edie gasped.
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br />   Mitch looked up. “I’m sorry, but this is life right now. This is part of the reality that is facing us.” She shook her head but sat back, so he continued. “‘In some places, orderly lines are formed as people wait their turn to forage for food as trucks bring in new loads of garbage. In other places, people rush off to meet each new truckload as it comes in. In these cases, the strong, the merciless, and the brutal prevail, often knocking children out of the way. In Harlan County, Kentucky, people are surviving on wild blackberries and dandelions. Families in the mining communities of Appalachia have taken to eating only one meal every other day.’”

  In the dead silence that followed, June’s hand slowly came up. She had mostly sat quietly through all of this. Mitch nodded in her direction. “Yes, June?”

  “Are you familiar with that old cowboy song, ‘Home on the Range’?”

  Mitch looked puzzled. “Of course. What about it?”

  “One of the lines goes, ‘Where never is heard, a discouraging word.’ Well, Dad, I think we just heard a discouraging word.”

  For a moment, there wasn’t a sound. Mitch was so thoroughly taken aback by her comment that he just stared at her.

  “I think I heard more than one word,” Celeste called out, trying hard not to snigger.

  That did it. The whole room erupted with laughter. Even Mitch was grinning as he finally put the clippings away. It was a much needed relief from what they had been hearing. Edie smiled along with the rest, but as it finally died out, she got to her feet. “I have a request.”

  All noise ceased. She stepped forward, looking at the children who filled most of the living room floor. “Children, I want you to turn and look at your parents right now.”

  Surprised, they did as she asked. “Now, parents, I want you to gaze into the eyes of your children. Not just look at them. Gaze into them!”

  As they did so, there was a moment of awkwardness and a few titters. She let them hold it for ten seconds or longer and then spoke with great emotion. “There is no question that the times we are now in are grim, and getting grimmer. They seem pretty hopeless. Pretty discouraging. Pretty despairing. But what you parents are looking at right now is the antidote for that despair. Some of you may be asking yourselves, ‘Is there any good news out there?’ Yes! And, parents, you are looking at it right now. Our children. Our grandchildren. Look at them. Happy. Confident. Pure and good.”