“I’ll make it right. I beg you. Give me a chance. Please … please …”
The Klansman broke down, weeping uncontrollably. Lou handed the burning newspaper to a marine who took it outside and stomped out the flames.
“So what are you going to do? How are you gonna make things right?”
“I’ll rebuild the house and send all the materials you need. I’ll pay for everything and for labor. I’ll rebuild the still.”
“Let’s recap. I just heard you say, you will send every scrap of material to rebuild Mr. Jeb’s house, bigger and better, along with the other thing—right? Is that what you said?”
He nodded his head up and down vigorously, “Yes, yes, sir, I promise …bigger and better.”
“Did I hear you say you would pay Mr. Jeb the sum of one thousand dollars—no make that two thousand dollars—compensation for pain and suffering you caused him and his family?”
“Absolutely, yes, absolutely.”
“And deliveries will begin tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Tomorrow.”
“You will send laborers and carpenters on Monday morning at 6:00 a.m. sharp.”
“Absolutely—anything, sir.”
“You got three months to rebuild that house to his satisfaction—bigger and better!”
“Yes, sir, bigger and better.”
“I don’t wanna hear any bitchin’ or squawkin’.”
“No, sir, you won’t, I promise you.”
“You know Anacostia Flats—Tent City?”
“Yes, I know it.”
“You’re to donate and deliver six—no, make that twelve—loads of lumber to that location by tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir. No problem at all.”
“2x4’s—2x6’s—2x8’s with nails and a hundred sheets of canvas,” Lou said.
“I don’t have any canvas.”
“Then find some dammit! And fifty paraffin heaters. Deliver it all to Henry Faulkner. Got that?”
“Yes, absolutely. To Henry Faulkner, sir.”
“Another thing. Your niece. She's family to me. If you harm her in any way, I will come down here and I will kill you. I’ll roast you alive like a pig on a spit!”
“I won’t. I won’t, I promise you.”
“I’ll be looking into her finances. You’d better not be stealing her father’s fortune. See to it she and her mother are cut in fair and square, fifty-fifty. I want audited accounts every year and details of who owns what including all previous records. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, sir, every year. I’ll see to it.”
The Klansman had begun to relax. Sensing they were off the hook.
“We’ll be talkin’ again. Okay, men, let ’em loose.” Lou handed the various keys to the marines. He turned to one. “Marine, find me a long-axe and some rope.”
The marine strode into the hardware section and re-appeared a few minutes later with the axe and rope.
“This brings us to the matter of the family dog,” Lou said, uncoiling the rope.
Uncle Rory began quaking again.
“Bring him over here,” Lou said. Lou tied the rope around the fat man’s wrist and laid him face down on his belly on a pile of lumber. The marines held him down and Lou lashed his right hand into position.
“This is the hand you used to shoot the dog. The right hand, wasn’t it?”
“Oh no, no, no. Please no. Not my hand!”
The Klansman screamed and blubbered for a few moments and then gave up and put his head down. Lou took the axe and swung it over his head, bringing it down full force, but twisting it at the last moment, smashing the Klansman’s hand with the blunt head. Uncle Rory screamed in agony and terror, believing his hand had been severed. When he opened his eyes, the bones were well and truly crushed, but his hand remained attached to his wrist.
“Now you think about ‘Moonshine’ every time you raise that hand, mister,” Lou said. And then, leaning forward he whispered in the Klansman’s ear, “I’ll be watching you—don’t make me come back again. …And remember …mum’s the word.”
71
GOODBYE MY FATHER
Friday August 8 through Monday August 11, 1930.
The day after his lawless actions at Tyson’s Lumber & General Hardware, Lou went with Tom and Anna to visit the city police chief. They found him to be warmhearted and sympathetic to the veterans. Lou spoke of the meetings in Tent City and at the Navy Yard. It turned out to be a worthwhile exercise in public relations. Lou assured the chief the men in the camp wanted to cooperate with him.
From the police station, they went to Tent City to update Henry. They also delivered a load of vegetables from the farm. Lou told the veterans he’d urged the general to give them support. Three truckloads of lumber had already been delivered. Henry was thrilled and very touched by the generosity of Tyson’s Lumber & General Hardware. Helen Smothers had visited the camp and planned to write a feature article for Sunday’s newspaper. Lou wished them good luck, urging them to keep the peace, relaying the general’s warning. He promised he’d write to the President and the Congress on his return to England.
On Saturday, the first consignments of lumber began arriving at Remington’s Farm for the reconstruction of Jeb’s home. The truck driver confirmed Julia’s uncle would be sending men to start the work on Monday. Anna and Tom sketched some drawings on sheets of paper with Jeb and Alice. Father had taken an interest and promised Lou he’d keep an eye on the construction. The new place would be bigger, with four bedrooms, a nice living room, a decent kitchen and a wrap-around porch with aspects over both the creek and the river—more a real home than a shack.
Lou spent much of the day with Anna, Tom and Jeb, cleaning up and removing the old parts of the building and making a junk pile for burning. They’d need to build some new piers for the extended sections. The driver from Tyson’s Lumber was told to be sure to bring plenty of red brick and cement on Monday morning and, of course, bricklayers to lay them.
On Sunday, Lou’s last day, spirits were low. Lou was torn; being in England away from family, was rough. Before leaving for church, Tom asked Lou to walk with him and Anna down to the river, just beyond the creek. There was something they needed to tell him. With the sound of overpowering birdsong surrounding them and the smell of charred wood in the air, they ambled down, past the remains of Jeb’s shack to the misty river. Lou had a bad premonition.
“Lou, we’re not supposed to tell you, but we decided you should know,” Anna said.
“What is it?”
“Dad.”
Lou realized immediately. He stared across the water at the distant Maryland shore. Lenny’s face filled his mind. The cough.
How did I not see this?
“He’s dying,” Tom said.
Lou’s throat became dry and tight.
“Cancer.”
“What type is it?” Lou whispered.
“Lung cancer. It’s spreading all over his body.”
“How long?”
“Three months, maybe four,” Anna said.
Everything became clear—his appearance, his attitude, his bitterness, his sadness.
“God, I wish I could be here with you all. Damn it!”
“We thought it important you knew tonight, as it’ll be special,” Anna said.
“Probably my last night with him on this earth,” Lou whispered.
Lou closed his eyes, grief already taking its toll and understanding Tom’s irritability.
Anna put her arm through his. “Yes, Lou, ‘fraid so.”
Julia arrived in the Chrysler, and Mother, Gran and Father (all in their Sunday best) climbed in with her. Lou, Anna and Tom followed in the pickup. Jeb and Alice and the children were already in the church, nicely dressed in many colors, when they arrived. Throughout the service, Lou could think of nothing but Father, regretting he’d not spent more time with him. He looked at Julia standing at his side holding a hymnal. Did she know? Sympathy showed in her eyes when s
he returned his stare. Yes, she knew. All week they’d not told him—protected him. He felt like a spoiled brat.
He glanced across at his dad standing next to Mother. Dad never sang hymns, but he was valiantly doing his best, in his blue serge suit, his wife clinging to his arm. Lou looked around the church. He saw it clearly. They’d bring in his coffin and lay him down on trestles in the center aisle and say prayers for him. His mother, grandmother, Tom and Anna would hold on to one another, weeping—and he wouldn’t be here to comfort them. He closed his eyes and tears flowed down his cheeks. Julia squeezed his arm to comfort him. He looked into her eyes and they held each other’s gaze for a few moments.
What an incredible woman she is.
She had his profound and absolute respect.
After the service, the vicar stood at the door. He told Lou the community was proud of him and wished him well. After that, the congregation made a big fuss over Lou, gathering around him, while his family, including Father, watched with pride. Lou felt numb.
In the early afternoon, Mother came up to Lou’s bedroom to get his uniform. “How long have you been married now, son?”
Lou thought for a moment. “Eight years.”
“Eight years and no children?”
“Unfortunately no, Mom—but all that’s about to change.”
Mother picked up Lou’s uniform from the chair and put it over her arm. “You must try and bring Charlotte to see us …before he goes.”
That evening, they had a special dinner of roasted venison prepared by Gran and Alice—a farewell feast with nearly everyone in the world Lou cared about, including Julia, Jeb and Alice and the children. They made a feeble attempt at jollity.
At the end of the meal, Father rose from his seat at the head of the table. “I’m not one for speeches, but I want you all to know this.” His eyes rested on Lou. “I’ve said things I shouldn’t have said, especially when you were growing up. I pushed you hard, son. And I drove you out. I want to say in front of all of you—I’m truly sorry. I was out of line—but only because I cared about you. I haven’t always made that plain. I want you to know, no father could be more proud of his son than I am of you. I wish you well on your journey. Good luck and may God bless you and protect you, always.”
Lou was stunned. This had come out of the blue. Everyone had tears in their eyes. Anna hurriedly got up and poured more elderberry wine. She sat down and raised her glass.
“Safe trip, my darling brother.”
Everyone drank to that. After dinner they moved to the porch where Lou and Father played the guitar and banjo together. It was like those rare good old days, except those days were gone, forever.
The next day, Lou got up before dawn, put on his uniform, expertly steamed and pressed by Mother. He went down to breakfast as the first rays of sunshine poured into the kitchen. Outside, a lumber truck arrived along with a dozen workmen. Tom went out and directed them down to Jeb’s ruin. Father said he’d go down, too.
A few minutes later, Julia appeared. Lou rushed down to his father who was directing the men. They shook hands and Father gave Lou a long hug goodbye and kissed him. Father looked at the activity going on and the piles of delivered materials and then back at Lou.
“You did Jeb mighty proud, son.”
“I love you Dad.”
“I love you too, son.”
Lou walked back up to the house and Father followed him. He embraced and kissed Mother and Gran and then his father again. Before climbing into Julia’s car, Lou had them pose for some photos including Jeb and his family. They drove off, with Anna and Tom following in the pickup. Lou was barely able to look at them standing there waving. Lou and Julia traveled in silence to Union Station, slowed by demonstrators on Constitution. There were no words to be said.
At the station, they walked to the barrier where they said more hurried goodbyes—they were late. Lou kissed Anna and shook Tom’s hand, but Tom grabbed him and gave him bear hug. Lou put his arms around Julia and held her tight. She closed her eyes as he kissed her cheek.
“I’ll continue to pray for your safety,” she said. “I will always love you.”
Calls echoed through the station. ‘All aboard that’s going aboard!’
Lou went back to Tom and cupping his hand, whispered a message in his ear. He grabbed his kit bag and ran for the train.
“Come back soon,” Anna called after him.
“I will, I promise—very soon!” Lou yelled back.
Lou reached the train. Ezekiah Washington was standing by the door.
“Ah bin waitin’ here for you, my dear sir,” he said.
Lou glanced back at the barrier. Tom stood with one arm around Anna and the other around Julia. All three were in tears. The two women waved sadly as he boarded the train.
“This is a coincidence,” Lou said.
“If you believe in coincidences, sir,” Ezekiah said.
Lou smiled.
“Got your same suite, Commander.”
“I got you all figured out,” Lou said.
“How’s that, sir?”
“You’re my guardian angel.”
“Maybe I is, sir. Maybe I is.”
Lou didn’t protest this time. He followed Ezekiah down the corridor to the suite where the Washington Post lay on the table. He looked forward to reading what Helen Smothers had to say. He sat down and the train pulled away.
“I went to the camp,” Lou said.
“Yes, I heard you did. That’s good. I also heard you put a little hurt into our brethren under the sheets.”
“How the hell—”
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I get to hear, sir. Now here’s a nice cup o’ coffee. Nice and black, just the way you like it.”
“Thank you, Ezekiah. Thank you very much.”
“Not at all, sir. It’s my pleasure.”
PART TEN
THE DAYS BEFORE THE
INDIA VOYAGE
72
WELCOME HOME!
Wednesday August 12 - Saturday August 16, 1930.
Lou talked with Ezekiah and thanked him as the train approached Montreal. Ezekiah wished him luck and told him to ‘stay strong.’ For Lou, this whole trip to North America had been like a fantasy—another world. Norway was waiting on the platform.
“How was your trip?” he asked.
“Oh, pretty quiet,” Lou grunted.
The return voyage had been uneventful, except for one night on Lou’s watch. After everyone had retired, Cameron fell asleep. Lou suddenly realized the ship was descending rapidly toward the water and grabbed the elevator wheel, slapping Cameron around the head. Lou didn’t report the incident, realizing Cameron had lost a lot of sleep over Rosie lately. Apart from this incident, the journey turned out to be boring, and the Canadian journalists who’d been invited to travel with them, said as much. Scott kept a low profile the entire voyage.
On the way home, Lou lay in his bunk hoping the feelings of euphoria would return, but all he could think about was his father. His mission became clear: as soon he returned from India in October, he and Charlotte would take a steamer to Montreal and travel down to Washington by train.
Wouldn’t it be great if Ezekiah was our steward!
Aside from the worry about his dad, he was glad he’d gotten things straight in his mind. He’d had plenty of time to think. Things were going to be different from now on. They’d pay their visit to America. On their return they’d start a family—adopt if necessary. Everything was going to turn out swell!
They got back to the Cardington mast around 11:00 a.m. on Saturday, August 16th. The journey home had taken less than fifty-eight hours. Two hundred cars were parked on the field when they arrived and a crowd had gathered—tiny compared to the reception in Montreal. Lou was in the control car for the docking with Booth and Meager. He scoured the fence, hoping to catch a glimpse of Charlotte, but couldn’t see her anywhere. Mooring the ship took an agonizing forty-five minutes. Lou was scheduled to be on duty at noon
the following day. He hurried off the ship behind Booth and Steff, leaving Meager on watch with a skeleton crew. Thomson waited with Brancker at the foot of the gangplank where they shook hands with each man, uttering words of praise and welcome.
From the top of the tower, Lou could see a BBC crew waiting with their broadcasting equipment in front of Shed No.1. A small brass band was playing a march. Thomson was obviously planning to make a speech and Lou didn’t intend to stick around, anxious to get home to Charlotte. He glanced over the tower rail. No Binks. No motorbike.
Dammit! He's late as usual.
But then Lou looked across the field and saw Binks roaring toward the tower. Lou went down. Binks raced up to him.
“Here she is, sir, good as new,” he said, chirpy as ever. “Voyage okay?”
“Yeah, not bad.”
“Someone put sugar in your tank. I 'ad her in the shop and me and Mr. Leech stripped her down. She’s all right now, sir.”
“Damn! Who would do such a thing?” Lou asked, knowing exactly who.
“And I mailed the envelope a week after you left, just like you asked me to.”
“Thanks. I owe you a pint, Joe.”
While Thomson and the crowd moved toward Shed No.1, Lou strapped on his kit bag, and after dropping Binks off in Shortstown, drove to the florist’s at the parade of shops near Kelsey Street. He bought a big bunch of violets and tied them on the gas tank. Then he nipped into the corner store and bought a box of Cadbury’s chocolates—her favorite. He slipped them in his side pocket and rode slowly home.
Thomson went from the tower to the front of Shed No.1. The doors had been opened to reveal the bow of Cardington R101. The public turnout for Howden R100’s return had been disappointing, but the broadcast would give things a boost and the usual battery of journalists and photographers had been summoned. The publicity derived from this little homecoming event would pressure the R.A.W. to keep up with the schedule he’d imposed on them for R101.
The Airshipmen: A Novel Based on a True Story. A Tale of Love, Betrayal & Political Intrigue. Page 56