Williams Residence
Windley-Ausbon house
302 Washington Street
Plymouth, North Carolina
Monday Evening, August 17, 1942
The ninth chime from the grandfather clock
downstairs reminded her that it was time. Ellie kissed her
three-year-old daughter Margaret, who was already asleep, and then
looked in on seven-year-old Little Billy.
The light streaming in from the hallway chandelier illuminated the eight-by-ten-inch black-and-white photograph of Billy in his navy blue sailor’s uniform. The picture was sitting in a modest black frame on the nightstand beside the boy’s bed. The hunk of a man he was, the photo made him look boyish. Maybe it was the white pixie sailor’s cap or the sheepish grin. Whatever, Billy had been happy in the Navy. He died doing what he wanted to do. It was the last picture of him alive, and you could see the joy on his face.
“Billy?” Ellie whispered as she tiptoed into the bedroom. She gazed for a moment at the shape of her son under the white sheet. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw the sheet rising and falling ever so slightly in perfect rhythm. Her eyes followed the contour of her son’s body and rested on his face, where she judged his eyes to be closed and his mouth to be half open. She rolled her eyes over to the picture of Billy, then back to Little Billy. When the boy held his mouth half open like that, Ellie thought the resemblance to his father was striking.
Little Billy was a light sleeper. So she tip-toed toward his bed, kissed him on his forehead, left the room, and descended the grand staircase to the foyer.
She glanced at the grandfather clock before heading to the living room. It showed 9:05.
Five minutes behind schedule. But who cares? Peace at last.
The electric Victor Victrola sat on a mahogany table in the corner of the ornate living room. Ellie pulled two records from a cabinet beside the table. One was a recording of the London Symphony Orchestra from happier times, playing Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. The other was a recording by the Berlin Philharmonic of Beethoven’s Ninth.
Hmm. What will it be, victory or joy? That is the question, Ellie Williams. Hold that thought.
She laid both records in the wingback chair beside the Victrola then walked into the kitchen and looked at the wine rack.
Decisions. Decisions. Pinôt noir or cabernet?
Ellie pulled a crystal wine glass out of the cabinet and reached for the 1931 Argentinean vintage Pinôt noir. She removed the cork and filled her glass half full. She closed her eyes and took a sip, savoring the warm path it made down her throat.
Billy’s dead. Walter’s gone. I need joy. The Ninth it is.
She walked back into the living room having made her selection and placed the big black record on the whirling Victrola. The needle made contact with the outer circumference of the spinning record, and through the sound of a few electronic scratches the soft violins of the enemy filled every corner of the living room.
The violins built to a rapid crescendo, and within thirty seconds woodwinds and brass instruments made their entrance with tympani exploding. Ellie took another sip of the expensive wine.
Did I hear something? Must’ve been my imagination.
Ellie sat in her velvet wingback and closed her eyes. She sipped the Pinôt and listened some more. She loved this musical masterpiece, the way it fluctuated in the beginning from soft to powerfully majestic within seconds, then soft again and then back to yet another full orchestral explosion. Alternating strong then subtle, all throughout the first movement. The music reminded her of herself. Hot and cold, all at once. Vulnerable and powerful, all at once.
The five raps on the front door were unmistakable.
Company? This late?
With wine glass still in hand and with the Berlin Philharmonic still filling the living room, she got up and walked to the front door.
“Jessie?” Walter’s wife wore a long blue dress, and her normally-pretty face bore a twisted, contorted look of worry.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Jessie’s eyes darted toward the living room.
“No, I’m alone. I’m just listening to some music. Please come in.”
“Thank you,” Jessie said.
“I’d offer you some wine, but I take it your stance on alcohol is the same?”
“That’s kind. No, I still don’t drink. Although sometimes it’s tempting.”
“Maybe I could tempt you?” Ellie said.
“No thanks, Ellie. I’m not here to drink,” she said. “I’m here to talk.”
She looks serious. I wonder what this is about.
“Okay.” Ellie spoke slowly. “Just have a seat.” She pointed Jessie to the davenport in the living room.
Ellie sat across from her in the velvet wingback. There was a moment of awkward silence.
“Is everything all right, Jessie?”
Jessie sat for a moment, and then her eyes met Ellie’s.
“No, to be honest, Ellie, everything is not all right.”
Ellie sipped her wine. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I’ll get to the point, Ellie. It’s about Walter.”
“What about Walter?”
God please let him be okay.
“Actually, it’s about you and Walter.”
Where’s this coming from?
“Me and Walter? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“You were engaged to Walter.”
“Yes, that was years ago.”
“We’ve never talked about it,” Jessie said.
“You’ve never broached the subject. I certainly wasn’t going to. I thought it would make you feel awkward.”
“Now that Billy’s gone, to be honest, you being around Walter makes me feel awkward,” Jessie said.
The comment struck her like a cold slap across the face. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“Ellie, I want to know what your intentions are.”
“My intentions? What do you mean by that?”
“Yesterday when the three of us were talking in the back yard, I left to go to the kitchen to make Walter’s care package.”
“I remember,” Ellie said.
“When I was in the house, I was determined not to stare, but I looked out the back window. I saw what was going on.”
“What are you talking about, Jessie?”
“What I’m talking about is what I saw out the back window.”
Is she trying to trick me into admitting something here?
“Jessie, unless you tell me what you’re talking about, I can’t respond to it.”
“The way you were looking at him. I could see it in your eyes.”
“See what in my eyes?”
“Don’t play games, Ellie.”
“I’m not playing games.”
“Maybe this is more than a game to you,” Jessie snapped.
“You’re here, upset because you think you saw something in my eyes?”
“Oh, it’s not just your eyes, Ellie. I saw your hands too.”
“My hands?”
“Yes, your hands. The way you put your hands on his when I was inside. The way you snatched them away when I walked back outside.”
“Jessie, I . . .” Ellie’s eyes looked away.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I don’t mean to sound like a jealous fool. But this whole thing has been bothering me for a long time, this thing with you and Walter. And then yesterday. I had to get it off my chest.”
“Jessie.” Ellie lost her train of thought. The Berlin Philharmonic was about to commence the glorious finale of Beethoven’s Ninth. “Let me turn that off.” She stood up and stopped the record player. When she sat down, she took another sip of wine and focused her eyes on the Persian rug draped over the shiny hardwood floor. She felt her eyes well with tears.
Silence.
“Maybe I’ve said enough. I should go,” Jessie said.
“No.” Ellie hesitated. “Don’t go.” Ellie looked at her and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “Jessie, I’ll talk about anything you’d like, including my feelings for Walter and our engagement if you wish. But first, there’s something I’d like you to see.”
“Okay,” Jessie said.
“Wait here a second.” Ellie left the room. About a minute later, she returned with a large, eight-by-ten-inch envelope. It was addressed to “Mrs. Ellie Williams Brewer.” The return address was “The White House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C.”
Ellie handed the envelope to Jessie. “Open it. I want you to read what’s inside.”
Jessie removed the heavily-bonded sheet of paper from the large envelope.
Navy Department
Washington, D.C.
December 19, 1941.
Award of the Navy Cross.
By direction of the President of the United States, the Navy Cross is awarded posthumously to Seaman William L. Brewer, USN.
Citation: On December 7, 1941, while serving as a gunner’s mate on board the USS Arizona, BB-39, during the surprise Japanese attack on the naval base at Pearl Harbor, Territory of Hawaii, Seaman Brewer, faced an enemy air force whose firepower outnumbered his and his shipmates by a factor of at least a hundred to one.
With complete disregard of his personal safety during a battle which would result in the sinking of his ship with a loss of 2,390 souls, he downed two Japanese Zeros and one Japanese Kate aircraft.
In the face of the unexpected and overwhelming enemy fire, Seaman Brewer manned his 50-caliber antiaircraft machine gun, and despite having been physically wounded from Japanese 20 mm canon fire, sprayed bullets into the teeth of the enemy aircraft screaming directly at him, demonstrated great personal valor by manning his duty station, and continued to fire at oncoming enemy aircraft despite explosions, smoke, fire, and enemy bullets all around him.
Displaying uncharacteristic bravery and valor as many of his shipmates slept, Seaman Brewer remained at his duty station until an enemy bomb exploded the ammunition magazine of his ship, instantly killing him and hundreds of his shipmates.
Seaman Brewer’s superior professional skills and bravery reflect great credit upon himself, the United States Navy, and the Naval Service. Entered the Naval Service from North Carolina.
By direction of the President,
Frank Knox
Secretary of the Navy
Jessie looked up at Ellie.
“There’s something else in the envelope,” Ellie said.
Jessie looked into the bottom of the envelope again and found a small handwritten note.
Department of the Navy
Office of the Secretary
Washington
December 19, 1941
Dear Mrs. Brewer,
It is with both joy and sadness that I have, by direction of President Roosevelt, signed the citation awarding your late husband the Navy Cross. This is the highest award given by the Navy for bravery. The President and I have personally discussed your husband’s actions. He has asked that I convey to you his deep appreciation for the sacrifice your family has made and to reassure you that your husband will never be forgotten.
With warmest personal regards,
Frank Knox
“I’ve never shown that citation or the letter to anyone before, Jessie. I had planned on showing it first to Little Billy when he was old enough to read it and understand it.”
Jessie looked up at her. “I don’t understand.”
“Come with me upstairs for a moment.” Ellie motioned for Jessie to stand. She gently laid her hand on Jessie’s back and walked with her, side-by-side up the stairs to Little Billy’s bedroom.
With the soft light streaming in, Ellie glanced over at the nightstand beside the boy’s bed. As she suspected, the photograph of Billy in his sailor’s uniform had been moved. She whispered to Jessie, “Step into the bedroom with me. I want you to see something.”
The two women stood next to the boy’s bed. He was laying on his back, his face up, mouth still half open. On his chest was what looked like the cardboard back of an eight-by-ten-inch picture frame, which was being guarded by his little hand.
Ellie gently pried the boy’s hand from the photo and set the official U.S. Navy portrait of Seaman Billy Brewer back on the nightstand between the picture of the USS Arizona and the picture of Little Billy and Billy, Sr. together at the beach.
“He does this about every night,” Ellie whispered. “When I checked on him thirty minutes ago, the picture was on the nightstand. But he usually wakes up wanting his daddy then reaches for the picture. He’s been doing this since the funeral.”
Jessie wiped her eyes.
“Come on, let’s go back downstairs,” Ellie said.
They descended the staircase back down into the living room. Ellie motioned for Jessie to sit down. Then Ellie did the same, took a sip of her almost-empty wine glass, and looked Jessie in the eyes.
“Jessie, I’ve never told you this. In fact, I’ve never mentioned it to anybody. But it’s true. I married Billy for the wrong reasons. I married him to get back at Walter for dumping me for you.
“Not only did I marry him for the wrong reason, but I didn’t love him. I was still in love with Walter at the time.
“But then something began to change. You and Walter started having kids, and well, I got pregnant. At first I was reluctant, since I wasn’t in love with the baby’s father. But when Little Billy arrived, something happened to my perspective.
“Billy was so very good with our son. And Little Billy worshipped the ground his father walked on.
“You know I grew up wealthy. I won’t lie. I still am very wealthy. I was an only child. Somehow, the relationship Billy had with our son was something I never imagined having with my mother or my father.
“My mother and father are good people. My father is in many ways like Walter. He was sort of a country boy with a down-to-earth set of values. In fact, when Walter and I met, the gossip circles in Plymouth said we were an odd couple, and we were. Sort of like the aristocrat’s daughter and a poor tobacco farmer’s grandson. That’s not the way I felt, but that’s what my mother’s blue-haired social friends were gossiping about.
“Anyway, I was in love with Walter. I’d never been in love with anyone. Never been dumped by anyone. But I don’t think he trusted me.” Ellie looked down.
“The thing with Billy?” Jessie asked.
“You know?” Ellie looked surprised.
“Ellie, Walter hasn’t said a whole lot about his background with you, but he did mention the incident at the barn.”
“It was as if I had a self-destructive personality back in those days. I was dating a guy with real substance. It was a strange feeling. I’d always had luck in the men department, but most guys in the social scene were so superficial. Then Walter came along, but it was like I couldn’t be satisfied. Like I couldn’t settle for just one man.
“Billy and I had nothing in common. He was a good-looking, strapping athlete. In a perverse way, I thought it would be exciting to have a secret, physical thing going on with my boyfriend’s athletic-but-dumber brother. So I’d meet Billy during the day then date Walter at night. Turns out, I was the dumb one. I got caught. Then I got dumped. That was a first, too. Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes, I need to hear it,” Jessie said.
“When Walter caught us stuck in the mud that day by the barn, he was furious. He dropped me like a hot potato and turned cold as ice. It was pretty soon after that his grandfather died. I think he and Billy started getting along after that, but he was still cold toward me. It drove me crazy. Made me feel ashamed. Then around Thanksgiving of that year, I did something I’d never done. I wrote him an apology letter. You wouldn’t believe the pride I swallowed to do that. In the letter, I asked him if he would escort me to the Christmas Dance at the country club. He accepted. So I swallowed my pride on two fronts. First an apology—which I never did back then—and then asking a man for a date.”
“Now you’re getting into territory I’m not familiar with,” Jessie said.
“Jessie, would you mind if I got another glass of wine? I think I’ll need it.”
Jessie smiled. “Only if you bring me some sweet iced tea.”
“Done.” Ellie walked into the kitchen, poured the respective beverages of choice, and returned with her wine and Jessie’s tea.
“So, where was I?”
“The club dance,” Jessie said.
“Ah, yes,” Ellie said. “Walter took me to the dance, and that’s when the romance sort of rekindled. By Christmas Eve, just three weeks later, we were engaged.”
Jessie sipped her tea. “Then what happened?”
What happened is he met you.
“Our engagement started out with a fight between me and my mother. I wanted to get married on August 19, 1930, which was my birthday. My mother thought that was a bad idea because that day was a weekday. Anyway, we were two spoiled, strong-willed women locking horns in a debate over a wedding date, and I think that made Walter uncomfortable.”
Ellie sipped her wine. “By April, he postponed the engagement. I’ll never forget that moment. He had asked me to go for a walk down along the Roanoke River, behind the stores on Water Street. He suggested that we should ‘postpone’ the engagement until my mother and I came to an agreement on the wedding date. I got mad and threw his ring back at him.”
Her eyes glanced down at the diamond on Jessie’s finger.
I threw that ring on your finger back at him.
“I accused him of seeing someone else, which he denied. The next time I saw him was June at his house in Jamesville.”
“I remember that day.” Jessie said. “The day that father and I came to the back door asking Walter for help after our house was ransacked. And you were there,” Jessie said.
“Right.” Ellie met Jessie’s eyes. “That was the first time I ever saw you. Or even knew about you.”
“I remember that like yesterday.” Jessie wiped her eyes. “I was shocked to see you at his house.” Jessie’s eyes were watering again. “I was already an emotional wreck from them tearing up our house and killing our dogs, but I kind of wondered about you too,” Jessie said.
“I’ve often wondered what Walter must have been thinking at the moment,” Ellie said.
“Now that I think back on it, it was rather amusing,” Jessie said. “Walter was trying to hide one woman from the other, and we both showed up at the same time, uninvited, at his house on a Sunday afternoon.”
Both women smiled. Then Ellie continued. “Anyway, I left his house that Sunday, June sixth, and I didn’t see him again until that day in the train station in Rocky Mount when you returned from your honeymoon. I didn’t even know he’d gotten engaged until I bumped into Billy, who informed me that he’d gotten married and was off on his honeymoon.”
“You know, that wasn’t right of Walter,” Jessie said. “I mean the two of you had been engaged only nine months earlier.”
“No, it wasn’t. And I let him know. Anyway, I was hurt and mad. So I sort of coaxed Billy into proposing to get even. It was immature, I know.”
“You two did appear to be a mismatch.”
“We were. And I didn’t love him, at least not at first. But over the years, though there was never much of a romantic spark between us, I grew to love Billy for who he was. He was very loyal to me as a husband. Yes, he lived in Walter’s shadow, but he would have done anything for me. In his own way, he tried hard to please me. Like when he would pick flowers and give them to me. Or plan special trips, day trips, to Nags Head or to Greenville for a movie. Nothing made him happier than when he did something to bring a smile to my face. But I didn’t smile at him enough. I was so darned hard to please. How I regret that now.”
Ellie felt her eyes beginning to water. “But the thing I grew to love most about Billy was how he loved those children. He was so affectionate, always holding hands with Little Billy, always holding Margaret in his arms. He showered them both with kisses—thousands of kisses and hugs—all the time. Little Billy refused to go to bed until his daddy cuddled with him and helped him say his prayers.”
Ellie dabbed her eye with a handkerchief. “What I’m trying to say to you, Jessie, is that Billy was a good man. I grew to love him for who he was and what he taught me about family. He taught me that there is nothing eternal on this earth except our relationships. He invested time in his family. Family, he taught me, is an institution far more important than any romantic spark we might be looking for. Billy created lasting memories with his children—with his family—that will never be forgotten. With Little Billy, he hunted, fished, and played baseball. With Margaret, he made cookies and took her on picnics down at Albemarle Sound. And he will never, ever be forgotten.”
She glanced over at a picture of Billy in his Navy uniform, then looked at Jessie. “I say all that to assure you that I would never do anything to disrupt your family. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. And if you want me to stay away, I will.”
Jessie stood, walked over to her, and embraced her. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”