June 2, 1951
Dear Rose,
I can’t believe how much Tilly Jones is like you. I remember the first time I met you. I was struggling to get Tommy Watkins up for his lunch. He had gone for a nap, and the staff had left him in bed. I came to work at ten o’clock, and the other five men from his room were already at lunch.
You came along and saw me struggling to get him up. You came in and said, “What’s your name, young lady?”
I told you it was Trina Jackson.
You said, “Trina Jackson, here’s your first lesson of the week.” You leaned over and said, “Tommy, the others are having your favorite egg salad sandwiches for lunch today. If you don’t want any, that’s fine.”
Before you could say anything more, Tommy got up, put on his shoes, and said, “I love egg salad sandwiches.”
As Tommy headed to lunch, you looked at me and said, “The lesson is, Trina Jackson, most of these people have a pattern to their actions. Learn these patterns, and your job will be much easier.”
It was the first of many lessons you taught me. I’ll never forget it. I have been searching for people’s patterns ever since. I guess there are little tricks in every trade. You taught me so much.
Then you took me into your office and showed me your board of lists. I counted eleven lists posted on that board. Some were personal, like “pick up grandson on Tuesday,” but most were aspects of work, like “train new nurses.”
Later that day, when it was time for exercises, Tommy did not want to get out of the lounge chair he was sitting in. I said, “Tommy, the others are going to exercise class. You don’t have to go—”
Tommy got up and said, “I love exercise class.” He walked to the gym right away.
You taught me many lessons during our time together. Thanks again. I know I’m not supposed to say thanks so much, but I can’t help it.
By the way, Tilly explained what “Let’s go!” meant. When the two of you were nurses in World War II and you knew wounded might be coming in at any time, even if you were sleeping, you’d keep your clothes on. When you heard the call for nurses, one of you would yell, “Let’s go!
On a sad note, I lost my first patient here four days ago. His name was Joey Smith. He had been in a wheelchair for six years, and he died from a heart attack.
Well, I have to get the twins off to bed, so I’m ending this letter.
By the way, I think I may have found a nice house for us to rent. I know it’s soon after getting here, but it looks pretty good—and we’re getting tired of this little apartment.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
When she received the letter, Rose smiled because she did remember meeting Trina Jackson and teaching her to handle Tommy Watkins as well as some of the other men they worked with at the Georgia rehab hospital. She also smiled when she read about “Let’s go!” and how it came about for Tilly and herself.
In 1942, Rose and Tilly both graduated from nursing school. Tilly graduated in California, and Rose graduated in Ohio. Both felt the patriotic call and joined the US Army Nursing Corp.
Six weeks later, both found themselves at a base close to the fighting in the Pacific Theatre during World War II. On their second week at the base, they were told to get some rest because there would probably be wounded coming in the middle of the night. “Well,” Tilly told Trina, “Rose and I went to bed in our pajamas, and at around two o’clock in the morning, the shouts for needing nurses woke us. We didn’t have time to change clothes. The head nurse told us to get in there right now—pajamas or no pajamas. We were the laughingstock of that little base for a month. After that, we hardly ever wore our pajamas. And whenever shouts for nurses came, we’d yell, ‘Let’s go!’ to each other.”
As Rose was reading Trina’s letter, she reminisced about how Trina cared about the men in their hospital right from the start and how she treated Jack North with such care. Jack suffered from several conditions. His right arm was deformed and hardly functioned. When he tried to talk, he was barely understood because his words came out slurred. Some of the other men would poke fun at him until Trina and Rose walked in and caught them in the act. Trina gave them a look that would scare anyone. She scolded them and said if they ever did that to Jack again, she would stop doing special favors for any of them. To Rose’s knowledge, they never did it again. Jack was a World War I veteran who had sustained his injuries being too close to an exploding grenade.
When Rose read Trina’s sad note about Joey Smith, she recalled how Trina’s first loss of a patient at Georgia Rehab almost caused Trina to quit that kind of work. Tim Wilson had been confined to a wheelchair due to a rare form of Parkinson’s disease. It caused Tim to shake in his left side, but more severe was the stiffness in his muscles. Many times, he could not even lift a spoon up to his mouth. As Trina was feeding Tim dinner, she suddenly felt an urge to use the bathroom. While she was only gone ten minutes, another patient put a piece of meat in Tim’s mouth without anyone noticing. Tim choked to death.
Trina and other staff members tried to revive him with no success, and Trina blamed herself. She was depressed for a week. She missed three days of work, and she told Rose she thought she might leave her job. A week after Jack died, Rose pointed out to Trina how valuable she was and the type of care she always gave the men. Rose explained how only certain kinds of people could do that work and how it took a lot of patience and a certain caring for people. Rose convinced Trina that the patients needed her. She made her see that it was an accident, period, and Trina decided to stay.
Rose fell asleep reading Trina’s letter a second time. She was so proud of her friend, but she had really begun to miss her.
Aaron Muller was not a man to look back and lament decisions he’d made. He was always a look-forward-to-the-future kind of guy.
For twenty years, he had been the head of the family business. By September 1950, they owned eleven trucks and had twenty-eight employees. Yes, many of the employees were relatives, but if someone didn’t carry their weight, he never hesitated to fire them. In fact, since he had taken over the company from his father, he had fired nine people. They were all related to his family in some way.
Aaron expected a bit more from relatives because they never needed to compete for a job. He was willing to help them, but in return, he expected a bit more diligence.
A month after accepting his brothers’ offer, Aaron started feeling like his life was had upside down. He didn’t have to get out of bed in the morning. He had money in the bank. The final settlement left him with $92,000 in the bank. Allen was set and happy at Ohio State. Yes, he didn’t have a wife, but at fifty years old, that didn’t bother him. He figured if it was to be, it would happen someday. He just wasn’t going to pursue that now.
“What does bother me, Max, is that for the first time in my life I have no definite purpose,” Aaron said at Max’s coffee shop in Queens. Aaron had been stopping at Max’s place two or three times a week for three years to get a morning coffee along with a bagel and cream cheese—always a bagel with cream cheese. The two of them had nothing to gain from each other except another man to talk with. They’d talk for a half hour or so about politics, kids, business, or whatever. And they would always part by saying, “See you next time. Have a good week, buddy.”
“Why don’t you go to Alaska?” Max asked that morning.
“Alaska? Why Alaska?” Aaron asked. “That’s really a faraway place.”
“Why Alaska?” said Max. “Because it’s a different place. That’s reason enough!”
Max told Aaron that two years after he got married, he was drafted into the army in February 1941. After the war, he had been stationed in Juneau, Alaska. Three years later, Karen told him she would leave him if they didn’t move back to New York to be near family.
“I loved it,” added Max. “But Karen would not stay. So here I am in New York.”
That night, Aaron made a decision as quickly as he had accepted his brothers’ offer to buy his share of the company. Alaska it is!
He had a new purpose.
October 2, 1951
Dear Rose,
This certainly wasn’t one of the most eventful weeks I’ve ever had, but it wasn’t all dull either. I did get into it with one of the staff aides, Bill Miller, on Wednesday. He is a big guy—I’d say around 260 pounds and not an ounce of fat. He works out at a gym, probably four days a week, from what he’s said. He was getting into it with Bobby Nash. Bobby Nash is one of our troublemaker patients, and he talks all the time. I mean, literally all the time. You and I know how annoying that can be. I remember Ray Tiller and the troubles he caused.
Bill Miller was so frustrated that he called Bobby Nash a “lousy troublemaker.” You and I realize we’ve all had these thoughts at times. This can be very frustrating work, but one of the first things you taught me is that you cannot express it out loud. You taught me to think, They can’t help the way they are, and I’m glad I’m not like them. I still use that method of coping. Well, Bill Miller said it out loud, was heard by a supervisor, and got time off without pay.
He took it pretty hard. Tilly told me it was the second time he had been given time off with no pay. The first time, he got three days off with no pay. He said his mom threatened to throw him out of her house if it happened again, but Tilly said she won’t do it. His mom needs the rent money, and he pays her to live at home. Tilly said she’s met her, and she’s not a very nice lady with a drinking problem.
By the way, I wanted to tell you the girls have made a few friends at school. Their school has only six black kids in it, which is a new experience for my girls. All in all, I’d say both are adjusting well.
I don’t mean to lay my troubles on you, but the past two days have been very hard on me. I went to the house that I thought might be good for us, and I started thinking about Mark. It’s been two years. How long will it take for me to get over him?
I want to leave you with a positive note. The girls and I are going on a tour of some of the sights in this part of Alaska on Saturday. The scenery is awesome here, and we’re looking forward to the tour. Oh, how I miss him.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
Rose was a bit surprised that Trina had not written sooner about missing Mark. They had been so devoted to each other in many big ways, like love and loyalty and sharing their faith, and in many little ways, like sharing their experiences at work. They would leave greeting cards for each other around the house—cards of love and thank-you notes—and they would spend time with Careen and Cassidy. That was their life.
They had met just by chance. Mark Brown owned a small moving van company in Atlanta. He had grown up quite poor on a farm twenty miles west of Atlanta. From an early age, Mark had been determined that he would not stay poor. So, when he got out of the navy in 1941, he started his own company.
Originally, he had only one employee, himself, but by January 1944, the company consisted of six trucks and eleven employees. Mark had never seriously dated anyone. His energies were always aimed at building a successful business.
His life changed one night in May 1944 when he took time off to help sponsor a black charity dinner. Trina happened to be working part-time for the catering company, and by chance, Mark had just sat down when Trina appeared at his table of eight. She went around the table to fill the water glasses. When Trina appeared, Mark immediately felt like he was seeing one of the most gorgeous females he had ever laid eyes on. She was beautiful. Mark knew he was gawking, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
When dinner was over, he followed her to the kitchen. “Hi, my name is Mark Brown. May I ask you a question?”
“What?” Trina was a little startled.
“Are you married?” asked Mark.
“No, may never be,” she answered as she walked away. Trina had dated several men in the past three years, but no one was interesting enough to get serious.
Mark didn’t push it, but he knew the owner of the catering company. The next day, he went there and got Trina’s home address. That evening, he went there with an assortment of fresh flowers.
When the bell rang, Careen and Cassidy ran to answer it. They opened the door and yelled, “Mom, there’s a man here with flowers!”
When Trina appeared, Mark handed her the flowers and a note from Jake Sanders, the owner of the catering company. The note was on company stationery: “It’s okay, Trina. He’s a nice guy—just talk with him. Jake”
As the twins peeked through the window, Mark and Trina talked for two hours. Trina was very reserved at first. Even though she knew and trusted Jake, this man came out of the blue.
“Can I take you out to dinner?” Mark said.
“What about the girls?”
“Bring them along with us,” Mark said. He had learned from Jake that they were her twin daughters.
“Okay,” she finally said. “If you are sure you don’t mind the twins coming with us.”
The following Saturday night, the four of them went to dinner at Tony’s Food Palace, a fairly new restaurant in downtown Atlanta. The restaurant had a fabulous salad bar, specialized in roast beef and lamb dinners, and never had fewer than forty items on the dessert menu.
In the restaurant lobby, there was a wall where customers could write comments about the desserts. Trina was pleased to see how Mark treated and included the twins in their conversation.
Later that night, as she tried to fight the urge, Trina had to admit she was beginning to like Mark Brown. That was the start, and one year later, in May 1946, Mark and Trina became man and wife at the First Gospel Church in Fairfield.
That night, after making love, Trina whispered, “If I ever doubted my feelings for you, Mark Brown, I doubt them no more.”
Mark whispered, “If your feelings for me are even a fraction of what mine are for you, then you’re head over heels in love with me.”
When Mark asked Trina where she would like to honeymoon, she said, “I’ve always wanted to see the Empire State Building. It’s supposed to be the tallest building in the United States—and maybe the world. I’d also like to see the Statue of Liberty. I remember reading about them in school.”
They drove to New York City for ten days—making love every night—visited tourist sites every day, including the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty, and fell deeper in love.
After that first dinner together, Mark Brown often wished he had known Sam and Ginger Jackson. They had raised Trina, Careen, and Cassidy, but Sam Jackson had died of a massive heart attack in early 1945. Ginger had passed away six months before they met at the charity dinner. As the only relative, Trina had inherited their home in Fairfield and was living there with the two girls.
When Mark and Trina came back from the honeymoon, they moved all of Trina and the twins’ belongings to Mark’s house. It was more spacious, and it was still in the Fairfield community. Mark Brown was never one to show off or flaunt the fact that he owned his own business and had a bigger income than most people—both black and white—in and around Atlanta. However, his house was the one area where he did splurge. The house was situated on a dead-end street. The entry was large and ornate. The oak stairs leading to the second floor were situated just ten feet from the large front door. Immediately to the left of the entryway was a formal living room. Off of the living room was a large dining room. And the entire back of the house was a pantry and kitchen. A hallway off the kitchen led to Mark’s study and back to the front entrance. The second floor was beautifully laid out with four bedrooms and two full bathrooms. All four of the bedrooms were spacious and had sizable windows that looked out to the yard. It was a far cry from the two-bedroom, one-floor farmhouse he had grown up in.
Trina and the twins fell in love with the house. Since it was in Fairfield, the twins, could still attend Madison School. They had simply moved from one side of Fairfield to the other. It was in this setting that Mark, Trina, and the twins were living their loving, tight-knit family life when the policeman stood on the front porch and told them of Mark’s death on May 6, 1949.
On that fateful night, Trina Brown got down on her knees and prayed: “Oh, dear God, please help me, I don’t know what to do!” She must have prayed those words twenty or thirty times before she crawled into bed and fell asleep.
January 3, 1952
Dear Rose,
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve written to you. I apologize. Things have really been hectic around here. The twins were in a Christmas play, and the practices required a lot of time. Careen was one of the magi because they wanted someone black, and she was perfectly willing to be a man in order to have a part. Cassidy played the part of a shepherd. You, no doubt, remember Cassidy is shier than Careen. As a shepherd, all Cassidy had to do was stand there—with no lines to say.
I hope all is well in Atlanta. I hope you had a nice Christmas and a happy New Year. I hope my Christmas card got to you in time. I didn’t get to mail them until late.
By the way, a new patient arrived last month who acts so much like Danny Houser. He doesn’t get along well in groups. The staff decided the seven of us would be assigned to watch just for one day each week. Fred Suchen has all the same traits as Danny. He talks most of the time, he talks too loud, and he claims he knows everybody. Everyone he meets he claims he’s known for a long time. He asks every female he meets if she is married—even if her husband is sitting right beside her. It’s Danny all over again.
Since I’m the only one here who has had experience with someone like this, I’m advising the others on how to deal with situations that come up. It sort of reminds me of those early days when you took me under your wing and taught me how to do this work.
You should write a book about the best ways to work with physically handicapped and mentally slow people. It sure would help a lot of people who are just starting out in this type of work. I don’t know what I would have done if you had not been there to guide me.
I wasn’t going to write this much, but I guess I did. I’m now trying to find a house for us to buy since the house we were going to rent went to someone else. I suspect the owner didn’t want to rent to black people. I won’t wait so long to write again.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
“What? Are you crazy?” Josh said. “Do you realize how far Alaska is?”
Aaron said, “Yes, but what does that matter? I already bought the house. I am determined to build a new life for myself. What difference does it make if it’s around the corner or in Alaska? Allen is set in school. My two brothers are set in business. I have money in the bank. So why not?”
“Because it’s so far—that’s why,” Josh said. “You may never get back here.”
“You’re being a tad unreasonable.”
“I still say it is too far away,” Josh said.
“Well, our parents came from Holland,” Aaron said.
“Yeah, but those were different times,” answered Josh. “Besides, I’ll bet Alaska is farther than Holland.”
“I think you’re right, but I’m still going,” replied Aaron.
They continued sipping coffee in Max’s Café.
Max said, “Good move, Aaron.” He had known the brothers for several years.
Josh said, “Well, I have to admit you’ve been successful at everything you’ve ever tried, Aaron. I guess you can make this a success story too, but I don’t imagine there is much of a call for Kosher food products in Alaska. Alaska isn’t even a state, you know. It’s a territory of the United States. This was originally Max’s idea, right?”
“Slow down, Josh,” Aaron said. “Yes, Max gave me the idea, but he didn’t try to talk me into the decision. After his suggestion, my curiosity took me to the library to research Alaska. The more I read, the more I got interested in the idea. Well, two months ago, I made the decision to do it. I kept the decision to myself, and you know me, once I’ve made a decision, I rarely go back.”
“Yes, I agree, Aaron. That’s one of the reasons for our company’s success over the past twenty years. At least it will give us a place to take a long vacation.”
“There you go!” said Max.
All three men had a good laugh, and then Aaron explained how he had bought the house in Alaska. In his research, he found a real estate trade magazine with an ad for houses for sale in Alaska. When he wrote to A-to-Z Real Estate Company in Juneau, they wrote back that they currently only had twelve houses for sale. They sent information on those twelve, and they also sent information about Juneau Trust Bank. For just $2,000 down, the bank would finance the remaining cost of any house in and around Juneau.
Aaron said, “To make sure this was on the up-and-up, I wrote to the bank and inquired if the information from A-to-Z Real Estate was correct. I received a letter back from the bank that it was correct, and they sent an application. It came from Janet Green, a vice president of Juneau Trust Bank. I did my due diligence and checked with our bank to see if they could check on Juneau Trust Bank for me. Tom Smith at our bank called me and said it was the second-largest bank in Alaska. He said they had an A-1 rating with the government bank agency.
“So I picked out a house from the information I received and sent a certified amount for $2,000. Two weeks later, I received a letter confirming my purchase, a deed, and a key to the house. My first payment is due in sixty days. I leave a week from tomorrow on a train to Seattle and then a boat to Juneau. I’m excited, Josh!”
“What about your house and belongings?” asked Josh.
“I signed papers for Wayland Real Estate to sell the house. I’ve arranged for the car to be sent to Allen in Columbus, and I sold Phyllis’s car last month. I’ve donated all the furnishings and my clothes to the Jewish Lady’s Charity group. I only kept enough for me to get there, and it all fits in one suitcase. By the way, I’ve written my new address on this card for you. It’s 144 East Chestnut Street, Juneau, Alaska. It’s not that bad, Josh. Our parents came to New York City from Holland.”
Josh said, “I guess the family is getting together on Sunday so everyone can say goodbye. Once a decision is made, you move on it, Aaron. Make sure you write. I still think you’re crazy, but if that is what you really want to do, go for it!”