May 20, 1952
Dear Rose,
I seem to be writing quite often lately. I hope I’m not annoying you. From your last letter, I don’t think I am. I don’t think this last bit of news will be boring.
The FBI paid us another visit. They said there was some suspicion that, since ours were the only viable loan applications in this mess, we might be a part of the scam. However, once everything in our explanations checked out, we were no longer under suspicion. That’s a relief. I can tell you that.
When Aaron told the agents that he might file a lawsuit against the bank, they told him to save his money. It was pretty certain the bank was going to lose its charter and go out of business. They also told us not to move or leave town until the investigation was completed. When we asked how long that might be, they said ten or twelve months.
On the home front, the twins came downstairs in their nightgowns again. I scolded them and told them to wear their bathrobes even if Aaron was not home.
I meant to tell you in my last letter that the Juneau Trust Bank did go out of business. The newspaper reported that one of the bank officers stole more than $300,000 and disappeared. The other people at the bank were questioned by the Juneau Times, but no one had suspected anything out of the ordinary.
The culprit—or culprits—were very clever. Not a trace of them could be found. No one knows where they went—or where they might be now. The papers said they were so thorough that they left not a single clue. I’ll write again soon.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
May 26, 1952
Dear Rose,
I wouldn’t be writing so soon, but the strangest thing happened yesterday. Aaron and I both received a letter in the mail. Inside was a postal money order for $2,000 and a short note from Janet Green: “By now, you know I’m gone from Juneau, but I wanted to return your money. I don’t know if you’ll get to keep the house or not. I only wanted to hurt the bank—not you. I worked at the Juneau Trust bank more than twenty years. I never cheated anyone, but when I found out I couldn’t be president because I was a woman, I wanted revenge. Anyway, good luck to you. Janet Green”
What a deal, right? I’ll write again soon.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
PS. Aaron received the same note and a postal money order for his $2,000.
Trina Brown and Aaron Mueller debated back and forth about what they should do with their money orders. Should they cash them right away? Should they hold on to them for a while? Should they inform the FBI or not? If they informed the FBI, would it throw new suspicion on them? After a week of debating, they decided to just sit on them for now. They thought it would be best to keep the letters for the time being.
On June 15, 1952, Trina was called into Tilly Jones’s office and informed that she was being offered a new position. The position was that of managing director over all patient care. It was Tilly’s position. Tilly was retiring, and she had recommended Trina as the best person to take over. Trina asked if she could think about it for a couple of days. Of course, it would mean a substantial increase in pay.
The word of Tilly’s retirement and the offer of her position to Trina was not accepted by all with enthusiasm. That afternoon, Trina accidentally heard three other nurses talking. “How do you like that? The lady from Georgia was here a little over a year—and she’s offered Tilly’s job? Can you believe that!”
When Trina heard these words, her mind was made up. She would take the job and make it work. It would be her little contribution to the advancement of black people in America—even if Alaska was only a territory of the United States.
Later that afternoon, Trina saw Sally Wilson walking down a hallway. “Sally, can I ask what bothers you about me taking over Tilly’s job? Is it my work—or the color of my skin? When you figure it out, please let me know.”
June 16, 1952
Dear Rose,
I wanted to write immediately and tell you some great news. I start in Tilly’s job next Monday. I don’t know if you knew of her retirement or not. She recommended me to be her replacement. She is staying on for two weeks to teach me everything I need to know and what my responsibilities will be.
When I told her about the lady from Georgia remark, she reminded me that prejudice is just part of our society—and I have to figure out how to handle it. She suggested I ignore it, but that was just her way of dealing with such things as they came up in her work. She said color played no part in her decision to recommend me. She strictly wanted what was best for the patients.
Aaron did something this week that was so nice. He brought home one of those new toasters. I don’t know if you’ve seen one yet. It will toast bread on both sides at one time, and it does two slices at one time. You can make the toast as dark as you like it with a setting on the front. It’s the best invention since sliced bread.
I don’t think I told you about the first time I made breakfast for the four of us. I was the first Saturday after Aaron moved in with us. I made egg omelets, toast, grits, and coffee. The twins drank milk instead of coffee. Do you know it took me two months to find a store that would order grits for me when we first moved here? The girls missed it so much that they ate it three times that day I finally got some.
Anyway, back to the first breakfast. When Aaron sat down and looked at the food, he asked, “What in the world is that white stuff?” I looked at him and said, “Have you not seen grits before?” The girls and I laughed, and I know I had a puzzled look on my face. He sort of blushed and immediately apologized. Before I could answer him, Careen said they were grits, and Cassidy said they were really good and he should try some. After two spoonfuls, Aaron said he would stick with the eggs, toast, and coffee. Careen asked Aaron why he didn’t pray before he ate like we did. She said, “God is watching, you know?” Before he could answer, I interrupted and told Careen that it was not polite to question people about their prayer life.
It’s late, and I need some sleep. I’ll write again soon.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
Aaron Mueller had written to Allen four times since he took him back to Ohio State. Allen wrote back every time he received one of his letters. So far, Aaron’s letters had been general information about arriving in Juneau, the beauty of the Alaska territory, and buying the house at 144 East Chestnut Street. He had not written about the Browns, the FBI, or the house scam.
June 2, 1952
Dear Allen,
I think it’s a good idea that you’ve decided to stay in school for the summer semester. This will help your goal of finishing your schooling early.
I really enjoyed your last letter. It was interesting to read about the engineering project you and your friends put together for the School of Engineering display, but I must admit when you started to explain the science aspect of it, I was lost.
I’ve become friends of a family by the name of Brown. The mother’s name is Trina, and there are twin girls named Careen and Cassidy. They’re from Atlanta, Georgia. The father died several years ago in an auto accident. It’s kind of ironic that they also moved to Alaska to start a new life.
I’ve been looking at a couple of stores for sale. One of them looks pretty good. An older couple in their seventies wants to retire. We’ll see.
Anyway, that’s the latest. I look forward to your next letter.
Love,
Dad
Aaron Mueller was a businessman by nature. It was one of the main reasons he helped Mueller Meat Company succeed in New York. Aaron had built on what his father started to become a very prosperous family business, but he was getting restless about not having any business to work on. He began scouring newspapers and looking at for sale signs in shop windows, but most of the owners wanted too much money for what they had to sell. So, after four days, he started a list of viable stores to check into.
Aaron inquired about a store that was owned by a Danny and Jane Adams. A sign had been carved into a piece of fine oak and hung on the front of the building:
Adam’s Antiques
This Store Owned by Danny and Jane Adams
Husband and Wife, Lovers, and Best Friends
The store specialized in antiques from Alaska. During his first week in Juneau, he had stopped in and looked around. At the time, there was no for sale sign, but by June, it was in the window.
Aaron was not sure if Danny Adams was white or black. Danny’s skin had a brownish hue, but he could not tell if it was due to genetics or a lot of time outdoors. He was not a big man, at most five feet six inches tall, but he was sort of muscular. His most striking feature was his right arm, which was cut off at the elbow. During World War I, he had been hit by three bullets. He never did get the full use of that arm again.
Aaron walked into the store and said, “I’ve been in here before, but there was no for sale sign then. Why now?”
“Did you notice the sign?” Danny said.
“Yes,” Aaron said.
“Well, my Jane passed away last week—so up went the sign. We owned and operated this little store together for more than thirty years. Since I don’t want to do it without her, it’s for sale—but not to just anybody. I will sell when I find someone who will care for it like we did for all those years. Not just somebody who has the money to buy it. By the way, where did you get that ugly Jeep? Park that thing out front—and you’ll scare people away. Anyway, are you interested in this store?”
Aaron said, “I have an appointment to get the Jeep painted blue. And, yes, I am interested in the store.”
“We should talk.” Danny closed the store, took Aaron into the back office, sat down, and asked, “You’re Jewish, right?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I’ve made a hobby of noticing characteristics of people. You’ve been in here three times. I noticed your way of talking and some of your mannerisms. You’re Jewish—probably from New York City—but don’t worry. I’m not biased toward anyone.”
After discussing their backgrounds for two hours, they agreed on a $10,000 down payment and $600 a month until the full price of $39,000 was paid. Danny agreed to stay on for sixty days to help Aaron learn everything. In addition, Danny put in an extra clause: “Since neither Jane nor Danny Adams have any living relatives, if he should pass on, Aaron Mueller owns the store outright.”
June 26, 1952
Dear Rose,
It seems like I just wrote to you, which I did, but I want to tell you what happened on Saturday night.
The four of us went to the Bay View restaurant to celebrate Aaron buying Danny Adams’s antique store in downtown Juneau. Danny Adams, the man who sold the store to Aaron, met us there.
Halfway through our meal, the waitress brought a family of four to be seated at the table next to ours. There was a dad, a mom, and two boys. One of the boys was in a class with the twins at school. When they saw him, both Careen and Cassidy said, “Hi, Ronnie.” Ronnie said hi back to them.
Suddenly, the dad said to the waitress, “Could you sit us somewhere else? I don’t want my family to sit next to a table with black people.” The waitress told him this was the next table the restaurant was using. Then this guy got louder, and we all stopped eating and looked at him. Next, he almost yelled when he asked to see Ben, the owner.
When the waitress brought him out, Ben asked, “What’s the problem, Mr. Reese?”
“I don’t want my family to sit this close to black people.”
“Excuse me. What did you say?” asked Ben.
“I don’t want my family to sit this close to black people,” he repeated.
Rose, I want to tell you, Ben’s face turned so red with anger, and at the same time, he said, “Mr. Reese, you take your family and you get out of my restaurant and never come back. And I mean never.”
Reese started to say, “I’ve been coming—”
Before Reese could say anything else, Ben pointed to the door and calmly said, “Get out!” He turned to us and said, “Your dinner is on me folks, enjoy.” He went back into the kitchen.
We just finished our meal and went home.
I’ll write again soon.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
When they were almost finished with their dinner, Ben came out and explained why he threw the Reeses out of the restaurant. He told them that in World War II, he served under General Patton for two years. At the Battle of the Bulge, he got separated from his unit. He was hiding in a group of small trees and was sure he was surrounded by German troops. He thought he was going to die. In the middle of the night, two soldiers from his unit found him. They had been quietly searching for two hours for three missing soldiers. The other two were found dead, but they took Ben safely back. The two soldiers who rescued him were both black.
That, he told them, was when he pledged to himself to never allow himself to be biased against black people again. Those two men saved his life. “In fact,” he said, “I will not allow myself to be biased about anyone.”
“Can you imagine what Reese would have said if he knew I was a Jew?” Aaron said.
“Mom, what is a Jew?” Cassidy asked when they were back in the Jeep.
“I think you should ask Mr. Mueller. He would know much better than me since he is one,” Trina said.
“Yeah, Mr. Mueller,” asked Careen. “What is a Jew?”
It was the first time Aaron Mueller ever felt like he was being put on the spot about being a Jew. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer the question. In fifty-two years, he had never been asked such a question. He kind of stumbled around as he tried to decide what to say. Finally, he said, “It’s kind of like a religion.”
“What do you mean?” Cassidy said. “It’s either a religion or it’s not a religion—so which is it?”
Trina felt like the girls were being a bit rude, but these were questions she would like answered, so she stayed out of the conversation. Aaron even sounded a bit annoyed with the questions, but the girls persisted.
Careen said, “I think it is not a religion because people who belong to a religion pray. We’ve never seen you pray, right, Mr. Mueller?”
“Our grandma and grandpa taught us that people who pray go to heaven,” Cassidy said. “Don’t you want to go to heaven, Mr. Mueller?”
It was a twenty-minute drive from the restaurant to 144 East Chestnut Street, and the twins continued their quizzing the whole time from the back seat of that newly painted Jeep.
When they reached the driveway of 144 East Chestnut Street, Trina said, “I think that’s enough questions for one day. Let’s go up and get ready for bed.” Once the girls had gone upstairs, she found Aaron in the kitchen and said, “Aaron, if the girls’ questions bother you, I’ll have them stop doing it.”
“No, don’t do that,” answered Aaron. “It’s okay. If it starts to bother me, I’ll say something, but I don’t want them to feel restrained around me. Those twins and I have had too good a relationship since that first day when I sat with them on the front porch. It’s something I’m afraid I didn’t foster enough with my son, Allen.”
“Okay,” Trina said. “Would you like a piece of apple pie?”
“Sure, sounds good,” answered Aaron.
The next morning was Sunday, and Aaron was up early. He was dressed up, and he had everything set for breakfast—he even got out the grits. The rest included eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, and milk for the girls. He didn’t intend to eat any grits, but he was making this breakfast for Trina and the girls. He knew they went to church at ten o’clock, and at seven thirty, he knocked on Trina’s door and said, “We need to get going. Church is at ten, and I have breakfast started.”
“This is nice of you,” Trina told Aaron as she sat down at the kitchen table. “But what does all this mean?”
“It means I’m going to church with you today—if that’s okay with you,” answered Aaron.
“It depends on why you’re going with us,” Trina said.
“I want to learn about your church and your faith,” Aaron said. “After last night, the girls got me thinking. I’ve always thought I didn’t need religion—Judaism or any other—but they got me to thinking that maybe I do. So, if it’s okay, this is where I begin.”
On the way home, the first five minutes were silent.
Trina finally asked, “So what did you think, Aaron?”
“Well, I can see that you folks do sincerely believe in your faith,” Aaron said. “You also truly believe in Jesus. Indeed, I somewhat envy you for that. Beyond this, I’m not sure yet what else I think today, but right now, I have to go meet Danny Adams at the store. We’re opening at one o’clock this afternoon.”
Aaron Mueller was an early riser. It was a rare day that he was not up by six, a leftover habit from the meat business in New York. He was the one who made sure the trucks were on the road by six thirty—Monday through Friday.
Trina had become an early riser since being promoted to Tilly’s job. Luckily for her and Aaron, he liked to shower in the evening, and she always showered in the morning.
As the two of them sat down to what had become their usual Monday morning breakfast of coffee with peanut butter on toast, Trina asked, “Did the girls annoy you with all their questions on Saturday night?”
“Just a bit,” admitted Aaron. “But it did get me to thinking, I guess. I have to admit I’ve never left room in my life for religion, Jewish or otherwise. My wife, Phyllis, was raised Catholic and faithfully practiced her faith right up to her death. When Allen came along, she wanted to raise him in the Catholic faith. And since I wasn’t into practicing any religion, it was always okay with me.”
“And so, Aaron Mueller, may I ask what you do believe?”
“I can assure you I do believe there is a God—”
“Well,” Careen said as she walked into the kitchen, “that’s a good way to start.”
“Don’t be rude, Careen!” Trina said in a stern voice.
Aaron looked at Careen and said, “That’s okay, Trina. I know she means well. I’m reminded of my grandmother, who had seven kids. She used to say she liked kids between five and fourteen—because before five, they’re total care. And after fourteen, we’re all a pain in the neck!”
“I’d say you had one smart grandmother,” Trina said.
“Hey, are you two inferring something about Cassidy and me as teenagers?” asked Careen.
Aaron said, “If the shoe fits wear it.”
“And what else did your grandmother say?” asked Careen.
“She told us not to marry first crushes—unless you’ve only tried bologna sandwiches and don’t want to know about any others,” answered Aaron. “And about God, my grandmother believed it was the answer to the question, ‘Why?’”
The conversation could have easily gone on, but Aaron and Trina had to leave. Trina had to train three new nurses, and Aaron had to meet Danny Adams to help with their three-day under-new-management sale.
Aaron was perfectly willing to take Danny’s advice about matters regarding the store. He figured Danny would not have stayed in business so long unless he knew what he was doing. It turned out Danny was very right. They kept the store open from nine until nine for three straight days, and they did a ton of business.
On the third night, Ed Reese and his wife, Sarah, walked into the store. Aaron’s intention, when he saw them, was to ask them to leave, but as he walked toward them, Ed Reese held up his hand and said, “Before you toss us out, I want to apologize for the way I acted the last time I saw you. I was totally out of line. I hope you and your family will accept my apologies. I can sometimes be very rude.”
“He will say something before he even thinks,” Sarah said. “It gets him into trouble. I remember the time it happened in our new synagogue—”
Aaron said, “You mean you’re Jewish?”
“Yes,” she answered.
Aaron said, “So am I—although not a very practicing one, I admit. Is there a synagogue here in Juneau?”
Sarah said, “Yes, but a very small one. No rabbi yet and only twenty families, but we get together every two weeks and discuss our faith. You’re welcome to come sometime if you would like.”
“I just might do that,” Aaron said. “I will convey your apologies to the family. Knowing them as I do, they’ll just say let’s forget about it and let bygones be bygones.”
Ed said, “Ronnie told us the twins are smart in school—and they’re pretty nice people too!”