On Monday, Careen and Cassidy decided to help out Aaron. Since he wasn’t sure what being a Jew meant—even though he was one—they went to the library to research and find out what it was to be one. With the help of the librarian, they found four books about Judaism. They took two of them home to study.
By Friday night, they were more confused than before they started their little project.
After dinner, Careen said, “Mr. Mueller, we think we understand why you couldn’t quite explain what a Jew is.”
“What do you mean?” asked Aaron.
“Careen and I went to the library on Monday and found four books on Judaism, which is where the term Jew comes from.”
“Where is this going?” Trina asked with hint of anger in her voice.
“It’s okay,” Aaron said. “Let them continue.”
“Well, we took some notes. I’ll get them.” Cassidy ran upstairs.
“It’s no wonder you two are good students,” Aaron said. “Go on, what did you find?”
Cassidy said, “Well, being a Jew can mean that it is a religion. This means it would involve a set of prayers and certain days of worship. Usually, these prayers are said in a synagogue.”
Careen said, “There are also some atheists who are Jews. At least they call themselves Jews—”
“You’re kidding, right?” Trina said.
“No, we’re not kidding,” answered Cassidy. “We have some of these people in our own church. Grandma Jackson used to call them rainy-day Christians.”
Careen said, “Then there are those people who consider that, if you’re a Jew, you’re a part of a race. That there is a Jewish race, but these people would leave out those who had converted.”
“Then another question comes up,” Cassidy said. “Is it a culture? There are, apparently, Jews from all over the world. They have lived all over the world and have developed different traditions. Some say that Yiddish is not part of the culture, but others say it definitely is part of it. Does that mean it is or is not a culture?”
“Where is all this going, girls?” Trina asked.
Aaron said, “It’s okay. Let them continue.”
“Why?” asked Trina.
“Because I find all this kind of interesting. Don’t you?”
“I guess.”
Careen said, “Some people consider it a modern nation, especially since Israel became a nation recently, but that involves politics—and we don’t know much about that yet.”
“Thank goodness for that!” Trina said.
Cassidy said, “Anyway, that’s as much as we know now. And we were thinking it might be easier to teach you about our church and Jesus because we know a lot about that.”
Aaron smiled and said, “I appreciate all your efforts, girls, and I know your hearts are in the right place, but my wife, Phyllis, tried to get me to be a Catholic for many years.”
Trina said, “Enough for tonight, you two. Let’s go take a shower.”
Aaron thought, Trina did not tell the twins to stop this talk, but maybe to cool it for now. Maybe I should take Sarah Reese up on her offer and see if their groups can help me understand what being Jewish is all about.
When he got home from the store on Monday, Aaron realized he had forgotten to tell Trina, Careen, and Cassidy about the apology. He was so consumed at the store that he simply forgot to tell them. He did this when he got home, and the girls said Ronnie had already apologized to them at school.
Aaron said, “By the way, someone left the toothpaste on the counter in the bathroom again. I wish you guys would learn to be a bit neater.”
Allen Mueller walked through the kitchen door and said, “Ah, don’t worry about it, guys. He used to preach the same sermon to Mom and me back in New York!”
What a surprise it was! Aaron and Allen started to get tears in their eyes as they hugged each other tightly.
July 3, 1952
Dear Rose,
What a surprise it was when Allen Mueller, Aaron’s son, just showed up at 144 East Chestnut Street last week. He wanted to surprise his dad by just showing up without anyone knowing ahead of time. Allen got the first surprise when two pretty black teenagers answered the doorbell. The twins knew immediately, and Careen said, “You must be Allen, right? You are the spitting image of your father.”
When I pulled in the driveway, the three of them were waiting for me on the front porch. As I walked up the sidewalk, I realized it was Allen Mueller. Allen is an exact younger version of his father. He told us he wanted to surprise his dad with a visit, and that was why no one had any idea he was coming. He admitted he got the first surprise when the girls answered the doorbell.
We decided he could still surprise Aaron. We had Allen stay in the kitchen when his dad was due to arrive home. We distracted Aaron for a couple minutes while Allen waited for just the right time to come out. When Aaron brought up the toothpaste, Allen came out and said, “Ah, don’t worry about it, guys. He used to preach the same sermon to Mom and me back in New York!”
Aaron instantly got tears in his eyes, turned around, and hugged his son.
By the time you get this letter, celebrating the Fourth of July will be over—so happy Fourth of July. We’re having a few friends over.
I’ll write again soon.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
The Fourth of July celebration at 144 East Chestnut Street began at ten in the morning. When Trina invited Tilly, she said she couldn’t make it, but her plans changed, and she showed up at ten fifteen with two teenage grandsons. They brought a volleyball set, which Aaron instructed them to put up in the backyard. By twelve fifteen, everyone had arrived and sat down at two picnic tables. One was there when Trina moved in, and the other one was borrowed from a neighbor who was away for the day.
At one o’clock, there were some ominous black clouds on the horizon. It looked like a thunderstorm was headed their way.
Trina said, “Maybe we should get ready to move inside.”
“No need,” Danny said. “I’ve seen lots of Alaska weather. At most, we’ll get a sprinkling of rain—but not enough to chase us inside.”
As it turned out, he was exactly right.
Twenty minutes later, the sun sparkled like a gold coin in the sky.
For the next hour, everybody ate until they were full—and then they ate some more. At two thirty, some of the younger people started to kick the volleyball around. Ten of the picnickers took sides to play a game. The others took chairs to watch. After one game, it was obvious that some of them were more athletic than others, and the teams were rearranged to make the games fairer. With the teams more balanced, the audience started to get more involved. They started cheering for good plays or good effort.
Then it happened!
After playing volleyball for an hour, Danny collapsed. Trina and Tilly had both tried to get Danny to sit out after the first game, but he would not hear of it. Danny was always very active, and he loved showing what he could still do at his age. However, no one but his wife, Jane, knew he had had two mild heart attacks the previous year—and she wasn’t around to slow him down. When Danny leaped to hit the ball and went all the way to the ground, Trina and Tilly knew something was very wrong. Danny had pushed the envelope too far, and he had a massive heart attack.
As they were trying to revive him, Tilly said, “A man his age should not be playing volleyball, especially with these younger people.”
After the ambulance took Danny away, the picnic was over.
The death of Danny Adams took its toll on the Brown-Mueller household. Allen didn’t know what to do. He was only scheduled to be in Alaska for three more weeks. Careen and Cassidy woke up with bad dreams several times. Trina and Tilly were the least affected because of their work in the rehab and medical field, but Aaron was really affected. He was counting on Danny to ease him into the store business, but that was not going to happen now.
After the twins and Allen went to bed, Aaron said, “Thank goodness Danny and I had signed the agreement for me to buy the store.”
Trina said, “You don’t suppose he would push himself so much so that something would happen?”
“I didn’t really know him well enough to say that,” answered Aaron. “I do know he missed Jane terribly. And he did believe they would be together again in heaven. Who knows?”
Two days later, Aaron apologized to Allen because he would have to spend a lot of time at the store to bring himself up to speed on everything. He expressed the same sentiments to Trina. He had invested too much to let it slide.
Trina told him she understood.
Aaron said, “Allen, you’re leaving in a few weeks. I want you and the twins to do some traveling. I’ll pay for everything. Here’s four hundred dollars to cover whatever.”
Allen and the twins went through the brochures and picked five of them. Two of them were overnight trips.
July 10, 1952
Dear Rose,
Our Fourth of July picnic was pretty good from ten in the morning until four in the afternoon. Tilly’s grandsons brought a volleyball set and put it up in the backyard. Only problem was that one of the older adults fell to the ground and died of a massive heart attack.
Tilly and I tried everything we knew, but we could not save him. He was the man Aaron bought the antique store from. Aaron was counting on learning all about the store from him. Now he’s spent the last six days working twenty hours a day to learn all he needs to know.
Last night, I waited up and put his dinner on the table at eleven o’clock. He fell asleep in the middle of eating—while he was still at the table.
Allen and the twins are spending time on some terrific tours of Alaska. Aaron gave them money and sent them to do this because he has to spend so much time at the store. Allen leaves in another week for the second summer session at Ohio State University.
Anyway, it’s six thirty in the morning, and I have to get to work.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
After three interviews, in which the FBI questioned Aunt Maeve to determine if she knew anything about where Janet had escaped to, the FBI concluded she did not know.
By July of 1952, Janet had sort of settled into a quiet life. She and Bobby had rented a modest apartment, bought some furniture, and started spending time together. Bobby Moore quickly learned that Janet was no spendthrift with money. At the Juneau Trust Bank, she had seen a number of people come into large sums of money and end up broke a couple years later. She did not intend to let that happen to her. She kept tight control of the money and how they spent it.
Since Bobby Moore had never had much money, it didn’t bother him too much. He realized he was on a free ride and easily accepted her conditions. At least she didn’t scrimp on them. Besides, she was a great lover—and hardly ever turned him down.
In 1952, the US dollar was the strongest currency in the world. If she was careful, and they stayed in Central or South America, she would never run out of money. However, there was one more thing Janet had to plan for. What if they were somehow discovered in Jamaica? To prepare for this remote possibility, she worked out a plan B. This was one time when all her reading of mystery books about robbery and escaping came in handy.
During their first week in Jamaica, she said, “If either of us sees someone who recognizes us, we immediately tell the other one plan B. This will mean go to dock 3 at the end of the north pier. I’ve taken you there. We ask for Captain X. This is the code for ‘I want to go to Argentina secretly.’ We each give them three hundred dollars, and we’re on our way. No going back to the apartment for anything. Just get to dock 3, period. This is why we each carry three hundred dollars cash on us that we’re not to spend on anything except plan B.”
“What about the rest of our money?” asked Bobby.
“The account I set up is good for here or Argentina,” Janet said. “Do you think we’re the only crooks wanting to get away? I will always carry our papers with us. Now make love to me.”
And he did for the next three hours.
Aaron had to spend a lot more time at the store, and Trina was offered a new assignment at the hospital a week after Danny’s funeral. The new assignment involved implementing a grant that Tilly had applied for two years before Trina arrived in Alaska. The grant proposals took several years to be reviewed and awarded. Tilly must have done a good job because the grant was substantial. The US Army wanted to know more about how to handle soldiers who had been physically injured or mentally traumatized by war. This was to be for soldiers who had no family to go back to or whose families did not have the means or ability to care for them. The army was trying to find something other than just sticking the men in a veterans’ hospital just to be forgotten. Although unreasonable, the hospital was given one month to accept or lose the grant.
The first thing Trina did was seek out Tilly’s advice.
“I was informed about the grant two days ago,” Tilly said. “I told the hospital I was not coming back to work. However, I told them if you accepted the position to head the project, I would spend time assisting you.”
“But I’ve never had any experience with something like this,” Trina said.
“No one I could find really has,” answered Tilly. “I found that out when I was first doing research for the proposal. It could be a project with a real challenge, but I have no doubt you could do it. I’ll assist you, but it will be your baby. And once you accept the position, you have to carry through. No backing out. You need to know that at the start.”
The next day Trina, had many questions for Tilly. Where would they place these men? How much staff would she need? What kind of staff would she need? How long did the grant last? Would these men have contact with other hospital patients? Would they need to be watched twenty-four hours a day? Who would she answer to?
Tilly handed her a copy of the proposal and said, “Look this proposal over, and you’ll find answers to most of your questions. Please give me and the hospital an answer in a week so we’ll know if you’ll take it or not.”
July 19, 1952
Dear Rose,
I’m not sure if I made the right decision, but with Tilly’s encouragement and her offer to help when I need it, I’ve taken on a new project at the hospital. Two years before I arrived in Alaska, she applied for a grant to start a sort of mini group home for the US Army.
By the time the grant was approved, Tilly had retired. The only person the hospital felt could handle it was me. Can you imagine a young black caregiver from Georgia being in charge of an important new project?
I spent three nights going over the proposal, and I talked it over with Aaron and the twins. All three were in favor of me taking the new position. I explained that I might get called out at night or have to work on weekends, but they all agreed that it was okay.
Aaron told us he’d found an apartment to rent, but he would cancel it to be of more help. He had already changed the store hours from nine thirty to four thirty. The twins said they’d make sure the toothpaste was rolled up from the bottom and put away if Aaron stayed. They have grown attached to him. He agreed.
Aaron asked if the girls wanted to earn some extra money. He said he could use some help at the store. It will be a couple hours a day for each of them. They start next Monday after school.
I’ll write again soon.
Love from Alaska,
Trina
On a Thursday afternoon, Janet and Bobby Moore were in a taxicab on their way to an early dinner. Janet saw Bill and Millie Harris walking across the street. They wore flowery shirts and solid pants. Janet instinctively whispered, “Plan B, right now! Driver, we’ve changed our minds. Take us to the North End pier please, dock 3.”
The driver knew they were running from something, and when he dropped them off, he said, “That’s a hundred dollars please.”
Always carrying extra money, Janet gladly gave it to him. “Thank you.”
Bobby said, “Why plan B?”
“Because I saw Bill Harris and his wife.”
“Who is Bill Harris?”
“He was on the board of directors at Juneau Trust Bank. He’d know me in a heartbeat.”
“Okay, plan B,” Bobby said.
Two days later, they were sitting on a freighter in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean headed for Argentina, never to be seen north of the equator again.
Once Trina accepted the new position, her life became a beehive of activity. The first step was to gain acceptance of the grant by the hospital board of directors. This was easy since it was money coming into, and not out of, the hospital. The meeting of the board only took fifteen minutes. However, after the acceptance, Trina began to see some of the back-door politics of upper management.
One hour after the board meeting Bill Hone, a board member, stopped in her and said, “Congratulations on your new position as head of this project. The board has heard of the quality of your work, and we’re glad to have you on our team, Mrs. Brown.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hone,” Trina said. “I’m glad to be here.”
He handed her a business card and said, “I would imagine you’re going to need some construction work done on the new facility. My son has a little company that does such work. He’s going to meet you at the house the board will buy for this project. The address is written on the back of this card.”
As she took in Bill Hone’s words, thoughts ran through her mind. Is he for real? Do I object? Who really makes the decisions about this project? How much say do I really have? Understanding that she was boxed in, she said, “Will do, thanks for your help.”
“No problem,” added Bill Hone. “I’m glad to help. I was in the army from 1940 until the end of World War II. So I have a particular interest in this project. See you again soon.”
“Tilly, how do I handle this?” asked Trina. “I drove past the house that Bill Hone said we’re supposed to use. It’s a wreck! There is no way I would choose it for this project. What happens if I say no?”
Trina understood what Bill Hone wanted. She checked and found that Bill only sold the house to his son after he learned of the grant approval. In her mind, it was a clear conflict of interest. In addition, it went against everything she’d lived her life by. What would Grandmother Jackson do? What would she think if I went along with Bill Hone? Would this be a slippery slope leading to more things I don’t believe are right?
She stopped at Tilly’s house to discuss her concerns.
Tilly listened to Trina for twenty straight minutes and said, “Trina, I can’t tell you … no, let me reword that … I won’t tell you how to handle this situation. In the position you’ve accepted, you must decide how to handle this. And be assured others are bound to come up at times. I don’t know Bill Hone well enough to suggest how he’d react to a refusal. He might do the right thing and back off. Maybe not, I just don’t know. He may be angered enough to cause you difficulties. He’s pretty powerful on the board of directors. I will back you in whatever you decide to do.”
That night, after the twins were off to bed, she said, “Aaron, can I talk with you for a while?”
“Sure, let’s sit in the kitchen,” replied Aaron.
In the kitchen, Trina told him about the board meeting, the discussion with Bill Hone, her talk with Tilly, and her thoughts about Grandma Jackson. “What should I do? What would you do?”
“Unlike Tilly, I won’t hesitate to tell you. Over the past several months, I’ve learned what kind of person you are. You have to say no to this house purchase. If you don’t, you’ll be forever beholden to him.” Then Aaron suggested what she should do. It was a radical move, but he felt it would solve the problem.
The following day, Trina called Bill Hone and set up an appointment at four o’clock to go over some items regarding the project.
When he walked in at exactly four o’clock, Trina said, “Mr. Hone, please take a seat.” She walked over and closed the door to her office. “I’ve decided not to buy the house on Brison Street. It is too much of a wreck, and it would cost too much to bring it up to building code standards for this project.”
Bill Hone’s face started to turn red. “Mrs. Brown, apparently you didn’t get my message. It was not a suggestion. It’s the way it’s going to be.”
“No, I’m in charge of this project—and I won’t be dictated to about how to run it.” Trina sat down at her desk, showing no emotion.
He shouted, “Do you realize how miserable I can make things for you if you don’t go along with my guidance?”
“By guidance, do you mean the way you will tell me to do things? Things that benefit you or your family financially?”
“Yes, but that’s none of your business. Work with me—or I will bury you and your career at this hospital.”
The surprised look on Bill Hone’s face was worth seeing as Tilly opened the door to the next office and walked in with Tony Fortunato. Tony was the top reporter at the Juneau Daily Times. He had been listening to their entire conversation. The Daily Times was the largest newspaper in Alaska.
Tony Fortunato looked at Bill and said, “After the notes I took of your meeting with Mrs. Brown for the past thirty minutes, the only way I won’t do a front-page article about your remarks is if you resign from the board of directors of this hospital immediately.”
Totally embarrassed at being caught, Bill Hone walked out. “It will be on the president’s desk in the morning.”
“I’ll check with him tomorrow,” Tilly said.
After Bill Hone left, Trina and Tilly gave Tony Fortunato an exclusive interview so he could do a story about the grant and the hospital.
When Tilly asked Trina where she got the idea of calling Tony, Trina admitted that it was actually Aaron’s idea. He suggested she call Tony Fortunato in the morning and offer him an exclusive interview about the grant if he would come and help stop some corruption.
July 25, 1952
Dear Rose,
Two days ago, I passed my first test as director of this grant project. One of the members of the board of directors tried to bully me. He tried to order me to buy a house owned by his family for our project.
If I had gone along, I probably would have been beholden to him for a long time.
As it turned out, thanks to a suggestion by Aaron, we invited a reporter who works for our newspaper to come help stop some corruption. He came, took notes, and forced the man to resign.
I found a house for our project, and it won’t take a lot to bring it up to the building code. I also posted flyers up at two hospitals to find staff. I’ve had some good interviews. And I think I’ve found the eight people I need to cover for seven days every week.
As a side note, one man who came in for an interview asked to see the head of the project. When I said, “You’re looking at her,” he said, “Where? I don’t see her.” I said, “It’s me. Trina Brown. I’m the head of this project.”
Well Rose, you should have seen his mouth drop open. He said, “A black lady? I don’t think I could answer to a black lady.”
I said, “That’s good because your resume isn’t good enough to be hired here, sir.” At least he called me lady. His resume was actually quite good, but I’m not hiring someone who talks to me that way. It wasn’t that good.
I know you will not be surprised that Tilly has been an unbelievable help.
I will say there are a lot of challenges to this new position. I’m not complaining, but it’s a lot of work.
Oh well, I’ll write again soon.
Love from Alaska,
Trina