My Desperate Journey

By Alan E. Losure

The freight car doors were opened, and planks were laid that we were forced to walk up and enter the cars.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781947491519

Book preview

Prologue– Thursday,

March 17, 1868, Cincinnati, Ohio

Captain Prather pulled out his pocket watch and saw that it was nearly time to depart from the dock. Since being posted as the captain of the new steamer Magnolia, the ship had proven to be both fast and reliable, quickly becoming a favorite for the run from Cincinnati, Ohio, to Maysville, Kentucky. Built by the Mayfield & Hyde Company in Pentwater, Michigan, she was capable of hauling nearly one hundred passengers. The steamer rarely left her dock without a fully assembled group of men, women, and children on board. Her powerful boiler propelled the mighty wooden ship to near record speeds as she traveled along the mighty Ohio River to bring her cargo of goods to market.

Take her out, Mr. Drake, the captain ordered as the great vessel began to leave dock at its appointed noon-time departure. The great body of excited passengers waved and shouted last-minute goodbyes to friends and family who had assembled on the dock to wish their departing friends a safe and pleasant voyage to Maysville, Kentucky. Hints of springtime weather had cleared the river of any remaining small chunks of ice, and the muddy waters were running calm but cold. The Magnolia crew had made this journey back and forth many times, and Captain Prather knew the river like the face of his own brother, James, who was also making today’s trip. As the great steamboat steered a southeastern course down the great river, the passengers began walking about, anxious to explore the ship, with many standing along the rails and looking at the riverbanks pass by. An hour later the Magnolia had traveled approximately seven miles, and it was nearing Brent, Kentucky, when the violent explosion occurred.

On the Kentucky shoreline, two local men working to prepare a garden witnessed the explosion and at once set off in a small skiff to rescue the unfortunate people trapped on board. The stricken steamer continued moving forward for quite some distance before flames were seen bursting forth to engulf the wooden structure. As the first rescue party arrived, they were met by a most fearful sight of people being burned alive. The heat was so intense that it was impossible to approach too closely. Instead, many victims, burned by the flames or scalded by hot steam, clung to the remains of the once-mighty ship. Some acts of heroism were noted as men struggled to rescue trapped women and children in the wreckage at their own peril.

In the meantime, two other skiffs departed from the Ohio side in a desperate attempt to rescue as many as possible. The condition of the injured was almost beyond description. Some had been blown completely off the ship’s deck and onto the riverbank itself. Severe scalding, burns, broken limbs, and gruesome death were everywhere. The tug steamer Falcon and the steamship Panther rushed to the scene and transported many dying victims to the local Commercial Hospital. Due to the fact that passenger names had not been taken and kept at its departing pier, complete names of the dead and injured were not known, requiring the estimate of the final death toll to be seventy to eighty people.

Rumors of the explosion first reached Cincinnati around four hours later, and reality of this great tragedy finally began to set in. Frantic people paced about, uncertain as to their loved one’s fate. The Maysville wharf boat was besieged by friends and relatives wishing to be taken to the site of the disaster in an attempt to search the faces of the dead being collected on shore. Their presence would only complicate the rescue operations. Whatever caused the boilers of the steamship Magnolia to explode was never officially determined, and soon other steamers took her place as this terrible tragedy slowly drifted from the minds of the traveling public and into the darkened pages of history.

Chapter 1 – Introduction

Contractor Jeffery Logan sat at his downtown office desk reviewing the architectural drawings of the final rental home renovation project. It had been a very busy but rewarding eighteen months since his life had changed completely. All of the rental houses had been inspected and remodeled, while each family had been relocated during their project. The thought of owning his own contracting company one day had been more of a pipe dream to Jeff than a real possibility as he’d worked on people’s side jobs and what Lowe’s had occasionally provided in kitchen or bathroom renovations for him. All that changed the day his friend Ted Richardson became wealthy beyond his dreams overnight.

It all started with the death of Jackson Silas. He’d been a well-known hateful old grouch and local financial powerhouse known to be a multimillionaire here in Corbin, Kentucky. He’d owned fifty-three rental properties and a few downtown business buildings in the small city. Most folks said old man Silas had the very first dollar he’d ever earned, and he probably did. Known as a slum landlord, a skinflint, and a very undesirable individual, Jackson Silas had been detested by almost everyone within the community. He’d lived in one of the oldest homes in town, a grand structure built by his grandfather, Abraham Silas, as a wedding present for his new wife, Margaret, in 1870. The Silas house had then been passed down to each generation, along with the family’s accumulated wealth.

Jackson Silas had hated everyone and all things except money and power. Using private investigators, he’d obtained dirt on his enemies, such as the prior mayor and many of the city council members, who he’d felt were out to get him. This had caused mass resignations and scandals. He’d also despised women, feeling they were only after his financial resources. He’d chosen to live alone with his underpaid housekeepers and cook, whom he’d constantly referred to as, Hey you! When Silas died alone in his house on Christmas Eve, no one in the city grieved for his passing. Only his team of lawyers came to his funeral. With no living relatives known, the law firm of Linton & Linton fully expected to make a tidy sum managing his many rental properties until the state of Kentucky eventually became the final benefactor of the estate. That all changed due to the actions of a kind and caring local lawyer, Mr. Roger Willis.

He had once worked for Jackson Silas but had become disgusted with all of the dirty shenanigans Silas had pulled on honest, unsuspecting people. Willis had then been fired when he’d refused to torment the Logan family as Silas had directed. It had been Willis who had pressed Silas earlier about the possibility of a living relative, and been assured by the old man that none existed. That was when Willis hired a professional genealogist to look into Silas’s family tree, and if a relative were found, he’d present the information to the old skinflint himself. Once the completed research was finally mailed to him, though, the unemployed attorney Willis was forced to pay the fee out of his own pocket, and he simply filed away the unopened envelope. It was only after the death of Silas that he remembered the envelope and opened it to discover its amazing contents.

The trouble all started when the Logans purchased a piece of property at auction next to land owned by Silas, who later demanded they sell it to him. The young family refused, knowing they wished to build a family log home on the site. With their refusal, the war began in earnest, but the Logans held fast to their property and their belief in God. That and the help of friends saw them through the difficult days ahead.

It was Stephanie Logan, wife of Jeff, who found the unconscious and dying Jackson Silas inside his automobile along the road and rendered aid. Silas had been watching the Logan family and their friends tear down an old log cabin on their property to make way for their new home. Stephanie called 911, and together with their friend’s CPR training, saved the old man’s life. Instead of gratitude, Jackson Silas felt total contempt for the family and only increased his pressure on them to give up, vowing never to quit his pressure on the young family.

As it turned out, after Silas’s death, Jeff’s lifelong school friend, the somewhat socially awkward but fun-loving, single Ted Richardson proved to be a distant cousin to Silas. With the aid of attorney Willis and an eventual legal ruling, Ted proved to be the natural heir to the entire Silas estate. Overnight, Ted Richardson went from being an assistant parts manager at the local Ford dealership to a multimillionaire businessman and large property owner in Corbin.

Many people, including the couple’s other school friend Walter the Worm Thompson, feared that Ted might go the way that many state lottery winners do and go on a spending craze with his new money. Thankfully, that did not occur. Instead, Ted chose to hire Jeff as a full-time contracting firm to evaluate and upgrade every one of the fifty-three rental properties and bring them all up to acceptable living standards for his renters. The occupants of Silas’s slum housing units were at first skeptical, but later, they were overcome with joy as each house was renovated without the rent being increased. Clearly, Ted Richardson was no Jackson Silas, and the local community rejoiced that he was not. Mayor Clark and the city council worked hand in hand to expedite all building permits, and within a short time, the Silas slum housing was replaced by the Richardson rentals. Local city residents were very pleased with the vast improvement in their town’s appearance.

It was Ted himself who came up with the idea of moving each occupant into the Silas house as their own rental unit was being renovated. Jackson Silas had been a huge bigot who’d always referred to his renters as "those people." The idea that those people would be living in his house, eating at his table, and sleeping in his bed would have frosted the old tyrant and had him spinning in his own grave.

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Only those close to Walt used the Worm nickname for him that he’d obtained at school, as he was known by most as a bookworm. Walt was now the lending services manager at the Cumberland Valley National Bank. He was single, but occasionally dated Miss Rebecca Davis, a supervisor within the human resources department. There was a close bond between the three of these men, who, though different as night and day, had remained close friends for all these years. Each had served in the military for a hitch, but all had chosen to return to Corbin to live. Jeff Logan, upon returning to town after completing his military service, had bumped into Stephanie Walker, a girl who’d been one year behind him in high school, and they’d begun dating. The rest, as they say, is history.

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Jeff Logan, was reviewing the drawing for the final rental property project with his plumber when his cell phone rang. It was his wife, Stephanie. What sounds good for supper? she asked him. I get so tired of fixing what seems to be the same things over and over again every day.

Thinking off the top of his head, Jeff replied, We haven’t had sloppy joes for quite some time, he suggested. I should be home within the hour. Ted is coming by here to discuss our final renovation of the Silas house. Even though Ted had owned the big house for a year and a half, everyone still referred to it by that name. Want me to invite him over for supper?

Stephanie said it sounded like a fine idea, and after telling him what she had to go with the sandwiches, she let him get back to work.

Jeff went over to his stack of plans and removed the tube containing the Silas house project just as Ted came into Jeff’s office. Got any supper plans made yet? Jeff asked him. We’re having sloppy joes and Stephanie said to invite you over.

Ted smiled and said he would love to come. It’s been a few days since I got to play with little Emma Marie, and I don’t want her to forget about her Uncle Ted. Emma was the year-old child of the Logans, and the new joy of their lives.

She won’t forget about you, as sometimes I think both of you are on the same level anyway, Jeff joked. Looking down upon the drawings, he put on his contractor’s face.

Here is the plan. We can turn the old house into the eight-apartment facility that you desired. Ted had suggested this idea long ago, and once completed, he would sell it to the city for one dollar for them to use as a women’s shelter. This action would be the final effort to rid the city of the lingering stench of Jackson Silas forever.

I need you to decide on two things: What do you want to do with the old attic storage room and with Silas’s library? Jeff asked. The attic room had been discovered when the men had made their initial inspection of the house. It was a large enclosed room that contained a round wooden table and three broken-down wicker chairs. Since it took up almost half the size of the attic, a decision needed to be made to either update it structurally and add electrical service or tear it out completely. If you want it to stay, I can blow insulation under the flooring. That won’t be a problem. It might be a handy storage location for the shelter occupant’s luggage and such.

Ted agreed. "Yes, let’s keep it. I have often wondered why it was built in the first place. If someone wanted to play cards,