Memorial Day

By Jack Dunn

In 1862, Charles Bump Conger answers the challenge to do his patriotic duty in the Civil War and enlists in the One Hundred and Fortieth Pennsylvania Volunteers. Left at home is his young wife, Isadora, and three small children to fend for themselves. What was expected to be a few months of military service transitions into three years of conflicting views, hardship and tragedy. In the aftermath, misunderstandings result in a rift in the family structure. Forty years later these issues are confronted as a community Memorial Day celebration triggers remembrances of military service and home front hardships.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465361721

Jack Dunn

"I was born after World War II, so I was so pleased to read this book. It helped me realize what my parents, aunts, uncles, and my older brother and sister went through during World War II, the hardships they faced, and the close bonds formed during a national emergency. We could use such bonds with one another and acts of kindness today! If you want your heart to be warmed with memories, read this book." Larry Parr December Forty-Four is Jack Dunn's most recent novel.

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Copyright © 2011 by Jack Dunn.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011915990

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4653-6171-4

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4653-6170-7

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4653-6172-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

Foreword

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

FOR ALMEDA AND BRAD

FOREWORD

THE SMALL COMMUNITY of Amity is located in Southwestern Pennsylvania, approximately thirty-five miles south of Pittsburgh. In 1903, the community observed Memorial Day in a special way. A celebration was held, many details of which this writer has been unable to uncover. What has been preserved for history is the principal address that was given at the celebration by one Manaen Sharp. In this oration, there is a description of how the citizens of this community participated in the Civil War both in the military and on the home front. Several of the veterans mentioned, including this writer’s great-grandfather, served in the 140th Pennsylvania Volunteers. A complete history of that unit’s service from 1862 through 1865 exists.

The above are facts that provide a framework for this novel. It chronicles the activities of a family as they prepare for and participate in the Memorial Day event. These happenings, in turn, trigger remembrances of incidents and episodes that occurred forty years earlier. While all of the principal characters are fictional, there are passing references to real persons. The excerpts of the Manean Sharp oration are factual, except for fictional names.

CHAPTER ONE

DANNY JACKSON SAT at the kitchen table watching his grandmother roll out pie dough. He was impressed as she expertly lifted the finished product and deftly placed it in the pie plate, trimming and crimping the edges to achieve a ruffled effect.

Now here comes the good part, he thought as she made a selection from the bowl of apples. Nobody can peel apples like my grandmother. Are you gonna be able to do that one in just one long peeling, Grandma?

Well, Danny, we’ll just have to wait and see. There are only a few of these left from last year’s crop, and they’re pretty wrinkly. It’s more important that these pies taste good, though, than how the peeling goes.

Isadora Conger smiled at her grandson. He’s a good boy, she thought. I’m so glad that he takes after his grandfather and not my son-in-law.

At ten years of age, Danny was almost five feet tall—a bit taller than average. He was of slender build and held promise of being athletic. His blond hair was cut in a manner that gave the appearance of a thick bowl, rather typical for the time and locale.

Danny, would you put a couple of small wood pieces in the cookstove? It needs to be a bit warmer to bake these three pies. It’s cool in here now, but we don’t want the house heated up when it’s time to sleep.

Danny smiled fondly at his grandmother as he moved to comply. He had never heard her utter a mean word. Even at his tender age, he was perceptive enough to know that she was well liked in their little community. At times, he found it hard to think of her as being old, even though she often referred to herself that way. Her skin wasn’t wrinkly like lots of other ladies that he was pretty sure were a lot younger. Danny thought, she’s almost as pretty as Mom, and nobody is better looking than my Mom.

The boy only had a few steps to take to get wood from the box beside the large metal stove that dominated one end of the kitchen. The stove was backed against a bricked-up area that hid what had been an open fireplace used in an earlier time. At the other end of the room was a floor-to-ceiling cabinet where tableware, pots and pans, and some staples were stored. The table occupying the center of the room where Danny and his grandmother had been seated served a dual purpose for food preparation and dining.

As Danny was putting wood in the stove, footsteps could be heard on the stairway in the house’s interior and an attractive young woman entered the kitchen. She spoke, Mom, are you still at it? We’re gonna have plenty of food . . . no point in killing yourself.

Even the most casual observer would have guessed that Penny Jackson and Isadora were daughter and mother. They both shared the blue eyes and medium-brown hair that boasted reddish highlights. Even their average heights and slender builds were similar.

The older woman chuckled. I’m about finished and, anyway, I’m not quite ready for the scrap heap yet. It’s good for an old woman’s ego to have a chance to impress her grandson with her apple-peeling skills. How about the little ones, are they in bed?

They’re fine, and they’ve been asleep for quite a while. I was just puttering around up there, getting some clothes laid out for tomorrow.

Having failed at giving directions to her mother, Penny turned to her son.

Danny, it’s getting late, and I believe that you better get up to bed before long. Tomorrow is going to be a big day, and you’re not going to have a good time if you’re tired and grumpy.

I guess that you’re right about that, Mom, but I’m not so sure what for good times I’m goin’ to have tomorrow at this Memorial Day celebration. Sounds like it’s going to be a lot of old men makin’ speeches.

Penny Jackson smiled as she thought to herself, he may not be too far from the truth. But I should try to encourage him a bit.

Your cousins will be there, and there’s going to be some music and lots of good food to eat. You should have a nice time.

But, Mom, why is tomorrow’s celebration so special?

Well, you remember last year on Memorial Day when we put flowers on the graves of all the soldiers who had passed on, don’t you? Somebody decided that this year we ought to honor all the soldiers from the Civil War—both the living and those that had passed. They think that there’s going to be a big turnout, and your grandfather is hoping to see some of the fellas that he served with but hasn’t seen in a long time.

By the way, Mom, I wonder why Dad isn’t home. He left a little after midday with the other fellas, and I would of thought that they’d been back by now.

Well, they have a lot to do, Penny. They wanted to put some makeshift tables together. That’s why he took his sawhorses and some planks. And some of the grass was high, and I think they planned on doing some scything and raking. You get a bunch of men together and they’ll find things to yarn about. That takes up a lot of time.

And with a sigh, Isadora added, That’s as close as he’s got to the church in a long time, so I’m not going to complain.

The reference to Danny’s grandfather was to her husband, Charles, known to everyone else in the community as Bump. Now in his seventh decade, the origin of this unusual nickname had long since been forgotten.

Danny Jackson turned to his grandmother. Grandma, did Granddad fight in a lot of battles? Was he a hero?

He never talked a lot about it, Danny. About all he said was that he did his duty.

Well, I guess that you were awful proud when he went off to fight.

She smiled at her grandson but made no reply. She recalled the day more than forty years earlier that he had told her that he was enlisting. She remembered that she had experienced a lot of emotions that day including confusion, anger, fear, worry, and sorrow. No, she thought, pride was not one of them.

*     *     *

Enlist! Volunteer! Join the army! Get killed! Charles Conger, have you taken leave of your senses? How can you even think about going off on this frolic for Lord knows how long and leaving me here with nothin’ to take care of these three youngsters? You can’t be serious about this. Don’t you care nothing about your family?

Now, Dorie, don’t get all worked up about nothing. In the first place, this isn’t going to be a long duty. They’re saying that we’ll whip the Rebs in short order and probably be home before the snow flies.

Oh, is that so? Seems to me that’s what we was hearin’ last spring a year ago when all this foolishness started. How am I going to get along here all by myself? Samuel is able to do some little chores, but the two girls are just babies and they need a lot of attention.

She paused and then continued in a sarcastic vein.

Let’s see. There’s still work in the garden. And in about a month, I’ll have to start cuttin’ corn. Be needin’ to cut a bunch of firewood for this winter. Oh, almost forgot. There’ll be butcherin’ come November. Can’t imagine what I’ll do with all my spare time.

Now, Dorie, be reasonable. It’s not going to be all that bad. Knowin’ that I’m goin’ in the military, folks will be coming around to help you. And I already asked my Uncle Philip and his friend Cletus to help you out. They’ll be here in a minute if you need help.

Good Lord, Charles. Those two old geezers. Come butcherin’ time, those two couldn’t lift a ham between them, let alone half a hog. And that Cletus, he gives me the creeps—the way he looks at every female between the age of ten and seventy like they’re naked.

She continued, Charles, you know we’ve been just barely getting by. And with you gone and not here to get a day or two’s work now and then for a little cash, how in the world am I going to get by?

Well, I’ve got some good news there, Dorie. I’ll get paid . . . fourteen dollars a month. They told me that I’d be able to send money notes back here to you. Somebody would have to take them into the bank in Washington to get the cash. But you should be in good shape. That’s a lot of money.

There was a long pause and a penetrating stare. Charles, the lack of money and the hard work are concerns that I would have to deal with, but they’re not what worries me the most.

Another pause, and then in a voice that was little more than a whisper, she spoke. Charles, it’s you that concerns me the most. I couldn’t abide losing you. This is not like you goin’ out squirrel hunting. Soldiers are getting killed on both sides. And it’s going to be tougher on you . . . you’ve got a good ten years on most of the fellas. I’m afraid that you’re going to get yourself killed.

With a sob, she turned and quickly left the kitchen and disappeared into the living room. After a few seconds, Bump followed her. She was curled up facing the back of the couch. He heard no sounds but could see the shaking of her body. He walked over to her and knelt by the side of the couch. Tentatively, he placed his hand on her shoulder and gently patted her.

Dorie, honey, don’t take on so. It’s going to be all right. I’m not going off and get killed. Life with you has been the best that I could have ever hoped for. I don’t plan on giving that up. I’ll be back, and that’s for certain.

I wish that I could be as sure of that as you seem to be. I just don’t know. I’m so afraid that I’m going to lose you.

Believe me, Dorie, I’ll be back. You can count on it.

CHAPTER TWO

THAT SOUNDS LIKE a wagon out there, thought Isadora. Probably Charles. He’s had a long day of it.

Presently, the kitchen door opened and Bump stuck his head in.

Sorry I’m so late, Dorie. I’ll be in just as soon as I unhitch the horses and see that they get some oats.

That will be fine, Charles. Oh, have you eaten? I can fix you something real quick.

I’d like that, Dorie. Be back in shortly.

Isadora busied herself at the stove and, in a few minutes, had fried a slice of ham and two eggs. She had those on a plate with some bread as Bump entered the kitchen for the second time.

Looks good, Dorie. Have to admit that I’m hungry. It’s gonna be good to sit down, rest a bit, and have some food. It’s been a long day.

Well, in between bites, maybe you could fill me in on some of the details.

Glad to. By the way, where’s Penny and the young ones?

Penny and Danny went up to bed just a few minutes ago. But she tucked the little ones in a good hour and a half ago. So we’ve got the kitchen all to ourselves.

Did you have a good turnout for the work party? Yes, we did. And I was a bit surprised by who turned out. I had it figured that it would be just us old geezers but, lo and behold, there was quite a number of young fellas. And it was not just the workin’ kind of folks. Young Dr. Loucks showed up and stayed most of the afternoon. He chuckled. Reverend French was there all day, but he’s not very spry when it comes to hard work, but I guess the thought was there.

Well, what all did you’ get done?

There was a lot of scything to be done. We’ve had a lot of rain this spring, and the grass has really sprung up. Then while some of the fellas was raking, the rest of us started working on some extra tables down by the pavilion. They’re not so fancy, but they’ll serve the purpose and won’t collapse under all the food.

Where’d you get the lumber?

"Charlie Shoup showed up with a whole wagonload of elm planks. He’s puttin’ new weather boarding on his barn, and he said we could use them. And then next week he’ll come back and take the tables apart and still use the lumber. Nothing better than elm to hold up for weather boarding. We was careful