Rung to Success

By George R. Lipponer

George Lipponer was born in Patchogue NY and graduated from
Bellport High School in 1949. He enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1950
and participated in the landing at Inchon Korea and through the winter
campaign at the Chosin Reservoir from September 1950 until January
1951. Later he served as a Marine Corps recruiter in Baltimore Maryland
until 1954. He is a life member of the Disabled American Veterans, The
1st Marine Division Association and the Chosin Few.
The author later attended Suffolk Community College and the NY Institute
of Technology where he pursued Journalism.
He has traveled to Asia, the South Pacific and extensively to the
European Continent.
Mr. Lipponers hobbies include collecting antiques, and buying, selling
and making Native American items with his wife Dove, under the Dove
Spirit Inc. label.
Like many snowbirds, he resides on Long Island NY in the summer
months and in Maitland Florida during the winter.
He has authored the following books, The End of Forever, Mending
Fences, Paul Gets a Cleaning Lady and Filial Piety

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479787968

George R. Lipponer

none

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Where the hell did you find that? screamed Henry, slamming down his glass and spilling beer onto the lace doily as Emily, annoyed, rushed over to blot the widening pool of suds on the tabletop.

Jake, the oldest sibling, was holding the document in a well-appointed living room where Jake had asked Emily to gather the clan for a conference.

Let me see that! demanded Gerry, the youngest, usually timid, taller than the others. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a three-day stubble growth in his sunken cheeks.

Rosie, a sister, held back her husband, Perry, by the arm as he rushed to read the document. Sure it’s not a fake? What’s the date on it? That’s bullshit! What the hell are we, orphans? he asked in rapid succession with rising anger.

Shush, she cautioned. It’s our argument, not yours. Rosie and her three brothers were together for the first time since Christmas, gathered together to see and read their parent’s last will that Jake found in an upstairs dresser in the farm home.

CHAPTER 1

It all started for Dan when he sat on his back step one day and noticed the directional arrow on the Ehrlichs’ weather vane was missing. He always wanted to visit the farm, but his mother, because of her husband’s missing status, was overly protective of whatever he did, wherever he went. When he turned a year older and with his mother at an afternoon tea, he sauntered over to the farm and its barn for a closer view.

He was all boy, hands in pockets, loosely curled brown hair, and captivated by farming ever since he first saw Mr. Ehrlich holding the reins behind a horse plowing fields. He could hear the rooster’s crow from his bedroom, hear the cows coming in from pasture, and took in the farm’s aroma when the wind blew his way. But Mr. Ehrlich, who seemed to work alone, interested him the most. He was a gangly man who smoked a pipe. Never ever did he see him without a lit pipe in his mouth or banging it clean of ashes on the huge knuckles of his hands.

Your weather vane is broken, mister.

Mr. Ehrlich looked up to the roof. Damn if it isn’t. I’ll have to get up there when my leg is better. Mr. Ehrlich looked over the lad with Max, a shepherd dog, at his side. Ever think of being a farmer? Mr. Ehrlich asked while Max came closer to check out Dan, sniffing at his trouser legs.

What do you have to do?

There’s lots of things. I work from dawn to sunset.

Dan, sports minded more than an academician, was growing up without a father. He had been reported missing in the Japanese onslaught in the Philippines, being taken prisoner while serving with the U.S. Marine Corps early in 1942. A male role model was sorely missed by Dan.

His Dad, also called Dan, before he was deployed to the Far East, used to take him to farms to visit the animals, get him a ride on a horse. But with his father gone, his mother frowned on his visits to the Ehrlich farm and the incessant odor of manure on his clothes and shoes.

*     *     *

Danny! Must you come in with those smelly shoes again? Gee!

But, Mom, I’m helping Mr. Ehrlich, he said with his mother’s eyes down to his feet. His love of the farm environment was evident.

Never mind! Look at this linoleum. It’s worn through from all the scrubbing I do! There’s hardly a pattern left to it. Can’t you watch where you walk over there?

Mom, there’s animals, horses, cows, and chickens all over. Come and see for yourself.

I’ll put that on top of my list of things to do.

That’s where milk and eggs come from, he defended quickly.

I know where they come from. Myra was upset.

In school, he was popular from his excellence in football and baseball, but his grades were mostly Bs. Girls, he hardly noticed until he entered his junior year. But his lean sports-weaned frame and good looks weren’t going unnoticed. Competing with both sports and girls was his interest in farming. One day as dusk fell across the western reaches of the farm, Dan, after tossing hay up into the loft, took a seat at Jacob’s urging and watched him light an old briar pipe, let a plume of smoke go from the gap in his front teeth before sitting himself. A sweaty Dan, rapt with attention, was ready for words of wisdom.

*     *     *

Dan was already gone when his mother and Paula left for Sunday church services.

Probably at the farm again, want me to call him? Paula asked.

No, but I wish you’d stop being picky with him. Lately he’s sensitive.

How’s that?

Well, last night you reminded him again to put the cap on the toothpaste and that he left hair in the sink.

Paula didn’t answer as they walked on.

*     *     *

I finished collecting the eggs, Mr. Ehrlich. What’s next? Dan asked as Mr. Ehrlich took hold of a stick, tossing it to Max who gathered it up and brought it back to Dan this time. A friendship was born.

Let’s sit down a minute. My legs are tired.

Dan leaned against a fence rail and asked. How do you plan your day, Mr. Ehrlich? You have so much to do.

I like to consult with three parts of me. First, there’s my executive side. I decide what task I have to do. Then I run it past my legislature side for approval, and from there, I take it up with my judicial section for fairness, and if all goes well, I do it.

Dan was amazed with the process. And that’s how you work?

Yup. I learned about those three things when I went for my citizenship papers years ago. Think about it. You probably do things that way too.

I guess so.

Oh, Dan, before you go, can you put six bales of hay on the wagon? Mr. Conklin’s fields burned last year, and I’ve been helping him out.

Sure. Dan put his muscles to work under the admiring gaze of Mr. Ehrlich.

When Dan arrived home, Myra paid scant attention as Paula looked up from her homework, an extra credit project, but quickly burrowed back into her books.

CHAPTER 2

The war was coming closer to home for most families. Rationing was under way and draft calls were issued. Soon Henry’s two boys received their notices to report. That news was upsetting to Jacob since the war with Germany was escalating in Europe, and he hoped his grandsons, Jack and Paul, would be sent to the Pacific theatre to serve.

*     *     *

I am overwhelmed when I see a seed break the soil and continue its upward journey. It is a slow process and takes patience. There is an order in the universe that is clear to me. Jacob looked skyward and drew deeply on the pipe. I give a gentle prodding from my heart, but the divine unfolding of nature overshadows all else.

Dan shifted position on the log, straightening a leg and taking a sheave of wheat in his mouth.

Take corn. First a kernel, then a delicate blade, and the ear. Each step leads to another. Rainfall and sunlight do the rest. Food for us, fodder for the cattle, and the cycle is complete to be repeated over and over again.

Rubbing Max’s head, all Dan could say was, I never saw farming that way.

Neither spoke until Jacob asked. I can use your help cutting the last field of hay? My shoulder and my leg aren’t what they used to be. In fact, the older I get, the better I was. Jacob laughed at the comparison, rubbing the shoulder. I can use your help putting up storm windows next month.

Just then a Tom Turkey turned the corner and gobbled, pecked in the dirt and looked long at Jacob. Yeah, enjoy yourself now because next month, you’ll be the center of attraction on my dining room table. Looking at Dan, he asked, Care to help me butcher him?

I can help with that. I mean with the storm windows, Dan assured, avoiding the turkey issue.

Jacob enjoyed a chuckle and understood, for he could never enlist any help in killing any of his fowl from his sons or grandsons either. Remember, I don’t want any work here to interfere with your schooling. Your schoolwork is important.

Oh, it won’t, Mr. Ehrlich. I want to quit my other job at the bowling alley anyway. I’ve been setting up pins on Tuesday and Thursday nights. The men bowl until midnight, but the tips are good. My mother thinks it’s too late on school days.

Maybe she’s right, Jacob agreed as Max came rushing in from the fields, rushing straight for Dan with a wagging tail. Looks like he’s found a new friend.

*     *     *

I know. I know. I’m taking them off. Dan heard the usual and complied as he kicked off his shoes and nudged them out the door. He heard a sigh of relief from his mother, and Paula looked quickly back to her homework.

Myra had a lot on her mind and it showed. Children, I have a chance to get a job. It might mean I’ll be away during school hours and maybe more.

Paula bit into the pencil eraser. Dan looked at his sister, and both turned to face their mother.

It’ll get us extra money to help with the bills.

Dan looked at Paula who said, I’ll help with the cooking.

Ugh, she can’t cook. I’d rather starve.

Paula glared at him. Why not? I might be a housewife someday. I need practice and want to try.

Practice some place else.

Oh, stop now! Times are changing. There’s a war on. Everybody can help. You help Mr. Ehrlich, don’t you?

"That’s different.

So where’s it at, Mom? Dan, calmer now asked, winking at Paula.

At Mollie’s Coffee Shop and I can walk there. The factory workers from the lace mill come there, and a lot of teachers come on Saturday.

I love her doughnuts, especially the sugared ones, Dan said, licking his lips.

Well, I’d like to try making them, and you can help me, Dan, Paula said hopefully.

We’ll see. First, I have to try and get cooking oil, Myra cautioned.

Dan considered Paula’s offer but remained silent.

CHAPTER 3

It was Saturday and right after football practice. Dan rushed to the barn.

Were you always a farmer, Mr. Ehrlich?

Jacob nodded, banged the bowl of the pipe on the sole of his scuffed boot before scraping the bowl clean with a pen knife. No, my father was a nail maker on the other side. He made nails from this size to this, he emphasized with a show of his huge hands. Now, my mother was a gardener and helped out at her church. So I suppose I got my ‘green thumb’ from her. I was always drawn to the soil and liked seeing things grow. My thoughts were like seeds in the rich loam of my mind. Whenever I had seeds to plant, I felt abundance which brought me prosperity. I got sidetracked one time and forgot my true calling. My farm suffered. I thought I could achieve more without my seeds. I thought greed, and how wrong I was. That was one time I wasn’t in control of my destiny.

Dan looked confused and fidgeted with piece of wilted straw. You wanted me to clean the stable area?

Jacob hesitated. No, wait. Let me tell you more.

When you were this high—Jacob demonstrated with his hand—the country was in dire ways. People were killing themselves, lost their homes, their businesses. Why Mr. Klein, a friend of mine, lost his butcher business, his store, his wife and family. Others were killing themselves with homemade booze.

Things were that bad?

I was talked into investing money in stocks. I was told I’d make more money and could hang up my overalls, sell my animals, and live a fancy lifestyle. The guy who told me this is now the president of the National Bank. Riches beyond my wildest dreams, he promised.

Dan reached for the pitchfork and headed to the stable.

That can wait. Sit. Jacob adjusted a suspender, filled his pipe as Dan sat down to hear more. I’m sure they don’t teach this in school, but I worked hard for my money. So be careful of bankers wearing double-breasted vested suits. He said he grew up on a farm and loved farming. But could he ever sling manure. If bullshit were music, he’d be an orchestra.

Dan laughed at the comparison.

So now I have my own banking system and make good use of my tobacco cans. Jacob stood and kicked an empty tobacco can across the barn floor. It was times like that made your Dad stay in the service. He told me as much. Jacob paused. Most people had no jobs. My own sons, figuring I couldn’t pay them, went their separate ways. Henry became a mailman, Gerry went to the highway department, and Jake became a fireman. My Rosie, she was always secure being a nurse. I suppose that’s why I appreciate your interest in farming. I don’t mean suppose. I can see as much.

Dan felt moved hearing his words of wisdom. He felt goose pimples, felt he had a father figure after all. If you need help fixing the weather vane, let me help.

Daaaannnnny! He could hear his mother calling and got to his feet. I had better get going. I can be here tomorrow after football practice.

CHAPTER 4

With practice over, Dan dropped his books, grabbed a sandwich and headed straight for the barn where he found Jacob holding the long bent handle of a scythe, its blade sending off a shower of sparks from the hand-powered grindstone.

Max was by his side in an instant to finish the sandwich. Not wanting to interrupt Jacob, Dan stood back, breathed deeply to capture all the barn had to offer, the aroma of hay and manure, the wide-open barn doors, sunlight drifting in from splintered batten boards, the huge grinding wheel, wrenches, axes and mauls, pitchforks, shovels, and hay rakes. The anvil and vises, milk pails and buckets, burlap bags and grain sacks, rolls of wire, fence posts cut from locust trees with hardly any organized order but each with a purpose, some with cobwebs, some with a filmy coat of dust while other tools, used more frequently, had shiny handles. A single sagging wire, strung overhead from their home across hand-hewn timbers, ran to the bare lightbulb, which dangled overhead. The work bench was cluttered with nails, bolts, and fasteners of every type and size.

Dan didn’t miss a thing and he was at home there as much as in his small dormered second-floor bedroom.

That’ll do it, Jacob said as the wheel slowed to a halt. He held up the blade for inspection, and satisfied, set it aside. I’ll show you how to work it some time.

*     *     *

Grandpa, Grandpa! We got our draft notices. Jack and Paul came rushing into the barn. Henry and Emily’s sons, both over six feet tall, hale and hearty, were excited, bubbling over. The threats of going off to war hardly showed in their exuberance to serve in wartime.

Dan stood aside with Max at his side as Jacob looked over the notices. Where you going?

We both want the Air Corps and will ask for flight school, Jack explained.

Yeah, agreed Paul, younger by a year to Jack, as he gestured flying with swooping hands over and around Jacob who wasn’t amused. Yeah, Grandpa, I want to escape the shackles of being earthbound and dance on the silvery clouds with my silver bomber.

Grandpa looked away with sadness in his heart.

You’ll have Dan to help you, Grandpa, Paul said, running a hand through Dan’s hair.

Two of you going off to war? I sure hope you aren’t sent to Europe. I still have family there. Volunteer for the Pacific and fight the Japs. We shouldn’t be fighting our own kind anyhow. Did you tell Dad yet? he asked knowingly.

No, we’re putting that off. He’s been hanging at Reidy’s Tavern right after work, and Mom is getting angrier by the day, Jack said, showing concern.

We don’t care where they’ll send us, Paul said proudly.

Dan looked on in astonishment, thinking how exciting it was going off to serve the country. He wondered if the war would last until he received a draft notice of his own.

*     *     *

How was your first day at the café? Paula asked looking up from her book when Myra, disheveled, arrived toting a bag of groceries.

After pinning up a wayward strand of hair, she regained her composure. I was on my feet all day, and these shoes are killing me. She sat and kicked them off, noticed Dan’s smelly worn sweat shirt. Dan, please take off that sweater and put it with the wash!

I just put it on this morning.

If it’s not his shoes, it’s his clothes, Myra complained.

I asked how the job was, Mom.

Myra turned after she set cans of vegetables and folded the paper bag. I hoped tips would be better. Just $1.10, but Mollie said Mondays are always slow. So I peeled potatoes, onions, carrots, washed pots and pans, and here I am.

Mr. Ehrlich gave me these eggs. Can you make egg salad?

Yes, okay. Oh, was Mr. Baumann here for rent?

No, but Mr. O’Donnell was. He said he’d stop by next week, Paula explained as she turned a page then filed at her nails.

Him again? Myra shook her head and reached for the can opener. He must think money grows on trees. I have more to think about besides life insurance. I’ve told him many times that when I have money, I’ll insure you both.

How much does it cost, Mom? Dan asked.

They have policies that cost from twenty-five cents a week to over a dollar.

That doesn’t seem like much.

Wait until you raise a family. You’ll see how far money goes.

That is, if I get married.

You’re not getting married? Paula asked, turning a page while pushing back her chair. A beauty she was with ocean-blue eyes, long brown hair, and already popular with boys.

Aren’t you the nosy one?

I’m not nosy. You’re the one that brought it up.

Dan grabbed a piece of scrap paper and balled it up.

Both of you, quiet now, Myra admonished as Dan tossed the paper wad at her. She ducked, he missed, and she stuck her tongue at him.

*     *     *

Flight school? Henry asked, being the last in the family to be informed.

Yeah, Pop. I’m going to Mississippi, and Jack is going to Andover Field.

Two pilots in the family?

When are you leaving? Then it dawned on him. Did you tell Mom?

We told her last night. You were already asleep.

Why am I always the last to know? Henry asked, reaching for a beer.

We didn’t want to worry you ahead of time. We’re leaving tomorrow morning, Jack explained as their dad drained his glass.

*     *     *

Dan rushed home right after football practice as the last of daylight disappeared over the western fields. He slipped into old clothes. Max was already waiting when he stepped out the door into a steady rain.

Where are you going now? It’s raining. Put on your galoshes! Dan didn’t hear a word and rushed through the rain with Max close by.

Mr. Ehrlich was resting on a bench with the scythe lying across his lap, rain dripping from his forehead. His pipe was unlit. He looked tired and was rubbing his shoulder. You didn’t have to come. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow too. See? The barometer is dropping.

Dan walked over and dusted off the dial to see. I figured you needed some help with your shoulder, Mr. Ehrlich. I can help when the rain lets up.

Nah, sit down a few minutes, he gestured. I’m waiting for a carpenter who is going to replace some of the rungs on the ladder.

Dan was already in awe of what he might hear. Mr. Ehrlich’s words of wisdom were catching, being etched into his mind-set. I don’t mind working in the rain.

Mr. Ehrlich filled his pipe with the last wad of another tobacco can, lit up as Dan sat down with Max, paws spread out on the hay strewn concrete, all ears too. You know, Dan, nature is our master and we are her servants. Dan leaned forward to listen intently. Can man conquer nature? Hardly. I look at my fields and see nature at its best. Sunshine and rain, plants breaking from their seeds, pushing up through their blanket of soil, the fruits of the seeds sprouting. Jacob paused, banged his pipe against a post, refilled its bowl, and lit up and exhaled. Another red can was empty. And I have seen nature at its worst. Early frosts and late frosts, too much rain and soggy fields, and droughts with dusty fields. Hail storms that knocked my crops flat as a windless ocean. All this happened and I couldn’t do a thing. See what I mean about nature?

Gee, Mr. Ehrlich, you know so much.

Yes, I can speak from successes and failures.

CHAPTER 5

ALLIED BOMBING OF RUHR INDUSTRIAL

AREAS INTENSIFIES

The headlines were bold and black. They caused concern for Emily and Henry whose drinking intensified, often becoming short tempered and argumentative so much that his foreman threatened him with dismissal if he didn’t change. Emily, a softer soul, took her concerns to church and prayed for her boys’ safe return while Henry refused to accompany her.

Jacob’s boots noisily clambered up the wooden steps. He looked tired beyond his years. Tossing his pipe into an overflowing ashtray, he grabbed the newspaper. Any mail from the boys? he asked Emma, stirring in a cast-iron kettle.

They had a letter from Jack. He’s going overseas this week. A first lieutenant now, got his wings, she said proudly, wiping her hands.

What about Paul?

No mail from him since last week. He’s already in England. Emma noticed his mood.

Why don’t you go over and ask Henry about the boys?

I might.

Jacob’s feelings ran shallow to his children. It seems like his course with them was through muddy waters most of the time. He shared some of the blame for the relationships since he was always thinking of working the farm and had very limited time with them in their formative years.

You look grumpy. Are you hungry? Did you have any wine today?

All these questions. Stop now! Yup, fix me something to eat.

All right, give me a minute. I just finished washing my cheese cloths for tomorrow.

"You know how it is this time of the year when the hay has to