Ashes of a Savage Time

By Marc Jordan Ben-Meir

Marc Ben-Meir is an award winning historian, author, and historical researcher. His awards include the Thomas Alva Edison Spirit of Edison Award for excellence in research and education. He was also awarded the Jefferson Davis Gold Medal for excellence in Historical Research as well as the Judah Phillip Benjamin award for his contributions to humanity by the United Daughters of the Confederacy. Ben-Meir had completed four university degrees including a Ph.D. in Psychology and an adjunct professorship. He also graduated from seminary in New York and was ordained as a rabbi. He is married to His sweetheart Tina and is the father of three sons and seven grandchildren. The Ben-Meirs live in Ft. Worth, Texas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483688695

Marc Jordan Ben-Meir

Marc Ben-Meir is an award winning historian, author, and historical researcher. His awards include the Thomas Alva Edison “Spirit of Edison” Award for excellence in research and education. He was also awarded the Jefferson Davis Gold Medal for excellence in Historical Research as well as the Judah Phillip Benjamin award for his contributions to humanity by the United Daughters of the Confederacy. Ben-Meir had completed four university degrees including a Ph.D. in Psychology and an adjunct professorship. He also graduated from seminary in New York and was ordained as a rabbi. He is married to His sweetheart Tina and is the father of three sons and seven grandchildren. The Ben-Meir’s live in Ft. Worth, Texas.

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Copyright © 2013 by Marc Jordan Ben-Meir.

ISBN:   Softcover   978-1-4836-8868-8

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Rev. date: 08/29/2013

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CONTENTS

Dedication

Forward

Coming Of Age

The Sons And The Fathers

Sol Falco

Jonathan

Simon

Jonathan

Sol Falco

Louisiana

Simon

Heddy

Tom

Manny

Sol Junior

Rafi

Aaron And Danny

Rafi

Roger

Rafi

Happy New Year

Rafi

Salvatore

Rafi

David

Sam

Jonathan

Danny And Aaron

David

Rafi And Jonathan

Anthony

Tony

Sam

Jonathan

Sam

Award Winning Sequel to the Civil War adventure novel Witness to a Savage Time

Marc Jordan Ben-Meir

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my grandparents the Fox’s and the Friedman’s as well as my parents Murray and Shirley Friedman. My past.

To Naphtali, Dr. Ron, and Jonathan Ben-Meir; my sons who carry my name into the future as well as my step-sons Chris and Dan.

Aaron and Levi Ben-Meir, Arianna Sophia Ben-Meir, Aidan Fox Ben-Meir, Ellen Marie, Katy and Mary White, my grandchildren. Go into the future without fear

And, most of all to my beloved wife Tina.

Also by Marc Ben-Meir

Concepts of Prisoner Rehabilitation; a Scholarly Research Work. Worth Press, 1984

The Sons of Joshua The Story of the Jewish Contribution to the Confederacy. 2012, Xlibris Publishing

Witness to a Savage Time. Xlibris Press 2012

With thanks to my friend

Allen Fitzwater

for naming this book.

To Beverly Margolis and Esther Sims

For their labors in

editing this book.

FORWARD

M Y WIFE SAYS that when I sit down at the computer and type it is simply my following my wandering mind. I drift off into the world I am writing about. I suppose that she is correct. Since I retired from my private psychology practice I have been in front of the television constantly. I owe her a debt of gratitude for motivating me to get up from the couch and start writing. Now as to the diet she has suggested, the jury is still out on that.

This novel is the sequel to Witness to a Savage Time and the second book in my planned civil war trilogy. Please join me on the ongoing trek with the Fridman’s, the Cohens, the Perezs, The Bermans, the Falcos as well as the Courtneys through the aftermath of the American Civil War. The characters remain pretty much the same but the themes are changing with the years. We continue to follow Manny, the lawyer and Union Army veteran, Sol Fridman, now a police captain in the city of Brooklyn, David, a physician and Confederate veteran in Dallas, Texas, Sal, who came with Sol over the seas to the new world and lost his leg at Bull Run, and Roger Courtney, a physician and a successful planter in Louisiana. We also follow the story of their wives and their contribution to family and extended families but mainly it follows the adventures of their sons in this brave new world.

COMING OF AGE

I T WAS SPRINGTIME in Brooklyn, New York; the year was1885. The spring time showers washed the muck and dirt that had formed on the sidewalks and spilled onto the road and down into the gutters. Manny rose from his easy chair clutching his right shoulder. Manny had been hit with a Mini ball in the late war. The surgeon who removed the bullet had saved Manny’s right arm had become a dear friend, Every summer Manny and his family along with his brother-in-law Sol and his family either went down to Texas or New Orleans to visit David and Roger, the two Confederate physicians they had met during the war, or they welcomed the two physicians and their families to their Brooklyn homes.

Manny walked into the kitchen and took a piece of cold chicken off of a plate in the ice box. His wife, Miriam, had placed the chicken in the ice box just after lunch. As he walked back into the living room of his brownstone he thought of his son Rafael, now 22, and in the senior year of seminary.

My son the rabbi, Manny chuckled.

Manny, an attorney, provided a very good living for his family. His two daughters were now happily married and his son, Rafi was soon to be ordained as a rabbi. Life was good.

Miriam, his wife of 25 years walked in from the laundry room. Someday someone is going to invent a machine that will boil and wash the clothes, I have no more energy. Manny looked at his wife who was still as beautiful and youthful as the day he married her. Manny sighed. Since the war he had greyed significantly and looked his 46 years.

Shoulder hurting? she asked. Yes, he answered, probably a change in the weather coming."

Miriam’s sister Heddy who lived next door walked in with her basket of laundry. She smiled and then carried a load of linens into the laundry area.

I have one load in there now that’s boiling, Miriam said.

That’s alright, I’m not in a hurry, Heddy answered. She plopped down in a vacant chair in the living room.

There’s chicken in the ice box, Manny said.

Thanks, but I am getting too fat. Heddy still maintained her youthful figure and carried no fat at all.

Sol, Heddy’s husband, and Manny’s close friend, followed several moments later. Happy Sabbath, he called while raiding the ice box.

We can always count on Sol to clean out the ice box, Miriam commented. Sol smiled at everyone while salting his chicken.

Don’t you feed that man? Manny asked. Look at him, he weighs a ton, Heddy commented.

Sol, who was solid muscle, just smiled and continued eating the chicken. He was a Brooklyn Police captain who escaped the horrors of Cossack raids in White Russia that killed his family. Now he commanded the police academy. He had personally rewritten the curriculum several times over the years insuring that patrolmen learned effective report writing as well as ethnic sensitivity and kept up with changes in the law. Over the years Sol had attended college evenings eventually graduating with a bachelor’s degree in business administration. Six years younger than his brother-in-law Manny, Sol also showed greying at the temples.

So, when do we leave for the south this summer? Manny asked. Sol answered.

Perhaps early this summer, June maybe. It becomes too hot down there later on in the summer. All in favor with Sol’s proposal say aye?

When the wives stopped laughing they were interrupted by Rafael, Manny’s son.

Please, I am praying. This is, after all, the Sabbath. He turned on his heel and started to walk back into his room.

That kid scares me, Sol said. He reminds me of the ghetto mentality back in Russia.

Manny shook his head. I know, and I don’t know where he got it from. He has been talking about moving into his seminary. There he will be surrounded by other men just like him. Heddy spoke up,

let’s go next door to our place. At least we can carry on a normal conversation there. Everyone rose at once.

Manny had found a brownstone right next door to Sol and bought the house sight unseen. He and Sol were closer than brothers-in-law and the wives were sister. Manny had been very happy with his decision.

Heddy and Miriam started to cook an after Sabbath dinner for their families. Rivka, their mother, would be joining them for dinner and the ladies chose to cook a pot roast.

Rivka had divorced her first husband after he physically abused her and her daughters. He was spending the rest of his life in prison in New York State. She later married Manny’s boss, Marc Meirson and lived happily with him until his death last year. Rivka didn’t smile much anymore since then. Occasionally Sol cracked a joke and the shadow of a smile appeared on her lips but never remained there.

Where are the boys? Miriam asked. Sol’s sons, Simon, 20 and Jonathan, 19, were out running the Brooklyn streets again.

I am very concerned, Heddy said. They come and go when they please. I just don’t want them to get into trouble, or worse. Sol just smiled. They are boys. They will get it out of their systems and settle down when they are ready. Sol,

Heddy said, they are not just boys. They are 19 and 20 years old. They don’t work. They have no work ethic. They run all night and sleep all day. You need to step in and correct it now. Sol saw that Heddy was right and he knew he had to take some kind of action and soon.

When Sol arrived in America he was a penniless Jewish immigrant from Russia. He worked his way up and blessed America every day for the blessings and bounty he had found here.

Alright, I will sit them down this evening. It is time.

Heddy sat back and relaxed. She hadn’t realized how upset she was and what the ongoing stress from her sons was doing to her. Heddy retreated to her kitchen. Miriam followed her and the two sisters started preparing the pot roast.

At seven that evening the two families and Rivka, the sisters’ mother sat down together to enjoy dinner. Sol’s sons were not home yet and Sol felt a slow burn. "Yes, I have to take them in hand.

What Sol" Heddy asked.

Nothing; I was thinking out loud.

At nine thirty Manny and Miriam returned to their own home. Sol lit his pipe and reread an article in a magazine. He was very concerned about his sons and their whereabouts.

At ten Sol got up to answer a knock on the door. When Sol opened the door and saw two patrolmen from his precinct standing outside. Sol invited them in. Captain, I am sorry to disturb you at this hour but it’s important. We have your two sons in our lock up. Heddy joined her husband and put her hand to her mouth.

What are you charging them with, he asked.

We have credible evidence showing that your two boys were running a strong arm gang. Sol looked at the two patrolmen who he knew from work.

I will get my coat, he said as he turned to open the hall closet.

I will go with you, Heddy said.

No honey, I think that it is time that I straightened them out. It won’t be nice to see. I will come home as soon as I can. Sol kissed his wife and closed the door behind him.

After reaching his office he was met by Lieutenant Ralph Willis, his longtime friend and assistant commander.

"There’re intoxicated. They were sticking up a member of the oriental triad when they were caught. The timely arrest probably saved their lives. The victim got away, ran like hell, but we caught the boys red handed. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes or their shoes right now, my friend. Do you want me to just cut them lose?

Sol thought for a minute. That was the problem. Sol was always there for them and they took advantage of him.

No, they will need to see the judge.

Sol and Ralph walked back to the jail area. Sol entered an interview room and Ralph went to the holding cell area to get Sol’s two sons. When they entered the room Ralph threw Sol a salute and left the area.

Simon went to hug his father but Sol shoved him back. Hey dad, we didn’t do anything. It was a set up. Sol looked at his son with sadness in his eyes. He turned around and walked to the chair and sat.

Sit down, he told them. Sol opened the evidence envelope and spilled its contents on to the desk. In addition to their house keys there was several hundred dollars in bills mixed in with the other contents of their pocket.

Simon spoke up. That isn’t ours. One of those cops put the money in there. He set me up.

Sol gave his son a very hard stare. I once told you that whatever happens to you in life I will expect you to tell the truth. You are a liar and worse, a thief. I’ll see if Uncle Manny can arrange your defense. We’ll let a judge decide what happens with you. I am fed up as is your mother. Sol opened the door and called the patrolman on duty. Please return them to their cell. Hold them over until Monday so they can be brought before the judge. With that Sol walked out. Sol chose to take a slow walk home before sharing the news with Heddy.

On entering the house he saw Heddy with concern on her face. Let’s sit for a moment he said. Heddy sat while Sol shared the whole story with her.

They had been married for a long time and Heddy could always read her husband’s facial expressions. She saw significant concern.

Heddy, I left them there. This time I will not bail them out. I told Ralph to bring them before the judge on Monday. It’s time that they started to grow up. Sol hung his head in despair.

It’s my fault, he said.

Is it possible that I love my sons so much that I constantly ignored the warning signals? This time they really crossed the line. Maybe this will be a good experience for them. Sol walked into the bedroom and went to bed.

On Monday morning Sol arrived early for work. The judge, an old friend, was in his chambers and Sol knocked on the door.

Sol, come in, he said. Seeing the expression on his face the judge knew something was wrong. Sol proceeded to share with the judge the problem.

I don’t want you to be soft on them. They need to learn this lesson now before they get any older. Judge Katz shook his head.

I understand and I will figure something out. I have an idea. Let me try it out on them. The two men shook hands and Sol exited the judge’s office.

The trial started at ten that morning. Sol was seated in the last row to observe the proceedings. The young men were brought before the judge in manacles and leg irons. Before he began the judge asked them if they were represented by council.

I’m sure my dad took care of that. You know him, Captain Fridman? Simon added. Sol sat in the back of the court room so his sons would not see him.

I know Captain Fridman, the judge said. He is not the one on trial today, you are. Are you represented by council?

Simon looked at Jonathan and shrugged. "I guess not.

I am usually referred to as ‘your honor.’ Didn’t your father teach you any better than to just shrug your shoulders and mumble?"

Simon just looked at the judge with a vacant stare. No, your honor. We are not represented by council.

The judge looked over at the bailiff. Corporal, do these two young men have any prior arrests?

None showing, your honor, the corporal replied.

Alright boys do you plead guilty or not guilty. If you still refuse to state your plea I will assume that you choose to have your trial and the consequences will be much worse for you if found guilty.

Jonathan, finally speaking up and obviously very frightened told the judge that he was guilty. Simon elbowed him and whispered for him to shut up.

The judge, hearing this, told Simon to shut up. Now!

Mr. Fridman, do you want to make a plea? he asked?

Yeah, I’m guilty. Can I go home now?

Red faced, the judge banged his gavel. No, Mr. Fridman. You cannot go home now. But you can go to the county workhouse for the next six months. Do you think that you can handle that? the judge asked.

Yeah, no big deal, Simon responded.

The judge addressed the two young men and the audience. Simon, Jonathan, I have known your father for many years. He is one of the finest men I have ever had the pleasure to know. He is very embarrassed about this whole affair. Hear the verdict of this court. Simon, Jonathan it appears that you have no respect for any of those things we hold sacred. Your father has worked hard for many years building a career in a profession he holds dear. He has provided a loving home for you and your brother. It is time that you started to give back to the society you live in. I sentence you, Simon Fridman and you Jonathan Fridman to six-months in the county work house. I will recommend leniency as first time offenders which will allow you to work off your sentence in the outsource program where you will work outside building roads. Let this be the last time I see either of you.

The deputy took Simon and Jonathan and led them out of court. Sol hung his head and rose. He walked through the inner halls back to his office. On his way Inspector Murray called to him. Sol entered his office and was handed a glass containing brandy.

I heard, Sol’s friend said.

What have I ever done to have two sons like that? They grew up in an atmosphere that should have opened their eyes to what is right and what is wrong. Damn it, they know better. Murray laid a hand on Sol’s shoulder.

Sol, deeply depressed said Boss, I am going to go home. I need to talk to my wife about this.

Heddy met Sol at the door. Six months at the work-house but the judge let them work off their sentence on a road gang. Heddy hung her head and cried.

What did we do wrong? she asked no one in particular. We did nothing wrong other than spoil them. When they wanted a new sled we bought one. When they wanted baseball equipment we bought it. Jonathan showed significant remorse. It was Simon. He appears to be the ringleader. I just wish I knew who else was involved.

Later Sol sat down with his brother-in-law. Manny was a senior partner in a Manhattan law firm. There is not much we can do, Manny said. My advice is to leave them there. Maybe they will figure out that the world does not revolve around them.

Sol stood and started to pace the room. "I know in my heart that you are right. But those are my boys.

Good, Manny said. And maybe they will come out from this as men. Do you remember when I first met you? You had a great work ethic. You pulled yourself up from a swamp and made something of yourself by your own hand. Yes, brother, you came from nowhere and still had the inner resources to make good decisions. This is their time.

I know, I know, Sol answered. It is still hard.

Manny shook his head. Sol, we spoil our children. Good parents tend to spoil their offspring. You did everything you could. You brought them up in a house filled with love and in a wonderful neighborhood. Let them start to feel their own way. They need to figure this out for themselves.

Sol and Heddy walked home. Heddy sat down on the sofa in her living room and started to cry again. Sol, with all the people you know, can’t you get them out of this?

Sol vehemently shook his head. Heddy, they got themselves into this. Manny is right. They need to learn how to make decisions for themselves. It’s time for them to stand on their own. Anyway, their supervisor is my old friend Morty from shul. He will keep us posted on how they are doing. They need this time for them to grow.

THE SONS AND THE FATHERS

T HE TWO BOYS rode to the workhouse in the back of a Black Maria. They were chained one to the other and then to the side of the door. Jonathan hung his head and was weeping. Simon just laughed at him while also making nasty comments to the officer that rode in the back with them.

Simon, please shut up, Jonathan begged his brother.

That would be a good idea, the officer said. Your father is not here to protect you now! Simon, in his arrogance just stared the officer down.

The City of Brooklyn workhouse was built before the civil war tore the nation apart. The bricks were old and crumbling. Each of the three floors was separated into pods with twenty cells to a pod. The boys were separated and put in different cells. Most of the pods were full of Negros, Irish, Puerto Ricans and others who represented the lowest strata in society. Jonathan sat in his cell and whimpered while Simon stood by the bars screaming for something to eat. Finally a jailor walked into the pod and climbed the stairs to see what the problem was with Simon. The jailer stood six feet, four inches and had been on the job for ten years. He unlocked the cell’s door and walked in. Simon continued to pile abuse on the man who just stood and looked at him. When Simon stopped yelling for a moment the jailor balled his hand into a fist and rammed it into Simon’s face. Simon fell unconscious to the floor. The pod was now quiet. Jonathan, visibly shaken by this, sat down in the corner of his cell.

At five the next morning jailors awakened the men in the cells. Jonathan had hardly slept. Food was dished out to the inmates. It resembled porridge. They also served weak tea. Jonathan was grateful to receive the food. By himself in his 8 X 6 foot cell Jonathan ate his breakfast and cleaned up for the day. Cells were unlocked and roll call taken. Jonathan did not hear his or Simon’s name called.

A jailor confronted Jonathan and asked by he didn’t answer the roll call. Sir I didn’t hear my name called, he answered. Sergeant, this prisoner didn’t hear his name called. What is his name? The sergeant looked at his file.

His name is 85-510.

Thank you sergeant, the jailor said. He turned and looked at Jonathan Do you know your name now? he asked.

My name is Jonathan Fridman, Jonathan answered.

No, the jailor said while you work in my house you are prisoner number 85-510. Do you understand?

Jonathan just nodded. Yes sir.

The prisoners were walked outside to awaiting wagons and Black Marias. Jonathan and Simon were separated and directed to ride in separate wagons. Jonathan, still in shock from all that happened to him maintained his silence. His brother, however, heard Simon berating the jailors. Do you know who my father is? He screamed. You can kiss your jobs good bye when he hears about this. Remember that. Finally hearing enough of his rant, Simon was bound and gagged. It was finally quiet. The men were assigned to a work gang. Jonathan inherited his father’s size and muscular build. He stood just taller than six feet; just like Sol. Jonathan received a pick axe and shown how to use it. Jonathan went to work.

Simon was deemed to unruly to be trusted with a pick axe. He was returned to the work house and put into a cell in the basement of the building. Fifteen days in solitary for you, the jail sergeant said. Maybe now you will shut up. You will receive food three times a day otherwise this is your new home. No windows and a closed door with a small opening for food. Enjoy your stay with us. The jailor slammed the door shut and walked away.

Beside himself, Simon screamed that he was going to kick the jailor’s butt when he got out. Finally when he realized that no one heard him and worse, no one cared, he finally shut up and sat down. There was no chair. All that Simon saw was a concrete pedestal and a cushion. Simon sat down and waited.

At the end of the workday Jonathan and his fellow laborers returned to the jail. Jonathan was bent and in severe pain from laboring with the pick axe all day. His food, the same as breakfast, was delivered to his cell by the jailor. It remained on the floor.

SOL FALCO

1 9 YEAR OLD Sol Falco, the son of Sol’s friend Salvatore, who sailed to America with him, called on Sol on Saturday. On opening the door Sol smiled when he saw his godson. Come in, come in. How are you and your parents? Sol asked.

Sol had accepted the honor of being the young Falco’s god-father at the local Catholic Church. Sol had been concerned about going into a Catholic Church but soon overcame his shyness. Sol and Falco’s father remained close friends ever since.

So what can I do for my godson today Sol asked.

Young Sol hesitated for a moment and then spoke. My father said that I should come to you, Uncle Sol. I graduated high school a few weeks ago and I want to be a police officer.

The elder Sol smiled. "What does your father have to say about this?

He told me to see you.

The two men sat and discussed the future; more specifically young Sol’s future.

Convinced that young Sol had thought this through Sol rose and put his arms on young Sol’s shoulders. Come see me at the station Monday morning. I will help you start the paper work.

The young man became very excited and gave Sol a hug. Thank you Uncle Sol. I will see you Monday.

Sol had met Salvatore Falco on board the ship which carried them across the Atlantic in1858 from Hamburg, Germany to the United States. Sol had run from his native village in White Russia after a Cossack raid claimed the lives of his parents and sisters. After burying them in the frozen ground, Sol carried whatever he could find in the house of any value to a local pawnbroker for which he obtained enough money to purchase a berth on a ship leaving for America. Salvatore was the first non-Jew who Sol had ever met and they became friends instantly. During this voyage Sol had changed his name from Shlomo to Solomon, Sol for short. He had borrowed a straight razor from Sal and shaved off his side locks and the beard from his face. The two men and their families had gone through many events together including Sal losing his leg at Bull Run. Sol became Young Sol’s godfather as did Sal to Sol’s younger son, Jonathan. The families grew together while realizing the American dream.

On Monday Sol arrived at his station house at his usual 8:00 a.m. Lieutenant Ralph Willis, Sol’s deputy academy director and friend, had a fresh pot of coffee on the stove having taken this role from Sol years ago. Sol sat in his office to read the instructor’s comments about the cadets in the academy. Sol had taken a personal interest in the welfare of all of his cadets; like a second father. This was one of the ways Sol had become successful. He took a personal interest in the academy as well as all who worked there.

At 9:00 young Sol Falco arrived. Sol shook hands with his godson and set him up in an office to fill out his application. Once completed Sol handed him the entrance examination and spare foolscap in order to work out the math questions.

A few moments later Ralph knocked on Sol’s door. Come in. And how is every little thing this morning? Sol asked.

Great. My wife wants to go to Ireland on a vacation. I told her that she should have a good time. I’m not cheap, just poor. Both men enjoyed a good laugh.

Is that your godson in the other office, Ralph asked?

"Yes, taking the entrance exam? If he does well, which I expect him to, I will waive the background investigation since I’ve known him his whole life.

How about your boys, Ralph asked. Ralph and Sol knew each other for 20 years and were also close friends.

They are at the workhouse. Jonathan is trying but he is rail thin and the work is quite hard on him. Simon is in solitary. It hurts that they grew up this way but I think that right now the work house is the only way to get their attention. How is Heddy dealing with it? Ralph asked.

Not very well! She still cries when she thinks I don’t see her. When I come home from work her eyes are red and swollen. I could easily get the boys out of there but they will have learned nothing."

Ralph rose and shook his head. "I have known those boys since they were born. I am as surprised as anyone. Let’s hope that we can salvage at least one of them.

Or both, Sol added.

About forty-five minutes later Young Sol knocked on the door. He was waived in by his godfather who took the test paper from him for review. As Sol reviewed the answers his smile started to spread across his face. One wrong, he said. Excellent. The next class is two weeks from today. Get plenty of rest and exercise every day. Run a mile or two first things in the morning. I will see you in two weeks on Monday at nine sharp. Sol hugged his godson and told him that he was proud of him.

Sol finished reviewing the cadet files, made notation and suggestions where needed, and returned the file folders to the responsible instructor’s cubby hole. At 10:30 the weekly report meeting was scheduled with the station commander, Inspector Buck Murray. Sol had to hurry to make the meeting on time. Captain Fin Baker oversaw the meeting as the inspector was home ill. Sol reported on the status of the academy and the last minute addition of his godson to the class.

Is that why you have that smile on your face, Fin asked.

Not much to smile at, Sol said. All of the men shook their heads. The office was staffed by senior command personnel and everyone knew what had transpired with Sol’s sons. The telegrapher knocked on the door.

I’m sorry to interrupt the meeting, captain but we just received a flash message. President Grant passed away this morning.

The meeting broke up. Everyone knew that while Grant was not a popular president, he would be coming to New York for burial which meant security needs took precedence.

Fin walked into his office and signaled to Sol to join him. A new telephone machine had been installed in the station house and Fin started the procedure to contact Inspector Murray. The inspector answered after a few rings. "Inspector, it’s ‘Fin’. Grant died this morning. How do you want to handle security?

The inspector arrived a half-hour after the call. Command level personnel were given tasks in the event the Brooklyn Police Department was needed for security. His well-trained subordinates picked up the slack just as they had been trained. As lunch time approached he shrugged his shoulders as nothing was left to be done and he returned home to his bed.

The academy was now twelve weeks long. Sol was set to graduate at the top of his class. When the day arrived the families of the graduates took their seats in the newly electrified auditorium. Electric lights turned the darkness into light. People still went ooh and ahh when the lights were turned on.

Sol welcomed the guests with the story of his walking across the stage 20 years previously, and how the fortunes of a new immigrant changed when he became one of Brooklyn’s finest. It is now time for our new officers to receive their certificates and badges, he said., "Ladies and gentlemen, the names will be read in alphabetical order by Lieutenant Ralph Willis.

Sol stepped to the rear while Ralph read the names. Each cadet, now an officer, walked across the stage, saluted Sol, the academy director, and received a rolled paper representing their certificates of graduation. The actual certificates were given to the graduates backstage.

Solomon Falco’s name was called. Sol walked across the stage and saluted his godfather. Officer Falco is also our honor graduate. Ralph added. The cheers for Sol came mainly from the rear of the hall. It brought Sol to mind of when he was a new immigrant to America and Sol’s father, Sal Falco, brought his family to applaud for Sol so he would not feel alone. The two men were lifelong friends.

Sol called for one more