Barky Park

By Ronald Molenda

Barky Park is a story about people that come together at a dog park regularly to exercise their dogs and to socialize. Over time they become very good friends. They talk about daily life and its problems.

There is no steamy love affair or murder. There is a mystery of sorts and a cast of interesting characters. A Catholic priest that is Jewish and struggles with some issues. And a former German U-boat captain that teaches submarine warfare at the U. S. Naval Academy.

Before retirement many of these people had careers that they would like to keep private. They just want to enjoy life with no pressure or problems.
When an opportunity presents itself to help the less fortunate they get on board.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823006521

Book preview

Chapter 1

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Martin Piekarski was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and raised in a Polish neighborhood. He came from a very old-fashioned Polish Catholic upbringing, which was a little too strict. After graduating from St. John’s Elementary School, he was shipped off to Michigan to study at Orchard Lake Seminary to become a priest. From the very beginning, he often wondered why someone never asked him if this was what he wanted to do. But they never did. And it wasn’t at all what he wanted. For the first year, it was exciting and new. After that first year, he wanted out before he was locked into another year of Holy, Holy. He notified his counselor that he did not intend to stay the next semester and to call his parents to pick him up and take him home. After a couple of sessions with the school counselors, they were convinced that Martin was not a good candidate for the priesthood. At the end of the semester, Martin’s parents were notified of their son’s decision to leave Orchard Lake Seminary and return home.

The ride home was worse than Martin expected. He was sure his parents were going to yell and lay guilt on him. That didn’t happen. What they did was nothing; they did and said not a word for the first hour. Finally, they stopped at a roadside diner and had lunch. On the way home, everything was pretty much back to normal. It took an hour for them to accept his decision. They asked him what he planned to do with his life, and who he thought would pay for it. Martin was stunned. He had no answer. Because his parents never asked him straight-out questions about his life before, he told them he needed time to think about it. His father told him he had a year to think about it. At that point, his mother stepped in and told him to take his time to work his career out. Martin was relieved. He told them he would let them know as soon as he figured it out, but he advised them it would probably take some time. Martin could tell his answer did not make his father happy.

When they got home, Martin enrolled in the local public high school and was very happy to be back with his friends. The next three years were good times. He played football, basketball, and baseball. He dated a little, went to the prom, and socialized like boys do in high school. Martin’s father felt that if he had enough energy to play sports, he had enough energy to have a part-time job. As a result, Martin always felt guilty about playing sports. One of the activities he enjoyed most was working on the school newspaper. By his senior year, he was the editor.

At graduation, his parents asked him if he figured out what he was going to do with his life. Martin knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to work and make enough money to go to college. And he wanted to pay his own tuition.

Martin told his parents he was going to work in the steel mills in Gary, Indiana, and when he earned enough money, he was going to go to college. His mother looked at him with a blank stare, and his father turned and walked away muttering something. Martin knew that they both wanted him to find some job in Milwaukee, get married, and give them a bunch of grandkids. That was the furthest thing from Martin’s mind.

When Martin got to Gary, it was hot—extremely hot. He questioned his decision about working in the steel mills. After he finally settled into a room at the YMCA and worked a couple of weeks, he decided he had made the right decision. Getting used to the putrid smells of the steel mills might take a while, but the work paid good money. The good-paying jobs showed in the neighborhoods. They were well kept; businesses were flourishing, parochial schools were at capacity, and people were driving nice cars—life was good. Martin worked long, hard hours, mainly the night shift, which was his choice. At the end of two years, the good-paying job and long hours paid off. He had enough money to start college. While in Chicago, he spent a lot of time enjoying the happenings of the powerful political machine in Cook County. He also read every newspaper printed in the area.

When he enrolled at Northwestern University, he had no second thoughts; he pursued degrees in journalism and political science. He was able to work summers at the steel mills. And he started doing a little political writing for a small weekly newspaper in one of the Chicago suburbs.

Chapter 2

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Martin enjoyed college, especially the journalism courses, and his grades showed it. Political science was interesting and necessary for a career as a political journalist. Martin was a good, serious student.

After graduation from Northwestern, the Chicago Tribune contacted Martin. They had been aware of his articles, which appeared in the small weekly paper he wrote for during the summer. He was offered an entry-level position, which he eagerly accepted. He covered the daily activities at Chicago’s city hall and often went to Springfield to cover politics at the state level. He was a go-between; he sat in on debates and meetings, and then brought back information to the writers. He enjoyed being exposed to the political activities, but he wanted to write his own column.

What Martin enjoyed most was going on vacation to Washington, DC, and sitting in on the Congress and the Senate sessions. He enjoyed that as much as a good football game. While he was there one summer, he decided to visit Howard, an old colleague of his who he worked with at the Chicago Sun Times and the Chicago Tribune, at various times. Howard was now working for the Washington Post. Martin called him by chance to see if they could meet for lunch. Much to his surprise, they were able to get together. They had a wonderful time reminiscing about old times. At the end of their time together Howard, asked Martin if he thought about moving up the ladder a notch. Martin was eager to let his friend Howard know he was, indeed, eager to move up. Howard told him to stop at the Washington Post main building and ask to see a woman named Terri while he was in town. Howard told Martin that when he got back to his office, he would let Terri know to expect him in the next day or two. Martin was grateful. Bright and early the next day, Martin walked into the main building of the Washington Post and asked to see Terri. The receptionist said she was expecting him and showed him to Terri’s office. Once they got through the introductions and Martin’s work history, which she was aware of, she asked him if he would like to work for the Washington Post as a reporter. Martin’s reply was yes and no. He told her that he would like to work for the Washington Post but not as a reporter. He said he would like to have a column in the paper. Terri’s reply was, Well! Then she offered him a column on Tuesday and Thursday, while reporting on the rest of the days, plus two days off. Martin thought that was perfect. He wanted to get his foot in the door, so he accepted the job. She told him if the column worked out, and if he established a following, then the paper would consider a daily column. He wasn’t going to push for that, but he tucked it into the back of his mind. He asked her how they would know if he had a following. Terri told him if he had a following, the paper would know; he could be sure of that.

Two weeks later, Martin started his first day at the Washington Post. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. One of the seasoned reporters took him under his wing and showed him the ropes. He showed him around the building and introduced him to his coworkers. Then he took him out to the different government buildings to which he would be going. He showed him where the reporters parked, so he wouldn’t have to pay or get towed. Martin adapted like a duck to water.

Just living and working in DC got Martin’s adrenalin flowing. Every so often he would see a high-profile politician in a restaurant or on the street and look twice, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. As far as Martin was concerned, his life was on the right track. He was happy.

Chapter 3

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After just over a year on the job, Martin’s editor saw that he had a good following. A lot of positive letters were coming into the office about his column. The editor promoted Martin and gave him his own column five days a week. Martin was very happy. He called his new column The People’s Government. Things were going great in Martin’s world, until one day his boss, Jack, called him in and asked, How are things going, Martin?

Martin replied, I couldn’t be happier.

Well, I’m going to rock your boat.

I don’t like my boat being rocked.

When the newspaper has a reporter as good as you, we like to make them stretch a little, Jack said.

Martin looked puzzled and said, I don’t like stretching any more than I like having my boat being rocked.

Here’s the story, Martin. The paper has an assignment for you. Is your passport up to date?

Passport? I don’t have one. Why? he replied.

Your assignment is in Europe. We’ll expedite a passport for you. It should be here in about ten days, Jack said.

Europe? Am I being punished? Why me, boss?

Because you have young eyes and see things more clearly than some of the older reporters. What you write is fresh and interesting. Besides, you’re the only writer we have that speaks Polish fluently.

When Martin was growing up, his parents and grandparents spoke Polish in the home most of the time. It was more than a second language to him for many years.

We need a reporter there for about six to eight months.

What’s going on in Poland? Martin asked.

There are security issues on the border between Poland and Russia, and the United States is threatening to remove its missiles and troops from those borders. Poland is upset because they have answered the call when the United States has asked for troop support in many of our skirmishes worldwide. The Poles were there with troops and supplies; in fact, they still have many troops stationed in these areas. We need you to monitor what’s going on. We don’t want to get our information from Polish or Russian press releases. And we certainly don’t want to rely on information from the Pentagon. We want credible information. What do you think?

I’ll do it; I was ready to fight you on this at first but not now.

Great! What changed your mind?

If you read the history of Poland and talk to people who came here after the Second World War, the DPs (displaced persons), it’s a no-brainer. The Poles are good, hard-working people who have strong faith and strong family values and for centuries have been abused by world powers. Even in our lifetime, Poland was destroyed by the Germans and stepped on by the Communists. We don’t need the United States to pull the rug from under them. So to answer your question, I’ll go for as long as you need me, and I’ll do the best job that I can.

Martin and Jack shook hands. Jack said to him, You always do a good job, Martin; that’s why we’re sending you. As soon as we get all your paperwork in order, and you receive your passport, you’ll be set to go.

When Martin got home that evening, he called his parents and informed them that he was going to Poland on assignment. They were pleased, he thought. But it was hard to tell, and their lack of enthusiasm drove him crazy. It was obvious they still wanted him back in Milwaukee. He verified with them the hometowns of his grandparents and told his dad that if he had time, he would make a visit. His dad’s reply was, OK.