Shaping Heroes

By E Dee Merriken

Nineteen-year-old Ray Matthews, an American Legion Baseball player, is full of talent—and full of himself. He’s about to be signed by the Chicago Cubs when he’s beaned by a pitch. His future hangs in the balance as he realizes that he could lose his job at Mt. Rushmore and his baseball career forever.
Set in Rapid City, South Dakota, during the construction of Mt. Rushmore, E Dee Merriken weaves a Depression-era story with characters struggling, striving, and dreaming in the shadow of the great monument. As the citizens of Rapid City shape their future leaders, the carvers on Mt. Rushmore are shaping America’s heroes. With tinges of humor and fantasy along with murder and suspense, Merriken’s coming of age novel offers readers a truly inspiring, sometimes harrowing, yet always compelling story that will stay with readers long after the cover is closed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 13, 2009
• ISBN: 9781440125126

E Dee Merriken

SHAPING HEROES is Ms. Merriken’s second novel. Her first novel DREAM SEASON, climbed to #15 on Barnes & Noble’s bestseller list during the 2004 Baseball World Series. Ms. Merriken has been a guest on more than 200 radio programs and several local television shows, including a national television appearance on “Fox & Friends Sunday.” She has also been a guest speaker for book clubs, writer’s groups, and for corporations.

Book preview

Copyright © 2009 E Dee Merriken.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

844-349-9409

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4401-2511-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4401-2512-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009923366

iUniverse rev. date: 02/13/2024

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

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Acknowledgment

To my loving husband Eric Monnen

Foreword

by William E. Haase

In 1925 two great American institutions, Mount Rushmore National Memorial and the American Legion Baseball program, were conceived in South Dakota. The significant role that each would play in the history of our country and their effects on the people of our land were unknown at the time.

Mt. Rushmore and its place in history have been chronicled gratuitously and recognition of this great American icon is instantaneous. The American Legion Baseball program also enjoys a celebrated history, a wide following, and national popularity. The underlying foundations of the American Legion Baseball program and its benefits to the youth who play the game reach immeasurably into the future. We, as a people, ultimately benefit from and share the values instilled by the program: honesty, integrity, courage, trust, a sense of fair play and a passion for the game of baseball. These shared values have shaped our culture decade after decade.

In this city on July 17, 1925, by action of the South Dakota Department of The American Legion, the nationwide organization of Legion Junior Baseball was first proposed as a program of service to the youth of America. Those words are inscribed on a marble monument in the community of Milbank, South Dakota, as a reminder of the beginning of this fine Americanism program.

American Legion Baseball became a national program by convention action in 1925 with the first national tournament being held in 1926. Sixteen states were represented in this first year of operation, and by 1929, every state entered teams into competition.

The years 1940 and 1941 marked the establishment of American Legion Baseball as an institution for American youth. It still enjoys the distinction of being the oldest and largest, nationwide, teenage baseball program in America.

During World War II, the program was restricted but continued its service to our nation’s youngsters. The post-war years saw the continued growth of the program and the nation’s realization of the importance of this kind of activity for youth of all age groups.

In 1949, the selection of an American Legion Player of the Year began through cooperative effort with Mr. Robert Quinn, Director of the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York. The sixties saw significant growth under the leadership of George W. Rulon, Program Coordinator for American Legion Baseball, who held that post from 1961 until his retirement in 1987. James R. Quinlan succeeded Mr. Rulon as Program Coordinator, continuing to uphold past traditions and continued growth of the program.

In 1982, with approval of and guidance from the National Americanism Commission, a new annual regional tournament format was adopted. Sixty-four of the best teams in the country began a national competition at select regional sites. In 1998, The American Legion established a national baseball scholarship program with scholarships being awarded annually based on leadership, character, academics, and financial need.

Currently there are over 100,000 players ages 15-19 on 5,400 teams in all 50 states and Puerto Rico. Since its inception in 1925, over 10 million players have participated in the American Legion Baseball program. Nearly 75 percent of all college players and, on average, 55 percent of Major League players have played American Legion Baseball. The program has spawned 53 Major League players and managers who have reached the pinnacle of the game by being recognized for their accomplishments with enshrinement into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.

Today the American Legion Baseball program’s purpose continues to be the same as it was in 1925: An investment in America’s Youth. The history of American Legion Baseball has proven that America’s youth receives a thorough understanding of the true value of sportsmanship, leadership, and individual character building.

One of the most important aspects of any American Legion Baseball pre-game ritual is the reciting of the Code of Sportsmanship.

AMERICAN LEGION CODE OF SPORTSMANSHIP

I Will:

Keep the rules

Keep faith with my teammates

Keep my temper

Keep myself fit

Keep a stout heart in defeat

Keep my pride under in victory

Keep a sound soul, a clean mind, and a healthy body.

It is a sacred and time-honored code that each player is bound by and promises to practice both on the field and in life.

I believe that those great American heroes who grace the face of Mount Rushmore National Memorial could easily have been the architects of this code. It is a solid foundation for building the youth of today into our heroes of the future.

14529.png

For the past seven years William E. Haase has served with the American Legion Baseball program at the national level. He is a Marine, a Vietnam Veteran and a life member of The American Legion. His years in professional baseball include 18 years as an executive with the Detroit Tigers and over eight years as an executive with the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Today he continues to enjoy his association with The American Legion, the National Baseball Hall of Fame, and the American Legion Baseball program.

We cannot do great deeds unless we are willing to do

the small things that make up the sum of greatness.

THEODORE ROOSEVELT

Image2.jpg

CHAPTER ONE

M y father Raymond Matthews was a stouthearted man who had a sense of duty to his family, community, and country. Strong communities and countries aren’t built with bricks and mortar, he once told my sister and me. They’re built with people of admirable character, stacked one generation upon another. He made it clear that we had a duty to continue the essential and raise children who would know right from wrong, would help their neighbors, and would always do the right thing even when no one was there to see it.

Like my father, I live in Rapid City, South Dakota, which is nestled on the edge of the vast rolling prairie. It’s been said that during the Depression the sounds of dynamite, jackhammers, and drills echoed from the nearby Black Hills. The products of such construction were the faces of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Theodore Roosevelt, whose granite likenesses rose hundreds of feet into the air above a thick blanket of tall pine trees, reminding visitors of the highest standards of decency and leadership. Though its condition in the late 1930s was unfinished, Mt. Rushmore attracted tourists from many parts of the country, and because the memorial was about an hour’s drive from Rapid City, most of the curious tourists would stay in our town.

Even during those lean Depression years, Rapid City was filled with shops and other businesses. Its wide, freshly swept streets and avenues optimized the seemingly endless open spaces while crisscrossing in a perfect metropolitan grid. And although it was a far cry from New York or Chicago, it offered some measure of civility to this otherwise barren land.

Adjacent to the city’s downtown district stood the massive Pennington County Courthouse and nearby modern jail. Both masonry structures, completed in the 1920s, were enhanced by a lush park-like setting which altogether covered an entire city block.

The county jail housed two separate apartments within its walls—an upstairs unit for Sheriff Andrew Baxter and his wife Elsa, and a ground floor apartment for my grandfather, the jailer, Joe Matthews.

Grandfather was a tall, strong widower, whose work ethic assured Pennington County of quality jailhouse security but his job also made it difficult for him to raise my father without the help of friends.

14529.png

One July morning in 1938, while sitting at his desk, Joe looked across the room at the clock on the wall. It was almost eight. As he finished his sausage and eggs, he wondered what the weather was like, but there was no time to step outside. He needed to collect the breakfast dishes from the prisoners down the hall, so he picked up his own and headed toward the first floor cellblock.

Hey, Joe! a prisoner yelled though the horizontal pass-through in the security wall. His droopy eyes and bulbous nose were all that Joe could see through small opening.

No familiar names here. It’s Jailer or Officer to you, Earl. I suppose the men are finished with their meals?

Yep.

One by one, Earl handed Joe Matthews the prisoners’ metal dishes through the small opening. As Joe stacked them on a hallway table, his son Ray strolled up to him wearing a baseball glove and a sassy grin.

Hi, Dad. Ray began to bounce a baseball off the wall and catch it in his glove.

Hey, slugger, where are you going today? Joe gave his son a stern look, so Ray put the ball in his pants pocket and rubbed one of many similar scuff marks on the wall.

I’m gonna help Cole—a small painting job at the hotel.

His name is Mr. Hilliard.

But he doesn’t mind me calling him Cole.

Then call him Mr. Cole.

Sure. Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is that Cole and…

Ahem, Joe interrupted.

I mean, Ray continued, Mr. and Mrs. Hilliard have invited me to dinner after work.

Joe and Ray were distracted by a pair of lips moving in the meal portal as Earl asked, Any home runs at yesterday’s practice?

Yeah, a couple, Ray answered.

Earl turned to his fellow inmates. Guys, Ray Matthews hit a couple of homers yesterday. Most of the men ignored the announcement and went back into their cells, but Earl returned to the pass-through to listen in on Ray and Joe.

Everyone in Rapid City knew about Ray Matthews, a rising American Legion Baseball star who was showered with honors wherever he went. Ray, however, rarely bestowed adulation on others. He was too focused on his game to look up, much less notice anyone else’s worth. As a consequence, few people got to know the real Ray Matthews.

Ray had it all: fielding, running, hitting. Reports from various sources praising his skills had poured into several major league clubs. No matter where this young man played, local bird dogs made it known to their respective ball clubs that he was major league material. He just needed a team to sign him. In the interim, staying in the limelight was critical for any ballplayer wishing to play at the next level of competition. But with Ray’s twentieth birthday looming, tomorrow’s Legion game would have to be his last. Boys twenty years of age and older were disqualified to play for the American Legion Post, and there were no exceptions. Yet Ray was the perfect age to move on to a semi-pro team, the best way to get spotted by one of the major league teams.

Wish I could be there to watch you play tomorrow, Earl said. What do you say, Joe? Will you let me out?

Joe walked over to the security door and opened the metal cover over a small window. I’d say that if you’d stop making a nuisance of yourself, maybe Judge Harper would have more sympathy for you.

Earl stepped up to the door and looked out between the bars on the window, his face filling the entire opening. That’s easy for you to say, Joe.

Next time you see me on the street you can call me Joe, but not here. Got that?

Yeah, yeah.

I wish you could be there too, Earl. Ray chimed in. Cole and Lydia are coming.

Joe interrupted, Son, I hope you’re not addressing the Hilliards in that manner. It’s Mr. and Mrs. Hilliard or Mister Cole and Miss Lydia. And for that matter… Joe raised one eyebrow and looked at Earl through the window. It’s Mister Earl, too. They are always your elders regardless of how long you’ve known them, and in spite of where he spends most nights.

But, Dad, I’m grown up now, and the Hilliards are like family.

That’s right, son, and I don’t ever want you to call me Joe.

Mister Earl, hmm… Earl broke in. I like how that sounds…. So tell me, Ray, is there major league interest in you like I hear?

Maybe, maybe not. That’s what Coach Tom says. He received a letter of inquiry, which isn’t exactly a contract.

Sorry, Earl, that was your last question. Joe slammed the hinged window cover closed. And that’s enough from you, Ray. I shouldn’t have to remind you, no talking to prisoners.

But I want to give Earl the details, Ray said.

You know the rules. Now, please take these dishes upstairs to Mrs. Baxter. There’s no reason why you can’t help the sheriff’s wife with clean up.

Joe continued stacking the prisoners’ dishes. It’s just as well you don’t have a contract, son.

Why? Ray asked.

Because about twenty minutes ago I got a call from the Rushmore Memorial jobsite.

Oh, yeah? Who called?

Red Anderson, the manager of the Rushmore ball club. He said they want you to see them about a job first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll take off work, and we’ll drive up together before your big game.

Thanks, Dad.

"You should thank Sheriff Baxter for giving me the time off, but it will be worth it. Working at Rushmore is a real opportunity for you—part baseball player and full-time rough carver on that great memorial. Mr. Borglum pays good wages to his ball players who can handle a jackhammer as well as a bat."

I can do that.

Good, because he won’t pay you just to play ball.

What about the major leagues? Earl asked Ray through the pass-through.

That’s enough, Earl! Ray, take these plates.

But I have to polish my baseball shoes and sharpen my cleats.

If you want to be some big time baseball hero, you have to start right here with these dishes.

Yeah? I don’t see the connection, Ray said.

Joe placed a large stack of plates in Ray’s hands. "Then maybe you’ll want to think about it while washing the dishes. You don’t need to be