After the Flag Has Been Folded by Karen Spears Zacharias Page A
Authors: Karen Spears Zacharias
Ads: Link
it was authority figures he couldnât handle. Kinfolks hesitant to talk about Charlieâs run-in with the law are quick to note, âHe was a real renegade.â
I donât know what Grandpa Harve thought of his boys. He never said much, but I figured he didnât like their wild ways none. And even though James was Daddyâs brother and not Grandpa Harveâs son, I reckoned that if Grandpaâs dead hand had worked, he might have used it to knock the meanness outta James, after my unclerobbed that bank shortly after Daddy died. Instead, Grandpa Harve just sat in that mesh lawn chair most every day, smoking one Pall Mall after another, never saying a word.
Â
J AMES IS D ADDYâS oldest brother, the one he depended on for help. In May 1966, Daddy called James from Hawaii and asked him to promise that if anything happened to him overseas, James would take good care of Mama and us kids.
âDave called me on the telephone from Hawaii,â James said. âI believe it was after heâd already been to Vietnam. Didnât he come home again for an R&R? I believe it was while he was home for that R&R.
âDave said he was going back over there and he said, âWho knows? Maybe I wonât come back. If anything happens to me, you look after my family. Help âem any way you can.â He let me know it was a tough deal over there. That there was a good chance he might not survive. I told him Iâd do whatever I could.â
There was a long pause while James pondered Daddyâs last request again.
âI think when he called he had a premonition he wasnât coming back,â he said. âI didnât see it then because your daddy had served in Korea. He was a good soldier. He was on Heartbreak Ridge when it was shut off. Heâd managed to survive that. But he didnât make it back from Vietnam.â
At first Uncle James tried to help his brotherâs widow.
âI went to Knoxville to the airport with Shelby to get your daddyâs body,â James said. âI took her there in a 1966 Chrysler Newport. There was a soldier with your daddyâs casket. Yes, your mother did have to identify the body. I was right there with her the whole time. Even when they opened the casket. But I try not to think about all that. If I get to thinking about it, it bothers me.â
Mama hoped Uncle James would keep his word to Daddy. She trusted heâd be there to help us. He was one of the first people she called after she found out she was a widow woman. But Uncle Jamesseemed to have his hands full with all sorts of problems of his own making.
James had married a crazy woman. At least thatâs what everybody said about Aunt Bon. She was the sister of his cousin Mary Ellenâs husband, Paul. I donât think I ever heard Aunt Bonâs name mentioned without somebody tacking on the crazy label. But James insisted Bon wasnât crazy, just plumb nuts. Crazy is something youâre born with. Nuts is what happens to folks when life knocks them around a few times.
Family members continue to banter about who was more nutsâJames or Bon. At any rate, when they first married, Uncle James was a man of ideas. He owned his own TV-repair shop. By 1965, he said he had obtained the exclusive franchise rights to provide cable TV to Church Hill and Mount Carmel. More communities than towns, they neighbored the larger metropolis of Kingsport, home of Kodakâs gargantuan Eastman plant and one of the Armyâs largest munitions plants.
James went door-to-door selling cable systems for five dollars each, no installation fee. Some families paid for three connections per household. James drafted the entire cable system from scratch, and he tried to raise cash for the project. But when the power-company people got wind of it, they hiked their rates from a dollar a pole to five dollars. Eventually, Intermountain Telephone Company bought James out of the cable
I donât know what Grandpa Harve thought of his boys. He never said much, but I figured he didnât like their wild ways none. And even though James was Daddyâs brother and not Grandpa Harveâs son, I reckoned that if Grandpaâs dead hand had worked, he might have used it to knock the meanness outta James, after my unclerobbed that bank shortly after Daddy died. Instead, Grandpa Harve just sat in that mesh lawn chair most every day, smoking one Pall Mall after another, never saying a word.
Â
J AMES IS D ADDYâS oldest brother, the one he depended on for help. In May 1966, Daddy called James from Hawaii and asked him to promise that if anything happened to him overseas, James would take good care of Mama and us kids.
âDave called me on the telephone from Hawaii,â James said. âI believe it was after heâd already been to Vietnam. Didnât he come home again for an R&R? I believe it was while he was home for that R&R.
âDave said he was going back over there and he said, âWho knows? Maybe I wonât come back. If anything happens to me, you look after my family. Help âem any way you can.â He let me know it was a tough deal over there. That there was a good chance he might not survive. I told him Iâd do whatever I could.â
There was a long pause while James pondered Daddyâs last request again.
âI think when he called he had a premonition he wasnât coming back,â he said. âI didnât see it then because your daddy had served in Korea. He was a good soldier. He was on Heartbreak Ridge when it was shut off. Heâd managed to survive that. But he didnât make it back from Vietnam.â
At first Uncle James tried to help his brotherâs widow.
âI went to Knoxville to the airport with Shelby to get your daddyâs body,â James said. âI took her there in a 1966 Chrysler Newport. There was a soldier with your daddyâs casket. Yes, your mother did have to identify the body. I was right there with her the whole time. Even when they opened the casket. But I try not to think about all that. If I get to thinking about it, it bothers me.â
Mama hoped Uncle James would keep his word to Daddy. She trusted heâd be there to help us. He was one of the first people she called after she found out she was a widow woman. But Uncle Jamesseemed to have his hands full with all sorts of problems of his own making.
James had married a crazy woman. At least thatâs what everybody said about Aunt Bon. She was the sister of his cousin Mary Ellenâs husband, Paul. I donât think I ever heard Aunt Bonâs name mentioned without somebody tacking on the crazy label. But James insisted Bon wasnât crazy, just plumb nuts. Crazy is something youâre born with. Nuts is what happens to folks when life knocks them around a few times.
Family members continue to banter about who was more nutsâJames or Bon. At any rate, when they first married, Uncle James was a man of ideas. He owned his own TV-repair shop. By 1965, he said he had obtained the exclusive franchise rights to provide cable TV to Church Hill and Mount Carmel. More communities than towns, they neighbored the larger metropolis of Kingsport, home of Kodakâs gargantuan Eastman plant and one of the Armyâs largest munitions plants.
James went door-to-door selling cable systems for five dollars each, no installation fee. Some families paid for three connections per household. James drafted the entire cable system from scratch, and he tried to raise cash for the project. But when the power-company people got wind of it, they hiked their rates from a dollar a pole to five dollars. Eventually, Intermountain Telephone Company bought James out of the cable
Similar Books
