Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 05 - Trouble on the Doorstep by Elaine Orr Page A
Authors: Elaine Orr
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digging of my own.
I made my way to the library. Though it’s irritating not to have Internet access at the Cozy Corner, the web wouldn’t have much of what I needed. I would have to go through microfilm of old local newspapers.
Scoobie was in his usual spot at a table near the reference section. He’s camped there for years, though now when he has a big test he goes to the college library. He acknowledged me with a preoccupied nod and went back to whatever he was writing.
The Ocean Alley Press goes back seventy-two years. The index has been computerized and it’s pretty good. First I keyed in ‘Markham,’ but there were too many options. I noted the name ‘Andrew Markham’ appeared a lot, so I tried that and the search yielded a list of fewer articles, but there were still about twenty-five.
It was generally hard to tell what the content was, since the index only had abbreviated article titles. I settled for reading mostly those that had the words ‘Markham Construction’ in the title. One of the first ones I came across was about an award from the local area agency on aging, so there was some biographical information.
Andrew Markham had inherited a business from his father. It sounded more like a home repair business than a construction company until Andrew graduated from college and joined his father. Within five years they had a number of contracts to build apartments, housing developments and the occasional school or public building.
Markham Construction donated to every charity in town, and soon there were awards for service to the community and something called ‘civic pride.’ There was a huge party when Andrew bowed out of the business and turned it over to his son Nathaniel Beaumont Markham. Thus the name Marky .
After Marky took over the tone of some articles changed. While the company still seemed to donate to a lot of local charities, there was also a fine for using sub-grade materials in one housing development, and a couple citations for workplace safety violations.
Then nothing, nothing at all, for almost a year, about five years ago. Then there was a spate of articles about Andrew Markham rejoining his son to put in a bid to construct none other than the Silver Times Senior Living complex. Judging from how a couple articles touted the older Markham’s experience and ‘strong community interests,’ my guess was that Marky was not held in the same high regard.
The ribbon-cutting ceremony for the first residences on the complex, the independent living apartments, was a big deal. Later, Andrew Markham and his wife, Louise, were the first to move into one of the duplexes. It seemed he bowed out of the business again, because as future buildings opened it was ‘Nat’ Markham who was mentioned. Looked as if he was trying to get away from the Marky moniker.
I sat back and rubbed my eyes. I always strain them when I look at microfilm for a long time. All of this seemed to add up to a big nothing. The way good old Hank Bauer talked I had expected to read about Marky, or Nat or whatever he was called, getting arrested for everything from shoplifting toys to mouthing off to the police after a drunk driving arrest. And then somehow all of it getting thrown out for some technicality like his father had a lot of money. If Andrew Markham was a better builder than his son was, that didn’t make Nat a brat. Or a killer. And why kill for a contract? There’s lots of work .
But the paper never tells the whole story. I knew George was an honest reporter, but he puts his own emphasis on every story. I’d figured that out a couple of times, when he highlighted my role in something more than warranted. Now he admits he did some of it to get my attention. High-brow journalism in action .
I stared at the computer screen for another minute, mindlessly going over an article about hurricane clean-up that came up because Markham Construction volunteered people and construction equipment, including hauling
I made my way to the library. Though it’s irritating not to have Internet access at the Cozy Corner, the web wouldn’t have much of what I needed. I would have to go through microfilm of old local newspapers.
Scoobie was in his usual spot at a table near the reference section. He’s camped there for years, though now when he has a big test he goes to the college library. He acknowledged me with a preoccupied nod and went back to whatever he was writing.
The Ocean Alley Press goes back seventy-two years. The index has been computerized and it’s pretty good. First I keyed in ‘Markham,’ but there were too many options. I noted the name ‘Andrew Markham’ appeared a lot, so I tried that and the search yielded a list of fewer articles, but there were still about twenty-five.
It was generally hard to tell what the content was, since the index only had abbreviated article titles. I settled for reading mostly those that had the words ‘Markham Construction’ in the title. One of the first ones I came across was about an award from the local area agency on aging, so there was some biographical information.
Andrew Markham had inherited a business from his father. It sounded more like a home repair business than a construction company until Andrew graduated from college and joined his father. Within five years they had a number of contracts to build apartments, housing developments and the occasional school or public building.
Markham Construction donated to every charity in town, and soon there were awards for service to the community and something called ‘civic pride.’ There was a huge party when Andrew bowed out of the business and turned it over to his son Nathaniel Beaumont Markham. Thus the name Marky .
After Marky took over the tone of some articles changed. While the company still seemed to donate to a lot of local charities, there was also a fine for using sub-grade materials in one housing development, and a couple citations for workplace safety violations.
Then nothing, nothing at all, for almost a year, about five years ago. Then there was a spate of articles about Andrew Markham rejoining his son to put in a bid to construct none other than the Silver Times Senior Living complex. Judging from how a couple articles touted the older Markham’s experience and ‘strong community interests,’ my guess was that Marky was not held in the same high regard.
The ribbon-cutting ceremony for the first residences on the complex, the independent living apartments, was a big deal. Later, Andrew Markham and his wife, Louise, were the first to move into one of the duplexes. It seemed he bowed out of the business again, because as future buildings opened it was ‘Nat’ Markham who was mentioned. Looked as if he was trying to get away from the Marky moniker.
I sat back and rubbed my eyes. I always strain them when I look at microfilm for a long time. All of this seemed to add up to a big nothing. The way good old Hank Bauer talked I had expected to read about Marky, or Nat or whatever he was called, getting arrested for everything from shoplifting toys to mouthing off to the police after a drunk driving arrest. And then somehow all of it getting thrown out for some technicality like his father had a lot of money. If Andrew Markham was a better builder than his son was, that didn’t make Nat a brat. Or a killer. And why kill for a contract? There’s lots of work .
But the paper never tells the whole story. I knew George was an honest reporter, but he puts his own emphasis on every story. I’d figured that out a couple of times, when he highlighted my role in something more than warranted. Now he admits he did some of it to get my attention. High-brow journalism in action .
I stared at the computer screen for another minute, mindlessly going over an article about hurricane clean-up that came up because Markham Construction volunteered people and construction equipment, including hauling
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