Thanksgiving Breakfast by John J. Fitzgerald - HTML preview

            They all sat down as Jerry gained his composure and pulled out his wallet. Taking out a twenty-dollar bill, he handed it to Johnny and said, “Let’s have some suds. Johnny, would you mind getting us some liquid A rations?” Johnny grabbed the money and went to the bar.

            “How was basic training?” Phil was first with the questions.

            “It was a hoot,” Jerry said quickly, then thought for a moment. “The idea is to bring you in, break you down. First off they shave your head, give you oversized uniforms, scream at you, belittle you, and demand you do disgusting jobs like cleaning grease pits, scraping floors on your hands and knees, and working ungodly hours on KP cleaning pots and pans. We were doing all this even before we learned to march. Then we started to train; we became a unit of men joined together for a purpose. Gradually they build you up to something better than you thought possible. We completed basic training in six weeks, and at the end we at least looked like soldiers. Then it was off to the next phase of training. For me it was advanced infantry school. That’s where you really become a fighting soldier, firing M60 machine guns, M79 grenade launchers, and 3.5 bazookas.”

            “How about jump school?” Alex asked.

            “What was it like to jump out of an airplane?” Nancy’s perky voice rang in. “Were you afraid on your first jump?”

            “I wasn’t too afraid on the first jump. We went through three weeks of training, learning how everything works. We were even dropped from a 250-foot tower. So on the first jump, I knew everything would work okay. But when you jump out and the chute opens, you look down at the ground and see the ambulances parked with the big Red Cross on them. I thought if everything worked so well, why did they need so many ambulances? Well, they need them because so many people do get hurt.

            “Ya know, I was more scared on the fifth jump than I was on the first. But I will say it was quite an experience. We have so much equipment on that you can’t walk; you have to waddle. When the C-130 is in the air and they open the doors, the wind is screaming. It is so loud you can’t hear yourself think. You stand up, the plane is pitching and swaying, the jumpmaster is yelling out commands and using hand signals. Then all of a sudden you are shuffling to the door of the aircraft. There is a tremendous, deafening sound of air turbulence, the prop blasts, and the parachute deploys. You bounce around for a few frightening seconds, then the chute opens, and you are suspended in midair. All is quiet; the only sound is the low purr of the plane going off in the distance. For a few minutes, you hang in the air; it is the most tranquil silence I have ever felt. Then you slowly, quietly fall to earth. It’s quite a rush.”

            “That sounds like a unique experience. It’s almost worth joining up for the thrill of it all,” Danny said, looking at Jerry with envy.

            “The only problem for you, Danny, is they would cut your hair, and you’d have to get up rather early each morning,” Phil said jokingly.

            Johnny returned with a tray of beers, which included a bottle of Budweiser for Nancy. “These should keep us happy for a while.” He put the tray down and handed the bottle to Nancy. “For the princess.”

            Jerry reached over, grabbed a glass, raised it, and yelled out a toast. “To the A-team. Whatever the physical distance we’re apart, may we always be close in spirit.”

            They all lifted their glasses and cheered the toast. Ida stood for the toast, searching the excited faces as they gleamed at each other. She had never witnessed such intense affection among friends. They were all young and naive, choosing different paths of life. She wondered if they would remain impervious to the changes that lay ahead.

            “Jerry, now that you are in the Army, how do you like it?” Nancy asked. “Is it what you thought it would be like?”

            The question sparked Jerry’s attention. “To tell you the truth, the training was better than I thought it would be. There are a lot of things I didn’t necessarily enjoy doing, but for the most part, it was a challenging, unique experience.” He thought for a moment as he took a sip of beer; all eyes were wide, waiting for him to continue. “The most fascinating part was the relationships I have had with the guys in my platoon. It was amazing how close we became in such a short time. There were so many people with all kinds of backgrounds and educations. Many of the guys were drafted, some even married with children. They complained but did their jobs.”

            “How did they all get along? I mean those Southern rebels and coloreds. Just because they put on a uniform, did it make that much of a difference?” Phil asked.

            “I can’t answer for the rest of the Army, but in our company there were racial problems. Our platoon sergeant was black, and so was the first sergeant. The rebs may not have liked it, but they didn’t complain,” Jerry said. 

            “Enough about my experiences, what have the rest of you been up to?” Jerry said, looking around for a response.

            “I’m the only one working. The rest are in college,” Johnny started off.

            “During our first semester in college, President Kennedy was assassinated. It’s been like hell ever since. What’s happening to this world? It’s so confusing. I don’t know if I can concentrate when I go back to school,” Phil said sadly.

            “I was in class when he was shot,” Nancy said as she put down her glass of beer. “I didn’t know anything about it. I was walking across campus to lunch when some girls came running out of the Student Union building crying. One girl dropped her books but kept running. The place was wild; people were running around saying, ‘Oh my God, oh my God.’ I finally got someone to tell me what happened. President Kennedy had been assassinated. I just stood there not knowing what to do. I felt sick to my stomach. I made it back to the dorm and called my father. He wasn’t a Kennedy man, but he was very upset. He jumped in the car and drove right down to get me.

            “It was a real shocker, like when Buddy Holly was killed almost five years ago. He was my first idol. His music was our music—‘Maybe Baby,’ ‘Peggy Sue.’ He was exciting, shy, and outgoing at the same time. I had a real crush on him,” Nancy said solemnly. “I remember my grandfather died a few weeks before Buddy’s plane crash in Iowa. I loved my grandfather very much, and I still miss him. I cried a lot when he died, but I am ashamed to say I cried a lot more for Buddy Holly, even though I never met him. As hard as Buddy’s death was to take, it was an accident. To have the president murdered is frightening. I kept thinking that if they can kill the president, none of us are safe.” Nancy sat quietly, reflecting on what she just said.

            “Of course I’m still in high school, so I shouldn’t be in a place like this at my age,” Melody said daintily, scrunching down and looking around, hoping no one noticed her. “But I remember I was in Mr. Powell’s typing class. All of a sudden, there was an announcement from the principal, Mr. Graham. His voice was very serious as he said, ‘Students and faculty, the news has just reported that President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Texas, about noontime today. Classes are canceled. The school buses are being brought in. Those who don’t ride the bus can leave when they are ready. We have set up television sets in the auditorium so those remaining can watch the coverage.’ I went to the auditorium to watch the news on TV. When I saw Walter Cronkite with tears running down his face and his voice cracking as he announced the president was dead, that’s when I started to cry. It was really something. Both students and teachers were sobbing. I never saw anything like it. As I was crying, I thought to myself, why is this hurting so much? I didn’t even like him, and my parents said they’d never vote for him.”

Johnny put his hand on Melody’s shoulder and then looked over at Alex. In a voice of compassion, which was rare for Johnny, he said, “I was in my car. I had just pulled up to the stop sign on Center Street and Winola Road. I turned on the radio, and there was a news bulletin breaking, saying President Kennedy was assassinated. I just sat there; I couldn’t move. I was numb, in shock. It was weird. There was dead silence, nothing moved, and for a few seconds it felt like the world stood still. That’s when I thought of you, Alex. I know how much your family loved Kennedy. Your dad with those bumper stickers, ‘Let’s Back Jack,’ and ‘All the way with JFK.’ I remember your house had Kennedy signs all over the front yard. I thought, it’s going to be real hard on Alex and his family.”

They were all quiet at the table, waiting for the purging to continue. Phil spoke next. “I was in my English Lit class when one of the professors came in. Without saying a word, he walked over to our professor and whispered something in his ear. Our professor looked startled, said something had come up and that he’d be right back. They both walked out the door. We thought something was wrong but didn’t have a clue what it was. After about ten minutes, our professor came back. He said President Kennedy had been shot and wounded in Dallas, Texas. Classes were canceled, and the faculty was watching the news on TV in the student center. They would let us know of the developments. We all left the classroom and went over to the student center, but the faculty guarded the doors. Only they were allowed in to watch TV. By the time I got there, it was announced he was dead. Every few minutes someone would come out and announce another detail. After a while I went back to my dorm, packed up, and drove home. It was the longest two-hour drive of my life.”

“Ida and I were in the coffee shop down in Scranton,” Danny said quietly. “We had just finished a late breakfast when a city cop came in all excited. At first I thought they were giving away free doughnuts. He was rambling on to the owner, throwing his hands in the air. I then noticed the cop had tears in his eyes. The owner of the coffee shop became all disturbed, and when he went in the back to the kitchen, I could hear his loud voice speaking to his wife. He then brought the radio out from the kitchen and plugged it in. He turned up the volume so we could all hear. We still didn’t know what was happening. That’s when we heard the president was shot, and then a few minutes later, they announced he was dead. I sat and watched the cop and the owner standing there crying. The wife came out from the back, and all three sat down at a table weeping. When we got up to leave, the owner waved us on; they didn’t even charge us for breakfast.”

Ida perked up, adding, “Danny and I sat through that ordeal with neither of us saying a word. I thought, how could anyone be so mean and vicious to kill President Kennedy? I thought of his two small children who are about the same age as my nephew and niece.”

“I was on a machine-gun firing range that morning,” Jerry said as he picked up his beer and took a long sip. “At eleven thirty we broke for chow. After we ate we had a class lecture on the bleachers. We were all sitting and waiting for the afternoon session to begin when the drill sergeant came out to address us. He stood for a moment looking up and asked, ‘Are there any Republicans in this group?’ A few guys stood up and said, ‘Yes, sergeant.’ The sergeant then said, ‘Well, you gentlemen will be happy to know the president has been shot.’ We thought it was a cruel joke. No one believed him. He then continued with his regular lecture. A little while later our company commander came out and announced training was canceled. Then we marched some eight miles back to our barracks.

“When we got back to the main base, the entire base post was standing in formation. By now the rumor had spread through the ranks that the president had been assassinated. I thought as I looked over these tens of thousands of soldiers, with millions more stationed all over the world, all sworn to protect the government, how could something like this happen?”

Jerry picked up his glass again, this time finishing the remaining beer. He then continued, “The battalion commander told us officially of the assassination. He then told us to pack up everything; we were restricted to the barracks. The entire military was on ‘red alert status’ until further notice. We went back to the barracks not knowing what to do. The coloreds really took the death of Kennedy very hard. There were a lot of tears and moaning; they seemed to love him. The rebels didn’t say much, and they didn’t shed any tears. I tried to call home, but it was impossible. Lines to the pay phones were over fifty guys deep.”

“November 22 started out as a great day; it was a warm, sunny morning. I had plans for the entire weekend,” Alex said and looked over at Nancy. “I even had a date for the big football game. It was going to be a party weekend, Lehigh versus Bucknell. About noon I was walking across campus on my way to check on some beer for the party that night. A friend came running from his dorm. Once he spotted me, he ran right over. He told me President Kennedy had been assassinated. I couldn’t believe it! I just stood there thinking, how could something like this happen? I thought of Lincoln’s assassination, but that was a hundred years ago before they had the Secret Service. I remembered reading somewhere that the president was starting to campaign for next year’s election. He was going somewhere with Mrs. Kennedy, but I forgot he went to Texas.

“I went back to my dorm, grabbed some clothes and books, and hitchhiked home. A Catholic priest gave me a ride all the way to my house. The way he carried on you’d think they had killed the Pope. My family took it very hard. When I got home, my entire family was stunned, silently watching television. I have never seen my family so upset about anything. We all were glued to our chairs for days, watching every event on TV from Dallas to the White House. I even saw Ruby shoot Oswald. My family is still sulking around the house in grief.”

“Johnny, would you get us another round of beers?” Jerry asked. His voice was lighter.

“Yeah, I’ll get them; there’s still money from the twenty you gave me earlier,” Johnny said as he made his way to the bar.

“I wonder how this is going to affect us,” Alex said as if thinking out loud. “I mean Johnson is now the president. Things probably won’t change much.”

“Things will be different. Do you think Johnson would put on his PF Flyers and run down to Birmingham, Alabama, to get Martin Luther King out of jail like Kennedy did?” Danny asked. “Kennedy was almost our generation; he was young and energetic, and the future looked bright.”

 “Before I came home on leave, an old drill sergeant told me the Army was expanding and drafting a lot of people. He said there must be some long-range plan for the buildup. Maybe it’s Germany. Remember this summer Kennedy made his speech at the Berlin Wall, proclaiming, ‘Ich bin ein Berliner’? ‘I am a Berliner’ is a direct challenge to the Soviets who just built the wall.” Jerry paused for a moment then added, “I believe Kennedy wanted to draw a line in the sand and say no more Communists taking over countries. I think the focus is on Asia, perhaps Laos; but if I were a betting man, I would put my money on a country called South Vietnam. They are fighting a Communist guerilla force called the Vietcong. There’s an ongoing, small but significant buildup of American personnel and equipment being shipped there, nearly twelve thousand advisors so far.”

“I read Dr. Tom Dooley’s book, The Night They Burned the Mountain. It was about Vietnam and the mountain people,” Nancy said.

“You mean you heard the song, ‘Hang Down Your Head, Tom Dooley’,” Phil said without anyone laughing.

“It was a very sad book about how the Communists brutalized the people,” Nancy said with added concern. “He was a navy doctor who stayed over there working with the refugees. I think he died a few years ago.”

“I read the same book, Nancy,” Jerry said, looking directly at her. “You should read his other book, Deliver Us From Evil. It’s a beautiful, moving book—again about the plight of the Vietnamese.”

“Do you really think they send regular Army troops to South Vietnam?” Phil broke in again with a serious voice, looking at Jerry for an answer.

“We need the troops here to enforce the law,” Danny said sarcastically. “Kennedy had to send troops to Alabama to force Governor Wallace to admit black students to college. We should clean our own house before we start cleaning someone else’s.”

X   X   X   X

Johnny was back with more beers. He started passing them around and, in a humorous voice, he said, “I heard you talking about changes. Well, I don’t care who the president is, even if he is a Democrat. Melody and I are going to tie the knot soon anyway, and that’s not going to change. I just bought a new Chevy 409 four-speed. And the payments aren’t going to change till it’s all paid for.”

“These drinks are paid for, so let’s drink up. Tonight is not about world events; it’s about friendship,” Jerry said in a loud, cheery voice.

Glancing around, Alex could see that everyone was enjoying the evening. This was a night for good conversation and laughs. He could see from the corner of his eye that Jerry was enjoying the close companionship of being at O’Connor’s. As the evening progressed, the crowd got noisier, and conversations went from talking to nearly yelling.

Ida sat drinking in the beer and the stories of this group. Danny reminisced about the times he siphoned gasoline from his father’s state-owned automobile and put it in his own car. Mr. Fredrick couldn’t understand why he was getting such poor mileage. Unfortunately this free gas program came to an end when Danny’s lips became horribly infected. Danny and his father made a visit to Dr. Wagner’s for medication. The doctor believed the infection Danny had contracted was due to lead poisoning, perhaps from gasoline. He prescribed a messy, jelly-like ointment to be applied on his lips, which restricted Danny’s romantic backseat escapades for a while. It created even more problems for Danny when Mr. Fredrick ran out of gas late one night and realized just how Danny had contracted lead poisoning. The punishment that followed was swift but not effective.

Jerry started kidding Phil about his good eyes during football practice. It seemed Phil needed snow tires for his old car, but he didn’t have the money for new tires. One of the football team’s drills was to high-step through discarded tires. While running through the tire drill, Phil spotted some tires that would hold air and fit nicely on his car. So after football practice one night, he and Alex went to the practice field under the cover of darkness and gathered up two slightly worn snow tires for Phil’s car. It was the joke of the high school that the discarded tires became so valuable to a certain team member on and off the field.

Nancy told a funny account of how shocked she was when they all attended a party at Phil Newman’s house. Phil’s poor, widowed mother decided to go away to visit her sister over the New Year’s Eve weekend. Phil hosted a party that began about noon on New Year’s Eve and lasted for three days. When Mrs. Newman returned from her holiday, the house was a wreck. Her prized German knickknacks were broken and crudely glued together. There were stains on her Persian carpets and burn spots on the hardwood floors.

The neighbors complained to the three-man police force that Newman’s home appeared to change into a teenage brothel for the weekend, with people going in and out twenty-four hours a day, drunks lying on the porch, and frolickers relieving themselves in the bushes on the sides of the home. When the police chief arrived early in the evening to evaluate the situation, Phil invited him in for a drink to discuss the problem. The chief of police enjoyed the discussion and the drinks, partying through the night. After spending the night at the beer bash, the chief had other pressing problems for the next few days.

The stories continued with humorous descriptions of past feats and debacles. Ida was amazed how unbelievably funny the stories were. She liked the story they told of late summer nights after the A&P closed; the store would leave hundreds of watermelons out front unguarded. This was when the members of the A-team were most proficient. They would drive by slowly, jump out of the moving car, gather up three or four watermelons and then race off to Dr. Stone’s for a watermelon party. Watermelon parties in the cornfields were a great time. How this group didn’t have any permanent damage from broken bones, or remained in school and kept out of jail was amazing. One string of connection running through the stories was the bond they all had. They didn’t always agree on certain subjects, but they all seemed to laugh together.

X   X   X   X

As the night progressed, the crowd started to thin out. Jerry noticed the bar now had empty stools and said, “Let’s adjourn to the bar and talk to Eddy.”

They all made their way to the bar, and Ida and Nancy sat down on two barstools. Eddy was sitting directly behind the bar facing the two girls as he patiently washed glasses and dried them with a white towel. Eddy perked up to take care of his two pretty customers. With his glass eye partially closed, he stared at the girls with his good eye and asked, “Would you lovely ladies like a drink?”

Jerry, who was standing behind the girls, said, “Yes, they would like a drink, Eddy; that’s why they’re sitting at the bar. And so would the rest of us. So would you pour us some of your watered-down beer?”

Eddy cocked his head, looking directly at Jerry, put up his open hands like an old boxer, and started yelling with a smile, “Now wait a minute! These young ladies were here first. I will take their order first.” Eddy smiled at the girls. “Now what would you like?”

“Draft beers, if you please, Mr. O’Connor. Would you join us with a drink yourself, sir?” Nancy said with a smile. “When you have time, would you kindly serve the riffraff behind me some of that watered-down beer?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll get your drinks, and we don’t water down the beer either! And yes, I will have a drop of the creature with you,” Eddy said as he got up to get the beers. After all the drinks were served, Eddy sat down and poured himself a shot of PM whiskey—jokingly called Polish Moonshine. Eddy stood, lifting his whiskey, and said, “First one today.” Everyone laughed. “To your health and good fortunes.” He then gulped the shot down followed by a glass of beer.

Then Danny asked, “Hey, Eddy, show Ida the gold tiepin.” Danny looked over at Ida and said excitedly, “You really ought to see it; it’s neat.”

Eddy leaned over the bar with pride to show his prized tiepin. “I was wounded in World War I. The doctors cut this out of my body and gave it to me as a souvenir. When I came home, I had it dipped in gold. Isn’t it nice?” Eddy said with pride.

            This was the moment Jerry was waiting for; Eddy had heard it all before and was anticipating a reaction. “Eddy, I just completed many weeks of military training. We watched air bombardments and trained with rifles, machine guns, bazookas, mortars, artillery, and even flamethrowers. Of all the weapons we trained with, including all the weapons of this century, I never heard of such a secret weapon. You are the only one I’ve ever heard of who was shot with a tiepin.” Everyone burst out laughing.

         Eddy stood silently, smiling. He was used to the carrying on. He enjoyed the young, quick-witted Turks. It was like he understood their youthful humor; it kept him in spirit. He turned to the girls. “See what I have to put up with? Now if I were fifty years younger, I would be taking you girls out to a nice place.”

About this time Alex returned from the men’s room. He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “Hey, Eddy, I was just in the men’s room. I see Frances finally changed the newspaper in there. I didn’t finish reading the old one. I wanted to find out if there were any survivors on the Titanic.” Again laughter.

Nancy chimed in with her newly gained independent wit. “In the ladies room is a more recent newspaper. According to the headlines, it looks like President Franklin Roosevelt’s going to run for a second term.”

Johnny broke in, “We have to get going. I better get Melody home soon; I don’t want to take any chances with her parents churning up the waters in the sea of love.”

“We all know where your sea of love is located, Johnny, at Dr. Stone’s. We’ve seen your Chevy rocking on that sea.” Phil injected his humor again as everyone chuckled.

Melody blushed. Johnny put his arm around her, saying, “That’s okay, honey; we have each other, and they have their beers.” He then looked at Phil with a large smile on his face. “Remember, Phil, you can sip a beer all night, but you can’t kiss a beer good night.”

“Yeah, Phil, I’ve seen some of the babes you’ve dated,” Danny jumped in. “And the beers have better-looking heads.”

The bantering continued for a few minutes, back and forth, and the humorous verbal insults danced. Ida was witness to a rare and wonderful display of friendship, caring, acceptance, respect, trust, and love. This group thrived on each other’s presence. She enjoyed every physical expression and every word they spoke.

Jerry lifted his glass, putting his arm around as many as possible and asked, “Is everybody going to the breakfast tomorrow?” In unison everyone yelled, “I’ll be there.”

Jerry walked to the bar and raised a hand in the air. “Eddy, would you pour us each a drop of the creature?” Looking at the bottles on the shelf, he requested, “A shot of Rock & Rye. I’d like to make a toast.”

Eddy put seven shot glasses on the bar and slowly, meticulously poured out the shots as the A-team watched in amazement. When his ritual was complete, everyone held a shot.

Jerry stood back a few feet from the group. He was swaying a little from all the beers he drank, but he stood erect looking intensely into the faces of those he loved. “A toa