The yellow lines on the highway sped by in a blur, and we flew through the night, and we felt free. But we weren't, and we knew it. We were running away from something, running away was never the path to freedom. I thought about telling John to turn back. I thought about suggesting what he already knew. We had nothing. Enough money to share a meal and maybe one more tank of gas. We'd have to sleep in the truck. We didn't have enough for a hotel room. A 2,340 mile trip from Biloxi, Mississippi to San Francisco, California and we were only in Houston. There was no way we were going to make it. Another 1,900 miles to go, I wasn't even sure if we'd make it out of Texas before we ran out of gas. In fact, I knew we wouldn't.
But it didn't worry him. He had no fear. Probably because back in Mississippi he had nothing. His parents already knew. They disowned him and had kicked him out of the home weeks before. He had no family, no friends. No one to turn to. Except me. I'd like to think that had we been born at a later time that it'd been easier. It'll never be easy for young men or young women to come out, but I like to at least tell myself that it's easier now then it was then. 1950's Mississippi was not a place for us. Not that 2016 is. We were two 17 year olds who hadn't finished high school, who had no money, no jobs and nothing but a stolen pickup truck and each other. It's selfish and it's petty of me to feel envy for young homosexuals today. If anything I should be happy for them that they no longer have to endure the hardships that John and I had to. Not that they don't have their own struggles, but today they have more places to go, more allies to turn to. We didn't. What I ought to feel I suppose is thankful, but what I do feel is anger. Anger that I had to grow up in a time where John and I were denied our basic rights as human beings because we were different. Anger that because someone else felt freedom didn't apply to people like John and me.
My parents didn't know about me. Other than John, nobody knew. I could still turn back and I think I knew eventually that I would. As much as I loved hearing John tell stories of the beats and Allen Ginsberg, I guess I knew we'd never make it to San Francisco or at least I wouldn't anyway. When you're young, you can't help but put your dreams ahead of your realities. My fantasy was to live in a world where I could love John openly. Where our lives didn't have to happen behind closed doors. Maybe had we been closer it would have happened.
Once we ran out of gas, a trucker gave us a ride all the way to Glenwood, New Mexico. That's when we began to walk. It was hot and it was scary. I never saw one, but I heard the rattles in the grass only a few feet away. It made me wonder what other critters might jump out and get us. After what seemed like forever, we made it to the next town. I don't even remember the name. It had a bus depot. It was there, as I tried to sleep on that cold, hard bench that I realized that this was point of no return. One more step to the west and I was headed to San Francisco. Headed into the unknown, the uncertainty. I began to panic at that moment, wishing I had never gone. John slept on the ground below me. As harmonious as he looked, I'd like to think he dreamed of our lives together in San Francisco. That he imagined us living out our lives in adventurous reward. I couldn't wake him from that. As soon as he woke, I'd let him know I had changed my mind. That I was going back to Biloxi. I figure I was about to crush his dream soon enough. The least I could do was let him dream about it for a few more hours.
He told me he understood. He told me he supported me. I had security back home. A well enough off family, high school to finish up and a job I could go to. His grandpa had given him a ring that I always understood to be the most valuable thing that he owned. It was enough to buy me a one way bus ticket back home.
I convinced my parents and everyone else that I had followed John out of Biloxi trying to get him to change his evil ways. That I felt John wasn't really like that and I could change him. That'd I'd be the one to get him to give up his gayness and I'd bring him back the good Christian boy that he had been raised to be. His parents thanked me and told me not to feel bad because they too had tried and failed. I was made out to be a hero. A savior, and thought to be one until the day they all died.
I never saw John again. Back in those days we didn't have cell phones and internet. No one was in any hurry to try and look for him. When asked where I thought he went, I lied and said Canada. I have tried a few times over the years to look up John Milner, but I've had no luck. It doesn't surprise me much, he always hated the name Milner. Always said he couldn't wait to get married and take a different last name. Sipes, it could have been, although I don't think it's much better.
I saw on the news recently that there are kids who refuse to stand for the pledge. I stood for the pledge of allegiance every morning of elementary school. I recited those words every time. "With liberty and justice for all." Every morning. Every single morning I'd say those words. I guess all didn't include me, and it didn't include John.
Monday, March 18, 2019
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Complete The Story: 7 of 198
Reporters are trained to develop a sixth sense, a nose for when a story smells fishy. And something about this one wasn't right. First of all, there was no way a single man could've gone into that burning house and pulled out all twelve of those children, plus the two adults. Not in that amount of time anyway. According to eye witnesses he was in and out of that house fourteen times in less than five minutes. A faulty electrical outlet caused the fire to break out at 8:58 p.m. and by 9:02, everyone was out of the house and safe. The man, who witnesses described as white male, 5'10, 150 lbs, brown curly hair had been wearing a backpack and a Central City Community College t-shirt had been walking with two other students when they noticed the fire.
"He just sprung into action." 18 year old Jessie Feldkamp said when questioned. "As we were walking I saw the smoke and yelled, 'Oh my God, that house is on fire!' We didn't even see him take off. He was in and out of that house with a little girl in a matter of seconds."
"He was like a bolt of lightning." 19 year old Heath McKimm added. "I've never seen a person move so fast in my life."
"We really didn't even see him to be honest." Feldkamp continued. "We just noticed more and more kids outside on the lawn a safe distance from the house."
"You mean you didn't even see him set the kids on the lawn?" I asked in disbelief.
"No." There was no hesitation in her voice. Her assurance was incontestable. "They just seemed to appear one by one."
"They seemed as confused as we were." McKimm said. "It all happened so fast that we had no time to process it."
"Did you see where he went afterwards?"
"No." They both shook their heads. "We didn't. He just disappeared."
"What was the man's name?"
As quickly as Feldkamp and McKimm had been to answer my previous questions they hesitated at this one.
"His name?" I repeated again holding my pen against my pad.
Luckily for me the Fire-chief Jim Wilson was nearby with questions of his own. Having more authority than a local reporter for the Central City Contributor, he didn't ask for respect, he demanded it.
"Barry." Feldkamp answered. "I think he said his name was Barry."
"His last name?" I continued my questioning.
Both Feldkamp and McKimm looked at one another as they motioned that neither one of them knew.
"We had just met him." Feldkamp said.
"We were studying at the library and struck up a conversation with him." McKimm added. "When we left to head back towards the dorms he decided to walk with us."
"You think he stays at the dorms?" I asked.
"I think so." Feldkamp answered.
I realized it was getting late, these kids were exhausted and probably had class in the morning. Their was no reason for me keep them here. I had their names and where they went to college. If I needed them again, they'd be easy enough to find.
Jim Wilson must have felt the same way as he told them to be safe and get on home.
"Chief." I asked him. "Have you had a chance to talk with any of the victims? The children? The adults."
"No." He answered. "They were all taken to Methodist Regional to get checked out. I'm going to head that way here after a bit. Had to make sure that everything was ok here first."
"Could a young man really have done all of that by himself?" It was one thing to talk to two young college aged kids, but I needed an expert opinion. The opinion of a man who had served our community for the past 27 years as Fire Chief.
"God, I wouldn't think so." He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one up. "But there were some other witnesses here before you showed up. There story was exactly the same as those two kids we just talked to."
"Said that the kid ran in and out of the house carrying each of them one by one to the safety of the lawn?"
"My boy Jack was a two time state champion in the 100 yard dash. He still holds records at the high school. He couldn't have done that. Not carrying 25 to 50 lbs kids or two adult women that weighed at least 125 lbs. Not that fast. Not that quick. No way."
"Do you think that's what really happened?"
I'd dealt with Jim Wilson a number of times over the years. This wasn't the first major fire in Central City, nor would it be the last. Yet, in all of our many encounters, I'd never seen him as confused as he was now. Normally he was about as assured of a person as you could get. A man who easily deciphered truth from fiction. Now as I watched the cigarette dangle nervously in his hand, I could tell for the first time in his career he couldn't make sense of the situation.
"The amount of oxygen rich blood that it would take wouldn't even be humanly possible." He continued. "Running up and down those stairs. Carrying all those kids. I don't care how good of shape you're in. No one's conditioning is that good."
"Do you think that there might have been others that were helping him?"
"There would have had to have been." Jim Wilson almost seemed angry as he spoke. "You can't exert yourself that hard and that fast. The human body isn't capable of it."
He took a long drag of his cigarette, which seemed to calm him.
"But" He continued. "No one saw anyone else other than him."
"I'm going to head over to Methodist." I said as I put my pen back into my pocket.
"Don't go bugging those people with 10,000 questions Nick."
"I won't Chief."
I could see him eyeing me as I got into my car and took off for Methodist Regional. I knew I wasn't going to have much luck talking to the small children, so I decided to start with the two adults.
"Becky Baumer?"
She was sitting up in her hospital bed watching TV when I entered her room.
"Yes."
"Mrs. Baumer I'm Nick Retherford of the Central City Contributor. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"Ok."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
She let out a big sigh and gave me a half smile.
"If you're too exhausted we can do this another time."
"No." She gave a small laugh. "It's not that. I'm not injured or anything. I actually had an asthma attack. That's why I'm in the bed."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Excitement triggers it."
"I can imagine."
"Mr. Retherford." She searched for the words as her eyes went back and forth between the TV and me.
"Yes?"
"I don't think you're going to believe me."
I pulled my pad and my pen from my shirt pocket.
"Try me."
"I was putting the last of the kids to bed." She said. "Some of the parents work late and don't even come to pick them up until 10:30. Sometimes even 11. Cindy, the other woman who runs the day care with me screamed that there was a fire in one of the rooms. I told her to grab as many kids as she could and to get to safety as soon as possible."
"What did you do?"
"A little girl was staying in the room that was on fire. I knew I had to get to that room first. So I ran as quickly as I could. The room was filled with smoke. I began to panic that maybe it had gotten her. That she had been burned or the smoke might have gotten her, but then I heard her crying."
"Did you have trouble finding her?"
"No. She was right there. I picked her up and did my best to comfort her and then..."
"And then what?"
"He just appeared. Out of nowhere. He was just there. It startled me. I didn't even hear his footsteps as he ran into the room. He said he was there to help. He asked me to hand her over to him. I did."
"And?"
"He looked me in the eye and said, 'I'll be right back for you' He took off and before I could blink he was back."
"He took her from the upstairs to the grass outside that quickly?"
"No." She gave another small laugh. "He took her from the third floor outside that quickly."
"And then all of a sudden he was back for you?"
"Before I knew it he was back in the room. He said he was going to carry me outside. And I tell you what the strangest thing was."
I stood in anticipation for her to continue.
"He told me to take a deep breath because we were going to have to run through the hot smoke. I feared that I wouldn't be able to hold my breath long enough. Especially since I have asthma. But we were out of the house and onto the lawn before I could even think about it."
"10 seconds?" I was trying to gage how fast we were talking.
"More like one or two." She answered. "It was like a flash."
"Like a what?" I asked
"A flash."
I wrote the word down and headed back to the office. This was breaking News, something that wasn't going to wait until tomorrow. I needed to write this as quickly and get it out as fast as I could.
"A flash." I thought to myself. "He came in like a flash."
I sat down at my computer and began to write.
"He just sprung into action." 18 year old Jessie Feldkamp said when questioned. "As we were walking I saw the smoke and yelled, 'Oh my God, that house is on fire!' We didn't even see him take off. He was in and out of that house with a little girl in a matter of seconds."
"He was like a bolt of lightning." 19 year old Heath McKimm added. "I've never seen a person move so fast in my life."
"We really didn't even see him to be honest." Feldkamp continued. "We just noticed more and more kids outside on the lawn a safe distance from the house."
"You mean you didn't even see him set the kids on the lawn?" I asked in disbelief.
"No." There was no hesitation in her voice. Her assurance was incontestable. "They just seemed to appear one by one."
"They seemed as confused as we were." McKimm said. "It all happened so fast that we had no time to process it."
"Did you see where he went afterwards?"
"No." They both shook their heads. "We didn't. He just disappeared."
"What was the man's name?"
As quickly as Feldkamp and McKimm had been to answer my previous questions they hesitated at this one.
"His name?" I repeated again holding my pen against my pad.
Luckily for me the Fire-chief Jim Wilson was nearby with questions of his own. Having more authority than a local reporter for the Central City Contributor, he didn't ask for respect, he demanded it.
"Barry." Feldkamp answered. "I think he said his name was Barry."
"His last name?" I continued my questioning.
Both Feldkamp and McKimm looked at one another as they motioned that neither one of them knew.
"We had just met him." Feldkamp said.
"We were studying at the library and struck up a conversation with him." McKimm added. "When we left to head back towards the dorms he decided to walk with us."
"You think he stays at the dorms?" I asked.
"I think so." Feldkamp answered.
I realized it was getting late, these kids were exhausted and probably had class in the morning. Their was no reason for me keep them here. I had their names and where they went to college. If I needed them again, they'd be easy enough to find.
Jim Wilson must have felt the same way as he told them to be safe and get on home.
"Chief." I asked him. "Have you had a chance to talk with any of the victims? The children? The adults."
"No." He answered. "They were all taken to Methodist Regional to get checked out. I'm going to head that way here after a bit. Had to make sure that everything was ok here first."
"Could a young man really have done all of that by himself?" It was one thing to talk to two young college aged kids, but I needed an expert opinion. The opinion of a man who had served our community for the past 27 years as Fire Chief.
"God, I wouldn't think so." He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one up. "But there were some other witnesses here before you showed up. There story was exactly the same as those two kids we just talked to."
"Said that the kid ran in and out of the house carrying each of them one by one to the safety of the lawn?"
"My boy Jack was a two time state champion in the 100 yard dash. He still holds records at the high school. He couldn't have done that. Not carrying 25 to 50 lbs kids or two adult women that weighed at least 125 lbs. Not that fast. Not that quick. No way."
"Do you think that's what really happened?"
I'd dealt with Jim Wilson a number of times over the years. This wasn't the first major fire in Central City, nor would it be the last. Yet, in all of our many encounters, I'd never seen him as confused as he was now. Normally he was about as assured of a person as you could get. A man who easily deciphered truth from fiction. Now as I watched the cigarette dangle nervously in his hand, I could tell for the first time in his career he couldn't make sense of the situation.
"The amount of oxygen rich blood that it would take wouldn't even be humanly possible." He continued. "Running up and down those stairs. Carrying all those kids. I don't care how good of shape you're in. No one's conditioning is that good."
"Do you think that there might have been others that were helping him?"
"There would have had to have been." Jim Wilson almost seemed angry as he spoke. "You can't exert yourself that hard and that fast. The human body isn't capable of it."
He took a long drag of his cigarette, which seemed to calm him.
"But" He continued. "No one saw anyone else other than him."
"I'm going to head over to Methodist." I said as I put my pen back into my pocket.
"Don't go bugging those people with 10,000 questions Nick."
"I won't Chief."
I could see him eyeing me as I got into my car and took off for Methodist Regional. I knew I wasn't going to have much luck talking to the small children, so I decided to start with the two adults.
"Becky Baumer?"
She was sitting up in her hospital bed watching TV when I entered her room.
"Yes."
"Mrs. Baumer I'm Nick Retherford of the Central City Contributor. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"Ok."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
She let out a big sigh and gave me a half smile.
"If you're too exhausted we can do this another time."
"No." She gave a small laugh. "It's not that. I'm not injured or anything. I actually had an asthma attack. That's why I'm in the bed."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Excitement triggers it."
"I can imagine."
"Mr. Retherford." She searched for the words as her eyes went back and forth between the TV and me.
"Yes?"
"I don't think you're going to believe me."
I pulled my pad and my pen from my shirt pocket.
"Try me."
"I was putting the last of the kids to bed." She said. "Some of the parents work late and don't even come to pick them up until 10:30. Sometimes even 11. Cindy, the other woman who runs the day care with me screamed that there was a fire in one of the rooms. I told her to grab as many kids as she could and to get to safety as soon as possible."
"What did you do?"
"A little girl was staying in the room that was on fire. I knew I had to get to that room first. So I ran as quickly as I could. The room was filled with smoke. I began to panic that maybe it had gotten her. That she had been burned or the smoke might have gotten her, but then I heard her crying."
"Did you have trouble finding her?"
"No. She was right there. I picked her up and did my best to comfort her and then..."
"And then what?"
"He just appeared. Out of nowhere. He was just there. It startled me. I didn't even hear his footsteps as he ran into the room. He said he was there to help. He asked me to hand her over to him. I did."
"And?"
"He looked me in the eye and said, 'I'll be right back for you' He took off and before I could blink he was back."
"He took her from the upstairs to the grass outside that quickly?"
"No." She gave another small laugh. "He took her from the third floor outside that quickly."
"And then all of a sudden he was back for you?"
"Before I knew it he was back in the room. He said he was going to carry me outside. And I tell you what the strangest thing was."
I stood in anticipation for her to continue.
"He told me to take a deep breath because we were going to have to run through the hot smoke. I feared that I wouldn't be able to hold my breath long enough. Especially since I have asthma. But we were out of the house and onto the lawn before I could even think about it."
"10 seconds?" I was trying to gage how fast we were talking.
"More like one or two." She answered. "It was like a flash."
"Like a what?" I asked
"A flash."
I wrote the word down and headed back to the office. This was breaking News, something that wasn't going to wait until tomorrow. I needed to write this as quickly and get it out as fast as I could.
"A flash." I thought to myself. "He came in like a flash."
I sat down at my computer and began to write.
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