Part 8 (1/2)
None came.
”Well, Daddy, what do you think?”
Roy stirred his coffee and re-read the article as though he hadn't heard Rick's question. He laid the paper down, went to the sink, and poured out his unfinished cup of coffee then turned toward Rick.
”Good article, son. Just wish it had been better news. There's a union meeting tonight. I think we might make a decision on the contract offer.” Roy paused and grimaced, ”That was a pretty dirty trick ole Sam pulled, using you to send us an ultimatum on their offer. He's. .h.i.t us over the head with the threat of losing our jobs right now or accepting their terms until they close us down permanently in a year or so. Some choice.”
Roy kissed Mary Beth on the cheek before he left for his picket s.h.i.+ft-a display of affection Rick had seldom seen between them. She wrapped her arms around him like she didn't want him to leave.
”Be careful out there,” she said as he pulled away from her.
”I'll be late, but don't worry. Just leave me a plate in the oven. No telling how long the meeting will last. We have a lot to talk about.” Roy left with his shoulders drooping like an old man.
Chapter 17.
”Again, after December 7, 1941, Coastline was called on to help with the war effort and the steam engine was the workhorse.”
Town divided In less than two weeks of fierce bargaining, the strike was settled. Coastline increased the raise offer by two cents an hour, up to seven cents an hour. The union dropped its demands for improved working conditions and relinquished a holiday to keep two sick days.
Bankstowne residents were bitter, but relieved to have the National Guard gone and their jobs back.
”Things will never be the same,” Roy said to Harold Birch on their way back to work. ”People got hurt, our town got a black eye, and we all know our jobs and way of life will be gone soon. I guess we'd better make the best of the time we have left and figure out what we're going to do when the end comes.”
”Yeah, I reckon so. I could have retired a year ago,” Birch said, ”but what would I do? Sweatin' steel tires on those big old drive wheels is all I know how to do. Diesels have small wheels with an electric motor driving them. They just don't wear out like those steam engine drivers digging at the rails to get a string of boxcars moving. Guess I'll hang it up and do a lot more fis.h.i.+ng. What about you, Roy? You're too young to retire.”
Roy didn't respond. He just looked forward and kept walking.
Sam Johnson was promoted to Vice President of Operations of Coastline Railway as a reward for bringing the strike to a quick end. His new position required him to move to corporate offices in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.
Sam's wife, Pearl lost the few friends she had in Bankstowne because of the strike but wasn't excited about moving to the wealthy community of Potomac, Maryland where other corporate and high ranking government officials lived. She was a small town mother who liked watching her son play football at Chapel Hill. Now they were more than 300 miles away. Going to the games in Coastline's executive car was boring, and the heavy cigar and cigarette smoke that filled the car aggravated her allergies. By the time they arrived at Chapel Hill, her clothes were saturated with smoke and she had to change before they left the hotel for the game.
Fewer workers were needed to work on the dwindling number of steam engines being brought in for repairs. As the old-timers retired, they weren't replaced.
”Today is Harold's last day,” Roy said over the top of his newspaper to Mary Beth, who was busy working the crossword puzzle after breakfast. ”They're sending me and several of the other men to Detroit to be trained on diesel repairs. Four roundhouse stalls are being modified so we can work on diesels here. That's the most encouraging sight I've seen since the strike. Maybe a few of us will survive after all.”
Mary Beth's small hand jerked the paper from Roy. ”And when were you going to tell me about this trip?”
”I didn't know about it until yesterday just before we clocked out. I wanted to sleep on it and was just too tired to talk about it last night.”
”What was there to think about-do you have a choice? There aren't a lot of jobs for men who spent their life working on steam locomotives that won't exist this time next year,” Mary Beth said. ”When will you leave and how long will your be gone? Wil's in Raleigh at college and Rick never gets home until I'm already in bed.”
”I leave a week from Monday and will be gone for six weeks. We'll get to come home for Christmas for a couple of days, but that's it. I'll talk to Rick. He can come home earlier to make sure everything is okay and run any errands you need.”
”I'll be fine, I just would have liked a little more notice, that's all,” Mary Beth pouted. ”Hurry up and finish breakfast. You're going to be late for work.”
Chapter 18.
”Your selfless efforts in a time of need to transport troops and war materials to support of our brave men fighting a global conflict was met with enthusiasm.”
Decision Time Rick's exclusive coverage of the Shops' violent strike for the Raleigh Times Herald was also picked up nationally by the a.s.sociated Press. Editor Dan Jenkins of the Herald offered him a job if he would come to Raleigh and finish his Journalism degree at N.C. State.
It was a tough decision. Roy's health had declined. He'd retired on a disability pension from Coastline.
Mary Beth had always supported his journalistic pursuits, and even Roy had come around and was proud of the job Rick had done at the newspaper during the strike.
”You need to go, son,” Roy said. ”You worked hard and this chance will put you right in the heart of the state's politics there in Raleigh. With your brother married and in school, it'll be good for you two to be together again in the same city.”
Orange Bowl 1959 Sam Johnson hugged his six-foot-two, 230-pound All American son in the middle of the Orange Bowl playing field. 85,000 fans and dozens of TV broadcasters surrounded them after North Carolina defeated preseason favorite Notre Dame on national TV.
”I couldn't have asked for anything better, son,” Sam said. ”Stomping Notre Dame forty-two to thirteen was the best Christmas present you ever gave me. We'll be number one in all the polls after today, and you made it happen.”
”I told you last year we would win the Orange Bowl and be national champs, didn't I?”
Tank and Sam's celebration was cut short by TV reporters from all the major networks that had formed a circle around the game's star player for interviews.
Tom Harmon managed to shout over the noisy celebration going on behind the cameras. ”Tank, how does it feel to be a four-time All American on the national champion North Carolina team? And I just got word you've been voted Most Valuable Player in today's game by the a.s.sociated Press.”
Tank waved toward the cameras, flas.h.i.+ng the number one symbol with his index finger. Tom came in for a close-up of Tank, trying to cut out some of the background noise.
”It feels great, Tom. We worked hard for this moment. We thought it was going to happen last year, but we'll take it today. It's been a great run, a dream we worked on for four years.”
”What are your feelings on last year's ranking?”
”Well Tom, we were undefeated and beat the best teams in the country. There's no question we deserved the champions.h.i.+p last year. But they gave it to Texas thanks to a system that elects a champion instead of having playoffs to let the best team win it on the field. We just had to come back this year and prove we were for real. We beat a great Notre Dame team who was the pre-season pick to finish number one. It's been a great four years and this is a perfect ending.”
”Speaking of perfect endings, rumors are going around that you're going into politics the next election. Is that true?”
”A lot of stories have been going around about that, Tom. I won't deny that I might be interested in running for governor someday, but my next objective is to graduate from law school here at Chapel Hill. After that, who knows what will happen? Right now I just want to enjoy the moment with my teammates and family.”
”The Was.h.i.+ngton Redskins are talking about making you their number one pick in the draft next year. Would you pa.s.s up a guaranteed starting position with a long-term, million dollar contract for law school?”
”Like I said, I just want to enjoy the moment. There's plenty of time to decide what my next move will be. Thank all you Carolina fans out there. Go Tar Heels!” Tank shouted to the cameras as a throng of screaming fans surrounding them picked up the chant. He received pats on the back from fans as he made his way through the crowd towards the locker room.
”Well, you heard it from the most prolific running back in the history of the University of North Carolina football, Tank Johnson. He surpa.s.sed former Tar Heel great Charlie ”Choo Choo” Justice's long standing records for the most yardage gained and touchdowns scored. He hasn't decided what his future holds, but it's for sure he can write his own ticket for whatever he decides to do. Stay tuned, folks. We may have just interviewed the next NFL Rookie of the Year or future Governor of North Carolina. This is Tom Harmon sending it back upstairs to you, Chris.”
Dodging delirious fans, players and cheerleaders hugging each other all over the field, Rick Barnes headed for the largest gathering of bodies moving toward the end of the field. He flashed his press badge and shoved his way past the state troopers escorting Tank off the field.
”Congratulations on a great game and career, Tank.” Rick used a sincere tone as he extended his hand to Tank.
”Well, little man, what are you doing way down here in Florida? A trip like this would break that little rag in Bankstowne,” Tank said.