Edie’s eyes filled with tears. “They are filled with optimism and hope.” Her voice caught. “And love. Let us never forget that, even if all the world around us seems to be sinking into darkness.”
There was total silence, except for some sniffles that seemed to be coming from all around the room. Then Frank got to his feet. He was looking at his mother, and his eyes were shining. “Thank you, Mom.” His voice caught and he had to swallow quickly. “Thank you for reminding us of that.” Then he smiled. “And I think I just heard an encouraging word. Which all of us very much needed right now.”
“Amen!” Mitch boomed.
“Amen,” the others said.
Frank turned to Celeste, and something unspoken passed between them. She was weeping too, but she nodded. “Yes. Tell them, Frank.”
“Here is another encouraging word,” he said, remaining standing. “Celeste will be moving back to the United States in August to take a position at Columbia University in New York City.”
There was stunned silence, but then the whole room erupted. Reggie shot to his feet and gaped at his mother.
“And,” Frank said over the noise, “Celeste and I have committed ourselves to making our marriage work and—” Words failed him then, which was just as well, because the whole room exploded with cries of astonishment and joy.
Mitch stood and moved over by Celeste’s side. His cheeks were wet too. And then he began to clap, slowly and loudly. And moments later the main house of the EDW Ranch was filled with thunderous applause.
Mitch stood there, moved beyond words, until it gradually quieted again. Every eye was on him, wondering what he could possibly say after Frank’s announcement. He didn’t hesitate for a moment. “This family council is hereby adjourned for half an hour. Since discouraging words are no longer acceptable, we shall now move to the kitchen, where we shall have some of Grandma’s homemade pies.”
Chapter Notes
The facts and statistics shared in this chapter accurately reflect what was going on in America and Utah in the early thirties. The chapter is set in late May of 1932, when America was not yet two years into the Great Depression. Some of what is depicted in this chapter came a year or so later but is included here to convey the profound impact the economic collapse was having on the country. The “newspaper clippings” read by Mitch are based largely on information in Kyvig’s Daily Life in the United States, 1920–1940, 209–30. Other sources of significance were Nishi, Life during the Great Depression; Cannon, “Struggle against Great Odds: Challenges in Utah’s Marginal Agricultural Areas, 1925–39”; McCormick, “The Great Depression,” in Utah History to Go; and “Agricultural Hard Times & the Great Depression, 1929–1930, Utah Studies.
May 31, 1932, 6:42 p.m.—Living Room,
EDW Ranch House
Once again Mitch took the chair by the dormant fireplace facing his family. Edie sat nearby him on a wooden chair from the kitchen. She watched proudly as her family filed back in. Frank and Celeste were the last to get seated. The family had deliberately left the sofa open so they could—or had to!—sit close to each other. Edie was pleased to see Frank reach out and take Celeste’s hand again as they sat down. As she got settled, Edie also noticed that Celeste was sitting about two or three inches closer to Frank than she had been before. She smiled inwardly. Maybe, just maybe.
As soon as the last of them had found their places, Mitch stood and began. “Okay, we have done a quick assessment of conditions around us and the challenges they are creating or will yet create in our lives. So now on to our second task, which is to decide how we follow the Lord’s counsel and prepare ourselves to be more independent. Grandma and I have discussed how we go about getting answers to this second question and—”
Abby, who had sprawled out on the rug alongside the other older girls, was now on her knees and had her hand in the air.
“Yes, Abby?”
“I have a third question I’d like us to answer too.”
“All right.”
“What does all of this mean for us? And by us I mean all of our family, but especially us kids. Do you think we will end up in a garbage dump scavenging for food?”
“Oh, Abby,” Edie cried. “That’s not what your father was saying.”
But Mitch responded in another way. “That is an excellent question, Abby. And a sobering one, to be sure. But the answer to that will depend on how we prepare ourselves to stay independent. If we strive to do that, I think we will be blessed.”
He glanced down at Edie briefly. “But sometimes the Lord doesn’t remove all hardships in our lives. He doesn’t make the way perfectly smooth for us. There are a lot of good, faithful people out there, some who are our good friends, who are going through rough times right now, and I don’t think we can conclude that it is because they are wicked. That’s just life sometimes. So, if I have given you the impression that if we are faithful enough, all will be well, then I am sorry for that. Our purpose is to do all we can do to be obedient, then put our trust in the Lord to help us get through whatever lies ahead.”
Abby sat back again. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“And thank you for that question,” he said.
It was a sobering moment for all, and the room was completely quiet. Finally Mitch broke in again. “As Mother and I talked about this portion of our council, we decided that we want this to be a true family council, and not just us talking at you. So, we would like to divide into groups and have you address the question at hand, namely, how do we prepare ourselves as a family to better meet whatever conditions lie ahead for us?”
Edie stood up. “Divide up however you wish. Smaller groups may be better, but we leave that up to you. We’ll give you forty-five minutes. Feel free to stay in here or go outside. Oh, and designate someone as your scribe so you can bring your answers back in for discussion.”
When no one spoke or moved, she clapped her hands. “Go!”
7:43 p.m.
As everyone filed back into the living room, Tina came over to where her parents were seated and held out her group’s sheet to her mother. But Edie shook her head. “Each group should appoint a leader, and that leader will share their proposals with the group.”
Tina nodded and turned to face her family. “I just want to say to all of you that our group had an amazing experience. Even the younger ones were totally engaged. And you won’t believe what some of them came up with.”
There were voices of agreement from all around the room.
Edna June stood up and walked toward the fireplace, where a quilt covered a large object of some kind. It had not been there when the groups had divided up. “What’s that, Grandma?” she asked.
“Never mind, dear,” Edie said with a smile. “We’ll get to that in a minute.
As soon as everyone was settled, Mitch got to his feet. They quieted immediately. “All right,” he said. “Grandma and I are anxious to hear what you all came up with. We’re pleased that you took this assignment seriously. But first, there is one thing we have.”
He paused and looked around at the upturned faces. “Last night, as we made plans for this council, Grandma and I decided that if we were going to ask you to come up with ways to better prepare for what’s coming, then we needed to come up with a proposal of our own. So we would like to begin with that.” He turned and whipped the blanket off of the object on the hearth.
For a moment, there wasn’t a sound, and then MJ shot to his feet. “No, Dad. Not the Oberammergau Jar. No way!”
Mitch ignored him. “In 1922, Grandma and I, and Abby and Benji, went to Germany with the Reissner family to see a marvelous play about the last week of Christ’s life. It is held every ten years in a small village called Oberammergau. It was such an incredible experience for each of us that we decided we wanted to take all of our family to the next performance, which was to be held in 1930. So, that Christmas, as yo
u will remember, we found a large pickle jar. We washed it out, cut a slit in the lid, and declared it to be our Oberammergau fund. We invited all of the family to put any loose change or small bills into the bottle, with those funds to be set aside for a future family trip to Oberammergau. That was almost ten years ago, and as you can see, the bottle is now more than half full.”
“And that’s where it needs to stay!” Rena exclaimed.
Mitch ignored her, too. “Our plans to return to Germany in 1930 were put on hold when the stock market crashed. But we didn’t give up hope. We learned from our friends in Germany that the play will be put on again in 1934, which is the three-hundredth anniversary of the founding of the play, and so we postponed those plans.”
Mitch ignored all the gaping mouths. “As hard as it is for the two of us to say this, it has become painfully obvious that no one in this family will be going to Germany two years from now. Therefore, tomorrow morning, I shall take this jar up to Green River and deposit its contents into a new bank account, which we shall call the Westland Independence Fund.”
Rowland didn’t bother to raise his hand, he just blurted it out: “With all the bank failures, is that a good idea?”
Frank answered that. “Dad banks with Utahza Bank, the banking group owned by Adelia Reissner’s father. As do I. They are a very conservative bank and have managed their assets wisely. This bank is not going to fail.”
“Thank you, Frank. That is why we chose them.”
Tina gave up trying to be called on to speak. She just started talking. “Okay, I can see why putting it in the bank is a good idea. It’s probably not wise to have that much money sitting around in the house—a house where you never lock the doors, by the way. How much money is in the Oberammergau jar? Do we know?”
Abby sang out the answer. “$3,860. Benji and I counted it last week.”
There were exclamations of a surprise and several low whistles. “Wow, that’s a lot,” Little Rena exclaimed.
“Yes it is, Rena,” Mitch said. “And it would go a long way toward keeping us independent in the hard times that are coming. That is why Grandma and I are putting those funds to a new use.”
MJ walked over to stand beside his father. “Wait, Dad. You can’t just make a preemptive strike like that and say, ‘This is what we will be doing.’ This is a family council, remember. And, by the way, all of us have contributed to this fund of ours. So it’s not just your money. It’s our money too. And we think we should have a voice in what’s done with it.” He looked around the room. “Right?”
“Yes!” They almost shouted it out.
“So, all in favor of abandoning the idea of ever going to Oberammergau as a family and putting this money to some other use, please raise your hands.”
Two hands went up. Edie’s and Mitch’s. “Motion denied,” MJ sang out.
Edie was holding back a smile and her eyes were twinkling. “Your intentions are good, son, but in this matter you are in a dictatorship, not a democracy. This is your father’s and my decision.”
“Tyranny!” June cried, trying hard not to laugh.
“Hypocrisy!” Frank hollered. “It can’t be a family council unless we all have a voice.”
They were all having a roaring good time. Tina raised her hand. MJ pointed to her. “Speak!”
“I say we mutiny!” she exclaimed. “All in favor?”
Hands shot up all around as people laughed and cried out, “Mutiny! Mutiny!”
Little Rena, now twelve, jumped up and ran over to her grandfather. She tugged on his arm. “Look, Grandpa! Look at Grandma.”
Now they all roared. Edie’s hand was high in the air even as she studiously avoided looking at her husband.
Shaking his head, Mitch grudgingly sat down beside her. “Mutineer,” he growled.
Edie leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment, dear.” Then she sobered. “But, I will agree only with this stipulation. If the time comes that Grandpa and I feel like we need those funds to help our family, he and I are authorized to use them as we see fit.”
MJ was nodding vigorously. “No objection to that. All in favor?”
Every hand in the room came up, including Mitch’s.
MJ inclined his head in his father’s direction, trying hard not to smile. “Mr. Chairman, the floor is now yours again. You may proceed.”
Mitch turned to his wife. “Our cochair is now in charge of this meeting.”
Edie got to her feet. “Okay. We shall now ask each group captain to come up and share their proposals. Celeste, I see you are holding a sheet. Would you begin for us?”
Celeste came up to stand between Mitch and Edie. She glanced at the sheet and began. “We had several good ideas, but we finally settled on just one because we think it is the most important. I personally think this is brilliant, and worthy of serious consideration.” She raised the paper and began to read slowly but clearly.
“This proposal has two parts. Part A: We propose that in the extended Westland family, no more debt of any kind be incurred by any family member without it first being discussed in a family council. We recognize that this is a very personal decision for each family. However, if one family gets into financial trouble, that affects all of us. Thus, the approval by the family.” She looked up. “That is, for any member of the family who wants to continue to be a part of the general family council.”
Rowland spoke up. “That way the family council becomes a financial council as well.”
“Exactly,” Celeste said. “Okay, Part B. We propose that we carefully consider any and all debt that anyone in this family currently holds and create a specific financial plan to help them pay it off as quickly as possible. That way we are not at the mercy of banks or other financial institutions.”
She lowered the paper, her demeanor now very somber. “I will just add this: I know from personal experience what can happen when we borrow more money than we can pay back, especially when no one else in the family knows about it.”
Though they were sobered by her last comment, which everyone knew referred to her father, applause erupted as Celeste handed the sheet to Edie and returned to her seat.
Edie spoke. “Thank you, Celeste, and your group. Very impressive. Okay, next we’ll hear from Tina’s group.”
Tina got to her feet and began. “We had several younger members of the family in our group, and this is basically their proposal. It was Reggie’s and Edna June’s idea, so I’m going to have them tell you about it.” She motioned for them to stand up.
They came up beside Edie and conferred together for a moment. Edna June agreed to whatever Reggie said and began. “Okay, here is our idea. There’s a saying that is very popular right now. I hear it all the time in our house. It goes like this: ‘Use it up. Wear it out. Make it do. Or do without.’” As several nodded at that, Edna June motioned for Reggie.
Reggie was beaming as he began. “Uncle Rowland was in our group, and he suggested that we think of ways that we can get the younger children involved, because they’re part of the family too. So we decided that those of us who are twelve and under will go through all of our houses and find anything that is maybe worn out, broken, tossed aside, or discarded. Then us kids, with help from our parents when we need it, will fix the items up.” His grin nearly split his face. “That’s our idea.”
“Wonderful!” Edie cried “What a—”
Reggie held up his hand. “I’m not done, Grandma.”
“Oh.” She tried not to smile. “Sorry, Reggie.”
“It’s all right,” he said solemnly. “I forgive you.” That made Celeste shake her head and many of the adults smile. “And once we’re done fixing up things in our houses, then us kids will take our wagons and go into town and see if other people have stuff that we can fix up for them, or maybe that we can give to the poor.”
Finished
, he folded his arm across his midriff and bowed to the group before returning to his seat amid many enthusiastic congratulations. Celeste’s tears spilled over as she watched him. Frank got up and pulled his son and Edna June into a big bear hug. “Wow!” was all he could manage to say.
And so it went, with each group proposing a way to secure the family’s financial independence. After half an hour of reports, Mitch got to his feet again. Everyone quickly quieted.
He stood there for a long time, letting his eyes move slowly around the group. Then he cleared his throat and said only this:
“Our dear family. You have captured the spirit of preparing ourselves to remain independent as a family. Your grandmother and I could not be more proud. Thank you.” Then he smiled lazily. “And I noticed earlier that we were able to consume only about half of the pies that Grandma and the ladies made for our meeting tonight. It would be a shame to see those go to waste.” His suggestion on how to solve that problem was drowned out by a stampede of children and grandchildren rushing for the kitchen.
September 17, 1932, 10:13 a.m.—
München Hauptbahnhof, Munich, Germany
Hans Eckhardt continued to peer out the window as the train came to a complete stop, looking up and down the platform for any sign of Emilee and the children. They weren’t there. He swore to himself. Great! One more thing gone wrong. Muttering, he reached up and retrieved his valise.
This foul mood had been on him for a week now. Joseph Goebbels had called Hans on Sunday morning and told him that the Führer wanted him in Berlin by that evening. He had apologized, but only just barely, promising that it would be for only two or three days. Monday morning had been the opening session of the Reichstag, and Adolf wanted Hans around in case any issues came up about elections or related topics. So Hans had packed only his valise, bringing two extra shirts and two changes of underwear. He had also decided that he could get by with wearing the same suit for that long.
Out of the Smoke Page 15
