The Proud Shall Stumble

by Gerald N. Lund

  “From what little Hans has told us about the Nazi Party, I think they did more than that. I think Hitler sent a few of his goons—what did Hans call them again?”

  “The stormtroopers.”

  “Yeah. I think they roughed the guy up some and threatened him with serious bodily harm if he didn’t sign those papers.”

  Edie shuddered. “That gives me the chills. Can they do that?”

  “From what I’ve read in the papers, some of those German political parties have their own private armies. One writer said that Hitler’s stormtroopers number around four or five thousand.”

  Edie gaped at him. “Surely no! That has to be an exaggeration.”

  “This isn’t America, Edie,” he said grimly.

  “Poor Emilee. Keep reading.”

  Mitch lifted the letter. Though Edie’s German was good, he was translating Inga’s letter into English as he read. “‘Though the Nazis came very close to succeeding in their putsch, when the three heads of Bavaria’s government escaped from the beer hall, everything fell apart. The next day they decided to march on the Ministry of War and see if they could get the army to join them in the revolt. That’s when they met up with a line of state policemen, who opened fire on them. And that’s when Hans was shot in the back.’”

  Mitch lowered the letter and turned to stare out the window. He seemed suddenly far away. Surprised, Edie leaned forward. “What is it?”

  He turned back, and Edie saw that his face was lined with a deep sadness. “What?” she asked again. “What’s wrong?”

  Mitch finally answered. “I was thinking about Tina.”

  “Really? What brought that on?”

  “Here I’ve been worrying and fretting about how long Tina’s skirt was, and about women smoking, and what to get the kids for Christmas, and that the mercantile store is sold out of nuts, and whether the price of beef is going to stay steady in the spring, and . . .” He looked at Edie, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. “And what are our dear friends across the sea worrying about? War in the streets. People stealing their farms. Inflation so bad that we cannot begin to conceive of it. A government in perpetual crisis.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “A husband and father who may be paralyzed for life. How could I be so blind?”

  Edie got up and came over to sit down beside him on the sofa. She took his hand. There were tears in her eyes. “And women like Inga who have lost their husbands completely. We are so blessed, Mitch. It all puts our troubles in perspective, doesn’t it?”

  “We need to do something for them, Edie.”

  “I agree. But what can we do?”

  “We’ve got some money in our savings. What if I called Jacob Reissner to see if his banking family can transfer money to Germany for us?”

  “Oh, yes! That’s a wonderful idea. How much?’

  Mitch hesitated. “I was thinking maybe a thousand dollars.”

  Edie blinked and then shook her head. “How about two thousand?”

  Mitch gulped.

  “You can sell more cattle next year. Let’s do it. I would feel so much better if we could help them.”

  “Done, then.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Thank you.”

  “They’re my friends too,” Edie said softly. Then she had another idea. “I want to have the kids contribute something too. They could take something out of their allowance. Maybe buy something for their friends and send it to them.” Her words were tumbling out now. “We could do it for Christmas. I know nothing would get there by Christmas, but I could write Inga and Paula and Emilee today and tell them the kids are sending some gifts.”

  “Wonderful!” Mitch exclaimed. “I love it. We’ll sit them down tonight. I want to read Hans’s last letter to the family, where he talked about what the inflation is like for them. And we’ll read parts of this letter too.”

  “Oh, yes, Mitch. That feels so good. Thank you for thinking of it.”

  Nodding, he lifted the letter again and found where he had left off.

  “‘I think I told you before that Emilee decided to be baptized. She had planned to do it right after the funeral, but then everything else happened. With Hans in the hospital, she decided to wait. But her faith stayed strong and unwavering. She had Wolfie call President Schindler, who is still branch president in Munich, and he was able to go into the hospital and give Hans a blessing right after he came out of surgery. When President Schindler called Emilee later, he told her he had felt a wonderful sense of peace as he blessed Hans. He said he felt strongly that Hans will not be paralyzed. And now the doctors are saying that he has feeling in his legs. That has been a huge blessing to all of us, but especially to Emilee.’”

  “Oh, my,” Edie whispered. “Emilee is such a strong woman,” she said softly.

  Mitch continued reading.

  “‘At first, the hospital wouldn’t let Emilee visit Hans, since he is technically a prisoner. Hans, Hitler, and others have been charged with high treason against the state of Bavaria. This is very concerning, because the mandatory sentence if they are found guilty is life imprisonment.’”

  Edie was shocked. “Life in prison? Oh, Mitch. How much more can that poor girl endure?”

  Mitch just shook his head and went on.

  “‘However, through Hitler’s influence—even though he is in prison—Emilee got a court order giving her and me visiting rights. She can see him twice a week, and I am allowed to visit him on Sundays. I still have Emilee’s two little girls with me and will keep them a while longer while all of this works out. The children are not allowed to see their father yet, but I take them to Munich each Sunday and they get to see their mother at least.’”

  “Wonderful!” Edie exclaimed. “One tiny ray of light in a night of darkness.”

  “This Hitler must really be something,” Mitch observed. “No wonder Hans feels so much loyalty to him.”

  “‘The good news is that Emilee is now a member of the Church. She waited until Hans was recovered enough to give his permission. He had no objection. It was a beautiful service. She was baptized in the Isar River, where it runs through the English Gardens. It was a very cold day, but over a hundred people were there, including about ten nonmembers. During the confirmation, President Schindler gave Emilee a remarkable blessing. He said she would be stalwart in the Church and that her powerful example would bring others into the fold.

  “‘And here is more good news. A few days after Emilee was baptized, Ernst—Emilee’s older brother—gave his blessing for Heinz-Albert to be baptized. Ernst has no interest in the Church for himself, but he sees how Emilee has changed and how happy Heinz-Albert is when he goes with her. So when Heinz-Albert asked to be baptized too, Ernst agreed.’”

  Edie clapped her hands. “I knew it. Heinz-Albert is such a wonderful boy.”

  Mitch was reading ahead and cut in. “Well, if you think that’s great, listen to this.”

  “‘But there’s even more amazing news. Anna and Rudi have begun attending church with us. They first went last Sunday. We made sure that they were introduced to everyone. Anna is Catholic, like all of my children, but Rudi is Lutheran. To our joy, Rudi said that he found something in our meetings that really touched his heart. Their little Inga Helene is four now and is a very bright child. And Rudi Jr. is two.

  “‘When they attended the branch last week, President Schindler asked them if they wanted their children to go to Primary with the other children, and they agreed. They loved it! Paula’s daughter, Gretl, happens to be one of the Primary teachers in our branch, so she had them both come to her class. Anna asks me questions about the Church all the time now, but it is Rudi who surprises me the most. He has started to read the Book of Mormon. This brings me and Emilee and Paula great joy, of course.’”

  Stopping, Mitch looked up. “Can you believe that? Anna and Rudi.”

  “It’s incred
ibly wonderful,” Edie said. “I love all of their family, but next to Emilee and Inga, I think I got closer to Anna than any of the others. Oh, how I wish we could just go see them again. Emilee feels like one of our own daughters.”

  “I totally agree.” Mitch lifted the letter again. “Okay, only a few more paragraphs.”

  “‘I must say that the United States continues to astonish our people. You were our enemies in the war, but now you work more diligently than any of the others to help us in our time of need. Bless the United States of America. Berlin has appointed a new Reich Minister of the Currency. He has a reputation for being a brilliant economist and a man who gets things done. They say he is drawing up a plan for a new currency and that, with the help of America, he is pressuring our former enemies to back off somewhat on their demands for war reparation payments. Though it is too early to say what will come of this, there is a mood of optimism in the land. There are many crossed fingers, bowed heads, and bent knees in our country right now.

  “‘We think of you often and express our gratitude to you and to the Lord for your friendship. Dare I ask if it is too early for you to be thinking about a return trip to Oberammergau in 1930? We have a place for you to stay and would rejoice greatly to see you again.

  “‘Well, I must go. Emilee promises to write and give you an update on Hans and their family. And we would love to hear from both of you as well.

  “‘Much love, Inga.’”

  December 10, 1923, 6:35 p.m.—EDW Ranch

  Mitch stomped the snow off of his galoshes as best he could and then opened the door and went into the mudroom. The small room had actually once been their back porch, but several years ago he had enclosed it for just such days as this. It wasn’t heated, but it got him out of the biting wind and kept his muddy boots out of the rest of the house. Wearily he sat down on the bench and began tugging at his boots. As he got the second one off and let it drop to the floor, the door from the kitchen opened.

  His wife was there, wearing an apron and letting in the enticing smell of something baking. Mitch looked up and smiled. “Mmm. I’ll have three of whatever it is you’re cooking in there.” He stood up and shucked off his sheepskin parka.

  It was as though Edie hadn’t heard him. Her eyes were wide and a little dazed. Mitch peered more closely. “Is something wrong?”

  Edie stepped back, holding the door open for him. As he passed her and entered the kitchen, he saw that her eyes were shining. She went to say something but couldn’t get it out.

  Alarmed, Mitch went to her. “Edie? What’s wrong?”

  She sniffed and wiped at her eyes and then threw her arms around him joyfully. “Frank’s coming, Mitch. Frank is coming home.”

  “What? You mean our Frank?”

  “Yes! I just hung up with him.”

  “He’s coming here?”

  Edie laughed aloud. “Yes, here, silly! Can you believe it?”

  “No.” Mitch was dumbfounded. “When is he coming?”

  Edie took his hand. “Come over to the table. I wrote down all the details.”

  As they moved into the kitchen, Mitch looked around. “Where are the children?”

  “Supposedly doing their homework.” Edie tugged on his arm. “We’ll tell them in a minute. Come sit down.”

  He did so and she sat down beside him, taking a folded piece of paper from her apron pocket. As she smoothed it out, she went on talking. “I was bowled over when I heard his voice. I couldn’t believe my ears. His first words were, ‘Mama, it’s me, Frank. I have some good news.’ My first thought was to have him hang on while I ran out and got you, but he said he was meeting with a study group in just a few minutes.”

  Mitch sighed, shaking his head. Five months of nothing but a couple of brief notes and a photo of the baby, and their son finally calls just before he has to leave to study? But he let it go. That was typical Frank.

  “So I grabbed a pencil and paper and I wrote as fast as I could.” She held it up. “He has a final tomorrow morning at 8:30. And that’s his last one. So he has tickets for the express train to Chicago, which leaves at 2:20 their time tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Wow? Tomorrow? Really?” Mitch’s mind was going back to when they had made that same trip the previous year. “So three days will get them here on Thursday?”

  “Not them. Celeste isn’t coming with him. She has—”

  Mitch lurched forward. “Celeste’s not coming?”

  “Celeste’s final exams are not over until Friday morning. Then her parents have some huge Christmas party that night that she needs to be there for. So she will catch that same train on Saturday afternoon. She will only be three days behind Frank.”

  Mitch’s brow furrowed. “With the baby, I assume. She is bringing the baby, right? I mean, we have never seen him, you know.”

  “No, she’s not. Frank—”

  “No?”

  Edie gave a soft snort of exasperation. “Schatzi, if you will just let me finish.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Frank’s train arrives in Thompson Springs at 10:34 Thursday morning. He will be bringing Reginald with him. He asked if we could pick them up there. I told him yes, of course.”

  “Definitely. But how can he bring the baby if Celeste’s nursing him?”

  Edie gave him another look. “She’s not nursing him. She hasn’t since he was born. She goes to school full-time too, remember? A nanny takes care of the baby, and he’s been on a bottle from the beginning.”

  Seeing Mitch’s look, Edie rushed on, cutting off any comment he was about to make on that. “So Celeste will be here next Tuesday at the same time. So we’ll have to make a second trip up to Thompson Springs.”

  “That’s no problem.”

  “That’s what I told him. The good news is that they don’t start school again until January seventh, so they’ll spend New Year’s Eve with us, then we’ll take them back to the train station on New Year’s Day.”

  Mitch reached across the table and laid his hand on Edie’s. “That’s wonderful, Edie. Just wonderful.” But as he sat back, a slight look of worry crossed his face.

  Watching him closely, Edie sighed. “Mitch, I. . . .”

  “What?”

  “I know Celeste’s different. She doesn’t see things like we do. And this will be a dramatic change for her, so let’s just be happy that they’re finally coming. We need to do all we can to make it a good experience for her.”

  “I agree. What? You think I’m going to try and dress her in buckskin skirts and get her on a horse the first day she arrives?”

  Edie chuckled. “No, but maybe the second or third day.”

  Mitch was thoughtful now. He had only spent five or six minutes with Celeste the day they had first met. She was beautiful, elegant, and sophisticated. Everything about her shouted wealth. When Edie and the kids had returned from the wedding a few months later, it was clear that it hadn’t been a good experience for them. Snubbed was the word Mitch had used after listening to Edie’s description, but Edie refused to complain. Her phrase—and she would never say anything more than this—was that they had definitely been “out of their element.”

  But Tina had fumed for weeks after their return and had told him that much of it had been horrible. It wasn’t so much Frank and Celeste. They had been totally caught up in the joy of the day. But Celeste’s family had been something else entirely. Tina described it like being hillbillies at the prince’s ball. During the wedding reception, they were seated at a table by themselves for over two hours, and hardly anyone spoke to them. It still rankled her, and Mitch decided that he’d better have a talk with Tina so she didn’t bring that up again when Frank was there.

  Seeing that Edie was watching him closely, Mitch declared, “Celeste Dickerson Westland is our daughter-in-law, and she’s coming to Monticello. I think we both know that wasn’t an
easy decision for her.”

  “I’m sure of that. I’m still reeling a little.”

  “So, I promise that I shall be on my best behavior.” He put his hand over hers. “And I’ll set the children down, and we’ll talk about what we can do to make this a positive experience for her. She is a member of our family now, and she needs to see what the Westlands are made of.”

  Tears welled up, and Edie squeezed his hand. “And that we accept her. We have to, Mitch. Or Frank will never come back.”

  Mitch nodded, knowing she was right. It was no surprise that Frank had fallen for Celeste, but it still amazed him a little that she had fallen for him. And he could imagine the ruckus it must have raised with her parents. “Have you told MJ and June yet? Or called Rena?”

  “No. I had just hung up when you came in.”

  “Then why don’t we have Rena and Rowland come down for dinner tomorrow or Wednesday? Afterwards, we’ll sit everyone down and talk this through with them.”

  “Yes,” Edie said eagerly. “I’ll call Rena right now and see if they can come tomorrow.” Mitch started to get up, but she pulled him back again. “Thank you, Mitch. We have to make this a wonderful experience for Celeste. We just have to.”

  December 15, 1923, 9:07 a.m.

  “That’s good,” Mitch called. “You put the pitchforks and shovels away, and I’ll wheel this out behind the corral.”

  “I can take it, Dad.” Frank leaned his pitchfork against one of the barn’s main pillars and started for the wheelbarrow that was now heaped to the top with wet horse manure.

  “Not on your life, son. Bad enough that I roped you into mucking out the stables while you’re on vacation. I’ll take it out.”

  “You didn’t rope me into it,” Frank said, not budging. “I volunteered, remember? Actually, though don’t quote me on this, I almost enjoyed it. I work in a world of abstracts, in the ‘theoretical stratosphere,’ as one of my professors likes to put it. It feels good to have a task where I know exactly what needs to be done and exactly how to do it and where I can see immediate and dramatic results.”