Mr. Washington stared blankly into the computer screen, apparently overwhelmed by the information he was still digesting. He pulled himself together and replied, “I see, Mr. Jenson. How horrific that our generation left the next with such an insurmountable problem. We knew the injustice of slavery but could not abolish it in our time without tearing our infant nation apart. We established a time when the trade would end and believed it would result in the eventual demise of slavery itself. I even wrote in my own will that upon my death, slaves under my direction must be set free. Please assure me they were.”
Shaken, Mr. Washington turned to Anders.
“We did. Did we not? We believed slavery would fade away once the trade was removed. How shameful that we failed, but you must understand we were of a just mind.”
For one of a handful of times in his life, Anders was at a loss for words as he stared at the first president. The others remained silent while the father of our country endured a sudden moral crisis right before their eyes. After a minute of solemn silence, a choked up Mr. Washington cleared his throat and spoke.
“Mr. Jefferson—pardon me—Mr. Jenson, you spoke of the president during this terrible war who would be assassinated. Please gentlemen, tell me about this extraordinary man.”
Murray, the historian, sipped his bottled water and moved toward the microphone. The Civil War discussion couldn’t wait.
“Abraham Lincoln was the sixteenth president of the United States. He was born to a poor family in the state of Kentucky, became a lawyer and was eventually elected president of the United States in 1860 as the Civil War loomed. We can fill in more details and get you materials to read when we get to DC.”
Mr. Washington responded that the man was indeed interesting.
“Benjamin Lincoln was a good man, was my second in command. He accepted the surrender of British Forces. Could they have been related?”
Murray answered that no one was quite sure but they likely were distant relations going back to Norfolk England through Massachusetts.
George peered in the sunken eyes and deep lines of the face on the five dollar bill, which Hahn had quietly handed him.
Murray reiterated that like the founders, Lincoln had been torn between abolishing slavery and the threat of the country being destroyed by war; ultimately, Lincoln knew that the country could not survive divided.
Murray felt his throat tighten and voice quiver. As he spoke, he thought about the horrors of slavery and the thousands of young men who were killed defending and opposing the terrible institution. He looked over at Todd sitting innocently next to his mother and momentarily felt a twinge of resentment that the problem of slavery, like so many today, was “kicked” to another generation to solve.
Murray regained his voice and sounded like the history teacher he was.
“After several failed attempts at compromise on the slavery and states’ rights issues, the south seceded from the Union in 1861. Lincoln would not allow the nation to break up, so when a southern force attacked the Union base at Fort Sumter, South Carolina in April 1861, the war began. Richmond was the capital of the Confederacy, and our Virginia was the site of many major battles during the war. Over half a million Americans died on both sides. Families were ripped apart and, like Tim said, it took decades for us to recover. But ultimately, the war solidified America as a nation.”
“My Lord. And what of Mr. Lincoln?” asked Mr. Washington.
Hahn spoke almost in a whisper. “Lincoln suffered terribly during those four long years. He did what he had to do to deliver the equality promised in the Declaration of Independence. That included committing thousands of young lives to a barbaric war. He preserved the Union and has been recognized with you and one or two others as the greatest of our forty-four presidents.
Vocalizing what he already deduced, he asked if President Lincoln was in fact assassinated.
It was young Todd Murray’s turn to enter the discussion and teach history. “Yes. Right after the war ended, he was shot while watching a play at Ford’s Theater in Washington DC. The assassin was named John Wilkes Booth. He agreed with the confederates.”
“I see,” responded Mr. Washington. “Thank you, Master Murray. Obviously, Mr. Lincoln is remembered and revered to the degree that he is still the subject of lessons in schools?”
“You got it,” replied Dottie.
“Washington, DC, has so many monuments and memorials to great Americans and events. There is a Washington Monument in the center of the city that I think is the tallest building in the city. There’s a Lincoln Memorial with a huge statue of Abe sitting in obvious contemplation. We need to bring you to these memorials so you can get a look for yourself!”
“And we will, Mrs. Murray,” interjected Anders through the computer screen as Jack gave his excited wife a wink and a thumbs up. In his mind, Anders had yielded to his counterparts long enough. “That is one of the purposes of this trip, to show General Washington the city and its monuments that bear his name. But we went off on a tangent there and we should get back to the timeline. We are through with the Civil War for now, is that correct?”
Mr. Washington wanted to hear more about Lincoln but stayed silent, respecting what the men were doing for him. It was not every day that one was asked to provide the history of the United States in a three hour drive. Plus, these gentlemen had rearranged their lives for him. So George made many mental notes, promising himself to come back to each topic once they were settled from their journey. He knew something that his companions did not; that time was not going to be an immediate restraint in pursuit of their ultimate goal.
The Industrial Revolution and Spanish American War were the next two topics touched upon. Hahn described the rise of the industrial infrastructure modeled on that of England, and followed with a very detailed description of the Spanish-American War and the legend of Teddy Roosevelt, which made Mr. Washington smile.
The whole group talked over each other in their description of the events of World War I and the rise of Communism. Small arguments arose over the facts. Murray noted that Mr. Washington, for the first time, demonstrated his authority and requested silence. “Gentlemen, I am forever in your debt for the information that continues to nourish my brain. But I ask that you respect each other and take turns speaking. I cannot comprehend everything if one is shouting over the other. Thank you.”
George Washington was an exceptionally quick study, absorbing a great deal of the information the team threw at him. The men around him were impressed at the ease at which he understood everything.
As the information continued to flow in his direction, Mr. Washington still took the time to glance out the window and admire the beauty of the Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland countryside. The sign on the side of the highway alerted traffic to the bridge ahead that crossed the Susquehanna River. “The Susquehanna River never looked so beautiful as it does from this magnificent bridge, spanning majestically over its soothing waters. Was the route to the West established through this river?”
Anders and Jenson both shook their heads at the same time and explained that despite what was believed during Mr. Washington’s time, there was no single waterway leading to the continent’s west coast.
The men enjoyed talking American history, learning from each other while trying to top one another with their knowledge.
Each took a turn providing a high level narrative of the events of the twentieth century—the advent of the Income Tax and Women’s rights, the Roaring 20’s and The Great Depression. The rise of Adolf Hitler, Pearl Harbor, and WWII dominated the second full hour of the drive. This was closely followed by depictions of FDR and his New Deal, the Korean and Cold War, and technological advances such as television, radio, and cell phones.
JFK, Vietnam, LBJ, and the Great Society were described impressively by Tim Jenson. Hahn bridged the sixties and seventies by describing the space race, and the election and subsequent resignation of President Nixon over a scandal called Watergate
, which became part of the American lexicon.
George began to yawn and fidget, so Jenson glossed over the Carter years to the delight of the assembled groups of both vehicles. He talked about Iran, the hostages, and the troubles that rose about in the Middle East. This was followed by a group discussion about President Reagan. They finished their chronological history of the USA by verbalizing the pros and cons of the Bush and Clinton years, wrapping up with a quick discussion of the last three and a half years under the current Commander-in-Chief.
Hahn described in personal detail the events of 9/11/01, which seemed to shake Mr. Washington to his core. He was sensitive to criticism in his day, wondering in his writings of how men could use their words as weapons to injure other men. Hearing of giant metal birds used as projectiles to kill Americans in the great city of New York was just too much to comprehend. He asked that they stop the conversation at that point and resume when they reached their destination. Sensing an air of uneasiness, the group agreed and responded with an awkward silence.
“It appears from the sound emanating from your GPS device that we will not be at our destination for at least thirty minutes,” Mr. Washington said. “Please forgive my vulgarity Mrs. Murray, but might this limo contain an outhouse? Or perhaps there would be one at an eatery or tavern along the highway that might suffice?”
Todd Murray jumped in, “Yeah ma, I gotta pee.”
As Mr. Washington let out a hearty laugh, Anders and Jenson asked their drivers to stop at the next rest stop, Chesapeake House, which was only four miles ahead.
As the limo and van stopped in front of the Roy Rogers sign at the Chesapeake House rest stop, Anders and Jenson jumped out first to talk. They walked around to the far side of the van in hope of not being noticed by curious travelers as Jack tended to his family.
“This may be a bit tricky,” Anders began. “It’s bad enough when I, the Head Honcho of Talk Radio, have to pee in crowds like this. But bringing a three hundred year old ex president, whose face is on every dollar bill in the place, to a urinal may be complicated. Here’s what we gotta do.”
Anders mapped out a strategy as if he was preparing for battle. He suggested that the group break up into smaller separate groups as to not draw attention. Anders would put on his big Navy baseball cap and sunglasses and walk alone into the rest stop and directly to the men’s room. He explained that by going solo, if he were to be recognized, it would turn focus toward him and away from the president. He could then secure a stall and wait for George. He asked that Hahn and Jenson escort Mr. Washington straight to the bathroom while the rest of the group goes about their business. Dottie volunteered the Murrays to get lunch for the group and bring it back to the cars. Then, Anders made sure everybody was ready.
“I wasn’t even thinking about that but now that you’ve said it, I’m pretty hungry myself. Okay, this is what we do. Get the kid’s Villanova hat and make sure Mr. Big wears it in. You ready? Let’s roll.”
Both men went into their respective vehicles and shared the game plan with the team. Anders jumped out of the limousine with cap and glasses in place and started toward the door under the Roy Rogers sign. Tim walked to the limo and handed the hat to Mr. Washington, instructing him to place it on his head with the brim adjusted just above his eyes. The Murrays started toward the food court as Anders disappeared into the building, undetected.
As the others approached the door, Hahn and Jenson escorted Mr. Washington out of the car and started their walk to the men’s room.
Murray was a bit concerned about his expense on this “all expense paid” weekend in Philly. Though Hahn paid for the Armani, Jack had already put several hundred dollars on his credit card for Mr. Washington’s clothes. Now, he, Dottie, and Todd had offered to buy lunch for this group of strangers. Murray wasn’t cheap but he was no currency trader or famous talk show host. He was a high school teacher and Dottie was a stay-at-home mom who loved to spend money on entertaining friends.
He didn’t say anything to Dottie, especially in front of Todd, but Jack started to feel like a fool as if these guys were taking advantage of him. Intellectually, he thought he knew better but he was not sure of anything anymore.
As they returned to the cars with hamburgers, fries, coffee and cokes, Jack saw the excitement in Dottie’s eyes. Ironically, she was having a great time. She seemed comfortable in the situation, gregariously talking with Tim and George as if they were neighbors. But that was always her way. Her cheery disposition was sometimes mistaken for flirtation. Even Todd felt important, having been part of the discussion himself.
Murray thought to himself that it was he who was having the reservations. To avoid conflict, he kept quiet, jumped back in the van with the food and waited for the others to return.
Mr. Washington’s gait fell in line with the other two men as they found themselves breezing past strangers as they entered the restroom. Still in disguise, Anders drew a few stares from the men in the bathroom as he waved his colleagues to the far stall. Jenson mentioned under his breath that it was a good thing Josh had chosen a handicapped stall. Jenson and Mr. Washington entered the oversized stall as Hahn stood guard at the urinal closest to the stall door. Anders turned to the two men in an uncomfortably close proximity and asked a question that he never imagined he would be asking twenty four hours earlier.
“Ok George, you can stand here or sit down. Depends on what you need to do.”
“I will stand.”
“Thank God,” replied Jenson.
“Just one question, gentlemen.”
“Yes?” answered Anders, warily.
“Where does it all go?”
Unable to contain himself with the madness of the situation, Anders replied, “I think General, it may go to Washington DC.”
“I see. Just as I feared.”
Jenson could not help but laugh to himself at the absurd exchange taking place between Anders and Mr. Washington. He and Anders looked at each other as if to ask what they were doing here. Jenson whispered that he had not been in a stall with another man since he was four, reiterating that the whole scene was too weird for him. So, he exited the stall with Anders in tow. Both men needed to take care of business themselves and were confident that the first president could handle the rest himself.
Fortunately, Mr. Washington completed his business as a proper eighteenth century gentleman would. He exited the stall and Anders lead him to the sink to wash his hands.
Mr. Washington and his men were pleased at the sight of the late lunch as they got back to the cars. They reached for the burgers as Mrs. Murray waited on the first president.
Mr. Washington climbed into one of the captain’s chairs in the back of the van, keeping his promise to spend time with all, even if the last leg of the trip would last only another thirty minutes. He quickly got the hang of eating without proper silverware and even savored the newly found finger food. Much to Jack’s amusement, he promptly downed the burgers and fries. Mr. Washington did not have a taste for the soda but thoroughly enjoyed the steaming hot black coffee that Murray suggested they buy.
Keaton gave a wave to his counterpart in the limousine, and both vehicles turned out of the parking lot to finish the last thirty miles of their trip.
Even though connected by internet through the Skype satellite connection, the occupants of both vehicles were unusually quiet, as if they had exhausted all of their energy during the three hour historical synopsis. After fifteen minutes, Mr. Washington, taking another sip of his coffee, broke the silence.
“Please forgive my self-absorption and selfishness, but I never asked you about yourselves. I would ask that you tell me a little about your backgrounds and who you are, including the Murray family. I have an idea of the makeup of each of you but I would like to hear from you, in your own words. You individuals have been so generous with your valuable time, fine people who have welcomed me into their homes and automobiles. Mr. Jenson, why don’t you begin?”
Jenson was humbled
as Mr. Washington listened intently to him describe his upbringing which, like Mr. Washington, took place in rural Virginia. He began his account in Albemarle County, a pastoral area in which young Tim lived in a fantasy world of books and daydreams. He portrayed a community where friends, neighbors, and family provided a great support network and encouraged a young boy to chase his dreams. He was about to continue when interrupted by a loud shriek.
“There it is. There’s the Washington Monument!” Todd Murray’s outburst resulted in attention being directed away from Jenson and toward the right side of the car. All eyes in both the van and limousine were now affixed upward in a southwest direction. Jack Murray managed a smile and glanced at Mr. Washington. “Fitting, wouldn’t you say, Mr. President?”
Mr. Washington looked in his direction and responded with a nod and a wide grin.
Chapter 11
Mr. President, welcome home,” came the voice of Anders through the van’s Skype connection as both vehicles made their way down New York Avenue.
“Why don’t we take a quick drive around and show Mr. Washington the city he helped design? Then we’ll head over to the Willard Hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue, check in, and wash up for dinner. Hope you all don’t mind, but while we were at Faulk’s house, my assistant arranged for accommodations here in Washington. I’ve stayed at the Willard a number of times and I think everybody will find it comfortable.”
“Hey Jenson, I even got you and the Murrays the Jefferson suite. Its 3,000 square feet; probably bigger than most houses and maybe more expensive.”
Anders made sure everyone knew he also booked dinner in an exclusive private dining room of Café Du Parc in the hotel.
Murray politely nodded thank you and noticed Hahn roll his eyes through the computer screen. Anders was friendly, generous, intelligent, and politically brilliant, but at times a pushy and bossy windbag. Jack knew the type, and although Anders could be condescending and abrasive, he felt he was a good guy and certainly an ally worth fostering. Jack hoped his young new confidant thought the same, but could not be completely sure.
The New Founders Page 10
