“A different Jackson? Wow, what are the chances...” David responded, still examining the money.
“Apparently pretty good, I'd say,” Dr. Morgan replied.
David studied the bill for a moment, then placed it on the bed next to him. He stared at Dr. Morgan for a second or two, formulating his next question.
“I have a question for you, Phin,” David asked.
“Shoot,” Dr. Morgan replied.
“Well, I stepped through the time portal and landed back in 1862. In the 1880s, Doc compiled this package and sent it along in time with his relatives because he figured one of you would save me when I reappeared in the future. I understand the whole philosophy behind that plan your family followed except for one detail. When 2005 came along and I was getting ready to enter that elevator, why didn't you just stop me from going in the first place?” David questioned.
“What, and spoil all the fun?” Dr. Morgan joked. “Seriously though, our family struggled with this very question. In the end, it was decided not to interfere with the natural order of things. To be perfectly honest with you, we weren't too sure if you were even going to exist after you left 1863. You changed the future and we really didn't know if that change was going to prevent your parents from meeting, or you attending medical school, or even you visiting the time portal at the precise moment it opened up.”
“But I did show up and I did visit the time portal. Couldn’t you just have been waiting at the elevator to stop me from entering after that young girl died?” David asked.
“David, the truth of the matter is my family, down through the century, decided it would be best for humanity if we just let you enter that time portal. You single-handedly changed the length and outcome of the Civil War. By shortening it by two years, you saved tens of thousands of lives … possibly even hundreds of thousands. Your injury, while painful and tragic, was a small price to pay in comparison to the unimaginable death and suffering it saved.”
“Doc, I don’t have to imagine it. I was there, and you’re right. I would have done the same thing in your position. I spent a year and a half trying to prevent death and suffering. Knowing what I know now, a bullet wound for a shortened war is an easy decision to make.”
“You made the noblest of trades, David,” Dr. Morgan replied.
As Dr. Morgan spoke, David winced a bit and laid back against the gurney. Seeing his pain, Dr. Morgan said softly, “David, I'm sure you have a million questions for me, but I can see you’re in need of some rest. Why don't I lower the backrest and you get some sleep?”
Dr. Morgan pushed a button on bed panel and activated the recline function. As he did, he added, “Besides, you are quite the national sensation right now. You're going to need your rest.”
“The press?” David blurted out in shock.
“Oh yeah, and not just the press either. You've got Civil War buffs as well as the press lined up in the parking lot, waiting to get a glimpse of you. Photos of you during the war are skyrocketing on eBay. Washington is already setting up to hold a national celebration with you as the guest of honor. I even heard on the news that there is speculation on whether they have to pay you for active duty as a Brigadier General, since you were never discharged from service. As they see it right now, you’re still actively employed in the US Army. Can you believe it?” Dr. Morgan said, his voice showing greater excitement with each new revelation.
“Almost seems worth getting shot in the back with a friggin' cannon,” David joked. He laid back and closed his eyes, then said, “So, can I have my old job back?”
“David, when the dust settles, I'll be asking you for a job,” Dr. Morgan replied with a smile.
---- ---- ---- ---- ----
The front lawn of the White House was charged with energy. Even before the ceremony started, cameras flashed in continual repetition as the press, and civilians alike, recorded history in the making. As the throngs of humanity lined the perimeter of federal land, security inside the premises raced to make final arrangements for the President of the United States, Barrack Obama.
David stood in front of a portrait of Ulysses S. Grant and studied his features. Slowly moving through the hall, he stopped at a glass case that housed unique artifacts from past presidents. Seeing his reflection in the glass, he fixed his buttons and straightened his hat, ensuring he looked presentable in his Civil War Brigadier General's uniform, which had been carefully cleaned and pressed for the occasion.
As he examined his appearance once more, he noticed another reflection in the glass behind him.
“Looking good, David,” Dr. Morgan said, standing behind David now.
“Is anything out of place? God, I'm so nervous,” David replied instantly.
“You’ll do fine, David. Just relax. Right now, you could do no wrong. Hell, you could fart on stage and people would run to collect it,” Dr. Morgan joked.
“By the way, I just wanted to thank you for understanding about the letter. I just didn't think there was any better way to handle it,” David said, apologetically.
“At first, David, I thought to myself, 'I'm going to kill him', but after thinking about it, I had to agree. Your idea is wonderful,” Dr. Morgan replied.
David looked into Dr. Morgan's eyes provokingly and asked, “You nervous?”
“I've changed out my shorts three times already,” Dr. Morgan replied.
David laughed a moment, not so much at the doctor's response but more at the irony that the last time he heard someone use that response, it was Dr. Jeb Morgan who used it, back in 1863.
Suddenly, the two heard trumpets sound and a band begin to play 'Hail to the Chief'. From around a corner, Rahm Emanuel, the President’s chief of staff, came charging to their side and requested their presence near the doors to the front lawn. Moments later, they stood and listened to the final sentences from President Obama's eloquent introduction.
“... and so, it is my greatest honor and privilege that I present to you Brigadier General Dr. David Warner,” President Obama announced with enthusiasm.
As President Obama turned to greet David, he extended his hand. David quickly walked to the waiting President and shook his hand as the President then pulled David in close for a sincere hug. Standing back, he offered David the elaborately decorated podium.
David stood at the podium and waited as the thousands of onlookers cheered wildly, creating too much noise for David to begin. As the noise finally died a bit, he cleared his throat and started.
“My friends, thank you for your interest in my wellbeing. It is an honor, and I am quite humbled to be standing before you here, accepting such praise and glory by such wonderful people. But unfortunately, I am not the one who deserves your respect and attention. Four years ago, I stepped into that time portal and was sent back to the year 1862. It would not be an understatement if I told you I was not a willing traveler, to say the least. When I stepped forward into 1862, I was not some brave hero that volunteered to save the world. I was not a military genius that offered my services to a losing cause. I was just an ordinary man who stepped in the wrong direction and was caught in a violent time without a door to return through.” David said, fidgeting a bit with nervousness.
David straightened his hat to shade his eyes from the sun and continued, “My first few minutes in that new world were the scariest of my life. Prior to that event, the closest I had come to death was riding the subway after 11pm. With one small, innocent step, I was instantly propelled into a desperate, primitive world without the skills to survive. If it were not for the kind and selfless acts of one man, I would most assuredly not be standing here today. I was saved by a genuine hero. He is the man who you should be celebrating here today. He is the man responsible for carrying a torch of my return. Nothing can be said of me that should not include this hero's name, and that hero is Dr. Jebadiah Morgan.
“What can be said about a man of such strength and unselfish loyalty? From the minute I arrived, Doc served as a second father to me, guid
ing me with patience and respect. He watched over me and ensured my safety at all times. His intelligence and common sense were amazing, as he quickly learned and practiced advanced medical techniques. To Doc, all men were equal and he treated the wounded enemy just as he treated our own men: with understanding and compassion.”
David took a small drink of water, then continued, “I'll never forget the look on Doc's face when I told him I was a time traveler. Even though he was skeptical, he never abandoned his loyalty. With patience and understanding, he allowed me to prove to him my authenticity. When he realized I was not of his time, he was keenly aware of my lack of skills needed for survival. He never tired as he spent hours with me, teaching me to shoot various weapons with great accuracy, ride horses, hunt for food, mend my clothes, command troops effectively with honor and respect. Doc gave me the courage to fight in battle when I was on the verge of retreat.
“If these traits and qualities were not great enough, this amazing man taught me the meaning of duty, honor and loyalty to my fellow man, as a way of life. I owe this man so much. I hope this tribute in some small way helps to repay my thanks for his friendship.
“Upon my return home, Doc gathered my belongings, as well as other articles relating to our time together. I guess it was his way of saying hello to me after he was gone. His plan instructed his descendants to pass the contents of the box along from descendant to descendant, until one was able to deliver them to me. As I awoke from my surgery, just as Doc had intended, one of his descendants delivered to me the package. As we went through the contents, I found a letter Doc had written to me.
“By now, you all have probably figured out that Doc was the greatest friend of my life, and now, during this great ceremony, I believe it would be befitting if I had another great friend of mine, Dr. Phineas Morgan, great-great-grandson to Doc Jebidiah Morgan, read aloud to you the letter that was passed down through generations as a message to me. You people here today will be listening to its contents for the first time as I will be. Please welcome my friend Phineas.”
To the surprise of all, David stepped aside and allowed Dr. Morgan to step forward and accept the honor. As Dr. Morgan stepped from behind a secret service man and up to the podium, cameras flashed wildly as David handed Dr. Morgan the letter. With a proud smile, he accepted it and gave David a tremendous hug in thanks.
“Thank you, David. This is truly an honor for the Morgan family,” Dr. Morgan started. “Today, with this letter, marks a conclusion to a story that stretches over one hundred and forty-six years. For years, my family has agonized over the contents of this letter. Sealed in wax, we could only speculate on its message. Pictures, artifacts and other data have been collected by my family for generations, but none captured our attention more than this letter. If you will indulge me, I will now begin.”
David watched as Dr. Morgan carefully broke the seal and opened the delicate letter. He laid it on the podium and softly pressed down on the folds to help keep it open. Satisfied with the results, he began:
“My Sincerest Greetings, David,
If you are reading this letter, then you have completed your journey and are, hopefully, safe in your new world. In what physical condition you arrived, I can only speculate, but my prayers are with you for an accelerated convalescence.
The details surrounding your departure have for years caused me great grief and sorrow. I have contemplated this dilemma from the moment I learned of your assault, and have worked to overcome your tragedy by implementing a plan of preparedness and expeditious action. If my calculations are correct, you are now in the capable hands of my descendants.
Lad, the end of my life has come. I can barely see the sun’s last rays of life that hold me to this world. It is at this moment, the gravest of moments, that one’s reflections are the most meaningful. My life, as any life, has had its share of sadness and failure, and I have reconciled my conscience with these last demons. The burden was not too heavy, thankfully.
With the hard work behind me, I am now basking in those reflections that have given me the greatest satisfaction and reward. Of these would be my association with you, lad. I would be remiss if I did not inform you of my melancholy prior to your arrival. The hard life spent away from family, waging war against violent savages and southern combatants, as well as the horrors that resulted when engaged in medicine, can wear on a man’s soul, and I was not immune to their effects. I suffered internally from lack of purpose and loneliness.
With your auspicious arrival, marked the dawn of a new beginning for me. Your first days were characterized by fear and insecurity. I remember it in your eyes as you struggled to find your footing, and I remember your humble gratitude as you overcame diversity. Each day, we discussed the tools of daily living in this foreign period, and each day you practiced and advanced your skill. As we worked together to help each other, our friendship grew, filling a hole that was dug from years of solitude.
Shortly after your arrival, your skills as a brilliant surgeon became apparent, and you selflessly and tirelessly devoted long hours to my education. As the teacher became the student, my intellect was challenged and rewarded as you guided me through the extraordinary advancements in medicine.
Our long marches in the saddle, the nights engaged in topics of history, medicine and battle tactic, as well as discussing the common topics of the day, created a bond between us that was stronger than time itself, as evidenced by this very word.
As I helped you with the simple task of surviving, you helped me the more complex task of living. You came out of nowhere and left an indelible mark. Each day brought new challenges, infused new vigor, created meaning and depth beyond my expectation.
After your departure, I felt the loss of a loved one. I missed your daily presence, and it took quite a while to get used to your absence, but instead of mourning your leaving, I celebrated your existence. My last twenty years were characterized by the time spent with family and friends, time that became the envy of those who knew me. Life as a doctor after the war became as thrilling as any endeavor I've encountered, as I educated others as you had educated me.
David, I wish I were more eloquent and could convey to you my feelings in a simpler message instead of one filled with convolution and long-winded tangents. What can I say to a man who was the single greatest influence of my life? David, friend, comrade, I am eternally grateful of our short time together. You were kind and generous with your friendship, and if we should meet in Heaven, I would be honored to address you as my son.
Godspeed to you, David. It was an honor to know you.
Sincerely,
Doc”
A dead quiet came over the people as they stood and digested the emotional goodbye between two friends. The only sound to be heard was the light breeze that blew the winter’s wind.
Dr. Morgan had fought to hold back his emotions as he read the letter. Now that he was done, he could contain himself no longer. Reaching into his pocket for a Kleenex, he stepped back from the podium and caught the first of many tears.
David's hands were held to his face, catching his tears as he felt the light touch of someone's hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw the saddened eyes of President Obama staring at him in sympathy.
“David, you don't have to say anything else. The people will understand,” President Obama said, as he motioned for David to follow him off the stage.
“No, sir,” David retorted instantly. “I want to say one more thing.”
“Please do,” President Obama said, his hand extended, motioning to the podium.
David stood next to his friend, Dr. Morgan, and adjusted the microphone. He surveyed the crowd once more and tried to speak, but emotions choked back his words.
Finally, David raised his eyes to Heaven and in a low, soft tone, said, “Doc, I miss you. Save me a spot by the fire.”
As the volume of the crowd ascended to a loud, cacophonous roar, President Obama carefully stood between the two weeping men and carefully walke
d them out of sight, the ceremony now appropriately cut short.
As they made their way into the oval office, President Obama offered the two men a seat. Immediately, he began to speak.
“David, I just wanted to personally thank you for your bravery at Gettysburg. I was told by historians that if you hadn't done what you did there with Custer and turned that battle, we might have lost the war. I am here today, the first black President of the United States, because of your actions. I can't thank you enough,” President Obama said with sincerity in his voice.
“Wow, I wasn't expecting that,” David said with surprise. “You're welcome, although I feel silly accepting responsibility for your presidency.”
“You're just being modest, David,” President Obama replied.
A quiet fell over the room. Finally, President Obama started again, “David, if at some point in the future you feel up to it, I have a bunch of scientists chomping at the bit, waiting to examine that time machine with you. I've already instructed it to be preserved for future analysis. Is that something you would feel comfortable with?” President Obama asked.
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