Treasure in a Tin Box (Wall of Silence Book 1)

by Dorey Whittaker

  Van picked it up and turned it over and over in his hand before answering, “When we were taken captive, the first thing they did was strip us of our backpacks and guns. They even took off our helmets and pulled out all of the pictures our boys had tucked inside of them. It wasn’t enough that they took them from us, they set them on fire and made us watch them burn. I can’t tell you why, but that morning I had taken my Bible out of my backpack—something I had not done in a year. I read a verse or two and put it into my thigh pocket instead of my backpack. That pocket was used to hold our flip-pads and pencils. We would write down our coordinates or some instructions we needed to remember. That morning our radio operator had used the last page of his flip pad, so I had handed him mine. It was more important for him to have one than for me to have one. My pocket was open, and I happened to slip my Bible into my pocket. Two hours later we were surrounded, stripped of everything, but no one checked my pocket. Over that year I had lost a lot of weight, and my pants were really baggy. They did not notice I had anything in that pocket.”

  Van smiled as he lovingly slapped his hand on the Bible. Turning to his dad, Van said, “Dad, I know you are worried about the horrors of war that I saw, but I would rather tell you a different story. You know, Dad, when we arrived at the permanent camp, none of us had a stick of anything from home. At first, I kept my Bible a secret, fearing the guards would find out I had it. After about a month, I could see the tension building in everyone. They were so homesick, we spent hours talking about baseball, or different cities the prisoners had visited—anything that would remind us of home.

  “Finally, one day I showed my Bible to the guys in my tent. You should have seen their eyes. I passed it around and let each one look up a verse they were familiar with. It was great to hear those guys reading the Bible.”

  Sulley took the Bible from Van and studied it. “Is that why it is so worn out?”

  “Kind of, Dad,” Van confessed. “You see, when I first arrived in the Philippines, I never took it out of the backpack. I thought I was too busy to read it. From the very beginning, I saw a lot of killing. The more killings I saw, the less I wanted to read that book. I remember thinking that the whole world was going to hell—and it deserved to. I didn’t care about anything but staying alive. It hurt too much to care about anyone. I had never felt so cold and dead in my whole life, and even though I was in a place where I was forced to kill or be killed, taking another person’s life changes you.”

  Looking straight into his father’s eyes, Van confessed, “Daddy, I don’t think I lost my faith out there. The truth is, Daddy, I don’t think I really left here with faith.”

  Both Van and I saw Sulley’s body stiffen at this admission. “Daddy, please hear me out. I was not on the battlefield two days before I realized I was all alone out there. I had loved my life here in Atlanta. No child ever felt more loved than I did. I was cared for, protected, encouraged to follow my faith, and I had no reason to question it, so I didn’t. But out on that battlefield, seeing the very worst of mankind, I began questioning everything, and I found I had no answers. For one whole year, I left this Bible in my backpack because I thought it was worthless to me.

  “Daddy, I got so hard. When you realize that God’s love is not in you, nothing is left to soften the harsh reality of war. I felt like I had been lied to. Life was worse than you told me it was. Simple answers would no longer work for me. I didn’t even want my buddies to call me Van anymore. Van no longer existed, so I told them to start calling me Sullivan. Van was that gentle giant of a boy who behaved like his daddy, and I wasn’t that person any longer. The Marine who walked into that POW camp had turned into Sullivan Dunbar. It took me over a month to remove that Bible from my thigh pocket. I was convinced that it just represented home to me. It took a terrible hunger for a taste of home for me to open it up and read it, but when I did, Daddy, all my memories of home came flooding back to me. As I read it, I could actually remember the sound of your voice reading those verses to me as a little kid, and the memory brought great comfort to me. But Daddy, as I read it, I realized that I had never made it mine. It was always your Bible, so I began to pray and ask God to make it mine. I did not want to be in that terrible place all alone anymore; oh, not the camp, but in that hardened place where God does not exist.”

  Sulley’s shoulders quivered as he remembered all those cold letters he had received from his boy. “I knew you were in trouble, Van. I could see the hard-heartedness in your letters, and I prayed for you.”

  “Daddy,” Van cried, “While reading this Bible, I realized that I had not been lied to, I just had not accepted it for myself. I had accepted your faith, but I had not yet made it my faith. Daddy, I made it my faith while in that POW camp.”

  Van smiled at me and said, “Uncle Toby, I am not the only Marine who found his faith in that camp. I started passing it around so others could remember that there was something bigger than themselves out there, and that God’s love was real. In all those twenty-two months, not one of our boys gave it away. Not all of them appreciated it, but they were all thankful we had it. I think, for some, it was just that we were getting something over on the guards. But for many of us, it was our blessed assurance that the whole world was not going to hell, that God was there with us, and His Word was a reminder that we had not been forgotten. Many a man read this Bible and cried out to God for help and strength during those terrible days in the camp.”

  Sulley smiled when he heard how his son talked about that blessed assurance. He couldn’t wait to have Whippoorwill tell her son all about Ms. Pearl’s story and how his momma had sung that very song every day while her boy was in that terrible camp.

  SECTION ELEVEN

  TOBIAS:

  A Legacy of Integrity

  1945-1954

  38. Honoring a Great Lady

  39. Nothing is as it Was Before

  CHAPTER 38

  Honoring a Great Lady

  TOBIAS TRIED TO shake off the emotions that always came from remembering how Auntie Pearl’s life had, yet again, helped those he loved get through difficult times. The conductor had already come through the car several minutes earlier, warning everyone to begin gathering up their belongings, but Tobias had ignored him because he wanted to finish his memory.

  Noticing that Tobias was no longer deep in thought, Ruth leaned over and quietly suggested, “Tobias, we will be pulling into the station in about ten minutes. Maybe you should visit the water closet and then put on your suit coat. When we get off the train, we will be busy looking for our driver, and we don’t know how long the car ride might be. I’ve already taken care of myself, so I will stay with our things.”

  Tobias noticed the excitement in Ruth’s voice. She had never been outside of the state of Georgia, and here we were getting ready to drive through Washington, D.C. He quickly made his way to the line that had formed, and waited his turn, thinking, “This train ride has been a real blessing to me. Being able to spend all day going over all my family history and remembering all of the great lessons I have learned makes my heart swell with thankfulness.”

  As Tobias returned to his seat, three long whistle blows indicated that they were pulling into Union Station. A few minutes later, the conductor swung open the door, pulled the big lever that allowed the stairs to fold out of the floor and slam down, locking them into place. Tobias quickly pulled down their suitcase and his tin box and followed Ruth to the open door.

  It was one in the morning when they climbed the wide set of stairs that delivered them up to the Union Station rotunda. It was pitch-black outside, and the yellowish glow of the lights in the rotunda gave the place an eerie feeling. “Tobias, just imagine how many important people have walked through this rotunda.”

  Tobias just smiled. Ruth had never been very impressed with titles or positions, but tonight, the idea of walking the same floors as people about whom she had read her whole life, was overwhelming her. “Ruth, I think we are supposed to walk out the northeast
exit and just beyond Columbus Circle, we should find our driver waiting for us on Massachusetts Avenue.”

  Even though it was late, knowing this was their first trip to the Capitol, the driver decided to take them up Constitution Avenue so they could get a glimpse of the White House and the Washington Monument. Both Tobias and Ruth were quiet as they made their way through the city, crossed a bridge and traveled up to Fairmount Heights. The driver pulled up in front of a row house, sandwiched in the very middle of a set of five. All of the lights were on, and as they climbed out of the car, a woman came out the front door and made her way down the steep steps to greet them. “I am so glad you made it safe and sound, Brother Bascom. My name is Sister Eugenia Wilcox Allen. My husband wanted to stay up to greet you, but since he is going to be one of the first speakers at the event tomorrow, I told him you would forgive him. He isn’t as young as he once was and cannot burn the candle at both ends—like you young ones can.”

  “He has nothing to apologize for, Sister Eugenia. Ruth and I are so grateful to you both for opening up your home to us.”

  Taking Tobias’s arm, Sister Eugenia began leading them back up the stairs while her son followed with the suitcase. “Let’s get you both out of the damp night air. Besides, at night our voices carry, and I don’t want a visit from a disgruntled neighbor tomorrow morning.” Then with a broad smile, she added, “Especially tomorrow morning.”

  No sooner were they inside the front door when a voice bellowed from the back hallway, “Is that you, Tobias? I’ve been resting, but I could not go to sleep until I knew you were here safe and sound.” Then with an endearing chuckle, he added, “I’d come out and greet you, but I am in my nightclothes, so I will see you at breakfast. Goodnight.”

  Sister Eugenia smiled, “That was my husband, the Right Reverend Josiah Allen. Mind you, he is very old school. Most of the younger pastors like to be called ‘Bishop’ these days. Josiah worked so hard earning his degree and having the title, ‘Right Reverend,’ bestowed upon him means the world to him. He will never give it up.”

  “We look forward to meeting him tomorrow morning, Sister Eugenia,” Ruth responded. Then removing a large container from her grip and handing it over to her hostess, Ruth added, “I hope you don’t mind, but I was taught never to come empty-handed. Maybe you could add these treats to the breakfast table tomorrow.”

  With their hostess gifts delivered, Tobias and Ruth quickly unpacked and dropped into bed. Tobias had intended to go over his speech one more time, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

  The excitement in the house woke Ruth very early the next morning. She slipped out of bed and quickly got dressed and made her way to the kitchen where she caught the Right Reverend Josiah Allen sneaking a bite of her coffee cake. “Oh, my goodness, Mrs. Bascom, did you bake these treats?”

  “Why, yes sir, I did. Glad you like them,” Ruth responded with a bright smile.

  After swallowing the last stolen bite, he said, “My wife says that Tobias is tall and lean. Just how does one accomplish that with a wife that can bake like this? My wife is forever telling me I cannot eat this or that because it all sits right here,” as he rubbed his satisfied tummy.

  “I am sure it will catch up with him, Rev. Allen,” Ruth teased, “but I love baking for him, and he loves to eat, so we are a good fit.”

  Just then Tobias walked into the kitchen and introduced himself. “Good morning, Rev. Allen. I understand that you will be one of the speakers today. I cannot tell you how nervous I am to speak in front of all of you. I just wish that my Great-Aunt Pearl could have lived to see this day.”

  Quickly dusting the crumbs off of his dress shirt, Reverend Allen added, “Many of us have worked hard to get this law changed. It has been a long battle and we are excited to celebrate, but the war has not yet been won. There is much, much more to do before we see the end of separate but equal, but I do not dare get on that horse this morning, or we will all be late. We need to get you some breakfast and get on the road by 10:30. We need to be in the city and at our table by 11:30 so the celebration can be call to order by noon. After lunch has been served and the singers have performed, we will start the program promptly at one o’clock.”

  The next three hours became a blur. Tobias tried to go over his speech, but someone was always walking up to introduce himself. Names and faces began to merge, so Tobias leaned over to Ruth and whispered, “Can you help me keep track of names? These people have not even finished introducing themselves, and I can’t remember their names.”

  “Just smile, Tobias,” Ruth advised, “you are more nervous than I have ever seen you. Just remember why you are here. Ms. Pearl has earned this honor, and you are simply her representative.”

  Suddenly they heard a commotion behind them, and they both turned around to see Thurgood Marshall entering the dining hall. “That is a name you will remember,” chuckled Ruth.

  A chime was sounded, instructing everyone to take his seat, and the luncheon was served. Tobias had no intention of eating anything. His nerves would not allow anything to go down or stay down. He moved the lunch around his plate, feigning interest in the food, but nothing was brought up to his mouth. He had visions of choking on something and bringing the whole room’s attention to himself. He was relieved when the servers cleared away the dishes, and he tried to enjoy the musical entertainment, but his mind kept trying to go over his talk. He was certain he would get up to the podium and go blank. His hands began to perspire, and the server had taken away his napkin. He slipped his hands below the table and under the tablecloth. He rubbed his hands on his trousers and then laid them flat on his thighs in order to stop their shaking. They remained there during the first five speakers. He knew he was number six in a panel of eight speakers. The event would conclude with Thurgood Marshall. Tobias was certain he would enjoy the others once his task was completed.

  As speaker number five was drawing his talk to a close, Tobias pulled his speech out of his coat pocket and unfolded it just as he heard his name being announced. The master of ceremonies did a fine introduction, focusing on Ms. Pearl instead of him. As he listened and looked around, he realized how much these people already admired his Great-Aunt Pearl, and his stomach settled down; a quiet calm overtook him. He did not have to impress these people because Pearl’s life had already done so.

  As he walked up to the podium, he thought about how hard he had struggled to write his speech, not knowing what to include and what to leave out. Tobias laid his speech on the podium and smiled at the audience. After issuing his obligatory acknowledgments, he was ready.

  Today we are joyfully celebrating the fine work of Mr. Thurgood Marshall, Esquire. His huge victory over the “Separate but Equal” laws of this country are monumental and have been covered by five wonderful speakers today. That law has ruled the educational system of this country for many years.

  As part of this celebration, the lifelong work of my great-aunt, Ms. Pearl Bascom Lagolaei, is also being honored. Since I am the last surviving member of Ms. Pearl’s family, I have been asked to speak on her behalf.

  While pondering what I should say today, I realized that, since I am speaking on her behalf, I should tell you what Ms. Pearl would say if she were here. Ms. Pearl was nothing, if not direct and to the point, on all topics of education.

  To understand her point of view, one must understand what she overcame in order to hold that point of view. When I was asked to represent Aunt Pearl, I knew what she would have said, “No, Tobias, you represent our whole family—not just me.” Since this would have been her direction, this is what I have decided to do.

  I am only the second generation of my family born into freedom, and the last surviving member of this proud family. I stand here representing the whole Bascom family. My great-grandmother, Hannah, was born into slavery in the year 1824. She lived her entire life, all forty-one years of it, as a slave on the Stewart Plantation, just outside of Atlanta, Georgia. Sadly, she did not live to see free
dom, but her three children did. In 1865, my grandfather Samuel and his two sisters, Pearl and Ruby, were emancipated at the end of the Civil War. Grandpa was twenty, and the sisters were sixteen.

  The Emancipation Proclamation had been signed into law in 1863. Laws on the books do not always translate into daily reality. It took two additional years of war and tremendous fear before my grandfather and his sisters were actually emancipated; today, many of us believe we are still waiting for the full effect of that law to be carried out.

  This past May 17, 1954, segregation in schools was made illegal in this country, but just as with the Emancipation Proclamation law, it will take some time and hard work before that law becomes a reality to our people.

  Ms. Pearl was convinced that the laws had to be changed before black children could be fully educated. Thanks to people of vision like Thurgood Marshall, that work has been accomplished. Now, however, the more difficult work stands in front of us—forcing the changes those laws demand. Laws which are on the books, but are not in everyone’s daily reality, become impotent. The Emancipation Proclamation opened the door to freedom, but desegregated schools, giving every child a right to equal education, is the engine that will walk our people through that open door to freedom.

  As I stand here, I cannot help but wonder how many years it will take to make the law for truly equal education a daily reality for everyone. These two powerful laws are now on the books, but the irony is, that yesterday, my wife Ruth and I had to stand in a line marked, “For Coloreds Only,” in order to come here this weekend. We all understand much work yet needs to be done; Ms. Pearl would have quickly pointed out—“You best start out by cleaning up your own house.”

  Please allow me to explain what she meant by this statement. I was blessed to have a family that impressed the need for education throughout my life. Ms. Pearl was taught to read while still a slave—a practice that was against the law back then. She loved to read, and she taught my grandfather and her sister Ruby to read upon their emancipation. Pearl believed that reading could open doors that no man could close, that reading could take you places you were not physically allowed to go, and to meet great people of all colors, who are long since dead.