by Ed Nelson
What impressed me most was they had singled me out on the street. Checked me out and never raised a commotion. The street was busy and no one had broken stride to see what was going on.
Then the coin dropped that I was the actor Sir Richard Jackson and I had to sign autographs all around. They also had heard about the guy I had tackled earlier in the week and told me that was righteous.
I had never heard it used like that before but I liked the ring of it.
From there I headed home.
I spent the evening watching Maverick, Lawman, Dinah Shore and then Jack Benny with the family. I wasn’t a tremendous TV fan but this was my favorite night, well except for Red Skelton on Tuesdays.
After my morning workout I practiced loading and shooting on the run. I had finally got it through my head to let security know in advance what I was doing. For some reason gunfire made them nervous.
Even though the older black powder gave off a deeper boom and was louder than modern powders which gave off a high pitched crack. Jim the guard on detail thanked me for the call. I had saved him some gray hairs.
I was firing at the back of the house behind the garages into the wall. Behind the wall it was woods. The rifle was accurate to about two hundred yards or so, but the ball could go out to a mile. Even though there were no trails in the near vicinity I didn’t want to take any chances.
I had been firing on the run and had pretty poor accuracy. By stopping for a moment, turning, and firing I was able to hit the wall every time, and the target ninety percent of the time. It took practice and trial and error with lower loads to achieve this.
As far as I knew I had never had a flyer. I could tell from the number of flattened balls at the base of the wall. I had drawn a rough human sized target with charcoal and was hitting consistently.
Anyway something odd happened when I fired the next time. The ball kicked up dust as it bounced off the ground in front of the target. My aim was not that far off. Had I used enough powder? I know that I had spilled some while loading. It was just like when I first experimented with light loads.
At first I went Doh and thought it was funny. Then I thought about what if I put too much powder by mistake. That wasn’t funny. Even I knew these things could blowup.
That gave me some food for thought!
After getting cleaned up and having breakfast I called the Director of ‘Over the Ohio’, this being the latest working name for the movie. It would probably change several times before a final title was settled on.
He wanted me to stop by and pick up some music. They wanted me to sing the song while the scenes were being shot. That would make it much easier to do a voice over from someone who could actually sing. Those were my thoughts, not his words. He just said an easier voice over.
Chapter 38
As I was getting ready to walk out the door there was a phone call for me. It was from the Argentine Consulate-General Juan Carlos De Bourbon-Anjou. He wanted to thank me for my assistance at Scouts the other night. He had no idea of the differences in the programs.
Our conversation was in Spanish and he complimented me on my accent or as far as he could tell my non-accent. I would be sure to let Mrs. Hernandez know, she would be very pleased.
He asked if I was the actor Sir Richard Jackson. When I acknowledge the fact he invited me and a guest to an event at the Consulate on Saturday December 19. He assured me an invitation would be in today’s mail. He stopped short.
“Oh I forgot it is a white tie event, you will have to rent a suit for it.”
“Not to worry I own a tailcoat and its accoutrements.”
“Oh, that is unusual for an American but then you are an unusual American.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that so let it go. Besides I had more important things on my mind, like I had used the word accoutrements in conversation for the first time ever.
We exchanged compliments and ended the call. The first thing I did was let Mrs. Hernandez know about the compliment on my accent. She was thrilled but as a Spanish Republican was not impressed by a compliment from any Bourbon-Anjou. I would have to look that up.
I called the studio, and the Director for ‘Over the Ohio’ had time for me as soon as I could get there. Mum and Dad were right; the sound of that guy’s head hitting the pavement was less real as I drove by the school.
The Director Ryan Bayless, saw me right away.
“Rick it is nice to see you again. How have you been?”
“Fine Sir, and you?”
“Just great Rick, this movie is coming together better than I thought it would. I have to bring something up with you that I’m not sure you will like.”
“What is that?”
“Your singing in the movie, I’m going to ask you to work with a voice coach.”
“I thought I was only singing to help the lip syncing?”
I could feel my temper rising.
“That is true but we have a concern, what if an unauthorized recording made it off the set. We don’t want anything horrid coming to light. It would make a laughing stock of our efforts.”
I could see that, but why didn’t it ring true?
“Rick I promise there is nothing going on here, we just want to protect you.”
Now I was really concerned. However I didn’t want to be a jackass about it. It did make sense in kind of a way.
“I never did ask what song you would have me singing.”
“At first we thought Danny Boy, but found out it was only written fifty years ago. So we went with a lively little tune, ‘Soldier, Soldier, Will You Marry Me.” Here is a copy of the words. It’s a tune with a little kick at the end. It really fits the picture we want to create of your character.
I read the words and did think the ending was funny.
Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no hat to put on?
Off to the haberdasher she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a hat, the best that was there,
And the soldier put it on.
Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no coat to put on?
Off to the tailor she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a coat, the best that was there,
And the soldier put it on.
Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no boots to put on?
Off to the cobbler she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a pair of the best that was there,
And the soldier put them on.
Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no pants to put on?
Off to the tailor she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a pair, the best that was there,
And the soldier put them on.
Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Well, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
With a wife and three kids back home?
I agreed to work with a voice coach but something still didn’t feel right about the whole deal.
After agreeing to something I just knew no good would come of I headed out to the stuntmen’s area. I had a question or two.
I was lucky a couple of the guys were there that fired black powder. I explained my event this morning about a weak load. They both agreed that I could overcharge while trying to load on the run and why would I try to pull such an idiot stunt like that
anyway.
I told them about the movie and what Kenton, Wetzel among several others could do. They both thought it was insane and couldn’t wait to try it.
One of the things I learned was that the cap on the end of the powder horn was usually a measuring cup which would hold the necessary charge. That would add an extra step so they showed me another trick.
I could kick myself it was so simple. In those days soldiers had learned to put powder and ball in a twist of paper. They would bite the end off to free the powder and then ram it home.
In my case I could bite the end off, pour powder and ball down the barrel and just stuff the paper into the barrel. This would hopefully keep the ball from rolling out if I tilted the barrel too much.
We drew several Kentucky long rifles from the armory and tried it out. It worked like a charm. They also had a couple of trials of loading and firing on the run. I made a mental note to ask for Mike as a stand in for me. He could really run and fire!
From there it was almost lunch time so I headed home. Dad was there. He was in a good mood. I asked him how things were going.
“Rick they are going great for me, but what is this I hear about you throwing the cat amongst the pigeons?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your new airfreight container idea.”
“I just left a note about it the other day.”
“Well from that note a phone call was made to Flying Tigers airfreight. They went wild about it. Your management team is meeting with them later this week. It’s not a question of doing it. The question is, how soon can containers be available.”
“What about the fit of the container in the hold?”
“Lockheed and Douglas representatives will be there to provide input.”
“How long will it take for our factory to tool up?”
I had learned a few industrial terms along the way.
“Not long at all, the most time consuming part of the project is making and fitting a rolling platform for each aircraft configuration.”
“Rolling platform?”
“It is a floor for the aircraft which is basically a bed of ball bearings which you can use to roll the container into lockdown position. After landing you unlock and roll off. The containers will be lifted in and out of the plane with a forklift. They already make lifts with extended forks which will handle the load.”
“Will it be profitable?”
“In the tens of millions to start and it will grow from there.”
“What about a patent.”
“Already being worked on, you will have some papers to sign next week.”
It just didn’t seem real to me, a casual request for information on a thought, and tens of millions are being discussed.
After lunch I drove on down to the airport for another multi-engine lesson. My instructor seemed determined to find new ways for me to fall out of the sky. Fortunately I had learned enough to prevent that from happening. As I landed after a dozen touch and goes with him turning off an engine to simulate a failure on the glide path he told me I wasn’t doing too bad.
What do you say to that, he was alive what more did he want?
After dinner I spent time with Mum who helped me pack for my trip. My fancy clothes for the big dance had been shipped air freight to the Neil House in Columbus, to be held for my arrival.
I asked if a room had been reserved, she had the information written down for me. When I saw that there was a limo for six people and three bedrooms in the suite certain ideas went through my head.
Mum must be a mind reader as she told me with a smirk.
“Judy and her friend Connie will have one room, her escort Steve and you will share one, the girl’s mothers will have the last one.”
There goes that dream.
After packing was completed I spent the rest of the evening on school work.
Chapter 39
After getting up at what Dad calls zero dark hundred, I took a limo to the airport. I managed to get back to sleep so missed most of the long commute to LAX. For some reason there weren’t many people traveling today so it was easy to get from the counter to the gate.
Normally I would sit in a window seat in First Class but they were all taken. The window seat was empty when I got on. Before the seats occupant showed up I was invited to the flight deck. This seemed to be my new normal with TWA. I stayed there until we were well in the air. I had hoped that they would let me fly the jet, but that didn’t happen.
Oh well. I had hopes of a pretty young lady sitting next to me when I returned to my seat. Not to happen, it was a grumpy looking old guy. He must have been fifty.
I nodded when I sat down but said nothing. He gave what could be described as a grunt and ignored me. I pulled out one of my ancillary readings for my class. I tried to read however the guy was talking to himself. It was hard to ignore so I gave up reading.
Being forced to pay attention to him I realized he was reading and grading papers. From the number of red marks he was making I wouldn’t want to be in one of his classes.
I got engrossed in trying to read the papers as he graded them. They appeared to be MBA business plans. I must have been too obvious because he turned to me and commented.
“All these damn kids think they are going to be another Richard Jackson.”
“Would that be a bad thing?”
“Not if he were real.”
“You mean he doesn’t exist?”
“Oh he is a living person. He is an actor and I think that is what he is doing for the business called Jackson Enterprises. They paid him to act as the inventor of the cargo container. Give me a break, no kid could do that.”
“I read that he got the idea because he worked on an ocean freighter.”
“Nonsense, no parent would let a child that young work as crew on a freighter.”
Maybe I should introduce him to Mum.
“I understand that he has several patents.”
“Again nonsense, until I see his name on them I will never believe it.”
“I have to disagree but no sense in further talk.”
I then returned to my book and he resumed grading. I also pulled out a sheet of notepaper and wrote several things. I enclosed them along with one of my engraved cards which had “Sir Richard Jackson, Queens Messenger”, in an envelope.
We landed in St. Louis for fuel. My professor friend was getting off there so I handed him the envelope.
“Here are some items you might want to look up.”
He dismissively took it from me and stuffed it in his suitcoat pocket. In it I listed the patent numbers and name for the hair dryer, flexible shower head, the cargo containers, sailing date of the Pride of Liberia and the union hall address where he could find the crew listing. I also noted that his students would next be writing about the air freight container business.
I would have loved to seen his face when the truth dawned on him, nah, more fun thinking about what it would have been like.
The rest of the trip was not as interesting. Unfortunately I did get a pretty girl sit next to me. She recognized me immediately and never shut up from Saint Louis to New York. Her first name was appropriately Cathy. I made a point of not getting Chatty Cathy’s last name. I couldn’t get off that plane fast enough.
In the morning my first stop would be The Today Show, so they had a driver and escort waiting for me. After retrieving my luggage I was driven to the Waldorf-Astoria where a suite had been reserved for me. I would be staying here for the whole visit.
As I was checking in, an older man came up and introduced himself. It was Mr. Conrad Hilton, owner of the hotel and founder of the chain which bore his name. He told me how much he admired my shower heads and had them installed in all his hotels.
They were a time saver for travelers who didn’t want to get their hair wet. A shower also used less water than a bath so the hotel saved on that, plus a shower could be cleaned quicker and easier than a bathtub so it was a win for management
and workers.
He told me when he found out I was to be a guest he had my suite upgraded to an Astoria level suite. I thanked him politely. I did ask if they were buying the shower heads from Detroit Faucet or another outlet. He wasn’t certain but would look into it, he wanted the best.
My suite was absolutely the best suite in décor I had ever stayed in. There seemed to be a rule of thumb when traveling, the shorter the stay the nicer the room. You could live in one of these.
The phone rang. I assumed it was the front desk asking if everything was okay. This was after the bellhop went out of his way to show me how everything worked. Instead it was a man’s voice asking if this was Sir Richard Jackson. I was immediately on guard thinking it might be a reporter or worse a papa rat’s eye. I loved Mary’s term for them.
Instead he asked me to hold for President Hoover!
It really was the ex-President. It turned out that he lived here at the Astoria in a suite of his own ever since leaving office. He invited me to join him for dinner at the Bull and Bear restaurant here in the hotel. He wanted to talk to me as one engineer to another.
Wow, this from the man who was President when a dam was built which bears his name.
So instead of dressing casual and having room service I had dinner with a past President of the United States. It was an interesting and educational conversation. It started with general topics like the Dodgers beating the cursed White Sox in the World Series. We both agreed that it was weird calling them the Los Angeles Dodgers.
He was interested in the hairdryer and shower heads which Mr. Hilton had told him about.
We went on to talk about the disaster last week in Malpasset France. We both speculated on the cause of the failure. It could have been a tectonic fault, the result of blasting in the area weakening the dam, the face angles being off from the water pressure, poor geological surveying. President Hoover knew the technical terms like tectonic fault, I had read of the term but when I mentioned the possibility I called it earth slippage.
