Excerpt from the screenplay    "SIXTEEN  HOURS"

Historical fiction piece about two high school students, one black and one white, who were lovers, but became separated out of fear for each other’s safety when learning a riot was in the making due to an incendiary newspaper article about a black shoe shine boy and a white female elevator operator.  The Klan was very active in Tulsa in 1921 and a riot did occur.  For 16 hours in 1921, between May 31st and June 1st, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, one of the worst race riots in the United States occurred in the predominantly black neighborhood of Greenwood.  A neighborhood known throughout the country as "The Black Wall Street of Tulsa," because of its prosperity.  The story begins when Andrew Langston, a black man dying from alcoholism is visited by Clare, the white girl he loved so much, but had to stop seeing.  In essence, Clare spent years trying to find him and finally did find him in a nursing home.  She still loved him and found him just in time for him to meet his son who Clare gave birth to after she ran away from home during the riot for fear what would happen if people knew she became pregnant by a black a black teenager.

FADE IN: 

INT. DAY. MAY, 1964. NURSING HOME. HALLWAY

                  ANDY JACOBS

Mom, are you sure this is the right place, I mean this is an old folks home.  Actually a nursing home.

                 CLARE JACOBS

I’m sure we are at the right place, Andy.  I wrote it down when they called me. Hurry. I’ve waited over 40 years for this day.  The day I have prayed for has finally come.

                  ANDY JACOBS

Someone from here called you?  Who do you know in Tulsa, Oklahoma of all places? We live in Chicago.  You have never mentioned Tulsa.  So, who do you know in this town?

                    CLARE JACOBS

I haven’t always lived in Chicago.  I lived here before you were born.  Someone very important to me apparently came back here, probably looking for me. We need to tell someone we have arrived.

Clare and Andy walk up to the reception desk.

DESK CLERK          May I help you?

                   CLARE JACOBS

Yes, please.  I’m Clare Jacobs.  You called me about one of your residents who is very ill.  I am his next of kin.

                     DESK CLERK

Oh yes, Mrs. Jacobs, we were hoping you could come.  Mr. Langston listed you as his only relative and well, maybe he was imagining things, I mean, you are a white lady. Maybe there is some mistake.   Mr. Langston is not doing too well. 

CLARE JACOBS

Why is he here?  Can you tell me?

                      DESK CLERK

(gets Andrew Langston’s chart)

Well, you see Mrs. Jacobs, Mr. Langston has just about drunk himself to death.  He is an alcoholic and he has cirrhosis of the liver. He used to work here, but we had to let him go because of his drinking. Even now, when he’s having a bad day, he asks for whiskey.  In his present condition we were not certain the information he was giving us was accurate.

CLARE JACOBS

I’m glad you contacted me.  I had no idea he knew where I lived.   May we see him now?

                     DESK CLERK

Yes, yes of course.  He is in room 212 at the end of the hall on the left. 

CLARE JACOBS

Thank you.  Come on Andy.  I’ll explain all this to you later.

INT. DAY. ANDREWW LANGSTON’S ROOM AT THE NURSING HOME

                    CLARE JACOBS

(Clare stops in doorway and stares at the man in the bed).

ANDY JACOBS

Mama? Mama who is this old man? 

                    CLARE JACOBS

Andy, hush.  Just be quiet, I said I will explain it all to you and I will, but for now stop talking.

(Clare walks over to the bed and takes Andrew’s hand)

Andrew, I’m here, it’s Clare.

ANDREW LANGSTON              Oh Lord, am I finally dead?  Was this why I could never find you, ‘cause you was already in heaven?

CLARE JACOBS              Andrew, you are alive and I am alive.  The nursing home contacted me, because you listed me as your next of kin. I guess I am or could have been, even after all these years.  Oh Andrew what have you done to yourself.

(Clare leans down and kisses Andrew on the forehead)

                   ANDREW LANGSTON

Clare, is that really you? Oh Clare I spent my whole life missing the only girl I ever loved. After all this time you came back, and who is that with you?

CLARE JACOBS                 Well Andrew, Andy is the reason I left Tulsa and never came back.  My family didn’t want anything to do with me after they found out I was pregnant.

ANDREW LANGSTON             Found out what?  That we were seeing each other and planning to run away to some place where we could be together?  I couldn’t find you Clare.  I tried everything I could, but I just could not find you.  

(Tears running down his cheek)

After awhile, the only thing that helped me get from one day to the next was to drink myself to sleep at night; every night since I was 17 years old. Guess it caught up with me.  Who’d you say this young man is?

CLARE JACOBS               Andy come over here so he can see you better.  Andrew, this is our son Andy.  Andy, this is your father, Andrew Langston.

I named you after him, so I could believe he was still with me.  He is the only man I have ever loved.  

(Tears filling her eyes)

ANDY JACOBS                 Why didn’t you tell me I had a father who is still alive.  You made me grow up without a father.  Why?

CLARE JACOBS                 Sit down Andy! Now, together we will tell you why.  Andrew do you remember what was going on in May of 1921?  What were you doing that caused us to be so afraid that you ran away and then so did I, just not together as we had planned?

ANDREW LANGSTON                 I was in the hall at Booker T. Washington school here in Tulsa and we were   

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. DAY. TUESDAY. MAY 30TH, 1921. HALLWAY. BOOKER T.

WASHINGTON HIGH SCHOOL. (AN ALL-BLACK TULSA HIGH SCHOOL)

FEMALE STUDENT              Andrew, take these streamers, hang them over the doors.  Come on people we need to hurry.  The prom is tonight. We’ve got to get done and  get to graduation practice. 

INT. DAY. HALLWAY. BOOKER T. WASHINGTON HIGH SCHOOL

                 ADULT BLACK MALE

(runs into building waving a newspaper)

 You kids need to go home ‘cause trouble is coming! (man then runs out of building dropping the newspaper) 

                    ANDREW LANGSTON

Hey mister! You dropped your paper!

(Andrew picks up newspaper and reads headlines out loud)

“To Lynch a Negro Tonight” “Nab

Negro for Attacking Girl in

Elevator”

(Andrew drops newspaper and runs out of building)

                        MALE STUDENT

Andy, hey Andy where you going, we have to finish decorating for tonight, Andy!

FEMALE STUDENT             What’s up with him?  No matter, he ain’t even coming to the dance, he says his mamma is sick.  You know sometimes I think he doesn’t even like girls.  He didn’t even try to ask anyone to the dance.  Anytime it was brought up he just kept saying he couldn’t go because his mamma was sick and he has to take care of her.

MALE STUDENT                Maybe Andy ran because he knows something about what he was reading in the newspaper, you know, what happened yesterday.

DISSOLVE TO THE DAY BEFORE:

INT. DAY. POLICE STATION.

SARA PAGE

(17 year old elevator operator at the Drexel

Building)

Dick Rowland assaulted me (sobbing) when he got in my elevator.

                  POLICE OFFICER

What was a nigger boy doin’ getting in your elevator? Why was he even in your building?

SARA PAGE

I don’t know. I think the  owners said he could use the washroom on the top floor any time he needed to go.  He’s been in my elevator before and always stood at the back while I was taking him to the top floor.

                  POLICE OFFICER

Tell us exactly what happened.

SARA PAGE

When I closed the door, he jumped at me and stepped on my foot and then grabbed me (begins crying uncontrollably)

                POLICE OFFICER

(police officer calls a few other officers over to his desk to listen to what the girl is saying) So the little bastard assaulted you, right?

SARA PAGE

Yes, he tried to, but I screamed (beat) I was able to push him away.  I got the elevator door open (beat)  then he ran out. I don’t know where he went.

        POLICE OFFICER                 (Police officer looks at the other officers standing around the desk)  Alright boys, let’s find this Dick Rowland.  Get out there now; find that no good piece of crap and arrest him. 

CUT TO MAY 31, 1921

EXT. DAY SOUTH GREENWOOD AVENUE

OFFICER HENRY CARMICHAEL      Stop the car.  Look, that’s the shoe shine boy, Dick Rowland. 

(Officer gets out with partner Henry Carmichael.  Both officers draw their guns.)

OFFICER HENRY C. PECK        Dick Rowland, put your hands against the wall.  Boy, you done got yourself into some bad shit.  You’re under arrest for assaulting a little white girl .

Officer Carmichael handcuffs Dick Rowland and puts him in the squad car.

INT. DAY 4:00 PM. POLICE STATION

COMMISSIONER J. M. ADKINSON   Sheriff McCulloch, you know the whites are talking about lynching that kid Rowland?

SHERIFF MCCULLOCH             I know and that kind of talk has already reached the niggers in Greenwood.  I expect we need to move Rowland or we may have a lynching mob get in here and take him.

COMMISSIONER J. M. ADKINSON       Get a deputy and move him to the Courthouse on 6th street, the jail is on the third floor.  That will give us some time to deal with this mess.

EXT. NIGHT 9:00PM COUNTY JAIL

Approximately 400 white men gather at the County Jail milling around talking about lynching Dick Rowland

EXT. NIGHT 9:15 PM GREENWOOD NEIGHBORHOOD

Rumor has reached the black neighborhood about the white mob at the jail threatening to hang the 17 year old Dick Rowland for assaulting a white girl.

EXT. NIGHT COUNTY JAIL
 
Approximately 35 black men show up at the jail and the only two black police officers on the force, Carmichael and Peck tell them the rumor isn’t true and convinces them to go home.  The black men return to their neighborhood.EXT. NIGHT GREENWOOD NEIGHBORHOOD

A second rumor circulates through the Greenwood neighborhood about whites storming the jail.  This time about 75 black men return to the jail with weapons.

EXT. NIGHT OUTSIDE OF COUNTY JAIL

SHERIFF MCCULLOCH             Now all you men need to go home and let us take care of this.  Go home before people start getting arrested.  We don’t want anybody getting hurt.

EXT. MIDNIGHT JUNE 1ST, 1921

Black and White men firing at each other from across the railway track that separated the Greenwood neighborhood from the white part of town.  White men began entering the Greenwood neighborhood by the carloads shooting at anyone they saw.  Around 60 to 80 cars formed a circle around Greenwood and each car had men in them carrying machine guns, rifles, and petrol bombs.  The neborhood of Greenwood was set afire and 8 airplanes were dispatched to drop nitro-glycerine bombs on the area.

WHITE MAN

Nigger, give me that gun!

A gun shot is heard, black and white men begin fighting.  A black man is shot. Black and white men start running away after a brief exchange of gun fire. When the shooting stopped twelve men were dead: ten white and two black

INT. DAWN A HOUSE ON ARCHER STREET IN GREENWOOD NEIGHBORHOOD

                    ANDREW LANGSTON

Mama, we got to go, they’re burning down the businesses and the houses! They even have a planes dropping bombs, we got to go now, hurry!

ANDREW AND HIS MOTHER RUN INTO NEARBY WOODS WHERE OTHER BLACK FAMILIES ARE HIDING FROM THE WHITE MEN RIOTING.

                    UNNAMED WHITE MAN

(FINDS AN ELDERLY COUPLE HOLDING HANDS PRAYING)

Good thing you niggers are praying ‘cause I’m here to help you meet  your Maker.

(white man shoots both in the back of their heads, then torches their house)

Just after 5 AM on June 1st, the Governor called out the National Guard including 150 troops from Oklahoma City.  Three hours later , the troops were confronted by fifteen or twenty thousand blood-maddened rioters. By 11:30 AM, Marshall Law had been declared, but the neighborhood known as the “Black Wall Street of America,” Greenwood, was ablaze and continued to burn for hours. Marshall law remained in place until 5 PM on Friday, June 3rd.  The Greenwood Neighborhood continued to smolder.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. DAY. MAY, 1964. ANDREW LANGSTON’S ROOM IN REST HOME

ANDREW LANGSTON                 I remember, we were decorating the hall getting ready for the prom and when that man came in and started talking about a lynching ‘cause some white girl had been assaulted, I just had to get out of there

‘cause I was afraid.  I’m sorry Clare, I was afraid we’d be found out, so I ran, ‘cause I didn’t want either one of us to get killed.  Since I couldn’t have you, over the years I took comfort in drink, every night. Sometimes you would come to me in my dreams.  I love you Clare, I have always loved you. And now, I see I have a son, too. 

When I found out you were in Chicago, I should have come to get you, I was just too afraid.  Drinking was the only thing that helped, and now it has ruined me.

CLARE JACOBS Andrew             I never married either.  I just started telling people my last name is Jacobs, a name I picked out of the phone book. I wanted so much for it to be Langston. I worked at any job I could find, raised Andy as best as I could, but I never told him about you, us. I was afraid too.  He is so light skinned, people never seemed to notice he is half black.  I’m so ashamed I never told him.

ANDY JACOBS

You lied to me for almost 40 years?  So I am the bastard son of a black man?  How could you do this to me. Lie to me for my whole life.  I gotta get out of here.  I have to go somewhere and figure this out.

CLARE JACOBS                Andy, wait, come back. I didn’t know how to tell you that the man I always have loved ran away for fear we both would be hurt if people found out.  Andy, I have always loved your father, always.  Please come back.

ANDREW LANGSTON               Clare let him go.  He needs time to sort all this out.  I know you raised him to be a good man.  He will be back.  Just give him some time. 

                     CLARE JACOBS                                   I hope so Andrew.  First I lost you for all these many years, and now I know I could not handle losing my son too.  I just could not stand losing him. He has been my whole life; a life I had to live without you. 

INT. MORNING. ANDREW LANGSTON’S ROOM IN REST HOME

ANDREW LANGSTON             Clare, you’re still here, holding my hand.  What happened to our lives?  What kind of life could we have had together?  And Andy, I can tell that you raised him to respect his elders.  You did good Clare, you did very good. Don’t worry, he’ll be back. I love you Clare.  I still do, I always have and look what I did, I wasted what could have been.

CLARE JACOBS

We did what we had to do Andrew, we can’t go back, but we can be with each other now.  Andy is a good young man.  He will sort it out, he has part of your heart, he will be alright.

Andy Jacobs opens the door and walks into his father’s room.  He is accompanied by another man.

ANDY JACOBS                  Okay, it is going to take some time, but I love my mother and if you are my dad, then I will learn to love you too, but first I insist on one thing.  You have to agree to it or I can’t be around either one of you; I mean never having told me the truth my entire life, and all.

CLARE JACOBS

Andy, I was telling the truth, I was afraid and I didn’t know how to tell you; and the years, the years just kept passing by.  Please don’t ever go away from me, from us.

                      ANDY JACOBS

Well, I love you mom, and I think after all these years and the way I have seen you two together, I have to make things right, I mean it isn’t too late.

CLARE JACOBS

What are you talking about son? 

Not too late for what?

                  ANDY JACOBS

To make an honest man and woman out of you two.  I want you to meet Reverend James.  I needed someone to talk to. We visited about this  and I think we have the answer for all of us.

                    CLARE JACOBS                                    What answer?  What are you talking about?

ANDREW LANGSTON          What’s going on.

REVEREND JAMES              It is a pleasure meeting both of you.  You have a very, well, insistent son who loves you very much.  So let’s get on with it.

ANDREW LANGSTON/CLARE JACOBS         Get on with what?

                   ANDY JACOBS

You two are getting married today, right now, actually. I Want my parents to be married so hold hands and do what Reverend James tells you to do and say.  Go ahead Reverend.

                   REVEREND JAMES

(two nurses enter the room)              If you two will join hands, we will can begin.  These nurses have agreed to be your witnesses.  So shall we begin?  Okay. Dearly beloved, we are here today to join together in holy matrimony Clare Jacobs and Andrew Langston.  Clare repeat after me, do you take Andrew to be your lawful husband to have and to hold till death do you part?

FADE OUT.

Excerpt from the screenplay "The Sunday Mail"
(blog does not allow for standard screenwriting formatting)

THIS TEXT APPEARS AGAINST A CLEAR BLUE SKY THEN DISSOLVES.  THE SOUND OF BIRDS IS HEARD.
This is a true story. The events depicted in this film took place in New Mexico in 1996.  Names have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals involved. The story is told exactly as it happened.
FADE IN:
EXT. FRONT PORCH - SUNDAY, JUNE 16, 1996 - DAY
ANNIE is a pleasant, short, gray haired, sixty five YEAR OLD retired school administrator.  She walks out the fron door followed by her constant companion, BLOSSOM, the little dog she adores. They pause on the porch, then walks down the steps, going down the sidewalk leading to the street.  she stops, turns and looks back at her house, admires her flower garden in front of the porch. She then picks up Blossom and continues toward the street stopping at the mailbox.
ANNIE
Blossom, what am I doing?  It’s Sunday.
Absentmindedly, she opens mailbox while talking to her dog.
Oh. Good God, Blossom, look at that, I must have forgot to get the mail again.  C’mon girl, let’s go see what we have here.
Annie and Blossom return to porch and sit on the swing.
She looks up and sees her neighbor working in his flower bed.
(waves hand)
AnnIE (CONT’D)
Hello Lloyd, isn’t this a lovely Sunday?
Lloyd is on his knees planting marigolds.
LLOYD
(Looks up at Annie)
Well, hi Annie.  Yes, it’s quite a beaut’, eh?  Good for working in my garden. Looks like you forgot to get your mail again.
ANNIE
I surely did.  I guess I’m just getting absent minded.
Lloyd stands up, brushes off clothes, removes gloves.
LLOYD
Well aren’t we all? Got to get cleaned up now.  Grand kids coming over.  You enjoy this sunshine.
Annie and Blossom sitting on the porch swing. Annie begins to look through the stack of mail.
ANNIE
Have fun with your grand kids. 
(Talking to dog)
Blossom, a lot of trees were killed sending out all this junk mail to people who don’t want it. Uh oh, I can tell these are all credit card companies. Credit cards are like little plastic traps.  Go get whatever you want and they got ya.  You end up paying 20 times what the thing you had to have originally cost. I sure don’t need any credit cards. Look at this one, I can get my oil changed on Ladies Day at Jiffy Lube for only $19.95.  Guess I’ll keep that one ‘cause we could use an oil change. Good Lord, the phone company sends me 6 pages just to say I didn’t make any long distant calls. And look at this, Publisher’s Clearing House says I’m definitely going to be a winner if my number is selected.
(Looks up and sighs)
I wonder what we would do with all that money.  You know we got every thing we need and then some.  Guess we could go on a little trip, put some in the bank and give the rest away. J. C. Penny’s.  Well, I don’t really need any new clothes either.
(puzzled expression)
Wait just a minute Blossom, look, here’s a card addressed to me. Now why would someone be sending me a card?  Its not my birthday or Cindy’s or a holiday? It’s just a beautiful ordinary Sunday.
(She examines envelope)
No return address.  This envelope looks so old it has turned yellow, but look at the handwriting.  Handwriting tells a lot about character.  Well, let’s open it.
(Opens envelope)
“You wanted to talk, so I am here.”
(irritated expression)
That’s it?  No name, no nothing? Who is here?
Suddenly, the breeze slightly increases and Annie hears a very  pleasant voice.
GOD (O.S.)
I am.
ANNIE
(Startled expression)
What?
(looks at dog)
Blossom, I must be hearing things.
GOD (O.S.)
You’re not hearing things, it’s me.  You know, God.
ANNIE
God who?
GOD (O.S.)
THE God. You know, the one you people call the One and only. I’m not quite into the texting thing yet, so I sent a card.
ANNIE
Oh no! Don’t tell me!
GOD (O.S.)
Tell you what?
ANNIE
Am I dead?  And my little Blossom, too?
GOD (O.S.)
Of course not and Blossom is fine.
ANNIE
Then why am I talking to God? Have I completely gone ‘round the bend? Cindy always says I imagine things.
GOD (O.S.)
She’s right, but imagining things is fun. I do it all the time.
ANNIE
Somehow, I don’t think Cindy means it quite that way.   
GOD (O.S.)
I’ve been watching you two for, what is it now, 30 years? I knew you two would hit it off...just right for each other. As far as I can see, and you know I can see really far, you two have been doing fine for years. Okay, now, you said you wanted to talk.  So here I am.
ANNIE
You don’t have a problem with Cindy and me, together?  It’s really alright with you? I mean you know how some people keep saying you don’t approve.
GOD (O.S.)
Holy crap, Annie.  Don’t you think I have a few things more important to worry about than two people who have loved and cared for each other all these years. Remember, I had a little something to do with it too, no matter what others say.   Now that that is out of the way, what did you want to talk about?
ANNIE
Now let’s see. Now I remember.  I was thinking, really more like daydreaming --- I do that a lot when I work in the flower garden.
GOD (V.O.)
Yes I know.
ANNIE
Yes, I guess you would, wouldn’t you? So I was daydreaming about God.  You know, you, and we’re sitting on the front porch.
GOD (O.S.)
Me and you on your front porch?  Now that’s gotta’ be a new one.
ANNIE
(Looks around porch)
Well now, I think our porch is a nice place to sit and admire the flowers, visit with neighbors,
friends, or just sit and do nothing.
GOD (O.S.)
Yes it is, it’s very comfortable. Anyway, I got your message and-- 
Blossom jumps off the swing to go chase a butterfly.  A depression in the cushion beside Annie suddenly appears.
Ahhh, nice, just sitting on your porch.  I don’t get to sit down too often and my feet are killing me. So, what’s on your mind?
ANNIE
God has feet?
GOD (O.S.)
My feet is what’s on your mind? How else do you think I would walk with people who need me? I walk with a lot of folks all the time, sometimes all of them at the same time.  I know, I know, I’ve heard about the spirit and wing stuff.  Don’t believe everything you hear.
What gets me is the “in my image” stuff. 
ANNIE
I should have swept the porch.
GOD (O.S.)
Swept what?
ANNIE
I said I should have swept the porch.
GOD (O.S.)
Strange how people always say they should have cleaned up something when I drop in on them. I’m kind of on a schedule here.  So what’s on your mind?
ANNIE
I’m not sure I have a mind. I mean, I think I’m sitting here talking to God. 
GOD (O.S.)
I hear that almost every time I drop in on someone too. Did you want to talk about anything in particular?
ANNIE
Well no, I mean yes, I don’t know what I mean, but since you’re  here and all, I have wondered about a few things.  You know, at my age, probably the usual things like oh I don’t know... the weather maybe, or how about religion, you being God and all?
GOD (V.O.)
Why does everyone want to know about religion?  Well alright, what about it?
ANNIE
I sometimes wonder why there are so many and they seem to never agree with each other too much.  And each one thinks it is better than the other.  I guess you already know we don’t do religion per se.  So what do you think?
GOD (V.O.)
That’s your area, not mine.
ANNIE
Religion is not God’s area? I mean, really, not your area?
GOD (V.O.)
What I mean is you all invented religion, not me.  Support groups I guess. 
ANNIE
Support groups?  Religion?  I suppose you could look at it that way. Well, okay then, what about this idea of eternity that preachers are always talking about and some people can’t wait to see?
GOD (V.O.)
Now that’s a little more involved.  Take a look at your flower garden. It really is a pretty garden.  I see you have what you call annuals and perennials, right?
ANNIE
Yes, but I don’t see....
GOD (V.O.)
Anyway, eternity is kind of like the difference between your annuals and your perennials. Annuals bloom for one season, produce seed, then that’s it, poof, they’re gone.  Perennials, on the other hand, they bloom every year. Year, after year, after year.  You could say eternity is something like your perennials, it just goes on year after year. 
ANNIE
I see, so life blooms just one time for a short while, but eternity  keeps happening year after year. Right?
GOD (V.O.)
That’s about how it works, more or less.  I gotta’ tell you though, sometimes I have to send some folks back a few times until they can get it right. Been doing it for years and its been working great.  Pretty clever, huh?
ANNIE
So you decide who is going to be a perennial?
GOD (V.O.)
Well, not exactly.  I do decide the annuals, but then we both actually decide on the perennial deal.
Blossom runs back up on the porch and jumps on Annie’s lap.
ANNIE
We do?  We both decide, hmmmm. Well then what about my Blossom?
GOD (V.O.)
Blossom’s included.
ANNIE
Thank God! I mean thank you.  That makes me happier about the whole thing. She is such a sweet little girl and I love her dearly.  I worry about her though, since she is getting up in age.
GOD (O.S.)
Not to worry.  Already got it covered. She’ll be fine.  I’d say she will be a really sweet little “perennial.”  
The depression on the swing’s cushion begins to fade.
If that’s about it, I probably need to scoot.  You know, I’ve always thought gardening is just about the best way to do what you people call praying.  You get your hands in the soil, you plant the seeds, give ‘em water, and nurture them, then watch them bloom.  And all the while, I hear what you are thinking-praying.
ANNIE
Sorry you have to leave.  I’ve enjoyed visiting with you.  You cleared up a couple of things I have thought about from time to time. Stop in again when you can.  Next time we will have tea, unless you care for something a little stronger.
GOD (V.O.)
Thanks for wanting me to drop by for a little visit.  I’m pretty sure I won’t need to be back to see you for a long time, but don’t worry about it. Just keep tending your garden, okay? I’ll be seeing you later --- much later.
INT. DAY -- HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM -- SUNDAY, JUNE 16, 1996
Dr. Allen enters and begins talking to Annie’s family members.
DR. ALLEN
Well, Dr. Henderson tried to put in stents and that didn’t work.  Her vessels are too small.  I’m sorry, but it really doesn’t look good.  He is going to try bypass surgery.  Just know it might not work.
THREE DAYS LATER:
INT. INTENSIVE CARE UNIT -- FRIDAY, JUNE 21, 1996 -- MORNING
Dr. Henderson and two nurses enter room and begin removing the breathing tube connected to a ventilator machine.  The doctor listens to the patient’s heart and checks the bandages on her chest and legs. Doctor takes Annie’s hand.
DR. HENDERSON
Annie, open your eyes. We are going to sit you up on the side of the bed for a few minutes. Wake up now.
The nurses lift Annie into a sitting position, then swing  her legs over the side of the bed.  One nurse moves in front of Annie and one is on the her left side and the doctor is on her right side.
DOCTOR HENDERSON
I’m going to let you go to the Cardiac Unit on the 4th floor after the nurses finish getting you ready to move there.
ANNIE
Wait, I can’t see things too good. Why am I all bandaged up?
NURSE
Because you had surgery.  You need to hold my arm and sit up for just a few minutes.
ANNIE
Surgery?  When did I have surgery? No wonder I feel like I’ve been run over by a semi. He didn’t tell me that all this was going on.
NURSE
No, the doctor probably didn’t tell you. You were unconscious. Your heart stopped while you were having an arteriogram.  You had surgery three days ago and the doctor thinks you are doing well enough to move to another room downstairs. Your family can come in and see you for a few minutes.  Then we will get you ready to move.
ANNIE
No, I wasn’t talking about the doctor. I was talking to... I think I need to lie back down (beat) Is Blossom okay?  Was she hurt. He said she would be fine.  Where is Cindy?
NURSE
Who is Blossom?
ANNIE
She’s my precious little dog.  I was sitting with her on the front porch, looking at the mail and.... could you find Cindy?
Quite weak and becoming nauseated, Annie starts to fall back.
NURSE
Let’s get you back in bed and your family can come in and see you one at a time for just a few minutes.  Maybe they know about Blossom.
ANNIE
Can you find Cindy?
Cindy, Annie’s life long partner enters the room.
CINDY
I’m here.  Right here.
(takes Annie’s hand.)
You gave all of us a big scare.
ANNIE
Look at all these bandages, what happened to me.  I mean one minute I am talking to... well what happened and our Blossom, is she alright?
CINDY
Linda is taking care of Blossom and she is fine.  You had a heart attack and had emergency open heart surgery.  A quadruple bypass.
ANNIE
I had surgery four times?  I.. we were sitting on the front porch...
I think I’m kind of sleepy.
(squeezes Cindy’s hand)
Stay with me. I’m just going to take a little nap.
CINDY
I’m going to let Shannon and Lisa come in for a minute.  And your brother is here too, from Virginia.
ANNIE
Okay, I’ll wake up when they all get here, but I want you stay with me
(closing eyes)
always.
       
ELEVEN DAYS LATER:
EXT. DAY --HOSPITAL ENTRANCE - THURSDAY, JUNE 27TH, 1996
Orderly is standing beside Annie’s wheelchair and a nurse assistant is with a cart full of flowers.  Cindy drives up, gets out of the car.
CINDY
I think we better put her in the back, there is a little more room there.
The orderly and Cindy help Annie out of the wheelchair and the orderly puts the hospital blanket over her in the back seat. The nurse assistant helps put the flowers in the car. Annie tries to hand back the blanket.
ORDERLY
It’s okay, you keep the blanket ...take care of yourself... remember what the doctor said, no foot races for awhile, okay? Bye, bye.
EXT. DAY -- FRONT PORCH -- FRIDAY, JUNE 29TH, 1996
Annie sitting on the porch swing holding Blossom and watching Cindy watering the flowers.
CINDY
These flowers really needed some water.  I think they are going to be okay though.
Annie sitting in the swing patting Blossom on the head.
ANNIE
I’m glad to hear that.  You know the last thing I remembered before all this happened was when we got home from that Italian restaurant, I wasn’t feeling too well.
CINDY
I know, you went to bed early and woke me up in the middle of the night having terrible pains.  I took you to the Emergency Room, remember?
ANNIE
Yes, yes, I remember now.  I think I had the best ambulance driver in the world, maybe the universe.
CINDY
Scared the crap out of me.
ANNIE
I know.  I was a scared too. The whole thing was quite an experience.
CINDY
Standing between a rose bush and a Peony turning off a faucet.
What? Now, what were you saying? I didn’t hear you.
Cindy walks up steps and sits beside Annie who is holding Blossom.
ANNIE
I was saying, I remember you taking me to the hospital. And being in the ER, but then the pain came back and I suddenly was in a dark room with a doctor and nurse who were wearing masks.  They were talking, but I don’t know what they were saying.  Then the nurse pulled the sheet up over me.... I couldn’t move. I asked her to please don’t, but I guess she didn’t hear me, ‘cause she did it anyway.......  then nothing.  Everything went away.  It was so peaceful and quiet and I didn’t hurt anymore... then the mail came....   
CINDY
The mail came?  You had another heart attack and they took you to surgery... you don’t remember that?
ANNIE
No, I don’t remember that, but I do remember Blossom and I getting the mail, then sitting right here on our porch and...
Suddenly, once again the breeze slightly increases and Annie hears the same pleasant voice she heard several days earlier.
GOD (O.S.)
It wasn’t your time.  You still have gardens to tend.
ANNIE (V.O.)
(whispering)
Thank you.
The breeze stops as suddenly as it began.  Annie looks at Blossom, Cindy, and the flowers, and smiles.
CINDY
You were in surgery for hours... it seemed like an eternity to me.  I was so happy when I got to see you even if you were asleep.  You woke up a couple of days later holding my hand.
ANNIE
Annie takes Cindy’s hand and looks at the garden.
Love you.  I’m so glad I’m home.  Everything is so beautiful... the garden, our little Blossom, and you, especially you.
Annie looks down the sidewalk then at the mailbox.
Say, do you know the real difference between annuals and perennials?
(hugs Blossom)
And before I forget, I have it on very good authority  everything is going to be just fine. You. Me. Us. Blossom... for a long, long
time....
                     THE END?  
GOD (O.S.)
Hey, That’s my call!
FADE OUT.

 

 

The Promise Quilt

“Sixty years.  Has it really been that long,” I asked?

“Yes, it has been sixty years,” I answered myself out loud, as I unfolded, then smoothed the Promise Quilt over the antique four-poster bed.

 Each time I see a four-poster bed my mind pulls me back to the time as a five year old skinny kid I met my mother on a hot summer evening in 1945.  I remember every detail as if it happened yesterday, because buried deep inside me, that scared little kid still asks why did it happen?

Inside an old clapboard house with a tin roof, so many years ago, the soft quiet of a moon-lit summer evening was shattered.  My big, blue-eyed, and pink-cheeked Auntie lifted me up with her familiar farm-weathered hands and strong arms.  She stood me on top of the Promise Quilt that covered my big four-poster bed.  Then, without a word, she turned and walked away ...forever. 

With fear and fascination, I saw an unfamiliar woman sitting at the foot of my bed. She was dressed in store-bought finery with pearls around her neck.  A twinkling sea-horse shaped brooch was pinned to the jacket of her linen suit.  Her chestnut brown hair was softly combed back away from her face, a face that reflected something familiar to me.  Petite, pretty, and with the fragrance of Auntie’s flower garden, she sat quietly, staring at me and gently smiling.  Slowly, she reached over, and took my left hand in her right hand.

“Don’t be afraid.  I have not seen you since you were born.  I’m your mother.  Your daddy and I have come to take you home.”

Take me? Take me where, I thought.  Panic rushed up through me and I wanted to run away, but I couldn’t move.

“You’re not my mother, you’re not my Auntie,” I managed to stammer. 

Confused, I pulled my hand away from her.  Out of a frightened child’s confusion and with a breaking heart, suddenly it came to me: Auntie was giving me away.

With panic in my eyes, I turned to look for Auntie to ask her why she was giving me away.  Had I been bad?  Did she no longer love me?  What had I done?  But Auntie wasn’t in the room. I called out to her as tears ran down my cheeks, but there was no answer. 

I always will remember the lonely sound made that night by our old kitchen screen door banging shut.  It was an old clapper-style door and Auntie had placed a hairpin through the wire fabric to scare off flies.  A door badly in need of paint that opened on to a big back porch filled with rocking chairs, buckets, and toys and where my big collie dog would sit with me for hours. When the banging sound stopped, so did the world I knew.  The world I knew was gone forever. 

In 1945, my world was a farm somewhere in Bowie County, Texas.  It was dirt roads, camp meetings, and Prince Albert tobacco tins.  It was my big, blue-eyed Auntie driving a ‘38 Dodge truck with the windows rolled down and singing so loud people in the next county could hear her.  It was me and my sister singing along with Auntie while bouncing along in that old truck as we headed off on one adventure or another.

Whenever we went somewhere it was our habit to sing and the louder the better.  My sister and I learned to measure distance by the number of verses we would sing while Auntie would drive from one place to another.  We knew, for example, our farm was two verses from Mr. And Mrs. Avery’s farm or ten verses from the Gospel Lighthouse Church.  We knew we were more than twenty versus from Texarkana, the nearest town to our farm big enough to have anything more than a post office and a filling station. 

On one particular day, in 1945, we went fishing at the Willow pond.  To get there, we only went about five verses down a narrow dirt road.  It wasn’t a real road though, it was more like the wide path a tractor sometimes makes. 

A gritty ribbon of dust followed us through a cornfield to a blue-black oasis shaded on one side by half a dozen old Willow trees.  Auntie eased off the gas pedal and let the truck roll to a stop.  She allowed for the dust to settle a minute, then wiped her face with an old towel.  She plopped on her big straw hat, then pulled the bead on the string up to her chin. Her hat on, she stepped down out of the truck and gave us the biggest grin in the whole state of Texas, maybe even the whole United States.  Auntie was our comfort.  She was our home.

“Now, Miss June Bug, this is a special day. You and Sis are going to catch old Charlie.  Yessiree, today you catch old Charlie and tonight you two are going to get a big surprise.”

Sis and I wore ear-to-ear grins anticipating a big surprise.  I poked Sis, then pointed toward Auntie.  We watched her take a clean rag from one of the pockets on her flowered cotton dress. She wiped the beads of sweat that filled her twinkling eyes and made rivulets on her cheeks.

While surveying the pond, Auntie slipped her Prince Albert tobacco tin from her pocket.  Holding the tobacco tin in one hand, she flipped open the lid with a single motion of her thumb.  Inspecting the contents of the tin, she stuck in her index finger and dragged out two slippery night crawlers.  She took our hooks, slid on those critters, then flicked the dust from her lap, stood straight up, and in a graceful swing of her arm, she tossed our worm-laden lines into the water to meet their fate.  They sank right down and made our bobbers a dip.

Sis and I sat side by side, cane poles in our hands, with our hair done up in braided pig-tails.  Barefoot, wearing matching flower-sack shorts, we couldn’t take our eyes off our bobbers.  Listening to the cicadas sing their ratchitty-sounding summer songs, we waited for old Charlie and wondered at all the marvels around us as little country girls would often do.

“A surprise, what surprise” said Sis suddenly?

I looked at her without surprise, because Sis always has had a habit of saying things right out loud when she was turning them over in her mind. 

“Well, I’ll tell you this much,” Auntie slowly answered, “Your daddy is home on leave and he is coming to visit and bringing a surprise.” 

“Daddy is coming?  Is mommy coming too?  She got sick and had to go away a long time ago, ” Sis blurted out with excitement, but Auntie did not answer.   Auntie just started humming words from her favorite hymn, “What A Friend We Have In Jesus.”

“Mommy?” I asked.

 “Mommy got sick when you was born”, Sis added.

“Mommy?” I repeated, but then I left it alone.

Sis and I waited for Auntie to give away more of the surprise, but it was hot, the hooks were baited, and the corks bobbed lazily in the still water.  It was time for that black oasis to deliver up old Charlie.

Sixty years ago and miles and miles away in some corner of my memory, my Auntie, Sis, and I still sit by a pond trying to catch old Charlie.  Life has taken me on so many turns traveling thousands of miles, but sometimes, just the smallest thing takes me right back to that special time.

Woodbridge, Virginia, is full of antiques.  Old people and old things side by side in an old town.  In my antique shop, I stand staring at the four-poster bed I bought at the auction over in Fairfax last Tuesday night.  I made it up with the Promise Quilt I picked up this past summer somewhere in the Vermont countryside.  Just for an instant, I can see a five year old child standing on that quilt, laughing, innocent and happy.

“Was it sweat or tears I saw in those big blue eyes so many years ago at that little spit of a pond in some corn field in Texas,” I caught myself saying out loud.

Closing up the shop for the night, as I walked to the front door, I turned back one more time to look at the old four-poster bed covered with a Promise Quilt.  Standing outside on the sidewalk, while pulling the door shut and turning the key in the lock, I suddenly heard in the distance a familiar voice singing.

“Tra la la, tweedle-y dee, dee, it gives me a thrill to wake up in the morning on Mockingbird Hill.”  I turned and looked up and down the street.  Nothing.  No one.

Promise Quilt I walked across the sidewalk, then I saw where the singing must have come.  I blinked and rubbed my eyes to try to see more clearly.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw the tail lights of an old ‘38 Dodge truck.  As fast as I could, I turned to look down the street to get a better look, but it was gone.  Was it ever there, I thought, or was it just a wishful vision?

I pressed the electric key pad to unlock the doors on my truck, opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel.  Gripping the steering wheel, staring out the windshield, I wondered where that old ‘38 Dodge truck was going, and where it had been all these years. I wondered how many verses of some song it took the driver to get there.  My child’s mind wondered if it possibly could be the same truck that took me and Sis up and down dirt roads, full of love and laughter and song.  Most of all, I guess I wanted to see the driver just one more time.  I wanted to crawl up onto that big lap and sit in the shelter of those strong arms and I realized the child in me was still crying after all these years.  Still wanting to know why it all had to end on that hot summer evening so many miles away and so many years ago in 1945?  A sadness that never dies.

“Passenger 31”

 

Eighty-one frail, but excited elderly people stand in line shivering in the cold waiting for the special Double Decker Megabus.  Eighty-one senior citizens come here every three months to break the law. 

While they wait, a happy elfin-type fellow goes up and down the line giving each senior a fresh hot cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee.  The tourists visit with each other while they eat their rolls and find out the latest news about family and friends before boarding the bus which takes them to a certain drugstore in Canada where they can get their prescriptions filled at prices they can afford.

Arriving in Ontario, eighty-one energetic, party-mood 20 and 30 year old people get off the Megabus. Some of the tourists leap two or three steps at a time down to the sidewalk.  They all file into the nearby drugstore, drop off their prescriptions and are told by the pharmacist to return promptly in four hours to pick up their prescriptions, because the Megabus will be waiting to take them back across the border into the United States.

“Let’s hit the casino,” said Ethel after giving her prescription to the pharmacist, “I want to have some fun and if I’m lucky, win a few dollars.”  Jake, after handing his prescription to the pharmacist, chimed in, “yeah I won $257.00 when we were here three months ago.  Let’s go see if I can do it again.”

Ethel, Jake, Alice, and Joe walk into the casino and have to blink their eyes a couple of times to adjust to the bright lights as well as hearing all the bells, whistles, and clanging noises coming from all the machines.  Ethel makes a bee-line to the Liberty Sevens slot machine.  Jake heads to the craps tables and Joe follows.  Alice likes to play the progressives, so she sits down at a machine with a mega-bonus of 375 million, unfolds her twenty dollar bill and slips it in the machine.  She hits the max bid button.  Since it is $5 a pop, she only gets to hit it four times.  First hit, bam, suddenly flashing lights and siren sounds come from the machine.  Casino employees begin to gather around the machine.  Ethel hit the mega-bonus with fifteen-dollars to spare.

Jake, Alice, and Joe ran over to see what all the commotion was about and see Ethel, eyes glazed over, just sitting in her chair unable to speak, but just pointing in the direction of the machine, which was still screaming and jangling at a near deafening level.  A casino employee holding a clipboard accompanied by a security officer stepped through the crowd that had gathered and asked Ethel for some identification.  Ethel opened her purse and pulled out her wallet.  She told the casino employee all she had for identification was her Social Security and Voter Identification cards.  The casino employee, in a most officious tone, said, “I need to see a picture I.D.,” so Ethel pulled out an old expired Michigan Driver’s License with her picture on it and handed it to the employee.

“What are you trying to pull, lady?  This is a picture I. D. of a woman at least forty years older than you,” said the employee.  Ethel took the license from him and said, “well that’s me and these people can testify to it” as she pointed to Jake, Alice, and Joe.  The casino employee said, “You have to prove who you say you are or we can’t say you are the winner of this progressive, do you understand?”  Ethel, feeling weak, begins to fall from the chair, but is caught by Jake. 

“Look mister, she is who she says she is, I will swear to it,” said Jake.  “That won’t do,” said the employee.  “See right here on the machine it says players must have a picture I.D. on them to receive hand payouts, which are jackpots of any size, and she’s not the woman on that driver’s license.”

From nowhere, the elfin-type fellow, now dressed in a casino uniform rolls his cart through the crowd, passing out Cinnamon rolls and coffee.  He scoots next to Ethel saying, “Madam, eat one of my rolls and all will be well.”  Alice took one bite.  Suddenly, she was weary and actually looked like the woman on the driver’s license. 

The casino employee ate a couple of bites of his roll when Ethel handed him her license again and he said, “I’ll need to take this and your social security card to the office.  Do you want a check or cash?”  Ethel asked, “Can it be wired to my bank in the U. S.?”  The casino employee said, “there’s a fee.”  Ethel just smiled, and said, “I don’t think the fee will be a problem.”  She once again got into her purse and pulled out her checkbook, handed the casino employee a blank check indicating the bank and her account number.  Ethel continued, “I had a wonderful time, but I have to leave soon to pick up my prescriptions and to get on the Megabus that is taking us back home.” 

The casino employee advised Ethel it would take about thirty minutes to complete the paperwork and asked, “You want a lesser amount lump sum, or do you want the whole jackpot paid out in payments?”  Ethel agreed to the smaller lump sum, which was still more money than she had ever had in her life.  Soon the employee returned, handed Ethel her identifications cards with confirmation that her winnings had been wired to her bank.

Alice, Joe, Jake, and Ethel were the last to pick up their prescriptions and climb aboard the Megabus.  After arriving back in the United States, and all 81 passengers got off and dispersed in different directions, the Megabus pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the street.  Ethel looked at the moon, said goodnight to her friends, and calmly strolled home anxious to see her beloved cat, “Mr. Lucky.”

My Foundations

Wild Baby Bird Rescue and Windsong Wildlife Refuge.  Both foundations are incorporated in the state of Oklahoma.  This is a short video made a few years ago of some of the wildlife I have had the privilege of helping:    http://animoto.com/play/7dUDV00PDNsc40MwvliYUg