Date: Sun, 21 Jun 2009 11:01:23 -0700 (PDT) From: Joe Parker Subject: I THINK I'M IN TROUBLE Chapter 20 I THINK I'M IN TROUBLE Chapter XX Oh, the West Virginia hills! I must bid you now adieu. In my home beyond the mountains I shall ever dream of you; In the evening time of life, If my Father only wills, I shall still behold the vision Of those West Virginia hills. (State Song) A cold hard rain pours down all across the state, and in Maxson County, a grieving town prepares to lay to rest its most beloved citizen. Lightning flashes across the blue/black skies as the wind screams through the mountains like a thousand midnight harpies. The day dawned dark and bitter, a palpable sense of foreboding emanating from within the dense rustling trees. Deadman's creek runs especially sour today... long dark shadows overhanging its tortured course like funerary crepe. Vast as it is, the grand ballroom of the Maxson Estate is packed like a can of sardines. Mourners fill the two balcony levels above as well as the ballroom below... which is temporarily covered today with midnight-blue carpet. Six imperial crystal chandeliers speckle the room in a blaze of prismatic rainbow light... while the original Tiffany-designed vaulted ceiling is obscured by an ozone-type haze. The air conditioning struggles mightily to equalize the charged atmosphere caused by the presence of so many bodies and the strange electric fervor that accompanies them. Those who look carefully can see the ceiling is cast into a cameo relief of the heavenly constellations as they are seen from the West Virginian skies at night. ORDER OF SERVICE 11:00 a.m. THE NATIONAL ANTHEM The West Virginia Mountaineer Marching Band THE STATE SONG OF WEST VIRGINIA Marie Alice Smith OPENING PRAYER The Reverend Marshall Garfield HYMN The Old Rugged Cross WELCOME Presiding Minister - Mr. Henry Taylor HYMN Precious Lord, Take My Hand PRESENTATION The Life of Carol Haydon-Garfield CELEBRATION 525600 minutes Garfield High School Glee Club EULOGY Mr. Ryan Maxson HYMN I'll Fly Away BENEDICTION Presiding Minister - Mr Henry Taylor CLOSING PRAYER The Lord's Prayer PROCESSION Amazing Grace * * * At the conclusion of the service, the Garfield and Maxson families invite you to join them for full refreshments in the Grand Dining venues and Reception rooms of the Eastern and Western Wings on the Ground Floor. Thank you for attending today. At 11:00 a.m. sharp, the clock-tower chimes, and according to Miss Carol's exact specifications, the rat-a-tat-tat of several snare drums alerts everyone that the service is about to commence. The room at first grows quiet... and then begins to rise as a color-guard bearing the national and state flags marches from the back of the hall to the front where the flags are raised high above the gathering. Again... according to the old lady's wishes. The drums cease, and then a prelude sounds before National Anthem of the United States of America is played by the University Band of West Virginia. As the anthem proper commences, those gathered to pay their respects lend their voices to the fanfare and circumstance of the First Song of the Republic. Then, as the members of the band take their place to the far left below the stage, Marie Smith, a Senior from the high school comes to the stage podium and, in her beautiful contralto voice, begins the State Song of West Virginia... accompanied only by the flautists from the marching band. A mighty rendition is offered up as nearly two-thousand souls pay homage to their beloved state. Shortly after, a prayer is offered up by the Reverend Marshall Garfield, Miss Carol's eldest grandchild. And then the first hymn is sung a cappella. The shuffle of expensive laminated vellum is heard as hundreds upon hundreds of hands open their special programs to follow the words of the old hymn... led by the booming voice of Miss Carol's grand nephew, Mr. Maurice Haydon. The gathering rises up yet again with one magnificent voice, the sweet strains of beautiful Appalachian bluegrass harmony greeting and mixing perfectly with the spectacular power and feeling of the full complement of Miss Carol's blood family and relatives. At the front of the hall rests an enormous mahogany casket borne upon a blue velvet covered catafalque. The casket is now closed after laying open these past few days. Her feet face the congregation... her head resting close to the great stained glass window behind. The huge colored-crystal mural depicts two men walking together out of a mine... one carrying a silvery pick, the other bearing a golden lantern. One man is black... the other white. Positioned upon the four-foot tall band stage are four giant unbleached candles made from the wax of the Moroccan desert bee. They stand sentinel guard at each corner of the ornate coffin... which, raised up high, dominates the stage and is clearly seen by all. In attendance, seated to her left, are her family. They are nearly a hundred strong... having gathered mostly from California, Georgia and Louisiana. To her right, sit the Maxsons and their special guests, the Jarrows of Kentucky, and the Griersens of Forkridge. Alongside them are the Governor and First Lady, the County Comptroller, and various other state and county officials. Also present are the town's Mayor and his wife, the Sherriff and his wife, and other civic and church leaders. Next to the Sherriff, are the State Commissioner for Education and all three local school Principals... including the current, and one former, Principal of Garfield High School. Seated below in the auditorium are the entire staff of Garfield High... teachers, janitors, kitchen staff, the lot. Finally, a delegation of C&E Maxsonite senior executives and trustees are present... including two of the family's senior lawyers... Ryan's old friend, John Phillps, and Jessica's father, Cy Thomas. Outside of the Maxsons themselves, the Garfield family controls the biggest stake in the vast privately-held corporate empire. Immediately below the stage are the local townspeople who knew and loved Miss Carol best and longest. Her doctors, senior household staff, and other elderly personages who knew Carol for many decades. Beside her mother sits Jessica, and with their parents are Mark, Beth and Sue. Junior and Lenore Rivera sit next to Betsy-Lee Meredith-Lee and her family. To their right is Mark's `supposed' girlfriend, Kim Cross, and her mother. The Rivera kids' parents are up on the stage. Elroy Haydon, accompanied by his beautiful girlfriend, Tina, is also seated with his Garfield cousins. And to the right of Kim is Ms. Aimee Kohl... seated in her wheelchair alongside various other media representatives. Her camera in her lap. There is also a local TV crew and several other journalists who have been given permission to photograph and record the occasion for posterity. The Maxson family have hired the production company of famed Hollywood director, Jared Friedreische, to provide official footage and other technical expertise for the service. Jacob Maxson, for one, is unhappy with some of these details... not so much the production company, but definitely the news crews... and especially Aimee Kohl. Incredibly, he will keep his thoughts to himself today. Mr. Henry Taylor spends a surprisingly short time welcoming everybody to the final memorial service for Miss Carol. He does the formalities of welcoming the Governor and First Lady, and all the officials and dignitaries, to the mighty Maxson Eyrie on behalf of the Maxson and Garfield families. He spends a short moment in Proverbs 25... describing how Miss Carol's words and deeds, her whole life, were dedicated to the service of others... like `Apples of gold in settings of silver. Six minutes later, the hall rises again to sing the next hymn, `Precious Lord, Take My Hand,' a moving spiritual song which is sung at most black funerals. The Garfield family is in full flight as the majesty and power of their combined voices rise up to lead the gathering... once again conducted by Elroy's father, Mr. Maurice Haydon. Many people begin to struggle with their emotions as the song comes to an end. Their souls are uplifted... yet their hearts are still heavy with the rawness of loss and the uncertainty that accompanies the end of a truly illustrious and long-lived era in the history of their little town. The people are seated again as the massive chandeliers darken and the room goes silent. A giant white projector screen unfurls from the shadowy heights to drape the beautiful stained glass window behind. Then begins a moving and marvelous film tribute to the life of Miss Carol. The gentle, silvery and cultured voice of Alicia Maxson slips out across the way as she describes the life and times of Miss Carol Haydon-Garfield. ****** ::: Image of Miss Carol walking in the Summer Garden with Alicia Maxson. ::: Voiceover of Alicia Maxson: Hello... one could be forgiven for getting the impression that the following presentation is full of tragedy and sorrow. Please know that Miss Carol Garfield lived the most abundantly happy life of anyone I have ever known. She would want you to know that the longer you live, the more you experience... good, bad, challenging and... if you figure it all out... ultimately rewarding. Indeed, Carol lived the abundant life." ::: Images of a President, a King, a fire and the Olympic Games in St Louis. It was 1904... Theodore Roosevelt was President, Edward the VII, son of Queen Victoria, was King, Baltimore City had burned to the ground, and both the World's Fair and the Olympic Games had come to St Louis. In a little shack hidden back beyond the massive edifice of the as-yet-unfinished Maxson Eyrie, a little girl was born. Carol Georgina Garfield was born on May 24th 1904 to Thomas and Peta-Gaye Garfield. They named her Carol for no other reason than that they liked the name. ::: Images of an incomplete Bell Tower flicker across the screen followed by a photo of a little shack with a man and woman standing proudly in front of it. Thomas was the great grandson of old Coalface Garfield, the erstwhile associate of the first Jacob Maxson, and builder of the first high school in Forkridge. Their family had arrived in the North with other black families as runaway slaves from Louisiana back in 1807. Thomas was a builder and a miner who spent most of his days working on the construction of the mansion that houses you this day. Carol's mother was often ill, and as soon as she was weaned, Thomas began taking his daughter to work in an apple basket to allow his beloved wife to rest. ::: Oldest known photo of a two-year-old Carol sleeping in an apple box. ::: Images of Maybelle, aged four, and Augustus, aged six, playing in the dirt. Time would go by, and eventually Carol would be joined by a younger sister, Maybelle, in 1910, and little brother, Augustus, in 1913. There had been four miscarriages in between. Peta-Gay was further weakened after each birth and was virtually bedridden by 1915. In 1916, Peta-Gay Garfield would die from pneumonia and the little family would be left to cope on their own. Little Carol was now twelve. Thomas would never really recover from the loss of his beloved wife, and in many ways became yet another charge for Carol to take care of. In truth, a six year old Carol had been raising her sister, Maybelle, virtually from the cradle. And when Augustus arrived, she raised him too. Like all the workers, she kept a good garden and a milk cow... relying on the Maxsons for other sundry items. Years later, she would write in her journal that something did not sit right with her concerning, 1) the lifestyle of the Maxson's, and 2) the near-poverty of the Garfields and other families who served them. She had long been told that her great-great-grandfather was seen by old man Maxson as an associate... but yet, here they were... barely subsisting. At the death of old man Maxson, his son, John-William Maxson, showed little interest in making good on the supposed bond that existed between the two families... though he was happy to trade upon the legend of the Maxson-Garfield link. ::: Portraits of the former Maxson scions The next Maxson scion after him did much the same, and even though he incorporated the legend into the architecture and artisanship of the Estate buildings and monuments, he declined to do likewise for the descendants of the man who brought his great-grandfather safely out from imminent destruction. This issue would be raised by Miss Carol in years to come. Unlike many of the other local children, Carol never really had the opportunity to be properly schooled. She went to elementary school when she could... and basically taught herself to read. Her days were filled with raising her siblings, nursing her mother, and attending to her father. As the years rolled by, her own lack of schooling would cause her to campaign ferociously for the rights of others... both children and adults... to receive a decent education. Carol would later be given further instruction in numbers and letters by Mrs. Adelaide Conway-Maxson. Her distinctive Creole/Appalachian dialect would remain with her all the days of her life... irrespective of the elocution lessons she was enlisted in. Almost all of Carol's younger years were taken up with caring for her mother and younger siblings. She would never attend her grandfather's high school. This is something I always found profoundly sad and ironic considering how important secondary education was to Carol's forbears... and later on to the lady herself. ::: Photograph of the original large wooden shack that comprised the first high school in the county. Double tragedy would strike the little family in 1919. Young Maybelle and Augie would succumb to the horrible Influenza Pandemic that would spread all over the world claiming countless victims. The fever would also claim the lives of William Maxson and his wife, Juliet. Great change was coming to the mountaintop estate. One day in late 1919, John Jacob Maxson, the young heir to the Maxson fortune, returned home to live with his new bride. Carol's life was about to take a turn for the better. Adelaide Conway-Maxson, the new `Lady of the Manor,' would approach the sixteen-year-old Carol and ask her to become employed as her personal maid. A somewhat dubious Carol would agree, and from that point on, would begin to learn all the ins and outs of attending to the wife of the scion of Maxson Eyrie. ::: Photograph of John Jacob and Adelaide Maxson. ::: Photograph of Carol in her cadet blue maids uniform. ::: Images of all the Maxson heirs down to Jake. Adelaide and Carol would become the closest of friends, and through the unfolding years, Adelaide would ensure that Carol would learn to read, write and count properly, balance the household ledgers, administrate staff, cook, sew, craft, and clean... often teaching her these things herself, sometimes seconding these tasks to other household employees. Carol also taught Adelaide many things in exchange... the least of which were her own Creole and Cajun recipes passed down by her beloved mother, Peta-Gay Garfield. Carol soon became highly skilled in running the household, and in 1924 she became Head of Household Staff... a position she would hold until the year 2000, a job spanning seventy-six years. She was eligible to retire in 1970 but had no desire to. Just days after turning ninety-six, she would finally release the reins of office to Mr. Herschel Williamson, the current Head of Household Staff. She would joke at her farewell dinner that she had finally been forced into what she considered an early retirement by a young tyro named Jacob Maxson II. ::: Crowd laughter In 1927, my husband, Hale-William Maxson, was born. Miss Carol would become nanny to him and almost every Maxson child from Hale-William to my own three sons, several of their children, and all the way down to my last grandson, Jake, sitting here today... hopefully behaving himself. ::: Crowd laughter Miss Carol wasn't all work and no play however. She took up some more leisurely vocations. She learned to ride... a pastime she would grow to adore. She learned to play tennis, and was counted as one of the finest shotgun target shooters in the county. ::: Images of Miss Carol riding a fine horse alongside Miss Adelaide. ::: Photograph of Miss Carol playing tennis. We need to go back to 1928 because that was the year Miss Carol met a hard-working miner, farrier and itinerant preacher named Clovis Haydon. They met when he came to help the stable-master re-shoe John Jacob's prize stallion, Flash (the first). She wrote that she was taken by his white teeth, strong back and deft hands. They began courting and were married that very same year. ::: Wedding Photographs The very next year, she conceived, and their only child was brought into the world. They would name him Cedric Augustus Haydon after his uncles on both sides whose lives were lost to the Influenza Pandemic of 1919. Hale-William Maxson and Miss Carol's son, Cedric, would grow up to be best friends. Meanwhile, Clovis continued to labor in the mines, and Carol worked at her household duties. ::: Baby and infant film footage of Cedric. ::: Footage of Hale and Cedric through the 1930's and 1940's. The next major milestone we look at occurred in 1950 when John Jacob Maxson signed documents to give the Garfield lineage its due, recognizing in full the sacred bond that existed between the two families. He would sign two percent of the total holdings and stake assets of C&E Maxsonite over to Carol Garfield-Haydon. This decision was seen as extremely controversial at the time, but to those who knew the intertwined story of the two families, it was more than right. Two percent of the Maxson Group of Companies would amount to more than forty million dollars at the time. Carol and her husband would immediately set to work bettering the lives of their relatives, and Carol would take over full financial patronage of Garfield High School... which up until that time had been supported by the Maxsons. Clovis would cease working in the mines and take up full-time preaching, but Carole would remain in her job as Head of Household. By this time, she had dwelled in her own quarters on the 4th floor of the Eyrie for nearly twenty years. She and her husband would remain there and raise their son there. ::: Film footage of John Jacob Maxson working at his desk aged 59. ::: Photograph of Garfield High Circa 1950 - a large brick building. ::: Film footage of Garfield High 1959 - with double gymnasium, new library, mechanical workshops, athletics track, football fields and auditorium. ::: Film footage of a 50 year old Carol sitting in the solarium of her apartment gazing out across the manse through a pair of brass ladies'-sized binoculars. In 1970, Carol's beloved Clovis would pass away from complications due to black lung fever... a disease he had picked up while working in the mines. They had been together just over forty-one years. Miss Carol was sixty-six. She would mourn deeply. Cedric, now aged forty-one, was given permission to return from Vietnam for the funeral. Cedric, now an officer, had been in the United States Army for twenty-one years. ::: Film footage of a long train of limousines driving down Maxson Mountain. ::: Photograph of the Garfield Mausoleum as it receives its first internment. Previously, in 1952, Cedric married Miss Dee-Dee Robinson, a school teacher from Georgia. He would go on to forge a career for himself in the US Army, and his young family would move frequently before finally being able to settle in California. They would visit Miss Carol and the Maxsons several times a year. ::: Wedding footage of Cedric's Wedding in the Ballroom. ::: Cedric with his best man and best friend, Hale Maxson. ::: Cedric in uniform. ::: Miss Carol with her first grandchild, Marshall Garfield. In 1980, just weeks before his death, John Jacob Maxson would grant one more financial benefit to the Garfield clan. He would recompense more than one-hundred years of dividends in accordance with the original Jacob Maxson's promise to honor and take care of the descendants of Coalface Garfield forever. Old Coalface Garfield had saved Jacob Maxson's life when he warned him and pulled him out of a seemingly stable mine just seconds before it collapsed. Jacob would go on to build the fabulous Maxson fortune, but he would by and large forget about the promise he made to his loyal companion, Coalface Garfield. Years later, John Jacob would rectify this situation. Miss Carol's oldest friend, Adelaide Maxson, would die within a year of John Jacob... sending Carol into mourning. Attempting to succor his mother, Cedric would return for weeks at a time from the military career and family life he had made for himself out in far-away California. ::: Film footage of an eighty-nine-year-old John Jacob giving a portfolio to a seventy-six-year-old Miss Carol. ::: Film footage of the funeral of John Jacob Maxson and later Adelaide Maxson conducted in the Grand Ballroom. Throughout this time, grandchildren had been flowing into the life of Miss Carol giving her much delight and joy. They would be sent out to spend vacation time with her, and at this date, she has two grandchildren, five great-grandchildren and two great-great-grandchildren. Carol lost her only child, Cedric, in 1986 to an automobile accident. To be honest, I had my doubts she would ever recover. But her resilience shone through in the end, and she slowly but surely returned to the business of life. Since then, it has been a lovely and gentle twenty-two years for Miss Carol... and well deserved too. We've taken every opportunity to celebrate her and treasure her as the years have passed. And we also took great care to document and preserve as many of her memories, knowledge and expertise as possible. One thing we will miss dearly will be her vast and incredible wisdom. Carol was the smartest, shrewdest wisest woman I have ever known, and if I could even begin to grasp the hem of her garment of wisdom, then I would be touching paradise. After retiring in the year 2000, I'm sure some of you remember that celebration only too well, and some of you don't... even though you were there. After her retirement, Miss Carol finally began to settle down, she still spent a great deal of time seeing to my grandson, Jake, and it's fortunate she did retire since he has turned out to be more than a handful. Other than that, she devoted herself to writing her memoirs, receiving visitors, and keeping a close eye on all the happenings both here at the Eyrie and down in the valley below. ::: Miss Carol at High School Graduation Day. ::: Miss Carol at Church. ::: Miss Carol glaring at a thirteen-year-old Jake. Her great faith and, dare I say it, astounding supernatural gifts will leave us at an incredible disadvantage in these days which present many dark difficulties for our little town... especially in the past few days. If there is one thing I would encourage you all to do if you truly wish to honor Miss Carol's life and memory... it would be to reach out. Reach out to the people in your life, the people you work with, and strangers. Get to know people on more than just a superficial level, and do not judge people by what they lack, or by what afflicts them. Let your thoughts of others be based upon how you would like to be thought of yourself. ::: Filmed image of Miss Carol enjoying a fine dinner with the Jarrows and the Sherriff. ::: Filmed image of Miss Carol sitting in her rocking chair with two little children sleeping in her arms. I will close by paraphrasing from her favorite book. If you want to be honored, be honorable. If you truly wish to come first, place yourself last. If you seek to have everlasting treasure, store it up in Heaven where neither rust nor insect will spoil it. If you wish to be a leader, then serve. Our thoughts are with her beloved family and all those who knew and loved her. CAROL GEORGINA GARFIELD 1904-2008 ****** The gathering rises to its feet. Thunderous applause rings out through the hall and goes on for many long minutes as the screen shows final images of a resplendent Miss Carol dancing at a Maxson family ball with her beloved Clovis... and then with her cherished son, Cedric. The images fade slowly to the soft waltzing music of Sinatra crooning an old Irving Berlin classic. I'll be loving you, always, With a love that's true, always. When the things you've planned, Need a helping hand, I will understand, always, Always... Days may not be fair, always, That's when I'll be there, always. Not for just an hour, Not for just a day, Not for just a year, But always. The applause continues, and people finally take their seats again as the screen lifts, and the hall is only slightly lightened again by the rainbow light filtering lazily through the great glass mural beyond. A line of spotlights illuminates the front of the stage as a group of ten Garfield High students take up positions and begin to sing. People quickly check their service programs in the gloom... wanting to know what is about to unfold. CELEBRATION — 525600 MINUTES — GARFIELD HIGH GLEE CLUB The people seated on the stage are behind the performers, and four one-hundred-inch flat screen TVs have been furnished to enable them to easily view the performance, two to each side. Jake Maxson is surprised to see Felix has sneaked out and is now standing on the stage singing with the Glee Club. Music begins to play through the sound system and the performers begin to sing. 525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life? How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love. 525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes - how can you measure the life of a woman or man? In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or the way that she died. It's time now to sing out, though the story never ends let's celebrate - remember a year in the life of friends. Remember the love! Remember the love! Remember the love! Measure in love. Seasons of love! Seasons of love. The lights go down, and this time the applause is lighter, happier and refreshed. Now comes the final segment of the service... the Eulogy. RYAN ::: Cameras flash as he walks to the podium. "You're probably wondering why I'm giving the eulogy today. Well, frankly... so am I. There are several far more capable individuals who could be, SHOULD be, giving this ribute. Mr. Henry Taylor could be standing up here right now. After all, his name was on the original draft of the Service... which I now know was a ruse. Miss Carol's daughter-in-law, Delia... Dee Dee... said the emotion would be just too much for her, and I accept that. My father or mother are much better suited than I am. But in typical, unfathomable Miss Carol style, Miss Dee Dee has declared that it should be me giving her mother's eulogy here today. So here I am, and if you are rather dubious... and I wouldn't blame you... you can take it up with her if you dare. And while you're at it, say a few choice words for me as well. I only found out about this last night. They didn't want to tell me too early for fear I would panic and head for the hills. Miss Dee Dee told me that if I did not accept the privilege of eulogizing Miss Carol, then she would have no eulogy at all. I've overcome my fear and reluctance to stand before you in public once again today... such is my love for this woman... and I have to thank her because I think this is her last great gift to me. This is the first time I've spoken in public for seventeen years. Can you imagine that? Thank you, Miss Carol, because you have once again enabled me to overcome yet another challenge in my life. It's just amazing. YOU are just amazing. ::: Applause Thank you. I can only speak for her family and mine, but I'm sure they would all agree that Miss Carol is the greatest woman we've ever known. My beloved mother is the greatest lady I know, but Miss Carol is the greatest woman... we... and that includes my mother... have ever known. I hope you understand what I mean. I'm sorry if I'm not making sense. It's so strange to be finally standing here able to say whatever I wish about `The old lady' without having to fear cruel and unusual punishment. ::: Massive thunder clap outside Uhhh... perhaps I was a little premature with that statement. ::: Much laughter Today is the day. I'd been steeling myself against this day for a long time, but now it is here. Today, our incredible, indestructible, beautiful Miss Carol will be departing forever. I don't have any real words to communicate the depth of grief and pain this event will enact upon my family and myself. But I'm going to try. I think of her family, her beloved husband, Clovis Haydon, long lost to us back in 1970. I think of her precious son, Uncle Cedric, taken from us by an automobile accident in1986. I think of my father who was half-raised by Miss Carol. His own mother... my grandmother... came to consider Carol her greatest friend. And then there is my mother. Mother came out here from the rarified circles of Washington, DC, and she didn't know what to expect. She was afraid. But, instead of unknown fears, what she encountered was a woman who would guide and shape the rest of her life... giving true purpose, drive and vision to her already-prodigious social expertise. More than this, Miss Carol unlocked the home-making instincts within mother... giving my father an incredible marriage. And thus it was that my brothers and I were rewarded with loving parents and a wonderful childhood. I think of my brothers and myself who worshipped the ground she walked on. Long after she should have retired, Miss Carol persisted in drilling into our knuckle heads the ideals and concepts that would help make us more than just trust-fund rich kids. She would impart to us a belief system that there was always somebody better than us... and above all... the Almighty. Again and again, she'd point out to us that, regardless of the challenges any of us may encounter in our life, we should always consider that there are those whose lots are better than ours... and also, most assuredly, there are those whose lots are much worse. In my life, I've failed many times. And worse... I've caused failure in others. But I'm humbled to think that this simple teaching has saved me from completely losing the belief that I can change my destiny. She taught us about hope. `Perspective of self and situation,' she used to say. How true. How right she was... and still is. I think of my boy... who adored her. As you know, he lost his mother too early to ever really know her... and I retreated into a world where I made out as if she had never existed. But Miss Carol was always there for both of us, for all of us. Miss Carol is like a marine. Miss Carol leaves nobody behind. Well into her eighth decade, twenty years beyond retirement, she never even looked like quitting. Jake was always a fiery handful and chock full of his own sense of identity and purpose. But Miss Carol's uncompromising, experienced, firm... and by equal measure loving... hands guided, and sometimes spanked, my son into a young man. Although he was always very self-absorbed, to some degree... we can thank Miss Carol for the fact that Jake also retains a strong sense of justice for all and genuine goodness... most of the time. ::: Coughs and laughter ::: Cameras flash again... trained on Jake as well as Ryan Yes, there was a spectacular supernatural element to the old lady, but it is not that which I will miss most of all. We will all suffer in the vacuum of having lost access to her unbelievably vast experience... an experience that was always touched with a mercurial, playful sense of humor. There is an old saying that there is no substitute for experience. How true that is. Miss Carol was indeed from another time, another world, and the way she approached and looked at things was quite often almost alien to us. I really came to respect, and even love, the fact that she never pandered to us Maxsons. She once caught my brother, Mike, calling her "Reality Check Carol" under his breath. We never really thought it was a baaaad insult, per se, but she took him aside, and he was switched hard and told never to demean himself like that again. The way she saw it, he wasn't hurting her... but only himself. Gross over-reaction? Possibly. But, you know, to this day, he speaks of that moment with tears in his eyes. You were allowed to mess with Miss Carol, but you were not allowed to complain about the consequences of doing so. In a nutshell... NEVER mess with Miss Carol. ::: Rueful laughter from various areas of the hall And at last, Ryan's voice begins to crack... his eyes awash with tears he can no longer restrain, his chest heaving, head shaking. The first huge sob shakes moisture down from his long sooty lashes and onto the pristine white paper of his speech. The inky black words begin to run. ::: Cameras whir and click Finally... I-I-I... w-would l-like to c-close with the words of the B-Book of Matthew, Chapter 25, verse 23. Ryan looks behind him seeking support. His Mother nods gently, and across the way, Miss Dee Dee... now the undisputed Matriarch of the Garfield-Hayd clan speaks to Ryan encouragingly... "You got it, honey. You preach it for our Mama!" says Miss Dee Dee. Ryan takes a deep breath and begins to quote the ancient scripture. `His... Lord... said... Unto... him, `Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' I do believe, she has already heard these words. Mrs... Mrs. Carol Haydon-Garfield... Wife, Mother, Grandmother many times over, faithful servant until the very end." Shouts of AMEN! trumpet like a clarion call the length of the hall. ::: Cameras whir and flash throughout *** The applause begins from the back and rushes like wildfire through the vast hall to the front. Spontaneous cheering, inaudible words of shouted gratitude, anguish, grief, celebration and love for their most beloved treasure. It takes many minutes before the programs can finally be opened again. Then a thunderous rendition of the old standard, `I'll fly away,' is sung through seven times before ending with a mass `AMEN.' Finally, old Henry Taylor hobbles up to the lectern, and, in the tradition of Aaron of the Old Testament, he raises his hands palms facing outwards. Women begin to sob, and Miss Dee Dee starts to wail pitifully as the service nears its end. Henry raises his deep bass voice and begins to chant. "The LORD bless thee, and keep thee: The LORD make His face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The LORD lift up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. May the peace of the LORD be with you always!" "And with you." The response is heard over a cacophony of rising sound and anxious energy. "Brethren, Brethren hear me now!" booms Mr. Taylor. The din dissipates, and Mr. Taylor swiftly moves on to the next stage before the crowd's agitation rises again. "Let us pray." Suddenly, there is silence and calm. And then, with one voice, the congregation unites to recite the foundation prayer of all believers. "Our Father, which art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. "AMEN!" A lone female voice from within the ranks of the Garfields begins to sing with great feeling and power. And her song is taken up mightily by the gathering. "Amazing Grace how sweet the sound...." Wailing, sobbing and crying begins as four Garfield men and four Maxson men move into place and lift the great coffin high and onto their shoulders. Linking their arms around one another as they have been instructed, shortest to the front, tallest at the back. Carefully, lovingly, heads resting flush against the casket, they navigate the seven wide steps that lead down into the auditorium proper. Voices cry out blessings and anguished declarations as the cortege slowly begins to wend its way toward the great oaken doors at the front of the cavernous ballroom. The principal mourners leave the stage and follow behind the funeral cortege. The old Christian hymn breaks over the grief-stricken mass like a wave. Cameras click and clack with abandon now. Some people hold phone-cams above their heads trying to capture final images. As she passes through the oaken exit towards the Great West Door, two lines are formed on either side of the massive atrium that comprises the main hallway. Two lines of house and ground staff... nearly a hundred strong... current, former and retired. The Head Chef, cooks, cleaners, gardeners, maintenance men, the Stablemaster, the Estate Administrator, clerical staff, the Estate Physician and nurse, Head of Security and security personnel... all touching her coffin and bobbing their heads as she goes. From the least of them to the greatest of them, they are lined up and standing at the doorway. Mr. and Mrs. Herschel Williamson... the Head of Household and his wife, the Estate Matron. As Chief Butler and incumbent most senior staff member, it is he who opens the superbly-weighted sixteen-foot tall Western arched doors... as is his right. He and his wife bow low as the old lady takes her final leave of the house she ruled over since before anybody else present was born. A long black Rolls-Royce hearse awaits her at the bottom of the flag-stoned blue marble steps beneath the shadow of the Grand Portico. The foul weather buffets and pummels the massive edifice of the Eyrie. Even under the relative shelter of the Grand Portico verandah, the wind manages to send spray and hale chips at whoever is unfortunate enough to bear its icy touch. Thunder rumbles in the South, and the old North wind makes its presence known. For just a few moments, they turn her to gaze upon her beloved people one more time. Then her casket is placed in the hearse, and she is driven slowly around the circuit of the oval drive... slowing down one last time to allow a final `look' at her precious home. The ROTC color-guard have positioned themselves inside the Grand Archway and salute as she passes through. The hearse then glides down the mountain... trailed by a long line of limousines bearing her closest family and the Maxsons. After the Committal at the Garfield family mausoleum, they will return to join their guests in a great thanksgiving feast. The Governor has decided to remain for the latter events... seeing this as a good opportunity to mix and mingle. After all, it is an election year, and the Maxons mean serious campaign money and nationwide contacts. Other officials dial up their limousines and prepare to leave. The service lanes behind the mansion are filled with buses brought in from Charleston to taxi people up and down the mountain. Some buses begin to take up position as several groups of people start to queue for the trip back to town. But the vast majority will remain and up top... for various reasons. Some wish to share as much time with the Garfields and the Maxsons as they can... comforting and being comforted. Others are simply here for the occasion and to finally get a chance to view the astounding luxury of the legendary Maxson Estate. And still others simply do not belong here. The whole event has sickened and bored them to tears. AMIE KOHL Amie Kohl has to admit that she wasn't completely bored to distraction, but all that religious nonsense got a bit tedious and overblown... in her expert opinion. It WAS a fantastic opportunity to see the one-and-only Ryan Maxson in full flight earlier. And what a beautiful specimen he has turned out to be! Absolutely delicious. How wonderful it would be to get her hands on this beautiful creature. And then, there was his son, `Jacob.' How stunning, how exquisite he looked today attired in dark, tailored, Armani splendor. Oh, to have just one shot at the both of them together. She shivers with delight. These photographs will make her well over a quarter of a grand. Pity she won't be around much longer to enjoy it. But neither will Mr. Maxson nor his son. The wheelchair prop has always benefited her by getting her a `ringside' seat. It seems that nobody quite saw her little gaffe of standing up for a better angle of a tearful Ryan at the end. The hysteria and over-the-top grieving was such that not a soul noticed. Later on tonight, their final plans will commence. By the end of the weekend, this town will be holding multiple funerals. She looks to her friend Georgia talking quietly to a congressman. Georgia has a little visit to make shortly to the local hospital... and then later... yes later... yes, yes, yes. The naive little prince will come running into Mama's arms tonight. And she will never let him go. JESSICA I've never seen a miracle before, but I saw one today! And it left me totally cold and unimpressed. LENORE I think it's time to bury the ole hatchet with prissy lil' Jessica. It seems we have something in common. We both witnessed a most interesting little side show where the lame were made to walk. Oh, Miss Carol, you just keep bringing home the bacon. Copyright 2008, 2009 Joe Parker. All Rights Reserved.