Complete Works of Stan Williams: Short Stories, Essays, and Poems

Complete Works of Stan Williams

Short Stories, Essays, and Poems

Stan Williams

ISBN 978-1-68517-073-8 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68517-075-2 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-68517-074-5 (digital)

Copyright © 2023 by Stan Williams

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Cousins

Introduction

Prologue

Foreword

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Why?

Papa Titus, a Life Remembered

The Making of Lake Lewis

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Mary's Love Story

Student Dies in Shark Attack

The Battle of White Creek Pass

Famous Last Words

Remembrances

Coming of Age

Janet's Hand

First Blood

Spring Fever

The Louisville Slugger Was a Farmer First

Mothers, Where Do They Come from?

Jane and Her Colt

A Friend Loveth at All Time

About the Author

The Cousins

Stan Williams

Dedication

This story is dedicated to all cousins, especially Rolly and Larry (my only male cousins) and Nell, Brenda, Barbara, and Mat, four of my wife's favorite cousins. To John and William Kerr without whom this story would not have been possible.

Finally, to the cousins who changed the world forever, Jesus and John.

First printed in the Advocate Vol 1, NO. 4—August 1991 by Ditto Publications, Phoenix, Arizona

Introduction

For he knoweth our frame: but he remembereth that we are dust.

—Psalm 103:14 (KJV)

If we are lucky enough to have parents with brothers and sisters and they were blessed with children, then we have cousins. Some we remember as great childhood friends, others we go through life hardly knowing them. If we are lucky, there is one or two who seem more like brothers or sisters than just cousins. This is a story of two cousins who did not know each other in this life but had lives that intertwined through fate and circumstances. It is a story of how war and their allegiances helped develop their personalities and led them to meet each other, unknowingly, and how the love of their country and family challenged their commitment to their beliefs and loyalties.

Prologue

Not long ago, while researching my family history, I came across an interesting box of letters and journals. They had been stored in the top of a closet at my maternal grandfather's home in San Jose, California. He had died and left the house to his brother, who at that time was living in a nursing home and could not physically live in the home. My cousins were living in Walnut Creek near San Francisco and would go down and care for the home and yard. The home was closed up for several years, and after my great uncle died, the cousins held an estate auction to clear some outstanding debt, and while clearing out the personal items, they came across a tattered leather pouch in an old boot box in the top of a closet. They knew that I was interested in genealogy, so they sent the box to me, hoping it would help to fill in some of the limbs on our family tree.

After reading the journal and letters, I was compelled to travel to New England to visit a graveyard located at an old Boston Congregational Church. A mist covered the area surrounding the church, and a thick growth of ivy-covered most of the large structure. It was like a scene from a Stephen King movie. The shabby, moss-covered graveyard had several fallen tree limbs covering the pathway, and many of the moss-covered markers were knocked over or broken.

Most of the readable stones were faded and worn from age and the years of cold, damp weather. However, in the ever-brightening daylight, peering between the early morning clouds, I was able to make out the names on most of the stones

I worked my way through several rows of headstones, stumbling over a fallen limb near a large elm tree, catching my balance on a crumbling limestone fence in the eastern corner of the yard. That is where I first noticed the name Kerr chiseled into the gray marble stone. The name John Kerr was very clear. He was my mother's great-great-great-grandfather. Next to him was an unexpected discovery, a stone, not in a very good state of wear, with the name William Kerr. There was a William Kerr listed as one of John's cousins, but as far as I was able to research, he was born in England and never lived in the Boston area. In fact, there was no record that the two cousins knew each other, as John was born in South Carolina. The family tradition was that these two cousins were not ever close enough to be buried next to each other. One was a rebel fighting for American independence and the other an English officer fighting to preserve the Crown's American colonies and quell the rebellion.

I began to wonder if these two Kerrs were the ancestors I was searching for. If I were right, then how did a soldier from England wind up buried next to a soldier from South Carolina in Boston?

Foreword

Our story begins, a long time ago, in a time of great world expansion by the superpowers of the seventeenth century. There were two brothers, who through the fate of circumstances, found themselves living on different continents, raising their sons, William and John Kerr, cousins by birth, enemies by choice.

These cousins would meet on the same battlefield called the Green. They would meet on the same misty spring morning, at the same hour, not more than one hundred yards apart. Neither would be aware of the other's presence. Both would speak the same language and be a witness to the first shot fired, the shot which was heard around the world. Both would be armed with the same kind of weapon: the Brown Bess. Who fired the first shot, they could not tell, neither could anyone else, but freedom was conceived on that damp April morning.

Both are buried in the same cemetery, side by side. Two young men with the same last name, the same grandfather, each having pledged their allegiance to different flags, both loved equally by their fathers—cousins, one English the other an American.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank all those who helped in the preparation, editing, historical research, and the many people who made suggestions for the storyline especially my gracious mother-in-law, Eunice Davis, who worked so hard on the final editing of the novella.

Chapter 1

Our story begins in November of 1770. The morning weather was typical for northwestern hills of the English Isles, cold and damp. A middle-aged man was pacing the floor of his cottage with his Vickers, awaiting the birth of his son. The birth certificate would note that it was November 6. Cries of his beloved can be heard above the noise of the coal mine's evening whistle. He could hear the other wives yelling out of their neighborhood windows, calling their coal-dust-covered men to dinner. Well, he thought, has it been that long, over six hours and still no child. He worried that there was a serious problem developing with the birth of this child. They had not planned a winter baby, and with the smelter going full bore, the smoke laid heavy over the already dirty little coal mining village northwest of London.

Many of the babies born in the late fall and early winter did not have much of a chance for survival. If the cold and damp weather did not kill them, the filthy air did. The men were being called back to work, after their dinner break, when the midwife opened the door. The expectant father, bent slightly from his years working in the mine, was still pacing; he turned to see whether the news would be good or bad. He said, How's me Lydie, Ms. Chadwick? She smiled, stepping aside as Mr. Kerr came toward the door. He continued, And me, babee?

'Tis a boy…an' ah fine one too, Mr. Kerr, she answered as she rolled her Rs as only a Scottish lass could do.

His wife was lying in their bed, smiling slightly, crying quietly, and holding the newest addition to the Kerr clan to her chest. His hair was long and black, and his little face was wrinkled and wet. Charles, he's a strong 'ne. Look at those broad, powerful hands. The conversation continued between the proud father and his tired, sleepy wife for a short time until the subject of a name came up.

James, I think is the 'ame he'll 'ave, Charles said, touching the little one's tiny forehead.

James it is, Anne answered as she fell asleep.

Two and a half years later, in March of 1703, the scene repeated, and the Kerr family produced another son. This time, the boy was named George. Shortly thereafter, the Kerr family moved to the northern part of the island country. They did it to get away from all the smoke and unstable politics of London. Charles went to work for his uncle and cousins who owned a large farm near the border with Scotland. In 1715, smallpox hit the area, and Charles's uncle and his only male cousin died, leaving him the farm. Both James and George were hard workers and could be found in the fields doing some kind of work almost as soon as they could walk.

The boys were in the fields from sunup until dark every day, but Sunday that is when their mother would see to it that they were in the front pew of the local Protestant church. They both grew to be strong, handsome men with good moral values and were extremely loyal to the Crown.

By the time the boys had reached manhood, Charles had expanded the family business to include an export company, which shipped farm goods, mostly fruit trees and grape vines, to the southern colonies, and wool-processing equipment to the New World.

The colonies needed much of England's wealth to sustain themselves while establishing their own farms and discovering their own natural resources.

In 1728, James met the woman with whom he'd share the rest of his life. Her name was Lydia Smyth. She was a few days past her twentieth birthday when they met. Her father had resigned himself to the fact that he had raised an old maid daughter and would have her in his house the rest of his life. That is, until James walked into her life and was swept off his feet. She was tall, broad-shouldered, and was considered more handsome than beautiful; however, James fell in love with her at first glance.

Lydia's father was so happy that he moved the newlyweds to his farm, into a new home he had built for himself. He told James it was the least he could do for having made his little girl so happy. Her father continued to live in the older and much smaller home, not regretting for one moment his decision.

There was a movement in the community to send all Catholics to the New World colonies, and both James and Lydia became involved in the process. At that time, there was a great deal of fighting among the Catholic and Church of England youth, both claiming that the area was only big enough for one of the groups. Since the Church of England was in power, it only made sense to James and his friends that the Catholics be the ones to go. It was preached in the local churches that both sides would benefit by having their own schools and neighborhoods. The separate but equal argument would surface many more times in the development of American and British history, always with the same disastrous results.

By 1736, the Kerr brothers' business had expanded to the point that it was necessary to open an office in the Americas. The brothers had to divert their attention from sending undesirable Catholics abroad along with their other exports to the finding suitable personnel to maintain an office for the company, thousands of miles away from the home base. Since George was yet unmarried, he became the logical choice to go to America to establish the branch office. After lengthy discussions among the family members, it was decided to send George to the Carolinas to establish a trading company with the local tobacco companies and with the local Indian tribes to export tobacco and Indian goods back to England, France, and Spain. This activity would increase the Kerr Company's import and export business two or threefold.

Within the year of moving to America, George met a lovely, young, dark-haired Indian girl. Water-Runs-Softly (an English translation of a word that George could not spell) was the daughter of one of the chiefs that he wanted to enter into a trading agreement with, so it wasn't long till George had a wife and a deal with the tribe to report to his father. They were married according to the local customs and then traveled to Charleston to be married at the Congregational church in the midtown area. George then went back to the Carolina forest and built him and his bride a cabin.

In 1744, James wrote his brother that he and his wife were going to have a baby, their tenth. George responded by telling James of his marriage and informed him that he too would be a father later that year, his fourth. Sadly, James's wife, Lydia, died during the birth of William on October 5, 1744.

Shortly thereafter, James moved to London with his surviving six children. He wanted to be closer to his business. He concluded that since his lover was gone, there was no longer a need to travel between the country and the city; he'd be able to concentrate more on the running of the business and less on family problems.

George wrote James that John Kerr was born on October 16, in a log cabin just outside of the village of Dry Creek near Charleston, South Carolina. A few weeks after the birth of John, George and Water-Runs-Softly moved into town to be nearer to his work at the wharf, cutting his daily commute time.

William spent his youth living on London's north side with his father and siblings. He gained favor with his father, as he was the child most interested in the family business. He spent many hours at his father's side learning the ways of the import and export business. He was also a good student at the local campus of Oxford's School for Boys.

William's part of London was full of blackened buildings, at least those not hidden in the constant fog. The thousands of coal-burning fires, which spewed their pollution into the foggy London sky, caused the smog and the darkened sky. It was hard to see the actual London skyline because of this messy condition. William often dreamed of the day when he could live in an area of the country where he could see more than a hundred yards and his lungs would not hurt to breathe. Fresh air seemed only a faraway dream.

In 1766, William married Anne Harris, the daughter of one of his father's export suppliers. They had met at a church meeting a few years before, and it was love at first sight. Anne was beautiful. She had eyes and hair of a deep brown hue. Her voice was low and throaty, unusual for a girl; she was sixteen.

William and Anne had two children, born only to die within days of their birth. The doctor said that it might have been because of the foul air and the dampness of the London weather. Shortly after the death of their second child, the Kerr family moved out of the city and settled in the farming village of Heathrow, which supplied many of the products that his father exported to the New World. About a year later, Caroline was born, and as an answer to their prayers, she lived. She was a beautiful girl, with her mother's hair and eyes. The next year, Anne gave birth to her fourth child, and they named her Joan, after Anne's favorite cousin who lived in Scotland.

William's father died in 1771 during the smallpox epidemic. It also took the life of his daughter Caroline and two close business associates. This caused an interruption in the import-export capability of the Kerr Company. George began to spend more time concentrating on the slave trade, which was built into a very profitable enterprise in the southern part of America. Because of this, he began spending less and less time working with the London office and became emotionally distant from his brother William. This caused William to lose interest, and he began to invest his money in other enterprises.

A friend told him of the Crown's plan to recruit learned men for the army; all he had to do was pay the Crown a certain fee, and he could be an officer. William joined the army by paying the Crown five hundred pounds for his rank of the second lieutenant. He was commissioned into the prestigious 23rd Foot. He also invested some of his money in his mother's farming operation, located in the English countryside along the northern border with Scotland. His agreement with his mother was outlined in a document recorded in the archives of the local Vickers's office. This agreement was for her to send money to him from time to time in order to support his family. As an officer, he would not be collecting any money from the Crown, so he had to support himself.

He could, however, keep his family with him. Whereas, only the enlisted men could bring their families with them, and only if they were of a certain rank. It also depended on the man's commander and which branch of service they belonged to at the time of deployment. The only drawback to the men, officers or enlisted, was that their wives and children had to endure the same hardships of location as their men. William, Anne, and their daughter, Joan, packed their belongings and made their plans to leave for their new assignment in New England. They were to leave in April of 1773.

William was issued his clothing a few days before their trip was to begin. He was now dressed as a British officer for the first time. His wife packed the rest of the issued uniforms in their trunk and marked it for shipping. Each officer was issued three shirts, two white linen socks, one pair of brass clasps for the officer's traditional long hair, three pair of white yam socks, one complete uniform, with extra spatter dashes and breeches, and two pairs of shoes.

Lieutenant William Kerr dressed in his new uniform to show it off to Anne. He hoped he would get it on right, as there were no printed instructions that came with the bag containing the issued clothing. He was glad that he would have an older sergeant with him to keep him out of trouble and to make sure that he acted like both an officer and a gentleman. Each officer wore white union breeches that had suspenders sewed on them like farmer's overalls. A small knee buckle clasped over, white hand-knit stockings that fit into a pair of heavy black linen leggings (spatterdashes up to his knees). Next came his white waistcoat, after which he put on a coat, the color of a redbrick, reaching just above his knees.

The coat was lined in white. The collar, lapels, and cuffs were faced in the royal blue of the 23rd Troop. He looked at himself in a mirror and thought, I should have made this change in my life a long time ago. And Anne looked up at her soldier and smiled. William knew that she agreed.

Chapter 2

The fog laid heavy over Plymouth as the British Navy prepared to load their ships for the New World. There was