Honoring a last request....
Some times in life....you just have to do the right thing, especially when asked
by a complete stranger. And so it was for this young man who purchased
an antique trunk at a road side sale. (This is a copy- writed story, and not
part of Tales Unleashed.) Enjoy the read....and be aware of that next
purchase you make along your way. SS
The Trunk ©
Daylight was quickly being extinguished as I pushed the car up
the county road that headed home. The sugar maples had dropped
at least half of their leaves…and they quickly gave way to the push
of the tires on the ’56 Ford. Oh that glorious Ford…pure steel and
heavy as a tank…a car you felt secure in…and you knew that it would
get you home thru almost any set of circumstances.
It was getting late in the day….the sun had just started to descend
behind the trees in the West as I made my way up a county road
that I had not driven in years… it was a little off the beaten path..
but who knows what treasures might be found around the next
corner.
Just yards ahead and to my right an old farm house came into
view, surrounded by broken down pines and a fence that looked
well in need of repair. The mailbox out front leaned dismally to
the left, looking much like the house itself which was crying
for some attention. A small sign tacked onto the mailbox
post simply said, “many items for sale…make an offer”.
I braked the Ford quickly as the car rolled up close to the
driveway…..a cloud of dust engulfing all within a few yards
of my approach.
I exited the car and strolled through the tall grass and walked
to a rickety lawn chair that sat in front of a pile of junk…well…
maybe the man’s treasures…you know the old saying.
His head perked up from what appeared to be a quick nap as
I approached and he said to me “Make an offer on anything
you might like…gotta git rid of some of this stuff before they
come and carry me away.” He took a swig from an old canteen
that looked like world war two vintage and re-looped it around
the front of the chair.
“Been collectin’ this stuff way too long now…and much of it
belonged to the Mrs… but she’s been gone now many years ..
so it’s time it’s out of here.”
My eye scanned from left to right, seeing not much of anything
I’d be interested in…but one item pulled me to it. The old
trunk had a bunch of other stuff piled on top of it.. and I
slowly removed the items…revealing what appeared to be a
very old trunk…you know the ones that your grandmother
kept in the attic with family heirlooms in.
I quickly released the trunk from it’s doomed position and
flattened it out on the long grass which really was in need
of mowing.
“I’ve got the key that goes to that trunk if you want to make
an offer.” My eyes quickly scanned the outside of the trunk…
it’s aged and cracked black covering hinted that it was at least
from the 1940’s…maybe before.
“What are you asking for it….just as it is…without me even
looking inside?” The old man sat up on the edge of his chair…
rubbing his bearded chin as if it was going to give him a number.
“Well young fellow….I’ll tell you…you give me $20.00 for it.. and
It’s yours. Don’t think you’ll find much in it…but I really haven’t
gone thru it stem to stern.”
“Deal” I blatted out quickly before he could change his mind.
As I lifted the trunk and headed to his position, I could see he
was getting a well worn key off his chain. As he handed it to me
I traded the key for a folded twenty that I had in my right pocket.
“Pleasure doing business with you” I said as I hurriedly headed for
the car…hoping he wouldn’t change his mind on the deal he had made.
As I drove away from the old house I had a sense that this
trunk was something special, but I had no idea why I would
think that.
I left the trunk in the car overnight as it was getting late and I
had encountered a long day, not including the stop at the old
man’s place. The next morning I arose early… I was anxious.
I placed the trunk on the kitchen table, looking it over very
carefully as I fixed my morning coffee and listened to the over
night news on the radio. There was something odd about this
trunk…it felt familiar, almost friendly….but I thought why should
that be? I’ve never owned trunk before… and had really never
looked at one..even in some of those fancy antique stores that
I’d been into over the years.
Yet, this trunk seemed inviting. I gave the latch and lock a quick
squirt of 3 in 1 oil and gently eased the old scratched key into place,
turning it ever so gently. Nothing. I exerted a little more force…and
within a couple of moments the latch gave a loud pop…and it sprang
at me…almost like a lion after a fresh piece of meat.
The ‘old smell’ hit me directly in the face as I gently lifted the top
of the trunk to its open position. My eyes glance quickly from right
to left trying to take a review of what was in front of me.
Old pictures to the left, stacked neatly by order of their size …
aged newspapers on the right… yellowed and tattered from being
prisoner in this dark and murky place that had no sunlight.
I removed all the contents gently, placing them on the table
nearby…..a small cloud of dust arose after each pile was
brought out into daylight. Interesting I thought. How long had
these items been in place… and why hadn’t the owner wanted to
take the time to sort them, keeping and throwing as he went.
But, it was not my concern, and I continued to handle the items…
curiously looking at each bundle as they came out.
The last picture at the bottom of the trunk was of a younger man…
looking to be in his twenties, in a military uniform appearing quite
handsome and robust. I removed the photograph with great care…
two of it’s corners were bent and nearly detached. Flipping the picture
over I read the following which had been printed in what appeared
to be pencil…although faded, it’s message was clear as if had been
written yesterday.
‘Dad…I wanted you to have this…it was snapped of me just
last week and I wanted to post it to you before we head to
Pearl Harbor next week. Hope you are well…love you lots…
take care of yourself.’ In an elegant written signature it was
signed ‘your devoted son William Garson. Nov. 27th, 1941.
I stopped for a moment…..thinking of the dates in my mind.
Had his father sold me the trunk not aware that this photo
was inside? Perhaps. Either way, it had to be returned.
I immediately sat my coffee down, grabbed my keys and
headed for the door, I wanted to return the picture to his
Dad…I’m assuming who was the man who sold it to me.
As I drove up that same dirt road… I glanced over at the
picture which sat in the seat next to me….what a handsome
young man this was, and I was sure his father would like the
picture returned.
A hundred yards out from the old man’s place I saw the blinking
lights of an ambulance parked out front…and immediately
behind it, a Sheriff’s car… it’s flashing lights also illuminating
the shadows of the new day now in progress.
I grabbed the photo and ran to the house just as the ambulance
crew with stretcher in hand made it’s way thru the tall grass.
The old man, pale but somewhat alert seemed to recognize me
as I approached. “Mr. Garson…. Mr. Garson….I’m sorry you
are not doing well today…but I need to ask you about this
photograph.”
He raised a hand to the attendants to halt them in his
removal as I positioned the photo within a foot or so
of his direct eye contact. His demeanor went to immediate
sadness as he recognized the picture displayed before him.
“That’s my son William….he was 20 years old…in the Army,
and was killed the morning they attacked Pearl. His mother
died 3 months later from a broken heart… I had forgotten
all about the picture… placed it in the trunk fifty years
ago…it was too painful to look at. Do me a favor young man?”
I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was so dry, no
words came out…only a nodding of my head in and up and
down movement. “I’ve got a bad ticker so they say…this might
be my last trip out of the house…will you make sure William’s
picture is buried with me?”
Again, I was speechless, and repeated the head nod in the
affirmative. A strong hand grabbed my left arm and the
attendant’s voice cracked with “ we have to go sir…he has
worsened greatly in the last few minutes.”
With that, they loaded the senior Garson in the back of the
ambulance and it sped away. I stood there, numb, looking for
someone I could speak with about his situation. I asked the
deputy that was there if Garson had any family, and he replied that
he did not…he had lived alone many decades since his wife
had passed away.
I took the picture, returned to the house and sat in the
Kitchen, gazing at the old trunk… and the story that it had
brought to me just twenty four hours ago.
For the next day or two I kept tabs on Mr. Garson and his
condition…knowing that if he did not come home..the promise
I had made to him regarding William’s picture would be kept.
I wasn’t family…. I never knew this man……not until yesterday,
but sometimes you just are thrust into a situation that happens
to you, and this was one of those.
I knew that soon I’d be placing that picture with Mr. Garson…
and that he and his son would be together again.
It was a tough week…but it was my destiny, and when called
upon I would complete the task.
