Black, White, and RED All Over, part 3-- Ironwood Hamilton from #freewrite in an extended story!
Once again -- thank you, @freewritehouse for the adoption this week! Thus continues extra content -- part 3 of "Black, White, and Red All Over"!
Here are Part 1 and Part 2, but, if you are coming to this new, here's a quick summary: Captain Hamilton of Tinyville, VA and his fellow police officers in Lofton County have gotten two surprises: the emergence of the new and forthright paper *Lofton County Free Voice," and its Freedom of Information Act requests of records of the arrests of African Americans from all police departments in the county for the previous ten years. Lofton County and its police departments are perturbed, because there is some information most of Captain Hamilton's colleagues would rather not have the new paper digging into or receiving!
Captain Hamilton, however, keeps his own council, and does not share with his colleagues that he intends to honor the FOIA request -- yet at the same time, a colleague who is a cousin, and carries an even heavier personal burden, becomes ill after dinner, and so Captain Hamilton takes him into his home for the weekend.
Thus, in part 3, we will get to meet Captain Hamilton's family... just after the graphic below that I made to divide my summary from part 3...
Reveille was engraved upon the soul of a 23-year soldier – Major Ironwood Hamilton never slept past 5:00am, the bugle no longer necessary. It never had been. He had been getting up early for years before West Point, helping younger siblings get ready for school before getting himself to work and school and then home to do the chores at the house, cook, feed, bathe and help his siblings with homework, get them to bed, and then do his homework and work from home before going to bed …
Every day, he did a little check-in with himself. Was Mrs. Agnes Hamilton beside him? Yes. That meant he wasn't the dutiful eldest brother, filling in three years without any adult over him to raise three siblings. It also meant he wasn't waking up in Iraq or Bosnia or Afghanistan, or Iraq again. What color was the uniform he opened his eyes and saw with the little penlight upon it in the closet? Heather gray – all right, now he was oriented.
Captain Ironwood Hamilton of the police force of Tinyville, VA, carefully began to ease out of bed as always so as not to wake his wife, but she was awake and snaked her arms around him.
“You know what I hate?” she purred in his ear.
“What?” he said.
“The whole thought of you doing your isometric workout in the morning, your sinewy body just gleaming and fresh, and that you'll be dressed and out of here for hours and hours before you get that body back here to me …”
“Trying to make sure Ira and Agnew don't get to be the baby twins for long, eh?”
Captain Hamilton was 45, his wife 43. It was not likely that they would have another child, but they had said that when he was 43 and she was 41 ... and twins Ira and Agnew had come along the following year.
“Do you mind?”
“Not if you don't, Aggie...”
Nonetheless, the wife knew her husband's routines; she expected him to turn around and wrap his arms around her tightly, and roll over with her in bed for a few moments of passion before the roll was complete and he snapped out of bed from her side. He did not disappoint, and for a few moments they indulged the still-intense hunger between them that had produced 11 children in 23 years. Indeed, he snapped out of bed as she expected, but …
“Meet me in the shower at 5:45, and you'll get all the gleaming, steaming, and fresh you want before going back to bed quite happy.”
On through the house – since he was the only early Saturday riser, Captain Hamilton looked in on each of his children. Yearling twins Ira and Agnew were each still snoring away in their parents' bedroom, each reaching one adorable little hand out to hold the other's between their beds. Their elder sisters Ilene and Allison were also asleep in their room, curled up with their dolls and teddy bears. Their elder twin brothers Orson and Edward were also still asleep in their room, although as usual, the state of their beds suggested the adventures they were having in their dreams.
14-year-old Addison, eldest brother at home, had keen senses and was never happy on a summer Saturday when early light was trying to creep through the windows and his father's footsteps started through the house.
“Come on, Dad, it's Saturday,” he moaned as his father opened the door to his room.
“If I didn't hear you say that every week, my Saturday wouldn't start right.”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad....”
Eldest sisters at home, 16-year-old twins Agnes and Iris, were still in bed, but Iris, an early riser like her father, greeted him: “G'mornin', Dad.”
“G'mornin, Iris,” he said with a smile. “Just checking in.”
Home from college and happily away from the “madness” below with her attic perch: Adella, 19, still snoring away when her father climbed the ladder and peeked in on her.
And lastly, in the guestroom, also arisen to the internal reveille – was the guest for the weekend, Captain Henry Fitzhugh Lee of the Big Loft police department, known as Cousin Harry in the Hamilton family home. He was doing push-ups, alternating one hand with another.
“Top of the morning, Harry.”
“57! 58! Top of the morning – 59! 60!”
All was well in the Hamilton home; Captain Hamilton went through his Saturday workout and then returned to his bedroom and stopped for a moment to just enjoy the sound of running water and the pleasant effect that had on his hearing of his wife's singing voice in the master bathroom ... like a melody played on muted strings, affectionate and alluring. Both of those things appealed to Captain Hamilton, and had for 23 years. She was a wonderful soprano, and he enjoyed routinely helping her find her very highest notes...
6:15am – Captain Hamilton arrived in his kitchen to find Captain Lee doing what he did in the morning: he had put on strong coffee and was drinking it black while scanning the newspapers.
“You know, Harry, you're off on Saturdays, unlike me.”
“Sleep and weekends are overrated,” said Captain Lee. “I must say I was incredibly tempted, however – that bed in there is not for men trying to maintain evening and morning discipline. I arrived in it at 8:00pm, and I thought I would have time to read my Scriptures and go through my sleep routines. It was 5:00 before I knew what happened, and I was so comfortable I almost didn't get up.”
“Anything interesting in the news?”
“The sheriff's department is trying to work out who is responsible for an outbreak in cow-tipping.”
“Ah, summertime in rural Virginia.”
“So, what do small-time police forces do on Saturday, in addition with helping to catch cow-tippers and crop thieves?”
“Technically, we are on call for any needs across the county as supplemental to the county forces, as you are in Big Loft, but I personally prefer have the office phone forwarded to my cell phone for part of the shift, and get out into the town and see what is going on. Not today, though; I have been and will be office-bound, using the greater quiet of Saturday to deal with the matters that fall under that FOIA.”
Captain Lee drained his coffee cup.
“I suppose I could be more useful helping you than sitting around here.”
“Harry, it is all right for you to just enjoy the company of my family.”
“In my state of mind, it is not likely that they would enjoy my company.”
“Harry, where there's a will, there's a way.”
Captain Lee's grave face softened a little.
“Have you taken your blood pressure yet today, cousin?”
“Back at normal, thank you for asking.”
He paused a moment, then added, “Thank you, Ham, to you and your family. I am very grateful, although it is hard to see it because I am very troubled.”
“I get it, Harry. You know I understand.”
“I know you do,” he said. “I just can't feel it. It is like living in a glass prison; I can see where I want to be, but I can't touch it.”
“Yet,” Captain Hamilton.
Captain Lee's face brightened almost to the bud of a smile.
“Forever the optimist, Ham.”
“It is hard for you to remember it at these times, but you're not always like this, Harry, not even since the wars and JAG. The Lord will bring you out, and we'll be right here beside you while He is bringing. You know that.”
The smile at last budded, although it did not quite blossom.
“I do, Ham. I read in my favorites today – Psalms 23, 42, and 116 – and the Spirit of God encouraged me greatly. I am walking through that valley. I've been here before. I know I will come out, although I am weary of the journey. I know that He has carried me when necessary, like last night when He moved my cousin to get me out of Big Loft and then into his truck and then into that guestroom bed....”
He paused.
“I suppose I do feel a bit better.”
“The Lord does excellent work,” Captain Hamilton said. “Speaking of which: ten parts of the handiwork He has permitted my wife and I to contribute our DNA to will be in this kitchen in about two hours along with their mother. This is my day for kitchen patrol.”
“My morning cooking skills are limited beyond oatmeal,” said Captain Lee, “but I would be glad to assist you and learn.”
“I cook oatmeal on Sundays, with milk and molasses and cinnamon,” Captain Hamilton said, “and I have to keep Ira and Agnew from climbing into the pot.”
“If you still are using great-aunt Mildred's recipe, I would almost be willing to climb up into that pot with them.”
“The pot is big enough, and we would LOVE to see that, Harry – but we all know you are too neat for that.”
At last, the grimness was replaced by a soft smile.
“Just a little,” he said, “and besides, that would not be a good example for Ira and Agnew.”
“You can get kids to eat their veggies in the morning and love them – chop them up fresh and saute them in some good, fresh butter, and then add them to some eggs scrambled with sweet, fresh milk, salt, pepper, and a handful of good cheese. That and Agnes and the crew having foraged half a freezer full of ramps in the spring, and the other half of the freezer being poke already prepared and ready to cook at any time--.”
“Poke sallet and ramps on demand … that could make a sick man well!”
Captain Hamilton smiled.
“Why do you think I insisted that you come here? We get all the veggies that make a proper Virginian here, three times a day. It's easy to do and you'll love it all!”
The two police captains put on aprons and set to work – the man from Big Loft chopped and otherwise prepped and let the Tinyville native do the actual cooking. The volume alone was impressive: breakfast for at least 13, for as the captain explained, summers could be hard for some of the local families.
“While kids are in school there is free or reduced breakfast and lunch for them, but in this gap before the crops really start coming in, there are always families that are glad to know there is a safe place, on occasion at least, where a good meal is available. Myself and several members of the church I attend provide this ministry of hospitality to our neighbors; the door is always open, and there are always extra seats at the table. God sends us the resources, and the guests, as He sees fit.”
Captain Lee paused in his cutting for a long moment, then resumed.
“God is using you here to stop the crime problem before it begins – deprivation and resentment among the young, and then opportunity to lash back, to take – it accounts for so much crime, and yet doesn't happen when people feel like they are a part of a real community, and that someone with more is there to help someone with less.”
“I keep telling people: I am a peace officer now,” Captain Hamilton said. “Hospitality makes for peace in a community. I am petitioning Lofton County to provide a summer breakfast program, but there is no need for me to wait as long as the family's resources permit us to do this.”
“It can hardly make up for the county's neglect of the matter.”
“That is not my responsibility. The Lord only asked me to cook for 20, and stay on the county about the issue until a decision is made. Can't solve every problem, can't carry the burden of doing so – the Lord only requires me to do what He tells me to do, and He'll take care of the rest.”
The rhythm of the chopping again stopped, and then picked up with much greater speed until all the bell peppers and onions were chopped, and then –.
“All done with these – will you excuse me for a few minutes, Ham?”
The voice was choked, though evenly choked.
“Sure, Harry.”
Captain Hamilton listened to the orderly step of his cousin go double-time once in the sitting room, and then the front door opened, Captain Lee took off at a run to his car, and slammed its door behind him. He was unwilling to disturb his cousins' rest, but Captain Hamilton slid over to pick up the chopped onions and peppers and saw the tears his cousin had quietly been shedding before his emotions overcame him.
“Mild onions, but at last, Lord, I hope You have granted him some understanding, and relief.”
In just a few minutes, the sound of a double-time march returned to the house, and then a regular march through the sitting room to the kitchen, and then the orderly step back to the marcher's post. Captain Lee had returned, and began slicing and dicing potatoes like nothing at all had happened. But upon turning around, Captain Hamilton could see that some of the burden had lifted from his cousin's mind and heart, and although he had little to say as the rest of the Hamiltons rolled on into the kitchen for breakfast and began carrying on as a family that big will, he did seem to relax and enjoy it all.
Captain Lee was not so relaxed that he allowed his cousin to slip out to work without him, and Captain Hamilton was glad for his company and assistance in dealing with the grim task of reviewing those troublesome cases that Captain Hamilton had inherited from his predecessors. Captain Lee knew his data like Captain Hamilton knew his, but Big Loft was 35 times the size of Tinyville, so there was much more data, and much more by the way of patterns to discern. On the other hand: Captain Lee was glad to take notes on the process between Captain Hamilton discovering what was going on and firing the three remaining staff members who had created that 10 years of misery for 28 percent of Tinyville.
“The police commissioner is likely not considering releasing three out of five officers in Big Loft's police force,” Captain Lee said at the end, “but if he were to do so, you have at least given a good framework for such a decision. I imagine that you took a great deal of anger from the townspeople about this.”
“Oh, 72 percent of the town and the Tinyville Times were quite disconcerted. The calls for the city council and mayor to fire me were both swift and many. However, the city council and the mayor stood by me, and some privately thanked me for taking the heat they could not afford because of election pressures. They know what Lofton County is in for. They want Tinyville steered as clear as possible, in hopes that some big public-private money may come here.”
“So that's what's going on,” Captain Lee said. “I knew it was about money in Big Loft, but Tinyville is angling for a piece of it – and you know it had to be about money because Big Loft and Tinyville haven't cared about the people involved, ever.”
“You know it,” Captain Hamilton said. “However, the leadership in Miniopolis, Littleburg, Smallwood, and Shortport did not become aware of the possibility as early as here in Tinyville, and so, they have let this thing run...”
“And, the Lofton County Free Voice has come along to expose them before they can now recover,” Captain Lee said. “This of course means the situation is more dangerous than we discussed last night. Big Loft doesn't need the money, although it of course wants it. The smaller towns and the county desperately need it. That FOIA stands to mess up the money.”
“None of which will have any bearing on my decision on the subject,” Captain Hamilton said, with a smile. “We have one good Lord and Master, and His image is not on any dollar bill!”
“Amen, and amen,” Captain Lee said, with a soft smile. “Although I am not in decision making capacity in Big Loft, I will also forward some notes and recommendations from our work today, and in that way fully discharge my duty to our Lord, and let the chips fall where they may.”
“That's the Spirit, Harry – really!”
The changing of the guard, as it were, occurred at 4:00pm; Lieutenant O'Reilly would come in then and man the post until 10:00pm. Just before 3:30pm, Captain Hamilton at last finished his big sort, and consigned the last of the files back to the file cabinet.
“Whale of a mess,” he said as he locked it.
“Be thankful you are in Tinyville,” Captain Lee said. “Our whale in Big Loft is at least 35 times bigger.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Captain Hamilton. “The county prosecutor's office is TOAST, Harry. That's the other challenge on this. I've got 22 cases in there that never, ever should have been tried, much less a conviction obtained. Another 16 cases should be overturned for only slightly less blatant problems. Still 10 more would be harder to convince an appeals judge on, but not so much so. That's 48 cases, basically five a year for all ten years. The only way that kind of thing continually happens is if there is a corrupt prosecutor on top of corrupt police.
“There's still another problem. If I have at least 48 cases in which the wrong men were convicted, that means I have 48 actual criminals out there just wandering around in full freedom, probably still wreaking havoc somewhere. That's what I can't get people to understand, Harry – when we do the crime of snatching up a Black man, any Black man, to fill out our private prison quota, we are doing a triple injustice. The first crime is against the innocent man and his family. The second crime is against the victims and their family, who think they are getting closure and safety but they are not, and the third crime is against the whole community, not just that of the innocent man, because the real criminal is still out there.
“This also is the reason I cleaned house down here – 48 cases we know were not solved in five years, and the whole lot of them suspect so far as Black people are concerned – take out traffic stops and the like, and that is a whopping 68 percent of all cases.”
Captain Lee considered this, and jumped almost out of his chair.
“I was doing the numbers in my head on Big Loft – and then Lofton County – and then Virginia – and then the nation – Lord God Almighty, what have we been doing, all this time?”
“Great, great evil,” Ironwood Hamilton said grimly. “I thank God for every quiet day He permits us, when one considers what He could be doing – and once did, in Virginia, a century and a half ago.”
Captain Lee shook his head.
“My Lord, and my God – what have we been doing?” he repeated. “Mercy, Lord, please continue in Your mercy, or we are lost!”
“That was what you were saying last night, actually, although to a crowd that does not quite see the matter that way.”
“Was I?”
“You did such a fine job I really had little to say.”
“I was so tired I do not remember – and now I know why. I have investigated a few cases in Big Loft since coming, as fairly as I can, but I have been meeting all kinds of subtle resistance. At first I thought it was because I am obsessively meticulous, but now I think there might be more to it.”
“Indeed there might be. Consider: people who frame other people for crimes might indeed do it for racial reasons, but then again, the average person who frames somebody else for a crime is usually covering for his or herself. That's another reason I had to fire three out of five of my remaining lieutenants. Too many thefts, and too little recovery of money and property, and too poor handling of money and property held as evidence!”
Captain Lee's eyes grew wide.
“Work that out mathematically across the county … oh, there's no bottom to it!”
“Yet again, Harry, we can't fix any of that. Today, we got this fixed. We've got our number: 48 cases that need to be vacated and started over. We ask the Lord for mercy on all of the rest.”
Captain Hamilton paused for a long moment.
“Something wrong, Ham?”
“No … no, but I think I know what I'm going to do with this FOIA now.”
“What?”
“Ask for mercy.”
Captain Lee smiled.
“The third way... the way of humility.”
“Every 154 years, it seems to work for members of our family in Virginia.”
“Overdue to be tried anyhow!”
“Here comes O'Reilly – let's get out of here!”
Homeward to the Hamiltons, who were in full hue and cry – with school being out, all of the children old enough to work on Ham it Up Jewelry were assisting their mother, and even the four littlest were involved.
Sisters Ilene and Allison were showing the different colors and sizes of bead and bangle to their baby brothers Ira and Agnew. Agnew, like his mother, was sharper on colors, and Ira, like his father, on shapes. Both were having a grand time, showing off their piercing soprano voices in their excitement as their sisters cheered them for finding the right objects. Addison, who was in charge of the Ham it Up weblog, was getting plenty of hilarious footage to work with there.
Orton and Edward, each 10 years old, had more substantial work: they had the charge of going through all the bulk items the business ordered and sorting them into likely items to go together. The two brothers were very competitive, and vied for delivering the biggest and best sorts to their sisters Agnes and Iris and their mother, who quickly and expertly made intricate jewelry out of them.
Adella, home for the summer, was acting as a model; Addison's other job was to get plenty of beautiful stills of her wearing the finest works the family business had to offer. In this work, Addison also acted as talent scout, and lit right into his cousin Harry as soon as he arrived.
“Oh, hey Cousin Harry – I've been waiting for you to get here. We've got a ton of shots of Dad wearing our new cuff links and tie pins and men's rings, but he's long and loose and we need some stocky-built looks too!”
Captain Lee delayed too long in his confusion, and Agnes, Iris, and Adella came to get him, singing in glorious three-part harmony...
“Oh, we just love Cousin Harry, and we know that he loves us, so we'll doll up our Cousin Harry, and folks will go wild about – will not do without – anything that he wears!”
“Your new career may have just found you,” Captain Hamilton said with a chuckle as his three eldest daughters and second son led their cousin away.
“I want a cut of the profits, dagblast it!”
But he was laughing as he surrendered.
There was a lot of laughter and fun in the Hamilton house, even as the industry continued by necessity. Mrs. Hamilton's dream of making a product line of necklaces 25 years earlier had blossomed along with the growth of the family, providing necessary income to support its growth. Everyone attended to it, even and especially Captain Hamilton, who at the end of whatever day, still kept track of the books and dealt with suppliers at home and abroad. His eldest son, Ironwood Jr., was streaking through business school owing to the experiences he had as the family business grew up with him, and still pitched in, even as he traveled to study international business, with market research and contacts.
It was all a blessing, to the captain's thinking; the business had kept a point of common family productivity together wherever and whenever they were apart from each other … which had been often, because of his long military service. Yet he had called every day that he could just to speak with every member of the family, and then, every eight or nine days, no matter what was going on, his wife received his updated input on this, that, and the other thing that continued to help the family business grow with the years. His body had to be absent, a lot. Yet that was the limit, to the best of his ability.
And then, every now and again, Ironwood Hamilton would sit down by his wife and apply his eye for detail to a design. In his travels he had seen many kinds of fashions; he would sometimes draw from those memories and what his wife had on hand and surprise her with a new idea – so, on this Saturday, he surprised her by sitting down and taking the time to draw out an entire necklace design before going to get dinner warmed up. Moonstones, pink mother-of-pearl covered ovals, 10k gold setting –
“I call it 'steaming and gleaming,' he said, and walked off as his wife laughed behind him and began seeing how the piece might come together.
Before supper the Hamilton eldest girls and son Addison had gotten their Cousin Harry the way they wanted him, and then began the photo shoot, which was difficult to watch without laughing – the rings, the cuff links, the watch chains, the tie pins, the medallions – they kept coming up with things and he kept saying, “Y'all are ridiculous!” and yet and still taking stunning photos, because he had a stunning sense of pose even if it was just his hand, his arm, and his neck.
“This stuff here is gonna go viral!” Addison shouted. “Dad – I need you to put a suitcoat on for a minute, and your black gloves – and think like Cousin Harry when you put 'em on!”
Indeed, Ham it Up would struggle to stay in watch chains after the black-gloved handshakes of Captains Hamilton and Lee, sporting all six watch chains in stock. Addison knew his marketing!
Finally, everything was put away so that the family could enjoy a high-spirited and relaxed supper, and Captain Hamilton noticed that his cousin Harry was quite relaxed and seemed content, and remained so as he joined in the Hamiltons' summertime games on the porch and in the yard as the sun began to set and the lights came on.
“Early to bed, for early to rise –
Must be in Sunday School, no droopy eyes!”
When Captain Hamilton said that, his children groaned, but obediently put everything away and went inside, the older ones helping the younger ones with getting ready for bed while Captain and Mrs. Hamilton tended to the littlest ones. They left their cousin Harry asleep on the porch; he had gotten so relaxed he had nodded off, still catching up on missed sleep from the previous week.
“Go on to bed, Aggie,” the captain said when Ira and Agnew were at last asleep. “I'll go walk Harry in.”
As he was going, the words for his letter to the Lofton County Free Voice came to him, so, he wrote the letter on the porch, sitting in the chair next to his sleeping cousin. A fold of the paper to go into an envelope the next day, and then a gentle half-waking of his cousin – “Harry, you're going to be sore in the morning if you stay asleep on the porch.” Thus to watch the phenomenon of the Big Loft cousin still being pretty much asleep, but guidable through a number of actions: teeth brushing, changing of clothes, and getting into bed. He would not remember how he got to bed, but he would re-orient in the morning.
Captain Hamilton addressed his letter to the Lofton County Free Voice and then realized he didn't have an address, but thought out how to deal with that on Sunday, and then went and got into bed. He too had his sleep routines, for often it had been physically necessary to get to sleep as quickly as possible... but his favorite routine was to enjoy a sweet, lingering kiss with Mrs. Hamilton and drift off with her in his arms, his chin resting in her soft auburn hair.