Locomotive to the Past by George Schultz (iphone ebook reader .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: George Schultz
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May, 1979: Vilia joins the Ronald Reagan campaign. Still a Dominican sister, the “Singing Nuns’” contract had expired, at the end of 1978. All had received further, religious-order, assignments. The Rutkowski’s daughter had been sent to teach English—at a grade school, in Kansas City.
But when “The Gipper” had arrived, in March, in St. Louis—for a well-publicized (and well-attended) speaking engagement—“Sister Jason Eric” was so taken with the man, that she’d managed to “finagle” a release, from her teacher’s slot! She, then, managed to chase down one of the campaign’s directors—in Chicago! And “joined the team”!
She was able to join forces, with former California Lieutenant Governor, Mike Curb—who was a professional musician. He’d headed up the musical selection process—for all of the candidate’s public engagements! Including a massive concert-work, during the Republican National Convention—in Detroit! The nun was able to spend “more time than we’d had any right to expect” (quoth her father)—on Grandmont Street
January 15, 1982: “Jim Root” retired—after almost 40 years, at WXXD! The station’s “First Couple”—strangely or not—still resided, in the, much-loved, two-story, house, on Grandmont Street.
The former “radio personality” vowed to “write a book… or six”.
June 12, 1987—Berlin, Germany: “Mister Gorbachev, Tear Down This Wall!” One of the many thousands of witnesses—to that Red-Letter Day, in American history—was the Rutkowski’s “Number-Three Daughter”, who’d remained a nun. And in good standing!
September 9, 1987: Mark Martin joined the staff of radio station WWJ, in Detroit—as a staff announcer. Previously, his grandfather had gotten him “in”, at WXXD—first, as an intern, then as a staff announcer.
WWJ had, ultimately, offered Mark “substantially” more money—as well as an “unbreakable promise”, to fill an important vacancy, which would occur in six months. One of the station’s most popular newscasters would be retiring, at that time. The man kept his promise! And the station kept its commitment! The beginning—of a, most-successful, career for the lad!
1991: The year of the collapse, of The Soviet Union. George H.W. Bush had assumed the presidency, in 1989. Three months after President Reagan had left office, Vilia retired from “The Nun Business”—and was happy to return to what she’d always considered her “ancestral home”! (Yes—on Grandmont Street.) Her parents—still, “solidly-ensconced”, in the domicile—welcomed home, heartily, their “long lost” daughter!
April 23, 1992: Golden Wedding Anniversary for Jason and Valerie! Both, now in their seventies! They’d celebrated by having a quiet dinner at home! (“It was great!” quoth the male half of the partnership.)
June 17, 1995: Jason’s and Valerie’s grandson, Mark Martin becomes top investigative reporter, for station WWJ—on a more-or-less freelance basis. He would—over the next three or four years—expose numerous scandals, in various city, county, and state government entities. In most cases, it was the young man’s relentless “gumshoeing” that led to the many prosecutable successes! He was having “quite a career”!
In the year 2000, he would launch himself—into an extensive investigation of the practices of one Dr. Richard Keltner. At first, he discovered that the current Dr. Keltner is a third-generation physician! All—each one—of questionable moral values.
It becomes current thought—that the “original” Dr. Keltner had begun the “questionable” practice—of falsifying diagnoses, of accident victims—back in the 1940’s. (Valerie’s adoptive parents seemed to have been one of those many “questionable” cases! However, the “trail”, in virtually all of those cases, had turned out to be “too cold”—to be pursued, “in depth”).
The son—the second Dr. Keltner, and his also—“questionable” practices—appeared to also fall, into that regrettable category.
However, the “current” practitioner had seemed to have involved himself, in an overwhelming number of “highly-problematic” cases. “Thrown caution to the wind”—according to the, hot-on-the-trail, WWJ reporter!
By the fall of 2001, the far-reaching “tentacles”—of Mark’s investigational campaign—had touched the situation with Sheila Rutkowski. The resulting probe, in fact, had reached a point, to where Jason’s mother had seen her benefits temporarily terminated.
September 12, 2001: Mark Martin answers an unexpected “plea”—from his father-in-law—to visit him, at Jason’s, long-standing, Grandmont residence. A good many months before, Our Hero had converted “the patio room”—where Susan had spent her last few years—into a “more-or-less office.” It wasn’t used for “all that much”. But, once the, newly-self-identified, “patriarch”, of the family had retired, he’d—“dabbled in a little bit of writing”.
He’d contributed a few articles to a national newspaper syndicate—and had started “three or four books… which linger, on the hard disc. In various states of disrepair”.
On this day, Mark was invited to join Jason, in the, above-noted, office. The younger man was, at first, quite taken aback—by the, overly-serious, demeanor of his wife’s father. The, steel-centered, attitude had been apparent—right from the very beginning. He had seen Jason similarly preoccupied before, of course. But, not in a goodly number of years.
Once the door, to the living room, had been closed—and the two men seated, on opposite sides of the moderate-sized desk—Jason withdrew a piece of paper, from the middle drawer. It was a certified money order—in the amount of $50,000! This represented the total sum, of having “put aside” $10,000 per year—for the past five years.
He handed the instrument to his, highly-surprised, son-in-law—and said to the astonished young man, “You’ve been working… for quite awhile now… on that Doctor Keltner scandal.”
Mark managed to respond with a cloudy, “Yes?”
“There’s one of his patients. Her name is Sheila Rutkowski.”
“Yes, I know. I’m familiar with her case. I couldn’t help… but wonder, if she was some kind of relation to you.”
“Look! It’s a long story, Mark! None of which I really want to go into… at this time!” He sort-of-smiled. “Hell,” he continued, “I probably won’t ever want to go into it. Let’s just say that it comes under the heading… of nobody’s business. Absolutely nobody’s business… but, my own. Period! Paragraph!”
“Okay.” The young man’s tone of voice was much less convincing, than the word would indicate. He added—in a slightly more
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