Locomotive to the Past by George Schultz (iphone ebook reader .TXT) 📕

have launched into, what he’d imagined was, a genuine, bona fide, diatribe!

Well, that career was short-lived! It sure was nice, though . . . while it was here! While it lasted!

Signals off! The boss (finally) smiled! Smiled broadly! And gave him a “thumbs-up”! A vigorous one! (Whew!)

THIRTY TWO

March 4, 1943: The night—that the 15th Academy Awards ceremony took place! Bob Hope, as usual, had hosted the—celebrity-festooned—affair, at The Coconut Grove, in Los Angeles. Mr. Hope had been in rare form!

The movie, Mrs. Miniver, pretty much swept the awards, that night: The star, of the flick—Greer Garson—was selected as Best Actress. Theresa Wright won Best Supporting Actress. William Wyler took the Best Director award. All from that same movie—which, of course, was awarded Motion Picture of The Year honors. The flick also won a number of technical recognition praises! “Oscars” for such as: Best Cinematography, Best Sound Recording, and Best Adapted Screenplay. Quite a sweep!

The fact that the Best Actor award went to James Cagney—for his role, in Yankee Doodle Dandy—seemed to be more an afterthought, than anything else. The movie, though, was also selected as Best Musical.

Van Heflin won Best Supporting Actor—for Johnny Eager. Another apparent afterthought.

More than an afterthought, though—was the fact that Irving Berlin’s immortal White Christmas won Best Song. An achievement which would affect the musical world—affect it profoundly—for, literally, decades!

Miss Wright—the Best Supporting Actress winner—had also appeared in another, very-popular, flick, Pride Of The Yankees, which, apparently, was a pretty accurate portrayal of baseball player, Lou Gehrig’s, life and times. Gary Cooper had starred, in the title role. The movie won Best Film Editing—and was runner-up, in a number of other significant categories.

A Walt Disney feature—called Nutziland—won the award for Best Animation. This was another feature, glowingly spoken of—“early and often”—by Grandpa Piepczyk.

It was from this “short” that Spike Jones’ “classic” recording—Der Fuhrer’s Face—had come. The old man had advised Our Hero—countless times—of his efforts, when he’d first heard about the movie, to actually see “the damn thing”! And—sadly—he’d failed! Continually! He was never able to find a venue—where the movie was being shown! Ever! His transplanted grandson had, also looked for it! Had spent—literally—hours, trying to track it down! But, he, too, had never seen the feature listed! Ever! A genuine mystery!

This all happened, mere weeks after a new star had been introduced—on Lucky Strikes’, ever-popular, Your Hit Parade! The newcomer’s name was Sinatra! Frank Sinatra! Seemed to have a pretty fair future, he did!

In Detroit, Jason and Valerie Rutkowski hosted their own little “award”! They’d filled the roles, of host and hostess (not in that order—spectacularly not in that order)—at New Grace Hospital, on Meyers Road!

Enter Mary Rose Rutkowski! She weighed in—at a pretty robust eight pounds-and-eleven-ounces! And—according to her father—possessed a sound pair of lungs! The newest “Root” was bald, as the proverbial eagle!

“Mother and daughter are doing well,” proclaimed the proud papa. “And I’ll be up and around… in a few days.”

Valerie wanted to dub the newest member Eileen. While Jason loved that name, he’d (almost tearfully) pleaded, for their little girl—to be named Mary Rose.

Mary Rose! As usual, Grandpa Piepczyk had had a “finger in the pie”—from beyond the grave. He’d owned (and had very frequently played) a scratchy, early-fifties, 45rpm, record—of a beautiful ballad. The venerable disc had featured this song—of the same name—sung by Dennis Day.

And young Jason—from the time he’d been five—or six-years-old—had grown to love the record. Continually badgered his grandfather—to play it!

He’d really fallen in love, with the words: Bet the moon a penny . . . you’re as sweet as any, Mary Rose—was his favorite line, from the sentimental lyric. The ditty wound up—with Mr. Day singing: You’ll look oh-so-pretty . . . when they throw confetti. Our Boy didn’t want to consider that line—which had referred to a wedding! Not at the birth, anyway—of his, “gloriously-beautiful”, daughter!

There had been “something”, in Jason’s, highly-emotional, naming request! An unidentifiable ingredient! One that had been so touchingly similar, to his surprise recitation of a portion, of the lyric from Lehar’s Vilia, during his, and Valerie’s, wedding ceremony! An unimaginable emotion—that had moved the new mother! Substantially! The request had moved his wife—to accept, (“right out of the box”) his “mournful plea”! And so, Mary Rose it was!

Once she’d witnessed the, overwhelmingly-gratified, grateful, expression, on her husband’s face, Valerie had known! Had been assured—that this had been the absolute right decision! Absolute!

The new daddy had always heard—heard repeatedly, and had unendingly reflected upon—his grandfather’s proclamation (the “truism”) that there was always, historically, “something special! Something eternally special… between daddies and daughters!”. Jason would dedicate his life, to seeing that this would hold true—vis-a-vis “the beautiful” Mary Rose, and himself!

The reverse—of that sacramental theory—sadly, had never worked out that way, for Jason, himself. Certainly, nothing remotely close, to being a very special relationship—between mothers and sons! Not in his case, anyway.

On the other hand, every time Our Boy would get to feeling “so damn sorry for myself”, it would, jarringly, occur to him that his maternal grandfather had, tragically, missed out! Had been totally “shut out”—completely, “shut out”—when it had come, to Sheila Rutkowski! How sad! That had to have brought on a whole series, of God-awful heartbreak—for this wonderful man! No “Daddy and Daughter Special Relationship”! How incredibly sad!

Hopefully, Mary Rose would be the grand (hopefully, the grandiose) source—of all kinds of “specialness”, for the, exceptionally-proud, Jason! Well, for both daddy and daughter! If “his little girl” was to turn out—to be anything like her mother, “specialness” would appear immediately! Automatically! It would be a sure thing! A sure thing! Please Lord!

By then, Jason had been employed—for almost a year—at WXXD. For the most part, it had been a most successful run for Our Boy. Mr. Garback had been astounded—astonished—by his employee’s knowledge, of popular music. This abundance of “musical lore” had, obviously, come from his rising-star’s grandfather. No matter what the source—it had, pleasantly, surprised his poobah!

In 1943, Frank Sinatra—whom most people had never heard of, despite the fact