A Glibertarians Exclusive – Too Many Goodbyes V
Zanesville, Ohio – June 1964
Sally Braxton looked up from her book as her eighteen-year-old son George burst into the living room. “Mom,” George Braxton said to his mother, “I’ve done it!”
“You’ve done what?”
“Joined the Navy.”
Sally sat in her favorite chair, in the small living room of her small house in the small town of Zanesville, Ohio, where she had moved after leaving the Navy in 1946. She was still bemused, sometimes, as to how a girl from New Bedford had ended up in this small town in the Appalachian foothills, but here she was, Chief Nurse of the little local community hospital – with George, her son, all she had left of her brief marriage to Commander Tom Braxton, now somewhere on the bottom of the Pacific with the USS Indianapolis. Long ago, before he boarded the Indianapolis and sailed into oblivion, he had told her of his grandparent’s farm in the area; maybe that was why she felt at home.
She had never remarried. When asked why, she invariably replied, “Because I loved Tom. If I remarried, I’d be forever comparing my second husband to him. That wouldn’t be fair to him, to me, or to Tom.”
Her son’s announcement provoked some concern. “Why?” she asked.
“It was Dad’s life, wasn’t it? And you were in the Navy, too. I want to do this. It’s the only thing I can do to get to know a little about what my father’s life was like.”
“Well, your Dad was an Annapolis man.” She smiled at her son, who looked so achingly like the father he’d never known. “I’m sure you’ll find being a regular sailor quite a bit different than what he went through.”
“Even so,” George said, “I’ll still be in the Navy. Sooner or later, we’re going to be facing the Russians. Everybody says so.” Sally mentally translated “everybody says so” from teen-speak to English as “a couple of people I like say so.” “Besides,” George went on, “it beats waiting around to get drafted. I’d sooner spend some time in the Navy than the Army.”
Sally remembered something she had seen on the news about the Army sending “advisors” to Indochina – no, they were calling it Vietnam now. She nodded. “Yes, I’d rather you were in the Navy than the Army. When do you have to report?”
“Day after tomorrow. I have to catch a bus; I’ll report to the Great Lakes Training Center. After that, who knows?”
“Well, all right. I’m not working that day. I’ll drive you to the bus station.” She got up and hugged her tall, strong son, so achingly like his father.
George took that for approval. “I’ve gotta go tell the guys. Later, Mom!” He rushed out, leaving Sally bemused and a little apprehensive.
Sally put down her book. She looked around her living room, the front room of the little house she had raised George in, alone.
Soon I’ll be alone here, she thought. Alone again. George is going to go away, like his father did, so many times. One more goodbye.
“Well,” she said to herself, “it’s not like I didn’t know it was going to happen. Kids grow up.”
She went out through the kitchen, to the back of the house, where there was a small deck with a round table and two chairs. Sally sat in one of the chairs, facing the huge white oak that dominated her back yard. A robin was singing in the top of the oak. A few sparrows were foraging in the row of bushes along the edge of the yard.
“Well, Tom,” she said quietly, “Our boy is all grown up.”
She lapsed back into the silent conversation she had been holding with Commander Tom Braxton, the one-sided conversation she had been maintaining with him since 1945, since he had left to take up his duties on the Indianapolis, since she had received a telegram from the Navy Department informing her of the cruiser’s sinking, since she had found out Tom was not among the few survivors, since she had learned that their brief honeymoon had left her carrying the son she had named after Tom’s father.
I hope I’ve done right by you, Tom, in all this time I’ve stayed here without you. I hope I’ve done right by George. I know your parents are happy with him. I’ve taken him up to Ashtabula to see them, every year, he’s spent time with them as well as with my folks in New Bedford. I’ve made sure he knows his family, both sides.
And now he wants to be a sailor, Tom. No Academy ring for him, he just rushed out and signed up. He should be OK, though. Our war, the Second World War, there surely won’t be another war like that, not again.
She paused in her line of thought. The robin was still singing. Somehow, she never felt that she was talking to herself in these internal soliloquies; she felt that Tom was, somehow, listening. In some ways Tom felt like a distant memory, but in others, not. Sally could still hear his infectious laugh, could still smell his shaving soap, could remember his big hands, his Annapolis class ring.
I wonder, she thought, which one of us really left the other behind. My folks, your folks, they’re all sure that you’re in Heaven, waiting for me to come join you. I wonder about that. Would the God we learned about in Sunday school allow something like Okinawa to happen? Or Iwo Jima?
It’s just been such a long time, Tom. Almost twenty years.
I know what you’d say. You’d smile that crooked smile and tell me I should get hold of myself. You went out doing your job, serving on a ship in the Navy you loved. That there are worse ways to go. But Tom, oh, Tom, how lonely it’s been without you.
I remember the year after the war ended. Did I ever tell you, Tom, that I went back to Honolulu, back to Pearl Harbor? My old apartment building was still there on the Ala Wai Canal. I found the spot we stood under the koa trees where you proposed. It was as though I could feel you there with me. When I came back to the States I stopped in San Francisco, where I had resigned my commission when the war ended. The Old Knoll Navy Hospital was still there, but most of the wounded men have been moved on. Not much happening there in 1946, just a few sailors and Marines still being treated.
I went to Ashtabula, saw your parents. How odd it was to meet them for the first time, without you there. But a piece of you was there, and I think it made it easier on your parents knowing that I was carrying George, even then, and that something of you would go on.
Damn that war.
And now George has joined the Navy. It’s like something has come full circle.
George thinks I should let you go. I’m not fifty yet. I could start a new life. Start over. Find someone to spend my life with. Let you go.
I’ve been so occupied with raising George. It’s not easy, raising a boy without a father. At least he has had his grandfathers for role models, and thankfully they’re good men. But Tom, if only you could have been here. If only he could have known his father.
But now George has joined the Navy. He’ll be going away. Like his father did, so many times. Another goodbye.
Sally paused in her internal dialogue. She looked up into the branches of the oak. The robin was perched on the end of a branch; as she watched, he tipped back his head and pealed out another stream of song.
But I don’t want to let you go. I can still see you. I see your face in every cloud. I hear your voice in the wind. When the grass ripples in the summer breeze, like it’s doing right now, I can feel your breathing. And most of all, I see you in our son, in George.
I don’t want to let you go. But Tom, my very dear, it’s just been so long. Maybe it’s time. I know you’ll always be with me. I know you’ll always be nearby, somehow. And maybe your folks are right. Maybe someday we’ll be together again.
Just so you know, always, that no matter what comes up next for me, that I’ll always love you, more than anything in the world.
Sally felt like something had shifted, like some new chapter in her life was starting up. She looked up into the oak. The robin had flown away.
***
You’re gonna make me wonder what I’m doing
Staying far behind without you
You’re gonna make me wonder what I’m saying
You’re gonna make me give myself a good talking to.
I’ll look for you in old Honolulu
San Francisco, Ashtabula
You’re gonna have to leave me now I know
But I’ll see you in the sky above
In the tall grass in the ones I love
You’re gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Well. that was outstanding.
Thank you, Animal. Perfect close.
Got a little tear from that, Animal. Great work!
I didn’t expect that big of a time jump.
Excellent, Animal!
More heart-ache ahead, I fear.
John McCain’s gonna blow that poor boy up.
GO ON, ZARDOZ IS LISTENING…
*Tries to remember major naval losses in the 60’s…*
Avoid the Liberty and Forrestal.
And the Pueblo.
Great stuff again Animal.
great story
I second this. I love this story and you made me weep a manly tear.
Really well done Animal.
Thanks for the feedback, everyone. I was pretty pleased with this story.
OMWC recently asked me if I had thought about anthologizing these stories in book form. Mrs. Animal likes the idea but her turn-around time on publishing now is pushing two years – she’s taken on a few new authors and these people are prolific. I’ll let everyone know if/when this develops.
My grandfather joined the Navy during Korea and trained at Great Lakes, so not the right timeline, but feeling a slight connection to this. I still have his pack somewhere.
If a book ever materializes I’m sure you’ll let us know.
I really hope these do end up in a book one day…soon. Thanks for sharing them with us!
Got kinda dusty in here. . .
*sniffles*
Phenomenal story.
And I guessed wrong again. Verse two referenced the person who would be gone having red hair, so I thought for sure it would be Sally.
OT and glorious.
The cracks are showing
Ah, good old sooty coal. Deutschland has plenty of that.
Too bad they weren’t looking at ways to make it cleaner instead of just shutting the plants down.
The dumb fucks were importing wood pellets (from the US) as part of their ‘renewable’ strategy. Yeah, ok.
I wonder if clean coal plants are less nasty than the wood plants?
Nukes with natural gas support makes so fucking much sense, I can see why they hate it.
“Clean” coal is a bit of an elusive thing. Especially in Germany. Most German coals are really low-rank, lignite and similar. Coal fired plants are designed for specific coals, and it can be a bit of a pain to convert to different types of coal. Pulverizers, coal ducts, burners, and waste handling systems are all specified for a “design coal” and may have to be changed at great expense.
Thank you. Your “ackshulys” are always useful and interesting.
Wow, thanks for the compliment! Tonio just holds up the “NERDS” sign and threaten wediges.
Being primarily familiar with power plants designed for Eastern bituminous coals, I was surprised the first time I visited a plant that was designed for lignite as its primary fuel. The HHV (higher heating value, or energy content per unit mass) of lignite is much lower than for higher rank coals, so to get the same heat into a boiler, you have to burn a lot more mass. The non-fuel mass of the coal is ash, and shows up as, well, ash. So the plant I visited, while generating 100MW less than the units I had worked at, handled significantly more fuel and ash. The ductwork, scrubbers, and electrostatic precipitators were gigantic in comparison. Even the boilers were larger, in order to handle the larger volume of combustion products and fly ash.
In your opinion, does coal still have a place? Particularly in developing nations?
Absolutely coal has (should have) a place. It is a relatively low cost fuel that can have acceptable emissions if the control devices are well built and modern. The problem with coal is CO2, and that is exceptionally difficult and expensive to treat. to my knowledge there are still no full scale carbon capture facilities in place at any power plant of significant capacity anywhere. Demonstration units, maybe, but those have been shown to be murderous in cost, both for capital and operation.
The tremendously shortsighted green monsters in this world wand simultaneously no CO2 emissions and no nukes, as well as maximum reliance on “renewables” which is a recipe for a return to the 19th century in terms of the common individual.
https://www.projecttundrand.com
Got a server error so thought I’d try separating the link from my comment.
db, are you familiar with Project Tundra in North Dakota? It has nothing to do with the goofy guy you’re chatting with.
Catchy name!
MikeS,
I am not familiar with that project. Interestingly, I spent some time at the Coal Creek generating station, which is approximately 22 miles north of the Milton Young station. Coal Creek is the one I was talking about when I mentioned how lignite based stations are so much larger than ones designed for eastern bituminous coals.
MikeS, from the Wikipedia article on the Milton S. Young station:
Those units, based on those capacities, are on the small side of units in service today. I’m a little shocked that they’d be considered for emissions control upgrades, although it may be that they have received significant grants as a technology demonstrator, or that the CO2 capture designers need to start with smaller units.
Reading further into that web site, they’re using deep injection of the CO2 into porous rock structure for sequestration. They expect to capture only part of the emissions from one or the other unit.
“Innovative technologies are being designed to capture 90% of the CO2 produced from either generator at the Milton R. Young Station.”
The project is billed as a “billion dollar” capital investment. There is simply no way units of that size can justify on their own that kind of investment. Without significant grants or massive rate increases, these units would be likely to be the first shut down for economics with that kind of burden.
@db. That’s interesting. I haven’t ben following too closely, but I know the state is making a big push on carbon capture. So there is certainly a lot of tax dollars behind it as well as private investment. Tundra is one piece of a carbon capture “industry” being pushed. Another big project is to pipe CO2 here from around the country and inject it into old shale oil wells.
You need to burn the good stuff.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthracite
Damn expensive and it’s extremely hard on pulverization equipment and other fuel train equipment in PC (pulverized coal) fired boilers.
But the HHV is as high as it gets in terms of solid fossil fuels.
Also pretty rare these days. Most of the productive mines in the US have been exhausted for anything approximating the requirements of power generation fuels. There are some fields remaining in China that haven’t been tapped out, and probably in other areas of the world that haven’t been explored/exploited yet.
For power generation it is a hard sell. I loved it for home heating. I can still get it for $150-200 a short ton.
Anthracite is awesome.
$150-$200 a ton is crazy high for “steam coal”–certain metallurgical grades are currently trading in that range, which is painful enough.
When you’re burning 12,000 tons a day, it adds up.
I wonder if there are any mines in the US that could deliver that kind of volume of anthracite.
Weirdly on phone now, even when zoomed out DBs posts show up only 3 characters across…cutting up all words.
That said I thought most western coal plants had already been retrofitted with all kinds of exhaust filters (like catalytic converters) for scrubbing the really nasty stuff out – vice Chinese “new construction ” designs.
I could write a book on the subject based on my past experience, and it wouldn’t even be comprehensive of the whole situation, because my experience was only in one little corner of the fossil fuel power generation industry, but in general–many coal fired power plants have been retrofitted with acid gas scrubbers for sulfur dioxide emissions, selective catalytic reactors (SCR) for NOx emissions, activated carbon injectors for mercury emissions, and other systems for other pollutants. Adding all these systems has caused many of those plants to run on the bare edge of economic viability, and for many older plants, the owners made the decision to decomission the plants rather than invest in the environmental controls. This is one of the reasons, in conjunction with the lack of investment in nuclear generation, that our grids operate at lower safety margins of excess capacity these days.
Yes, there have been many new natural gas plants installed, and they are typically more efficient and responsive than coal fired plants that are burdened with all the added emissions controls, but not enough to really cover for the loss of baseload coal fired generation in the US.
We need more nuclear and we need it fast.
Fast and nuclear power haven’t been uttered in the same sentience since the 60’s. I’m hoping the DOE gets out of the way for the small modular reactors being developed. Build them in a factory, deliver them on site, then add more modules as needed.
Large Thorium or ANEEL reactor should be build. We have 40 years of advances in materials and controls to make everything less costly and safer.
Makes me wonder, in 20 years when we finally get fusion working (snorts), will we even be able to build plants here? I would never have questioned that in the past, assuming we would lead the way, but now I wonder. And just having to ask that question seems like a very bad sign for the future of this country.
NIMBY, those fusion plant give you sunburn and burn hydrogen, that stuff explodes.
It’s not an explosion; it’s just quicker oxidation than, say, rusting.
I’m thinking southern Nevada would be perfect for a new Nuke plant. We already do Nuke stuff at the Nevada National Security Site, so why not add a plant? The site is HUGE but also close enough to Vegas and Pahrump to be useful. Even Reno could get in on the action.
Yucca mountain and Yucca flats can take the leftovers, right alongside the remnants of the testing.
Energy is the difference between crushing poverty and affluence. Always has been. If these globalist fucks really cared about Gaia, they would be funding nuke plants all over the world.
’40 years of advances in materials and controls to make everything less costly and safer.’
What got cheaper to produce in the last 40 years? Spacecraft? But that seems to be more about who is producing it than how. Safer I could buy, but I don’t think we’ll see cheaper.
You have to love the picture they used to depict that coal fired plant. The plumes from the exhaust stacks are photographed backlit by a bright cloudy sky, which makes them look dark and dirty. In reality, those plumes are due to the exhaust being saturated with water vapor from the acid gas scrubbers, and are brilliant white when viewed from the opposite direction or against a blue sky.
Don’t you even narrative, bro?
We need to send them a few Billion more for their democracy.
Ukraine’s top opposition party banned
That’s more than troubling… I guess it is RT but I haven’t seen them to invent things from while cloth either.
Well done, Animal!
Thank ye for sharing your stories here with us.
That lil LEGO terminal now plays Doom.
That’s ridiculously cool.
The Jacket interviews Dave Smith.
As usual, Dave holds his own. Good interview all around.
That was great Animal.
Thanks for this Animal. Something must be burning, getting awfully smoky here.
That’s a bittersweet end.
Thanks Animal.