Chapter 22
Jason had led them to the sidewalk beside their hotel. "Anyone staying in the Mills House?" he asked.
The four Bob-Whites raised their hands apprehensively.
Jason grinned. "Well, if your room happens to be on this side of the inn, you may be in luck to experience our next ghost. If you look across the street, you’ll see Poogan’s Porch. You guys remember it from lunch," he grinned. The four looked at one another, remembering that experience. We’ve got to solve this, Trixie sighed to herself.
"To the rest of you, I would highly recommend dining here before you leave. Poogan’s Porch was named after the little dog that claimed this as his home. Poogan died in 1979 and was buried in the front garden. We’ll walk over there and you can see the stone statue that marks the grave. But that’s not the specter that we’re here to see. Sometimes, guests staying at the Mill’s House will peer out their 4th or 5th floor windows, as they get ready for bed well after the restaurant has closed for the night and will see a rather strange sight. There is a woman, dressed in austere black dress seemingly locked inside. She bangs on the front door as if she is trying to get out. The hotel guests will call the police to come and let the woman out. The police in Charleston are used to this and when they get there, it is always the same situation. There is no one there. There is also documentation of this same woman knocking on the doors of the bathroom wanting to get in while it is occupied and appearing in the mirror behind those washing their hands.
"So, who is this spirit that returns again and again? Around the turn of the century, 72 Queen was inhabited by two spinsters named Elizabeth and Zoe St. Armand. By many accounts, the two lived a rather lonely, loveless life. Elizabeth died in 1945 after which point Zoe rather deteriorated in her mind out of loneliness and depression. Zoe died of old age at a home far from the one she grew up in and it is to this place that employees and guests say she returns to. Possibly she is seeking the love that she never had, or maybe she’s simply confused at the strangers eating in what was once her private home. In any case, experts agree that the ghost of Zoe St. Armand is very real." Jason smiled as he moved on.
"As we move to the last two stops on our tour, I’ll mention to you a few of the Charleston Haunts that we have not been able to fit on our walk tonight. As you probably know, the slave trade was prominent in Charleston. I mention to you the story of George, a slave at the 1837 Bed and Breakfast on Wentworth Street who watched his parents, who had been sold, being taken away by boat. George tried to swim after then and drowned in Charleston Harbor. In this inn today, beds shake, rocking chairs rock and lights are turned on and off in the middle of the night."
"I’m so glad the ghost you and Jim have seen isn’t like that," Honey whispered to Trixie who looked back at Honey with a nod of agreement.
"If you have time while in the city, go see a show at the Dock Street Theatre over on Church Street. The grounds have been a hotel as well as a theatre and it is said that at least two haunts reside here. Junius Booth, the father of John Wilkes Booth often stayed at the Planter’s Hotel on this site in the 1800’s. You might also see the spirit of Nettie, a prostitute from the same time period. Nettie was struck by lightning as she stood on the porch of the place where she worked."
As the tourists walked, they could see the tall steeple of St. Phillips Church rising into the sky in front of them. "If you should find yourself walking along the South Battery, be sure to stop by Number 20, the Battery Carriage House Inn. A headless torso dressed in a Civil War era uniform has been seen often floating above the bed in room number 8. A ghostly gentleman visits female guests who stay in room 10, we think looking for love and companionship, but when they object, he quickly leaves through the walls. Ostensibly it is the spirit of a man in the early 20th century that jumped from the roof of the hotel and died."
"He’d better leave you alone, Trix," Jim mumbled, almost under his breath. She looked up at him quickly and then away as she realized what he had said.
Jason had led them down Cumberland Street to an alley that ran behind St. Phillips. "We’re at the last stop on our trip. This is what is formally called Philadelphia Alley. Charlestonians call it, Bloody Alley. The deep South is famous for it’s history of defending one’s southern honor and the best way of doing that was to declare a duel which is what happened in 1786.
"A young Dr. Joseph Ladd, new in Charleston from New England, had established a fine practice here. A Mr. Ralph Isaacs saved him from some threatening men and they became friends. But Mr. Isaacs soon became jealous of the success that Dr. Ladd had cultivated in Charleston. The rivalry escalated and eventually lead to a duel. Ladd decided to do the honorable thing and fired his pistol into the air. Isaacs, however, had no such inclination and put a bullet through Ladd’s kneecaps. Three weeks later, Ladd died of gangrene.
"Ladd was a resident at 59 Church Street, just a few blocks up and over, but as it’s residential property, city ordinance forbids us to go there. If you were to go there, you might hear the sound of the whistling of an English ballad, a favorite habit of Dr. Ladd’s, or you might see him ascending the stairs of his residence once more."
Jason smiled at his listeners. "Folks, that’s the extent of our tour tonight. I’m happy that you chose to join me and I hope that you will consider taking one or more of the other tours that we offer. If you need directions to your next destination, or have any other questions, please feel free to stay and ask me."
The BWGs and Regan, along with the other guests clapped for Jason, who gave a slight bow and grinned. The guests from Vancouver began walking towards the market while the South Dakotans asked Jason for directions to the Hagen Daas they had seen earlier in the day. Soon, he turned towards the five remaining guests.
"What can I do for you folks?"
Trixie, usually the spokesperson for the group when it did not involve matters of tact, began. "We were wondering if you could tell us a little about the purpose of ghosts, why they appear, why they stay. What makes one leave and maybe what one can do to either summon one, or see one?"
"Well, many say that ghosts typically appear when their death involves injustice, or perhaps the need for revenge... some even seek what they did not have in life." He paused. "Is this the type of information you were looking for?"
"Yes," Trixie began. "Are those the only reasons? Is there anything else you can tell us?"
"Well..." Jason stopped. "If you guys are really interested in this stuff, I’m done for the night. If you want, we can go grab something to drink and I’ll see what I can do to help you out."
Trixie looked around at the others, who nodded.
"Awesome," he grinned. "We can go to the Southend Brewery. It’s right up the street and they have a ghost too." He turned and led them through the alley and down the street a few blocks to a three-story building on the corner of East Bay Street.
Meanwhile, Mr. Wheeler was making the rounds again this time in the Great Hall of the Old Exchange and Provost Dungeon. Yvette had mentioned to them this morning as they had driven off from the building that the second floor held what was called the Great Hall, once used for political and social events. George Washington had been entertained there no less than three times. The hall was still used for such events at least three times a week, she continued.
He had spent much of the first half of the event on the sidelines, perusing his fellow businessmen. Old and new acquaintances alike passed by and stopped to make conversation with him. No one however, seemed the least bit concerned about anything amiss. He had spoken once again to Jerry Lawrence from Cityguard. Jerry had seemed just as agitated as he had before, especially after hearing about the horses.
"Matt – be careful. Again, there’s not much I can tell you. But I do know that you need to watch your back."
"Jerry, if you can tell me something that will protect me, or my property, I need to know it."
"That's just it. I can’t tell you anything. I am sure you’ve figured out that there is something more sinister going on than some verbal controversy and that what happened to your horses is probably related to it. But whoever is responsible for it, we’ve yet to determine. I do know however that you’re here representing one of the most important companies here. You’re a prime target."
Matt sighed. "And Jerry, you know I’ve already discovered that. But you don’t think that they’ll give up? For whatever reason, they didn’t finish the job on my horses."
"Matt," Jerry continued, shaking his head. "They’ll finish it in some other way. Be careful."
Matt merely looked at him for a few moments, and then gave a brief smile. "I’ll heed your warning. But I’ll be okay."
Jerry shook hands with his friend and after making plans to lunch together the next day, the two men parted. Matt Wheeler was not to stand alone for too long however. David Leigh, the man with whom Matt had briefly spoken to at the Omni earlier in the week pounded him on the back in greeting.
"Matt, my boy, standing all alone over here? Why aren’t you enjoying the party. Such a wonderful place this is, don’t you agree? Fascinating to be standing in a room almost 250 years old. Just think, George Washington might have stood in exactly the same places as us." It took very little for Matt to realize that David Leigh had had imbibed slightly too much in the way of spirits.
"David, how are you?"
"Absolutely wonderful. Couldn’t be better. But if you don’t mind me saying so... you look a little worse for the wear. What’s up?"
Matt smiled. "It’s nothing. I’d just like to be done with this business so I can enjoy spending time with my family here."
"Ah, yes. And where are your children and their friends this evening?"
"They’ve gone to take a ghost tour of the city."
"Interested in ghosts are they?"
"Trixie and Honey are interested in anything remotely resembling a mystery. And I believe Jim, Mart and Regan are along for the sheer entertainment value."
"Mysteries, eh? And how does this sit with you?" His grin was somewhat that of a shark.
Matt looked at the floor and then off in the distance. "Let’s just say that this red hair will be white long before it’s time. But to their credit, they have managed to get out of some rather dire situations."
David merely smiled, raising his drink in a faux toast. "And what are their plans for tomorrow? Have they managed to see much of the city?"
"Yes, actually. And I believe they mentioned something about going to Patriot’s Point and Fort Sumter tomorrow. Apparently you need all day to tour both places."
"I have heard that is true. And they are fine venues, to be sure. There is nothing so fine as to tour the installations in this country that have provided defense of our nation," he stated loudly, slapping Matt solidly on the back once again. "You, of course, will be at the meetings tomorrow?"
"Of course," Matt returned. "Perhaps we can have that drink in the afternoon?"
"Let me contact you tomorrow. It should be fine, but there is a chance I might be in a long conference call with the office at some point during the day," David smiled.
Matt merely nodded, trying not to smile as he remembered that probably the last thing David needed anything of was spirits – and not the ghostly kind. He watched as the man moved off, sending his booming greetings to everyone in his path, and a few who weren’t.
Chapter 23
A pub-like sign hanging in the doorway announced the place as the Southend Brewery. Within minutes, the Bob-Whites, Regan and Jason were seated and had sodas placed in front of them. They had exchanged names and now were ready to hear more from their guide.
"The other main reason I believe that haunts come back from the dead is to give warning. There are two major examples I can think of. The first is somewhat more local than the other one but both of them, I believe, involve the same pattern: a warning."
Trixie quickly looked up at the others. She wondered just how much information they should give to Jason. Perhaps they would not have to give him any at all if he could somehow inadvertently give them some advice as to how to draw out the ghost of Jeremy Bloodsworth. And what to do with him when they did.
"The Grey Man of Pawley’s Island is a well known tale in the Carolinas. According to numerous accounts, he appears as a dark grey figure walking on the beach just before hurricanes. Those who see him say he is warning them to leave the island. Carolinians are infamous for being obstinate in not wanting to leave when a hurricane is on the way. But apparently, if you heed his warning and leave, you will return to the island and find your home untouched.
"Legend has it that a young woman on Pawley’s Island waited for her love to come to her from Georgetown. Taking his manservant with him, this man began a trip on horseback to her. He set off, his servant traveling some degree behind him. Horse and rider soon met what appeared to be dangerous quicksand but it was too late to stop. Watching, and unable to do anything, the manservant saw his master horse perish as he was consumed.
"The young woman was tragically affected by the news and wandered the beach over and over in mourning. After the funeral, she took to the beach again, this time, glimpsing a figure walking towards her that looked like her fiancée. She moved towards it but before she could reach the figure, it spoke, telling her to leave the island – that she was in danger.
"She ran home to tell her mother and father who fortunately listened and began preparations to leave for their inland home, not knowing what they were fleeing. That night, a hurricane ravaged the island. They returned to find every home destroyed, except for their own.
"That story has been told so many times, and the accounts are always the same. And there is no explanation for the protection that is bestowed upon the houses of the people who listen to the warning. I have to believe that the man comes back to warn others about the hurricane and then provides protection for their homes," Jason finished, taking a sip of his root beer. "In answer to the other questions that you were asking, how he comes back and provides this protection I have no idea. Of course, the signal for him to appear is a hurricane. You can’t apparently just make him appear, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that would induce him to leave.
"You said there were two examples?" Regan asked.
"The other is somewhat more well-known outside of South Carolina circles. You might have even heard of it yourselves.
"There is little other word for this next story, than weird. Although I believe wholeheartedly in every tale you’ve been told tonight, as is usually the case with stories involving events that occurred some hundreds of years ago in some instances, one has to suspend more skepticism than normal. This one however... this one has too many witnesses, and is too substantiated to be passed on as a mere urban legend. It involves the town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia and began as an oddity and ended in a national tragedy."
Mart had looked up sharply as Jason spoke. "Point Pleasant. You’d be speaking of the Mothman, wouldn’t you?"
"Have you seen the movie, or do you know the actual story?"
"Both," Mart smiled.
"Then you know there are varying accounts of what to make of the Mothman. Basically, beginning in November 1966 to December 1967, there were continuous sightings of a figure described as a tall man-like bird with glowing red eyes. The descriptions of this figure are all the same. It has a stature of over 7 feet tall with a wingspan reaching 10 feet. It’s eyes, in addition to being glowing red, are also hypnotizing. It can take off into flight from a straight standing position. As far as what it does to people, it apparently feeds on, or mutilates dogs – of any size. It chases cars but at the same time can be drawn to and protective of young children.
"Sightings were reported from many in the town of every age and position. Town authorities never found any reason to doubt what the town’s people were seeing. News of the sightings spread worldwide and the creature was finally dubbed the "Mothman", after the TV series "Batman", which was popular at the time. John Keel, paranormal author has researched and written of the Mothman and has stated that at least 100 people in the Point Pleasant area of West Virginia witnessed the Mothman during the period from 1966 to 1967."
"You mentioned that the whole thing ended with a national tragedy?" Honey broke into the silence following his words.
"On December 15, 1967, the Silver Bridge over the Ohio River that connected West Virginia with Ohio collapsed into the river. It was a Friday evening during rush hour and 46 people lost their lives when cars on the bridge plunged into the river. Now, plausible explanations have been given as to why the bridge collapsed. The bridge was the first of it’s kind at the time, and even though the bridge passed the watchful eyes of engineers of the day, we had no controls or inspections and the design, much like the Tacoma Narrows Bridge in Washington State, was flawed."
"Jason, I’m sorry," Trixie said with a puzzled look. "But I’m just not seeing how this relates to paranormal warnings."
He smiled. "It really depends on whose opinion you listen to. I’m inclined to believe in the angle that the movie version last year took. There are some," he conceded, "that believe that the Mothman was responsible for the bridge disaster. But I don’t. Others and myself believe that the Mothman was trying to warn residents. You see this route taken in the movie. I don’t want to give away anything in case you have not seen it. But some evidence does suggest this. Without going into details, it is noted that in a few instances, children, and their families who saw the Mothman were somehow prevented from being on the bridge when they otherwise had plans that would have taken them on it. The Mothman sounds like a terrifying creature and from all accounts, no doubt it was, but as far as creating harm for humans, there really was none. It could be that for all of the animal mutilations – it simply had to eat. But, and I think most of all, the sightings virtually disappeared after the tragedy. I guess that’s where the idea of the Mothman being a warning came from. In any case, these are the two prime examples I can think of to support the case that paranormal beings can return, or appear in order to serve a warning to someone."
"Apparently, it seems, "Regan said dryly, "the warnings were delivered in the wrong manner. It doesn’t seem anyone really knew what it was there for. Or in the least, the warnings came too late for some."
"That’s a possibility. Perhaps people found the presence too much to take to believe that it came for benign reasons. I don’t know that the warnings were late though. Some were saved. I think that the art of prophesying isn’t an exact science. And unless one holds a seance or some other form of calling up the dead, there’s no real hope of making sure that everyone gets the message.
"I would say though, that I firmly think that belief has something to do with it. Haunts don’t like it when they’re not believed in. I think they either appear in such ways as to make sure that folks believe in them, or they just stay away. One thing that I would say is that haunts are most prevalent at a place that is familiar to them for some reason. Perhaps it’s the place of their death, or a place that meant something special to them in life. If I really wanted to feel the presence of a particular spook, I’d figure out where that place was and go there." He stopped and took the last sip of his root beer.
"Now, most folks don’t have nearly as much interest in this subject, or at least not the intensity. Is there a particular reason that y’all are?" Jason asked, leaning back with a narrowed look of curiosity on his features.
Trixie looked at the others before speaking, trying to digest his information. "Honestly, Jason – there might be. We’re just not sure. We don’t know."
Jason nodded slowly. "Well – Trixie – how about this. When you figure out what you do know, or can tell me – if you do have a real ghost, let me be the first to know?"
"I think we can safely say that," she grinned.
"Deal." He stood up. "You’re at the Mills House, right? Are you headed back there now?"
Five heads nodded in agreement.
"I’m headed to the tour offices. I’ll walk with you that far and tell you the story of poor George and why he haunts this very place we’re sitting in." They looked around at each other, grinning as they followed him outside where, on their way to the hotel, he told them the story of a man who staked his life on a last shipment of cotton that burned up in flames in Charleston Harbor before his very gaze. George hung himself on the third floor of the South End Brewery, what was then the office of his families business, and had apparently never left.
Before they parted ways, Jason handed Trixie a slip of paper with his phone number on it. "You call me if you come across anything you think I’d be interested in hearing," he grinned earnestly. "And enjoy the rest of your stay here in Charleston."
"We will," she smiled back at him. "And thanks for your help."
The Bob-Whites and Regan made their way to the Mill’s House and upstairs to the boys’ room. Moving to the window, Honey apprehensively looked out on Poogan’s Porch. Seeing nothing, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the others. "So what do we do now. It doesn’t sound as though there is any way we can draw out Mr. Bloodsworth or help him make his warning before the next disaster occurs. I feel so helpless that we just have to wait for the next thing to happen."
"Maybe not," Trixie mused, pacing back and forth.
"What do you mean, Trix?" Mart asked.
"Well, according to Yvette, her husband was never able to appear in time to ultimately prevent tragedies from happening. But, if we can manage to figure out who is responsible for what’s happening here, it will help us solve the mystery and maybe inadle – onible... allow Jeremy to finally rest in peace."
"There’s only one problem with that," Regan said with stern frown marring his normally relaxed features..
"What?"
"You’ve been forbidden to investigate anything, and even if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t let you do it on your own. And tomorrow my meetings start. I won’t be able to be with you guys until three days from tomorrow."
"Regan..." Trixie began.
"No, Trixie. Matt Wheeler would never forgive me if anything happened to you all and frankly, I’d never forgive myself. Let the police handle this one. Jeremy Bloodsworth will have to take care of himself. If he can make a warning if need be, so be it. But if not, we’ll just have to hope that the police get to the bottom of this before anything else happens. Now, I’m off to bed." He stopped just in front of Trixie. Turning to especially include Honey in his gaze, he spoke once more. "I’m not immune to your worries about Matt. And I’m trying not to be insensitive to them. But whoever is responsible for these events has killed. That accident on the bridge could have been much worse. So could the incident at the ballpark I imagine. This is way out of your league. Leave it alone." He turned and walked through the door.
"Argh!" Trixie let out a sound of frustration. "We have got to do something. I think we should talk to Yvette tomorrow. Maybe if we tell her what Jason said about haunts returning to significant places she’ll has some idea of how we can get in touch with Jeremy."
"I think Trixie is right. Because Regan’s right about one thing. We don’t have any idea who is behind this. If we can’t catch up with them, maybe we can go about helping another way and getting some assistance from an outside source," Jim added.
"Why don’t we call her now before bed," Honey said, walking to the phone, beside which they had laid down Yvette’s number. Within a few seconds, she heard Yvette's voice answering.
"This is Honey."
"How are you, my dear?" came her voice.
"Well, we have some things we’d like to talk to you about. Can you meet us tomorrow?"
"My day is pretty full, booked with tours. But I can meet you for dinner."
"Dinner?" Honey cupped her hand around the phone and looked for affirmation from the others who quickly nodded.
"How about Hyman’s at 7?"
"Sounds great. Where is it?"
"Come out the front door of your hotel and turn left. Keep walking past the market and Hyman’s will be on the left just beyond the Omni."
"Okay, Yvette. We’ll meet you there." And they hung up. Just as she was doing so, there was a knock on the door.
Jim opened it to find his dad standing there. "Just thought I’d stick my head in and say good night. How was the tour?"
"It was wonderful daddy," Honey said, coming over to give him a hug.
"And tomorrow you’re off to Fort Sumter?"
"Yes, and Patriot’s Point."
"I’d go with you but I have one more day of meetings and presentations. Regan starts his conference tomorrow as well."
"We’ll be fine daddy."
"Okay then. I’ll meet you all downstairs for breakfast." Smiling, he gave Honey one last hug and clapped Jim’s shoulder, quietly backing out of the door. The girls crossed over to their room and the Bob-Whites soon fell into a restless sleep.
The next day...
"Spooks and perilous activities notwithstanding, I anticipate that this journey of ours will be a most fascinating morn and afternoon of being effused with patriotic American History," Mart said in his usual 3 and over syllable word sentences.
"If you mean that we’re going to have a great time today despite what’s been going on, you’re right." Trixie reached for the tickets that Jim had handed her. They had reached the Maritime museum upon opening at 8:30 o’clock that morning and it had taken little time to purchase their tickets to see the ships in the harbor as well as Fort Sumter.
"The person selling the tickets said that we catch the boat to Fort Sumter every three hours over there." Jim pointed at a white passenger ferry parked just shortly down the dock. "But she suggested that we wait until the 1:30 tour when it’s a little hotter and we could use the breeze more."
"Sounds good to me," Mart said. "I say we make our way down to the ships. I’ve heard that the World War II Submarine is so tiny that anyone with remote claustrophobic problems shouldn’t go in. Come on, let’s go." The other three Bob-Whites had to admire Mart’s enthusiasm. Laughingly, they made their way to the gate entrance where a ticket taker tore their passes and they entered the walkway that led to the four ships of the Patriot’s Point Museum. At the end of the walkway that led about the length of a football team out into the water, they stopped to decide which ship to visit first.
"The submarine shouldn’t take as long to go through," Jim said. "Why don’t we go ahead and do that first. If we work our way to the other two ships, we’ll end up saving the aircraft carrier with enough time to tour it and then have lunch in the snack bar before we head to Fort Sumter. If we don’t get around to the whole ship, we can see the rest of it when we get back from Sumter. We’ll still have time."
"Sounds like a plan," Mart added. "I understand that we can take our lunch down into one of the galleys to eat. That will be neat. I just hope the snack bar has enough food to feed me."
Honey laughed. "I’m sure they will Mart. And if they don’t, we’ll just hang you over the edge. You can catch a fish and have the snack bar cook it for you."
"Ah, a most intricate skill that I myself am not particularly adept at. But I shall take you up on your offer tonight as we dine and feast on the delicacies of species from the river and ocean."
"Mart, I am almost glad to see that things have returned to normal," Trixie said, I was beginning to think that you had forgotten some of the words you spent the last 5 years memorizing.
"Even I can get a little awed by the majestic beauty of a city that’s over 300 years old. I’ll try and regale you with my superior knowledge more often, now that I know you have missed it," he finished, with a grin in her direction. She merely rolled her eyes as she looked back at him.
Chapter 24
They had, by this time, reached the entrance to the submarine. A short plank stretched from the concrete pier to the top of the vessel. Mart walked across boldly and deftly climbed down into the ship with Trixie following. Honey, more cautiously and gingerly, stepped down the narrow ladder that was so vertical it might have been easier to slide down holding the hand rails as she had seen in movies, she thought. Jim was the last one down. They began to walk through the long and very narrow corridor. As they were the only ones aboard, Mart recited to them the facts from the brochure they had received upon paying for their tickets.
"The USS Clamagore was commissioned in 1945 near the end of World War II. She was used in the Atlantic and Mediterranean waters until just before the end of the Vietnam conflict. She was decommissioned in 1975 as one of the Navy’s last diesel powered submarines."
"I definitely could not live on one of theses," Honey said, looking into the berthing area of the crew. The beds were no more than 4 feet long.
"I’m pretty sure that you had to be a certain height to work on a sub," Mart said, "much like you’re supposed to be in a certain height range to be an air force pilot or a state trooper. I believe Trix could have been on a submarine," he teased.
"Dear almost-twin, you’re not that much taller than I am. You’d have been in here right beside me," Trix laughed good-naturedly. Although she didn’t want to completely forget about the events that had transpired in the past few, she was able to put it out of her mind until later that evening. They continued walking and soon reached the end of the submarine and climbed up the ladder to the outside. The next ship on the walkway was the Destroyer Laffey.
Although there were now other tourists walking about, this ship was much larger and Mart was still able to deliver his discourse on it’s history. "The Laffey is a destroyer that was commissioned in 1944 before either the Pacific or the European War had come to a close. It’s troops participated in D-Day in Normandy and in a battle off Okinawa in April even though she had been badly hit early on during the latter of these two significant conflicts. She served in Korea and was also decommissioned in 1975. She received a total of 7 battle stars before her retirement."
Although the quarters on the Laffey were larger and more spacious in a way than those on the submarine, neither girl this time was sure that she would have wanted to live on the vessel for any amount of time. Jim and Mart were fascinated however with the rooms, passages, knobs and controls on the ship.
"As much as I love this country," Honey said looking sternly at Jim, "don’t you think about joining up. I don’t know that I could stand the worry."
"Come on, sis, you know you’d be proud of me," he grinned.
She relented with a sigh. "Of course I would Jim. I’d support anything you chose to do, especially if it was to fight for this country. But that’s not to say that I wouldn’t go out of my mind with worry."
He laughed lightly and took her chin in his palm. "And you don’t think I already worry about you, and your choice of career?" He looked over at Trixie as they moved on. "And that goes for you as well, Sherlock. I worry about both of you," he sighed as they approached the exit for the destroyer.
Trixie tried to keep her light-hearted mood, even though Jim’s words had given her pause, as they approached the third of four ships at the site. The Coast Guard Cutter Ingham was next on their list. The white ship looked less imposing than the destroyer, and Honey was glad to move away from the doom. Ironically, the Ingham was older than the other two ships, having been commissioned in 1936, Mart mentioned to them.
"She was credited with sinking the German U-boat U-626 and ran at least 31 convoys during 1942 to 1943. She won presidential citations during Vietnam and also aided in the War Against Drugs before being decommissioned in the 80’s."
"Some pretty distinguished service here," Trixie said. "These will definitely give us some great information for our projects. They spent the next half hour looking around the Coast Guard Cutter and eventually made it back up to the walkway that would take them back to the final and largest ship of the museum, the aircraft carrier Yorktown.
Their tour map described 9 separate tour routes that they could follow. After agreeing to meet back at the snack bar which was located in the hangar, they split up, Trixie and Honey had more interest in viewing the living quarters, infirmary, ship store and more personable aspects of the floating city. Jim and Mart were hanging back to look at the flight simulator and aircraft display in the hangar and then planned to go on the tour that would take them to the control and briefing rooms.
The Yorktown that they were currently touring had been nicknamed the "Fighting Lady" during her World War II service. The original Yorktown had been sunk at the Battle of Midway in 1942. Her namesake had gone on to receive 11 battle stars for service in the rest of the war.
At the designated time, Trixie, Honey, Jim and Mart met back in the hangar to eat and share their stories. Before they realized it, it was time to catch the boat to Fort Sumter. At the rear of the passenger ferry were two ledges, underneath which were located life jackets. The ledges were the rearmost surface the Bob-Whites could find to sit on in the back of the boat, which was uncovered. As the day was sunny and hot, the breeze was welcome. Soon, they were underway.
The Captain of the ship began the trip to Sumter by describing the sights that they were seeing along the shoreline. It was a treat for the Bob-Whites to see the very places they had stood and passed, from a different point of view. They could all imagine what it must have been like to come into the harbor as an immigrant, sailor or worker on a ship. Much like their experience, it was a different trip than journey down the Mississippi, but not better or worse, only different.
Within 45 minutes, the boat had docked at Fort Sumter, approximately a mile out in Charleston Harbor. Everyone filed off onto the dock and waited for the park ranger as directed. He came up to them and watched to see that everyone was listening.
"Good afternoon and welcome to Fort Sumter National Historic Site. I’m ranger John Evans. I hope that you enjoy your tour today and will find the fort to be educational and enjoyable as well. There are a few rules to observe and if you’ll allow me to go over those, you’ll be able to either stay for the introductory spiel about the fort, or immediately wander off on your own. The foundation you are standing on was built in the 1820’s and therefore the building is very old. Although it’s stable, it is filled with the intricacies and nuances in the firmament that have a way of jumping out at you. In other words, be very careful and help your children maneuver around the fort as well. When you are on the upper levels especially, take note of the iron chains that are found along the outer walls. When you see then plans for the structure, you’ll understand, but the drop from the sally port side of the fort is 30 feet straight into the ocean. I know it might be tempting to teach your children how to cliff dive here, but the waters at the edge are shallow.
"Please take note that the boat will be leaving at 3:45 on the dot. Therefore you need to be heading back to the boat by 3:30. For those of you who would like to hear the story of Fort Sumter, please stay. It should take about 5-10 minutes, leaving you plenty of time to see the fort and walk through the museum. Or you may go ahead and begin your own self-guided tour."
He stopped and waited for those who wanted to begin their own tour to move ahead into the fort. When everyone had settled down, he began his talk.
"Because the United States was primarily a coastal nation in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. It was very important to have defenses in the cities of the outlying areas and Fort Moultrie, just across the harbor on Sullivan’s Island served this purpose for years. Fort Sumter was built after the War of 1812. Began in 1829, it was still unfinished in 1860 when on December 25 of that year, after the uproar in the south over President Lincoln’s election, Major Robert Anderson moved his troops from their station on Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter under the cover of night. This angered Charlestonians, as the fort had been one of the only ones still occupied by Federal troops after the secession of southern states from the Union. Anderson refused to surrender the fort and on April 12, 1861, troops at Fort Johnson under the command of General Pierre Gustave Toutant Beauregard fired on Fort Sumter with a bunch of cadets from the Citadel. The battle lasted almost 36 hours and Anderson, who had less than a full compliment of cannon and the soldiers to operate them in the unfinished fort. Only one person was killed in the bombardment and ironically, the soldiers death was from an explosion occurring in the powder magazine." He pointed to a small tunnel towards the corner of the room.
"After the surrender at Appomattox in April 1865, almost 4 years to the day that the war began, Union troops reestablished their presence at all previously hostile sites. Major Anderson returned to Sumter and raised the Union flag above Fort Sumter once more. Now this fort was originally 5 stories high, but the war changed the face of the building changed drastically during the war. It was so badly damaged during the war that it was not intended to be used as a defense station again after 1865. The walls were partially rebuilt and Sumter was used as a lighthouse facility until 1897 but the Spanish American War in 1898 prompted the United States to build a concrete battery across the middle of the fort. During World War I, a small garrison was stationed here at the fort but essentially, Sumter saw the bulk of it’s use during the years 1861 to 1865. In 1948 Fort Sumter was designated a National Historic Monument and control reverted to the National Park Service. Folks, that’s all I have to say. There are many plaques and other such sources of information that you can find in the fort. If you have any questions, Ranger Wilson or I will be happy to assist you. Please enjoy your visit to Fort Sumter." He smiled at his guests and many wandered off to see the site while some stayed behind to ask them questions.
The Bob-Whites looked at their guide maps and decided to proceed through the museum that was located in the battery that Ranger Evans had talked about. Inside were numerous displays and demonstrations that told the story of Sumter in more detail. Lastly, on their way out of the door was the highlight of the museum, the actual flag that Major Anderson had taken down upon his surrender in 1861, and raised again upon the Union victory of the war in 1865.
"That was incredible," Jim said. "I never knew that so much history happened here! Hopefully one day we can get Brian, Di and Dan back down here with us."
"And hopefully it will be under slightly happier and less drastic circumstances," Honey sighed.
"I agree sis. But come on," he took her by the hand. "We can’t really do much until we talk tonight. Dad’s in meetings and I am sure everything is fine with him right now.
"Okay big brother," she gave a small smiled and followed him outside. They wandered up to the rear section of the fort where a series of flag poles with different flags were laid out from the different eras of the fort’s history.
Hey, they have a really neat display of Civil War cannon down on the bottom level," Mart said.
"I’m game," Jim said.
"Uh, I think we’ll pass," Trixie said, grinning at Honey who looked back at her with noticeable relief. "We’re heading for those plaques on the outer edge. They talk about various battles and things in the Harbor. I really think I want to do my fall term paper on some of Charleston’s military history. But I think I’ll leave out the specifics of how the cannons and guns worked." She winked at Jim as they turned away from the boys.
While Jim and Mart walked down the iron stairs to the cannon display, Trixie and Honey headed for the outside edge of the fort’s brick and stone foundation. Even though the once 5-story building had been knocked down to one story, the foundation had been built up so that the one remaining story began 15 feet off ocean depth. The iron rails were swinging in the wind as they approached. They had made their way around three of the plaques when the next one appeared, closer to the edge of the fort than previous ones. Gingerly looking over the rails, Honey noticed a speed-boat floating in the water below them. There didn’t appear to be anyone in it.
"I wonder if private guests are allowed to come up to tour the fort," Trixie asked with a frown.
"Maybe," Honey answered.
"But I would think that they would have to pull up to the dock like anyone else," Trixie returned.
"You’re exactly right, ladies. On all accounts."
The girls turned around to find a man standing behind them. He was wearing a light jacket and khakis with a polo shirt. Neither thought much about it until they noticed that one of his hands was in a pocket. And that pocket had the distinct shape of a gun pointing right at them. Honey gasped while Trixie moved back a step.
"Don’t scream or do anything that will draw attention to us. I’m am sure you’ve noticed the friend I have with me. I won’t hesitate to use it."
"What do you want from us," Trixie asked boldly.
"I want you to follow me. You would have no way of knowing this, but right now there is a man with your father. At my signal which can be given my sending a page through my phone, he will kill him. If you don’t do as I say, it will take less than 5 seconds for your father to die. And his death will be so seemingly normal that even the finest doctors will think that he died of a typical Type A personality heart attack."
"He’s bluffing, Honey."
The man turned to her. "Would you like to place a bet on that?"
She turned her nose up at him without answering.
"You won’t get away with this," Honey said in a low voice.
"We’ll see. Now, we’re going to head towards that area over there hidden by the hill down to the battery. Get moving."
Both girls looked around, desperately wishing Mart and Jim would appear. They knew however that even if they did, there was a chance Mr. Wheeler would be harmed. Neither was willing to take that chance. Fearfully they moved towards the hill with the man behind them. Reaching it and turning around to look at him, they could see that there was no way anyone visiting the fort would be able to see them here. He motioned them underneath the iron railing where they found a steep but passable cliff that lead down to the ocean water with a thin shoreline running around the fort. They reached the boat and followed the man’s directive to get in. He motioned for them to sit down in the floor of the craft and pulled out two lengths of rope. Carefully, he tied their hands in front of them, keeping an eye on the surface above. No one had appeared though and he quickly gunned the engine and pulled away from the fort and out towards the ocean and soon, too far away for the girls to call for help should anyone come. Honey moved closer to Trixie and in doing so, looked up at the wall of the fort. Jim and Mart stood looking at the boat in disbelief.
To Be Continued