I've been really wearing out this week, but I realize I haven't posted any goings-on for several days, so I thought I would try and get something up.
I think I'm having a low energy week and this place takes quite a bit of energy to deal with the language and walking around (see rant on cobblestones earlier) and just being out of your comfort zone.
The food has been awesome. E has had some problems with his digestion but I seem to be perking along in that department just fine. We've found a restaurant that serves excellent local food very near the school and have been there twice. It's called Taquiza and it's kind of a mom's home cooking kinda place and Mom runs a tight ship. The bathrooms are srupulously clean and she has all these rules posted about when she will and won't serve beer and who she will serve it to. For instance, no beer after 11pm and no beer if you are in a school uniform.
The 1st time we went I had a marvelous veggie dish of chopped green beans and carrots with crispy pieces of tortilla in a really, really tasty green sauce with a bit of white cheese sprinkled over it. The next time I had basically the same dish, except instead of the veggies, it had chicken in it. We're probably gonna hit that place once or twice a week while I'm here.
Last night we went Peruvian and I had a rice and black bean cake stuffed with shrimp and more shrimp and sauce poured over it. E and I then split a chocolate thing that was incredible.
One thing that E and I have both commented on and like is the fact that you get reasonable portions served and not enough food to feed a family of six. You can have a meal and not be so stuffed you can't move or feel miserable.
More on food later, I'm sure.
The rainy season started Sunday. That means that the day starts out lovely and sometime in the afternoon it starts to pour down rain. It pours for a while, then it stops, the sun may or may not come out, then it rains some more later. After it gets dark, it gets a bit cool but not too bad. There is nothing over our room except the wood ceiling and the roof tiles, so you can really hear the rain when it pours hard. It was very nice falling asleep to it last night. Also, the electricity has gotten quite lumpy now that it's raining so much. It has blinked off and on several times while we've been here and yesterday afternoon it was off for about 2 hours. It really plays havoc with all the electronics.
Well, I'm really tired so I'm closing this for now. Hope to get a power nap in before dinner.
Your correspondent in Antigua - Mel
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Cobblestones - quaint, atmospheric feature or ankle breaking hazard
Sunday, May 27, 2:30pm -
Again, the internet connection is up and down, so I’ll post this online after things improve.
It’s been rainy here. Last night it poured and today started out sunny early and then got cloudy and cooler with scattered rain.
The whole of Antigua proper is “paved” with cobblestones. Oh, that sounds very quaint and European, you might say, and I suppose it is in theory. In practicality, it makes for fillings- rattlling, bone jarring travel by any vehicle. I had considered the possibility of renting a scooter or a bicycle while I was here, but immediately dropped that idea as soon as we were driven into Antigua by our driver from the airport. Yet, people are driving everywhere; in cars, chicken buses, tuk-tuks, bicycles and motor scooters. I’m not even sure why tho’, you can walk from one side of Antigua to the other in under an hour.
Not only are the cobblestones brain bouncing to ride upon, they are very tricky to walk on as well, yet I see young Guate women walking down the sidewalks and across the streets in 3”-4” heels and not breaking their ankles. I’m amazed.
Not only are the streets treacherous, but the sidewalks make for an interesting stroll as well. They are very narrow in most places and we often have to walk into the street to pass people. Most of them are not in very good shape either. It just doesn’t seem to be a high priority of the owners of the property to spend money to repair the walk in front of their buildings. If I manage to not get an ankle sprain while I’m here, it will be a major accomplishment.
I have a theory as to why Antigua has not paved their streets and gotten rid of the cobblestones. Aside from the money it would cost, I think the cobblestones are probably more forgiving and easier to repair in case of earthquake. The cobblestones probably just shift around during an earthquake and don’t get too much worse than they already are. If some section gets too lifted up, all that would have to be done is take the stones out of that section, level it off and replace the stones. Voila! Ready to rattle your bones again.
The cobblestones are definitely one of the things that make Antigua, Antigua, but it’s one of the things I’m personally less than thrilled with.
Again, the internet connection is up and down, so I’ll post this online after things improve.
It’s been rainy here. Last night it poured and today started out sunny early and then got cloudy and cooler with scattered rain.
The whole of Antigua proper is “paved” with cobblestones. Oh, that sounds very quaint and European, you might say, and I suppose it is in theory. In practicality, it makes for fillings- rattlling, bone jarring travel by any vehicle. I had considered the possibility of renting a scooter or a bicycle while I was here, but immediately dropped that idea as soon as we were driven into Antigua by our driver from the airport. Yet, people are driving everywhere; in cars, chicken buses, tuk-tuks, bicycles and motor scooters. I’m not even sure why tho’, you can walk from one side of Antigua to the other in under an hour.
Not only are the cobblestones brain bouncing to ride upon, they are very tricky to walk on as well, yet I see young Guate women walking down the sidewalks and across the streets in 3”-4” heels and not breaking their ankles. I’m amazed.
Not only are the streets treacherous, but the sidewalks make for an interesting stroll as well. They are very narrow in most places and we often have to walk into the street to pass people. Most of them are not in very good shape either. It just doesn’t seem to be a high priority of the owners of the property to spend money to repair the walk in front of their buildings. If I manage to not get an ankle sprain while I’m here, it will be a major accomplishment.
I have a theory as to why Antigua has not paved their streets and gotten rid of the cobblestones. Aside from the money it would cost, I think the cobblestones are probably more forgiving and easier to repair in case of earthquake. The cobblestones probably just shift around during an earthquake and don’t get too much worse than they already are. If some section gets too lifted up, all that would have to be done is take the stones out of that section, level it off and replace the stones. Voila! Ready to rattle your bones again.
The cobblestones are definitely one of the things that make Antigua, Antigua, but it’s one of the things I’m personally less than thrilled with.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
More photos are up
I've posted a few more photos. I apologize for the random order. I'm still getting used to what I can do in Flickr and what I have to do before I upload them. I promise the next batch will be in a more logical order.
Saturday news - Week One
Saturday am aproximento son nueves menos cuarto (approx. 9:45)
We had a brief power failure last night and internet connectivity has been spotty since then, so I’m composing this off-line and will upload it when I can.
Well, we finished our 1st week here and I can tell I know more español now then I did on Monday, but I feel like a slow child, plus my spelling is for s**t. Tony and Diego, our teachers, are very patient with us however. Tony is the more serious one, but very kind. Diego, who is also our salsa dance teacher is more fun and joking all the time. We have a lot of laughs as we try and say things.
We are managing to communicate with the cook and the housekeeper here at Casa Ovalle but it is sometimes frustrating on both sides, but we all seem to keep a sense of humor about it. Right now, I’m waiting for Cristina’s laundry to be done, so I can start ours. Just like back home.
We are going to spend the morning at la casa while I finish the laundry and we see how much connectivity we can get. We’ll go out for lunch when we get hungry and maybe to an internet cafe (which are *everywhere*) to see if connectivity is any better. Then I want to do some shopping.
And speaking of shopping, I found this great purple cotton skirt for $10 US and an aqua blusa (blouse) for the *outrageous* price of $23 US the other night. In USA they would have easily run over $50 US, if not more.
Gonna go do stuff now, like make flash cards for nouns y verbos (verbs) and see if I can get this loaded on my blog.
We had a brief power failure last night and internet connectivity has been spotty since then, so I’m composing this off-line and will upload it when I can.
Well, we finished our 1st week here and I can tell I know more español now then I did on Monday, but I feel like a slow child, plus my spelling is for s**t. Tony and Diego, our teachers, are very patient with us however. Tony is the more serious one, but very kind. Diego, who is also our salsa dance teacher is more fun and joking all the time. We have a lot of laughs as we try and say things.
We are managing to communicate with the cook and the housekeeper here at Casa Ovalle but it is sometimes frustrating on both sides, but we all seem to keep a sense of humor about it. Right now, I’m waiting for Cristina’s laundry to be done, so I can start ours. Just like back home.
We are going to spend the morning at la casa while I finish the laundry and we see how much connectivity we can get. We’ll go out for lunch when we get hungry and maybe to an internet cafe (which are *everywhere*) to see if connectivity is any better. Then I want to do some shopping.
And speaking of shopping, I found this great purple cotton skirt for $10 US and an aqua blusa (blouse) for the *outrageous* price of $23 US the other night. In USA they would have easily run over $50 US, if not more.
Gonna go do stuff now, like make flash cards for nouns y verbos (verbs) and see if I can get this loaded on my blog.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Our field trip today
Today after the morning class and a light lunch at a crepes place, the school arranged a trip to a park in San Lucas. They brought a light picnic for us to eat, but most of our money that we paid to go on the trip goes to an organization that brings Guatemaltico children from Antigua and Guatemala City to this park for them to spend some time in a place of nature. There are swings and a trampoline for them to play on. They also have pens of goats and chickens and a dog that lives there. There is a house for them to be able to stay overnight.
One of the people at Casa de Lingua works with several different groups that do things like this and also arrange for poor Guatemala City children to come spend 2 weeks in Antigua and for poor Antiguan children to spend 2 weeks at a time in Guatemala City in order to experience city life.
Most of the explanation of this was in Spanish when we got to the park. I got the gist of that explanation, but the conversation that followed was lost on me. It concerned what some of the various countries represented by our group did in order to assist poor children and families.
It was an interesting trip, nonetheless, and I glad some of the money we give to the school goes to assisting them to assist these various organizations.
One of the people at Casa de Lingua works with several different groups that do things like this and also arrange for poor Guatemala City children to come spend 2 weeks in Antigua and for poor Antiguan children to spend 2 weeks at a time in Guatemala City in order to experience city life.
Most of the explanation of this was in Spanish when we got to the park. I got the gist of that explanation, but the conversation that followed was lost on me. It concerned what some of the various countries represented by our group did in order to assist poor children and families.
It was an interesting trip, nonetheless, and I glad some of the money we give to the school goes to assisting them to assist these various organizations.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Oh, yeah! Photos
I've finally got some photos up on Flickr. Click on the link under my profile, to the right. There is a set for Antigua. Or you click on the title of this post and it will take you there as well. Let me know if that doesn't work for you.
Antigua - Not for the directionally impaired
Reporting after an exhausting day to day. We left for class at 7:45am and returned home about 5:30pm. We had our regular morning class until noon. Went and found some lunch then returned to the school to watch a documentary on the civil war that the US helped the in power army operate against the poor and native Indian population. It was very sad and depressing and made me want to start saying I'm Canadian. Yet, no one seems to hold it against any of the Estadounidense (US citizens) that come here to enjoy their country. After that, we had a group salsa dance class. Then we walked slowly and sweatingly home.
There is a social gathering tonight at one of the cafes near the school. We'll see how tired we are after we get dinner.
Antigua is not very big and Eddie and I are both pretty good at figuring out where we are in relation to where we want to go and we have several well laid out maps, *BUT* anyone who has trouble negotiating their way around probably will get very frustrated here. Most of the streets do not have the names posted on the corners. In fact, many of them still have the old names which are not used any more and are not on the map except for a few of the streets at the edges of the main part of town. To top it off, many of the street corners have few distinguishing features to tell them from any other street corner. It's been a challenge to say the least.
That's all for now. - Melinda
There is a social gathering tonight at one of the cafes near the school. We'll see how tired we are after we get dinner.
Antigua is not very big and Eddie and I are both pretty good at figuring out where we are in relation to where we want to go and we have several well laid out maps, *BUT* anyone who has trouble negotiating their way around probably will get very frustrated here. Most of the streets do not have the names posted on the corners. In fact, many of them still have the old names which are not used any more and are not on the map except for a few of the streets at the edges of the main part of town. To top it off, many of the street corners have few distinguishing features to tell them from any other street corner. It's been a challenge to say the least.
That's all for now. - Melinda
Monday, May 21, 2007
First day of school
Hello again, everyone. Well, today we started at Casa de Lingua. It was a busy and tiring morning. We have two instructors; Tony and Diego. Diego will also be our salsa dance instructor. Class was from 8am until 12 noon. We had a brief break about 9:15 in order for one of the administrators to tell us about some of the events that are scheduled and give us a brief tour of the school.
The system is conversationally based. We started with the basics. Soy llame es Melinda. Soy es de Estados Unidos. a, be, ce, de, etc. There are 2 young women in the class besides Eddie and I. They are Canadian and are spending the summer traveling around Cent. Amer. I was very impressed. I don't think I would have had the nerve to do what they are doing at their age. However, I have to say, I think Eddie and I are having an easier time picking up what the teacher is saying and what we are supposed to say. Even with our old brains.
I will talk more about the school and classes later. Yesterday, I described where we are staying. Today I would like to talk about desayuno (breakfast). Casa Familia de Ovalle will serve you either breakfast or breakfast and dinner as part of your cost. We opted to go with just breakfast, but with the option to have occasional dinners here, which we will do tonight.
I don't know how dinner will be, but breakfast has been incredible. Yesterday and again today. There's enough food for 8 people. When we come to the table there are two kinds of breakfast cereal available, a pitcher of fresh, whole milk and a pitcher of orange juice. A large bowl of yogurt with maybe papaya mixed in and I like their yogurt here too, better than that awful stuff they sell in the states. A large bowl of pan (bread), at least 4 different kinds. Strawberry jam that is not too sweet. A small plate of what looks like lunchmeat and American cheese, which we haven't bothered with and another plate of white semi-soft cheese. That's just to keep you until Cristina can fix and serve the bowl of negros refritos (black refried beans) and eggs. Yesterday they were poached (I think) with a green sauce of some kind. Today they were scrambled with tomato. Oh yeah, yesterday there was a plate of tomatos and a plate of papaya. Today there was a plate of sliced pineapples.
It's a good thing we are walking, walking, walking everywhere or I'd end up being 3 times as big as when I left.
The system is conversationally based. We started with the basics. Soy llame es Melinda. Soy es de Estados Unidos. a, be, ce, de, etc. There are 2 young women in the class besides Eddie and I. They are Canadian and are spending the summer traveling around Cent. Amer. I was very impressed. I don't think I would have had the nerve to do what they are doing at their age. However, I have to say, I think Eddie and I are having an easier time picking up what the teacher is saying and what we are supposed to say. Even with our old brains.
I will talk more about the school and classes later. Yesterday, I described where we are staying. Today I would like to talk about desayuno (breakfast). Casa Familia de Ovalle will serve you either breakfast or breakfast and dinner as part of your cost. We opted to go with just breakfast, but with the option to have occasional dinners here, which we will do tonight.
I don't know how dinner will be, but breakfast has been incredible. Yesterday and again today. There's enough food for 8 people. When we come to the table there are two kinds of breakfast cereal available, a pitcher of fresh, whole milk and a pitcher of orange juice. A large bowl of yogurt with maybe papaya mixed in and I like their yogurt here too, better than that awful stuff they sell in the states. A large bowl of pan (bread), at least 4 different kinds. Strawberry jam that is not too sweet. A small plate of what looks like lunchmeat and American cheese, which we haven't bothered with and another plate of white semi-soft cheese. That's just to keep you until Cristina can fix and serve the bowl of negros refritos (black refried beans) and eggs. Yesterday they were poached (I think) with a green sauce of some kind. Today they were scrambled with tomato. Oh yeah, yesterday there was a plate of tomatos and a plate of papaya. Today there was a plate of sliced pineapples.
It's a good thing we are walking, walking, walking everywhere or I'd end up being 3 times as big as when I left.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Well, here we are!
Hello, everyone -
We are here-Antigua, Guatemala. My nervousness about this whole adventure has diminished somewhat now that we have arrived and settled in. I'm sure it will start up again when we start class Monday morning.
The flights here were uneventful and I even managed to snag a emergency exit row on the long leg from Atlanta to Guatemala City. Loads of room for my legs, which made the trip so much less an endurance trial.
I was impressed almost immediately after getting thru customs with the fact that the luggage carts were free. I guess the airport authority hasn't figured out how to gouge the tourists yet by nickle and dime-ing them for every small thing.
We found our driver with no problem, but managed to somehow pick up a couple of helpers with our carts on the way to our car. Even though I said "No, Gracias", they stepped right in to "help" put the luggage in the car. They were disappointed though, since I didn't ask for assistance, I didn't feel any obligation to tip. I suppose that's a little "Ugly American" of me, but I find that sort of thing annoying. If I had needed and requested their help, I would have been glad to give them a few bucks.
So, after the airport adventure, we got to have the driving to Antigua adventure, which was mostly an adventure getting out of Guatemala City and a bit more exciting arriving into Antigua. The middle part was not too bad. We think drivers in Lexington and our urban areas are bad, but American drivers have nothing on the rest of the world. Cars, buses, trucks, motorcycles, if they want to come into the lane you are occupying, they just start over and hope you let them in or they force their way in. We almost rear-ended several different vehicles and came very close to wiping out a young man on a motorcycle. Fortunately, he changed his mind at the last minute and decided we were too close even for his comfort. I'm always surprised when I don't see any accidents, but there never seems to be any. I guess when everyone drives crazy, it balances out and everybody manages to stay out of everybody else's way.
It took about an hour to get to our casa. The Casa de Familia Ovalle is where we will call home for the next 4 weeks and I'll be a not-so-swinging single for 5 more. It's an interesting house. Somethings I like about it and somethings I'm not crazy about.
You come into a roofed over foyer right off the sidewalk. Beyond that is an open courtyard with a covered hallway along the left. Our room and 1 other are right off of this hallway. Straight ahead from the courtyard with the doorway off the hallway to the right is the sitting room, which has the wireless router in it and where I will probably be doing most of my computer stuff. While the Casa does have this wireless, unfortunately they have placed the router on the floor in the corner, so it doesn't broadcast very far. We're hoping after we get to know our hostess, Maria Elena, a little better, we can suggest and offer to help get the router mounted up in the corner of the room.
Anyway, more about the Casa, right behind the sitting room as you move back into the house is the dining room. It is an ok size, but very dark. Behind that is the kitchen. As you come to the kitchen door, the hallway once again opens up to another open air courtyard with some wood slat chairs and a table. I tried to sit there this am to work on the computer but no signal. Too bad as it's a very pleasant spot. There is another room beyond the kitchen which is a small guest room, but it is very dark with only 1 window which looks out on the courtyard. There are stairs off this courtyard on the left.
The stairs curve around to the right and at the landing there is the laundry room. You continue up and right before the top is the room of our live-in caretaker, Cristina. She takes care of our room and cooks our breakfast. Since she speaks no English, it has been very interesting communicating so far. But I'm sure as our Spanish improves, that will become easier. At the top of the stairs is a rooftop patio, with a covered seating area. It overlooks 1 of the 3 volcanos surrounding Antigua. I've already spent a lot of time up there. It is very comfortable.
The house is very nice and fairly comfortable. Right now, we are the only guests so it feels like our home. My only serious complaint is that our room is kinda dark with the only windown looking out to the hallway. It also has a curtain over it that doesn't provide much privacy when our light is on. I'm going to shop today for an attractive cloth that I can put up to fix that. We need to see whether we can fix one of the bedside lamps so that we can have some light other than overhead spots, which are pretty glaring.
Our only other window is in the bathroom and it looks out into the second courtyard, so we can slide the window partially open a tiny bit for ventilation but too much and anyone coming down the stairs can see into our bath.
Our room doesn't have a dresser but does have a gigantic closet with tons of shelving, so we can make that work. We also have our own small refrigerator that we can keep some things in. However, it takes more that 24 hours for ice to freeze even in tiny ice cube trays. They're just not too big on ice most places outside the US.
That's it for now. I'll tell you later about the huge breakfast we just ate. And the coffee is incredible!
We are here-Antigua, Guatemala. My nervousness about this whole adventure has diminished somewhat now that we have arrived and settled in. I'm sure it will start up again when we start class Monday morning.
The flights here were uneventful and I even managed to snag a emergency exit row on the long leg from Atlanta to Guatemala City. Loads of room for my legs, which made the trip so much less an endurance trial.
I was impressed almost immediately after getting thru customs with the fact that the luggage carts were free. I guess the airport authority hasn't figured out how to gouge the tourists yet by nickle and dime-ing them for every small thing.
We found our driver with no problem, but managed to somehow pick up a couple of helpers with our carts on the way to our car. Even though I said "No, Gracias", they stepped right in to "help" put the luggage in the car. They were disappointed though, since I didn't ask for assistance, I didn't feel any obligation to tip. I suppose that's a little "Ugly American" of me, but I find that sort of thing annoying. If I had needed and requested their help, I would have been glad to give them a few bucks.
So, after the airport adventure, we got to have the driving to Antigua adventure, which was mostly an adventure getting out of Guatemala City and a bit more exciting arriving into Antigua. The middle part was not too bad. We think drivers in Lexington and our urban areas are bad, but American drivers have nothing on the rest of the world. Cars, buses, trucks, motorcycles, if they want to come into the lane you are occupying, they just start over and hope you let them in or they force their way in. We almost rear-ended several different vehicles and came very close to wiping out a young man on a motorcycle. Fortunately, he changed his mind at the last minute and decided we were too close even for his comfort. I'm always surprised when I don't see any accidents, but there never seems to be any. I guess when everyone drives crazy, it balances out and everybody manages to stay out of everybody else's way.
It took about an hour to get to our casa. The Casa de Familia Ovalle is where we will call home for the next 4 weeks and I'll be a not-so-swinging single for 5 more. It's an interesting house. Somethings I like about it and somethings I'm not crazy about.
You come into a roofed over foyer right off the sidewalk. Beyond that is an open courtyard with a covered hallway along the left. Our room and 1 other are right off of this hallway. Straight ahead from the courtyard with the doorway off the hallway to the right is the sitting room, which has the wireless router in it and where I will probably be doing most of my computer stuff. While the Casa does have this wireless, unfortunately they have placed the router on the floor in the corner, so it doesn't broadcast very far. We're hoping after we get to know our hostess, Maria Elena, a little better, we can suggest and offer to help get the router mounted up in the corner of the room.
Anyway, more about the Casa, right behind the sitting room as you move back into the house is the dining room. It is an ok size, but very dark. Behind that is the kitchen. As you come to the kitchen door, the hallway once again opens up to another open air courtyard with some wood slat chairs and a table. I tried to sit there this am to work on the computer but no signal. Too bad as it's a very pleasant spot. There is another room beyond the kitchen which is a small guest room, but it is very dark with only 1 window which looks out on the courtyard. There are stairs off this courtyard on the left.
The stairs curve around to the right and at the landing there is the laundry room. You continue up and right before the top is the room of our live-in caretaker, Cristina. She takes care of our room and cooks our breakfast. Since she speaks no English, it has been very interesting communicating so far. But I'm sure as our Spanish improves, that will become easier. At the top of the stairs is a rooftop patio, with a covered seating area. It overlooks 1 of the 3 volcanos surrounding Antigua. I've already spent a lot of time up there. It is very comfortable.
The house is very nice and fairly comfortable. Right now, we are the only guests so it feels like our home. My only serious complaint is that our room is kinda dark with the only windown looking out to the hallway. It also has a curtain over it that doesn't provide much privacy when our light is on. I'm going to shop today for an attractive cloth that I can put up to fix that. We need to see whether we can fix one of the bedside lamps so that we can have some light other than overhead spots, which are pretty glaring.
Our only other window is in the bathroom and it looks out into the second courtyard, so we can slide the window partially open a tiny bit for ventilation but too much and anyone coming down the stairs can see into our bath.
Our room doesn't have a dresser but does have a gigantic closet with tons of shelving, so we can make that work. We also have our own small refrigerator that we can keep some things in. However, it takes more that 24 hours for ice to freeze even in tiny ice cube trays. They're just not too big on ice most places outside the US.
That's it for now. I'll tell you later about the huge breakfast we just ate. And the coffee is incredible!
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Haiku for the morning
Couldn't sleep this morning. As the rain moved in at dawn, the birds still woke up and did their morning song. This came to me.
Even in the rain
The birds sing, greeting the dawn
Happy for the day.
Even in the rain
The birds sing, greeting the dawn
Happy for the day.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Our new travel trailer
I have some pics out on my Flickr site now of our new travel trailer. We bought it mostly so we could attend music festivals. I don't tent camp and many of the festivals I'd like to attend, it's not convenient to stay at hotels. So, basically, this is a hotel suite we are hauling behind our truck.
Check it out. My Flickr link is to the right----->
Check it out. My Flickr link is to the right----->
Randolph Bessemer - 1st draft
This is the 1st short story I wrote for my ENG207 class this semester. It is strictly fiction but based around some of the facts of my brother's life (and death).
Randolph Bessemer was a rich and powerful man. Perhaps not as powerful as he once was, but definitely richer. His increased wealth was due, not to his own labor, but to those around him, particularly his consort, Will Rand, who now lay dying of brain cancer in a Fort Lauderdale hospital.
Randolph Bessemer, or R.B., as he like to be called, had been the band director at Louisville Boys Collegiate High School since the music department had been formed in the late ‘30’s. He had lead the LBCHS marching band to seven consecutive state championships and ten championships overall. They had marched in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, the Orange Bowl parade and the Rose Bowl parade. Closer to home, they marched in the Derby Parade every year and was the only high school band ever invited to play My Old Kentucky Home at the Derby. They were the most recognized high school marching band in the region.
All this gave R.B. power at LBCHS and in the community, unprecedented for a high school band director. It was also due, no doubt, to his family’s status as one of Louisville’s wealthiest, old-money families. Because of his and his family’s status, R.B. was used to having his way and obtaining what he wanted. He had rarely been turned down for anything in his life.
Rarely, that is, until he had tried to adopt Will Rand away from his family. Not only was he refused in no uncertain terms, he briefly feared Will Rand, Sr. was going to get up from his easy chair and bodily throw him out of his house. Mrs. Rand just looked like she was going to burst into tears. R.B. quickly backed down and attempted to sooth the old man’s ruffled feathers.
“Well now, I’m sorry, Mr. Rand. I didn’t mean no offense. I just think the world of young Will and would like to be able to provide him with as many opportunities as possible. I see now it was presumptuous of me to assume you would allow another man to become your son’s father. Will you instead allow me to take care of some of Will’s expenses? I’d like him to attend my music school, for instance. He has a wonderful, raw talent that I think our instructors could help refine and improve.”
Will, Sr. who also wanted the best for his only son, grudgingly relented. And so began R.B.’s long association with and explotation of the Rand family.
R.B. met young Will when Will walked into band class the fall of Will’s first year at LBCHS. R.B. had always had an eye for the young boys that came through his classroom, but he had never been so completely taken by any of them until he saw Will.
Will wasn’t extraordinarily good-looking by conventional standards, but his dark wavy hair, his deep blue eyes and his smooth pale complexion went together in such a way that it made you notice him. Then when he smiled, his slightly crooked grin made his whole face glow with an inner radiance that made him look angelic yet, at the same time, roguish. And his nature was as sweet as his looks. Will quickly became a leader in the band.
R.B. spent Will’s sophomore year captivated by his young percussionist and found any excuse he could think of to have him near. He offered Will extra lessons in percussion. He found out Will was interested in the new hi-fidelity record players and electronic kits and bought him a hi-fi kit to put together. Of course, he didn’t let Will know he bought it for him.
“Oh, Will,” R.B. said after band practice one day, “You know, I bought one of those hi-fi do-it-yourself kits a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, you did, Mr. Bessemer?” Will replied, “Those are so cool! I’d like to get one someday and see if I could put it together.”
“Well, that’s why I thought of you,” R.B. said innocently. “I got it all out and looked at it and I just don’t think I’ve got the time nor the patience to put it together. I was wondering if you might be interested in having it?”
Will’s face lit up the way R.B. loved and he exclaimed, “Oh, boy! Would I? That would be great. Oh!” and his face fell, “Those are expensive. I don’t think I can afford it, Mr. Bessemer.”
“No, no. Think of it as just my little gift to you for all the hard work you’ve done this year in band. You’ve really improved, Will. I’m very proud of you.”
“Oh, wow! Are you sure? That’s fantastic, Mr. Bessemer. Thank you so much!” With that, Will gave Mr. Bessemer a hug and started out the door. R.B. remembered that hug for days.
“Oh, Will?”
“Yes, Mr. Bessemer?”
“Let’s keep this our little secret, shall we? I wouldn’t want the other boys in the band getting jealous and giving you a hard time.”
“Oh, sure enough, Mr. Bessemer. Thanks again. See you tomorrow.”
By the end of Will’s junior year, he had become Mr. Bessemer’s student assistant during Will’s study hall. Will was flattered to have this worldly, older man’s attention; a man that had the same deep interest in music and performance as Will did. Will was comfortable enough with Mr. Bessemer, he thought nothing of the head caresses R.B. would give him as Will sat in his chair doing his homework or the hugs R.B. would give him when Will would leave to go to his next class. Will’s own parents were not demonstrative toward their children and, altho’ he didn’t realize it, Will craved this attention.
It was during the summer of Will’s junior year that R.B. had the conversation about adopting Will. After that, he realized if he became friendly with the Rands, then he could have all the access to Will he wanted. He started stopping by now and again with beer to share with Will, Sr. Will, Sr. worked swing shifts and Mrs. Rand, whose name was Marge, didn’t drive. So, sometimes he would call when he knew Will, Sr. was at work and see if Marge needed to go anywhere. Occasionally, he would offer to take the whole family out to dinner at Hasenour’s, which was a fine dining establishment in the Highlands at Oak and Barrett. The Hasenour family knew the Bessemers and R.B. could tell the Rands were impressed when Ray Hasenour stopped by their table to see if everything was all right.
After that, Will started spending more and more time with R.B. R.B. hired Will to mow his grass and do other minor chores around the house. He got to know all of R.B. family. R.B. still lived in the family home on Cherokee Parkway with his mother and his polio stricken sister, Adele. Adele wore a very heavy brace on one leg and walked with a pronounced limp. Will liked her a lot and would help her around the house and sit and talk with her for long periods. He found her to be extremely intelligent and he like that she had never treated him as a kid, but more like an equal.
After graduating in 1952, Will decided not to go to college, partly because his family couldn’t afford to send him and even though R.B. offered to pay for it, Will didn’t think he was too interested in all the other courses besides music he’d have to take to get a degree. It wasn’t like he needed the degree in order to get a good job. It was pretty easy to find lots of places that would hire a motivated, hard-working, young man right out of high school. All Will had to decide was what he wanted to pursue. Finally, after weeks of looking at the want ads and not finding anything that appealed to him, Will Sr. suggested he go talk to R.B. and see if he would hire him at his music school.
Will went to see Mr. Bessemer the next afternoon and was hired immediately as a sheet music and instrument salesman. Will still wasn’t sure this was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life, but for now it would do.
After a few years of working at the music school, R.B. got Will a job working with him as an assistant band director at LCBHS. It was around this time that R.B. presented his plan to Will. He wanted to establish a summer camp for high school marching bands. No one was doing anything like this at the time and the kids in marching band forgot a lot over the summer of what they learned. It would give band directors a chance to work on field routines for the next fall and give all the band students a head start on next season’s half-time shows.
R.B. proposed to Will that he would put the money up for the land and building materials and for a half interest Will could manage the project and help build the main structures and clear the land for the practice fields they would need initially.
Will was excited about the idea of a music camp and the idea they would be doing something that had never been tried before. He readily agreed even though he knew little about construction. He knew right where he could get help though. His father knew all about building, electrical and water systems from his time in the SeeBees during WWII. He went home that night and asked Will Sr. if he would be willing to help and give advice as he needed it.
It would take a lot of work. This was September. R.B. had already found 200 acres in the next county he wanted to buy. The deal went through quickly and Will worked constantly and hard through the fall and winter with his father’s help and invaluable knowledge in order to be able to have their first bands start the following summer.
No one in either family ever knew exactly when R.B. began his relationship with Will, a relationship that would last over twenty years. At first, they covered their tracks. They were seen out together at popular night spots but always with stylish women and Will never stayed overnight at the house on Cherokee. Nor did R.B. ever come to Will’s parent’s house unless he came to visit with both Will and his parents.
After the band camp was up and running, however, Will and R.B. moved out to the property. For a while they lived in a mobile home, while they worked on the camp. Dropping all pretense, yet never speaking of it, they shared the mobile home’s only large bedroom. After the main camp buildings were done, the next thing they built was a penthouse over one of the camp’s dorm buildings. If anyone in either family had any doubts about their relationship before this, they would have been erased with the construction of their huge master bedroom with the king size bed and the magnificent view of the surrounding hills and farmland. It was plainly obvious that R.B. and Will had become lovers somewhere along the way. Yet, no one in either family ever spoke of or even alluded to their relationship.
The next twenty years were extremely successful for R.B. and Will and the camp. At it’s height, the camp moved 800 band students through a week- running double meal sessions in order to seat them all. Will continued to work hard every day adding to, fixing and improving the infrastructure of the camp. Will, Sr. could often be found there, too, at his son’s side, helping with the latest project. R.B. continued to stay on Will, Sr.’s good side, buying the old man his first console color TV one year for Christmas.
Other family members from both the Bessemer and Rand sides were pressed into duty to help run the camp. Marge and Miss Mary, R.B.’s older sister, ran the kitchen, initially doing the bulk of the cooking, but eventually managing a staff. Will’s sisters and R.B.’s nieces worked as kitchen help and canteen servers. R.B.’s nephews also worked in the kitchen when needed and as field hands to prep the football fields, lifeguards for the pool and as general laborers. It was sun-up to midnight work and because it was family, R.B. felt he could get away with paying a pittance. The kids were given a small allowance each week, but no one got their entire pay until and unless they made it through the entire summer.
R.B. had other ideas, as well. He strongly encouraged his younger nephew, Ray, when he turned 16, to start dating Will’s sister, Chloe, who was the same age. He imagined marrying them off in order to start a Bessemer dynasty and strongly hinted at this to the young couple after they had gone out on a few dates. But Chloe had no intention of being railroaded into an arranged marriage and, besides, she thought of Ray more like a brother than a lover, since they had practically grown up together working at the camp. Once again, R.B. had his plans thwarted by a member of the Rand family.
The camp did so well, R.B. and Will bought a winter home in Fort Lauderdale, where they retreated each fall after camp closed. They stayed there the entire winter, coming back only for Christmas. One year R.B. sent word back shortly before Christmas; they wouldn’t be coming back to Kentucky that year.
Marge, now a widow, was upset. “Will would never do that. He’s never not spent Christmas with his family. Something’s wrong.”
And indeed there was. Will had had several blackouts over the previous summer. Fortunately, he had never been driving or operating heavy machinery, but consequently, because he hadn’t been hurt and he was always alone when they occurred, he never told anyone. Until they got to Florida and he had a blackout and a seizure in front of R.B. no one had any idea anything had been happening.
R.B. rushed Will to the hospital where they learned he had inoperable brain cancer and only a few months to live. The hospital admitted him in order to try and get the seizures under control and this was where his mother found him when she came to visit after Christmas. She was stunned. Not only by the fact her only son was hospitalized and dying, but by the fact that R.B. had decided not to tell her until he picked her up at the airport and asked where Will was.
Marge spent her entire three weeks at Will’s bedside, going back to the house only to sleep, eat a little and change her clothes. R.B. didn’t spend anywhere near that amount of time there, saying he had business that needed attended to. Fortunately, R.B.’s sister, Adele, was there to keep Marge company and to help Will. Adele had taken to spending the winters in Fl. with R.B. and Will because her bad leg had become more painful in the cold as she had aged.
One afternoon, shortly before Marge was to leave Ft. Lauderdale and return home, she was alone with Will in his room. He called her close, “I’m going to leave my share of the camp to you, Mom. My part belonged to Dad as much as me, anyway, as much work as he did there. I wanted to share it with him before he died, but R.B. said no. I want to make sure you’re not cut out of my share. R.B.’s having the lawyer draw up my will. That’s what I told him I wanted. It’s less than half now that we incorporated in order to let Ray come into the business. I think I own around 39 shares. I. . .I. .don’t. . exactly remember anymore.” He layed back drained from the conversation.
“Shh, now. Don’t you worry about that. I don’t care about any of it, Will. I’d give up everything I had, if it’d make you better. I just want you to get better.”
But Will didn’t hear his mom. He fallen asleep, exhausted from talking and the effects of the pain medication.
Marge never mentioned the conversation to R.B. Perhaps if she had let him know she was aware of what Will had wanted, things might have turned out differently.
R.B. never brought the papers Will was expecting. Instead in the weeks before he died, R.B. showed up with a different paper for Will to sign. Instead of leaving his shares to his mother, and ultimately to his two sisters, R.B. made him sign a paper stating that his claim to the camp consisted of only seven shares. Will weakly tried to protest but R.B. cut him off harshly, “Listen, you’ll do what I say, if you want me to continue to cover your medical bills. Otherwise, I’ll walk away and your family can find the money to cover this. You don’t have any insurance, you know. I’ll take care of you until the end, Will, and I’ll make sure your mom is taken care of, but you’re not giving your family any part of my band camp. It’s not going to happen. Sign the paper or I’m walking out and you’ll never see me again. You can die here alone and without a dime, for all I care. I’ll leave them here and let you think about it for a couple of days. Don’t try to die on me without signing them. I’ll make things very ugly for Marge, if you do.”
Will was stricken. He’d thought R.B. had truly loved him all these years but he realized in that moment that R.B. really only thought about R.B. and what he could get from the people around him. He may have cared for him in some fashion, but he had used him and his family to get what he wanted and now he was willing to walk away from him. Leave him to die alone if Will refused him.
What choice did he have? He had neither the time, strength nor money to fight him. He hoped his mom would question what had happened when this came out. He asked Adele to try and get her on the phone, but when she tried from his hospital room, the operator told her that the long-distance service had been requested turned off. Will signed the papers. He gave them to Adele to take home to R.B. and told her to tell R.B. not to come back to the hospital. Adele, however, still came every day and sat with him. Will was grateful to her and glad he didn’t have to be alone. R.B. stayed away until Will slipped into a coma three days before he died. Then he came back and sat by his bed holding his hand, playing the stricken friend.
R.B. did make good on one promise. He paid for everything. All the medical bills were taken care of. R.B. bought the most expensive casket the funeral home had. He had a one day visitation in Ft. Lauderdale for their Florida friends. He had Will’s body flown back to Louisville, where there was a three day visitation before the funeral. He bought the vault space in Evergreen Cemetery where Will was interred.
When the estate, such as it was, was probated and it came out there was no will and Marge was getting only seven shares in the band camp, Will’s sisters were outraged.
“Mom! You’ve got to do something!” Chloe raged. “R.B. is screwing you over. You and I both know Will had a bigger share of the camp then seven shares. Let’s go talk to a lawyer.”
But Marge just sighed, “No, Chloe. I don’t want to make waves with the Bessemers. They’ve been like family to us. I don’t want to lose R.B. and his sisters as friends and that’s what would happen if I do something like that. I don’t care about any of that. Just let it go. Will’s gone and he’s all I wanted.”
Even though Chloe and her sister raged about the injustice they knew had been committed, their mom refused to budge and there was nothing to be done.
Karma has it’s way of exacting justice, however. Not so many years later, R.B. became the first in his family to succumb to Alzheimer’s disease. Out of a large family of long, lived, vital till the end people, he alone lost his mind.
Randolph Bessemer was a rich and powerful man. Perhaps not as powerful as he once was, but definitely richer. His increased wealth was due, not to his own labor, but to those around him, particularly his consort, Will Rand, who now lay dying of brain cancer in a Fort Lauderdale hospital.
Randolph Bessemer, or R.B., as he like to be called, had been the band director at Louisville Boys Collegiate High School since the music department had been formed in the late ‘30’s. He had lead the LBCHS marching band to seven consecutive state championships and ten championships overall. They had marched in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, the Orange Bowl parade and the Rose Bowl parade. Closer to home, they marched in the Derby Parade every year and was the only high school band ever invited to play My Old Kentucky Home at the Derby. They were the most recognized high school marching band in the region.
All this gave R.B. power at LBCHS and in the community, unprecedented for a high school band director. It was also due, no doubt, to his family’s status as one of Louisville’s wealthiest, old-money families. Because of his and his family’s status, R.B. was used to having his way and obtaining what he wanted. He had rarely been turned down for anything in his life.
Rarely, that is, until he had tried to adopt Will Rand away from his family. Not only was he refused in no uncertain terms, he briefly feared Will Rand, Sr. was going to get up from his easy chair and bodily throw him out of his house. Mrs. Rand just looked like she was going to burst into tears. R.B. quickly backed down and attempted to sooth the old man’s ruffled feathers.
“Well now, I’m sorry, Mr. Rand. I didn’t mean no offense. I just think the world of young Will and would like to be able to provide him with as many opportunities as possible. I see now it was presumptuous of me to assume you would allow another man to become your son’s father. Will you instead allow me to take care of some of Will’s expenses? I’d like him to attend my music school, for instance. He has a wonderful, raw talent that I think our instructors could help refine and improve.”
Will, Sr. who also wanted the best for his only son, grudgingly relented. And so began R.B.’s long association with and explotation of the Rand family.
R.B. met young Will when Will walked into band class the fall of Will’s first year at LBCHS. R.B. had always had an eye for the young boys that came through his classroom, but he had never been so completely taken by any of them until he saw Will.
Will wasn’t extraordinarily good-looking by conventional standards, but his dark wavy hair, his deep blue eyes and his smooth pale complexion went together in such a way that it made you notice him. Then when he smiled, his slightly crooked grin made his whole face glow with an inner radiance that made him look angelic yet, at the same time, roguish. And his nature was as sweet as his looks. Will quickly became a leader in the band.
R.B. spent Will’s sophomore year captivated by his young percussionist and found any excuse he could think of to have him near. He offered Will extra lessons in percussion. He found out Will was interested in the new hi-fidelity record players and electronic kits and bought him a hi-fi kit to put together. Of course, he didn’t let Will know he bought it for him.
“Oh, Will,” R.B. said after band practice one day, “You know, I bought one of those hi-fi do-it-yourself kits a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, you did, Mr. Bessemer?” Will replied, “Those are so cool! I’d like to get one someday and see if I could put it together.”
“Well, that’s why I thought of you,” R.B. said innocently. “I got it all out and looked at it and I just don’t think I’ve got the time nor the patience to put it together. I was wondering if you might be interested in having it?”
Will’s face lit up the way R.B. loved and he exclaimed, “Oh, boy! Would I? That would be great. Oh!” and his face fell, “Those are expensive. I don’t think I can afford it, Mr. Bessemer.”
“No, no. Think of it as just my little gift to you for all the hard work you’ve done this year in band. You’ve really improved, Will. I’m very proud of you.”
“Oh, wow! Are you sure? That’s fantastic, Mr. Bessemer. Thank you so much!” With that, Will gave Mr. Bessemer a hug and started out the door. R.B. remembered that hug for days.
“Oh, Will?”
“Yes, Mr. Bessemer?”
“Let’s keep this our little secret, shall we? I wouldn’t want the other boys in the band getting jealous and giving you a hard time.”
“Oh, sure enough, Mr. Bessemer. Thanks again. See you tomorrow.”
By the end of Will’s junior year, he had become Mr. Bessemer’s student assistant during Will’s study hall. Will was flattered to have this worldly, older man’s attention; a man that had the same deep interest in music and performance as Will did. Will was comfortable enough with Mr. Bessemer, he thought nothing of the head caresses R.B. would give him as Will sat in his chair doing his homework or the hugs R.B. would give him when Will would leave to go to his next class. Will’s own parents were not demonstrative toward their children and, altho’ he didn’t realize it, Will craved this attention.
It was during the summer of Will’s junior year that R.B. had the conversation about adopting Will. After that, he realized if he became friendly with the Rands, then he could have all the access to Will he wanted. He started stopping by now and again with beer to share with Will, Sr. Will, Sr. worked swing shifts and Mrs. Rand, whose name was Marge, didn’t drive. So, sometimes he would call when he knew Will, Sr. was at work and see if Marge needed to go anywhere. Occasionally, he would offer to take the whole family out to dinner at Hasenour’s, which was a fine dining establishment in the Highlands at Oak and Barrett. The Hasenour family knew the Bessemers and R.B. could tell the Rands were impressed when Ray Hasenour stopped by their table to see if everything was all right.
After that, Will started spending more and more time with R.B. R.B. hired Will to mow his grass and do other minor chores around the house. He got to know all of R.B. family. R.B. still lived in the family home on Cherokee Parkway with his mother and his polio stricken sister, Adele. Adele wore a very heavy brace on one leg and walked with a pronounced limp. Will liked her a lot and would help her around the house and sit and talk with her for long periods. He found her to be extremely intelligent and he like that she had never treated him as a kid, but more like an equal.
After graduating in 1952, Will decided not to go to college, partly because his family couldn’t afford to send him and even though R.B. offered to pay for it, Will didn’t think he was too interested in all the other courses besides music he’d have to take to get a degree. It wasn’t like he needed the degree in order to get a good job. It was pretty easy to find lots of places that would hire a motivated, hard-working, young man right out of high school. All Will had to decide was what he wanted to pursue. Finally, after weeks of looking at the want ads and not finding anything that appealed to him, Will Sr. suggested he go talk to R.B. and see if he would hire him at his music school.
Will went to see Mr. Bessemer the next afternoon and was hired immediately as a sheet music and instrument salesman. Will still wasn’t sure this was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life, but for now it would do.
After a few years of working at the music school, R.B. got Will a job working with him as an assistant band director at LCBHS. It was around this time that R.B. presented his plan to Will. He wanted to establish a summer camp for high school marching bands. No one was doing anything like this at the time and the kids in marching band forgot a lot over the summer of what they learned. It would give band directors a chance to work on field routines for the next fall and give all the band students a head start on next season’s half-time shows.
R.B. proposed to Will that he would put the money up for the land and building materials and for a half interest Will could manage the project and help build the main structures and clear the land for the practice fields they would need initially.
Will was excited about the idea of a music camp and the idea they would be doing something that had never been tried before. He readily agreed even though he knew little about construction. He knew right where he could get help though. His father knew all about building, electrical and water systems from his time in the SeeBees during WWII. He went home that night and asked Will Sr. if he would be willing to help and give advice as he needed it.
It would take a lot of work. This was September. R.B. had already found 200 acres in the next county he wanted to buy. The deal went through quickly and Will worked constantly and hard through the fall and winter with his father’s help and invaluable knowledge in order to be able to have their first bands start the following summer.
No one in either family ever knew exactly when R.B. began his relationship with Will, a relationship that would last over twenty years. At first, they covered their tracks. They were seen out together at popular night spots but always with stylish women and Will never stayed overnight at the house on Cherokee. Nor did R.B. ever come to Will’s parent’s house unless he came to visit with both Will and his parents.
After the band camp was up and running, however, Will and R.B. moved out to the property. For a while they lived in a mobile home, while they worked on the camp. Dropping all pretense, yet never speaking of it, they shared the mobile home’s only large bedroom. After the main camp buildings were done, the next thing they built was a penthouse over one of the camp’s dorm buildings. If anyone in either family had any doubts about their relationship before this, they would have been erased with the construction of their huge master bedroom with the king size bed and the magnificent view of the surrounding hills and farmland. It was plainly obvious that R.B. and Will had become lovers somewhere along the way. Yet, no one in either family ever spoke of or even alluded to their relationship.
The next twenty years were extremely successful for R.B. and Will and the camp. At it’s height, the camp moved 800 band students through a week- running double meal sessions in order to seat them all. Will continued to work hard every day adding to, fixing and improving the infrastructure of the camp. Will, Sr. could often be found there, too, at his son’s side, helping with the latest project. R.B. continued to stay on Will, Sr.’s good side, buying the old man his first console color TV one year for Christmas.
Other family members from both the Bessemer and Rand sides were pressed into duty to help run the camp. Marge and Miss Mary, R.B.’s older sister, ran the kitchen, initially doing the bulk of the cooking, but eventually managing a staff. Will’s sisters and R.B.’s nieces worked as kitchen help and canteen servers. R.B.’s nephews also worked in the kitchen when needed and as field hands to prep the football fields, lifeguards for the pool and as general laborers. It was sun-up to midnight work and because it was family, R.B. felt he could get away with paying a pittance. The kids were given a small allowance each week, but no one got their entire pay until and unless they made it through the entire summer.
R.B. had other ideas, as well. He strongly encouraged his younger nephew, Ray, when he turned 16, to start dating Will’s sister, Chloe, who was the same age. He imagined marrying them off in order to start a Bessemer dynasty and strongly hinted at this to the young couple after they had gone out on a few dates. But Chloe had no intention of being railroaded into an arranged marriage and, besides, she thought of Ray more like a brother than a lover, since they had practically grown up together working at the camp. Once again, R.B. had his plans thwarted by a member of the Rand family.
The camp did so well, R.B. and Will bought a winter home in Fort Lauderdale, where they retreated each fall after camp closed. They stayed there the entire winter, coming back only for Christmas. One year R.B. sent word back shortly before Christmas; they wouldn’t be coming back to Kentucky that year.
Marge, now a widow, was upset. “Will would never do that. He’s never not spent Christmas with his family. Something’s wrong.”
And indeed there was. Will had had several blackouts over the previous summer. Fortunately, he had never been driving or operating heavy machinery, but consequently, because he hadn’t been hurt and he was always alone when they occurred, he never told anyone. Until they got to Florida and he had a blackout and a seizure in front of R.B. no one had any idea anything had been happening.
R.B. rushed Will to the hospital where they learned he had inoperable brain cancer and only a few months to live. The hospital admitted him in order to try and get the seizures under control and this was where his mother found him when she came to visit after Christmas. She was stunned. Not only by the fact her only son was hospitalized and dying, but by the fact that R.B. had decided not to tell her until he picked her up at the airport and asked where Will was.
Marge spent her entire three weeks at Will’s bedside, going back to the house only to sleep, eat a little and change her clothes. R.B. didn’t spend anywhere near that amount of time there, saying he had business that needed attended to. Fortunately, R.B.’s sister, Adele, was there to keep Marge company and to help Will. Adele had taken to spending the winters in Fl. with R.B. and Will because her bad leg had become more painful in the cold as she had aged.
One afternoon, shortly before Marge was to leave Ft. Lauderdale and return home, she was alone with Will in his room. He called her close, “I’m going to leave my share of the camp to you, Mom. My part belonged to Dad as much as me, anyway, as much work as he did there. I wanted to share it with him before he died, but R.B. said no. I want to make sure you’re not cut out of my share. R.B.’s having the lawyer draw up my will. That’s what I told him I wanted. It’s less than half now that we incorporated in order to let Ray come into the business. I think I own around 39 shares. I. . .I. .don’t. . exactly remember anymore.” He layed back drained from the conversation.
“Shh, now. Don’t you worry about that. I don’t care about any of it, Will. I’d give up everything I had, if it’d make you better. I just want you to get better.”
But Will didn’t hear his mom. He fallen asleep, exhausted from talking and the effects of the pain medication.
Marge never mentioned the conversation to R.B. Perhaps if she had let him know she was aware of what Will had wanted, things might have turned out differently.
R.B. never brought the papers Will was expecting. Instead in the weeks before he died, R.B. showed up with a different paper for Will to sign. Instead of leaving his shares to his mother, and ultimately to his two sisters, R.B. made him sign a paper stating that his claim to the camp consisted of only seven shares. Will weakly tried to protest but R.B. cut him off harshly, “Listen, you’ll do what I say, if you want me to continue to cover your medical bills. Otherwise, I’ll walk away and your family can find the money to cover this. You don’t have any insurance, you know. I’ll take care of you until the end, Will, and I’ll make sure your mom is taken care of, but you’re not giving your family any part of my band camp. It’s not going to happen. Sign the paper or I’m walking out and you’ll never see me again. You can die here alone and without a dime, for all I care. I’ll leave them here and let you think about it for a couple of days. Don’t try to die on me without signing them. I’ll make things very ugly for Marge, if you do.”
Will was stricken. He’d thought R.B. had truly loved him all these years but he realized in that moment that R.B. really only thought about R.B. and what he could get from the people around him. He may have cared for him in some fashion, but he had used him and his family to get what he wanted and now he was willing to walk away from him. Leave him to die alone if Will refused him.
What choice did he have? He had neither the time, strength nor money to fight him. He hoped his mom would question what had happened when this came out. He asked Adele to try and get her on the phone, but when she tried from his hospital room, the operator told her that the long-distance service had been requested turned off. Will signed the papers. He gave them to Adele to take home to R.B. and told her to tell R.B. not to come back to the hospital. Adele, however, still came every day and sat with him. Will was grateful to her and glad he didn’t have to be alone. R.B. stayed away until Will slipped into a coma three days before he died. Then he came back and sat by his bed holding his hand, playing the stricken friend.
R.B. did make good on one promise. He paid for everything. All the medical bills were taken care of. R.B. bought the most expensive casket the funeral home had. He had a one day visitation in Ft. Lauderdale for their Florida friends. He had Will’s body flown back to Louisville, where there was a three day visitation before the funeral. He bought the vault space in Evergreen Cemetery where Will was interred.
When the estate, such as it was, was probated and it came out there was no will and Marge was getting only seven shares in the band camp, Will’s sisters were outraged.
“Mom! You’ve got to do something!” Chloe raged. “R.B. is screwing you over. You and I both know Will had a bigger share of the camp then seven shares. Let’s go talk to a lawyer.”
But Marge just sighed, “No, Chloe. I don’t want to make waves with the Bessemers. They’ve been like family to us. I don’t want to lose R.B. and his sisters as friends and that’s what would happen if I do something like that. I don’t care about any of that. Just let it go. Will’s gone and he’s all I wanted.”
Even though Chloe and her sister raged about the injustice they knew had been committed, their mom refused to budge and there was nothing to be done.
Karma has it’s way of exacting justice, however. Not so many years later, R.B. became the first in his family to succumb to Alzheimer’s disease. Out of a large family of long, lived, vital till the end people, he alone lost his mind.
Randolph Bessemer - rev
This is the revision.
Randolph Bessemer ran his hand through his still dark hair and thought about what he was going to do and the fact that soon he would be alone. He sat in the dark out on the pool deck of the Florida house drinking his Manhattan. His companion and partner for over 30 years lay in the hospital only a few mile away dying from the horrible tumors that were taking up more and more space in his brain each day. He hated that he would be losing Will, and he hated himself for what he was about to do.
He got up and paced the edge of the pool, rubbing the ache in his belly that always seemed to be there these days. R.B., as he liked to be called, thought back over their years together. Will had always been sensitive and little shy. R.B. was taken with him from the time he had come into band class his first day at Louisville Boys Collegiate High School.
Will wasn’t extraordinarily good-looking by conventional standards, but his dark wavy hair, his deep blue eyes and his smooth pale complexion went together in such a way that it made you notice him. Then when he smiled, his slightly crooked grin made his whole face glow with an inner radiance that made him look angelic yet, at the same time, roguish. And his nature was as sweet as his looks. Despite his natural shyness, Will was popular with the other boys in the band and, because of his natural ability and talent, quickly became the lead percussionist in the band.
R.B. had struggled with his feelings for other boys at Will’s age and, after seeing Will day after day in band, saw that he was struggling with the same feelings.
There had been boys come through his band room from time to time in whom R.B. saw himself. While he was careful never to take advantage of his young pupils, he would take them under his wing in order to let them know in subtle conversations that what they were feeling was not as abnormal as many of them thought. Fortunately, it was easier to mentor young men in the forties and fifties and even into the early sixties than it became later. The new openness of society was what eventually precipitated R.B.’s retirement from LBCHS when the parents of some of his students became suspicious of his motives in taking an interest in their sons. So much for openness, thought R.B. wryly.
He and Will became quite close while Will was in the band. R.B. offered him extra instruction in percussion and conducting, eventually picking Will to be the drum major his senior year. In part, this was to keep Will close by because he was so attracted to him. But R.B. also tried to get Will to open up about his feelings for boys instead of girls but, until Will’s senior year, never got anywhere. R.B. still remembered the break-through conversation with Will.
“So, Will?” R.B. asked one day as they were finishing their private lesson. “Who are you asking to the Senior Dance?”
“Oh, ahhh, well, actually no one, Mr. Bessemer,” Will stammered, blushing slightly.
“I see. I figured a nice looking boy like you would have girls clamoring to go out with him.”
“Yeah, well, I got plenty of my two sister’s friends that are always hanging around giving me the googly eyes all the time and telling my sisters how much they would love to go out on a date with me!”
“But you don’t care for any of them?”
“It’s not that. They’re nice enough girls, I guess,” and Will took a deep breath, “If you like that sort of thing.” As he finished, he looked sideways at R.B. to see what reaction the older man would have to this circumspect revelation.
“I know what you mean. I don’t think we’re all meant to like the same kinds of people or things. Sometimes, you’re just attracted to someone just because you are. I don’t think it’s anybody’s business who that person might be, it’s just between the two of you. You have to be who you are and not worry about what the world thinks about that. Do you know what I mean?”
“So, you don’t think I’m kooky not liking girls? I’ve feel like I’m the only one that feels this way and I didn’t know who I could talk to about it. It’s time for my next class now, but can I talk to you about this sometime?”
“We can talk anytime, Will. I want you to be able to come to me about anything, but especially about this. I really do know what you’re going through.”
And that was the true beginning of our relationship, R.B. thought to himself. He sagged back into the chair, his fleshy body causing the lounger to groan underneath him. He took another deep swallow of the Manhattan and leaned back, closing his eyes.
He remembered Will as the young man standing across from him at his music school asking him for a job. Even if R.B. hadn’t actually needed an instrument and sheet music salesman, he would have still hired Will to work for him. He had actually grieved a bit at graduation the month before, thinking he wasn’t going to have any excuse to see or spend time with Will any longer and now here he was, standing before him, looking a bit apprehensive around the eyes as he tried to project a confidence R.B. was pretty sure he wasn’t feeling.
Now that he was eighteen and no longer his student, R.B. had no qualms about getting to know Will better.
“You’ve got the job, Will. You can learn the basics of instrument sales. I already know you’ll work hard and do your best. Let me take you out to dinner tonight and I’ll go over the job and give you some tips on how approach it. If that’s ok with you, let’s meet at my house at 8.”
“Sure, Mr. Bessemer. Thanks so much for giving me a chance. I’ll see you at eight.”
“OK, and Will? Now that I’m no longer your band teacher, I’d like it if you’d call me R.B., ok??
“Sure enough,” Will hesitated. “I’ll see you at 8. . .R.B.”
Later that evening, R.B. dressed carefully for his first date with Will. His dark blue suit was fresh from the cleaners and the red and blue striped tie stood in sharp contrast against his starched, white, cotton dress shirt. As he slipped the gold, monogrammed cuff links through the french cuffs, he was surprised to realize he actually felt nervous. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t found other men to go out with before this, but he knew this was special and he knew this evening might make or break his budding friendship with a young man that, up till now, had seen him more as a teacher than a friend.
He needn’t had worried. Will was shy, at first, to be in the company of someone he felt was so much more worldly and sophisticated than he, but as the evening wore on, he relaxed and became more willing to express his thoughts and opinions to R.B. about a variety of subjects. Since R.B. had only known Will in the context of the band and music class, he was impressed with how intelligent and well-read he was.
The evening ended back at R.B.’s house on Cherokee Drive. R.B. could see that Will was awed by the house which had been in the Bessemer family for three generations. It was one of the huge, old Neo-Classicals with 12 foot ceilings on the first floor, 9 foot ceilings on the second and a third floor with only 6 1/2 foot ceilings. R.B. walked Will through it, telling him about this and that piece of family history scattered about the rooms. If he was boring the young man to death, Will was too polite to show it and listened with interest to everything R.B. said.
As Will started to leave, he thanked R.B. for dinner and again for the job, then paused, “Soooo, was this a date?”
R.B. chuckled, “Do you want it to be a date?”
“I don’t know. I guess. I’ve never actually been on a date, you know.”
“Well, I can see that, seeing as how most of your classmates would have probably beat you up if you’d asked them out. Yeah, I’d say it was a date. And you know what happens at the end of a date, don’t you?”
“Uh, not exactly.”
“Generally if two people have had a good time and enjoyed each other’s company, they’ll share a kiss at the end of the night, like this” and R.B. leaned over and kissed Will softly on the lips. Then he pulled him to him in a hug and kissed him more firmly, one hand behind his head, his tongue just breaking through to brush Will’s teeth. “How was that?”, he said quietly.
“I, I, I feel kinda funny. A little afraid, I think.”
“It’s ok to feel funny and even a little afraid, Will. But don’t be afraid of me. I’d like us to spend more time with each other and get to know each other better. Become comfortable with each other and I want you to become comfortable with who you are. I don’t think you are yet, but we can talk about it all you want until you get comfortable. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. I promise.”
“If I don’t want to, do I still have the job?”, Will asked, looking a little concerned.
“Yes. I won’t hold the job over you to get you to go out with me. Not yet, anyway.”
Will looked even more concerned.
“No, no. Don’t look like that. I’m just teasing you. You go home and think about it, Will. I’ll see you on Monday and we’ll get you rolling.” With that, R.B. let Will out the door and kept his fingers crossed that young Will would decide to take him up on his offer, despite their 20 year age difference.
I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. I promise. R.B. sighed and got up to fix himself another Manhattan. And yet, that’s just what I’m about to do. R.B. thought. You’re such a fucking bastard! Yeah, well, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to protect his legacy. If things weren’t so goddamn backward and it was me in that hospital bed, Will would be thinking the same thing.
In fact, Will had wanted to protect some of his legacy and R.B. had refused him. R.B., walking heavily, took the fresh drink back out to the lanai and sat back down in the lounger.
Will eventually consented to being R.B.’s young man and also became one of the music school’s top salesmen. After a few years had passed, R.B. shared with Will his plan for the next phase of his life. He was going to sell or close the music school because he wanted to establish a summer camp for high school marching bands. No one was doing anything like this and the kids in marching band forgot a lot over the summer of what they learned. It would give band directors a chance to work on field routines for the next fall and give all the band students a head start on next season’s half-time shows. He wanted Will to become partners with him in the enterprise.
“That’s all well and good, R.B.”, Will said at dinner the night R.B. shared the plan with him. “I think it’s a great idea and I would love to be involved, but I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I thought of that and what I’m willing to propose is that we’ll go in as 50-50 partners with me providing the capital and you providing the contracting and labor. If you help me build it, Will, half will be yours.”
“Let me talk to my dad and see if he’s willing to help. He’s ex-Seebees and I know he has a lot of experience in the various building trades. I’ll need his help, if I do this.”
Will talked with his dad, Will, Sr. who surprised his son by being very willing to help his only son learn how to be a builder and general contractor. With a team of workers, Will and Will, Sr, with R.B.’s money had the camp up and running by the next summer after the land was purchased the previous fall. It wasn’t a big first summer and they had some bugs to work out of the operation but R.B. and Will considered it a success.
Once the camp became a reality, R.B. and Will moved in together, first sharing a mobile home at the camp. After a few years, they were ready to expand again. This time they built a penthouse over one of the camp’s new dorm buildings. If anyone in either family had ever had any doubts about their relationship before this, they would have been erased with the construction of their huge master bedroom with the king size bed and the magnificent view of the surrounding hills and farmland. It was plainly obvious now to anyone that knew them that R.B. and Will were lovers, yet, no one in either family ever spoke of or even alluded to their relationship. R.B. had always wondered why no one ever said anything. Will was relieved by that fact.
Their lives became defined by the work of the camp. R.B. managed the business side of things, while Will learned to handle many of the construction and physical plant needs of the camp. His father was a tremendous help. After a particularly grueling summer and fall of Will, Sr. helping to put in their own water treatment plant, the younger Will came to R.B. with a request.
“R.B., you know my dad has really helped us out a lot around here. I don’t know if we’d be where we are right now if it hadn’t been for him.”
“Uh-huh”, R.B. agreed, only half listening while he scanned the newspaper.
“Well, I want to cut him in on the deal. I’m thinking I want to give him twenty percent out of my share. Are you ok with that?”
R.B. laid the newspaper down. “I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s a very good idea. I want to keep it simple. I think should remain ours. It gets too complicated when you start bringing other people to the table. If you want to give him some cash for his work, I’ve no problem with that, but I think we need to keep the ownership just between us. We’ll get him a nice Christmas present this year. I’ve been thinking he’d like one of those new color TV’s. What do you think?”
Will stared at R.B. with a look R.B. had never seen. Hostility and incredulity washed across his face, “I don’t believe you! My dad works his butt off around here and you don’t think it’s a good idea to let him have some of my share! I’m not asking you to give him any part of yours! Why can’t I give him part of my share if I want to?!”
“Well, first off, Will, we never put anything into writing, you and I, so your shares of the camp are only what you and I agree they are. Now I know I said 50-50 when we started this and right now I’m still agreeable to that, but that’s only as long as you stay here. If you were to leave, you’d have nothing, unless you sued and you and your family don’t have the money for that. The other point is that this is OUR business and I don’t want other people thinking they have any say in it. I’m fond of your old man, but he and I don’t agree on certain things and he has no idea the decisions that need to be made to keep things running here and make a profit. And neither do you!”
And that was the beginning of Will’s cooling feelings toward me, sighed R.B. I don’t think he suspected until that moment how I’d taken advantage of him. I know I was a cad to not suggest we draw up a contract and he was too young and trusting to think of it until probably right at that minute. But didn’t you make sure he always had money in his account and a new car every other year. You always bought whatever he said he needed to run the place. You treated him good, didn’t you? You loved him.
Will never mentioned cutting his dad in again. Several years later, when R.B. wanted to bring young Ray, his nephew, into the business, he didn’t say anything to Will until he presented him with the letters of incorporation to sign. When Will noticed the shares were split 51% to R.B., 30% to Will and the remaining 19% to Ray, Will just stared at R.B. with a look more hurt than angry. R.B. hadn’t even been brave enough to stand up to it. He busied himself with some trivial paperwork on his desk, until Will put down the pen, threw the papers on his desk and walked out.
Now R.B. was about to hurt Will again. Only this time he wasn’t even going to let him know what he was doing. R.B. slammed his drink down on the side table, almost breaking the glass. One ice cube jumped out and skittered off the edge onto the concrete of the deck. He hated himself, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t allow this to happen any other way. The camp was his idea and, while he had been perfectly willing to let Will share in the profit from that idea in exchange for his labor and loyalty, he certainly wasn’t going to lose 30% of it to Will’s family. In fact, the papers R.B. had for Will to sign transferred all but seven shares to Ray, at Will’s request, superceding his previous will. If only Will hadn’t insisted on having his will drawn up, this would be so much easier.
“R.B., we need to talk,” Will had said to him one late, summer afternoon while they were both working in the camp’s office. “Now that Dad’s gone, I’m going to draw up my own will. You might as well know, right now, that I’m not going to leave you my share of the camp. It seems to me, anyway, the longer I’m around, somehow the less I own of this place. If I go before you, I want to know that Mom or, if she’s gone, my sisters will get my share of the camp. I want it in writing that that’s the way it should go. You already have so much, I want to make sure that they have something from the work I’ve spent my life doing.”
“Sure, Will, if that’s what you want to do, go right ahead. I’m not going to stop you. I’ll just offer to buy them out and I’m sure I can make them a generous offer. As to you owning less the longer you’re here, frankly, you should be thankful I didn’t just kick you out with nothing and give your share to Ray. I love you, boy, and that’s why I didn’t. But until we incorporated, you do realize that your share only existed through my good graces and appreciation for the work you’ve done here. I just want to make that perfectly clear to you.”
But the truth is, Will, I can’t afford to buy them out right now. The camp’s not done as well the last year or two, with the cost of everything going up. With the cost of your illness on top of everything else, it’s probably going to cost me a great deal of money to keep things operating. I’m actually going to help your family out by not letting them get involved. It may bankrupt me, Will, and if they own much of it, it may bankrupt them as well. I’m just thinking of you.
With that final thought, R.B. downed the last of many Manhattan’s and fell into bed, sleeping the deep, dreamless sleep of the drunk and guiltless.
The next morning he went to the hospital, papers in hand, hungover, with the guilt returning in force.
“How are you doing today, sweet boy?” R.B. ran his hand down Will’s arm, giving his hand a squeeze when he got to it.
“I feel pretty weak. I don’t think I’ll be around much longer. I’m so tired!”
“I wish I could do more for you.”
“You’ve done so much for me, R.B. I want you to know that despite our troubles in the past, I’m grateful to you for all you’ve ever done for me. And the life I’ve had with you. There are things I wisht had turned out different and yes, I guess, I mean, I have some regrets, but there's nothing to be done about it now. I realize I made my bed and. . .Anyway, even when I didn't like you very much, I guess I kept on loving you I. . .I wanted you to know that. . .before. . .” Will’s voice trailed off.
“Now, now. We’ve had a good run, I’d say. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I do need you to do one thing for me, if you can manage it. I have this paper here that you need to sign. It’s to allow me to make your medical decisions for you when. . . in case you go. . . aren’t able to. It also makes me responsible for all the medical bills that the insurance doesn’t cover. Here just sign down at the bottom.” And R.B. laid the paper down for Will to sign, making sure the top part stayed covered so he couldn’t read it. Although, it’s doubtful he would have. He could barely manage his signature at the bottom as it was.
Later that day, R.B. called their lawyer back in Kentucky, “Bob? R.B. here. Yeah, well, thanks. He’s not doing too well. The doctors say it’s only a matter of days now. Thanks. Listen, that’s why I called. Will’s drawn up a new will and he wanted me to make sure to call and tell you to destroy your copy of the other one. Yeah, I can send you a copy, if you need it. Ok, I’d appreciate it. I’ll get it out tomorrow. Thanks. Talk to you soon. What’s that? Oh, yeah, sure, I’ll let you know about any arrangements when it happens. Bye, now.” With that, R.B. hung up the phone.
He walked over to the bar at the side of the living room and fixed himself another Manhattan and took a long sip of it. He sat it down and picked up a set of papers bound in blue legal paper and his lighter. Then he walked to the fireplace, opened the draft, laid the papers on the grate and held the lighter to them. They caught, burned quickly and left a small pile of ash in the bottom that the housekeeper would later complain about having to clean up. It was done. R.B. took another long drink.
Less than ten years later, karma exacted it’s revenge on R.B.’s betrayal. The doctors called it senior dementia, not Alzheimer’s. Out of three generations of a large family of long-lived, vital ‘till the end people, he alone lost his mind.
Randolph Bessemer ran his hand through his still dark hair and thought about what he was going to do and the fact that soon he would be alone. He sat in the dark out on the pool deck of the Florida house drinking his Manhattan. His companion and partner for over 30 years lay in the hospital only a few mile away dying from the horrible tumors that were taking up more and more space in his brain each day. He hated that he would be losing Will, and he hated himself for what he was about to do.
He got up and paced the edge of the pool, rubbing the ache in his belly that always seemed to be there these days. R.B., as he liked to be called, thought back over their years together. Will had always been sensitive and little shy. R.B. was taken with him from the time he had come into band class his first day at Louisville Boys Collegiate High School.
Will wasn’t extraordinarily good-looking by conventional standards, but his dark wavy hair, his deep blue eyes and his smooth pale complexion went together in such a way that it made you notice him. Then when he smiled, his slightly crooked grin made his whole face glow with an inner radiance that made him look angelic yet, at the same time, roguish. And his nature was as sweet as his looks. Despite his natural shyness, Will was popular with the other boys in the band and, because of his natural ability and talent, quickly became the lead percussionist in the band.
R.B. had struggled with his feelings for other boys at Will’s age and, after seeing Will day after day in band, saw that he was struggling with the same feelings.
There had been boys come through his band room from time to time in whom R.B. saw himself. While he was careful never to take advantage of his young pupils, he would take them under his wing in order to let them know in subtle conversations that what they were feeling was not as abnormal as many of them thought. Fortunately, it was easier to mentor young men in the forties and fifties and even into the early sixties than it became later. The new openness of society was what eventually precipitated R.B.’s retirement from LBCHS when the parents of some of his students became suspicious of his motives in taking an interest in their sons. So much for openness, thought R.B. wryly.
He and Will became quite close while Will was in the band. R.B. offered him extra instruction in percussion and conducting, eventually picking Will to be the drum major his senior year. In part, this was to keep Will close by because he was so attracted to him. But R.B. also tried to get Will to open up about his feelings for boys instead of girls but, until Will’s senior year, never got anywhere. R.B. still remembered the break-through conversation with Will.
“So, Will?” R.B. asked one day as they were finishing their private lesson. “Who are you asking to the Senior Dance?”
“Oh, ahhh, well, actually no one, Mr. Bessemer,” Will stammered, blushing slightly.
“I see. I figured a nice looking boy like you would have girls clamoring to go out with him.”
“Yeah, well, I got plenty of my two sister’s friends that are always hanging around giving me the googly eyes all the time and telling my sisters how much they would love to go out on a date with me!”
“But you don’t care for any of them?”
“It’s not that. They’re nice enough girls, I guess,” and Will took a deep breath, “If you like that sort of thing.” As he finished, he looked sideways at R.B. to see what reaction the older man would have to this circumspect revelation.
“I know what you mean. I don’t think we’re all meant to like the same kinds of people or things. Sometimes, you’re just attracted to someone just because you are. I don’t think it’s anybody’s business who that person might be, it’s just between the two of you. You have to be who you are and not worry about what the world thinks about that. Do you know what I mean?”
“So, you don’t think I’m kooky not liking girls? I’ve feel like I’m the only one that feels this way and I didn’t know who I could talk to about it. It’s time for my next class now, but can I talk to you about this sometime?”
“We can talk anytime, Will. I want you to be able to come to me about anything, but especially about this. I really do know what you’re going through.”
And that was the true beginning of our relationship, R.B. thought to himself. He sagged back into the chair, his fleshy body causing the lounger to groan underneath him. He took another deep swallow of the Manhattan and leaned back, closing his eyes.
He remembered Will as the young man standing across from him at his music school asking him for a job. Even if R.B. hadn’t actually needed an instrument and sheet music salesman, he would have still hired Will to work for him. He had actually grieved a bit at graduation the month before, thinking he wasn’t going to have any excuse to see or spend time with Will any longer and now here he was, standing before him, looking a bit apprehensive around the eyes as he tried to project a confidence R.B. was pretty sure he wasn’t feeling.
Now that he was eighteen and no longer his student, R.B. had no qualms about getting to know Will better.
“You’ve got the job, Will. You can learn the basics of instrument sales. I already know you’ll work hard and do your best. Let me take you out to dinner tonight and I’ll go over the job and give you some tips on how approach it. If that’s ok with you, let’s meet at my house at 8.”
“Sure, Mr. Bessemer. Thanks so much for giving me a chance. I’ll see you at eight.”
“OK, and Will? Now that I’m no longer your band teacher, I’d like it if you’d call me R.B., ok??
“Sure enough,” Will hesitated. “I’ll see you at 8. . .R.B.”
Later that evening, R.B. dressed carefully for his first date with Will. His dark blue suit was fresh from the cleaners and the red and blue striped tie stood in sharp contrast against his starched, white, cotton dress shirt. As he slipped the gold, monogrammed cuff links through the french cuffs, he was surprised to realize he actually felt nervous. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t found other men to go out with before this, but he knew this was special and he knew this evening might make or break his budding friendship with a young man that, up till now, had seen him more as a teacher than a friend.
He needn’t had worried. Will was shy, at first, to be in the company of someone he felt was so much more worldly and sophisticated than he, but as the evening wore on, he relaxed and became more willing to express his thoughts and opinions to R.B. about a variety of subjects. Since R.B. had only known Will in the context of the band and music class, he was impressed with how intelligent and well-read he was.
The evening ended back at R.B.’s house on Cherokee Drive. R.B. could see that Will was awed by the house which had been in the Bessemer family for three generations. It was one of the huge, old Neo-Classicals with 12 foot ceilings on the first floor, 9 foot ceilings on the second and a third floor with only 6 1/2 foot ceilings. R.B. walked Will through it, telling him about this and that piece of family history scattered about the rooms. If he was boring the young man to death, Will was too polite to show it and listened with interest to everything R.B. said.
As Will started to leave, he thanked R.B. for dinner and again for the job, then paused, “Soooo, was this a date?”
R.B. chuckled, “Do you want it to be a date?”
“I don’t know. I guess. I’ve never actually been on a date, you know.”
“Well, I can see that, seeing as how most of your classmates would have probably beat you up if you’d asked them out. Yeah, I’d say it was a date. And you know what happens at the end of a date, don’t you?”
“Uh, not exactly.”
“Generally if two people have had a good time and enjoyed each other’s company, they’ll share a kiss at the end of the night, like this” and R.B. leaned over and kissed Will softly on the lips. Then he pulled him to him in a hug and kissed him more firmly, one hand behind his head, his tongue just breaking through to brush Will’s teeth. “How was that?”, he said quietly.
“I, I, I feel kinda funny. A little afraid, I think.”
“It’s ok to feel funny and even a little afraid, Will. But don’t be afraid of me. I’d like us to spend more time with each other and get to know each other better. Become comfortable with each other and I want you to become comfortable with who you are. I don’t think you are yet, but we can talk about it all you want until you get comfortable. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. I promise.”
“If I don’t want to, do I still have the job?”, Will asked, looking a little concerned.
“Yes. I won’t hold the job over you to get you to go out with me. Not yet, anyway.”
Will looked even more concerned.
“No, no. Don’t look like that. I’m just teasing you. You go home and think about it, Will. I’ll see you on Monday and we’ll get you rolling.” With that, R.B. let Will out the door and kept his fingers crossed that young Will would decide to take him up on his offer, despite their 20 year age difference.
I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. I promise. R.B. sighed and got up to fix himself another Manhattan. And yet, that’s just what I’m about to do. R.B. thought. You’re such a fucking bastard! Yeah, well, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to protect his legacy. If things weren’t so goddamn backward and it was me in that hospital bed, Will would be thinking the same thing.
In fact, Will had wanted to protect some of his legacy and R.B. had refused him. R.B., walking heavily, took the fresh drink back out to the lanai and sat back down in the lounger.
Will eventually consented to being R.B.’s young man and also became one of the music school’s top salesmen. After a few years had passed, R.B. shared with Will his plan for the next phase of his life. He was going to sell or close the music school because he wanted to establish a summer camp for high school marching bands. No one was doing anything like this and the kids in marching band forgot a lot over the summer of what they learned. It would give band directors a chance to work on field routines for the next fall and give all the band students a head start on next season’s half-time shows. He wanted Will to become partners with him in the enterprise.
“That’s all well and good, R.B.”, Will said at dinner the night R.B. shared the plan with him. “I think it’s a great idea and I would love to be involved, but I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I thought of that and what I’m willing to propose is that we’ll go in as 50-50 partners with me providing the capital and you providing the contracting and labor. If you help me build it, Will, half will be yours.”
“Let me talk to my dad and see if he’s willing to help. He’s ex-Seebees and I know he has a lot of experience in the various building trades. I’ll need his help, if I do this.”
Will talked with his dad, Will, Sr. who surprised his son by being very willing to help his only son learn how to be a builder and general contractor. With a team of workers, Will and Will, Sr, with R.B.’s money had the camp up and running by the next summer after the land was purchased the previous fall. It wasn’t a big first summer and they had some bugs to work out of the operation but R.B. and Will considered it a success.
Once the camp became a reality, R.B. and Will moved in together, first sharing a mobile home at the camp. After a few years, they were ready to expand again. This time they built a penthouse over one of the camp’s new dorm buildings. If anyone in either family had ever had any doubts about their relationship before this, they would have been erased with the construction of their huge master bedroom with the king size bed and the magnificent view of the surrounding hills and farmland. It was plainly obvious now to anyone that knew them that R.B. and Will were lovers, yet, no one in either family ever spoke of or even alluded to their relationship. R.B. had always wondered why no one ever said anything. Will was relieved by that fact.
Their lives became defined by the work of the camp. R.B. managed the business side of things, while Will learned to handle many of the construction and physical plant needs of the camp. His father was a tremendous help. After a particularly grueling summer and fall of Will, Sr. helping to put in their own water treatment plant, the younger Will came to R.B. with a request.
“R.B., you know my dad has really helped us out a lot around here. I don’t know if we’d be where we are right now if it hadn’t been for him.”
“Uh-huh”, R.B. agreed, only half listening while he scanned the newspaper.
“Well, I want to cut him in on the deal. I’m thinking I want to give him twenty percent out of my share. Are you ok with that?”
R.B. laid the newspaper down. “I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s a very good idea. I want to keep it simple. I think should remain ours. It gets too complicated when you start bringing other people to the table. If you want to give him some cash for his work, I’ve no problem with that, but I think we need to keep the ownership just between us. We’ll get him a nice Christmas present this year. I’ve been thinking he’d like one of those new color TV’s. What do you think?”
Will stared at R.B. with a look R.B. had never seen. Hostility and incredulity washed across his face, “I don’t believe you! My dad works his butt off around here and you don’t think it’s a good idea to let him have some of my share! I’m not asking you to give him any part of yours! Why can’t I give him part of my share if I want to?!”
“Well, first off, Will, we never put anything into writing, you and I, so your shares of the camp are only what you and I agree they are. Now I know I said 50-50 when we started this and right now I’m still agreeable to that, but that’s only as long as you stay here. If you were to leave, you’d have nothing, unless you sued and you and your family don’t have the money for that. The other point is that this is OUR business and I don’t want other people thinking they have any say in it. I’m fond of your old man, but he and I don’t agree on certain things and he has no idea the decisions that need to be made to keep things running here and make a profit. And neither do you!”
And that was the beginning of Will’s cooling feelings toward me, sighed R.B. I don’t think he suspected until that moment how I’d taken advantage of him. I know I was a cad to not suggest we draw up a contract and he was too young and trusting to think of it until probably right at that minute. But didn’t you make sure he always had money in his account and a new car every other year. You always bought whatever he said he needed to run the place. You treated him good, didn’t you? You loved him.
Will never mentioned cutting his dad in again. Several years later, when R.B. wanted to bring young Ray, his nephew, into the business, he didn’t say anything to Will until he presented him with the letters of incorporation to sign. When Will noticed the shares were split 51% to R.B., 30% to Will and the remaining 19% to Ray, Will just stared at R.B. with a look more hurt than angry. R.B. hadn’t even been brave enough to stand up to it. He busied himself with some trivial paperwork on his desk, until Will put down the pen, threw the papers on his desk and walked out.
Now R.B. was about to hurt Will again. Only this time he wasn’t even going to let him know what he was doing. R.B. slammed his drink down on the side table, almost breaking the glass. One ice cube jumped out and skittered off the edge onto the concrete of the deck. He hated himself, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t allow this to happen any other way. The camp was his idea and, while he had been perfectly willing to let Will share in the profit from that idea in exchange for his labor and loyalty, he certainly wasn’t going to lose 30% of it to Will’s family. In fact, the papers R.B. had for Will to sign transferred all but seven shares to Ray, at Will’s request, superceding his previous will. If only Will hadn’t insisted on having his will drawn up, this would be so much easier.
“R.B., we need to talk,” Will had said to him one late, summer afternoon while they were both working in the camp’s office. “Now that Dad’s gone, I’m going to draw up my own will. You might as well know, right now, that I’m not going to leave you my share of the camp. It seems to me, anyway, the longer I’m around, somehow the less I own of this place. If I go before you, I want to know that Mom or, if she’s gone, my sisters will get my share of the camp. I want it in writing that that’s the way it should go. You already have so much, I want to make sure that they have something from the work I’ve spent my life doing.”
“Sure, Will, if that’s what you want to do, go right ahead. I’m not going to stop you. I’ll just offer to buy them out and I’m sure I can make them a generous offer. As to you owning less the longer you’re here, frankly, you should be thankful I didn’t just kick you out with nothing and give your share to Ray. I love you, boy, and that’s why I didn’t. But until we incorporated, you do realize that your share only existed through my good graces and appreciation for the work you’ve done here. I just want to make that perfectly clear to you.”
But the truth is, Will, I can’t afford to buy them out right now. The camp’s not done as well the last year or two, with the cost of everything going up. With the cost of your illness on top of everything else, it’s probably going to cost me a great deal of money to keep things operating. I’m actually going to help your family out by not letting them get involved. It may bankrupt me, Will, and if they own much of it, it may bankrupt them as well. I’m just thinking of you.
With that final thought, R.B. downed the last of many Manhattan’s and fell into bed, sleeping the deep, dreamless sleep of the drunk and guiltless.
The next morning he went to the hospital, papers in hand, hungover, with the guilt returning in force.
“How are you doing today, sweet boy?” R.B. ran his hand down Will’s arm, giving his hand a squeeze when he got to it.
“I feel pretty weak. I don’t think I’ll be around much longer. I’m so tired!”
“I wish I could do more for you.”
“You’ve done so much for me, R.B. I want you to know that despite our troubles in the past, I’m grateful to you for all you’ve ever done for me. And the life I’ve had with you. There are things I wisht had turned out different and yes, I guess, I mean, I have some regrets, but there's nothing to be done about it now. I realize I made my bed and. . .Anyway, even when I didn't like you very much, I guess I kept on loving you I. . .I wanted you to know that. . .before. . .” Will’s voice trailed off.
“Now, now. We’ve had a good run, I’d say. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I do need you to do one thing for me, if you can manage it. I have this paper here that you need to sign. It’s to allow me to make your medical decisions for you when. . . in case you go. . . aren’t able to. It also makes me responsible for all the medical bills that the insurance doesn’t cover. Here just sign down at the bottom.” And R.B. laid the paper down for Will to sign, making sure the top part stayed covered so he couldn’t read it. Although, it’s doubtful he would have. He could barely manage his signature at the bottom as it was.
Later that day, R.B. called their lawyer back in Kentucky, “Bob? R.B. here. Yeah, well, thanks. He’s not doing too well. The doctors say it’s only a matter of days now. Thanks. Listen, that’s why I called. Will’s drawn up a new will and he wanted me to make sure to call and tell you to destroy your copy of the other one. Yeah, I can send you a copy, if you need it. Ok, I’d appreciate it. I’ll get it out tomorrow. Thanks. Talk to you soon. What’s that? Oh, yeah, sure, I’ll let you know about any arrangements when it happens. Bye, now.” With that, R.B. hung up the phone.
He walked over to the bar at the side of the living room and fixed himself another Manhattan and took a long sip of it. He sat it down and picked up a set of papers bound in blue legal paper and his lighter. Then he walked to the fireplace, opened the draft, laid the papers on the grate and held the lighter to them. They caught, burned quickly and left a small pile of ash in the bottom that the housekeeper would later complain about having to clean up. It was done. R.B. took another long drink.
Less than ten years later, karma exacted it’s revenge on R.B.’s betrayal. The doctors called it senior dementia, not Alzheimer’s. Out of three generations of a large family of long-lived, vital ‘till the end people, he alone lost his mind.
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