5 comments/ 25574 views/ 3 favorites Connecting Rod Ch. 03-04 By: coaster2 Chapter 3: The New Owner August 30, 1968 My first act as the new owner was to call a meeting with Shelly, Jurgen and my mother. We met for supper at the house. Mom had prepared a typical Sunday dinner of roast beef with plenty of potatoes, beans and corn. Shelly devoured her portion as if she hadn't eaten in a week. I wondered if perhaps she hadn't. Jurgen was more refined with old-fashioned table manners, much like my mother. We talked during the meal with my telling them a little bit about my background and what my ambitions for the station were. I could see the enthusiasm in both Shelly and Jurgen's expressions. I stopped worrying about getting their support for the changes I planned." "So, you're a real live cowboy, then?" Shelly asked. "Was. Not any more," I said, smiling to keep it light. "I've never met a cowboy before. Did you ride a horse?" "Yeah." "Did you have fancy boots and a big hat?" She was obviously fascinated with my former life. "Still do." "Did you shoot a gun?" "I had a rifle ... to keep the wolves and coyotes away." Shelly shook her head, looking at me in what I interpreted as something close to awe. Mom was watching and listening to this, almost laughing at Shelly as she probed my past. Shelly suddenly blushed, realizing I suppose that she had been a bit star-struck with my former life. Mom helped her out. "I went over the books this afternoon and the employee records as well," she said as she turned to Shelly. "I notice your proper name is Michelle." "Yeah. When I was a kid, I couldn't say Michelle and it came out something like "shell." After a while, my mom started calling me Shelly and it stuck. I don't mind it," she said with a small smile. "Are you from here?" I asked. "Not far. Sedro Woolley. South down the interstate and east a bit." "Are your parents still there?" Mom asked. "My dad is. My mom took off years ago. My dad's a handyman when he's sober. I don't know where my mom is." she said sadly. "Oh ... I'm sorry," Mom said. "Where are you living now?" "I'm renting a basement place up on the north side. It's kind of a dump, but it's all I can afford." She didn't sound bitter, she was just reciting a fact. "And you, Jurgen?" mother continued. "Where are you living?" "I haf a room in a boarding house near ze docks. It is adequate for me," he said quietly. "Humpf," was mother's only comment. "That was one fine meal, Mrs. Williams," Shelly said after a silence. "Ja ... very goot," Jurgen echoed. "I'm glad you liked it. I haven't cooked for many people lately. It's nice to have company. We should do this more often," Mom smiled. "You won't find me gettin' here late," Shelly laughed. Jurgen was nodding his approval as was I. It sounded like a good idea. I wanted to build a team with these two, and Sunday dinner might be just the way to do it. I had spent much of the mealtime watching and listening. Shelly was interesting. She was obviously rough hewn, but if she could do half of what she said she was capable of, she was quite a talented woman. I looked at her closely. I could see the clothes she wore were clean, but well worn. She was an attractive woman, but not in the ordinary sense. She was a sturdy build, I thought to myself. This was no slim, dainty girl, but just the same, there was a quality about her that was appealing. Her brown, wavy hair was cut short. She wore little makeup, but she needed little. Her face was clear and her brown eyes sparkled when she smiled. It was a very attractive smile. Alternating between brash and bashful, she had been brought up hardscrabble and had survived it. She admitted to dropping out of school before finishing grade eleven and working as a waitress until Bart gave her a chance at the garage. Still young at twenty-five, she was eager to prove herself to me, the new owner. I noticed how my mother had easily accepted Shelly and I was pleased. It made Shelly's life easier and the girl rewarded us with her enthusiasm. Jurgen Burgmann was much easier to understand. Tall, lean, and gray-haired, he was handsome in his own quiet way. He was always neat and everything about him spoke discipline. Quiet to a fault, he kept to himself unless approached directly. There wasn't a hint of surliness about him. He was, I thought, simply a private man. He told us he had made his way to America thanks to relatives in the Chicago area. He lived with them for a few years before setting out on his own. He was still reserved about expressing himself in English. To me, it seemed like a matter of self-confidence. Jurgen confessed however, it was to avoid discrimination. In his mind, there were a number of people out there still fighting the war. His English was better than he allowed others to know, but now, with my understanding of German, he said he felt more secure. He told me I showed no signs of prejudice, and in fact, it was the opposite. I made it plain that I was impressed with Germany and the reconstruction of the west. We met in the living room over coffee and a cake that Mom had baked earlier that day. It was time for me to lay out my plan. "I think you all know I intend to make a lot of changes to the station. We are going to strip it down and build it back up again. When we are done, it's going to be the cleanest, best looking, best run gas station and shop anywhere. I've got the experience to know how to do that. So does Jurgen, I think. And Shelly, you say you can do a lot of different things. That will help too. It puts us in pretty good shape, I figure." I paused to make sure Jurgen understood me, and saw him nod with a slight smile. He understood. "The first thing to do is to close the station for renovations, but I don't want to upset any customers. Do we have anyone scheduled for the next week?" I looked at Shelly who shrugged and Jurgen who also signaled he didn't know. "OK, I'll call Bart in the morning and see if we do. I'll try and make arrangements for any work to get done somewhere else by someone we can trust. I don't want any customer thinking we don't care about their business. "Mom, would you please call Ted in the morning and arrange a meeting for you and me? We need to talk about new pumps and signs. Sure as heck we won't get 'em overnight." "Ted already called this afternoon, Rod. He said he'd be by tomorrow," she smiled. "Good. Problem number one solved." I was getting excited about finally moving toward realizing my ambition. "What're we goin' to have to buy for work clothes?" Shelly asked cautiously. "Uhmmm ... nothin' I can think of, except some safety boots. We're contracting with a uniform service for coveralls for you, Jurgen and me. We'll have a clean pair every day and the service looks after the laundry. I want us to look smart and professional. It gives the customers confidence." I heard a sigh from Shelly. "Oh, and Shelly, we'll pay for the first pair of boots." I got a big smile in return from the girl. I had already decided to talk to Ted about wages for the two. I wanted to make sure they were paid properly according to the going rate for their skills. The difficult one would be Shelly. I wasn't sure how to measure her abilities, but I would have to take a stab at it. "When do you want to start?" Shelly asked. "Tomorrow. We'll meet at the station at the usual time and start planning the closure and the work that needs to be done. The big thing will be pumps, signs and the new shop floor. The rest of the stuff is standard plumbing fixtures, lighting and handyman stuff. I'll be hiring painters to do the outside and inside." "I guess it doesn't matter if I wear my old overalls, huh?" Shelly grinned. "Nope," I chuckled. "I don't figure they'll survive the next couple of weeks." I didn't expect it to be easy, but as we neared completion of the renovations, I was beat. More importantly, Shelly, Jurgen, and even my mother were bone weary. It was late Friday afternoon as I summoned my last reserves of energy to walk from the pumps to the shop. The shop with the new paint job and the bright new gray epoxy floor. The smell of fresh paint hung in the air. Jurgen was sitting on a stool with his head in his hands. He had been organizing the tool racks and the storage racks by himself. As I looked around, I saw Shelly slumped down on the floor, her back propped against the wall, her eyes closed. I walked over to her and slid down the wall beside her. "That's all for today, Shelly," I said quietly. "You worked yourself too hard, girl. You need some rest. We all do." "Look at this place, boss. It's crazy. I never thought I'd live to see the day it would look like this." Despite her fatigue, her eyes sparkled with pleasure. "Nobody worked harder to make it this good than you, Shelly." "I wanted to see if it could really happen, you know? I don't think I really believed it 'till the last couple of days." "We still got some things to do, but ... the worst is done." I had closed my eyes as I leaned back against the glossy white and blue wall. "I don't know as how I can stand right now," Shelly moaned. "I'm just glad you hired those painters. I think we'd be here a month from now if you didn't." "I know what you mean. I haven't been this tired since branding season. Let's just set a bit and rest. Ma's looking after supper for us. She'll bring it over in a while. Now ... we can eat off the floor," I laughed feebly. Jurgen appeared, slowly walking toward us. He too had used up all his energy reserves. "We are almost done, Herr Williams. I did not think we could do all this in two weeks. It did not seem possible for just four of us," he said as he took his place beside me. "You two were great. We wouldn't have got anywhere near this without you. I gotta thank you for all you did. I think one more day should be enough to let us open. Monday morning we're back in business I reckon." "I know one thing for sure," Shelly offered. "I'm not havin' any trouble sleepin'. Going back to my regular job is gonna' be like taking time off." "It's been worth it though," I said. "Just think what this place was like two weeks ago when we started, and look at it now. When the sign lights up and we turn on the pumps on Monday, we're going to be the newest, cleanest, best-run ARCO station in the country." Shelly started to giggle. The giggle turned into a laugh and it was contagious. All three of us were laughing. "What's so funny?" I finally managed between fits of laughter. Shelly calmed herself to at least get something out. "I was thinkin' ... before you came along ... I was thinkin' about ... thinkin' about goin' on the fish boats," she finally managed, immediately followed by more uncontrolled laughter. "How's that funny?" I blurted. "I get seasick just standin' on the dock," she wailed as another spasm of laughter gripped her. The laughter had been infectious and the three of us had been reduced to tears in our exhausted state when Mom arrived with the supper. "What was all that noise about?" she asked. "Oh, Ma, don't get us started again. I'll tell you later," I said, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "Well, the three of you can't eat sittin' on the floor like that. See if you can stand and we'll use the card table I brought along. I got some lawn chairs too. It'll be like a picnic." "Yah," Shelly snorted again. "A picnic in a garage," she managed as she started to laugh again. It took every bit of effort by the three of us to gain our feet and shuffle to the new front office area. "I think you people have been working too hard," mother said with a serious tone. "If you aren't careful, you're gonna get sick." I could tell she was serious. "Mom, we're almost finished. Between you and Shelly and Jurgen, we got it done. I think we're gonna be OK. We just need to get them last tiddly-bits done and we can relax." "Well, tomorrow, I'm going to hand out those flyers in the neighborhood. Lettin' 'em know we're back in business. There'll be an advertisement in the paper too. I looked after that yesterday." "Thanks, Mom. We couldn't have done it without you." Shelly and Jurgen nodded their agreement. My mother had done all the detail work, including contacting the newspaper for the opening on Monday and calling the customers whose business had been farmed out to let them know the station would be in business again. At mom's suggestion, each customer we farmed out would be given a free oil change coupon to bring them back. On top of that, she was making sure we all had something to eat on a regular basis. Tonight it was homemade lasagna and a salad. Just like every other night, there was nothing left despite how tired we all were. But that didn't stop Mom from looking ahead. "I've been thinkin', Rod. We might get a whole lot of people down here lookin' to see what all the fuss is about. I think we should make up some coffee and I'll get some sodas from the store along with some cookies. Make them folks feel right at home." "Great idea, Mom. Let's do it. We're bound to get some folks just drivin' by and seeing the sign." "I'll look after it tomorrow after I do the flyers," she volunteered. "Now look who's tellin' us to take it easy," Shelly chuckled. "Aw ... it's no big deal. Won't take but a few minutes. I need a ride, though," she hinted. "Allow me," Jurgen said quietly. "Rod, may I use your truck?" "Sure ... help yourself. I've got plenty to do here." I looked over at Shelly and could see she was having trouble staying awake. "Shelly ... can I drive you home?" "Thanks. I haven't got much left in the tank right now," she yawned. "I'll be back directly," I said as I helped Shelly up from the low-slung lawn chair. It was only a ten minute drive to Shelly's house, but I could see she was very tired. I opened the passenger side door and helped her into the cab. By the time we were halfway there, Shelly's eyes were closed and I was sure she was asleep. I felt sorry for her. She had worked hard without complaint. I never expected her to put this much into our project, but now I knew she didn't lack for effort. When we arrived at the house, I opened her door and helped her sleep-walk into the small, dark basement suite. I could smell the dampness and wondered how healthy this little place was. I wished she could find a better place to live. She deserved a break. With her arm around my shoulder, I led her to the tiny bedroom and laid her on the bed. I pulled off her boots and threw a blanket over her. She hadn't woken. As I looked down at the young woman, the thought crossed my mind that I was very lucky to find people like Shelly. She was going to be a very good employee. When I arrived back at the station, the lights were out and the place was locked up. I climbed back into the pickup and headed for home. As I walked into our house I was surprised to see mother sitting in the living room, having a coffee. "Shelly alright?" "She's dead to the world, Mom. She was asleep before we got out of the downtown. I gotta tell you though, I don't think much of that place she's livin' in. Pretty dark and it smells bad." My mother looked at me thoughtfully. "Rod, we have all these extra rooms in this house. We could have Jurgen and Shelly move in here. There are enough bathrooms and beds for everyone and then some. That way, they'd be getting home-cooked meals and a clean place to live," she said confidently. "What about all the extra work for you, Mom? I mean cookin' and cleanin' and such." "Got to do them things anyway, Roddy. Cooking for four is as easy as two 'cept you make twice as much. Besides, you said you wanted this to be a family. They could pay a small rent and have a nice place to live." I looked at my mother and smiled. She had this all worked out. There wasn't much point in arguing it with her. The only question was how to get Shelly and Jurgen to agree. "So ... how you gonna get them to come along?" I asked. "You don't think Shelly will say no, do you?" "No ... I suppose not. What about Jurgen though?" "You leave him to me. He'll be along, I'm thinkin'," she said, with a knowing smile. "Well, it's fine with me. I think it's a great idea as long as you can handle it." Mom was right. Shelly bought in almost right away. Once she had made up her mind, she couldn't wait to move. She packed up her meager worldly possessions the next afternoon. I was surprised and dismayed at how little she owned. I was feeling bad for the girl. She needed a nice place to live and a decent wage to let her get ahead in the world. This move was like a shot of adrenalin to her. She couldn't wait to pitch in and help around the house. It took Mom a bit longer to convince Jurgen. He was a private man and although his rooming house was modest, he was reluctant to give it up and move into a family home that wasn't his own. Mom wasn't sure if it was his feeling of imposing on us or if he was just shy. It didn't matter. She finally convinced him later that week and Jurgen moved his equally modest possessions to the big house in the old town. * Chapter 4: A Grand Opening September 23, 1968 The opening was a big success. I had to send Shelly off in the truck for more soft drinks and cookies before noon. The newspaper sent a reporter with a photographer and made a big deal about it. They claimed it was the first signs of urban renewal in the downtown. A four column picture of the station with me and Ted Reynolds shaking hands in front was featured on page three. I couldn't have hoped for better promotional help. Ted was invited for dinner that evening. Understandably, he was in a very good mood. "You've done one hell of a job getting that station up to standard, Rod. I can't believe how good it looks. It puts some of the newer ones on the interstate to shame. Congratulations!" "Thanks. Everyone here pitched in full time. We were beat on Friday night, but it was worth it." "I can't count the number of people who said somethin' about how clean it was. I almost hate to work in the shop for fear of messing it up," Shelly added. "Well, we did everything we could to make it easy to keep clean. Jurgen came up with the idea for the non-skid epoxy floor. We already know it's a snap to clean." "You even did the pit. That surprised me," Ted said. "No point in lettin' it look grubby when we went to all the trouble to make the rest of the place pretty." Ted nodded, then shaking his head. "That looked like a hell of a lot of work for just you four in two weeks." "It was," Mom chimed in. "Now we just have to find some customers to make it all worthwhile." "After watching the crowd today, I have a feeling that won't be a problem," Ted smiled. He was right, but it didn't happen immediately. The old customers came back. Once they saw the new shop their first question was about how much the prices would go up to pay for it. They were pleasantly surprised when informed that in general, prices would remain the same as before the renovations. Quickly, new business did find its way to our door. We had reopened in late September and by early December, we were profitable. When the four of us sat down for a meeting on the first Sunday of the month, Mom and I gave them the good news. "Well, Mom has confirmed that November was our first profitable month. Also, we brought in quite a bit more new business than we had in October. We really want the repeat customers, so it will be a while before we know how well we're really doing. "I've got a couple of ideas that I want to talk to you about," I said, looking around the table. "First, I want to hire a part-time guy to help out around the station. You know, pump gas, maybe change a tire, clean plugs ... just the simple stuff. He'll need a driver's license and he has to be neat and clean." Connecting Rod Ch. 03-04 "Why do we need another person?" Shelly asked. "Because none of us have had more than one day off a week since we reopened in September. It's now December seventh. On top of that, we are all working long hours. Sooner or later, we're going to wear out. We need to bring someone into help spell us off." Mom was nodding her agreement. The fact that I had already broached the idea with her earlier smoothed the way for the new plan. "When do you want to do this?" Shelly asked again. "First of January, if we can. I'll put an ad in the local paper. I'm sure we'll be swamped with applications. We should be able to find someone from that." "Perhaps I can assist," Jurgen said in his quiet voice. "I have an acquaintance who works at the paper mill. His son is looking for work to earn money for college. I think he might be a good choice." "Great. Let's talk to him. I want to meet his father too. I want to make sure they know what's expected of him. What's your friend's name?" "Matti Numminen. His son's name is Miikka, but everyone calls him Mike. He is very clean and a big boy. I think he is seventeen years. I will talk to Matti if you will permit." "Yes ... let's do that before we put the ad in the paper. It will save us time and money if he's a good prospect. Thank you Jurgen." "You said you had a couple of things to talk about," Shelly jumped in again, this time with a smile. "Yes. I am looking for a good quality used car. A four door sedan. It will have to be clean and in good running order. I want to use it as a courtesy car." "What's a courtesy car?" Shelly asked. "Something I read about in a magazine. We will use it to drive people to their work or home when they leave their car here for service or repair. If need be, we will pick them up at their work and bring them to the station when their car is ready. It will be a special service that no one else offers." "What will it cost our customer?" Jurgen asked. "Nothing. It's just one more thing to find and keep loyal customers. Mom and I have worked it out and we think it will be a good investment. Anyway, it's time I had a proper car and with the truck, we'll have two vehicles around for whatever we need. The truck will still be the workhorse for picking up parts and supplies." "Jeeze, boss, that sounds pretty expensive. Are you sure you can afford it?" Shelly asked with a worried look. "If Mom says we can, then ... we can," I grinned. I couldn't help but notice the relieved look on Shelly's face. Mike Numminen and his father arrived at the station at five o'clock on Monday afternoon. Jurgen introduced them. "Thanks for coming along Mr. Numminen," I greeted the father. "It's Matti, and I'm surprised how young you are," said the big, smiling, blonde-haired man. "Call me Rod. Yes, I guess I am. This must be Mike," I said, turning to an even bigger Numminen and holding out my hand. The big youngster returned the gesture and nodded. "Yes, sir." "What do you do at the mill, Matti?" "I'm the maintenance manager. I came here with Valmet from Finland along with our new paper machine nearly ten years ago. We decided to stay when they needed someone who knew the equipment. My wife and family are very happy here," he said with a smile. "Your son looks like prime football material," I grinned. "Yes. He is a lineman ... offense and defense. He likes the hard work," an obviously proud father proclaimed. "Well, I can't promise him anything that hard, but I can use a reliable, friendly young guy for work around the shop. Do you have a driver's license, Mike?" "Yes, sir. I've been driving since last year." "Any accidents or tickets?" I asked. "No sir. I would lose my driving privileges if I had either," he said looking at his father. "OK. There will be some driving duties and I need a safe driver," I explained. I turned to the father. "Are you OK with Miikka working here?" "Yes. I like the look of your station and Jurgen says you are a very good manager. That's good enough for me," he said with a smile. "Well, I'll have to thank Jurgen twice then. Once for recommending your son and once for saying good things about the boss," I laughed. Rod turned to the younger man. "Mike, your hours are Friday from 6:00 pm to 9:00 pm and Saturday from 9:00 am to 5:30 pm. We pay $3.00 per hour and time and a half for overtime. Will that be OK? "Yes, sir. That sounds great," Mike answered enthusiastically. We shook hands on it. "Are you familiar with Volvos," Matti asked me as we walked out of the garage. "Yes. There were a couple of them on the base in Germany when I was there. A 1961 544 and a '64 P1800. Good solid machines. Simple and built for tough duty." "My wife has an older 544 and it needs to be tuned and serviced regularly. I would appreciate your advice on it. She likes it, but I'm wondering if I should sell it or keep it." "Happy to do that for you. I really enjoy working on European machines. I should be able to give you an opinion on it." "Good. I'll have it brought in by Miikka when you have time." The three of us shook hands and I watched as they drove off in the father's Ford Galaxy. I was happy with my newest employee on sight. He was polite, neat and big. I wondered how many of the young girls would be after this handsome young guy. Mike started that weekend on Friday evening, showing up fifteen minutes early for his 6:30 shift. He was driving his mother's Volvo. I showed him the pumps and cash register operations while Shelly took the time to show him around the shop. His education in shop work would come as the opportunities arose. Both Jurgen and Shelly were satisfied with the young man. Jurgen and I looked over the Numminen Volvo. It was obviously a European model as the speedometer was in kilometers per hour. They checked the odometer and saw over 273,000 registered on it. "Wow, look at that number, Jurgen." Jurgen smiled. "This is not unusual. Autos are very expensive in Europe as you know. You must look after them to have a long life." We moved the car over the pit and went through the mechanicals top to bottom. "I don't see anything really wrong with it, Jurgen. Mind you, we didn't do an engine tear-down. We should check the compression and have a look at the sump though." Jurgen nodded his agreement as we climbed out of the pit. I pulled the owners manual out of the glove box and went over it. I'm sure my face registered surprise. "Jurgen ... every single service this car has had since it was bought is logged in this book. You weren't kidding about treating it with kid gloves. I wonder how much business we'd have if people in this country treated their cars with this much respect?" Jurgen snorted his reply and went about running the compression test. In the end, we pronounced the car sound and wondered if we were missing something. It was Matti's wife's car and that gave me an idea. I picked up the phone and called Barry Washburne at home. Barry was the owner of the San Juan Autobody. He was also a member of the Chamber of Commerce, a commercial resident of the downtown, and a new business contact for us. "Barry, I'm sorry to bother you, but I had a quick question for you. What would it cost to repaint a Volvo 544 ... you know ... the one that looks like a forties Ford coupe?" "Well, Rod, as long as it's not some crazy color or paint scheme, $275 to $300 should do a first class job." "That's great, thanks. I may have a customer for you. It's a really good machine. No rust or dents. It just needs to look pretty again," I laughed. "You send them over anytime. Thanks for thinking of us." I hung up and pulled one of Barry's cards out of my box and set it beside the phone. I would talk to Matti tomorrow when I gave him the diagnosis on the car. A new paint job and some seat covers and this car would be transformed, I figured. A lot cheaper than a new car. When Bart Towsley owned the station, the operating hours were 7:00 am to 5:30pm, six days a week. I surveyed both the local and interstate stations to see what their hours were. The interstate stations were open 24 hours for the most part. A few closed at midnight and opened at 6:00 am. The local town stations were generally open at 7:00 am and closed at 5:30, every day but Sunday, just like ours. I thought about what made sense for our city-based station. Then I checked the bylaws for regulated hours of operation. On a hunch, I decided to remain open on Friday evenings, still closing on Sunday. More and more stores were remaining open until 9:00 pm on Fridays. I guessed that we might have customers taking advantage of our opening when they were shopping Friday evening. Time would tell if the new operating hours would be profitable. For now, I had barely enough staff to man the station for the hours I had chosen. Our people were working nearly fifty hours each week and I knew that couldn't last. It would have to change in the New Year. The week after hiring Mike, I was presented with an opportunity I couldn't resist. As I scanned the classifieds in the local paper, I saw an ad for a 1962 Mercedes 220 SE. It was the European version with the big glass headlight covers and the 2.2 litre Bosch fuel injected six cylinder engine. It had been brought over by an ex-military man and was for sale at a reasonable price. I phoned the seller and asked to see the car. It was exactly what I wanted. Painted an off-white and in good condition with only 82,000 kilometers, I drove it for several miles to make sure all the parts and pieces were working properly. With the owner's permission, I phoned Jurgen and we met at the garage to inspect it more closely. When Jurgen gave it his approval, I knew I would buy it. Now, it was just a matter of convincing my mother. Happily, when Jurgen approved, mother approved. She trusted his judgement and was very pleased with the elegant four door sedan. It would add a touch of class to our home, if nothing else. Mom prodded me to get a Christmas tree for the house. She had brought all the family tree decorations with us from Cut Bank. Jurgen and I visited several of the lots in mid-December before settling on a very nice blue spruce. The ten foot ceilings on the main floor of the old home would easily accommodate the big tree and Shelly helped Mom decorate that Sunday. It would be the first Christmas together for our foursome and all of us were looking forward to it. It had taken very little time to establish our new "family." Christmas 1968 fell on a Thursday, and I made an arbitrary decision to close the station on Wednesday at noon and open Friday at noon. I was getting more worried that I would burn Shelly and Jurgen out if they didn't get some relief. Mike was out of school all that week and he would share much of the load with me. Shelly would work half days in the morning, and Jurgen would work half days in the afternoon. Each would be paid for full time. When the station was closed at noon Wednesday, I left a note on the office door with our phone number in case of emergency. Mom couldn't remember a Christmas she enjoyed more. She had her new "family" around her and it she said a number of times what a pleasure it was to make the Christmas dinner that year. She even attended midnight mass at the local church. It had been many years since she had observed that occasion, but she said this year was special in her mind. It was a new start after Dad's death over a year ago. She felt good about her new life in the Northwest, and her new friends. Each of us found the time to shop for Christmas presents for the others. Mom and I had always had modest gifts for each other, but knowing the circumstances of Jurgen and Shelly, we were especially anxious not to go overboard. In the end, we found the special gifts we were looking for. I did wonder how they found the time when they were working such long hours. They all found the same solution. They individually consulted with Mom and she became the appointed shopper. It was left to the three of us to decide what to get her. Naturally, we consulted each other. In the end, Christmas morning was a happy and very satisfying surprise for everyone. Mom had been giving clothes to Shelly over the fall and winter. It wasn't an outward display, sometimes covered by the ruse that clothes she bought for herself didn't fit or didn't look right when she got them home. It fooled no one. Shelly and Mom were nowhere near the same size, but Shelly accepted gracefully, knowing full well the generosity of my mother was genuine. I noticed that Jurgen wasn't left out either. The odd new sweater or shirt would somehow fit him better than me. I had to smile at my mother's little game, even though it was poorly disguised. She wanted to help and it was only polite to allow her this little extravagance. As always, my thanks to Erik Thread for his skillful and helpful editing. Any errors are mine alone.