After Julia Silvers left, I closed up shop myself. I needed to pack a few things and check if the old jalopy could make the trip. Otherwise I would have to take the train. As I walked the six blocks to my apartment, I remembered the last time I had ridden a train down south.
It had been December, 1917. My regiment had finally been assigned and we were sent from Syracuse down to Camp Greene in North Carolina. One day during training a few of the guys organized a baseball game. My buddy Frank Delaney and I were trying to get some extra sleep that afternoon, when Sgt. Wood comes and drags us out to the game. Frank was a Southpaw and Woods thought that would be an advantage. Anyway, the game goes along and I didn’t have a whole lot to do out in left field. Suddenly, Lamont Wilson hits a high foul ball. Lamont was a scrawny little guy that never shut up. I never cared much for him so I really wanted to make the catch. I went after that ball as fast as I could and dove. I hit the ground pretty hard, but I managed to hang on for the out.
I must have been concentrating on the ball pretty hard, because when I looked up I saw this doll with either the longest legs or shortest skirt I had ever seen. I didn’t really care which it was, and jumped up and introduced myself. The Sarge nearly had a heart attack and ran over to hustle me back onto the field. Turned out it was the wife of Capt. Walton. Real nice gal.
I heard the Captain passed away a year or two ago. Maybe after I’m done with this case I’ll have to stop by Charlotte and look the widow up.