Russellvile to the rescue

Thomas Browning had corralled his children, 16-year-old Charles and 14- year-old Muriel, in the front yard of their house and herded them into the living room. Charles had been passing a football to Muriel, who was attempting unsuccessfully to snare it.

“You’ll never make a right end,” he complained as she dropped ball after ball.”

“And you’ll never be a quarterback,” she threw back at him.

Father had heard the last remarks. He laughed. “I’m not so sure. Why, Charles could be as good as Stanford quarterback Frankie Albert if he works hard enough at it.”

Muriel asked, “Who’s he?”

Her brother sighed. “Don’t girls know anything? Albert was the quarterback on the Stanford 1940 team. He was the first quarterback to play under this new T-formation everyone’s talking about. His coach, Clark Shaughnessy, invented it. I might could be a college QB.”

Muriel twisted her nose in an “I doubt it” expression before replying, “I don’t want to be a right end. I want to be a cheerleader, first a Panther and then a Wildcat at UK.”

Father had laughed again. “Now, there’s a positive attitude if I ever saw one.”

In the living room the trio was joined by Allegra. “What’s the reason for this little powwow?” she asked. “I was all set to start supper.”

“More disturbing news, I’m afraid,” Father explained. “Somehow, through the Red Cross, Knut Larsen has received another letter from his brother Rolf.”

“Not bad news, I hope.” Allegra sighed.

“Yes….and no. Knut’s brother’s family has been hit hard by the Nazis. They need warm blankets and food supplies before winter.”

The two children listened as their mother continued. “But what can we do? How can we help? We’re way over here across the waters.”

“The gist of it is…” His voiced trailed off for an instant. “Oh, I don’t know all the details. What I understand is…if we can get together a goodly amount of the items that Rolf’s family needs, the Red Cross can ship it to a point in Sweden where it will be picked up and somehow delivered. I really can’t explain it. Knut has asked me for my help. With the War and rationing and the twins, he barely is getting by providing for his own. He’s asked me for help.”

Mother nodded. “I gathered that. I repeat: how can we help?  It is our duty to help our neighbors however we might; but we are using our ration stamps entirely each month. Especially coffee, sugar, and the like. After all, we are in the War now, too.”

“That’s why I’ve called this family meeting. We’ll have to put our heads together and come up with something. And fast. They need help now or they’ll have a bleak winter.”

“And a very BAD Christmas,” Charles added. “I can’t imagine having nothing in the winter, especially at Christmas.”

“But Christmas is a long way off,” Muriel piped up.

 “Yes,” Father nodded, “but time has a way of flying. The letter took two months to reach here. I am supposing if we can somehow get a large package to Rolf that it will take longer than that. It would be nice if we could get them what they need by Christmas.”

“I suppose we can cut back on our own needs, that we can use some of our ration stamps for coffee, sugar, flour, and the like; but we will need money to buy blankets and clothing. Boots and shoes. I’ll bet they could use those.”

Charles leaped to his feet. “I won’t mind giving up some of those things. And I could get the fellas on the football team to help. We start practice in a couple of weeks.”

Muriel almost shouted. “And I can help. I can talk to my English teacher. Miss Sally Flowers. I’ll bet she’d have some ideas for us girls. And the school librarian, Miss Mary Deshazer. She and Mary Ellen Varble are very creative.”

Father was more realistic. “But we will need money. We’ll have to ship the items to the coast. And there’ll be other expenses.” He was always business. He knew the outs and ins of reality.

Mother smiled. “Okay, let’s be positive. We can do it; but we’ll need help. Let’s all see if we can get the ball rolling before school starts back in September!

The LoJo

And roll the ball they did!!  Charles spoke with Coach Donaldson during one of the pre-school practices; and Coach agreed to let Charles speak to his teammates about how they might help. Several of them, including Alva Ray “Big Daddy” Thomas, Brents Thurmond, and Bernard “Slim Jim” Welborn, replied that they would do what they could. And when the talk got around, several non-team students came forward. Bill Gorrell volunteered himself and his younger brother Frank, saying that Frank kept up on world affairs and was planning a career in politics.                              

Then there was little Mervyn (Vick Salve) Vick. He had been watching practice that day and latched onto the idea. He even said that he bet he could get some of his junior high buddies to help.

Now all that was left was for Charles to tell them what to do.

Muriel met with success, too. All the other five girls in her Sunday School class at the First Baptist Church were eager to assist in any way they could. In fact, they made their help their winter project, calling it “Hands Across the Waters”.

Of course, neither Muriel nor Charles were allowed to tell the family or the country that they were helping. Their father had reminded them that spies might be about and harm might come to the family they were helping if the spies learned about it. “Have you seen the warning posters in the post office?” Father asked.

Charles nodded. “Yes. I never thought about it the true meaning until now. The one that says LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIP is sort of scary.”

Father added, “I shudder when I see the one A CARELESS WORD…A NEEDLESS LOSS. There’s a dead civilian sprawled on a beach. He was probably on a vital mission, and someone told on him.”

“Girls are in this War also,” Muriel exclaimed. “Have you seen the poster with Rosie the Riveter declaring, WE CAN DO IT,TOO?”

“The one that seems most appropriate for us as a family,” Father remembered, “is the one in the big window at Berkman Brothers. It declares SERVICE ON THE HOME FRONT…THERE’S A JOB FOR EVERY AMERICAN. It shows a family much like our own.”

Mother, who had but listened until this moment, spoke, “My homemaker’s club is using the poster which shows our troops firing their weapons at the enemy. The wording is BACK EM UP WITH MORE METAL. We’re helping by saving all our empty cans and turning them in down at the Brown-Richardson Lumber Yard. There’s a truck that comes by weekly from Nashville and picks them up.”

Father smiled. He was proud of the ways his family had come up with to help not only Lar’s brother’s family but the entire war effort. “So, where are we now?” he inquired.

Charles told about the fellas helping him by using their own sugar, coffee, and flour ration stamps to buy some of the needed food. These fellas, too, would be giving up sweets and the like for awhile.

Mother chirped, “That’s wonderful. With what non-perishables we have collected with our ration stamps and with all that Charles’ friends have provided, we have enough. Now, we must come up with the cash for clothes and blankets.”

“Already on it!” Muriel winked slyly. “Some of my friends (whom I dare not                            mention) and I have been manning a kissing booth in the park on Saturdays. We have already collected 18 dollars.”

Dad started to sputter, but Mother wagged a finger at him. “It’s no different than what you’ve told me the American girls in the past did, selling lunches and going on picnics to the highest bidder.

Father laughed. “No. No, I guess it’s not…and it’s for a good cause. And I am pleased as punch to tell you that my co-workers have kicked in nearly fifty dollars.

“But we’ll need more…a lot more,” Mom reminded, but there was not even a hint of despair in her voice.

“I know! I got it! Oh, I’m a genius!” Charles hopped about the room on one leg. “Then SPILL IT,” Father clapped.

“We’ll have the play-by-play guy at the football games announce what we are trying to do; then we’ll get the cheerleaders to pass potato chip cans up and down the rows, asking that the fans pitch in their loose change. I tell you, it’s a HUMDINGER of a plan.”

“You know, you might be right, Son. I’ll drop by Dr. Guy Clark’s office tomorrow….he’s chairman of the Board of Education…to make sure your plan is okay.”  After hesitating as if he were trying to recall some facts exactly, he continued. “Wilkers, I’ll take your plan to the rest of the board members, so Dr. Clark won’t have to spring it on them. Let’s see, there’s the Elmer Shelton, W.V. Leedom, the Honorable Thomas Rhea, and….and…Morris Duncan at the drugs store, of course.”

Charles knew Maxine Mansfield, editor of the Spitzerinktum, the school paper. She agreed to run a promo for the cause in the publication.

At the half of the very next football game, when the Panthers shellacked the Morganfield Guerillas 44-6 (with Junior tailback Owen “Chap” Chapman scoring five of the touchdowns), cheerleaders Barbara Reynolds, Carolyn McLean, Nan Richardson, and Joe Ryan passed the potato chips tins through the crowd; when the money was turned in to Principal Haynes, the fans had contributed a whopping TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY DOLLARS and 52 cents.

“We have enough!” Father exclaimed.

A week later all the items were in the Brownings’ living room. “It looks like Santa has come really early,” Muriel noted.

Mother took inventory. “There are six winter coats, six pairs of warm boots, six woolen blankets (they had been able to attain the brown army blankets that were in use at Camp Campbell), four pounds of sugar, four pounds of coffee, two pounds of tea, two pounds of salt, a container of pepper, several 4-count packages of cigarettes and a small Kentucky cured country ham.”

“Are we within our 40-pound limit?” Father asked.

“I think so,” Mother nodded, “but we can always throw out the cigarettes if we’re not.”

“Just how does all this work?” Charles wanted to know.                          

Father grimaced. “I’m not sure. These items will be packed into a metal cylinder that the Red Cross uses and trucked to a port like New York. From there it will go to Sweden…. and that’s all I know. We now have to put our trust in God to see that it is delivered.”

“Will we know if it gets delivered?” Muriel asked.

Father shook his head. “All the way to Lar’s brother’s family? I doubt if we will ever hear….until the war is over.

But regardless of the outcome, the Brownings had accomplished their part of the mission.