Then, in the third week of March, Black Thursday happened. The markets lost over half of their value on Wednesday and Thursday of that week. Some even believed it was part of a larger, coordinated, financial attack by a foreign government. Malicious or not, massive amounts of wealth vanished in a matter of hours. And so began the Greatest Depression’s American Spring.
Now, people were not even sure there would be an election. They were afraid the current administration would declare a state of emergency and simply forego a vote. If so, it was doubtful congress would intervene. Still, the senator campaigned relentlessly. The crowds were smaller, but they still showed up for a glimmer of light in an increasingly dark world.
Recently, he had begun an impromptu radio campaign. Much of the internet was under the strictest of governmental controls, and the remaining media outlets were openly hostile to Ames’ policies on limited government.
His radio broadcasts were recorded by HAM operators and independent stations and rebroadcast across the nation. Some state-run programs, such as Radio Lonestar, carried them as well.
Today, however, was a rare live broadcast. The café became increasingly crowded as the clock ticked ever closer to the scheduled nine o’clock start. The waitresses squeezed through the crowd again and again with plates comprising the same order, as if they were stuck in some strange, breakfast time loop.
Suddenly, the café was filled with the sound of applause coming through the speakers. The room’s bedlam of conversations was reduced to hushed whispers. The patrons waited anxiously for the junior senator to calm the crowd and begin his speech.
“Greetings Rapid City, South Dakota, and to everyone else within the sound of my voice. I’m humbled and honored that you would sacrifice your time to hear me speak. I hope that I don’t disappoint you today. We’re living in unprecedented times. As deplorable as the world’s condition is, I believe we’re merely standing at the precipice of an extended, dark period for humanity.
I won’t lie to you; you’ve been lied to by so many others for so very long. I don’t even know if it’s possible for us to turn back from this nightmare now. We may’ve already embarked on a journey that is one-way in nature, at least for our generation. I pray it’s not too late for our children to see freedom again, and I hope it is not too late for their children. I know that I don’t have all of the answers, but I do believe the current administration certainly has none of the answers.
Freedom, personal responsibility and charity, what do these words mean to us, as individuals? As a people? Have these words been distorted so egregiously, that we’ve forgotten their true meanings altogether? It was, ‘We the people,’ not, ‘We the centrally-planned governance.’ We the people have the freedom to determine our own fate for better or worse. We have a responsibility to ourselves, our families and our communities, not some bureaucrat ten states away. We have a responsibility to the less fortunate than us. We have a responsibility to support the needs of others through our churches and our civic organizations. I know that when I give a dollar to my church, ninety cents makes it to the cause I chose to support. What government dares boast such efficiency and integrity?
There is a very real possibility that, after this election is over, you won’t get any help from the Federal government, regardless if I’m elected. You have the responsibility of rebuilding your towns and cities. And it starts in your living rooms with your own families. You must elect honest, responsible, local leaders to guide your communities’ rebirth. You must reestablish the rule of law and the sacred rights of property. This election is not for who’ll govern you in the coming months, but for who will lay the foundation for a completely new government that will emerge in the coming years. It will either dictate to you or be dictated by you. You have a choice to make; continue on this reckless course or reign in your government before it consumes you whole.
I leave you all with this scripture from Paul to the Ephesians, ‘Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.’ We’re not guaranteed tomorrow by this passage, but we’re guaranteed a life and legacy that is pleasing to the Lord, our God. Thank you, and Godspeed.”
The crowd erupted with a standing ovation. Their cheers resounded through the café’s speakers as the senator waved and left the stage. The clamoring crowd began to wane until Senator Ames reemerged to the sounds of a classic rock anthem. His encore appearance pressed the people into a fever. The contagion affecting the group began to infect the café’s patrons; they also burst into a raucous display. Coffee mugs clinked in makeshift toasts and forks were thrust high in the air.
After a minute or two of pandemonium, the café began to calm. The mayor arose from a booth that also sat his wife and two children. He raised a hand and addressed the patrons.
“The man can work a crowd, can’t he?”
Applause and cheers erupted again.
“Don’t get me wrong, he is speaking my language, but let’s not get our hopes too high; he’s still just a man. Just like the last one, and the one before him, they all sound good until they get into office. Let us pray that Senator Ames is indeed the man we believe him to be, and we get a final chance to right this ship. But for now, let’s enjoy the company of the finest people the world has to offer, each other.”
Ch apter 10
Clay ton
Washington County, Alabama
They had been lying in wait for nearly an hour in Hellcat Bayou. Clayton had passed the time by whispering one-sided conversations to Moses and rubbing his furry head. Eventually, his loyal friend finally retired to the bottom of the boat for a much-needed nap. All alone, he lost himself in his own thoughts.
They might as well have been invisible. Even if it had been the middle of the day, the thick brush would have still concealed them from even the most observant of onlookers. He patiently watched the narrow wooden pier that extended precariously out from the opposite bank. The pier wasn’t much, but it still seemed out of place. They were deep within the river swamp.
Clay reasoned the top of the bank was probably eight feet above the water. A steep slope led from the crest to the pier below. Clayton did not particularly like the high bank. He knew it afforded anyone opposite of him the high ground, and with that, the natural advantage. Of course, if the situation ever did get out of control, he did not plan to stick around. Besides, Clayton never left home without a few tricks of his own.
It was not that he expected any problems, he had known these men most of his life. Times were different now, though. Friendships were expendable if one’s situation became dire enough. Still, he trusted Teddy and the deputy. The arrangement benefited both sides too, so it was in everyone’s best interest to ensure it continued without any complications.
Clayton usually met Teddy Lawson and Deputy Greene once or twice a month. Most of the time, the transactions were completely legitimate. He had taken receipt of everything from mail to medical supplies and transported them across the river. He had even ferried a desperate family to the other side once or twice.
The trips across the river had become very lucrative for Clayton. It was maybe fifteen miles from the pickup to the drop-off point. The same trip by land would span over 70 miles, one way, and go as far north as the crossing in Claiborne. One would have to pass through at least six desperate and struggling towns. Safety would be compromised from the moment one was on the highway. There were innumerable bridges that could be barricaded and choke points that could be leveraged to ambush a traveler. Navigating by water was the only logical option if goods were to be moved from one side to the other.