TARGETED CHAPTER 1 "It Begins With Mary" (A True Story)

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Mary had lost her husband, John, to whom she was married for more than fifty years almost a decade ago. Now at 86 she had learned to live by herself marking the days when she would be able to join him again.  She honestly believed she would.  By her own admission she knew that he was never very far away.  In spite of her lonely vigil for her departed friend and love, for the sake of their family, she had kept her last promise to him and held strong.  She would always say that she was there for both of them.

It was the memory of John that filled the only house she had known as home since Mr. Roosevelt ran the White House.  Her only diversion came each day when she filled her time tending to her beautiful roses.  Mary called them her pride and joy. In her world, where little could be accomplished due to limitations brought on by advanced age, she had never-the-less triumphed in her roses, justly winning the recognition and admiration of her community.  She had rightly grown very protective of them. 

During each day Mary found herself busy in a routine that had become so completely a part of her that it required nearly nothing more than a half thought, a reflex that required a minimum of effort, and was meant mostly to keep her moving and alive.  She would dust her old piano, then the shelves full of objects that marked the expanse of her near nine decades, and finally, and in particular, taking great care, she would dust and clean the frames into which were the photos that adorned her walls and testified of the legacy she and her husband had created.

Mary took great pride in not only her past but in her children, grandchildren, and now many great grandchildren.  It was impossible not to see their pictures in every corner of the house, shrines to what was holy to her.  Such reminders made her happy.  They reminded her how truly rich she was.  The thought of such an expanding family made her smile.

Twice weekly Mary would have what she called her “outing”.  She would carefully place her hat firmly on her head so as not to suddenly blow away, then take cane in hand, and walk very slowly to the local market just two blocks away.  It was a family owned business, not one of those impersonal “supermarkets” where no one knew your name, she would explain. 

All along the route it was the same.  They all knew Mary.  She passed the old pharmacy with an ice cream fountain behind a shiny stainless steel bar right out of the 40’s with milk shakes still made by hand one at a time.  There was a small clothing store whose owner came to the door just to greet Mary as she walked by.  Then there was a small open café where even the customers would echo in chorus with the workers a “hello Mary” as she walked by.  It really wasn’t important how long her outing took, that wasn’t the point.  It was the people and their respect for the gentle lady, who always seemed to smile, that made a difference in her life.

          The legacy of Mary was so large that over the last several years as Mary’s health began to fail as a natural consequence of her age, a granddaughter or grandson would have the honor of accompanying her on her outing.  It would have been easy to have just loaded her into an SUV and driven the distance, but that wasn’t the point and everyone accepted that. She loved the attention and did her best to dress for the occasion.

Lately Mary had stopped making the trip and had just taken it easy.  Her family was a bit worried about her.  She still insisted on living alone.  It was her choice.  They, never-the-less, were afraid she might fall and injure herself and not be able to call for help. There was always a grandson, or even a great grandson available to cut the lawn and take out the trash. That much she would allow but not the roses.  They were what gave her a sense of autonomy and left her with just the right amount of pride to keep her content.  When people complimented the appearance of the roses she wanted them to know that it was because “she” was the one who tended them.  No one would dream of taking that from her. To all it was plain that she loved her roses.

One day Mary ventured into the basement of her old house.  She did not go down there very much anymore because of the steps.  It was also a hard reminder to her as the basement was filled with tools and things that her husband had left behind.  It was as though she could sense his presence there more than any other part of the house.  It truly saddened her. It also, at the same time, filled her joyfully with his memory.  Unless there was a good reason she just didn’t go into the basement any more.  There was also the very real risk of falling down the stairs.  Her doctor had also warned her about her heart. 

“So much fuss over nothing,” she would say.

Today Mary had a very good reason to go down into the basement.  It was Wednesday afternoon about the same time that she was to go on her outing.  She knew that her granddaughter Sophie would be coming over to help her.  She also knew that Sophie was working on a project that involved piecing together some kind of presentation on her computer about the family and she needed some old photos to represent the family history.  Mary knew just where a box or two of the pictures were, but they were in the basement.  Only for Sophie, she promised herself.

Mary didn’t think she could carry the heavy boxes up the stairs but she could at least have a look to see what was there.  She opened the door down to the basement and flipped on the lights.  It was an old home with an old electrical system.  The switch gave the nearly lost “click” as it engaged. A single light bulb illuminated the path all the way down to the basement.  The stairs seemed deeper than she had remembered. 

Mary began a sort of rhythm as she gingerly lowered herself down each step using her cane to steady the next step and taking on only one step at a time.  In her early years she was known as a rebel, always taking chances, blazing the trail.  Her solo trip to the basement proved she hadn’t changed.  Even in the strong likelihood that Sophie would be upset with her for not waiting for help, Mary couldn’t wait to strike out on her own.  About half way down the stairs she stopped and for just a moment couldn’t for the life of her remember why she was going into the basement in the first place. The moment passed and she remembered Sophie.  She smiled.  “Old age gotcha Mary?” She chuckled a bit as she offered her admission.

What would have been accomplished in a few leaps and bounds, had now become an arduous journey.  What was I thinking?  Mary began looking for the light switch at the bottom of the stairs.  For the moment the entire basement, save the finger light that carved a path from the stairs, lay in darkness.  Complete darkness.  She felt along the interior of the wall just inside the doorway.  She knew the light switch was close by. “Now where is that light?” she asked as she continued to feel up and down the wall.  Then she found it. “Oh, there it is.” 

          The darkness instantly vanished to reveal a basement filled with boxes.  To one side she could see the work bench where her husband had made half the furniture in their house.  She walked over to the bench and looked longingly at the tools that had gathered dust.  “It’s just a shame,” she whispered as she picked up a hammer. The wood surface of the bench showed years of use worn with many scars.  She set down the hammer as she noticed the solid metal vice that was attached securely to the table.  She absently turned the handle of the vice and became lost in some memory. 

Mary remembered fondly when she had helped her husband by turning that very same vice and securing a piece of wood he was working on.  She looked around the room and noticed a detached wooden shelf that leaned precariously against a brick wall. It was covered with boxes of different sizes, some of which did not seem to fit very well and hung over the side of the shelf.  A few even looked as though it would not take much to make them fall.

Most of the boxes had lids and a panel on the side containing a written record of what was inside. The light was not strong enough to reveal to Mary’s eyes what exactly was contained in each. She would just have to investigate.  She opened a box and began looking at the contents. 

“Now let’s see what we have here.”  She carefully withdrew a picture of herself as a young girl.  Looks like Sophie, she thought to herself as she smiled noting the resemblance that reached across the generations. To free up both of her hands she placed her cane against the wall next to the shelves. 

 Mary was content.  She loved to sort through such things.  These were treasures to her to be sure.  She called the practice of going through the many boxes her “archeological dig” and it brought to life all that she had lived by taking her back through her own history, a living history made real by the precious memories invoked by her photos and pictures. Memories became reality if only for a moment. It always brought a smile to her face and a tear to her cheek.  It was wonderful.  As she continued through the box she could hear her granddaughter upstairs. 

 “I’m in the basement Sophie!” she shouted.

  The loud sound of Sophie’s steps as she hurried down the stairs made it clear that there was soon to be a lecture.

 “Grandma! I told you not to come down the stairs by yourself. You could have fallen and then what?”  There was certain insincerity in her chastisement.  Sophie loved her grandma and saw her as a real hero in her life.  She couldn’t blame her for coming down stairs right away.  She had also inherited her grandmother’s passion for sorting.

“I know I should have …”

Sophie didn’t let her finish, “So what did the ‘dig’ turn up this time?”

Mary smiled, “There’s so many memories down here.”

“I know, Grandma.”

Sophie moved towards the stack of boxes lined up against the brick wall. Mary followed and pointing in Sophie’s general direction said, “I think I know what you are looking for and where to find it.”

Mary then walked past her granddaughter over to the other side of the room, where a small table leaned up against the wall. “It’s right over here in these boxes, my dear.”

The wall had been constructed with bricks and the bricks were very old. Some of the mortar between the bricks had even begun to give way and there were cracks. On top of the small table was a bookshelf. On the other side of the bookshelf there could be seen cracks in the mortar between the bricks. Some spaces didn’t even appear to have any mortar.

“I think it was over on the shelf,” said Mary pointing to a box near the bottom of the stack.

Sophie was both excited and a bit confused. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“There is a box down here that holds a lot of pictures that I think you’ll be able to use.” Mary reached under the shelf that was just above the table and pull at the box. “It’s this one I am pretty sure.”

The box was now in a position where Sophie could see it clearly. She moved a few smaller boxes obstructing her view and asked, “What do you have here?”

By then Sophie’s curiosity was more than she could hold back. The box was quickly dislodged from its hiding place.  It was then that Mary noticed something behind where the box had been, something that seemed to pierce the darkness and yet was so dull it did not appear like anything of particular interest.  Then there it was again.  A flash of light, and yet …no it was not the source, but it was a reflection. Something was behind the bricks.  Some of the cracks weren’t really cracks.  Tiny holes revealed something behind them. Without too great an effort by Sophie the aging bricks began to fall from the weakened spot due to the failed condition of the mortar and the natural run of the holes whose purpose she could not imagine. 

Sophie pulled the box of pictures completely off the shelf so she could get a better view. At first it really didn’t seem to be much. She thought it was just the crack in the mortar between bricks that somehow caught the light from the ceiling above. But then she noticed as she moved from side to side there was a definite reflection flashing through the holes and crack.  Mary anxiously watched from behind. Her old eyes strained to see more clearly what they had inadvertently found.  She lowered her face down to a level where she could see a little better.

“What is it?” Mary asked honestly without a clue.

“I’m not sure exactly. But it appears to me that there’s something definitely back there.”

It was then that Sophie moved a few more items out of the way so she could clearly see that there was in fact something shining behind the bricks. This seemed rather unusual to both of them. Another pull and the whole wall seemed to be loose.

In her own typical fashion, Mary, when confronted in such a situation, took the offensive and in spite of her age with determination brandished her cane attempting to pry away one of the bricks.  To the astonishment of both the brick fell with surprising ease. It made a loud thud as it hit the floor. Mary did not seem in the least bit concerned.  It was obvious what her objective was.  Something long hidden was about to be revealed.

Mary motioned Sophie to step back.  Before she could object Mary took a full swing with her cane and several bricks popped loose.

“See if you can move them out of the way,” instructed Mary as she indicated with the point of her now slightly bent cane which bricks to move.

“Be careful,” added Sophie who wasn’t sure that this was the right thing to do.

“Let me give it a little poke,” said Mary undaunted as she prodded the open space with a screwdriver she picked up. “What great fun!” There was near laughter in her voice.

Suddenly there was a clinking sound like that when mental hits glass.

“Careful grandma, what is that?”

“I’m not sure but I’m going to find out. Let me see if I can move this last brick a little more.” Mary exerted little effort bringing leverage on a point at which the brick suddenly moved.  “I think it’s coming out,” said Mary with considerable anxiety in her voice.

“Let me do that.”  Sophie gently moved Mary back out of the way and reached inside the edge of the brick and it gave way. With that she was able to pull the last brick out and now without further obstruction they could see through the opening at what appeared to be something glass. 

Sophie reached over to her grandpa’s old bench and found a large flash light, the kind made of metal with a long handle.  She shined the beam into the hole and through the dust. They were both surprised at what they saw. 

“They appeared to be jars and they look like they are filled with something,” reported Sophie. The light gave a much clearer view. “Grandma!  It appears to be money! The jars are filled with money!” 

“What! How can this be?” said Mary as the shock was just beginning to set in.

Sophie pulled the jar out carefully and set it on the small table in front of them. She then carefully removed the lid off of the jar. She reached inside and pulled out a tightly wound wad of money. She noticed that there was a note wrapped around the last bill. She carefully pulled the note off and began to read aloud.

 

“Dearest Mary;

If you’re reading this it is because you have found what I have been keeping from you for many years. I don’t want you to think that I did it out of any other motive except that I love you so dearly and I wanted to provide for you when I couldn’t anymore. What you’ll find is a sum of money that I have saved over the years from each of my paychecks so that I could provide for you even when I wasn’t there. I felt inspired to do this. I hope you’ll understand and know that I did this not to deprive us but to bless you when I couldn’t be there to help you myself. Our love is eternal and so is our commitment to each other. Not even death can take from me what I feel for you. God bless you sweetheart and I hope that this small token will help you now. Goodbye my love. John, your eternal companion.”

 

The tears began to flow as Sophie finished reading the words to Mary and the reality of this miracle began to set in.

“I just don’t believe it,” said Mary through her sobs.

“I do! I do! Grandma because that’s just of the very thing the grandpa would’ve done.”

Sophie gave Mary a hug.  It was then that both women looked to the spot where the jar had come out and noticed that there was some darkness there. Sophie trained the flashlight into the hole and to her surprise there were more jars.  Many more jars.

“Oh my.” Mary said as she looked on in astonishment.

“Grandma, this is so cool.”

As the light shined inside the cavity they could see numerous jars also filled with money. They laughed as they began to remove the jars one by one and place them on the table. While Sophie pulled out more jars from the wall, Mary began opening those that had accumulated on the table.  It was easy to see that there was a great deal of money as they began to count it.

Sophie made an assessment, “Grandma I think that there is a lot more to this than even what we see. Look at this. I found one bill that is so old that it is a silver certificate. They haven’t printed those in a very long time. In fact it’s worth more than the amount printed on it.”

“How could he do this?”  Mary was becoming concerned. In her entire life she had never seen so much money.

“I think we have several thousand dollars here, grandma.  I think we need to get this to the bank.”

“I think you’re right,” said Mary as she stopped trying to count.

Sophie saw her grandmother’s concern and that her hands had not stopped shaking.  I need to calm her down.  “I will help you count it and then I think we should take it down to the bank and deposited it into your account.”

“Thank you Sophie. I’m so glad that you’re here.”

          The two women spent more than an hour counting the money which came up to more than $22,000. There were many bills that were silver certificates and they weren’t sure exactly what to do with those. They decided to put the money into a backpack and take it down to the bank immediately. Sophie would take grandma in her car this time rather than walk the two blocks to the bank. It just didn’t seem safe.

            “Grandma let me help you upstairs. We can take my car.”

            Mary did not resist.  “I think that would be best.”

            Mary was by now filled with emotion at her husband’s last gesture of affection. “I just can’t believe that he would do this. I am so happy that he has because it shows me that he still loves me.”

          Sophie took the bag of money up the stairs as she carefully lead Mary behind her.  Mary stopped for a moment to look back into the basement at the work tables and the many memories that came back into her mind about her husband and the time that they had spent together. The decades they had shared.

          “Thank you John,” she whispered.

          They walked out the front of Grandma’s house and down the three steps to the where Sophie was parked. It took only a few moments to arrive at the bank. Mary held tightly onto the backpack filled with money in her lap as they approached. Sophie got out of the car first and went to Mary’s side to open her door and then gently helped her grandmother out of the SUV. She then helped her walk the short distance to the front door of the bank. As they were about to enter Mary stopped Sophie for a moment holding her arm and looked into her eyes.

          “Thank you for being there for me Sophie.” There were tears in Mary’s eyes.

          “I am so happy for you grandma. This is truly a miracle.”  

          Sophie knew that the money did not mean as much to Grandma as the sentiment with which it was given.  It was a last offering that so defined her grandparents.   She knew the look that was now in Mary’s eyes.  It was a look she had not seen in far too many years. 

          Sophie also knew that Grandma needed an operation and that she would have never asked her children or grandchildren for that kind of help. In her mind, because of her age, and because of the long period of time that she had been away from grandpa, she had decided that perhaps it was time for her to rejoin her eternal companion. So much fuss over her because of her bad heart, she would have no more of it, especially now that she had the means to maybe take care of the problem properly, the treatment that they have been trying to get her to have. She still wasn’t so sure that she wanted to have it. At her age she couldn’t imagine the point of it, besides secretly in her heart she really did want to be with grandpa again.

          “I know that you are wise Sophie and wouldn’t do anything foolish so I believe that your advice to put this in the bank is the best idea.” She trusted Sophie.  The bank was another thing entirely.

          “Of course it is,” assured Sophie.

          They walked into the bank and up to the nearest teller. She was a young lady who recognized Mary immediately and met her with kind words.

          “Mary, it is very good to see you today. I see you brought your granddaughter with you. Hi,Sophie.”

          “Yes I did and we have a very special occasion today.”

          “Oh really what is it?”

Mary almost couldn’t contain herself and began to chuckle a bit out loud. At the sight of Mary the teller began to smile.  She had known Mary for years and knew that she had a pleasant personality. However, she could not begin to imagine why Mary was so happy.

Sophie started to search for a reason for the humor in coming to the bank. “Grandma has something to deposit that I think is going to cause quite a stir today.”

“Oh really?” said the teller intrigued.

“Yes. She has inside this bag a great deal of money that was left to her by her late husband.”

Mary smiled and continued the explanation. “My husband felt inspired to leave me some money which he had hidden in my basement and we just found it today. I could not even have imagined that he would’ve done such a thing, but I am so happy.”

“Well, let’s see what you have.”

As she put the bag on the counter Mary could not erase from her mind the thought of the just over $22,000 about to be poured out on the counter.  She waited anxiously to see the teller’s reaction.  As she pulled the money out it attracted the attention of the assistant manger and other officers of the bank. Soon even some of the other tellers came to stare at what was happening. The excitement was contagious. What happened seemed to be in slow motion as Mary and Sophie just emptied the bag out and pushed the money over to the teller so that she could properly count it. 

The bank manger suddenly appeared at the sight of the money.  Something Mary thought ironic, even funny.  Carefully, methodically, bills were stacked and restacked, counted and recounted.  The manger himself did the final count.

“Mary, you have a grand total of $22,231.  Would you like that in savings or checking?”

“Savings would be fine.”

Special attention:  In an effort to tell my story and to spread the word about how targeting has impacted on freedom in this country, it is imperative that this story reach the masses, and in order to do that I need your help.  Please forward this story on to as many others as you can.   My following is now approaching 5,700 but the possibilities are only now beginning to be felt.  The one thing that keeps targeting in check is public opinion.  There truly is power in the People.  Please help by spreading the word. Thanks Paul. [email protected]