March 2009

            "Grandpa, Grandpa.  Are you in here?  Her voice echoed in the hall because Mother had removed the heavy drapes to clean them.  She stuck her head in the doorway to the parlor.

            "Grandpa, Grandpa."

            "Right over here, Marion.  Right here."

            "What are you doing down there on the floor?"

            "Your mother asked me to tune-up her spinning wheel and add a bit of oil, so it will run easier."

            "Oh, I see."

            "What did you want, Marion?"

            "I was going to ask you to play dominoes with me."

            "Say, that's a great idea, especially on a cloudy, damp afternoon like this one.  Where are your brothers and sisters?"

            "Well, Lily is taking her regular two-year old, afternoon nap.  Ben, John and Luke are with Father in the barn.  Doris and Ella are out in the kitchen baking cookies with Mother."

            "So.....that leaves you here with me to have a rousing game of dominoes."

            "Will you play Grandpa?"

            "Sure I will.  Let me put these tools away while you get the dominoes."

            "Where are they?"

            "The last time I saw them they were on the top shelf next to the fireplace."

            Grandpa carefully stood up.  His left knee was quite painful from being kicked by the new stallion.  He grabbed the back of the rocking chair to steady himself as Marion went across the room to the fireplace to get the box of dominoes.  She stood on her tiptoes and stretched her right arm until her shoulder began to hurt.  The tips of her fingers touched the box. She stretched a bit more to be able to get the box in her hands.  She grabbed.  The box cam tumbling down with dominoes spread all over the floor.

            "Oh Grandpa. Please come and help me.  Look!  I spilled the dominoes all over the floor."

            Slowly Grandpa limped across the room.

            "What is this that also fell down, right on top of the dominoes?"

            Marion bent over as she questioned Grandpa.

            "It's a letter to somebody or a story somebody wrote.  Look!  Do you know what it is Grandpa?"

            Grandpa held the papers close to his nose.  He had his glasses in his pocket.

            "What is it Grandpa, a letter or a story?"  What is it?"

            Grandpa pulled out his glasses, put them up on his nose, looked carefully at the papers and scowled a bit.

            "Grandpa.  Come on.  Tell me.  What are those papers in your hand?"

            Grandpa looked down again and then he smiled.  "Do you want to know what's on these papers, or do you want to play dominoes?"

            "The papers!  The papers, Grandpa, please."

            "All right.  Come on.  You sit in your father's rocker and I'll sit in mine and we will find out what is on these papers."

            Marion came over, pulled the rocker close to grandpa's and looked up expectantly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

            Grandpa moved around a bit to get comfortable in his rocker.

            "All right, Marion, I'll read this first part to you."

            "On January 21, 1826, John Bolton succeeded Mr. Hone as President of the Company.  Orphaned at an early age, John Bolton, before he was fourteen, had shown enough initiative materially to assist in selecting permanent guardian, and to convince the court, by his own account of previous unfair treatment, that his original guardian, judicially appointed, had failed in his trust.  Leaving Philadelphia this way and transferring himself to the protection of a cousin in Savannah, his youth was passed in the South.  Later he got a job as treasurer of the company when it was first organized.  Mr. Bolton came to the Presidency with experience in the care and handling of funds."

            "Grandpa, I don't even know what all those words mean.  You know I am 9 years old, well......almost 10, but those words are too hard for me."

            "Yes, Yes.  I am fully aware of that, but the solution is simple."

            "What do you mean?  How can I know all those big words?"

            "I'll tell you just what those words say, just what they mean."

            "Oh good, Grandpa, I never thought of that. All right.  I'm leaning back on the nice, soft pillow Mother made for father's rocker/  I'm all ready.  One, two, three, go!"

            Grandfather laughed, leaned back comfortably in his chair and said "Fine, I'll push my start button."

            Now it was Marion's turn to laugh.

            "Well, you already know that Mr. Bolton is now President of the Company.  When Mr. Jervis, I mean, John B., mentioned that, when he was here last Wednesday, you heard what he said, didn't you?"

            "Yes, I remember that Grandpa.  But tell me now what all those words say about Mr. Bolton."

            Grandfather had the papers on his lap, but never looked at them.

            "Well......Mr. Bolton had a sad childhood.   Both his mother and his father died when he was very young.  While he was still young, he told a judge in court that he had been badly treated by the first people with whom he lived.  The judge allowed him to choose the people with whom he would live permanently in Savannah, Georgia.  When he was older he got a job as treasurer of the Delaware and Hudson Canal Company.  And on January 21, 1826, Mr. Hone resigned as President of the Company to take a job as Mayor of New York City.  The managers looked around for a new President of the Delaware and Hudson Canal Co.  Sitting right there in front of them was a man who had been Treasurer from the time the Company started.  He had done a very good job taking care of the Company's money, so......they tapped him on the shoulder and from that day, January 21, 1826, they had a new President, whose name was John Bolton."

            "Oh thank you, grandfather.  That was a nice story.  Now, I know what happened.  Thank you.  Mr. Bolton must have been a good worker."

            "He was.  He certainly was.  He kept right on working as the President of the Delaware and Hudson Canal Company.  When the canal was finished it was 108 miles long, about 32 feet wide and 4 feet deep.  Many citizens were very happy to have the coal from Pennsylvania brought up to them on the pocket boats so they could heat their homes."

            "But Grandfather, we can burn wood from our own trees in our fireplaces to heat our houses."

            "That's right, Marion, but people who live in cities do not have trees on their property, the way we do."

            "Oh yes.  I forgot about that.  What happened then?"

            "Well, this is a long story and my legs are getting stiff."

            His face was contorted with pain as he stood up. He actually had to use his hands and pull his leg out straight before he could take a step.

            "Marion, before I go out to put some liniment on my sore leg, I must tell you there was one more sentence on that paragraph, but I did not read that last one to you."

            "Grandfather, why not?"

            Her face was a most puzzled expression, but she had put her hand firmly on his hip, perhaps to show Grandfather she was a bit offended, or maybe disgusted, by his omission.

            "Well.......that last sentence tells us that there was no exact date given for the managers' determination to build the final link in the transportation picture."

            "Do you know what that link was, Grandfather?"  Come on.  Tell me!  Please, Grandfather, please."

            "Marion, the very next time we have a cloudy, cool, damp day, we will pull our rockers together, lean back on our comfortable pillow and talk about this wonderful, exciting 'next link' in our transportation story - a link which will be so very important in your young life and equally important every day, for the rest of your life."