Freedom's Freehold: The Rocheport Saga, #6

Saturday, 12 March 5 ATD

(The Fifth Year After That Day)

I gave away the bride at seven minutes after two and by two thirty Penny Linton and the Governor of the Republic of Missouri were husband and wife.

Two and a half weeks ago, Schwaller and Hunt, the Governor’s emissaries, made a return visit to Rocheport to inform me the wedding and the alliance of our two states was a go. In exchange for Penny marrying the Governor, Rocheport and the Republic have a mutual defense pact, trade agreements, and, most importantly for me, passage through the Republic to the Old Lead Belt, as the ancient lead producing area of Missouri is called. On the Governor’s part, he gets tariffs on the goods passing through his domain and I’m guessing a secure northern frontier so he can focus his attention on the threat from Fort Leonard Wood to the south. And, let us not forget, the beautiful bride who will occupy his bed and home.

Leaving Harry Wirtz, the President of the Advisory Council, in charge of Rocheport, my family and thirteen others made the two day trip to Jefferson City. We went by buggy and horseback. No steam cars. I want to keep those a secret for as long as I can. Along with our artillery. In my opinion, the less the Governor knows about us the better.

We arrived in Jeff City Thursday afternoon. Yesterday, Sally, my beautiful wife, spent the day with Penny preparing for the wedding. A couple years ago Penny left Conrad Flinders’ commune and group marriage and became our permanent houseguest. She’s like a sister now to Sally and I. Our kids even call her Aunt Penny.

We were treated to a real church wedding, complete with an organ playing the wedding march. After the ceremony, the Governor hosted a fabulous banquet. Conrad Flinders, who along with Christina Pelletini and Franceska Bednarczyk had joined us to show they harbored no ill will towards Penny for leaving, supplied a hundred pounds of vegetables from his greenhouses. Jerry Wirtz, who also made the trip with us, supplied a pig for the sumptuous feast.

I’m not one for parties. Big gatherings of any kind, actually. After a couple hours of rubbing elbows with at least a couple hundred people, I’d had enough and left the festivities to go for a walk. Once away from the hall where the wedding reception was taking place, I took out my pipe, filled it, lit it, and puffed away while taking in the decaying grandeur that is Jefferson City.

The Missouri River wasn’t far from where the festivities were held and after a time I walked over to the river. The sky was clear, the sun shining, and the temperature was seventy degrees. The wind was a little breezy; otherwise, the day was perfect for a wedding.

I looked out over Big Muddy and thought of home. We had three births last month. Rain Wrodkowski gave birth to a girl, Sonya Renae. Her sister, Raine,  also gave birth to a girl, Skylark Oriel. Andy is strutting like a peacock and with three wives and five kids I suppose he has a certain right to do so. The third child was a boy, Phineas James Banks, born to Steve and Rachel.

On the political end, things have been quiet. With the dissolution of the commune, Reverend Powers stopped his obstructionist ways. I’m not naive. He still wants to run Rocheport according to his understanding of Christianity. With no commune, he lost his safety net. In order for his group to survive he and they now need to cooperate with others to make up for their lack of knowledge. So he cooperates and most likely continues to plan how he can take over.

My pipe smoked out, I decided to head back to the festivities. Last night, Sally told me Penny seems content. The few weeks she’s had to get to know the Governor have put to rest any fears she had. In her words, He’s a man with a big heart. He’ll take care of me and April. I hope she’s right.

Her marriage to the Governor still seems to me a very high price to pay to pacify a potential enemy and gain us access to supplies of lead, zinc, barium, and other precious minerals. But if she is happy, truly happy, then the arrangement is a good one for all parties concerned. Only the future will tell us if we were wise or not.

Sunday, 13 March 5 ATD

Extract from the diary of Steven Crane:

After church, I met with Austin Jaynes and Sam Hildebrandt. I told them now that the Governor has married the smelly hippy Arthur took in and formed an alliance with Rocheport, the Governor would be greatly benefited if someone more in tune with his thinking was in control of the city.

Hildebrandt asked, How are we going to get rid of Arthur?

At that Jaynes smiled. I think, Sam, the time has come for us to quit screwing around. All this political crap. It’s gotten us nowhere.

Hildebrandt scratched his head. I don’t like him anymore than you do, Austin, but you still didn’t answer the question. How do we get rid of him?

Jaynes’ tone of voice was the one he’d use to talk to a child. Very simple, Sam. We kill him, the Wirtz brothers, and that skinny bitch, Zibby. With them out of the way, we simply take over.

While I liked the thought, I have to admit I found the idea repulsive. Austin, you’re talking murder. We’re Christians.

Jaynes held up a finger. Jael killed Sisera. Samson pulled the building down on the pagans. God told the Israelites to kill all the inhabitants of the Promised Land. We will not be committing murder. We will be doing what the righteous have always done and should do — kill the unrighteous.

I saw his point and nodded in agreement. Hildebrandt, not a God-fearing man, was hesitant.

Jaynes said, Think about it, Sam. Arthur himself used force against you. How can you forget that time he was denying us food and then attacked us when we protested his unfair treatment? You got walloped a good one and he might have even killed you if he thought he could’ve gotten away with it. You’d just be giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Hildebrandt thought for awhile and finally nodded in agreement.

Tuesday, 15 March 5 ATD

We left Jefferson City early yesterday morning and camped last night at the midpoint between our cities. This morning we got up early and were on the road just after daybreak, arriving in Rocheport a little after four this afternoon.

While I was away, Billy-Rae Thornpot and Austin Jaynes formed the Christian Democratic Party. According to an article written by Billy-Rae in last week’s issue of the Rocheport Weekly Register, the purpose of the party is to promote Christian values and democracy in Rocheport.

No mention was made in the article as to who the members of the party were, but, according to Harry Wirtz, the initial members, aside from Billy-Rae and Austin, are Jodell Pendergast, the Cranes, the Drakes, Reverend Powers and his wife, and Noah Totske. The usual suspects in any kind of let’s-change-the-status-quo movement. What that translates to in practice is how can they get rid of me and make Jed Powers the leader.

Thus far no attempt has succeeded. Doesn’t mean the next attempt won’t. However, I’m at the point where I don’t care overly much. Being leader of this group of people is highly overrated. I also have more important things to do then worry about Billy-Rae Thornpot’s machinations to usurp power. It is, though, comforting to know some things don’t change.

Thursday, 17 March 5 ATD

Another birth today: Polly Molly Ray Fisk, born to Deb Ray and Michael Fisk. Sally and I gave the proud parents our congratulations.

Ran into Peter Schmidt while I was out and about. I asked him how he was doing and he said everything was fine.

In addition he told me in his words, Just finished signing a contract to form a cooperative between Jerry, Harry, Rhonda Kinsey, Cassie Smith, Geetha, and myself. We’re calling it the Rocheport Farming Cooperative.

I assume you’re officially joining together the operations of the Wirtz and Smith farms, I said.

Yes. Harry and Jerry are planning for their eventual retirement. They want to make sure the land stays more or less in the family. The members will share in the profits.

You plan on adding any new people?

Don’t know. Mert and Emma will be added when they and Cassie get married. Otherwise, I think Harry and Jerry want to play it by ear.

Peter’s news is the kind of news I like to hear. People moving forward. People making something out of their lives. People creating a future. And when I think of Polly Molly and Peter and Geetha’s children, my own children, and all the other children who will one day be standing here in the place of Peter and me and every other adult alive today, I see that Rocheport is a freehold of freedom to be passed on to our descendants forever.

Thursday, 31 March 5 ATD

Eldon Sparks, the former mayor of California, Missouri, formed the Boone Coal and Mining Company and this past Monday moved to the area in north Columbia known as Browns Station. Moving with him were all but three of the refugees from California, plus Javon Wilson, Helen Yer, Wallace Durkett, and Alex Bern. Sixteen people in all are going to see if they can’t strike it rich with black gold. The solid kind.

Edward Jenkins decided not to pursue the black gold. He instead joined Conrad Flinders’ commune. His woodworking business will be a big help to Conrad. Joyce Weller and Amy Sanchez were the other two who stayed behind. Joyce said she was too old to work in a coal mine and wanted Amy to get an education.

Browns Station is an outpost of Rocheport. At some point we may make the village a colony and thereby give Mayor Sparks and his people a bit of autonomy, provided of course, they find coal. If they don’t, they’ll be coming back to Rocheport.

The Boone Coal and Mining Company is organized as a cooperative. Everyone works and shares in the profits. If coal is found, Sparks’ first obligation is to meet Rocheport’s needs. After that, he is free to sell the coal to whoever wants it.

Yesterday, I formed Arthur Enterprises. There are two divisions: Rocheport Tobacco and Arthur Airship. Sally and I, at this point, are the sole owners. In the future, if I need more capital, I’ll probably turn the company into a stock company by taking on shareholders. That, though, is a long ways off in the future.

The best news of all, however, came today. The birth of Sorrel Amanda Kinsey-Wirtz to the Reverend Rhonda Kinsey and Harry Wirtz. All three are doing well, not that Harry had much to do except worry. And with Rhonda in her forties, I guess he did have something to worry about. Sally and I visited and gave them our congratulations.

The city is physically and economically growing. I can’t ask for more. Five years ago this place was a ghost town. Now it is thriving. And I intend to keep things that way.

Saturday, 30 April 5 ATD

April proved to be a busy month and one in which our friend Murphy and his doggone law seemed to be working overtime.

Sparks began digging two shafts in open ground to the west of Browns Station. The warming weather aided his progress until the rains hit. Water began to collect and pumps were needed to get the water out.

The rains also caused flooding in the low-lying sections of the city. No major damage. There are no houses in those areas. The water was more of a nuisance than anything.

Looters were another problem we had. A gang of nine hit the Rocheport Farming Cooperative. Specifically, Jerry Wirtz’s farm. The gang managed to rustle a cow, although they did pay for the beast in a manner of speaking. They left behind four of their number. We burned the bodies.

Another gang of one to two dozen attacked Browns Station. Sparks fought them off twice. After the second attack, we sent a half dozen reinforcements and a cannon. When they attacked a third time, a load of double canister at point blank range ended the problem.

Mother Nature and looters. And while we ended the looter problem, Mother Nature wasn’t done with us. Apparently, she didn’t think the rain was enough. So she sent a tornado our way. The thing took out the fence along the north side of the city and demolished Tower One. Lucky for Javad Ghorbani, he saw it coming, sounded the alarm, and abandoned the tower.

Rather than replace the fence, I decided to put in a palisade wall. With a concerted effort by the entire city, the project took us six days. The tower is being rebuilt and should be done in another few days. One consolation is that spring planting isn’t in full-swing yet. Consequently, there were plenty of people available. The city paid four credits a day. That’s a half-credit per hour. The other half was marked down to their obligation to the defense of the city. The move didn’t win me any friends, even though I pointed out that under the commune no one would have been paid and now everyone owes a duty to the defense of the city.

As expected, the biggest group of rabble-rousers were the members and supporters of the Christian Democratic Party. I just told myself I only have a little over three years and then I can pass this headache off to someone else.

While we were putting up the palisade and tower, I decided we might as well lay the foundation for a stone keep on the hill in the northeast corner of the city. Defense is paramount. The keep, when completed, will form our last line of defense should the palisade be breached.

In thinking about the looters, I decided the formation of sniper and marksmen teams would be to our advantage. We are a relatively small community. To make up for our lack of numbers, we need to rely on technology and skill. Supplies of ammunition, primers, casings, bullets, and powder manufactured before That Day are dwindling and in some cases can no longer be found. We are manufacturing breechloading flintlock rifles, which will soon be state of the art. If I can field sniper and marksmen teams that know how to effectively use our Ferguson-pattern rifles, we will have a distinct advantage over any possible enemy.

Most people know little about shooting. They pray and spray. Sending lead willy-nilly downrange hoping the gods of war let them hit something. Once the ammunition for automatic and semi-automatic weapons is gone, our enemies will be at a distinct disadvantage. That’s when our blackpowder rifles will come into their own.

Aside from offensive and defensive capabilities, the looters got me thinking about trade. Producing items and trading them with other cities for things we don’t have. A trade agreement is in place with Marshall for salt. There are a few other towns out there, that we know of, producing things. We need to establish a trade network with them and seek out other cities that are either producing products or could be if they had the encouragement. The Old Lead Belt is a prime example. Lots of valuable minerals there and yet the communities in the region are doing little to exploit their advantage. They need encouragement to mine the ore and trade it to other cities. Trade is truly the main key to a prosperous future. To that end, I formed the Rocheport Trade Association. It is a collective of fourteen merchants and industries in Rocheport and, by operating together, we will get top dollar, so to speak, for our goods.

Someday a league of cities will be connected by trade and that league will be an economic powerhouse and I fully intend Rocheport to be the leader and chief city. And the Rocheport Trade Association will be the organization that will make Rocheport the leader and chief city.

Sally says I think too much. Worry about the future too much. Even Mert and Mel, my adopted children, think I’m a bit paranoid at times. Zibby, my other adopted child, doesn’t. She thinks like a leader. Already she carries on her shoulders the burden of the city. She feels the responsibility I feel for everyone’s welfare. If I go down in the annals of our city, God forbid, as Father Bill, she’ll be Mother Zibby.

For the most part, I do try to live in the moment. However a leader must have a vision. A leader cannot just sit in the moment. He or she must also dream about the future and what it will be like for his or her people.

I want the best of futures for these people I’m responsible for. And to my mind, the best of all possible futures is a restoration of all the wonderful technology we had before That Day and for us to progress to the point where we consistently live by the Golden Rule.

Monday, 2 May 5 ATD

This afternoon a surprise guest arrived. We had no warning whatsoever. Her name is Opal Ann Dampeer. The papers she had with her identified her as the Governor’s ambassador to Rocheport. Her entourage included her secretary, Henry Bondurant, and two guards.

I gave her the old Briggs Pond House for her embassy and residence.