Posts tagged ‘mental-health’
NEWARK RIOTS
A scar on my memory
It was a summer morning in 1967. The buses were running late, and I soon found out why. I think it was the lack of knowledge I had that morning that, helped in part, to make me the news junkie I am today.
I was in college now, and had two summer jobs, I still had my job at the newsstand working my usual Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights, and I had started a new job. With a strong interest in science, I am studying biochemistry in college and wanted to find a job where I could gain some kind of practical laboratory training. I wrote to all the hospitals I could think of in the Newark area and asked if there was a lab job available. To my great surprise I got a positive reply from Presbyterian Hospital and an offer to work in their hospital laboratory. I found out after I had started the job that most of the summer positions went to doctor’s children and at the last moment someone decided that the job was not for them, and I guess my letter must have shown up at just the right time.
When I reported for work at Presbyterian Hospital to begin my summer job, I was shown into one of many small rooms that made up the hospital laboratory and was giver the job of dipping urinalysis sticks into urine samples and told that someday I might be able to spin down the urine and look at it under the microscope. This was not the exciting summer job that would bring me the lab experience that I had hoped to gain. But beggars can’t be choosers, so I decided to stick it out for the summer. After a few days of dipping into urine, someone came around the lab and asked for volunteers to go across the street and work in the Children’s Hospital that was affiliated with Presbyterian. I figured that the job could not get more boring than what I was doing now so off I went.
After I had volunteered, people around me told me that I had made a major mistake and that soon I would see the error of my ways. So, the next day I showed up for work at Children’s Hospital and asked for directions to the lab. When I found it, I was greeted not by a huge anonymous operation, but a rather small room with just a bench for each area such as urinalysis, hematology and blood chemistry. The hospital was fairly small so I should have anticipated this but, of course, I didn’t. But I did find out why I had been discouraged from coming to this lab. For there was no place to hide and you really had to work.
With a little training, I went from dipping urinalysis sticks to doing all the complete urinalysis for the hospital every day, making out the reports and initialing them. If the doctors only knew who W.T. was would they have been surprised. After I was done with the urine, I would drift over to blood chemistry and with some training was soon reporting results from that bench. I was having a ball. And as the summer progressed and some of the technicians went on vacation, I was covering all the urinalysis and blood chemistry. This was also before the days of strict laboratory practices when dealing with human samples. I was mouth pipetting human serum and plasma with what are now old-fashioned glass pipettes and of course wore no gloves but I had a great time and felt I really contributed something because they were so short-staffed.
I began my workday at the hospital laboratory at 8 o’clock in the morning, worked till about four then went home, had something to eat and worked at the newsstand from 6 to 11 P.M. I awoke one morning when I knew I would be working both jobs and got ready to go to work at the hospital. My main task was to have some breakfast and get to the bus stop on time; I seldom had time for the news. The buses usually ran fairly regularly, but for some reason today the bus was late – very late. Finally, when I did see the bus coming, my bus was part of a convoy of about four buses. So I got on, found a seat and was ready for the usual thirty-to-forty-minute ride to work, but this ride would be different than any ride to work that I had had before.
As I rode past the intersection of Broad & Market Streets, and past the newsstand where I was to work that night, I could see flames rolling out of the storefronts of some of the nearby businesses. The streets were crowded with fire engines and police cars. There also seemed to be more activity than normal on the streets.
Once I made it to the hospital, I found out what was going on, riots had broken out in Newark, starting the night before in the downtown area. All that day I could look down on the street from the lab window and see convoys of state police cars and jeeps with mounted and manned machine guns, a truly eerie sight to witness in your hometown. During the workday, I called my boss at the newsstand and asked if he was going to stay open that night. At first he said he would but later changed his mind, much to my relief. I think that in all the years I worked there, this was the first time the newsstand had been closed without there being a major snowstorm.
That afternoon, instead of catching the bus home, my cousins called and asked if I would want to be picked up after work and that sounded pretty good to me. While riding home, you saw sandbag emplacements with machine guns in the middle of the downtown area. The city had changed – scarred forever. Anger that had long been buried rose into full view. I also found out the next day that a man had been shot and killed at my bus stop.
The nights in the Down Neck section were quiet for the next few days due to the curfew in effect for all of Newark. Our area of the city, being far from the riots, was like a ghost town. There was no activity on the streets at all.
I have not revisited the area of the riots for years, so I have no idea what the area looks like now. I do remember that for years after the riots, once the burned-out homes and stores were torn down, the lots remained vacant, whole city blocks where nothing existed, only the rubble of human folly, anger and injustice. One can only imagine how lives were changed forever on that day when the buses ran late.
ELMO’S INVENTION, CHAPTER 8
ELMO’S INVENTION
CHAPTER 8
TIME MACHINE, BIG NEWS
The following Wednesday Elmo went to work and immediately became aware that something was not quite right. Everyone stared at him as if he had two heads. His usually friendly coworkers were avoiding making eye-contact with him, were uncomfortable to be in the same room as him. Someone finally handed Elmo the latest edition of the Los Alamos Herald, published that morning.
Elmo was shocked at the headline, shouting in huge bold print, Scientist, Elmo Baker Has Invented a Prison that will Change Humanity. He couldn’t believe it. He kept muttering to himself, “They promised not to publish.” He read on and found to his dismay all the details he shared with Nate Bush. How would this change his life? He was sure it would not be for the better; trouble was surely down the road, and he had a feeling the road would not be a long one.
After sitting in his cubicle, he immediately phoned Nate. “You promised not to publish anything about my invention. I trusted you.”
Elmo could hear the guilt in Nate’s voice as he answered, “I wanted to honor my promise, but the managing editor insisted I publish the article. Circulation is down and he wanted something that would catch the readership’s interest. All we ever get to report is the local news, and with the gossip in this town, most people know what we publish before we publish it. This story is big.
“But I trusted you. People at work look at me as if I’m some kind of freak. What are the rest of the people in Los Alamos going to think?”
“Take it easy, Elmo. I’m sure this will blow over in no time at all and everything will return to normal.”
The next day Elmo’s life would change in a big way.
* * *
The Los Alamos rag was read by the locals for local news. Because interest in the paper’s stories appealed to former Los Alamos residents, stories were posted with a wire service. That’s how Elmo’s problems reached a new level.
The Friday morning after the story appeared in The Los Alamos Herald, Elmo and Mildred were sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast. Mildred asked, “Things calmed down in work, Elmo?”
“Things are better now. I explained, to anyone interested, that I discovered the ‘prison’ by mistake, that I’m not really sure that it has any practical purpose and that’s the truth. I can’t picture the thing being used, and Kingsley Dasher hinted that there may be problems down the road even though he was the one who first envisioned the device as a prison. I sure didn’t tell anyone that it was a time machine that I really wanted to invent. I can just imagine the response I would get from that bit of information.”
Elmo was about to continue when the ringing phone interrupted him.
Mildred said, “I’ll get that. Hold your thought.”
Elmo watched as she answered the phone. At first she had a puzzled look on her face, and then her eyebrows knit, and her forehead wrinkled with shock and confusion. She said to the caller, “Yes, Mr. Slattery, this is the residence of Elmo Baker. He’s right here.”
Elmo was puzzled. He didn’t know a Mr. Slatterly.
Mildred held her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “He’s a reporter from The New York Times.”
A film of sweat broke out on Elmo’s forehead. He knew this was going to be trouble. He slowly took the phone from Mildred. “Hello, this is Elmo Baker. How can I help you?”
“Dr. Baker, this is Joe Slatterly from The New York Times, the paper is extremely interested in the wire story published by The Los Alamos Herald. I’d like to come to New Mexico and interview you and take some pictures of your machine. It could change the penal system as we know it. We feel that the public needs to know about your invention.”
Elmo thought about the reaction that the locals had when they read about his invention. He could not imagine what it would be like if the entire country, no wait, the entire world knew about his invention.
Elmo said, “I don’t think I’d be comfortable letting the world know about my invention. The reaction locally was not the best. I’d rather forget about the whole thing.”
“But Elmo. Can I call you Elmo?”
“Sure, Elmo’s fine.”
“You could change society for the better. The convicted could fulfill their debt to society and not experience the degradation and dangers of prison life. There would be less recidivism. Prisoners could get on with their lives without the scars of prison life.”
Elmo began to weaken. “I suppose my machine could serve a benefit to society.”
“I’m sure it would. Have you thought much about patenting and selling it?”
“I do plan to patent it, but after that, I don’t know. I’m just now getting over the shock of how the news was taken around here.”
Slatterly talked fast. He didn’t want to lose Elmo. “Well, an article in The New York Times would certainly provide a great deal of publicity. It might cause some rough spots for you, but it would definitely make the public aware of your device, especially potential customers. And you know what they say. ‘There’s no such thing as bad publicity.’”
Mildred listened to Elmo’s end of the conversation and could tell he was wavering and began to think he would do what the reporter wanted him to do. The gleam in his eyes was beginning to frighten her. See had seen that look too many times before.
After a few more minutes Elmo finished his conversation by saying, “That would be fine, Mr. Slatterly. I’m looking forward to seeing you the day after tomorrow.”
After Elmo hung up Mildred immediately asked, “Elmo, what are you doing? Are you going to talk to that reporter even after how our neighbors and friends reacted after they found out about your machine? How could you?”
Doubt passed over Elmo’s face, but he quickly recovered. “Mil, I could help society, free-up money for uses more important than prisons, like education and medical research.”
“Oh, I see, Elmo. You are going to save the world while we become lepers in our own community.”
“That’s a little harsh, Mil.”
“We’ll see,” Mildred said as she stormed out of the room.
* * *
Two days later The New York Times reporter, along with his photographer, appeared at Elmo’s front door. They called ahead from the airport before they left New York to let Elmo know when he should be expecting them. When the doorbell rang Elmo wanted to get to the front door before Mildred, who had been moody ever since the reporter’s call.
Elmo opened the door and extended his hand to the young smartly dressed man before him. “You must be Joe Slatterly from The New York Times.”
“That’s right, sir. And this is my photographer, Larry Hitchcock. I’ve been looking forward to this interview and seeing your machine.”
Elmo began, “First, call me Elmo. Let’s go down to the cellar. I’ve been planning a demonstration for you.” Elmo led the way to the cellar door and found Mildred standing close to it. She was civil to the two men from The New York Times, Elmo knew she would be. What he feared was how she would react and what she would say after they left.
As the group descended the stairs to Elmo’s laboratory, Elmo said, over his shoulder, “I’ve arranged a little demonstration to show you how my device works.”
Once in the cellar, Larry said, “Look, Joe, an old iron lung. I haven’t seen one of those in years. Elmo, do you collect old medical equipment too?”
Slatterly was in a hurry. He wanted to see the demonstration, talk to Elmo and get out of Hicksville as soon as possible. “So,” Slatterly asked, “where is your machine?”
Elmo pointed to the iron lung, “That’s it, gentlemen. I needed a chamber that would fit a human. Although it may not look like much, what makes this iron lung unique is the electronics I’ve incorporated. Let me show you how it works.”
Walking to a cage at a far wall, Elmo extracted a rat, which he had recently obtained, and returned to the iron lung. He put the rat in the chamber and motioned for Larry to approach. “Larry, you might want to take a ‘before’ photo of the rat.”
“Sure, Elmo.”
Once the photo was taken Elmo said, “I will conduct this experiment in two stages. This rat is about four months old. The lifespan of a rat is about three years. I will first set the time dial to two years and the length of the experiment to one minute.” Elmo pushed the initiate button and said to the men, “Please observe.”
They stepped closer to the chamber and saw that a white mist had enveloped the rat, and then quickly disappeared. The rodent appeared to be slightly bigger than before.
Elmo said, “As you can see, the rat has increased in size. Now I shall set the time dial to twenty years.”
Once again Elmo initiated the sequence and once again the chamber filled with a white mist. As the mist began to clear, Nate and Larry could see the rat shrivel. It became no more than a husk and then collapsed into a mound of dust and bones. Elmo told Larry, “You can take the ‘after’ picture now.”
Joe and Larry were speechless. Both expected this claim, for a device which could serve as a prison, to be the fantasy of some demented scientist, but here was the proof before their eyes. They were truly amazed at what they had witnessed. Larry took the picture but still couldn’t believe what he had seen.
Joe, still mystified at what he had witnessed, asked, “How did you do that, Elmo?”
“Well,” Elmo began, “the science is rather complicated. Let’s just say that the theory and principles behind this device are based, for the most part, on Einstein’s work.” Elmo could not reveal, in reality, that he did not truly understand how it worked and that it was meant to be a time machine.
Joe asked, “So this thing will kill the occupant?”
Elmo was shocked and quickly answered, “Oh no, no. As you witnessed, the first run only aged the rat. I wanted the rat to expire in order to demonstrate that time, in the chamber, had truly advanced. I wasn’t sure if you would believe, with the first experiment, that the rat had aged.
“If a human had been in the chamber he would have aged twenty years in a matter of minutes. His debt to society, paid.”
After a few more questions for Elmo, Joe said, “I guess we’re finished, Elmo. This will make a great story, and the pictures should really open the eyes of the public.”
Elmo felt apprehension with the last comment.
Joe asked, “Elmo, could we get a photo of you standing in front of your machine?”
Elmo hesitated, but finally said, “I guess it would be all right.”
Larry took the picture, and the trio then walked up the stairs out of the cellar. Joe and Larry said their goodbyes and drove away.
As Elmo closed the door he could hear Mildred walk into the room behind him. This was the moment he dreaded.
“Well, Elmo, were those fellas impressed by your machine? Did they get the story they wanted?”
“Yes, dear, I think things went rather well. I demonstrated the device, and they were most impressed.”
Mildred turned and, as she left the room, said with coldness in her voice, “We’ll see what happens when the story comes out. I hope I’m wrong about bad things to come and soon the entire matter just fades away.”
Elmo began to think that this was going better than he had hoped, but that thought was short lived.
ELMO’S SOJOURN
ELMO’S SOJOURN
Elmo’s Sojourn is a novella I wrote awhile ago and was first published by Bewildering Stories in 2007. Since then, it has been published by Mélange Books (no longer publishing) in an anthology, Curious Hearts, and as a stand-alone e-book.
The story involves Elmo, a retired Los Alamos retired scientist who accidentally discovers the ability to travel through space using wormholes. With this new knowledge he travels to a distant planet and discovers an alien civilization with a devastating problem. A problem for which he stumbles upon a solution.
I was checking Google to see what was being done with my published work when I stumbled upon the fact that the first two chapters of the novella has been published in China.
Just now I have also found that Elmo’s Sojourn is still available for sale. I’ve provided a link if anyone is interested.
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/elmos-sojourn-walt-trizna/1118770303
Walttriznastories's Blog 