Back to Section three
13. The Department of Justice of the United States of America requests…
The next morning we went out to breakfast and left for the office in plenty of time for me to meet with Mr. Salmon and some others from the home office before the meeting with the US Attorney. Alice went to explore the shops in the causeway and promised me she wouldn't be bored.
"Oh. Miss Alice." Mr. Salmon said. "I'd like to send Robby something." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "There's a new sports shop down there that has all kinds of stuff for the new baseball team. You think you could find him something he'd like."
She smiled warmly and took the money somewhat reluctantly. "Yes sir, Mr. Salmon. Thank you so much for remembering him."
She left and Shirley closed the door behind them.
We sat there for a moment discussing what the federal government's problem was.
"The impression I got from their call was that they were upset that we did not notify the Feds when you found the Bunker." Mr. Salmon said.
"There is no requirement for Federal notification of something like this on private property. The determination of Federal Interest is made later, after the local authorities investigate the find." The company property attorney said in the pre-meeting. "You notified the state historical office once the site had been authenticated and have cooperated fully with them ever since."
"And we have the historical office's blessing as well as that of the Governor of Alabama for how we handled everything." I said.
Doctor Junie and Mr. Wirth arrived and I did the introductions to those they didn't know.
At about nine thirty the receptionist called to tell us that Ms. Trefalin and her party were here.
"We'll meet them in conference room two." Mr. Salmon said.
The group representing the Justice Department and other aspects of the US Government were some of the most serious looking people I'd seen in a long time.
Ms. Trefalin looked and sounded like she was no-nonsense period. Her partners were just as grim faced when she introduced them to us. I would bet that none of them would even crack a smile during a Red Skelton and Marx Brothers film festival.
Mr. Salmon introduced his people and we all took seats around the large table.
"I'll come right to the point Mr. Salmon." Ms. Trefalin said. "While there is no federal law that extends federal emanate domain over local heritage sites. When there are extenuating factors within the site the federal government has acute interest in the location. Such as matters of internal security and unresolved military actions."
I know I blinked about three times.
"What factors or actions would be involved with a Confederate outpost?" Our attorney asked.
"There is evidence that the site was in use for the planning of actions against the USA after the cessation of hostilities." One of her associates said.
"A hundred and fifty years ago." I said.
"Remember. We're talking about the Confederate Army." Mr. Salmon added.
"Which had ceased to exist with the surrender of the Department of Eastern Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama in eighteen sixty-five." Mister Wirth said.
"Your outpost was operating for over a year after that." The other assistant said. "A full investigation is warranted."
"The last entry in that log book is from Eighteen Sixty Six. That's still a long time ago." I said.
Mr. Salmon got into it. "After the investigation what would you do? Dig the Colonel up and charge him with treason?"
They didn't smile.
"The matter is not subject to adjudication for obvious reasons." Ms. Trefalin said solemnly. "However, certain aspects of the operation do need to be cleared by various authorities. The violation of the site may now make that impossible."
Now Dr. Junie spoke up. "The site was not 'violated'. Everything was recovered and conserved. Recognized historical scholars are cataloging and evaluating everything from the site."
"We've already identified over eighty percent of the soldiers listed in the rosters, we've verified where most of the weapons came from. And we've tracked back some of the funds that were used by the outfit to the sources and have leads on other monies in their logs." Mr. Wirth said. "What more investigation would you do?"
"That would be up to the authorities involved."
"The War Department?" Mr. Salmon asked.
Ms. Trefalin actually frowned at him. "This Is a Serious Matter."
"Yes ma'am." I said to try to take some heat off him. "But what we don't understand is why?"
She looked at me like I'd just told her that I had just learned to tie my own shoes last weekend. Her face was somewhere between bemusement and scorn, evidently the rationale was so obvious to her and her associates that any hint that somebody just didn't see it was an invitation to open fear and loathing.
One of the others answered with a patient voice. "Any terrorist operation against this country, no matter when it was conceived needs to be investigated by the most competent authorities available."
"And who is more of an authority on Confederate operations than me and my people?" Mr. Wirth said. "Name them, and if they're not already working on what we found I'll call them myself and invite them over."
The patient one answered again. "There are people in the Defense Department...."
Mr. Wirth cut him off. "General Sterling Carter. Army, retired. Used to serve in the Pentagon's historical affairs office. Wrote a pretty good book about the blockade runners. He was over to my office Friday reviewing the names on some of the shipping crates we haven't identified yet."
"OK everybody. Deep breath." Mr. Salmon said with his hands up.
"Thank you sir." I said leaning back in my chair.
"Would you agree that while we may not have exactly followed the protocol you say we should have, in the long run we have adequately met every point you have raised. And in my opinion, we have exceeded your requirements for scholarly research?"
Ms. Trefalin didn't say anything either way.
"And as long as Jackson County and the State of Alabama, and even the local chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy are happy with things the way they are on property that is wholly and totally owned by this company, the Federal Government has no more than a cursorily interest in the site unless it is eventually designated as a US military historical site as well as its state status which is pending." Our attorney said.
Ms. Trefalin was still silent.
I had an idea. "And if and when we find anything else there or at another site... American Indian relics, dinosaur bones, UFO wreckage, Jimmy Hoffa... We'll call you."
She glared at me for a minute. Then she nodded sharply. "I believe we understand each other."
In a couple of minutes they were gone and we were alone.
I shook my head. "OK. Exactly what was that all about?"
Mr. Salmon pursed his lips and shook his head.
"I really can't say." Our attorney said slowly. "But the impression I got was that they were just sounding us out to see what our motivations were and how far we'd go to defend ourselves."
"Defend ourselves against what?" I asked.
"Maybe if we hadn't dug in for battle they would have come after us on some minor technicality under a national archeological interest clause." The lawyer said.
Mr. Salmon paused. "There is such a clause?"
The lawyer nodded. "It's not spelled out per se, but if you take various parts of various regulations and string them together." He made a gesture like he was assembling a model car. "You can come up with an amalgam that basically says that if an archeological site has national historical significance then the Federal Government has primacy over all other interests."
"In that case. Thank you for being ready for battle." Mr. Salmon said.
"My pleasure sir."
Mr. Salmon sat back and smiled. "OK. Everybody write up a first impressions report with any observations and conclusions then we'll go out to lunch. My treat."
"Because the Rebels beat the Yankees?" I grinned.
"Sure."
I went to what used to be my office and wrote out a brief narrative of what had happened from my point of view with my suspicions about some sort of political angle that they weren't about to come clean about.
"So you really are working." Alice said from the door.
"Yeah. Almost done."
"Mister Salmon said we were just waiting on you."
"I can't be the last one done." I said. She nodded and I looked at my report.
What should have been a page to a page and a half brief was just over four pages long.
"Oh well." I said and saved it then sent it as an email to Mr. Salmon and the others on the team.
She held out her hand to me. "Let's go."
Lunch was great.
We went to a little Italian place many of the home office staff ate lunch at.
Mr. Salmon and Mr. Wirth swapped stories for over an hour while we ate pasta and listened and occasionally laughed.
But then when we were done, it was too late for us to leave to drive back to Bryant that day. I said my final good byes to Shirley and the others I didn't expect to see for a long time, then we drove back to the hotel.
"So what's in the bag?" I asked Alice while we waited at a light.
"Just some things for Robby."
"Oh, what did Mr. Salmon get him?"
"You'll have to wait until we get to the room to see." She smiled at me. "And I may not show you then."
"Oh?" I questioned.
She looked at me and grinned, then she faced forward and stuck her nose in the air.
I was going to say something smart but the light changed and I had to drive.
We stopped up in the room for a few minutes, but neither of us wanted to stay there so we walked through the hotel, then went to the mall.
After while we went to the other restaurant for a light dinner, then up in the room we found a movie and simply sat and enjoyed each other's company and laughed at the antics of the characters in the movie trying to find a hidden stash of money without letting the others know they were looking for it.
Then it was time to turn in for the drive early in the morning.
It wasn't bright and early when we hit the road but it was still early enough that we talked about stopping for a little more substantial breakfast than the roll and coffee we had compliments of the hotel.
We marveled at the beauty of the country along the highway south through the Shenandoah Valley along interstate 81. Then after an hour or so we stopped for a real breakfast.
We didn't hurry and stopped a couple more times just to see what there was to see. So when we finally pulled into Bryant it was getting late.
I pulled up in front of Alice's house and stopped.
"This has been wonderful." Alice said. "Like we were a real couple."
"We are a real couple." I said.
"You know what I mean."
"Like a married couple."
She nodded.
I just looked at her.
It wasn't the way I planned to ask her. But it seemed right. It felt right.
Since we were sitting in my car I couldn't get down on one knee.
I didn't have a ring.
But.
It was right anyway.
I reached over and took her hand and simply asked her.
"Alice. Will you marry me?"
14. My reflection is smiling
The next month flew by.
I spent a long weekend on Alice's family's farm with 'my' chainsaw. I proved to Harris that I really could drive a tractor, and in spite of my considering myself in pretty good shape the old boy almost worked me into the dirt. Almost.
But Sunday night back at the house Alice told me in no uncertain terms how much it had met to him. And more importantly, to her.
After the fantastic progress on the site and then the construction of the buildings itself the interior work seemed to take forever.
We covered everything at least once, and in some cases, twice.
The buildings had to be compliant with the federal handicapped guidelines, there were some unusual lighting requirements from the State we had to meet for the emergency exits. Then one of the inspectors had a problem with the way just anybody could walk up to the boulders in the lobby. She was convinced one kid could push them over onto another kid, even when the crew demonstrated that they were fixed to the floor with concrete. The architect proposed enclosing the bases of the two largest with a false hill complete with some plants to make them look more natural. The hill would prevent children from crawling under them. The inspector agreed and the crew went to get the stuff to build the hill.
Other problems involved the placement of the privacy screens in one of the bathrooms in the office building. It seems that at some point in the construction of the building about eight inches had vanished.
"So what happened?" I asked Mr. Krendel as we walked across to the building.
"They're still trying to figure that out."
I said I couldn't wait to hear what they found.
And I didn't have long to wait.
When we got to the bathroom Walt was watching a couple of the guys rip a wall out.
"Well that'll make the painters mad." I said.
"They'll get over it."
"There's a wall behind there." Mr. Krendel said looking behind the drywall that was coming down.
"Yeah. I don't know how it happened." Walt said as the workmen carried the sections out. "Somehow they covered two beams that were supposed to be left exposed and put up a couple of nailers to hold the sheets. This wall wasn't supposed to be here."
With the 'extra' wall out of the way the privacy screens went right where they were supposed to. Walt dispatched his wrecking crew to get the seam tape and plaster they'd need to make the uncovered surface presentable.
We inspected the rest of the office building and then went to check on where the plans said the walkway down to the utility shed would be. As we turned the corner we saw the work crews descending on the old trailer for coffee break.
"Well sir. Ya'll's just in time." Dad Gilmore said as he handed us cups of coffee.
"I planned it like that." Mr. Krendel said.
The old man laughed and went to check on the men.
Dad Gilmore had been having a great time as the, the, whatever he was. But he had also said repeatedly that once the place opened, he was going back into full retirement with a vengeance.
"This has been grand Mister Michels, but I can't keep on workin' like this." He had said more than a couple of times. "I put my time in at the mill. I'll work for ya'll while ya needs me. But once it's done, I'm done. Yes sir."
One of the human resources people at the home office had asked exactly what Mr. Gilmore was doing for us, and I had some trouble explaining it, but one thing I did tell them was that I wondered how any other projects got completed without him. Mrs. Krendel had put him down as 'construction phase site facilitator' and after my talk to HR, they accepted that job title and he became the only one in the company. But I hoped he wouldn't be the last.
The bridge and the excavation that would create the pond under it were finished. The partial dam to fill the pond had been closed, and the basin was full of water. Now we were just waiting on a delivery of small game fish and plants that would thrive in the lake that measured just over half an acre in surface area by a maximum depth of about ten feet.
The road had been paved and marked and the main parking lot was getting there. The only part of a road not completed was the curbing around the circle drive in front of the main lobby. Even the section of the old road up the hill that went past the utility building that we were going to use had been paved.
Most of the main sidewalks had been poured. And the one concrete addition I made to the plans a couple of weeks ago was done as well.
A small level area down the hill behind the admin building had caught my attention during one of our walkthroughs of the outlying area. I thought it would be a great place for a couple of benches to sit on and look out over the valley. I mentioned it to the landscapers and they ran with it.
Now it was a fairly good-sized semi circular patio with a gently curving path leading down to it. Some more of the local stone had been incorporated into the patio itself and the low retaining wall on the uphill side. Two long curved concrete benches, that were surprisingly comfortable with their high backs and generous armrests, faced a square pedestal and small decorative statue of a civil war era soldier who was standing at what the paperwork said was 'heroic attention'. The whole assembly was perfect for exactly what I had imagined, a place for quiet reflection and maybe even meditation.
The day after it was finished one of the older workers went down there to eat lunch and later he suggested a perfect name for it.
"The Guardian of Our Memories." I read off the bronze plaque that had just been shipped in from Montgomery. Several of the guys put together some forms and got several large stones and built a holder for the plaque at the top of the walk. When it was done and dry with the bronze installed and polished it looked like it had been part of the original concept for the entire project.
Saturday evening I drove Alice up to the site. We came in off the highway on the new road. I had to unlock the gate and drive through, then relock it then drive on. I stopped in the middle of the bridge and we just sat there and looked for a few minutes. Then I drove up the hill and slowed down as we rounded the last turn.
"That's perfect." Alice said as the main building came into view on top of the hill.
We waved at Pauly in the trailer as we went by. He smiled and hollered at Alice.
"Hi ya Pauly." She called back.
We stopped outside the main building and took in the view. Then I drove around it and down the hill to stop near the admin building. Then we got out and walked through it while I told her the story about the extra wall in the bathroom. We went into the bathroom and looked. Unless you knew what had been there, you couldn't tell.
Then we walked through what was to be our apartment in the back corner of the office building. The kitchen was small but well appointed, there was a dining room and living area, two good sized bedrooms and one smaller one, one of the bedrooms being a master suite with its own bathroom. The last time Alice had seen it the apartment was missing interior walls and the floor was bare concrete. She pronounced the nearly ready final product as very nice. We stood in the master bedroom and looked out the window.
"When the sun comes up it will come right in through this window." I told her.
"Sounds like a nice way to wake up every morning."
"As long as I'm with you, it’s a nice way to wake up." She smiled and I kissed her.
Then we walked out. I took Alice's hand and led her down the path to the patio.
"This is very nice." Alice said as we walked around the statue. "And very pretty."
"Yes. You are." I said looking at her instead of the valley.
The first recorded kiss on the patio happened soon thereafter.
After I dropped her off at her place I went home and carried a couple of bags into the house. Then I went upstairs to get ready for bed.
As I stood in the shower I thought about the conversation we had on the bench watching the glow on the mountains in Georgia as the sun set behind us.
We talked about the center, us, the trip to Virginia, our engagement and a few other things. We also spent a long time sitting on the bench, holding hands, and kissing.
I got out of the shower and dried off. Then I picked up my toothbrush and glanced into the mirror.
The face in the mirror was smiling.
Everything for the interviews for program director were set up for the end of the coming week.
All three of the candidates were from within the company or one of the affiliated companies, so they all should know exactly what they were getting into and should be able to at least walk into the interview, if not the job, and know what to do.
I felt like I had a good hand on the job of program director from personal experience. A couple of years ago I had filled in at a center in Virginia when their PD had health problems. My first couple of weeks on the job were almost a disaster. But then with a lot of help from the staff I learned how to work things so the various departments could do their jobs without conflict. I learned how to talk to the client's so they knew exactly what was going on, and when they needed to know what was going on. When the regular PD came back after nearly six months off, I had serious thoughts about putting in for an opening at another center, but then the construction was getting ready to start at another location and I had already done some of the work on it so I let that go for awhile.
And now I was glad I had.
And now I was smiling a lot more than I had been before too.
"She's good for you Mister Michels." Dad Gilmore said. "She'll keep ya young."
I thanked the man and tried not to grin quite as much.
Mrs. Krendel thought our getting serious was the nicest thing that had ever happened to her.
"I was worried you wouldn't like her because of Robby."
"I like both of them."
"I know, but."
"It's OK. I'm taking them as a package deal."
"You'll be a great dad for Robby."
That gave me a pause. They were a package deal. A ready-made family. I would get a wife and a stepson in grade school in one shot.
It would take some getting used to.
I looked around the office. It wouldn't be that long and we'd be moving it up to the new office building. The phone company was supposed to be pulling a fiber optic cable up the mountain sometime in the near future. Once that was in and the circuit was working, we'd make the move.
That would take some getting used to too.
I liked having the office in town, but that wasn't an option. As GM I needed to be up there. I tried to think of an excuse to keep it open, but couldn't.
Then one of the people from the state historical office called wanting to know if there was someplace they could rent at minimal expense to use to coordinate the research on the site.
"Your location is a little remote." She said. "I wasn't aware that we didn't have a branch office within a couple of hours drive from your location. Since you are offering housing to our researchers, we were going to transfer their housing allowance for research and office space."
"I might just have an idea. How long will you need it?"
"We'll probably sign a one year lease with an option for more."
"Let me make some calls."
"Mister Michels?" Mrs. Krendel said with a really serious tone to her voice late one morning.
"Yes ma'am."
She stepped into the office followed by lady who appeared to be in her fifties, but who was so classy and refined she was absolutely beautiful. I stood up out of habit.
Mrs. Krendel moved aside and smiled as she introduced the lady. "This is…" She paused a second and glanced at a note in her hand. "Victoria Troschilova LaMease, Countess Troschen."
"Mister Michels." The lady curtsied slightly.
"Ahhh, Countess." I answered and nodded to her. I had had the class on proper etiquette for dealing with the aristocratic classes up to and including ruling royalty but for the moment I had forgotten everything from them. "What can I do for you ma'am?"
She smiled as charmingly as a countess should smile and spoke with a slight Eastern European accent. "I am the principle producer and host for the EuroTel history programe that is running a series on America's past." She smiled and nodded. "We would like to do a feature on your facility."
"You mean the Confederate bunker?" I asked.
"Yes sir."
I blinked a couple of times.
My secretary nodded to me. "I'll get a call through to Mister Salmon."
"Yes please." I said to Mrs. Krendel. "Please, would you like some coffee?" I asked the lady and indicated one of the chairs near my desk.
"Yes. Thank you." She nodded graciously and sat down with the gracefully polished movement of someone who was absolutely at ease everywhere she went.
"Cream and sugar?"
"Just a little of both, thank you."
"I'll be right back." I said and tried to walk calmly into the front office.
"This is her crew." Mrs. Krendel said as I walked through the door. Several people were sitting and standing around drinking sodas and smoking cigarettes. They looked and acted like almost every TV production crew I'd ever seen. Very casually dressed, carrying various types of gear, acting with almost a total disregard for everybody else around them.
"I'm Phillip. Production." A tall thin man with a full beard and an intense gaze said to me.
"Oh." I said. "Glad to meet you." I nodded to the group and went to make two coffees.
"They're paging Mr. Salmon." Mrs. Krendel indicated the blinking light on the phone.
"OK."
I did manage to remember the Countess's cream and sugar.
"Thank you Mister Michels." The lady said to me with a smile.
"My pleasure." I smiled back to her. "Now, please tell me one thing." She nodded and sipped her coffee. "How did you hear about our bunker?"
"We were in Houston, Texas working on the ship channel and saw the news. As soon as we finished there I found out where you were and we set off."
"Oh."
"Perhaps we should have telephoned first."
I was telling her that it was OK that they didn't call ahead when Mrs. Krendel beeped me to say Mr. Salmon was on the phone.
I pushed the speaker button. "Mr. Salmon?"
"Yeah Chet. What's up?"
"Ahhh. I've got you on speaker." I tried to remember the lady's full name and title. "I've got a guest down here from the European television network."
"Countess Troschen, yes, Mrs. Krendel said she wants to do a show on the bunker."
"Yes sir. I'm sure our viewers will find it as fascinating as I did when your cable news program discussed it."
In a few minutes Mr. Salmon got one of the company's media relations people on the line and they discussed the production and some other issues. Most of it would be videotaped without commentary, then the voice over would be added later in several different languages. Where the Countess appeared on camera she would speak 'American English' as she put it, because the site was in America, then subtitles would be added later in the language used in the commentary.
"Where all will the show be played?" Mr. Salmon asked.
"Throughout the region. Italy, Germany. Even Austria where much of my family lives still."
Then I asked a crucial question. "Who will get the US broadcast rights?"
The lady smiled at me. "We could assign North American rights to your company if you have the ability to make use of it."
"Yes ma'am." Mr. Salmon said with some enthusiasm.
"Yes indeed Countess. We have very good relations with several television outlets." The manager of the media relations department said.
"Excellent."
Then they got into the details of what she repeatedly referred to as a 'programe' and I listened to an almost foreign language after she called for one of her crew who seemed to know everything there was to know about the subject.
In the end they agreed to meet together the day after tomorrow and work out the final details and legal stuff. In the meantime, they'd find themselves some local lodging and begin work.
Alice thought it was all very exciting.
And when I introduced her to the Countess she couldn't believe Ms. LaMease was a real Countess.
"Yes. The title 'Comitissa' was my grandmother's." She smiled that smile again. "When she passed she left it to me as a legacy. I came into it when I turned twenty years old. Unfortunately the parcel we oversaw, Troschify, had been subdivided under the Communists and…" She shook her head. "It is a long story and I do not wish to bore you, however, I did inherit the title and a large drafty house."
Alice had been hanging on every word. "Oh, no ma'am. I'd love to hear the whole story."
"We'll have to have you over for dinner and you can tell us all of it."
"I would be delighted." She smiled and bowed slightly.
Then we went back to discussing current production. She wanted to do a tour of the bunker without the cameras and then talk to several of the people involved with it to familiarize herself with the subject. Then they'd begin shooting.
There wouldn't be a script. She said she just talked about the subject and interviewed people and presented the topic as it went, letting the audience draw their own conclusions about whatever it was.
"Of course I wish for you and your lady friend to be on camera." The Countess said. "I love having families on. It gives our production more of a sense of solidity."
That night Mr. Salmon called me at home.
"It's legit." He said.
"I thought so." I said even though the thought that she was a complete and total fraud had spent about three seconds in my mind before being totally ignored.
"Me too, but I had her checked out. She's really with some European TV outfit, she is really a Contessa, and her crew is bankrolled by some Austrian outfit I'd never heard of."
"How's her security clearance?"
"NATO let her into their headquarters to film."
I laughed. "She's good looking, that's probably all it took to get some General to give her the keys to the place."
"No doubt. But our people say let her do whatever she wants to do." He paused. "Within reason."
"Yes sir."
"And I'm leaving at first light. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Yes sir. Who else is coming?"
"Dr. Junie. Some of the others. We want to make sure this is done right. And oh yeah. We called the Alabama film people and the historical office. You can expect a lot of company in the next few days."
"Did you call Ms. What's Her Name from the Federal Government?"
"Yes. She said they wanted to approve the content of the film before it is released." He chuckled. "I told her it'd belonged to Eurotel and some Austrian Princess. Then she said they'd have to consult with the State Department and they'd get back to me."
"I think that's the end of that."
"Probably."
15. Camera Eye On History USA
The next morning we all met at the office and then took the Countess and her party on extensive tour of the entire complex and the Bunker.
She charmed Dad Gilmore until the man was actually blushing. Jimbo and some of the others were falling all over themselves. Walt almost couldn't talk. And Mr. Krendel... Well, let's just say what I thought was a calm and mature man in total control of himself, wasn't.
We didn't make total asses of ourselves.
Not totally.
During the tour she did not discuss the show, camera angles or anything else that way. Instead she asked questions about the war, the Confederate commanders and their units, the history of the house that had been there and other things related to it. Then she carefully and intently listened to the answers as best as we could state them. I had told her that Dr. Junie and her people could tell her a lot more, but the Countess insisted on hearing it from us first.
Since we were still working out of the trailer we took them back there after the tour for coffee and donuts.
"Sorry about the mess Ma'am." Dad Gilmore said a couple of times. "But we works a lot out here."
She smiled at him with a very understanding expression on her face. "It's wonderful Mister Gilmore. It is so real." She said with a ton of expression and feeling in her voice.
"Thank you ma'am." Dad Gilmore said. "I'll tell Jimbo that. It's his place, we're just borry-ing it for awhile."
I had made her coffee and as soon as he finished speaking I handed it to her.
She smiled and nodded to both of us and sat in the chair Mr. Krendel had wiped off for her.
Then as the rest of her crew got coffee and found someplace to sit we began discussing the filming of her show.
They planned on doing it like they had several other programs, including the most recent one on the Houston Ship Channel.
They had cruised the length of the canal while filming the passage and the surrounding area. Then to open the show they ran the high points of the trip with minimal commentary and some suitable background music. Then they went into the details and began narrating the history of the sea route into the heart of Texas.
For our Bunker they were going to start at the highway and come up the new approach to the center. Then pan around showing the view of the valley then the state of the art buildings. Then without a word of warning they'd descend into the storm cellar, follow the narrow dark passage to the first room, then focus on the tattered Confederate flag and a page from the journal with a date from the eighteen sixties clearly visible. Then the Countess would introduce the program by saying something about how could such a relic come to be in the middle of a brand new high tech conference center.
"I like it." The tall hairy man with that slightly mad twinkle in his eye of a true artist. "We'll do it."
The next morning Mr. Salmon came in about eight in the morning. They had driven all night and the four of them were pretty much bleary eyed and crunchy when they pulled into the center and got out of the car to stretch.
"We've got clothes and stuff in the car." Mr. Salmon said after accepting a very welcome cup of coffee and a roll from Dad Gilmore.
"The staff locker rooms in the housin' unit is ready to go sir. Hot water and all." Dad Gilmore said to him, "We's got coffee made, ya'll can take a cup wit' ya."
Mr. Salmon glanced over at the rest of them.
"Sounds wonderful." Dr. Junie said.
"Point the way." Mr. Wirth picked up his bag and grinned.
Not long after the party from Virginia arrived the Countess and her people came in from the motel they were staying at.
She was delighted that our 'experts' had arrived.
Phillip didn't want to wait around for everybody to get ready. He took the rest of the crew and went to start filming location shots and setting up the approach sequence.
Mr. Wirth was the first one back to the trailer from the showers. He was, to put it mildly, stunned to meet the Countess. But after some pleasantries her specific questions about the bunker and the troops stationed there relaxed him and got him onto familiar territory. He answered every question in some depth and she usually asked a follow up question that showed that she not only had remembered everything we had told her earlier, but had absorbed everything Mr. Wirth had just told her.
And I learned a lot about the bunker as well as she asked questions that had never occurred to me.
About ten the contingent from the State Film Board and the Historical Office arrived and added their part to the mix. Countess Troschen greeted them warmly and thanked them for their interest in her project. From what I gathered the official position of the State of Alabama was that anything the Eurotel crew wanted or needed from the state had, in principle, already been granted by executive order.
Dad Gilmore was now a TV production assistant as well as everything else he did. He located longer extension cords for their fixed lighting so they were more mobile during the filming. Then he arranged refreshments for the crew and even told Phillip what time the sun hit which side of the mountain for the best shots.
After lunch Countess Troschen was ready to begin her part. She introduced herself and the subject of the program standing by the Guardian monument, then they began filming her segments.
I had been interviewed by TV crews before. Usually it was just a shot of me standing in front of a newly opened building saying some version of a canned speech about how happy we were to be in business where ever it was we were. Now I had to think about what she had asked, and answer with something meaningful while standing next to Alice. The fact that my fiancé was dressed every bit as beautifully as she ever had been didn't help me concentrate at all.
Fortunately she didn't ask me anything more than superficial questions about how the bunker had been discovered and what we'd done when we found it. And the good thing was that when she asked Alice something, I got to watch her smile and answer.
She even had a few questions for Walt and Dad Gilmore as part of the group that had been the first to see the contents of the bunker in a hundred years or so.
Then she moved on to Dr. Junie and Mr. Wirth as the subject experts.
I watched the crew set up and take close up pictures of some of the documents and artifacts. Then they did a set up shot that recreated the finding of the stash of coins.
The next night me and Alice entertained the Countess and Mr. Salmon at the house.
Alice had outdone herself with the dinner. She had regional favorites and some classic food that the soldiers in the bunker might have enjoyed.
Countess Troschen was so taken with the dishes that Alice had prepared that she asked if Alice could make some more the next day and show them in the bunker itself on some of the display pots and tableware we had recovered from the cabinets in the assembly room.
At first Alice said no, but then before we could say anything else she asked if Robby could be there to assist her and the Countess said yes with a huge smile.
All in all it took three days of production, but then they had what they needed. Which included the presentation of Confederate era food as presented by Alice, with authentication by Mr. Wirth and Dr. Junie. As well as a brief interview with the people from one of the local re-enactors groups that actually ate the dishes on a regular basis.
We had found dry goods and even some canned food in some of the cabinets. Of course none of the contents were of any use at all except to the chemists at the Universities in Virginia and Huntsville. The food segment was very interesting and I decided to include a few more of the dishes they talked about in our menus for functions. Of course the fact that I could hire Alice as a 'specialist' to prepare them had no bearing on that decision at all.
Robby was the consummate professional. He stayed quiet until the Countess asked him a question and fetched the right pan or ingredient without hesitation.
"We all get T-shirts." Mr. Krendel said. "For their closing shot." He pointed to the 'Camera Eye' logo on his chest above the words Eurotel Italia.
"OK. That's pretty cool." I said as he handed me a shirt with my name on a tag.
A few minutes later everybody was in their shirts and gathering at the base of the hill where the main entrance to the bunker was. There were several re-enactors in uniform standing in formation off to one side of the door, we were on the other side. The Countess stood between us and thanked us for allowing them to share our find with her audience, then she thanked the audience for their time. Then we waved and the soldiers saluted and that was it.
The crew had already filmed a very serene scene at the Memorial with the sun behind the camera and the valley below slowing getting dark for the closing credits.
Then I got a cold realization. I had the interviews for Program Director the next day and I was totally unprepared.
The van with the three candidates pulled up to the center later that afternoon and we assigned them rooms in the housing unit.
Fortunately I had had enough time to review their files and force enough of their information into my head, which was still spinning from the TV crew, to greet them by name and ask a relevant question about them or their trip or something to not come off too badly.
Dad Gilmore showed them to their rooms and told them he was having dinner delivered since our kitchen facilities were still only partially complete, then they went to freshen up.
"First impressions?" I asked Mr. Krendel.
"All three seem like good people." Then he looked at me. "I wouldn't want to make the decision."
"Thanks a lot."
Ms. Stacia Harvey was an assistant manager at the center near Cincinnati. I remembered it quite well since that had been my first hands on job during their remodeling and expansion. She hadn't been there then, but the manager she worked for had been the assistant PD then and I knew if he had promoted her she had well earned the job. She was a little younger than I expected since her personnel file said she had taken time off to raise her family then gone back to work. Her last review said she was calm and dependable and that most of the clients gave her high marks. Then there was one note from a client who was totally dissatisfied by her refusing to allow them to build a real campfire in the parking lot for their closing circle. The client had tried to file a lawsuit for discrimination but the county magistrate in Ohio had thrown the case out. They still filed a protest with the company and as regulations would have it, the note ended up in her file. She hadn't backed down, I liked that.
Mr. Chris Benjamin had really stood out. He had been an assistant PD a few years ago, but had stepped down to go back to school full time for his MBA. He had it now and was back looking to pick up where he had left off. Right now he was working in the property section in the home office but wanted to get back in the field. He wouldn't need any training and had a lot of experience to offer. However, I knew full good and well that he'd be here for a year, maybe two, then he'd be gone, probably into upper management, or maybe to another company all together.
Mrs. Janie Duffy was maybe a little bit better qualified for General Manager than she was Program Director, but she had applied for the PD job. She was the GM of a site in New England that was closing due to a change in the zoning of the area. The company was going to build a new center, but she didn't want to hang around for it. On her application she listed a ton of experience doing every job we had including teaching classes as part of a community outreach. Her reason for applying here was that Bryant, Alabama was warmer with shorter winters than Massachusetts. The impression I got was that she was about five years from retirement and was shopping for someplace to do it.
I had three excellent candidates. I was hoping one of them would really strike sparks or something would happen to more or less make the decision for me.
Mr. Benjamin came over to the trailer first. I pretended to be busy while he chatted with Dad Gilmore and Mr. Krendel. Then the two women came over.
"Mister Michels. They's all here." Dad Gilmore said.
"Oh. Good thank you sir." I got up from the table and smiled at them. All three were dressed in their finest business suits so I was glad I had dressed a little better than I had become accustomed to lately. "We'll take a quick tour of the place and then have an informal chat before dinner."
"That sounds good." Mrs. Duffy said.
"Which would ya'll like to see first, our Confederate Army bunker or the center itself?"
They looked at each other.
"The bunker." Mrs. Duffy said. The others deferred to her and it was settled.
On the way to the bunker I told them about the TV crew and some of the other events associated with it. "It's been a ton of free publicity. We've already booked about half the available dates and rooms for the first five or six months after we open."
"That's excellent." Mr. Benjamin said.
Ms. Harvey asked about what kind of groups were coming in.
"We've got some state agencies from Alabama and Tennessee coming in, a couple of insurance companies, and one executive training group bringing in VP level folks from several different companies around Atlanta."
"Wonderful. That sounds like they'll have repeated bookings." Mrs. Duffy said.
"If we make a good first impression." I said. "Here we are." I gestured to the door at the bottom of the new concrete stairs.
"Is it safe?" Mrs. Duffy asked.
"We just had a whole TV crew down there with no problems."
She nodded reluctantly and we went down the stairs and I unlocked the door.
It took an hour to walk them through the bunker and come out the other end. Then we went up the hill to the still unnamed meeting center.
We'd been kicking around the names of various famous people from Alabama including Bear Bryant, but nothing had really captured the 'flavor' for lack of a better word, of the center and the overall atmosphere of where and what we were.
Some of the guys had been calling the top of the hill the summit during construction, and now the landscaping crew was using it to describe it as well.
Then while I was walking through the housing unit with the candidates one of the painters came up to me with a question.
"Did ya'll see the trim in the dining hall up in the Summit Building?"
I nodded for two reasons. I had seen the trim, and I liked the way that rang in my ear.
"The Summit Building." I repeated. As far as I was concerned, it was named. "Yes sir."
"It wasn't the exact color ya'll had ordered, but I think it looks just as good."
"What was ordered?"
"Bright white semi-gloss. They ran out down to Cousin Marvin's, we used the soft white from the office building, we had plenty of it."
"Still semi-gloss isn't it?" Mr. Benjamin asked.
"Yes sir." The painter answered.
I looked at my candidates. "I didn't notice any difference, did you?"
They all said they it really hadn't caught their eye.
"Then it's good enough. When we repaint it in a year or so we'll hit it with the other."
"Thank you sir."
"Is the painting up there done?"
"Yes sir. I'll walk through it later and see to any touchups, but all we have left is some trim in here and another coat down in the utility building. Then we's done."
"Thank you sir." I said to him.
The tour ended in the office building.
It still smelled like carpet adhesive. Some of the new furniture had been delivered. Office equipment was sitting in shipping crates. The only desk being used in the whole building was Walt's back in the physical plant office. And it was buried under tools and equipment they were still using to bring everything up to speed.
"So, first impressions? What'cha think?" I asked them as we settled into seats in the trailer and Dad Gilmore passed out soft drinks.
"I'm impressed." Mr. Benjamin said. "Thank you sir." He said as he took a cup.
I looked at Mrs. Duffy who was next in line.
"I love the view from up here. You picked a great location."
"I didn't pick it, but if I had been the one to make the choice I would have."
Ms. Harvey was next. "But isn't this location a little too far away from major cities to sustain the business?"
"It seems like it doesn't it? But we are only about a hundred miles or so from Nashville, Atlanta, Birmingham and Knoxville. Chattanooga and Huntsville are almost in our back yard and both have serviceable airports."
"Oh. Then it's a great location."
I just grinned. I had thought the same thing my first night down here, until I studied a map and measured it all out.
We talked about the site for awhile, then Dad Gilmore announced that their dinners would be arriving soon. I nodded and took my leave assuring them that Pauly would be vigilant in his duties as night watchman tonight to ensure them a nice quiet night.
Alice was still talking about the fact that she had met an actual Countess and been on a TV show into the bargain.
She hugged me and talked a mile a minute and told me how wonderful the Countess had been and how nervous she had been doing the food segment…
"And I hope nobody follows that recipe the way I said it because I forgot the baking powder."
"They had the complete recipe on a card, they were going to show it at the end of the show and post it on their website."
She stopped and smiled. "Oh. Good."
"So you liked your first time on TV?"
Her smile was genuine, that light was back in her eyes, the entire expression of her face said it. "I was with the man I love."
End Section Four
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