66 Valdera Street

Copyright © 2013 John Reddie.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-0314-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0312-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0313-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013914403

iUniverse rev. date: 8/30/2013

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

FOR MY READERS, FOR WHOM, AFTER ALL, THESE STORIES ARE WRITTEN

CHAPTER 1

The will was short and right to the point. It was legal, binding, and prepared by the deceased’s lawyer. It read as follows:

I, Harold P. Dickens being of sound mind, leave all of my worldly belongings to my nephew and sole heir, Douglas J. Croft. They consist of my house and the 1.5 acres with it located on 66 Valdera Street in Bealston, Massachusetts, my savings along with eight War Bonds.

Also included is a 14 acre tract of land known as Clover Hills located in Robbinsville, Massachusetts. Douglas J. Croft will take possession of these items immediately after my death.

Harold P. Dickens

November 8, 1964

Harold was sick with chronic emphysema at the time that he had his will drafted and knew that his days were numbered. He died twelve days after his will was prepared. He wanted to be certain that Doug, his only nephew and living relative, would not be subjected to a lot of legal hassles when the time came. Harold had worked many years for himself servicing and installing heating systems in both homes and businesses. Between the soot and asbestos along with the years of cigarette smoking, his lungs were just barely functioning. He had suffered several bouts of pneumonia, the last almost finishing him off two months prior.

Doug had been close to his uncle and had lived with him at the Valdera Street house after his parents and older brother were killed in an automobile accident when Doug was eleven. They’d been coming home from Cape Cod when a drunken driver going the wrong way on the highway had slammed into them head—on, killing everyone instantly. Doug had not accompanied them that time because he would get car-sick on long rides, a problem that ended when he reached adulthood.

Harold and his late wife Sarah who had no children of their own, took Doug into their home and raised him as their own son after the devastating automobile wreck. They lived on one side of the Valdera Street house and Harold rented the other side to various tenants. He always kept the house and property in very good condition over the years and was always careful who he rented to.

The house was a single floor extended ranch style dwelling with a full basement and a driveway on each side for both tenants. The front of the house was landscaped with neatly trimmed shrub bushes along the full length and two large maple trees occupying the front yard. Behind the house was a spacious yard with a continuous row of thick Evergreen trees on each side providing plenty of privacy and area for both Doug and his neighbor. Each apartment was appointed with a full kitchen, full bathroom, a decent sized living room, and two bedrooms. Two gas-fired, forced hot-air furnaces in the basement supplied heat for both units. The neighborhood was populated with nice, hard-working families.

Doug was twenty six years old in June of 1965. He was an average looking young man, five feet-eleven inches tall and weighed one hundred and seventy pounds. His hair was dark brown and neatly trimmed and combed to his right side. He was always clean shaven and properly groomed. He had been working for a local company who manufactured packaging materials but was forced to leave when the company relocated to Wisconsin. After being unemployed for several weeks, he saw a full page newspaper ad for shipyard workers at the East Harbor Shipyard in Dover, Massachusetts. The following day, he got up early and after shaving and dressing, ventured out to apply.

After paying to park his car, he approached the main gate and asked the Security Guard where he should apply for a job. The Guard pointed to a building across the street with a sign over the entrance that read EMPLOYMENT OFFICE.

Sorry. I didn’t notice the sign Doug said, smiling and looking a little guilty.

The guard smiled back at him and looked as though Doug hadn’t been the first to have done that.

When he entered the office, he was amazed at the number of people that were there seeking jobs. He took an application and proceeded to fill it out. He listed his previous job and the several that he had worked during his school years. He had worked at the golf course in his town as a caddy and part time at the local hardware store. After he completed the form, he placed it in the tray on the front table, returned to his seat and waited to be called by an interviewer. A man who appeared to be in his early fifties came over and sat down next to Doug.

Busy here today he said quietly to Doug.

I know it. They must have a lot of openings. I hope they do Doug answered.

They need people, a lot of people. They have a bunch of good Navy contracts and that means work for a while. What are you applying for? the man asked.

Anything I guess. I need a job but I am afraid that I know nothing about building ships.

I’ll bet they can find something here for ya. There are so many different things here to be done; . . . . they’ll have something.

What were you doing for work before? Doug asked.

I had my own taxi company, small but it was good up until recently. Had to sell out. Wasn’t making enough to get by on.

Too bad Doug said.

I worked here back in ’42 for a short time till I got drafted.

Did you? Doug asked.

"Yeah. Boy, this place was wall to wall people then, guys and gals.

What did you do?

Crane operator. I ran those boom cranes on the swing shift. When I got out of the service, I started the taxi business. I never thought I’d be back here again.

Yes, I heard that they really put out a lot of ships here back during the war.

"A lot of ships" the man answered.

One of the interviewers, a husky young man no older than thirty, called out Doug’s name.

Doug stood and walked to him.

Sit down the man said smiling slightly and pointed to the chair beside his desk.

Doug sat down and looked at the man as he read over the application form. The man removed his glasses and faced Doug.

Douglas, you haven’t had any mechanical experience according to your application here. No welding or assembly skills, no electrical experience?

No I haven’t had that.

What did you do at the packaging company when you worked there?

I worked in the office ordering materials and keeping inventory of our stock on hand. I also would reorder items that we used when necessary.

And you left because they moved out of state?

I did, yes.

The interviewer thought for a minute and then picked up the telephone and dialed a number. Doug studied his desktop. He had at least six different applications and several manila folders that appeared to be in no special order. A small plaque with his name Tom Garnett sat at the very front edge of the desk.

The man spoke quietly into the phone for at least a minute and then hung up the receiver. He replaced his eyeglasses and briefly reexamined the application. He turned and looked squarely at Doug.

Douglas, I just spoke with Paul Hardy, who is one of the supervisors in our inventory control department. They are looking to hire several new people, and I think your past experience may qualify you for this type of work. Why don’t you have a seat over there, and I will call you when Paul shows up? It shouldn’t be very long. He said he’d be right down.

Doug went back to the seat that he had before. The man with whom he had spoken was still waiting to be interviewed but just as Doug sat down, his name was called.

Good luck Doug said quietly to him as he stood.

You too kid the man answered as he walked to the same interviewer that Doug had.

After about ten minutes, he heard his name called. He looked and saw Tom Garnett beckoning him to his desk. Paul Hardy reached out to Doug and introduced himself. Paul appeared to be around fifty and slim built. He had dark red hair and a long thin face with few lines. He motioned to Doug to accompany him to two empty chairs in the corner of the room. One of the chairs was an arm tablet and Paul read over Doug’s application quickly.

Douglas, I see here that you have had some previous experience with inventory work.

Yes I did; I did on my former job.

Okay, as you probably know, we have Navy contracts here right now and are planning on several more soon. The Navy insists that we keep a physical as well as a clerical inventory on all the materials that are required to construct these ships. The position that is open right now requires the employee to make sure that our records agree with the Navy’s. It would be necessary for the employee as well as keeping records on paper, to go to the material locations and physically count the items that do not agree with the Navy’s inventory. It is interesting work and there is plenty of it. Right now we are building two sub tenders which are very complex ships that can repair submarines while at sea and also outfit them with supplies as well. We’re also about to lay the keels for two Auxiliary Oiler Replenishment ships or AOR’S as we call them. They can refuel other ships at sea if necessary. There is a contract that East Harbor plans on bidding for in several months that will create a long future of work here if we can be awarded it.

Paul Hardy asked Doug several more questions regarding his former experience. Doug answered him honestly. He was excited about the possibility of working at a job with a good future and this seemed to be all of that.

Okay Douglas, I am going to have Tom Garnett set you up for a physical exam and if you pass that and don’t have a criminal record, you will be hired… . Oh and they will give you a list of different groups that you will be required to read and answer if have ever been affiliated with. Don’t be intimidated. It is done to every new applicant because we have government contracts Paul said smiling and extended his hand out to Doug.

He left the employment office and walked to the lot where he had parked his car. Before getting in, he stood and gazed into the vast area of the East Harbor Shipyard. He could see one of the sub tenders that was docked at one of the piers. Two boom cranes located beside it traveled back and forth loading parts and tools. The expenses of owning his own home were a responsibility and so far he had been able to keep things up. Harold had just over three thousand dollars in savings along with the Saving Bonds that had long since matured. A middle aged Chinese couple rented one side of Doug’s house. They were excellent tenants and paid their rent faithfully on the first of each month. Doug was getting along well and was careful with his spending. This position at the shipyard with a seemingly sound future ahead would be a good source of income for him.

He unlocked the door of his yellow and white 1953 Chevrolet Bel-Air convertible and slid in behind the steering wheel. This car was his pride and joy. He’d purchased it five years ago from his eighty-one-year-old neighbor who’d been the original owner. The car had gone just under one hundred thousand miles in its twelve years of service and still ran fairly well, but Doug had to add engine oil regularly, usually one quart weekly. The Chevrolet had the six-cylinder engine with the optional Powerglide automatic transmission.

As he drove along, he decided to stop at his favorite restaurant and have a delightful steak dinner. He had been anxious about his job interview but now that he had completed it and the position looked promising for him, he began to relax.

‘I should be able to pass the physical examination. I’m pretty healthy,’ he thought. Suddenly, Doug experienced a pang of fear in his stomach. He remembered the heart murmur that was discovered when he was a teenager during a school physical exam. He was told that it was not life threatening but after his exam for the draft board, he was deemed unsuitable for military service.

‘I’ll get a letter from my doctor if need be. After all, I’m not going to be lugging bags of concrete every day’ he thought as he turned into the restaurant parking lot.

The following day, Doug received a telephone call from Tom Garnett at the employment office. He informed Doug that he had scheduled him for a physical examination at the shipyard medical infirmary for the coming Friday morning at eight in the morning.

You should arrive early so you can park your car and fill out the questionnaire that is required explaining your health history Tom advised.

Tom, I have this heart murmur that was discovered when I was in high school but I was told that is was not a serious thing. It did prohibit me from entering the Army, though, and I am just hoping that it won’t keep me from getting hired. I can get a note from my doctor; do you think that I should?

It wouldn’t hurt just to be on the safe side, Tom answered.

As soon as Doug got off the telephone with Tom Garnett, he called his doctor’s office and requested a note explaining his heart condition. The receptionist told him that she would have the doctor write the note and that he could pick it up the following morning.

Good luck with your job, Doug, I hope you get it the receptionist said before hanging up.

CHAPTER 2

Doug passed his physical examination and was cleared to begin work at the shipyard the following Tuesday. His blood pressure, hearing, eyesight and overall heath was found to be fine. He was to report to the employment office at the shipyard at six thirty in the morning. At that time, Tom would have his paperwork and his identification badge ready. He had already filled out all of the questionnaires that were required so he would be ready to begin his new position.

The night before he started he could not get to sleep. He remembered glancing at the clock on his night stand and seeing it read 2:17 AM before he finally dozed off. The alarm went off way too soon for his liking but he rose quickly and got dressed. He decided to stop along the way and buy a cup of coffee and two doughnuts. The first day on any new job can make anyone feel a bit anxious and Doug was no exception. He was delighted that he had been able to pick up this position as quickly as he did. He had signed up for unemployment compensation but would not be collecting any of it.

The main entrance to the East Harbor Shipyard was located on North Kendall Street in Dover which was two towns over from Bealston where Doug lived. As he headed down to the main gate, Doug noticed that all of the parking lots were quickly filling up with workers cars. He pulled into a lot directly across from the main entrance and parked his car next to the car that preceded him. Before he was able to get out, a middle aged man with an enormous protruding stomach walked up to him and stood by the door.

You startin work ta’day Bud? he grunted with a hoarse voice.

I am, yes Doug answered

It’s three bucks a week to park here.

Well I’ll only be parking her for three days this week so how much will that be? Doug asked.

It’s three bucks every week no matter how many days you’re here he answered looking everywhere but at Doug.

So I need to give you three dollars now?

If you want to park your car here, yeah the man answered gruffly.

Doug had not thought about the parking situation but he would learn the ropes of shipyard work quickly. He pulled three one dollar bills from his billfold and handed them to the man.

Do you own this lot Doug asked.

Yeah, why? the man croaked as he stuck a small sticker on Doug’s side window that read NORTH KENDALL ST. PARKING.

No reason Doug answered and walked off towards the street.

After meeting with Tom Garnett in the employment office and receiving his identification badge and paperwork, Doug proceeded to the building in which the inventory control department was located. Tom had given him a map of the shipyard and circled the building that he needed to report to. The directions were very plain and easy to follow.

Doug was amazed at the huge area that the shipyard had. There were three slips, three basins and four piers. The basins were sealed off, each by a watertight gate and pumped out until dry. Then concrete pedestals were placed in various spots and the keel of the massive vessel was laid. The hull and decks were constructed and when the ship was ready to be moved to be outfitted, the basin was flooded with water and after filling completely, the ship was floated out to one of the piers to be completed.

The yard was a beehive of activity. Boom cranes moved back and forth beside ships under construction while trucks and forklifts were busy moving materials to their proper locations. There was a large machine shop, an even bigger steel mill, an electrical building, and a pipe and sheet metal shop. At the far end of the yard, over by the last slip, there was a turret shop and a boiler shop, one beside the other along with five large warehouses. Up at the front of the shipyard connected to the employment office where Doug had signed in was the main office building. The general manager’s office along with other company executives offices were located there.

The building where Doug was to report to was Warehouse B which along with the inventory control office was also the shipping and receiving department. A vast concrete loading dock was located at one end of the building with an overhead door. Tractor trailer trucks backed in and were unloaded constantly during each work day.

Doug entered the building and walked along until he spotted the door with the lettering INVENTORY CONTROL OFFICE stenciled on it. Once inside, he immediately spotted Paul Hardy who was speaking to an employee seated at his desk. Paul, upon seeing Doug, waved him over.

Good morning Doug. I see that you found us alright Paul said reaching out and shaking his hand.

Yes, Tom gave me a map which really helped.

Paul turned and looked at the man at the desk that he had been speaking to.

Doug, this is George Winwood. I want you to work with him. George will show you how we do things here. George, meet Doug Croft.

George stood and shook hands with Doug. He was in his late forties, forty eight to be exact. He was just five feet nine inches tall with a moderately protruding stomach. He was very bald and what hair remained on the sides and the back of his head, he had trimmed close. The top of his head shined. He had brilliant blue eyes, was clean shaven and neatly dressed. He wore a light brown long sleeved dress shirt with a gray sleeveless pullover sweater and dark green chino trousers.

Glad to meet you Doug George said smiling.

Glad to meet you George Doug answered back to him.

Paul Hardy returned to his office which was located at the far end of the floor.

Pull up a chair George said.

As Doug sat down, George’s telephone rang. He answered the call and sifted through a pile of manila file folders that were on his desk. When he found the one he needed, he withdrew it from the bunch and opened it. Doug looked around the large office while he waited for George to finish his conversation. Further down beyond George’s desk were five more. Two women and two men occupied four of them. The desk where no one was seated had several stacks of file folders piled upon it. Across the floor there was a row of filing cabinets. The top of the wall was fully lined with windows that were positioned high up so only the sky was visible. Doug noticed a long wooden pole leaning against the wall with a brass hook on one end that fit into the handle of each window. This allowed the windows to opened and closed from the floor and several were already open. Judging by this and the overall style of the building, it had to have been constructed during the twenties or possibly early thirties.

George completed his conversation and hung up his telephone receiver. After he and Doug traded some personal information about each other, George pulled his chair up closer to his desk and began to explain what the job entailed to Doug.

Every day we get papers like this from the main office. The items listed here are ones that the inventory figures differ from the main office and the warehouse. Sometimes we call the warehouse where the items are located and resolve it over the phone but very often we have to actually go over there and try to find the problem.

Is the front office ever wrong in their count? Doug asked.

"Oh sure but most of the time the error