Story: Tough Going

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1

And she died. Their trusted employee, their neighbor, their friend, their mother… She was taken from them.

She was thirty-nine. She was buried after a short ceremony in a beautiful, large cemetery outside the city to the northwest. Now it is called “historic,” but then it was considered new. Her headstone said, "Sarah Decker Davis, 1879-1918." There'd been many burials about that time period, especially just before. So many died then…

Sarah (or Sallie) Williamson had been born in Charleston, South Carolina. Her father was a ship’s carpenter from Sweden, who died unexpectedly in 1896 when Sallie was seventeen. Sallie’s mother Betty Lee had married a man named John Newburg just after the Civil War. He had died ten years later, just after their son James was born.

A year or so after her first husband's death, Betty married again, and three years after that, Sallie was born. Altogether, Betty and Erik Williamson had three daughters. One of them died only five months after she was born, her death record in the Charleston cemetery not even listing a name for her.

Life was tenuous and fragile, especially back then in the mid-to-late nineteenth century.

In 1900 Sallie herself married Wallace N. Decker, a ruler for one of the larger Charleston printing businesses. They lived with "Mama Betty" and Sallie’s younger sister Winnie. In 1902 their first son, Newton (“Newt” for short) was born, and Winnie moved to a rooming house near the millinery shop where she worked. A year later, Winnie too died, carried off by a sudden fever.

3

My dear Wallace,

We are all so sad. Mother cannot stop crying. Even little Newt seems to miss his dear auntie. It happened so fast. Mother was called to her bedside late in the afternoon Thursday, and by Friday evening little Winnie was gone.

She was always quiet and sweet, just as I’m sure you remember her. She would have made a good wife and mother -- I can’t bear to think she will never have that chance. And I will never again share a bed with her, or hold her dear little hand. I wish you were here to hold me close.

Mother says we have to “keep a-goin” is how she says it.

I miss you but I hope you find what you are looking for out there in Dallas. Thank you for writing now and then. I know it’s hard to find the time. Is it still very hot? Please, please take good care of yourself and don’t work too hard for Mr. Isaacs.

Your loving Wife,

Sallie

P.S. Do you still think you’ll come home for a while in the Fall? At least we have the trains now. SWD

*

Dear Sallie

I am very sorry about Winnie. I will always remember those days when we were first married. We didn’t have much room, did we, there in your mother’s house? But your Mama Betty and young Winnie accepted me into the family, which made it all right.

I hope Betty is getting along better by now. Having lost two husbands and now her beloved little girl – as she always called Winnie – is just too much.

And little Newt, is he well and happy? I know you like working in that shop, just like Minnie liked calling herself a milliner, but I wish you could have more time with him. Not that Mama Betty doesn’t love him about as much as you and me!

Anyway, yes, I will get a week off in November, unless there’s too much work for Mr. Isaacs to do without me at that time.

Hope you and Betty are as well as possible.

Love,

Your husband

*

“I don’t mind working,” he said to himself, mailing the letter at the downtown Post Office. “I like the print shop. But when the day’s over and on the weekends… well, a fellow should be able to have a little fun. You need some life, some excitement,” he was thinking as he headed down to the river bank to sit a while in the shade. Maybe there would be a little breeze. “Gosh, it’s hot in the sun,” he was thinking.

Sallie was a great partner, he had to admit, smart and a good talker, pretty too in her way. “But with her mother and her, it’s all work. When it’s not the job, it’s straightening up the house, doing the washing, discussing how much can we afford for food this week …and all that.”

He spotted a live oak on the slope near the water with a ring of shade underneath.

“Now, Molly’s mom and dad aren’t like that," he said to himself, thinking of his new Dallas friends, the Corcoran family. "Why didn’t we meet in Carolina? That new Victrola thing is really something, isn’t it? I’ll even know how to dance a little in a while. What would Sallie say to that?”

But he knew she would say they had to save their money. “It’s too bad about Winnie, though. I should have been there…”

4

A hundred years later, his grandson Byron, as an old man, tried to imagine what it had been like for his grandfather Wallace Decker in those days. Why had he left his wife and family in Charleston to look for work way out in Dallas anyway? Was he already restless? Looking for something new? Or were the opportunities in old Charleston really that limited? Or had he already been in some kind of trouble?

It didn’t seem right in the first place for him to have left his one-year-old son (odd-ball “Uncle Newt”) back in Charleston. Then before six months had passed, Wallace had started cheating on Sallie with a mere girl out in Dallas. No, not right.

Byron remembered sitting on the living room couch twenty years ago with his Dad, Evan Decker - Sallie’s last surviving child - when he first saw the old letters that showed how much Evan's father Wallace had failed to live up to the common decencies that Byron knew his Dad himself had always considered so important. Evan Decker rarely showed emotion, even to Byron his only son. At that moment, though, it was obvious how bad he felt.

5

Dearie

Last night was the best night of my life. I’ll never forget it. I wish you could come back tonight but we have to go to a supper at the church.

I hope you can think of another excuse for us to go off alone.

I love you!

Molly

*

My Dearest Husband Wallace

We are all looking forward to having you back with us again soon, at least for a little while. It’s mostly me of course who is eager to see you again. I wish we could meet you at the station but of course we can’t be sure when your train will arrive.

Mr. Wood the printer was going by this morning and looked in to say Hello. “How’s Wally?” he said. It sounded so funny, him calling you that. Did the other men at work call you that? Does Mr. Isaacs?

I guess I’d better help Mama get supper. I think about you all the time. I hope you make all your train connections all right, without too many delays.

Your Loving Sallie

6

By the time he reached Atlanta at the end of what was scheduled to be a three-day journey, he was running six hours late. But all that meant was that he had only an hour or so to spend in the station. He sought out the shoe shine stand. He knew Sallie would have preferred to do that for him, but he paid the 25 cents anyway. He wanted to look respectable… and to have people treat him like a somebody. Altogether, after all, he still had almost $11.00 to give to Sallie and her mother.

He had dinner with the Corcorans – and Molly, of course – once or twice a week now. They wouldn’t hear of his pitching in… so he'd been able to save up.

He realized he was looking forward to seeing Sallie and little Newt more and more as the time and the miles went by. It surprised him a little that he felt that way. And they would be coming out to join him in Texas before too long, wouldn’t they? Betty would be pressing him to find them somewhere to stay, Sallie would say somewhere near the shops where she could find work.

He paid the colored boy for the shine. “Yassir, sir. Yassir,” he said bouncing his head down each time.

“That’s all right, boy,” he nodded as he strode through the lobby. Maybe he’d pick up a little flower for his lapel when they pulled in at the Charleston station.

*

For her part, to be honest, Sallie didn’t seem to have time to think about anything. She found herself thinking about her baby all the while as she was working. And that naturally involved her mother Betty in her thoughts. But until the last couple of days, she didn’t find herself thinking much at all about Wallace out there in Texas. And now she couldn’t think of much else.She and her mother Betty were busy cleaning and straightening things up in the house. They had decided to move the baby’s crib into Mama Betty’s room the morning of the day Wallace would return. Gosh, if he didn’t get in that day after all, she didn’t know if she could stand it!

7

Later, in their little Dallas apartment, little Newt was beginning to talk pretty well even though he was barely two. Like Sallie, Betty remembered. “Gramma,” he said now pulling at her skirt as he stood there a little unsteadily. “Gramma, why Mommy cry?”

Sallie didn’t seem to be able to stop weeping the last couple of days. Even while she was nursing the new baby, as she was doing now, she couldn’t stop. Why had they named him 'Evan'? she wondered. Well, at least it wasn’t Wallace junior. They would have to go to a judge now, she thought, if they had, and change it.

“Gramma,” the toddler insisted.

“She’ll be fine,” Betty said leaning over to hug him and stroke the back of his head. “You’ll see.” She knew Sallie was strong-willed. She’d keep a-goin’ as she had said when Winnie died. That damned bastard had given that young tart a child a full month before he visited them in Charleston that one time. Little Evan was on the way when he left. That’s what hurt the most. They would never have had to leave her house in Charleston! Her anger rose up into her throat and her face felt hot, but she heard Sallie coming out of her bedroom and turned back to the stove.

“How is the little one getting on?” she asked.

8

The judge granting the divorce said it was customary for divorcees to be prohibited from remarrying for a year. Wallace knew Mr. Corcoran, Molly's dad, wouldn’t like that. He’d show the old man the divorce papers when he got them, rather than telling them now. After all, how could he remember details at a time like that?

He and Molly would get married all right, first thing they could. He’d start now taking care of the baby and Molly, since he was out of Sallie’s life altogether. It'd be wrong not to, wouldn't it? He wasn't that kind of a man, was he? Maybe she could go to Ft. Worth to have the baby. No one would have to know. He felt another thrust of regret, was it shame? Think about Molly, he told himself.

Could they name Molly's baby “Wallace junior”? he wondered.

9

Well, at least Wallace and that low-life girl had left Dallas by then, two years after the divorce. They had eloped to Ft. Worth, it said in the newspaper at the time, and now they had gone off somewhere North. Her mother and the boys were doing okay. She had a pretty good job in that big store downtown. She could even walk to work each morning.

She was on her way now, in fact, striding purposefully through the heat and damp air. They could start rebuilding their life together. She could count on Mama, couldn’t she? They had a decent, affordable apartment on Plum Street. The boys could help out in a few years… Lots of boys had part-time work by the time they were six. She'd talk with Marybeth next time she stopped in at the ladies’ garments. Marybeth worked at the Evening News. They had boys… Newt would be six next year.

Soon, she told herself, I won’t worry about running into that Wallace out here on the street. Thinking of his name made her burn...

10

Mama Betty knew everyone. When she told you that family who lived in the modest, well-kept house across Plum Street was a good family, and the father owned a good business, you could count on that. Somebody in the rooming house would know. Sometimes, when Sallie was walking by the house on her way to work, a young man would nod to her as he came out of the house. After a while he started saying,“Good morning.” She nodded, and later she smiled a little.

Eventually he introduced himself. Jack Davis was his name (as Betty had said before). His father Abe Davis ran a well-known tool and die shop down by the railroad line, four blocks away. Sallie wondered if that was where Jack was headed, even though she had to walk almost in the opposite direction and he accompanied her most of the way.

This was four years after that bum Wallace had walked out. She didn’t think of him much nowadays, and never wondered anymore if she might run into him on the streets. She started to wonder, though, if she might run into Jack Davis.

He liked children, he said. And in a year, Sallie became Mrs. Sallie (Sarah, actually) Decker Davis. At Sallie’s request, after the ceremony in Ft. Worth, he moved in with Betty and the boys, there on Plum Street across from his dad's house.

11

By the time Newt was eight and Evan almost five, a year after they had gotten a new Daddy, they were already becoming the best team of newsboys in downtown Dallas. Evan had the spot outside the door where his Mom Sallie worked, but he didn’t pay any attention. He liked calling out, “Paper. Get your paper here!” and exchanging a few words with the men in the suits who gave him a coin or two when he offered them a paper. He put the Evening News’s money in the canvas belt they'd issued to him, and he put his own tips in his pants pocket. Newt had always done it that way, so Evan did too.

The wagon brought the boys one edition of the paper at noon. Newt called it “the bulldog.” Then around four o'clock, the next edition was delivered. The boys spent the time in-between in the grand public library down the street. Newt, Evan marveled, could shout out the words in the big print, although sometimes he forgot and said the Bulldog words instead of the later-edition ones. Not often, Evan admitted to himself, but he could still tease his big brother, couldn’t he?

In the library Evan mainly spent his time looking at the pictures in the children’s section. He made up stories to fit the pictures. Sometimes, quietly over in a deserted corner, Newt would read one of those books to Evan. He didn’t know all the words but he did pretty well.

Newt got to go to school in the mornings. Evan stayed with Gramma until 11:30.

Mom would walk home with them around six-thirty, and after supper they would compare the money in their pants pockets. Newt always had a lot more.

12

I’m sorry, Gramma Betty said to herself as she swept up, but that man Jack's going downhill. It’s Sallie’s lookout but it affects us all. The boys see it, I know. They look so glum now when they come in for supper. They used to be teasing each other and laughing, so glad to be home. They would run over to their Gramma and give her a big hug.

Now, especially when their Mom was with them, so tired from being on her feet all day, everyone was quiet, not so affectionate anymore.

And that Davis man was the reason. Gramma Betty thought he might have started drinking.

Four years after the wedding, over there in Ft. Worth, it had really gotten bad. Jack Davis quarreled with the boys all the time, over things that didn’t matter, like where they left their jackets, or their books. Sallie tried to defend them. Betty herself pitched in. But he was getting worse, not better. Was he drinking while he was out?

It was good when he was away – they could be a real family again – but when he came back, he always seemed to be looking for a fight. It seemed as though Sallie was not getting the invitation to go across the street with her in-laws as often as before either. When Betty would ask about them, Davis didn’t seem interested.

Maybe the elder Davises were having trouble with him too, and they didn’t want to spend much time together. That was another bad sign.

The arguments with Sallie got worse. Everyone – Gramma Betty, both boys – everyone could hear them quarreling in their bedroom. Almost every night. How could anyone get relaxed enough for bed with that going on? It hurt the boys most of all.

Finally, he hit Sallie. She ordered him out and threw his jacket and hat down the stairs. Betty packed up his things the next morning and took them over to his mother. Old Mrs. Davis wasn’t angry. She didn’t look happy, of course. Who would?

The divorce papers – six years after the marriage – granted Sallie Decker Davis's petition, on the grounds of “cruel treatment.”

By the time Newt was fifteen and Evan thirteen, three years after that bad Daddy Jack Davis had moved back in with his parents, their beloved Gramma passed away. She hadn’t been herself in the last year or so, gradually losing her short-term memory. She'd remained the same tough and loving Mama and Gramma she’d always been. But by the end she could not recall the boys’ names, and she didn’t know exactly who Sallie was. A sister maybe…?

Afterwards, Sallie had bought a little house on Royal Circle in a different part of town, and she got work in a real fancy department store only five or six blocks away. The boys kept their afternoon newspaper sales territories. One of the ladies at the Evening Edition, Marybeth, kind of looked after them after school. And then, they’d added evening paper routes to all the houses and boarding houses along the way between the big boulevard and the streets there and the railroad tracks four blocks on the other side of their own neat little house on Royal Circle.

Their Mom’s new girlfriend, Billie Mae, who lived in the front bedroom, would usually be helping out in the kitchen when the boys got home for supper. They were like sisters in only a few months. Billie Mae worked downtown too, as a secretary. She was seeing someone she called "I. O."

Their mother was almost her old self again. They all missed Gramma, but Mom seemed happy and energetic again. With a little help from Billie Mae, she took good care of them herself now….

14

And then, she died. Sarah (Sallie) Williamson Decker Davis was gone.

The biggest outbreak of the 1918 Flu in Dallas and Ft. Worth had come in the spring, but Sallie wasn't hit till the end of December, ten months after her mother Betty had died. Sallie wasn't yet 40. It wasn’t any use sending her to a clinic or a hospital, as Billie Mae told the boys when she came in to take care of their mother as best she could. The hospitals were still over-crowded, with doctors and nurses having been taken off themselves. And so many folks were still dying.

Billie Mae was married now and lived across the street with her husband Mr. Forrester (she called him "I. O.").

The boys were scared. But when Sallie was not sleeping or having a bad episode of fever, she seemed sure she could survive. Look what she’d lived through up to now, she must have thought. Billie Mae told her not to worry about the boys or the house, but just work on getting well.

But then, on December 26, she was gone, like so many others. A doctor or somebody else they didn’t know came by. It fell to Newt – who was only sixteen – to sign the death certificate. It said the cause of death was pneumonia. Evan looked it over and wondered about… lots of things.

15

They boys didn't stop going to school and selling the newspapers. They fixed their own meals, after Billie Mae got them started. It turned out that Billie Mae’s husband Irv Oscar Forrester (or I. O.) had told a judge he would act as the boys’ guardian. Their Mom Sallie had bought some life insurance when she closed the deal on the Royal Circle house, which helped pay off the mortgage.

With I. O.’s help they fixed up the garage with one apartment for themselves upstairs and another downstairs to rent out. They rented the house to a family, so they were actually able to start saving for college. An old bachelor reporter at the Evening News took the downstairs apartment.

They never saw their father, Wallace Decker, never heard from him. The bank with their savings in it crashed in 1919, so they lost everything. Newt worked full-time at the Evening News as Evan finished his last two years of high school, and in 1921, they were able to sell the house and go off to Texas A & M together. To make ends meet, both of them had two, and sometimes three, part-time jobs while in school.

They realized they’d learned a lot from Gramma Betty and their Mom Sallie. They thought they could manage.

***