Chapter Seven - A Life; The Rise of Jenna
In spite of sworn, public statements otherwise, Lex had always been a personally ambitious man. That ambition was clear among those closest to him. Such an ambition would, in time, provide a bit of resentment among friends and family, but he would hear nothing of that, brushing off personal and professional concerns with an attitude resembling indifference. He was indeed aware of such concerns. He simply loved being a part of the process, and he could not, and would not, understand those who may put their own interests above those of his – even his own kids, friends, colleagues, and anyone else.
Lex was sworn in as Mayor of Gomer after a whirlwind campaign, with only token opposition from a local dry goods salesman who would go on to found Ohio’s first branch of the John Birch Society in the late 1950’s. Lex’s election as Mayor was seen as the opening of a door to all children of immigrants, and before long, Gomer’s civic life was the cornucopia its founders had imagined. Lex was feted as Gomer's contribution to America.
The fathers of Ohio at the time kept an eye on Lex. They saw him single-handedly raise the stock of Senator VanderWall before the war; and they asked what Lex wanted in return. Lex asked for nothing, but was indeed offered a chance to make a good life for his family, and also a chance to stoke the fires of his own ambition. By 1950, the mayor was the owner of a successful business. He had the ears of both of Ohio’s Senators, as well as de facto ownership of several state legislators.
But Lex was a benevolent king; he knew of political machines in other locales and in other parts of the country; where people traded other people and lived in a true quid-pro-quo. Lex wasn’t that way; as long as Gomer remained on the desks of those in decision, then he was happy. Over time, Lex used his connections to fund the construction of a clinic associated with the law school at UNO, he cajoled the President of a large cereal company[1] into donating land and materials for the creation of a “School of Public Service and Policy”, also at UNO, and there was a Kasner wing (Oncology) at Gomer’s hospital, because of Lex’s terrific donation to those doctors, once they cured Jenna’s grandmother of a very manageable – yet nerve wracking to be sure- bout of cancer in the early 1980’s. This was the world Lex was in. He had worked himself up the civic ladder of influence to a degree that he always suspected he would, even if he was the only one thinking so.
Lex came to believe in the idea that all public lives end in disappointment. His was no different. As he had seen as a young man, even the permanent FDR would pass, and there would become new people who then make the great decisions of state. As Lex aged, he would think often of that time, of quickly returned calls and trips all over the state, country, and world. They were Lex’s “salad days”, and he missed them.
Although generally accepting of his retirement, he missed being the Big Man in Gomer. There were new people for Senators and high-rollers to call on; the time had passed. A few times a year, Lex would receive a phone-call from Nate VanderWall – Congressman and great-nephew of Lex’s good friend Senator VanderWall[2]. These calls, although of genuine affection, were different than those Lex had fielded in his younger years, years he would think of often.
“Do you remember when Miller…..”
“Jennifer, look at this, it is a thank-you note from President Truman…..”
“I tell you, that lawyer, from—from Chicago--- why, I showed him the door!”
Jenna’s father heard these stories and was reminded of an absent dad, who felt his work to be of the highest importance, even more important than being at home. Jenna heard these same tales, and she saw her grandfather speak of people not too different than herself. She saw a place at the table for herself. She was the great-granddaughter of Gomer’s first family, and one day, there should be more stories. Lex's own children left the congregation as soon as they were old enough to leave home. Jenna's return confirmed much to Lex; he was her granddaughter. With that simple act, Jenna completed the circle that Fritz and Frieda Kasner started all those years back, before they spoke English, before Europe exploded, before two wars woke the sleeping giant of America.
Lex’s ambition for Jenna was as much for her, as it was for him, and it started when she was no more than a toddler. He would guide her and he would prepare her, train her, to carry and to understand the world that he – Lex – and few others truly knew. He felt a duty to her, to shape a little of her mind and a little of her talents. He would give a few secrets to her – and then he would let her go.
Jenna, though she wouldn't know it until her own adulthood, had become the inheritor. Such an inheritance would mature early in her, while a young student. Her youth was reasonable, predictable, and indeed, creative. It was as a girl, listening to her grandfather’s stories of his own efforts, that she labeled herself an actor, and not an observer. At the age of nine, she argued with her third grade teacher in favor of a continued US presence in South Korea. She implied strongly to the Gomer City Council, that there would be upheaval in the streets, were that august body vote to rezone a special parcel of land against the interests of conservation and the “Green Gomer” initiative[3]. She was strong in her opinions, but not hesitant to abandon them in favor of better evidence to the contrary. Such an approach suggested a touch of maturity. That was a diplomacy that her grandfather, in spite of his success, never quite learned.
Jenna was seventeen when she left for school, following her grandfather into a life of civics. It was no coincidence that her first days at college were spent at the University of Northern Ohio, where more than one department owed its solvency to the elder Kasner. Inching toward retirement, Lex routinely showed a bit of his world to his young granddaughter. He was as generous with her as he was demanding of his own children and colleagues, and quickly – early – she began to realize the impact that Lex indeed once had. As a young girl, he let her sit next to him, in his massive office, while he took a call from the newly-retired President Nixon – whom he called by his first name. Jenna was old enough to know who Anwar Sadat was, when Lex attended the fallen leader’s funeral. Lex was pulled away from his wife’s sickbed days after Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait; that did not go over well, but Nana didn’t seem to mind. As a younger family man, Lex’s children stopped asking questions about his routine absences, and they learned to submit to their own irritation. They would learn, very early on, that such questions, if addressed at all, would be answered with a joke or a play on words. They knew that their grandmother couldn’t be bothered by such questions either, and they also knew that she was a tight-lipped as her husband. Among the uninitiated, Lex called himself an ‘infrastructure developer’, and said very little else. Except, of course, to Jenna.
As a small girl Jenna hung on her grandparents. They represented an interesting world to her curious mind, teaching her sentences in rare and old, languages, treating her to all the attention a small child would deserve. They let her borrow grown-up books from their massive collection. Nana Kasner once taught her how to play the Star-Spangled Banner on piano. Jenna’s parents loved these days she would spend running all over hell with her grandparents, chiefly for the privacy it gave the younger Kasner family. And without fail, she would come home happy, and exhausted.
She kept fond memories of these days. Well into adulthood, one most unique instance stood out, with precisely no explanation. On one of their regular drives about town, Lex took Jenna into the country – to a parcel of land north of town. There was little on the horizon, but for a few dozen buildings and a grey atmosphere. Lex, however, was quite animated to his little kin.
“Jenna – it is here, that we will build a place for all the farmers to work, when they are done farming.”
“What will they do here, Papa?”
“People will make machines, that make bigger machines! More people will sit in rooms and draw pictures, that will become houses for your Papa and Nana and your Mom and Dad and you!”
“How will they know what to draw?”
“Because Jenna, when they are old, when they are eighteen years old and all done with school, they will take a little more school, and become very, very smart!”
“After sixth grade?”
“Oh yes. And then people will come here, everyone will clap for them, and they will be ready to go!!”
“Which people will clap?”
“All of the town. Your Mom and Dad, your Nana and Papa, and all your friends. They will come here just for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes!”
“I will go here too?”
“Yes! You will!”
“I will?”
“Of course you will. You are a Kasner!”
“Papa?”
“Yes?”
“What do they do here now?”
“Jenna, you ask lots of questions, don’t you?”
“I do?”
“Yes, you do!”
They arrived at one of very few buildings in this area. It was a non-descript structure, painted beige, with a chain-link fence around it. Jenna, quite a literate child, read the sign on the entrance out loud.
“Department of Conservation Security -Visitors Please Register At Desk.”
Lex slowed down, and waved to the guard. Jenna waved too, and leaned over her grandfather, to see the neat little building in which this man was standing. It was a “Jenna-sized House.”
“Hello Mayor. Good to see you again.”
“You too, Bill!” said Lex.
“Bye, Bill!” said Jenna.
The gate opened. Jenna did notice it close behind them.
“You are not a visitor.” said Jenna.
“That’s right. But you are, my dear!!”
Lex smiled, and patted her head.
“Visitors are special.” Thought Jenna. “They get to come here with Papa.”
Lex drove on, passing several non-descript beige buildings. Jenna kept close watch on the events outside their car. A man and woman came out of one of the buildings – Jenna waved, but the two people did not wave back.
“They must be very busy.” Jenna thought.
Jenna’s eager persona noticed everything- open gate-Bill said hello – house for backyard-sign that says B U M P – building with busy people they did not wave – more buildings – we are slowing down – must look out window-
She was ecstatic. Her youthful stamina assured her that this day, with her Papa, was simply perfect.
“Jenna – we are there!” Said Lex as they drove slowly up to what must have been the third or fourth beige building. To Jenna’s amazement, Lex pulled a small device from in-between their car seats, simply pressed a button, and – even without Bill’s assistance – a car-sized door…opened. Just for them.
Lex kept driving. Jenna had been in a building like this, once, when they were in Chicago, but there were not any other cars around. Lex drove slowly, and encouraged her to turn on the radio (something her Mom did not let her do.) She did not hear pop music, she did not hear any music – she heard people talking to each other. They were speaking in short, clipped sentences – words she did not understand. Alpha? Bravo? Charlie? She had playmate named Charlie. She said his name out loud.
Lex said, “Those people talking are my friends, and we are going to see them in just a moment. They are glad to see you!”
“OK OK.” Said Jenna.
The car stopped, and the Kasners dismounted. Jenna knew – she could feel that she and her grandfather were going to go straight to the beige elevator door, perhaps only a few feet. Lex could barely contain her, but when he asked to behave and hold onto his coat, she did. Jenna would be proved right. She wanted to press the elevator button – her Dad let her do this at work.
“Can I?”
“Yes! Press the button!” – then he winked.
As she started to tell Lex that there was no button, the elevator car door opened, and they walked in. Surely there had to be a button inside the elevator to press. Lex saw her disappointment. She pressed the button on her own jacket-cuffs instead. That worked – she could feel elevator car move. And soon, this door opened, too.
At once, Jenna and Lex were no longer alone. The elevator door opened into noise, into people, into a sea of people walking and wandering, each with clearly something very important to do. They walked past doors; they walked past people, all of whom dressed just alike, but some of them had different colored buttons on their shirts, and stripes on their skirts. They did not say hello to Lex, which confused Jenna – everyone says hello to Lex – the people downtown, the people at the Shul, Bill – just a moment ago – that is what people do! She would not fret long.
“We’re here!” said Lex, opening a glass door for her. “Go ahead, honey.”
If her grandfather told her to do something, she did it! Bounding through the open door, she saw another man. This man did not have a blue suit with stripes on it. He was dressed like her Dad or her Grandpa might when they go to a restaurant. Jenna kept running, to this man’s desk. Her confidence rested solely upon the fact that she could hear Lex walking up quickly behind her.
“You must be Jenna!” said the man.
“Yes” said Jenna.
Her confidence immediately turned into vapor, and she turned around quickly, looking for Lex’s coat to grab onto. Of course, Lex and his coat were right there.
“Hi Lex – how are you today?”
“Mighty fine, Brian, mighty fine.”
They kept walking, behind this new Brian, behind other people dressed like Jenna’s dad, until Lex stopped at a room with a brown door, different only from the other brown doors among the hallway, by the number stenciled above - 1918. Like the elevator, there were no buttons to press. Like the elevator, the door opened. This time, Lex went in first. Far from Jenna to be afraid, but she walked with a bit of angst, as she knew that they had arrived at wherever they had left for. Any fear she had, however, disappeared when Lex turned on the light, smiled, and motioned for her to follow him.
Jenna immediately recognized the room as one of the sort her mother took her to every week. There were bookshelves along the walls; magazines littered on end tables that set next to two small couches, between which was a coffee table, covered in typed paper. Jenna ran to the back of the room, where she saw a full-sized desk. On that desk sat a wooden sign, with her grandfathers’ name in big letters. She smiled when she saw them. Underneath, in smaller letters, were two words she could read, but didn’t understand – Infrastructure Developer.
“Papa!”
“Yes, dear?”
“How come you have a library?”
“Because a Kasner needs a library!”
“Me too?”
“Yes, dear, you too!”
Jenna’s mind remained occupied for hours, in fact, days. Lex would mutter aloud as he cleared this paper from his desk, and he would speak into a machine, telling someone to write a letter or take a minute. Although she had never been there before, the mood of the room was so familiar, and of course, her Papa was guiding her. She noticed that there were no windows in the library, except for the one on the door, the door with 1918 written on top it. She wondered if Brian or Bill would open this door for them, or if this too, did not need a button. These were the things she would ask Papa just as soon as he was done with the letter-minute-machine. Oh, there were many things to think about.
Jenna woke up with the feel of her grandfather’s knit coat at her cheek, her small shoes next to the couch on which she had fallen asleep.
“Papa is here” she thought. She was reassured that everything was good, safe and sound.
She was very right! At that time, seeing his granddaughter start to move, Lex suggested to her that now, right now, was the best time for her to rejoin him, and that as soon as she picked out a book – to take with her from the Library – then they would go to Nana.
“Can we come back to the library?”
“May be, Jenna.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Oh, my dear! Not tomorrow. Tomorrow your Nana and I take you back home to Mommy and Dad so you can be ready for school on Monday!”
“OK” said Jenna.
The book she picked out was an original French edition of Babar.
“Jenna, the girl with so many questions?”
“Yes Papa”
“Do you want to know something you must keep secret?”
“May be.”
“Very good – then come with me.”
Lex scooped up his granddaughter in one arm, turned the lights off with the other, and the two exited this library, walking not in the direction of the exit, but toward a noticeable hum, that unnerved the little girl. To be sure, one could not worry very much among Papa, and even less so with Babar. Her eyes focused on where the red, green, and yellow stripes were pointed to on the floor. She remembered that the people in the blue suits had these colors on their badges, but she did not. As far as she could tell, her Papa didn’t either.
As they walked, they came to a hallway, to which these stripes did not lead. The red and green went toward her Papa arm, and the yellow went to her Babar arm. Even so, Lex kept walking. There were doors every few steps, but these did not have 1918 written above them. She held her grandfather tightly.
After many long moments, they stopped against a wooden desk. There was no man at this desk, as there had been when they arrived with Papa’s friend – and her friend. Here, there was only a console that looked like a very small color television. Lex spoke to it – all he said was their last name, which relaxed Jenna, and she smiled at her grandfather. She heard a chime, at which point Lex began walking again.
Lex said: “My dear, we are going to a new library.”
Seconds later, they stood before a door – with a button – with a marking Jenna did not understand.
“Papa’s friends do not know how to spell.” She thought, while scouring her young memory for something akin to this strange word, this “C O N B O X.”
Lex and Jenna entered this new library. This was not like the nice, comfortable room her Papa took her to for her nap and her book. She was reminded of when she went to the Doctor with her Dad – they had to wait, and wait, in a small room – with nothing but a machine on the wall that no one could touch, not her Dad, not Papa, not Jenna, only the Doctor. Oh, the troublesome day that was. Such was the sort of room she was in now, machine included. But Papa did touch the machine. He took hold of a hook on the wall, held it with one hand while inserting a shiny piece of metal into a plug on the bottom. When he did that, out came more from this box! Jenna heard the same sound – a fan – that used to come on when she would press the wrong switch in her parents’ bathroom. But this stayed on, and on. It got louder, growing into a real nuisance – enough to force her into a confused look to her grandfather. She could hear clicks from inside the box, and noticed a special scent that she could not recognize.
“This will take only a moment more, dear girl.”
She stared at her grandfather with her mouth wide open!
Lex placed his left hand on the machine, and reached over the table to touch her shoulder. He winked at her – and seconds later, the noise stopped.
He opened this box, and it became clear to his young granddaughter that something was inside – she could see it. He took out two pieces, each connected to the inside of the box by thin wires. Each piece fit comfortably in Lex’s hands. These parts reminded Jenna of her father’s tools; wood, metal, and cords, and she knew that she should not touch such things – she might break them, or they might break her. These were not for her small hands, and she was scared. Lex, of course, thought he knew how to assuage her nerves.
“My dear girl, you have grown up! You are five years old, and you will never be five again!”
Sensing he had worried her – forgetting that she might enjoy being five, Lex continued:
“Soon, you will be six. That is five-extra. And soon after that, when it is time, seven – very big! So today I want to show you a story about your Papa and your Nana, about where we came from – how is that for you today?”
“OK”
He smiled at her, winked, invoking the memory of the regal Kasners – of Europe and now Ohio – he said:
“You, like the Kasners of old, ask questions. This is how everyone should be! You see, my dear, you are special, and you must ask more questions. And when someone asks you a question, you must answer with another question. Do you understand?”
“Do you understand?” asked Jenna.
“Good girl!” said Lex.
He continued.
“Jenna, this small box, with the wires, will help you ask more questions. I want you to think of a question.”
“OK”
Lex took each of Jenna’s hands into his own, and gently aided her, to take ahold of the wooden and metal pieces, connected by wires to the box. Jenna stared directly at these new tools. The pieces looked similar to an extent; each made of brown, seasoned wood. Jenna saw a place her grandfather’s fingers could hold this machine tight. Her grandfather motioned for her to do so.
“You hold that one up to your mouth and the other one up to your ear, Jenna!”
“Like the telephone.”
“Yes!”
Jenna did so, and looked straight at her grandfather. Although an exceptionally bright child, her attention span was very similar to that of other five year olds. She may have rolled her eyes at Lex. The amazement of the library had long since passed out of her mind, and she was fidgety.
Lex said “Jenna, do you have a question?”
At once, she snapped out of her ennui, and smiled broadly.
“Yes!”
“Now, dear girl, you can ask a question into this box! Hold that one tight against your ear – this one to your mouth – and ask!”
Jenna shut her eyes in thought, her brow wrinkled. Her little hands held the machine’s handles tightly. She took Lex’s admonition quite seriously, and would not – under any circumstances – ask this question until it was just perfect. Lex understood this about her. He had decided to ‘take his granddaughter to work’, in the hope that such a quick observation in her mind, might raise more questions, than her own instant effort would answer.
“Have you got it, little girl?”
Jenna, quite ready, spoke immediately into the piece in her right hand.
“Where is mama?”
The fan she heard before kicked in, and she was again reminded, of her parents’ bathroom. A small red and yellow light alternated upon the box itself. Lex realized quickly, that in his vigor to open Jenna’s mind, he hadn’t been graceful enough to guide her into the question she might ask. Nonetheless…
Jenna snapped to attention and her eyes zeroed in on her grandfather. She could hear noise through the box her small hand held to her ear. Voices, many of which she could not understand. Like how Papa and Nana talk at supper!
One voice stood out, woman’s voice.
“What?” said Jenna into the device. Lex smiled. His granddaughter was starting to hear.
She held the earpiece close. The voices made themselves into a pattern, and from that pattern, she found the first hints of words she knew. She heard a name her grandfather had routinely mentioned, but she could not remember when.
“Where is Mama?” her question was repeated by this new person to hear; she continued in a clear, if slightly stilted voice, ”I am Frieda Kasner.”
“I was born in Düsseldorf in 1890. My husband, Fritz and I came to the United States in 1916, and not long after that our son Alexis was born. Our daughter Aggie was born in 1920. She lived until 1922.
“Papa!” Jenna asked – loudly. “Who is this?”
”Fritz and I lived until 1955.” said the voice, Frieda.
“We made our home in the state of Ohio…..”
“PAPA.” Said Jenna. Loudly. “ Who is this?”
“My dear, that is my Mama. Not yours. But you have heard her, haven’t you?”
“YES.”
“So then it is just fine. I am so sorry, dear girl. You asked where your Mama is – not mine. But your Mama is on the way to your house and she will be home tomorrow! I will take you to her in the morning. But now you know another person don’t you?”
“Yes I do.”
“Do you think you might have another question for my Mama, or for anyone else, from time to time?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Even when you are eighteen, or twenty or thirty?”
“I am five.”
“But you will soon be five plus one!”
“Papa. Even then too. And eighteen and twenty.”
“Good, little girl. Then you have had a full day! Do you mind if we visit Dairy King on the way to Nana?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, you mind?”
“Papa! I don’t mind.”
Lex smiled broadly. He would never take Jenna back to this library, indeed, they would not speak of this day again to each other. He had given her much to think about, but she should not do so again today. He put her little hand in his, as they made their exit. They walked through the door, with no button, toward more doors with no buttons. Lex did not want to burden Jenna with too many details. His work was done.
“Jenna”
“Yes?”
“We are going to get in the car! Can you sing me your song on our way there?”
“Yes!”
“Sing it to me now!”
“Papa.” said the exasperated child – she was getting into the part – “I will.”
Thirty feet later, as they walked down another beige hall with numbered doors, Jenna sang,
“I love you
a bushel and a peck
a bushel and a peck
and a hug around the neck
a hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap
you bet your pretty neck I do.”
This man, Lex Kasner, was very proud of his granddaughter, and would remain so for the years into her adult life, and into the end of his own. He was very happy. Were he a more effusive man, he may have even sung along with her!
[1] A man who would later become the boss of Porto Jr.
[2] Who did not run for re-election in 1976. VanderWall had headed up “Democrats for Nixon” in 1968, formally switching parties in 1969 after winning in 1964 with over 60 percent of Ohio’s votes. His close association with Nixon, crippled him politically. Very well respected nonetheless, VanderWall was named Ambassador to NATO by President Ford in 1974, returning to Ohio in 1977 at the end of that Administration. In spite of the loss, VanderWall was widely expected to re-take his old seat in the Republican year of 1980 when the incumbent Senator- also a friend of Lex’s- appeared very vulnerable. Adding to the VanderWall legend, when asked if he would run, his only comment regarding his replacement in the Senate was “He’s doing a good job considering the position the country’s in. We should let him have a chance to help govern”. Senator Doug Wassemiller was narrowly re-elected, with 51 percent in 1980. Wassemiller would be grateful enough to the family for that gesture, using his influence in the party to allow only token Democratic opposition to the younger VanderWall’s candidacy for Congress in 1988.
[3] In fact, her beloved grandfather opposed such an initiative. But he loved seeing her in his old haunts, in the arena.
Lex was sworn in as Mayor of Gomer after a whirlwind campaign, with only token opposition from a local dry goods salesman who would go on to found Ohio’s first branch of the John Birch Society in the late 1950’s. Lex’s election as Mayor was seen as the opening of a door to all children of immigrants, and before long, Gomer’s civic life was the cornucopia its founders had imagined. Lex was feted as Gomer's contribution to America.
The fathers of Ohio at the time kept an eye on Lex. They saw him single-handedly raise the stock of Senator VanderWall before the war; and they asked what Lex wanted in return. Lex asked for nothing, but was indeed offered a chance to make a good life for his family, and also a chance to stoke the fires of his own ambition. By 1950, the mayor was the owner of a successful business. He had the ears of both of Ohio’s Senators, as well as de facto ownership of several state legislators.
But Lex was a benevolent king; he knew of political machines in other locales and in other parts of the country; where people traded other people and lived in a true quid-pro-quo. Lex wasn’t that way; as long as Gomer remained on the desks of those in decision, then he was happy. Over time, Lex used his connections to fund the construction of a clinic associated with the law school at UNO, he cajoled the President of a large cereal company[1] into donating land and materials for the creation of a “School of Public Service and Policy”, also at UNO, and there was a Kasner wing (Oncology) at Gomer’s hospital, because of Lex’s terrific donation to those doctors, once they cured Jenna’s grandmother of a very manageable – yet nerve wracking to be sure- bout of cancer in the early 1980’s. This was the world Lex was in. He had worked himself up the civic ladder of influence to a degree that he always suspected he would, even if he was the only one thinking so.
Lex came to believe in the idea that all public lives end in disappointment. His was no different. As he had seen as a young man, even the permanent FDR would pass, and there would become new people who then make the great decisions of state. As Lex aged, he would think often of that time, of quickly returned calls and trips all over the state, country, and world. They were Lex’s “salad days”, and he missed them.
Although generally accepting of his retirement, he missed being the Big Man in Gomer. There were new people for Senators and high-rollers to call on; the time had passed. A few times a year, Lex would receive a phone-call from Nate VanderWall – Congressman and great-nephew of Lex’s good friend Senator VanderWall[2]. These calls, although of genuine affection, were different than those Lex had fielded in his younger years, years he would think of often.
“Do you remember when Miller…..”
“Jennifer, look at this, it is a thank-you note from President Truman…..”
“I tell you, that lawyer, from—from Chicago--- why, I showed him the door!”
Jenna’s father heard these stories and was reminded of an absent dad, who felt his work to be of the highest importance, even more important than being at home. Jenna heard these same tales, and she saw her grandfather speak of people not too different than herself. She saw a place at the table for herself. She was the great-granddaughter of Gomer’s first family, and one day, there should be more stories. Lex's own children left the congregation as soon as they were old enough to leave home. Jenna's return confirmed much to Lex; he was her granddaughter. With that simple act, Jenna completed the circle that Fritz and Frieda Kasner started all those years back, before they spoke English, before Europe exploded, before two wars woke the sleeping giant of America.
Lex’s ambition for Jenna was as much for her, as it was for him, and it started when she was no more than a toddler. He would guide her and he would prepare her, train her, to carry and to understand the world that he – Lex – and few others truly knew. He felt a duty to her, to shape a little of her mind and a little of her talents. He would give a few secrets to her – and then he would let her go.
Jenna, though she wouldn't know it until her own adulthood, had become the inheritor. Such an inheritance would mature early in her, while a young student. Her youth was reasonable, predictable, and indeed, creative. It was as a girl, listening to her grandfather’s stories of his own efforts, that she labeled herself an actor, and not an observer. At the age of nine, she argued with her third grade teacher in favor of a continued US presence in South Korea. She implied strongly to the Gomer City Council, that there would be upheaval in the streets, were that august body vote to rezone a special parcel of land against the interests of conservation and the “Green Gomer” initiative[3]. She was strong in her opinions, but not hesitant to abandon them in favor of better evidence to the contrary. Such an approach suggested a touch of maturity. That was a diplomacy that her grandfather, in spite of his success, never quite learned.
Jenna was seventeen when she left for school, following her grandfather into a life of civics. It was no coincidence that her first days at college were spent at the University of Northern Ohio, where more than one department owed its solvency to the elder Kasner. Inching toward retirement, Lex routinely showed a bit of his world to his young granddaughter. He was as generous with her as he was demanding of his own children and colleagues, and quickly – early – she began to realize the impact that Lex indeed once had. As a young girl, he let her sit next to him, in his massive office, while he took a call from the newly-retired President Nixon – whom he called by his first name. Jenna was old enough to know who Anwar Sadat was, when Lex attended the fallen leader’s funeral. Lex was pulled away from his wife’s sickbed days after Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait; that did not go over well, but Nana didn’t seem to mind. As a younger family man, Lex’s children stopped asking questions about his routine absences, and they learned to submit to their own irritation. They would learn, very early on, that such questions, if addressed at all, would be answered with a joke or a play on words. They knew that their grandmother couldn’t be bothered by such questions either, and they also knew that she was a tight-lipped as her husband. Among the uninitiated, Lex called himself an ‘infrastructure developer’, and said very little else. Except, of course, to Jenna.
As a small girl Jenna hung on her grandparents. They represented an interesting world to her curious mind, teaching her sentences in rare and old, languages, treating her to all the attention a small child would deserve. They let her borrow grown-up books from their massive collection. Nana Kasner once taught her how to play the Star-Spangled Banner on piano. Jenna’s parents loved these days she would spend running all over hell with her grandparents, chiefly for the privacy it gave the younger Kasner family. And without fail, she would come home happy, and exhausted.
She kept fond memories of these days. Well into adulthood, one most unique instance stood out, with precisely no explanation. On one of their regular drives about town, Lex took Jenna into the country – to a parcel of land north of town. There was little on the horizon, but for a few dozen buildings and a grey atmosphere. Lex, however, was quite animated to his little kin.
“Jenna – it is here, that we will build a place for all the farmers to work, when they are done farming.”
“What will they do here, Papa?”
“People will make machines, that make bigger machines! More people will sit in rooms and draw pictures, that will become houses for your Papa and Nana and your Mom and Dad and you!”
“How will they know what to draw?”
“Because Jenna, when they are old, when they are eighteen years old and all done with school, they will take a little more school, and become very, very smart!”
“After sixth grade?”
“Oh yes. And then people will come here, everyone will clap for them, and they will be ready to go!!”
“Which people will clap?”
“All of the town. Your Mom and Dad, your Nana and Papa, and all your friends. They will come here just for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes!”
“I will go here too?”
“Yes! You will!”
“I will?”
“Of course you will. You are a Kasner!”
“Papa?”
“Yes?”
“What do they do here now?”
“Jenna, you ask lots of questions, don’t you?”
“I do?”
“Yes, you do!”
They arrived at one of very few buildings in this area. It was a non-descript structure, painted beige, with a chain-link fence around it. Jenna, quite a literate child, read the sign on the entrance out loud.
“Department of Conservation Security -Visitors Please Register At Desk.”
Lex slowed down, and waved to the guard. Jenna waved too, and leaned over her grandfather, to see the neat little building in which this man was standing. It was a “Jenna-sized House.”
“Hello Mayor. Good to see you again.”
“You too, Bill!” said Lex.
“Bye, Bill!” said Jenna.
The gate opened. Jenna did notice it close behind them.
“You are not a visitor.” said Jenna.
“That’s right. But you are, my dear!!”
Lex smiled, and patted her head.
“Visitors are special.” Thought Jenna. “They get to come here with Papa.”
Lex drove on, passing several non-descript beige buildings. Jenna kept close watch on the events outside their car. A man and woman came out of one of the buildings – Jenna waved, but the two people did not wave back.
“They must be very busy.” Jenna thought.
Jenna’s eager persona noticed everything- open gate-Bill said hello – house for backyard-sign that says B U M P – building with busy people they did not wave – more buildings – we are slowing down – must look out window-
She was ecstatic. Her youthful stamina assured her that this day, with her Papa, was simply perfect.
“Jenna – we are there!” Said Lex as they drove slowly up to what must have been the third or fourth beige building. To Jenna’s amazement, Lex pulled a small device from in-between their car seats, simply pressed a button, and – even without Bill’s assistance – a car-sized door…opened. Just for them.
Lex kept driving. Jenna had been in a building like this, once, when they were in Chicago, but there were not any other cars around. Lex drove slowly, and encouraged her to turn on the radio (something her Mom did not let her do.) She did not hear pop music, she did not hear any music – she heard people talking to each other. They were speaking in short, clipped sentences – words she did not understand. Alpha? Bravo? Charlie? She had playmate named Charlie. She said his name out loud.
Lex said, “Those people talking are my friends, and we are going to see them in just a moment. They are glad to see you!”
“OK OK.” Said Jenna.
The car stopped, and the Kasners dismounted. Jenna knew – she could feel that she and her grandfather were going to go straight to the beige elevator door, perhaps only a few feet. Lex could barely contain her, but when he asked to behave and hold onto his coat, she did. Jenna would be proved right. She wanted to press the elevator button – her Dad let her do this at work.
“Can I?”
“Yes! Press the button!” – then he winked.
As she started to tell Lex that there was no button, the elevator car door opened, and they walked in. Surely there had to be a button inside the elevator to press. Lex saw her disappointment. She pressed the button on her own jacket-cuffs instead. That worked – she could feel elevator car move. And soon, this door opened, too.
At once, Jenna and Lex were no longer alone. The elevator door opened into noise, into people, into a sea of people walking and wandering, each with clearly something very important to do. They walked past doors; they walked past people, all of whom dressed just alike, but some of them had different colored buttons on their shirts, and stripes on their skirts. They did not say hello to Lex, which confused Jenna – everyone says hello to Lex – the people downtown, the people at the Shul, Bill – just a moment ago – that is what people do! She would not fret long.
“We’re here!” said Lex, opening a glass door for her. “Go ahead, honey.”
If her grandfather told her to do something, she did it! Bounding through the open door, she saw another man. This man did not have a blue suit with stripes on it. He was dressed like her Dad or her Grandpa might when they go to a restaurant. Jenna kept running, to this man’s desk. Her confidence rested solely upon the fact that she could hear Lex walking up quickly behind her.
“You must be Jenna!” said the man.
“Yes” said Jenna.
Her confidence immediately turned into vapor, and she turned around quickly, looking for Lex’s coat to grab onto. Of course, Lex and his coat were right there.
“Hi Lex – how are you today?”
“Mighty fine, Brian, mighty fine.”
They kept walking, behind this new Brian, behind other people dressed like Jenna’s dad, until Lex stopped at a room with a brown door, different only from the other brown doors among the hallway, by the number stenciled above - 1918. Like the elevator, there were no buttons to press. Like the elevator, the door opened. This time, Lex went in first. Far from Jenna to be afraid, but she walked with a bit of angst, as she knew that they had arrived at wherever they had left for. Any fear she had, however, disappeared when Lex turned on the light, smiled, and motioned for her to follow him.
Jenna immediately recognized the room as one of the sort her mother took her to every week. There were bookshelves along the walls; magazines littered on end tables that set next to two small couches, between which was a coffee table, covered in typed paper. Jenna ran to the back of the room, where she saw a full-sized desk. On that desk sat a wooden sign, with her grandfathers’ name in big letters. She smiled when she saw them. Underneath, in smaller letters, were two words she could read, but didn’t understand – Infrastructure Developer.
“Papa!”
“Yes, dear?”
“How come you have a library?”
“Because a Kasner needs a library!”
“Me too?”
“Yes, dear, you too!”
Jenna’s mind remained occupied for hours, in fact, days. Lex would mutter aloud as he cleared this paper from his desk, and he would speak into a machine, telling someone to write a letter or take a minute. Although she had never been there before, the mood of the room was so familiar, and of course, her Papa was guiding her. She noticed that there were no windows in the library, except for the one on the door, the door with 1918 written on top it. She wondered if Brian or Bill would open this door for them, or if this too, did not need a button. These were the things she would ask Papa just as soon as he was done with the letter-minute-machine. Oh, there were many things to think about.
Jenna woke up with the feel of her grandfather’s knit coat at her cheek, her small shoes next to the couch on which she had fallen asleep.
“Papa is here” she thought. She was reassured that everything was good, safe and sound.
She was very right! At that time, seeing his granddaughter start to move, Lex suggested to her that now, right now, was the best time for her to rejoin him, and that as soon as she picked out a book – to take with her from the Library – then they would go to Nana.
“Can we come back to the library?”
“May be, Jenna.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Oh, my dear! Not tomorrow. Tomorrow your Nana and I take you back home to Mommy and Dad so you can be ready for school on Monday!”
“OK” said Jenna.
The book she picked out was an original French edition of Babar.
“Jenna, the girl with so many questions?”
“Yes Papa”
“Do you want to know something you must keep secret?”
“May be.”
“Very good – then come with me.”
Lex scooped up his granddaughter in one arm, turned the lights off with the other, and the two exited this library, walking not in the direction of the exit, but toward a noticeable hum, that unnerved the little girl. To be sure, one could not worry very much among Papa, and even less so with Babar. Her eyes focused on where the red, green, and yellow stripes were pointed to on the floor. She remembered that the people in the blue suits had these colors on their badges, but she did not. As far as she could tell, her Papa didn’t either.
As they walked, they came to a hallway, to which these stripes did not lead. The red and green went toward her Papa arm, and the yellow went to her Babar arm. Even so, Lex kept walking. There were doors every few steps, but these did not have 1918 written above them. She held her grandfather tightly.
After many long moments, they stopped against a wooden desk. There was no man at this desk, as there had been when they arrived with Papa’s friend – and her friend. Here, there was only a console that looked like a very small color television. Lex spoke to it – all he said was their last name, which relaxed Jenna, and she smiled at her grandfather. She heard a chime, at which point Lex began walking again.
Lex said: “My dear, we are going to a new library.”
Seconds later, they stood before a door – with a button – with a marking Jenna did not understand.
“Papa’s friends do not know how to spell.” She thought, while scouring her young memory for something akin to this strange word, this “C O N B O X.”
Lex and Jenna entered this new library. This was not like the nice, comfortable room her Papa took her to for her nap and her book. She was reminded of when she went to the Doctor with her Dad – they had to wait, and wait, in a small room – with nothing but a machine on the wall that no one could touch, not her Dad, not Papa, not Jenna, only the Doctor. Oh, the troublesome day that was. Such was the sort of room she was in now, machine included. But Papa did touch the machine. He took hold of a hook on the wall, held it with one hand while inserting a shiny piece of metal into a plug on the bottom. When he did that, out came more from this box! Jenna heard the same sound – a fan – that used to come on when she would press the wrong switch in her parents’ bathroom. But this stayed on, and on. It got louder, growing into a real nuisance – enough to force her into a confused look to her grandfather. She could hear clicks from inside the box, and noticed a special scent that she could not recognize.
“This will take only a moment more, dear girl.”
She stared at her grandfather with her mouth wide open!
Lex placed his left hand on the machine, and reached over the table to touch her shoulder. He winked at her – and seconds later, the noise stopped.
He opened this box, and it became clear to his young granddaughter that something was inside – she could see it. He took out two pieces, each connected to the inside of the box by thin wires. Each piece fit comfortably in Lex’s hands. These parts reminded Jenna of her father’s tools; wood, metal, and cords, and she knew that she should not touch such things – she might break them, or they might break her. These were not for her small hands, and she was scared. Lex, of course, thought he knew how to assuage her nerves.
“My dear girl, you have grown up! You are five years old, and you will never be five again!”
Sensing he had worried her – forgetting that she might enjoy being five, Lex continued:
“Soon, you will be six. That is five-extra. And soon after that, when it is time, seven – very big! So today I want to show you a story about your Papa and your Nana, about where we came from – how is that for you today?”
“OK”
He smiled at her, winked, invoking the memory of the regal Kasners – of Europe and now Ohio – he said:
“You, like the Kasners of old, ask questions. This is how everyone should be! You see, my dear, you are special, and you must ask more questions. And when someone asks you a question, you must answer with another question. Do you understand?”
“Do you understand?” asked Jenna.
“Good girl!” said Lex.
He continued.
“Jenna, this small box, with the wires, will help you ask more questions. I want you to think of a question.”
“OK”
Lex took each of Jenna’s hands into his own, and gently aided her, to take ahold of the wooden and metal pieces, connected by wires to the box. Jenna stared directly at these new tools. The pieces looked similar to an extent; each made of brown, seasoned wood. Jenna saw a place her grandfather’s fingers could hold this machine tight. Her grandfather motioned for her to do so.
“You hold that one up to your mouth and the other one up to your ear, Jenna!”
“Like the telephone.”
“Yes!”
Jenna did so, and looked straight at her grandfather. Although an exceptionally bright child, her attention span was very similar to that of other five year olds. She may have rolled her eyes at Lex. The amazement of the library had long since passed out of her mind, and she was fidgety.
Lex said “Jenna, do you have a question?”
At once, she snapped out of her ennui, and smiled broadly.
“Yes!”
“Now, dear girl, you can ask a question into this box! Hold that one tight against your ear – this one to your mouth – and ask!”
Jenna shut her eyes in thought, her brow wrinkled. Her little hands held the machine’s handles tightly. She took Lex’s admonition quite seriously, and would not – under any circumstances – ask this question until it was just perfect. Lex understood this about her. He had decided to ‘take his granddaughter to work’, in the hope that such a quick observation in her mind, might raise more questions, than her own instant effort would answer.
“Have you got it, little girl?”
Jenna, quite ready, spoke immediately into the piece in her right hand.
“Where is mama?”
The fan she heard before kicked in, and she was again reminded, of her parents’ bathroom. A small red and yellow light alternated upon the box itself. Lex realized quickly, that in his vigor to open Jenna’s mind, he hadn’t been graceful enough to guide her into the question she might ask. Nonetheless…
Jenna snapped to attention and her eyes zeroed in on her grandfather. She could hear noise through the box her small hand held to her ear. Voices, many of which she could not understand. Like how Papa and Nana talk at supper!
One voice stood out, woman’s voice.
“What?” said Jenna into the device. Lex smiled. His granddaughter was starting to hear.
She held the earpiece close. The voices made themselves into a pattern, and from that pattern, she found the first hints of words she knew. She heard a name her grandfather had routinely mentioned, but she could not remember when.
“Where is Mama?” her question was repeated by this new person to hear; she continued in a clear, if slightly stilted voice, ”I am Frieda Kasner.”
“I was born in Düsseldorf in 1890. My husband, Fritz and I came to the United States in 1916, and not long after that our son Alexis was born. Our daughter Aggie was born in 1920. She lived until 1922.
“Papa!” Jenna asked – loudly. “Who is this?”
”Fritz and I lived until 1955.” said the voice, Frieda.
“We made our home in the state of Ohio…..”
“PAPA.” Said Jenna. Loudly. “ Who is this?”
“My dear, that is my Mama. Not yours. But you have heard her, haven’t you?”
“YES.”
“So then it is just fine. I am so sorry, dear girl. You asked where your Mama is – not mine. But your Mama is on the way to your house and she will be home tomorrow! I will take you to her in the morning. But now you know another person don’t you?”
“Yes I do.”
“Do you think you might have another question for my Mama, or for anyone else, from time to time?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Even when you are eighteen, or twenty or thirty?”
“I am five.”
“But you will soon be five plus one!”
“Papa. Even then too. And eighteen and twenty.”
“Good, little girl. Then you have had a full day! Do you mind if we visit Dairy King on the way to Nana?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, you mind?”
“Papa! I don’t mind.”
Lex smiled broadly. He would never take Jenna back to this library, indeed, they would not speak of this day again to each other. He had given her much to think about, but she should not do so again today. He put her little hand in his, as they made their exit. They walked through the door, with no button, toward more doors with no buttons. Lex did not want to burden Jenna with too many details. His work was done.
“Jenna”
“Yes?”
“We are going to get in the car! Can you sing me your song on our way there?”
“Yes!”
“Sing it to me now!”
“Papa.” said the exasperated child – she was getting into the part – “I will.”
Thirty feet later, as they walked down another beige hall with numbered doors, Jenna sang,
“I love you
a bushel and a peck
a bushel and a peck
and a hug around the neck
a hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap
you bet your pretty neck I do.”
This man, Lex Kasner, was very proud of his granddaughter, and would remain so for the years into her adult life, and into the end of his own. He was very happy. Were he a more effusive man, he may have even sung along with her!
[1] A man who would later become the boss of Porto Jr.
[2] Who did not run for re-election in 1976. VanderWall had headed up “Democrats for Nixon” in 1968, formally switching parties in 1969 after winning in 1964 with over 60 percent of Ohio’s votes. His close association with Nixon, crippled him politically. Very well respected nonetheless, VanderWall was named Ambassador to NATO by President Ford in 1974, returning to Ohio in 1977 at the end of that Administration. In spite of the loss, VanderWall was widely expected to re-take his old seat in the Republican year of 1980 when the incumbent Senator- also a friend of Lex’s- appeared very vulnerable. Adding to the VanderWall legend, when asked if he would run, his only comment regarding his replacement in the Senate was “He’s doing a good job considering the position the country’s in. We should let him have a chance to help govern”. Senator Doug Wassemiller was narrowly re-elected, with 51 percent in 1980. Wassemiller would be grateful enough to the family for that gesture, using his influence in the party to allow only token Democratic opposition to the younger VanderWall’s candidacy for Congress in 1988.
[3] In fact, her beloved grandfather opposed such an initiative. But he loved seeing her in his old haunts, in the arena.
posted by Brian Porto, Jr., Ohio State Senate at
7:29 PM
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