FALLING STARS
Chapter Twenty-Four
June 15, 1944
The entire family gathered together to mourn
the loss of Adam and Harold. Ruth came to stay with her daughter for a few
days, to help her through this difficult time, and to seek comfort herself. She
had never expected to lose a grandchild. Heidi had been planning upon traveling
to New York with a friend for the second half of June, but she canceled her
plans when she learned of her brother’s death. Gregory and Emily, and their
children, Moira, John, and Kay, became almost permanent fixtures in the Dawson
household. On June tenth, Libby arrived from Chippewa Falls, bringing her two
small children, Virginia and Paul, with her. Rose had managed to contact Nancy
on her second attempt, and Nancy took time off from her busy movie-making
schedule in Hollywood to return to Philadelphia.
Adam’s funeral was held on June 15, 1944. His
body had been shipped back to the United States, but Rose had been unable to
bring herself to go to claim it. That task had fallen to Jack, and he had
returned home in shock, as though the reality of his son’s death had finally
hit him.
All of the members of the Dawson family were
at the funeral, as well as Cal, who had in many ways become a part of the
family over the past few years, and several of Adam’s friends. Rose stood
between Jack and Ruth, barely comprehending what was going on around her as she
thought back over the years of Adam’s life.
Adam Dawson had born on August 8, 1923, in a
hospital in Philadelphia. Rose had insisted that Jack be there with her, much
to the dismay of the doctor, who didn’t consider it appropriate or necessary
for the father to be present at a birth. But, as was often the case, Rose’s
strong will prevailed, and Jack was present when their second son came into the
world.
For the two years that Adam had been the baby
of the family, his elder siblings, particularly his sisters, had doted him
upon, who had considered him their own live doll. Gregory had tried to ignore
his little brother, after showing some initial interest in him, because he considered
babies to be things that only girls were interested in. However, by the time
that Adam was able to crawl, he followed his older brother around everywhere,
getting into things and annoying Gregory. Nothing could put Adam off. He adored
his older brother, and soon tried to emulate him. Gregory tried to ignore him,
but had been secretly pleased at his little brother’s worshipful attitude.
Adam’s first word was "Geg," his baby way of saying
"Gregory." It was Gregory who taught Adam how to ride a bike, and
later, much to their parents’ dismay, introduced him to cigarettes and bootleg
liquor.
Adam had been just a few months shy of six
years old when Andrew was born in 1929. Andrew had soon commenced following
Adam around, admiring him in much the same way as Adam had admired Gregory, but
the two youngest Dawson boys were much closer in age, and Andrew was able to do
many of the things that Adam did much sooner.
Rose had been proud of her son, who had been
intelligent, caring, and thoughtful of others. Although she had hated to see
him go off to war, she had accepted it, knowing that this time the war actually
had a purpose, that they faced a genuine threat, unlike in the first world war,
when the "threat" had largely been in the minds of a propaganda-enraged
public, and the main purpose of America’s involvement had been political.
At least, Rose thought, they had brought him
back in one piece, unlike some, who had been blown apart. It had been a bullet
that had taken Adam’s life, not a bomb, and when Rose had finally forced
herself to look at him, he had almost appeared to be sleeping. Rose had tried
to comfort herself with the thought that he had died for something worth
fighting for, but the fact remained that he had died in a war, one which the
world had hoped would never happen. The War to End All Wars had only been a
precursor to an even deadlier conflict.
Rose leaned against Jack, tears running down
her face, as she watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. There wasn’t
a dry eye anywhere, and Ruth held onto her daughter’s arm as though she would
never let go.
At the end of the funeral, when three shots
were fired into the air, they seemed to hold a sense of finality, as though now
things were truly over.