Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

TWENTY ONE

March 5, 1942

Another Thursday! Exactly two weeks—since Jason and Valerie had experienced their first “Hockey Night Date”. Our Hero found himself silently hoping that he, and his “datee”, might be able to take in more of that night’s game—vs. the New York Rangers—than had been the case, on February 19th, when the Red Wings had prevailed, over the Chicago Blackhawks, by a dominant (he’d supposed) margin of 6-1.

The pair had not paid much attention—to the contest, at the time. They’d been “fanny deep” in a critical discussion—pertaining to the “progress” Jason had been making: He had decided to continue working for Eric’s company—in their new endeavor, the construction of a mammoth public housing project. He had also decided to take a nice apartment—and, potentially, to buy a car.

He was almost afraid, to annunciate his wish—vis-a-vis the Rangers contest—aloud. Even to himself. He’d had to admit, though—upon strained reflection—that the rapt inattention, paid at the Blackhawks game, had gone on, to produce positive results. Many positive results:

After all, Jason had, nervously, bounced this trio, of “earth-shaking” decisions, off of Valerie—during the length-and-breadth of the Blackhawk joust! He’d never—as in ever—been forced, to make any sort of even semi-serious decisions before! Not in his entire life! Everything seemed to have been planned out—for him! Always—and ever! So, it was a grave understatement. to say, that making those three major decisions—all at, virtually, the same time—had been totally unsettling, to him! To the point, where—at times—he could almost feel himself unraveling!

Undoubtedly, getting his “girlfriend’s” (semi-surprising) endorsement—of all three—had represented a “fabulous first” victory! (“Hell, three victories”—all at one time! Unheard of!)

These were, out and out, triumphs! Of monumental proportions! The candied cherry—atop this astounding “rout”—was the fact that this wonderful young woman had pointedly “come out”! She had proclaimed herself—to be his “official” girlfriend! It doesn’t get any better than that! (Well, maybe, that—and the Wings prevailing, at the end of the game!)

The couple wasn’t able to score prime seats, this time. Their ducats turned out to be, not nearly as advantageous—as had been the case, for the Chicago match. They’d found themselves seated three rows, from the very top, of the balcony. They would be looking out—from behind the Rangers’ goal (during the first and third periods).

The fact that they’d gotten to The Olympia later—substantially later—on this Thursday night, had undoubtedly figured in their disappointment. (Actually, they weren’t that filled with regret! Seeing the Wings’ offense “thundering” toward them—in periods 1 and 3—wound up giving them a whole different prospective!)

The “hallowed” arena was, substantially, more populated than had been the case—vis-a-vis the encounter, with the Blackhawks. At first, Jason had thought this odd. From everything—the multitude of things—that Grandpa Piepczyk had told him, the Rangers had been league doormats! For years! Maybe decades! Why should more people want to see them?

The two gentlemen—occupying the seats next to him appeared to be quite avid fans. So, shortly before “puck droppage”, Our Boy inquired of them—as to why the spectator turnout, for New York, was so much greater than the crowd gathered, for Chicago.

The gentleman two seats away, gave Jason an indulgent look—then, advised “The Kid” that the Rangers, under Coach Frank Boucher, had won The Stanley Cup, as recently as 1940. (Mr. Boucher would coach the New York franchise from 1939-till-1949—and then return, to the number-one spot, for the 1953/54 season.)

The information provided—had brought back something else that his grandfather had advised Jason. And the old man had repeated this factoid—numerous times: The Rangers—during their true doormat days—“had gone, something like fifty or fifty-five years without winning a Cup”. (Actually, it had been 54 years—from Boucher’s 1940 champions, to Coach Mike Keegan’s, much-heralded, 1994 Stanley Cup triumph.)

There were a surprising number of players—on the Gotham roster—of whom Jason had actually heard. He didn’t think that Grandpa Piepczyk had begun attending the Wings’ games till the mid-forties.

The old man had been dazzled—when first attending a Rangers game—by defenseman Neil Colville’s gray hair! He was still, at that point, a young man—but, he had stood out, because of his premature thatch! Colville—and his non-graying brother, Mac—were both in the New York lineup, on this, hopefully-magic, night!

Grandpa had, often, spoken—of such luminaries as Phil Watson, Ott Heller, Babe Pratt, Alf Pike, Grant Warwick, and Bryan Hextall! All would appear—right before Jason’s bedazzled eyes—on that hallowed Thursday night. He was almost tempted to repeat—to himself—his silent wish, that he’d be able to devote substantially more attention, to the contest. While it was still in progress! More attention—than had been the case, two weeks previously. (Almost tempted.)

Over that hockey-bookended fortnight, a lot of “alterations” had taken place! Big changes—in Our Hero’s life! Really big changes! Lots of ’em!

First off, he’d—ever so tentatively—advised Eric (and Susan) on the Friday, following the Chicago game—that he’d wished to remain, with Eric! Working, with him—on the Herman Gardens project! His landlord (and his landlady) seemed glad to hear the news!

Jason had gotten to where he’d (to himself, of course) constantly referred the night, of that Blackhawk game—as “The night I slapped Valerie, on the fanny”! (That had been—and had remained—a totally personal, and very private, observation. But, it was a bona fide triumph! A substantial one!)

On that same H.V. Kaltenborn Friday evening, he’d also informed Eric and Susan—that he was choosing to move, to the apartment, on Ohio St. He also asked Eric, if the older man would accompany him—on the following day—to “help him” pick out a used car. Jason had—from day one—cherished his mentor’s undoubted expertise, in anything/everything mechanical. And/or electrical. His landlord had agreed, to the expedition! Happily!

(H.V. Kaltenborn was a famous newscaster—in the 1930s and 1940s! He was famous for starting off his nightly CBS—and then, his NBC—radio broadcasts with, his pet saying! Ah, yes! There’s good news tonight!) That Friday evening had, for Jason, simply brimmed—with good news!

The following day—on that storied, fabled, Saturday—Eric, and his boarder, traveled Detroit’s famed “Auto Row”! Traveled it—extensively! They traversed the overwhelming multitude, of used