My apologies to the readers who were surprised by chapter that follows this one. I thought I had sent this chapter,and did not check.
This chapter hopefully will help clear up some information.
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Miracle Chapter 6 Investigation and Reward
From Chapter 5
I have copied an important conversation for readers to understand some of the events in this chapter.
We knew that we would have to be carful around this hick. Still in display, we were ordered to follow the first guard, which we did in our usual synchronized way. We marched in unison to a barn which had the word "INTAKE" over its door.The first guard opened the door for us which I found funny that a free man opened the door for six slaves, but carefully kept my normal slave face with no change for him to note and correct. Inside we saw the familiar line about three feet in front of a desk. Sitting at the desk was a clearly overweight woman sitting at a computer. She looked at the guards. We were ordered to stop and we did so in our normal line. "This the new coffle the Master bought that we have heard about?" she asked the guards."Yah, supposed to be our show coffle, and from what we have heard they are really good at talking as well as slave tricks." one of our guards replied.Of course no one thought about asking us anything. We were slaves, and no free person asks slaves questions of importance."Well line'em up and have them give me their SIN's and I'll get'em in the inventory."Again, all interaction was free person to free person, and we waited there to be instructed. "Slaves, stating with YOU, ..." and I got a swat on my rump, "respond with your SIN when asked.""SIR YES SIR!" we all responded in unisonThere was some clicking of the computer keyboard's keys, and finally the women yelled at me."SIN!"Mentally I thought that it was funny that because she thought we were "dumb slaves" that she had to shout to make us understand. This woman was so dumb that she equated intelligence with hearing ability, and the lower the intelligence, the louder you had to yell to make sure you got through the extra think skull into the slave brain. Mentally "I" knew who was the real dumb one in this dialog."MY SIN IS 613 – 210 – 541, MA'AM" I yelled.This answer got me a really swift and hard blow from the slave strap across my butt."NO RAISED VOICES TO A FREE PERSON SLAVE SHIT!" "SIR yes SIR. Slave thanks SIR for correction SIR." I replied."Remember your place slave or we all will help you learn it." the guard snarled in reply.The lady at the desk clicked away. "That's strange" she said. To the guards she said "This enslavement order is signed by Judge Wayne Foreman of Onondaga County. That's where I am from, and Judge Foreman retired several years ago, and I don't understand why his signature is here on the order. Again as a slave I was a bystander to the conversation. The comment again was addressed to the guard.
BEGINNING OF CHAPTER 6
Mary Stevens, the slave registrar clerk at Pleasant Acres Farms, always went home to Onondaga County for a week that included the Fourth of July. She did so again on the year that the Famous Show Coffle were registered into the farm.
As she was having a lunch with some friends who were asking her about the show coffle which had been in the news at the beginning of the summer, she remembered her question about Judge Foreman.
"You know one of the show slaves must have been from here in Onondaga County as his enslavement order was signed by Judge Foreman."
Her friend looked surprised. "How old are those slaves? I thought they were all under twenty."
Mary thought for a moment, "Yes they all are."
"Well, then there is something strange because Judge Foreman died last January and so that the slave had to be above twenty as the Judge had been in the hospital for about three or four months before he died, and had not been able to serve even as a special judge for most of the whole year before his last hospitalization.
"I must have remembered incorrectly." Mary replied and the group went on to other topics. However, Mary was now more determined than ever to check out that enslavement order.
She and her friends spent the rest of the Fourth enjoying meeting other friends, and enjoying the fireworks.
However, on July 5th, Mary went to the court house. She was known in these halls with former classmates and friends in many offices. She went to the Clerk of the Courts office.
When she went into the office she saw Joyce, who was the year ahead of her in high school, but was another of the larger group of girls who were in the same clubs, and would go to parades and dances together.
When Mary entered Joyce rose from her desk.
"Mary! Great to see you!"
"Joyce, great to see you also. I was just running around seeing many of my friends from high school on my holiday break from work. Did you know that I am the slave registrar clerk for Pleasant Acres Farms ?"
"Yes! That has to be such an important job as those farms are so famous, and have some of the best – and best looking – slaves in the state. I ready how they acquired that show coffle who can do that cock salute as a part of their show. You got see them up close as they were registered...and perhaps even more around the farm."
"Well, I certainly did get to see them up close as they were unloaded and registered into the inventory. And I have gone down to the show barn to see them practicing when there are no crowds. I would have to admit that such an outstanding set of slave bois does get one juices going."
After some more reminiscing, Mary got to the real reason for her visit, although she wanted to be sure Joyce was not aware of her ulterior motive.
"I have had some enslavement orders signed by Judge Foreman, and I always notice them especially as it reminds me of friends here. Sara told me he died in January. Was he still able to fill in before he died? I remember him from the times I lived here, and always thought of him as being a classic judge – friendly but still a bit reserved."
"Yes, it was sad that after his cancer was discovered he had a real fight for life for his last year. He had to resign as a special judge ironically just a year before he died, and he was at home or in the hospital for that whole last year of his life."
"BINGO!" Mary thought, and after some more friendly chatter she left the office. She did visit the newspaper later that day, and photocopied two newspaper articles about the Judge's illness and death. She especially noted that the articles that the Judge had stopped all his official duties at a date long before the date on the enslavement order she had on file for slave 613 – 210 – 541.
When Mary returned to work, she did her job, but she also worked to assemble an absolutely unassailable case that slave 613 – 210 – 541 was not legally enslaved. She then researched the other slaves in his prize Show Coffle, and discovered she could prove two other of those slaves had fraudulent enslavement orders. Mary made two copies of her documentation, and made arrangements that at her death or disappearance this evidence would find its way to public knowledge.
When she was sure of her safety, she sent a packet of copies of documents to the owner of Pleasant Acres Farms. She walked the packet to Pleasant Acres' owner's office.
When she entered the office, she saw a co-worker and a work friend Erica Tierney/
"Hello Erica" she said as casually and friendly as possible, even though she was excited and a bit nervous at what she was about to do.
"Hi Mary! What brings you here?"
"I have a report for Mr. Morton. Is he here?" Mary knew that the answer was that he was not as she had carefully noted that he would be gone for the afternoon that day.
"No. He left about an hour ago to go to that luncheon for the Governor in town."
"Well, I have report for him. Would it be ok for me to just go in and put it on his desk?" Mary asked.
"Sure. Just put it on his desk, and if I remember I'll let him know you dropped a report off for him."
"Thanks Erica. I just pop in a leave it for him."
Mary's heart was beating fast but she willed herself to walk slowly into the large office of Mr. Morton. The office had a large desk which had a stack of folders. She placed her envelope on the top of the stack, and noted it was not that different from other intake reports she left for him to look over.
When she put it on the top of the stack, she added the little note she had written, and paper clipped it to the top of the envelope. "If you have any questions about this report, I plan to work late this evening: She had signed the note casually "Mary" and not being sure that Mr. Starbuck you know who "Mary" was she added under her name "Pleasant Acres Slave Registrar Clerk."
When Mr. Morton returned from his lunch, he did not plan to spend much time in the office. He wanted to perhaps take a swim, and then have an early light dinner, perhaps be able to go down to his driving range, and hit some golf balls. It was always fun as there were slaves who were responsible for collecting the golf balls from the range and then returning them to their supervisor to be returned to the office to be ready for the Master whenever he wished to hit some gold balls again.
He sat down at his desk, and looked over the stack of reports that awaited his attention. He was surprised to see the envelope from the estate's slave register clerk with a little note for him.
Soon after the owner received her packet, Mary Stevens received an invitation to meet with Mr. Thomas B. Morton, III. He sent for her to make the short trip from her office by the farm area and his mansion. She was then invited to go to his private office, but she asked if they could meet on his terrace overlooking the vast farm acreage.
She was NOT going to meet in a place that was not in the sight of many others. Mr. Morton agreed, and a lunch was moved from his private office to a table on the terrace.
A house slave guided Mary to the terrace and she was amused to see the fury of activity as slaves arranged the area, and other changes were made to accommodate her desired meeting location. Soon after she was seated on a very comfortable chair by a table overlooking a lawn which went down to a swimming pool, and also overlooked the fields in the distance, she admired the flowers, and the beautifully landscaped terrace and lawn.
After a few minutes Mr. Morton joined her. Almost immediately slave servants began serving a sumptuous lunch of fruit and poached salmon. The two talked of the view and the vast number of slaves that were needed to keep this estate running smoothly and profitably. Finally as the two were finishing a desert of a delicate shell of pastry filled with absolutely perfect light custard, Mr. Morton broached the real topic of the day.
"I received the packet of information which you sent to me privately concerning the documentation of three of the show coffle slaves. I have done some checking and have found the information you provided to be correct. I am sure you must realize that this information shocked me and surprised me completely."
"I am sure you were indeed shocked and surprised that I had all this information, and that I am sure you recognized what I gave you were photocopies, and that I retain the originals." was my blunt reply. I wanted him to be clear, we were in negotiations to save his butt, and I felt no need to obfuscate.
"I appreciate your comment that the information that you have assembled has been seen by no one else. I also noted your comment that you believed that I would want to do the right thing to best handle what could be an embarrassing and expensive revelation to the public in general."
Again in no mood for his fancy lies, Mary replied bluntly, "I am sure that if this information all the parties to this purchase would rush to save each of his own butt, and make sure that the courts would know who knew what and when."
I saw some perspiration appear on the normally suave and serene Mr. Morton at her reply.
Mr. Thomas B. Morton realized that he would be the "big fish" that a prosecutor would love the publicity of taking down a prominent slave owner rather than an owner of a slave auction house and any of his employees.
At this time Mr. Morton got down to the offer I was sure would come.
"I have appreciated the accuracy and excellence that you have shown in your work, and have decided that such dedication should be rewarded." Mr. Morton then outlined a series of payments to me, and showed he had done some homework somehow to know what I would want in addition to cash. I would be given a home back at my home in my childhood home of Onondaga County. It would be very comfortable but not so ostentatious as to cause question. I was also offered a winter home, which again would be on the beach and very comfortable, but not so large as to raise questions. I also would receive a line of credit with which I could travel – and travel first class in every sense of the word. In addition there would be a separate line of credit which would allow my checking account to be maintained each week at a level of $10,000 and of course with a series of investments and other investment accounts like mutual funds that would make all the remaining years of my life to be very comfortable.
I found his offer to be acceptable, but offered a couple of additional points. If I were to die any time within the next ten years, by accident or sudden illness, then he would need to realize that I would be sure that at least one of several copies of the documentation I had shared with him would be made available to many sources from radio, television, to prosecutors in several jurisdictions.
Mr. Morton agreed that he would do everything in his power to assure that I lived for the at least thirty more years. I had then told him for the first time some of the additional copies of my documentation would be automatically destroyed unopened by those entities to whom I had entrusted them in five year increments from thirty years.
Mr. Morton looked at me, not with kindness, but in recognition that he had a way to preserve himself without excessive demands on his resources. He was already a very wealthy man, and the success of his Show Coffle had even increased his net worth considerably since they were acquired and marketed. The admissions and souvenir sales would pay for what I was asking.
He nodded, smiled, and shaking my hand said when I rose to leave, "I have always noted that you were a resourceful, intelligent, and meticulous employee Ms. Stevens, but I now fully appreciate what an understatement that was. You are very worthy of joining the class of persons whose resources allow them the latitude of leisure and comfort without the drudgery of day to day work."
Mr. Morton said that he would let me know in a week or so that all arrangements had been made, and after I looked over the arrangements, that I could announce to my colleagues that an investment that I had made some time ago had come into maturity, and had performed much better than I had anticipated and that I had enough money to retire and was going to do so.
This plan occurred, and the week before Mr. Morton decided to send all his slave herd to Florida for the winter, I retired to a comfortable life in my old home, and to travel and to feel a serenity of security.
As a consequence of my retirement, a new registrar of slaves was actually in place when the herd was shipped to Florida. My replacement was very new, and although I did spend a couple of weeks making sure he knew how to carry on the normal activities, I never thought to explain to him what should not be done what was to be done for slave registration for this move. I had mentally checked out of my job at this point, and just did not outline this once a year occurrence... in part because nothing needed to be done.
Therefore when the herd was being shipped to Florida, my replacement Scott, called the Registrar of Slaves for Florida for advice about the entire herd being shipped south.
The man he talked to was very helpful, and also not as scrupulous as might be hoped. He told Scott just to highlight the registrations of the traveling herd to send the list of slaves coming to Florida to Office of Slave Registration for the State of Florida, and he would take care of this. Why did he take advantage of Scott like this? For money of course, if he could obtain several more slaves' registrations for the winter the average number of slaves resident in the state would be increased and certain federal financial support to the states would be increased.