MY BOOK

“Sycamore Leaves”

The mid-week, throwaway newspaper, filled with grocery ads, landed on lawns and driveways throughout California’s San Fernando Valley, including the driveway of Encino resident Frank Randall, who shared his home with daughter, Joan, and her three girls. Frank’s youngest granddaughter, Abby, placed the newspaper on the kitchen table before leaving for school.

After the other house occupants left for work and school, Frank settled at the table with a second cup of coffee and unfolded the newspaper. He browsed the ads until flipping to the back page. He found, below the fold, a picture of the woman he had secretly loved for fifty years. The picture caption identified Kathleen Howard as an army veteran who had served as a field nurse during the Vietnam War. Wuppa-wuppa-whop-whop-whop—Frank “heard” helicopter blade slapping at any mention of Vietnam. He phoned the newspaper office and spoke to the reporter identified in the article.

“Yes, sir,” the reporter said, “my editor wanted an article about a veteran to promote picnics and barbecues in the run up to Veteran’s Day. Mrs. Howard has an interesting story, but the editor gave me only space enough for a picture and caption. Do you know her?”

“Yes, we served in Vietnam together. Let me ask you, the picture background looks like a hospital room. Is Kathleen ill?”

“I interviewed her at West Los Angeles VA Medical Center. Perhaps you should phone there.”

When Frank phoned the hospital, the nurse who answered wouldn’t connect his call to Kathleen’s room but took his number so a relative could return his call. Later Frank spoke with her daughter. Kathleen, in good spirits on Monday, had told her daughter she would be out of the hospital before Veteran’s Day. She was wrong. The cancer had spread, and her hospital stay became hospice care. The former army nurse had only a short time to live.