The Helmet - The final lesson(Belle Renard) After Jack and Tommy found the helmet in 1955, what impact did future actions have on the lives of those around them? What lesson ends up being learned?
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September 2015

"Thank you for coming," Michael Lawrence said. As was expected, Michael stood next to his grandfather, Bernard, who was seated on his left. At 94 years old, Bernard was still pretty active and got around alright, but he had a hard time standing for too long. The two of them thanked the mourners who had come to pay their respects to his father, Jack. The day had been so long and the last of the mourners were nearly done streaming through the funeral home. Jack had been loved by so many. He really made a difference in this town, in the 69 years he lived here and it showed on the faces of the complete strangers who were giving their sympathies to the Lawrence family.

Jack had been born in 1946, right here in Conway Springs. Jack's mother, Alice, passed away when he was fourteen years old and his father, Bernard, raised him on his own. Theirs had been a close family and Michael grew up hearing stories told by family members, often accompanied by laughter and good-natured ribbing. Jack always had a knack for helping people, and when he was old enough, he left Conway Springs just long enough to learn medicine, and return as Doctor Lawrence, to attend to the good folks of Conway Springs. The town was here now to show their recognition of the dedication he had shown in his service to the community and its 1,200 or so inhabitants.

A small woman was patting Bernard's hand and moving to shake hands with Michael. He smiled down at her while she grabbed Michael's hand and said, "Your father was a wonderful man. You both must have been so proud of him," her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked into Michael's face and then back at Bernard once again. "He saved my husband, you know. He was the only one that my Roy would listen to when it came to his heart. He found the problem with his arteries and got him to have the surgery he needed. I believe he was guided by the hands of angels and he saved my Roy's life." Her chin trembled as she patted Michael's hand now, and moved on. Michael knew that "her Roy" was now deceased, but he appreciated her words none-the-less. Unfortunately, Roy and Michael's father had died the same way. Both men had cancer and died, leaving their families behind to remember them.

The last of the mourners trickled through and gave their condolences and told him how wonderful his dad had been. In a way, it surprised him. Jack never bragged about his work. It was kind of humbling to see how many lives he had touched in this small town. "I think that's the last of 'em, Grandpa. You want me to take you home?"

Bernard waved his gnarled hand at his grandson, "No, I can get home. I think I'm going to make a stop on the way there. You go on." Michael looked at his grandfather for a moment longer and then turned to say goodbye to one of his great aunts. He looked back at Bernard again, and headed for the door. He knew his grandfather wouldn't want him hovering. He said he didn't want help getting home, he meant it. Besides, Michael suspected he planned to stop by the cemetery to pay respects to his wife.

The next morning it dawned clear and cool. Although it was September, the days were still quite warm but the mornings were Michael's favorite time. The prairies were cool and quiet before the sun came up. He loved to hike around sunrise and watch the world come to life. Today was one of those mornings. He loved to head down by Slate Creek and walk along the water's edge, eventually ending up at the edge of old Merle Baker's land where he could watch the morning sun glow as it painted a shifting palette of colors across the neutral plains before him. The grass swayed softly in the breeze, like hungry paintbrushes reaching for their share of the sun's rich pigments.

Michael's mind drifted from his father, to his grandfather, and finally to his own son, Logan. His father and grandfather had shared a wonderful bond and Michael wished he had that same bond with his own son. The fact that he didn't was Michael's fault. He thought that joining the military was a noble thing to do, following in the footsteps of his grandfather. However noble, it came at a cost that Michael didn't expect. The relationship with his son suffered so much that they now barely spoke. Logan tried reaching out, inviting Michael to family events and keeping him up to date on what the kids were up to, but Michael couldn't figure out how to navigate the divide. He knew it could be done, he just didn't know how, or where to begin.

Michael had enlisted in the Army upon graduation and was almost immediately caught up in the Gulf War, being deployed to the Middle East in the early 1990's. Michael had married his high school sweetheart and they had a son, Logan, just before Michael was deployed. In the years that followed, Michael worked his way through the ranks and participated in several overseas campaigns. While his work earned him several commendations and advancements, it also created an ever-widening gulf between Michael and his son. Years of serving the military and fighting in wars all over the world had taken their toll. Being gone for most of Logan's childhood, he missed so much. Michael was also told he was "suffering from PTSD'' but he hated that phrase and labels like that. It sounded weak and one thing he knew he was not was "weak".

He didn't like the direction his thoughts were headed. He came here for solace and to experience the beauty of the morning. Instead, he started down that dark rabbit hole of reality again. Michael stood and dusted off his pants, turning back the way he had come. He needed to go check on Bernard, anyway. With his father gone, Bernard would become his responsibility. He felt a little awkward around his grandfather. That was another bridge he had burned, apparently. He admired him, hell, he was one of the reasons that Michael had joined the Army. But over the years they just started talking less and less, and things became..."different."

* * *

Before heading to Bernard's house, Michael thought he should swing by his dad's place and take a look around. He supposed it would fall on him to get the place cleaned out and put it up for sale. As he walked through the rooms, looking without really seeing all the old familiar things, his eyes fell upon an old trunk that he realized had always been there but he had never noticed. Curious about what could be inside, Michael crossed the room and stared down at it. It was not very large, but simple and beautiful. It was a small rectangular wooden box, stained a very dark cherry color. Michael ran his hand over the top and wiped away a barely perceptible layer of dust. His father had been particular about keeping things tidy, but in his final days, and the days since his death, the dust finally won some ground and settled on everything in the quiet room. Michael pushed the lid up and looked inside, surprised by the contents.

Staring up at him from inside the wooden box was the face of a young soldier who looked to be from the second world war. He briefly wondered if this was his grandfather but he could tell right away that it wasn't. Who could this be, then? The framed photo was laying atop a carefully folded uniform and as he lifted the picture from its place, he saw the name Mason embroidered on the uniform patch. "Mason?" he mumbled to himself. He wasn't aware of any relation to the Masons in town, if there were any. All he knew of the Masons was that old house, that had been torn down years ago. It was always called the "Mason house".

Next to the uniform was an old helmet. He picked it up and, turning it to the side, saw a detailed painting of a woman in white holding the ace of spades card. She looked like a vintage pinup girl, by her hair and facial features. But something about the way she was painted gave her an ethereal quality. The artwork was very well done, Michael thought.

Michael brought the helmet and the photo with him and closed the lid. He knew his grandfather had been in the war and thought he might appreciate seeing these things and may be able to shed some light on why his dad had kept them in the first place.

* * *

Michael turned into the drive at Bernard's house. Michael was impressed the old man still lived on his own, but he was stubborn, that's for sure. There was another car in the drive that he recognized as his dad's old friend, Tommy. It would be good to see Tommy again. They hadn't really had time to speak at the viewing. He had been a permanent fixture in his house while Michael was growing up. His dad and Tommy were lifelong friends and he knew Tommy was taking this hard.

He opened the door without knocking, as they always did at each other's houses, and walked in with the helmet tucked under his arm and the photo in his hand. "Hey, Pops," Michael called in a distracted greeting.

The room was cool and dark and he could see Tommy perched on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him. His body was angled slightly toward the recliner where his grandfather was sitting. Bernard had been such a strong man in Michael's youth, and seeing him here now in his old chair, he looked somehow a bit smaller, almost shrunken. He had lived through a great war, surviving an attack. He raised his son on his own after his devoted wife passed away. He survived a battle with cancer and now he's lost his only son to cancer. "He's been through so much," Michael thought, pityingly, as he crossed the room to squeeze the old man's hand in greeting.

Bernard's eyes fell upon the helmet under Michael's arm and he sat up a little straighter. "What's that you got there?" he said quickly, his eyes widening. "Let me see that," he said, reaching and taking the helmet without waiting for Michael to respond. He stared down at the drawing as the helmet shook in his frail hands. His wide eyes began to fill with tears as he stared with his mouth agape. "Why...I...Good heavens," He stammered. "Where did you find this?" he looked up quickly at Michael who was standing next to Bernard's chair, bewildered by what was happening. How could his grandfather recognize this old relic? Perhaps he had given it to his father?

Michael held the photo out to his grandfather and said, "I found these in dad's house and I thought they looked like World War II stuff, so I just brought them over to show to you. Do you recognize them? Are they yours?"

Bernard's eyes went from Michael's face to the photo and his chin quivered as he reached for the frame. Michael had not expected this reaction, at all. He looked at Tommy who now sat up straight with his hands on his splayed thighs, wearing a puzzled look on his face. "Are you OK, Bernard?" Tommy said, "What is it?"

Bernard tried to speak as he looked up at the two men, but he couldn't make words come out. He closed his eyes, causing tears to stream down his cheeks. Michael could never remember seeing Bernard cry, not ever. He glanced at Tommy who looked back at him, bewildered. Michael reached down to touch his grandfather's hand and knelt next to his chair. "Pops, it's OK. Just take a breath. Tommy and I are here," The old man looked at him sharply then, and pulled his hand back. Through moist eyes, with a shaky voice, he rebuked his grandson for seeing weakness in him. "I'm fine!" he snapped and then seemed to collect himself.

Bernard took a deep breath and looked at Tommy and then at Michael. "Sit down," he said softly to Michael. Michael did as he was told and gently sank onto the edge of the sofa next to Tommy, mirroring his intent posture. Bernard took a deep breath and looked once more at the photo. "I was sent on a secret mission in August of 1944, across German lines into Reims, France. My mission was to collect intel on German troop movements and report back. It was very dangerous, of course, and I knew that the Allies were nearby liberating other small villages and they would be attacking Reims any day. My goal was to get the necessary information and get out before they arrived. I didn't make it, however. In the early morning hours of August 30, 1944 the Allies began attacking and all hell broke loose. I was caught by a German soldier in an alleyway as I tried to flee the town and get away from the attack. He shot me, right in the chest and collapsed my lung. He ran away as soon as he did it and I thought I was done. No one can survive this, I thought," Bernard gave a wry laugh at that point. His eyes were open but not seeing the present. He was back there in that alley in 1944. Michael looked at Tommy's profile and then back at Bernard.

"No sooner had I hit the ground, making peace with my maker, but an Allied soldier showed up. He spoke English, I remember thinking he was American, but I can't remember now what he said to me. I remember looking at his helmet because it had this beautiful design on the side and it was quite striking. I was in so much pain, I couldn't breathe, I thought I was dying. And I stared up at the face of an angel. An angel who was holding the ace of spades....the death card. I tried not to focus on the card but stared at the angel and prayed to my God to save me. I had just gotten married and I needed to return home to my bride. It all went dark then and I woke up in a field hospital a few days later. I never knew who this man was, who saved my life, but he is the reason I was able to get my information into the right hands. He is the reason we were able to stop the Germans."

There was silence in the room. Michael stared at his grandfather in disbelief. One man? One man was the reason we won the war? This sounded like a bit much. "One man?" he said out loud. Bernard's eyes finally focused on his grandson and said, "Son, if that man had not saved my life the Allied forces would have walked into the biggest coup this world had ever seen. The information that I had uncovered literally changed the course of that war."

The room was once again silent as the two men on the sofa took in this information. His grandfather had never spoken of this. This was very hard to take in. Bernard turned the helmet over and looked inside. "Edward Mason," he said slowly.

"Now your face has a name," he said, his chin trembling once again.

"Mason?" Tommy said. "God," he raked his fingers through his thinning hair. "I was there when Jake found that." The other two men looked quickly at Tommy. He realized this and gave a quick breathy laugh. "Jack and I were just boys and we found an old abandoned house that had belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Mason. We snuck inside and Jack found that, along with some other stuff. Well," he amended. "Jack found that on his own and hid it from me, but eventually he told me about it. I guess he felt kinda guilty having taken it from the house so he needed absolution," Tommy chuckled softly. He looked back and forth between the two men and no one spoke.

"Well, Bernard," Tommy said, "maybe we can find out who this Edward Mason was, for you. Maybe he's still around."

"I doubt it," Bernard said. "Not if his parents had his things. Still, I would like to know just what happened to him," his eyes returned to the face in the frame and the memory of that fateful night came flooding back to him. I'm his mind's eye he saw two faces, the young face of the man who saved his life and the solemn face of the beautiful angel holding the card of death.

* * *
A few days later, Michael met Tommy in front of Bernard's house. They briefly compared notes on what they had found and decided it was time to share the news with the old soldier.

"Hey, Pops," Michael said as he opened the door and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim living room. Bernard was asleep in his chair, breathing softly and grumbling a snore here and there. Michael touched his grandfather's hand and his eyes blinked slowly, bringing him back to the present.

"Pops, Tommy is here. We found some information on Edward Mason."

Tommy was already seated on the sofa. Michael handed Bernard the papers that Tommy had brought with him, but he began to summarize it anyway. "Tommy did some work at the library and was able to find information on Edward Mason, pretty quickly."

"Perks of living in a small town, I guess." Tommy joked lightly.

Michael smiled at him and continued, "It seems that Edward was killed on August 30, the same day he saved your life. He was fighting with the 7th Infantry Regiment of the 3rd Infantry Division of the U.S. Army. He was ambushed by a German and shot. We're really sorry, Pops."

Tommy glanced at Michael and then picked up where he left off, "His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Mason both died within two years of their son's passing. Mr. Mason died from a heart attack and Mrs. Mason just died in her sleep, possibly of a broken heart." He paused for a moment and Michael joined in, reading from his phone, "He's buried here right alongside his mama and daddy. I was able to find some articles from that time, as well as some service records. I'll have those printed out so you can read them, if you like." The older man nodded.

Tommy continued, "Unfortunately, their house is gone now, torn down a few years ago, I think. The day that Jack and I...well, Jack, found the stuff, it was in a room that must have been Edward's when he was growing up. It looked like a boy's room. It had pictures of him everywhere. That picture you got is one of them. Jack told me years later that he went back to that old house and took these things. He felt like they were sacred, he said, and so he thought they needed saving."

"He was right," Bernard softly said. "I've been thinking about it." After a long pause, Bernard went on, "The actions of that one man saved my life. In doing so, he helped me save the lives of countless others. It allowed me to return home to my wife and start a family. We had your father, Jack, who went on to become a well-respected doctor in this town. He touched countless more lives, saving people, healing people..." Bernard trailed off. He was silent for a while before he spoke again, "The actions of just one man, doing what he needed to do in that moment, lead to so much life. I was awarded a medal for the information that I obtained but I never gave it much thought. I was just doing my job...what I was sent out to do. And that's what Edward did but...When we all go through our days doing what we're sent out to do, we have an impact on everyone around us. I owe my life to that man." His chin trembled for just a moment and then stopped. He lifted his head proudly and said, "I can never repay that, but I will never forget it. Best we can do now, to honor his memory, is to share his story."

Michael thought of his own military service and wondered if he had touched anyone's life the way that Bernard was describing. His thoughts turned to his son and guilt settled heavily on his heart. He knew what he had to do.

Michael smiled slightly at Tommy and rose from the couch. He walked to his grandfather and took his hand with one hand, and placed his other hand on the old man's shoulder. "I love you, Pops," he said, and left the house.

* * *

Michael had time to think during the roughly half-hour trip to Wichita, where his son, Logan lived. He hadn't done the best that he could with his son. Michael knew that he had things he needed to deal with and he had been avoiding them. Hearing Bernard talk about how everything we do has a ripple effect, got Michael thinking. He had grown up with a great dad, he shaped his life in so many positive ways. He didn't do that for Logan and it was too late to change that now. Logan had a life of his own, and a family of his own. But Michael knew he wanted to leave a better legacy than he had so far.

He pulled into the driveway of the small townhouse and looked at the cheerful flowers framing the front door. He had met Logan's wife only once, but she seemed really nice. Logan and his wife seemed devoted to one another and their two children were adorable. Michael would like the opportunity to be a grandpa to those kids, like Bernard was for him. This conversation wasn't going to be easy, though.

His heart raced a bit as he opened his door and stepped from the car. He walked up the short path to the front door and knocked. He heard the sounds of a dog barking and kids laughing before the door clicked open and Michael stood there, face to face with his son. Logan's features shifted from surprise to concern when he saw his father standing before him. Michael hardly knew where to begin, but he knew that all that was important was to try. "Hi son," he began, "I've missed you. I know I haven't been there for you and for that I am honestly and truly sorry. If you would allow me to come in, I would like the chance to talk to you and share an incredible story with you and your family. I hope, after you hear it, you would allow me to start again and earn my place in your family...to be a part of your life," Logan stared at him for a moment and Michael expected him to shut the door in his face. But Logan smiled and said, "I would love that. Come in, Dad." and stepped back to allow Michael to enter his home and his life.

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