A Hypothetical Land and People: How to Heal?
(Floyd Olson POV)
Some time in 1938…
You were tired…very tired as you walked into the Chicago State Penitentiary Maximum Security Wing. The Secret Service wished for you to remain in the White House or one of the Other Areas of Federal control during the Reconstruction.
Deal with the rigors of rebuilding a broken enough nation, to something resembling peace. Give them the time you have left and the time needed to leave the nation at peace when you are gone.
It was hard enough to convince them to let you come here, to see the source of a great deal of pain. You didn't want to see them like this…many of these men had been honest workers, family men and more.
You saw two men holding hands between the bars, another two swapping stories and another one asking about his family in the south.
You asked his name and he gave it, apparently he had been one of the Dozen's of African Americans from the south who made it up to Chicago before the War (Apparently it was easy to move if you could find the right train at the right time). As for his family, they were fleeing after him after a wave of, anti-African American violence made living in their home a risky prospect.
Hmm, they likely would have made it to one of the Midwestern Federal lines if they got out early enough and were transferred to the Southwest's many many holding areas and reprocessed to the west coast if the paperwork was filed correctly.
"I can't promise you an answer right away sir…but know with confidence that they are not only alive, but safe from the reprisals you fear are coming."
"I-...Sir, I can't believe that?" He said. "I want to…but after all this…it's too hard to think what they DID to them. I can't think and hope they are Okay until I see it with my own eyes." He said.
"CSA Marines?" You asked.
"Army sir." He said, regaining some of his composure.
"Know that you aren't going to be in here for long, almost all of you are going to walk with only minor charges." You said.
"Will it stop the mobs from killing us?" He asked.
"With a little luck and faith, they won't bother anyone here." You said. "Harold?"
An Airmen who was responsible for the health of these men stepped forward. "Sir?"
"Send a telegram, presidential seal, find the whereabouts of this man's family?" You said.
"Yes Sir?" He said as a Secret Serviceman followed.
"I can't promise anything else other than news?" You said.
He sat back on his bed and sighed. "I don't want to hope-."
"Surprise yourself a little bit…you earned at least the chance." You said. "This can't have all been for nothing." You then looked around. "I'm sorry I can't do more. I have an appointment."
He seemed to smile a little at that. "I must ask how you did it sir?"
"Hope…well it started with realizing that I had a chance to change things meaningfully and didn't bother asking until it was done." You said.
You thanked him for his time and left him to think, the Airman was returning with a note from logistics.
And you saw the biggest smile on that man's face as the Airman offered him part a bar of chocolate to celebrate.
It was happy news for him…something so rare at this time.
But you had an appointment to keep.
-------------------------------------------------
Jack had aged little better then you…but he'd aged slightly better all things considered. "Jack."
He didn't look up. "Floyd…come to Gloat?"
"Let me in." You ordered.
"Sir…he's-" The guard said.
"A tired old man, too stubborn to talk to another tired old man." You said.
The guard let you in and they waited.
"Can I sit Jack?" You asked.
"No." He said.
He was being stubborn.
"Jack…I'm going to be honest with you…What happened wasn't anyone's fault…it got out of control." You said grimacing.
"Are you passing blame onto Long, or me?" He said.
"What happened was the perfect clusterfuck of a clusterfuck and we both happened to be on the wrong sides of this." You said. "I didn't ask anyone to shoot anyone…it happened and we got into a war from some foolish desire to play the hero in all this and we have millions of dead to see it." You said.
"The Blood, of a Newborn called American Socialism is on your hands Floyd…murdered by Long and you…with the Proletariat on your hand, chained forever." He said.
"You're a fair bit pessimistic about all of this." You said. "The games not done yet?"
"It already is, you're playing nursemaid and passing what you can but it won't last…as soon as you're gone they will sweep it away and forget about you." He said. "This was our one chance…ONE Chance to change it for the better and you're pissing it all away." He said before he coughed slightly.
You sat down on his bed next to him and let him continue. "All I wanted was for the American People to change…CHANGE and THINK…to do something better than their useless and arrogant lives of..I don't even know what to call the last several years."
"Asking the American people to change is like pulling teeth from a tiger Jack…they are some of the dumbest, most stubborn and arrogant people ever, you can't order them around without six opinions, they only care about local problems half the time and can barely know which end of a map is anything past Europe or Mexico. And don't get me started on how they treat each other, they are liars, greedy and slimy…caring only about what happens in the next three months then the next three years." You said.
He was quiet, but the surprise was still apparent, you were telling him a lot of the personal opinions on the matter, especially what you saw in Congress coming to mind.
"Is there a point to all of this?" He said, good you're getting his attention.
"Jack…do you know about what most Americans actually care about? Don't answer, all of it is wrong." You said.
He looked at you, somewhat insulted. "Are you implying that I…a man who has fought for the Proletariat for years is wrong."
"A little." You said. "Maybe a lot."
"Coming from you I'm insulted. What happened to the IWW man of the Hour?" He said.
"I got older…maybe a little wiser." You said. "Had to deal with a mess or two along the way. But I managed."
"So…they aren't going to let anything you make stick, you know that right?" He said.
"They sure as hell try." You said. "But back to what the Americans want…LAND."
"Land? What does that mean?" He said.
"Americans want Land to own, manage, or even brag about…and well, I learned a great deal about Land and its importance in these last few years." You said.
"And what is that?" He said. "The Land of the Nation belongs to the Proletariat Floyd."
"Wrong…it doesn't belong to you…or the Proletariat, hell it doesn't even belong to the Government. Most of the time?" You said.
"Then who does it belong to?" He said.
"Yes…and No." You said a small grin gracing your face. "When I was in the west gauging Morale for the War, I met with the Native Americans Leadership for Advice on governing matters, you know, it started as a publicity thing…then I got really into it and they gave me some advice on what America is. Then we got really philosophical once I put my life experiences and what happened into perspective."
He raised an eyebrow. "And what perspective did the downtrodden result of American Imperialism give you?"
"Perspective, wisdom and a little bit of policy." You said. "Gave them some posting and responsibility as National and State Park Wardens' and I let them do some of their cultural practices in exchange for…you know continued Code Talking skills?"
"Code Talking? Is that how we-" He started.
"Native American Citizenship act of 1937 …squeaked that in with the Draft order under Congress's nose. Along with that Desegregation of the Military order." You said.
He almost smiled at that. "No wonder Long and I couldn't figure out your codes. Though I doubt that will heal the wounds of centuries of pain."
"That is for Time and the Generations to come to Heal…All I can do is try to make it easier." You said. "People are fickle things Jack, we can have long or short memories depending on how we feel."
"I feel like this is going somewhere?" He said.
"You'd be right…Most of America wants to see you hang for Treason…but we're already going to hand the militants in the party anyway…Killing you is a waste Jack…we've killed too many good men to add more to the pit of Death." You said.
You handed him a Paper. "Your agreement is required if you don't want to go to court?"
"And this is?" He asked.
"Collaboration Notice. Should you sign and get approved by an Administrator, you will be working a "Rehabilitation of the American Labor Union" and work off your sentences in a productive and healthy Manner, overseen by the National Labor Relations Board." You said.
"You've got to be-." He stopped. "What the hell is this?"
"Its a waste to hang you all, and a bigger one to deprive myself of like minded Voters, not only that your organizational skills and experience makes you all valuable in rebuilding the American Rust Belt and regaining the economic initiative." You said. "Though…sadly this courtesy was not extended to the AUS's holdings for security reasons."
He looked at you in a quiet awe for a moment. "What have you done?"
"Giving you a chance at atonement…in the eyes of the Public. The Klan and Silver Legion are giving us all the propaganda we need to keep a few people from asking why the South isn't being "Helped". That Infant of American Socialism is on life support but it isn't dead yet." You said.
You turned to leave. "Why do all this? Floyd?"
You didn't turn to face him. "Jack…at the end of the Day, despite everything a President's Duty is to prepare the Land and Nation for the Future and Heal the wounds if need be."
"Took you a war to figure it out?" He said.
"No…but it Took me a War to get an opportunity to make us all heal together. Don't think either of us will see it fully mended." You said.
He nodded. " I'll need to think about it?"
"We need to heal together Jack, sometimes its as hard or as easy as letting go. God knows we don't have enough time to regret everything when it comes. Just consider it." You said.
And so you left, with an offer and a promise as a gift.
AN: An optimistic look at the end of the CSA Federal Conflict, bad blood is still there but the Healing can begin in earnest.
If you squint you can see
@Tjakari Grand dad and My Grandpa bumping shoulders...or sharing chocolate over some good news.
Also Wartime Acts and Congress, with vague enough wordings, you can get anything through.
Yep even Native American Citizenship and Partial Desegregation