Jan Jourge looked at the papers as her aunt laid out them out on the table. The twenty-six year old woman’s investments were just under seven million dollars before 911, just over a third in stocks and two thirds in T-bills. The week after they were at just over six million, the loss of nearly a million dollars. Now three years later with the investment of about six million more of her salary the investment topped eighteen, over half in stocks and half in T-bills. During the weeks after 911 her aunt sold most of the T-bills and bought good stocks that were depressed. As the market recovered these stocks appreciated, she sold enough of the stocks to cover what had been taken out of T-bills and moved that of the money back to T-bills. The aunt reminded Jan that preserving the principal was a wise move. At twenty-six she could retire on about two million a year without another penny coming in from work. And there were royalties from School Dasy that would continue to come in. Last year she took out a quarter of a million and set up a fund for her parents that would pay them just over $2,500 a month for life. She did the same for each of her three siblings. She wanted the amount to be greater but she felt that to do too much too fast may not be good. She was shooting for each of them to have over $10,000 a month over the next five years. They had all helped her. This was the pay back. A million and a quarter dollars were earmarked for her aunt for an annuity, the first quarter was pulled out a year ago and she was getting that money already. When she told her aunt to make the first withdraw she protested. Jan was adamant. She wanted her aunt to be independent if something were to happen to her.

School Days and the long contracts ended two years ago. Jan learned something from that. During the next year she got a hundred thousand here, a hundred fifty there, seventy-five in another appearance. At first it worried her not having the security of the long solid contract. By the time six months had gone by she lamented this lack of security and income to her aunt. She laughed. “Jan. You have made over three million already this year. Just take the parts you want. You will have enough. After a particularly tough month that brought in over a million dollars, with three hard months ahead she tried to beg off a part that would shoot in three months. The studio made a concession, pushing back the start date a week to give her some time off. They made the offer. She had a busy day and did not answer immediately. They sent an amended offer. The original monitory of offer was six hundred thousand. The new offer was a full million. She vacillated for another day, they offered a million two. She signed. This was for a part in a full length film, not as a headliner but as a important part.

She had two more offers of like parts in short order, both for over a million. When the films aired they were hits. She was offered a co-lead part in a new film at two million dollars. The other lead was Judd Sanders from School Days. He was from a farm in Ohio. He lived in California to shoot but went back home to near Dayton as much as possible. He too had saved money. His investments were less than Jan’s, his earnings were a little lower and he had not invested as wisely but they were well over twelve million. He had not spent money on drugs and booze as had many of his peers.

Judd and Jan had seen each other only a few times since School Days closed until a year ago. Both had a rule, no dating current casts. It was too easy to get too close and make a bad mistake. They had two dates and neither called the other for a month. Then Judd called Jan from Ohio and asked her to drop in at his parent’s home. He had heard she was flying east and wanted to see her. She was headed to New York for a late night show spot and had four days off after it. The offer to stay at his home interested her when she learned his parents would be there and although she had never seen it, Dayton was a special place for her. Her dad was Air Force and she had always wanted to see the Air Museum at Dayton. She took a red-eye to New York, taped the show the next evening and took the red eye to Dayton. She rented a car and showed up at his parent’s home dead tired. She spent one day with the family. She mentioned that she wanted to see the museum and she and Judd decided to see it together. As they wandered through the displays he marveled at the amount she knew about the planes. He had been there several times with his dad but it had never been this relevant. She would point to an exhibit and tell him about it as they approached. She would know the plane type, where and when it fought, and sometimes details about its armament and engine. It was like she memorized Air Force history. At first he thought it was just guesses but when she was right too many times he realized she was brighter than he had ever guessed. When they passed the B-47 she told him a story. Her Grandfather was Air Force too. He flew on one of them modified for recon called an RB-47. They flew off the coast and listened to enemy radio and radar. Sometimes the Russians got angry. Off the coast of Norway one of his fellow pilots was met by a flight of Russian fighters. They were forced to land in Russian territory and be captured or be shot down. She told of the pictures her grandfather had of the men. Judd was amazed at her understanding. It was like listening to his grandfather talking about his experiences but she was so young.

The next day they drove around the Dayton area and visited the Wright Bicycle shop. The following morning she packed, said thanks to his mom and dad and started to the car. Half-way to the car she turned to George Sanders. “Did you serve in the military?”

“Yes. Grunt, on the ground like my dad, grandfather and great grandfather.”

“Where?”

“I did Granada. My dad did Viet Nam. My grandfather did Korea and WW2, great grandpa did the Belau Wood.”

She looked at him, eyes glazed, stood straight and snapped a salute. “I know I have no right to do that but it is the only way I know to say what I want to say. My family has always been up above, my dad was a Navigator on a B-52, my Grandfather a ECM on an RB-47, and my great-Grandfather was a bombardier on a B-17. My great-great was an air observer in 1918. It seems good to say thanks to those who fought on the ground and took risks.”

His face turned stern. “Young lady. Do not belittle one bit what they did. The guys up there took risks too, some of them terrible risks and a lot of them died. Air observers and pilots in the great war flew without parachutes. Fire was common.” He stopped and swallowed. “B-17 duty was bad, really bad. You had to do twenty eight missions and early in the war there was only a fifty-fifty chance of surviving them. Several RB-47’s went down in peace-time and a lot of their missions were over very cold water. If the plane developed problems and went down in the cold water you didn’t survive. And B-52 duty was not a soft job either in SAC or in the missions later in Vietnam. SAM’s took out more than a few of them. None of the fly boys had a free ride, including the ones who flew the C47 cargo flights. Even the wing wipers didn’t have it easy.”

“Wing wipers? Who are they?” She had visions of someone wiping a wing in flight.”

“The ground crews. They had it pretty tough at times. At Guadalcanal they held off a couple Banzai charges with whatever they had. Nobody got a free ride.”

“Can you tell me where your Grandfather served? He was in World War 2 and Korea, right?”

“Sure. But you probably have never heard of either of them. He was at Inchon in Korea and he was with the Band of Brothers across Europe.”

She lowered her head and then looked up with tears in her eyes. “Inchon landing. The Chosen Few. Many of the ones who survived the enemy were killed by the weather. There are few units that have ever distinguished themselves as much. The Band of Brothers, Normandy to Bastogne and on. I know the major battles.”

“He didn’t make it the whole way, he was badly wounded at Bastogne and only got back in the line just before VE. He stayed in the army. He was airlifted out of Inchon after about two weeks with a leg wound. He stayed in the line for a week after he was wounded. With the wound, frostbite and infection, he lost the leg above the knee.”

She turned to Judd. “You should be proud of them. You didn’t tell me about this. Do you have any idea what your ancestors gave for this country?”

“Well.”

Her mom chimed in. “My grandfather served on a boat in the Pacific.”

“A submarine? Do you know which one?”

“He was on a couple boats. One I remember was the Wahoo. He said he got sick just before they went out on a patrol, he was in the hospital, they put him on shore duty while he recuperated and by the time he was fit the war was over.”

Judd looked at his mom. “A ship called Wahoo? That’s weird. Are you sure?”

Before his mom could answer Jan stepped in. “The Wahoo was a boat. That is what they call a submarine. They aren’t ships, they are boats. And the Wahoo was lost on a patrol. I can’t remember if it was Dick O’Kane or Mush Morton who was the skipper.”

“I remember the name, Morton. I thought I didn’t understand the first name.”

“Mush was what they called him. I am not sure of his real first name.”

“You are kidding.”

“No. I am just awed to know this family.”

She walked over to his dad, hugged him, then his mom. “That’s because I can’t thank each of them. I am sure I don’t know what they really gave but I have an idea and it is awesome.”

Judd looked at her. “Don’t I get the same?”

“When you prove yourself.” She got in the car and left.

When she was gone he turned to his mom. “And you thought.”

She was crying. “She knew a submarine was a boat and she knew the Chosen few and Bastogne. She is definitely a cut above the usual Hollywood girls I have seen.”

His dad turned to him, “If you ever get a chance to snag and tag one like her don’t be stupid and blow it.”

“I tried. It didn’t work. She is the one I want. She apparently thinks I’m not good enough. Mom was so cold too. I would have felt unwanted.”

“I was just waiting for her to turn into the usual floozy or get stoned.”

“I told you she wasn’t that way.”

In the car Jan was fuming. Why hadn’t she gone with her heart and given him a hug and kissed him? Maybe, just maybe he would have responded. He was certainly the best of the lot but he was so boring. And then she wondered. What did she need with the excitement some of her friends had, guys who were drugged out, drunked out, girlfriend beaters who slept around. She almost turned back but thought better of it. His mom had been cold. She didn’t need to go back and face that. Maybe another time.

List of chapters

Jan Chapter 01: School Days

Jan Chapter 02: Four Hours From Disaster

Jan Chapter 03: Ten Seconds to Disaster

Jan Chapter 04: Shifting the Blame

Jan Chapter 05: The Burn Unit

Jan Chapter 06: A New Lawyer

Jan Chapter 07: The Studio Tries an End Run

Jan Chapter 09: Evidence Clears the Equipment

Jan Chapter 10: Just Who is Amanda Blair and Does It Matter