A crime novel that reflects on racial identity and injustice
The Man Who Fell - a novel from award-winning journalist Bill Fletcher, Jr.
Chapter One of The Man Who Fell
On that warm June morning in 1970, Margie Smith had no idea that after giving him his morning kiss good-bye she would never again see her husband alive. She would later ask herself whether she would have done anything differently. Would she have held onto him a bit longer? Would she have whispered something to him that she wanted him to have always known, even if she had told him the same thing a thousand times? Would she have looked at him differently?
That early morning was not especially different than any other morning in the Smith household. Thomas Julius Smith, "TJ" to his friends and business associates, was the owner of a construction firm in Osterville, Mass, on Cape Cod. As with every other work day morning, TJ and Margie were up by 5 AM preparing for the day. His wife moved quickly, washing up and putting on a simple house dress, then headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. TJ joined her, taking his seat at the kitchen table.
With a kiss on the top of her husband's head, Margie placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him prepared just the way he liked it. TJ patted her hand and turned back to his plans for the day.
Their oldest child, Antoinette, had just graduated from American University in Washington, DC and was preparing to enter Northeastern University Law School that fall in Boston. Their son Frank, a high school graduate, was preparing to enter the US Coast Guard. While it was true that Frank loved the water, his main preoccupation was staying as far away from the Vietnam War as possible.
TJ and Margie never spoke much in the morning, they both needed time to sort out their tasks for the day and for shaking loose the cobwebs in their heads. This particular morning was no different.
Margie was a multi-tasker. In her late 40s, like her husband she was always busy with her projects. She sold Avon products. On occasion she would work as a cashier in a local grocery store. But most importantly, she did the books for TJ's construction company, All-Cape Construction. She was very much TJ's partner in thinking through business decisions and watching the firm's finances, despite the many men associated with the company who resented a woman playing such a role.
On this particular morning, while their son was asleep in his room TJ and Margie sat drinking coffee and eating a light breakfast of cold cereal and toast. In the background the television announced the early morning news from Providence, Rhode Island, a story playing about US troops in Cambodia and another speech by President Nixon.
TJ looked at his watch and sighed. "Well, Margie, it's that hour. I need to head to the office." He finished off his coffee and stood up from the table. "I've got a meeting with the crew first thing. Some of them have been acting like assholes recently and I'm not happy with the quality of the rehab work we've been doing."
"TJ, I've been telling you for months that there's something wrong with your crew. That Robertson seems like a real hothead. Why do you keep that guy? Looks like he's out of work more than on, he can't be doing a good job."
TJ immediately regretted having said something to Margie, since he knew she was correct. He also knew that she knew she was right. There had been problems on the crew for some time that TJ had not addressed. Today he was set on grabbing these guys by their balls and squeezing until they got the message. But he didn't want to say anything more to Margie about it now, there would be plenty of time to talk later.
"You're right as always, Margie."
Hugging her lightly as he walked by, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips and on her cheek, then headed for the back door.
"See you this evening, honey. Unless you need me at the office I'll be here. See you around seven?"
"Yep," was all he said, Margie hearing him clearly through the screen door.
As TJ headed to his truck, Margie went downstairs to put a load of clothes in the washing machine. She looked at the clock and realized that she needed to check on Frank to make sure he was up and ready to eat something. Although school was over, he had secured a job until he started with the Coast Guard.
When Margie returned to the first floor from the basement she went over to the kitchen sink, where she could look through a window and see a corner of the driveway. She noticed that TJ's truck was still sitting in the driveway, which was odd, unless he was sitting there writing up some notes. She didn't hear the engine running, the only sounds she could hear were birds and the occasional car passing by.
Curious about what could be holding TJ up, she walked outside. Turning the corner on the walkway that led from the driveway to the house she stopped. In fact, everything seemed to stop.
Margie could not see TJ's head from where she was standing. He seemed to be leaning over to his right toward the passenger's side of the truck. What she could see was shattered glass and jagged edges of what remained of the driver's side window. As she inched closer, her heart pounding, nothing got any better. When she opened the driver's side door, she found TJ lying on the passenger's seat with part of his head blown off.
Margie Smith's scream pierced the air, startling the birds into flight.
That early morning was not especially different than any other morning in the Smith household. Thomas Julius Smith, "TJ" to his friends and business associates, was the owner of a construction firm in Osterville, Mass, on Cape Cod. As with every other work day morning, TJ and Margie were up by 5 AM preparing for the day. His wife moved quickly, washing up and putting on a simple house dress, then headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. TJ joined her, taking his seat at the kitchen table.
With a kiss on the top of her husband's head, Margie placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him prepared just the way he liked it. TJ patted her hand and turned back to his plans for the day.
Their oldest child, Antoinette, had just graduated from American University in Washington, DC and was preparing to enter Northeastern University Law School that fall in Boston. Their son Frank, a high school graduate, was preparing to enter the US Coast Guard. While it was true that Frank loved the water, his main preoccupation was staying as far away from the Vietnam War as possible.
TJ and Margie never spoke much in the morning, they both needed time to sort out their tasks for the day and for shaking loose the cobwebs in their heads. This particular morning was no different.
Margie was a multi-tasker. In her late 40s, like her husband she was always busy with her projects. She sold Avon products. On occasion she would work as a cashier in a local grocery store. But most importantly, she did the books for TJ's construction company, All-Cape Construction. She was very much TJ's partner in thinking through business decisions and watching the firm's finances, despite the many men associated with the company who resented a woman playing such a role.
On this particular morning, while their son was asleep in his room TJ and Margie sat drinking coffee and eating a light breakfast of cold cereal and toast. In the background the television announced the early morning news from Providence, Rhode Island, a story playing about US troops in Cambodia and another speech by President Nixon.
TJ looked at his watch and sighed. "Well, Margie, it's that hour. I need to head to the office." He finished off his coffee and stood up from the table. "I've got a meeting with the crew first thing. Some of them have been acting like assholes recently and I'm not happy with the quality of the rehab work we've been doing."
"TJ, I've been telling you for months that there's something wrong with your crew. That Robertson seems like a real hothead. Why do you keep that guy? Looks like he's out of work more than on, he can't be doing a good job."
TJ immediately regretted having said something to Margie, since he knew she was correct. He also knew that she knew she was right. There had been problems on the crew for some time that TJ had not addressed. Today he was set on grabbing these guys by their balls and squeezing until they got the message. But he didn't want to say anything more to Margie about it now, there would be plenty of time to talk later.
"You're right as always, Margie."
Hugging her lightly as he walked by, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips and on her cheek, then headed for the back door.
"See you this evening, honey. Unless you need me at the office I'll be here. See you around seven?"
"Yep," was all he said, Margie hearing him clearly through the screen door.
As TJ headed to his truck, Margie went downstairs to put a load of clothes in the washing machine. She looked at the clock and realized that she needed to check on Frank to make sure he was up and ready to eat something. Although school was over, he had secured a job until he started with the Coast Guard.
When Margie returned to the first floor from the basement she went over to the kitchen sink, where she could look through a window and see a corner of the driveway. She noticed that TJ's truck was still sitting in the driveway, which was odd, unless he was sitting there writing up some notes. She didn't hear the engine running, the only sounds she could hear were birds and the occasional car passing by.
Curious about what could be holding TJ up, she walked outside. Turning the corner on the walkway that led from the driveway to the house she stopped. In fact, everything seemed to stop.
Margie could not see TJ's head from where she was standing. He seemed to be leaning over to his right toward the passenger's side of the truck. What she could see was shattered glass and jagged edges of what remained of the driver's side window. As she inched closer, her heart pounding, nothing got any better. When she opened the driver's side door, she found TJ lying on the passenger's seat with part of his head blown off.
Margie Smith's scream pierced the air, startling the birds into flight.
Bill Fletcher Jr., the author of "They're Bankrupting Us!" (Beacon Press, 2012) is a long-time racial-justice, labor, and international activist, scholar, and author. He has been involved in the labor movement for decades and is a widely known speaker and writer in print and on radio, television, and the Web. He has served in leadership positions with many prominent union and labor organizations, including the AFL-CIO and the Service Employees International Union. Fletcher is currently the director of field services for the American Federation of Government Employees.