Secrets of Sea Pines - Chapter 1

1947

ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Atlanta in August was not the time or place that Joseph Gramer wanted to be. He lived in a small town called Hinesville, about one hundred miles away. Although the Georgia sun was just as intense in Hinesville, dozens of palmetto trees in his yard provided a blanket of shade for his home. His back porch overlooked a large lake. If the wind was right, he and his wife Pearl spent hours in the shade with a crisp breeze coming in from the water. If it got too hot, he simply jumped in.

Joseph was a successful man at fifty years old and dressed the part. His face was prematurely wrinkled from a lifetime of stress that made him look closer to sixty, but he still had an aura of vigor about him. He was tall, lean, and in perfect physical condition. There was just enough gray hair left on his head for the need of a comb.

Women found him attractive, and men respected him. After all, everyone in town knew that he had fought in two wars—The First and Second World Wars. To be in active duty for two wars and come home without a scratch was something to be commended, and commended he was. He retired from the military as Lieutenant General and was soon elected mayor of Hinesville.

During his military career, he’d found the time to amass a small fortune in lumber. Thirty years ago, he’d started as a lumber hauler for a local company and had eventually opened his own lumber mill that he now ran with his son, Charles.

Again… Why did I have to come to Atlanta in August? Hinesville is so much better, he thought while wiping sweat from his brow. He was here for one reason and one reason only: his wife. Her fiftieth birthday was fast approaching, and he wanted to get her something extra special. Nothing at the local gift shop rose to the standards of “special enough” for his loving Pearl. He had spent weeks combing through catalogs and newspapers, searching for that one thing that would show her just how much he loved her. Finally, one day, while walking in downtown Hinesville, he stopped at a news rack to pick up a copy of the Atlanta Gazette. He liked to read this paper at least once a week to keep abreast of national and world news. The Hinesville paper was fine for local news and events, but Joseph found the need for a broader scope of coverage.

A couple of weeks back, while sitting on a park bench across from the local Presbyterian Church in Hinesville, he began his Saturday morning ritual. He sipped his black coffee from the Lighthouse Café and read his newspaper. It was his way of escaping from a long week of work and spending some quality time with himself. This day was one of those rare summer days in Georgia that everyone prayed for. There was an occasional white, fluffy cloud floating through the bright blue sky, little humidity, and a pleasant breeze. This did not go unnoticed. Joseph could sit there all day, but Pearl was waiting for him on their back porch with a glass of sweet tea and maybe a biscuit with her homemade jam. He wouldn’t miss that for the world.

While browsing through the newspaper, he came across an advertisement for an upcoming auction in Atlanta. The only auctions he had ever attended were cattle auctions when he was growing up. He chuckled, thinking about how much he’d enjoyed listening to the auctioneer talk so quickly. He could not understand a word the man was saying, but the whole atmosphere had been so exciting. Part of him yearned for the naivety he’d had as a child. Life was good as an adult, but something about a child's innocence appealed to him.

This auction was to be held in August and contained items from New England’s colonial period.

“Perfect,” he said aloud to no one in particular. Pearl loved the colonial period. She would read book after book about the Boston Tea Party, Paul Revere, Plymouth Plantation, and other related topics. What interested her most of all were the Salem Witch Trials. She would read books and pamphlets about the subject and then share all her learnings with him. He found it spooky, so he did not share the same passion she had for the topic, but he was always willing to listen.

Maybe I can buy something at this auction of real value that she will treasure forever. To do so, he had to think of a way to keep it a secret. He could not just tell her he was going to Atlanta to buy her a gift. It needed to be a surprise. Simple. He would tell her he had to go to Atlanta for business, which he occasionally did and would come home with a thoughtful gift for his wife of almost thirty years.

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As he walked the Atlanta streets, the humidity was unbearable. Droplets of sweat poured relentlessly down his face as he walked to the auction. It was like someone opened the floodgates to a dam. He wanted to take off his jacket, but there were two problems. One, it would be improper, and two, he could only imagine what his undershirt looked like. A short-sleeved shirt wouldn’t even help on a day like this. He imagined his blue oxford shirt looked like he had just taken a dip in his backyard oasis.

After looking at his watch, the leather band seemingly glued to his wrist, Joseph realized that the auction started in only twenty minutes. Since he was a few blocks away from the auction house, a huge smile came across his face. He knew all the items to be auctioned off since a list of them had been mailed to his office. He had studied the items for a week, so he would be ready to bid on the ones he knew Pearl would love. That was one thing he’d learned from his military career: Be prepared.

While spending hours looking over the items, one particular stood out: a document written by Cotton Mather. Mather was a New England Puritan clergyman and writer in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries who had been a prominent figure in the Salem Witch Trials. He wrote hundreds of pamphlets and books, but there was only one that Joseph wanted—On Witchcraft. It was a first edition from the library of a man from Plymouth, Massachusetts. It was to be auctioned today. If Joseph could bring this book home to his darling Pearl, he knew he would get sweet tea and biscuits every day until he died. He laughed to himself just thinking about it.

The auction house was on the first floor of a three-story brick townhouse on a street lined with gas light posts and cobblestone sidewalks. The first thing he thought of when he walked up the stairs of the building was that it reminded him of Boston, where he and Pearl vacationed a few years back to tour the historical sights. It was one of Pearl’s favorite vacations ever. They’d walked the Freedom Trail, seen the Boston Tea Party, and toured Harvard Yard. She still talked about it to this day. As he entered the auction house, the fans blew the oven-like heat from one place to another. All they accomplished was to help dry the sweat from his face.

“Good afternoon,” said a beautiful young lady with “Gretchen” handwritten on her name tag.

“Good afternoon, Gretchen,” replied Joseph. “I’m here to register for today's auction.”

“Simply fill out your name and address in this book, and I will provide you with an auction paddle. Once you are interested in an item, all you have to do is raise the paddle to bid,” she explained with an overly eager smile.

He did as he was told and sat next to an old couple sitting in the front row. Dozens of people filled the tight rows of seats. The crowd and perceived demand for the auctioned items did not frighten Joseph since he’d already decided that he was taking home the Mather book regardless of what it cost him. After all, he had the money. He lived a frugal lifestyle and never splurged on anything for himself. Pearl was another story. He did not hesitate to spend whatever was necessary to make her happy, and today was just the day for that.

As the auction started, adrenaline surged through him more than anything. His pulse was racing, but he’d learned in the Army as a skilled rifle sniper that to complete a critical mission, one had to keep calm no matter the situation. Like a Hall of Fame baseball player at the plate with two outs in the ninth inning of a tied ballgame, nerves and excitement meant nothing to him. He had a job to do, and, by God, he would see it done.

He watched as the first dozen or so items went up for auction. Some of them did not sell. Others sold for reasonable amounts that he would be glad to pay for his intended purchase. When Cotton Mather's book came up, they started the bidding at ten dollars. Joseph quickly raised his paddle for the first offer. The old man sitting beside him raised his paddle when the bid went to twenty.

Once the old man bid, the others began to hesitate. This was no surprise to Joseph; the old man had bid on several items and won three of them already. It was obvious that the guy had money and was not afraid to spend it. Each time the old man won an item, Joseph congratulated him. The old man and his wife had been gracious in returning his gestures.

When the auctioneer asked for thirty, Joseph duly raised his paddle. This kept up in one of the tensest battles of the day until Joseph finally outbid the old man with a final bid of seventy-five dollars. He was thrilled with his win, even if it was off-putting that the old man did not congratulate him on it.

Not so gracious now. But who cares?

He’d just gotten Pearl the best fiftieth birthday present he could think of. It was time to collect his book and get out of this hellhole. Unfortunately, he had to sit and wait another hour or two until the auction was complete so he could pay and collect his prize. During that time, he sat and wondered what the look on her face would be like when she unwrapped her gift. That made the time go by much faster than he’d anticipated.