Chapter 36

I was busy most of the first part of the week, getting everything ready for our trip up to Salem. I spent half of Monday and Tuesday with Ken, in search of an attorney who would agree to defend the partnership's participants claims in front of the Internal Revenue Service, should it ever come to that. The workaround that Ken had come up with was tricky, but, if it was disallowed, the tax advantages would also be nullified. Ken felt that we needed an attorney who understood the logic behind each part of the partnership, one who could then prepare a winning argument in it's defense.

The difficulty is that few tax lawyers at the time were prepared to give much value to a tax shelter designed by an accountant. In Ken's partnership, one class of partners participated in the partnership income stream at a much higher rate than the other class of partners. The other class of partners received all of the partnership's tax write offs though. Ken was planning on bringing in fixed income pensioners with a need for a high, almost certain return, and high income investors interested primarily in tax write offs and asset appreciation. I thought it was brilliant, and made maximum use of catering to the diverse needs of people with money to invest. In essence, the income partners were loaning money to the risk partners, who, in turn, agreed to subordinate their claims to the income partners claims in the event there was any loss of principle. I'm not sure who invented this in my other lifetime, but I'd seen something like it in the mid sixties, as a way of funding building projects. Ken planned on using it to fund numerous tax shelter programs, bringing the write offs above 170% for the risk partners, and yielding 9% annually for the income partners.

We finally found a young tax attorney who was bright and hungry for new business. He and Ken seemed to hit it off well, so I paid him the five thousand dollar retainer he required, and put him to work researching a defense. I had decided that I would try to fly up to a field just south of Sacramento to refuel, and then would head up to Redding to spend the night. It was only a three hour flight from Redding to Salem. I figured four and a half hours to Sacramento, another one and a half to Redding, and then three into Salem.

On the return flight, I planned on flying it in two long legs, Salem to Sacramento, and from there to Santa Ana. The first leg would be pushing my range if we ran into headwinds, but leaving as early as we planned, I could land and refuel at any one of a dozen fields along the route I had planned.

I called Tom Foley on Tuesday, and he filled me in on the fuel contamination problem. As I had suspected, it wasn't anything serious, and the plane was once again ready for flight. I dropped by on Wednesday afternoon to see Diane and make sure that everything was still on track for our trip. We went out to eat, and had a little make out session in my car. Diane still seemed worried about how I'd fit in with her friends and family, but I had no doubts about any of that myself.

Thursday, at a little before one, we were in the air, and on a heading for Sacramento. I had packed light, $10,000.00, my ditty bag full of toothbrush, razors, rubbers, etc, and four complete changes of clothes. I was wearing a pair of shoes, and had my boots and a pair of sneakers along as well. Diane had her suitcase, her purse and was carrying a heavy jacket. It was the first week of October, I hadn't even brought a sweater. We landed in Sacramento at four fifty, refueled, and were in the air again by five fifteen. We got to Redding, topped off the tanks, and tied down, all before seven thirty.

We hitched a ride into Redding, and were forced to settle for a room in a boarding house next to a restaurant. There were no better choices available to us, since the other commercial rooms were all filled up with some logging convention or lumberman's jamboree. It was eight dollars for the night, and I still felt overcharged even then. Instead of the romantic night I had envisioned, all of it spent making love with Diane, we both wound up tossing and turning on a lumpy mattress between sheets that felt like they had been starched. In the room next to ours, there was an all night poker game going on, with attendant laughing, swearing, and the raucous yelling from men who were probably drinking too much, and gambling for more than they could afford to lose.

We still managed to fool around a little, but it wasn't what I had hoped for. The community bathroom was located out at the end of a long hallway, and I had to accompany Diane when she needed to get up and use the facilities.

I wasn't sorry to see the last of Redding, even though we got ourselves a great breakfast early the next morning at a little coffee shop next to the police station. We were driven back to the airport by one of the policemen from Redding, which I thought was a very nice gesture. By eight, we were in the air and headed towards Salem. After we landed and I tied down the plane in my assigned parking area, I managed to rent a car from the fuel operator. Because of my age, he required that I leave a three hundred dollar cash deposit with him. The car was probably only worth about five hundred.

With all of our stuff transferred over to the rental car, we drove off towards Diane's farm. It was actually south of Salem, on a farmer's market road that was unpaved but well maintained by someone. We turned left at a mail box about five miles down the road, and I saw the home that she was raised in for the first time. It was old, weatherbeaten, and very small. It had probably been whitewashed sometime in the past fifteen years, and the front porch was in bad disrepair. I was almost afraid to step up on it.

Diane, on the other hand, ran right up on that porch and opened the screen door and ran inside. I stood there, in front of the porch and listened to sounds of a happy surprise reunion. It was about five minutes before Diane reappeared, with her mother and father in tow. She was crying again, but this time it wasn't from any sadness, just the opposite in fact.

"Jimmy, this is my mom and dad, Clarence and Florence Lowery. Daddy, mom, this is Jimmy, my boyfriend. We flew here in Jimmy's airplane." I got my hand shaken by Clarence. He was a big man, with rough, strong hands. He had the same color of red hair as Diane, and he must have weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds. I didn't see much fat on him either. Florence was content to hold herself back on the porch and give me a little wave of greeting. She was built more like Diane, tall and thin. Her hair was a faded out very light brown, sort of a mousy brown color I'd call it. If anything, she had less in the way of breasts than her daughter did. She had a very nice smile though. They convinced me to come inside with them. The inside of the house was better. Everything looked clean and well organized. The furniture looked old, but it had been kept up, unlike that porch. I found out that the farm was one hundred and twenty acres, and even with that small of a farm, it was difficult for one man to keep up with it by himself. Ever since Tim, Diane's brother, had left, three years ago, things had been difficult for the Lowery's.

Like Diane, her parents were disarmingly open about their lives. They discussed Clarence's falling out with Tim, and the fact that Tim had been the one who actually did most of the planning, and worked to keep the machinery and equipment operating and repaired. They hadn't seen him since he left home in a huff, after a big argument with Clarence, and neither of them had any idea about where he was now living. Clarence was a good, hard worker, but he wasn't very bright. The farm had belonged in Florence's family since her great grandparent's had settled it in 1874. Clarence had been a hired hand who worked during harvest season for Florence's father. The two had gotten married right after Florence's father had found out she was expecting a baby, and Clarence was the father. When Florence's parents had died, Clarence and Florence took out a mortgage on the farm in order to buy out Florence's sister's share. It was this mortgage that was worrying them now. The bank was threatening to foreclose if the mortgage interest wasn't brought current.

I asked them how much they needed to get caught up, and was surprised that it was less than thirty one hundred dollars. Things were quickly coming to a head now that the bank had refused to honor the thousand dollar check for Diane's school expenses. They had written it on the checking account that was a part of their farm and equipment mortgage. All of their farm income, all of their equipment, and the farm itself, was tied up in this single mortgage account. The bank had everything they owned mortgaged to secure their loan. In the past three years, the bank had been refusing to release any of the farm income other than small sums for necessities, to run the farm operation, or to make repairs. The Lowery's were screwed, and they knew it. The total amount of their mortgage, even including the arrears, was fifty one thousand dollars.

<Can you locate Timothy Lowery for me?>

He is living in Tigard, by Portland, sixty miles north of here.

<What's he do for a living?>

Casual labor, and he helps out in a junk yard in return for room and board.

"Mr. Lowery, I have a friend who can locate Tim. If I find him, what would you like to say to him?" There was silence. Clarence just looked at me, but didn't speak. He looked angry. Florence spoke up then.

"Tim has to say he's sorry for what he said. A boy has no call to speak that way to his daddy. I won't have him in my house until he says he was wrong and is sorry."

"What did he say?"

"That's between him and his daddy. It's no concern of yours." Diane stepped in then.

"Jimmy, Timmy said Daddy was dumb, and he was going to lose the farm if he didn't listen to what Timmy was telling him." Clarence stood up then and left the room, but not before glaring at his daughter. Florence got up too, and went to be with Clarence. "Daddy isn't dumb, he was kicked in the head by a goat when he was seven years old. It takes him a little while to think things through, but when he does, he's as smart as anyone else. Timmy was just upset, I'm sure he didn't really mean it. He's just like Daddy though, stubborn as a mule. He won't ever back down and neither will Daddy. It's sad too, because Timmy was always Daddy's pride and joy. That's why it hurt him so much when Timmy said that to him."

"It doesn't make sense, two grown men working together all those years. You can't tell me that they never had arguments before that day?"

"I don't remember any cross words between them, ever before. It was just the one time when Daddy wouldn't let Timmy buy the irrigation pipe from Mr. Glynnis. He said the old way they did it was all right, and we didn't need the fancy pipes to get water to the crops. Timmy had been out in the fields all day, trying to make the water run up hill. It must have made him testier than usual, because he lit right into Daddy. They almost came to blows. Timmy packed some clothes and took off that night. We don't even know if he's alive."

"He's alive. My guardian angel has him located. Would you like to drive up and go see him?"

"YOU KNOW WHERE TIMMY IS?" Diane screamed this and brought both of her parents running to see why she'd said that. "He knows where Timmy is. He told me he did."

This wasn't exactly what I was planning on when I told her about her brother. Clarence spoke up first, looking right at me.

"Is he all right? Is he close by?" Florence might still harbor a grudge, and Clarence might too, but Clarence still had a lot of love for his only son. That much was evident by his tone when he asked those two questions. I debated on what I was going to tell him, about his son, and about how I came by this information in the first place. I could see that Florence was highly skeptical of Diane's claim of my knowing where her son was.

"Diane and I are going up to see him right now. We'll talk to him and find out whether he wants to reconcile. We'll tell him that he has to apologize to you or else he can't come back."

"I don't need an apology for me, not for what he said about being dumb. He needs to apologize to his mother though, for not writing or letting her know he was safe somewhere. He didn't have to worry her for three years just because he was mad at me."

"Clarry, he isn't stepping one foot on this property unless he takes it back. That was a terrible, shameful, hurtful thing he said. I won't have any child of mine being disrespectful his own father like that. If this means I never see him again, well, then I won't, that's all."

"Flo, I wish you wouldn't say that. It probably just slipped out of him from being tired and upset. I never thought he meant it. It's his running off and then not letting us know if he was all right that had me riled up." Clarence was almost pleading with his wife to relent, but she wouldn't hear another word about it.

"I've said what I wanted, and that's what I mean too. He doesn't set one foot on this property until he's apologized to you."

So, we had our marching orders, we could go see Tim if we wanted to, but not bring him home unless he was willing to apologize to his father. This wasn't exactly turning out to be the trip that I'd envisioned. We grabbed Diane's suitcase and put it back in the car. Mine had never left, because we weren't sure what my sleeping arrangements were going to be. We made it to Tigard by four thirty, and with the guardian's directions, made it to the junk yard on the edge of town a few minutes later. Of course, Tim wasn't even there when we arrived, and we had to talk to the owner of the junk yard to find out when he was expected. Apparently, he was running a gear taken out of an old clothes wringer washing machine over to a customer, and was expected back soon. We waited.

Tim showed up after half an hour. He was a big man, a lot like his father in appearance, but his eyes told you right away that he was intelligent. When he pulled the truck up beside the junk yard entrance, he spotted Diane, who was leaning against the passenger side door of our rental car. He jumped out of the truck and ran to her.

"Sissy, what are you doing here? How did you ever find me? Has anything happened to Daddy or mom?"

Diane wrapped her brother up in a smothering hug and the two of them spent the next five minutes making all of the noises that loved ones do when they've been separated for a long, long time. Diane had been sixteen the last time she had seen her brother. It was an emotional reunion for both of them. Finally, they stopped long enough for Diane to introduce me to her brother.

"Timmy, this is Jimmy, my boyfriend. It was him that told me how to find you. Jimmy, this is my brother, Tim Lowery."

We shook hands, and then I told them I was starving and we could talk more over dinner. Tim ran inside and spoke with the boss, and then went and got himself cleaned up while we waited. Diane was excited over seeing her brother again. She told me that she had always assumed that something bad had happened to him, especially after no one had heard from him for a few months. Tim came out, and we all hopped into the rental car. Tim directed us to a nearby restaurant. We ate and talked. As soon as Diane brought up the topic of Tim going back to the farm, I saw him perk up and listen.

<How does he feel about what happened?>

He regrets what he said, and has wanted to go back home almost from the time he first left. He is afraid that he wouldn't be welcomed back home. In the past three years he has worked on several other farms, and this job he has now with the junk yard isn't work that he enjoys. He misses working on his own farm. That is how he always thought of it, as his farm. One problem I anticipate is that he would have trouble admitting that the argument that provoked the incident was in any way his fault, although he would apologize for the name calling incident alone if that would serve.

"Tim, did you know that it looks like your family will lose the farm?" I like to wade in with all guns blazing.

"I'm not surprised. Daddy never did anything to work the farm efficiently. He always chose the hard way, especially if it saved him any money at all. I'm surprised he isn't still plowing with a horse. How bad is it?"

I filled him in on the farm finances as well as I understood them, and told him that the way the loan was structured, as an all inclusive wrap around farm and equipment loan, his parents were at the mercy of the bank. They could get squeezed whenever the bank decided they wanted to do it. I could see the look of frustration and defeat in his facial expressions.

"There is one way that the farm could be saved, Tim, but that would depend on how important it was to you."

"To me? I haven't even been there for more than three years. What has it got to do with me?"

"The farm could be refinanced, but only if you were there working it with your father. It is too much for any one man to handle alone, and your dad can't afford to bring someone in for wages. The risk would be too high of it failing again anyway, without you there to take care of most maintenance, and to keep all the farm equipment operating. There is a lot of work that needs doing, work that your father doesn't have the money or the skills to do."

"If he asked me, I'd come back. He'd have to ask though."

"That's why it's all so sad. You won't go back unless you're asked, and your mother won't let you back unless you apologize to your father first. Your father is upset because you've stayed away without letting them know whether you were even alive. I wonder if you realize how difficult it's been for them, not knowing if you were alive?"

"I couldn't take any more of his refusing to work smarter. It didn't have to be so hard. I'm not a mule, neither is he. He wouldn't listen to me."

"Well, we tried. Diane we need to get back to the farm. I want you to spend time with your folks. You've seen Tim now, and you can tell them both that he's okay. You were right about all three of them. It's too bad about the farm, but we tried." I called for the waitress to bring me the check.

"I'd have to have some time to think about it. I didn't say I wouldn't come back. What did mom say about me?"

"She said she never wanted to set eyes on you again until you apologized to your dad. She's always been sensitive about people thinking he's slow, and then you, the person he loves the most, went ahead and called him dumb like that. I know she knows it was just because you were mad, and upset that he wouldn't listen to your advice. But, she loves you anyway, and she still hopes that someday you'll be man enough to apologize to him for it."

"She's still so mad about what I said three years ago?"

"Mad enough to lose a farm which has been in her family for almost a hundred years. Mad enough to lose her only son over it. I'd say she's mad enough, and I don't see it getting any better either, not until she dies, or you apologize to your dad."

"If I did what you say, are you sure the bank would refinance?"

"No, the bank wouldn't, but I'd refinance, with the understanding that the loan was in force only as long as you and your dad were working the farm together. If you left again, I'd have to foreclose to protect my investment."

"Why would you do that for them? Are you so rich that you can do things like that? "