Fortress Farm - The Pullback
*****
Lamar and Charlotte’s entire family and church friends showed up for supper that night. Nearly forty people filled the house, porch, and folding tables in the backyard. The yard didn’t hold as many people as a typical lawn, either. The Jenkins filled nearly every space with 4x4 garden boxes holding every vegetable, fruit and herb suitable to the DC climate.
Rusty was amazed by the wide array of homemade items the Jenkins could create. I’ve been hypothetical about personal responsibility. The Jenkins were actually doing something about it. Clearly Charlotte and Lamar were the de facto leaders of the whole neighborhood and extended family. Charlotte’s mother was the matriarch of the group, and was given the seat of honor at the dining room table. But Lamar was the one who kept the group settled while Charlotte supervised a group of women in the kitchen.
After an hour of eating and talking, Lamar called for everyone’s attention. Younger teenagers quickly gathered the smallest children and ushered them outside to play. Clearly this wasn’t the first time a family meeting was held at the Jenkins' household. Everyone seemed to know the drill and their responsibilities. Charlotte and her group came out from the kitchen, drying off their hands on aprons and towels. Lamar wouldn’t start the meeting without his wife and she would come out when she was good and ready.
“Listen up, everyone, please,” Lamar said loudly and clearly. “I hope you all enjoyed the food. A goodly part of it is the gift of my guest here tonight. This gentleman here has been my boss for the last seven years. He’s a good man, whose first thought today was to give me all the food he had in the restaurant to bring here to you. His first thought in a crisis was to help us in a rough time for everybody.”
Applause and nods of thanks were directed to Rusty, who blushed and held up his hands to redirect the praise.
Lamar continued, “But more important than today’s food, this here fella also introduced me to some very well-informed individuals over the years. Folk who made me see that a man’s nothing who can’t get food for his family. They were farmers who came to the Federal District to make a difference in our government. When they figured out they couldn’t do much to change things, they went on home to take care of their own families. That much we can all respect.”
More nods from the group at that statement. Family ties meant everything in the Jenkins’ neighborhood.
“So, Rusty here would like to say just a few words about what he’s learned from people in the know. Tell you about what bad things might happen any minute. I’ve asked him to tell you what he knows. And what is heading our way, sooner rather than later.”
All attention now turned to Rusty as he stood in front of the crowd. He was no public speaker, but had confidence about what was happening to the District and the country.
For thirty minutes, he told story after story relayed to him over the years by experts who'd come through his bar and books he'd read here and there. He talked about the “nine meals from chaos” theory and about how emergency and health professionals would quit showing up to work so they could help their own families instead. Rusty didn’t know if what he was saying was sinking in, but there was total attention to him while he spoke.
After he concluded, Lamar stood back up and asked for any questions from the group. Not a single word was uttered from the group until Charlotte’s mother broke the silence. “Sir,” she said to Rusty, “what do you propose we do about all this?”
Rusty, Charlotte and Lamar made eye contact in turn. They nodded to Rusty and he outlined Charlotte’s plan for the moving the group to the Junior High as soon as possible.
The trio stood amazed when the next question was simply, “What do you think we should bring along?”