Chapter 1
It Wasn't Fair
Part One
The Local Church
1946
It was February 20th, the date chosen because it was the day it always was. There was no specific reason
for that particular date, it was just what town founder Arthur C. Halverson chose. Unless, it fell on a Sunday
then it was pushed back to a Monday for it being Lord's Day and all. The twenty men of various stations
made up the local city council.
There were six officers, Mr. Kennedy, the bank manager, Mr. Loudon, the owner of the
grocery store, Dr. Wilson, Mr. R.M. II, the owner of Goodson's Textile Plant (who was the only one allowed
to vote by absentee ballot), Mr. Hyde, Assistant Supervisor at the plant (also liaison for R.M. II),
and Mr. R. Forman, owner of the barbershop.
Father McDonald put the black ballot box in the center of the alter table, the cross being kept in his
chambers during council meetings. Each man was given a pre-made ballot typed by one of the Girl Friday's
at Donaldson's law office and a standard issue #2 pencil. Father McDonald did the blessing, as Harvest Day
was one of Point Place's oldest and finest traditions. The family surnames were listed in alphabetical order.
It wasn't personal, it wasn't out of malice, it was fair, and above board. You checked your box, not being
allowed to check off your own name, Father McDonald put a small number on the back, bottom left hand
corner, in #2 pencil. Mr. R.M. II, always away on "important town business", mailed in his ballot to the
church, Father McDonald would open the envelope when he calculated the votes.
When he went in his chamber to count the ballots, there was to be no talking. Some of the older men
brought their Bibles, some of the younger men brought the newspaper, some did both, others neither. It
only took about five minutes, ten if a double count was needed. Father McDonald returned to the front of
the alter, holding his tally card.
"Please rise, Gentlemen."
There were no visible emotions on the faces of the men. This was how their grandfather's did it, this is how
their father's did it, and for the first generation of young men here it was no different, this is how they were
raised in Point Place.
"For Harvest Day 1946, Mrs. Eric Forman was chosen. You may all leave now except for Mr. E. Forman. God
be with you all."
The person had the option of knowing the score or not. Some of the older men thought it went against the
grain, Eric did want to know, so McDonald told him, it was
19 Yea.
1 Nay.
Father McDonald led Eric to the telephone that was in the back room where they kept the signs for bingo
days in the spring and the toy drive in the winter.
The Women folk were not allowed to leave their homes on February 20th, if any men folk were chosen
they'd be at the church and escorted back to work to finish their day. If your phone rang at 1:00 p.m., on
that date, it was a common shared knowledge that you were female and chosen.
Donna was ironing when wall mounted black rotary phone rang. It could have been Jackie, needing to
borrow a cup of flour, because she couldn't go to the grocer's today, it could've been little Mary Jane
Hanson who lost her pretty yellow hair ribbon when she bicycled by yesterday, it could've been just about
anybody. She stopped her ironing and went to answer the phone.
"Hello?" She felt her heart rate exceed its normal pace.
"It's Me, Eric. You've been chosen for Harvest Day. I have to go back to work. I'll be home for dinner.
Goodbye."
The love gone from his voice, Donna wasn't surprised, it had been that way for quite awhile.
Forman #2 Residence
That was that. She stood up to wash her hands in the sink. She saw Jackie from the kitchen window smiling
at the flowers in her window box. Donna needed to finish ironing Eric's Sunday best shirts if the pot roast
was going to be ready on time for his supper.
4:43 p.m.
Donna sat at the kitchen table, her hands pressing into the blue gingham of her apron. Her household
chores were done for the moment as she waited for the oven timer to go off. She had time to sit and be
alone with her thoughts.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair!
She thought over and over as if she only had one notion in her brain. She saw the sunset from the small
kitchen window that was above the sink. The men folk would be coming home from work; ten minutes after
the factory whistle blew they'd be in their kitchens having their wonderful and hot home-cooked meals. It
was understood as she set the table with the plain white china, she saw her friend Jackie, her hair 'done
just right' after her trip to the beauty salon yesterday through the kitchen window and she was doing the
same thing, setting her table with the Hyde's 14-K golden rimmed white china. They were better off
financially with her husband, Steven, being assistant supervisor of the textile plant.
Eric's newspaper was put on the end table by his easy chair. It was his job to repair the ballot box, but all
he did was pass it on to Steven Hyde, Jackie's husband (because they were friends who got away with
crossing financial and class lines), who passed it on to Michael Kelso, the well-known town bachelor, who
passed it on to Fez who fixed the box because he knew he would be deported to whatever town he came
from if he didn't know "his place" as the only non-Caucasian in town. Eric tipped him .10 cents and gave him
a coupon for a free haircut at his father's Red's barbershop knowing full well, he wasn't allowed inside any
of the town's businesses.
Mother-In-Law Kitty sent Donna over an extra jar of her homemade blueberry preserves when she knew
she could leave the house. Yes, the tradition was old, there was talk about stopping it all together, but it
was an institution after all. It was done to help the local farmer's in all of the neighboring towns have
successful crops for the season.
Kenosha stopped following harvest traditions and look what happened the rains came, they
were punished with floods instead, their plants closed, and 50 townspeople unnecessarily died. Nothing
happened that year in Point Place. Everyone in church said this was a sign of the way they were doing
things was "right" and "God's way" so they took the burden upon themselves that they were helping their
neighbors out-of-the-city-limits as well.
The phone rang again as Donna took the pot roast out of the oven. The factory whistle was about to blow,
so the roast needed to be cool before Eric could cut it with the electric carving knife.
"Hello, Donna. I saw you through the window a few times today."
"Hi, Jackie. It isn't fair,"
"I'm calling to ask you if you'd to go to Halverson's with me tomorrow? Steven gave me my weekly
allowance. You're going to need a new dress for Harvest Day."
"This is because I cannot have children."
"That's simple nonsense, that's not true, need I remind you about your own mother. She should have left
Mr. Pinciotti when she had the legal chance. You know divorces aren't allowed during Harvest Season. You
are Eric's property. Now is not the time for you to be a speaking about women's rights jibberish."
Women could vote in federal elections, but were excluded from anything local as
Steven said to his fellow councilmen, it would keep the feds off their backs, "didn't need the big
government stickin' its big nose in local affairs."
The town whistle blew and Donna could feel the slight sense of panic rise in Jackie's throat as she talked. It
could have easily been her and despite her semi-boasting she knew it as well.
The men folk were on their way home from the factory.
"I'll ask Steven if I can have an extra dollar, I'll buy you a pretty bow for your hair. Bye, Donna."
"Bye, Jackie."
The women in town sat in silence at their respective dinner tables, as the men didn't want to be disturbed
after their grueling day of work at the factory, but Eric wanted to have dinner conversation.
There was talk that she might try to run.
She had a reputation.
She took lollipops meant for the town's children.
"It's tradition and very silly of you if you try to run away. It's done all fair and square. The roast beef is
good, I find saltin' it to be unnecessary."
Donna refilled the coffee, Eric's cup first.
"It's not fair. Who will iron your shirts? Make your dinner?" She bit her lip dare she speak out of turn, "Have
sex with you?"
Not that they even had sex anymore.
She didn't forget her mother. Her father left Point Place and there was a rumor that he committed suicide,
but there wasn't a local paper trail to confirm it.
"We make our lots in this life," Eric drank his coffee, his Dad reminded him that they could send for his
spinster sister Laurie, who was helping Aunt Pearl on her dairy farm in Osh Kosh and she could do
everything minus the last point his wife brought up.
"How about a trade?"
"Women folk are not allowed to make changes to the system, and you know as well as I, you have taken
part in every Harvest Day since you were four and allowed to do so."
"But it's not fair." Donna replied in a quiet despair.
She needed to start cleaning up the dinner dishes.
Hyde Residence
"Did Donna tell you?" Steven asked during dinner, it was also roast beef night at his
house.
"I went to water the plants in my window box and I saw her on the phone at 1:00 p.m. It'll be a good
Harvest."
"We will need the rain. After dinner, I'll be in the den…."
"Steven, May I have an extra dollar? I'd like to buy Donna a hair bow for Harvest Day."
"Sure. I'll put it an envelope and leave it on your dresser. You best get started on the dishes if you're
gonna be startin' my bath on time."
"Would you like roast beef sandwiches for tomorrow's lunch?"
"Yes, doll. And put a capful of them Epsom salts in the bath, I think I pulled a muscle in my back today."
"Okay, Sweetie."
Later, around 10 p.m.
Jackie was too curious, so when Steven was sound asleep from a long, hard, and financially rewarding
day's work she quietly got out of bed. If he did wake up, he'd only think she was in their bathroom. Her
nightgown was a cotton/silk blend, it wasn't white, it was cream and it had tiny pink roses on it. It was too
beautiful not to be seen, but she took her robe, also pink, off her vanity chair, slid on her pink slippers and
had to see for herself.
She also had cream colored sleeping cap, she never could let her husband see the actual curlers that she
slept in.
The room was lit from the candles they kept on the fireplace mantle. She walked to the kitchen, there was
no sense pulling down the blinds, even though the window above the sink was closed, she was still afraid
to cough or sneeze. There was Donna pacing back and forth, her nightgown wasn't a mix of cotton/silk and
she wore that same plain white robe from 1935! Eric was doing all of the talking, it looked more like yelling,
and pointing his index finger in his wife's face.
They were their respective husband's property, after all. Jackie didn't let that fact bother her, her and
Steven were different.
She put her own hand over her mouth when she saw Eric slap Donna across the face as
as she walked behind him out of the sight, with her head down, admitting defeat, and
presumably to their bedroom. Jackie slightly jumped when she felt two hands go on her
tiny shoulders. It was her husband, nothing to be afraid of.
"I couldn't sleep. I need a glass of water."
"It's not goin' to be out the window. You were spyin' on Eric and Donna, woman."
He did have a twinkle in his eye. Should she tell him what she saw? Steven never raised
a hand to her, he did believe in spanking their children when they disobeyed. They never
questioned how they were raised. They did what was expected of them. Little Jimmy Hyde, age 5 and Little
Sally Hyde, age 3 would be at Spinster Carla's a month before Harvest Day. This is how Jackie knew she'd
always be safe. Steven would see to it.
"A little bit. Are you mad, Steven?"
"No. Let's go back to bed." They could walk side-by-side in their own house, only courting couples could
walk arm-in-arm publicly, and that was to show the other men who "their women" were, that they were no
longer available.
"Eric slapped Donna across the face." Jackie said as they got back into their warm bed.
"She spoke out of turn," He replied matter-of-factly.
"Goodnight, Jackie, and no more adventures."
"Goodnight, Steven." Jackie looked at her husband, the moon from the windows putting their shadows on
the wall.
She spoke out of turn.
She took a deep breath and sank into the covers, there was no need to worry, they weren't going to wind
up like Donna and Eric, they were better than that, but her husband's succinct words still left her unable fall
asleep.