Series: Snapshots of the Past
Story: Endings and Beginnings
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story belong to NBC, WB, and Aaron Sorkin. We're just borrowing them for some fun :)
Story Summary: The Bartlets deal with changes as they welcome their second daughter into the world; Boston is thrown into the national spotlight, which has significant repercussions for Jed and Abbey; Jed struggles with how the turmoil on his college campus affects him as a professor; Abbey looks forward to graduating from medical school and beginning her internship
AN: We're exploring some events that surrounded Boston in 1974. We're not out to make any political statements about the validity of those events, but to simply explore what the Bartlets may have faced and how that helped to shape who they turned out to be (if they were, you know, real g ). Just FYI.
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Around the country, things were changing. Highway speed limits had been reduced to 55 miles per hour, little girls were now allowed to play little league baseball, and the abduction of Patti Hearst sent shockwaves through communities and towns all over the nation. But another story was about to affect the Bartlet family first-hand. The City of Boston had become a hotbed of debate in 1974 and the only headline that stole attention away from Bean Town was the resignation of President Richard Nixon.
Gerald Ford was soon sworn in and the 1974-1975 school year was quickly approaching. The focus of all Bostonians returned to what was predicted to be a disastrous attempt at evening the playing field among the city's youth - busing.
For six-year-old Elizabeth, the talk of controversy was frightening. She prepared to enter the first grade joyfully, but during the long, hot summer months, confusion set in as protesters lined the streets in anger and defiance.
"But I like my school," she whined while she and Abbey sat on the floor and fumbled with her school supplies.
Liz had been pleading with her parents for weeks, hoping something would change. The night before her first day, the chances of that seemed pretty bleak.
"I know, Angel, but you're going to like going to Roxbury too." She prayed it would be true, but for the time being, they were the only words Abbey could offer to comfort her daughter.
"But why do I have to go there? Some of my friends get to stay here. We want to be at the same school. Why do you I have go some place else?"
"Because our lawmakers are morons." Jed dropped his newspaper to reply.
"Jed."
"They are, Abbey. Look, I'm all for integration, but the way they went about it built up so much resentment that it's become unsafe. They're separating the kids when they should be explaining to them -- and those yahoos protesting out there -- why we should be unified."
It was no secret that he wished he was out there doing the job he believed the local politicians were neglecting.
"I agree with you. But the alternative is segregated schools with major pitfalls in equal funding."
"All I'm saying is that I'm concerned about our daughter leaving at least a half hour earlier every morning to go to a school where she won't even be welcomed."
Liz had picked up on his indignation before, but never chose to dig deeper into the meaning behind his words...until now. "Why don't they want me there?"
"It's not you, Sweetheart. It has nothing to do with you," Abbey assured her. "Finish packing your bag and I'll let you have another slice of cake tonight."
"Okay." It wasn't enough to cheer her up, but there was no way she'd turn down the rare offer of an extra dessert.
As she stuffed her supplies into her backpack, Abbey pulled on Jed's ear, signaling him to follow her into the kitchen.
"You know that ear thing used to be cute, but now it's just plain annoying."
"Would you please watch what you say? She's already apprehensive enough as it is."
He folded his arms in front of him in a gesture to keep an open mind. "You want me to just pretend she has no right to be upset?"
"Of course not," Abbey insisted. "But she should be excited about her first day and she's not. I hate it that she's not. Maybe it's time we talk about private school again."
That particular conversation had replayed itself all summer. The conclusion was always the same.
"You said you want her in public school. Have you changed your mind?"
"I just don't want to send her somewhere that makes her so unhappy."
Jed understood her concern and truth be known, he shared it. "We don't know that she'll be unhappy. We won't know anything until tomorrow. Lets wait and see what she has to say when she gets home."
He could see the reluctance in her eyes when she nodded in response. "Fair enough."
"Abbey, what they're doing out there...it may not have been executed well, but it's a good thing. It's a necessary thing, just like you've been saying for months now. The alternative wouldn't be fair to the kids in Roxbury. It wouldn't be fair to Lizzie either."
"I know."
And she did. It wasn't a perfect world. She came to realize that when she was growing up, but somehow, it was different now that she had to explain it to her own child.
That night was spent convincing Liz the busing controversy wasn't really about the kids as much as it was about the adults who couldn't wrap their minds around desegregation. It was true at first. But now that school was set to start and Lizzie and some of her classmates switched places with minority students from Roxbury, the focus of the protesters shifted from the legislators onto the children.
The next morning, Abbey stood on the curb and waved goodbye as Liz stared out the bus window to wave back. The smile she received was proof that she had succeeded in putting her daughter's mind at ease, despite the small reservations that still lingered through her own. Jed held her hand, squeezing it when he felt the tension increasing through her rigid fingers.
"She'll be okay."
"I just think we should have taken her today."
"Abbey, it'll be fine. She wanted to get on the bus. She said so herself. The kids are going to be well-protected."
"What if you're wrong?" Her eyes never left the spot where Liz had been waving moments before, even after the driver had driven away.
Jed offered no response. He simply rubbed her shoulder in silence until she headed back to the apartment to get ready for work.
In the midst of pregnancy, Abbey had entered her fourth year of medical school. With her second child expected in late September, it was her determination to strive towards graduation that kept her busy. She chose an elective that wouldn't be physically demanding and so for several hours a day, she would learn to read EKGs. The rest of her time would be devoted to independent study until after she gave birth.
Though she wasn't assigned to the emergency room, she would have had to have been deaf and blind to ignore the chaos that ensued after she arrived at the hospital that day. It was already happening. Only an hour into the new school year and adults, teenagers, and even children had already been brought in with cuts and bruises, all attained during various riots outside Boston schools.
She scanned the room, dreading the moment she would spot a familiar face on one of the stretchers. And when she didn't, her hand instinctively curled around her veins, stinging with pain as if she had been the one pricked with the IV needles the nurses were injecting.
This wasn't unexpected. Emergency workers had braced themselves for months, community leaders had anticipated massive rebellion. In response, doctors had been warned that they would be on-call the entire first week of school. Triage emergency care had been underway in preparation for violent outbreaks across the city.
Abbey was part of those hospital briefings. She had been trained to help with minute tasks in dire circumstances. Just like in the drills, her doctorly instincts were supposed to kick in right now. But they didn't. She convinced herself it was because she was still a student, not a physician. It was more than that. Much more.
A simple glimpse through the glass windows that separated her from the evidence of the unruliness taking place outside the building affected her on a personal level. Her mind conjured up images of Elizabeth laying somewhere injured and alone and once those visions took root, her eyesight was blinded to everything else
Fear ran through her, cultivated by all the grisly scenarios she tried to cast aside. As the doctors surrounded the patients, she subconsciously backed away from those who needed medical attention, her mind now consumed with only one thought -- where was her own daughter? A professional would stay and help in whatever way she could. But a mother wouldn't, she reasoned. A mother couldn't, not without confirmation that her daughter wasn't in some other hospital crying out for her parents.
She ran away from the chaos and towards the staff lounge, her pregnant frame wobbling down the corridor. With a sigh of relief and a hand to her forehead to brush away her bangs, she peeled off her lab coat and collapsed onto the couch after calling Liz's school. The adrenaline that had been running through her was gone, giving way to pure exhaustion at the mental anguish that temporarily plagued her.
As soon as she confirmed that Liz was safe and sound, the overwhelming feeling that held her emotions hostage was guilt. She left her post in the cardiology department when the first round of patients came barreling in to the emergency room. Then she froze with terror when her motherly instincts kicked in. And now, she was tormented by the consequences of abandoning a scene swarming with injuries. For the first time, she questioned her priorities.
How could offering help to others ever outweigh the concern she felt for her own child? It couldn't. Not in her mind. She was forced to examine the line between doctor and parent. For her, it wasn't blurred. There was a notable difference and she saw it, she felt it. Today, it wasn't Liz who was hurt, but those few minutes of uncertainty that clouded her medical judgment could have meant the difference between life and death for someone else's child.
Unfortunately, they hadn't covered this in med school.
Meanwhile, Jed struggled through each class at the university, eager to make it back to his office where he monitored the protests on a portable radio. He, too, had called Liz's school to assure himself she was safe. And now, sitting behind his desk, his eyes could only focus on one thing -- the clock on the wall. Every second that ticked by was another second closer to 3:00, when Liz would finally be home.
Mary prepared to meet the school bus, just as she usually did when Jed and Abbey were working. But today, husband and wife joined her. As the bus turned the corner, the heads of cheerful students hung out the windows. Laughter could be heard from inside. When the door opened, Liz skipped down the steps to leap into her mother's arms.
"Mommy, Daddy, Grandma! I love it! I love my new school! I love the first grade!"
Tears obstructed Abbey's vision as she held Liz tightly. "So you had a good time?" she asked with a slight hint of laughter leaking through her happiness.
"Uh huh!"
Jed crouched down to eye level. "Lizzie, what did you get to do today?"
"We got to color and paint and play with letters. And we even have a bunny rabbit and I was the only one in class who could spell it because Daddy taught me, so my teacher let me pet it and everything!"
"Well, it sounds like you had quite a day!" Mary replied.
She took her grandmother's hand. "I can't wait to go back tomorrow!"
Jed stood up and wrapped his arm around Abbey's waist as they followed Liz and Mary back home. "You feel better?"
"I do. I know I overreacted. It's just there were so many kids who were brought in to the hospital today..."
He stopped suddenly, turning towards her to place a finger over her lips. "You don't ever have to excuse your fears. If you're worried about something, there's no explanation needed."
"You were worried too," she shared her suspicions.
"Not really," he lied. "I knew she'd be fine."
It was time to nail him with her skepticism. "That's why you called the school three times today, right?"
"Are you checking up on me, Sweet Knees?"
"The school tells me these things."
"Well, they were wrong."
"Sure they were," she replied sarcastically.
His denial was strong and persistent. "They were. I swear it on our marriage."
"Josiah Bartlet, don't you dare!" She seldom used his real name. When she did, it was to express outrage or anger.
He pulled her in to whisper in her ear. "I called four times."
"So did I," she admitted with the return of a smile. "Are you going to call again tomorrow?"
"Maybe." Now he was being honest. "You?"
"Definitely."
Finally, the tension that had built up since Liz left for school was slowly fading. She made it through her first day and looked forward to her second. That was all that mattered. For now.
TBC
