OneMansCourage

Ed and I sat in front of my computer for what seemed like hours,
trying to find a listing for Donald W. Schuman, but our efforts proved
fruitless, until we checked the state of South Dakota, thinking
perhaps his dad was living back in his hometown.

My hands were shaking as I typed in South Dakota and Schuman. We were
shocked to see how many listings showed up with that last name and in
such a rural place, too.

I began reading aloud first names from the White Lake area, hoping Ed
would recognize at least one of them. When I got to the letter R, I
noticed there were two listings for the name Richard.

"Kat, Pop has a brother named Richard. I have an Uncle Dick. I know I
have an Uncle Dick," Ed stated loudly.

Ed's palms were sweaty and his leg began to shake. He was like a
champagne bottle that just blew its cork.

"Kat," Ed said seriously. "Will you call"?

"No," I said. "You call. It's your uncle."

"I'm too nervous to call," Ed said.

"Oh! Like I'm not," I stated with a touch of sarcasm.

"Come on, Kat. Please? I don't know what to say."

I took a deep breath and sat back in my chair. "I'll call, but you
have to be on the extension, Ed. After all, this is about you, not
me."

Ed conceded then ran to get the portable phone.

I dialed the first Richard, but there was no answer. I hate to admit
it, but I felt a sense of relief because I had no idea what to say if
someone had answered the phone. I wanted, or perhaps needed, to
approach this situation delicately and rehearse in my mind what to say
before I dialed the second number. I mean, how often does someone
receive a call like the one we were about to make anyway?

I was also stalling because the thought did cross my mind, what if
Ed's dad didn't want to be contacted. I knew that would be devastating
news, but I wasn't about to share that passing thought with my
husband.

"Just dial the number, Kat. Come on. Dial the number. Just wing it,
babe. Please, just dial the number," Ed said eagerly.

Giving in to his excitement, I dialed. It rang, and a soft-spoken
older gentleman answered. "Hello?"

I hesitated for just a second.

"Um--Hi. You don't know me, but I was wondering if you could help me
find someone. I'm looking for Donald W. Schuman, and I know he was
from your area of South Dakota."

Immediately, this older gentleman replied, "Well, before I give you
any information, young lady, you need to tell me who you are and why
you want this information."

I looked at Ed wide-eyed, and I know he could read my mind. Just wing
it! Grrrrrrrr . . .

My palms were sweating and my heart was pounding out of my chest while
at the same time, Ed paced the floor. Nervously, I began telling this
man the purpose of our call.

"My name is Kathy, and I'm the wife of Ed Schuman who, by the by, is
on the phone extension and is Donald Schuman's son. Ed just learned
that his father is not dead like his mother told him and his siblings
almost forty years ago. If you could help us or perhaps know someone
in your area who could help us locate Donald, we'd be forever
grateful."

Ed and I stared at each other as a moment of deep, scary silence came
over the phone line. Then, almost in a whisper, we heard this man say,
"Oh, my God! My brother has been searching for his boys his whole
life." Ed's uncle then shouted for his wife Gert to pick up a phone
extension.

I couldn't even begin to imagine how Ed felt at that instant, but it
had to be the most incredible, take-your-breath-away moment he had
experienced in a long time. I know it was for me.

During our thirty-minute phone conversation, we learned Ed's dad had
been living in Hoboken, New Jersey since the 1960's. Richard and Gert
had twelve children total, and Donald's other brother Jack and his
wife Dorothy had nine children, as well as all their grown
grandchildren made for many Schuman's in the white pages. Of course,
that answered one of my geographical curiosities. "What exactly do
people do in those cold states anyway?"

Richard gave us Donald's unlisted phone number, which explained why we
couldn't find a phone listing for Pop. Before long, we ended our
conversation with Richard and Gert with the hope of meeting one day
soon.

I was beyond excited for Ed, and I knew there wasn't a word strong
enough to describe the exhilaration bottled up inside him. I felt
strongly that this had to be Ed's own moment with his dad. Ed needed
to make the call to Pop, which meant I wouldn't be on the phone
extension. I even thought briefly, and I mean briefly, about leaving
the room altogether to give him privacy, and then thought, being on
the extension was one thing, but leaving the room, with this much
excitement? Nada chance of that happening!

We sat in my office for what seemed like an eternity before I finally
asked, "Well, are you going to call?"

Ed replied casually, "In a minute."

"What are you waiting for?"

"I'm trying to collect my thoughts."

"Oh! You did not just tell me that! Collect your thoughts? What
happened to just wing it, babe? I hear that works."

Ed gave me the again with the sarcasm look.

I shrugged. "I'm just saying."

With a tremendous amount of hesitation and hands shaking, Ed dialed
his dad's number. A woman with a heavy Spanish accent answered. Ed
asked to speak with Donald, but learned his dad was at the doctor.
Taking the gamble, Ed told the woman his name and that he was Donald's
oldest son from Florida. She took our number and said she'd be sure to
give Donald the message.

Now before taking this story to the next level, it's important for you
to understand Ed and phones. As far as he's concerned, they don't
exist. I could be elbow deep in dishwater with the phone ringing, and
he would look at me as if to say, you getting that? Therefore, when
our phone rang thirty minutes later and Ed answered it at half a ring,
all I could do was laugh. Truth be known, I don't believe I had ever
seen him move that quickly, especially to answer a ringing phone.

Ed was speaking with his father for the first time in almost forty
years and, that day alone, they spoke at least a half dozen times. Ed
learned the woman who answered the phone was Zoraida, his stepmother,
and that he had a half brother named Bobby, two half sisters, Martha
and Jenny, four nieces, and two nephews.

With all of these exciting developments, it was temporarily easy to
forget about Muriel's deceptions; however, once the enthusiasm
subsided, Ed wanted to confront his mother about her forty years of
lies and deceit.

It wasn't difficult to understand why Ed felt compelled to face his
mother, but what I couldn't understand was why I had to be there, too.
I reluctantly agreed to go "for moral support," as he put it.

The night before we were to leave, Ed called his mother and told her
that we were coming to visit, but didn't offer more than that.

The following morning, Ed and I headed south to Port St. Lucie which,
understandably so, proved to be an anxious three-hour drive. Once
there, we went inside and, before Ed said anything to his mother about
the real reason for his visit, we had a cold drink. Ed sat beside his
mother, while I was quite content offering my 'moral support' from the
chair closest to the front door.

Ed said bluntly, "Listen, mom. Almost forty years ago, you told my
brothers and me that our dad had died. I just found out he isn't dead.
Pop is alive and living in Hoboken, New Jersey. Why the hell you would
tell us such a hateful lie like that."

"How'd you find out?" Muriel responded.

Ed proceeded to tell Muriel how innocently this all came to be, while
I frankly, was trying to process Muriel's response. How'd you find
out? Are you kidding me?

Then, without so much as a second thought about the real issue of her
deceit, Muriel turned toward me, and with hate in her voice said, "You
should have minded your own damn business."

Muriel's response caught me completely off guard.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked Muriel.

My eyes met Ed's. "No, really. Is your mother serious? She's blaming
me?"

"Mom! Keep Kat out of this," Ed demanded. "You lied, and I lost almost
forty years with my dad."

"Well, if your wife over there would have kept her mouth shut . . ."

Ed interrupted his mother. "You just don't get it, do you, mom? You
would have taken this lie to your grave. What you did is
unforgivable."

I interjected with some moral support. "Muriel, as long as I've known
Ed, he's always spoken fondly of his dad and he's shared some awesome
memories with me."

Muriel chuckled. "What memories? You have no memories of your father."

"I have plenty of good memories of Pop."

"I don't believe that for one minute," Muriel stated sharply. "What
good memories could you possibly have?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing from this woman.

"I can remember countless times Pop took me deep-sea fishing on a
charter boat off Miami Beach," Ed said smiling, lost in his thought.
"We usually didn't catch a thing, but I had a blast. Just me and Pop."

Muriel rolled her eyes in disgust.

Throwing additional moral support in Ed's direction I asked, "What
about the times your dad arm wrestled?"

Ed gave a big smile. "Yeah. I loved going with my dad to Miami to
watch him arm wrestle. He was good at it, and he usually won, too."

Muriel's lips oozed with anger and resentment. "Your father was a
loser. Leaving me with all you damn kids. He's the reason we were
poor. He never paid child support. What the hell do you want with him
anyway?"

"I heard this crap all my life," Ed told his mother sternly. "You
reminded us daily how much you hated my dad. I mean, you tried to give
us to complete strangers, and when that didn't work to your advantage,
you told us Pop died. Can you really hate someone that much?"

Muriel said nothing.

Ed continued, "We lost forty years with our dad because you're selfish
and vindictive. Whether you like it or not, Pop is going to be a part
of my life."

"Well, I don't have to like it," Muriel stated unsympathetically.

"Mom. Seriously, it doesn't matter whether you like it or not, nor do
I care," Ed said with confidence.

Ed stood and kissed his mother on the forehead. He then looked at me
and asked, "Are you ready to go, Kat?"

I stood, hugged Muriel, and told her goodbye.

While driving home, I wondered if Muriel realized or even cared how
much pain she had caused her children and their father by telling such
a hateful lie and, need I say, from that moment on, Muriel's mean
spirit became all too commonplace in my life, too.