Jacqueline Druga - Under the Gray Skies

But she did. Underneath her final entry I placed the date of her death, with my own note of thanks and that she would never be forgotten.

She had filled nearly every single page of that notebook. I remembered when I noticed how many pages she filled and how few she had left, I believed that when she finished the pages of the notebook her journey would be done.

Sadly, it was.

It broke my heart, all that she endured for the sake of finding her family, her life and plight ended too soon and so close.

It wasn’t fair. She never found them. They would never get to know all she did to be with them, how she felt.

Or would they?

I closed the notebook and looked at the picture of her family.

She didn’t find them… but I would.

If it took the rest of my life, I would find her family and give them that notebook. I would do so, or like Lacey, die trying.

The temperature in Norfolk was a balmy zero degrees. A lot warmer than it was several hundred miles north. While still cold, it was easier to keep a space warm.

I was issued a tent and bunk, but I didn’t go there. I couldn’t with a clean conscious leave the medical tent without knowing how Del’s surgery went.

His surgery was taking a long time. While sitting there waiting, I decided to start reading the notebook. Strangely, the first page was a different handwriting or maybe it was Lacey’s and she just got progressively worse with her penmanship. I started reading it and I realized not even Lacey was that mushy. It was a letter of sorts, more of a poem, telling some guy name Clark how much he was loved and the list of silly reasons why he was the perfect husband.

My curiosity as to why Lacey would leave it in the notebook was answered on the flip of a page. She got the notebook from a flight attendant named Amber. Actually, Lacey took a lot of things from Amber. She wrote a homage to her, and vowed if she ever ran into Amber’s family, she would let them know how Amber saved her life in a way. Lacey had taken refuge that first night out of the hole in a plane.

Tucked in that page were two photographs. The family looked magazine perfect. The husband was distinctive, good looking. She must have kept that picture in case she ever saw them.

Frequently, Lacey mentioned deceased strangers who in some way aided her. She always labeled it, ‘took part in saving my life’ and followed it with being forever grateful.

Sometimes she had a memento of them.

A few pages into the journal she mentioned a man named James Herron. She had taken his car and tucked in his page was his car registration and an unmailed, addressed greeting card she had removed from the glove compartment.

It was evident, in her mind, she was going to get out of the disaster zone and find the families of these people. She truly believed that a civilized and organized country awaited her emergence.

Lacey had no idea the world had pretty much come to a grinding halt.

Just as I wondered what she thought about our first meeting, I stopped. I was in mourning, I didn’t want to take a chance of interpreting it wrong.

Instead, I set my sights on the backpack.

What had she taken from her home?

Unzipping it exposed that bottle of Duke Bourbon. It was partially wrapped in an Ohio State t-shirt and surprisingly was unbroken. Even though I knew she took that for Davis, I would probably nurse it. After all, he left it behind.

Reaching inside, I pulled out a baggie. In it was a watch, wedding rings and an airline employee tag with the name Amber. All items she mentioned in her notebook that she wanted to return to Amber’s family.

There were a lot of photos in that bag along with odd items. Sippy straw, remote control, bottle opener and a VHS tape of an old Robert Downey Jr. movie. VHS? I didn’t even think anyone had them anymore. Lacey did. It meant something to her. Everything in that bag, one way or another meant something to her.

Everything I had seen and read painted a picture of a woman who placed sentimental value on everything. She cared and appreciated so much.

Little things I didn’t realize.

My expedition of learning Lacey ended shortly after I started, when a doctor brought news of Del. He was out of surgery, recovering, and would in time, heal.

Time being the key word. He was going to be placed on the next yellow ship out, but would go to a different camp. One that dealt with those who had special needs. It would be a while before Del could walk. All those who needed medical aid, went on a yellow ship.

Yellow ship? I had heard of red and green. The doctor informed me there was also blue and purple. All ships going to different places. The countries that suffered least after the event, came to the aid of those who needed it.

Once I knew Del was fine, I sought out some food and then found my cot to get some sleep.

The next day my body was sore, really sore. I felt the effects of the accident. A few ibuprofen put a dent in the pain and after checking on Del, I went to where they issued ship passes.

It was a new day.

Day one of my search for Lacey’s family.

“I’m sorry, you want what?” the woman at the ship pass table looked at me like I was nuts.

“I want to see what ship a friend got on.”

She laughed.

“That’s funny?”

“Actually it is,” she said. “Do you know if he, or she got on a ship?”

“He left a note that he was coming here with his two kids. That was a few days ago. If he made it, he got a pass. If he didn’t get on a ship, he’s still here. Next ones leave in two weeks right? I just need to find out.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“When I was in Kansas they kept a log of who got what passes.”

She nodded. “We do.”

“Can you check the log?”

“No. No I can’t.”

I looked around, only a couple of people walked up to the tables. “It’s not like you’re busy.”

“It’s not like it’s easy. Twenty thousand, one hundred and seventy-two passes were issued from this port alone for the ships that left yesterday and the ones leaving now. Twenty thousand names just written down, no data base, no computer, no alphabetical order. It could take days if not weeks of looking at each name. I’m sorry, I don’t have the time for that, or honestly, the drive to do so.”

“I do,” I said. “Can I look?”

She exhaled. “You really want to do that?”

“Yeah, I do. I have nothing else to do but wait. I might as well look.”

She stood up and waved for me to follow. At the back end of the tent, was a long table, there were boxes on top and beneath.

“You look here in this tent and you don’t take them,” she said.

“I promise.”

“Any of the family disabled?”

Lacey had never mentioned a disability, so unless they were hurt like Del, that answer was no. I shook my head.

“Then bypass yellow. I’d start…” she handed me a box, “With Red. Most popular for some reason. Biggest area. There’s another box of logs underneath. Good luck.”

I set up shop at her table. She didn’t seem very pleased with that, almost annoyed. I didn’t see the problem, she was by herself at the big long table and there was room.

However, by the next day I learned her name was June, and she was actually a very nice woman.

By the third day, whenever she had a free moment, June helped me look.

My days were full. Visiting Del in the morning, going to the ship pass tent, looking through the logs then I’d visit with Del again.

I checked each log entry on each page, then checked again.

It took nearly five days to get through the red logs. Suffice to say I was discouraged. Del was optimistic, telling me I’d find them. I was beginning to doubt that. I still had blue, green, and purple. I had only nine days until I had to get on a ship. If they took as long as the red logs, I’d run out of time.