The Dawning Of the Son
Written By: Tosha Gravitt
Dedicated to my Grandfather Crawford, I love you.
The events herein are fictional, all names, places, and events are purely the imagination of an otherwise idol mind. Any similarity to real life persons is coincidental. Enjoy!
(The works in question are still in the progression stage, all grammatical and tactical errors will be worked out later, and this is only a preview. I wanted you to see it before you left)
Preface:
What I say to you this day is not to be taken as a pathway or a means to create your own horror, only to prove that such things exists and should never be taken lightly.
1969 was a time of ignorance and evil men working with almost no opposition. Those that did not follow the same views of these men were often subjected to the minds and hands of their predecessors to be tortured and bound until there was no more use for them, and then they would be discarded. This is the tale of the man who escaped and changed the world.

A Man: An Inspiration
A young man sat at his desk in his little cottage. The fireplace roared and time seemed to be on his side as he looked over his plans for his upcoming inauguration. He read and re read his acceptance speech and smiled at his own play of words and wit. He felt proud. The desk he sat at was his fathers and made by his grandfather, but he had made it so that his family would never have to work with their hands again. He had made it so that his family would never even need to breathe the soot of a fireplace or feel the weight of a backhoe. As he sat so proud and accomplished looking at the desk his father had given him envisioning it in his new office that he would be seeing for the first time that next morning. He remembered his father’s last words to him, “It only takes one person to change the world”. The words rolled over his tongue like clear spring water. He wanted to change the world, he did not yet know how he would do so or which parts to change, but he had optimism and was sure that he would make it better.
Soon a tapping started at his door. He glanced at his watch and winced, his wife was not a woman you wanted to disappoint. He stood smoothly and glided to the door. There she stood, the envision of beauty, but behind her bright blue eyes and blonde curls a twinkle shown. He knew this look well, and over the years he had tried to perfect the art of avoiding it, however; it seemed tonight he had not succeeded. A faint smile crept across his face, just as much an apology as a question of punishment. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the tiny office, sat him down in front of the fire and later returned with a plate of candied ham. He sat silent; waiting for the words that he knew would soon fall out of her mouth.
“If you had been on time it would have still been hot”.
Her face lightened as she sat beside him, “but I still saved you some, even though that son of yours deems to outgrow you before he even reaches ten years”.
This was his opportunity to take a bite. If he hadn’t known better he would tell her that her food was the best he had ever tasted, but he did know better. He knew she would tell him his flattery fell on deaf ears and ask him what his mother would say, so instead he smiled and thanked her.
“Tomorrow,” he told her, “tomorrow I will no longer be that man who tried; I will be the man who did!”
She hugged him and made threats of much colder food next time he decided to be occupied with thoughts rather than actions. This was why he loved her. Through it all she knew how to get him fired up, and she knew how to take care of him. He appreciated and loved her more than she would ever know.
Night fell on the tiny cottage as he gathered his last joyful thoughts and prepared for bed. His dreams seemed as enthusiastic as his conscious thoughts. He bounded up the lighted stairway to his new office, he was greeted happily by all he met and when he sat in his chair it seemed to hug him. It seemed as though only moments had passed when dawn crept into the room and he found himself lying alone in his oak trimmed bed. The aroma of biscuits and fresh sausage gravy met his nose with a delightful tingle. His son, Daniel Regal Hawthorne VI; the name descended right down from the very man who had made his beloved desk, was already enjoying the fruits of his mothers early morning labors.
“I went and got the eggs dad,” he said with a look of satisfaction as his father entered the room.
He was a mere five years old and had every feature of his handsome father, Daniel Sr. who was walking nonchalantly to the table. He had his first meal as the governor of Independence, eggs from his own chickens, sausage from the market, and homemade buttermilk biscuits from his wife’s secret family recipe. A charming smile crept across his face as he strode over to his wife, placed his arms around her, kissed her on the cheek and thanked her for the effort she had taken that morning.
“I feel like a king” he exclaimed, although; this morning, time was not on his side.
He ate his food hurriedly and hugged his wife goodbye; she made promises of homemade cherry pie and celebrations waiting for him when he got home. He rushed out to the stables where his horse was ready; he had but a few miles to go into town to the grounds. His wife and son were to be picked up by her father in his carriage. Daniel always felt as though he didn’t deserve his wife. She came from a much wealthier family; she had the most stunning beauty he had ever found, and the most kind and devout heart. He father voiced his opinions on feeling the same way many times before their union. Today he had hoped he could bring some respect out of the old mans heart.
On the ride to town he felt a pit in his stomach yet it was not his speech that ran through his head, nor was it the family that had traveled days to stay at the inn to be there for his inauguration, but it was nervousness because he was unaware of the problems he would face and how good of a governor he would prove to be. He was afraid that he might not be as stern and just a leader as he had been promising to be. Not that he anticipated changing but that he longed for some sort of guarantee that he would not be another Dean McAllister, the man he was soon going to replace. The office that he once occupied would be host to him and his father’s desk. The secretary that served him coffee would now be at his call. He made up his mind right then and there that he would not let it go to his head. He needed to be the same man, needed to keep his resolution and do right by the people that had elected him. Even his wife had voiced her warnings during the campaign of how, no matter what happened, he needed to stay the same honest and hard working man he was that day. He promised her, that day, that he would never take her or his family for granted and that he aimed to put the city before him in every decision he made.
His conviction came over him just in time, because just as soon as he had thought the words a young woman came out to greet him. She had the most brilliant green eyes, long brunette locks, and a smile that tempted even the most loyal man. She was but a farm hand; she curtsied, and then led his horse to the stables away from him and the crowd that awaited him. He didn’t even look twice in her direction. Many men stood waving and smiling courteously at him. He knew three of the five men, two served him during his run for governor, and the other was an old friend.
“My eyes do not play tricks on me this time boys; here he is, in the flesh”, his old friend beckoned him to join in.
The man whom Daniel had known since childhood stood stout and eager faced at his arrival. The smile on his face was quite genuine, and the laughter in his eyes was the same as when he introduced him to a lovely, breathtaking, young lady, the same lady who was now his wife. Jason walked forward and wrapped Daniel in a tight and fierce embrace.
“Cutting it a little close aren’t we Daniel?” Jason said as he released his grip on his friend, tapping the face of his timepiece and grinning just as wide as he had been when he first saw Daniel coming down off of his horse.
No reply was necessary; they had known each other long enough to realize Daniel, though he was never late, did seem to always cut it down to the last possible second. Jason, on the other hand, usually made it a point to be early and mingle with the crowd long before any proceedings actually took place. Many times Daniel thought it peculiar that he was the one making the speech and accepting the role of governor when it was his friend that seemed to hold the attention and be outspoken and so well liked. These thoughts were generally drowned out by the end of the night when he would witness Jason do a stunning remission of Bright Eyes while staggering and attempting to steady an already steady post outside the local parlor.
The conversation soon turned to congratulations and overall excitement at Daniel’s recent win. Finally time acted as a remittance and called Daniel away to meet with the state judge and the senator. They went over the proceedings and told him he would be introduced, announced the winner once more and then would have time to speak, after which he would take his vow and be shown his new office.
Daniel was a confident man, though his thoughts often proposed contrary. His speech was brilliant. He made out friends and family in the crowd and pins with his face shown on their chests. He thanked many and promised only what he knew he could carry out. He was as calm as if he had been sitting at his creek talking to the squirrels, yet he also had an air of conviction and finality in his voice. At the end the sound of men’s cheers and women’s clapping drowned out the parade like music that was being played in his honor. He glanced over to his father in law, searching for some sort of nod or look of approval but none shown on the old mans feeble face. He looked longingly at his wife holding the hand of his son, he wanted to be by her side but he knew he had many more formalities to overcome before he would be reunited with her.
