Flight to Freedom (Flight Trilogy, Book 3) (24 page)

Originally named “Atlanta Cemetery”, Oakland was founded on six acres of land southeast of the city in 1850. It was the oldest historical plot of land in Atlanta, as William T. Sherman’s Union Army burned most of the rest of the city to the ground in 1864 during the Civil War. At the time of the war, Atlanta was a major transportation and medical center for the Southern states, and since several of the largest military hospitals in the area were within a half mile from Oakland, many soldiers who died from their wounds were buried there. In addition, after the war ended, a few thousand fallen soldiers from the Atlanta Campaign, who were previously buried in battleground graves, were moved to the Confederate grounds in Oakland.

During Keri’s growing up years, Oakland had been like a museum to her, filled with real-world artifacts from the fictional story she loved so much—
Gone
with
the
Wind
. On her visits to the cemetery, she often recalled episodes in the novel, imagining what it might have been like during that time.

As Ryan navigated the narrow streets inside the cemetery—designed before the automobile—he remembered his many visits to the cemetery with Keri on Saturday and Sunday afternoons while they were in high school; a place they often went just to hang out or have a picnic.

Unlike present-day cemeteries, Victorian cemeteries were referred to as gardens. They were often the only green, manicured location within the city. Families routinely visited relatives on weekends, tended gardens on the family plot, and enjoyed picnics during their visits. Cemeteries of that day were social hubs and a gathering spot for the living, as well as burial places for those who had passed on.

“This is the actual ground where it all happened,” Keri once said. “We are walking where families grieved the loss of their fathers, sons, brothers, and husbands who fought for a cause they believed in.” However, when referring to the war, Keri agreed with Scarlett O’Hara in saying, “It all seemed like a senseless waste.”

The Civil War period fascinated Keri, but Ryan was not sure which came first, her love for history or her love for
Gone
with
the
Wind
. As they walked the grounds, she spoke often of Mitchell’s story characters. “If they had been real,” she said, “they would have all probably been buried here…like Scarlett’s mother and father, Ashley Wilkes’ wife, Melanie, Scarlett’s two husbands, Charles and Frank, and even little Bonnie, Scarlett and Rhett’s daughter—the one who died jumping over the fence on her pony.”

Growing up in Atlanta created a special bond with the actual events surrounding the war, not only for Keri, but for most native Atlantans. This connection was greatly solidified beginning in 1936 with Margaret Mitchell’s novel—first titled
Tomorrow
is
Another
Day
. The publishers changed the title before publication to
Gone
with
the
Wind
.

Keri found it fitting Margaret Mitchell was buried at Oakland, alongside the almost 7,000 Confederate soldiers that inspired her story—somehow connecting Mitchell to the world that had defined the majority of her short life. And now Keri was buried there too—within a stone’s throw of her beloved Margaret.

Once Ronald Hart had become aware of Keri’s great love for
Gone
with
the
Wind
and Margaret Mitchell, he contacted the sexton at Oakland Cemetery to locate all of the available plots near the MARSH/MITCHELL gravesite. He negotiated with the owners of plots adjacent to MARSH/MITCHELL and purchased a dozen plots for his family and the family of whoever Keri would marry. Looking back, Ronald Hart knew Keri and Ryan would one day marry, and the fact that Keri would assume the name Mitchell was an added bonus to his masterful plan.

After viewing Ronald Hart’s video message in Philip Darby’s boardroom back in 1987, Mr. Darby shared with Keri that her father had made certain she, Ryan, and any children they might have would be buried adjacent to Margaret Mitchell. The MITCHELL/HART headstone had already been installed and Ryan’s father would be relocated there once Ryan gave the approval—which he did immediately. Martha Mitchell was later buried alongside Ryan’s dad, and now Keri, David, and Martha.

Ryan stopped the car on the narrow road beside the brick pathway leading to the Mitchell gravesite. His car blocked the road, but he only intended to stay for a few minutes.

Ryan stepped out of the car. The air felt heavy with pent-up rain, and the temperature was noticeably cooler than when he left the airport—at least ten degrees. Lightening flashed in the distance. He instinctively started counting.

One
…
two
…
three
…
four
…
five
…
six
…
seven
…
eight
.

Thunder boomed.

Knowing sound travels through air at about 1100 to 1200 feet per second, or one mile per five seconds, he calculated the thunderstorm’s distance to be less than two miles away.

From the cemetery’s elevated position overlooking the skyline of Atlanta, he could see a shadow of darkness had consumed the city.

He hurried up the brick pathway, worn smooth by millions of visitors over hundreds of years. After cresting a small knoll, he noticed a woman standing near the MARSH/MITCHELL gravesite located adjacent to Keri and his family. She wore khaki pants, a white, cotton top, and a wide-brimmed, straw hat with a black ribbon.

CHAPTER 35

Oakland
Cemetery

Atlanta
,
Georgia

Friday
afternoon
—
June
13
,
2003

The woman with the wide-brim, straw hat turned and said, “Oh, hello.” She stood less than five feet tall and had a noticeably strong, Southern accent. Although the sun was hidden behind darkened skies, she wore sunglasses covering most of her face.

Noticing the woman hovered around the MARSH/MITCHELL plot, he said, “Are you a
Gone
with
the
Wind
fan?”

“I guess you could say I am. How about yourself?”

“I’ve only seen the movie…never read the book.”

She circled the MARSH/MITCHELL plot and stood on the brick path next to him.

“My name is Ryan…”

She cut him off. “Mitchell, I’ll bet.”

“How did you know?”

“I just assumed, based on the names on these markers. Is this your family—Keri, David, and Martha?”

“Yes.”

“How interesting…you are also a Mitchell…and coincidentally located next to Margaret’s family. I’ll bet that has confused more than one fan.”

It’s
not
actually
a
coincidence
…
but
I’m
not
going
to
explain
the
details
to
this
stranger
.

“I’m sure it has,” he said.

“Did you know that Margaret’s sister-in-law was also named Carrie? Spelled with a C instead of a K.”

“Yes, my wife made sure I was aware of that fact, years ago. She was a big fan.”

Observing the markers of Ryan’s family, she said, “Whatever happened to them? It must have been tragic…all so young and dying at the same time. Was it a car accident? Or perhaps a plane crash?”

Lightning flashed.

One
…
two
…
three
…
four
…
five
…
six
.

Thunder crashed much louder than before.

The woman said, “Getting closer.”

“Yeah...looks like a bad one.” The branches of towering oaks and mammoth magnolias stirred the air like mixers, their leaves flashing dark then light with each gust of wind.

Am
I
dreaming
?
It
feels
like
a
dream
.

Ryan answered the woman, “Neither.”

“Something much worse?” she said. “Something I assume you had rather not talk about. Am I right?”

“They were murdered.”

“Oh my…how dreadful!” She removed her sunglasses and turned to Ryan. Her face had delicate features; her skin was like porcelain. When their eyes met, a calming peace reached deep into his soul. For a moment, he lost interest in the world around him—even his dead family. All he wanted to do was continue staring into the woman’s translucent blue eyes. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” She hesitated briefly, holding her gaze for at least five to ten seconds before covering her eyes with her large sunglasses.

“Thank you,” he said, not knowing if he was thanking her for her kind sentiment or for the peaceful relief he experienced while looking into her eyes—or both.

“The world is crawling with people these days who don’t respect anyone or anything. It’s not like that where I come from. When did it all change?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, still partially dazed from the unexplainable sense of peace he had just experienced.

“Sadly, I’m afraid it will get worse before it gets any better. You know…Evil crouches at our doorstep waiting for the opportunity to rob us of what we need most.”

“What might that be?”

“Hope.”

“Hope?”

“In the midst of our darkest hour, we must
know
there is hope—a reason to feel that life is still worth living. Just like the city of Atlanta—once burned to the ground, rose out of the ashes to become a diamond of hope for all to see…although in recent years, it has been overcome by Evil’s grip.”

He stared at the three, granite markers in the grass bearing the names of his family.

How
am
I
supposed
to
have
hope
?
They’re
dead
.

“Hope is the anchor of the soul,” she said, “and without it, we become sick—emotionally, mentally, and sometimes even physically. With hope, a man is capable of bearing incredible burdens while moving forward toward his dreams.”

With Keri gone, he was slowly becoming the epitome of hopelessness. He really didn’t care if he lived or died—actually, death sounded like the better option.

As though she could read his thoughts, she said, “Ryan, don’t lose your hope.”

Lightening lit up the sky.

One
…
two
…
three
.

A blast of thunder made the woman jump.

“Now
that
was close!” she said.

“Yep…less than a mile away.”

The leading edge of darkness had moved over the cemetery as the temperature continued to drop. Angry intermittent gusts of wind fought with the limbs of the oaks and magnolias. But even with the approaching rain and danger of lightning, Ryan could not pull himself away from the woman. Something about her made him want to stay and talk…as if she might have answers to his hopelessness.

“You said not to lose my hope…well, you can’t lose what you don’t have…and to be perfectly honest, I’m a little short on hope these days.”

“It’s perfectly normal for you to feel the way you do, but don’t grieve for Keri or your children—only for yourself. Your family is fine. They are at peace.”

“Even though I know that is true, without Keri, my life is meaningless. Everything I did was for her and the children. I have no idea what I will do now.”

He had already gone too far, but he felt safe sharing his thoughts with the woman—as he would a close friend. Perhaps being surrounded by death had stripped him of his protective facade of privacy and allowed him to share his personal pains with a stranger.

“Ryan, do you mind if I speak freely?”

“Sure.”

“First of all, your life is far from meaningless—even without Keri. God created you for a purpose—something very special that only you can do. Until you discover that purpose, life will be meaningless.”

“And I assume hopeless, too.”

“When you find your purpose, your hope will return. The two go hand-in-hand.”

He stared at the chiseled names in the granite markers. His family was his number one purpose in life, and now they were gone. When they died, they took his hope with them.

“Ryan, how one views hope is best seen in the way they view death? Life is really all about death?”

“Death?”

“How a person views death is the best test of how that person views hope. A person that views death as ‘the end’ typically hopes in temporal things such as a better job, more money, a nicer house, better health, or even a better world, but that is empty hope. On the other hand, a person that views death as ‘a new beginning’ will find joy, peace, and strength as the foundation of their hope. Only with an eternal perspective can you have lasting hope.”

“I think I understand what you are saying, and I agree we need to think with a bigger perspective, but without Keri, my world is empty—hope or no hope. Now that she is gone, life feels dead to me.”

“Ryan, God knew when, where, and how Keri was going to die before she was even born, and He also knew you would be left alone. God is waiting for you.”

“Waiting for what? For me to die?”

“No…He is waiting for you to discover your purpose and get busy. You are special to God, and as I said before, He created you for a very specific purpose—as He did everyone on this earth. You can drift through life with one foot in the past and be swallowed up in pity, or you can press on and fulfill your God-given purpose and restore your hope—it’s your choice.”

Ryan stood silent as he stared at Keri’s marker.

She said, “When it comes to your past, wouldn’t you say that God has shown you a little bit of mercy?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“You act like you know my past,” he said.

“I don’t need to know your past to know that without God’s mercy your life would not be what it is today. Because of mercy, the errors of your past have been erased, as though they never happened.”

Her words pulled memories of his past to the surface. There was no doubt that until his family was murdered, God had shown him a lot of mercy. But after that, any compassion God had shown him meant very little.