The Sharecropper Prodigy (33 page)

             
When I finally got to the hospital, Dr. Anderson was already there, along with several high ranking military officers and men in suits that looked important. Dr. Anderson pulled me aside.

             
“What do you think Ben meant when he said
autopsy?
” he asked me.

             
“I have no idea, sir. I thought you might know.”

             
“Do you think he meant he wanted an autopsy performed on himself?” Dr. Anderson asked, trying to keep his volume down to a whisper.

             
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “But I know that’s what he said, because I asked him twice and he shook his head, yes, both times. Then…then…it was over.” Tears were spilling down my cheeks and I was wiping them as fast as I could with my shirt sleeve.

             
“I believe that given the circumstances, they may do an autopsy on Ben and Feldman, anyway. The other man, too. Did you know him?”

             
“I didn’t even know Feldman before they nabbed us,” I said. “But I heard them call the guy that Ben shot and killed Carl. The one who was wounded, they called Harold. I’ve seen him before. He’s a foreman on one of the electrical crews.”

             
“Well, we’ve got ourselves one hell of a mess,” Dr. Anderson said. “If it hadn’t been for you and Ben, things could have really gotten out of hand. I just hope Feldman hadn’t already done this before. Pictures of our schematics and blueprints in the wrong hands would be very unfortunate.” Dr. Anderson paused for a minute, his countenance changing to one of solemnity. “Mr. Martin, I know how close you and Ben were. He spoke of you and your wife to me several times. I just want you to know how sorry I am for both of you. I had grown very fond of Ben myself. Minds like his only come along once in a great while. But his mind wasn’t his greatest attribute. His greatest quality was his heart. He was one of the most genuinely and sincerely, good young men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

             
“Thank you, sir,” I said. “And I agree completely. Ben had a heart as big as all outdoors. He saw the good in everybody and never spoke ill of anyone. Trusting people too much may have been his biggest fault.”

*****

              Even though I couldn’t stand the thought of Ben’s body being desecrated by an autopsy, there was nothing I could do. I ask Dr. Anderson to contact me if anything out of the ordinary was found. There had to be a reason for Ben to have made that his last word on earth. Ben never did or said much without a definite purpose. The next day when the autopsy was performed, we found out why. When Ben’s stomach was opened, a small black capsule was recovered. The capsule was small enough to swallow, but not without effort. I had always kept a gallon jug of water in my truck in case it ran hot. Apparently Ben had to have used it to wash the film capsule down hurriedly when he saw the men. Ben had swallowed the roll of film and was willing to die rather than give it up to the treasonous Feldman and his cohorts. What was more amazing, was him having the presence of mind to use his last breath to make sure I knew. He only had the time and strength for one word and he chose it carefully.

*****

              A few weeks later, after three other spies who were co-conspirators of Feldman and his Nazi financiers were arrested, Rachel and I, along with Ben’s mother, were flown to Washington to meet President Roosevelt. I was to be awarded the Congressional Gold Metal, the highest award any civilian can receive. Evergreen, Ben’s mama, cried like a baby as she accepted Ben’s Congressional Gold Metal, awarded to him posthumously. We even got to have supper with the president and Mrs. Roosevelt. The president looked worn out and I could tell his health was not good. Still, he was a gracious host, as was Vice President and Mrs. Truman.

             
I took a few liberties and told the president what a bright and wonderful young man Ben was and how his patriotism held fast, despite his having to cope with racial inequities his whole life. The president said he would have given anything to have known him and praised Evergreen for raising such a wonderful son. I knew the president was sincere, but without actually having met Ben, he had no idea what an amazing person he had been denied the privilege of getting to know. I made up my mind right then and there that I would dedicate the rest of my life letting the world know about Ben Evans. He was a genius and a hero. The kind of person everyone, except a few ignorant bigots, love and want to be close to. With Rachel and Abby’s help, I was going to be sure the whole world knew about him, no matter how long it took or how much it cost.

*****

              We buried Ben in the Negro cemetery in Collinwood, next to his great-grandmother. His funeral was attended by several congressmen, professors from Morehead College and Harvard University, as well as some of the most distinguished men in the country. Albert Einstein was among them. Dr. Einstein even accepted Rachel’s invitation to the meal Lizzie had prepared for everyone after the funeral was over. Most of the town was there. Even some of the men who had been responsible for the lynching of Ben’s papa showed their cowardly faces. They had heard he had died doing something very heroic, and I guess even they honored heroism and patriotism, even from  someone with black skin.

             
We found out Ben had bought a life insurance policy worth $350,000. He wanted to make sure his family never had to live in another sharecropper shack again or pick another cotton boll, unless they owned the land where the cotton was grown. The money put all of Ben’s brothers and sisters through college. Nellie and Sam became doctors. Evergreen could live out the rest of her life in comfort, in a nice house that belonged to her.

             
We all put our heads together to come up with the perfect marker for Ben’s grave. We spent days going over different scenarios, trying to find just the right epitaph. Finally, Abby came up with the perfect idea. On a beautiful Italian marble stone, it reads:

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN EVANS

THE SHARECROPPER PRODIGY

OCTOBER 29, 1925 - MARCH 18, 1944

A BRILLIANT PHYSICIST WHOSE CONTRIBUTIONS TO HIS COUNTRY AND THE WORLD WILL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN. RECIPIENT OF THE CONGRESSIONAL GOLD MEDAL. BELOVED SON, BROTHER AND FRIEND

*******

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