"Right. Arthur Chesbro, of Summit. I own a piece of the Hebertown
newspaper, I have some real estate, I'm interested in broadcasting.
Thirty-nine years old."
"Veteran?"
"Ah, I was a consultant to the War Manpower Commission; I wasn't
actually in the service."
"Who's the man who died?"
"Sam Zehedi, Z-E-H-E-D-I, I think it goes. A grocer, about thirty.
We were holed up in a filling station on State Highway 7, just two
carloads of people who couldn't get through the flood. The sick man
is, I'm sorry to say, my very dear friend Henry Starkman, the Burgess
of Hebertown. In the morning when we realized he had pneumonia we
carried him about twelve miles into town. He's in that improvised
hospital they have there. When I saw him last his condition was poor.
He is about sixty-five. He was in my car when we got stopped; we were
looking at conditions and making plans. On a small scale, what Mr.
Akslund is here for." Cue to Sharon!
Sharon said to the congressman, "The networks are probably trying to
get mobile broadcasting units in right now. They should be set up and
sending by midnight. By morning they'll have all they need to lead the
disaster strong in the breakfast newscasts."
It was a reminder that they had better get down to brass tacks on a
concrete proposal for relief and reconstruction. Dramatically issued
from the site of the flood, it would be unbeatable.
They were rolling slowly into Hebertown proper.