This story happened in Rockingham back in the mid
1950s.  The main characters are Mr. Fred Patterson, his
wife Laura, and their five children (from the oldest to the
youngest) Michael, Dorothy, Sharon, Norman, and Doris.  
They also had a mixed-breed dog named Buster, who was
mainly an outdoors dog, but loved to come into the house
if anyone hesitated in closing the door as they came
inside.  Fred was in his early fifties, and Laura was about
two years younger.  Both Fred and Laura worked in the
East Rockingham mills, but Fred also had a side business
selling men’s clothing from the back of his station wagon.  
He hoped to open his own clothing store downtown since
he was finding some success from his part-time job.  He
had worked his way up to a low level manager’s position
at the mill, but he had no illusions about his future with
the mill.  At that time, Michael was serving with the US
Army at Fort Bragg.  Dorothy and Sharon were in the
eleventh and tenth grades at Rockingham High School.  
Norman and Doris were both in the seventh grade at
Rockingham Junior High School.  Norman should have
been in the eighth.  They were a good Christian family,
and all of them attended the East Rockingham Church
near where they used to rent a millhouse from Fred’s
employer.  Sharon was a piano player and was currently
taking music lessons.  She hoped to be a pianist at her
church when she was grown.  Fred had been a staff
sergeant in the US Marine Corp during World War II
serving in the Pacific theatre.  Both Dorothy and Sharon
had part time jobs at the dime stores downtown.  One
worked at Rose’s and the other at Wood’s.  Norman had a
Charlotte News afternoon paper route.  

Fred was in the process of determining whether he should
use some of his recent business earnings to help improve
their house, or if he should save this for his future
business.  About three years ago when he was promoted
at work, they were able to buy this house with a huge
mortgage from the Richmond County Bank downtown.  
They lived on Bryan Street over behind the large Stanley
Bakery where they baked and distributed Stanley Bread to
at least a fifteen county area.  Fred used to wonder
whether he could make more money driving a bread truck
as compared to his millwork.  He decided against that, as
all that driving would make him too tired to work his
clothing route.

The Pattersons had enough to eat, but had to be attentive
to their budget.  They typically had meatloaf or chicken
and dumplings with their vegetables for dinner.  It was
extremely rare indeed to have steak or anything that
expensive.  Fred liked sweets, and so did all his family for
that matter.  Fred was particularly partial to walnut cake.  
The walnuts and the walnut extract (as opposed to
imitation vanilla extract) were expensive and available in
the family budget only about once per year.  They always
saved this special treat for the nearest Sunday to
Columbus Day, which just happened to be on Sunday this
year.  There was nothing special about Columbus Day;
they just had to pick a day.  They always had fruitcake for
Christmas and maybe Thanksgiving, angel food cake for
Easter, and ice cream on July 4th.

They had invited their preacher over for Sunday dinner,
plus Michael would be home from Fort Bragg that day.  
Laura baked the walnut cake on Thursday and put it in a
cake holder on top of the refrigerator with a sign clearly
stating: “Do not touch until Sunday dinner.”  When Fred
came home from his mill job at four in the afternoon, he
stopped by his house to load his station wagon with
clothes to sell and to eat a little something.  He usually
would snack at this time and wait until he came back
home about eight before eating his regular supper.  He
didn’t have much time left between supper and bedtime.  
He had to be at the mill again the next morning at eight.  
Fred asked his wife if he could have a piece of that walnut
cake knowing full well that she would say “no.”  And she
did say: “Fred, I’m saving that cake for Rev. and Mrs.
Robinson and Michael on Sunday.  There’ll be plenty of it
for you then.”  So Fred ate something else and then
proceeded on his route.

On Friday morning, everything went as usual.  All six of
them had to use the same bathroom to get ready each
morning.  As all of you know, poor Fred and poor Norman
didn’t stand a chance against those four women.  They all
had to leave about seven thirty either to go to school or to
work.  The family was able to share a warm breakfast
each morning, which was usually grits and sausage or
grits and bacon.  Laura usually was able to provide freshly
made biscuits, but if time really was tight, they had to
settle for toast.  Eggs were added maybe twice per week.  
At breakfast, Fred mentioned that he was going to talk to
several gentlemen about opening a clothing store.  There
just wasn’t enough time that morning for Fred to
elaborate or for the others to ask questions about this.  
All four of the children had to go about two hundred feet
up to Midway Road right across from Spady’s boarding
house to catch school bus number 54.  Back in those days,
the school bus stopped only once in the same general
area.  All the children in a two or three block area had to
congregate in one spot. Also all the school buses had
senior high school students driving them as compared to
the adult drivers we have today.  Ms. Spady had plenty of
reason to complain about all the children running about,
but she was a fine Christian lady herself and decided that
putting up with the noise and bother was the least she
could do to help the children.

At work that Friday, there were some mechanical
problems in the section of the mill where Laura worked.  
She was worried they might dock her pay for the
“downtime,” but they didn’t.  One of the maintenance
men got hurt bad enough to take to the emergency room
at the hospital, but word came back that he was going to
be fine.  Fred had to work a weaving machine himself that
day since he had so many people staying out.  Most of the
mill workers were good people, but a few just seemed not
to care about things, including whether they still had a
job or not.  It was fairly easy to get a job at the mills back
then; they didn’t ask many questions.  For the workers,
the pay was not much more than the minimum wage of
fifty cents per hour.  However, a good long-term,
dependable mill worker could make up to a dollar an
hour.  A low level manager could make up to a dollar and
a half per hour.  The problem with working in the mills
was you only had work if the mill had orders.  When the
orders were down, the mill would go to four days or
maybe even three days per week.  When orders were high,
they would work around the clock twenty-four hours per
day with three shifts per day, but always closing for the
day shift on Sunday.               

School for the Patterson children that Friday was like any
other autumn day.  This was well into the football season,
and the Rockingham Rockets were undefeated so far.  
Both Dorothy and Sharon had dates for the football game
that night which was being played in the old ball field
over on Rockingham Road (about halfway between the
hospital and the current mall).  It only cost fifty cents for
adult admission and thirty-five cents for students.  
Norman and Doris might get to go, but Doris didn’t have a
job to pay for her admission.

Fred worked his clothing routes five nights a week and all
day on Saturday but not Saturday night.  Laura would use
the weekends including Friday night and all day Saturday
to do her housework including the washing and the
ironing.  Seems there was always some special project to
be done around the house with Fred working two jobs the
way he did.  Laura had the added responsibility of the
work Fred would have done.  Norman was good to help
especially with mowing and raking.  Doris was also good
to help her mother.  As good Christian people, they always
took Sunday off and attended church at both the morning
and evening services.  They didn’t work on Sundays, but
they did do a lot of socializing especially at the fellowship
hall (kitchen & eating area) at the church.

When Fred and Laura got home Friday after work, Fred
again asked her if he could have a piece of that walnut
cake.  And she repeated:  “Now Fred, you know we are
saving that cake for Rev. Robinson on Sunday.  You will
end up getting more of it than anyone else.”  So Fred ate a
peanut butter sandwich.  Laura then decided to put the
cake on the top shelf of the coat closet and cover it with
some dishtowels, so it wouldn’t tempt anyone else.  Fred’s
part-time work was going so well that he often didn’t have
enough new clothing to fill his station wagon.  Things
were on order, but his supplier in Atlanta just couldn’t get
things to him quickly enough.  He told his wife that he
was having dinner with a Mr. Coble and a Mr. Taylor on
Saturday at one o’clock at the Orange Bowl Restaurant
there on Hancock Street right across from the Buick
dealership.  They were considering going into business
with him to open a clothing store in downtown
Rockingham, and were to be silent partners in that they
would not participate in the management or daily running
of the store, but would be entitled to a percentage of the
profits.  This would enable Fred to fully stock his store
with men’s and boy’s clothing.  If that meeting went well,
he still had to make the difficult decision to quit his mill
job.  If the clothing store didn’t work out, he felt he could
always get another mill job at least somewhere if not at
the same mill.  If things don’t go well with Mr. Coble and
Mr. Taylor, Fred figured he might then go to the Bank for
a business loan.  One problem with that was that they
didn’t have much equity in their house.  Banks rarely
make loans without good security.  Fred worked his
clothing route that Saturday morning and made some
fairly good sales.    

Then he went to keep his appointment at the Orange Bowl
Restaurant with Mr. Coble and Mr. Taylor.  Both these
gentlemen were somewhat older than Fred, probably in
their early sixties.  They were both close to retiring, and
this investment was part, but not all, of their retirement
plans.  They all went to a table by the window with a nice
view of the outside.  Most of the US 1 dinner traffic had
left with only a few one o’clock customers other than Fred’
s group.  It was planned this way so they would have some
leisure time to talk during and after their dinner.  
Everything was going well.  Both Mr. Taylor and Mr.
Coble were both from Rockingham and couldn’t have
been nicer.  They worked out a plan that suited all three
of them.  All of these gentlemen had been highly
recommended by their references.  Then, as they were
preparing to leave, Fred passed out and slumped to the
floor.  The Manager and some of the other diners tried to
help Fred, but could not do anything to revive him; so
they quickly called the ambulance.  Back in those days the
ambulances were operated by the funeral homes.  The
drivers had little training except how to quickly get the
patients on the gurney and then quickly transport them to
the hospital.  At the hospital, the doctors worked with
Fred as much as they could.  However, there was little
they could do since Fred had just had a major myocardial
infarction (heart attack).  Fred died within thirty minutes
of arriving at the hospital.  Mr. Taylor and Mr. Coble went
to the hospital to check on Fred, but they were told the
bad news.

Someone had to go tell Mrs. Patterson.  Most Often in a
situation like this, a Deputy Sheriff gets this unpleasant
task.  Usually the Deputy doesn’t know the full story, so
he will just tell the victim’s wife that she needs to go to
the hospital to see about her husband.  The Deputy was
nice enough to drive Mrs. Patterson and Doris to the
hospital where it then fell to the doctors to relay the bad
news.  You can image how distraught Laura was.  Fred
appeared to have been in good health.  He hadn’t been to
a doctor since he was discharged from the Marine Corp
over ten years ago.  Doris had been the only child at
home, so when they got back home she had the
unpleasant task of notifying her sisters at the dime
stores.  Norman had been out on his paper route, but had
finished his route before anyone could tell him about his
dad.  He was suspicious when he saw all the cars at his
house as he returned, but didn’t know for sure until he
went inside.  The Deputy said he would call the
authorities at Fort Bragg to alert Michael about his dad.

The funeral was held Monday at the East Rockingham
Church.  It was filled to capacity as Rev. Robinson
provided the services.  It was a sad funeral.  Poor Fred
was just fifty-one.  He left behind his loving wife and five
adoring children.  The church was filled to capacity
including Mr. Taylor and Mr. Coble who had introduced
themselves to Mrs. Patterson the night before.  Everybody
was so nice and gracious to the family.

Laura had taken the entire week off from work.  The four
children at home didn’t go back to school until Thursday.  
Michael had the whole week off.  Fred did leave some life
insurance so that eased the financial pain a little.  Their
insurance agent mentioned that he had never heard a
widow or orphans complain because their husband or
father had too much life insurance.  It was Friday now, six
days after Fred had died.  The lives of the Patterson family
were about to show some semblance of normalcy.  Laura
still hadn’t had a good night sleep since before Fred’s
death, but she was getting better each day.  A death of a
loved one is very difficult even for the best of us.

Laura had some reason to go to the coat closet.  There she
saw that walnut cake setting up on the shelf where she
had placed it a week earlier.  It was starting to get old and
crusty by this time.  She had forgotten all about it in the
chaos of the funeral.