Grantville Gazette. Volume XX (ring of fire) Read online

  Brother Chalker's apartment was in the back of the new church building right behind the altar and choir loft. It was composed of a large study with a separate bedroom and bath.

  Fischer looked very distressed. "I should have done the graveside service. I should have been able to convince him to let me do it."

  "There's nothing you could have done, Dieter," Pete said. "I'm just glad you're here to take over the preaching duties tomorrow morning. I think it'll do the old man good to hear you preach while resting in his bed back here.

  "Doc Nichols is right. We've got to start taking a lot of the tasks away from him. Jennifer and I were talking. We're thinking it's time to expand the Council of Elders to five. What do you think?"

  Fischer sat in Chalker's chair behind the desk. "Yes, we're big enough to need more guidance now. It would also take some of the burden off of Brother Chalker."

  "That's our thought exactly." Pete paused. His eyes seemed to focus on something out the window. "Wait a minute. It's Brother Chalker's turn Monday morning!"

  "What?" Fischer looked confused.

  "The morning radio devotional. It's every second Monday. That's this week!"

  The five-minute devotional at the start of the broadcast day were the most important example of cooperation among the churches. The timetable was worked out by the Grantville Ecumenical Emergency Refugee Relief Committee. Many felt that this cooperation had shown the frightened down-timers an important aspect of the new American culture, different faiths cooperating in a common venture. It was also widely believed that this helped ease their transition to the up-timer culture as much as anything else that had been done.

  The Lutheran and Catholic ministers preached on every Saturday and Sunday morning. After all, they had the most followers in the VOA coverage area. The rest of the ministers drew straws for alternate weekdays, since it would take ten days to cover all the denominations involved.

  "Dieter, it isn't as easy getting behind that microphone as it seems," Pete said. "Remember last Labor Day? I was interviewed about how the new building codes were working out. I knew what I wanted to say, and what they were going to ask, but just sitting there, looking at one person and that microphone looking like a stick jabbing you in the face is very intimidating.

  "I kept thinking, 'they're going to laugh at your Cuban accent' and wishing I had said something a different way. I haven't been that nervous since I left Cuba on the boat to Florida. We'll have to think about some way to get you prepared for being on the air."

  "Whatever you say, Pete." Fischer leaned back in his chair. "I've listened to a lot of those devotionals since I've come here. Other than the Catholic and the Lutheran on the weekend, everyone else seems to stay with English. Do you think that it would be okay to speak in German?"

  Chapter Five

  "Your local weather forecast after this."

  "Regelmaessig, zuverlaessig, zu angemessenem Preis! That's right, your CPE Postal Service gets the mail through. Here in Grantville, just take your folded and sealed letters to the mailbox and a CPEPS official will come by to speed your correspondence or package wherever your associates or loved ones dwell.

  "Miss your aunt in Austria or your brother in Bavaria? How's your sister in Silesia or your mother in Magdeburg? The CPE Postal Service is here to serve you. Remember, neither rain, sleet, snow, nor war will stop the dependable couriers of your CPE Postal Service. Now more than ever, they're Regular, Reliable and Reasonable!

  "And don't forget, no postage necessary for any letters to your Voice of America."

  "The CPE Postal Service! Write someone today!"

  October 1633, Grantville, New United States, Confederated Principalities of Europe

  Central heating is a miracle. Franz Peck stamped the snow off his feet. Here it is five o'clock in the morning, I'm the first person in the studio, and the place has been kept warm all night long with no logs or coal fires to deal with.

  Franz hung up his overcoat and hat, and began his morning ritual. First, he walked into the back room and turned on the transmitter, next he powered up the broadcast equipment in the control room. While they warmed up, he flipped on the rest of the studio lights and trotted up the stairs to the main floor where he turned on the lights in the reception area and the break room before making the first pot of coffee of the day.

  Then he retrieved the morning log and other messages from his mailbox behind Helga Armbruster's desk. Taking it all back into the break room, he poured himself a cup and started to review the log entries. His boss, Deanna Dee, was meticulous with her logs and demanded that the air staff be just as precise. She carefully noted any new commercial copy to be announced live on that day's shift, or any other changes from routine, in a different color ink than what was normally used.

  Franz noted that the devotional this morning had a different name entered than those he was familiar with. No problem there, the morning preachers just came in, preached or prayed and left. Glancing again at the new commercial, he grinned, "Looks like 'Der Kronz' has had a busy sales week. Five new advertisers this morning."

  Marc Kronzburg had recently seen his first episode of Happy Days and decided that everyone should now refer to him as 'Der Kronz.' It was most entertaining to see the expression on his face when no one would go along with it.

  A note from Jennifer informed him that the new transmitter improvements had been tested, and this morning's broadcast would be at double its previous power. After reading through the new copy, Franz briefly went back downstairs to start the interval signal recording. This was a five-minute recording that Gayle made to be played before sign on each morning. It gave the listening audience a chance to get their receivers adjusted to the correct frequency before the first commercial. It was a recording of the West Virginia University Marching Band playing "Almost Heaven, West Virginia" followed by an announcer proclaiming, "This is the Voice of America, Grantville," followed by a pause, repeated over and over.

  Gayle had also taken a series of notes from some up-time record to use as the station identifier theme song, which was played at the top of each hour. Although what exactly "Ina-gada-da-vida" meant, no one seemed to know. He then ran back upstairs to fill his cup again.

  Franz was half way up when he heard the knock at the station front door. He hurried up the stairs to the station door and encountered his first surprise of the morning.

  Standing outside the station was not just the new minister that he was expecting. Instead, there stood three men, three women, and a large number of half-awake children.

  "Franz in the Morning?" one of the adults finally said, seeing the confusion in the face of the sandy haired young man who was making no movement to get out of the open doorway. Franz nodded.

  " Guten Tag! I am Brother Dieter Fischer; I'll be substituting for Brother Chalker this morning. These-" Fischer waved at the entourage behind him, "-are members of our congregation who came to help me feel comfortable in front of your microphone."

  Finally understanding the purpose of the unexpected audience, Franz welcomed the church group inside. After offering the adults coffee and the children water, he grabbed his morning paperwork and escorted them all downstairs to the studio. The interval recording still had plenty of time left before he had to go on the air himself, so he gave Brother Fischer his first lesson in how to perform on the radio.

  "I'll wave to signal you to start… That red light over there will come on when you are on the air… Make sure you stand directly in front of the mike, and keep it no more than six inches from your mouth… Speak slowly and clearly… Speak as though you're only talking to one person… For some reason, a smile on your face comes over the airwaves to the listener… When you have one minute left, I'll give you a hand signal to wrap up and another at thirty seconds… Relax and have fun!"

  Finishing now with his orientation, and having helped arrange the children and their parents in a semicircle on the floor around the seated Fischer in the main studio, Franz went into his broad
cast booth, and waited for the tape to end.

  ***

  "And now with our morning devotional, the Reverend Dieter Fischer of the Grantville Pentecostal Church." Franz flipped on the microphone and pointed at Fischer.

  "Good morning, Franz, and good morning to you listening in! I'm Brother Fischer of the Grantville Pentecostal Church and I'll be chatting with you in German this morning." Switching languages, he continued, "I have some of my favorite people with me this morning. Say hello, children."

  The children were well coached and shouted out in almost harmony, "Good morning, Europe!"

  "Very good! These are some of the children from our church. I thought I'd get them up this morning to tell them a story. Now children, have you ever listened to the radio?"

  Some of the younger children nodded their heads rapidly as the rest called out their positive response.

  "Do you like listening to the radio?"

  One child blurted out, "I like Robin of the Committees of Correspondence!" as the rest called out their yeses and other noises of affirmation.

  "I like Robin of the Committees of Correspondence too, Georg!" Fischer beamed at the child; he was in his element now. "You know that some people listen to the radio on big up-time radio sets, and some listen on small radio sets, and some people use crystal radios and put little bitty speakers right up close to their ears to listen to the radio.

  "Do you think those people who listen on the homemade crystal sets hear a different message on their radios than those who have the big expensive up-time radios?"

  The children all yelled out "No!" with great enthusiasm.

  "That's right. Everyone hears the same message on the radio. Did you ever think that God was like the message we all hear on the radio? I mean, the Bible tells us that God is the same yesterday as he is today, and as he will be tomorrow. So, he's telling us the same message that he's told our ancestors since the beginning of time and the same message that he's going to tell our children when we're gone." Fischer paused for effect, then continued.

  "You see children, the Bible says that God sent down His Son to live with us and to die for us, and after he died and went to heaven to live with His Father, God didn't want us to think that He'd forgotten about us. So He sent down the Holy Spirit to live with us every day of our lives. Through His Holy Ghost, He talks directly to us in that little voice that tells us what to do good and what things we shouldn't do that are bad."

  Slightly adjusting the pitch of his voice, Fischer now made his point. "The Holy Ghost is like a radio. It's a tiny, tiny little voice that whispers to us every minute of every day. Isn't that a wonderful thing that God has given us to let us all hear Him?"

  Again the children called out their happy little voices of approval as the parents behind them signaled them to begin singing the song that they had practiced.

  "Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world! Red or yellow, black or white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world."

  Fischer looked to Franz who was staring back captivated by what was happening in his studio. Breaking out of his trance he looked to the clock to find that he had allowed the devotional to run seventy seconds too long. Not knowing what else to do, he signaled Fischer with the thirty seconds signal.

  Fischer turned back to the mike, and over the children still singing in the background, closed saying, "Thank you for having listened in this morning. This has been Brother Fischer of the Grantville Pentecostal Church. Have a blessed day out there. Remember to listen to the Holy Spirit speaking to you right now."

  As an afterthought, he added, "And remember to turn your radio on!"

  Somewhere in the Voice of America Coverage Area

  "Papa, Papa! Come, listen, I can hear something!"

  Hermann got up from his breakfast table and went over by the window where his daughter sat on the floor playing with that stupid little rat's nest of wire and rocks. He should have never brought that broadside home from the CoC meeting. Taking the offered earpiece from his little girl's hands, he heard a very tinny sound distinguishable from behind the static. It sounded like singing.

  Then, some real words, "… Brother Fischer… Grantville. .. Church… Listen to the Holy Spirit… Turn your radio on!"

  "It's actually working!" he exclaimed. "God in heaven, this latest bit of American propaganda is actually working."

  ***

  "Hans, I told you that we'd be able to pick up the American radio station sooner or later! When our first customers come in this morning, they will stay longer and order more food for their breakfast! We're going to get rich!"

  Hanna had nagged her husband to buy the up-timer radio set shortly after their town bought a generator.

  "What's the name of that pastor?"

  ***

  "'… Brother Fischer… Grantville Pentecostal Church… Holy Spirit speaking to you right now. Let me remind you to turn your radio on!'… 'You're listening to Voice of America.'"

  "Not one, but many voices! What will these Americans think of next?"

  Johann decided that he really did need to take a pilgrimage into this Grantville place. His crop yield had more than doubled this harvest after an American master gardener had helped his village to improve their planting plans. The co-op that the CoC had helped him and his neighbors start up had resulted in the highest price that anyone in town could remember for their produce. And now this!

  Johann smiled. I really need to give back to these wonderful people somehow.

  ***

  "Did you hear the power in that voice, Catharina?" Constanzia Garb waved at the up-time radio that was one of the main attractions in the kitchen of their boarding house. "He was so good with the children too."

  "He sounds like he's from Saxony, but there's something about the pacing of his words that's very… intriguing." Catharina Sulzer thought for a moment. "Constanzia, we might need to visit that church. It would be good research for your 'secret mission.'"

  Both girls laughed. Constanzia replied, "Indeed. If it will keep you out of trouble with my stick-in-the-mud Uncle Emanuel, research is what it will be. But now we need to finish getting ready or we'll miss the trolley. And you know how the principal hates teachers who are late to their first class of the morning."

  Chapter Six

  November 1633, Grantville, State of Thuringia, United States of Europe

  Joellen Schwartz dabbed at the corners of her eyes, and amid scattered applause, sat back down at her table with her plaque in hand.

  Turning to her neighbor, she said, "We really did do a lot of good in the last two and a half years. Look at you! You came in through the Grantville Ecumenical Emergency Relief Committee's refugee program. You've been a big help on the steering committee this last year, and now you're a minister and on the radio and everything. I'm so proud of you!"

  Patting the last of his pie crumbs off his lips, Fischer replied, "Not on the radio permanently. I'm just filling in for Brother Chalker until he gets better."

  "Well, I didn't hear it myself, but I don't know how many people have told me what a good job they think you did." Joellen squeezed Fischer's hand, "I think you have a talent for that kind of thing."

  "Thank you, but it was just a little children's story told early in the morning."

  ***

  Frowning, Helga sorted through the problem mail one more time. As if she didn't have enough problems with having to learn how to operate this new typewriting machine Mr. Grover had bought her and keeping up with all these dizzying projects that the company was working on. Now she was having to process mail for people she hadn't been notified of.

  "Good morning, Helga!" Franz said as he came upstairs after finishing his morning shift.

  "Good morning! Franz, you got a couple of letters from Bavaria today."

  "Really? Let me see." Franz walked over and opened up the offered mail. "Someone must have mailed it from north of the Danube or west of the Lech." Tearing one open a
nd reading it, he exclaimed, "They can hear me! All the way back home in Garching bei Munchen, they can hear our broadcasts! This is amazing."

  He ripped open the next one. "This is from one of my professors at the University of Ingolstadt! He said he couldn't believe it when he heard my voice on his new radio last Monday. We've got to tell Mr. Grover. Where is he?"

  "Herr Grover is out of town this week. He's trying to get a new source of supply for something or the other." Helga pulled out her notepad. "I'll make sure he gets the message as soon as he gets back."

  Thinking of her other problem, Helga asked, "Franz, by any chance do you know who this 'Der Fischer' person is? We've started receiving mail for him." She waved a small handful of letters to emphasize her point.

  Franz looked puzzled, and then replied, "Yeah, that's the guy that did the morning devotional last Monday. Just put it in my box and when he comes back in, I'll give it to him."

  With that, Franz walked out of the station lost in reading his unexpected fan mail. With nothing else to do with them, Helga dropped her handful of letters back into the half-filled mailbag of correspondence that this 'Der Fischer' had received in the morning's mail. Next to it sat another mailbag. It was full.

  ***

  "You were right, Catharina. He is even more dynamic behind the pulpit than he is on the radio! I think it's the way he paces himself to that wonderful up-time cadence. It is quite mesmerizing."

  "Yes, and what's more, he's single!" The girls laughed at the thought of competing for the hand of this very eligible young pastor. Catharina giggled. "But you know my father. He would have a fit if I told him I was seeing someone other than a Lutheran."