Code 0666

CODE 0666

Copyright © 2012 Michael A. Sardo

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-2920-1 (Softcover)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-3360-4 (Hardcover)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-6620-6 (Audio)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-2921-8 (E-Book)

iUniverse rev. date: 07/12/2016

Contents

DEDICATION

PREFACE

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

DEDICATION

This fictional book is dedicated to all of my jewish friends who never expected me to write anything like this.

Michael A. Sardo

TO SET THE RECORD STRAIGHT.

ALL GENTILES ARE

NOT CHRISTIANS

CHRISTIANITY IS A WAY OF LIFE.

CHRISTIANS ARE THOSE WHO CHOOSE TO FOLLOW THAT WAY OF LIFE

AND THE BIBLE IS THE RULE BOOK

PREFACE

As I write this story, it is hard to hold back the tears. God created everyone, and maniacs wanted to destroy some of them because they were Jews. What kind of logic or reasoning is this? God created the black man; what right did the racist have to hate him? God created all of our diversity. Does anyone have the right to hate and kill? Mankind can be so brutal. Why? I don’t know; I’m not God. There is an unresolved issue in my heart that bothers me about the Holocaust and compelled me to write this book.

Many stories have been told about the persecution of the Jewish people by the Nazis in concentration camps and slave labor camps all over Europe. This great tragedy must never be forgotten, and to this end, I feel my story must be told to anyone who will listen.

All names of individuals, locations, and institutions are fictitious. Any resemblances are strictly coincidental. Let us not forget: this is a work of fiction.

Chapter I

IT WAS TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2001. The sky was a rich blue, with just a few clouds that looked like enormous cotton balls in the sky. The beginning of fall in St. Louis is different. Warm weather seems to want to linger, but leaves start to turn as they usually do in the fall. The colors remind one of a Halloween or Thanksgiving greeting card available at an upscale stationery store.

This is the story of Mark Honeywell and a series of events in his life that were bewildering to him.

Mark Honeywell was seventy years old and stood six feet two inches. He was twenty pounds overweight, which annoyed him. He liked to eat all the wrong foods, and fast-food joints were always beckoning him to come in. He walked with a slight limp and was somewhat bent over. This was probably because he had had two knee replacements. He was far from having a good physique, but he didn’t look seventy years old.

What he lacked in the physical realm he made up for in the social and spiritual realms. His searching, deep-brown eyes could penetrate anyone’s inner being. Despite his nervous personality, Mark was an inquisitive man, always asking, Why this? Why that? He often displayed an inkling of an inferiority complex. Why? Because he never got the English degree he wanted from Columbia University in New York City. People around Mark often displayed racial prejudice and anti-Semitism. Derogatory religious and ethnic remarks irritated him. He frequently watched All in the Family, which enlightened him about Archie Bunker’s personality, something that would come to benefit him.

Mark’s friends came from diverse racial and ethnic backgrounds. And because of the many years he spent working in the home-furnishing business, Mark had developed people skills that made him an extremely likable person. His unassuming way with people and nonjudgmental personality made him many friends and many repeat customers. Mark made a lot of money in business. He saw every person he contacted in his business life as a potential buyer who needed help in making a purchasing decision. Always in the top 10 percent of sales associates, he was liked by both his Jewish and Oriental employers. Mark liked sales more than management because sales presented a greater challenge for him, and he could make more money. There was something electric about competition that excited him. His competitive drive was probably based on something deep in his ego.

That Tuesday, September 11, was no different for Mark than most other Tuesdays, though he got up earlier than his usual time of seven o’clock. He showered and then turned on the coffeepot. He and his wife, Rachel, never watched TV in the morning. They usually spent time with small talk and prayer while eating a leisurely, light breakfast. Mark and Rachel enjoyed this time together, especially since they were both workaholics.

Twenty years before, Mark and Rachel had established a small food pantry and men’s homeless shelter, and it was called A New Beginning. Everything at A New Beginning was free to hurting families. Keeping it stocked and running took a lot of work. Because of the economy, there was a great need for A New Beginning, and it grew rapidly. Mark, in a step of faith, took an early retirement so he could concentrate on the shop. At first, it was hard for him because he liked the big money he made in the furniture business. He hadn’t liked the management end of the furniture business, and he didn’t like the management end of this new endeavor, either. He was also somewhat impatient with his volunteer help because they didn’t meet his intellectual standards. A New Beginning was located twenty miles south of the city of St. Louis, in what could be called the country. Both Mark and Rachel moved from the Bronx and Brooklyn to St. Louis, and Rachel called it a culture shock to move to the suburbs of St. Louis.

Chapter II

RACHEL HAD A SPECIAL intuition when it came to other people, which made her a natural as a social worker for the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children in New York. It also helped her and Mark fit into their new home in the Midwest. They both made a great impression on the small community where they lived and worked. It seemed like the older they got, the more they liked to work. What was a vacation? They never took one; they were a tireless couple. They did, however, take the time to raise a family. Their three sons were now married and doing well.

Mark spent the morning of September 11, 2001, working alone and preparing for his lunchtime meeting at the Rotary Club. As he entered the restaurant at 11:45 a.m., something he had done for many years, the atmosphere was decidedly different than usual. People stood with shocked looks on their faces. Some people were crying, and it was obvious that others had been. What’s going on? Mark asked the president of the club.

You haven’t heard? the president asked incredulously. Mark shook his head. Mark, the club president said, planes have crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City and the Pentagon. We’ve been attacked. The blood drained from Mark’s face. His mind was no longer on his roles as fund-raiser, grant writer, and PR man. The attacks would change him forever.

That Tuesday afternoon and for an entire week after, Mark and Rachel did little but watch the news on TV, including stories about the events leading to the attacks. It seemed like a nightmare to see the displaced New Yorkers and the tragic loss of life of civilians, police, and firefighters. The clouds of smoke and ash in downtown New York City were incredible. Rachel and Mark watched President Bush and Mayor Giuliani struggle to relate the monstrous events of that horrific day to the whole world over national TV. As the days and weeks went by, Mark made every attempt to contact friends and relatives in the New York City area. He found a cousin whose son had perished on the ninetieth floor of one of the Twin Towers that day. The events and their aftermath reminded Mark of a phrase President Franklin D. Roosevelt used over the radio when describing the sneak attack at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. The president had called it a day which will live in infamy. September 11, 2001, would go down in history as another such day. Of that, Mark was certain.

Life changed for Mark and Rachel Honeywell after the Twin Towers fell. They began to attend church and were born again. They seriously studied the Bible, both Old and New Testaments. Rachel became a Sunday school teacher. Mark was challenged to read the Bible from cover to cover. He completed his reading in a year. Although Rachel’s challenge was different, it also dealt with the Bible. Her study of scripture was more in depth and had a greater emphasis on the Old Testament.

Chapter III

TWO YEARS PASSED. MARK was seventy-two and still going strong.