12 October @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2187: no need

Image by Tom from Pixabay

As his grandchildren had done in the custody of his Lee cousins, Robert Edward Ludlow Sr., retired army captain, got up and put on his Sunday best on Sunday morning and then got on Zoom – first for the early service at the Veteran's Lodge, and then for the Good Neighbors Fellowship.

The difference between grandfather and grandchildren is that they had been shielded – as they should have been – from the full impact of all the things they had experienced since the death of their parents. Capt. Ludlow, by contrast, had chosen to move through all of the things … the choice of an intensive eight-week EMDR therapy course meant that. Week 1 had been equal parts effective and devastating.

There were no words – none – to describe Capt. Ludlow's need to hear the songs and put things on mute so he could sing the hymns in his full basso profundo so he could hear himself affirm – and put the camera off so when his voice cracked and the tears came because of the sudden connection of his emotions to the knowledge of the overwhelming love of God in his brokenness.

There were no words – none – to describe the captain's need for the Word of God, and hear it preached well, twice. He could not understand how he had even gotten to the age of 39 and felt he had no need until then – how he “did church” when it was convenient, and picked up the Bible when convenient, and all was well.

Except it wasn't. To age 39, he had not known the trouble he, his marriage, his children, and his grandchildren were in.

Capt. Ludlow was now 58, and had spent 19 years finding out … and a week into intensive inpatient therapy truly clear to him, just with all he had not even known he was carrying within him, that the only way he had survived while his unrepentant first wife and children had not was the grace of God.

Edwin Ludlow, his father, had not lived to see 55. His Slocum-Bolling uncles had lived to be old, unrepentant men who had lived long enough for their Ludlow nephew to turn them in for the murders they had done before him in childhood, and they would end their days in prison. Two were on suicide watch after Uncle Saul had ended himself in jail.

And then Sallie Stone was singing at the end of the Good Neighbors Fellowship, a neo-gospel song that brought tradition and modernity together over her huge vocal range:

“It could have been me, sleeping in my grave,
But You made old Death get back and behave –
There's no kind of lost that I could not be
Except You, my Lord, keep on keeping me!
THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!”

(Just so you can get the sense of what Capt. Ludlow heard, I'll fill in!)

That last cry took Capt. Ludlow out, something he did not realize that he could even have happen to him emotionally … but the song tapped a portion of his soul that desperately needed emotional release, and afterward, he felt refreshed and much lighter … and then he put into the chat if he might have a copy of the music, for his voice had the range to sing that in basso profundo … he was by no means a gospel singer, but he still wished to learn it as a personal anthem.

Young Ms. Stone sent him a signed copy of the sheet music in five minutes, and Col. F.V. Wozniak, one of Lofton County's resident composers of classical-style music, also jumped into the chat and asked for permission to arrange it for Capt. Ludlow, and for the young lady's CashApp. Ms. Stone said yes and yes … and between the colonel and the captain received a smooth $500 blessing that Sunday.

Quite by accident, Capt. Ludlow had taken the first step to his last career … delayed, but not denied … for after he had left the chat to compose himself and get ready for lunch with his wife, the chat filled with people that had been looking to hear him sing again since Maj. Thibodeaux's funeral – everybody in Lofton County knew about Ms. Stone, and she had five albums out, but Capt. Ludlow's appearance as the Commendatore in the lockdown production of Don Giovanni was not yet out, so there was no way to hear the most remarkable bass voice in Virginia save for that one recording of his solo singing at Maj. Thibodeaux's funeral... and that had gone around and created demand around the world.

Col. Wozniak, who worked with the captain on his voice and also taught the captain's grandchildren in music, realized yet again that day that Capt. Ludlow, if he focused on it, could make enough money recording the songs that were meaningful to him to provide his grandchildren a legacy. That voice would go viral in a heartbeat because so many people were at home, needing to hear songs of strong comfort – and that would be the name of the debut album.

“I know,” Col. H.F. Lee said when he got the call from the older colonel about it. “I don't even know why Robert started a soda company, with that voice. His grandchildren are over here literally crying about missing his singing, and I made a note just yesterday to see if I could get him into the studio to record some songs for them, and then I would do my best to just keep him going. On the other hand, Col. Wozniak, Robert and I are cousins, and I can tell you that I had to get emotionally healed before I could do music regularly again, so it could be that he is just beginning to get to the point in which he can do what is so obvious to everyone else that he should.

“He just turned 58, and he's a basso profundo – got probably a good 10-20 years if he takes care of his voice, so there is no hurry, even though people have been searching for him all up and down the Veteran's Lodge and through Fruitland Memorial Park, hearing him somewhere but not being able to track him down because he does not sing long enough away from home. They can all wait, Col. Wozniak. Robert has got to be ready for all that … but I think if we start with him doing it for his grandchildren by the time the recording that Capt. Maynor has of him as Commendatore comes out, it will all come together naturally then. Right – his premiering of the song by Maj. Thibodeaux has already gone clear around the world – so it is just a matter of time.”

Meanwhile, Capt. Ludlow, not knowing of any of this, arrived at Mrs. Ludlow's accommodations to take her to Sunday lunch … and the search in Fruitland Memorial Park began again for the bass-voiced crooner of love songs because he was relaxed enough to burst into song to his wife ... briefly ... he still evaded identification among the trees, one last time ... the nearest person to find him simply did not realize that the old couple (his white hair gave that impression) kissing was connected to the singing, although from Mrs. Ludlow's perspective, there was a big, big connection ...