AKA Miss Jane Pittman
Denise Walsh Brown has been a Stark County resident since 1971 when she married and moved here. She currently lives in Plain Township. She is the mother of four grown sons: Jared, 37; Justin, 24; Jesse, 23; and Jacob, 22. From 1974-1984 she worked as one of the top real estate agents in Stark County for T.K. Harris. In 1984, she became the original family liaison for Aultman Emergency room, doing crisis counseling and communication for twenty years. She took early retirement in 2004 due to kidney cancer. In 2007, she began working for the North Canton Public Library in the children’s department.
Ms. Brown has several books in the works, including three children’s stories, a book of connected stories about her twenty years in an emergency department and two biographies: Republican Bliss about the late National Republican Chairman, Ray C. Bliss and Dame, a telling of the life of Helen Waterhouse, an early investigative reporter and reporter on early aviation.
Denise hopes to live long enough to irritate her sons and reach the goal of publication of something.
Under the August Sun
2010 winnerThe man limped across the dusty midway with a halting, lop-sided gait. His mouth hung open and spit dribbled from the corners. He was hot and dirty with sweat spattering his face. The only thing that would make someone reconsider that this man was not the derelict he seemed, was the intense, intelligent look emanating from brilliant blue eyes. Even in the throes of an obviously crushing physical illness, it was apparent that Tom Walsh was still a man with strong purpose. He and his daughter had arrived at the Cuyahoga County Fairgrounds just as the sky turned from dusty purple to morning gold and pink. By 8 a.m., all the mist and ground fog had burned off with the promise of a scorching Ohio summer day. By the time the gates opened to the crowd, Tom had already put in what would constitute a full day’s work for many people. Now he paused, however, trying to figure out where his girl had gone.
His daughter had just turned fourteen and was starting the long trek into womanhood. He was grateful that she still liked to go to the fairs with him. In fact, now that she was older, he could trust her with working some of the games, helping to stock and counting money. On several occasions she had been sharp-eyed enough to see workers pilfering from their money aprons. But where could she have gotten to now? He noticed that the kegs joint was fully stocked, but no daughter was present putting on any finishing touches. Then he heard his name being called from a nearby food tent.
“Tom; hey Tom. Get your behind over here. I got your girl and your breakfast waiting for you.”
Roger Duncan was one of the good guys in the world of concessionaires. There was no artifice about him—what you see is what you get. Duncan had been very good to Tom since the onslaught of his Parkinson’s. When he had to lose eighty pounds in order to have experimental brain surgery, Duncan had fed him all the fresh fruit, vegetables and lean meat possible and kept Tom away from the luscious, high-calorie foods he loved. Hell, Duncan was better than a wife. Now, his daughter was engaged in animated conversation with Roger about how she felt going into her freshman year of high school.
“’Bout time, old man. Your girl here was ready to wear me out with her stories. Not only does she look like you, but she sure is a spellbinder. She has your gift of gab.”
Tom looked at his daughter with an affectionate gaze. It was true. She could go on and on about most any subject. She was pin-point sharp and interested in everything. Most of the time, talking with her was like talking with an adult. But she could rattle on. Lord knows many the times he would look at her sideways and mouth two letters: BM, for Big Mouth. She knew then to shut it down for a while and remember that she had two ears and only one mouth for a reason. No matter though, he was devoted to her and he knew she loved him equally. She was always up for hopping into the latest truck he had purchased and heading out to whatever fair he was working. He could awaken her early in the morning for a trip to Cleveland or Pittsburgh to go on a plush run for stuffed animals and she would be raring to go. Yes sir, having a daughter was a fine thing indeed. Now as he finished his food, he thought to himself that today he just might have a special surprise for her.
The afternoon wore on, getting hotter and more humid. When you looked down the midway toward the grandstand, the air shimmered and hummed from the accumulation of the heat. It was becoming crowded. People were jostling one another for position to try their luck at the games of skill or to buy a hot dog on a stick. However, Tom was glad to see the heavy turnout. The Ohio economy had been spotty recently and money to spend on entertainment was scarce. Also, a new governor had been elected to the statehouse and the concessionaire’s official organization, the Ohio Showman’s Association, was confident that this new regime was going to be much more receptive to the needs of their members. All in all, he was hopeful that these seven days were going to be highly profitable.
Just as Tom was pondering the state of his personal economy, his daughter hopped over the counter of the game she had been tending. She looked like one of the wilted flowers on display in the agricultural building.
“Daddy, I am s-o-o-o-o hot! I gotta get out of here for a while. Besides, I want to ride the Round-Up and see the world’s largest rat and get a steak-on-a…”
He stopped her in mid-want list.
“Listen, peanut. Stick it out for a little longer until the dinner hour and we’ll go over to Duncan’s or Downey’s for supper and then you can do some things. But I want you to stay away from the geeks in the sideshows. Besides, there might be a surprise coming your way. ”
She raised her eyebrows quizzically. “But, Daddy…”
“No buts.”
Just as he uttered his end-to-the-conversation, a commotion seemed to be coming from further down the midway. A knot of very serious, extremely tall State Highway Patrolmen seemed to be clearing a path through the throng of people. Their guns were holstered at their hips and their dark glasses kept catching sharp beams of sunlight. It appeared that these officers were quietly scanning the surroundings for any kind of impending mischief. In the center of that queue stood an equally tall, but older, silver-haired gentleman holding a glass of lemonade. His walk was the easy self-assured walk of a man who understood from where he was coming and already knew where he was headed. His smile seemed genuine and he was only too ready to shake any hand that came into his grasp. James A. Rhodes, newly-elected governor of Ohio had arrived to celebrate the 70th Cuyahoga County Fair in style.
He maneuvered through the sauntering crowd doing his folksy meet-and-greet that had helped elect him. He finally made it to Tom Walsh’s string of six tents. The surprise with which Tom had teased his daughter stood there, larger than life.
“Tommy! How the Hell are you? This is a GREAT day for a fair; a good day to be alive and kickin’.”
“Yes, it is, Governor. It’s about time the weather cooperated. And now with you in office, we’re all hoping the economy will start to cooperate too,” replied Tom with slow emphasis.
“Listen, Tom. You know how I feel about you showmen. The support and campaign money you folks put together for me won’t be forgotten by my administration.
‘Work’ is going to be the best four-letter word for Ohioans. Tell me though: how are you
doing? I heard you had another surgery at the Clinic.” Rhodes seemed to drop the polished air of the consummate politician and utter the question with the concern of an old friend.
“Yes, I did. But I’m doing fine. I’d like to introduce you to the best reason I have to keep going. I have my daughter with me today.”
Tom reached around to the end of the counter where his girl stood. As he did so, his daughter wished for nothing more than to quietly evaporate. Here she was being introduced to the governor of Ohio and she was hot, sweaty and smelly. What little make-up she wore had disappeared hours before. She had on shorts and a sleeveless blouse, nothing that would constitute appropriate attire in her view. The governor, however, seemed not to notice any breach of etiquette or decorum. He reached around and tugged on her hand in order to bring her in front of him.
“So you’re Tom’s girl? Well, we finally get to meet. Do you know how far back your daddy and I go? All I hear from him is about you; says you’re smart as a whip. Aren’t you the spelling champ? You know, your father is awfully proud of you.”
Tom’s daughter smiled and nodded her head and threw in a couple of “yes sirs”, but was otherwise overwhelmed by what seemed to be a human perpetual motion machine. The governor put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a fatherly squeeze and a warm smile. Rhodes then strode back to her father.
“Tommy, someday your chick here is going to make you a proud man. Besides, she’s your spit-and-image,”
“Yeah, Jimmy. That’s what everyone says. She’s a good girl and I hope she always will be,” Tom replied.
With a strong handshake and a sunny smile that matched the day, the governor started to amble away. The pack of State Highway Patrolmen moved down the dusty path with him. The buzz of the crowd that had been generated started to dissipate. Everyone seemed to be moving on to the grandstand or the motorcycle daredevils or the merry-go-round. The people wanted to enjoy their day under the August sun. Thus, for a short while, Tom Walsh was left alone.
Except for his daughter.
As he turned around ready to go back under one of the counters, I gently placed my hand through the crook of his arm, helping him keep his balance and not fall. I never left his side, providing him with the same support that he had always given me. Because after all, I was Tom’s girl.