A Long Line of Dead Men Read online

Page 2

 

  "There will be years when you may not wish to show up, when attendance seems inconvenient in the extreme. I urge you to regard this one commitment as unalterable. Some of you will have moved away from New York, and may find the prospect of an annual return burdensome. And there may be times when you think of the club itself as silly, as something you have outgrown, as a part of your life you would prefer to cast aside.

  "Do not do it! The club of thirty-one plays a very small part in any members life. It takes up but one night a year. And yet it gives our lives a focus that other men never know. My young brothers, you are links in a chain that reaches back unbroken to the founding of this republic, and you are part of a tradition with its roots in ancient Babylon. Every man in this room, every man ever born, spends his life approaching his death. Every day he takes another step in deaths direction. It is a hard road to walk alone, a much easier road to walk in good company.

  "And, if your path is the longest and you should turn out to be the last to finish, you have one further obligation. It will be up to you to find thirty young men, thirty fine men of promise, and bring them together as I have brought you together, to forge one more link in the chain. "

  Repeating Champneys words three decades later, Lewis Hildebrand seemed a little embarrassed by them. He said that they probably sounded silly, but not when you heard Homer Champney say them.

  The old mans energy was contagious, he said. You caught his fever, but it wasnt just a matter of getting swept up in his enthusiasm. Later on, when youd had a chance to cool off, you still bought what hed sold you. Because hed somehow made you understand something you never would have seen otherwise.

  "Theres one further part of the evenings program," Champney told them. "Well go around the room. Each man in turn will stand up and tell us four things about himself. His name, his present age, the most interesting fact he can tell about himself, and how he feels now, right now, about embarking on this great journey with his thirty fellows.

  "Ill begin, although Ive probably covered all four points already. Let me see. My name is Homer Gray Champney. Im eighty-five years old. The most interesting thing I can think of about me, aside from my being the surviving member of the clubs last chapter, is that I attended the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo in 1901 and shook the hand of President William McKinley less than an hour before he was assassinated by that anarchist, and what was his name? Czolgosz, of course, Leon Czolgosz. Who could forget that poor misguided wretch?

  "And how do I feel about what were doing tonight? Well, boys, Im excited. Im passing the torch and I know Im placing it in good and capable hands. Ever since the last man of the old group died, ever since I got the word, Ive had the most awful fear of dying before I could carry on my mission. So its a great load off my mind, and a feeling of, oh, of a great beginning.

  "But Im running off at the mouth. Four sentences, really, is all thats required, name, age, fact, and feeling. Well start at this table, I think, with you, Ken, and well just go around…"

  "Im Kendall McGarry, Im twenty-four, and the most interesting fact about me is that an ancestor of mine signed the Declaration of Independence. I dont know how I feel about joining the club. Excited, I guess, and also that its a big step, although I dont know why it should be. I mean, its just one night a year…"

  "John Youngdahl, twenty-seven. The most interesting…well, just about the only fact about me I can think of these days is Im getting married a week from Sunday. Thats got my head so scrambled I cant tell you how I feel about anything, but I have to say Im glad to be here, and to be a part of all this…"

  "Im Bob Berk. Thats B-e-r-k, not B-u-r-k-e, so Im Jewish, not Irish, and I dont know why I seem to feel compelled to mention that. Maybe thats the most interesting thing about me. Not that Im Jewish, but that its the first thing out of my mouth. Oh, Im twenty-five, and how do I feel? Like you all belong here and I dont, but thats how I always feel, and Im probably not the only person here who feels that way, right? Or maybe I am, I dont know…"

  "Brian OHara, and thats with an apostrophe and a capital H, so Im Irish, not Japanese…"

  * * *

  "Im Lewis Hildebrand. Im twenty-five. I dont know if its interesting, but Im one-eighth Cherokee. As for how I feel, I can hardly say how I feel. I have the sense of being a part of something much larger than myself, something that started before me and will extend beyond my lifetime…"

  "Im Gordon Walser, age thirty. Im an account executive at Stilwell Reade and Young, but if thats the most interesting thing about me Im in trouble Well, heres something hardly anybody knows about me. I was born with a sixth finger on each hand. I had surgery when I was six months old. You can see the scar on the left hand but not on the right…"

  "Im James Severance… I dont know whats interesting about me. Maybe the most interesting thing is that Im here with all of you right now. I dont know what Im doing here, but it sort of feels like a turning point…"

  "My names Bob Ripley, and Ive heard all the Believe It or Not jokes…One thought I had before I got here tonight is that its morbid to have a club of people who are just waiting to die. But thats not how it feels at all. I agree with Lew, I have the sense that Ive become a part of something important…"

  "… know its superstitious, but the thought keeps coming to me that forcing ourselves to be aware of the inevitability of death will just make it come along sooner…"

  "… a car accident the night of high school graduation. There were six of us in my best friends Chevy Impala and everybody else was killed. I got a broken collarbone and a couple of superficial cuts. Thats the most interesting thing about me, and its also how I feel about tonight. See, that was eight years ago, and Ive had death on my mind ever since…"

  "… I think the only way to describe how I feel is to say that the only other time I felt anything like this was the night my baby daughter was born…"

  * * *

  Thirty men, ranging in age from twenty-two to thirty-two. All of them white, all of them living in or around New York City. Theyd all had some college, and most had graduated. More than half were married. More than a third had children. One or two were divorced.

  Now, thirty-two years later, more than half of them were dead.

  2

  By the time I met Lewis Hildebrand, thirty-two years and six weeks after he became a member of the club of thirty-one, he had lost a lot of hair in front and thickened considerably through the middle. His blond hair, parted on the side and slicked back, was silver at the temples. He had a broad, intelligent face, large hands, a firm but unaggressive grip. His suit, blue with a chalk stripe, must have cost a thousand dollars. His wristwatch was a twenty-dollar Timex.

  He had called me late the previous afternoon at my hotel room. I still had the room, although for a little over a year Id been living with Elaine in an apartment directly across the street. The hotel room was supposed to be my office, although it was by no means a convenient place to meet clients. But Id lived alone in it for a good many years. I seemed to be reluctant to let go of it.

  He told me his name and said hed got mine from Irwin Meisner. "Id like to talk to you," he said. "Do you suppose we could meet for lunch? And is tomorrow too soon?"

  "Tomorrows fine," I said, "but if its something extremely urgent I could make time this evening. "

  "Its not that urgent. Im not sure its urgent at all. But its very much on my mind, and I dont want to put it off. " He might have been talking about his annual physical, or an appointment with his dentist. "Do you know the Addison Club? On East Sixty-seventh? And shall we say twelve-thirty?"

  * * *

  The Addison Club, named for Joseph Addison, the eighteenth-century essayist, occupies a five-story limestone town-house on the south side of Sixty-seventh Street between Park and Lexington avenues. Hildebrand had stationed himself within earshot of the reception desk, and when I gave my name to the uniformed attendant he came over and introduced himself. In the first-flo
or dining room, he rejected the first table we were offered and chose one in the far corner.

  "San Giorgio on the rocks with a twist," he told the waiter. To me he said, "Do you like San Giorgio? I always have it here because not many restaurants stock it. Do you know it? Its basically an Italian dry vermouth with some unusual herbs steeped in it. Its very light. Im afraid the days of the lunchtime martinis are over for me. "

  "Ill have to try it sometime," I said. "Today, though, I think Ill have a Perrier. "

  He apologized in advance for the food. "Its a nice room, isnt it? And of course they dont hurry you, and with the tables so far apart and half of them empty, well, I thought we might be glad of the privacy. The kitchens not too bad if you stay with the basics. I usually have a mixed grill. "

  "That sounds good. "

  "And a green salad?"

  "Fine. "

  He wrote out the order and handed the card to the waiter. "Private clubs," he said. "An endangered species. The Addison is presumably a club for authors and journalists, but the membership for years now has run largely to people in advertising and publishing. These days I think theyll pretty much take you if youve got a pulse and a checkbook and no major felony convictions. I joined about fifteen years ago when my wife and I moved up to Stamford, Connecticut. There were a lot of nights when I would work late and miss the last train and have to stay over. Hotels cost a fortune, and I always felt like a shady character checking in without luggage. They have rooms on the top floor here, very reasonable and available at short notice. Id been thinking about joining anyway, and that gave me an incentive. "

  "So you live in Connecticut?"

  He shook his head. "We moved back five years ago when our youngest boy finished college. Well, dropped out of it, I should say. Were living half a dozen blocks from here, and I can walk to work on a day like today. Its beautiful out, isnt it?"

  "Yes. "

  "Well, New York in June. Ive never been to Paris in April, but I understand its apt to be wet and dreary. Mays a lot nicer there, but the song works better with April in it. You need the extra syllable. But New York in June, you can see why theyd write songs about it. "

  When the waiter brought our food Hildebrand asked me if Id like a beer with it. I said I was fine. He said, "Ill have one of the nonalcoholic beers. I forget which ones you stock. Do you have ODouls?"

  They did, and he said hed have one, and looked at me expectantly. I shook my head. The nonalcoholic beers and wines all have at least a trace of alcohol. Whether its enough to affect a sober alcoholic is an open question, but the people Ive known in AA who insisted they could drink Moussy or ODouls or Sharps with impunity all wound up picking up something stronger sooner or later.

  Anyway, what the hell would I want with a beer with no kick to it?

  We talked about his work- he was a partner in a small public-relations firm- and about the pleasures of living in the city again after a stretch in the suburbs. If Id met him at his office wed have gotten right down to business, but instead we were following the traditional rules of a business lunch, holding the business portion until wed finished with the food.