working underground because he had wanted to.
Was that really true?
Joanna wondered now.
Or was he forced out?
“When did your husband die?” Joanna asked.
“August 4, 1968,” Abby answered without the slightest hesitation, as though the date were indelibly engraved on her heart the same way the date of Andy’s death was engraved on Joanna’s.
“We were newlyweds who didn’t have any money,” Abby continued. “All the miners in town were broke because of the strike, and nobody could afford to go on vacation, us included, but because it was so hot, we decided to go camping in the White Mountains during shutdown. The accident happened the day after Fred went back to work. The mine inspectors said that something must have shifted during the shutdown and that caused the stope to collapse.”
In the old Phelps Dodge days, the word “shutdown,” in Bisbee, had meant that the mines simply ceased operation for two weeks during the summer, and everyone who worked for the company went on vacation at the same time. Joanna’s father was already working for the sheriff’s department by the time she was born. So even though her family wasn’t directly affected by the shutdown, Joanna remembered how long and lonely those two weeks seemed to be when it had felt as though she were the only child left on Planet Bisbee.
Now Joanna made a mental note of the date Abby Holder had mentioned. It was obviously a pivotal one in Abby’s life, but Joanna wondered if perhaps it might be important in her own family’s history as well.
“More tea?” Abby asked, reaching for Joanna’s empty cup.
“Yes, please,” Joanna said. “Now, perhaps we could go back to your telling us what you know about Debra Highsmith.”
CHAPTER 7
DEB AND JOANNA SAT IN ABBY’S OVERSTUFFED LIVING ROOM FOR the better part of another hour, asking questions and taking notes. Abby allowed as how Debra Highsmith had seemed to be out of sorts for the past several weeks, although, as far as her secretary knew, there was nothing specific that had caused any kind of problem, at least nothing that had filtered down to the secretarial level. Abby knew of no fractious relations with any of the faculty members. Bisbee High School students, as a group, had performed well on their standardized tests, scoring several points better than they had a year earlier. Debra’s relationships with the school board and the district office were fine …
Abigail Holder abruptly stopped speaking as a thoughtful but telltale frown flitted across her face.
“What?” Joanna prodded.
“Well, there was that one situation with the board.”
“What situation was that?”
“Ms. Highsmith suspended a student, and the board made her back off.”
“Would the student in question happen to be Marty Pembroke?” Joanna asked.
“Why, yes,” Abby said, blinking in surprise. “That’s the one. How did you know?”
“Word gets around,” Joanna said, answering Abby’s question in a fashion that was only one small step short of a terse “no comment.”
“Although,” she added, after a pause, “I don’t think I remember seeing anything about it in the
Bisbee Bee
.”
“That’s right,” Abby said. “Most of the discussions were conducted behind closed doors because the student involved is still a juvenile. The only thing that was made public was that the terms of a suspension had been adjusted so that schoolwork and exams could be made up after the fact. When Ms. Highsmith came to work the next morning, she was absolutely livid. In all the years we worked together, I never saw her as upset as she was that day until a couple of days later.”
“She was more upset later? Why? What happened then?”
“Even though the paper didn’t publish anything on the subject, that didn’t stop the kid from going public. I haven’t seen it, but I’ve been told Marty wrote a blog entry about it and posted the whole story on his Facebook page, complete with an utterly despicable
Was that really true?
Joanna wondered now.
Or was he forced out?
“When did your husband die?” Joanna asked.
“August 4, 1968,” Abby answered without the slightest hesitation, as though the date were indelibly engraved on her heart the same way the date of Andy’s death was engraved on Joanna’s.
“We were newlyweds who didn’t have any money,” Abby continued. “All the miners in town were broke because of the strike, and nobody could afford to go on vacation, us included, but because it was so hot, we decided to go camping in the White Mountains during shutdown. The accident happened the day after Fred went back to work. The mine inspectors said that something must have shifted during the shutdown and that caused the stope to collapse.”
In the old Phelps Dodge days, the word “shutdown,” in Bisbee, had meant that the mines simply ceased operation for two weeks during the summer, and everyone who worked for the company went on vacation at the same time. Joanna’s father was already working for the sheriff’s department by the time she was born. So even though her family wasn’t directly affected by the shutdown, Joanna remembered how long and lonely those two weeks seemed to be when it had felt as though she were the only child left on Planet Bisbee.
Now Joanna made a mental note of the date Abby Holder had mentioned. It was obviously a pivotal one in Abby’s life, but Joanna wondered if perhaps it might be important in her own family’s history as well.
“More tea?” Abby asked, reaching for Joanna’s empty cup.
“Yes, please,” Joanna said. “Now, perhaps we could go back to your telling us what you know about Debra Highsmith.”
CHAPTER 7
DEB AND JOANNA SAT IN ABBY’S OVERSTUFFED LIVING ROOM FOR the better part of another hour, asking questions and taking notes. Abby allowed as how Debra Highsmith had seemed to be out of sorts for the past several weeks, although, as far as her secretary knew, there was nothing specific that had caused any kind of problem, at least nothing that had filtered down to the secretarial level. Abby knew of no fractious relations with any of the faculty members. Bisbee High School students, as a group, had performed well on their standardized tests, scoring several points better than they had a year earlier. Debra’s relationships with the school board and the district office were fine …
Abigail Holder abruptly stopped speaking as a thoughtful but telltale frown flitted across her face.
“What?” Joanna prodded.
“Well, there was that one situation with the board.”
“What situation was that?”
“Ms. Highsmith suspended a student, and the board made her back off.”
“Would the student in question happen to be Marty Pembroke?” Joanna asked.
“Why, yes,” Abby said, blinking in surprise. “That’s the one. How did you know?”
“Word gets around,” Joanna said, answering Abby’s question in a fashion that was only one small step short of a terse “no comment.”
“Although,” she added, after a pause, “I don’t think I remember seeing anything about it in the
Bisbee Bee
.”
“That’s right,” Abby said. “Most of the discussions were conducted behind closed doors because the student involved is still a juvenile. The only thing that was made public was that the terms of a suspension had been adjusted so that schoolwork and exams could be made up after the fact. When Ms. Highsmith came to work the next morning, she was absolutely livid. In all the years we worked together, I never saw her as upset as she was that day until a couple of days later.”
“She was more upset later? Why? What happened then?”
“Even though the paper didn’t publish anything on the subject, that didn’t stop the kid from going public. I haven’t seen it, but I’ve been told Marty wrote a blog entry about it and posted the whole story on his Facebook page, complete with an utterly despicable
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