A year, she was thinking. I wonder where she is and if she is still alive. I must find out
She talked on, automatically saying all the things her audience expected to hear. “I gladly accept this tribute not for myself, but for all those who have worked so hard to lighten the burden of those who are less fortunate than we are…”
Her mind was drifting back forty-two years to Gary, Indiana…
At eighteen, Ellen Dudash was employed at the Scott Industries automotive-parts plant in Gary, Indiana. She was an attractive, outgoing girl, popular with her fellow workers. On the day Milo Scott came to inspect the plant, Ellen was selected to escort him around.
“Hey! How about you, Ellie? Maybe you’ll marry the boss’s brother and we’ll all be working for you.”
Ellen Dudash laughed. “Right. And that’s when pigs will grow wings.”
Milo Scott was not at all what Ellen had expected. He was in his early thirties, tall and slim. Not bad-looking, Ellen thought. He was shy and almost deferential.
“It’s very kind of you to take the time to show me around, Miss Dudash. I hope I’m not taking you away from your work.”
She grinned. “I hope you are.”
He was so easy to talk to.
I can’t believe I’m kidding around with the big boss’s brother. Wait till I tell Mom and Pop about this.
Milo seemed genuinely interested in the workers and their problems. Ellen took him through the department where the round drive gears and the long driven gears were made. She showed him through the annealing room, where the soft gears were put through a hardening process, and the packing section and the shipping department, and he seemed properly impressed.
“It’s certainly a large operation, isn’t it, Miss Dudash?”
He owns all of this, and he acts like an awed kid I guess it takes all kinds.
It was in the assembly section that the accident happened. An overhead cable car carrying metal bars to the machine shop snapped and a load of iron came tumbling down. Milo Scott was directly beneath it. Ellen saw it coming a fraction of a second before it hit and, without thinking, shoved him out of harm’s way. Two of the heavy iron bars hit her before she could escape, and she was knocked unconscious.
She awakened in a private suite in a hospital. The room was literally filled with flowers. When Ellen opened her eyes and looked around, she thought: I’ve died and gone to heaven.
There were orchids and roses and lilies and chrysanthemums and rare blooms she could not even begin to identify.
Her right arm was in a cast and her ribs were taped and felt bruised.
A nurse came in. “Ah, you’re awake, Miss Dudash. I’ll inform the doctor.”
“Where—where am I?”
“Blake Center—it’s a private hospital.”
Ellen looked around the large suite. I can never afford to pay for all this.
“We’ve been screening your calls.”
“What calls?”
“The press has been trying to get in to interview you. Your friends have been calling. Mr. Scott has telephoned several times…”
Milo Scott! “Is he all right?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Was he hurt in the accident?”
“No. He was here again early this morning, but you were asleep.”
“He came to see me?”
“Yes.” She looked around the room. “Most of these flowers are from him.”
Unbelievable.
“Your mother and father are in the waiting room. Do you feel up to seeing them now?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll send them in.”
Boy, I’ve never been treated like this in a hospital before, Ellen thought.
Her mother and father walked in and came up to the bed. They had been born in Poland and their English was tentative. Ellen’s father was a mechanic, a burly, rough-hewn man in his fifties, and her mother was a bluff northern European peasant.
“I brought you some soup, Ellen.”
“Mom—they feed people in hospitals.”
“Not my soup they don’t feed you in the hospital. Eat it and you’ll get well faster.”
Her father said, “Did you see the paper? I brung you a copy.”
He handed the newspaper to her. The headline read: FACTORY WORKER RISKS LIFE TO SAVE BOSS.