Seventeen

From the 1908 Yearbook

Seventeen

Jennie shifted in the pew to find Victor Hornback smiling down at her. How can this be? Did I think his presence into existence? Or am I having a vision that refuses to let me go? Or…

“Oh, I’m sorry. I have intruded upon your privacy. Please accept my apologies.”

“That is unnecessary, Mr. Hornback. I just… well, it took me a moment to say… well, please, yes. Do join me.”

Mr. Victor Hornback squeezed himself into the crowded space between Jennie and a gentleman neither seemed to know.

Earlier, Victor saw Jennie and her aunt from the moment they arrived. His eyes followed her and, wrapped in thought, he gazed as she eventually arose and took a seat with her fellow students. He noticed how—though she waved at a friend several rows away—she took a seat removed from anyone she acknowledged with a nod.

He thought she seemed lonely and yet… proud.

Well, she has every right to be, he thought. Understandably lonely, deservedly proud.

CHS,
Junior Class of 1908
Jennie in Center

Victor felt a pang of guilt. Jennie was new to the Chillicothe high school years back, when she joined those who had grown up together. Everyone was polite to her. But no one really approached her. There were whisperings about her father, and about her stepmother. They said he was a poor, itinerant laborer, and she was… questionable.

Once, he told his mother about the new girl, Jennie, and was surprised his mother knew the family.

“Oh yes, the girl’s grandmother, Mrs. Gardner, used to be very active in her church. The heads of

Unidentified Photo 
from Jennie's album
Probably Emaline
Denning Gardner,
her grandmother

committees from each Methodist church in Linn County and Livingston County get together once a year. I got to know Mrs. Gardner that way. A fine lady. I have also met Miss Ella Stark, no relation to Mrs. Gardner except through marriage. Of course, they all go to the same Church in Laclede.”

Victor was curious, for it seemed that Jennie’s family might have a better reputation than he first thought.

“Interesting, Mother.”

“Yes, well, one year, back in ’96 or ’97, when consumption was wiping out many a fine citizen, her young daughter—Miss Jennie’s mother—died of the horrible condition. Then she herself was confined to her home a very long time, extremely ill. She has since mostly recovered but remains at home. Very striking woman, even after being ravaged with illness, I’m told. True beauty is rarely destroyed.”

“Mother, I wonder, then, about Miss Jennie Stark’s circumstances after her mother’s death. She would have been several years younger than I was when we lost Father. How did the family manage?”

His mother took a while before answering.

“Well, son, I suppose it is appropriate for me to say that the Stark grandparents took the young children under their wing, and there they thrived. I am rather surprised, however, to learn they are now here in Chillicothe. I did not have the impression the children ever lived elsewhere—with their father—but is that what they are doing now? Or did the grandparents retire from their farm and come here?”

“I believe they are here with their father. Down in shantytown.”

“Oh my. That’s a shame…”

The Baccalaureate services were nearly over before Victor began paying attention. He looked over at Jennie who had a smirk on her face.

“Enjoy your nap?” Jennie whispered.

“Oh… I was… meditating on some of the things they were saying,” Victor responded a little more loudly, for music had begun. A hymn.

“Such as…?”

There was no point in pretending further.

“Jennie… Miss Stark… I am so very sorry. Guess I did not sleep well last night.”

CHS Track 1907
Victor Hornback far right

Jennie returned to her hymnal, singing alto and harmonizing. He was familiar with her voice from church, both in Chillicothe and in Columbia, though he had never sat immediately next to her before. His baritone rang out, and Jennie thought she never had heard such magnificence before. Though his voice was familiar, today there was another quality to it.

The services ended, and Victor guided Jennie to where he had seen her with her aunt. On the way, Jennie inquired of his mother, and he told her she would not be in town. Though she often traveled, she always was accompanied by those she knew and no one could be co-opted to venture to Columbia. Furthermore, he could not find any available accommodation for her.

“Aunt Ella, this is Mr. Victor Hornback. I have known him since when he was shorter than me, his voice squeaky, and his ears sticking out.”

“Oh, I am delighted to see some things have changed, Mr. Hornback. No more squeaky voice. Pleasure meeting you.”

It took all of Ella’s considerable self-control to not mention anything about seeing him in Jennie’s picture collection. But viewing him in the flesh, next to her niece, confirmed her earlier suspicions about a certain fondness.

Aunt Ella gazed up at the gentleman with a smile broad enough that Victor began wondering if she held some secret about him. A good secret, he guessed, because she gushed about the services and peppered him with questions about his education, his plans, and his mother whom she once met.

Jennie’s thoughts flew heavenward. Eerie. So many things are happening now that I thought about earlier. But… thank you, Lord.

“Hey, old man. Let’s go get out of these robes. It is hot!”

Livingston County Club
University of Missouri 1908
Jennie upper right, possibly
feeling invisible

Clyde Deardorff clasped his hand on Victor’s shoulder. The two were friends since childhood. Where one was, the other often was as well, although Clyde was not an athlete.

“Miss Stark…” Clyde took a moment to nod. He tugged at Victor’s sleeve.

I always have been invisible to them, Jennie thought.

She noticed Victor’s impatience, even annoyance, before he nodded and excused himself. The two departed, Victor glancing over his shoulder at Jennie. She thought she saw an expression of apology. But Clyde had not even acknowledged her aunt’s presence, nor did he have the manners to await a proper introduction.

Well Lord, I thank you for the lovely interlude, if even for a few short moments.