Chapter 26 - MARTIN'S LAST JOURNAL
Nearly an hour passed before Richard pulled into a small roadside motel far from the main highway.
It wasn't luxurious.
That was exactly why Samuel chose it.
The owner recognized Samuel from television but asked no unnecessary questions after being politely requested to respect their privacy.
Inside one of the rooms, Helen carefully placed the leather journal onto the table.
Daniel immediately recognized it.
"My father carried this."
Helen nodded.
"He never let it leave his desk."
Unlike the engineering notebooks from the warehouse, this journal contained no technical drawings.
Instead, every page described people.
Martin had written about apprentices learning their trade.
Machinists who stayed late to help younger workers.
Engineers who admitted mistakes instead of hiding them.
Supervisors who insisted that every employee, regardless of position, deserved respect.
Samuel quietly turned several pages.
"He wasn't writing about machines."
Helen smiled.
"He believed companies were built by character before they were built by products."
Daniel continued reading.
One entry caught his attention.
> Today Edward apologized to the youngest apprentice for speaking impatiently. That apology earned more respect than a hundred speeches ever could.
Ryan looked thoughtful.
"I've never seen a work journal like this."
Richard answered,
"Because most people record results."
"Martin recorded values."
Toward the back of the journal, Daniel discovered a folded sheet tucked between two pages.
The handwriting was unmistakably his father's.
It wasn't a diary entry.
It was a list.
At the top, Martin had written:
People I Trust Without Question
Only seven names appeared.
Edward Reeves.
Helen Mercer.
Richard Lawson.
Thomas Avery.
Eleanor Briggs.
Father Michael Donnelly.
...
The seventh name had faded so badly that only a few letters remained visible.
Daniel frowned.
"I can't read it."
Helen leaned closer.
"The ink has almost disappeared."
Richard examined the page under brighter light.
"It starts with an 'A.'"
Samuel looked at the worn paper.
"If your father trusted these people absolutely..."
"...perhaps each of them was protecting a different piece of the story."
No one replied.
Because they were all thinking the same thing.
If even some of those names could still be found...
May you like
The history Martin Cross had tried so carefully to preserve might finally be reconstructed—not from a single document, but from the memories and records of the people who had lived it.
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