With everything going on, it’s my number one priority to find Charlie. It would be so much easier to know what happened at the end of their story, but Grams doesn’t seem like she’s about to speak a word of it no matter how many times I ask. I wonder what she is so afraid to tellme.
“Okay, well, we’ll be with her if you need anything,” Annie says. The two of them look like the world is sitting on their shoulders, and I wish I could take some of their stress away, but I’m scared to say too much. I feel guilty about keeping this secret from them as it is. After all, they are her daughters, and they have even more of a right to know than Ido.
For a reason I don’t understand, I feel like Grams is passing the torch to me, and that I will have to keep and protect her secret after she’s gone. However, if I’m able to find Charlie, I may be relieved of that burden since I think it would offer Grams the strength to tell all of us the truth. Charlie is the other half of her story. She needs him so she can reveal whatever these secrets are, and finally befree.
On the fifth page of my search, my focus locks on the headline: “Charlie Crane, former German soldier with an untold story of love and war, interviewed on NBC NewYork.”
A cool wave of sweat beads up on my forehead as I click the link.Please, let this be him. I scour the page for a date first, finding that the interview is from four years ago.Oh my gosh, this could be Grams’sCharlie.
I scroll down a bit, finding the subtitle to be:Seventy Years: The Personal Aftermath of World WarII.
A still picture of Charlie stares back at me, and I wish Grams had a picture of him so I could find the similarities. In the picture, the man has a full head of white hair, perfectly combed to one side. His eyes are a watery light blue, and his face is lined with many small wrinkles, each one likely telling a story of his life. I zoom in on my screen to get a better look, and I notice what looks like faint scars lining both sides of his face. I remember Grams mentioning the way his face looked when he returned from war. The scars don’t look as bad as what Grams described, but seventy years of aging would likely soften scars such asthose.
I hold my breath as I click play, but at the same time, Jackson walks in. “How are you doing?” I click pause. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you all right?” He lets the door close behind him, and takes the seat next to me. “Emma?”
“I think I may have foundCharlie.”
He peeks over at my screen. “Charlie Crane, is that his fullname?”
“Yes.”
“Seventy Years: The Personal Aftermath of World War II.Maybe itishim. Clickplay,” hesays.
I hit the button again, feeling my heart skip a beat as it takes a moment for the feed toload.
Today, we have with us, Charlie Crane, an eighty-nine-year-old gentleman who has lived in Staten Island for the past sixty years. Charlie is one of the most well-known and adored residents of his neighborhood. After hearing bits and pieces of his story from his neighbors and friends, we reached out to Charlie with hope that he might share a part of his story and his past with us. We were quite honored when he agreed to do so. Charlie is a veteran of World War II and has a story that most of us can’t fathom. We’re incredibly grateful and humbled to introduce to you…CharlieCrane.
The video zooms out,showing not only the interviewer but the man in a chair across from her, aswell.
A smile is etched unevenly across the man’s face as if he were unsure and nervous to be sitting through the interview. He’s dressed in a crisp-looking pair of gray slacks and a starched white shirt that’s neatly tucked into his pants. A man of his age must care a lot about his image to be so neatly dressed, but it’sadmirable.
“Charlie, thank you so much for being here today,”the interviewersays.
“Thank you for having me,”Charlieresponds.
This man has two arms, which makes my shoulders slump with disappointment. Charlie was left with one arm. “It’s not him,” I tellJackson.
“Why do you say that?” heasks.
“He has twoarms.”
“Just hold on for a minute. Let’s keepwatching.”
“Now, Charlie, we’ve heard from some of your friends and neighbors that you have quite the story about how you ended up here in the United States. We’d love to hear more,”sheencourages.
Charlie straightens his posture in the chair with a sense of discomfort before he begins tospeak.
“Certainly, of course. I may sound like a foolish man, but—well, it was all forlove.”
The interviewer purses her lips with curiosity and tilts her head to theside.
“Hmm. So, you’re saying it wasn’t for a chance at a better life, which is why so many people emigrated here during thattime?”
Charlie shakes his head a bit, lifts his right hand from his lap, and scratches at his chin before relaxing back into thechair.
“For me, a better life was only about the love I had for one woman,”hesays.
“And did you end up finding this woman?”The interviewerasks.
