For the Damned No Glory

Joel J. Chery

Description

Henry Wiseman’s life has been a continuous saga, marked by turbulence and the intrusion of violence and terror. As a child, Henry experienced racism and prejudice firsthand, growing up under the specter of apartheid in segregated South Africa. As a young man, he engaged in a personal crusade to bring about changes in his homeland, and consequently achieved one of the greatest successes of his life, all during his first year as a freshman at Northwestern University, in Evanston, Illinois.

Henry later met this beautiful young Jewish woman, Eva Meir, with whom he fell madly in love. They complemented one another’s life, as they committed to each other in marriage and began a family of their own.

Henry became an active member of his community and would eventually lead a moderate-size congregation in Evanston, as the pastor of the Second John the Baptist Church of Evanston.

In his capacity as a religious leader, Henry found himself drawn into the path of a serial killer who descended on Evanston and unleashed a campaign of terror that led to the kidnapping of two young girls from Henry’s congregation. Henry would eventually offer himself as a hostage and manage to persuade the killer to surrender to the authorities.

With time, Henry was able to make good on a promise to his wife to take her on a dream vacation to South Africa and Israel. They were in Israel for only a few days, exploring the wonders of this majestic land, when suddenly they found themselves trapped on a hillside road overlooking the West Bank, as a group of Palestinian terrorists on a mission of vengeance against Israel exploded a deadly biochemical bomb some two hundred yards away from where they stood.

Sujets

• Fiction
• Mystery
• Detective

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 26 février 2002
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780759690158
• Langue: English

Extrait

For the Damned No Glory
Caught in the Midst of Terror
 
 
 
 
 
Joel J. Chery
 
 
 
 
© 2002 by Joel J. Chery. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
 
ISBN: 978-0-7596-9016-5 (sc)
ISBN: 978-0-7596-9015-8 (e)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
1stBooks - rev. 11/11/2022
LIST OF CONTENTS
A message from the author
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
1. Our friends, the Wisemans
2. Henry Wiseman: a humble beginning
3. Henry’s rendezvous with destiny
Chapter Two
1. About Eva Meir
2. A match made in heaven
3. Michelle’s Graduation party
4. Henry and Eva’s dream vacation…a reality at last?
Chapter Three
1. Another preparation taking place half a world away
2. Israel: The birth of a nation
3. A buildup of tensions reminiscent of the pre-Six-Day-War period
4. What happened on December 13, 1992
5. Who is Jeff Kain?
Chapter Four
1. A killer in their midst
2. Who, in fact, is Madame Kozlowski?
3. Madame and the FBI
Chapter Five
1. The Nelson girls are missing
Chapter Six
1. The post crisis days and the Wisemans
2. Michelle’s wedding
Chapter Seven
1. A terrible mistake by the Israeli government
2. The making of a terrorist
Chapter Eight
1. The Wisemans in South Africa
2. The Wisemans in Tanzania
3. An emotional journey
4. As danger looms
5. Back in South Africa
Chapter Nine
1. Goodbye South Africa, hello Israel
2. A great welcome to Israel
3. What makes Jerusalem so different?
4. On a collision course with disaster
5. What happened the night before in the West Bank?
6. Examining the impact
7. All hell broke loose
About The Author
A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR
Although some of the scenes depicted in this work of fiction bear a striking resemblance to the World Trade Center tragedy, the book is not at all about that unfortunate event, which has affected all our lives in such a profound way.
The book was completed some ten months before that incident took place, and at the time of that tragic event, I was in the process of deciding on its publication.
What happened on September 11, 2001, shocked our collective conscience, awoke us from the comfort of our eagerness to trust and forced us, as a people, to finally take a serious look at this ugly side of the human species that we, for so long, refused to accept as real.
Personally, I believed this to be a plot that the most gifted and creative of fiction writers would probably not want to take credit for having written; If for no other reason, it would be in bad taste and unintentionally detrimental.
Unfortunately, it was not fiction; it was not imagination at work. The pain, the loss, the suffering, the hurt was all too real, much too tangible. This, in fact, was the crude reality of a dangerously changing and uncertain world.
I would like to express my heartfelt love and respect for the victims of that horrifying tragedy; I dedicate this book to their memories.
To the families of the departed ones, I say, take courage; your loved ones will continue to live in our hearts and in our fond memories.
To those courageous rescue workers, the New York City Police Department, the New York firefighters, some of whom literally gave their lives so that a victim could have a chance at life, I say: May the Lord bless and keep you. God bless America!!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This first novel is dedicated to the memory of my father, Alexandre Chery; a wonderful man, who had led me from birth on to the discovery of the greatest love there is: the love of God.
It is a tribute to my loving and courageous mother, Veturie Jean-Louis Chery, who has taught me by example the value of loving and caring for others
This novel is especially dedicated to my loving wife Dolores, my sons Mark, Daniel, Allen, and my beautiful daughter, Elizabeth, my grandchildren Kayden, Kaylie, Khloe, Faith, Hope, Payton, Camden, Easton, Brianna, Lincoln, Jayden and Janiyah.
It is also a dedication to the memory of my brother Lionel Chery, and that of my beloved sister Jocelyn Chery, who left us way too soon. It is a special dedication to my brothers Pierrot and David, my sisters, Vitania and Carmele Valcin.
I could not end without bringing to light the meaning in my life of, and my appreciation for, my cousins Roselyn Polycarpe, Riteau Jean-louis, Myrlande Antoine, Jeff, Garfalane, Kermine, Ricky, Nadine, Sadrac, Tezin, Kathiana, Eliane, Marise, Violette; my nieces and nephews Steve, Jimmy, David, Al, Natalie, Cassandra Ingride, Sheyna, Ricardo, Melisssa, Alexandra, Kathia, Dave, Teddy, my in-laws, Jesula, Marie, Herve, Camelo, Jacques, Mario, Amy, Teffanie, Stacey, Ashley ; my friends Yanick, Harold, Linda, Monique, Immacula Dieudonne, Raphael and Jacqueline Reme, Rony and Suze Joseph, Yolande Tibere, Patricia Martinez, Marilyn Leroy, Evelyn Plummer, to name but a few. I love you all.
PROLOGUE
Henry Wiseman’s life has been a continuous saga, marked by turbulence and the intrusion of violence and terror. As a child, Henry experienced racism and prejudice firsthand, growing up under the specter of apartheid in segregated South Africa. As a young man, he engaged in a personal crusade to bring about changes in his homeland, and consequently achieved one of the greatest successes of his life, all during his first year as a freshman at Northwestern University, in Evanston, Illinois.
Henry later met this beautiful young Jewish woman, Eva Meir, with whom he fell madly in love. They complemented one another’s life, as they committed to each other in marriage and began a family of their own.
Henry became an active member of his community and would eventually lead a moderate-size congregation in Evanston, as the pastor of the Second John the Baptist Church of Evanston.
In his capacity of a religious leader, Henry found himself drawn into the path of a serial killer who descended on Evanston and unleashed a campaign of terror that led to the kidnapping of two young girls from Henry’s congregation. Henry would eventually offer himself as a hostage and managed to persuade the killer to surrender to the authorities.
With time, Henry was able to make good on a promise to his wife to take her on a dream vacation to South Africa and Israel. They were in Israel for only a few days, exploring the wonders of this majestic land, when suddenly they found themselves trapped on a hillside road overlooking the West Bank, as a group of Palestinian terrorists on a mission of vengeance against Israel exploded a deadly biochemical bomb some two hundred yards away from where they stood.
CHAPTER ONE
Our friends, the Wisemans
I’d been standing here in the bedroom for just about fifteen minutes now, staring at the two dresses that I had laid down on the bed, trying to decide which one I should wear to dinner with Richard tonight. Don’t get me wrong, it was not that simple to start with. I finally managed after two and a half hours to narrow the choice down to this black dress with golden trim and the beige one that I have not worn for over six weeks now. In my case, that’s progress.
Most men don’t really understand this ritualistic exercise we women go through each time we have to step foot outside of our doors, and we don’t really expect them to. That’s just the way it is.
I had been so caught up in my own world that I failed to realize what time it was. Then suddenly the dreadful coo-coo clock went off, reminding me that it was five o’clock. Sometimes I really hate that clock. One of these days I would gather enough courage to take it off the wall, pack it and just drop it off at the nearest Salvation Army station. I’d been saying that for the longest time and likely I would never do it…Honestly, I thought this old clock and I had a love-hate relationship. One minute I wanted to get rid of it, the next, I couldn’t wait to hear it go coo-coo.
Now that I thought about it, I believed that I was emotionally attached to that lousy thing. It’s probably because that was the very last thing my dad gave me before his accident.
Just for thinking that way, I felt that I must walk over to it and apologize for being so unappreciative. Perhaps I’d take it down and give it a big hug; that should make everything all right.
Silly me, I thought. I took a few steps toward the living room, just to glimpse at the clock, out of respect for the memory of my father. Then I realized that it was 5:14 P.M; that’s not good. The thing is, for two straight days now Richie and I have been planning and trying to have dinner together at the new French restaurant in town. For some strange reasons, each of those two days, at precisely five-fifteen, the phone would ring, and it would be Richard calling to apologize for not being able to make it. He would then ask for a rain check, and I, being the considerate wife that I am, would say, “O.K. Hon, we’ll go tomorrow,” and that would settle it. I took pity on him because I knew how hard he’s been working on that project at work, which deadline now was fast approaching. But tonight, I was not in the mood to be messed with. I didn’t want to be considerate, or compassionate. I just wanted to get out of that house, and I didn’t need to hear any excuses. For once I wished the clock could skip a bit and go directly from 5:14 to 5:16. That way, there would be no five-fifteen, there would be no phone call from Richie asking for my understanding, and at last we would be able to go ahead with our plan and keep our