No You Didn't

Seven: The Story

 It started like any other day, just as all tragedies did.

We were the perfect family, it seemed. Clay was the son of Earl and Mary Ellen, after all, who were both well-respected figures in Ida Creek.

He made good grades in school. He was a star baseball player (the Ida Creek Falcons had even gone to Nationals while Clay was the pitcher).

After Clay graduated, everyone expected him to go off to college. He had the charm to be whatever he wanted and the brains to boot.

The whole town was left speechless when he married Jenny Higgins–a city girl. From Chicago, no less.

She arrived in high heels and one of those miniskirts that only the Beatles-worshippers of the 60's donned. Her hair was blonde in that it came from a bottle and she had no idea that "bless your heart" hardly ever meant just that.

Although all odds were against her, the town couldn't resist her for long.

She was quick to learn the ways of the people. She held to their traditions as her own. She respected their superstitions.

She was a humble woman, which counteracted her naivety.

On Clay and Jenny's wedding day, it rained. Everyone said it was a sign of good luck.

When she became pregnant with her first child, people far and wide came to Jenny Montgomery's baby shower.

Meanwhile, Clay worked at Dad's clock shop producing some of the best woodwork in North Carolina, second only to Dad, who specialized in carving soft woods.

Clay and Jenny nestled into their small, meaningful lives just as anyone else did. They had their friends, their family, their church, and their activities.

Once the other two children came along, they'd go have picnics up in the mountains. Lily and Colleen would swing from a rope and jump into the lake while Jenny prepared lunch and Clay took care of the baby.

After Henry was born, however, Jenny was overcome with fatigue. She took tonics and tinctures to give her more energy, but some days she could only sit in her rocking chair and hope the kids weren't getting into too much trouble.

Some said she was depressed after having her last child, but she insisted it wasn't so to every doctor they visited.

She'd tell them, "I just think I need a little more rest."

It wasn't until she started going to Dr. Hathaway that she started getting slightly better, but some days she would randomly slip back into illness.

Clay came alongside his wife, who was now considered by many to be "sickly", to help with the children, make them lunch before school, and change diapers.

It was Sunday on September 25th, 1968 when the Montgomery children went off to church and never came back.

There was the usual Sunday bustle of getting the kids ready–hair brushed, hands washed, little outfits ironed out.

It was always a madhouse to rush out the door and be in their pews by 9am, but somehow Clay and Jenny made it happen every week.

Clay dropped off Lily, Colleen, Earl Jr., and Henry off at their Sunday school, where some of the nursery workers would play with the babies while the teachers taught about David and Goliath.

Clay and Jenny had been settled in their pew next to us for half an hour before one of the Sunday school teachers came rushing in.

Her steps were urgent, but everyone merely glanced at her before returning their attention to the sermon.