Having been out of work for over a year now I was becoming a little frantic. I did everything I had been advised to do by all of the organizations out there attempting to help stem the joblessness in our economy. I joined self-help groups, resume writing seminars, you name it. No one was hiring a city planner right now or in the near future. The ones who already had jobs were not leaving unless they had another a job in hand. The ones without were in the same boat that I was in.
It seemed to be a true blessing when I found a letter in my mailbox from a headhunting company that I had been in touch with. It was a firm offer to come to a town in the middle of the state of Kansas and apply to fill the position of city planner. It seems the town had been established by a man of great means to house his own labor force and all the people needed to give them the services they needed. I had never heard of such a thing.
One strange condition they stated was that one must have experience on the stage. It wasn't specific but I had been in several plays during college. I hadn't majored in the theater but I had a minor in English and had studied lots of theatrical plays. I hoped this would suffice. I really needed this job.
Now, I had heard of company towns, but they had gone out decades ago. This was an oddity indeed. A whole town founded by one multimillionaire just to produce his products and keep his labor force happy and well taken care of. I jumped at the offer. It was for all expenses in the town including a free place to live and all the other necessaries one would need to live happily. There was an extra stipend of several thousand dollars each year that one could just bank if one wished.
Another suspicious and rather astonishing thing I discovered was that the only way into the town was on the Amtrak. It made one stop per week just for the folks in this town early on Saturdays. It dropped off new arrivals to the growing population. I was one of them on a bright morning in June. Apparently another freight line picked up the products being manufactured and dropped off materials needed for the work done in the town's only factory.
As I dismounted from the train, with the help of a porter, I noted at the top of a hill above the town what appeared to be an open air theater. It must be used to put on plays during the warmer days of spring and summer. I was greeted by a gentleman clothed in a summer suit and a somber manner. He shook my hand with his left hand. His right hand had been lost somehow. He introduced himself as John Jennings, and I reminded him of my name, Peter Low. I didn't find it too strange that he was one-handed. I had grown up in a rural area and had sometimes seen such things due to accidents with farming implements.
He was gracious enough to take me to the hotel in a little electric car that seemed to represent the transportation means in the town. They were supplemented by a trolley system running on the few surface roads. While we slowly passed through town I noted several more handicapped persons on the streets. Some were limping and using canes while others had full head coverings or carried themselves as if they had lost parts of their bodies. It was strange, but perhaps the owner, Mr. Kocker, had hired people with handicaps as a philanthropic gesture.
As we were driving John pointed out the main features of the town. It had, in addition to the open-air theater, a downtown Opera House. It was very retro. I liked it. I liked the look of the whole town and was eager to begin my duties and perhaps put my own stamp on the city planning. Apparently I would be helping in the expansion of the town now that it had been established. John told me that I would not be starting work until I had seen some plays put on by the townsfolk during the coming week as well as the usual things one did upon being selected for employment.
This was another strange thing. What in the world did plays have to do with my work or this town itself? But, when I questioned John he waved it off, with his one hand, as an eccentricity of Mr. Kocker. It seems that the owner and patron was a great lover of Shakespeare, and all the townsfolk were required to see a certain number of plays each month or lose their jobs. I found a marvelous clue as to his devotion in the lobby of the hotel.
There, dislayed for all to see, was what was lableled as a First Folio of Shakespeare's works. I was rather astonished to see it right there in this rather small town in the middle of the Kansas prairie. I was certainly no expert but I happened to know that only some seven hundred or so copies of the Folio had been made in 1623. At present a little over two hundred were still in existence. I thought only one of them was in private hands. The rest were in institutions. I had seen the collection of eighty-two at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington.
The book was worth millions of dollars. This Mr. Kocker was truly wealthy, it would seem. That fit in with some of the research I had done on him. According to the article I read in Time magazine he was noted for being philanthropic. His family had experienced some unfortunate bad luck, though. It was rumored that more than one of his siblings had been institutionalized. The reasons had been kept secret from even the most hard working journalists. And so he kept making more money and his business had thrived for decades now.
I would be staying at the hotel until a house was ready for me. Not a problem, of course. The desk clerk limped up to the counter and checked me in. He did not smile. The porter who carried my luggage up to my room also had a limp. He was using both hands to carry my baggage. He refused a tip. He did not smile either.
I had been informed that I could eat at any restaurant in town for free. Just give my room number at the one hotel. So I went out to lunch and passed so many limping folks, or people just walking oddly with unusual postures. I arrived at a restaurant I had seen coming in and was seated immediately by a dour waitress. As I sat she leaned forward to place the menu and I could not help but see that one breast seemed to be missing. That was a pity for her but not too odd. Women did have breast cancer. She refused my tip at the end of the meal with a stoic look.
After lunch I decided to simply walk around the town and get a feel for it. You know what I mean. Take in the atmosphere, the ambience. What a strange place it was. I had yet to see anyone completely whole. I sat down on a bench in the park.
"Afternoon. New around here?" It was an older gentleman, a stranger. Of course, pretty much everyone was a stranger to me.
"Yes, yes I am. For the moment. I'm supposed to be applying for a job."
"Supposed to be? Having doubts, my friend.?" He smiled at me. The first smile I'd seen.
"Yes, I must say I am. Just a feeling, you know. Not sure I fit in here," I responded.
"Well, young fellow, you look like you'd fit in for sure.