City Council-Warhavenjpegmap.jpg

Illustrious, industrious, chivalrous Philander Jones, Warhaven city councilor, mayor, chair of scores of committees, sits at his roll top desk in his wheeled chair, fumbling, an ever-increasing tremor in his right hand. He stares at the legal document before him, a codicil or appendix, he doesn’t remember now, a document which comes in and out of focus for him. It is the morning of April 12, 1927, and the Major League Baseball season would begin that afternoon. The sun has risen on the window of his office in his fine home on the lower West Hills. Hand twitches, spasming; the papers fall, a codicil to his will stablishing the Jones Fund, managed by a standing committee under the Board of Trustees of the Congregational Church, providing a source of legal fees for women in danger and/or in need.

He muses, “Time flies as the aero plane! It soars. New inventions, increasingly more complex intentions, and yet savage. A practical tool yet again becomes an accomplice of the Great War Machine!” He sighs, continuing his thought, “On the brink of expiration, like a long-opened bottle of champagne, I have simply lost my fizz. The apocryphal day approaches.”