28 Days in the Coke Works

I guess the best place to start is the beginning.  In this book I hope to relay to you the story of the four of us, what we went through due to no fault of our own, and as outlandish as it may sound, prove that it is happening every day and that it could really happen to you.

My name is Jason Marsh.  I am an established bridge engineer for a major bridge building company in Chicago named; Eastwood, Rawlins, and Wayne.  Being 38 years old, I am one of the youngest vice presidents and youngest lead engineers in the history of this 100+ year old company.  I earned my Mechanical Engineering degree through Purdue University, and had interned at a couple of steel bridge component manufacturing firms before being offered an engineering position with my current company.  I won’t bore you any longer by blowing my own horn.  The real story here has nothing much to do with bridges or engineering anyway.

My buddy and I learned our task very quickly.  We watched another pair of buddies pick the leaves, fill a basket with them, then carry the basket over to one of the farm trailers hooked to the back of a tractor, get an empty basket, return to where we were picking, and do it all again.  On the trailer were water coolers.  We were permitted to stop and get a drink, but if you loitered too long you got cracked with a short whip.  Talking was also still prohibited, which also got me a crack with the whip.  I saw Mark and his buddy a couple of rows over.  I made eye contact with him.  He was scared, and he was pissed, I could tell.  I pulled on my buddy to move over a row.  Mark did the same.  For Mark it was easy, he outweighed his buddy by 100 pounds.  Mine was about my size, so it was a tug of war any time we each tried to go in another direction. We spent over an hour trying to get into a position close enough to whisper to each other.  “Macy is ok. We need to get to the clinic tomorrow, somehow.” I said then put a rows distance between us for the next hour.  When Mark had his back to me, I could tell it had taken a couple of whip smacks also.  He had a few places where blood had soaked through the back of his shirt.  The next time we got close, I whispered to him again. “Follow my lead.” Then we parted for another hour.  I watched for a moment of opportunity, and it came.  The tractor driver climbed down, and appeared to be heading to the side of the path to urinate.  I tugged on my buddy and pointed to the trailer.  Mark saw my move and did the same.  We put our baskets in the trailer and got empty ones.  On our way to get water, I said. “We can’t let anyone know that we know each other, and the girls can’t let anyone know they are sisters.  We have to get out of here, but we will have to have a plan. These people are organized. Try to get in line together tonight so we end up in adjoining cages.”  That was about all I was comfortable trying to say. I did not wish to raise suspicion.  We spent the rest of the day a comfortable distance apart.  I estimate it was a 14 hour work day.  We formed up and walked back to the compound.