Posted onJuly 14, 2026 by Dave Maki
“So, what Mags. Bobby is a lot of fun, which I must confess I haven’t had a lot lately.
She clucked loudly to display her hen-like displeasure. He caught it and quietly walked out the front door. A gray sedan was parked in front as his favorite FBI agent was reading the paper. That was enough to have him turn around and walk back in the house, even with the scowling Mag standing there.
“Forgot my keys,” he lied.
Jim walked over to the non-descript Ford and leaned into the open passenger window.
“Agent…I forgot your name.”
“Never gave it Mr. Nelson. Its Briggs. Agent Briggs.”
Not wanting to discuss anything further, Jim started walking to his car. Over his shoulder he looked and saw Briggs following him. He stopped and turned around.
“So sorry Mr. Nelson. I would strongly suggest putting off your rendezvous with Mr. Douglas. The bureau considers him to be a security risk.’
A chill ran through Jim as the sentence marinated in his consciousness.
“The bureau considers Mr. Douglas a security risk.”
Nelson chuckled since agent Briggs wasn’t straying from his script.
“How do you know where I am going Briggs?”
“Well, you really don’t have that many friends. Carolyn Brown is at a tennis court, so my process of elimination leaves only Mr. Douglass.
He felt a wave of anger knotting up his stomach while considering the willful disregard the FBI was having on his freedom of movement.
Jim looked hard at the agent behind the sunglasses and flipped him off. If it wasn’t his dad, Carolyn and Mags-now with agent Briggs joining the cause celeb, it was enough for him to disobey orders.
Driving out of the driveway, he adjusted his rear-view mirror to see Brigg’s. Sure enough, he was behind him. Jim slammed on the brakes and jumped out of his car. He ran to the Ford as another car screeched across the street to a stop. A man in a black suit threw his door open and his handgun was trained on the agent’s car. Jim, being good at seeing unusual behavior, stopped in his tracks.
“Mr. Nelson, please do not approach the car!”
At this moment, that was the last thing he planned on doing. Then out of the blue, Carolyn’s car pulled up next to him.
So here Jim Nelson stood, a man not given to making rash decisions, had three choices to make. FBI-allegedly; strange man in black suit aiming a .38 at the FBI-allegedly; and Carolyn Brown-who in his infinite wisdom, appeared at this moment to be even more unbelievable than the other two.
“Jim! I am serious! Your life is in danger!”
Whatever fear that he had moments ago, was now gone. He saw Carolyn yelling, but his brain shut off her voice. This was the first time in Jim’s life that reality had stopped, and whatever he did would set off a chain reaction of unknown results. So, with his again mentioned cautious nature, he stood still.
Jim Nelson had been bred to be a leader. It was no accident that he led the Michigan Wolverines to Rose Bowl victories as their star quarterback. Used to the adulation, being President would just be another chance to shine.
Jim and Margaret had been childhood friends and social equals, a foundation often said to make for the strongest long-term marriages. There would never be major social Fau paws, especially when knowing the difference between a fork and the one for salads.
They cruised through the best schools with the important friends gathered around them on Saturday nights laughing and taunting each other with the best intentions-knowing they were going to be important members of society. Given that gift, they were a generation groomed for winning. Since the war had produced a can’t lose attitude to anyone outside this rarified air, it could be insufferable.
Jim and Mags were both only children, an anomaly at that time since most families were going out and multiplying. Given that fact, their relationship was more brother and sister, a pairing that was more like siblings than future husband and wife.
Since Mags was six months older, she took on a protector role over Jim, and that never changed. Throughout their marriage, she came to believe that she should have let him skin his knees occasionally, instead of watching out for his wellbeing.
Jim loved it. Why wouldn’t she? His mother was cold, from Eastern money not given to hugs or praise. Betty Bowers was from the circle that introduced Carolyn Brown, so there was always a push/pull between Mags and Carolyn’s affection, which provided a constant stroking of Jim’s ego. With such attention, he always felt that giving any attention to them was tantamount to cheating and was fine with that. Because that ‘problem’ had been solved, Jim Nelson could concentrate on the more important area of his life, following Ben’s success on the gridiron.
Jim didn’t let his Patton-like father down, and his exploits were legendary. Not only was he a nationally ranked quarterback, he also excelled in basketball and baseball. The nascent basketball league offered him the keys, but the interest from the Yankees was like a dream come true. Jim loved the Yankee lore of Ruth; Gehrig and Casey Stengel. But Ben was adamant that Jim played football. Even after he highlighted that Gehrig went to Columbia, his dad countered with the unruly Ruth.
“Son-you can’t tell me that would be good for your career, they are just circus acts. I know Babe, great guy, but come on…”
So that ended Jim’s baseball career. He had to admit that being a Yankee was a dead end, but what a glorious ending. Mags and Carolyn joined the choir of playing football, which they saw ‘toughing’ up their prize stud.
“Jim, listen to Ben, this will be a great move. College career, contacts, you know the score,” Mags would say using the sports metaphor.
He would submit to the overbearing father and ‘the girls’ and look at his absent mother and start to understand why Betty was like that. surrounded by these types of people must have been fun at first, then outputting from the constant haranguing of winning at all costs. It was the theme developed by Madison Avenue-America is the Best! So, Jim Nelson fell in line.
Not to be outdone, Mags and Carolyn joined in the classroom melee as scholars, and he could never understand why? They didn’t have his runway open for success. Were they competing for his attention? By any sign of Betty and Mags mother-Jane-there was no reason to think it was for their benefit. They didn’t care. No, it was for his eyes. It was truly something to be surrounded by two beautiful, smart, and rich women whose sole purpose in their young lives was in impressing the quarterback. Unlike most young men, Jim found this troubling. It seemed shallow, and not authentic. It was the first time he had ever had this thought, and it scared the hell out of him. He took it one step further, and wondered if he was phony, and his life was already like the sun shining on the placid lake, a simple reflection. That started a pattern-call Bobby Douglas-aka-Bobby D.
Jim loved his buddy, Bobby Douglass. The youngest child of Supreme Court Justice William “Wild Bill” Douglas, he was a precocious child spawned by a precocious man-child. His father was always at odds with Hoover, who considered him a Communist. Oh, and a negro lover too. Hoover could free style adjectives all day when it came to his hatred of all things Douglas Sr. How did the younger version take it? He didn’t. Bobby was a partier extraordinaire, and that attitude is what attracted Jim. The devil may car laissez faire style that drove Ben crazy. Bobby was on the football team, his star receiver. When the pocket was breaking down, and he was about to run for his life, he always knew that Bobby would be open. Ane he always was. Even Wild Bill joined in and made sure to be present at all of his games. He sat with Ben, and the two were mutual admirers, since Ben too had been tested on those chilly days of autumn, wearing the Michigan uniform with pride. Ben and Bill were friends, but because of Wild Bill’s dissenting opinion on the court, he had carved himself out of the majority so often that he became irrelevant. Irrelevance was something Ben hated, but he still had grudging respect for the court appointee. He knew that in the real world where Ben lived, this behavior wouldn’t be tolerated-hence Hoover’s dossier on the fun-loving judge.
“So, Ben, you aren’t going to have Jim follow into the law, now, are you?” he would repeat again ad nauseum.
As if it was a drill, a comedy bit, he would laugh and say- “who’s on first!?
It was his version of being irrelevant in the face of a stupid question. That aside would be enough to cool the justice and focus on the game at hand.
“What about Bobby?” Ben would say smirking already knowing the answer.
“The law is for uptight, fanatical do gooders,” Bill would regale with a laugh.
“Then why are you keeping the bench warm-Bill?
That would melt Wild Bill’s smile on command.
“Oh, stop it Ben. You know the law is a fixed game which hedges all bets the rich make, admit it!”
The last thing Ben Nelson would ever do was admit anything that Bill was saying being correct. So around it went, with neither budging an inch. They say football is a game of inches, so was their relationship, yet neither would give one up. So, with the star players’ fathers being obstinate, Jim and Bobby took the opposite tact. They played with life much like a football game, win lose or draw-it was to be savored.
Betty was living her life as if she was watching the clock tick down to zero. Not fun, nor was it her outlook any rosier. She was in a partnership with a man whose sole purpose was in winning. That Patton credo again-at all costs. At least in Mudville, the Babe was having fun. Betty understood why her son wanted to play baseball-it was warm and sunny. A bad day at the ballpark would be too injured to play. You played football no matter what. That machismo was what made her squirm. She would sit in the stands reading the latest novel, while ignoring her husband. She would notice the judge and wonder why was her lot in life setting for a human cartoon?
“Shit up Ben. Leave the kid alone!” she would occasionally boil over and stick an elbow in his ribs.
Message received, until the next play, while Betty would defeatedly turn back to the book. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of her son, she was. It was just that she knew that he was pushed into it by the old man, and that pattern was a never-ending presence in Jim’s life. It saddened her that he never took it upon himself to proactively do anything on his own. If it wasn’t Mags and Carolyn, it would be Ben or Bobby. She never heard Jim say- let’s do this, or ‘let’s do that’, not once. Was it her fault for giving up on the boy so young? Probably. You didn’t want a momma’s boy.
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