Eileen Parker was a surprise baby.  Born in 1940 to parents who were old enough to know what caused such things, they were completely taken by surprise when the rabbit died and discovered they would be parents.  Judith, her mother, was into her 40s when the news arrived.  Her father Loyd was bumping 50 pretty hard.  The two of them had resigned themselves to being childless a decade or two earlier and never really gave it much thought afterward, just accepted it as God’s will and moved on.

When Judith heard the news, she thought it was either a mistake or a miracle, and went back and forth trying to decide which.  When Loyd was told, the first thought was that the conception was a result of infidelity.  The joy didn’t come till a while later, after he’d secretly seen Doc Brown.  Making the appointment with the doctor right before the office closed, Loyd was dispatched to the Men’s room with a small Ball jar and the Montgomery Ward catalog, opened to the Ladies Undergarments section.  Twenty minutes later, Loyd was sitting on the front seat of his Buick smoking a cigarette and saying a silent prayer.

Of course Loyd hadn’t told Judith about his trip to see the doctor.  He hadn’t mentioned, either, the fact that he’d purchased a Smith & Wesson snub nose 38 revolver and was keeping it in the glove box of the Buick.  There was a lot riding on the results of his time spent with the Montgomery Wards catalog.

When Doc Brown called Loyd at work two days later, Loyd’s secretary put the call right through.  Loyd had never been so conflicted in his life.  He knew the news he was about to receive would impact his life like nothing ever had, and could even end someone else’s whom he loved.  A sweat broke out on his forehead as he reached over to pick up the phone.  “Loyd Parker.”  That’s the only way he knew to answer a phone.

“Doc Brown here,” he heard back.  “I”ll make it short.  You got more swimmers than the 1936 Olympics.  No need for you to be questioning the paternity of that child.  You can buy me a drink at the Lucky Lady next time I see you there.”

Loyd went home with a smile on his face and hugged Judith like it was the first time he’d seen her in weeks.  While she worked on dinner in the kitchen, Loyd went out to the Buick and retrieved the revolver from the glove box, wrapped it in old shop towels and hid it up in the attic above the garage.  About that same time, Doc Brown was tossing the Ball jar in the trash that had been on his desk for two days, ever since Loyd had handed it to him.  “There’s no sense in tempting fate,” he said to himself.  “Too many lives hang in the balance for such a thing to be known for sure.”  The contents never got close to a microscope.

The next day Loyd drove the Buick coupe to the Cadillac dealer and bought a Series 62 Touring Sedan.  The big black four door was a gift to himself.  And to Judith.  He regretted ever questioning her fidelity and was looking forward to the arrival of his first and only child.  The 1940 model was the debut of Cadillac’s entry level model.  That’s how he justified owning The Standard of the World.  Fate, which seemed to be playing a bigger and bigger part in Loyd’s world, would smile on the purchase.  By the time little Eileen was born  seven months later, new cars would no longer even be available to the buying public, much less Cadillacs. 

Despite his new found sense of optimism, a Cadillac in the garage, and a new baby just down the hall, the war years were not good for Loyd Parker.  Judith said he had a melancholy personality.  Today folks would call it depression.  Being a new father at fifty took its toll. Loyd lost a nephew in the Pacific theater, a younger cousin in France.  He looked noticeably frail by 1944 when he had his first heart attack.

Doc Brown said it was mild.  “If you’ll quit smoking and eat right, you’ll improve your chances of seeing Eileen graduate high school,” the doctor said.  “If you don’t, the next one will kill you.”  Loyd’s attempts were half hearted, but over time he got his color back and hoped that the end of the war would do more for him than quitting cigarettes.  V-Day came and went.  Eileen started first grade at Alamo Elementary.  Life seemed to settle down to a normal pace, yet Loyd knew he would not be blessed with the gift of years.  Neither his father nor grandfather had reached 60.  

Eileen seemed happy, but struggled in school.  He asked Doc Brown about it and Doc said something about “old eggs”.  Loyd had already decided to quit asking his doctor’s advice on anything, so it was never mentioned again.  Loyd decided what the whole family needed was a trip.  He’d always wanted to take Judith to New York City.  His own mortality, Eileen’s struggles in school, and Judith’s weariness of being the mother of an elementary school aged child at 50 years of age all called out for different scenery.

Loyd made the arrangements and took nearly three weeks off work.  Eileen was pulled out of school.  An itinerary was developed that took the family through the south to Florida, then up the eastern seaboard, and all the way to the Big Apple.  The big black Cadillac Touring Sedan sailed down the ribbons of road allowing them to see things they’d all only read about in books or seen in movies.  Eileen seemed to come out of her shell.  Judith was more relaxed than she’d been since she’d given birth.  Loyd was refreshed enough to think he might actually live to retirement by the time they got to New York City.

Loyd navigated the Cadillac through the streets of post-war New York like a pro. The final day of their time in the city, they had saved the Empire State Building for the last thing to do before checking out of the Edison Hotel and heading back towards Fort Stockton.  The observation deck on the 86th floor did not disappoint. The views of New York and beyond were amazing, Loyd tried to point out all the places they’d seen the days before to Eileen as she peered over the railing, barely tall enough to see over it.  The Cadillac parked on the street below looked like an ant.

As the family went back into the building and got into the elevator, Loyd asked them each which things they’d enjoyed most so far on the trip.  Each family member tried to recall their favorite site or event.  As the doors opened on the 43rd floor, they got off to take another elevator car down the remainder of the way to ground level.  Eileen bumped into Evelyn McHale in the doorway.  Evelyn was heading up to the 86th floor.

Evelyn had taken a train into the city that morning from Easton, Pennsylvania where she’d been visiting her boyfriend.  She’d met Barry Rhodes while he was attending college after being discharged from the United States Army Air Force.  It had probably been difficult for Evelyn to fall in love.  One of nine children born to her parents, Helen and Vincent McHale, she’d witnessed her parents go through a bitter divorce.  She and all eight siblings were relocated to Tuckahoe, New York by their father who had received full custody of them all.  That the father would gain custody of all nine children should perhaps be a clue as to the issues facing Evelyn’s tormented mother.

As the elevator was stopping on the 10th floor to accept more passengers going down, another one was letting passengers off on the 86th.  The Observation Deck.

Once outside on the Observation Deck, Evelyn removed her overcoat and folded it up neatly, then placed it up against the wall, next to the doors leading back into the building.  She made sure the handwritten note was folded up and placed safely in one of the pockets.  The security guard standing less than ten feet away thought nothing of it.  Often people would place possessions near the door to the building for safe keeping.  

Police would later find the note:

I don’t want anyone in or out of my family to see any part of me. Could you destroy my body by cremation? I beg of you and my family – don’t have any service for me or remembrance for me. My fiance asked me to marry him in June. I don’t think I would make a good wife for anybody. He is much better off without me. Tell my father, I have too many of my mother’s tendencies.

On the ground, as Loyd, Judith, and Eileen exited the door of the Empire State Building and made their way to the Cadillac, Evelyn McHale stood on top of the wall surrounding three sides of the Observation Deck on the 86th floor and calmly stepped off.

Glancing up to see if she could tell how high up they’d been, Eileen noticed something in the air.  It seemed to be getting larger by the second.  She didn’t have time to alert Loyd and Judith before Evelyn McHale met her maker atop the roof of the Parker’s Series 62 Touring Sedan.  Later, back in Fort Stockton, classmates would pay Eileen a nickel to hear her replicate the sound Evelyn McHale made on impact.  

By the time Eileen reached junior high, the performance had been refined with sound effects and flourishes that justified the increase in price to a dime.