Seeing a lovely maiden fall from the sky and turn the family four door sedan into a convertible can have an effect.  The family was shaken as they stood there and a crowd slowly gathered around to see what had happened.  Soon Robert Wiles passed by with a camera and took a picture of the scene.  Several, actually.  Those shots eventually made their way into the pages of LIFE magazine where they quickly became iconic.  Ben Cosgrove of Time called the photo “technically rich, visually compelling and downright … beautiful”.  He went on to say she looked asleep, rather than deceased, like she might have been daydreaming about her beau.

Landing on a Cadillac rather than concrete made a huge difference.  The 1940 Sixty Special was known for its soft ride, after all.  Though not in line with what her final wishes had stated, her sister Helen Brenner did view the remains in order to identify them.  She did honor Evelyn’s request that there be no service or memorial.  Evelyn McHale was cremated and scattered without fanfare or goodbyes.

Of course, by then the Parkers were well on their way back to Fort Stockton by train.  Nowadays a seven-year-old would be given grief counseling, play therapy or a support group to deal with the aftermath.  But things were different in 1947 and the family never again discussed what they’d witnessed.  The ‘rub some dirt on it’ method of dealing with pain might have worked for the boys on the school yard skinning their knees while sliding into home plate, but it fell woefully short of helping Eileen with the dreams she had at night.  While she was able to humorously replicate the sounds of the event for her peers for ice cream money, the sites she’d witnessed were anything but funny.

For his part, Loyd was in the immediate market for a new car, as was half the country in 1947. They took a cab home from the depot once the Lone Star Flyer pulled away from the platform at the depot in Fort Stockton.   In conversations with his State Farm agent, he was told it was the first time such a claim had been filed since the company began operations in 1922.  “I’m going to need some photos of the accident for the file,” the agent said.  Loyd dropped off his issue of LIFE right after lunch.  The whole thing did make Loyd something of a celebrity in town.  He eventually had to stop dropping by the Lucky Lady for a beer after work, as that was all anyone wanted to talk about in the bar.

The women of Fort Stockton were a bit more subtle.  But in Thursday Night Sewing Circle at Second Baptist, several of them did want to discuss poor Evelyn.  “What do you suppose led her to make such a fateful decision?” someone would ask.

“How do you think her poor fiancé reacted?” someone else would wonder out loud.  As far as anyone knew, he never made a public statement on the matter, though he never married, either.  Maybe that was his public statement.

“Do you think she’s with Jesus?” one of the ladies asked while tea was being served.  The ladies were hopeful, but unsure.  One of them said she’d take it up with Brother Bob and get back to the group.  His answer, however, was vague and nuanced, and could have been interpreted several different ways, so she never reported back.

For his part, Loyd still needed to acquire a new car.  Picking’s were still slim at the time.  A new Cadillac was off the table.  He felt the extravagance of the 1940 Sixty Special Touring Sedan may have somehow been responsible for the event at the Empire State Building.  “Maybe if she’d looked down and seen something else, she wouldn’t have done it,” he said to Judith as they lay in bed one night.  “I don’t think I’ll ever buy another Cadillac.”

“Whatever you do, don’t get a convertible,” she whispered as they fell asleep.

Boyd Borden over at Buckboard Buick was glad to see Loyd walk through the door, having already heard about the mishap with the Cadillac and said something about the Big Apple landing right on Loyd’s Caddy.  It wasn’t the first time the joke had been made.  Loyd attempted to keep the small talk to a minimum.  As it would happen, Mrs. Brewster had already stopped by the Buick showroom and talked with Boyd.  Her name was the next one on the waiting list and her Seine Blue Poly over Gray Striped Broadcloth 1947 Buick Super Sedan had already been prepped for pickup.  “You let Loyd Parker and his family have my Buick,” she’d told Boyd.  “That family has suffered enough and they need a car right now.  I’ll take the next one that is available.” Loyd stared at the happy couple on the cover of the ’47 Buick brochure. That probably sold him on the car as much as anything.

The Buick was indeed a handsome sedan, the color just formal enough to set off the rear-swept lines of the car, but a shade that would still make the car look racy in the right light.  Mrs. Brewster had checked the option box for the color-matched sun visor, which worried Loyd a bit.  “Can’t really see anything that might be falling out of the sky with that thing covering the windshield from above,” he noted.

“What are the odds of it happening twice?” Boyd asked.  “Besides, there’s nothing taller in Fort Stockton than two stories.  Someone jumped off that, you wouldn’t have time to get out of the car even if you did see ‘em.”  Loyd drove the Buick home.

That summer, the family didn’t go anywhere on vacation.  They just figured it was safer to stay close to Fort Stockton  Eileen took some summer school classes to help her get ready for the challenge of third grade.  “There’s going to be a lot coming at her this year,” Judith told Loyd.  “We need to get her ready.  Help her focus.  Get her mind off, well, you know.”

The family continued to attend Second Baptist of Fort Stockton, but Judith had dropped out of the Thursday Evening Sewing Circle.  She never really told anyone a reason, just that “it’s time”.  Loyd still served as an usher and helped count the offering, particularly if he knew Brother Bob was going to be in the room.

The summer of ’47 was a particularly hot one.  Loyd drove the Buick down to White Automotive and picked up a window air conditioner.  When he’d get home from work he’d strip down to his t-shirt and boxers and sit in front of it in the front room.  Judith liked that the doors and windows all had to be shut.  Eileen found that the constant hum of the unit helped quiet the voices in her head.

When September rolled around, Judith took the keys to the Buick and drove downtown to the JC Penny with Eileen to shop for some new dresses for school.  It was obvious that her daughter was still affected by the events she’d witnessed in New York.  Judith hoped that the start of school would help bring Eileen back out of her shell.

Loyd said he wanted to take Eileen to school that first day, sort of see her off in a father-daughter kind of way.  “You get to walk her to school every other day of the year.  This would be a treat,” he told Judith the night before.

The next morning Judith was up early making a full breakfast for Loyd and Eileen.  As they ate the bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy, Judith made a sack lunch for Eileen to take to school with her.  There was the apprehension that always came with the first day of school, not knowing what to expect.  Judith had written a notekin and slipped it into the brown bag, hoping it would make Eileen smile when she found it.

While Eileen brushed her teeth, Loyd backed the big Buick out of the small single car garage behind the house and left the motor running so the 248 cubic inch straight-eight would be warmed up and purring like a kitten when they finally backed out of the driveway.  He waited while Eileen gave her mother a hesitant hug just inside the side door to the kitchen, then opened the passenger door on the Buick from the inside so she could get in.

She was quiet on the drive to school, apprehensive. When he parked the Buick across from Alamo Elementary and shut off the ignition, she hugged him tight, not wanting to go in.  He hugged her back and said it would be okay. She slowly broke free of his hug and he helped her gather her lunch and school supplies.  “It’ll be alright,” he told her.  “I’ll pick you up after school and you can tell me all about your first day.  We’ll go home and Mom will be making your favorite dinner.”

The day was long.  There were tears.  But there were smiles, as well, especially when she saw the note in her lunch with her egg salad sandwich.  She tried to remember as many happy things as she could so she could share them with her mom and dad over dinner. When the final bell rang at 3:30, Eileen gathered her things and made her way quickly out the front door of the old school.  The big blue Buick was parked in the exact same spot across from the school as it was when Loyd dropped her off that morning.  

She could see Loyd as she made her way to the car.  He was slumped over the wheel, like he’d been asleep all day.