With Donner’s passing, the United States entered a period of bereavement and life came to a momentary halt. Following the bulletin of his disappearance, many were struck with numb disbelief. To all, the news seemed like something from a nightmare. Their savior was gone. None could think of him without surrendering to grief sure that the goals he had sought and the possibility he had represented were now all for naught. They thought of this divine being humanly, vainly trying to shoulder the anguish of their parting. Black banners hung in many cities throughout the country and the streets remained empty.

On December 29, 1935, FDR’s voice crackled over the airwaves in millions of homes across the nation and abroad in a very personal fireside chat. Americans gathered round their radios at home, in churches, within scattered migrant camps and elsewhere to say a final farewell to a fallen hero. Before the president’s address to the nation, the hymn “Faith of Our Fathers” played. At its bittersweet conclusion, Roosevelt spoke.

“From the heavens, he came and to the heavens he returned. He granted strength to the weary, gave voice to the unheard, and instilled confidence in a doubting populace. He was a mystery unsolved and someone who will be deeply missed. But do not surrender to despair in his passing for death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity. You can kill a man but you can’t kill an idea. And though his time with us was short, it is not length of life, but depth of life that matters most.

“The nation and the world have indeed sustained a stunning loss. But the tragic sorrow which sours today must serve to strengthen our determination that the cause which he led and the ideals for which he fought will be attained.

“Let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come, to impart our courage unto the coming generations.

“Have faith in each other; faith in our united crusade. Let not the keenness of our spirit ever be dulled. Let not the impacts of temporary events, of temporal matters of but fleeting moment; let not these deter us in our unconquerable purpose.

“We shall prevail against greed and hate, fear and doubt. Tomorrow is not written, so let us not surrender for though the night is dark, the dawn soon comes.”

***

Mike Reynolds sat on his front porch with his daughter Stephanie, the snow-covered Kansas plains sprawling endlessly around them. Through the partially ajar front door streamed a sliver of warm light accompanied by the faint sounds of the comedy stylings of Jack Benny and company via the buzzing radio. Huddled together against the cold evening breeze, the pair gazed up at the clear night sky marveling at the countless stars littering the empyrean. Stephanie’s eyes focused on glimmering Sirius which coyly winked back at her.

“Is he really gone, papa?” she pensively asked.

“I don’t know angel,” Mike replied, searching the stars for some sign. “I just don’t know.”

Stephanie pressed closer against her father for warmth. “I hope he comes back one day.” She paused recollecting her own experience with the Okie Angel at the hospital. “I miss him,” she quietly confessed.

“We all do, sweetheart. But don’t worry. He’s in a better place. Now come on.” Mike rose rubbing his numb thighs with his palms to restore feeling. “Time for bed,” he told her, turning and entering the house. Stephanie vacillated on the porch, continuing to watch the heavens as her father’s footsteps clumped off to the rear of the house. Staring up at Sirius, she witnessed an odd phenomenon as the star twinkled and flared briefly separating into two distinct entities whose glow shone brilliantly over the plains and flashed brightly in her eyes. Their comforting radiance soon dimmed and they fused once more into a single, shimmering orb.

“Stephanie,” Mike called from the front door causing his daughter to turn away and face her father. “It’s time for bed,” he earnestly repeated.

“Ok papa.” She jumped to her feet and followed her father inside.

***

Ascending through the cloud cover, passing through the heavens into the great gulf of space, the argent Therian craft hovered over the Earth in the celestial sea crowned by the golden glory of the sun. Hesiod’s silhouette loomed over the bridge silently admiring the beauty of Terra with Chris emerging from his shadow into the glow of humanity’s renewed hope.