Grass Roots Read Free Page A

became broken, then scattered, then gave way entirely to give the earthbound a sparkling day. The green fields of North Carolina rolled out before him, and the blue of the Appalachian chain rose to his right. Again, he allowed himself to feel the wave of satisfaction that had come with Benjamin Carr’s promise to help him be elected to the Senate. There was a long road yet to travel, of course, but he already had the most important vote of all. The Senator’s stature was such that he had not even run a reelection campaign for the past three terms. He had simply sat on his south Georgia front porch and made a few dozen telephone calls to the faithful around the state. Now the Senator was going to be making those calls for Will Lee.
    How many of the faithful would Carr be able to move behind Will? Not all of them, he thought; some would have their own favorite for the seat. But most of them would do as they were asked. Few Georgia Democrats could hold out against the persuasive powers of Ben Carr.
    His friends were everywhere in the state, from the capitol to the smallest farm, and his enemies had long since run for cover.
    As the airplane crossed the South Carolina border into Georgia, Will reflected that, after the Senator was reelected to a sixth term, he would have to start putting out feelers to some other Capitol Hill staffers, to form the nucleus of, first, a campaign organization, and, later, a senator’s staff. But, more important. Will thought, he had to start being a Georgian again.
    After law school, he had joined his father in the firm of Lee & Lee, and, with his father’s connections from his days as governor, they had built a solid practice, both in their home town of Delano and in Atlanta. Will had become known around the state as a good lawyer and the bearer of an important political name. But in the eight years since he had joined Ben Carr’s staff, his practice of law in Georgia had been desultory, squeezed in between congressional sessions, while his father and a few associates had maintained the practice. Billy Lee had had a heart attack the previous year, and though it had not been a bad one, he had slowed down somewhat, hanging on to the practice for a time when Will might want to return to it.
    The airplane flew directly over downtown Atlanta now, and then over Hartsfield International Airport. The Senator would have already landed and taken off again in the helicopter. Air Traffic Control cleared Will directly to Roosevelt Memorial Field, at Warm Springs, a few miles from his home town of Delano, in Meriwether County. He began his descent from eight thousand feet.
    He would have to sit down with his father and talk about spending larger chunks of time at home over the next couple of years. The Senator had promised him time off, and Will would want to choose the work from their caseload that would give him some exposure, both locally and statewide.
    Soon, Will had the airfield in sight, a three-thousand-foot strip of asphalt with half a dozen light airplanes tied down on a paved ramp next to it. Will canceled his instrument flight plan, changed to the local Common Traffic Advisory Frequency, and announced his position and intentions to traffic in the Warm Springs airport area. Then he turned into a standard left traffic pattern and set the airplane down gently on the tarmac. As he taxied to the ramp, he saw that the Wagoneer had been left in the car park for him.
    The airplane secured and refueled and his luggage in the back of the car. Will unlocked the door and started to get in. He was stopped by the sight of a note on the driver’s seat. He tore open the envelope and read:
    Dear Will, Judge Boggs called at lunchtime to inquire when you would be home. I told him you were expected in the early afternoon, and he asked that you come to see him at the courthouse, directly from the airport, on “a matter of some importance,” as he put it. He wanted you, specifically, not your father. I told him you