"How much?!"
A chorus of voices rang out from the group of women in the house. Although they had clearly heard the amount, they instinctively wanted to hear it confirmed directly from Niall.
"Twenty-four million dollars."
Niall put down the newspaper and continued listening to the radio, where the broadcaster was animatedly describing how the politicians in Washington had passionately fought for their voters, running back and forth, overcoming all sorts of obstacles, and finally pulling every string they could to win such a great benefit for the farmers of West Virginia.
Of course, it was all political fluff, but Niall listened carefully anyway. He stood in front of the radio, word for word absorbing the message, gaining a general understanding of the situation—at least what was being said publicly.
Republican congressman Robert had taken a shortcut to secure the support of the additional hundreds of thousands of rural voters. Simply put, he used the Republican majority in both houses to fast-track the proposal through the congressional agriculture committees, where his party held sway.
The final step was to get President Hoover's signature. Under normal circumstances, Hoover would not reject a bill that could boost the Republican Party's approval ratings. So, in effect, the funding was already approved—federal money would be released soon.
"Twenty-four million—my god, that's a lot of money." Aunt Kinji, with her limited life experience, couldn't even comprehend such a large sum, let alone visualize it.
"With so many people in our state, how much do we each get?" Patrick asked, curious.
"That depends on the detailed provisions passed by the congressional agriculture committee," Niall said as he sat back down, thoughtful.
"Debbie, are you done eating? We need to go." Patrick, excited by the good news, was eager to go spread the word to their relatives—maybe the money would arrive before Christmas.
But before they could even leave, a newsboy on a bicycle arrived with an extra edition that had sent waves across the state. The boy was proud to be part of it—half the state knew that this money was won by Niall and a group of illiterate Irish farmers who had used their votes to pressure Republican lawmakers.
The petition even had the newsboy's signature on it—he was a witness, a participant. So of course, he delivered the extra edition to Niall first, sharing the good news.
Though she couldn't read, Aunt Kinji came over too. She recognized the bolded number: 24. Twenty-four million—it was written in simple Arabic numerals, which she could understand.
The news that the emergency aid had been federally approved and funds would soon be released spread rapidly across the northern West Virginia mountains. The farmers who had voted all stood a little taller: it was under Niall's leadership that they had braved wind and snow, walked several kilometers of mountain roads, and cast their votes to win this emergency funding.
Meanwhile in New York, Wilkie sat in his office, sipping hot coffee and flipping open the newspaper. He skipped the front page—it was just another day's tally of how many people had jumped off buildings in New York. It had shocked him at first, but after seeing names of people he knew among the dead, he had grown numb to it and no longer looked.
On the second page, a massive headline caught his eye. Niall Gallagher, a representative of West Virginia farmers, had appealed to the state government. Thanks to the attention of both state and federal authorities, President Hoover had approved a $24 million emergency agricultural relief package.
This money would help coal miners and farmers in the cold, starving mountains of West Virginia get through the winter without worrying about heating or food. The Republican-led government, the article claimed, would never abandon the people in times of need.
"It was him!" Wilkie was surprised when he saw the name.
Back in late summer or early fall, he had sat across the table from Niall, discussing the legalization of gambling in Nevada. Niall had even asked him to look into the structure of film companies and whether there were any issues with buying shares.
He hadn't forgotten about it—it just wasn't a high priority. He'd assigned two interns from his law office to handle it. By now, the investigation results were probably ready, so maybe it was a good excuse to pay a visit.
Where were Niall and Frederick from again? Wilkie couldn't quite remember at first, but the paper mentioned Weinsburg in Brooke County, jogging his memory. He called in his secretary and asked her to book a train ticket to Weinsburg—he was going to meet Niall.
What was Niall doing at that moment?
Certainly not lining up at the state office for a handout. Though the federal money was approved, the state still needed to tally the number of farmers and determine, according to the congressional committee's guidelines, how much each household would receive.
At the moment, Niall was helping a cow give birth—literally.
Veterinarians existed, of course, but when a cow gave birth on a farm, people usually handled it themselves.
The barn was cold. Aunt Kinji had spread hay all around the cow, while Niall brought in a metal bucket and some firewood to start a fire—not for themselves, but for the cow. A newborn calf could die from the cold, which would be a big loss for any farmer.
To prevent the cow from running around, Niall and Aunt Kinji had moved the other cows into the neighboring pen—since the pigs there had already been butchered, it could temporarily hold a cow. They tied up the birthing cow, while Aunt Kinji stood by to calm it and keep it from getting agitated.
Niall moved the iron bucket closer to keep the cow warm. Watching the contractions intensify, he figured the water would break soon. Some cows give birth standing up, but this one didn't seem inclined to rise. If the delivery went poorly, someone would need to reach in and help pull the calf out.
They had to prepare rope too—once the hooves came out, the head needed to come quickly as well. If the calf stayed stuck inside too long, it could suffocate. That had happened before.
Aunt Kinji, who had plenty of experience, kept a close eye on the cow. Niall, while not a novice, still didn't have her level of expertise. Sister-in-law Campbell was nearby, watching over the other animals so the cow's bellowing wouldn't frighten them.
"Come help me!" Aunt Kinji called when the front hooves appeared.
Just then, Wilkie, having finally found Niall's house, stood at the door—watching Niall help deliver a calf.