Merrill Hess - 000 - Biography

Born in Allentown, but raised in Bucks County, PA, Merrill was, from an early age, interested in the all American sport of baseball. To him, there was nothing more in life than farming, corn, baseball, hotdogs and cracker jacks. He was always more of a risk taker than his older reserved brother Graham (10 years older), and Merrill was always quick to prove himself. Because their father was a Reverend, both boys were more grounded and less punks.

Older brother Graham met and married Colleen, the daughter of a farmer/baseball fan from Iowa. Her father, Ray Kinsella, became a man of minor fame in their hometown, as well as a bit of a laughing stock, when he tore down half of his crop to build a baseball diamond. The summer before he turned 13, when Merrill was visiting his brother, his wife Colleen, and their children Morgan (age 7) and Bo (age 5), he was told the most fantastic of stories. Colleen told Merrill one night after dinner (and while Graham was upstairs putting Morgan and Bo down after prayers) about something that happened back in Iowa involving a field of corn, her father, and her older sister Karin.

It seemed Ray, who’s father had been a professional baseball player (much to Merrill’s excitement), had also grown to love the sport. One day after moving to a new home, he heard a ‘mysterious voice’ in the field, telling him “If you build it, they will come.” Merrill chuckled lightly at this, although Colleen feigned seriousness when telling him this story.
Merrill asked for a soda (as he was too young for a beer), and sat down; listening to her story with curiosity and awareness. Colleen went on to tell him about the ‘ghosts’ or ‘spirits’ that came out of the cornfield.

“So the ghosts of dead farmers came for a visit. Was it Thanksgiving?” Merrill had joked.

“No...nono...Baseball players. Great names,-Famous baseball players!” Colleen had told him, her eyes shining.

Merrill spilt his soda all over his jeans at that. “REALY?!?”

Although Merrill insisted there was no such things as ghosts, the story entranced him. Not readily to admit it, though, Merrill brushed off the story as they decided to play Pictionary for the rest of the evening.

Graham, as much as he tried, couldn’t get across that his badly drawn squiggly mess was really a dead birn on the side of the road with its head smashed in; as if it flew into some large wall.

That same summer Merrill played in several Little League games, and became well-known for his 17 footer over the left-field wall.

Every summer since, Merrill returned to visit Bucks County and stayed with his brother’s famiy. In May of last year, Colleen was killed by a Hit-and-Run while taking the dog out of an evening stroll. The driver (a local physician) claimed to of fallen asleep at the wheel when the tradegy happened. Reverend Graham visited her during her last hour pinned to the tree. Her upper and lower body were severed, being only held together by her spinal colomn and the truck’s hood. She spoke and talked as if nothing had happened, but as the nerve endings fired and burnt off, she began to loose touch with reality. As she gripped Graham’s hand, she recalled one fleeting summer memory that also b ecame her last words: “Swing away Merrill. Swing away.” This was from a Little League the summer before.

Her death effected Graham such that he had lost faith in God, and gave up his Reverendship. Instead he took to gardening and corn farming (but was lousy at both.) Graham has since struggled with his own conscious, putting up a wall between him and his young children. He’s spoken to Merrill about some ‘concerns’ with his small family, including Bo’s finicky water-drinking behavior and Morgan’s obession with a picture-book about Extraterrestrial life purchased at the local bookstore.