As a member of the working class employed by one of the major retail chains in the United States the encrouching season is an escalating demand on me. Both physically and mentally, the demands on my time and concentration are more with each passing day. As a result I am afraid I have little of myself left over for other events.
Forgive my tardiness in posting the stories I should've already written, but the time will come when I will be active again in this favorable pass time.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Welcome Changes
When I sleep 4 or more hours a day I normally wake up with back and leg pain. So much so that I can't just lay there anymore. It has little to do with physical exertion from the day before, or in my case the night before. It's the same pains I've awoke too for over 30 years.
Most of the time they aren't as painful as they were 25 - 30 years ago but they're still there. I've never allowed myself the "LUXURY" of medication because of what I've seen it do to people I've known.... but there are days when I almost wish I did.
As difficult as it may be to understand, I've come to welcome those days in which I experience different pains almost as much as I welcome the days where I experience less pain.
It's almost like the ringing in my ears. I don't always have to have something making noise (like the tv or radio) but it does help to keep my mind off the constant ringing, and helps me drift off to sleep.
A different pain is much like that. Unless it's a very strong pain, which usually seems to compound things and leaves me feeling at wit's end and agitated all the time. But a mild pain is a welcome change from the norm... it gives me something else to think about besides the "daily" pains I experience.
Most of the time they aren't as painful as they were 25 - 30 years ago but they're still there. I've never allowed myself the "LUXURY" of medication because of what I've seen it do to people I've known.... but there are days when I almost wish I did.
As difficult as it may be to understand, I've come to welcome those days in which I experience different pains almost as much as I welcome the days where I experience less pain.
It's almost like the ringing in my ears. I don't always have to have something making noise (like the tv or radio) but it does help to keep my mind off the constant ringing, and helps me drift off to sleep.
A different pain is much like that. Unless it's a very strong pain, which usually seems to compound things and leaves me feeling at wit's end and agitated all the time. But a mild pain is a welcome change from the norm... it gives me something else to think about besides the "daily" pains I experience.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Detour
Sometimes things just happen for a reason. Unexpected course changes take place in order to put you in the right spot at the right time. Kind of like a "test of character" event.
I was more than a little upset that morning when the boss called and told me where he'd lined me up to work that day. It was over a hundred miles away and it was already almost daylight outside. The coffee pot was still brewing and I had yet to have my first cup of the day, and now I felt pressed to just turn the thing off and rush out the door. I didn't though. I waited just long enough to grab a some coffee to go in a leaky travel mug which always ticked me off when it dribbled down the front of my uniform shirt... but I had to go. It was going to take me a couple of hours to get there, and from the sounds of it there was at least fifteen to twenty hours of work to be done.
"Just do as much as you can." Dan repeated several times through the short phone conversation. He knew I was upset.. He'd normally call the night before when he had me scheduled so far from home.
Out the door and down the road I go.. turning on to the paved secondary road which led to my destination. That road had taken a beating during the past winter and it was one rough ride. I was driving way too fast, given the current condition of the road, and not paying close enough attention when I topped that little drop off which left my tires spinning trying to find the pavement. I was certainly glad there were no immediate turns to deal with.
"I'll have to buy a new rear axle for this thing if I do that again." I thought to myself, never letting up on the gas pedal.
I reached my destination and found it to be the long hard day I feared it would be.. I worked until they finally ran me out so they could close their doors for the night at around 11 PM. I did manage to get a plate of food as I was signing out so I didn't have to wait until I got home to eat. There would be no place open on the trip home to get even a burger. It would be past 1 AM by the time I pulled back into my driveway, if I didn't pull off along the way for a nap first.
I was just beginning to get really sleepy behind the wheel when I came upon the barricade and detour sign... Coming to a complete stop in front of it I couldn't help but wonder how the state department had, in the time since I'd passed through there in the early hours of the day, managed to tear that road up enough to make it impassible. I have to admit, I considered going around it. But the little "never break the rules" dude was sitting on my shoulder screaming "You can't do that!!!... Don't you remember what happened this morning??
I wanted to slap him out the window. But instead, I turned to the left and headed off down the detour... "How much longer is this going to take?" I asked no one there. To make matters worse the radio station I always listened to went off the air at midnight. Good thing I had a tape deck.. now where did I put that case of tapes?
Almost 1 AM and I still hadn't reached the turn to the right which would put me traveling back in the direction of home. North!!! Where in the heck is this road taking me? If I keep going this should dump me out in Logansport... that's way north and west of home... surely I wouldn't have to drive that far north. I had never driven these roads before... because there was nothing out there but forests and corn fields! I'd say there were a spattering of farm houses out there too, but most of them were so far from the road that if they didn't have a light on you'd never see them this late at night.
About 10 minutes later I found the detour sign shinning in my headlights and was relieved to be turning back to the right finally. I made the turn and put the hammer down. I hadn't gone too far when the tape in the stereo started squeaking and I yanked it out before looking for another one to replace it with. I was too tired to be driving along with only the ringing in my ears to keep me company. I found one and looked back up just in time to come to a screeching halt behind a one ton pickup sitting dead in the middle of the road.
With my heart pounding and both hands still white knuckle gripping the steering wheel I heard the cassette tape hit the floor near my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I saw an older couple emerging into my headlights. They must have run off the road when they heard my tires screeching to a halt. At first I was really upset, until I noticed the left rear axle sitting on the road. The dual set of tires gone. When I finally calmed down a bit I reached for the shifter with intentions of putting it in reverse so I could back up and go around. At that moment the old couple turned to face the glare of my headlights and I saw the huge dimple in the man's head. He'd obviously seen some hard times.
Putting the van in park I left it running and got out, leaving the headlights on so I could assess the damage. I walked over to the couple and asked if they were okay. The woman did all the talking informing me that her husband had been driving along when they lost the wheels.
"I was so afraid." she said, "He doesn't react as quickly as he used to before the surgery." Then she went on to tell me they were on their way home after dropping their youngest son off at the college in the town I had been working in.
We shared a mutual surprise about the road being closed on our way back through and she was telling me they lived in Muncie, which was at least another 45 minutes on the other side of where I lived. We were actually stopped right at the edge of a little town in the middle of nowhere Indiana, and it was plain to see that the streets had been rolled up for the night long before we'd arrived.
It was just about that time that a tow truck came up the road and the guy never even stopped to ask if they needed help, he just pulled around in front of their truck and backed up to hook up to it. We all stood there for a moment in total surprise at his actions. Finally the woman stepped up to the front of the truck and asked the driver where he planned to take it. In reply he raised up and pointed over his shoulder.
"See that building right down there?" he asked. When she acknowledge he simply stated.. "there"
She asked when the business would open... "9 AM" he replied... "Is there a hotel or motel?"... "NO!" he seemed agitated.. He was getting ready to hook up the chains when she asked how much.. "75 dollars" he blurted out.
The look on her face as she turned to her husband was one of utter despair. I heard her tell her him "We can't afford this." His reply was a forced smile as he took her into his arms.
At that point I stepped over to the truck driver and told him I didn't think the couple wanted his help... "They don't have a choice!" he replied... "And they're damned lucky I was on my way home from the bar or they'd still be sitting here when the county sheriff drove through in the morning."
"I don't think you understand." I said, and was about to tell him they didn't have the money when he stood upright and started yelling at me to go on my way and leave it alone. "There's nothing you can do for them!" I can't explain why this angered me so, but it did.
"I said take your chains off their truck!" I demanded. "They can't afford to pay you and they don't want your help!"
The argument was heating up when the woman touched my arm. I turned to her and in the instant we made eye contact she told the tow truck driver to leave. He started to argue but was cut short when her husband held up his hand, and in a soft but firm voice said "Leave."
I watched as he unhooked his chains and drove away before turning to face them again. "I guess I'd better get my tools out." I smiled at them, and asked "Do you have a flashlight?" Then I stepped past them toward my van before they had a chance to answer. I had pulled my toolbox from the back of the van and was heading back when I was almost blinded as the night lit up all around me. Holding my free hand up to block the intense beam of light I heard the woman instruct her husband to point it down at the ground.
I stepped up to the back of their truck and set my box on the road, then inspected the damage done to the hub of the truck's axle.
"My name is Marylin" the woman said as she moved closer, "And this is my husband Henry." she turned and motioned for him to point the floodlight down even more. "You'll have to forgive him." She added, "I'm afraid he's become a little scared of the dark since his surgery."
I looked up to find him offering a sheepish smile and a node to support her comment. "It's okay Henry." I said, "We all have our fears." then I reached out my hand in greeting... "My name is Bob." and he gave me a firm shake.
"So now what do we do?" Marylin asked, trying to mask the concern in her tone of voice.
"Well, since we have the power of the sun at our disposal I think we need to find as much of your missing parts as we can and then go from there." I replied with a smile.
We followed the scar in the pavement left by the hub of their axle and started picking up anything that looked like it might belong to the brake, and when we were satisfied there was nothing left to find I instructed Henry to shine his light out on the field so we could locate the set of tires. We finally spotted them about 100 yards off the road and I handed the parts to Marylin before heading off to retrieve them.
It took a good hour or more for me to piece the puzzle of their brake back together, and it was obvious we were missing something. Even still, it held together long enough for me mount the tires back on. It was a real trick getting the axle off the ground, since their jack wouldn't fit under it. I had to use the little scissor jack from my van and a set of blocks from the back of their truck to get it high enough for their jack to slide under it. But we finally had it, and I took a lug nut for each of the other wheels to hold it on.
During the entire process Marylin spun the tale of their recent hardships.. Henry had suffered a stroke and that's when the doctor's discovered the tumor in the left side of his brain. She told of how they'd had to remove almost all of that half of his brain and how devastated he was to find he could no longer do most of the things he'd been accustomed to doing prior to the surgery.
"He's such a determined man." she said with a smile as she moved close enough to wrap her arms around him. "They said he'd probably never walk again... " and she turned to look up at him as she added, "But just look at him now... he's recovered so well."
He wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her closer, then kissed her on the forehead. And as he looked back at me I could feel the sense of pride in him... and I just knew deep inside everything he'd gone through, all the achievements he'd made in his recovery he'd pushed the limits so he could be there for her.
"You've done well Henry." I said with a smile as I carried on with my work.
I was almost done when Marylin spoke up again. "Bob, as we've watched you work on the truck we've both noticed that you seem to be in pain with almost every move you make. Are you?"
"Some." was my only reply, with a quick glance at her.
"Do you mind if we ask what happened?"
Up to that point I purposely hadn't mentioned the accident that had taken place while I was in the Navy. I just couldn't imagine my experience even comparing to what Henry had suffered. But as I told my story I was surprised to catch Henry wiping tears from his eyes. Marylin, too, seemed genuinely upset about it. I finished the work on their truck about the time I finished my story and started collecting my tools.
After all was done, the tools put away, and we'd performed a couple of short test runs to ensure the three lug nuts were going to stay secure I told them I'd follow them all the way home if it would make them feel better. Marylin pulled her purse off the seat of the truck and started digging for her wallet. "We don't have much." she said, "But we want to give you something for your help."
I reached over and placed my hand on her arm. "No you don't." I stated
"But you did so much, Bob... and you've probably saved us a lot of money tonight." she pleaded.
"I saved you from a road bandit." I replied. "But you still owe me nothing."
"We.... in..sist!" Henry struggled for the words.
"Then here's what you must do to repay me." I said without giving a thought to what I was about to say... Taking Marylin's hand in mine and looking her in the eye I told her. "Every day we encounter people that demand our help, and because of that we've all become a little less sensitive to the needs of others. We've hardened our hearts to prevent others from taking advantage of us..." I paused for a moment when I saw the recognition in her eyes, "Yet every so often we encounter that person who asks for nothing, yet the look of despair in their eyes pleads for help."
I watched a tear well up in her eyes and break free to roll down her cheek. "You know what I'm saying is true don't you?" I asked
"Yes." she replied. Her hand gripped mine a little more.
"Well.. the next time you get that gut feeling that someone truly needs your help even though they've not asked for it..."
"We will... " she said before I could finish. Then she gave me a true heartfelt hug. One of those hugs that allows your souls to embrace.
As we parted company that night I knew she would hold true to her promise and when the time came she too would instruct that fortunate someone just how they could repay them for their kindness. And I wiped the tear as I drove away.
I was more than a little upset that morning when the boss called and told me where he'd lined me up to work that day. It was over a hundred miles away and it was already almost daylight outside. The coffee pot was still brewing and I had yet to have my first cup of the day, and now I felt pressed to just turn the thing off and rush out the door. I didn't though. I waited just long enough to grab a some coffee to go in a leaky travel mug which always ticked me off when it dribbled down the front of my uniform shirt... but I had to go. It was going to take me a couple of hours to get there, and from the sounds of it there was at least fifteen to twenty hours of work to be done.
"Just do as much as you can." Dan repeated several times through the short phone conversation. He knew I was upset.. He'd normally call the night before when he had me scheduled so far from home.
Out the door and down the road I go.. turning on to the paved secondary road which led to my destination. That road had taken a beating during the past winter and it was one rough ride. I was driving way too fast, given the current condition of the road, and not paying close enough attention when I topped that little drop off which left my tires spinning trying to find the pavement. I was certainly glad there were no immediate turns to deal with.
"I'll have to buy a new rear axle for this thing if I do that again." I thought to myself, never letting up on the gas pedal.
I reached my destination and found it to be the long hard day I feared it would be.. I worked until they finally ran me out so they could close their doors for the night at around 11 PM. I did manage to get a plate of food as I was signing out so I didn't have to wait until I got home to eat. There would be no place open on the trip home to get even a burger. It would be past 1 AM by the time I pulled back into my driveway, if I didn't pull off along the way for a nap first.
I was just beginning to get really sleepy behind the wheel when I came upon the barricade and detour sign... Coming to a complete stop in front of it I couldn't help but wonder how the state department had, in the time since I'd passed through there in the early hours of the day, managed to tear that road up enough to make it impassible. I have to admit, I considered going around it. But the little "never break the rules" dude was sitting on my shoulder screaming "You can't do that!!!... Don't you remember what happened this morning??
I wanted to slap him out the window. But instead, I turned to the left and headed off down the detour... "How much longer is this going to take?" I asked no one there. To make matters worse the radio station I always listened to went off the air at midnight. Good thing I had a tape deck.. now where did I put that case of tapes?
Almost 1 AM and I still hadn't reached the turn to the right which would put me traveling back in the direction of home. North!!! Where in the heck is this road taking me? If I keep going this should dump me out in Logansport... that's way north and west of home... surely I wouldn't have to drive that far north. I had never driven these roads before... because there was nothing out there but forests and corn fields! I'd say there were a spattering of farm houses out there too, but most of them were so far from the road that if they didn't have a light on you'd never see them this late at night.
About 10 minutes later I found the detour sign shinning in my headlights and was relieved to be turning back to the right finally. I made the turn and put the hammer down. I hadn't gone too far when the tape in the stereo started squeaking and I yanked it out before looking for another one to replace it with. I was too tired to be driving along with only the ringing in my ears to keep me company. I found one and looked back up just in time to come to a screeching halt behind a one ton pickup sitting dead in the middle of the road.
With my heart pounding and both hands still white knuckle gripping the steering wheel I heard the cassette tape hit the floor near my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I saw an older couple emerging into my headlights. They must have run off the road when they heard my tires screeching to a halt. At first I was really upset, until I noticed the left rear axle sitting on the road. The dual set of tires gone. When I finally calmed down a bit I reached for the shifter with intentions of putting it in reverse so I could back up and go around. At that moment the old couple turned to face the glare of my headlights and I saw the huge dimple in the man's head. He'd obviously seen some hard times.
Putting the van in park I left it running and got out, leaving the headlights on so I could assess the damage. I walked over to the couple and asked if they were okay. The woman did all the talking informing me that her husband had been driving along when they lost the wheels.
"I was so afraid." she said, "He doesn't react as quickly as he used to before the surgery." Then she went on to tell me they were on their way home after dropping their youngest son off at the college in the town I had been working in.
We shared a mutual surprise about the road being closed on our way back through and she was telling me they lived in Muncie, which was at least another 45 minutes on the other side of where I lived. We were actually stopped right at the edge of a little town in the middle of nowhere Indiana, and it was plain to see that the streets had been rolled up for the night long before we'd arrived.
It was just about that time that a tow truck came up the road and the guy never even stopped to ask if they needed help, he just pulled around in front of their truck and backed up to hook up to it. We all stood there for a moment in total surprise at his actions. Finally the woman stepped up to the front of the truck and asked the driver where he planned to take it. In reply he raised up and pointed over his shoulder.
"See that building right down there?" he asked. When she acknowledge he simply stated.. "there"
She asked when the business would open... "9 AM" he replied... "Is there a hotel or motel?"... "NO!" he seemed agitated.. He was getting ready to hook up the chains when she asked how much.. "75 dollars" he blurted out.
The look on her face as she turned to her husband was one of utter despair. I heard her tell her him "We can't afford this." His reply was a forced smile as he took her into his arms.
At that point I stepped over to the truck driver and told him I didn't think the couple wanted his help... "They don't have a choice!" he replied... "And they're damned lucky I was on my way home from the bar or they'd still be sitting here when the county sheriff drove through in the morning."
"I don't think you understand." I said, and was about to tell him they didn't have the money when he stood upright and started yelling at me to go on my way and leave it alone. "There's nothing you can do for them!" I can't explain why this angered me so, but it did.
"I said take your chains off their truck!" I demanded. "They can't afford to pay you and they don't want your help!"
The argument was heating up when the woman touched my arm. I turned to her and in the instant we made eye contact she told the tow truck driver to leave. He started to argue but was cut short when her husband held up his hand, and in a soft but firm voice said "Leave."
I watched as he unhooked his chains and drove away before turning to face them again. "I guess I'd better get my tools out." I smiled at them, and asked "Do you have a flashlight?" Then I stepped past them toward my van before they had a chance to answer. I had pulled my toolbox from the back of the van and was heading back when I was almost blinded as the night lit up all around me. Holding my free hand up to block the intense beam of light I heard the woman instruct her husband to point it down at the ground.
I stepped up to the back of their truck and set my box on the road, then inspected the damage done to the hub of the truck's axle.
"My name is Marylin" the woman said as she moved closer, "And this is my husband Henry." she turned and motioned for him to point the floodlight down even more. "You'll have to forgive him." She added, "I'm afraid he's become a little scared of the dark since his surgery."
I looked up to find him offering a sheepish smile and a node to support her comment. "It's okay Henry." I said, "We all have our fears." then I reached out my hand in greeting... "My name is Bob." and he gave me a firm shake.
"So now what do we do?" Marylin asked, trying to mask the concern in her tone of voice.
"Well, since we have the power of the sun at our disposal I think we need to find as much of your missing parts as we can and then go from there." I replied with a smile.
We followed the scar in the pavement left by the hub of their axle and started picking up anything that looked like it might belong to the brake, and when we were satisfied there was nothing left to find I instructed Henry to shine his light out on the field so we could locate the set of tires. We finally spotted them about 100 yards off the road and I handed the parts to Marylin before heading off to retrieve them.
It took a good hour or more for me to piece the puzzle of their brake back together, and it was obvious we were missing something. Even still, it held together long enough for me mount the tires back on. It was a real trick getting the axle off the ground, since their jack wouldn't fit under it. I had to use the little scissor jack from my van and a set of blocks from the back of their truck to get it high enough for their jack to slide under it. But we finally had it, and I took a lug nut for each of the other wheels to hold it on.
During the entire process Marylin spun the tale of their recent hardships.. Henry had suffered a stroke and that's when the doctor's discovered the tumor in the left side of his brain. She told of how they'd had to remove almost all of that half of his brain and how devastated he was to find he could no longer do most of the things he'd been accustomed to doing prior to the surgery.
"He's such a determined man." she said with a smile as she moved close enough to wrap her arms around him. "They said he'd probably never walk again... " and she turned to look up at him as she added, "But just look at him now... he's recovered so well."
He wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her closer, then kissed her on the forehead. And as he looked back at me I could feel the sense of pride in him... and I just knew deep inside everything he'd gone through, all the achievements he'd made in his recovery he'd pushed the limits so he could be there for her.
"You've done well Henry." I said with a smile as I carried on with my work.
I was almost done when Marylin spoke up again. "Bob, as we've watched you work on the truck we've both noticed that you seem to be in pain with almost every move you make. Are you?"
"Some." was my only reply, with a quick glance at her.
"Do you mind if we ask what happened?"
Up to that point I purposely hadn't mentioned the accident that had taken place while I was in the Navy. I just couldn't imagine my experience even comparing to what Henry had suffered. But as I told my story I was surprised to catch Henry wiping tears from his eyes. Marylin, too, seemed genuinely upset about it. I finished the work on their truck about the time I finished my story and started collecting my tools.
After all was done, the tools put away, and we'd performed a couple of short test runs to ensure the three lug nuts were going to stay secure I told them I'd follow them all the way home if it would make them feel better. Marylin pulled her purse off the seat of the truck and started digging for her wallet. "We don't have much." she said, "But we want to give you something for your help."
I reached over and placed my hand on her arm. "No you don't." I stated
"But you did so much, Bob... and you've probably saved us a lot of money tonight." she pleaded.
"I saved you from a road bandit." I replied. "But you still owe me nothing."
"We.... in..sist!" Henry struggled for the words.
"Then here's what you must do to repay me." I said without giving a thought to what I was about to say... Taking Marylin's hand in mine and looking her in the eye I told her. "Every day we encounter people that demand our help, and because of that we've all become a little less sensitive to the needs of others. We've hardened our hearts to prevent others from taking advantage of us..." I paused for a moment when I saw the recognition in her eyes, "Yet every so often we encounter that person who asks for nothing, yet the look of despair in their eyes pleads for help."
I watched a tear well up in her eyes and break free to roll down her cheek. "You know what I'm saying is true don't you?" I asked
"Yes." she replied. Her hand gripped mine a little more.
"Well.. the next time you get that gut feeling that someone truly needs your help even though they've not asked for it..."
"We will... " she said before I could finish. Then she gave me a true heartfelt hug. One of those hugs that allows your souls to embrace.
As we parted company that night I knew she would hold true to her promise and when the time came she too would instruct that fortunate someone just how they could repay them for their kindness. And I wiped the tear as I drove away.
Monday, November 16, 2009
An Unhappy Marriage (Part Two)
While Sherrie and I were getting to know one another other events were developing which would change my life... our lives. The factory I worked at had been loosing orders. As a result hours were being cut on all shifts. By the first week of December I had been cut back to 3 days a week. A few days later my shift supervisor stopped me on the way into the building and sent me home. The schedule had been reduced again. I had already tightened my belt to accomadate the cut in hours, but a 2 day workweek was not going to keep me going.
I was on my way back to the hotel when I spotted the Navy Recruitor sign outside a small office. Without really giving it a second thought I pulled into the parking lot and went in. The man standing behind the counter was very helpful as he handed me the necessary paperwork to fill out.
After I completed the paperwork he gave me a slip of paper with the date and time they would be issuing the next entrance exam and informed me I would need to bring a copy of my birth certificate with me in order to take the test. I walked out of that office very insecure about what I had just done. But I was sure I had to do something.
I was on my way back to the hotel when I spotted the Navy Recruitor sign outside a small office. Without really giving it a second thought I pulled into the parking lot and went in. The man standing behind the counter was very helpful as he handed me the necessary paperwork to fill out.
After I completed the paperwork he gave me a slip of paper with the date and time they would be issuing the next entrance exam and informed me I would need to bring a copy of my birth certificate with me in order to take the test. I walked out of that office very insecure about what I had just done. But I was sure I had to do something.
Over the next few days I spent a lot of time pondering the prospects and the dread of making such a dramatic change to my life. I wasn't sure the "It's not just a job, it's an adventure!" slogan was what I was really looking for.
The following Monday morning I returned to the reqruitor's office just to talk to one of the recruitor's about what to expect from the Navy lifestyle. It almost seemed he was reluctant to give up a lot of information about it, but in our discussion he never mentioned anything negatively. When I walked out I still had increasing doubts about enlisting. But I did agree to take the entrance exam just to see how I would do.
That afternoon, when I walked into the shoe plant, my supervisor was laughing when he told me that there was rumor of even more hours being cut from the budget. For a moment I was truly upset about his comment, and I think that's when I truly made the decision to follow through with the plans to enlist into the Navy. Providing, of course, I passed the entrance exams, which I had little doubt that I would.
I told Ed that it really didn't matter about the hours because I was in the process of joining the Navy. And with that I handed him my shoeknife and told him he could give my hours to someone else.
"You'll be back!" he said, trying to get me to take my knife back. I just laughed at him and started walking for the door.
"You'll be back Bob!" he barked with a laugh.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Distractions
Sometimes I would like to unplug from daily life. It seems that every time I get something going that takes a fair amount of my time and effort suddenly there are a hundred unscheduled things to do every day. I can't get anything done because someones always in my face telling me we have to go do this or that................... Tomorrow I will dedicate at least a couple of hours to posting either a continuation to one of the stories I've already started or I'll post something new altogether... I'd prefer to do that but we'll have to see.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
An Unhappy Marriage (Part One)
We first met in October of 1975 when Bill asked me to go with him to pay a visit on his girlfriend. Bill had explained that he was going to apologize for not showing up for a dinner date the night before. He went on to explain that it had been her birthday and he knew she was going to be really upset about it.
"So you want me to go along in hopes that she won't throw a fit in front of a stranger, right?" I had asked him.
He regretfully admitted that was the true reason for asking me to go along. I didn't like the idea of being used like that, but thought it just might prove to be a more interesting evening than the one I had planned, so I agreed to go along.
When we arrived at her home, Bill was about to knock on the door when it swung wide open, revealing an obviously angry young woman. At first glance I thought this must be the little sister because she was only about 4 and a half feet tall. But as the conversation began it didn't take me long to realize she was the girlfriend he'd been afraid to face on his own. I couldn't help but be amused by the idea that a big boy like Bill was afraid to face such a petite woman.
"You have some nerve!" she started then stopped suddenly as Bill sidestepped to reveal me standing behind him. She had a look of understanding on her face as she looked first at me then back at Bill. She looked back at me for a long moment then turned and walked back into the house..."Come on in!" she stated as she vanished behind the door.
As Bill walked through the door he introduced her to me. "Bob, I'd like you to meet Sherri Smith. The sweetest little lady I've ever met." She spun around and glared at him, leaving me to wonder what part of that statement annoyed her to most.
That night wasn't quite the "interesting" night I thought it might turn out to me. A side of Bill emerged during that visit that took me by surprise. He was literally groveling at her feet, making every effort to weasel his way back into her good graces.
She knew exactly what he was doing, and why he'd brought me along. So she spent her time ignoring him by continually trying to engage me in a meaningful conversation. Oddly, I started feeling sympathetic to Bill's cause, and refrained from open conversation with her. I answered a few questions about myself where I didn't have to give up too much information and left plenty of openings for Bill to get a word in as often as she would allow it.
Thankfully, our visit wasn't to last very long. Sherri finally had enough of Bill's interruptions and asked him to leave. "Don't bother calling me any more Bill. I don't want to have anymore to do with you." she told him as she opened the door for us. She then turned and took my hand in hers. "But I'd really like it if you called on me Bob." she said with a smile.
As I walked out of the door I felt a twinge of anger at having been used by both of them that night. Bill used me to help control a bad encounter with Sherri and she used me that night to get her digs in at him. I walked away from that meeting wishing I had let Bill face her alone.
I listened to Bill rant about how she'd been all over me while we were there and how he wished he'd not asked me to come along with him. I didn't say a word. In a sense he got what he had coming to him. And after he dropped me off at my truck I pushed the events of the night out of my mind and gave it as little thought as it deserved afterward.
About two weeks had gone by and I was sitting in the diner where I always had lunch before going to work when I saw her walk through the door. As soon as I recognized her I felt a surge of contempt stir in me as the memories of that night returned. She appeared to be looking for someone and I quickly set my attention to eating my meal before we had the chance to make eye contact.
I was hoping she would find who she was looking for and not come over to my table. After sufficient time had passed and she hadn't come over to my table I finally looked up and found her sitting at the table directly in front of me smiling at me.
As soon as she saw me look up her smile broadened and she waved to me. I reluctantly forced a smile, took another bite of food, then got up and left. I was still hungry, but had no intention of indulging this situation further.
A few days later she turned up again. This time at the pool hall where I enjoyed playing eight ball with a few friends. This time I decided to just ignore her and play my game. She walked over, sat on a stool by the wall, and just stared at me smiling. It was quite disturbing and I finally paid for my game and left.
Over the next few weeks it became obvious she was following me. She began showing up in all the places I liked to hang out. I changed diners and on the second visit found her sitting across the room from me again. I changed my whole routine in effort to avoid her, but to no avail, for every time I looked up there she was.
One night, while waiting in my truck at the Sonic drive-in, I was suddenly aware of someone standing by my door. I knew who it was without having to look, but still I turned my head in her direction just as she tapped on my window.
I rolled the window down without breaking eye contact with her. When she realized I wasn't going to say anything she stated. "I think we need to talk."
"About what?" I asked, trying to use a tone of voice which would make my annoyance with her obvious.
"Well," she said, "I've been wondering why you haven't come to visit me."
"Did you really think I would after that little episode with you and Bill that night?" I asked, watching her eyes carefully.
"Well.... no, I guess I didn't." she replied. "But I hoped you would."
"Excuse me." the waitress said as she stepped up to the car. "Here's your order, sir."
"Thank you." I said, digging for my wallet.
"May I sit with you, in your truck, and talk about it?" She asked while I was fishing some money from my wallet andgave it to the the girl.
I didn't answer at first, but glanced up at her while waiting for my change. As I tucked my change in my pocket I told her to get it.
While I ate she told me stories of how Bill had made several dates with her and then stood her up. She also told of how when he did take her out he was constantly embarrasing her by making such and issue of her size. When she said that I immediately remembered the grimace on her face that night when Bill made his introductions.
After I finished eating and set the window tray on the stand I half expected we would say our goodbyes and she would return to her car. Instead she asked if we could drive around and continue to talk.
We ended up spending most the evening together just talking. I was surprised to discover that she had been married before and recently divorced. She and her husband had lived in Nebraska, which explained why I hadn't seen her around town before.
She told me some stories about her ex-husband, more to explain why they had divorced than anything else. According to her he had taken advantage of her 4' 6" size on many occassions to force her to do things she would rather not describe. Of course my imagination put a lot of things together and I couldn't help but to feel sorry for her.
I finally dropped her back off at her car and went back to the Dee Swift Hotel, an old railroad hotel located just south of the main square in town. That's where I had been living ever since returning to DeQueen Arkansas to get my old job back. I couldn't help feeling troubled about this whole Sherrie issue.
The way she had started stalking me after that first night we met had really annoyed me and yet that evening, her stories, made me feel something for her. I wasn't exactly sure what that was, which is what bothered me the most.
Over the next few weeks I loosened up a bit and when she'd show up at meal times she'd come on over to my table and sit with me. At times she'd show up at the pool hall and play a few games with me and eventually I started accepting invitations to visit her at her home. We did become friends.
"So you want me to go along in hopes that she won't throw a fit in front of a stranger, right?" I had asked him.
He regretfully admitted that was the true reason for asking me to go along. I didn't like the idea of being used like that, but thought it just might prove to be a more interesting evening than the one I had planned, so I agreed to go along.
When we arrived at her home, Bill was about to knock on the door when it swung wide open, revealing an obviously angry young woman. At first glance I thought this must be the little sister because she was only about 4 and a half feet tall. But as the conversation began it didn't take me long to realize she was the girlfriend he'd been afraid to face on his own. I couldn't help but be amused by the idea that a big boy like Bill was afraid to face such a petite woman.
"You have some nerve!" she started then stopped suddenly as Bill sidestepped to reveal me standing behind him. She had a look of understanding on her face as she looked first at me then back at Bill. She looked back at me for a long moment then turned and walked back into the house..."Come on in!" she stated as she vanished behind the door.
As Bill walked through the door he introduced her to me. "Bob, I'd like you to meet Sherri Smith. The sweetest little lady I've ever met." She spun around and glared at him, leaving me to wonder what part of that statement annoyed her to most.
That night wasn't quite the "interesting" night I thought it might turn out to me. A side of Bill emerged during that visit that took me by surprise. He was literally groveling at her feet, making every effort to weasel his way back into her good graces.
She knew exactly what he was doing, and why he'd brought me along. So she spent her time ignoring him by continually trying to engage me in a meaningful conversation. Oddly, I started feeling sympathetic to Bill's cause, and refrained from open conversation with her. I answered a few questions about myself where I didn't have to give up too much information and left plenty of openings for Bill to get a word in as often as she would allow it.
Thankfully, our visit wasn't to last very long. Sherri finally had enough of Bill's interruptions and asked him to leave. "Don't bother calling me any more Bill. I don't want to have anymore to do with you." she told him as she opened the door for us. She then turned and took my hand in hers. "But I'd really like it if you called on me Bob." she said with a smile.
As I walked out of the door I felt a twinge of anger at having been used by both of them that night. Bill used me to help control a bad encounter with Sherri and she used me that night to get her digs in at him. I walked away from that meeting wishing I had let Bill face her alone.
I listened to Bill rant about how she'd been all over me while we were there and how he wished he'd not asked me to come along with him. I didn't say a word. In a sense he got what he had coming to him. And after he dropped me off at my truck I pushed the events of the night out of my mind and gave it as little thought as it deserved afterward.
About two weeks had gone by and I was sitting in the diner where I always had lunch before going to work when I saw her walk through the door. As soon as I recognized her I felt a surge of contempt stir in me as the memories of that night returned. She appeared to be looking for someone and I quickly set my attention to eating my meal before we had the chance to make eye contact.
I was hoping she would find who she was looking for and not come over to my table. After sufficient time had passed and she hadn't come over to my table I finally looked up and found her sitting at the table directly in front of me smiling at me.
As soon as she saw me look up her smile broadened and she waved to me. I reluctantly forced a smile, took another bite of food, then got up and left. I was still hungry, but had no intention of indulging this situation further.
A few days later she turned up again. This time at the pool hall where I enjoyed playing eight ball with a few friends. This time I decided to just ignore her and play my game. She walked over, sat on a stool by the wall, and just stared at me smiling. It was quite disturbing and I finally paid for my game and left.
Over the next few weeks it became obvious she was following me. She began showing up in all the places I liked to hang out. I changed diners and on the second visit found her sitting across the room from me again. I changed my whole routine in effort to avoid her, but to no avail, for every time I looked up there she was.
One night, while waiting in my truck at the Sonic drive-in, I was suddenly aware of someone standing by my door. I knew who it was without having to look, but still I turned my head in her direction just as she tapped on my window.
I rolled the window down without breaking eye contact with her. When she realized I wasn't going to say anything she stated. "I think we need to talk."
"About what?" I asked, trying to use a tone of voice which would make my annoyance with her obvious.
"Well," she said, "I've been wondering why you haven't come to visit me."
"Did you really think I would after that little episode with you and Bill that night?" I asked, watching her eyes carefully.
"Well.... no, I guess I didn't." she replied. "But I hoped you would."
"Excuse me." the waitress said as she stepped up to the car. "Here's your order, sir."
"Thank you." I said, digging for my wallet.
"May I sit with you, in your truck, and talk about it?" She asked while I was fishing some money from my wallet andgave it to the the girl.
I didn't answer at first, but glanced up at her while waiting for my change. As I tucked my change in my pocket I told her to get it.
While I ate she told me stories of how Bill had made several dates with her and then stood her up. She also told of how when he did take her out he was constantly embarrasing her by making such and issue of her size. When she said that I immediately remembered the grimace on her face that night when Bill made his introductions.
After I finished eating and set the window tray on the stand I half expected we would say our goodbyes and she would return to her car. Instead she asked if we could drive around and continue to talk.
We ended up spending most the evening together just talking. I was surprised to discover that she had been married before and recently divorced. She and her husband had lived in Nebraska, which explained why I hadn't seen her around town before.
She told me some stories about her ex-husband, more to explain why they had divorced than anything else. According to her he had taken advantage of her 4' 6" size on many occassions to force her to do things she would rather not describe. Of course my imagination put a lot of things together and I couldn't help but to feel sorry for her.
I finally dropped her back off at her car and went back to the Dee Swift Hotel, an old railroad hotel located just south of the main square in town. That's where I had been living ever since returning to DeQueen Arkansas to get my old job back. I couldn't help feeling troubled about this whole Sherrie issue.
The way she had started stalking me after that first night we met had really annoyed me and yet that evening, her stories, made me feel something for her. I wasn't exactly sure what that was, which is what bothered me the most.
Over the next few weeks I loosened up a bit and when she'd show up at meal times she'd come on over to my table and sit with me. At times she'd show up at the pool hall and play a few games with me and eventually I started accepting invitations to visit her at her home. We did become friends.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Shattered Dreams and Newfound Hopes
It was February, 1977 and I had just been released from the hospital where they had removed a calcium deposit on my left knee. Upon returning to the base at Little Creek Va I was called into the operation officer's office and informed that my endeavor to be taken off the deployment which was about to leave would not hold up. Crutches or not I was still on the list to depart with the rest of my team.
Needless to say I was a bit disturbed by that comment. I had no idea that calcium deposit was on my knee and neither had I planned to have some joker hit it with a hard hat. All I knew was I couldn't walk after that because of the damage done to the muscles of my knee. And, not to mention, I was truly looking forward to going on my first deployment.
During the few days that remained prior to departing on our trip to the Virgin Islands and ultimately a small island off Puerto Rico I was approached by a guy several times warning me of impending doom. He told me that he'd been having a repeat dream that someone was going to die on this trip... even explained to me how it was going to happen. Of course I'd never encountered a true clairvoyant up to that point in my life, so I didn't pay much attention to his rantings. Though I did try to comfort him by telling him that perhaps his dreams were merely a warning that we should all be more alert on this deployment so we could prevent such things from happening. It didn't seem to quell his fears.
The day came and I limped aboard the LST that would be carrying us down to the warm waters of our destination. Of course I was instructed to check in with the Corpsman as soon as I got on board the ship who immediately asked why I was even allowed to go on this trip. "A ship is no place for a gimp leg!" he boldly stated as he plucked a hard hat from under a cabinet and handed it to me. "You're not going to be able to bend down enough get through the hatches without bumping your head, so wear this whenever you're out of your bunk." he told me. Now I'm six foot four inches tall... that's all I needed to do was add another two inches to make me have to duck down more going through those hatches. In the end, though, I did start wearing it. It was better to have a stiff neck than a constant bleeding sore on the top of my head.
The trip down, through the Bermuda Triangle, was quite the experience. Oh, nothing extraordinary happened. It was just the rough waters of that part of the ocean that very nearly beat the crap out of that modified flat bottom ship. They actually bent the shaft on that cruise as a result of pile driving through 20 foot waves for hours on end.
The most enjoyable part of that trip took place when we were allowed to take shore leave on the island of St Croix. Being from the country, seeing the shore line of our own coastal area was quite impressive, but this tropical paradise was like stepping out of reality into an imaginary setting. The giant palm trees and colorful exotic birds were everywhere. And the inhabitants of the island were obviously from all around the world.
Upon leaving there the ship took up the heading for our intended playground, a small island off the main island of Puerto Rico. There we were to take part in a week long simulated beach assault exercise. Being a part of the Amphibious Assault Battalion, we were responsible for establishing a floating peer on a beach that would pose as a debarkation point for all the marines on the LSTs. With their modified flat bottom they were able to maneuver in as little as 12 feet of water under their bow. And to make it work they carried 4 sections of floating peer with them on these exercises. The sections were approximately 30 feet wide by 70 feet long.. (I may be off on those measurements... it's been a long time...LOL)
The sections locked together on the ends by means of T-headed "Dog ears". The day we set them in the water the weather wasn't very abiding... As we worked to marry them together those dog ears started popping off like they were made of plastic. But, trust me, when a two inch thick piece of round metal pops off and zings by your head you learn to duck fast.
We finally got everything under control, but had to string a cable around the perimeter of the combined 4 section peer to assist the remaining dog ears holding it together. Then we beached our peer and anchored in for the offload.
The LSTs had to dock the bow of the boat to the end of the peer then drop the bow ramp so the marines could drive their jeeps, trucks, and tanks off the ship. It was a tricky business. The ships had to drop their stern anchors before docking with the peer so once they were securely tied up they could winch a strain on the anchors to hold the ship still while they were offloading.
Three ships had come and gone without a hitch and the last was on it's way in. As it drew nearer to the peer we all noticed that it was moving a lot faster than any of the others. When it hit the end of the peer it was moving so fast it rode up on top of the first section. But the water was shallow enough that it pinched against the bottom and started driving the rest of the peer up onto the beach. By the time it stopped moving an entire section was laying up on the beach.
We had to call back one of the bulldozers that had offloaded from a previous ship to pile sand up against that end so the ship could offload all it's vehicles. After the offload was complete we worked well into the night trying to get that section back into the water. It took 4 mike boats and 2 bulldozers to finally get it done. Then the bulldozers where ordered to bury the end on the beach to ensure that didn't happen again.
For the next 10 days we did little more than stand our watches and snorkel. My knee hadn't quite healed but the exercise I was getting swimming in the crystal clear water was doing wonders for it. I had never swam in water so clear. It was wonderful. The only thing we really had to watch out for were the sea urchins.
The last day of the exercise came and as we were about to head out on the peer the fella that had been warning me before tried to stop me. "It'll be okay." I told him, "Just keep your eyes peeled and if we all do what we're supposed to be doing no one should get hurt."
With that I stepped onto the peer and kept going. When I looked back I realized he'd turned back. I paused for a moment to watch him as he walked back to the campsite and it appeared he was wiping tears from his eyes. I just couldn't understand why anyone would get so upset over a dream.
The first two ships came and went without a problem. Then came that same ship that had drove the peer up on the beach. Before I knew it the Officer in Charge, which was a Chief Warrant Officer, started yelling into his radio "Slow that damned thing down.... you're coming in too fast again!" But his words went unheeded and the ship was headed for a repeat session. The only problem was.... the other end of the peer was buried under several tons of sand.
This time when the ship hit the peer, after it rode up onto the end section it listed to starboard and the remaining dog ears started popping like the buttons on an old shirt. The peer broke in half and because of the cable started hinging to the ship's port side. I have to give that old Warrant Officer Credit. He didn't panic. In an instant he was barking orders telling people where to move to in order to avoid injury and the mike boats out of harm's way.
At one point he had us all huddled around him, which seemed at the moment the safest place to be until he noticed the straining cable creeping across the deck of the peer toward us. "When I give the word..." he bellowed over the noise "I want everyone to get on the other side of that cable as quickly as possible." He knew it could break in an instant and if we all just stood there too long it could literally take us all out in one fell swoop.
We all watched and waited, it seemed like forever before he finally ordered us to move. Then, being as I was one of the few standing on the outside edge of the crowd I made my move as soon as he barked the order. With one hard step I jumped to clear the cable ......... I didn't feel a thing until the corpsmen started pulling my steel toed boot off my left foot. The pain at that point was unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life. I stayed awake long enough for another corpsman to notice and tell me not to try to open my left eye. "You've lost that one I think." was the last thing I heard him say before I blacked out again.
The next time I came too I was in a hospital bed and there was a naval officer standing over me. He introduced himself as one of the seal team that had been present at the time of the accident and asked if there was anything I wanted or needed. "How many others were hurt?" was the only thing that came to mind.
"You were the only one, son." he told me, and with that I faded back into the darkness.
I was told it was two days later when I awoke again, this time to find my Warrant Officer and Chief Harris standing beside my bed. I managed to stay awake long enough to have a little bit of conversation with the two of them. At that point I really wasn't sure that the first visit from the seal wasn't merely a dream. So I asked again if anyone else was injured when that cable broke.
The Warrant Officer confirmed that I was the only one and I told them I was glad that no one else had to experience the pain I did. Chief Harris clenched his teeth and I thought for a moment there he was going to say something, but he didn't... at least not before I blacked out again.
The next time I woke up I saw my seabag laying on the floor across the room and I suddenly realized I had been left behind.... alone in this hospital.. where ever it was. It made me sick to my stomach and I wanted to cry... and I probably would have if I hadn't faded again.
I'm not sure how many days passed before I finally woke up alert enough to stop a nurse and ask questions. I was told I'd been in a coma for over a week and they had been afraid to move me because of my injuries. The cast on my left leg was the size of a medicine ball bellow the knee. and my right knee was swollen almost twice it's normal size. So when the nurse told me the swelling had gone down a lot I found it almost impossible to believe.
For the next couple of weeks, every time they tried to sit me up or move me I'd black out again. They thought maybe it was a result of the immense swelling in my left leg that allowed too much blood to be drained away from my head... It wasn't until many years later after undergoing an MRI that it was discovered that my neck had been broken in that accident. No wonder I blacked out every time they lifted my head off the pillow.
When the day came that they could actually get me out of bed four corpsmen came to my room with a wheel chair and took me to the doctor's office. I can't remember his name, only that he wasn't very old. But I remember looking dead into his dark brown eyes when he informed me that the panel of orthopedic doctors had concluded that I'd never get out of a wheelchair.
As he slid the medical discharge papers across the top of his desk all I could think about was how I'd almost died twice as a kid and gone through years of being anemic when I was growing up in Texas... but the worst memory was how my father used to look at me... as if I was a worthless piece of equipment that should have been traded or just discarded along the way. He used to tell me that I'd never amount to a hill of beans.... and I suddenly realized I could not go back there.
"Now let me get this straight...." I said, putting my hand on top of the pile of paperwork he wanted me to sign. "If I refuse to sign this... you can't force me to take this discharge can you?"
"Well... no" he replied, and before he had a chance to say anything more I pushed the pile back to him and told those corpsmen to get me to hell out of there.
Of course he stopped them before they could react and asked "Just what do you think you can do in the navy from a wheel chair?"
"I can do anything I set my mind too..." I let him know matter of factly... "And you can find a desk that this wheelchair will fit under and teach me a trade I can make a living with." And again I told those guys to get me out of there. I didn't care to sit and discuss it any further.
As they rolled me out of the room the doc stated that those "desk" jobs were reserved for men coming back off sea duty.... to which I replied... "Well, sir, I've only got 3 years left to serve in this man's navy.. I suggest you figure something out!"
Once I was back in my room I requested a phone to be brought in so I could make a call. The only person I cared to talk to at that moment was of course my mother. I surprised myself at how well I held myself together during our conversation... it must have been the anger I was still feeling that helped.
I told her what the doctor had said and got even more angry when I heard her break down and cry on the other end of the phone. Not angry with her... but more at my life... I had been the cause for so much worry and concern for this poor woman and here I was doing it again.
"Mom... "
"Yes son." her voice a mere whisper
"You still believe in prayer and miracles don't you?" I asked.
"Yes son I do." she replied.
"Then offer up your best one." I told her.. then added, "Cause I'm not about to give into this claim."
She promised she would and we talked for a little longer before she had to get off the phone. These collect calls from Puerto Rico were costing her a lot... and if Dad ever found out she was accepting them from me he'd hit the roof.
As I placed the handset back in it's cradle I couldn't hold it any longer. The tears flowed. The two other guys that shared that room with me said nothing.. not even to each other as I laid there and sobbed. I ran out of tears at some point in the middle of the night but still couldn't sleep. All my hopes and dreams of someday proving to my father that I wasn't worthless had just been dashed against the rocks. 'He was right and didn't even know it!" I thought to myself... just before I finally dozed off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.
Around 0800 I was awakened by the same four corpsmen that had fetched me the day before. Once again they placed me in a wheelchair and carted me off to the doctor's office. As they rolled me through his office door I announce that nothing had changed and I still wasn't signing any discharge papers.
The doc looked ragged... and when he informed me that he hadn't slept since our encounter the previous day I told him "Good! But I bet you didn't spend all night crying your eyes out in front of fellow shipmates did ya?" It bothered me that I couldn't hold it in the night before.
The discussion quickly turned to experimental castings.. and possibly re breaking my leg in order to try to make it heal well enough so I could possibly walk again. Naturally I refused to let him break my leg again.. and we started discussing alternative experimental treatments that might work for me.
For nine months I was in those casts. The muscles of my left leg had dwindled to little more than the size of my forearm by the time they finally came off. But my back was strong. I'd been rowing a sixteen foot row boat 5 miles a day for the last 4 months. And my determination was even stronger. The doctor's prognosis went from never out of a wheelchair to never off crutches... then it was I'd always have to use a cane...
I would have liked to seen the looks on their faces when I passed the physical and signed the papers to stay in for another hitch. There's not a day since that I haven't dealt with some degree of pain... I refuse to submit myself to the lure of pain pills... I've met too many people who've become hooked on them and many have destroyed what lives they did have as a result of it.
I haven't become a millionaire... nor do I have a prestigious job with a grand title... But you know what Dad... I'm proud of who I am and that I'm still here and able to put two good feet on the floor every morning when I wake. He'll never read this... we haven't talked in over 10 years, and we probably never will again.
Needless to say I was a bit disturbed by that comment. I had no idea that calcium deposit was on my knee and neither had I planned to have some joker hit it with a hard hat. All I knew was I couldn't walk after that because of the damage done to the muscles of my knee. And, not to mention, I was truly looking forward to going on my first deployment.
During the few days that remained prior to departing on our trip to the Virgin Islands and ultimately a small island off Puerto Rico I was approached by a guy several times warning me of impending doom. He told me that he'd been having a repeat dream that someone was going to die on this trip... even explained to me how it was going to happen. Of course I'd never encountered a true clairvoyant up to that point in my life, so I didn't pay much attention to his rantings. Though I did try to comfort him by telling him that perhaps his dreams were merely a warning that we should all be more alert on this deployment so we could prevent such things from happening. It didn't seem to quell his fears.
The day came and I limped aboard the LST that would be carrying us down to the warm waters of our destination. Of course I was instructed to check in with the Corpsman as soon as I got on board the ship who immediately asked why I was even allowed to go on this trip. "A ship is no place for a gimp leg!" he boldly stated as he plucked a hard hat from under a cabinet and handed it to me. "You're not going to be able to bend down enough get through the hatches without bumping your head, so wear this whenever you're out of your bunk." he told me. Now I'm six foot four inches tall... that's all I needed to do was add another two inches to make me have to duck down more going through those hatches. In the end, though, I did start wearing it. It was better to have a stiff neck than a constant bleeding sore on the top of my head.
The trip down, through the Bermuda Triangle, was quite the experience. Oh, nothing extraordinary happened. It was just the rough waters of that part of the ocean that very nearly beat the crap out of that modified flat bottom ship. They actually bent the shaft on that cruise as a result of pile driving through 20 foot waves for hours on end.
The most enjoyable part of that trip took place when we were allowed to take shore leave on the island of St Croix. Being from the country, seeing the shore line of our own coastal area was quite impressive, but this tropical paradise was like stepping out of reality into an imaginary setting. The giant palm trees and colorful exotic birds were everywhere. And the inhabitants of the island were obviously from all around the world.
Upon leaving there the ship took up the heading for our intended playground, a small island off the main island of Puerto Rico. There we were to take part in a week long simulated beach assault exercise. Being a part of the Amphibious Assault Battalion, we were responsible for establishing a floating peer on a beach that would pose as a debarkation point for all the marines on the LSTs. With their modified flat bottom they were able to maneuver in as little as 12 feet of water under their bow. And to make it work they carried 4 sections of floating peer with them on these exercises. The sections were approximately 30 feet wide by 70 feet long.. (I may be off on those measurements... it's been a long time...LOL)
The sections locked together on the ends by means of T-headed "Dog ears". The day we set them in the water the weather wasn't very abiding... As we worked to marry them together those dog ears started popping off like they were made of plastic. But, trust me, when a two inch thick piece of round metal pops off and zings by your head you learn to duck fast.
We finally got everything under control, but had to string a cable around the perimeter of the combined 4 section peer to assist the remaining dog ears holding it together. Then we beached our peer and anchored in for the offload.
The LSTs had to dock the bow of the boat to the end of the peer then drop the bow ramp so the marines could drive their jeeps, trucks, and tanks off the ship. It was a tricky business. The ships had to drop their stern anchors before docking with the peer so once they were securely tied up they could winch a strain on the anchors to hold the ship still while they were offloading.
Three ships had come and gone without a hitch and the last was on it's way in. As it drew nearer to the peer we all noticed that it was moving a lot faster than any of the others. When it hit the end of the peer it was moving so fast it rode up on top of the first section. But the water was shallow enough that it pinched against the bottom and started driving the rest of the peer up onto the beach. By the time it stopped moving an entire section was laying up on the beach.
We had to call back one of the bulldozers that had offloaded from a previous ship to pile sand up against that end so the ship could offload all it's vehicles. After the offload was complete we worked well into the night trying to get that section back into the water. It took 4 mike boats and 2 bulldozers to finally get it done. Then the bulldozers where ordered to bury the end on the beach to ensure that didn't happen again.
For the next 10 days we did little more than stand our watches and snorkel. My knee hadn't quite healed but the exercise I was getting swimming in the crystal clear water was doing wonders for it. I had never swam in water so clear. It was wonderful. The only thing we really had to watch out for were the sea urchins.
The last day of the exercise came and as we were about to head out on the peer the fella that had been warning me before tried to stop me. "It'll be okay." I told him, "Just keep your eyes peeled and if we all do what we're supposed to be doing no one should get hurt."
With that I stepped onto the peer and kept going. When I looked back I realized he'd turned back. I paused for a moment to watch him as he walked back to the campsite and it appeared he was wiping tears from his eyes. I just couldn't understand why anyone would get so upset over a dream.
The first two ships came and went without a problem. Then came that same ship that had drove the peer up on the beach. Before I knew it the Officer in Charge, which was a Chief Warrant Officer, started yelling into his radio "Slow that damned thing down.... you're coming in too fast again!" But his words went unheeded and the ship was headed for a repeat session. The only problem was.... the other end of the peer was buried under several tons of sand.
This time when the ship hit the peer, after it rode up onto the end section it listed to starboard and the remaining dog ears started popping like the buttons on an old shirt. The peer broke in half and because of the cable started hinging to the ship's port side. I have to give that old Warrant Officer Credit. He didn't panic. In an instant he was barking orders telling people where to move to in order to avoid injury and the mike boats out of harm's way.
At one point he had us all huddled around him, which seemed at the moment the safest place to be until he noticed the straining cable creeping across the deck of the peer toward us. "When I give the word..." he bellowed over the noise "I want everyone to get on the other side of that cable as quickly as possible." He knew it could break in an instant and if we all just stood there too long it could literally take us all out in one fell swoop.
We all watched and waited, it seemed like forever before he finally ordered us to move. Then, being as I was one of the few standing on the outside edge of the crowd I made my move as soon as he barked the order. With one hard step I jumped to clear the cable ......... I didn't feel a thing until the corpsmen started pulling my steel toed boot off my left foot. The pain at that point was unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life. I stayed awake long enough for another corpsman to notice and tell me not to try to open my left eye. "You've lost that one I think." was the last thing I heard him say before I blacked out again.
The next time I came too I was in a hospital bed and there was a naval officer standing over me. He introduced himself as one of the seal team that had been present at the time of the accident and asked if there was anything I wanted or needed. "How many others were hurt?" was the only thing that came to mind.
"You were the only one, son." he told me, and with that I faded back into the darkness.
I was told it was two days later when I awoke again, this time to find my Warrant Officer and Chief Harris standing beside my bed. I managed to stay awake long enough to have a little bit of conversation with the two of them. At that point I really wasn't sure that the first visit from the seal wasn't merely a dream. So I asked again if anyone else was injured when that cable broke.
The Warrant Officer confirmed that I was the only one and I told them I was glad that no one else had to experience the pain I did. Chief Harris clenched his teeth and I thought for a moment there he was going to say something, but he didn't... at least not before I blacked out again.
The next time I woke up I saw my seabag laying on the floor across the room and I suddenly realized I had been left behind.... alone in this hospital.. where ever it was. It made me sick to my stomach and I wanted to cry... and I probably would have if I hadn't faded again.
I'm not sure how many days passed before I finally woke up alert enough to stop a nurse and ask questions. I was told I'd been in a coma for over a week and they had been afraid to move me because of my injuries. The cast on my left leg was the size of a medicine ball bellow the knee. and my right knee was swollen almost twice it's normal size. So when the nurse told me the swelling had gone down a lot I found it almost impossible to believe.
For the next couple of weeks, every time they tried to sit me up or move me I'd black out again. They thought maybe it was a result of the immense swelling in my left leg that allowed too much blood to be drained away from my head... It wasn't until many years later after undergoing an MRI that it was discovered that my neck had been broken in that accident. No wonder I blacked out every time they lifted my head off the pillow.
When the day came that they could actually get me out of bed four corpsmen came to my room with a wheel chair and took me to the doctor's office. I can't remember his name, only that he wasn't very old. But I remember looking dead into his dark brown eyes when he informed me that the panel of orthopedic doctors had concluded that I'd never get out of a wheelchair.
As he slid the medical discharge papers across the top of his desk all I could think about was how I'd almost died twice as a kid and gone through years of being anemic when I was growing up in Texas... but the worst memory was how my father used to look at me... as if I was a worthless piece of equipment that should have been traded or just discarded along the way. He used to tell me that I'd never amount to a hill of beans.... and I suddenly realized I could not go back there.
"Now let me get this straight...." I said, putting my hand on top of the pile of paperwork he wanted me to sign. "If I refuse to sign this... you can't force me to take this discharge can you?"
"Well... no" he replied, and before he had a chance to say anything more I pushed the pile back to him and told those corpsmen to get me to hell out of there.
Of course he stopped them before they could react and asked "Just what do you think you can do in the navy from a wheel chair?"
"I can do anything I set my mind too..." I let him know matter of factly... "And you can find a desk that this wheelchair will fit under and teach me a trade I can make a living with." And again I told those guys to get me out of there. I didn't care to sit and discuss it any further.
As they rolled me out of the room the doc stated that those "desk" jobs were reserved for men coming back off sea duty.... to which I replied... "Well, sir, I've only got 3 years left to serve in this man's navy.. I suggest you figure something out!"
Once I was back in my room I requested a phone to be brought in so I could make a call. The only person I cared to talk to at that moment was of course my mother. I surprised myself at how well I held myself together during our conversation... it must have been the anger I was still feeling that helped.
I told her what the doctor had said and got even more angry when I heard her break down and cry on the other end of the phone. Not angry with her... but more at my life... I had been the cause for so much worry and concern for this poor woman and here I was doing it again.
"Mom... "
"Yes son." her voice a mere whisper
"You still believe in prayer and miracles don't you?" I asked.
"Yes son I do." she replied.
"Then offer up your best one." I told her.. then added, "Cause I'm not about to give into this claim."
She promised she would and we talked for a little longer before she had to get off the phone. These collect calls from Puerto Rico were costing her a lot... and if Dad ever found out she was accepting them from me he'd hit the roof.
As I placed the handset back in it's cradle I couldn't hold it any longer. The tears flowed. The two other guys that shared that room with me said nothing.. not even to each other as I laid there and sobbed. I ran out of tears at some point in the middle of the night but still couldn't sleep. All my hopes and dreams of someday proving to my father that I wasn't worthless had just been dashed against the rocks. 'He was right and didn't even know it!" I thought to myself... just before I finally dozed off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.
Around 0800 I was awakened by the same four corpsmen that had fetched me the day before. Once again they placed me in a wheelchair and carted me off to the doctor's office. As they rolled me through his office door I announce that nothing had changed and I still wasn't signing any discharge papers.
The doc looked ragged... and when he informed me that he hadn't slept since our encounter the previous day I told him "Good! But I bet you didn't spend all night crying your eyes out in front of fellow shipmates did ya?" It bothered me that I couldn't hold it in the night before.
The discussion quickly turned to experimental castings.. and possibly re breaking my leg in order to try to make it heal well enough so I could possibly walk again. Naturally I refused to let him break my leg again.. and we started discussing alternative experimental treatments that might work for me.
For nine months I was in those casts. The muscles of my left leg had dwindled to little more than the size of my forearm by the time they finally came off. But my back was strong. I'd been rowing a sixteen foot row boat 5 miles a day for the last 4 months. And my determination was even stronger. The doctor's prognosis went from never out of a wheelchair to never off crutches... then it was I'd always have to use a cane...
I would have liked to seen the looks on their faces when I passed the physical and signed the papers to stay in for another hitch. There's not a day since that I haven't dealt with some degree of pain... I refuse to submit myself to the lure of pain pills... I've met too many people who've become hooked on them and many have destroyed what lives they did have as a result of it.
I haven't become a millionaire... nor do I have a prestigious job with a grand title... But you know what Dad... I'm proud of who I am and that I'm still here and able to put two good feet on the floor every morning when I wake. He'll never read this... we haven't talked in over 10 years, and we probably never will again.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
The rock face extends high above the tops of the trees that stand at it's base. Dave and I used to go up to McKinley Rock and just sit on top looking out over the surrounding mountain tops. It truly was a peaceful place to sit and ponder.I returned to McKinley Rock once after Dave and I finally went our separate ways. He always hated the thought of growing up. To him it meant taking on responsibilities and having to deal with daily obligations which keep one from the simple pleasures in life.
The wind was blowing so hard that day I'd decided several times to turn around and head for home. A couple of those times I actually stopped, turned, and stared back down the trail before turning back to continue on. I knew I probably wouldn't be able to go up to our favorite sitting place on top of the rocks without being blown off.
Upon reaching McKinley Rock I walked around the base of the massive outcropping. The picture at the top of the page is just one of many that could be taken without overlapping shots. It was taken by an old school mate of mine not very long ago. When I saw the pictures on his homepage it made me think of that day.
The southeastern side of the rock actually emerges from the mountain top at about a 45 degree slant. (maybe a little less) But it's normally easy to scale that side up to the top. I finally made my way around and stood there daring myself to go up. I guess what finally made the decision for me was when I thought of Dave and how he'd likely just bolt on up the side, and the fact that he wasn't there because he'd taken on those responsibilities and obligations of life. It was then that I knew if I didn't go up there I may never get another chance... because my own life was knocking at my door.
The wind was stronger than I'd ever experienced it at the Rock... It wasn't a gusting wind, which was probably a very good thing. As it was I was having to stand leaning so heavily into it, to keep it from blowing me backward, I didn't even have to extend my arms out fully to lay my hand flat on it's surface. It was almost like climbing up the face of a cliff. Each new step had to find a purchase to catch the toe of my shoe in.
I made it all the way up to our sitting spot on the northwesterly edge and literally poked my head out over the edge while my feet were still almost a full body length away from it. I stood there for a while, with a hand on the rock surface bracing me, feeling the full force of the wind almost holding me in place.
I noticed the shadow of a large bird slowly moving across the tops of the trees down below and when I raised my head to look up the wind caught me and blew me backwards several yards. It scared the crap out of me, but as I started moving back to where I was originally standing I started playing with that wind. It was so steady I found if I let my arms drop back along my sides and cupped my hands against the force of the wind I could actually maintain my stance without much fear of falling flat on my face.
With this new found skill I slowly moved up to the edge again. Only this time I eased out farther than before. It was scary at first, but I made sure I had enough of the surface still under me that I could catch myself should the wind let up enough to let me fall forward. As long as I kept my head into the wind and didn't try to look up I was able to control myself with ease.
Little by little I began to inch my feet closer to the edge... and my body farther out over the tree tops below. My confidence was building with each new step I took closer. I had to adjust the position of my hands a couple of times as more of my body extended out over the edge of the cliff and catching more of the wind deflecting off the rocky face.
Finally, with little more than my feet and ankles still on top of the rock I decided I could control myself enough to step out over the edge and stand on the face of the cliff wall. Thinking back, I have to say it was a truly stupid thing to do, but at least I'm still here to think back on that day.
With one foot placed over the edge I paused for a moment. "You could die here." I told myself. "It's a long way down." Then, with the sudden realization that, while I stood there with one foot over the edge and the other still wedged against a small raised edge on the top, I could already have made my last mistake. What difference would it make if I took that last step?
I eased my right foot out and found placement for it where I felt securely balanced. The mere idea that I was where I was filled me with a sense of awe and anxiety. If the wind let up even the slightest I would plunge down through the tops of those trees below and possibly die before I even hit the ground.
Instead of fearful thoughts running through my mind, I found myself ponder such things as... Is this what it feels like to sky dive? and... This is probably as close to experiencing the feeling of personal flight as I'll ever get aside from the cliff diving experience I'd had. And while I was relishing that thought I saw the shadow of that massive bird again.
My first impulse was to look up to find him but I remembered the first time I'd done that. I had to accept the fact that I could only watch the shadow move along the tops of the trees. "Is this what it feels like to fly?" I even asked aloud.
Almost instantly, as if in answer to my question, the wind faltered. I felt my weight begin to fall through the wind. "Oh God!" I yelled, realizing what was happening, and adjust my arms and hands in effort to catch more of the wind that remained. As I threw my head back, I saw the eagle still hovering on the wind above me. Suddenly the wind gusted even harder than it had blown before. I don't know if it was because of the position of my head, which had caused me to be thrown back before, or simply the hand of God... but as my feet left the face of that cliff I was hurled backwards with such force that I landed approximately 25 feet from the edge.
I hit so hard it took my breath away and with such momentum I rolled nearly half way down that slanted side before I was able to stop myself.
I laid there for a long time while catching my breath and feeling for the bruises I knew I'd sport for days as a reminder of my arrogance. But there was a new sense of assurance to my life. A memory of an event that no one would likely believe really took place, because.... why would anyone in their right mind step over the edge like that?
I did... and if I could write with words that could make your heart race and your emotions flare as mine did that day perhaps you'd truly believe me... but for today I'll have to accept that perchance you at least enjoyed the reading.
Benwar
Thursday, November 5, 2009
I don't wanna let "The Storyteller" take all my time
"The Storyteller" is half truth and half fiction in that the dream really happened... just old Ben and Allen's Pub is totally fiction. I wanted to be able to deliver the story in such a way as to enable me to privilege of indulging in an underlying theme.
But that is just one story I want to tell... there are many personal experiences I wish to convey that are more "everyday life" stories. At least they were to me. Like the time when I stepped over the edge of the cliff and was held in place by the strength of the wind, or some of my navy experiences. There are stories from my youth that don't seem so confusing anymore.... tho I wonder if you won't find them to be so.
That's what this blog is all about... telling my story... whether you wish to believe it or not. It all happened.
But that is just one story I want to tell... there are many personal experiences I wish to convey that are more "everyday life" stories. At least they were to me. Like the time when I stepped over the edge of the cliff and was held in place by the strength of the wind, or some of my navy experiences. There are stories from my youth that don't seem so confusing anymore.... tho I wonder if you won't find them to be so.
That's what this blog is all about... telling my story... whether you wish to believe it or not. It all happened.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The Storyteller (Part four)
He took another long drink and remained silent for a moment while staring into his glass. "This is where it really starts getting weird." he finally said with a chuckle. "When I came too..." he flashed a silly grin at me, "I found myself laying under what I thought was a pile of blankets."
"I started trying to crawl out when I realized I was completely naked under there." he continued. "I was still disoriented and couldn't understand why I would be laying naked under such a huge pile of blankets."
"I began to panic when I realized I couldn't just poke my head out from under the covers." he said. "Finally I gave in to the increasingly urgent need to escape and rolled over and started crawling on my hands and knees."
"When my head did pop out into the open air I slowly got to me feet." he paused and lifted his almost empty glass.
After a moment he sat his glass back on the table and turned turned in his chair to look at me. "I was still there." he said, "Standing in the collar of my shirt and coat."
"Standing where?" I asked, trying to visualize what he was telling me.
"I had somehow shrunk to only a few inches tall." he said wide eyed. "And I was standing in the collar of my shirt staring down the length of my cloths. It was like looking across a football field at a huge pair of boots laying on the ground."
I laughed at the visual he produced in my mind's eye. Only it was me standing there buck naked looking across a pile of giant cloths at a huge pair of boots.
"It really wasn't funny." Ben raised his voice a little, bringing me back to the moment.
"Sorry." I said, "I was just trying to visualize you standing there naked in the collar of your shirt."
He took a small sip of his drink and glanced at me from the corner of his eye.
"So what did you do then?" I asked."Weren't you cold?"
"I really hadn't noticed being cold yet." he replied. "I was just so mesmerized by it all."
"I turned to find my ball cap laying upside down. It was so large I could have used it as a tent if it had landed right side up." he laughed. "And that berry bush... it was larger than the largest oak I've seen."
I could just imagine how large that bush seemed... and the trees that stood around it must have been gigantic. I've never seen the giant redwoods but I can imagine the trees, from his perspective, had to appear to be much larger.
"I started trying to crawl out when I realized I was completely naked under there." he continued. "I was still disoriented and couldn't understand why I would be laying naked under such a huge pile of blankets."
"I began to panic when I realized I couldn't just poke my head out from under the covers." he said. "Finally I gave in to the increasingly urgent need to escape and rolled over and started crawling on my hands and knees."
"When my head did pop out into the open air I slowly got to me feet." he paused and lifted his almost empty glass.
After a moment he sat his glass back on the table and turned turned in his chair to look at me. "I was still there." he said, "Standing in the collar of my shirt and coat."
"Standing where?" I asked, trying to visualize what he was telling me.
"I had somehow shrunk to only a few inches tall." he said wide eyed. "And I was standing in the collar of my shirt staring down the length of my cloths. It was like looking across a football field at a huge pair of boots laying on the ground."
I laughed at the visual he produced in my mind's eye. Only it was me standing there buck naked looking across a pile of giant cloths at a huge pair of boots.
"It really wasn't funny." Ben raised his voice a little, bringing me back to the moment.
"Sorry." I said, "I was just trying to visualize you standing there naked in the collar of your shirt."
He took a small sip of his drink and glanced at me from the corner of his eye.
"So what did you do then?" I asked."Weren't you cold?"
"I really hadn't noticed being cold yet." he replied. "I was just so mesmerized by it all."
"I turned to find my ball cap laying upside down. It was so large I could have used it as a tent if it had landed right side up." he laughed. "And that berry bush... it was larger than the largest oak I've seen."
I could just imagine how large that bush seemed... and the trees that stood around it must have been gigantic. I've never seen the giant redwoods but I can imagine the trees, from his perspective, had to appear to be much larger.
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