I lied. Not going to tell you about my time in Flow Rida just yet. Important lessons learned in Flow Rida, including the first and only time I had a gun pointed at me, but that story comes later. I realized the time when my roots in small town started to grow, and that's an important part of this story, so we need to visit this first.
I'm not exactly sure why we moved from Circle Dr in "The City" to Small Town. The first of my memories of this move were, again my Dad and I go figure, on a dark snowy night. Not really sure why we were going to the new farm house, but we were. Driving along minding our own business and Dad pulled over in the middle of nowhere, right past a small creek type bridge. I was 7 or 8 years old at the time.
"Why are we stopping Dad?"
"The car behind us just went off the road. Sit tight, stay in the truck, DO NOT get out!"
All of a sudden, Dad gets out and RUNS behind the truck. Not sure what happened at the time. But pretty soon there were fire trucks and an ambulance, more red lights than you could count. This was pre cell phone days, so I have no idea how Dad called for help, but he did. Pretty sure this is when my young mind embraced the fire service and the desire to help others. I found out a few day later what had happened. Roads were horrible, I had no idea because my Dad was a race car driver, and we were in a truck. Lady behind us lost control and went off the road right before the bridge and ended up in the water. My Dad, was waist deep in the creek holding her head above water, literally until help arrived. I didn't realize it until decades later, that this is what I would do for a living. I remember the first time I was allowed in Small Town's firetruck in a parade with my Dad driving!
Years later, as my Dad was ending his career as a Volunteer Firefighter with Small Town FD, and I was just beginning mine as a Union firefighter in Big City, it worked out that we fought a grass fire together. I was literally hanging on the back bumper of a fire truck with my Dad. Just a grass fire, but that was a highlight of my life that I will take to my grave. I was old school on the back of a fire truck with the man that taught me so much. I can still smell the smoke, the truck exhaust, the "smell" of a grass fire. Not to mention, that particular fire truck would become famous!
Shortly after this my next memories are again of my Dad. We bought an old farm house on "Peace" Rd. We actually had to use the outhouse! My Dad busted his ass to bring that farm house up to speed, and eventually we had indoor plumbing, a new second floor, and a place to call home. We soon added a garden, farm animals once pens were built, and new friends. This is where I laid the foundation of who I am now, although I didn't realize it at the time.
I soon made quick friends on the "block" which was literally 1 mile long. Mike lived next to my real grandparents, Kerry, Dan and Dave lived in between. What an adventure we were about to have.
We bought dirt bikes, built a baseball field, played war in the woods, and even built a "luge" run in the woods behind Dan & Dave's house in the winter. We explored every inch of those woods, and shot at each other with BB guns while playing "war." We learned what wrenches were for, we learned what friends were, we learned how to take care of ourselves and each other. We learned that Dad not being home simply meant that he was busting his ass at work to provide for his family.
When Dad WAS home, he was teaching us to take care of ourselves. How else would Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn learn how to hunt/fish/trap, fix tractors, build go karts, rafts and models of famous roller coasters? We worked hard, that's what we learned from our parents. We bailed hay. We bailed hay for neighbors for a small fee of $20 and a tall glass if iced tea.
We did "OK" in school, but those few hours after the homework was done is when we learned about life, and how to be good men.
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