Bad Medicine
It's super simple yet complicated. So is everything in life. The key is to make the complicated simple! Simple, right? Or is that make the simple complicated? Or simple?
WAIT A SECOND!!! THAT'S A V-8 DIESEL RUNNING ON ALCOHOL!!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8-xkrL-iVg
Do you automatically make simple things complicated? I call that "drama", but drama is a time for another blog. Not now. Do you want to make complicated things, "simple"? I call that "Life."
The key here is to make what seems "complicated" simple in your life. By adding complicated things. Complicated things are nothing more than things in your life that are out of your comfort zone. As I have said before, the only, the ONLY way to improve your life is to learn new things. The only way to learn new things.... is way over there. Out of your comfort zone. So if there is something "complicated" in your life right now, lets add more. We're gonna add YOU out of your comfort zone to add positive to the situation.
Its that simple. Embrace the complicated things in your life, its a way of learning. Add YOU from the unknown. Out of the comfort zone, That situation is no longer complicated. NEXT!!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U78Ji5vXInw
Karma gives the real battles to the warriors.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Year 26, Day 1
25 years ago today, The City of Struthers thought it would be a good idea to hire me as a firefighter. What an incredible journey its been, I hope they still believe that was a good decision.
Back in 1990, I was a young man full of energy, but lacking on fire service knowledge. Thankfully I was surrounded by others willing to mentor and teach. Over the years, I've grown as a person and as a firefighter. I've been a leader, an instructor, a role model. I'll never be a master of my craft, but will always keep striving to be.
Over the past 25 years, I've seen so many things. Some I'd like to forget, but most I will cherish for the rest of my days. If you're from "Outer Space" (What I call people NOT in the fire service) there are no words to describe The Brotherhood, I'm not even going to attempt to. My second family. The people I've met, the places this job has taken me, the opportunities it has afforded me. Hopefully I've been a mentor to a few of my Brothers, I know for sure I've learned more from them than I could give back in three fire service careers.
Today I find myself much older, hopefully much wiser and way down on the energy side of this business. I realized how the tables have turned, and how I'm now an "old timer" teaching the next generation of firefighters the art of our craft. Again I'm thankful to be surrounded, but this time by firefighters willing to listen and learn. I've always been a student, and will be until they put me in the ground.
I assure you, this is not a "farewell" letter. Its a THANK YOU! Thank you for putting your faith and trust in me to be there when you needed me. Thank you for skills, tools, and knowledge you have given me.
I can't wait to see what's next!
Back in 1990, I was a young man full of energy, but lacking on fire service knowledge. Thankfully I was surrounded by others willing to mentor and teach. Over the years, I've grown as a person and as a firefighter. I've been a leader, an instructor, a role model. I'll never be a master of my craft, but will always keep striving to be.
Over the past 25 years, I've seen so many things. Some I'd like to forget, but most I will cherish for the rest of my days. If you're from "Outer Space" (What I call people NOT in the fire service) there are no words to describe The Brotherhood, I'm not even going to attempt to. My second family. The people I've met, the places this job has taken me, the opportunities it has afforded me. Hopefully I've been a mentor to a few of my Brothers, I know for sure I've learned more from them than I could give back in three fire service careers.
Today I find myself much older, hopefully much wiser and way down on the energy side of this business. I realized how the tables have turned, and how I'm now an "old timer" teaching the next generation of firefighters the art of our craft. Again I'm thankful to be surrounded, but this time by firefighters willing to listen and learn. I've always been a student, and will be until they put me in the ground.
I assure you, this is not a "farewell" letter. Its a THANK YOU! Thank you for putting your faith and trust in me to be there when you needed me. Thank you for skills, tools, and knowledge you have given me.
I can't wait to see what's next!
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
The Legend of Carl Dog
Although we already had Dusty Dog, I felt it wasn't fair to leave her home alone so much, as both kids were in school, and my wife and I both worked crazy hours. So I went to see him, and was strictly thinking of finding Dusty a friend. As soon as I met him, he loved me. And I loved him.
Carlin Douglas came to live with us that day, and quickly became part of our family. He and Dusty became fast friends and were inseperable. We named him after George Carlin, and just called him Carl for short. Because who would name a dog George?? That's ridiculous.
His name and personality quickly fit together like an acorn in a chipmunk's mouth. He developed many nicknames such as, Carlos, Carl, Carl from Campbell, Car-Hole (because he really was an asshole sometimes!) Cizzarl Dizzog, Dammit Carl, and the most used CARLDOG. It was almost impossible to just call him Carl.
A few years later, my family found ourselves in a huge predicament. We had to move. Not going in to deatils, its not important. The years had been hard on Ole Crusty Rusty Dusty dog, she had arthritis and could barely stand up on her own. Carlin would actually help her get up sometimes. So it was decided that we would leave our beloved neighbors, and start again at our new home. Without pets. Typing this story reminds me of the pain I felt having to put Ole Dusty Dog down, and we put Carlin up for adoption.
The kids were NOT OK with this decision, and kept asking what happened to Carl. After what seemed like a million phone calls, I finally got someone at the dog pound to breech protocol and she actually told me Carl was adopted by a family with a farm in Brookfield. The kids were OK with that story, and we continued life as a family, adapting to our new home and life without pets. Things progressed as expected for a few months, and we became accustomed to our new surroundings.
One day while I was working on the race car, I can remember what clothes I was wearing! My wife calls me.
"Hey Hon, I just got a phone call from one of our old neighbors. Do you remember Mike?"
"Yeah, why?"
"He just called me and said that Carl is on our old back porch."
"Wait. WHAT?"
"Yes, Carl Dog is on our old back porch. What should I do?"
"You go see if it really is Carl. If it is, you bring his ass home! If he wants to be with us THAT bad, well then he will be!"
"OK. I'll let you know."
"Hon? Carl is here. He's scared, looks like shit, but he's here. He's really here.! It's really Carl Dog!"
"Bring his orange ass home, I'll be there in a few."
The damn dog chewed through his leash to get free. It was POURING down rain that whole weekend. Tornado warnings in all 3 counties. 14 miles, and two major highways to get past. He did it. He wanted to be with us THAT bad!
Carl Dog decided he wanted US as his family. My wife brought him home. HOME. He chose us, he knew where his home was.
The next day, I was on duty at the fire station, We felt it wasn't good to leave him in a new place, after all he just went through. So Carl worked a shift at the fire station. Gave him a bath behind the fire truck. This is when I noticed the pads on his feet were worn from walking on concrete. He had worn his nails down to the point that a few of them were bleeding. He was cold, wet, tired, sore, scared, and miserable. And happy. He slept so hard that day, he snored.
His tail was wagging, because he was with me. He chose us to be his family. I was happy to be with him.
Hanging on the wall in our home, I have his leash from Brookfield and a story. I won't point it out, and its not in an obvious location. But if you ask, I will sure as hell tell you his story!
"Don't Quit"
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging on seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit--
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a person turns about
When they might have won, had they stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow---
You might succed with another blow.
You might succed with another blow.
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup;
And he learned too late whe the night came down
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out----
Its pressing on past fear and doubt--
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit:
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit!!!
During the following months, Cizzarl got accustomed to our new house, and the changes that had happened while he was away. He was an ass, and would escape every chance he got. He absolutely KNEW how to open the screen door on the deck! Unless you were watching! Then all of a sudden he got "stupid." He would play "deaf", he would play "blind." If it benefitted him.
We didn't know where he went when he escaped for a while. We would drive around looking for him. Jerri, our old neighbor called my wife one day. Carl is sitting on your old back porch howling. I think he's looking for Dusty.
Something as simple as peeing on a phone pole made him so happy. He chose us as a family, and he went through hell to be with us.
Lessons learned from an animal that didn't judge. An animal that showed us what unconditional love was. An animal that was happy to be with his family. An animal that was part of our family.
Nose in the wind my friend, My Carl Dog.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Small Town: Flo Rida!
Whistle!
OK, this is SO not my style of music, but it happens to be my favorite "Flo Rida" song, and that's what this blog in my Small Town series is about. My time in Florida.
Like I said earlier, my father went where the work was, at this time he was a big shot at Caterpillar, and they needed someone to get a new shop in Florida running. So off we went!
Started off in Clewiston which is on the south end of Lake Okeechobee. That's the giant lake you see on ANY map of Florida. Man made lake to hide ships during WWII. I learned a lot about different cultures, manatees and BASS FISHING! We didn't spend a lot of time in Clewiston, and to this day I'm not sure why. But that's OK. Oh boy was that OK!!!
We ended up in Cape Coral FL. Yeah, let's take a 17 year old boy to the Gulf Coast full of sand, bikinis, and as I like to call it opportunity!
I drove my first ever vehicle down there, a 1978 Chevy truck. Bought a cap, and loaded all kinds of stuff in the back. Pulled into the driveway on South East 40th Terrace and hit my "La Cucaracha" horn! I'm a redneck from Small Town Ohio, remember? I was kind of a bum for a while, then decided I needed to be a part of this lifestyle I knew NOTHING about.
Little did I know when I played La Cucaracha, that we were literally the ONLY family on the street that weren't millionaires! LITERALLY! Not a huge deal, Dad and I made fast friends, and soon we were working on yachts on our dock in the back yard. I quickly learned the art of salt water fishing, I'd go every night 40' from my back door in the canal. Making some money, not really doing much of anything.
Then the evil world of girls showed up.
I was getting gas in my farm truck one night, dressed in work boots and a flannel. This young blond pulls up in a 380 ZX at the next pump (Purely paraphrase here, I don't remember the car. SHE was HOT, I remember that!) and instantly laughed at me. That hurts. Time to change things to fit my environment. Spent the next 2 weeks working on the truck, just to get more trade in value.
Traded my 1978 Chevy Farm Truck and whole persona in on a (Farmer wasn't cool back then, this was 1987) new style. 1980 Ford Mustang Cobra!
Got a job as an over night maintenance man at McDonald's. Cobra taught me about turbos, of course Dad already knew about them, so we spent a few nights in the garage working on my Cheez-Whiz orange Mustang. Holy shit did that thing scream bloody murder when we were done!!!
I'd go to work at 10:30 PM at McDonald's. Manager would leave at 11:00, store was closed, lock me in. I literally had my own McDonald's at my own disposal. Giant sammich and fries then off to work. Clean, actual maintenance, the ice cream machines SUCKED! Get everything converted over to breakfast, then NAP. Morning manager would let me out at 6:30 AM.
It wasn't long before I found Ft. Myers beach watching the sunrise, even though I was on the Gulf Coast. Just have to look at the water until I saw the sun's reflection. I soon had a second job! At Ft Myers Beach in the rental office.
I can see this story getting long, and I have to cut it apart. But I'll leave you with this. 17 year old with a Mustang Cobra, 2 jobs, more money than I know what to do with, one of those jobs is on the beach, and girls.
God Damn girls Billy.
OK, this is SO not my style of music, but it happens to be my favorite "Flo Rida" song, and that's what this blog in my Small Town series is about. My time in Florida.
Like I said earlier, my father went where the work was, at this time he was a big shot at Caterpillar, and they needed someone to get a new shop in Florida running. So off we went!
Started off in Clewiston which is on the south end of Lake Okeechobee. That's the giant lake you see on ANY map of Florida. Man made lake to hide ships during WWII. I learned a lot about different cultures, manatees and BASS FISHING! We didn't spend a lot of time in Clewiston, and to this day I'm not sure why. But that's OK. Oh boy was that OK!!!
We ended up in Cape Coral FL. Yeah, let's take a 17 year old boy to the Gulf Coast full of sand, bikinis, and as I like to call it opportunity!
I drove my first ever vehicle down there, a 1978 Chevy truck. Bought a cap, and loaded all kinds of stuff in the back. Pulled into the driveway on South East 40th Terrace and hit my "La Cucaracha" horn! I'm a redneck from Small Town Ohio, remember? I was kind of a bum for a while, then decided I needed to be a part of this lifestyle I knew NOTHING about.
Little did I know when I played La Cucaracha, that we were literally the ONLY family on the street that weren't millionaires! LITERALLY! Not a huge deal, Dad and I made fast friends, and soon we were working on yachts on our dock in the back yard. I quickly learned the art of salt water fishing, I'd go every night 40' from my back door in the canal. Making some money, not really doing much of anything.
Then the evil world of girls showed up.
I was getting gas in my farm truck one night, dressed in work boots and a flannel. This young blond pulls up in a 380 ZX at the next pump (Purely paraphrase here, I don't remember the car. SHE was HOT, I remember that!) and instantly laughed at me. That hurts. Time to change things to fit my environment. Spent the next 2 weeks working on the truck, just to get more trade in value.
Traded my 1978 Chevy Farm Truck and whole persona in on a (Farmer wasn't cool back then, this was 1987) new style. 1980 Ford Mustang Cobra!
Got a job as an over night maintenance man at McDonald's. Cobra taught me about turbos, of course Dad already knew about them, so we spent a few nights in the garage working on my Cheez-Whiz orange Mustang. Holy shit did that thing scream bloody murder when we were done!!!
I'd go to work at 10:30 PM at McDonald's. Manager would leave at 11:00, store was closed, lock me in. I literally had my own McDonald's at my own disposal. Giant sammich and fries then off to work. Clean, actual maintenance, the ice cream machines SUCKED! Get everything converted over to breakfast, then NAP. Morning manager would let me out at 6:30 AM.
It wasn't long before I found Ft. Myers beach watching the sunrise, even though I was on the Gulf Coast. Just have to look at the water until I saw the sun's reflection. I soon had a second job! At Ft Myers Beach in the rental office.
I can see this story getting long, and I have to cut it apart. But I'll leave you with this. 17 year old with a Mustang Cobra, 2 jobs, more money than I know what to do with, one of those jobs is on the beach, and girls.
God Damn girls Billy.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
EMS "week"
I'm still thinking of a song to go with this blog post, but haven't come up with one yet.
It's "EMS WEEK!" I didn't realize a whole week was dedicated to what my colleagues do! I was over at the fire station, minding my own Gawd Damn Bizness for 20 or so years. Not paying attention to what they did for me. They made me look good!!!
I don't deserve to be a part of EMS Week, because what these people do is amazing! The people I get to work with will amaze you. Such knowledge and a genuine thirst to help others. I'm grateful that they have accepted me as one of their own. I'm grateful they made me part of their family, because that's really what it is. It's a family. MY family.
I HATED EMS a mere two years ago. Thanks to the people I have met, I now have a career goal in place when I leave the fire service. Thanks to these wonderful people, I now have a purpose in life. A second purpose. I love what I have done in the fire service. I made ZERO friends, I just met new brothers and sisters.
Little did I know, I would make an entire new family when I entered EMS. And I just thought of the song for this blog. "Take A Picture"
Take A Picture
There are too many people to name at this point. What I have learned from EMS, I would simply like to remind you, THANK YOU to those that have taught me. EMS has taught me so much, I wish the same upon those willing to learn!
1. You are there on they're worst day. They called 911 FOR YOU. FOR YOU!
2. Hands. Your hands hold life and death. You get to decide what your hands do. Your patient doesn't.
3. That NREMT test was just that, a test. Welcome to our trauma arrest world!
4. Start time is Mandatory!! End of shift time is optional.
5. There is nothing we would rather do!
I'm grateful for the Nurses, the firefighters, my co-workers. From accident, to ED I get to see it all now, and I want to be the one.
I got you! My name is Bill, I'll take care of you on the way to the hospital.
It's "EMS WEEK!" I didn't realize a whole week was dedicated to what my colleagues do! I was over at the fire station, minding my own Gawd Damn Bizness for 20 or so years. Not paying attention to what they did for me. They made me look good!!!
I don't deserve to be a part of EMS Week, because what these people do is amazing! The people I get to work with will amaze you. Such knowledge and a genuine thirst to help others. I'm grateful that they have accepted me as one of their own. I'm grateful they made me part of their family, because that's really what it is. It's a family. MY family.
I HATED EMS a mere two years ago. Thanks to the people I have met, I now have a career goal in place when I leave the fire service. Thanks to these wonderful people, I now have a purpose in life. A second purpose. I love what I have done in the fire service. I made ZERO friends, I just met new brothers and sisters.
Little did I know, I would make an entire new family when I entered EMS. And I just thought of the song for this blog. "Take A Picture"
Take A Picture
There are too many people to name at this point. What I have learned from EMS, I would simply like to remind you, THANK YOU to those that have taught me. EMS has taught me so much, I wish the same upon those willing to learn!
1. You are there on they're worst day. They called 911 FOR YOU. FOR YOU!
2. Hands. Your hands hold life and death. You get to decide what your hands do. Your patient doesn't.
3. That NREMT test was just that, a test. Welcome to our trauma arrest world!
4. Start time is Mandatory!! End of shift time is optional.
5. There is nothing we would rather do!
I'm grateful for the Nurses, the firefighters, my co-workers. From accident, to ED I get to see it all now, and I want to be the one.
I got you! My name is Bill, I'll take care of you on the way to the hospital.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Small Town: Scarecrow
One more stop before we head of to the Flo-Rida portion of this story.
As I sit here typing this, I realize it's absolutely amazing what my parents taught me during my childhood. Just enough coddling to get me by, yet enough freedom to go learn on my own.
At this point, I began to actually notice those that made an influence on my life. Dad put a wrench in my hand at the age of 9, and taught me how to use it. I didn't realize it at the time, but Mike's Dad did the same thing. When we finally got together, oh my. And this is the next part of the Small Town story. This is literally when Huck Finn met Tom Sawyer.
I'm not sure how the actual introduction was made, We were young. Looking back on it now, I can tell you that whatever introduction was made at the time influenced both of our lives on a grand scale.
I came from a hard working middle class family, and was put next door to the same. This was the point in my life that I learned the value of hard work. That may sound like I had a horrific childhood, but no. We learned how to work.
Bill, Mike, Kerry, Dan, Dave, Tim, Crowe......
My Dad and Mike's Dad were literally at odds, they were both diesel mechanics. I was "Caterpillar", Mike was "Cummins." That was a different time back then. It was about John Deere Vs. International at the tractor pulls. It was Dodge vs. Chevy on the street.
All of this mechanical knowledge coming from our fathers, and a little bit of rivalry led to fantastic things! We built go-karts, we restored tractors. I was all about Gravely, but Mike was dead set on that David Bradley, and what a fine machine we made out of it.
Mike and I became fast friends. Our fathers did too, soon the Cat/Cummins feud was gone. It became a "standard" of school, farm work, and me and my buddy getting into trouble after homework.
We played War in the woods. We built scale models of roller coasters. We built our own gokarts. Sure, we had the occasional clutch come apart in our face, but that go kart went in the end. We built bicycles, we had a treehouse that we built to house bicycle parts. We bolted skis on the front tires, and studded the back tire. We had electronics in the treehouse to warn of "girls" approaching. We went to school together. And our parents actually taught us.
We repaired fences, we changed oil on tractors, we shoveled manure. Then we built our own dune buggies, snowmobiles, trucks, and dirt bikes. Mike's older brother was dating the hottest thing we have ever seen. We called her "Ginger-Babe" Well, at least I did!
We worked so hard on that farm year round. Selling Christmas trees in season really wasn't a "chore", but that's what we did to keep the farm alive. It wasn't a problem, it wasn't a nuisance, It was just us young adults learning to work on a farm, and provide for others.
I miss those days. I'm sure Mike and Rob do as well. Just past the German Immigrants, Mike's parents had a HUGE influence on our lives. Good wholesome hardworking people. My family lived next door, on a much much smaller farm. It was a treat to live and help on the big farm.
Little did we know, mostly because Mike's Dad never said anything, we were on the verge of a dead scarecrow. We listened to John Cougar Mellancamp's song, and although we never talked about it, I assumed that was a problem far far away from our muskrat traps over here in Small Town.
Scarecrow
We went to the largest county fair in the state. We helped on the farm, and other farms. We were "pickup truck and John Deere hat" before it was cool. We earned extra money by bailing hay on another farm. We drove trucks, and wore John Deere hats before it was cool. Actually, we got made fun of for it. But we were family. And that's all that mattered. Mike's parents were called "Mom" and "Pop" when I showed up, even though Pop wasn't around much, he was way too busy working a full time job and trying to run the farm.
John Cougar Mellencamp was way ahead of us. We heard his "new" song, and thought that's not about us. It can't be about us. We lived in Ohio, not Nebraska.
It was just a matter of time. Those baseball fields we built, fun in the snow, everything we knew. It was about to change.......
As I sit here typing this, I realize it's absolutely amazing what my parents taught me during my childhood. Just enough coddling to get me by, yet enough freedom to go learn on my own.
At this point, I began to actually notice those that made an influence on my life. Dad put a wrench in my hand at the age of 9, and taught me how to use it. I didn't realize it at the time, but Mike's Dad did the same thing. When we finally got together, oh my. And this is the next part of the Small Town story. This is literally when Huck Finn met Tom Sawyer.
I'm not sure how the actual introduction was made, We were young. Looking back on it now, I can tell you that whatever introduction was made at the time influenced both of our lives on a grand scale.
I came from a hard working middle class family, and was put next door to the same. This was the point in my life that I learned the value of hard work. That may sound like I had a horrific childhood, but no. We learned how to work.
Bill, Mike, Kerry, Dan, Dave, Tim, Crowe......
My Dad and Mike's Dad were literally at odds, they were both diesel mechanics. I was "Caterpillar", Mike was "Cummins." That was a different time back then. It was about John Deere Vs. International at the tractor pulls. It was Dodge vs. Chevy on the street.
All of this mechanical knowledge coming from our fathers, and a little bit of rivalry led to fantastic things! We built go-karts, we restored tractors. I was all about Gravely, but Mike was dead set on that David Bradley, and what a fine machine we made out of it.
Mike and I became fast friends. Our fathers did too, soon the Cat/Cummins feud was gone. It became a "standard" of school, farm work, and me and my buddy getting into trouble after homework.
We played War in the woods. We built scale models of roller coasters. We built our own gokarts. Sure, we had the occasional clutch come apart in our face, but that go kart went in the end. We built bicycles, we had a treehouse that we built to house bicycle parts. We bolted skis on the front tires, and studded the back tire. We had electronics in the treehouse to warn of "girls" approaching. We went to school together. And our parents actually taught us.
We repaired fences, we changed oil on tractors, we shoveled manure. Then we built our own dune buggies, snowmobiles, trucks, and dirt bikes. Mike's older brother was dating the hottest thing we have ever seen. We called her "Ginger-Babe" Well, at least I did!
We worked so hard on that farm year round. Selling Christmas trees in season really wasn't a "chore", but that's what we did to keep the farm alive. It wasn't a problem, it wasn't a nuisance, It was just us young adults learning to work on a farm, and provide for others.
I miss those days. I'm sure Mike and Rob do as well. Just past the German Immigrants, Mike's parents had a HUGE influence on our lives. Good wholesome hardworking people. My family lived next door, on a much much smaller farm. It was a treat to live and help on the big farm.
Little did we know, mostly because Mike's Dad never said anything, we were on the verge of a dead scarecrow. We listened to John Cougar Mellancamp's song, and although we never talked about it, I assumed that was a problem far far away from our muskrat traps over here in Small Town.
Scarecrow
We went to the largest county fair in the state. We helped on the farm, and other farms. We were "pickup truck and John Deere hat" before it was cool. We earned extra money by bailing hay on another farm. We drove trucks, and wore John Deere hats before it was cool. Actually, we got made fun of for it. But we were family. And that's all that mattered. Mike's parents were called "Mom" and "Pop" when I showed up, even though Pop wasn't around much, he was way too busy working a full time job and trying to run the farm.
John Cougar Mellencamp was way ahead of us. We heard his "new" song, and thought that's not about us. It can't be about us. We lived in Ohio, not Nebraska.
It was just a matter of time. Those baseball fields we built, fun in the snow, everything we knew. It was about to change.......
Monday, April 27, 2015
Small Town: Roots Grow Deep
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)