It was late afternoon at the Philadelphia International Airport.
I hadn't been there since I was eleven or twelve, and I didn't remember it bright
with mid-winter sunshine.After enjoying life steeped in the luxury of home,for
what seemed ever longer than fifteen days;Here I was in full dress winter uniform,
Great Coat and all...
More than a year had been excreted from my life's tube, and
my parents seemed more ancient than I recalled.My father demonstrated the most
wizened appearance of the pair, but he remained strong for a man of 68.
When I gave him a real Christmas present for the first time in my life,I was
chagrined to learn that he had quit smoking.The present was a Ronson, Silver,
Butane Lighter, and I liked it a lot!
His thirty years in the ship yards, breathing fumes and asbestos,
had all but destroyed his lungs. So quiting smoking went a long way towards getting
him close on to 95 years of age before he finally stopped breathing...
The extraordinary adventure of her life lined my mothers face.
At first glance,one could surmise mid seventies,albeit she had not reached 62 yet.
However she was still determined in her movements and obviously clear of mind.
While on leave I was embarrassed to find out that though I had
signed out before my thousand mile drive home, I had failed to pick up my Air Line
tickets. Well suffice it to say, my very resourceful mother came through for her
little Raymond once again.
I've come to believe your not gone until your forgotten.I'll never
forget the great parents I was entrusted with...
Mom,my brothers Fred and Bob,and maybe Anne Franke had come to the Air Port
to see me off on the next big step in the saga of Raymond...
At that time,I think the last time someone from our family had been out
of the country was when my brother Tommy fought in the Korean War...But then my
sister Peggy had been over in England,when Queen Elizabeth was crowned...What
year was that? Also,she traveled by ship,I guess that counts?
So,we had to kill a couple of hours before take off and we had
gotten situated in the ground level gait area.When boarding time came it would be
only about a hundred foot walk up to the rolling steps that would get me on board.
As you know change is stressful,and big changes are very stressful...
I was about to embark on a trip into the totally unknown.Even though I had been
decorated for valor, I was not feeling at all brave.I had a premonition of impending
doom...My worst fears revolved around being without familiarity of circumstance,
both social and physical.I felt like I was about to dive into a deep dark well.
The dark spell of mood was broken then by some of the happiest laughter
I had heard in ages!The guffaws and chortles were emanating from two gleeful
brothers.Wondering what could be tickling them to such merriment,I slid over to the
refreshment machine alcove.There they were. Each brother was pumping Quarters into
what I came to know were Air Travel Insurance machines.Their hysteria was all about
how they would be such Big Millionaires, if in fact a tragedy occurs...Actually I
had not thought of that,and they could after all mourn so much more comfortably?
Finally on board, I marveled how a little plane like this could make
it all the way to Italy? Then we landed in New York.My ears adjusted fairly well.
As a matter of fact my right ear had nearly normal hearing. So I was able to get
the needed instructions as to how to change planes from the peppy Stewardess.
There was not much more time than needed,to buy some cigarettes and candy before my
big,four engine jet was open for business.
As the seating was ad lib,I picked a window seat just in back of the left
wing.I had always wondered if you could see flames coming out of a jet engine at
night? So here was my chance.The evening meal ,served by the stewardess with the very
young mother affect,was pretty good and it was certainly interesting...
Hours over the Atlantic,looking out of my small window I could see moon lit
cloud cover far below the wing,but no flames...After too many butts,and reading the
"Emergency Instructions" three times, I put my seat in the way back position.With the
seat back, I found that the foot rest came up considerably.Sleep claimed about three
hours of my young life,and then I was wide awake and very bored.It began to seem like
those dark jet engines would drone on into eternity.
I began to imagine that if I
could just stomp my feet on the floor,the plane would begin to descend out of the
world of boredom that had become my residence.A glint of dawn on the far horizon
saved me from the impending insanity,and I was glad too that I would not be offending
the nice stewardess after all...
Ireland really is green! Amazed is a good word
for how I felt as the plane sank through the early morning clouds over Shannon
Air Port.At the foot of each wave of golden yellow sunshine breaking through the
overcast,were glimpses of a sea of tall green grass.
At that time The Shannon Airport was completely lacking in
modern buildings,and I kept thinking it's all wood? But at least I was back on the
ground for what turned out to be at least ten hours...
In the winter time it gets dark earlier in Paris,than it does in
Philadelphia.So when we started down over Orleans,I couldn't see much.However I
began to suffer a great deal of pain in my left ear, due to our swift decent...
I really did not want to be embarrassed by my own scream, but I was horrified at
the certain knowledge that I was on the verge!As luck would have it I had to
swallow and with that the ice pick was pulled out of my ear.
Orleans was more modern and even down right glamorous than even The
New York Air Port had been.I was able to buy some picture post cards with American
money with no problem, in one of the air port shops.And in no time time I had
addressed two or three of them to Mom.I stepped out side on to an elevated deck to
breath some fresh French air,while I smoked another cigarette.A pretty stewardess
of about my own age asked me for a lite.Apparently,I had not seen her on the last
Jet but she had seen me and wondered where I was off to? She assured me that I
would just " fall in love with Italy ". I was falling in love already...
In pulling out my Zippo, I had gotten the Post Cards out too.When I sheepishly
explained to Sarah that I didn't know when I would be able to post them
she said she would be happy to mail them for me... With that she became another
hazy memory.
The Air Force had been kind enough to provide a voucher for dinner.
And as I had nothing else to do to pass the time, I thought here's the Restaurant
I may as well eat.The place was sparsely attended,and so I picked a table for two
to share with myself.Believe it or not, my tall French waiter was dressed in some
kind of black and white monkey suit,with a bow tie? The menu was somewhat
fortified with English, and something that sounded like ham and whatever
seemed like a good choice so I pointed at that...
When slim returned to see what sort of gratuity his
foreign military guest would be leaving,it hurt me to see the sad anguish
racing all over his face...
He could not comprehend my not eating purple cabbage.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
A walk in the snow...
Sometimes my memory is like a view along a country road,that is enjoying a quiet evening snowfall.I think I can see what I left down there in the valley,so very long ago, but the images are fading more as each moment is spent.
I think my eleventh birthday was hardly past, so my level of awareness of responsibility was not strong. What was strong was my desire for adventurous excursions,as I had begun to read about in The Glenside Free Library.
Just last summer, Blake an older boy(maybe twelve)in the neighborhood, had shown Michael Dooley,Allen Wade,and myself how to walk along a hardly used rail line to get to "Allen's Pond".
That may have been the summer of 1950, or around there...It's cloudy. But no matter,Allen's Pond was a boy's wonderland!The area consisted of about one hundred acres of a naturalists dream scape.We would enter off of Church Road,just past Paper Mill. A hint of a drive way was the entry through a clump of Mulberry trees opening up onto a field of waist high grass in mid-summer.This was a sure fire area to bring home some wood ticks from, especially in the fall months...
Then gleeful hearts racing on would arrive at another who knows what kind of tree line which almost hid a small, slow flowing brook.Just across the stream was a gently rising mound of earth, sprinkled with older trees, which were few in number but very tall. Most leaned at a slight angle towards the large expanse of dark green water known as Allen's Pond.
The lake was similar in shape to a raggedy figure eight. It was fed by a very small rill that entered on the far left top side from the upland that may have been called Rockledge...In that summer I learned that the lake had only one area that was more than six feet deep. And that was at the right hand waist of the Eight. The greater part was only three to five feet deep...
Now it was almost February and although I did not have a sled of my own,I had managed to take advantage of the frequent white blessings of that winter by sharing the Christmas presents of a couple of playmates.On that Saturday morning I had gotten Allen to come out of his nice warm house; with his new sled to try the days old snow up on Enfield's Kingston Road hill.Now Allen was a couple of years younger than me and on the thin side,so looking back with a parent's eyes I know now that coming out with me was not in his best interest...
At the top of Kingston we met up with Ten year old Tommy Myers. His father was a college graduate who was in sales for a big paint company.Although Tommy's family was obviously better off than mine, I was never jealous of him because his father was such a strict disciplinarian with his belt.And Tommy was always doing something to arouse has Daddy's Virginian anger.Where as my father did not know the meaning of corporal punishment...
Boring was not a familiar word to any of us,albeit Kingston soon was too routine.As I had been to Allen's Pond some days ago, before the current fall of six inches had come down,I remembered an Idea that had occurred then.
About five of us had marveled at the thick ice we could slide around on our shoes with. And then there was the ashes of bonfires on the shores,we imagined the older kids had left from ice skating parties(I don't think the term " Teen Anger " was extant yet?).The ashes fired our imaginations, mine any way... At the upper right of the Eight,a steep hill of perhaps fifty feet ran down to the waters edge,or in this case the ice.It entered my mind that one could sail down the hill and continue far across the ice!Wow! How great would that be!
So the plan was easy to sell to Tommy,Allen just said "We are?" As we were already in Enfield, we slogged over to Papermill and then took a right on Church.As our boots mushed on to the high grass field,fat flakes began to drift slowly down on to us...As we crossed the gray white expanse,Allen allowed as how it wasn't too cold? Tommy and I didn't really hear him,we were just impatient to see the ice...
Struggling over the rise, we found ourselves in a fog of disappointment.The ice was covered by six inches of mushy snow.The kind that left foot prints right down to the surface of the ice.The full realization of how useless it would be for our plans did not occur until we reached the waist of the eight. However being kids we thought we would try it anyway.We found it was too hard to clime straight up the steep hill, so we thought we would use the low ground to the left of the Eight to circle around the more gradual slope.As we started for the left, we were surprised to hear muffled cracking sounds racing away towards the middle of the lake...
Now the snow flakes had grown tiny and they were flying along out of the North West, Allen said in a fairly loud voice "I'm going home now!" And Tommy was right behind him, as they pulled their sleds to the close upper left of the Eight. Allen was smart already, and by the time he was seventeen I enjoyed being out smarted by him all of the time.But now I was in the middle of the Eight, and I thought I'll just shoot off to the right here ...
At about thirteen feet from shore, the deepest part of the lake, I stepped off into a shockingly cold abyss!In the time it takes to read "What?!!",I found myself submerged in a nether world.Then my head was in the growing wind again. I breathed it in,and as I doggy paddled towards the bank I felt the strangest sensation.It was heat flowing out of my body, like electric current...I felt ice under the snow in front of me and I tried to climb up on it. When it collapsed somehow I knew that was my avenue of escape from the ever increasing numbness of mind and body.Tommy and Allen tried to get help, but just let me say it wasn't in the cards.They were true friends and did not abandon me as fear would have some children do.In stead they encouraged me from the shore, as I through myself up onto the thin ice again and again, until I could clutch the earth once more.
The three of us were almost mute, as I emptied the water out of my boots.Then Tommy said something about making a fire,but I instinctively wanted to go home when injured in any serious way.Now that I was out of the water I didn't feel to terribly cold, and we started off towards warmth in the wind and the snow.When we reached Paper Mill Road Allen complained about how tired and cold he was, So I said
"Sit on your sled " and I pulled him the rest of the way to our Lyster Road.
I snuck in the back door, thinking it's lucky Mom is upstairs,as she called out to me "Is that you Raymond?"I can't remember if I replied...But I slipped down into the basement and took my clothes off.It seemed so odd how my leather jacket and my dungarees sort of stood up by themselves like an igloo... Next I sneaked up to the bathroom with a nice hot bath in mind.But before I could run the water I heard my mothers screams reverberating from the basement!
In those days the local Doctor would actually come to your house, and give you lot's of needles and a tongue lashing for being so stupid for walking in the snow like that!
***** Epilogue *****
Allen Wade grew up to be a handsome,tall blond young man who raced winning Hot Rods. He was clever enough to serve in The united States Navy Atomic Submarine Service.He married, and mustered out of the Navy in California.He bought himself a new Chevy and forgot new car tires weren't designed for speed...Allen was another friend that I still mourn.
Tommy Myers shared some crazy teenage adventures with me,however we took divergent paths in adult life and I kind of lost track of him.I think he did marry,after at least one near fatal auto accident in his early twenty's.And knowing his Dad , I'm sure he was a college graduate by the time I got my Honorable Discharge from the U.S.Air Force.
The above was not my last walk in the snow, and to this day, I make every effort to avoid being cold.....
I think my eleventh birthday was hardly past, so my level of awareness of responsibility was not strong. What was strong was my desire for adventurous excursions,as I had begun to read about in The Glenside Free Library.
Just last summer, Blake an older boy(maybe twelve)in the neighborhood, had shown Michael Dooley,Allen Wade,and myself how to walk along a hardly used rail line to get to "Allen's Pond".
That may have been the summer of 1950, or around there...It's cloudy. But no matter,Allen's Pond was a boy's wonderland!The area consisted of about one hundred acres of a naturalists dream scape.We would enter off of Church Road,just past Paper Mill. A hint of a drive way was the entry through a clump of Mulberry trees opening up onto a field of waist high grass in mid-summer.This was a sure fire area to bring home some wood ticks from, especially in the fall months...
Then gleeful hearts racing on would arrive at another who knows what kind of tree line which almost hid a small, slow flowing brook.Just across the stream was a gently rising mound of earth, sprinkled with older trees, which were few in number but very tall. Most leaned at a slight angle towards the large expanse of dark green water known as Allen's Pond.
The lake was similar in shape to a raggedy figure eight. It was fed by a very small rill that entered on the far left top side from the upland that may have been called Rockledge...In that summer I learned that the lake had only one area that was more than six feet deep. And that was at the right hand waist of the Eight. The greater part was only three to five feet deep...
Now it was almost February and although I did not have a sled of my own,I had managed to take advantage of the frequent white blessings of that winter by sharing the Christmas presents of a couple of playmates.On that Saturday morning I had gotten Allen to come out of his nice warm house; with his new sled to try the days old snow up on Enfield's Kingston Road hill.Now Allen was a couple of years younger than me and on the thin side,so looking back with a parent's eyes I know now that coming out with me was not in his best interest...
At the top of Kingston we met up with Ten year old Tommy Myers. His father was a college graduate who was in sales for a big paint company.Although Tommy's family was obviously better off than mine, I was never jealous of him because his father was such a strict disciplinarian with his belt.And Tommy was always doing something to arouse has Daddy's Virginian anger.Where as my father did not know the meaning of corporal punishment...
Boring was not a familiar word to any of us,albeit Kingston soon was too routine.As I had been to Allen's Pond some days ago, before the current fall of six inches had come down,I remembered an Idea that had occurred then.
About five of us had marveled at the thick ice we could slide around on our shoes with. And then there was the ashes of bonfires on the shores,we imagined the older kids had left from ice skating parties(I don't think the term " Teen Anger " was extant yet?).The ashes fired our imaginations, mine any way... At the upper right of the Eight,a steep hill of perhaps fifty feet ran down to the waters edge,or in this case the ice.It entered my mind that one could sail down the hill and continue far across the ice!Wow! How great would that be!
So the plan was easy to sell to Tommy,Allen just said "We are?" As we were already in Enfield, we slogged over to Papermill and then took a right on Church.As our boots mushed on to the high grass field,fat flakes began to drift slowly down on to us...As we crossed the gray white expanse,Allen allowed as how it wasn't too cold? Tommy and I didn't really hear him,we were just impatient to see the ice...
Struggling over the rise, we found ourselves in a fog of disappointment.The ice was covered by six inches of mushy snow.The kind that left foot prints right down to the surface of the ice.The full realization of how useless it would be for our plans did not occur until we reached the waist of the eight. However being kids we thought we would try it anyway.We found it was too hard to clime straight up the steep hill, so we thought we would use the low ground to the left of the Eight to circle around the more gradual slope.As we started for the left, we were surprised to hear muffled cracking sounds racing away towards the middle of the lake...
Now the snow flakes had grown tiny and they were flying along out of the North West, Allen said in a fairly loud voice "I'm going home now!" And Tommy was right behind him, as they pulled their sleds to the close upper left of the Eight. Allen was smart already, and by the time he was seventeen I enjoyed being out smarted by him all of the time.But now I was in the middle of the Eight, and I thought I'll just shoot off to the right here ...
At about thirteen feet from shore, the deepest part of the lake, I stepped off into a shockingly cold abyss!In the time it takes to read "What?!!",I found myself submerged in a nether world.Then my head was in the growing wind again. I breathed it in,and as I doggy paddled towards the bank I felt the strangest sensation.It was heat flowing out of my body, like electric current...I felt ice under the snow in front of me and I tried to climb up on it. When it collapsed somehow I knew that was my avenue of escape from the ever increasing numbness of mind and body.Tommy and Allen tried to get help, but just let me say it wasn't in the cards.They were true friends and did not abandon me as fear would have some children do.In stead they encouraged me from the shore, as I through myself up onto the thin ice again and again, until I could clutch the earth once more.
The three of us were almost mute, as I emptied the water out of my boots.Then Tommy said something about making a fire,but I instinctively wanted to go home when injured in any serious way.Now that I was out of the water I didn't feel to terribly cold, and we started off towards warmth in the wind and the snow.When we reached Paper Mill Road Allen complained about how tired and cold he was, So I said
"Sit on your sled " and I pulled him the rest of the way to our Lyster Road.
I snuck in the back door, thinking it's lucky Mom is upstairs,as she called out to me "Is that you Raymond?"I can't remember if I replied...But I slipped down into the basement and took my clothes off.It seemed so odd how my leather jacket and my dungarees sort of stood up by themselves like an igloo... Next I sneaked up to the bathroom with a nice hot bath in mind.But before I could run the water I heard my mothers screams reverberating from the basement!
In those days the local Doctor would actually come to your house, and give you lot's of needles and a tongue lashing for being so stupid for walking in the snow like that!
***** Epilogue *****
Allen Wade grew up to be a handsome,tall blond young man who raced winning Hot Rods. He was clever enough to serve in The united States Navy Atomic Submarine Service.He married, and mustered out of the Navy in California.He bought himself a new Chevy and forgot new car tires weren't designed for speed...Allen was another friend that I still mourn.
Tommy Myers shared some crazy teenage adventures with me,however we took divergent paths in adult life and I kind of lost track of him.I think he did marry,after at least one near fatal auto accident in his early twenty's.And knowing his Dad , I'm sure he was a college graduate by the time I got my Honorable Discharge from the U.S.Air Force.
The above was not my last walk in the snow, and to this day, I make every effort to avoid being cold.....
Thursday, January 24, 2008
" 9 9 D A R V O N ! "
The Spring came early in Southern Illinois , but that was to be expected in 1961. Actually in that part of our world it seemed like there were only two seasons,Summer and Winter.Kind of like the people around me,they were young or they were old.
First let me tell you about a young one.
Ken Galloway splashed onto my life at the top of the stairs by the pool room.
I was headed over to the hospital to catch some early lunch on my day off,as it was
close to pay day and my money was close to nothing.The Sun shining through the
windows of the pool room illuminated a young man who I was sure was new to the
barracks... Immediately I was impressed by his sparkling black eyes below wavy raven hair,above a bright, confident smile. Unlike my usual associates, Ken seemed to be racing toward the future instead of evading his past.
As we started to stuff ourselves in the hospital Dining room, an old one plodded over to our table. It was Wayne Sayer. Wayne always reminded me of a character in " The Maltese Falcon ". You know one of those Humphrey Bogart films. The Character was a portly man of about 50 , in a dirty white tropical suit, always mopping his brow with a dirty white handkerchief... Well of course Wayne was only just maybe 24, but he was portly, with thinning blond hair, and light blue eyes set in a pasty white face.
Inklings I had gleaned of Wayne's pre-Air Forcelife included a hint at how he had been thrown out of a very liberal Ohio college for something like moral turpitude... However,as he had developed great typing skills the Air Force made him a clerk in my Hospital.If I had known what the term "SNOB" meant in those days, I would have known he was one.He claimed to have a photo graphic memory and that was why he was always spouting erudite quotes.I must admit though, he did encourage some of my initial interests in English Literature and Social Science. And of course drinking cheap wine at the laundromat, but that's another story...
When Sunny Miller told me he was 25,it came to me that was why he had already lived! He had been a Golden Gloves Champ in Kentucky before he was an oil well roustabout in Louisiana.And now days really old women, in their forties and fifties,took him out on dates.And they bought him really expensive English leather shoes and Things like big 100% wool overcoats...Sunny was a bit over six feet tall, with dark brown hair in a waxed,one inch high crew cut. His nose evidenced having been broken more than once, but strangely it still had a sharp tip? Of course he had a jaw that was square, like two bricks side by side.
Sunny and Wayne made up Two fifths of the Gang of Five that I had worked hard to become an integral part of.Ken was an occasional satellite of the gang who had achieved a non-harassment status.
I never saw Astrid before I came to the Dining Room one evening to swallow quickly and digest later.Evenings on the Surgical unit were like a hundred yard race,that taking more than twelve minutes to eat could cause me to loose...
I can only try to describe her. She was doe like in affect,only her brown eyes seemed to beam intelligent understanding of each individual.When she spoke to me, it was like no one else existed.Her figure was spare , but there was no doubt as to her feminine gender. She and Ken had just about finished as I sat , so there was
not much more time than would be polite after an introduction.As she and Ken returned their trays and sauntered out,the physical poise of a ballet dancer came to mind.
In time I learned that she had studied dance prior to her service entry and that she was a little older than Ken...
As May turned into July, and then the end of August, Ken seemed happy
with the '56 Ford someone had willed him,Astrid and his life.When the Gang of Five
went adventuring in search of that wonderful adrenalin rush that smashed boredom,
Ken was not among us.
Labor Day was on Friday, it rained steadily.Saturday it was dully overcast
with intermittent drizzle...Sunday was golden yellow bright! Having slept late, as I was able to do in my disturbed youth, I wandered down to the day room to check under the couch cushions for loose change. Often times lifting a dozen cushions
could reward the searcher with more than a Dollar! More than enough to get some breakfast out of the snack machines on the ground floor.Like any other addiction the adrenalin habit often left the addict unashamedly broke.
Before I could lift a cushion, I heard the phone ring in the hallway.
I wasted no time in answering it because who could say what opportunity for gain it
could lead to? There was to be no gain... Instead it was to be a burden. Sunny Miller was on the phone. He asked me if Ken was around? I advised I had not seen him yet today , but that I would slide down to his room and see if he was in.
Lucky Sunny was calling from the Emergency Room where he had what I thought was a cushy job.He often would regale the Gang with tales of his work that were either interestingly gory or that of sexual innuendo in content. Often,I was jealous of the technical skills the Docs were teaching him , like sewing up wounds or putting on plaster casts and the like.
Returning to the phone I told Sunny Ken was no where to be seen.Sunny's voice seemed to crack,as he intoned the serious message I had to deliver to the youth
we both wished we were.
Around One Thirty, I knocked on Ken's door and got no answer again. As I
turned to leave, Ken came through the back door a few steps from his room. The usual
big smile was all over his face,as I felt only pain, he said " Hey!You looking
for me Wolf?!!"I fumbled for a way to start.And I said"Have you talked to Astrid
lately ?" Ken said he had not seen her for a few days because they had " sort of broke up." Even though it was quiet in the hallway , I thought it would go better in his room. And it would bye me time to put the words together.Ken had his key out already so in a moment I was sitting in his chair and he had agreed to sit on his bed.Ken volunteered that when last he spoke to Astrid,She had playfully asked him
that if she were pregnant would he marry her? He asked her if she was? And she said no! It's just a hypothetical ! Ha!Ha!! Just kidding,you know...
Feeling very old, I said " Ken I have to tell you what happened..."
It seems that yesterday evening Astrid made her bed,took a bath,put on a clean uniform,laid down on her bed and swallowed 99 DARVON .....
Then as two old men , we cried...
First let me tell you about a young one.
Ken Galloway splashed onto my life at the top of the stairs by the pool room.
I was headed over to the hospital to catch some early lunch on my day off,as it was
close to pay day and my money was close to nothing.The Sun shining through the
windows of the pool room illuminated a young man who I was sure was new to the
barracks... Immediately I was impressed by his sparkling black eyes below wavy raven hair,above a bright, confident smile. Unlike my usual associates, Ken seemed to be racing toward the future instead of evading his past.
As we started to stuff ourselves in the hospital Dining room, an old one plodded over to our table. It was Wayne Sayer. Wayne always reminded me of a character in " The Maltese Falcon ". You know one of those Humphrey Bogart films. The Character was a portly man of about 50 , in a dirty white tropical suit, always mopping his brow with a dirty white handkerchief... Well of course Wayne was only just maybe 24, but he was portly, with thinning blond hair, and light blue eyes set in a pasty white face.
Inklings I had gleaned of Wayne's pre-Air Forcelife included a hint at how he had been thrown out of a very liberal Ohio college for something like moral turpitude... However,as he had developed great typing skills the Air Force made him a clerk in my Hospital.If I had known what the term "SNOB" meant in those days, I would have known he was one.He claimed to have a photo graphic memory and that was why he was always spouting erudite quotes.I must admit though, he did encourage some of my initial interests in English Literature and Social Science. And of course drinking cheap wine at the laundromat, but that's another story...
When Sunny Miller told me he was 25,it came to me that was why he had already lived! He had been a Golden Gloves Champ in Kentucky before he was an oil well roustabout in Louisiana.And now days really old women, in their forties and fifties,took him out on dates.And they bought him really expensive English leather shoes and Things like big 100% wool overcoats...Sunny was a bit over six feet tall, with dark brown hair in a waxed,one inch high crew cut. His nose evidenced having been broken more than once, but strangely it still had a sharp tip? Of course he had a jaw that was square, like two bricks side by side.
Sunny and Wayne made up Two fifths of the Gang of Five that I had worked hard to become an integral part of.Ken was an occasional satellite of the gang who had achieved a non-harassment status.
I never saw Astrid before I came to the Dining Room one evening to swallow quickly and digest later.Evenings on the Surgical unit were like a hundred yard race,that taking more than twelve minutes to eat could cause me to loose...
I can only try to describe her. She was doe like in affect,only her brown eyes seemed to beam intelligent understanding of each individual.When she spoke to me, it was like no one else existed.Her figure was spare , but there was no doubt as to her feminine gender. She and Ken had just about finished as I sat , so there was
not much more time than would be polite after an introduction.As she and Ken returned their trays and sauntered out,the physical poise of a ballet dancer came to mind.
In time I learned that she had studied dance prior to her service entry and that she was a little older than Ken...
As May turned into July, and then the end of August, Ken seemed happy
with the '56 Ford someone had willed him,Astrid and his life.When the Gang of Five
went adventuring in search of that wonderful adrenalin rush that smashed boredom,
Ken was not among us.
Labor Day was on Friday, it rained steadily.Saturday it was dully overcast
with intermittent drizzle...Sunday was golden yellow bright! Having slept late, as I was able to do in my disturbed youth, I wandered down to the day room to check under the couch cushions for loose change. Often times lifting a dozen cushions
could reward the searcher with more than a Dollar! More than enough to get some breakfast out of the snack machines on the ground floor.Like any other addiction the adrenalin habit often left the addict unashamedly broke.
Before I could lift a cushion, I heard the phone ring in the hallway.
I wasted no time in answering it because who could say what opportunity for gain it
could lead to? There was to be no gain... Instead it was to be a burden. Sunny Miller was on the phone. He asked me if Ken was around? I advised I had not seen him yet today , but that I would slide down to his room and see if he was in.
Lucky Sunny was calling from the Emergency Room where he had what I thought was a cushy job.He often would regale the Gang with tales of his work that were either interestingly gory or that of sexual innuendo in content. Often,I was jealous of the technical skills the Docs were teaching him , like sewing up wounds or putting on plaster casts and the like.
Returning to the phone I told Sunny Ken was no where to be seen.Sunny's voice seemed to crack,as he intoned the serious message I had to deliver to the youth
we both wished we were.
Around One Thirty, I knocked on Ken's door and got no answer again. As I
turned to leave, Ken came through the back door a few steps from his room. The usual
big smile was all over his face,as I felt only pain, he said " Hey!You looking
for me Wolf?!!"I fumbled for a way to start.And I said"Have you talked to Astrid
lately ?" Ken said he had not seen her for a few days because they had " sort of broke up." Even though it was quiet in the hallway , I thought it would go better in his room. And it would bye me time to put the words together.Ken had his key out already so in a moment I was sitting in his chair and he had agreed to sit on his bed.Ken volunteered that when last he spoke to Astrid,She had playfully asked him
that if she were pregnant would he marry her? He asked her if she was? And she said no! It's just a hypothetical ! Ha!Ha!! Just kidding,you know...
Feeling very old, I said " Ken I have to tell you what happened..."
It seems that yesterday evening Astrid made her bed,took a bath,put on a clean uniform,laid down on her bed and swallowed 99 DARVON .....
Then as two old men , we cried...
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
2 0 0 8 New Years Resolutions
Well here we go again ! A new year and another Birthday...
This year I'm going to do the seldom. I'm going to resolve a few things.
I had a list of maybe five , but all I can remember now are the first two .
They are important to me though, and so I'll list them.
Number one is to overcome , and be done with my latest addiction; Computer Solitaire.
Soon I'll be 67 , and I have precious little time left on this sphere. So anyway up
until December thirty first , for about six months, I have been actually getting high on it !
At first, I told my self that I was just trying to repeat my one time only perfect score
of 12000... Albeit, recently I stopped lying to myself and had the conscious realization
that I was being derelict to my duty to family, self and home because I wanted to play
more than anything much else.....
So , so far so good I hope I played my last game ever on the thirty first, and here it is the third
and I haven't fallen off the wagon yet . It's whispering to me , but I know that resistance is
not futile. I've beaten addictions before.
I did try to obtain the easy way out ( As I always do ) but Marge refused to delete the game .
Okay, Number Two on the list is equally difficult for me. I want to start some exercises with
weights and some calisthenics too. My birthday is in the wings so I'm going to wait
until I recover from that . Not to worry, I'll get to it soon enough...
Numbers three, four and five are unclear at the moment, but if I see ' 09 , I'm sure you will find
that I have addressed them !
Happy ! New Year !! From R a y The Nurse
This year I'm going to do the seldom. I'm going to resolve a few things.
I had a list of maybe five , but all I can remember now are the first two .
They are important to me though, and so I'll list them.
Number one is to overcome , and be done with my latest addiction; Computer Solitaire.
Soon I'll be 67 , and I have precious little time left on this sphere. So anyway up
until December thirty first , for about six months, I have been actually getting high on it !
At first, I told my self that I was just trying to repeat my one time only perfect score
of 12000... Albeit, recently I stopped lying to myself and had the conscious realization
that I was being derelict to my duty to family, self and home because I wanted to play
more than anything much else.....
So , so far so good I hope I played my last game ever on the thirty first, and here it is the third
and I haven't fallen off the wagon yet . It's whispering to me , but I know that resistance is
not futile. I've beaten addictions before.
I did try to obtain the easy way out ( As I always do ) but Marge refused to delete the game .
Okay, Number Two on the list is equally difficult for me. I want to start some exercises with
weights and some calisthenics too. My birthday is in the wings so I'm going to wait
until I recover from that . Not to worry, I'll get to it soon enough...
Numbers three, four and five are unclear at the moment, but if I see ' 09 , I'm sure you will find
that I have addressed them !
Happy ! New Year !! From R a y The Nurse
Monday, December 3, 2007
The Blizzard of ' 7 7 . . .
Everyone called him " Ray " , but nearing 40 he began to feel a secret desire to be called " Raymond"... More gray hairs were appearing in what used to be plenty of dark brown.
As of late,life seemed to be galloping forward through an ever darkening wood.
Was it just months ago? The Fourth of July fire works,in Mayor Rizzo's Philadelphia !
Marge, the Kid's and The old green Beetle; downtown and then back home again loaded with fun.
That was the unforeseen beginning of the end of seven years of very good luck for Ray...The house of Raymond had been built on the foundation of his job. One of twoideals he had inherited from his father was a strong work ethic, the other beingarespect for women.Those two poles had enabled him to forge a nuclearfamily,whose gravity held all of his world.
Now it seemed the dark of winter was creeping into his life all to early. Some few
months back, years of excellent reviews and accolades were suddenly forgotten at work.In an effort to ward off a growing and consistent targeting of himself,Ray did the unthinkable.
Unthinkable for Marge! That is... Ray jumped into an opening for Permanent Evening
Supervisor. A demotion in more ways than one, is what Ray new it would be, but it would mean ten percent more money and hopefully an end to any more loss of pride... Marge really didn't warm to the idea. But then,she was unaware of Ray's inner struggles to survive.
Christmas and an unhappy New Years Eve had come and gone. Another,"Well what
do you want? "birthday had seethed by and here it was maybe late January. It might have been Tuesday of that week.Mr.Giordano, Ray's Shotgun, was gabbing away as usual as Ray maneuvered at a high rate of speed toward The University. Mr.G. was going on about how he had managed to get such a great deal on some new concrete sidewalks in Chestnut Hill.
Ray murmured something about Mr.G.'s going to be rich for sure soon... What he was really thinking about though was how through months of very hard work,he had begun to redeem himself at the hospital; If only he could do that at home!Blam!!! It was a right rear Blow Out!!
Some luck remained, as Ray maneuvered quickly from the far left lane of The Sure Kill, to the stony right shoulder. Leaving for work early allowed plenty of time to change the tire,and still get a cheap, on time parking space. On Thursday evening after finishing with the shifts second code call,a false alarm,Ray paused to check the T.V. News in a Ravdin Building patient lounge. He had the thought ever so briefly, that One seldom saw more than one patient in these areas... It was the weather report . Something about a very large snow storm to be Marching up the North East Corridor tomorrow ! So I'll have to tell Mr.G. were going to take the train
tomorrow . Sure, that way my car won't be stuck at work, and I'll be able to get home to Margie and the babies before midnight...
Oreland to the Reading Terminal was very familiar,The Subway route to what was
to become University City took a little more alert thought. Ray was pleased with himself as he emerged, not too out of breath, from the stairs on to Thirty fourth Street... Striding towards the Hospital it came to him that he shouldn't have expected to run into Jimmy along the way , as he had come by way of the Chestnut Hill station. But still he was fond of old Mr.G's Mr. Bluster personae. At work he was some times more of a hindrance than a help, but some how his presence was a comfort.
At the office everyone was on their mark, set to run home . Not only
was it Friday ! But everyone knew where they wanted to be when the snow storm arrived.
And that was mostly anywhere but West Philadelphia !
As usual, Ray made the rounds of seventeen floors and units, three to
five times by about nine thirty. The E.R. had grown quiet, and all of the real sick patients seemed to have decided to wait until Saturday to try and die... Stepping outside of the grand entrance glass doors of The Ravdin Building , Ray could see that the snow was already maybe six inches deep. There was no wind , and it seemed very serene out there.....
The usual phone call had been made around seven-thirty,nothing new but the snow,
except " I hope your not home too late..." And of course he almost shouted about how capable and you know; it's all planned out !
Then there was trouble in NICU with a ventilator,which was reconciled after a
little bagging time , and a tightened humidifier jar. Back in the office at Ten-fifteen , he found Frankie Collins, Iona , and Jimmy " finishing up... " Soon, Ralph and Jackson breezed in with " Getting the Hell out of here ! " on their mind... Ray compromised, and said " Okay... Everyone
can run for it at Ten-forty five..." Sure , the Eleven to Seven Shift will be in by Eleven , I'll run to the Subway, and with any luck I can make the 11:37... Or at worst The 12 : 15 Local...
Okay , Ten to Eleven , I guess the night shift aren't going to be as
responsible as me ... And it was me after all that suggested that R.T. comply with the New hospital mandation to be on the job an extra half hour, by starting a quarter to the hour.
But Damn it! I'll just not answer any of the phones or beeper/radios , unless it's like a code call
Let's see , I'll just line up the three gadgets on the desk by the door here ; I've got my galoshes on, my hat's on my head, I've got my " James Bond " brief case and epee like umbrella ready to run! Where the Hell !! Are they!!!
Eleven - thirteen ! Gerry Comer and his assistant Carolyn splash through the oaken
door !! Carolyn speaks breathlessly of heroically finding a parking space on thirty eighth Street!
The report is status quo! Good night !! Ray raced down the wooden steps of the
part of the complex that dated from the Civil War era, over to Ravdin and out on to 34th Street.
West Philly had never before seemed so eerily hushed as Ray hurriedly pushed through the sterile white blanket. Maybe, maybe my luck will hold? After all didn't Billy Lott proclaim me
"The luckiest guy he ever met..."; But of course that was a long time, another world ago...
The steps down to the subway platform were still filthy, but now they were
filthy and wet. It seemed dangerous some how, just to be walking on them. It was as if the wetness had endowed the concrete and steel with some sort of vital malevolence.
But Ray still had to hurry, if there was to be any chance to reach the solace of home...
On the platform were three anxious souls. A thirtyish Black female who appeared to
feel entirely put upon because, well who knows... A Black male , who looked younger in age than the woman, although it looked like he had a hard life and not too warm a coat on. Then there was the White Policeman, who looked like he had been mad for a long time.
Ray checked out the faded stencils to see which side of the platform he should board on.After three or four examinations he was satisfied. But you know you can't be too careful. By pushing up the sleeve of his black Loden Coat ,which he took secret pride in, he saw that his Benrus already said 11:35 ... So much for catching The Landsdale express . But there was still time to get the 12:15 Local . The Cop paced back and forth, The young man hunched up his shoulders behind a pillar, and the woman continued to look angry...
It was quiet enough to hear the others breath and water dripping, so when a distant
squeal of metal on old steel etched the dank fetid air,all faces jerked to attention!
The train car thundered through the stop with all of the fury and rage of an artillery shell!
Ray assumed it must have been some kind of express? The Cop drew himself up to full
stature ,with his fists on his waist, and the woman began to pace in a small oval. The young man seemed to gesture with body language that's the way it always is...
In just eight minutes, here comes another screaming projectile! It too seem to have
only ghosts aboard... Now the Cop putt's his hand on his .38 Special and says " The
next one better stop ! Or I'm going to shoot em! "
No more cars came by after that . It would be good to at least get to the Terminal
tonight,but by One thirty Ray was alone on the platform; alone and exhausted he thought.Ray thought better of returning to the office, not just because of the dull anger for Gerry not relieving him a little early,but also because there was no place to lay down there...
A hard bench was commandeered in the Dulles Building , only the tenth floor had Psych
patients on it. The rest were closed offices. With his brief case as a pillow, Ray faded out for a while after convincing himself he wasn't embarrassed by his situation.....
Back on the dirty concrete platform at Six thirty five, Ray heard the mumble-
grumble of the Sub coming . As it slowed to a stop, Ray could tell by the white on the roof that it had been parked outside last night as he had tried to sleep.
Ray felt almost giddy with the knowledge that he was finally advancing towards home .
It had been as if he was caught up in some sort of nightmarish board game. And now he was winning! It was difficult to see the station signs through the almost opaque car windows, and as the train lurched forward again Ray realized "That was Market Street! ". Well I'll be okay, I'll just get off at the next stop, and walk back..... And here's the next stop, Oh; South Broad...
Nobody on the train, and now this platform is as quiet as a grave yard on a
rainy spring night. How can I get to the street ? There, through those revolving bars I guess .From the number of steps upward already covered, it seemed that the rail platform must have been deep below the surface. The air seemed to be freshening now as Ray turned another right angle on the odious concrete stairs . At the top of the short flight , a wide expanse froze Ray's spine.In the dim fluorescence,he began to perceive as many as one hundred
supine bodies!
If he had not been striding with determination towards home, he would have come up halt! The thought struck him that these inert bodies were what people commonly referred to as Bums ! Life experience assured him that they were very much alive and very dangerous in this situation. And his umbrella as epee , brief case as shield would not, could not save him from utter destruction, should these numbers without witness rise up against him...
Half way through the slumbering rags, Ray heard a deep, mean voice call out "Carson !
Where are you going ?!! " Carson, a relatively slight man, had just started to get up on the near right of Ray's path. He replied to the Ogre in a plainly trembling voice " Oh, I was just going to get a cigarette ? ". No! said the Ogre, and Carson lay back down... Ray felt as if he must be invisible as his leaden legs propelled him on towards what looked like the morning light.
Ray was exhilarated by the vast open space, on the South side of City Hall, as well
the virgin blowing snow that seemed endless. Yes ! It's this way, a couple or three blocks to the Reading Terminal and then Home!
The doors to the Terminal opened in or out, but then five flights of steps had to be
surmounted as the escalators were not working. No surprise there ......
No green Landsdale signs lit yet , but it's only 7:52... At least I can sit down and it's not too cold... Say this would be a good time to take a leak... Yes, the pause that refreshes...
It looks like the Fuzz let a couple of shopping bag ladies nod through the night here, I'm afraid of that kind of poverty... Like the Bums.
Wow !There's The Landsdale Green! I won't have any trouble getting a seat because I'm
apparently the lone rider, scurrying under the dim grey vault high above... Very little light couldpierce the ancient, glass and iron arch that spanned the eighteen tracks ; not now, or when Ray was only nine years old. Since then the soot and oil had grown ever thicker, but Ray could seethe Sun brightening the maw of the Terminal...
Okay!Were finally moving ! Checking his watch he saw it just 08:12, not bad, I'll be
home before Nine... I'm certainly glad , I got a round trip ticket yesterday , because now that I went and splurged on a couple of cups of coffee at work, I don't have a dime on me .
Just as Ray was starting to feel some slight comfort from the train car's aged heating system, The Conductor made his first appearance by Slam- Banging !!! The door open !Not making eye contact, he shouted North Philadelphia! Every One Off ! The Breaks are No Good!!
In a daze Ray stepped off of the steel steps into more than two feet of virgin
snow. Diagonally on his left he saw in the now almost blinding sunlight a turn of the century Rail Road, green house like shelter. As the snow was still powdery , Ray was able to ease the glass paneled door open with surprisingly little strength... Inside he estimated the dimensions were about twelve by fifteen. On three of the walls were mounted brown wooden benches. Right in the middle was a pot bellied iron stove. Even if any fuel been available , Ray had quit smoking , it seemed years ago... And so, of course he had no means of igniting a fire...
Fortunately not all of the small panes of glass were broken out, So the now the
cruel wind, that was creating amazing drifts on the plains surrounding Ray's island could not so easily drain what little energy Ray had left.
Circumstances can cause just the ticking of the watch on your wrist to be pain full.
It's a train! I'm getting on no matter where it's headed! Even if it's headed for Doylestown, I can get off at Glenside and .......
The Conductor sang out " Landsdale Local - Next Stop
Jenkintown ! " Through the fog in his mind he thought " I'm going to be home soon.."
Oreland! The wind is less pain full now. There's a man trudging into the Hardware with no awareness of a neighbor trying to get home . The gently sloped street is so easy to traverse in the heat of August... And now a left onto Redford Road, so familiar and yet now so frozen strange... Up towards the house, along where the walk should be...
As Ray's eyes began to adjust to the indoor light,his Margie appeared from the stairs.
" Where were you all night ? Why didn't you call ? !! "......
***** Epilogue *****
In the inevitable Summer that followed, Proud Butterflies caressed the warm earth with love.
As luck would have it, in the Decade or so that followed Ray was able to clasp them to his heart, for true love can't be frozen.....
As of late,life seemed to be galloping forward through an ever darkening wood.
Was it just months ago? The Fourth of July fire works,in Mayor Rizzo's Philadelphia !
Marge, the Kid's and The old green Beetle; downtown and then back home again loaded with fun.
That was the unforeseen beginning of the end of seven years of very good luck for Ray...The house of Raymond had been built on the foundation of his job. One of twoideals he had inherited from his father was a strong work ethic, the other beingarespect for women.Those two poles had enabled him to forge a nuclearfamily,whose gravity held all of his world.
Now it seemed the dark of winter was creeping into his life all to early. Some few
months back, years of excellent reviews and accolades were suddenly forgotten at work.In an effort to ward off a growing and consistent targeting of himself,Ray did the unthinkable.
Unthinkable for Marge! That is... Ray jumped into an opening for Permanent Evening
Supervisor. A demotion in more ways than one, is what Ray new it would be, but it would mean ten percent more money and hopefully an end to any more loss of pride... Marge really didn't warm to the idea. But then,she was unaware of Ray's inner struggles to survive.
Christmas and an unhappy New Years Eve had come and gone. Another,"Well what
do you want? "birthday had seethed by and here it was maybe late January. It might have been Tuesday of that week.Mr.Giordano, Ray's Shotgun, was gabbing away as usual as Ray maneuvered at a high rate of speed toward The University. Mr.G. was going on about how he had managed to get such a great deal on some new concrete sidewalks in Chestnut Hill.
Ray murmured something about Mr.G.'s going to be rich for sure soon... What he was really thinking about though was how through months of very hard work,he had begun to redeem himself at the hospital; If only he could do that at home!Blam!!! It was a right rear Blow Out!!
Some luck remained, as Ray maneuvered quickly from the far left lane of The Sure Kill, to the stony right shoulder. Leaving for work early allowed plenty of time to change the tire,and still get a cheap, on time parking space. On Thursday evening after finishing with the shifts second code call,a false alarm,Ray paused to check the T.V. News in a Ravdin Building patient lounge. He had the thought ever so briefly, that One seldom saw more than one patient in these areas... It was the weather report . Something about a very large snow storm to be Marching up the North East Corridor tomorrow ! So I'll have to tell Mr.G. were going to take the train
tomorrow . Sure, that way my car won't be stuck at work, and I'll be able to get home to Margie and the babies before midnight...
Oreland to the Reading Terminal was very familiar,The Subway route to what was
to become University City took a little more alert thought. Ray was pleased with himself as he emerged, not too out of breath, from the stairs on to Thirty fourth Street... Striding towards the Hospital it came to him that he shouldn't have expected to run into Jimmy along the way , as he had come by way of the Chestnut Hill station. But still he was fond of old Mr.G's Mr. Bluster personae. At work he was some times more of a hindrance than a help, but some how his presence was a comfort.
At the office everyone was on their mark, set to run home . Not only
was it Friday ! But everyone knew where they wanted to be when the snow storm arrived.
And that was mostly anywhere but West Philadelphia !
As usual, Ray made the rounds of seventeen floors and units, three to
five times by about nine thirty. The E.R. had grown quiet, and all of the real sick patients seemed to have decided to wait until Saturday to try and die... Stepping outside of the grand entrance glass doors of The Ravdin Building , Ray could see that the snow was already maybe six inches deep. There was no wind , and it seemed very serene out there.....
The usual phone call had been made around seven-thirty,nothing new but the snow,
except " I hope your not home too late..." And of course he almost shouted about how capable and you know; it's all planned out !
Then there was trouble in NICU with a ventilator,which was reconciled after a
little bagging time , and a tightened humidifier jar. Back in the office at Ten-fifteen , he found Frankie Collins, Iona , and Jimmy " finishing up... " Soon, Ralph and Jackson breezed in with " Getting the Hell out of here ! " on their mind... Ray compromised, and said " Okay... Everyone
can run for it at Ten-forty five..." Sure , the Eleven to Seven Shift will be in by Eleven , I'll run to the Subway, and with any luck I can make the 11:37... Or at worst The 12 : 15 Local...
Okay , Ten to Eleven , I guess the night shift aren't going to be as
responsible as me ... And it was me after all that suggested that R.T. comply with the New hospital mandation to be on the job an extra half hour, by starting a quarter to the hour.
But Damn it! I'll just not answer any of the phones or beeper/radios , unless it's like a code call
Let's see , I'll just line up the three gadgets on the desk by the door here ; I've got my galoshes on, my hat's on my head, I've got my " James Bond " brief case and epee like umbrella ready to run! Where the Hell !! Are they!!!
Eleven - thirteen ! Gerry Comer and his assistant Carolyn splash through the oaken
door !! Carolyn speaks breathlessly of heroically finding a parking space on thirty eighth Street!
The report is status quo! Good night !! Ray raced down the wooden steps of the
part of the complex that dated from the Civil War era, over to Ravdin and out on to 34th Street.
West Philly had never before seemed so eerily hushed as Ray hurriedly pushed through the sterile white blanket. Maybe, maybe my luck will hold? After all didn't Billy Lott proclaim me
"The luckiest guy he ever met..."; But of course that was a long time, another world ago...
The steps down to the subway platform were still filthy, but now they were
filthy and wet. It seemed dangerous some how, just to be walking on them. It was as if the wetness had endowed the concrete and steel with some sort of vital malevolence.
But Ray still had to hurry, if there was to be any chance to reach the solace of home...
On the platform were three anxious souls. A thirtyish Black female who appeared to
feel entirely put upon because, well who knows... A Black male , who looked younger in age than the woman, although it looked like he had a hard life and not too warm a coat on. Then there was the White Policeman, who looked like he had been mad for a long time.
Ray checked out the faded stencils to see which side of the platform he should board on.After three or four examinations he was satisfied. But you know you can't be too careful. By pushing up the sleeve of his black Loden Coat ,which he took secret pride in, he saw that his Benrus already said 11:35 ... So much for catching The Landsdale express . But there was still time to get the 12:15 Local . The Cop paced back and forth, The young man hunched up his shoulders behind a pillar, and the woman continued to look angry...
It was quiet enough to hear the others breath and water dripping, so when a distant
squeal of metal on old steel etched the dank fetid air,all faces jerked to attention!
The train car thundered through the stop with all of the fury and rage of an artillery shell!
Ray assumed it must have been some kind of express? The Cop drew himself up to full
stature ,with his fists on his waist, and the woman began to pace in a small oval. The young man seemed to gesture with body language that's the way it always is...
In just eight minutes, here comes another screaming projectile! It too seem to have
only ghosts aboard... Now the Cop putt's his hand on his .38 Special and says " The
next one better stop ! Or I'm going to shoot em! "
No more cars came by after that . It would be good to at least get to the Terminal
tonight,but by One thirty Ray was alone on the platform; alone and exhausted he thought.Ray thought better of returning to the office, not just because of the dull anger for Gerry not relieving him a little early,but also because there was no place to lay down there...
A hard bench was commandeered in the Dulles Building , only the tenth floor had Psych
patients on it. The rest were closed offices. With his brief case as a pillow, Ray faded out for a while after convincing himself he wasn't embarrassed by his situation.....
Back on the dirty concrete platform at Six thirty five, Ray heard the mumble-
grumble of the Sub coming . As it slowed to a stop, Ray could tell by the white on the roof that it had been parked outside last night as he had tried to sleep.
Ray felt almost giddy with the knowledge that he was finally advancing towards home .
It had been as if he was caught up in some sort of nightmarish board game. And now he was winning! It was difficult to see the station signs through the almost opaque car windows, and as the train lurched forward again Ray realized "That was Market Street! ". Well I'll be okay, I'll just get off at the next stop, and walk back..... And here's the next stop, Oh; South Broad...
Nobody on the train, and now this platform is as quiet as a grave yard on a
rainy spring night. How can I get to the street ? There, through those revolving bars I guess .From the number of steps upward already covered, it seemed that the rail platform must have been deep below the surface. The air seemed to be freshening now as Ray turned another right angle on the odious concrete stairs . At the top of the short flight , a wide expanse froze Ray's spine.In the dim fluorescence,he began to perceive as many as one hundred
supine bodies!
If he had not been striding with determination towards home, he would have come up halt! The thought struck him that these inert bodies were what people commonly referred to as Bums ! Life experience assured him that they were very much alive and very dangerous in this situation. And his umbrella as epee , brief case as shield would not, could not save him from utter destruction, should these numbers without witness rise up against him...
Half way through the slumbering rags, Ray heard a deep, mean voice call out "Carson !
Where are you going ?!! " Carson, a relatively slight man, had just started to get up on the near right of Ray's path. He replied to the Ogre in a plainly trembling voice " Oh, I was just going to get a cigarette ? ". No! said the Ogre, and Carson lay back down... Ray felt as if he must be invisible as his leaden legs propelled him on towards what looked like the morning light.
Ray was exhilarated by the vast open space, on the South side of City Hall, as well
the virgin blowing snow that seemed endless. Yes ! It's this way, a couple or three blocks to the Reading Terminal and then Home!
The doors to the Terminal opened in or out, but then five flights of steps had to be
surmounted as the escalators were not working. No surprise there ......
No green Landsdale signs lit yet , but it's only 7:52... At least I can sit down and it's not too cold... Say this would be a good time to take a leak... Yes, the pause that refreshes...
It looks like the Fuzz let a couple of shopping bag ladies nod through the night here, I'm afraid of that kind of poverty... Like the Bums.
Wow !There's The Landsdale Green! I won't have any trouble getting a seat because I'm
apparently the lone rider, scurrying under the dim grey vault high above... Very little light couldpierce the ancient, glass and iron arch that spanned the eighteen tracks ; not now, or when Ray was only nine years old. Since then the soot and oil had grown ever thicker, but Ray could seethe Sun brightening the maw of the Terminal...
Okay!Were finally moving ! Checking his watch he saw it just 08:12, not bad, I'll be
home before Nine... I'm certainly glad , I got a round trip ticket yesterday , because now that I went and splurged on a couple of cups of coffee at work, I don't have a dime on me .
Just as Ray was starting to feel some slight comfort from the train car's aged heating system, The Conductor made his first appearance by Slam- Banging !!! The door open !Not making eye contact, he shouted North Philadelphia! Every One Off ! The Breaks are No Good!!
In a daze Ray stepped off of the steel steps into more than two feet of virgin
snow. Diagonally on his left he saw in the now almost blinding sunlight a turn of the century Rail Road, green house like shelter. As the snow was still powdery , Ray was able to ease the glass paneled door open with surprisingly little strength... Inside he estimated the dimensions were about twelve by fifteen. On three of the walls were mounted brown wooden benches. Right in the middle was a pot bellied iron stove. Even if any fuel been available , Ray had quit smoking , it seemed years ago... And so, of course he had no means of igniting a fire...
Fortunately not all of the small panes of glass were broken out, So the now the
cruel wind, that was creating amazing drifts on the plains surrounding Ray's island could not so easily drain what little energy Ray had left.
Circumstances can cause just the ticking of the watch on your wrist to be pain full.
It's a train! I'm getting on no matter where it's headed! Even if it's headed for Doylestown, I can get off at Glenside and .......
The Conductor sang out " Landsdale Local - Next Stop
Jenkintown ! " Through the fog in his mind he thought " I'm going to be home soon.."
Oreland! The wind is less pain full now. There's a man trudging into the Hardware with no awareness of a neighbor trying to get home . The gently sloped street is so easy to traverse in the heat of August... And now a left onto Redford Road, so familiar and yet now so frozen strange... Up towards the house, along where the walk should be...
As Ray's eyes began to adjust to the indoor light,his Margie appeared from the stairs.
" Where were you all night ? Why didn't you call ? !! "......
***** Epilogue *****
In the inevitable Summer that followed, Proud Butterflies caressed the warm earth with love.
As luck would have it, in the Decade or so that followed Ray was able to clasp them to his heart, for true love can't be frozen.....
Thursday, November 8, 2007
" C r u e l ? "
Rupell described his own personae as that of a big dumb, farm boy. His appearance did not belie that idea. He had brown hair that already seemed insufficient for his large square head at only twenty years of age.
He had a pleasant face , with a ready smile and large brown eyes,but few would call him handsome.
When he walked his six - one frame carried his 185 Lb.s in a loping gait, that was reminiscent of a young farmer walking across the freshly plowed furrows of a corn field...
Generally he was well groomed compared to his peers , and he allowed as how he never had a
dental cavity yet... That was a marvel to those of us who had half of our teeth filled twice already.
His choice of civilian clothing spoke of his innate thrift. Although his shirts and winter clothing seemed perhaps pre- Air Force, it was the pants . John's Trousers were usually of the kind that a car mechanic, or janitor would seem normal in.
John was of third generation Russian and German stock. He actually was very perceptive and wholly brighter than he looked. He developed a plan to attend college while in The Air Force...
He had gotten himself assigned to straight night shifts on The Medicine Floor. So then he could catch a bus in the morning to attend some classes in Saint Louis, and be back in time to catch some Z's, before the 11 to 7 shift...
Well , it didn't work out... Maybe he was falling asleep on the job , or maybe he just couldn't handle it,but he was all bummed out.
I knew he had a gun in his room, but I didn't know he had three firearms and ammunition in his locker.
As I recall , it was a Monday morning in early April. Spring was still not up yet in the southern mid west, but there was no wind and the overcast was very high. The word " Crisp" comes to mind in terms of the weather outside...
Having worked the eve shift over the weekend I had Monday off. Too late for breakfast , I slid down the hall to the pool room to see if MacIntyre who had been my roommate for a time was there. He had the worst smelling feet of all time, he also had a very serviceable Mercury coup,which would comfortably transport us to the Diner.
Sure enough Yule," don't call me Yuki" was running the table all by himself. As I strolled into the room , I could plainly hear the strains of Tex Ritter's Album " Blood on the Saddle" wafting from John's room which was adjacent. Just then Paul Salms and Steve"The Bug" Friedman came in the other door.
Steve's nickname was short for Jitterbug which accolade he had earned in part because of his age nineteen, and partly because he could only seem to tell the truth on pay days. Certainly we all embellished our truths , but Steve embellished his lies...
When John opened his door,we all slouched in and we saw that he was cleaning his guns . On his bed he had some kind of a single shot 22 Cal. Rifle, and on his Table/Desk he
had a 45 Cal. Automatic, as well as a 38 Cal. pistol.
I hadn't seen so many guns at one time since Basic Training. The Bug was most interested in the rifle strangely enough, and he asked John some questions about it.
Yule said " Hey! Why don't we all go shoot some guns!!" And we were off ! All except for Paul, who had a Dental Appointment. It turned out that Yule had bought some kind of " Cuban Revolutionary Carbine ", the week before. He had purchased it from a large hardware store in Saint Louis at a very low price. Yule claimed the store got twenty five
cases of them, and all were packed in the usual preservative gun grease, which was very
hard to get off...
Yule drove us to a wooded area, that kind of stood out as unusual in the surrounding sea of fallow , flat fields. He parked just off of the old humped back road,near a cement bridge. The bridge spanned a fair sized stream, that passed through the woodland.
You could tell that the stream overflowed it's banks during winter storms. There were patches of icy puddles here and there, where the leafless sycamore trees still shaded the ground
with their black,marching trunks.
Thanks to John we brought some paper targets , and some cans and bottles we picked up along the road with us. The stream was a couple of feet deep and slow moving , so we tossed our collected refuse in and blazed away! Yule opined " We are really gettin our enjoys now! " And he was right !! We were all having fun! Then John put some of his paper targets up on trees, and we were all surprised at what a good shot I was... With a rifle that is.
Johns 45 Cal. Ammo was of the Military kind . Full metal jacket. He said" I want to see what these expensive things look like after they hit something..." Obviously those that went towards the cold water were gone,and digging one out of a frozen tree was an unlikely option...
So John made a serious mistake . Very clever John shot the 45 into the puddle of ice he was standing on. Now the Ice was only about two or three inches deep. And , I bet John thought the bullet would go right through it and stop in the soft earth underneath? Well John forgot to remember that the earth underneath was frozen as hard as the Devils heart...
Our group of fools stood in a sort of circle , peering down at the ice,trying to see where the bullet penetrated for what seemed like thirty seconds. Then just as some of our temporary gunshot deafness was beginning to dissipate , we heard and saw the bullet clatter on the ice!!! It had ricocheted straight up ! And so had fallen back to earth without noticeably
arcing. If it had traveled skyward at ten or fifteen degrees off the perpendicular , one of us would probably be dead, or in a great deal of pain...
Everyone calculated that immediately , except maybe for the Bug. However it was left unsaid as John picked up the spent bullet he prized.
Yule , John , and I decided it was light up time, and we thought aloud about getting some lunch. It was then that we began to speculate on what Steve was up to.
Steve was from Philadelphia Pa. I think he was Jewish from the North East , but he claimed to be Italian from south Philly. Whatever! He was a total city boy in any case and I felt he had never handled a weapon until Basic training.
Now we saw him stalking through the trees,
eyes focused on high in the renewed quiet of our small forest de jour. We heard the report of the rifle, and it seemed singular compared to our recent community din. As we approached Steve's ground , he called out " I got em ! I got em!! " He was pointing to a bird on the ground , not much bigger than a Robbin and kind of dark in color.
It seems, Steve was a better shot than me after all... But then I was only aiming at targets.....
As a woman might say" The poor thing!" It wasn't dead. No, it was flopping around at Steve's feet. We all stared at the pitiful creature with a broken wing ,that had just fallen a hundred feet to the merciless ground.
No one wanted to see the suffering continue , but John was the first to act.
He picked up a fallen branch, and attempted to club it out of it's misery. As we watched silently, I could see it was not having the intended effect.
To this day, I can't bare to see any of God's innocent creatures suffer. So, I gently staid John's hand , and moved him aside. Raising my brogan shod right foot above the bird, I brought it down smartly on the birds head!
John said " Man your cruel !!! "
He had a pleasant face , with a ready smile and large brown eyes,but few would call him handsome.
When he walked his six - one frame carried his 185 Lb.s in a loping gait, that was reminiscent of a young farmer walking across the freshly plowed furrows of a corn field...
Generally he was well groomed compared to his peers , and he allowed as how he never had a
dental cavity yet... That was a marvel to those of us who had half of our teeth filled twice already.
His choice of civilian clothing spoke of his innate thrift. Although his shirts and winter clothing seemed perhaps pre- Air Force, it was the pants . John's Trousers were usually of the kind that a car mechanic, or janitor would seem normal in.
John was of third generation Russian and German stock. He actually was very perceptive and wholly brighter than he looked. He developed a plan to attend college while in The Air Force...
He had gotten himself assigned to straight night shifts on The Medicine Floor. So then he could catch a bus in the morning to attend some classes in Saint Louis, and be back in time to catch some Z's, before the 11 to 7 shift...
Well , it didn't work out... Maybe he was falling asleep on the job , or maybe he just couldn't handle it,but he was all bummed out.
I knew he had a gun in his room, but I didn't know he had three firearms and ammunition in his locker.
As I recall , it was a Monday morning in early April. Spring was still not up yet in the southern mid west, but there was no wind and the overcast was very high. The word " Crisp" comes to mind in terms of the weather outside...
Having worked the eve shift over the weekend I had Monday off. Too late for breakfast , I slid down the hall to the pool room to see if MacIntyre who had been my roommate for a time was there. He had the worst smelling feet of all time, he also had a very serviceable Mercury coup,which would comfortably transport us to the Diner.
Sure enough Yule," don't call me Yuki" was running the table all by himself. As I strolled into the room , I could plainly hear the strains of Tex Ritter's Album " Blood on the Saddle" wafting from John's room which was adjacent. Just then Paul Salms and Steve"The Bug" Friedman came in the other door.
Steve's nickname was short for Jitterbug which accolade he had earned in part because of his age nineteen, and partly because he could only seem to tell the truth on pay days. Certainly we all embellished our truths , but Steve embellished his lies...
When John opened his door,we all slouched in and we saw that he was cleaning his guns . On his bed he had some kind of a single shot 22 Cal. Rifle, and on his Table/Desk he
had a 45 Cal. Automatic, as well as a 38 Cal. pistol.
I hadn't seen so many guns at one time since Basic Training. The Bug was most interested in the rifle strangely enough, and he asked John some questions about it.
Yule said " Hey! Why don't we all go shoot some guns!!" And we were off ! All except for Paul, who had a Dental Appointment. It turned out that Yule had bought some kind of " Cuban Revolutionary Carbine ", the week before. He had purchased it from a large hardware store in Saint Louis at a very low price. Yule claimed the store got twenty five
cases of them, and all were packed in the usual preservative gun grease, which was very
hard to get off...
Yule drove us to a wooded area, that kind of stood out as unusual in the surrounding sea of fallow , flat fields. He parked just off of the old humped back road,near a cement bridge. The bridge spanned a fair sized stream, that passed through the woodland.
You could tell that the stream overflowed it's banks during winter storms. There were patches of icy puddles here and there, where the leafless sycamore trees still shaded the ground
with their black,marching trunks.
Thanks to John we brought some paper targets , and some cans and bottles we picked up along the road with us. The stream was a couple of feet deep and slow moving , so we tossed our collected refuse in and blazed away! Yule opined " We are really gettin our enjoys now! " And he was right !! We were all having fun! Then John put some of his paper targets up on trees, and we were all surprised at what a good shot I was... With a rifle that is.
Johns 45 Cal. Ammo was of the Military kind . Full metal jacket. He said" I want to see what these expensive things look like after they hit something..." Obviously those that went towards the cold water were gone,and digging one out of a frozen tree was an unlikely option...
So John made a serious mistake . Very clever John shot the 45 into the puddle of ice he was standing on. Now the Ice was only about two or three inches deep. And , I bet John thought the bullet would go right through it and stop in the soft earth underneath? Well John forgot to remember that the earth underneath was frozen as hard as the Devils heart...
Our group of fools stood in a sort of circle , peering down at the ice,trying to see where the bullet penetrated for what seemed like thirty seconds. Then just as some of our temporary gunshot deafness was beginning to dissipate , we heard and saw the bullet clatter on the ice!!! It had ricocheted straight up ! And so had fallen back to earth without noticeably
arcing. If it had traveled skyward at ten or fifteen degrees off the perpendicular , one of us would probably be dead, or in a great deal of pain...
Everyone calculated that immediately , except maybe for the Bug. However it was left unsaid as John picked up the spent bullet he prized.
Yule , John , and I decided it was light up time, and we thought aloud about getting some lunch. It was then that we began to speculate on what Steve was up to.
Steve was from Philadelphia Pa. I think he was Jewish from the North East , but he claimed to be Italian from south Philly. Whatever! He was a total city boy in any case and I felt he had never handled a weapon until Basic training.
Now we saw him stalking through the trees,
eyes focused on high in the renewed quiet of our small forest de jour. We heard the report of the rifle, and it seemed singular compared to our recent community din. As we approached Steve's ground , he called out " I got em ! I got em!! " He was pointing to a bird on the ground , not much bigger than a Robbin and kind of dark in color.
It seems, Steve was a better shot than me after all... But then I was only aiming at targets.....
As a woman might say" The poor thing!" It wasn't dead. No, it was flopping around at Steve's feet. We all stared at the pitiful creature with a broken wing ,that had just fallen a hundred feet to the merciless ground.
No one wanted to see the suffering continue , but John was the first to act.
He picked up a fallen branch, and attempted to club it out of it's misery. As we watched silently, I could see it was not having the intended effect.
To this day, I can't bare to see any of God's innocent creatures suffer. So, I gently staid John's hand , and moved him aside. Raising my brogan shod right foot above the bird, I brought it down smartly on the birds head!
John said " Man your cruel !!! "
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Winter Equinox- 2 0 1 2 , Where were you ?
December , Twenty first , Twenty Twelve marks the end of the Fifth Sun.
That is measured from 3 1 1 4 B.C. The Star that is the anchor of our Solar System experiences magnetic storms of increasing magnitude in eleven year cycles, earth time.
The Ancients believed Venus was reborn every 6 2 2 years , 2 months , and 9 days .
At that time Venus transits between the sun and the Earth .
Coincidentally? On December Twenty First 2 0 1 2 , The Eleven Year Cycle of Solar storms will be at a penultimate peak ... The last peak was in 2 00 1 . It interfered with radio communications to some extent at that time , endangered Astronauts , and of course in September we had the murderous attack...
Related historical events I have read of are " The little Ice Age ", " Cortes conquering The Aztecs " , and " The American Revolution ".
Every One is aware of The Earths Atmosphere , but who thinks of it's Magnetosphere ? Ordinarily the Earths magnetosphere protects life on Earth from the Suns outpouring of Solar winds, albeit it may not be entirely up to it for The End of The Fifth Sun...
The largest quiescent volcano in the world is " Yellow Stone National Park", a landslide off of the Atlantic Islands known as The Azores , could provide The East coast of America with a tsunami 500 feet high , rushing up to The Appalachians ...
The Economies of Western Civilization are profoundly dependent on Electronic Communication and records... Solar flares can severely interfere with, or even destroy satellite function. E.C.'s on the surface of the earth can also be disrupted by extreme Solar activity...
Think , No cell Phones working ! No electronic Banking ! No MAC's ! No Wire Transfers ( they don't use wires any more ... ) ! Heaven forbid! No TV !!
The worst is we may be militarily naked for quite some time . At the end of WW II , Radar, The A-Bomb, and Radio were a big deal. Now days our major military strengths are profoundly sensitive to computer capabilities, interdependent on satellites . Terrorists are not nearly as dependent , to accomplish their evil...
The Calender of prognostication of The Maya ends on December, 2 1 , 2 0 1 2, indicating a new unknowable era of new beginnings... The Chinese calender of predictions , roughly three thousand years old, indicates a time of great and profound changes in the whole world...
The current Chinese government has ordained a new leadership succession in 2012...
China is obviously going to be the next " Super Power " on Earth. China already has the largest standing army on earth, and they are furiously developing a prodigious navy.....
Solar storms could possibly cause black outs in all of Americas major cities for maybe a month or more... Think no lights, no 911 calls , no police radio , no TV, no Radio News, no water,
no heat, no AC, reduced Hospital care... Etcetera, Etcetera, Ad infinitum !!!
Civilization as we now enjoy, would be on hold at best.Have you got plenty of guns and ammo to protect you and yours?!!
Oh well ! That's all crazy talk ! Nothing like that ever happens ! Don't worry ! Be happy !! The Future is bright, have you got your rose colored sun glasses on yet?!!
What's One more Equinox anyway ?
That is measured from 3 1 1 4 B.C. The Star that is the anchor of our Solar System experiences magnetic storms of increasing magnitude in eleven year cycles, earth time.
The Ancients believed Venus was reborn every 6 2 2 years , 2 months , and 9 days .
At that time Venus transits between the sun and the Earth .
Coincidentally? On December Twenty First 2 0 1 2 , The Eleven Year Cycle of Solar storms will be at a penultimate peak ... The last peak was in 2 00 1 . It interfered with radio communications to some extent at that time , endangered Astronauts , and of course in September we had the murderous attack...
Related historical events I have read of are " The little Ice Age ", " Cortes conquering The Aztecs " , and " The American Revolution ".
Every One is aware of The Earths Atmosphere , but who thinks of it's Magnetosphere ? Ordinarily the Earths magnetosphere protects life on Earth from the Suns outpouring of Solar winds, albeit it may not be entirely up to it for The End of The Fifth Sun...
The largest quiescent volcano in the world is " Yellow Stone National Park", a landslide off of the Atlantic Islands known as The Azores , could provide The East coast of America with a tsunami 500 feet high , rushing up to The Appalachians ...
The Economies of Western Civilization are profoundly dependent on Electronic Communication and records... Solar flares can severely interfere with, or even destroy satellite function. E.C.'s on the surface of the earth can also be disrupted by extreme Solar activity...
Think , No cell Phones working ! No electronic Banking ! No MAC's ! No Wire Transfers ( they don't use wires any more ... ) ! Heaven forbid! No TV !!
The worst is we may be militarily naked for quite some time . At the end of WW II , Radar, The A-Bomb, and Radio were a big deal. Now days our major military strengths are profoundly sensitive to computer capabilities, interdependent on satellites . Terrorists are not nearly as dependent , to accomplish their evil...
The Calender of prognostication of The Maya ends on December, 2 1 , 2 0 1 2, indicating a new unknowable era of new beginnings... The Chinese calender of predictions , roughly three thousand years old, indicates a time of great and profound changes in the whole world...
The current Chinese government has ordained a new leadership succession in 2012...
China is obviously going to be the next " Super Power " on Earth. China already has the largest standing army on earth, and they are furiously developing a prodigious navy.....
Solar storms could possibly cause black outs in all of Americas major cities for maybe a month or more... Think no lights, no 911 calls , no police radio , no TV, no Radio News, no water,
no heat, no AC, reduced Hospital care... Etcetera, Etcetera, Ad infinitum !!!
Civilization as we now enjoy, would be on hold at best.Have you got plenty of guns and ammo to protect you and yours?!!
Oh well ! That's all crazy talk ! Nothing like that ever happens ! Don't worry ! Be happy !! The Future is bright, have you got your rose colored sun glasses on yet?!!
What's One more Equinox anyway ?
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