So now I was buried in debt even farther and struggling once again.
Winter was typically the slow season for my shop as well, so I answered an ad for a security guard at the Dow AgroSciences plant in Harbor Beach, and landed a midnight shift job there and was still able to work in my shop during the day.
It was exhausting to stay awake all night then work some during the day, but I was catching up.
Looking back now, it seemed to be a time that, despite all the hard times, I was able to land on my feet most of the time.
The job as a security guard didn't pay a lot, but through it I befriended several truck drivers from a company out of Port Huron that would come in at night to haul out loads of liquid waste.
This worked to my advantage when one of the drivers quit to take over his fathers family business. All the other drivers recommended me to their company to replace him, as I had experience driving tanker trucks, and I wound up with the best job I ever had.
I was able to keep the truck at my home, and every night at midnight I would go to Dow and get a load and take it to a landfill near Cleveland, Ohio. Once I got there, I had 3 hours to take a nap before they opened. It turned out to be 12 hour days, and the company paid time and a half for anything over 8 hours a day. A full 20 hours of my weekly paycheck was overtime.
The company also had the very best health care coverage and our whole family was covered 100% for everything medical.
I caught up on bills in no time and we were actually living a comfortable life for a change.
We were able to enjoy life and take little weekend getaway trips here and there. Sandy bought herself a shiny red Mustang and I bought myself a nice old Chevy pickup that was big enough to tow a camper I bought from my sister Kathy, and rebuilt it from the ground up.
The owner of the company I worked for started construction on a waste water treatment plant in Port Huron and began to pass the word around that, upon it's completion, Dow could send the loads there (a distance of 60 miles) rather than all the way to Ohio. They would also be RECYCLING the waste rather than burying it- a big plus PR wise for a huge company. The contract would have been very lucrative for my company as rumor had it, Dow was paying the Waste Management landfill nearly $12,000 a load to take them.
For the Fourth of July weekend that year, we took the camper up north and visit her sister Gladys. There was also an old time festival in a nearby town that weekend that was also a lot of fun.
When we got to Gladys' that Friday night, she was showing us the new computer she bought, mainly to help her children with their school work, but she had also found that on this new thing called the internet, there was a multitude of people to talk to that had the same interests, as well as a lot of strange people and groups.
Sandy was intrigued by it, and her sister began to show her all the things she had found, so Jerry and I set up my camper and we visited for awhile, and cooked some chicken and burgers on the barbeque.
Jerry asked the second oldest girl Andrea to start preparing all the side dishes for the supper, but she complained- “Aww do I gotta do it AGAIN? I thought mom was doing it?”
“Yeah...she was supposed to....but if we wait on her, we'll be here all night.” was his response.
Andrea stomped off to do as she was asked and Jerry gave a heavy sigh and told me-
”She (Gladys) doesn't get SHIT done since that damn thing came into this house.”
Once the barbeque was done and Gladys kids took care of everything else, we all prepared to have a meal together. Sandy and Gladys were still checking out the internet and came out to the table and filled their plates and went back to the living room and the computer, rather than take a place at the table.
“You should check this out! There is EVERYTHING on this!” Sandy told me as she went back to the living room.
“No thanks” I told her. I really wasn't up on electronic gizmo's, so I really had no interest in it at all.
After dinner, we went outside (other than Gladys and Sandy) and Jerry built a nice campfire and we all took out lawn chairs and sat around it. The kids cooked marshmallows and made s'mores and Jerry and I had a few beers and talked awhile. I always looked forward to coming up here. It is a very laid back, back in the woods rural area which suits me just fine, and sitting around the campfire shootin' the shit was always a high point.
After a few hours, the kids began to toddle off to bed and Jerry and I were running out of things to talk about. It was evident the women were not going to join us, so we put out the fire and went inside. The mosquito's were getting thick and up here they are the size of hummingbirds as well.
They were still planted in front of the computer, their empty plates from dinner still sitting on a nearby end table when we came in the house.
“You have GOT to check this out! There is literally anything and everything you could want on here!” Sandy told me again, her eyes all bleary from staring at the screen.
“No thanks.” I replied.
“But seriously...there are all kinds of people with all kinds of interests...you really oughta check it out...” she continued.
I watched TV for awhile with Jerry and at midnight, I told Sandy I was heading off to the camper and to bed. I'm not sure she even heard me, and she didn't answer, but I was dead tired. I had worked the previous night, took a 2 hour nap, then drove five hours to get here.
I tucked the kids in one more time and flopped down on our bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
I awoke the next morning sun shining through the window and birds singing and realized I was alone in bed.
How the hell long did I sleep? Is everyone awake and gone already?
I glanced over at the kids bed...they were still sleeping soundly. I looked at my watch to notice it was only a little past seven AM.
Oh well, I'm awake. Guess I'll go to the house for a cup of coffee.
I could hear Gladys and Jerry's kids running around and muffled voices inside the house as I stopped to pet Charlie, their yellow lab/Chow mix that was tied out to his doghouse.
“Sounds like everyone's awake, ain't they?” I said to Charlie as he took in the petting, his tail going a mile a minute.
“Mornin' Uncle Tom” Andrea greeted me as I went in the house. She had the youngest child Greg, who was almost a year old on her hip, and was busy making breakfast for him.
“I made some coffee if ya want some” she told me.
“Thanks Andrea” I told her as I poured myself a cup. I noticed her mom and Sandy were already in front of the computer screen again.
“They got up pretty early to be back in front of that thing already.” I said.
“Ppffftt! They haven't moved.” Andrea said. “They've been on the stupid thing all night.”
And so the weekend went on. We all did go to the festival and had a fun time, but as soon as we returned, Sandy and Gladys planted themselves in front of the computer again.
For the whole five hour trip home, all I heard about was all the people she met and talked with online, and by the next weekend we had what I would come to refer to as The Appliance from Hell in our house.
Much like her sister Gladys, Sandy was spending the majority of her time at the computer, joining groups, meeting new people from all over the world and telling me I should check it out.
I still didn't want anything to do with it. I was beginning to hate the damn thing even though I never touched it, just because of the fact that, much like Jerry, I had to pick up the slack around the house. Nothing quite like working all night, then having to stay awake to do mundane chores that had been left sitting for days. We both worked odd hours and shared household chores, whoever got to em first did em. But now she just wasn't doing them at all.
Work progressed nicely on the water treatment plant the boss was building and he continued to promote it. Unfortunately, word eventually reached Waste Management about it as well, and fearing losing the contracts to have the waste hauled to their facility, they sweetened the deal with Dow with one condition...they would send their OWN trucks to haul the waste.
It was big business self preservation for them, but it would be bad news for me.
Dow doesn't like to put all their eggs in one basket, so they did keep my company on board, but we went from four loads a night, five days a week to only two or three loads a week. It was a huge blow to my company and being low man on the totem pole, I didn't get the highest paying Dow runs, they went to those with more seniority.
Gone were the days of having the truck at home. Instead, my truck was now kept back in Port Huron and I had to drive my own vehicle 65 miles each way every day. I was given runs between Port Huron and Detroit that were relatively short runs, so I was getting very little overtime as well.
It was still good money, but the commute was costing quite a bit too, not to mention I was racking up miles on my own vehicles.
Back on the home front, Sandy continued the addiction to the net and began to make trips to a casino nearly two hours away to meet her sister Gladys for nights of fun. Eventually Gladys wound up getting a divorce and began her hunt for something better on the net (if she hadn't already).
One night I got a phone call from an older woman I worked with as a security guard at Dow. I had always gotten along with her, but she wasn't very popular with others, mainly due to the fact she took her job seriously. Maybe even a little too seriously. It wasn't a high security site by any means, in fact, security was in place more or less to save on insurance costs. We were, at best, $7 an hour scarecrows.
She called to tell me that things had gone to hell in a handbasket in the security department. The supervisor that was in place when I was there had resigned and the man they put in his place was doing an awful job. She went on to tell me she had contacted the corparate head of security in Indianapolis in regards to the matter and wondered if I'd be willing to talk to him.
I remembered the man they promoted to supervisor, and he did seem to be the last person I would have given the job to, so I agreed to letting her give the corparate guy my phone number. I didn't know what possible light I could shed on her situation, but what could it hurt.
A short time later I did get a call from a man who introduced himself as the Global President of Security and we talked for awhile about what I felt about the whole situation.
When we were done, he told me that everyone he spoke to back in Harbor Beach spoke highly of me and felt I did an outstanding job when I was there. He also asked (to my disbelief) if I would be interested in a position as head of security in Harbor Beach.
I didn't know what to say. Despite all the travel and now lower hours and pay, I loved my job and the people that owned the company were the nicest people I ever worked for.
“How much are we talkin'?” I asked the Dow exec.
I was shocked to find out I'd actually be making a few dollars more working for Dow and I'd be 5 minutes from home. I asked for a week to think it over.
A lot of things entered into my decision. I would have more time at home to spend with my kids and with Sandy's addiction to the net, they needed me now more than ever. There was the expensive commute. The idea of sitting in a comfy office versus driving a truck weighing 160,000 pounds with a load of liquid sloshing around in it on icy roads was rather enticing as well.
Plus that title...head of security...sounds so high tone doesn't it?
I considered who I'd working with at Dow and knew I got along great with all of them. The older woman who put me on to the job could be a little grating, but she thought I hung the moon so she wouldn't be an issue either.
With a heavy heart, I resigned from the company I was working for, and accepted the position at Dow. They understood, but both of us were sad to see it end.
My new position meant I'd have to learn about computers, so much to my chagrin, I began to explore on our computer at home. I found Sandy was right...there are a lot of interesting and helpful things on the net and I was fast becoming used to it as well and had my own little circle of friends too.
Nothing quite like having a bunch of people from all over the world that care about you, and for me in life at home, I really didn't have many good friends. I could see how this was addictive.
One day Sandy asked an odd question out of the blue. Gladys had been talking to a wealthy young man from Alaska on the net and the two of them were getting quite close. He was flying in to meet with her, but Gladys, having never met him in person, wanted Sandy to go with her.
Seems like a reasonable request. After all, a person can say they are anything on the web, right?
The odd part of the question was Sandy wanted ME to come along as well...but tell the guy I was her BROTHER, not her husband.
“Why in the world would I do that??” I asked.
“Well...it's complicated..Gladys kinda told him you were my brother” I was told.
Probably just be easier to go along with it.”
I refused at first and the more I thought about it the more angry I was becoming. Just who was interested in this guy...Gladys or her?
I did go though, mostly to see if my suspicions were correct, but stood firm on having no part to do with the “brother” part.
Turned out the wealthy young man was nearly 70 years old and pretty crusty, so neither of them were interested, but both of them were traveling quite frequently to meet with people “purely for Gladys”after that.
I found I was spending more time on the net myself and belonged to a group ran by a lady that lived in Sandusky, which is only 40 miles away...small world. The group was a lot of fun and I made a lot of friends there. One night in the chat part of the group a woman close in age to me was talking about her toothache and all were giving condolences, etc., but we began to talk and found out we have a lot in common.
Her name is Nancy, and over time we become close. She lived over 500 miles away, but eventually we decided to meet as well.
As we both set off to meet at a halfway point, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. I was still married....well sorta. My marriage had that it's still there till she finds Mr. Right feeling.
I asked myself as I drove along- am I throwing my life away?
What life, I reasoned and drove on...I was back to being a bad boy again...
Sunday, October 18, 2009
What I really need is a whole lotta speed...
Soon after the ordeal with Dad, the winter season set in, which is not my favorite time of year.
I used to love it as a kid, and could play out in the snow for hours, but the older I became the more it became a hassle.
It went from sledding and skating to shoveling and trying desperately NOT to skate while driving...and all the bundling up just to go out. What a pain in the ass.
That winter hit me very hard. I missed Dad and wondered if I'd ever see him again. He had been taken to the city, first to live with Nancy, then eventually to nursing homes down there when his condition worsened. I was becoming an amateur private investigator to find out what home he was in, and once I did find him , he'd be moved to another, and the search would start over.
I was getting fed up with it. I was getting fed up with just about everything.
Sandy and I were becoming more and more distant as she buried herself in her work and I in mine. I'd like to say I didn't blame her for all the problems with Dad, but deep down I knew I did at least a little.
It was freezing cold out, snow was flying, there was nothing to do and having spent a small fortune in legal bills, money was very tight again. It was going to be another long boring night in front of the TV when I heard the unmistakeable sound of a snowmobile engine in the front yard.
Oh great, now we got some asshole diggin' ruts all over the yard and driveway, I thought till I heard it pull up near the house and shut off.
It turned out to be Mike Holdwick, who had recently come home on leave from the Air Force. He had gotten an old snowmobile he and Henry had when we were still in school running again, and stopped by.
He had heard of my ordeal, and what a grumpy old bastard I had become as a result.
“Get your shit on” he said as he came inside and took his helmet off.
“We're goin' up to Halfway”.
Halfway Tavern was a bar a few miles from our home, named because it was located roughly halfway between Harbor Beach and Bad Axe.
“Naw...I can't” I said thinking of my empty pockets.
Oh yes you can!” he said “even if I gotta drag your ass out”.
“I don't have any money” I said.
“Don't worry bout that! We're goin' dammit!”
How could I refuse? Maybe a night out would do some good anyway.
I put on my insulated coveralls, heavy gloves and a full face stocking hat.....purely as an afterthought, I grabbed my old motorcycle helmet too. It would help keep my ears warm.
After Mike got the snowmobile started he stepped back off and told me- “you can drive”.
I had only been on a snowmobile once before. It was one I bought from a friend of Dennis Cruegers that was a huge engine on an older frame that went like hell, but I hated freezing my ass off so I sold it shortly after. I wasn't an expert by any means, but I knew the basics.
I shrugged my shoulders and hopped on the sled with Mike behind me. I figured the best route would be along the shoulder of the highway, it would be smooth and an easy ride.
As I went down our road towards the highway, the snowmobile began to tip to one side, but we were able to lean into it and bring it back.
“What the hell ya doin??” I heard Mikes muffled voice yell.
“I Dunno...it just went suddenly”
After I had it reeled back in, I gave it gas and we were underway...till it began to tip again.
“Lemme try it” Mike shouted as I brought it to a stop.
Mike got on it and I climbed on behind him and we were off again with no problems. Musta been my inexperience. As we reached the highway, we began to zip down the shoulder a little faster, until it really took a tip suddenly, nearly throwing us off.
“Must be the crown of the road” Mike yelled. The shoulders of the road were gradually sloped so water would run off, and it was tipping towards the down side, so that made sense.
“We'll turn on Minden Road and take that” Mike said.
Minden Road was a dirt road, which are typically flat as a pancake, so the crown of the road would not be there. It seemed to work great...Mike took it easy and on the first part of the road it was handling beautifully, so he opened it up to full throttle.
I have to admit, flying along at top speed did feel good. The rush of the wind and adrenaline I was feeling was putting a smile on my face for the first time in a long time. I had no worries, no cares, just the wind in my face and the snow whizzing past me and raw SPEED.
I remember briefly feeling a tipping sensation, before I was instantly sliding face down on the road, Mike was on top of me and the snowmobile was on top of him still shrieking at full throttle and upside down. We slid for what seemed like a week to ten days before the sled tumbled off of us and began to flip end for end down the road and into the ditch.
I rolled on my side and slid into the other ditch and wound up laying flat on my back. What the hell just happened?
“You okay??” I heard Mike ask.
I began to take inventory of my senses and realized I was okay...no broken bones or any serious injury other than my knee hurt a little. My helmet had some nasty scrapes and my coveralls were torn by my sore knee, but other than that, I was intact. Mike had a few lumps but was in good shape as well.
We walked over to the snowmobile still idling in the ditch, and other than a broken windshield, it was surprisingly in decent shape too. We yanked it out of the ditch expecting a broken or missing ski to be why we flipped, but found no real damage, so we jumped back on it and carefully continued on to Halfway.
As we drank a beer and began to shoot some pool, I also began to warm up, and the warmer I got, the more my knee was throbbing. I decided between shots to go in the bathroom and take a look at it.. it must be scraped up pretty good to hurt this bad.
I was shocked when I dropped my pants and seen the skin had been torn completely off of my kneecap and was hanging by a sliver. Inside my knee was full of small stones and dirt and as I began to pick them out, my knee began to bleed.
I wrapped it in toilet paper and went back out to the bar and told Mike we needed to leave NOW.
When we got back to my house, Mike and Sandy were picking the gravel out and cleaning it out.
“”You need to go to the hospital!” Sandy told me, but I refused. I had no insurance and figured I had enough big bills thank you...I'd be just fine.
I did wind up going to the hospital the next day anyway where they found more gravel in it and I got a bazillion stitches.
A couple years later I even had to have surgery to remove more and I still walk with a limp and occasionally use a cane, especially when it is cold and damp out.
It's my old war wound....
I used to love it as a kid, and could play out in the snow for hours, but the older I became the more it became a hassle.
It went from sledding and skating to shoveling and trying desperately NOT to skate while driving...and all the bundling up just to go out. What a pain in the ass.
That winter hit me very hard. I missed Dad and wondered if I'd ever see him again. He had been taken to the city, first to live with Nancy, then eventually to nursing homes down there when his condition worsened. I was becoming an amateur private investigator to find out what home he was in, and once I did find him , he'd be moved to another, and the search would start over.
I was getting fed up with it. I was getting fed up with just about everything.
Sandy and I were becoming more and more distant as she buried herself in her work and I in mine. I'd like to say I didn't blame her for all the problems with Dad, but deep down I knew I did at least a little.
It was freezing cold out, snow was flying, there was nothing to do and having spent a small fortune in legal bills, money was very tight again. It was going to be another long boring night in front of the TV when I heard the unmistakeable sound of a snowmobile engine in the front yard.
Oh great, now we got some asshole diggin' ruts all over the yard and driveway, I thought till I heard it pull up near the house and shut off.
It turned out to be Mike Holdwick, who had recently come home on leave from the Air Force. He had gotten an old snowmobile he and Henry had when we were still in school running again, and stopped by.
He had heard of my ordeal, and what a grumpy old bastard I had become as a result.
“Get your shit on” he said as he came inside and took his helmet off.
“We're goin' up to Halfway”.
Halfway Tavern was a bar a few miles from our home, named because it was located roughly halfway between Harbor Beach and Bad Axe.
“Naw...I can't” I said thinking of my empty pockets.
Oh yes you can!” he said “even if I gotta drag your ass out”.
“I don't have any money” I said.
“Don't worry bout that! We're goin' dammit!”
How could I refuse? Maybe a night out would do some good anyway.
I put on my insulated coveralls, heavy gloves and a full face stocking hat.....purely as an afterthought, I grabbed my old motorcycle helmet too. It would help keep my ears warm.
After Mike got the snowmobile started he stepped back off and told me- “you can drive”.
I had only been on a snowmobile once before. It was one I bought from a friend of Dennis Cruegers that was a huge engine on an older frame that went like hell, but I hated freezing my ass off so I sold it shortly after. I wasn't an expert by any means, but I knew the basics.
I shrugged my shoulders and hopped on the sled with Mike behind me. I figured the best route would be along the shoulder of the highway, it would be smooth and an easy ride.
As I went down our road towards the highway, the snowmobile began to tip to one side, but we were able to lean into it and bring it back.
“What the hell ya doin??” I heard Mikes muffled voice yell.
“I Dunno...it just went suddenly”
After I had it reeled back in, I gave it gas and we were underway...till it began to tip again.
“Lemme try it” Mike shouted as I brought it to a stop.
Mike got on it and I climbed on behind him and we were off again with no problems. Musta been my inexperience. As we reached the highway, we began to zip down the shoulder a little faster, until it really took a tip suddenly, nearly throwing us off.
“Must be the crown of the road” Mike yelled. The shoulders of the road were gradually sloped so water would run off, and it was tipping towards the down side, so that made sense.
“We'll turn on Minden Road and take that” Mike said.
Minden Road was a dirt road, which are typically flat as a pancake, so the crown of the road would not be there. It seemed to work great...Mike took it easy and on the first part of the road it was handling beautifully, so he opened it up to full throttle.
I have to admit, flying along at top speed did feel good. The rush of the wind and adrenaline I was feeling was putting a smile on my face for the first time in a long time. I had no worries, no cares, just the wind in my face and the snow whizzing past me and raw SPEED.
I remember briefly feeling a tipping sensation, before I was instantly sliding face down on the road, Mike was on top of me and the snowmobile was on top of him still shrieking at full throttle and upside down. We slid for what seemed like a week to ten days before the sled tumbled off of us and began to flip end for end down the road and into the ditch.
I rolled on my side and slid into the other ditch and wound up laying flat on my back. What the hell just happened?
“You okay??” I heard Mike ask.
I began to take inventory of my senses and realized I was okay...no broken bones or any serious injury other than my knee hurt a little. My helmet had some nasty scrapes and my coveralls were torn by my sore knee, but other than that, I was intact. Mike had a few lumps but was in good shape as well.
We walked over to the snowmobile still idling in the ditch, and other than a broken windshield, it was surprisingly in decent shape too. We yanked it out of the ditch expecting a broken or missing ski to be why we flipped, but found no real damage, so we jumped back on it and carefully continued on to Halfway.
As we drank a beer and began to shoot some pool, I also began to warm up, and the warmer I got, the more my knee was throbbing. I decided between shots to go in the bathroom and take a look at it.. it must be scraped up pretty good to hurt this bad.
I was shocked when I dropped my pants and seen the skin had been torn completely off of my kneecap and was hanging by a sliver. Inside my knee was full of small stones and dirt and as I began to pick them out, my knee began to bleed.
I wrapped it in toilet paper and went back out to the bar and told Mike we needed to leave NOW.
When we got back to my house, Mike and Sandy were picking the gravel out and cleaning it out.
“”You need to go to the hospital!” Sandy told me, but I refused. I had no insurance and figured I had enough big bills thank you...I'd be just fine.
I did wind up going to the hospital the next day anyway where they found more gravel in it and I got a bazillion stitches.
A couple years later I even had to have surgery to remove more and I still walk with a limp and occasionally use a cane, especially when it is cold and damp out.
It's my old war wound....
Maybe there is some hope after all
You said you didn't need me in your life
Oh, I guess you were right.
You know I never meant to cause you no pain,
but it looks like I did it again.
Now I wish it would rain down
Yes I wish it would rain down on me....
It was obvious that Nancy had been abusing her given powers over Dad's affairs and to stop what was happening my other sibs and I had to petition the courts to have her Power of Attorney taken away. With all the evidence given, they did appoint a temporary court appointed Guardian till a suitable permanent one could be put in place.
Dad eventually got out of the hospital and back to his home once we were able to get everything turned back on, and a health care worker was hired to stay with him.
My sibs and I set about having my brother named to handle his affairs, as it should have been in the first place.
We contacted a lawyer, gave him a BALE of money and he assured us that having my brother named his guardian would be absolutely no problem.
He was the oldest, financially stable himself and a police officer to boot. We were assured he would be a shoe-in and the court appearance would be little more than a formality. He wondered why the court didn't suggest him in the first place.
We had tried but the courts let Dad choose who, and he chose Nancy.
At that time he was slipping and forgetful, but still deemed capable to make that decision. Tests had shown his illness had now progressed to the point he was now unable to think rationally enough to make them. He was now deemed a legally incompetent adult, or L.I.A. based on the tests given.
It was all legal mumbo-jumbo. At least now we knew Dad would finally be properly cared for.
I visited with Dad every day and over time, we got back to what we once were, before all the mistrust, before my wild stage.
He had a couple of great health care workers that he enjoyed having around and his health and his attitude vastly improved.
Nancy stayed away for awhile, but as the court date loomed near, she began to call Dad on the telephone and the health care workers noticed he would change after the calls and become less sociable.
I happened to be there when he got a call from her one time and I carefully listened in on an extension line and found out why. She was telling him that the health care workers were my idea, and they were costing him a fortune. She was telling him to tell the workers to get out of his house, he didn't need anyone there. She was telling him I had set a court date and was going to tell them he was crazy and try and get all his things and money. Don't trust him, she pleaded with him. She hung up quickly when I asked why he shouldn't.
True to form, after the call he was confused, quiet and a little standoffish.
“Are you going to court to take my things?” he asked straight out.
“No Dad”
“But she said you had set a court date?”
“Well” I said, wondering how to put it so it didn't sound bad. “you do need someone to make sure your bills are paid and that you have everything you need..”
“I've been doing that.....haven't I?”
As much as I wanted to tell him all that had been done by Nancy, I didn't want to take that road, it just wasn't my style. It would only ad to the confusion for him, and he likely wouldn't remember it by later the same day anyway.
“Well, no someone else has been doing it and they messed it all up....so we were thinking maybe we should let Mike do it....would that be alright?”
I could see the confusion on his face and the mistrust starting to well up inside him.
“I guess” he said nervously as he walked to his desk where he used to keep track of everything in small notebooks before his illness.
“Where are all my books?” he asked as he rummaged through some papers
“Someone took them...”
“Don't worry about them, they are...”
“Did you take them??” he asked.
“I don't have them, but they are safe...you're gonna have to trust me Dad.”
The look on his face was anything but trust and he began to retract into his shell.
“Dad, I don't care one bit about your money or your things. In fact, I'd just as soon not have anything to do with any of it, as long as I know you are safe.” I told him.
“Yes, there is a court date, but it is only to appoint Mike to take care of your bills and such.” I continued on. “but it's not for my benefit or anyone else's...it's for your well being ...can you trust me?”
“I guess...where'd ya say my books were?”
“The court has them”
“Did you take them there?”
I thought long and hard about telling him more.
“No...the person that was taking care of them had to give them to them...just till they appoint Mike.”
He was still confused but seemed okay with everything.
The court date finally came and Dad and I met up with my brother Mike and sister Kathy at the courthouse assuming Nancy would be there as well.
As the time for our appearance before the court drew nearer, we were surprised she hadn't shown yet. About fifteen minutes before our scheduled time our lawyer arrived and greeted us all and met Dad. He assured us all again it was all a formality and would be over soon...he just needed to have a conference with Dad before it began.
We all breathed a sigh of relief as he led Dad to a small conference room. It was embarrassing to go before the court with a family quarrel like this, but as he said it will soon be over.
A short while later our lawyer came back and told us he had good news. He had had a conference Dad and the lawyer for the other side and had reached a deal already so the hearing would be just to give the details.
“Other side?” I asked “I thought this was just going before the court to appoint Mike.”
“Oh no” he said nonchalantly “The court NEVER appoints another family member guardian once a member of the family has already been dismissed and there is bickering involved...they always appoint a 3rd party person...it's standard procedure.”
“Who is it then?” we all asked in unison.
“It's time for court...c'mon...you'll see. He told us.
As we went into the courtroom, there sat Dad, Nancy, the lawyer that had petitioned to give her Power of Attorney and an older man no one recognized.
The old gent was quietly talking to Dad as the proceedings began with confirmation that Dad was now considered an L.I.A. (legally incompetent adult)
The judge began by asking all of us if we agreed to the fact Dad was of this mental state.
When I said yes, Nancy leaned over to Dad and whispered “See? Told ya”
I'll never forget the look he gave me that day.
The old gent none of us knew then asked to speak to the court and introduced himself as a senior rights activist and gave a speech to the court how he was fully aware about how Dad had been taken advantage of (to which Nancy sat and shook her head in agreement) and that he would not tolerate it in the least. This man was a veteran, he shouted to the court, and should never had been treated as he was (again, Nancy giving the amen's to his sermon)
He assured the court that Dad would be well cared for like he had never been before under his care and that he would see to it PERSONALLY he was never taken advantage of again.
Nancy's lawyer moved to have him appointed guardian, our lawyer seconded it and the judge banged his gavel. It was a done deal.
Dad had seen me before his own eyes tell the court he was an L.I.A., just as Nancy told him I would.
An old gentleman that was a half bubble off of center that Nancy had befriended and briefed was now his legal guardian and both were on a mission to protect Dad from me.
It lasted 15 minutes, cost us $2500 and would be the last time I would see Dad in a coherent state.
Dad would be bounced from nursing home to nursing home in the city. Each time we would find out which one, he'd be moved to another, and the search would go on.
Eventually he had a massive stroke that left him incapable of speech, whereupon he was moved to a home in Sandusky where I could visit him, but had no way of communicating with him.
Oh, I guess you were right.
You know I never meant to cause you no pain,
but it looks like I did it again.
Now I wish it would rain down
Yes I wish it would rain down on me....
It was obvious that Nancy had been abusing her given powers over Dad's affairs and to stop what was happening my other sibs and I had to petition the courts to have her Power of Attorney taken away. With all the evidence given, they did appoint a temporary court appointed Guardian till a suitable permanent one could be put in place.
Dad eventually got out of the hospital and back to his home once we were able to get everything turned back on, and a health care worker was hired to stay with him.
My sibs and I set about having my brother named to handle his affairs, as it should have been in the first place.
We contacted a lawyer, gave him a BALE of money and he assured us that having my brother named his guardian would be absolutely no problem.
He was the oldest, financially stable himself and a police officer to boot. We were assured he would be a shoe-in and the court appearance would be little more than a formality. He wondered why the court didn't suggest him in the first place.
We had tried but the courts let Dad choose who, and he chose Nancy.
At that time he was slipping and forgetful, but still deemed capable to make that decision. Tests had shown his illness had now progressed to the point he was now unable to think rationally enough to make them. He was now deemed a legally incompetent adult, or L.I.A. based on the tests given.
It was all legal mumbo-jumbo. At least now we knew Dad would finally be properly cared for.
I visited with Dad every day and over time, we got back to what we once were, before all the mistrust, before my wild stage.
He had a couple of great health care workers that he enjoyed having around and his health and his attitude vastly improved.
Nancy stayed away for awhile, but as the court date loomed near, she began to call Dad on the telephone and the health care workers noticed he would change after the calls and become less sociable.
I happened to be there when he got a call from her one time and I carefully listened in on an extension line and found out why. She was telling him that the health care workers were my idea, and they were costing him a fortune. She was telling him to tell the workers to get out of his house, he didn't need anyone there. She was telling him I had set a court date and was going to tell them he was crazy and try and get all his things and money. Don't trust him, she pleaded with him. She hung up quickly when I asked why he shouldn't.
True to form, after the call he was confused, quiet and a little standoffish.
“Are you going to court to take my things?” he asked straight out.
“No Dad”
“But she said you had set a court date?”
“Well” I said, wondering how to put it so it didn't sound bad. “you do need someone to make sure your bills are paid and that you have everything you need..”
“I've been doing that.....haven't I?”
As much as I wanted to tell him all that had been done by Nancy, I didn't want to take that road, it just wasn't my style. It would only ad to the confusion for him, and he likely wouldn't remember it by later the same day anyway.
“Well, no someone else has been doing it and they messed it all up....so we were thinking maybe we should let Mike do it....would that be alright?”
I could see the confusion on his face and the mistrust starting to well up inside him.
“I guess” he said nervously as he walked to his desk where he used to keep track of everything in small notebooks before his illness.
“Where are all my books?” he asked as he rummaged through some papers
“Someone took them...”
“Don't worry about them, they are...”
“Did you take them??” he asked.
“I don't have them, but they are safe...you're gonna have to trust me Dad.”
The look on his face was anything but trust and he began to retract into his shell.
“Dad, I don't care one bit about your money or your things. In fact, I'd just as soon not have anything to do with any of it, as long as I know you are safe.” I told him.
“Yes, there is a court date, but it is only to appoint Mike to take care of your bills and such.” I continued on. “but it's not for my benefit or anyone else's...it's for your well being ...can you trust me?”
“I guess...where'd ya say my books were?”
“The court has them”
“Did you take them there?”
I thought long and hard about telling him more.
“No...the person that was taking care of them had to give them to them...just till they appoint Mike.”
He was still confused but seemed okay with everything.
The court date finally came and Dad and I met up with my brother Mike and sister Kathy at the courthouse assuming Nancy would be there as well.
As the time for our appearance before the court drew nearer, we were surprised she hadn't shown yet. About fifteen minutes before our scheduled time our lawyer arrived and greeted us all and met Dad. He assured us all again it was all a formality and would be over soon...he just needed to have a conference with Dad before it began.
We all breathed a sigh of relief as he led Dad to a small conference room. It was embarrassing to go before the court with a family quarrel like this, but as he said it will soon be over.
A short while later our lawyer came back and told us he had good news. He had had a conference Dad and the lawyer for the other side and had reached a deal already so the hearing would be just to give the details.
“Other side?” I asked “I thought this was just going before the court to appoint Mike.”
“Oh no” he said nonchalantly “The court NEVER appoints another family member guardian once a member of the family has already been dismissed and there is bickering involved...they always appoint a 3rd party person...it's standard procedure.”
“Who is it then?” we all asked in unison.
“It's time for court...c'mon...you'll see. He told us.
As we went into the courtroom, there sat Dad, Nancy, the lawyer that had petitioned to give her Power of Attorney and an older man no one recognized.
The old gent was quietly talking to Dad as the proceedings began with confirmation that Dad was now considered an L.I.A. (legally incompetent adult)
The judge began by asking all of us if we agreed to the fact Dad was of this mental state.
When I said yes, Nancy leaned over to Dad and whispered “See? Told ya”
I'll never forget the look he gave me that day.
The old gent none of us knew then asked to speak to the court and introduced himself as a senior rights activist and gave a speech to the court how he was fully aware about how Dad had been taken advantage of (to which Nancy sat and shook her head in agreement) and that he would not tolerate it in the least. This man was a veteran, he shouted to the court, and should never had been treated as he was (again, Nancy giving the amen's to his sermon)
He assured the court that Dad would be well cared for like he had never been before under his care and that he would see to it PERSONALLY he was never taken advantage of again.
Nancy's lawyer moved to have him appointed guardian, our lawyer seconded it and the judge banged his gavel. It was a done deal.
Dad had seen me before his own eyes tell the court he was an L.I.A., just as Nancy told him I would.
An old gentleman that was a half bubble off of center that Nancy had befriended and briefed was now his legal guardian and both were on a mission to protect Dad from me.
It lasted 15 minutes, cost us $2500 and would be the last time I would see Dad in a coherent state.
Dad would be bounced from nursing home to nursing home in the city. Each time we would find out which one, he'd be moved to another, and the search would go on.
Eventually he had a massive stroke that left him incapable of speech, whereupon he was moved to a home in Sandusky where I could visit him, but had no way of communicating with him.
The family woes heat up...
Scratch my back with a lightnin' bolt
Thunder rolls like a bass drum note,
Sound of the weather is Heavens ragtime band.
We all fell down from the Milky Way
Hangin' round here till the Judgement day,
Heaven only knows who's in command.
Barefoot children in the rain...
Got no need to explain
we're all swingin' on a ball and chain
Barefoot children in the rain.
Can't help but get a mental picture of my kids when they were young every time I hear that song. One of their favorite things to do was go out and play in the mud puddles in the driveway after a rain storm.
Wouldn't it be nice to live a carefree life like that? Maybe I ought to go stomp in the mud next time it rains.....
Sandy's kids eventually grew tired of having to do what they were told, and went to live with their real dad for awhile. Although I loved them like they were my own, I have to admit it was a relief. Sandy had a good job and was rarely around for them.
I think that may have made them more rebelious as well. I was the “bad guy” they had to listen to, and more and more, they no longer referred to me as dad.
So it went to me and my fairly busy shop and my own two kids and Sandy who worked long and often weird hours. (some tell me that was the reason we were married for 15 years...lol)
The kids loved having me home. We'd have breakfast and lunch together and they'd help me cook supper. At bedtime it was story time and they would take turns picking out what book I'd read them and I think I could still recite Johnny Tractor (my sons favorite) and PJ Funny Bunny (my daughters) to this day.
Saturday nights we'd stay up late and watch the Red Green Show.
Good times...
It was fun, and this was one of the happiest times in my life, mainly because I could spend time with them, rather than spend time away at work somewhere.
Sometimes in the summer, I'd take some time here and there, and go swimming or fishing, especially if they had been good.
We had taken a fishing trip one day down near Forestville, and I had planned to stop in and see Dad, if he were around. I really wanted to visit him more often,and wanted him to see his grandkids, but with my busy schedule combined with him spending a lot of time away with Nancy, it just wasn't happening. I had also come across as the bad guy in all the bickering when Nancy had filed for Power of Attorney as well, so sometimes he wasn't all that friendly.
We stopped in at a bait shop that some friends owned and as I talked to the owners wife about fishing conditions, weather, etc, she said
“Sorry to hear about your Dad”.
I assumed she was talking about our strained relationship when she also said
“Is he gonna be okay?”
Hell if I know, I thought to myself, feeling bad about how long it had been since I last seen him.
“Yeah, he'll be fine” I lied.
“Oh good!” she said “Ron told me that when they picked him up, they didn't know if he'd make it.”
“Ron?” I asked, thinking of my old boss Ron.
“Why would Ron pick him up?” I asked
“Well he IS on the ambulance crew...” was all I heard even though she was still talking.
“Wait a minute....are we talkin' Ron Nowiski??”
“No” she told me “Ron Umbreit...from Forestville...he was saying they had to take him to the hospital and he was in bad shape”.
“When was this??”
“Last week” she replied, staring at me in disbelief that I had no idea.
“What hospital?”
“Deckerville....you didn't know?”
I was mad and ashamed. How could this happen? Why didn't I try and visit more?Why the hell didn't anyone call me?
“No, I had no idea” I said. “but thanks for telling me”
She was apologizing for not calling me, but it didn't matter....I had to get to Deckerville.
When I got there I was met with a cool response from the nurse in charge when I told her who I was...that was odd.
When she finally let me in to see him, I was shocked. He weighed next to nothing and was so frail I almost didn't recognize him. An IV tube was in his arm, and he was hooked to several monitors. The official word...or at least what they'd tell me... was that when he was brought in he was unresponsive.
He turned and looked at us when we entered the room and as he glared at me he struggled out-
“Is there anything left at my house, or did ya take everything already?”
The nurse that had given me a hard time gave a hearty “harump” and walked out of the room with her nose in the air. What the hell is her problem?
I would soon find out my sister Nancy and her had become close friends and she knew all the “dirt” on me, including a made up excuse that Nancy had left me in charge of Dad for a week and I basically left him to die....I was only interested in Dad's things after all.
Word had spread through the hospital what a creep I was and I was as welcome as the plague there, that was until the head nurse who had been on vacation came back the next day.
She just happened to be my best friend Don's mother, and she set EVERYONE straight as to what was going on.
Over the course of the next few days we learned that all the concerns we had about Nancy handling Dad's affairs were very real and then some.
She and her gentleman friend had moved from a small apartment in a bad neighborhood to a condo in a nice gated community, despite very meager income.
She had bought a brand new car for Dad despite the fact he could no longer drive. (she was driving it with no legal license or insurance too)
She had bought the house next door to his house, again, with no explainable means of doing so. She had also not paid any of his household bills and he had been left sitting in his home with no electricity, heat or water.
It was back to the court and time for round two of the family battle.
Thunder rolls like a bass drum note,
Sound of the weather is Heavens ragtime band.
We all fell down from the Milky Way
Hangin' round here till the Judgement day,
Heaven only knows who's in command.
Barefoot children in the rain...
Got no need to explain
we're all swingin' on a ball and chain
Barefoot children in the rain.
Can't help but get a mental picture of my kids when they were young every time I hear that song. One of their favorite things to do was go out and play in the mud puddles in the driveway after a rain storm.
Wouldn't it be nice to live a carefree life like that? Maybe I ought to go stomp in the mud next time it rains.....
Sandy's kids eventually grew tired of having to do what they were told, and went to live with their real dad for awhile. Although I loved them like they were my own, I have to admit it was a relief. Sandy had a good job and was rarely around for them.
I think that may have made them more rebelious as well. I was the “bad guy” they had to listen to, and more and more, they no longer referred to me as dad.
So it went to me and my fairly busy shop and my own two kids and Sandy who worked long and often weird hours. (some tell me that was the reason we were married for 15 years...lol)
The kids loved having me home. We'd have breakfast and lunch together and they'd help me cook supper. At bedtime it was story time and they would take turns picking out what book I'd read them and I think I could still recite Johnny Tractor (my sons favorite) and PJ Funny Bunny (my daughters) to this day.
Saturday nights we'd stay up late and watch the Red Green Show.
Good times...
It was fun, and this was one of the happiest times in my life, mainly because I could spend time with them, rather than spend time away at work somewhere.
Sometimes in the summer, I'd take some time here and there, and go swimming or fishing, especially if they had been good.
We had taken a fishing trip one day down near Forestville, and I had planned to stop in and see Dad, if he were around. I really wanted to visit him more often,and wanted him to see his grandkids, but with my busy schedule combined with him spending a lot of time away with Nancy, it just wasn't happening. I had also come across as the bad guy in all the bickering when Nancy had filed for Power of Attorney as well, so sometimes he wasn't all that friendly.
We stopped in at a bait shop that some friends owned and as I talked to the owners wife about fishing conditions, weather, etc, she said
“Sorry to hear about your Dad”.
I assumed she was talking about our strained relationship when she also said
“Is he gonna be okay?”
Hell if I know, I thought to myself, feeling bad about how long it had been since I last seen him.
“Yeah, he'll be fine” I lied.
“Oh good!” she said “Ron told me that when they picked him up, they didn't know if he'd make it.”
“Ron?” I asked, thinking of my old boss Ron.
“Why would Ron pick him up?” I asked
“Well he IS on the ambulance crew...” was all I heard even though she was still talking.
“Wait a minute....are we talkin' Ron Nowiski??”
“No” she told me “Ron Umbreit...from Forestville...he was saying they had to take him to the hospital and he was in bad shape”.
“When was this??”
“Last week” she replied, staring at me in disbelief that I had no idea.
“What hospital?”
“Deckerville....you didn't know?”
I was mad and ashamed. How could this happen? Why didn't I try and visit more?Why the hell didn't anyone call me?
“No, I had no idea” I said. “but thanks for telling me”
She was apologizing for not calling me, but it didn't matter....I had to get to Deckerville.
When I got there I was met with a cool response from the nurse in charge when I told her who I was...that was odd.
When she finally let me in to see him, I was shocked. He weighed next to nothing and was so frail I almost didn't recognize him. An IV tube was in his arm, and he was hooked to several monitors. The official word...or at least what they'd tell me... was that when he was brought in he was unresponsive.
He turned and looked at us when we entered the room and as he glared at me he struggled out-
“Is there anything left at my house, or did ya take everything already?”
The nurse that had given me a hard time gave a hearty “harump” and walked out of the room with her nose in the air. What the hell is her problem?
I would soon find out my sister Nancy and her had become close friends and she knew all the “dirt” on me, including a made up excuse that Nancy had left me in charge of Dad for a week and I basically left him to die....I was only interested in Dad's things after all.
Word had spread through the hospital what a creep I was and I was as welcome as the plague there, that was until the head nurse who had been on vacation came back the next day.
She just happened to be my best friend Don's mother, and she set EVERYONE straight as to what was going on.
Over the course of the next few days we learned that all the concerns we had about Nancy handling Dad's affairs were very real and then some.
She and her gentleman friend had moved from a small apartment in a bad neighborhood to a condo in a nice gated community, despite very meager income.
She had bought a brand new car for Dad despite the fact he could no longer drive. (she was driving it with no legal license or insurance too)
She had bought the house next door to his house, again, with no explainable means of doing so. She had also not paid any of his household bills and he had been left sitting in his home with no electricity, heat or water.
It was back to the court and time for round two of the family battle.
Why some chickens are darker than others...
Once my son began school, my daughter and I spent a lot of time together during the day. While my son was very much a boy and into cars, tractors and just overall boy things, my daughter was every bit a girl...a lot of pink dresses, white tights and bows in her hair. She didn't spend a lot of time in the shop, but she loved to go with me wherever I had to go.
I had to go to a farm supply store in town one day to get some welding supplies and she was really excited to go ...it was Chick Days!
The store would sell baby chickens, ducks and rabbits in the spring and that was one of her favorite things to see.
After I gathered what I needed, it was off to the back of the store to see the baby animals. She stuck her little fingers in each rabbit cage and touched each ones fur and then went on to the large empty watering troughs they kept the chicks in.
First, she peered over the top of the baby duck pen and watched them scramble about, then on to some tiny yellow baby chickens, where she giggled as they cheeped away and scratched at the bottom of the pen.
The next pen had some dark colored baby chickens in it, and the way the pens were laid out, the heat lamps to keep them warm for that pen were clamped to the outside of the pen, rather than the inside like the others.
As she stood on her tip toes and wandered down the side of the pen she began to draw closer to the lamps and felt the heat coming off of them. She would back away, but kept going back towards the lamps.
She got fairly close to one at one time, and rubbed the side of her head as she backed away.
She peered into the pen again...then looked back at the yellow chicks, and back to the dark colored ones.
“Daddy! She exclaimed. “'dese ones is BOINT!!
I had to go to a farm supply store in town one day to get some welding supplies and she was really excited to go ...it was Chick Days!
The store would sell baby chickens, ducks and rabbits in the spring and that was one of her favorite things to see.
After I gathered what I needed, it was off to the back of the store to see the baby animals. She stuck her little fingers in each rabbit cage and touched each ones fur and then went on to the large empty watering troughs they kept the chicks in.
First, she peered over the top of the baby duck pen and watched them scramble about, then on to some tiny yellow baby chickens, where she giggled as they cheeped away and scratched at the bottom of the pen.
The next pen had some dark colored baby chickens in it, and the way the pens were laid out, the heat lamps to keep them warm for that pen were clamped to the outside of the pen, rather than the inside like the others.
As she stood on her tip toes and wandered down the side of the pen she began to draw closer to the lamps and felt the heat coming off of them. She would back away, but kept going back towards the lamps.
She got fairly close to one at one time, and rubbed the side of her head as she backed away.
She peered into the pen again...then looked back at the yellow chicks, and back to the dark colored ones.
“Daddy! She exclaimed. “'dese ones is BOINT!!
Out of the mouths of babes...
The initial shock of Dads troubles (and the bickering) calmed after awhile and life went on.
Sandy had taken classes and became a nurse, which paid very well, so life got a little easier.
I was growing tired of working at shops that paid such a little percentage and I was developing quite a following of loyal customers that wanted me to work on their cars on the side. I thought why not just start my own place?
I took some business classes to learn the ins and outs of bookkeeping, taxes and the day to day of running a business and sold my beloved ‘57 Chevy to get enough money to put a small garage up at our house.
The business took off rather well and the kids enjoyed having me back home again. My son Jacob was now six years old and loved to follow me around the shop and became my helper of sorts. Where ever I was, Jacob was nearby. He was an excellent “wrench getter” and came in handy with his little hands to reach bolts in tight spaces.
It was also about that time I became friends with a man named Denny.
Denny was somehow distantly related to Sandy, and when he started coming around, Sandy warned me...be careful around him, he used to hang around with a pretty wild crowd. (Sound like someone you know?)
We instantly hit it off very well and even if he wasn’t getting his car worked on, he’d come over and hang around now and then. He had the same passion for old cars I did and even had an impressive collection of nice cars of his own. Denny was a retired GM worker and he did relate a lot of stories about those he hung around with that sounded all too familiar to me.
He was at the shop one day looking over my new shop truck...a sort of rolling business card if you will. It was a 1980 Chevy El Camino that I had painted up to show what I could do and I had also put in a powerful 350 truck engine in it.
Denny marveled at the light little car/truck with nearly 300 horsepower and naturally asked- “How’s it run?”
I tossed him the keys and told him to take it for a spin...see what ya think.
Jacob and I went back to work and after awhile Denny came back with a huge grin on his face that told me he had enjoyed his ride.
“Well...whatda’ya think...fast enough for ya?” I asked.
“Holy shit!” he said “that thing goes like a cat shittin’ peach seeds!!...oops” he said as he seen Jacob standing there smiling innocently at him.
Denny apologized for swearing in front of him, but it was no big deal...he’d heard worse than that before.
A few weeks later when a lady from town came in to get an oil change and some maintenance done on her car .
The lady was a very good and increasing loyal customer that paid well and always on time, but she was extremely religious. (not that there’s anything wrong with that)
She was one of those who went to church every day and even had a prayer room in her house. Her car was plastered with religious symbols and even had a plastic Jesus statue glued to the dash and a cross and rosary hanging from the mirror.
Her daughter is a NUN at the Vatican...that’s how hardcore religious she was.
As I toiled away at her car, Jacob had made himself a good host. The two of them were in the driveway just out of the shop and he was making conversation with her on a wide variety of subjects from his age, his pedal tractor, school, his sister, the weather...everything.
He was a veritable chatterbox.
As the sun shone down on my nearby El Camino the lady began to admire the deep blue paint with extra sparkly metal flakes in it.
“My... that car sure looks nice.” she said to Jacob.
“That’s my dad’s car.” I heard him say.
“Did he paint it too?”
“Yep”
“Bet he’s really proud of it, isn’t he?”
“Yep” Jacob told her
“An’ ya know what else?”
“What?” she asked as she smiled at this precious little child.
“That thing goes like a cat shittin’ peach seeds!”
Sandy had taken classes and became a nurse, which paid very well, so life got a little easier.
I was growing tired of working at shops that paid such a little percentage and I was developing quite a following of loyal customers that wanted me to work on their cars on the side. I thought why not just start my own place?
I took some business classes to learn the ins and outs of bookkeeping, taxes and the day to day of running a business and sold my beloved ‘57 Chevy to get enough money to put a small garage up at our house.
The business took off rather well and the kids enjoyed having me back home again. My son Jacob was now six years old and loved to follow me around the shop and became my helper of sorts. Where ever I was, Jacob was nearby. He was an excellent “wrench getter” and came in handy with his little hands to reach bolts in tight spaces.
It was also about that time I became friends with a man named Denny.
Denny was somehow distantly related to Sandy, and when he started coming around, Sandy warned me...be careful around him, he used to hang around with a pretty wild crowd. (Sound like someone you know?)
We instantly hit it off very well and even if he wasn’t getting his car worked on, he’d come over and hang around now and then. He had the same passion for old cars I did and even had an impressive collection of nice cars of his own. Denny was a retired GM worker and he did relate a lot of stories about those he hung around with that sounded all too familiar to me.
He was at the shop one day looking over my new shop truck...a sort of rolling business card if you will. It was a 1980 Chevy El Camino that I had painted up to show what I could do and I had also put in a powerful 350 truck engine in it.
Denny marveled at the light little car/truck with nearly 300 horsepower and naturally asked- “How’s it run?”
I tossed him the keys and told him to take it for a spin...see what ya think.
Jacob and I went back to work and after awhile Denny came back with a huge grin on his face that told me he had enjoyed his ride.
“Well...whatda’ya think...fast enough for ya?” I asked.
“Holy shit!” he said “that thing goes like a cat shittin’ peach seeds!!...oops” he said as he seen Jacob standing there smiling innocently at him.
Denny apologized for swearing in front of him, but it was no big deal...he’d heard worse than that before.
A few weeks later when a lady from town came in to get an oil change and some maintenance done on her car .
The lady was a very good and increasing loyal customer that paid well and always on time, but she was extremely religious. (not that there’s anything wrong with that)
She was one of those who went to church every day and even had a prayer room in her house. Her car was plastered with religious symbols and even had a plastic Jesus statue glued to the dash and a cross and rosary hanging from the mirror.
Her daughter is a NUN at the Vatican...that’s how hardcore religious she was.
As I toiled away at her car, Jacob had made himself a good host. The two of them were in the driveway just out of the shop and he was making conversation with her on a wide variety of subjects from his age, his pedal tractor, school, his sister, the weather...everything.
He was a veritable chatterbox.
As the sun shone down on my nearby El Camino the lady began to admire the deep blue paint with extra sparkly metal flakes in it.
“My... that car sure looks nice.” she said to Jacob.
“That’s my dad’s car.” I heard him say.
“Did he paint it too?”
“Yep”
“Bet he’s really proud of it, isn’t he?”
“Yep” Jacob told her
“An’ ya know what else?”
“What?” she asked as she smiled at this precious little child.
“That thing goes like a cat shittin’ peach seeds!”
Friday, October 16, 2009
I arrived at his house the same time the police did and Dad was by himself but very shaken.
According to his accounts, the “two big guys” left after he told them he had a gun in the house and if they didn’t leave, they’d be sorry. (So much for don’t argue with ‘em Dad)
The police asked him to describe them, or their car, possibly a license number and
all he would tell them was they were wearing suits and they were big. One time he described them as both white. A few minutes later, one of them was black, the other white.
The suits they were wearing changed in color too and the car description went from a black Lincoln to a light blue Cadillac.
I could tell he was very confused and scared and told him to come and sit down so he could gather his wits. His accounts and descriptions continued to vary so much he just wasn’t making any sense.
He did keep one constant- despite the fact he couldn’t describe them with any accuracy, he was dead sure it was the same two guys we (as in He and I) borrowed “all that money from”.
I told the police I had NOT borrowed any money from anyone along with Dad.
“Are you sure it was me? I asked
“Yes...dont’cha remember?”
“It wasn’t Mike or Kathy ?” (My brother and other sister)
“No”
“How ‘bout Nancy?” I asked.
The police even noticed the change in him...he went from rattling on and on to saying hardly anything at all.
“I don’t think so” he said quietly after an awkward silence.
As the police tried a few more questions I noticed a piece of paper taped to the wall near his phone in Nancy’s handwriting that listed her phone number as well as that of her gentleman friend and her two daughters along with explicit directions to call if he had any problems.
Another faded sheet of paper that had been there for years with my brother Mike’s number, my sister Kathy’s number as well as the number I used to have, had lines drawn through the numbers with a black magic marker so the numbers weren’t legible.
I noticed a business card from the Ford dealer in Sandusky I had given him many years ago sitting on the counter near the phone. As I picked it up and looked at it, I realized for the first time the numbers for the dealership and the place I now worked were only a few numbers different.
Apperently when he called me, he dialed the numbers wrong and against incredible odds dialed where I NOW worked by sheer accident. (thanks again Mom)
The police eventually left, telling me there wasn’t much they could do because of how much his story varied, but if anything this happens again don’t hesitate to call.
“Has he been getting forgetful? Misplacing things? Maybe feeling confused lately?” they asked me.
“Not that I’m aware of” (how’s that for a politician’s answer?)
After the police left, I sat and talked with Dad for awhile and he began to calm down. I was happy to see him again and we began to catch up. I showed him a picture of Margaret, the granddaughter he hadn’t met yet, and a recent picture of Jacob in his favorite summer outfit, blue jean bib overalls with no shirt and tiny light brown work boots.
He chuckled at the picture and said-
“He sure is growin’...that’s Jimmy, right?”
“No, Dad..it’s Jacob...remember the little bruiser?” I said as I made the same Hulk Hogan gestures with my arms Dad did when he seen him for the first time. (Jacob was a BIG baby and had arms like Popeye)
“Oh yeah” he said as he looked back at Margaret’s picture.
“And this one....that’s Debbie....right?” (Debbie is Nancy’s oldest and, at the time, 14 years old)
“No Dad...that is your new Granddaughter Margaret, Eillen...and her initials are M.E.G....just like Meg McKechan...remember her?”
“Who?”
“Meg McKechan.”
“Never heard of her.”
It was starting to become clear to me Dad was beginning to slip. Meg was a big part of our lives and her and her sister Flora helped take care of Mom when she was sick.
“So, now that you’re calmed down a little...can you tell me more about the guys that were here today?” I asked.
“What guys?”
“You called me and said two guys were here...wanting money?”
“Ooohhh, Those guys.” I listened intently, hoping he could give me clearer details.
“You didn’t have to come here after all...the cops chased ‘em away.”
I didn’t really know even IF anyone had been there at this point, and what they wanted if they were. I only knew Dad was showing signs of Alzeimers and felt he needed help.
I thought of calling Nancy, to let her know what happened and see if she had been noticing the signs I did, but I wisely called my brother instead.
To make a long story short, all of us agreed Dad was needing help of some sort, at very least someone to check on him every day. I volunteered to do that as I was 20 miles away and they were all over 100 miles away. Nancy seen the logic in that, but it was clear she wasn’t happy about it.
Next, with Dad in this state someone had to manage his finances, and Kathy and I felt Mike was the best choice for that. He was the oldest, most level headed and didn’t take sides when it came to Dad. I wasn’t surprised to see Nancy volunteer quickly to handle his finances, but I was surprised to hear Mike oppose that.
Through some police work on his part (he was a Detroit cop), he uncovered a lot of unsettling facts.
First, and foremost, Nancy’s gentleman friend was quite a con artist and owed a LOT of people, some of them quite shady, large sums of money.
To make matters worse he had given his home address for a lot of his “ventures” as DAD’S address, rather than his own address back in the city, so there could very well have been a couple of “knee breakers” at Dad’s house that day.
Nancy didn’t seem to have a good handle on her own affairs as well, and it made us all angry she had crossed out our phone numbers. He needed all of us at that time.
Nancy filed papers with the court to have Power of Attorney over Dad’s affairs and despite the rest of us pleading with Dad to reconsider, the court allowed it to go through.
She was able to convince Dad that he had to give it to her as the rest of us were trying to get his money and, once again, seeing Dad was going to get harder and harder, only this time it wasn’t by choice.
According to his accounts, the “two big guys” left after he told them he had a gun in the house and if they didn’t leave, they’d be sorry. (So much for don’t argue with ‘em Dad)
The police asked him to describe them, or their car, possibly a license number and
all he would tell them was they were wearing suits and they were big. One time he described them as both white. A few minutes later, one of them was black, the other white.
The suits they were wearing changed in color too and the car description went from a black Lincoln to a light blue Cadillac.
I could tell he was very confused and scared and told him to come and sit down so he could gather his wits. His accounts and descriptions continued to vary so much he just wasn’t making any sense.
He did keep one constant- despite the fact he couldn’t describe them with any accuracy, he was dead sure it was the same two guys we (as in He and I) borrowed “all that money from”.
I told the police I had NOT borrowed any money from anyone along with Dad.
“Are you sure it was me? I asked
“Yes...dont’cha remember?”
“It wasn’t Mike or Kathy ?” (My brother and other sister)
“No”
“How ‘bout Nancy?” I asked.
The police even noticed the change in him...he went from rattling on and on to saying hardly anything at all.
“I don’t think so” he said quietly after an awkward silence.
As the police tried a few more questions I noticed a piece of paper taped to the wall near his phone in Nancy’s handwriting that listed her phone number as well as that of her gentleman friend and her two daughters along with explicit directions to call if he had any problems.
Another faded sheet of paper that had been there for years with my brother Mike’s number, my sister Kathy’s number as well as the number I used to have, had lines drawn through the numbers with a black magic marker so the numbers weren’t legible.
I noticed a business card from the Ford dealer in Sandusky I had given him many years ago sitting on the counter near the phone. As I picked it up and looked at it, I realized for the first time the numbers for the dealership and the place I now worked were only a few numbers different.
Apperently when he called me, he dialed the numbers wrong and against incredible odds dialed where I NOW worked by sheer accident. (thanks again Mom)
The police eventually left, telling me there wasn’t much they could do because of how much his story varied, but if anything this happens again don’t hesitate to call.
“Has he been getting forgetful? Misplacing things? Maybe feeling confused lately?” they asked me.
“Not that I’m aware of” (how’s that for a politician’s answer?)
After the police left, I sat and talked with Dad for awhile and he began to calm down. I was happy to see him again and we began to catch up. I showed him a picture of Margaret, the granddaughter he hadn’t met yet, and a recent picture of Jacob in his favorite summer outfit, blue jean bib overalls with no shirt and tiny light brown work boots.
He chuckled at the picture and said-
“He sure is growin’...that’s Jimmy, right?”
“No, Dad..it’s Jacob...remember the little bruiser?” I said as I made the same Hulk Hogan gestures with my arms Dad did when he seen him for the first time. (Jacob was a BIG baby and had arms like Popeye)
“Oh yeah” he said as he looked back at Margaret’s picture.
“And this one....that’s Debbie....right?” (Debbie is Nancy’s oldest and, at the time, 14 years old)
“No Dad...that is your new Granddaughter Margaret, Eillen...and her initials are M.E.G....just like Meg McKechan...remember her?”
“Who?”
“Meg McKechan.”
“Never heard of her.”
It was starting to become clear to me Dad was beginning to slip. Meg was a big part of our lives and her and her sister Flora helped take care of Mom when she was sick.
“So, now that you’re calmed down a little...can you tell me more about the guys that were here today?” I asked.
“What guys?”
“You called me and said two guys were here...wanting money?”
“Ooohhh, Those guys.” I listened intently, hoping he could give me clearer details.
“You didn’t have to come here after all...the cops chased ‘em away.”
I didn’t really know even IF anyone had been there at this point, and what they wanted if they were. I only knew Dad was showing signs of Alzeimers and felt he needed help.
I thought of calling Nancy, to let her know what happened and see if she had been noticing the signs I did, but I wisely called my brother instead.
To make a long story short, all of us agreed Dad was needing help of some sort, at very least someone to check on him every day. I volunteered to do that as I was 20 miles away and they were all over 100 miles away. Nancy seen the logic in that, but it was clear she wasn’t happy about it.
Next, with Dad in this state someone had to manage his finances, and Kathy and I felt Mike was the best choice for that. He was the oldest, most level headed and didn’t take sides when it came to Dad. I wasn’t surprised to see Nancy volunteer quickly to handle his finances, but I was surprised to hear Mike oppose that.
Through some police work on his part (he was a Detroit cop), he uncovered a lot of unsettling facts.
First, and foremost, Nancy’s gentleman friend was quite a con artist and owed a LOT of people, some of them quite shady, large sums of money.
To make matters worse he had given his home address for a lot of his “ventures” as DAD’S address, rather than his own address back in the city, so there could very well have been a couple of “knee breakers” at Dad’s house that day.
Nancy didn’t seem to have a good handle on her own affairs as well, and it made us all angry she had crossed out our phone numbers. He needed all of us at that time.
Nancy filed papers with the court to have Power of Attorney over Dad’s affairs and despite the rest of us pleading with Dad to reconsider, the court allowed it to go through.
She was able to convince Dad that he had to give it to her as the rest of us were trying to get his money and, once again, seeing Dad was going to get harder and harder, only this time it wasn’t by choice.
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