Month: March 2016

Quarry Story 3

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Technically speaking, this is not a quarry story but since it took place on the road to the quarry I figured that’s close enough.

Have you ever ridden on an Army tank? Well, I did once, and that’s what this story is about. Pay close attention, learn, and then don’t ever do anything like it.

It was spring and we had been having our share of rain. The rivers were up and had overflowed their banks earlier in the week. The Walnut River, just south of town, was slowly returning to it’s normal size and we decided to check it out. I was 13 or so and my friend, Jack, was 15. You can get your driver’s license when you are 14 so Jack had gotten himself a job at a neighborhood grocery store, saved his money, and bought himself a 1935 Chevrolet. We headed for the river. It wasn’t much of a trip. From the edge of town, at what I remember was 4th Street, you crossed the Santa Fe railroad tracks and wandered down a country road for about a quarter mile to the steel bridge that crossed the Walnut River. It was one of those fine-looking steel bridges that looked like it had been made from a giant Erector Set.

The gravel road was still a little wet and muddy but we got to the bridge, crossed it, and continued along. About 100 yards south of the bridge was a place you could pull off the road and follow the tracks worn by many other cars to get closer to the river. At this point, the river bank was normally 5 or 6 feet above the river. It was a good place to fish from and we were told by older guys that it also served as a lover’s lane. We decided to check the river so Jack pulled off onto this track that paralleled the road and stopped and we got out. We looked at the river and messed around and finally got back in the car. Jack tried to drive off but the wheels started spinning. He was a good driver but couldn’t overcome the wet grass and mud and the fact that the ground sloped toward the river. I got out and tried to push but it didn’t do any good. We decided to walk back to town and call Jack’s Dad for help.

We got back to town and crossed the tracks and the first building in view at that time was the National Guard Armory. We decided to go in there and use the phone. The National Guard guy that took care of the Armory and answered the phone and did all the chores was a friend of ours named Billy Joe Davis. Billy Joe liked baseball and we had both played catch with him and hit a lot of fly balls and grounders with him. We told Billy Joe our story and asked to use the phone. Billy Joe said there wasn’t any point in making the call and upsetting Jack’s Dad because he’d be happy to pull us out. He said we should go out in the street and wait while he locked up and we could close the gate behind him when he came out. After a few minutes we heard an engine revving up and here comes Billy Joe driving a National Guard tank and yelling at us to shut the gate and climb on. We scrambled up onto the thing and Billy took off across the tracks. It just took a few minutes to get to the bridge and as we approached it, Jack and I looked at each other. Billy Joe may have crossed the bridge many times in a tank but it scared the devil out of us. That bridge looked pretty flimsy compared to this big chunk of iron we were riding on. Billy didn’t even slow down. He rolled over that bridge like it was him and Patton crossing the Rhine.

The rest of it was kind of anti-climatic. It just took a couple of minutes to get to the car. Billy Joe had brought a chain and he hooked up to Jack’s car and pulled us out. We thanked him and waved good-bye and headed back to town. I don’t even want to think of the possible consequences of “borrowing” a tank or running it off into the river. If you’ll excuse me I’ll just say “tanks for the memory”.

Dave Thomas
October 24, 2013

 

Holy Molar!

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Our son, Doug, was having trouble with a wisdom tooth. An out-patient appointment was scheduled with an Oral Surgeon. Doug was in his late teens but since we knew they would have to knock him out, his Mother, Pat, drove him in. The surgery went well but Doug is a big guy and they had to give him a pretty hefty dose of the anesthetic. On the way home, he was awake but was kind of goofy.

They got home okay and Pat needed to go to the grocery store. She told our daughter, Terri, that Doug was still “out of it” and she should keep an eye on him so he wouldn’t hurt himself or try to go anywhere.

Pat bought her groceries and when she got close to home she could see Terri sitting on the grass of the front yard and watching Doug. Doug’s little red, Ford Courier pickup was sitting out front and Doug was inside the cab. When Pat got out of the car she could see that Doug had removed the inner panels from both doors of the truck and was now working on the headliner. Doug’s eyes were still kind of glazed over as she asked him what he was doing. He told her it was a job that needed to be done so he thought he should get right on it. Pat told him to stop and then turned to Terri and asked her why she had let Doug do something crazy like that. Terri said, “Well, you said not to let him get hurt and I thought he would be okay with this.”

Dave Thomas
January 18, 2015

 

Bat Stuff

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In 1974, we rented a 35 foot RV for our trip back to Kansas to visit our folks. Russ and Doug would be 16 in the fall and we figured this might be our last chance for a big family vacation trip. Terri was going to be 13 so she was old enough to share the grown-up attractions along the way and enjoy the trip also. So that Terri would have a buddy to share things with, we invited Susan Trivett as she and Terri were good friends of the same age.

The boys were typical teenagers, rebellious, and not about to admit that they might be enjoying something. Also, this was that sad time in history when all boys thought they should have long hair hanging down to their shoulders. I hated it but at the same time was proud that they took care of their hair and kept it clean.

We took the southern route and made it all the way to Las Cruces, NM the first night. The next morning we got up and headed for Carlsbad Caverns. At the Caverns, we took the tour and all enjoyed the spectacular sights. The boys were in their teenage mode and complaining about everything though we were pretty sure that they were paying strict attention to the tour guide and taking it all in. We enjoyed visiting the different chambers and hearing the stories of the guide. We were all fascinated when we heard about the number of bats living in the cave and about the thousands of tons of bat guano that had been deposited on the floors.

We reached the end of the tour and headed back outside. The boys, though absorbing the wealth of information dispensed by the tour guide, had complained non-stop. Russ had been particularly bad about it, so Pat, in an effort to lighten things up, (and maybe get back at him a little) told Russ that it looked like he had some of that bat guano in his hair. Susan chimed in and said she saw it, too. The rest of us jumped in and started pointing and laughing and Russ was completely mortified. He ran to the nearest restroom, wetted some towels and started scrubbing his hair. I don’t remember how long he worked at it but it was some time before he realized it was all a joke. Always a good sport, his face turned red but he was able to laugh a little. We had a great trip and shared a lot of sights and Pat and I believe that the kids will have nothing but good memories of the trip.

Dave Thomas
February 21, 2015

 

Seaplane Story 8: Oops!

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We were flying a routine patrol of the China Sea. We left Naval Air Station, Iwakuni and flew across Japan’s Inland Sea which is so picturesque with what seems to be hundreds of islands. They are mountain peaks sticking out of the water and are tilled and farmed right up the hillside to the top. We flew past the southern tip of Korea and were soon scooting along just south of China. It was a stormy day with lots of wind and big black clouds that blocked our view of water most of the time. The wind became so violent we decided to cage the radar antenna to avoid damage. To “cage” the antenna means to put the system on stand-by which locks the antenna in a straight ahead position and doesn’t allow the normal side-to-side scanning operation. We tooled along like this, thinking that we would soon run out of the storm and could resume a normal patrol. All of a sudden there was a break in the clouds and we could see the surface of the water. There was a strip of yellow against the normal brownish color of the sea. looked like a yellow river was flowing into the sea. That’s exactly what it was…the Yellow River! Everybody was yelling as I switched on the radar and the first sweep showed that we were just a couple of miles off shore. We were in the middle of the Cold War and we didn’t know if we would be greeted by the Chinese Air Force or if the anti-aircraft guns would start firing. Our pilot, Lt. Surovik, jerked that plane around and we got the heck out of there. Oops!

Another time, we were tooling along our assigned course and the crewman  who was sitting at the port lookout station in the aft section of the plane comes up on the intercom and says” look out the port side!” We looked out our windows and there was a Russian MIG flying along side us with a Chinese pilot at the controls. Oops! In order to slow down to our speed the guy had his flaps down and his dive brakes extended. He didn’t smile or wave but just stared at us and gave us the “stink eye.” We were in International airspace but there was no one around and he could have bagged us and no one would have ever known what happened. Oops again!

Dave Dunn asked if we ever had any obstructions in the sea lanes when we were taking off or landing in the bay. It was pretty rare to have a problem. The sea lanes were  marked by a series of buoys and the locals were aware of the traffic. Also, when air operations were being conducted there was always a Navy Crash Boat on station. It was painted International Orange and could move fast to herd errant boats away. The seaplanes also had their own Control Tower and the Air Traffic Controllers were supposed to watch for trouble. It did happen that one evening, at dusk, we were coming in and had a little problem. Evidently, the Air Traffic Controllers were tired and weren’t paying attention. I heard our pilot request clearance to land. The tower came back with a “Cleared to land.” The next thing I heard was our pilot saying “Crap!” And then, he said, “Tower, look to your right, at 2 o’clock!” It turned out there was a destroyer chugging right up the bay. Oops! The tower told us to take a wave-off and go around again and then apologized. Well, we went around and then landed and got the wheels on and got pulled up the ramp. The pilot was the first one out of the hatch and said he was going down to the tower to have a little talk with the boys. Well, our pilot, Lt. Surovik,  was 6 foot 5 inches tall and looked like he ate horse shoes for breakfast and picked his teeth with a crow bar. Our crew was happy that we wouldn’t be in the tower when he got there. Oops, oops, and oops!

One day a crew was preparing for a JATO take-off for a training flight. The Ordinance man, Smith, loaded the JATO bottles on a fork lift and headed for the plane. As you will recall, the JATO bottles are hung from the crew hatches (doors) in the aft section of the plane. Smith was approaching the plane slowly, slipping the clutch and trying to baby up to it. We all knew that this particular fork lift had a “trick” clutch that should have been replaced a long time ago but this guy thought he could handle it. Well, all of a sudden the clutch engaged and the fork lift leaped forward plunging the forks through the skin of the aircraft on either side of the hatch! Oops! The forks didn’t strike any of the structural members. They just went through the skin so the damage was minor. However, the damage to Smith’s ego was mighty big and we rubbed it in every chance we got. Oops!

Dave Thomas
March 10, 2012. Revised February 17, 2015