Wednesday, October 8, 2008

short note

I have been sick as a dog for the last couple weeks. I will post some new stuff soon

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

East County Baby Hahaha

Our New Neighbors

In the summer of 1970, we moved into our new house. As far as I was concerned, it was in the country. In fact, it was in Lemon Grove. Crane Street to be exact. I don’t remember moving much furniture. As I recall we did not have much and the lady who sold the house (Mrs. Quirk) was leaving some of hers.

My mom did not take part in the move as she was in Kansas visiting her mother. I believe the first night there was the 3rd or 4th of July. There were firecrackers and in the distance fireworks. So I am guessing 4th of July.

It was weird as it was just us “guys” – my dad, me (12), Roger (10 yrs old), David (6 yrs) and Gary (5yrs). None of us had beds so Dad said we will “camp out” on the living room floor. We all thought that was very cool. The 2 young ones and my dad fell asleep right away. Me and Rog (freaking out on the move and our new house) were awake for awhile. Of course, you couldn’t sleep as Dad is a champion snoring machine.

As me and Rog lay there talking , there was a lot of shouting coming from across the street. We couldn’t see what was happening as our house was on the east side of the street and our front window was at least 10 feet below the front window of the neighbor. As it turned out that did not make a difference.

Right across the street from us, a man was at the top of his stairs yelling at his wife at the bottom of the stairs. Even at 12 yrs old, I knew they were both drunk. Roger and I took up positions at the front window and watched the action.

There was a lot of swearing and insults. We couldn’t hear very well because our front door was closed. About this time, my Dad woke up. He started to give us shit about going to sleep until we clued him into the action. He was just like us and joined us peeking through the front window. He got pissed when he couldn’t hear what was going on – so he opened the front door. I remember looking at Roger and we both thought – YES! All three of us were now spying through the front window.

Across the street, the lady started up the stairs. Which according to my Dad a HUGE mistake. The stairs were concrete set on wrought iron with no riser and an iron railing. (I found out later there were 17 of them). She got about half way up and her husband met her there. They yelled for a couple minutes and then to all of our surprise he punched her in the face knocking her down the stairs. My Dad let out an audible “Fuck!” – me and Rog just stared.

She hit the bottom of the stairs and rolled into the driveway. The driveway was really steep. She didn’t stop until she was in the street. To say the least, we were all stunned. Before we could say anything, she got up and was yelling again! Her husband had gone into the house by this time. She picked herself up and went up the stairs and slammed the front door.

We all kind of waited for a minute. Then my Dad said, “Let ME tell your Mom about this ok?.” We laid down on the carpet in our sleeping bags and went to sleep. That was my first day in Lemon Grove.


From 1983

The Crash

I don’t really remember the sound of the crash. The first thing I thought was – “Why is my head on the brake pedal?”

The lights of emergency vehicles were the next thing I recognized. Then voices (I could not pick out who was talking) but they sounded familiar. As I regained more hearing, I could hear Rory crying “I killed Vin” over and over. I thought that was strange - as far as I could tell I wasn’t dead!

I pushed myself up into the seat of the truck and took a look around. The first thing that came to my mind was – “What the fuck happened here?” There were El Cajon PD, El Cajon Fire, CHP, and paramedics from La Mesa. There also was a shitload of people standing in from of houses.

I opened the passenger side door and walked to where my friends were on the curb. Before I got to them, Rory ran up crying “You’re alive!” I thought what a dumb thing to say. Tony & Steve were there also and they were white as ghosts (or maybe they thought they were seeing one. Ha). I felt kind of dizzy so I tried to sit down on the curb.

As I was sitting down, a paramedic came up and started asking me a bunch of questions. I could see his mouth move and hear his voice but his words were jumbled in my brain. He reached down to my fat stomach and pinched it. I was pissed. I slapped his hands away. I looked down and my shirt was torn where he pinched me. I remember thinking – “How did that happen?” He was trying to find out how deep the puncture wound was. What puncture wound?

I looked at my gut and sure enough there was blood coming from me. I told him to back off. As I started to take inventory of my body parts, I realized I was not breathing so well. It fucking hurt. I moved my arms and legs around, did some stretches (that hurt) and told the paramedic I was ok.

The PD gave Rory a field sobriety test which he failed miserably. He told them he was in shock because he thought he had killed me. They let him go. All four of us, Rory, me, Tony, and Steve piled into Steve’s truck and went to Rory’s. We were there a couple of hours when I told Steve I had to get home. I did not want to let on that I was having a lot of trouble breathing. The ride home and the couple of beers must have been good for me as by the time I got home I was breathing ok. I went to bed feeling sore but otherwise ok.

I woke up the next morning and I was not ok. I went to swing my legs out of bed and they did not move. Not a good feeling. I finally got out of bed, got my legs to respond and put my robe on. I was living at my mom’s house so I had to walk up 14 stairs to get inside her house. I can tell you now – that is the hardest thing I have done in my life. She met me at the door and asked how my night went.

I said I was in an accident and my chest hurt. I did not have a mirror in my room – so when I opened my robe I was as shocked as she was. I had underwear on and I was bruised from my neck to my knees. Big Very Purple Bruise and a hole in my gut. Looked like I got shot. She freaked and wanted me to go to the ER. I did not want that. She took me to the family doctor. When he saw my bruise he was impressed!! Ha.

I had x-rays, probes, and so forth. My injuries came out to be 2 broken ribs, a concussion and a ¾ inch puncture wound. He gave me a rib belt (which I ditched ASAP), some pain killers, and a tetanus shot. I went home and tried to recall what happened.

As best as we could figure, this is what caused my pain. I was riding with Rory in his truck and we were going to my brother’s in El Cajon. We were coming from fishing at Fiesta Island. We had all been drinking. I remember looking for my seat belt all the way. It was shoved down between the seats. The weather was kind of shitty and raining a little.

As we took the Chase Ave. exit from 8 East, the truck broke loose to the left. Rory over corrected and we slammed into 10 mail boxes and a telephone pole. We broke the pole and ended up facing the wrong way on Chase. When we hit the pole, I flew across the cab of the truck, breaking off the radio knobs and hitting the column gear shift with my gut. Rory said when he got out I was not breathing.

Everything turned out ok for us. No DUI – but Rory paid for the mail boxes and the phone pole.