Holy shit my little corner of the intertubes is dusty. Where have I been all this time? I have no idea. Earth I think. For a while, I was miserable at my job and did not feel like writing much. Then, one day I was magicly transferred back to place that sucks a whole lot less and started to feel like my old self. I then remembered this little blog o’mine is not about me. It is for Madaghan so one day she can use my ramblings as sort of a family archive and reminiscence what a drunk her father was and how much he loved writing about building a bar. So, I think I will start writing again. And yes, there will be bar posts. But there will be more family pictures with wise ass captions.
So now what? Do I publish a piece with a ton of pictures of all the shit we have been doing since my last blog post? Or just carry on from today?
I think I will post some highlight pics on a monthly basis until I catch up… it is only been since my last post on Veterans Day 2013. Daaam. We gotta go waay back.
- Boys and Girls Club Fundraising dinner. My wife forced her company to donate alot…ALOT of money to the B & G Club. Her companys was the only “Platnium” level sponsor. Madaghan goes to B & G everyday before and after school, and it is a great organization. They were so nice they invited us to a black tie affair with ice sculptures, drinks, and dancing. I was very out of place in my beige suit. But, after a few drinks, I did not give a shit.
Q: Who is a Veteran?
A ‘Veteran’ — whether active duty, honorably discharged, retired, or reserve — is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to ‘The United States of America,’ for an amount of ‘up to, and including his life
Has it been a year already since my last Veteran’s Day post? If you know a Veteran, please reach out to them and thank them for sacrificing time and money to defend the stars and stripes.
Why time? Well…Most people work Mon through Friday 9am to 5pm. Military life is not like that at all. From the soldier on the front lines to the cook in the galley to the Navy Seal Sniper, all service members sacrifice time with their families to stand a watch, cook biscuits or take head shots on enemy officers.
Why money? Our military is grossly underpaid. Sure you have housing paid for, but the amount of money left over at the end of the month in a servicemen’s paycheck is not enough. It is no coincidence that there are tons of pawn shops near military installations. If they did the same job in the civilian world, the pay scale would be alot different.
I served on the USS Bataan (LHD-5) in the US Navy as an Intelligence Specialist from 1996-2000. Click here to find out what the hell an Intelligence Specialist is.
So please take two seconds out and thank a Veteran today.
My Junior Bridesmaid getting her dress fitted for Aunt Diane’s wedding.
Just as leaves changing on trees is a sure sign of fall, around the O’Shea Estates a sure sign is the delivery of Wood Pellets (a whole ‘nother story) and the covering of Lake O’Shea.
This year, the pellets and the Lake were both covered and delivered on the same day:
Wood Pellet delivery day means stacking alot of 40lb bags. The tractor can only lift 1,000 pounds and each pallet is 2,000 pounds (1 ton). So, I would pull the tractor up to the pallet, load about 9 bags into the bucket then drive the tractor into the garage and unload said 9 bags onto an empty pallet, stacking as high as I can reach. Repeating this process about 33 more times.
Garage Before Pic:
Garage After (2 days later)
Up next I will be removing the bucket of the tractor and replacing it with the plow- a sure sign of Winter.
This is the story of my 9-11 experience. There is not going to be to many pictures here. I have lots of pictures, but I do not want to put them on the internet because, well, they are mine.
If you are interested in seeing pictures, feel free to come by my bar anytime and I will show them all to you.
I have been meaning to put this down in writing for a while so here it goes:
9:00 am: I was in the shower getting ready for a 12pm to 8pm shift when the phone rang. “Dude, a plane just hit the twin towers.” The towers were located in the 1st precinct and my precinct is darn close. So, I thought..a bit more overtime for me tonight, as I imagined some poor old grizzeled solo pilot suffering a heart attack clipping the roof of one of the towers on his way down into the Hudson. Watching in disbelief with a towel wrapped around me, I hovered in the living room of my East Meadow basement apartment soaking the carpet as I watched the nightmare on TV.
As the towers burned, I thought better call Mom. As a rookie cop, my hours changed so often that no one in my family knew what my schedule was. Hell I did not know what it was. I sat and called mom letting her know I was home and not at work. Next call was to my partner, Rob Friedrich who was already in his car on his way to pick me up. Listening to the nightmare on the TV in the background, I quickly threw on whatever clothes I could find. I ran out the door, up the stairs and out into the street all in one swift move. Remember this is before I became fat.
9:30 am: Waiting for Rob, I called my father and inquired about the status of the LIRR just in case the roads were closed, backed up or just a mess. After talking to my father, I decided trains were not a good option. Rob pulled up and I hopped into his red Mercury Cougar. Driving down the Southern State parkway, I called in and was informed that the muster point was Floyd Bennet Field in Brooklyn. Rob hopped up onto the median and drove as fast as he could. When we got to the Belt Parkway, we discovered the NY State Troopers closed the Belt Parkway. It was now only open to FDNY, NYPD, EMS only. I think we hit 100mph on the now clear parkway. We arrived at Floyd Bennet Field.
2:o0pm: After signing in, we hopped onto a bus and headed to the precinct. Why did we not go straight to the precinct from the start is a question that still bothers me to this day. I was a rookie and did what I was told. Little did I know that the person that told us to go to Floyd Bennet Field was a complete fucking moron. From the precinct we were directed to go to South St and Pike St, Pathmark parking lot. Once there, I saw a large crowd of cops wearing uniform shirts with regular blue jeans. “uh oh” I thought. Everyone was running around gathering supplies. Mostly painter’s masks and flashlights….and gloves.
5:00 pm: I was assigned to a Mobile Patrol Unit with Lt. Donohue, Rebecca Mayo, Greg Rodriguez, Mark Restivo, Stephanie Brinkley, and Rob Ferriolo. Coming down Church St, I got my first glimpse. To me, it looked like we arrived on a movie set. I thought it was all fake. Has to be fake right? This can’t happen. I remember scrambling to help look for survivors. One memory I have is a Lieutenant running around asking if anyone knew morse code.
“Why?” I asked.
” Because we think there are people trapped in the rubble you can see them flashing something!!” he exclaimed.
“What are the odds some financial white collar guy trapped by rubble knows morse code?” I asked him without thinking. If I had thought about it, I would have just shut up. But the words just came out with reckless abandon. Like bullets fired from a gun, they could not be taken back. He looked at me, actually stared at me and just smirked. I think when the haze of adjrenaline cleared his mind, he knew I had a point. Still, they could be random flashes from people trapped. So off we went climbing the razor sharp steel pile. As we got closer, we could see that the flashes of light were just random reflections from plastic streamers hanging. What exactly those streamers were I have no idea, I just know they were not survivors.
8:00pm- we got back into the van and Lt. decided to return to our original function of Mobile Patrol. We made it over to an area where they were sorting body parts. This was my first experience with random body parts. We walked over to the refridgerated trailer and saw a young doctor wearing a white lab coat, green scrubs, dark hair tied into a pony tail and a 3m painters mask on. Standing in the trailer with a clipboard, cops would carry body parts over to her. She would then kneel down, remove the sheet, write something onto the clipboard. Next, she would place a tag on each body part and put them into the appropriate pile. I imagine what her nightmares must be like today. I wonder if she still has the white lab coat and green scrubs.
Ever see a shoulder with nothing else? Just an elbow? Ever see a foot with black high heel shoe still on? I have. I will spare you from anymore. If you can imagine it, I am sure I saw it by this trailer.
04:00 End of tour. Sometime during the night they decided we would work 12 hour tours, face to face reliefs. Our platoon would be working 4pm-4am.
rooftop photo courtesy of Christine Seppa.