50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #18

The Rescue

This time I am just repeating a memory that I already wrote about in a post on December 13, 2009.

My husband, George, has his own cleaning business. He is fortunate to have commercial accounts that he cleans when they are closed, so he doesn't have to be there at a specific time, but he does have to have them cleaned by or on a particular day depending on the account.

Now I don't memorize his schedule. I basically know the names of his accounts, but I get confused as to where he is at what time. It's a "not need to know" as I only care as to what time he will be coming home so to know what time dinner will be. It varies every day, but I have an approximate idea. On his latest night, Friday, he gives me a call when he's twenty minutes away so I can have dinner ready. It's usually 7 pm but has been 8 pm if he decides to work on another account to free up some of the Saturday work, or once in a while he runs to Home Depot to pick up something or he may stop at the rental units. There are a number of reasons why he could be running late.

This past Friday, we had spoken earlier in the day, and I truly believed he'd be home before 7 pm, but I wasn't sure. When he wasn't I did try calling his cell but I just got his voice mail. I had prepared one of his favorite meals and had taken a chance and cooked it and was trying to keep it warm. By 8 pm I was wondering where he was but thought he wouldn't mind if I'd eat without him. I did and turned off the food figuring he'd have to reheat it in the microwave at this point. I was a little annoyed that he didn't have the courtesy to call to say he was going to be this late. Maybe he stopped at a fast-food place and wouldn't even need dinner. That happens on a rare occasion.

Well, as the minutes go by, I was starting to get nervous. I did try calling several times more and no answer. He doesn't always keep his phone on or handy. At 9 pm I decide it's time to take action and track him down. One more call, no answer and I knew I had to go look for him. Okay, where should I look? I thought I knew which account he'd be at, but if he had a problem at the earlier account, he could be there. I had to go through his files to find the addresses, and I am not sure if I could have found one place. I've been before but didn't pay attention to exactly where it's located and it is on a back road.

All the horrible thoughts passed through my mind--a heart attack or he'd fallen and broken something and couldn't move and had left his cell phone in the car (which he sometimes does), his car could have broken down and he could be freezing, or as someone worded it, "He pulled a Tiger Woods"--well it was a fleeting thought because I personally know someone who went through that ordeal recently, but just fleeting. I was mostly worried. Of course, your mind goes to the worst and I imagined being a widow and then silly mind, people would come to my house, and it was a mess. Well, I couldn't tidy now, I had to save him--if he needed saving.

It was a freezing night, and I was shaking from the cold and my nerves. As I drove in the night, I tried to see the vehicles going past me in the opposite direction to see if he was heading home. I knew the shape of his car but was trying to remember the license number as those reflected in the dark. None of the numbers looked familiar and none of the shapes. It was about twenty minutes before I got to the first account I was going to try. There was his car!

I looked in the windows and saw his coat but not him. The doors were locked and I knocked and yelled. These are heavy duty windows and doors and a big building, so it was not likely he would hear that. I walked all around ad looked in as many windows as I could in the hard crusty snow. I tried all the doors and banged on them. Then I pulled my car right up to the door and honked and honked hoping he would hear and come. I did all this before calling 911 because I was afraid if he was just cleaning that the police would fine me or reprimand me for calling when there wasn't an emergency. The police station was only a few miles away and I thought about driving to ask them but I called 911.

They were there in less than five minutes without sirens. They proceeded to ask me if he had any medical issues and I told them but I also told them that I thought there had been issues with the elevator in the building. They pounded on the door and yelled. They walked around. The fire department was supposed to send someone too and they found an employee of the company who would come with a key but before the others arrived, the police were able to get through a window.

As soon as the cop went in he yelled George's name and he heard the elevator buzzer. He was stuck in the elevator--for four hours! Soon a fireman came and the employee. There were instructions in an office with a key to some panel that enabled them to free up the elevator stuck between floors.

It was a happy ending. I should have George write a separate blog of his end of the story--cell phones don't work in elevators, there was a spot for emergency call box, but no phone, the emergency buzzer does not go to police station but just in the building which does no good when it's vacant, or he thought maybe if he didn't just push it but tried to spell out Morse Code. He had no fears of a major blackout or end of the world (as my mind would surely have gone) because he had a light in the elevator and he could hear the furnace kick on but he did start getting cold as he had been working in a t-shirt. He was using the elevator to move his cleaning equipment and garbage barrel. He tried to wrap garbage bags around him for warmth. He figured the worst-case scenario would be that he would be there until 9 am the next morning, so he tried to turn his paper towels into a pillow. There is no way to get comfy in an elevator. He actually had a book on him, thank God, and was able to pass some time reading, but he was hungry too.

George and the police tried to make me a hero. Who wouldn't go out looking for their husband/wife in that case? I feel in no way a hero. I told him that if he ever did "pull a Tiger Woods" that I would hunt him down! He said, "sure and where would you look first?" I said I'd call up his boss and find out all the names of his elderly dial-a-ride customers. We laughed.

Two people from the business did call the next day to check as to how he was doing (he said maybe they are worried about a law suit--which crossed his mind), but I do hope that they do something special for him. He is not quitting this account, but he has figured out that he can put the vacuum and trash barrel in the elevator and let them ride by themselves while he takes the stairs--not pleasing to his arthritis, but I'm sure he will never take that elevator again. Surprisingly, it has not soured him to elevators in general, as I'm sure it would for me, but then again, how often are we in buildings with no one else in it?

As Shakespeare said, "All's well that ends well."

"I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire.."

Psalm 40:1-2

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #17

The Blizzard of '78

For those of us that lived through the Blizzard of '78, it's one of those, "where were you?" moments. What made it worst was that the weathermen did not prepare us enough. Seems they didn't see it coming themselves. Too many people were left stranded on the roads trying to get home. Some died of carbon monoxide poisoning stranded in their cars. Some people were stuck at their workplaces, some children were stuck at school for two nights. I've read accounts of people taking shelter in a movie theater off the highway eating popcorn. For you younger folk who don't know what I'm talking about, here is a pretty good article: Remembering the 1978 Blizzard - New England Historical Society

The snow started on February 6 in the morning and fell for 33 straight hours with wind gusts and drifting snow. The snow, they say at times falling 4 inches an hour, accumulated to up to 2 feet, however we lived in Norfolk, CT aka the icebox of CT known to get more snow than most of the state. Some records say we received 30"-36" and that doesn't include the drifting. I had to look up these facts to refresh my memory.

Our story of the Blizzard of '78: George was working in Hartford. I worked in Bloomfield and carpooled with another woman from Norfolk. Remember this was before cell phones. I'm trying to remember and decipher the timing. We must have left work before the usual 4 pm. The normal ride home was an hour. According to my AI, as my memory is eluding me, it probably took 2-3 hours to get to Winsted. 

When we reached Winsted between 6-7 pm in the dark, we decided to go to the Subway grinder shop, which was open, to see if we could call our husbands and to take a break from the intense ride. We had no clue if they were home or stranded somewhere. We went in and moments later, in walks George. If you see the pictures of the roads and the fact that we were coming from different places, you can see just how miraculous this was. What a God wink!

George had his car, so after recouping for a moment, we decided to try and make it home the last ten miles. It was rough, but we made it. Obviously, we couldn't drive up our 450-foot-long uphill driveway, so we trudged up it on foot.  I am sure I was never so happy to be home and with George. We could have been stranded anywhere.

I don't recall losing our power for the two days that we were stranded home. I really don't remember anything more. I just remember how grateful we were that God led us to each other and got us safely home through the worst winter storm that we have ever experienced. 

"In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps." 

Proverbs 16:9

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #16

Being There

Being there sometimes means work. When you have your own business, you often need help.

When we lived up in Norfolk, George had a newspaper delivery route. It was the Winsted Evening Citizen, so delivery was in the afternoon. I don't know if he started the route with a standard shift but he had a three shift on the column and 2nd shift didn't work. He needed my help to sit in the backseat and stuff the newspapers in the boxes. 

The most memorable day of delivering newspapers was August 16, 1982. We had made one stop along the route to grab a candy bar at the store and got home about 6 pm to get dinner. As soon as I got out of the car, nine months pregnant, my water broke. So, off we went to the hospital. I wasn't allowed to eat of course, so I was thankful I had had that Snickers bar. Ben was born the next morning at 4:45 am. The subs George had trained and lined up for when I went to the hospital bailed on us, so George had to do the route alone and I felt pretty alone that 2nd time having a baby because no one else came to visit.

Later George also had a morning newspaper delivery (different car). He would leave in the wee hours of the morning. I stayed with the kids, but on Saturdays I helped him get the Sunday inserts ready. They often gave extra and I enjoyed the benefits of extra coupons--something I was seriously into in those days. 

One of George's first business ventures was a trash collection business. This was before the big trash trucks were making routes in the small towns. He took over another's route and every Saturday would pick up trash and load it into his pick up truck and then unload it off the bed at the landfill. We actually benefitted from "one person's trash...." We got an outdoor patio set, TV and other things other people were done with but we happily adopted. 

On Saturday mornings, I worked at the Post Office. When my shift was over, he would swing by and pick me up and I'd help him finish the route. 

I mentioned all the other business ventures we tried in a previous post. We were co-partners in all of those. 

When he ran for office, I helped campaign door to door. One memory from that was knocking at a screen door and a dog came running from inside and jumped at the door and it crashed down on me. How I kept my balance, I don't know. 

Then there were times with George's cleaning business that I needed to help him complete some jobs. He did get to a point when he hired some employees, but if they call in sick, you have to do it and you can never call in sick. The worst was when everyone else gets a few days off, George didn't get any days off when his mother died. He was a hard worker.

The other occupation we kind of shared, was being landlords. I really felt it was his job, but there were many times we had to work together, especially when tenants abandoned the apartment and left some unbelievable messes. 

So, even though I don't remember it in our vows, we were there for each other in work.

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up."

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #15

Being There

The next few posts will center on being there for one another. 

Our family tries to support one another in good times and bad times. From our kids' sports games, plays, ceremonies, graduations to being in the pet parade or getting them to scouts or Awanas or whatever. We were always there cheering them on, supporting them, maybe making a costume or helping remember lines or Bible verses. We cannot count the times we were "there". Even as they became adults, we can still say we have been and will be "there".

We have been there for grandkids too as our new descendants have increased. It is harder the older we get, but I try to live doing what I can do, while I still can do it. I know it blesses me just as much as it blesses them.

When my Dad was in the senior talent shows, we were there to cheer him on. 

We were there when our parents needed help. When George's mother was nearing the end of her life, we had her live with us for a short while. We gave up our bed for her. George slept on the living room couch, and I slept on the floor in a sleeping bag in Tiffany's room. When my Mom was in the hospital at the end of her life, I went to visit her every single day for a month. We saw my Dad through so many hospital and nursing home stays and did what we could for him. When our parents were living, we were sure to make sure they were not alone on holidays. We tried to always think of them, and I still do every day even though they are not with us on earth. 

We have also tried to be there for others outside of the family. Over the years we hope many others have felt blessed by our actions. 

George and I have been there for each other through the losses of loved ones, troubling times, in sickness and hardships, but we have also been there in the good times--throwing each other special birthday parties and celebrating in special moments. 

I have attended several Veteran programs to honor George's military service. from special CT awards and Vietnam awards, visiting the wall together, and I spoke when he received the local Veteran of the Month award. As you can see from the photos, our family was there for him too. 

George has been there for me when I was sworn in as postmaster 

when we had a special "Heartland" stamp unveiling and other postal milestones, including retirement.

He was supportive and helpful in the publishing of my book. When I had the book launch, family also showed up for support. 

I know there were many more times I could mention. We've lived through a lot in 50 years. In good times and bad, we have been there for each other.

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing."

I Thessalonians 5:11

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #14

The Pets

The problem with this blog anniversary memories in 50 days is that I forgot how long it would take to find the pictures for each one. I may have to go back and add pictures to a lot of them later. 

I debated on writing this one, but our furry family members were a part of our journey. Memories are bittersweet because our little ones have all passed away and several had tragic outcomes. 

Our first furry friend was a foster child...when George's mom moved into senior housing, she couldn't have pets so we took in Charley. She was a small black terrier dog. I don't remember how long she lived with us. I have one funny memory (well for us) of her. When George's mother lived in her house, George always went in and immediately Charley would jump on the couch and let George wrestle with her. It was a habit. Well, we all know habits are hard to break. One time the couch got moved and when George walked in, Charley jumped to where the couch had been and hit the wall. She was ok but boy did we laugh about that. 

I used to take her for rides in the car and twice she gave me quite the scares. Tiffany was a baby both times and the first time I had to pull over into the reservoir parking lot and do something with Tiffany. I got back in the car and drove a couple of miles when I realized Charley was not in the car! I panicked. This was my mother-in-law's baby. I couldn't be responsible for losing her. My mind flashed to someone picking her up or her getting hit by a car. I sped back using my flashers to let people know I was intentionally speeding. When I got to the parking lot, Charley was pacing back and forth not knowing what to do. What a relief!

The other time was in Riverton and I don't remember the exact sequence of events but somehow Charley had jumped up to the window when I was outside of the car and she had pushed down the lock button on the car. Tiffany and Charley were locked in the car! Real panic set in!

Fortunately for me, a kind man came by, went to his nearby home and got a coat hanger and was able to unlock the door--a "hack" that we had heard about and with the window open a crack, it worked. 

Charley died on a Good Friday, my parents beloved Sir Lancelot, who I lived with for many years, died on Easter at different year. It is so hard to lose pets.

We decided to wait until we had a house, and the kids were older to let them have pets. Every stupid year the teachers seemed to have the kids write about pets and we always got bugged to get pets. It was a conspiracy. Ben wanted a dog and Tiffany wanted a cat. So, we adopted Patches, a black and white springer terrier mix and Lacy, an adorable black bundle of fir. 

Patches, born on January 8th, Elvis's birthday, was our "hound dog". He gave us all the unconditional love a dog gives. He lived with us thirteen years. I am going to do brief memories of all because I still miss them and will get sentimental.

Lacy was born to a barn cat and the mother didn't have all her vaccinations. Lacy, therefore, had feline leukemia and only lived about 6 or 9 months from when we got her. That was so devastating that Tiffany was hesitant for us to get another cat. 

This time we decided to get two brothers to keep each other company. They were tiger cats who we named Dickens and Linus. They sure lived up to their names. We kept our cats as indoor kitties to keep them from the dangers of living outside and to hopefully give them long lives. Well, Dickens was a Dickens and always found ways to escape to outside. I couldn't understand one day how I kept putting him in the house and then I realized he was outside again. He had found a screen window which didn't latch properly below. 

Linus ended up being our little lion-hearted kitten. It turns out he was born with a bad heart and he died only a few months later. When we knew he wasn't well, we decided to get another cat to keep Dickens company when he was gone.

So, we got our gray striped Joshua. He was named that by the cat foster lady and we kept it because he meowed a lot like Joshua of Jericho making noise around the city.

Dickens developed intestinal problems and after several hundreds of dollars that were only going to mount up to more that we couldn't afford, well, you know what we had to do--a heart wrenching memory that I didn't really want to bring up, but it was part of our lives. 

So, we were left with Joshua and Patches. Joshua stayed with us 17 years. I loved that little kitty and I would love another one so much but I do not want to go through the pain and heartbreak of losing another pet. Plus, at this point in our lives, they may outlive us and empathetic me thinks about how they would feel for the loss. I think way too far ahead. Plus I always felt guilty whenever I left them home alone. For my mental well-being, I am better off without a pet, but I am grateful for the time with our beloved. pets.

 "A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel." 

Proverbs 12:10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #13

The Drive-In

I grew up with drive-ins being a big part of our family. My parents went to the drive-ins almost every weekend. Even in the winter, drive-ins had these tiny little heaters you could use--they didn't work very well, but the diehard fans stuck it out. We even had a hooded canopy type thing that attached to the windshield to (try to) keep the rain off the windshield--neither rain, nor sleet...

I think the Pleasant Valley Drive-in was the only drive-in that George and I went to. I had gone since I was a kid when it was called Roger's Corner Drive-in. We have always been proud to have one of the few drive-ins left in our town. It makes me so sad that it has not re-opened from a couple of years ago. 

We took our kids here on warm summer nights. The drive-in was near the river and the mosquitos were sometimes a problem. We still laugh about the mosquito in the Pic commercial. If you remember it, you'll smile and remember the high squeaky voice of the mosquito, "See what I mean? Bye!"

They always started the movie there with the National Anthem. As proud Americans we appreciated that however, their recording was old and garbled and we still joke to this day, "And now the nan'l anam". If either of us said those two garbled words, we would know what the other was referring too.

If you've never been to a drive-in movie, I'm sorry. We are grateful for the fond memories we have of something that is now fading into history. I am sure hoping for a revival for future families. I'm glad I found a couple of old photos. 

For those who don't know, there were rows of little hills made for the cars to park on to be a little higher. I remember the old speakers on the poles that you hung from your car window and turned up the volume on the tiny knob. Years later they changed so you could use your car radio as a speaker. One late night for our poor daughter, this drained the battery on her car and we had to go rescue her. 

Some drive-ins had a swing set below the screen to play on before the movie or this was a safe spot for kids to play ball or running games before the movie began. Of course, there was the refreshment stand with candies, ice cream, french fries, hamburgers, hot dogs and of course, soda. You could also buy a Pic coil to burn on your dashboard in hopes of scaring away the mosquitos. I will admit that sometimes we brought our own popcorn to save money. Sometimes we brought folding chairs or blankets to sit on in front of the car. What was not to like about a warm summer night eating fun food under the stars and enjoying a movie with your family?

Other than the car battery running down, the only issues were a few pesky mosquitos or maybe a tall vehicle parking in front of you (which rarely happened--they were sent to the back rows), drive-in movies leave us with great memories of good times. 

 "So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad." 

Ecclesiastes 8:15

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #12

Church

Both George and I were sent to Sunday School when we were young. There was never a point of not believing in God for us. Although we had stopped attended church as teenagers, when we were getting married, we had to decide on which church to have the ceremony. We chose the Norfolk Congregational Church and continued attending after we were married. We went for a number of years and became sextons there. 

Our religious journey took us to several churches in our 49 years. We discovered we were Baptists at heart. That's where our beliefs fit the most. We were, therefore, baptized as adults in believer's baptism and our kids made that decision when they were teenagers. 

In our years of attending churches, we have served as Sunday School superintendent, secretary, Awana leaders, Sunday School teachers, written skits, acted in skits, coordinated a meal ministry, organized a church library, were nursery workers and coordinators for the welcome team. George went for a week in NY to help with the building of a church. He also helped building a local church. Together George and I wrote, typed and printed a several page monthly newsletter. I am sure I am leaving out other volunteer activities we did at the churches. 

We did after a while decide we needed a break from serving and we just wanted to sit back. There was a year when we decided to change churches, and I joked to George and said, "Let's just go to a different church every week". Ugh. He took me up on it! So, for a year we went to 50 different churches of different denominations. It was eye opening. We narrowed it down to three churches and revisited them. We decided on one and after a few months went back to a different of the three and we have been there for 12 years--the longest we have ever been to a church. Eight years was our usual max. We don't passively attend, but religiously, pun intended. Praise Christian Fellowship is not just a place of worship; it is our church family. I will admit, it is not a Baptist church, but we maintain our Baptist beliefs and can co-exist with the differences. We agree on the most important issues. This church was a source of comfort when my mother passed away and then my father began attending and he also faithfully attended for the rest of his life.  

I still serve at this church on our ACTS team (Actively Caring Through Service). We come up with projects for the congregation to do that will benefit the community and others. 

Of all our years of church going, I have to say the sermon that stayed with me the most was one we heard on vacation in Pennsylvania at a Mennonite Church. The sermon was so profound to me that I  wrote a blog post about it Christmas Eve 2018. (Debbie's Post: My Thoughts for this Christmas time and New Year). In a nutshell it was about all the lesser mentioned people in the Bible and how they made a difference by doing what they could do--no matter how small. We are all important. I may have to resend that post as my Christmas letter again this year. I think it bears repeating.

The church helps us navigate through this worldly life and gives us hope of eternal life. We know our future is secure. 

"And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another--and all the more as you see the Day approaching."

Hebrews 10:24-25