With the subject of Stories of the past, and afore i head to work, Ill post this little tidbit (Even though Im telling on myself...Ok, lots of old timers remember this! Enjoy! ;) :D Ive had a couple of people ask me in passing about this one, so here we go! If you want become a legend for the wrong reason, you do something like, Oh, I dunno, run into the back end of the Commonweath Attorney. Smack dab in the middle of Chester. While on the way to a fire call. Oh yeah...Been There, Done That, Didnt Want The T-shirt. Ill set the stage for you. Hot, muggy early evening in mid-July of 1976. Route 10 through Chesters still just a two lane road (And will remain so for a decade and a half). And...pay particular attention to this one...The Highway Department (They hadnt become V-DOT yet) had just switched the light at Chester Rd and Route 10 to alternating green...ie, the West bound lane would get the green first, then the East bound lane. When I say Just switched them Im talking within a couple of hours. They did this, BTW, without letting anyone know they were going to do it. As Co 1s official Photographer I couldnt ride the rigs to calls, simply because there wasnt room for me (This probably wouldnt be a problem today with engines having fully enclosed eight or 10 man cabs, as long as It was approved...but I digress!) This meant I had to drive to everything. And at the time my ride of choice was a bright red 74 Datsun pick-up (For you Young-uns, Datsun is what Nissan used to be called). It had a four cylinder engine that was actually pretty peppy for what it was, and it wasnt a bad little truck except for the beer-can quality sheet metal and the brakes. Ahhh, The Brakes!! Anemic drum brakes on all four corners. I wont say they were less-than-stellar, but if one of those Datsun Lil Hustler pickups had engaged in a side-by-side Stop-From-60-MPH contest with a hundred car freight train, the freight just might have gotten stopped quicker. These lovely stoppin appliances will play a part in this story. One of the thunder-boomers thats a Central Va Summer Trademark was rolling through, and the South End was hopping...and right in the middle of it we got a call for a vehicle accident on Centralia Rd. Huh??You say. Wait a minute Rob, thats in the opposite direction from Chester and 10...Read on, guys. Its about to get interestin ! It was raining so hard that the Shoosmiths sign at Lewis and 10 was just a vague ghost image when I passed it, and we got to the call to find an eerie pre-show of what was to come...one of Co 1s volunteers had gotten rear ended. By, I believe, an MG. The vollie in question was Moose Knowell, who owned a green Lincoln town car of late 60s or early 70s vintage at the time, and the MG had hit him hard enough to push his trunk in a good two feet...to this day I dont know why the guy drivig the MG wasnt killed, or at least hurt worse that he was. Miraculously there were (As I recall) no serious injuries. I got a few pics, and headed back for Chester. The rain had slacked up by now, so you could actually see...and about the time I was passing what was then Carver Jr High, the two alert tones signifying a structure fire about to be dispatched bleated out over the radio, and I hear Local Alram for Companies 1, 6, Unit 127, respond to Greenleigh Trailer Park, for a trailer fire (Of course the exact address was dispatched.) My right foot headed for the floor, and the whip antenna (for my scanner) that was mounted just ahead of the windshield on the right side started bending back in the slip stream...and about then Chesterfield advised All units responding to Greenleigh, PeeDee on location, advising heavy smoke showing. I MAY have slightly exceeded the posted speed limit at that point. I remember the antenna being REALLY bent back in the breeze as I entered Chester and slowed somewhat. As I passed the station, Unit 12s big Ford/John Bean was sitting in the bay, red lights winking, getting ready to roll (Remember, back then the fire station didnt have direct access to Route 10...the rigs had to go out Old Hundred Rd to Harrowgate, then to 10 to go east,or out past Nelsons Texaco to go west) I had the light at Harrowgate, and as I went through that intersection, traffic was coming towards me, down the hill from the bridge, which should have meant that the light at Chester Road had just turned green, too. In my mind, I had that light, too. Except that I didnt. Remember the light being changed to alternating green? Eastbound traffic on 10 still had the red. I heard 12 mark enroute (I THINK it was Ven Barnes driving and Rudy Willis riding shotgun), steamed past Okey Mitchells Gulf station, and realized that SOMETHING wasnt right all in the same instant. And the Something Not Quite Right was the biggest Ford LTD station wagon that had ever been built sitting stationary in front of me. And I was approaching it at what seemed to be only slightly less than light velocity. Even as the thought Whys he STOPPED?!?! flashed in my mind in bright red neon-lit letters I foot-stabbed the brake pedal...HARD...and stood on it...and those drum brakes locked up tighter than Dicks hat band, sort of grinned evilly at me, and said Aint happenin bub! All that oil and grease that lies dormant on the surface of the road had floated to the top of the sheen of water that the just-departed downpour had left behind, making the road ice-storm slick in certain situations, such as, I dunno, the one I was in right then, and all four locked-up tires slid across the surface of the road as smoothly (If not as gracefully) as Tara Lipinskis ice skates during any free-style routine shes ever performed. And I learned first hand that time really does slow down for the second or two before you hit. Approximately 3 days, 5 hours, and 21 minutes passed between the time I hit the brakes and the time I heard CRUMP!! and watched my hood crinkle back in slow motion. Seriously, I counted the turns as a flake of paint flew up and spun past the windshield.. (Skitch much later told me that the impact was so light for them that he thought a heavy truck was crossing the bridge...he didnt know hed been hit until he looked back. That big LTD wagon hadnt even moved. They buffed out the scratch I put on the bumper). Twelve swung out around traffic and passed us at about that point, sirens screaming, and airhorn braying, and slowed as they came abreast of us, just as I was getting out of the truck (I had to force the door open) , Rudy shook his head, rolled his eyes, (I was obviously in one piece) then yelled something like “Skitch...You guys OK??? (And the thought Skitch????? may have flitted through my head.) They headed for the trailer fire (Rudy calling in my Ultimate Cluster...er...thing) and I walked up to the wagon (In my now-soaked sock-feet, because Id pulled my boots off at Mooses accident and just driven in my socks...I was going to just pull my ¾ boots back on at the trailer fire. That I never made it to.). And of course I see Skitch Rudy getting out of the ride and asking if I was OK (I vaguely remember either his wife, or Lynne asking the same question. I well remember thinking that I was basically toast). Yeah guys, physically I was OK. The night was about to get interestin, as if it wasnt interestin enough already. The cops got there (ALL of em knew me back then ) and I got the first chewing out of the evening from Steve Smith (Smitty to us) as he was writing me my ticket for Following Too Closely. Tickets were written, insurance info exchanged, (I was still on Dads insurance, I wasnt looking forward to that conversation, which would come sooner than I imagined.), and Okie Mitchell and a couple of other people helped me push my poor wounded ride to the corner of his lot (At least I didnt get a tow bill). I trudged defeatedly down Old Hundred Rd to the station. Lynn Church was Co 1s Chief back then...one of the finest men Ive ever known and one of the few I never heard curse OR cuss (Theres a subtle but extant difference between the two). Supposedly he came close, though, when someone told him that Rob just ass-ended Skitch Rudy on the bridge in Chester. (Mike Willis, Jimmy Hollis, and I were all Junior Members at the same time...I think the three of us gave Lynn more gray hairs than his own kids.) Either Lynn or Okie had called my dad. He and Lynn were in the Chiefs office awaiting my arrival, with anticipation, I might add, when I trudged up the steps to Station 1s second floor. AHHH...Dadll have my back!!!! I thought. This happy thought evaporated when Bobby Tankard was the one who barked SIT!!!! at me. He was thinking about his soon-to-rise insurance premium. Lynn was thinking of having to explain to Bob Eanes just why one of his members just mowed down the Commonwealths Attorney. Dad looked over at Lynn, and said Have at him, Lynn...Ive got him all night, and he cant go anywhere. I will let you guys imaginations ponder the very VERY one sided conversation that followed. The general consensus was that I was suspended until Lynn decided just how long I was suspended for. It was not a fun evening, trust me on that. Dad took me home, Mom ran to me (with that My Poor Baby!!!! attitude that moms get in such situations), and Dad said Hes fine Sarah...for now. And I got the third chewing out of the night. Did I mention that the Rudys had a kitchen fire the next morning??. Supposedly some joking comment to the effect of Jeeze, Lynn what have I done to you guys???? was uttered. This did NOT help either Lynns then-current opinion of me OR my prospects for running fire calls before nuclear powered fire apparatus was developed in the slightest. I ended up spending a week at both of my grandmothers houses...in Boykins and on the Eastern Shore...to get out of Dodge...er, Chester...for a while. Nothing like Grand-ma spoilin and cookin to help heal the wounded ego. It took Bobby Foster, Doug Alexander, Rudy Willis, and a couple of other people to talk Lynn into not (A) Summarily stringing me up from the Chester water tower (B) kicking me out altogether. Wild thing is, technically I wasnt suspended...I could still go up to the station...I just couldnt run calls. I had to wait until I went to court to find out if I ever would again. When I went to court (And I cant remember which judge was sitting) I ended up being the last case called. The story had been spread far and wide in the hallowed halls of then MUCH smaller Chesterfield County Courts Complex. I was last so I could be asked, before being sentenced to driving school, if I was planning to refrain from running down Officers Of The Court in the furure. Again I cant remember which judge ot was, but I applaud his ability to keep a straight face and ask me that question in a dignified, solemn tone. (Try to tell me that wasnt planned in advance, lol). I STILL wasnt allowed to run fore calls after that...This same bunch that talked Lynn out of going all Game of Throne on me finally talked him into letting me run calls again (And for a while it was ONLY structure fires, a policy that ended when they DIDNT have pics of one of the countys first technical rescues because I was home listening to it on my fire radio. That call was a truck off of the bridge at Swift Creek on Bradley Bridge Road) I STILL get reminded of this one. (Andy Rudy has occasionally brought it up in passing if we should run into each other, lol). And when I was in the squad, and wed run a minor accident where a kid was bemoaning his or her fate at the hands of his parents, Id drag this story out of mothballs and tell it to make em feel better (If I can survive rear-ending the Commonwealths attorney while I was on the way to a fire call...) And yes...it has been used as an example to new volunteers on what NOT to do!!!
Posted on: Sat, 09 Aug 2014 18:12:36 +0000
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