Well beside the obvious. I have lived in Madison County Iowa, most of my life. I went to high school here graduate with a class size of 128.
Was Student Body President, my Senior year. I lettered in Football four years, and no, they just don't hand out letters here. I started wrestling in my freshman year of high school. I wrestled at heavy weight for two years. My senior year I cut weight to 185lbs. I was a State Qualifier and I must admit, I freaked out. I got beat first round which didn't allow me to wrestle back. I blew that.
I was on the all 18 year old drinking team from October to May. The I rounded out the summer, by drinking all the way to the start of college Football season.
I went to football drills for one day, my Father who was a diabetic all of my life, took a shot of insulin ever day I knew him, had to be committed into a mental hospital. That was fall of 1978. I dropped football and came home till classes started.
I only got to see my Father once before I went back to college. Of course I was the big man on campus. I was wanted by ever Fraternery to pledge. I decided at semester brake before the holidays that I wasn't comming back to school.
I get home and inform my family the brilliant decision I had made. Just as well I was pulling down a solid .35 grade average.
My Father and I were not getting along well and I thought I would show him and join the Marines. I had made an appointment to see the recruiter and all the guy had to do was buy my a picture of beer and a pizza and I was going to sign up for latrines digger if it would have gotten me out of here. ASAP.
Well it was a Friday night that I was suppose to meet the recruiter, and he no showed!! What do you think about that rejected by the Marines. LOL I decided to go to the local watering hole. While I was there I was told by a friend of mind that I needed to go and apply for a job for a bakery, driving a route truck.
I went in to the place on a Saturday, and got a job because of working for a friends Father, the guy hiring me said "By God, if you can work for that SOB, you can work for anybody!!"
I worked for them a year and I need a vacation. I was getting up at 3am and working till 6pm every day. it was a split shift thing. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday off, and then Thursday, Friday Saturday. Sunday off. I made good money, but was worn out.
I was looking for another job and a place called Osterman's Imports, Hired me to sell Subaru's, VW, and I don't remember what else. He told me he would start me in two weeks. I walked into the bakery Thursday night and dumped out of my job.
The guy who hired me to sell cars basically lied to me, and I didn't have a job. I couldn't go back to the bakery, They had filled my old route.
So there I was in 1979 late fall no job, and winter comming. My buddie and I were selling fire wood to make an extra buck, and hanging out a the local watering hole. A guy from Texas came in and needed some help building a walk in freezed from a company in Ft Worth. he asked me and my buddie if we would help him, he needed us about a week. We both jumped on it and worked for him a week. When the job was done, he asked us what we were going to do? We told him that we were waiting for spring to brake and then we would look for construction work. He invited us to come down to Texas and work in this factory. it was February of 1980.
Neither of us has a car, but we told himthat we were coming down in a week. We keep selling fire wood and we found this Minester that had an old 1969 Chrysler New Yorker in his back yard. We asked him if he wanted to sell it? he said he would, and we bought it for $200 and a load of fire wood. Jumped started it and drove it home that night.
That was the car we went to Texas in. Went to work for the factory, They made us swear not to tell the other employees we were hired at $5. an hour. We rented a mobile home behind a oil storage tank manufacture, and a bar, We were right at home. Talk about white trash...lol Of course we didn't know any better. The reason the factory hired us was because we were both big guys. My buddy had always wrestled Varsity Heavyweight, and my senior year I cut from 205 down to 185 just to make the varsity wrestling team.
On Friday nights we would go to the local bars out on the area we lived by and they would have arm wrestling contest. One of us would get first sometimes and the other second. Just depended on what we had done at the factory that day. The prise money was usually 50 for first and 25 for second. Of course we would chase anything with a skirt on. between us being Yankees, and winning all the arm wrestling contest chasing all the good old boys girls. We would almost always be in a fight some where. I have never watched people who were so dumb about fighting. My buddie and I would stand back to back and there would be five or six or more sometimes. They would all walk up to us one at a time and boom you would knock down one and then the next guy would step up. same thing would happen. till everybody was down and out and not getting up. Then we would run to our Chrysler and hit the road running...
Good thing no many were packing back then.
My buddie got home sick about Memorial day and went home.
I shacked up with a gal and we moved closer to Ft. Worth. We lived in Lake Worth. She work as a nurses aid, and I was still working at the factory.
Two years went buy and in July I went looking for a car for us. I remember going to a Toyota dealer and finding a 1977 Celica GT used with like 64000, miles on it. I haggled with the sales man, who later became a very good friend of mine. I bought it for $4995. I though I was paying too much, but then he pulled out, Consumer Reports', April's car buying guide. I was hooked. I put a $1000 down on it and low and be hold I got financed on it... I couldn't believe it. It was summer of 1982 and I was still working at the factory. I had gotten a $.50 cent, an hour raise. The payment was $163. a month for 30 months. It was a real beauty, 5Sp, power steering, a/c, cruise, beauty rings on the wheels. Bucket seats, and ran great. It was that dark metelac brown. with two small gold pin stripes, on it. It also had a luggage rack, on the trunk deck.
It was Augest the 16th, I got news that my Father, had died. I was 22 years old then. My girlfriend and I loaded up the car, and headed back to Iowa. it was a 750 mile trip, drive way to drive way. I was really shook up, I really had made up with my Father, and it just so happened, I had talked to him the day before, he was asking me to move back, and I told him that there was no work for me back here. He thought, I could go back to the bakery.
I did get a chance to write a letter to him back before, in the spring, and after, I had been out in the world a little bit, I told him and my Mother, how well that they took care of us kids. I have three older sisters. I told them that I knew it wasn't easy for them to make sure that we always had something to eat, and that we always had money for cloths. and such. I told him that I couldn't believe that, he had always managed to feel like working, when his derbies was acting up. But, he always got up and went to work every day he could. He used to have two D8 Caterpillars, a scraper, and a ripper tooth, for one that was hydrostatic drive, when I was 10 and then he sold that business out. He also had two Semi's (A 1971 Kenworth & and a 1968 IH conventional,) I used to go with him in the summers from sixthe grade, on up to high school. We became very close then.
Anyway, he had to stop driving when he had to go to the Hospital in 1979, and he didn't work any more after that. He died when he was 59 years old. I am so glad that, I wrote that letter to him and my Mother, (all of you need to remember that if your parents are still living) that spring. I wanted to Thank them for giving me a wonderful childhood, and life. I also told them that, I loved them very much. I have never seen that letter since I sent it to them. I know that they apprecated it very much. When, I spoke to him on the phone the day, before he passed, I told him, I loved him, then.
It was so ironic on the way home, they keep playing, on the raido, all of this "Elvis" music. I was driving 80MPH back in 1982, when the speed limit was 55mph. I finally figured out why all the "Elvis" music, that was the same day he died in 1977. I arrived home that night in 10 hours. I averaged 75 miles per hour. I never saw one trooper.
Well, you are either boared to tears, buy now, or you just hate me!
I am going to finish this up later, this weekend.
Please do not delete this, I want you all to know me. I still have a few years to go yet.
Thanks for reading this much. TJ
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by fustercluck
