My Sideways Trip Through Volo Illinois, and other winter tales

It must have been 1988. It was winter and it had snowed big time... as it will in Northern Illinois.  I was heading for home; westbound, in full daylight as I recall.  Driving west on 120 this was before they reconstructed the entire roadway intersection area at 120 and highway 12. Driving up into the residential area of the small burg I was totally unsuspecting of what was about to happen. 

All of a sudden I was moving westward, but facing due north. I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel, because you can't control a sliding vehicle anyway.  I also took both feet away from the pedals... can't stop a slide, and accelerating would be foolish.  This all occurred in a matter of a few seconds, as the car spun around until it was facing due south. "Well shit," I thought as the vehicle began another spin to face north, and a ditch... The car moved toward the ditch, and I had mere seconds to plan what to do next...  As the vehicle slowly slid into the ditch I prepared myself, and when she hesitated in the ditch I touched the accelerator, gently at first, then a bit harder as the vehicle cooperated and there it went, right up, out of the ditch, and onto the side road.  If it was in a movie it could not have happened more perfectly... I just wish someone had been there to film it.

It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilerating! 

Yes I am a daredevil on snowy, slick roads... also a very instinctual driver...

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Fast forward too many years:

Thursday evening 12/08/2022

It's supposed to rain and snow over night. I have been considering routes to work that don't include the cloverleaf interchanges...I am thinking it's best to avoid totally obvious dangerous slanting curves.

I can get on the tollroad near home, via a straight ramp, for 55 cent toll. At the other end I can exit the freeway at Alpine, where the ramp is fairly straight,....but from there to the plant I don't like the options much.

This time I will play it by ear and decide when I get down there... I will need to leave about 10 minutes early - just in case I decide to get off at Alpine (probably 4 miles from the plant) - and also because of all of the drivers who are petrified over a little snow.

You see, where I live the nearest highway entrance is part of the I-90/I-39 tollroad. Then a few miles south I follow I-39 which is also bypass US20, and that's a freeway.

Normally, if I leave the house at the right time, I take surface streets down maybe 5 miles, and the just get on the freeway (and the reverse of that coming home)... The idea is to avoid the tolls as much as possible and only using the tollroad when surface streets are bad. They work hard at keeping the tollroad plowed.

The other reason I avoid the tollroad is that I drive like a crazy person when I can go FAST. If you've ever been my passenger you know that I feel the need for speed. (Come to think about it there are very few people left in this world who have ever been a passenger with me driving. But that's through no fault of mine.)

[Aside: Well crap, I should have written a blog instead – because this was originally part of a dialog in facebook.]

I guess I am getting up at the first alarm in the morning, and leaving for work plenty early...  TGIF?

Aside: I am not aware that I have never experienced black ice. I don't believe it's a real thing. I usually tell myself that I'll believe in black ice when I experience it, probably seconds before I die in the wreck 😉. My last thought will be: wow, black ice really does exist.😏❄️

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Friday morning 6:40am

So this morning’s weather is a steady rain. But it's 34F and any time it's below 37F black ice is a possibility (as I understand it). So I am still going to leave for work a bit early.

Friday morning 7:30am

I have not looked outside, but it sounds like an awful storm... windy, raining hard and steady.

Left the house 10 minutes early. Didn't get on the tollroad, because it's rain, and the road wasn't bad. Surface streets the usual route, until I got on Harrison St, where I would have gotten on the freeway. There were tow trucks and police on the overpass, and a snow plow blocking the entrance ramp. So I got in the left lane and that’s when that snow plow on the ramp came into view.

Something happened with a smallish enclosed trailer. Looks like maybe just a spin out, or jackknifed… from my vantage point below.

 

At first I thought surface streets the rest of the way, but then I realized that if I made a u-turn I could get on the freeway westbound. Then: freeway to work, and 10 minutes early. Not bad. Even the cloverleaf ramp was not bad, no slick spots that I could detect.

Friday evening

Road surfaces are wet, but not bad. But when I got closer to home this evening there was an accident blocking the street.

It was one of those "going too fast on Riverside, and not paying attention" people in a big SUV, who ran into a car, and hit HARD.  There were a lot of cops, no ambulances, and no sirens. I am thinking that no one was injured....the front the SUV was smashed, and the passenger side of the car was smashed. The cops were directing traffic, which was majorly hosed up on Riverside itself, but not too bad on Bell School Road, though no one was going to cross the intersection northbound – the direction I am traveling.

I had to turn left onto Riverside and then right on a side street to continue my journey home. It was good, only a couple of extra minutes - could have been worse.

Thus was our early December winter weather non-event.

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into dust as we all must go

 

my heart 

full for that one

the one 

he is out of reach

my heart

aches

for the one

he is gone

he was compassion

he was ravenously curious

fascinated with other cultures

he is gone

Into Dust

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..and I won't tell

In the autumnal forest,

Down the crooked lane,

Where reds blend through

orange and into yellow.

In the quietest place,

Where horses are free,

And no one can see.

That is where he waits.

With the softest gentle smile,

he moves in the shadows

of  ancient trees, and the horses,

they follow him.

And he waits there for his love.

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The Day I Quit My Job

I did quit, in a crying fit of tears and hopelessness… and then my boss asked me how I was going to get home, and the company wasn’t going to pay my way home from Nebraska. 

 

Let’s start at the beginning…

I was ready to go first thing in the morning, and wouldn’t you know it – the truck (tractor) wouldn’t start. I called the client and he sent someone to give me a ride. While I was waiting I called my boss so that he could get someone out with a loaner tractor, and tow the dead one back to Columbus, Nebraska (the nearest place with a facility of the company the tractor was leased from).

location of the Cargill, at Ord Nebraska - the green star

The only hotel in Ord, Nebraska at the time was the Airport Motel, which was on the other end of town from the job site. (I hear tell that there is a nice hotel right across the road from the Cargill now.)

I was at the job site well beyond the 4 hours scheduled, what with the truck issues, tow truck dropping off the replacement tractor and returning with the broken tractor.  At the job site I did hearing tests, and respirator fit tests, and (if memory serves) a sound level survey was added, since I was waiting for the replacement tractor… that’s how I got some great photos of Ord, Nebraska from atop the Cargill grain elevator/silo.

 

Naturally my story doesn’t end there… I hadn’t quit my job yet.

The loaner tractor was a nightmare. A real p.o.s.  The gears were bad, and it was hard to shift, especially in the lower gears.  I had another job assignment over an hour from Ord, in Albion.  I had to drive a p.o.s. tractor, towing the hearing van, 65 miles across the rolling hills of Nebraska on narrow, old, 2 lane roads.

By the time I got to the Albion Cargill I had 30 minutes to complete several respirator fit tests on a grumpy group who wanted to go home.  The facility closed 30 minutes after I arrived, the manager stayed until I completed the necessary paperwork and packed up the gear.

Now I was tired, and very unhappy with the tractor, and my plans for the evening were for shit. I had hoped to arrive at the next job site in daylight, so I could find a small factory in the middle of the corn fields. No such luck. The tractor refused to cooperate, making it take longer to get another 55 miles in the dark. 

view of the sand hills of Nebraska, Ord, NE

On top of everything I lost a filling and was going to have trouble chewing anything.  I made it to the hotel, and thankfully there was a huge parking lot that I could turn the tractor-trailer around in and leave it facing the direction of the exit for my 4:30 a.m. departure. (Yes 4:30 a.m. such was the nature of the job, and having to process testing on the schedule of the client.)

After checking in to the hotel I walked across the road to a diner, and perused the menu.  There didn’t seem to be anything on the menu that didn’t require chewing,.. damn.  I chatted about it with the waitress and ordered a lemonade.  It didn’t appear that I was going to get dinner at the diner, and they were getting ready to close for the night.  I was near tears as I finished the lemonade; I remember the look of concern from the waitress as I paid for the drink and walked out.  I was full on ugly-crying by the time I got back to the lobby of the hotel.  There were several people in the lobby, and not one of them appeared to notice me. I made it to the top of the stairs and across the landing (open to below) and before I could get through the hallway door I started to sob loudly.  I continued to cry out loud the rest of the way to my room, not caring who heard. (Doors opened and quietly closed in my wake.)

Finally in my hotel room, I opened a suitcase and took out a pudding cup, the only thing I had that didn’t require chewing.  And then I called my boss, Mark. I led with “I QUIT”, my voice quivering as I was still crying. I didn’t let him interrupt until I was done telling him my tale of woe.  Crappy loaner tractor, bad tooth, late arrival, no dinner…. I fucking quit.  And then Mark asked me how I was going to get home from “Podunk” Nebraska since the company wasn’t going to pay my way if I quit my job. And who did I think was going to get there by 4:30 a.m. to take over for me.  I was all “fuck you” about it (knowing that I could get away with saying that to him, because he knew how upset I was, and he was not unsympathetic about it, just realistic.) So, I told him, “FINE. I’ll quit later.”

And it doesn’t really end there…. I took a shower and got about 4 hours of sleep….

Then, at 4:00 in the damn morning I started the p.o.s. tractor and set out to find the job location in the pitch dark of the countryside.  I drove past a road, couldn’t see the sign in the dark, stopped the tractor-trailer on the deserted road, and got out with a flashlight to walk back and read the street sign.  Sure enough that was where I was supposed to turn… onto a very narrow, barely paved, road.

Back in the tractor I started to back the rig down the road. That’s when a vehicle came along and a man got out and asked if everything was all right. He told me that it was the road I needed to be on, and helped me back up far enough to make the turn.  Then he explained to drive “about a half mile, to the end of the road, and make a left turn”, and from there I should be able to see the floodlight shining on the front of the factory building.

So, I did make it to the job site on time, and continued to work.  When I was done there I had to drive about 150 miles to get the trailer to where it’s original tractor was being repaired.

Oh, I could go on… I got the vehicle parked, the tractor disconnected, and waited for a cab…. on to the next adventure. Oh yeah, I worked for that company for another 5 years… so much for quitting my job.

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death of a personal era

 I hope that I can get my "mojo" back.

An era ended with the damned covid... the cafe I loved was closed, like everything else that was considered "non-essential".  When it opened again there were new rules in place,... at first the new rules were state-mandated: a time limit of 2 hours was set in place. And when the state stopped interfering the cafe owner decided to keep the restrictive time limit.

My creativity was often inspired during hours long cafe sessions... I could see out the windows, and eavesdrop on the coversations of strangers.  That truly led me to be creative and write hundreds of blog posts in just a few years of sessions at the cafe; most of which lasted in excess of 5 hours.

I haven't been to the cafe in months.  Something else led me to library for the stronger, more reliable internet connection....

The library just doesn't do it for me. I am isolated in a room with no window to outdoors, and no fascinating conversations to eavesdrop, no interesting people to observe. 

(no little boys to climb up and give me a spontaneous and much needed hug)

I miss that time. I miss that feeling.  Even though it was a very tough period of my life employment-wise - unemployment and low paying jobs....

Here's to new chapters and new experiences.

Age of Wonder

 

link to song The Good Life

He was born in 1901, in Evanston, Illinois.  I was with him the night of July 20, 1969 – that’s when Neil Armstrong became the first person to walk on the moon. And dad was over the moon about it.  As we drove home my daddy uttered the silly suggestion that he could actually see the men on the moon as he drove along.  I told him not to be such a silly person.

link to article about the moon landing

Years later it finally dawned on me just how exciting that was for my dad, who was born before the Wright Brothers flew for the first time. My dad who remembered Halley’s Comet from 1910.  A man who never in his 70 years flew in any type of aircraft.

The advances that man made in those 70 years a nothing less than mind-boggling.  When he was born in 1901 my dad’s life expectancy was about 48 years.  They didn’t have what we would consider healthy lifestyles in those times… daddy was a smoker, and the whole family were drinkers.  They ate fatty foods, and didn’t know what cholesterol was.  Daddy liked bacon, dessert, sugar on his fruit, and a lot of butter on his bread -especially if that bread was fresh-baked.

Nearly everything we take for granted today came up in the Twentieth Century. The prevalence of the automobile: my dad drove a Ford Model T automobile when he was 15 years old – his father’s car. By the time I was thought of dad got a new car every couple of years; Pontiac’s until 1965, then Oldsmobile’s.  

The telephone, without a party line, was a marvel.. My dad did not use the telephone. I remember that one time dad answered the phone, found out what the call was about, and then turned the device over to my mother.  His mind would be blown to think that everyone now days carries a phone in their pocket. –never mind the internet…

My dad listened to programs on the radio every evening, The Edge Of Night, The Shadow, Fibber McGee and Molly,…. And countless others… When the radio programs switched over that new-fangled device: the television, my dad went right out and got himself a television set so he wouldn’t miss an episode.  What a marvel television was,.. and the tv was on all day long in our home.  Dad watched tv in the evenings – a part-time couch potato before the term was coined… dad was often in front of the tv until the end of the broadcast day – sometime in the wee hours of the day.  Many the time I heard the National Anthem played signaling end of broadcast, and then the dull hum of the test pattern.

From the other side- here in the Twenty First Century, it is equally mind boggling to think that they had no television, cars were only for those with means, many homes did not have telephones, there was no television…  and entire generations survived just fine.

We Didn't Start The Fire

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Signs

Many years ago I had a trip planned.  This person I knew wanted visit a relative in Hawaii, and I was asked to be the companion traveler.  Who would not pass up a “free” trip to Hawaii, especially if you’ve never been.

But what happened was that my mother died 3 days before we were to leave on the trip.  Everyone I, spoke to said, “you’re still going to Hawaii, right? Because she’d want you to go.” So I went. I went because she knew about the trip and, in the way we had of teasing each other, it had occurred to me that she “went with the angels” because it was the only way she could go with me.

And the coolest thing happened: we visited an ashram, where people of many faiths had come together to live and meditate… and they had a beautiful garden,… and in that garden it happened.

A monarch butterfly appeared. And I thought to myself “she’s here”, thinking of my mother. That butterfly fluttered it’s way all around the beautiful garden, within the surrounding trees, a large somewhat circular area. It took my breath away, as I turned slowly, following the progress of the butterfly. It made me feel so happy, pleased, euphoric…  monarchs were her favorite butterfly.

[Monarch butterflies are not common in the islands.]

And that’s not all… a few days later, returning from the beach at the hotel, I paused in a clearing and there, amongst the palm trees and native plants was the monarch butterfly again.  It fluttered around me and went on it’s way. 

Thank you, mommy, for sending me signs.

butterflies are free song

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at the library

 there are few spaces of greater peace for me than the library.

Ever since my first visit to my hometown library,... the library is a place of peace and awe to me.

I am still awestruck at all the books, together in one place... and yet only a fraction of what has been published through the centuries since the invention of the printing press.

It's like home. Cozy, temperate, with lots of places to sit and peruse the bound copies.  I have memories of wandering through the stacks. Stopping when I found a topic of interest then, arms laden with books, heading for a reading carrel... oh the interesting things you can find.  I could get lost for hours, no days....  

Books have been the one true, satisfying constant in my life. 

My earliest memories of books in the living room of our house, from the time I could understand anything at all....  I was given access to children's books as a small child, and taught to respect - not to do any form of damage to the books. My mother enrolled me in a book club, so that I got a book in the mail - addressed to me - every few weeks.  She gave me a book about phonics that was geared to young readers, and I could not even read at the time, but I would sit for hours looking at the pages.

Later in life, traveling for work, with time to myself on the weekends... seeking out used bookstores, just to soak in the warm feeling and the scent of old books. Whiling away the time browsing through myriad and miscellaneous titles.

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Lucid dreams, strange dreams...

I took a nap yesterday, and slept good for the first time in weeks.  But I had a disturbing and very realistic dream, with only small details being twilight zone-ish.

I dreamed that I was living in a neighborhood I left over 20 years ago.  In the dream there was a large family or maybe several families living in the property across the street from my home. There was a crowd of young males playing basketball in the driveway.  If you have ever been subject to the noise of a basketball constantly bouncing off of pavement,.. and echoing endlessly off of every house... that's annoying to say the least. 

Suddenly the young fellows noticed that I had been glancing out of the window.  They all flooded across the road - right up to my window, not quite pressing their faces on the glass.  In the dream the window was a rather wide expanse of glass. Then one of the young men somehow opened the window, sliding it aside.  I slammed the window shut again, and struggled with the latch.

When I looked out again there was a policeman standing in the midst of the young men, asking if I needed help.  When I replied that I did require assistance the young fellows fled - off the roof of the garage, where they had climbed to harass me through a window that was suddenly on the upper floor, above the garage.  (this was NOT the house I actually lived in, which was a one-storey home)

I blink and I am standing at the front door of the house.  I see the policeman, and when I invite him to enter the home he morphs into a black woman.  She enters the home and we begin to talk to each other.

I ask if she has ever held or fired a gun, and as she answers, "no", with a smirk she pulls a gun out of her handbag and begins to wipe it with a cloth.  I pull out a gun of my own, as she fires her gun into the floor repeatedly until she is out of ammunition.

At this point I woke up.  

That was little unnerving, but not strictly unusual in the realm of my dreams, which are at best described as The Twilight Zone. I was aware that I was dreaming the entire time, but this time not in control of any of it.  

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why is this

 It is a solitary existence.

The heat is unbearable.

It is hard to move without breaking sweat.

I am miserable being damp all the time.

 

Add exhaustion, and pain to mix.

It is an unpleasant existence.

There is no purpose, no reason.

My guides are gone from this realm.

 

How must one be so alone?

What does it prove?

Who does it teach?

What is real anymore.

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