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Showing posts with label Western Auto Iva. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Western Auto Iva. Show all posts

Thursday, October 27, 2016

Throwback Thursday Not-So-Wordless Wednesday You Okay, Bossman?



Back about 1975 or so my sister, Sandra, wanted to go to a Donny Osmond concert. My cousin Barbara was able to get tickets to see Donny Osmond live in Atlanta. 


The appointed day arrived and we were getting ready to leave for Atlanta. The plan was that my mother, my sister, my brother and I would go to Atlanta. 



My cousin and my sister would go to the concert and my aunt and the rest of us would go shopping.

About two hours before time to leave, my father came back to the store from installing an antenna. The ladder he was using was part of the way broken, but he used it anyway. 

When he got back to the store, he was limping. He told my mother that his knee went out
and he had fallen from the second step of the ladder. T

his was not unusual because he had a bad knee from years before when he dropped a cash register on it, plus years of football. 

He went to college on a football scholarship and played in the Air Force.



He said he would be alright. He would just prop up in a recliner there at the store and he would be better soon. He knew that if my mother thought any more was wrong, we would not go to Atlanta and Sandra would miss the concert she had been looking forward to.


Well, after several hours, we left. Just before we left, he had me read the registers and count the money. This was unusual, but I did not think anything about it.


As soon as we were out of sight, he had the employees call the Iva Rescue Squad. Rescue Squad Six was there in a very few minutes. They loaded him in the ambulance and took him to the hospital.




What really happened was that he fell off the roof of the house into a rose bush. The employee with him, Ira “Pee Wee” Cowan, leaned over the edge of the roof and said, “You okay, boss man?” 

Papa was not okay. To make matters worse, Papa had brought the ladder down with him.
Ira had to climb down off the roof with no ladder and put Papa in the truck.


Papa sat at the store for several hours in extreme pain because he did not want to disappoint my sister.

At the hospital, they removed over one hundred rose thorns from all parts of his body and determined that he had a major break that was not horizontal across the bone like usually happens. 



It was actually broken vertically. The orthopedist explained that this was a more painful break than they normally saw. 



He told Papa he would need to stay in the hospital for several days. Papa told him, no, he wanted to go home. The doctor only agreed to release Papa if he had someone who could stay with him.

The store had an E.M.T. on staff. We also had a resident goof-ball who was about as goofy as the day is long. Goofball stayed with Papa until we could get home.

The Iva Rescue Squad, always known for going above and beyond the call of duty, took Papa back to the store. They rolled the stretcher to where he could read the registers and collect the money. They took him to the bank to make the drop. Then, they took him back to the house and got him situated in the room.

Our staff E.M.T stayed with Papa for a while and helped him get situated. He gave
Goofball some instructions on what to do to help Papa, which Goofball ignored.

That night, my mother called the house to speak with Papa and it is then she found out what happened. The E.M.T. answered the phone.  He told my mother what had happened and that everything was taken care of.

We got back home and found Goofball sitting on the bed beside Papa. Goofball was eating a sandwich and watching television. Papa was looped, but still in extreme pain.  

My father endured a great deal of pain because he loved my sister and did not want her to be disappointed.

Can you think of a time when someone you know made a personal sacrifice for someone they loved?


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Friday, September 9, 2016

McClendon Studios Presents: Snuffy's Army

Snuffy’s Army


Disclaimer: Many of the stories are completely fictional.  Other stories are fictional accounts of true stories.  Other stories are completely true.  Sometimes the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

First a very special shout out to Mr. SpazBubbles.  He is a fellow YouTuber and is a subscriber to this channel.  Stop over at his place and tell him we said hello.

I had been away at college for nearly four years.  While in college, I was sometimes home on the weekends, but most of my weekends were taken up visiting with friends.  I did work at the store on Saturdays, but some people had not seen me in years.

Suzanne and I had just gotten married.  We had a break-in at the store soon after Suzanne and I got married and we were trying to find a way to stop them.  We had a new, ultra high-tech alarm installed at the store.  I had a C. B. radio in the Galaxy and I also had a C. B. walkie-talkie that I left at the house with Suzanne.

The Western Auto was just outside of the city limits of Iva.  This meant that the Iva Police Department had no jurisdiction to respond.  We had to rely on the Anderson County Sheriff’s Department, which was not much more than useless. 

There was an old joke that was more truth than joke that a Sheriff’s Department investigation ended when the deputy taking the report said, “Call us if you hear anything.” 

In their defense, the sheriff’s deputies were spread very thin.  We had a county that was approximately 1,000 square miles with only a small handful of deputies to cover it all.  We knew that if anyone was going to catch anyone breaking into the store, we would have to be the ones to do it.

My father and I had decided that when the alarm company called us, I would go around the back of the store (a road ran behind the store) and he would go around front of the store.  This way maybe we would catch them in between.  Or, so we hoped.

One night the alarm went off and I went to the back of the store and started looking with the flashlight to see if I saw any obvious points of entry.  I did not, so I started to go around front.  To do this, I had to cross an old railroad right-of-way, which still had some ballast and ties.  There were steep hills on either side of this right-of-way.

There is a bar across the street from the Western Auto called Snuffy’s Tavern.  Now, this is about as rough a bar as you can imagine. If you read my story about the pool cue, you will get a little glimpse at what I am talking about.

One of the bar patrons yelled to my father “You ain’t going in there by yourself, are you, Bruce?”  It appears that the good old boy patrol was going to provide back up for my father.  Weapons of all kinds, from nunchucks to AK-47s, were quickly produced.  The Secret Service assault wagon had nothing on these guys.  In fact, if there was a standoff between a highly armed and trained SWAT team and these guys, the SWAT team better just go home.

About that time, I rounded the corner of the store and I heard the unmistakable sound of shotgun slides being racked.  The sound was deafening.  I heard what seemed like a hundred or so pump shotguns each racking a shell.

Then, it happened.  Rusty was a Vietnam veteran and had been attached to the 82nd Airborne and, I think, was also a Green Beret.  Rusty had about a million and five jumps to his credit.

I don’t know where he came from or how he managed to do it but, I was Rusty’s one million and sixth jump.

As I laid there with Rusty’s knee in my back and a face full of gravel, I yelled, “I am David. I am Junior.  I am Bird. I am supposed to be here.”

My father yelled to the crowd, “That is David!”  We had a posse go in the store and walk with my father around the back of the store.

While Doc, a former army medic, tended to my wounds, the posse searched the building from top to bottom and found nothing. They were all hoping to find someone they could beat up.  Each one said, “He better hope I ain’t the one to find him”.

When Doc was done with me, I resembled someone who was an extra for Michael Jackson's Thriller video.

The alarm company automatically called the sheriff’s office so, once they were called, someone had to be there to fill out a report.  I called Suzanne, and Papa and I waited for over an hour before the deputy arrived to take the report.

By the time the deputy arrived, all the guns were out of sight but very close by.

The deputy looked at me and noticed my wounds.  Doc had bandaged me up pretty good, but I still had some blood on me.  He asked if I had anything further to add to the report.  I said, “No.”

The deputy asked how I got the injuries I had. Rusty looked at me with anticipation.  He was wondering if I was going to rat him out or not.  I told the deputy I fell into the railroad right-of-way.  This seemed logical and he accepted it.

As the deputy left, he said, “Call us if you hear anything.”

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