EllGab - Spite Board
Rikki Gins Lounge => Random Topics => Topic started by: GravitySucks on October 08, 2018, 12:34:21 AM
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When I was 10 and in my prime as 3rd baseman on the Northlake Pirates Little League team, my uncle took me to watch a Cubs vs SF Giants baseball game. Willy McCovey was playing first base for the Giants and Ernie Banks was playing first for the Cubs. Our seats were in the front row of the field boxes right at first base. Towards the end of the game a foul ball was hit sky high and was destined to be caught by me with my freshly oiled glove at the ready. My uncle pushed me out of the way to catch the ball barehanded. The ball slipped through his hands and broke his nose. Served him right. He got blood on my Ron Santo #10 cotton Cubs home jersey that I had bought myself with my paper route money.
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Just now. Rubbing the chin of two week old kitten who probably won't live more than an hour or two. Bringing a tiny bit of comfort to another of God's creatures.
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Just now. Rubbing the chin of two week old kitten who probably won't live more than an hour or two. Bringing a tiny bit of comfort to another of God's creatures.
I'm praying for the kitten, and for you, Exile.
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When I was 10 and in my prime as 3rd baseman on the Northlake Pirates Little League team, my uncle took me to watch a Cubs vs SF Giants baseball game. Willy McCovey was playing first base for the Giants and Ernie Banks was playing first for the Cubs. Our seats were in the front row of the field boxes right at first base. Towards the end of the game a foul ball was hit sky high and was destined to be caught by me with my freshly oiled glove at the ready. My uncle pushed me out of the way to catch the ball barehanded. The ball slipped through his hands and broke his nose. Served him right. He got blood on my Ron Santo #10 cotton Cubs home jersey that I had bought myself with my paper route money.
Damn that’s a good one!
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Remind me to tell you the story of that time when I had to put a knife to the neck of a 70 year old woman in order to rescue an androgynous rock star from some very homophobic mob guys in a restaurant in Debrecen.
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I'm praying for the kitten, and for you, Exile.
The only cold comfort is that none of them are suffering anymore.
Thank you for your kind words and thoughts. The Momma Kitteh will be going to the vet ASAP to get spayed. She is sneaky and can get outside without anyone noticing.
I do not want to take another chance.
How quickly life can come and go.
:'(
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Remind me to tell you the story of that time when I had to put a knife to the neck of a 70 year old woman in order to rescue an androgynous rock star from some very homophobic mob guys in a restaurant in Debrecen.
What were you doing in Hungary? Sampling the local goulash?
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Remind me to tell you the story of that time when I had to put a knife to the neck of a 70 year old woman in order to rescue an androgynous rock star from some very homophobic mob guys in a restaurant in Debrecen.
Fuck, that was you ???
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This movie was made in 1974. I started bobsledding in December, 1975 after the team was already selected for 1976 Winter Olympics in Innsbruck. I know and competed against every single one of the people in this film. We had a great rivalry against the Navy. In 5 years my team never lost a 4man race to them. By October, 1976 I had beaten all of the Navy SEALS in individual push start competition. Between 1976 and 1980 the Air Force number 1 sled had the fastest push times in the US or Canada. The action footage in this film shows what the bobrun was like when I started. In 1979 they kept the same basic track layout but had deplaced all of the stone curves and wooden straightaways with concrete and refrigeration. Before 1980 the track record for the 4 man was 1:04:00. I was select as one of ten 2 man drivers to test the track in December, 1979. My first run down, with just a jog at the start broke the 4 man record at 1:03:97. Scary fast. The bottom half of the track has been redesigned to make it safer. If you go there today you can get a ride on a 4-man sled.
Enjoy.
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All those wooden posts look safe!
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I was a very young, somewhat naive, 13 year old when I started high school. One day my mother was driving me somewhere in her 1964 pale blue Thinderbird with the awesome bucket seats and cockpit like interior. There were 5 of us kids and I never had time alone with my mother. I decided that maybe she could help me understand a joke I had heard in school.
“Mom, the kids in school are telling this joke and everyone laughs but I don’t get it.”
“What is it?
“What is grey and comes in quarts? And then they say elephants and everyone busts up laughing. “
She almost totalled the car she started laughing so hard. She eventually explained the difference between the word come and the word cum but she never quite looked at me the same again.
I decided I didn’t have to ask her why Dr. Pepper comes in a bottle. I figured that one out on my own.
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All those wooden posts look safe!
My 12th time down on the luge I went from the mile start(normal Luge start was at the 1200 meters) I hit the wall coming out of zig-zag. When I got to the bottom I pulled a 6 inch sliver (15.24cm) out of my arm. That was my last luge ride.
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When I was 10 and in my prime as 3rd baseman on the Northlake Pirates Little League team, my uncle took me to watch a Cubs vs SF Giants baseball game. Willy McCovey was playing first base for the Giants and Ernie Banks was playing first for the Cubs. Our seats were in the front row of the field boxes right at first base. Towards the end of the game a foul ball was hit sky high and was destined to be caught by me with my freshly oiled glove at the ready. My uncle pushed me out of the way to catch the ball barehanded. The ball slipped through his hands and broke his nose. Served him right. He got blood on my Ron Santo #10 cotton Cubs home jersey that I had bought myself with my paper route money.
That's a nice story GS. These lil gems are the real fabric of life.
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When I was a kid (5-12) my father and uncle were involved in stock car racing. Their home track was O’Hare stadium. I found this corny movie about the history of the track. I knew Gene Marmor and spent some time learning how race cars were built by handing tools and picking up parts.
They raced at O’Hare, Meadowbrook, Rockford, Illiana, Soldiers Field and Milwaukee.
Fred Lorenzen was my hero. Fast Freddie won the Daytona 500 in 1965. I was a 9 year old kid watching from the infield. Cheering our hometown hero. In my white dungarees and a wife beater dago tee. They didn’t call them wife beaters back then but all the Italians in the ‘hood were proud to call them dago tees.
This film mentions a USAC driver named Whitey Gerken. He was Gene Marmor’s teammate. He was like my uncle. We built his first race cars in our garage in the backyard. This is back in the day when they truly started with a “stock” car. Since I was small I did all the under the dash work. Removing all the stock wiring and instruments and hooking up racing gauges and wiring. They would hand me an asbestos blanket, a tube of gasket adhesive and a pair of blunt scissors (just kidding Frank). They were actually my grandmother’s pinking shears. I would have to cut the blanket and glue it to the firewall. I am suprised I didn’t end up with lung disease from that. Whitey Gerken was killed in a racing accident in 1973 as was another driver at Illiana.
In the winter we heated the garage with an oil burner stolen from an orange grove near my grandparents farm in Temple Terrace, Florida. These oil burners would be lit in the winter to protect the oranges from frost.
The picture down below was an old studebacker driven by a guy nicknamed shorty. As a 10 or 11 year old kid I fit the seat perfectly. As a joke my father had me jump in the car in the pits after a race and steal poor Shorty’s race car. I drove it out on the 1/4 paved banked oval and made my very own victory lap.
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My father owned a small construction company in Chicago when I was very young. One of my earliest memories is of me sitting in his lap in a green and white pickup truck and steering the truck as we drove down a side street. There was a cloverleaf emblem on the door. I was probably 3 or 4.
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I started this thread to capture random memories as I rearrange my neural network. It feels like I am in the process of a defrag. But please feel free to use this thread to document any memories you would like to share, or start your own thread.
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This movie was made in 1974. I started bobsledding in December, 1975 after the team was already selected for 1976 Winter Olympics in Innsbruck. I know and competed against every single one of the people in this film. We had a great rivalry against the Navy. In 5 years my team never lost a 4man race to them. By October, 1976 I had beaten all of the Navy SEALS in individual push start competition. Between 1976 and 1980 the Air Force number 1 sled had the fastest push times in the US or Canada. The action footage in this film shows what the bobrun was like when I started. In 1979 they kept the same basic track layout but had deplaced all of the stone curves and wooden straightaways with concrete and refrigeration. Before 1980 the track record for the 4 man was 1:04:00. I was select as one of ten 2 man drivers to test the track in December, 1979. My first run down, with just a jog at the start broke the 4 man record at 1:03:97. Scary fast. The bottom half of the track has been redesigned to make it safer. If you go there today you can get a ride on a 4-man sled.
Enjoy.
That’s amazing! Looks fun.
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I started this thread to capture random memories as I rearrange my neural network. It feels like I am in the process of a defrag. But please feel free to use this thread to document any memories you would like to share, or start your own thread.
Keep posting as much as you can. I enjoy reading your life’s adventures.
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When everyday was an adventure.
https://youtu.be/zUEp_CFPne0 (https://youtu.be/zUEp_CFPne0)
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My father owned a small construction company in Chicago when I was very young. One of my earliest memories is of me sitting in his lap in a green and white pickup truck and steering the truck as we drove down a side street. There was a cloverleaf emblem on the door. I was probably 3 or 4.
Meh. I've heard of a dude that was helping Doc Salk knock out that pesky Polio deal when he was that age.
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Meh. I've heard of a dude that was helping Doc Salk knock out that pesky Polio deal when he was that age.
Yeah. I had to get driven to and from the job sites but I was building concrete forms at 3 and managing a whole crew at 4.
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How about your adventures at JSTPS (the ones you can talk about of course.)
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I’m not done reading. Get your ass back here and tell us some more stories!
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When I was in the air force at Plattsburgh AFB, a van club, the Adirondack ShowVanIsts met at the mister donut. I ordered a 1977 dodge van and joined them. All the van had was the two stock seats up front. I scrounged screws and rivets from the flight line, and designed a custom interior centered around the sound system and the double bed in the rear. The waitress at mister donut was cute. I married her. We went everywhere in that van. All through New England, down the east coast to Florida for a honeymoon, moved to Omaha where we joined the Omaha trucking co. Went to rock mountain national park, vail, denver, all over Nebraska and Iowa. A trip back to NY for the 80 Olympics. Drove it to Biloxi, MS for an air force tech school and held parties on panama beach and Ft Walton beach every weekend during that summer. Drove it down to KC for a Oilers football game and finally used it to move to Houston when I separated. I did all the body work, paint and lettering. Designed a custom oak dash and wooden overhead console for the cb radio and some map lights. Very comfortable traveling van with one short fall. No air conditioning. Had to sell it about a year after I got to Houston. You can’t live without ac in Houston. My CB handle was “Slider”. Everyone called me Slider. No one from the van club showed up yo my wedding. The next week I asked why. When they got the invitation it had my real name and they didn’t know who that was.
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When I was in the air force at Plattsburgh AFB, a van club, the Adirondack ShowVanIsts met at the mister donut. I ordered a 1977 dodge van and joined them. All the van had was the two stock seats up front. I scrounged screws and rivets from the flight line, and designed a custom interior centered around the sound system and the double bed in the rear. The waitress at mister donut was cute. I married her. We went everywhere in that van. All through New England, down the east coast to Florida for a honeymoon, moved to Omaha where we joined the Omaha trucking co. Went to rock mountain national park, vail, denver, all over Nebraska and Iowa. A trip back to NY for the 80 Olympics. Drove it to Biloxi, MS for an air force tech school and held parties on panama beach and Ft Walton beach every weekend during that summer. Drove it down to KC for a Oilers football game and finally used it to move to Houston when I separated. I did all the body work, paint and lettering. Designed a custom oak dash and wooden overhead console for the cb radio and some map lights. Very comfortable traveling van with one short fall. No air conditioning. Had to sell it about a year after I got to Houston. You can’t live without ac in Houston. My CB handle was “Slider”. Everyone called me Slider. No one from the van club showed up yo my wedding. The next week I asked why. When they got the invitation it had my real name and they didn’t know who that was.
Great story, GS!
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When I was in the air force at Plattsburgh AFB, a van club, the Adirondack ShowVanIsts met at the mister donut. I ordered a 1977 dodge van and joined them. All the van had was the two stock seats up front. I scrounged screws and rivets from the flight line, and designed a custom interior centered around the sound system and the double bed in the rear. The waitress at mister donut was cute. I married her. We went everywhere in that van. All through New England, down the east coast to Florida for a honeymoon, moved to Omaha where we joined the Omaha trucking co. Went to rock mountain national park, vail, denver, all over Nebraska and Iowa. A trip back to NY for the 80 Olympics. Drove it to Biloxi, MS for an air force tech school and held parties on panama beach and Ft Walton beach every weekend during that summer. Drove it down to KC for a Oilers football game and finally used it to move to Houston when I separated. I did all the body work, paint and lettering. Designed a custom oak dash and wooden overhead console for the cb radio and some map lights. Very comfortable traveling van with one short fall. No air conditioning. Had to sell it about a year after I got to Houston. You can’t live without ac in Houston. My CB handle was “Slider”. Everyone called me Slider. No one from the van club showed up yo my wedding. The next week I asked why. When they got the invitation it had my real name and they didn’t know who that was.
@GravitySucks
So if I am reading this right, you drilled the chick that worked down at the Mister Donut?
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
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@GravitySucks
So if I am reading this right, you drilled the chick that worked down at the Mister Donut?
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
Not as often or as long as I would have liked, but yeah.
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Not as often or as long as I would have liked, but yeah.
Yeah, it's rough when all the corporates give you is an hour long break. It took me 25 minutes to get there and 25 to drive back. :-\
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When I was in the air force at Plattsburgh AFB, a van club, the Adirondack ShowVanIsts met at the mister donut. I ordered a 1977 dodge van and joined them. All the van had was the two stock seats up front. I scrounged screws and rivets from the flight line, and designed a custom interior centered around the sound system and the double bed in the rear. The waitress at mister donut was cute. I married her. We went everywhere in that van. All through New England, down the east coast to Florida for a honeymoon, moved to Omaha where we joined the Omaha trucking co. Went to rock mountain national park, vail, denver, all over Nebraska and Iowa. A trip back to NY for the 80 Olympics. Drove it to Biloxi, MS for an air force tech school and held parties on panama beach and Ft Walton beach every weekend during that summer. Drove it down to KC for a Oilers football game and finally used it to move to Houston when I separated. I did all the body work, paint and lettering. Designed a custom oak dash and wooden overhead console for the cb radio and some map lights. Very comfortable traveling van with one short fall. No air conditioning. Had to sell it about a year after I got to Houston. You can’t live without ac in Houston. My CB handle was “Slider”. Everyone called me Slider. No one from the van club showed up yo my wedding. The next week I asked why. When they got the invitation it had my real name and they didn’t know who that was.
Nice van!! Ok without in Mississippi and FLA but finally in Houston you needed A/C? I would've thought A/C was needed in those areas also though I knew a lady who grew up outside Philadelphia (no PA but place of infamous race murders) who grew up with no A/C and never used the A/C here in TX even in the summer. Crazy.
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Nice van!! Ok without in Mississippi and FLA but finally in Houston you needed A/C? I would've thought A/C was needed in those areas also though I knew a lady who grew up outside Philadelphia (no PA but place of infamous race murders) who grew up with no A/C and never used the A/C here in TX even in the summer. Crazy.
Pffft.. Screw the van dude. Let's hear more tales of debauchery down at the Mr. Donut!
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
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Fuck, that was you ???
I wonder what the woman had to do.with it.
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@GravitySucks
So if I am reading this right, you drilled the chick that worked down at the Mister Donut?
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
A whole new meaning to Insiders...
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This one’s for @FISH
I don’t remember if this happened in 1975 or 1976.
I took up backpacking when stationed at Plattsburgh AFB. I would rent equipment from the base rec center for the weekend and usually drove to Vermont to hike segments of the Long Trail. This trail goes from the southern border of Vermont to the Canadian border and cross crosses the state to go over every mountain of at least 3000’. I think the total length of the trail is 270 miles. This was a well maintained trail with a log leanto every 3 miles and a small log cabin every 7 miles. First come, first served.
I found an offshoot trail that led to a place called French Camp which was always vacant. In 4-5 trips in I never saw another person. I hiked in for Labor Day weekend. As I started up the trail about 4-5 miles from the camp it started to snow. Very early for snow even there and it was a wet, heavy snow.
I got to the cabin and started gathering and splitting wood for the pot belly stove inside. I ate some bread and cheese, drank one of my two bottles of Liebfraumilch I had carried in, stoked the fire and curled up in my sleeping bag. It was absolutely quiet except for an occasional pop from the wood stove.
Sometime around 2:00 am I heard children crying and the door burst open. A family of four dragged themselves in, nearly psychotic from hyperthermia. The young boy and girl could not have been 10 years old. Their parents were sobbing and incoherent. I jumped up and got the fire roaring.
I always carried two cans of chicken noodle soup as an emergency ration. I warmed them up on the stove to try and get them some body heat. I looked around outside. There was almost two feet of heavy wet snow. If I hadn’t been there I am positive they would have all died before they could have gotten a fire going.
Before it got light I had them all tucked in their sleeping bags warmed by the fire.
At the break of day I scouted around outside. The tracks they made at 2am were covered with more snow. I asked the fellow where he had parked. They had parked at Smugglers Notch ski area. For them to take the main trail out, it was going to be about a 7-8 mile hike out in snow over 2 feet deep. None of them were dressed for cold weather.
I never took the main trail to get to French Camp. I took a steep trail which wasn’t maintained that basically went straight up and down the mountain. I went and checked the trail and it was fairly clear. Most of the snow was still up in the tree tops.
I had them pack up and told them I was going to check the trail. They were afraid I was going to leave them. It took a lot of convincing to assure them I would be back. I carried my pack up and it was rough going but it was passable and if I could get them up that way it would cut more than 5 miles off their hike out. I knew it was the only way they were going to be able to hike out on their own.
Once I got to the top of the mountain I dropped my pack and ran/walked down the trail as fast as I could. It had started snowing lightly and I had no idea what we were in for. I herded them together, grabbed the man’s pack and one of the kid’s and convinced them to follow me. He carried the youngest child.
I told them to take it as slow as necessary and I would be right back. I raced up the mountain, dropped the packs and ran/slid back down. I just made a round trip of about two miles and they had made it about 100 feet. It was going to be a long day. I grabbed the woman’s pack and the other child’s pack and became worried. They wanted to go back to the cabin. I knew there was no more food and we had used up almost all of the firewood the night before. I didn’t see that as an option. Before they could argue anymore I raced up the mountain, dropped the packs and raced back down. They were still hiking up but slowly. I grabbed up the boy, the Dad had the little girl, and we slowly but surely made our way up to the top.
We gathered up the packs, tying the two kids packs to mine. We still had about a mile to go but this was all downhill using one of the main ski runs at Smugglers Notch. I looked at the ski lift to the left of us and sure wished it had been operating. It was slow going because of all the snow but they followed behind me as a I did my best to plow a trail for them. As we descended the amount of snow decreased quite a bit due to the lower altitude. That made the last quarter mile or so seem like a walk in the park compared to what I had just been through.
I got them in the car and let them warm up with the heat while I packed their bags in the back. I put mine in and the guy asked what I was doing. I told him I needed a ride to my car which was about 5 miles up the road. He started to argue saying he needed to get his family to town to get something to eat. I started to get my bag out. I guess the woman saw the dejection in my face. She got out of the car and loaded my pack back in and said it was the least they could do. They asked for my address so they could send a thank you note and a Christmas card. I looked for that Christmas card for years. When I used to tell this story I used to say they sent me Christmas cards for years afterwards. That part wasn’t true. It was only what I had wished for.
I know I saved their lives that weekend. I hope they had the chance to pay it forward some day.
I hope they went camping again. I certainly did. I haven’t been back there since 1978. I am trying to figure out if I can get back to French Camp when the colors change this fall. It is one of the most beautiful and tranquil areas I have ever been.
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When I used to tell this story I used to say they sent me Christmas cards for years afterwards. That part wasn’t true. It was only what I had wished for.
I can send you a postcard if it will cheer you up.
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This one’s for @FISH
I don’t remember if this happened in 1975 or 1976.
I took up backpacking when stationed at Plattsburgh AFB. I would rent equipment from the base rec center for the weekend and usually drove to Vermont to hike segments of the Long Trail. This trail goes from the southern border of Vermont to the Canadian border and cross crosses the state to go over every mountain of at least 3000’. I think the total length of the trail is 270 miles. This was a well maintained trail with a log leanto every 3 miles and a small log cabin every 7 miles. First come, first served.
I found an offshoot trail that led to a place called French Camp which was always vacant. In 4-5 trips in I never saw another person. I hiked in for Labor Day weekend. As I started up the trail about 4-5 miles from the camp it started to snow. Very early for snow even there and it was a wet, heavy snow.
I got to the cabin and started gathering and splitting wood for the pot belly stove inside. I ate some bread and cheese, drank one of my two bottles of Liebfraumilch I had carried in, stoked the fire and curled up in my sleeping bag. It was absolutely quiet except for an occasional pop from the wood stove.
Sometime around 2:00 am I heard children crying and the door burst open. A family of four dragged themselves in, nearly psychotic from hyperthermia. The young boy and girl could not have been 10 years old. Their parents were sobbing and incoherent. I jumped up and got the fire roaring.
I always carried two cans of chicken noodle soup as an emergency ration. I warmed them up on the stove to try and get them some body heat. I looked around outside. There was almost two feet of heavy wet snow. If I hadn’t been there I am positive they would have all died before they could have gotten a fire going.
Before it got light I had them all tucked in their sleeping bags warmed by the fire.
At the break of day I scouted around outside. The tracks they made at 2am were covered with more snow. I asked the fellow where he had parked. They had parked at Smugglers Notch ski area. For them to take the main trail out, it was going to be about a 7-8 mile hike out in snow over 2 feet deep. None of them were dressed for cold weather.
I never took the main trail to get to French Camp. I took a steep trail which wasn’t maintained that basically went straight up and down the mountain. I went and checked the trail and it was fairly clear. Most of the snow was still up in the tree tops.
I had them pack up and told them I was going to check the trail. They were afraid I was going to leave them. It took a lot of convincing to assure them I would be back. I carried my pack up and it was rough going but it was passable and if I could get them up that way it would cut more than 5 miles off their hike out. I knew it was the only way they were going to be able to hike out on their own.
Once I got to the top of the mountain I dropped my pack and ran/walked down the trail as fast as I could. It had started snowing lightly and I had no idea what we were in for. I herded them together, grabbed the man’s pack and one of the kid’s and convinced them to follow me. He carried the youngest child.
I told them to take it as slow as necessary and I would be right back. I raced up the mountain, dropped the packs and ran/slid back down. I just made a round trip of about two miles and they had made it about 100 feet. It was going to be a long day. I grabbed the woman’s pack and the other child’s pack and became worried. They wanted to go back to the cabin. I knew there was no more food and we had used up almost all of the firewood the night before. I didn’t see that as an option. Before they could argue anymore I raced up the mountain, dropped the packs and raced back down. They were still hiking up but slowly. I grabbed up the boy, the Dad had the little girl, and we slowly but surely made our way up to the top.
We gathered up the packs, tying the two kids packs to mine. We still had about a mile to go but this was all downhill using one of the main ski runs at Smugglers Notch. I looked at the ski lift to the left of us and sure wished it had been operating. It was slow going because of all the snow but they followed behind me as a I did my best to plow a trail for them. As we descended the amount of snow decreased quite a bit due to the lower altitude. That made the last quarter mile or so seem like a walk in the park compared to what I had just been through.
I got them in the car and let them warm up with the heat while I packed their bags in the back. I put mine in and the guy asked what I was doing. I told him I needed a ride to my car which was about 5 miles up the road. He started to argue saying he needed to get his family to town to get something to eat. I started to get my bag out. I guess the woman saw the dejection in my face. She got out of the car and loaded my pack back in and said it was the least they could do. They asked for my address so they could send a thank you note and a Christmas card. I looked for that Christmas card for years. When I used to tell this story I used to say they sent me Christmas cards for years afterwards. That part wasn’t true. It was only what I had wished for.
I know I saved their lives that weekend. I hope they had the chance to pay it forward some day.
I hope they went camping again. I certainly did. I haven’t been back there since 1978. I am trying to figure out if I can get back to French Camp when the colors change this fall. It is one of the most beautiful and tranquil areas I have ever been.
@GravitySucks , you have lived your life WELL. As we would drive on Interstate 87 to / from the Canadian border, I would look out the window. I wondered how people survive in this rugged landscape. Wild beauty was out my window. We always stopped at Lum’s Family Restaurant, State Route 3, Plattsburgh for a meal.
I read your story three times. Your story is deep. I need time to think it over--why no Christmas Card? One thing is for sure is that you saved 2 adults and 2 children from dying in that wild beauty in Vermont.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smugglers%27_Notch_Resort
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When I was 10 and in my prime as 3rd baseman on the Northlake Pirates Little League team, my uncle took me to watch a Cubs vs SF Giants baseball game. Willy McCovey was playing first base for the Giants and Ernie Banks was playing first for the Cubs. Our seats were in the front row of the field boxes right at first base. Towards the end of the game a foul ball was hit sky high and was destined to be caught by me with my freshly oiled glove at the ready. My uncle pushed me out of the way to catch the ball barehanded. The ball slipped through his hands and broke his nose. Served him right. He got blood on my Ron Santo #10 cotton Cubs home jersey that I had bought myself with my paper route money.
Damn, I still to this day hate that I never got to see/hear Santo's reaction to the world series win.
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@GravitySucks , you have lived your life WELL. As we would drive on Interstate 87 to / from the Canadian border, I would look out the window. I wondered how people survive in this rugged landscape. Wild beauty was out my window. We always stopped at Lum’s Family Restaurant, State Route 3, Plattsburgh for a meal.
I read your story three times. Your story is deep. I need time to think it over--why no Christmas Card? One thing is for sure is that you saved 2 adults and 2 children from dying in that wild beauty in Vermont.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smugglers%27_Notch_Resort
I don’t know if they lost my address or just forgot about me by the time Christmas rolled around.
@FISH the next time you go to Plattsburgh I would like to recommend a stop at a historic bar and restaurant in the small downtown area. The Monopole Bar
http://www.monopolebar.com/history.html
I may or may not have been there and may or may not have shared a joint with a rather famous high jumper whose initials are DS (and a shot putter whose initials are AF) right before they got arrested. SUNY Plattsburgh and Plattsburgh AFB were used as the staging/training grounds for the US Olympic Team right before the 1976 Olympics in Montreal. I met Bruce Jenner in the BX. He was there with his wife and a little dog that had a sweater that said “Run Bruce Run” on it.
I spent a lot of time in the Monopole and it is still open. Their single slices of deep dish pizza was something people would like up for.
They asked me to join the US Team Handball team which would have at least gotten me into the Olympics but I had already been selected to try out for the 1977 US Bobsled team and it would have interfered with my training. I ended up making the US team. This is us in St Moritz for the World Championships.
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I can send you a postcard if it will cheer you up.
Nah big guy. I’m good now. Years of therapy and two ECT sessions and I’m good as new.
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Damn, I still to this day hate that I never got to see/hear Santo's reaction to the world series win.
Santo, Kessinger, Beckett, Banks... the infielders third to first.
Santo was my absolute idol and hero as a kid. Kenny Hubbs was my first Cubs hero until he died in a plane crash.
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I don’t know if they lost my address or just forgot about me by the time Christmas rolled around.
@FISH the next time you go to Plattsburgh I would like to recommend a stop at a historic bar and restaurant in the small downtown area. The Monopole Bar
http://www.monopolebar.com/history.html
I may or may not have been there and may or may not have shared a joint with a rather famous high jumper whose initials are DS (and a shot putter whose initials are AF) right before they got arrested. SUNY Plattsburgh and Plattsburgh AFB were used as the staging/training grounds for the US Olympic Team right before the 1976 Olympics in Montreal. I met Bruce Jenner in the BX. He was there with his wife and a little dog that had a sweater that said “Run Bruce Run” on it.
I spent a lot of time in the Monopole and it is still open. Their single slices of deep dish pizza was something people would like up for.
They asked me to join the US Team Handball team which would have at least gotten me into the Olympics but I had already been selected to try out for the 1977 US Bobsled team and it would have interfered with my training. I ended up making the US team. This is us in St Moritz for the World Championships.
@GravitySucks , I can not believe that I meet someone in EllGab who was trying out for the Olympics. I guess Art Bell's fans came from all walks of life. I have been traveling up and down to Canada for over 30 years. I had a love hate relationship with Plattsburgh. Traveling to and from Canada, Pattsburgh was our gas /food stop. We were almost there-YEAH. We are on our way home-BOO! The food sucked in Plattsburgh. To this day, jokes are made about the food at Lum’s. I call it "lungs". Thanks for the info on Monopole.
Regarding the Christmas card. After thinking it over, I believe that your address was lost or destroyed by moisture. These parents were careless people. Only a careless parent would put their children in harm's way. No way did they forget you. You don't forget the people who saved you from harm. I think that they kept you in their prayers. Maybe that is why you have survived despite your habit of bobsledding.
I come from a family that loves true stories about life. You must have more stories.
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@GravitySucks , I can not believe that I meet someone in EllGab who was trying out for the Olympics. I guess Art Bell's fans came from all walks of life. I have been traveling up and down to Canada for over 30 years. I had a love hate relationship with Plattsburgh. Traveling to and from Canada, Pattsburgh was our gas /food stop. We were almost there-YEAH. We are on our way home-BOO! The food sucked in Plattsburgh. To this day, jokes are made about the food at Lum’s. I call it "lungs". Thanks for the info on Monopole.
Regarding the Christmas card. After thinking it over, I believe that your address was lost or destroyed by moisture. These parents were careless people. Only a careless parent would put their children in harm's way. No way did they forget you. You don't forget the people who saved you from harm. I think that they kept you in their prayers. Maybe that is why you have survived despite your habit of bobsledding.
I come from a family that loves true stories about life. You must have more stories.
I saw @Bart Ell at the Pyramid Mall once. There was a Howard Johnson’s right down the Road. I waved and said “Hey dude. Going to head to HoJo’s. Wanna eat some clams man?” He waved me off. “Just treated my posse to some poutine in the Food Court. We’ll pass.” I won’t say I was devastated, but it left me a bit down in the dumps.
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I saw @Bart Ell at the Pyramid Mall once. There was a Howard Johnson’s right down the Road. I waved and said “Hey dude. Going to head to HoJo’s. Wanna eat some clams man?” He waved me off. “Just treated my posse to some poutine in the Food Court. We’ll pass.” I won’t say I was devastated, but it left me a bit down in the dumps.
@GravitySucks -are you kidding me about Bart Ell? The part about poutine sound correct but the rest of it... :-X
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I saw @Bart Ell at the Pyramid Mall once. There was a Howard Johnson’s right down the Road. I waved and said “Hey dude. Going to head to HoJo’s. Wanna eat some clams man?” He waved me off. “Just treated my posse to some poutine in the Food Court. We’ll pass.” I won’t say I was devastated, but it left me a bit down in the dumps.
Was there a food court there?
The only thing I remember was a pizza place across from K-Mart.
I was 7 so I may have overlooked the other fine dining options.
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Pattsburgh was our gas /food stop
Yup.
We would stop for gas and Mountain Dew because Mountain Dew had not made it to Canada yet.
Give me a mountain and nothing to do,
Give the sunshine, give me a Dew
Stupid commercial possessed my child mind!
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Was there a food court there?
The only thing I remember was a pizza place across from K-Mart.
I was 7 so I may have overlooked the other fine dining options.
Did your handlers ever take you over to Hinky Dinky or whatever that grocery store was in the same parking lot?
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Yup.
We would stop for gas and Mountain Dew because Mountain Dew had not made it to Canada yet.
Give me a mountain and nothing to do,
Give the sunshine, give me a Dew
Stupid commercial possessed my child mind!
Gas, the DEW and a snack at Lum’s Lung's restaurant?
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There were two Howard Johnson’s in Plattsburgh. One on the other side of the freeway from Pyramid Mall and one on the highway on the north side of town on the way to Rouses Point. (22?)
4 of us zoomies would go every Thursday night for “All you can eat fried clams”. Eventually the manager by the one by Pyramid Mall came up to our table. “You gentlemen do know that there is another Howard Johnson’s in town, don’t you? I can’t afford to keep letting you eat here.”
I have not eaten at a Howard Johnson’s since. That caused a butterfly effect and destroyed the thriving nationwide chain in a matter of a few years.
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Did your handlers ever take you over to Hinky Dinky or whatever that grocery store was in the same parking lot?
I thought it was Price Chopper.
I don't remember much about Plattsburgh.
I remember a jet on display, the mall, being disappointed in finally trying a Baby Ruth and not much else.
I may have believed that the Baby Ruth had something to do with Babe Ruth.
#FuckPeanuts
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Gas, the DEW and a snack at Lum’s Lung's restaurant?
I have a vague memory of the sign but I doubt I ever ate there
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I thought it was Price Chopper.
I don't remember much about Plattsburgh.
I remember a jet on display, the mall, being disappointed in finally trying a Baby Ruth and not much else.
I may have believed that the Baby Ruth had something to do with Babe Ruth.
#FuckPeanuts
Last time I was there was 1980. Not 100% sure on the store.
I remember the B-47 on static display at the base gate. Every winter they would use a crane to lift a huge Santa Claus on top of it behind the cockpit. One year the Press Republican printed a nice big picture on the front page. The next day they printed a tirade that someone had written up as a Letter to the Editor.
It lamblasted the Air Force for violating the “separation of church and state” and went on to add that in spite of that “it was sacrilegious to have a religious statue mounted on top a weapon of war.”
#nottheonion
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I have a vague memory of the sign but I doubt I ever ate there
Did Lum's have pie? Ask Milton Berle!
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I have a vague memory of the sign but I doubt I ever ate there
I just looked it up. I couldn’t remember it. Now that I have seen the picture I vaguely remember eating there once.
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I just looked it up. I couldn’t remember it. Now that I have seen the picture I vaguely remember eating there once.
At first the food was great..
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At first the food was great..
There used to be a little hot dog stand south of the base on route 9. They served some kind of chili dogs they called “Michigans”.
I have never heard of a chili dog being called a Michigan anywhere else.
Have you ever had a Michigan?
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There used to be a little hot dog stand south of the base on route 9. They served some kind of chili dogs they called “Michigans”.
I have never heard of a chili dog being called a Michigan anywhere else.
Have you ever had a Michigan?
Never been to Michigan.
Last summer we took a trip to Fort Ticonderoga and Mount Defiance--amazing view of Lake Champlain.
We would travel to Savannah for Saint Patrick's Day fun.
-Fort Rucker, Alabama for a graduation ceremony
-Fort Polk, Louisiana for a graduation ceremony.
I guess I like to visit Forts.
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When I joined the Air Force bobsled team in 1975 several members were already on the team that were from the Lake Placid area. They had been recruited specifically to be on the bobsled team.
One of the drivers was the son of the owners of the Maple Leaf Motel in Lake Placid. This is where we would stay every winter. He and I would train together. He helped me to learn how to drive the two man and I helped him how to learn to train to be an athlete.
He got out of the Air Force shortly after 1980 and became a Lake Placid cop. Once while looking up the news in Plattsburgh, I learned he had just been selected as Chief of Police there. He ended up finishing his career and retiring as Chief of Police. I met up with him at a mini-reunion in Jacksonville Florida - maybe 5 years ago.
I still keep in touch with several of the members of the team.
There are a few others from other teams I have fond memories of that I would like to run into again.
If you have ever watched bobsledding on TV during the last 30 years the chances are that the announcers included a guy by the name of John Morgan. He and two of his brothers were bobsledders and his sister competed in Luge. Their father was a famous bobsledder. “Dew Drop” Morgan owned the Dew Drop In in Saranac Lake. The only time I have ever been arrested was after 50 cent Molson night in the Dew Drop Inn.
The state police were going to arrest someone that night, and since the guy that was driving the Jeep happened to be the son-in-law of the Senior Zone Sergeant at the Saranac Lake Police Barracks, they arrested me. The charges were dropped by a friendly judge a few days later.
John Morgan stopped bobsledding after 1980 and began broadcasting the bobsled races. I was watching the World Championships in 1981 at Cortina, Italy. John’s brother, Jimmy was driving the USA 1 four man sled. He took the finish curve wrong and rolled over as he crossed the finish line. His head got caught between the cowling and the wall and he was killed while his brother was standing there announcing the race live. I never liked Jimmy, but that was a hell of a thing to have happen.
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Never been to Michigan.
Last summer we took a trip to Fort Ticonderoga and Mount Defiance--amazing view of Lake Champlain.
We would travel to Savannah for Saint Patrick's Day fun.
-Fort Rucker, Alabama for a graduation ceremony
-Fort Polk, Louisiana for a graduation ceremony.
I guess I like to visit Forts.
I arrived at Plattsburgh AFB in May, 1975. It couldn’t have happened at a better time. The Bicentennial was approaching. The summer Olympics were scheduled for Montreal. The Winter Olympics were scheduled for Lake Placid.
I attended the re-enactments at Fort Ticonderoga. I have pictures of all the reenactors but don’t have any online. One summer I explored the abandoned “Ft Blunder” which had been abandoned after it was discovered it was built on the wrong side of the border just north of Rouses Point. I have pictures of my 1972 yellow Mercury Capri parked inside the remains of the fort but now I don’t think you can drive there. I think it is surrounded by swamp now.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Montgomery_(Lake_Champlain)
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When I joined the Air Force bobsled team in 1975 several members were already on the team that were from the Lake Placid area. They had been recruited specifically to be on the bobsled team.
One of the drivers was the son of the owners of the Maple Leaf Motel in Lake Placid. This is where we would stay every winter. He and I would train together. He helped me to learn how to drive the two man and I helped him how to learn to train to be an athlete.
He got out of the Air Force shortly after 1980 and became a Lake Placid cop. Once while looking up the news in Plattsburgh, I learned he had just been selected as Chief of Police there. He ended up finishing his career and retiring as Chief of Police. I met up with him at a mini-reunion in Jacksonville Florida - maybe 5 years ago.
I still keep in touch with several of the members of the team.
There are a few others from other teams I have fond memories of that I would like to run into again.
If you have ever watched bobsledding on TV during the last 30 years the chances are that the announcers included a guy by the name of John Morgan. He and two of his brothers were bobsledders and his sister competed in Luge. Their father was a famous bobsledder. “Dew Drop” Morgan owned the Dew Drop In in Saranac Lake. The only time I have ever been arrested was after 50 cent Molson night in the Dew Drop Inn.
The state police were going to arrest someone that night, and since the guy that was driving the Jeep happened to be the son-in-law of the Senior Zone Sergeant at the Saranac Lake Police Barracks, they arrested me. The charges were dropped by a friendly judge a few days later.
John Morgan stopped bobsledding after 1980 and began broadcasting the bobsled races. I was watching the World Championships in 1981 at Cortina, Italy. John’s brother, Jimmy was driving the USA 1 four man sled. He took the finish curve wrong and rolled over as he crossed the finish line. His head got caught between the cowling and the wall and he was killed while his brother was standing there announcing the race live. I never liked Jimmy, but that was a hell of a thing to have happen.
This John Morgan?
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Yep. That’s the one. His sister, Bridget, is much better looking.
His little brother Sean is ugly as all get out.
He had another brother, Terry that tried bobsled but concentrated on Luge. Terry was the best athlete of the family. He played college football for a couple of years.
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This is what a trip down the bobsled run looked like in 1980. The rider calls out the curves.
Halfway down is Shady. At the end of that straight a way is little S, 12 and then zigzag.
My last run down in 1980 we rolled over gently in the second part of little S. I got away from the sled as we slid through 12 with the sled on its side. Coming out of 12 the pushbar snagged my clothes and the bobsled beat the shit out of me on the straight away before zigzag. I remember telling myself to relax and go limp.
We were doing close to 80mph when we rolled over. Our sled weighed 660 pounds. The other 3 guys weighed close to 600 pounds. I was 153. I was going down feet first on my stomach and could feel my clothes starting to melt and burn I was on the wrong side of the sled going into zigzag. The sled slid up on top of me and crushed me into the lip that you see above the curve in the film. The sled kept going and I dropped down into the belly of zag and came to a stop. I rolled onto my back. For a split second I had 1200+ pounds on my back. I remember it getting very dark.
I couldn’t move my arms. I had a scratch across my goggles where the push bar tried to skewer me through my head. My clothes were literally smoking. The nylon track suit had melted.
I had crushed both ulnar nerves and had 3rd degree burns on my left elbow, 2nd degree burn on my right elbow and 3rd degree burns and lacerations where my hip bones had taken the brunt of the weight in Zig.
I made a few attempts a few days later at pushing the sled on the hockey rink in Lake Placid and I still firmly believe I could have competed in the Olympics. We had the fastest push starts on the mountain and we had just rented the fastest sled in the US to use in the Olympics. I am not sure if the entire decision making process but I think my driver lost his nerve or my coach wanted our sled for his brother to use. If it had just been a case of me being injured they could have replaced me. But no one on my sled competed again.
My hands were paralyzed for about 18 months before the nerves finally regenerated. Maybe I should have taken up Team Handball and went to the 76 Summer Olympics.
BTW - if I hadn’t reinforced the camera mount and put a strap and duct tape over the brackets that CBS used to get this footage they would have lost a very expensive camera and we wouldn’t have this footage.
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This is what a trip down the bobsled run looked like in 1980. The rider calls out the curves.
Halfway down is Shady. At the end of that straight a way is little S, 12 and then zigzag.
My last run down in 1980 we rolled over gently in the second part of little S. I got away from the sled as we slid through 12 with the sled on its side. Coming out of 12 the pushbar snagged my clothes and the bobsled beat the shit out of me on the straight away before zigzag. I remember telling myself to relax and go limp.
We were doing close to 80mph when we rolled over. Our sled weighed 660 pounds. The other 3 guys weighed close to 600 pounds. I was 153. I was going down feet first on my stomach and could feel my clothes starting to melt and burn I was on the wrong side of the sled going into zigzag. The sled slid up on top of me and crushed me into the lip that you see above the curve in the film. The sled kept going and I dropped down into the belly of zag and came to a stop. I rolled onto my back. For a split second I had 1200+ pounds on my back. I remember it getting very dark.
I couldn’t move my arms. I had a scratch across my goggles where the push bar tried to skewer me through my head. My clothes were literally smoking. The nylon track suit had melted.
I had crushed both ulnar nerves and had 3rd degree burns on my left elbow, 2nd degree burn on my right elbow and 3rd degree burns and lacerations where my hip bones had taken the brunt of the weight in Zig.
I made a few attempts a few days later at pushing the sled on the hockey rink in Lake Placid and I still firmly believe I could have competed in the Olympics. We had the fastest push starts on the mountain and we had just rented the fastest sled in the US to use in the Olympics. I am not sure if the entire decision making process but I think my driver lost his nerve or my coach wanted our sled for his brother to use. If it had just been a case of me being injured they could have replaced me. But no one on my sled competed again.
My hands were paralyzed for about 18 months before the nerves finally regenerated. Maybe I should have taken up Team Handball and went to the 76 Summer Olympics.
BTW - if I hadn’t reinforced the camera mount and put a strap and duct tape over the brackets that CBS used to get this footage they would have lost a very expensive camera and we wouldn’t have this footage.
WOW! Just WOW! Scares the crap outta me just watching. 😳
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WOW! Just WOW! Scares the crap outta me just watching. 😳
I had competed in the four man for 5 years and drove the two man for 4 1/2 years. Mostly at Lake Placid with a few trips down St Moritz practicing for the World Championships in 1977. I would estimate that I had between 2500 and 3000 trips down the run, maybe 700 as a driver. I won races on the 4 man with at least 4 different drivers over the years but Billy was my primary driver and the guy I trusted the most.
I was only in two accidents. Both as the number two man on this Air Force sled.
The first accident was brutal as well. We stayed in zig too long and flew upside into zag. This is a picture of us going around zag with the driver unconscious. It was a hell of a ride. When we fell off of zag we came back down on our runners and went the rest of the way down without a driver. I tried but couldn’t reach the ropes with Billy passed out on top of me.
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I had competed in the four man for 5 years and drove the two man for 4 1/2 years. Mostly at Lake Placid with a few trips down St Moritz practicing for the World Championships in 1977. I would estimate that I had between 2500 and 3000 trips down the run, maybe 700 as a driver. I won races on the 4 man with at least 4 different drivers over the years but Billy was my primary driver and the guy I trusted the most.
I was only in two accidents. Both as the number two man on this Air Force sled.
The first accident was brutal as well. We stayed in zig too long and flew upside into zag. This is a picture of us going around zag with the driver unconscious. It was a hell of a ride. When we fell off of zag we came back down on our runners and went the rest of the way down without a driver. I tried but couldn’t reach the ropes with Billy passed out on top of me.
I didn’t take this picture but I was standing right next to the photographer as she took it. This is Zag. This is one of the East German sleds during practice for the 1978 World Championships in Lake Placid.
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I had competed in the four man for 5 years and drove the two man for 4 1/2 years. Mostly at Lake Placid with a few trips down St Moritz practicing for the World Championships in 1977. I would estimate that I had between 2500 and 3000 trips down the run, maybe 700 as a driver. I won races on the 4 man with at least 4 different drivers over the years but Billy was my primary driver and the guy I trusted the most.
I was only in two accidents. Both as the number two man on this Air Force sled.
The first accident was brutal as well. We stayed in zig too long and flew upside into zag. This is a picture of us going around zag with the driver unconscious. It was a hell of a ride. When we fell off of zag we came back down on our runners and went the rest of the way down without a driver. I tried but couldn’t reach the ropes with Billy passed out on top of me.
Watching these events on tv will be a whole different level for me since hearing your first hand accounts. Glad you made it with your life and all body parts still attached! Thank you for sharing such awesome memories, Grav!
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Watching these events on tv will be a whole different level for me since hearing your first hand accounts. Glad you made it with your life and all body parts still attached! Thank you for sharing such awesome memories, Grav!
I finally crushed all my PTSD over that whole episode and made myself go down the bobsled run at Whistler in Canada in December 2017. If we would have had the designs of the sleds like they are built now I never would have been injured. They wouldn’t let me drive but I rode number two.
On one of my computers I have the video from that run. If I can find it I will upload it to YouTube and post a link. We started somewhere around curve 7 if I remember correctly but we will went about as fast as our top speeds at Lake Placid. I didn’t enjoy it much but I am glad I did it in order to put that demon to rest. They have 4 tracks in North America now. Whistler, Calgary, Park City Utah and Lake Placid. The whole bottom half of Lake Placid has been redesigned. It seems much safer now.
I just looked it up. Seems Calgary closed down their run.
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Never been to Michigan.
Last summer we took a trip to Fort Ticonderoga and Mount Defiance--amazing view of Lake Champlain.
We would travel to Savannah for Saint Patrick's Day fun.
-Fort Rucker, Alabama for a graduation ceremony
-Fort Polk, Louisiana for a graduation ceremony.
I guess I like to visit Forts.
Been to Fort Ticonderoga. 45 years ago
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GS, this thread is fantastic! Outstanding. Thank you.
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This is what a trip down the bobsled run looked like in 1980. The rider calls out the curves.
Halfway down is Shady. At the end of that straight a way is little S, 12 and then zigzag.
My last run down in 1980 we rolled over gently in the second part of little S. I got away from the sled as we slid through 12 with the sled on its side. Coming out of 12 the pushbar snagged my clothes and the bobsled beat the shit out of me on the straight away before zigzag. I remember telling myself to relax and go limp.
We were doing close to 80mph when we rolled over. Our sled weighed 660 pounds. The other 3 guys weighed close to 600 pounds. I was 153. I was going down feet first on my stomach and could feel my clothes starting to melt and burn I was on the wrong side of the sled going into zigzag. The sled slid up on top of me and crushed me into the lip that you see above the curve in the film. The sled kept going and I dropped down into the belly of zag and came to a stop. I rolled onto my back. For a split second I had 1200+ pounds on my back. I remember it getting very dark.
I couldn’t move my arms. I had a scratch across my goggles where the push bar tried to skewer me through my head. My clothes were literally smoking. The nylon track suit had melted.
I had crushed both ulnar nerves and had 3rd degree burns on my left elbow, 2nd degree burn on my right elbow and 3rd degree burns and lacerations where my hip bones had taken the brunt of the weight in Zig.
I made a few attempts a few days later at pushing the sled on the hockey rink in Lake Placid and I still firmly believe I could have competed in the Olympics. We had the fastest push starts on the mountain and we had just rented the fastest sled in the US to use in the Olympics. I am not sure if the entire decision making process but I think my driver lost his nerve or my coach wanted our sled for his brother to use. If it had just been a case of me being injured they could have replaced me. But no one on my sled competed again.
My hands were paralyzed for about 18 months before the nerves finally regenerated. Maybe I should have taken up Team Handball and went to the 76 Summer Olympics.
BTW - if I hadn’t reinforced the camera mount and put a strap and duct tape over the brackets that CBS used to get this footage they would have lost a very expensive camera and we wouldn’t have this footage.
@GravitySucks - WOW this video is amazing. It gives me a view and sound of riding in a bobsled. The rider calls out the curves. Who is giving out the calls? The one in the front seat is the driver? Does the heaviest person sit in the last seat? I have rode in a toboggan with at least 5 people. We would arrange seating according to weight and skill. Fly off a toboggan is not fun. Thinking back to the story of Ethan Frome and Mattie. It sounds like your “smash-up” almost killed you. You must believe in FATE at this time in your life. This smash up has changed your life. Life has a way of breaking us up into pieces. It is want you do with the pieces that has meaning.
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Been to Fort Ticonderoga. 45 years ago
@anniem - Hello! Yes, @GravitySucks has some amazing stories. I really enjoy reading his story. I always read the stories and I watch the videos. I have lived my life well. However, my stories are more about the people in my life.
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The person you hear on the sled calling out the curves was a no name CBS journalist from Albany if I remember right.
A four man team comes together as a blend of speed and strength. For 5 years in a row my team had the fastest push starts.
The driver is usually a brakeman (last guy in the sled) that has gotten enough experience and decides to start driving. They can usually do ok pushing from the side unless they have gotten old and fat.
This wasn’t the case for my four man driver. He had never rode the sled in competition. He worked at the bobsled run and learned how to drive before he went into the Air Force. He was a good driver but he smoked, ran like a duck and couldn’t whip any of my three sisters. But he could drive a fast 4 man sled. We would have him help us get the sled started and jump right in.
Then we pushed like hell. I had several different team mates over the years but by 1980 the first 3 on the sled had been on the team together for 3 years. The brakeman by the theory is supposed to be the biggest and strongest and hopefully the fastest. In 1980 my coach had found an officer that had been on the track team at the Academy.
I was always having to compensate for my size and prove myself every year. I was only 5’9, 153 but starting in the tryouts for the 1977 US team I was always in the top 9 pushers and always the top number two man. I had a knack of knowing exactly how long to run and when to get in the sled while I was still pushing. If you wait too long the sled is pulling you. I never once missed getting into the sled. We practiced a lot on flat ice. We would take our sled down to Mirror Lake and cut a groove in the ice with a chainsaw. Then we would push back and forth and practice jumping in. This was great practice because if you weren’t all pushing as a team the sled would come out of the groove and start skidding.
After each race we would have to stand on the scales with our equipment. The weight limit to the four man and team was 1387 pounds. There were years when our sled by itself weighed over 670 pounds. We would bolt weighted bars in under our butts to get close to the max weight.
By the end of each year I could pick up the front or back of our four man sled and walk with it. At the beginning of the year I was probably stronger but didn’t quite have the core strength to walk around with that much weight.
Our team was always the smallest, lightest team in the US but we were also the fastest.
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@GravitySucks - WOW this video is amazing. It gives me a view and sound of riding in a bobsled. The rider calls out the curves. Who is giving out the calls? The one in the front seat is the driver? Does the heaviest person sit in the last seat? I have rode in a toboggan with at least 5 people. We would arrange seating according to weight and skill. Fly off a toboggan is not fun. Thinking back to the story of Ethan Frome and Mattie. It sounds like your “smash-up” almost killed you. You must believe in FATE at this time in your life. This smash up has changed your life. Life has a way of breaking us up into pieces. It is want you do with the pieces that has meaning.
@FISH
The wreck really did change my life. I had been taking some college courses at night in the summer and fall but I always had to skip the spring semester to compete in Lake Placid. That summer I decided if my hands were paralyzed I better work on my brain. I started going to classes at University of Nebraska at Omaha to finish my degree in Computer Science. I took every CLEP test I could and every weekend class I could from SIU and any nearby college. Some semesters I took over 20 hours at night and on weekends.
I needed one more 300 level Humanities class for my degree plan. The only one available that fit my schedule was one that was a physics/humanities class that was funded by NASA called “Philosophy of Space Exploration”. I took it pass/fail thinking it would be a blow off class for me. I became enthralled with it.
Until I moved to Texas between my Junior and Senior year I went to the same high school as Eugene Cernan. While I was taking this class NASA was beginning to launch the Space Shuttle. It renewed the interest I had for wanting to work in the space program. I finished that class and decided I was going to do everything I could to work at Johnson Space Center. I finished my degree right when my enlistment was up.
I had a Top Secret/SCI clearance and turned down a lot of lucrative job offers across the US to go to work for McDonnell Douglas down at JSC. STS-4 was the first mission I actually worked on. That led to working for 33 years on a myriad of NASA programs but mostly Shuttle and Station.
I eventually recovered from my hands being paralyzed but I do still suffer from some neuropathy and nerve damage. But yes. That accident changed my life and career path.
And yes, I believe in fate. Don’t always understand it, but generally accept it.
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@FISH
The wreck really did change my life. I had been taking some college courses at night in the summer and fall but I always had to skip the spring semester to compete in Lake Placid. That summer I decided if my hands were paralyzed I better work on my brain. I started going to classes at University of Nebraska at Omaha to finish my degree in Computer Science. I took every CLEP test I could and every weekend class I could from SIU and any nearby college. Some semesters I took over 20 hours at night and on weekends.
I needed one more 300 level Humanities class for my degree plan. The only one available that fit my schedule was one that was a physics/humanities class that was funded by NASA called “Philosophy of Space Exploration”. I took it pass/fail thinking it would be a blow off class for me. I became enthralled with it.
Until I moved to Texas between my Junior and Senior year I went to the same high school as Eugene Cernan. While I was taking this class NASA was beginning to launch the Space Shuttle. It renewed the interest I had for wanting to work in the space program. I finished that class and decided I was going to do everything I could to work at Johnson Space Center. I finished my degree right when my enlistment was up.
I had a Top Secret/SCI clearance and turned down a lot of lucrative job offers across the US to go to work for McDonnell Douglas down at JSC. STS-4 was the first mission I actually worked on. That led to working for 33 years on a myriad of NASA programs but mostly Shuttle and Station.
I eventually recovered from my hands being paralyzed but I do still suffer from some neuropathy and nerve damage. But yes. That accident changed my life and career path.
And yes, I believe in fate. Don’t always understand it, but generally accept it.
Growing up we were taught that “God works in strange ways”. What we call fate or coincidence may have been the right life plan for us all along. I think I do wish sometimes God would give us a little gentler nudge in that direction. LOL
Kudos to you, GS, for your accomplishments in a life indeed well lived! 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
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Growing up we were taught that “God works in strange ways”. What we call fate or coincidence may have been the right life plan for us all along. I think I do wish sometimes God would give us a little gentler nudge in that direction. LOL
Kudos to you, GS, for your accomplishments in a life indeed well lived! 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
@Jayzelady , I also wished that God would give us a more gentler nudge as we find our way. @GravitySucks is living a well lived life.
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@GravitySucks , do you have new random memories from a life well lived while "Under The Milky Way"?