On this past week's 1988 calender of mine, Wednesday says, "Mike in hospital." He was there for smoke inhalation. 19 year old Mike was a volunteer firefighter. Maybe those guys are crazy, looking for a rush; but when my or your child is in danger, we couldn't be more thrilled to know them.
In the news this week is the shooting in Colorado. Several guns the medical student had, taking time to reload ...and no one rushed him. I understand it's a death wish and I definitely have to question myself on it, but I think it's safe to ascertain that one reason we cower to protect our existence is because most of us are simply unsure what will become of us in death. Meanwhile, children were being mowed down. Were there not any "men" in the room, much less civilians bearing arms?
A man's man Mike is. He began early, working outdoors on the golf course. Before that he played football and rode anything with wheels on as few wheels as humanly possible. He hung out at a body shop, went to bartending school, but was an apprentice plumber in Atlanta when I met him. I very clearly remember (down to what was on TV) the man I babysat for asking me if I really wanted to marry someone who did "laborious" work. I can't remember what I said, but I was probably thinking, "You don't know 'Mike'".
In the months leading up to our wedding, he went to truck driving school. It seemed like a great big adventure to him. His was hired to deliver furniture and I went with him anytime there was a break at GSU. For me, it was like getting paid to vacation. Best we can tell, our first daughter was conceived while we were delivering in Intercourse, Pennsylvania!
Before long, he was on to limo driving. He was of such interest to one client from South America, the president of Wells Fargo, that he took Mike in to eat with his family at a very high end restaurant in Atlanta. Ah, and I just remembered that he came to pick me up and take me out one time.
He delivered tankers full of milk for Atlanta Dairies and gas for, was it BP? He even betrayed Coke and delivered Pepsi for a while. And oh yeah, he was a painter for a while, painting jet skis for Yamaha. The guys used to come over after second shift and play cards at our house.
I'm sure he remembers the details better than I but he entered into a partnership with an old friend and began a pizza takeout. It was a good location and great food, almost too good because they had so much business that service became an issue. His friend walked away from the business at the urging of his snooty wife. Then the bottom just fell out.
Mike was on the road again but as a charter bus driver this time. His fondest memory of it is taking a group of teens to Colorado and climbing a mountain with them under a full moon and then basically sliding back down, wondering if he would survive. A close second was a church group and an older black lady who asked him some questions that began an encounter with God. At that point, after much consideration and a visit to the barracks of The 88 Mike, he enlisted in The Army, only to have a car hit him at a red light, with injuries that required knee surgery.
His quest continued with a position as dump truck driver for an explosives company. There, he and another driver decided to go into "business" together and wound up driving and dispatching 7 trucks. This time though, the bottom not only fell out but also sucked in our entire world.
Mike felt like there was nothing to do but start fresh. I, pregnant with our fourth child and first son, moved from Georgia to North Carolina with him ...funny though, we were on our way to Maine, which we'd flown to and loved. His uncle had a propane business nearby and set him up on a Hank Hill stint. At some point, he ended up being an Animal Control Agent for the county, but found himself on the road again when ends weren't meeting.
I forget the order sometimes, but he got back into trucking in the seat of a dump truck he contracted to the state for road work. He tried to expand and employ other drivers, but after several weeks of good report, his best driver "went off" and locked himself in his house. We had to take the truck and still don't know what happened.
Mike always has an ear out for something better and landed a job "piggy backing" Freightliner trucks all over the country. He got to fly back and had so many miles that he rode in first class. It didn't take him long to discover there was better money to be made, so we bought the famous "yellow truck" and began transporting by way of "lowboy", living pretty large ...until the union took over.
He tried hauling used cars and oversized flatbed loads. He finally had "enough" and enrolled in technical school, after all he knew almost everything about engines by then ...interesting that our oldest daughter went instead. Anyone who knows us well knows what happened next: the aortic bypass that sent him and the rest of us into a tailspin and rooted us here in New Hope.
Right now he has his own "authorities", completely responsible for all expenses: insurance, equipment, maintenance, repairs ...with no: paid vacation or holidays or "benefits". What he has though is our 7 year old son on a venture cross country. They started here in North Carolina, drove alongside the Columbia River to Washington State and are on their way back to the east coast, Rhode Island. They've gotten out to touch redwoods and rivers. They've watched the wildlife looking out over the hood of a truck. Each of our children has gotten to do these things.
Erratic much? You betcha. He's a layman, an entrepreneur, and even an inventor. He had a factory build a quality stainless steel telescoping handled carry-on toolbox but the materials were expensive and he just stopped pursuing it. He's a history and current events buff. On its roads for almost a quarter of a century, he's seen the economic and moral changes across the nation. He's stopped and tried all he could do to rescue dozens of people. He's looked into the eyes of a man who was pleading, clenching Mike's shirt ...trapped, burning alive. The extinguishers couldn't put out what the damaged fuel pump was feeding into the fire. I know, because 5 of the kids and I were there with him in Arkansas that day. Another time was a car on fire beside a gas pump. Mike parked our car in the road, ran in his coat and tie, and helped someone push it out of the way. And just a few months ago, he witnessed a man beating a woman in downtown San Antonio. He parked his rig right there, jumped out, and proceeded to deck the guy unconscious.
I know I've forgotten and didn't mention other things here; but in our time away from each other, he thinks I forget him. This is to remind him that I know there are plenty of masculine men around but not many are among the brave, the dedicated to family so much so that he would do anything to support his wife at home with his 7 children.
Most of us aren't precisely sure what we would do if a madman stormed the room ........... but I know what Mike would do.
Thank you. LOVE YOU
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