The Conservative Cave
The Bar => The Lounge => Topic started by: Tucker on December 24, 2008, 09:20:12 AM
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I remember mine well,as if it were yesterday. I'll never forget it. It was Christmas Eve, 1970. I was in the Army. I had just graduated from AIT at Ft. Huachuca, Az. on the 23rd. A group of us were driving up to Tuscon and I was catching a flight to Detroit the following day. I had a two week leave before I had to report for shipment over seas.
Everything was going well until we landed in Chicago. While waiting to catch a connecting flight, A snowstorm had set in and shut the airport down. I called my father and told him I was getting a room and that I didn't know when I would be home. He told me to wait in the airport and that he was coming to get me. He did. He drove from Detroit to Chicage on Christmas Eve, in a blizzard to get me so the whole family could be at home on Christmas morning. We did bring and drop off two other soldiers that were going the same way.
Every Christmas Eve I think of this with strong emotions. He passed away a few years back but would like to say, thanks Dad and a merry Christmas. I have never forgotten what you did for me.
(Sorry if this is too corny. I have never related this before)
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Great story, Tuck.
That's a 5-hour drive under normal circumstances and traffic conditions, not easy at all.
It's great you had a Dad who was so determined to get his son home. :cheersmate:
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I dunno. All Christmas Eves, for me have been pretty mellow.
The one I remember the most was when I was 19 years old, in college, and my younger brother died in an automobile accident during final examinations, just before Christmas.
All that taken care of, I had to decide where to spend Christmas; I didn't want to spend it with any of the older brothers and sisters and their families.
I decided to go to my grandmother's in northeastern Pennsylvania.
The problem was, everything was all booked up, even trains and buses.
(This was, like, December 19.)
A neighbor who was a long-distance truck-driver heard of my situation, and got things lined up. I rode with him to Grand Island, Nebraska, where I got on board with another long-distance truck-driver headed to Chicago, who made arrangements for a third long-distance truck-driver to get me to Cincinnati, after which I was sent on my way with a fourth long-distance truck-driver to Cleveland, who then connected me with a fifth long-distance truck-driver to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and then I got from Harrisburg to Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania with a sixth.
It went like clockwork, and I got there on Christmas Eve, about 5:00 p.m.
I have no doubt God was pleased that these truck-drivers have since flourished and prospered, and am grateful for that.
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I dunno. All Christmas Eves, for me have been pretty mellow.
The one I remember the most was when I was 19 years old, in college, and my younger brother died in an automobile accident during final examinations, just before Christmas.
All that taken care of, I had to decide where to spend Christmas; I didn't want to spend it with any of the older brothers and sisters and their families.
I decided to go to my grandmother's in northeastern Pennsylvania.
The problem was, everything was all booked up, even trains and buses.
(This was, like, December 19.)
A neighbor who was a long-distance truck-driver heard of my situation, and got things lined up. I rode with him to Grand Island, Nebraska, where I got on board with another long-distance truck-driver headed to Chicago, who made arrangements for a third long-distance truck-driver to get me to Cincinnati, after which I was sent on my way with a fourth long-distance truck-driver to Cleveland, who then connected me with a fifth long-distance truck-driver to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and then I got from Harrisburg to Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania with a sixth.
It went like clockwork, and I got there on Christmas Eve, about 5:00 p.m.
I have no doubt God was pleased that these truck-drivers have since flourished and prospered, and am grateful for that.
That sounds like a harrowing ordeal. Another one of those lifelong memories.
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That sounds like a harrowing ordeal. Another one of those lifelong memories.
If it was harrowing, it was harrowing only for the truck-drivers.
I was tired, dragged out, listless, weary, and slept most of the time.
Of course, it wouldn't have been any better if I were social, because I can't hear.
These guys were great, and I kept in touch with them until I went away to the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants circa 10 years later.
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Las Vegas, the first year we were married.
We drove up to Mount Charleston and played in the snow and got hot cocoa at the lodge there and then went hot tubbing at our apartment complex. We didn't have the kids then so we opened our presents on Christmas Eve.
It was the first year we had any money to buy each other decent gifts. My wife still has the sewing machine I got her that year. :)
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Las Vegas, the first year we were married.
We drove up to Mount Charleston and played in the snow and got hot cocoa at the lodge there and then went hot tubbing at our apartment complex. We didn't have the kids then so we opened our presents on Christmas Eve.
It was the first year we had any money to buy each other decent gifts. My wife still has the sewing machine I got her that year. :)
Wait, you bought her a sewing machine and you're STILL married?
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Wait, you bought her a sewing machine and you're STILL married?
He made up for it and got a new dishwasher for her birthday. :lmao: :-)
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Wait, you bought her a sewing machine and you're STILL married?
Dude she knocked my boots like you would not BELIEVE over that thing. :-)
We both grew up poor and she had wanted one for going on 15 years.
And I must have picked out a good one because she thought it was the absolute to die for.
IIRC she gave me a complete corningware bakeware set that year.
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Dude she knocked my boots like you would not BELIEVE over that thing. :-)
We both grew up poor and she had wanted one for going on 15 years.
And I must have picked out a good one because she thought it was the absolute to die for.
IIRC she gave me a complete corningware bakeware set that year.
:bawl: that's so romantic...I love stories like that...and I'm not being sarcastic...