(written Monday, posted Wednesday)
APD, the title is for you. I thought you’d like it. Went w/ a HoH theme throughout. I do think you could get a sunburn out here this week if you put your mind to it.
The warm weather is quite dissimilar from the last time I was out here in the winter. I might have to give that the “Life Episode” treatment sometime. (OK. Long story short … tbKMD’s family had Dolberry standing out on a major Phoenix thoroughfare holding a sign in my short sleeves in a 40 degree rain. Considering the downwash & spray created by the cars speeding by at 50 mph, the wind chill wet bulb temperature was probably ~25-30. I think it was some sort of hazing ceremony.) Today it was an easy 70 w/ a satisfying sun.
Conference is fine so far. Seen a number of old colleagues. They’d probably say the same about me.
I’m surprised how many memories I have of Phoenix. They all sort of radiated down riding back on the shuttle bus, gazing out the empty back of the bus at the South Mountains. Warm replays of leaving the Valley the first time, riding back to St. Louis w/ John, Beth, and Bridget … crying silently behind sunglasses halfway to New Mexico dreading a summer away from tbKMD.
(we were children then)
It was the first time I met most of tbKMD’s family. Who knows what they thought of Dolberry, but here’s what I remember thinking about them. They were kind of scary.
(footprints in the sand)
It’s one of the happiest blessings of my life that those scary people accepted me as part of their family. Eventually all of them became less scary. It took Mary the longest. Part of it was her tape player which repeated eight Garth Brooks songs over and over in a first day programmer’s loop. Part of it was her tenacious love for her daughters. It was as obvious then as it is now that tbKMD deserves way more than what she got. (No tradebacks!) Over time though, my relationship w/ Mary became something that I really appreciated. She laughed at all my lousy jokes & I did the same for hers. And it was genuine laughter. Nobody could make more smiles w/ less material than Mary. And during that one Chicago spring where Dolberry kinda lost it … Mary straightened me out w/ a simple reminder that nothing was going to happen that day that God & I couldn’t get through together. Before I knew it, we were good friends.
(and like that sand through our hands go our grandest plans)
The year she was sick went like a blur. There was sudden bad but uncertain news. Then it got worse. For a while the medicine worked, but then it didn’t. And we shared lots of happy times. And there were lots of nice talks and visits. And we took pictures in the fallen leaves and with new puppies. And right after that APD & I were out standing on the driveway under a halo-wrapped moon and she was gone.
(and through the cloud of death we find our way back home)
And sitting here in the Valley of the Sun, I selfishly wish I could go back in time and live it all over again. I’d do some things different (see summer jobs entry) but mostly just to experience it all over again. It's been too fun. Like always, I’m just so grateful for all the people in my life, the ones who are on the other side and the ones still here.
(the end … is not the end)
Showing posts with label life episodes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life episodes. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Life Episodes: The Hospital Laundry
In tonight's episode of "Life Episodes" ... that very special segment we sometimes run here at the DCV ... you know the one where we document the most memorable times in Dolberry's life ... (no? seriously? look back at the archives!) ... we're going to take a look back at the summer I worked at the Humana Southeast Regional Laundry. Basically, it was the summer I spent living the life of a John Steinbeck character.
(Have you ever noticed that the DCV uses a lot of ellipses ... those things right there? It's because we've lost confidence in how to use commas and semicolons. Wikipedia implies that Dolberry is on solid ground in using this device to indicate a pause in thought. So there.)
Anyway, here are my 11 most favorite jobs I've ever had (in the beloved countdown format). And please don't misunderstand ... I do not like work in any format really. So, by "favorite", I really mean "least loathsome". And by "job", I mean somebody paid me (or pays me) to do it.
11 - Research Assistant at University of Chicago
10 - Environmental Something or Another at MCNC
9 - Babysitting
8 - Sticking Random Labels on Random Forms Drone for Standard Register
7 - Environmental Protection Specialist at EPA, Region 5
6 - Modeling Director at LADCO
5 - Maintenance Worker at the Executive Inn
4 - Umpire for Hikes Point Optimist baseball
3 - Physical Scientist @ NOAA/EPA (esp. when it involves 5-day weekends like right now)
2 - Lifeguard at Woodhaven
1 - Vacation Sales Representative for Nabisco
The only job that did not make the list was the one my dear mother got me one summer at a hospital laundry. Apparently she had an "in" with someone who ran this slave labor camp in the Bluegrass Industrial Park which was conveniently located about 5 miles from our house. Dolberry doesn't remember exactly how his mom knew the Stalinesque supervisor of the laundry. I think it involved Jazzercise.
Anyway, to this point, Dolberry had done jobs #2, #4, #5, #8, and #9 ... all of which complied with basic OSHA standards for worker safety. And really Dolberry was ok with a third year of spending 15-20 hours of each summer week, avoiding the sun and warding off girls at the pool, but Mom convinced me that $0.35 less per hour was a good tradeoff for the opportunity to work 40-hour weeks (more on this later).
The summer before I'd been a maintenance worker at a hotel in Louisville (the Executive Inn). This was a good job ... in the cushy variety that I favor when it comes to occupations. Mr Luersen, a neighbor, had gotten me the job. My "maintenance" duties consisted of:
1) mowing the lawn (easy),
2) watering flowers (easier), and
3) drinking unlimited free soda with the crew in our break room (easiest).
(It is also at this job that I learned one of my favorite quotes ever, from our foreman: "We didn't get much done today, but will give'r hell tomorrow.")
So, I show up for the first day at the laundry expecting to meet some new friends and earn a few bucks ... and get my caffeine fix for the summer.
And this is no exaggeration ... I was so exhausted by the noon lunch break I put my head down on the lunch break table and slept away my 30 minute reprieve from the floor. And 15 minutes of the morning was spent in orientation.
It was the most awful job you can imagine. Go ahead ... imagine the worst job you can think of ... I'll wait ...
Yeah, this was way worse than that.
One bad thing about a hospital laundry is that people who go to a hospital often do not maintain the same hygiene level that folks outside hospitals do. I guess that's why they're in the hospital. I don't know ... I'm not a doctor. So, they bleed on stuff. They throw up on stuff. They pee on stuff. And worse. I know what you're saying ... "Well they throw all that stuff away." No, my friend, they do not. Or at least they didn't 20 years ago. They sent it to the Bluegrass Industrial Park and insisted that people making $3.55 an hour restore this stuff to its original luster. This was in the early days of AIDS but before the term "biohazard" had been coined. You'd often see needles in the incoming baskets.
Another bad thing about a hospital laundry is that there is no air conditioning. My job was to take the clothes out of the industrial washers and put them in the industrial dryers. The washers provided a nice tropical humidity and the dryers added a nice Saharan touch that combined to put heat indexes up into the 110s in the environs where I spent 8 to 9 to 10 to 11 hours a day.
That was another bad thing about the hospital laundry. You never knew when you were going home. Basically, you worked until the trucks quit bringing dirty laundry. We didn't get overtime, though. Everyday was 8 hours on the timecard. For the life of me, I still don't see how that could have been even close to legal.
At the end of that first lunch, one of my co-workers roused me out of my labor-induced coma and encouraged me that I would get used to it. I guess that was one of the nice things about the hospital laundry ... my co-workers. Dolberry was definitely the outlier ... the college boy ... the kid who knew the boss (as evidenced by he acknowledged me at least 2-3 times that summer) ... the boy who would be out of here in three months. But they accepted me. That's either a testament to the basic goodness of the common working person or a testament to the fact that Dolberry is just so darned likeable. And while there were definitely some lifers on the crew, there was a heavy rotation. So much so, that by August I was one of the veterans. You'd ask someone at lunch "Where's Tommy?" and they'd say "What? Didn't you see the news last night? I TOLD him that First National Bank ATMs had cameras. Idiot!"
Anyway, by the end of the summer I was in awesome shape. Best shape of my life. Was anxious to get back to SLU for my junior season of cross-country. Sadly, they canceled the program that fall so they could have more women sports. Seriously?
And as I look back on this, Dolberry is puzzled. I learned a valuable lesson about hard work that summer. I learned that for whatever reason, I had started life leading off 3rd base while some were still in the batting box. The blessings that I'd been given (loving parents, nice house, good schools, passably tolerable sisters, supreme intelligence, and overpowering charisma among others) ... maybe hadn't been bestowed in an equal manner on everyone else. That some people have to work incredibly hard to narrow out what many would consider to be a meager existence. The puzzling thing is that this seems like a lesson that the fatherly El Cueto would have tried to instill. Instead he got me the job where I drank soda and ate Oreos (the next two summers) and it was La Cueta that got me this job. One thing's for sure, I never complained again about her potato soup after that summer.
Writing all this down made me feel a little guilty ... not because the prose here is achingly beautiful ... which it is ... but because I know there are millions of people today working laundry-like jobs.
Sometimes, it seems like being thankful isn't enough for all the blessings you've been given.
Happy T-giving to all DCV readers!
(Have you ever noticed that the DCV uses a lot of ellipses ... those things right there? It's because we've lost confidence in how to use commas and semicolons. Wikipedia implies that Dolberry is on solid ground in using this device to indicate a pause in thought. So there.)
Anyway, here are my 11 most favorite jobs I've ever had (in the beloved countdown format). And please don't misunderstand ... I do not like work in any format really. So, by "favorite", I really mean "least loathsome". And by "job", I mean somebody paid me (or pays me) to do it.
11 - Research Assistant at University of Chicago
10 - Environmental Something or Another at MCNC
9 - Babysitting
8 - Sticking Random Labels on Random Forms Drone for Standard Register
7 - Environmental Protection Specialist at EPA, Region 5
6 - Modeling Director at LADCO
5 - Maintenance Worker at the Executive Inn
4 - Umpire for Hikes Point Optimist baseball
3 - Physical Scientist @ NOAA/EPA (esp. when it involves 5-day weekends like right now)
2 - Lifeguard at Woodhaven
1 - Vacation Sales Representative for Nabisco
The only job that did not make the list was the one my dear mother got me one summer at a hospital laundry. Apparently she had an "in" with someone who ran this slave labor camp in the Bluegrass Industrial Park which was conveniently located about 5 miles from our house. Dolberry doesn't remember exactly how his mom knew the Stalinesque supervisor of the laundry. I think it involved Jazzercise.
Anyway, to this point, Dolberry had done jobs #2, #4, #5, #8, and #9 ... all of which complied with basic OSHA standards for worker safety. And really Dolberry was ok with a third year of spending 15-20 hours of each summer week, avoiding the sun and warding off girls at the pool, but Mom convinced me that $0.35 less per hour was a good tradeoff for the opportunity to work 40-hour weeks (more on this later).
The summer before I'd been a maintenance worker at a hotel in Louisville (the Executive Inn). This was a good job ... in the cushy variety that I favor when it comes to occupations. Mr Luersen, a neighbor, had gotten me the job. My "maintenance" duties consisted of:
1) mowing the lawn (easy),
2) watering flowers (easier), and
3) drinking unlimited free soda with the crew in our break room (easiest).
(It is also at this job that I learned one of my favorite quotes ever, from our foreman: "We didn't get much done today, but will give'r hell tomorrow.")
So, I show up for the first day at the laundry expecting to meet some new friends and earn a few bucks ... and get my caffeine fix for the summer.
And this is no exaggeration ... I was so exhausted by the noon lunch break I put my head down on the lunch break table and slept away my 30 minute reprieve from the floor. And 15 minutes of the morning was spent in orientation.
It was the most awful job you can imagine. Go ahead ... imagine the worst job you can think of ... I'll wait ...
Yeah, this was way worse than that.
One bad thing about a hospital laundry is that people who go to a hospital often do not maintain the same hygiene level that folks outside hospitals do. I guess that's why they're in the hospital. I don't know ... I'm not a doctor. So, they bleed on stuff. They throw up on stuff. They pee on stuff. And worse. I know what you're saying ... "Well they throw all that stuff away." No, my friend, they do not. Or at least they didn't 20 years ago. They sent it to the Bluegrass Industrial Park and insisted that people making $3.55 an hour restore this stuff to its original luster. This was in the early days of AIDS but before the term "biohazard" had been coined. You'd often see needles in the incoming baskets.
Another bad thing about a hospital laundry is that there is no air conditioning. My job was to take the clothes out of the industrial washers and put them in the industrial dryers. The washers provided a nice tropical humidity and the dryers added a nice Saharan touch that combined to put heat indexes up into the 110s in the environs where I spent 8 to 9 to 10 to 11 hours a day.
That was another bad thing about the hospital laundry. You never knew when you were going home. Basically, you worked until the trucks quit bringing dirty laundry. We didn't get overtime, though. Everyday was 8 hours on the timecard. For the life of me, I still don't see how that could have been even close to legal.
At the end of that first lunch, one of my co-workers roused me out of my labor-induced coma and encouraged me that I would get used to it. I guess that was one of the nice things about the hospital laundry ... my co-workers. Dolberry was definitely the outlier ... the college boy ... the kid who knew the boss (as evidenced by he acknowledged me at least 2-3 times that summer) ... the boy who would be out of here in three months. But they accepted me. That's either a testament to the basic goodness of the common working person or a testament to the fact that Dolberry is just so darned likeable. And while there were definitely some lifers on the crew, there was a heavy rotation. So much so, that by August I was one of the veterans. You'd ask someone at lunch "Where's Tommy?" and they'd say "What? Didn't you see the news last night? I TOLD him that First National Bank ATMs had cameras. Idiot!"
Anyway, by the end of the summer I was in awesome shape. Best shape of my life. Was anxious to get back to SLU for my junior season of cross-country. Sadly, they canceled the program that fall so they could have more women sports. Seriously?
And as I look back on this, Dolberry is puzzled. I learned a valuable lesson about hard work that summer. I learned that for whatever reason, I had started life leading off 3rd base while some were still in the batting box. The blessings that I'd been given (loving parents, nice house, good schools, passably tolerable sisters, supreme intelligence, and overpowering charisma among others) ... maybe hadn't been bestowed in an equal manner on everyone else. That some people have to work incredibly hard to narrow out what many would consider to be a meager existence. The puzzling thing is that this seems like a lesson that the fatherly El Cueto would have tried to instill. Instead he got me the job where I drank soda and ate Oreos (the next two summers) and it was La Cueta that got me this job. One thing's for sure, I never complained again about her potato soup after that summer.
Writing all this down made me feel a little guilty ... not because the prose here is achingly beautiful ... which it is ... but because I know there are millions of people today working laundry-like jobs.
Sometimes, it seems like being thankful isn't enough for all the blessings you've been given.
Happy T-giving to all DCV readers!
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Life Episodes: The Fleetwood Mac concert
In the continuing series of "Life Episodes", we're entering into the way back machine and turning the dial all the way back to November 7th, 1979. Your hero, Dolberry, has recently turned 13 and is in 7th grade at Myers Middle School.
(Aside here: my favorite memory of Myers Middle ... and admittedly it's the best from a small sample of happy memories ... is the week I got to walk home from school to Gma & Gpa Fitz house because I was staying there while my Mom & Dad were in ... Las Vegas. This (ahem) "hands-off" nature to parenting actually sets up the rest of the Life Episode pretty well. Second favorite memory was when Mrs Coffey gave me 5 demerits ... but you've all heard THAT story.)
Anyway, my best friend in those days was David DuBard (David, if you google search your name ... hey we all do it ... and get this link ... e-mail me ... hope all is well.) One of the radio stations in Louisville was running a "Magic Bus" contest. Winners got to invite a friend to accompany them on a bus ride to the Fleetwood Mac concert at the Riverfront Coliseum. Well, David was the 43rd caller (or whatever) and won two seats on the bus and he invited Dolberry to go as well.
Dolberry agreed to go, fully expecting his parents to sensibly veto this decision, thus allowing our hero to save face w/ his peers and at the same time not risk his barely-just-having-gotten-started life w/ 10,000 addled devotees of a mediocre group of 70's hippie rock. For whatever reason they did not. I have a vague recollection they were in Reno over that period ... but I could be wrong on that.
Now keep in mind, at age 13 Dolberry had been to exactly two concerts:
1) Joe Wise in a church gym w/ my entire fam (except El Cueto who was at the riverboat if I remember right), where we rocked out to numbers like "The Epic of Peanut Butter and Jelly" and "The Grizzleback Snookerhog", and
2) John Denver and the Starland Vocal Band w/ my Mom. (I think we got the tix from her bookie.)
Bottom line: I may not have been ready for the Fleetwood Mac Tusk tour. I know a fair number of 7th graders ... some of them read this blog. Frankly, I wouldn't trust one of them to point out Cincinnati on a map ... let alone travel two hours back and forth there on their own for a rock concert.
Anyway, I recall heading out from home on that Wednesday night ... a school night no less (!) ... telling Kathy & Kris that there was Mac & Cheese in the cupboard, to keep a good eye on Carrie, and that I'd be back sometime around 1 am. I walked up to that old Sub Shop near that rundown hotel near the intersection of I-64 and Hurstbourne. We met some of our compatriots on the magic bus and it was at best a "wayward" contingent. On the bus, our chaperone told us "that only cigarettes were allowed on the bus ... save the good stuff for the concert". Dolberry stood up in his bus seat and said "I'm OUT." I called my Mom and Dad (crying like a little girl) at the Bingo Hall and asked to be picked up.
There was a lot of fallout from that decision. 1. Dolberry grew a little bit by making a wise decision on his own and truth-be-told (unlike the rest of this post) those are the only experiences we really learn from ... when we're accountable for our own actions. 2. Dolberry was mocked by most of his 7th grade peers for a considerable period. 3. Dolberry's parents "re-engaged" w/ their parental responsibilities ... all is great now and I can't wait to see them at Churchill Downs this weekend.
(There was a tragic epilogue to the story. A little less than 4 weeks later, 11 people were killed at Riverfront Coliseum at a Who concert when the crowd attempted to storm the entry doors before the arena opened. Very sad.)
Anyway, let's end this blog bit on a happier and more traditional note ... w/ Dolberry's Top 10 Attended Concerts ever:
10. Big Country's New Year's Eve show at the Barrowlands (didn't actually attend ... but have the CD)
9. The Rainmakers @ Park West w/ Stephen in 1989?
8. Newsboys/Toby Mac/Relient K at Kings Dominion in 2005 w/ tbKMD and APD
7. Warren Zevon at the Park West in Chicago w/ Stephen and friends from EPA R5
6. Switchfoot in big old open field at Campbell Univ w/ the TCC YG
5. The Rainmakers in a "private concert" at WXRT studios w/ Stephen
4. John Mellencamp w/ the Super Sisters and Stephen in Indianapolis
3. John Denver w/ my Mom in Louisville a long long time ago
2. Switchfoot, Relient K, & Ruth w/ the beautiful KMD and APD last fall in Winston-Salem
1. U2 in St. Louis w/ Matt Jung
(Aside here: my favorite memory of Myers Middle ... and admittedly it's the best from a small sample of happy memories ... is the week I got to walk home from school to Gma & Gpa Fitz house because I was staying there while my Mom & Dad were in ... Las Vegas. This (ahem) "hands-off" nature to parenting actually sets up the rest of the Life Episode pretty well. Second favorite memory was when Mrs Coffey gave me 5 demerits ... but you've all heard THAT story.)
Anyway, my best friend in those days was David DuBard (David, if you google search your name ... hey we all do it ... and get this link ... e-mail me ... hope all is well.) One of the radio stations in Louisville was running a "Magic Bus" contest. Winners got to invite a friend to accompany them on a bus ride to the Fleetwood Mac concert at the Riverfront Coliseum. Well, David was the 43rd caller (or whatever) and won two seats on the bus and he invited Dolberry to go as well.
Dolberry agreed to go, fully expecting his parents to sensibly veto this decision, thus allowing our hero to save face w/ his peers and at the same time not risk his barely-just-having-gotten-started life w/ 10,000 addled devotees of a mediocre group of 70's hippie rock. For whatever reason they did not. I have a vague recollection they were in Reno over that period ... but I could be wrong on that.
Now keep in mind, at age 13 Dolberry had been to exactly two concerts:
1) Joe Wise in a church gym w/ my entire fam (except El Cueto who was at the riverboat if I remember right), where we rocked out to numbers like "The Epic of Peanut Butter and Jelly" and "The Grizzleback Snookerhog", and
2) John Denver and the Starland Vocal Band w/ my Mom. (I think we got the tix from her bookie.)
Bottom line: I may not have been ready for the Fleetwood Mac Tusk tour. I know a fair number of 7th graders ... some of them read this blog. Frankly, I wouldn't trust one of them to point out Cincinnati on a map ... let alone travel two hours back and forth there on their own for a rock concert.
Anyway, I recall heading out from home on that Wednesday night ... a school night no less (!) ... telling Kathy & Kris that there was Mac & Cheese in the cupboard, to keep a good eye on Carrie, and that I'd be back sometime around 1 am. I walked up to that old Sub Shop near that rundown hotel near the intersection of I-64 and Hurstbourne. We met some of our compatriots on the magic bus and it was at best a "wayward" contingent. On the bus, our chaperone told us "that only cigarettes were allowed on the bus ... save the good stuff for the concert". Dolberry stood up in his bus seat and said "I'm OUT." I called my Mom and Dad (crying like a little girl) at the Bingo Hall and asked to be picked up.
There was a lot of fallout from that decision. 1. Dolberry grew a little bit by making a wise decision on his own and truth-be-told (unlike the rest of this post) those are the only experiences we really learn from ... when we're accountable for our own actions. 2. Dolberry was mocked by most of his 7th grade peers for a considerable period. 3. Dolberry's parents "re-engaged" w/ their parental responsibilities ... all is great now and I can't wait to see them at Churchill Downs this weekend.
(There was a tragic epilogue to the story. A little less than 4 weeks later, 11 people were killed at Riverfront Coliseum at a Who concert when the crowd attempted to storm the entry doors before the arena opened. Very sad.)
Anyway, let's end this blog bit on a happier and more traditional note ... w/ Dolberry's Top 10 Attended Concerts ever:
10. Big Country's New Year's Eve show at the Barrowlands (didn't actually attend ... but have the CD)
9. The Rainmakers @ Park West w/ Stephen in 1989?
8. Newsboys/Toby Mac/Relient K at Kings Dominion in 2005 w/ tbKMD and APD
7. Warren Zevon at the Park West in Chicago w/ Stephen and friends from EPA R5
6. Switchfoot in big old open field at Campbell Univ w/ the TCC YG
5. The Rainmakers in a "private concert" at WXRT studios w/ Stephen
4. John Mellencamp w/ the Super Sisters and Stephen in Indianapolis
3. John Denver w/ my Mom in Louisville a long long time ago
2. Switchfoot, Relient K, & Ruth w/ the beautiful KMD and APD last fall in Winston-Salem
1. U2 in St. Louis w/ Matt Jung
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Life Episodes: April 3rd, 1974
As you'll recall the "Life Episode" segments on the DCV are reserved for those singular events that helped shape the legend that is Dolberry. 34 years ago today was one of those events. It was the Superoutbreak. 148 tornadoes in a mere 18 hours, including 6 F5's and 24 F4's. (For perspective, there's only been one U.S. F5 this decade, the Greensburg KS tornado last May.) Below is a map of the 148 twisters drawn by Dr. Ted Fujita (subject of very first DCV entry). Keen observers will note Tornado #48 ....
My first recollection of that day is that a round of severe storms rolled through Louisville around 10:30 that morning, an odd time for thunderstorms and one that foreshadowed the events to come. Dolberry was a strapping young 2nd grader at Kennedy Elementary impressing the teachers with his intellect AND his ability to avoid the lice outbreaks that were common that spring.
Rode the bus home and Mom took Kathy, Kris, Robbie Livingston, and I up to the barber shop on Patti Lane. Presumably, the prescient Dolberry had tactfully handled the haircut situation with the proper dash of complaint, because I remember we then headed to that old Ice Cream hut on Taylorsville Road. Coming out of the ice cream shop, I remember being greeted by the single blackest, most menacing cloud I had ever seen and have ever seen.
That's when things broke down a little. Mom, clearly stressed from an outing w/ four kids under eight, froze in her tracks. Dolberry, barely able to see over the steering wheel of the old Impala, had to drive the group home. Just after 4:15p, I turned on WHAS 840 on the car radio and heard John Burke of the Louisville NWS talking about how tornadoes ("tornadas" in his accent) had touched down Brandenburg and the hook echoes on the radar were heading toward Jefferson County. (Click that link above. Very cool.) While Dick Gilbert was up in Skywatch 84 avoiding "suspicious looking weather" in SW Louisville, Dolberry was flipping the radio dial around to avoid having to listen to horrid 1970s artists like B.J. Thomas and Paul Anka in between weather updates. Some have credited Dolberry for saving all five of our lives by having the composure to do this.
I rushed my mom and siblings out of the car and into our basement. Since our house was one of the few in the neighborhood w/ a basement, many of our neighbors came over to our house for safety. Dolberry had to calm many a frayed nerve exhibiting a steelyness beyond his seven years. We listened as the storm touched down right in front of the NWS forecasters eyes (Burke: "No tornado as of yet. High winds. Good gracious sake alive. There's 50 (mph winds) right there. By golly, the whole thing's going. Hear it? I'm going!") and ripped up the roof of Freedom Hall beginning a devastating F4 trek right through Louisville. (Gilbert: "It's a spectacular sight. Very black low clouds. Around Bowman Field. No definitive tornado yet ... Yes! There's one now. Dipping down. In the Highlands. Transformers have been blowing regularly.") We were down in the basement for a good 45 minutes before Dolberry ventured out to check the situation and sounded the all clear. There was another round of tornado warnings that night and we reprised the whole thing again, this time w/ a panicky El Cueto in the fold.
Anyway, it was this experience that made me want to be a meteorologist. I don't know what my life would have been like had the Superoutbreak never happened. And while it was a day upon which I can look back on my actions with pride ... I still don't like getting haircuts.
My first recollection of that day is that a round of severe storms rolled through Louisville around 10:30 that morning, an odd time for thunderstorms and one that foreshadowed the events to come. Dolberry was a strapping young 2nd grader at Kennedy Elementary impressing the teachers with his intellect AND his ability to avoid the lice outbreaks that were common that spring.
Rode the bus home and Mom took Kathy, Kris, Robbie Livingston, and I up to the barber shop on Patti Lane. Presumably, the prescient Dolberry had tactfully handled the haircut situation with the proper dash of complaint, because I remember we then headed to that old Ice Cream hut on Taylorsville Road. Coming out of the ice cream shop, I remember being greeted by the single blackest, most menacing cloud I had ever seen and have ever seen.
That's when things broke down a little. Mom, clearly stressed from an outing w/ four kids under eight, froze in her tracks. Dolberry, barely able to see over the steering wheel of the old Impala, had to drive the group home. Just after 4:15p, I turned on WHAS 840 on the car radio and heard John Burke of the Louisville NWS talking about how tornadoes ("tornadas" in his accent) had touched down Brandenburg and the hook echoes on the radar were heading toward Jefferson County. (Click that link above. Very cool.) While Dick Gilbert was up in Skywatch 84 avoiding "suspicious looking weather" in SW Louisville, Dolberry was flipping the radio dial around to avoid having to listen to horrid 1970s artists like B.J. Thomas and Paul Anka in between weather updates. Some have credited Dolberry for saving all five of our lives by having the composure to do this.
I rushed my mom and siblings out of the car and into our basement. Since our house was one of the few in the neighborhood w/ a basement, many of our neighbors came over to our house for safety. Dolberry had to calm many a frayed nerve exhibiting a steelyness beyond his seven years. We listened as the storm touched down right in front of the NWS forecasters eyes (Burke: "No tornado as of yet. High winds. Good gracious sake alive. There's 50 (mph winds) right there. By golly, the whole thing's going. Hear it? I'm going!") and ripped up the roof of Freedom Hall beginning a devastating F4 trek right through Louisville. (Gilbert: "It's a spectacular sight. Very black low clouds. Around Bowman Field. No definitive tornado yet ... Yes! There's one now. Dipping down. In the Highlands. Transformers have been blowing regularly.") We were down in the basement for a good 45 minutes before Dolberry ventured out to check the situation and sounded the all clear. There was another round of tornado warnings that night and we reprised the whole thing again, this time w/ a panicky El Cueto in the fold.
Anyway, it was this experience that made me want to be a meteorologist. I don't know what my life would have been like had the Superoutbreak never happened. And while it was a day upon which I can look back on my actions with pride ... I still don't like getting haircuts.
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