Scene Of The Crime

Pete was pretty kind. He knows the real reason I didn't call the Fire department to help get me out of the sink hole. You see, after 20+ years doing such jobs, Pete knows I don't have the self control to resist pushing the Cocoa Beach Firefighters out of the way and trying to, once again, take charge! Cocoa Beach Fire is great at what they do. It wouldn't have been cool if that actually happened, so I just did it myself. A little fall-out of the career . . . it's tough to use the services now in so many situation.

Anyway, this photo is what the once peaceful yard looks like now, after pumping and what-not.

Flashes of my 1st day on the job: We were pumping millions of gallons of water from a flooded industrial utility tunnel. The 2 senior guys told me to "stay put and knock out any whirl-pools that form so the pump doesn't suck any air . . . otherwise the pump will be destroyed and on your head. We'll be right back."

Standing guard over this hole, flash light shinning down, alone in the middle of the night in the middle of an abandon industrial complex. Looking all around, shadows, a rickety old water tower groaning in the wind . . . where did those guys go anyway? A couple of rats run buy. I'm good. I'm cool. Let me look down in there, see how much water is left. I get down on me knees to shine the light deep into the tunnel. It's weird. Shine Southward down the tunnel, hard to tell. Rotate slowly, looking carefully for clues. East, Northeast, BAM! Faces! Karp & Bob! I jumped back, almost out of my gear! #*%^ers!

New guy. Those were the days!