Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Grader

Sitting in a parking lot nearby, this grader is for sale. Wanna take a chance? Down on Bishop Street, Warren Brothers Paving Company had their plant, and after hours we did lots of investigating. It was a day of no fences or gates to keep us young guys out, so after the crews left at 4:30, it was our time to shine. We climbed on the pavers and into the cabs of their dump trucks and dreamed of doing the city's work. We   raced up slippery ladders and actually made our way into the plant itself. The smell of that black, gooey tar, that covered the streets of the city, was almost overwhelming on parts of the property, especially near the tar pit. When we saw those yellow and black trucks, graders and pavers around the city the next day, we could say, "Hey, I was driving that thing last night!" Mom just looked at me and seemed to say, "What in heaven's name are you talking about, boy?"

11 comments:

  1. :)
    I love your stories!
    Boy's stuffs!The yellow is impressive!
    Léia

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  2. You had an interesting (and probably dangerous) childhood! Are you still dreaming about driving this equipment?

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  3. The grader has had a hard life.
    It's a good thing your poor mother didn't know half the things you kids were up to.

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  4. j'aime bien le commentaire de Kate ;)

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  5. Wow, that color sure wakes one up in the morning!

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  6. And today, kids that age wake up on a summer morning, hide away in their room and check out the Internet. If they are lucky, they might see an old paver in a blog and read about some kids having great times checking out pavers and old buildings. Then they text and tweet to their "friends" what they just saw.

    And their friends may or may not be impressed. Or may be too busy sitting in their darkened rooms doing their own Internet stuff to care.

    Is this a great country, or what?

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  7. I always wondered what it would be like to drive on of those giant rollers that flattened the pavement.

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  8. I have fond memories of stealing one of those tractors doing work up the street and down the railroad tracks at the intersection of Allen Ave and Forest- with Billy Blackwell and Ray Lefevre- later that day we broke into Lyman Moore school and wrote obscenities on the wall and then finding a 1960 porsche with the keys in it at morong brothers and driving, barely reaching the pedals and grinding gears at every shift- eventually getting caught landing in court tesifying against LeFevre- an 18year old to Billy's 14 years and my 13 years - spilling the beans to the cops- they figured out I wasn't really Peter Parker, but was Danny DiBiase's kid, so I walked away with a slap on the wrist and Ray, up the river to Windham- ah, the good old days, already exhibiting ant-social behavior and ratting on a friend- although calling Ray a friend was a stretch... although I seemed to get my fill in that day and sooner than later realized jail wasn't a place to be- still, wriring about it now doesn't leave me with any regrets, just a strange memory.

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