The Mohican Board! [Bumppo's Redux!]

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richfed
Sachem

USA

Bumppo's Patron since [at least]:
May 13 2002

Status: offline

Administrator

Posted - February 04 2003 : 7:43:00 PM

I was reading a thread found in the Archives of this Board [inadvertently archived, I might add, if you remember] called Finding RichFed. It reminded me of something ... something I thought I had recounted here, but apparently, I did not. So, here it goes now ...

It was, I think, New Year's Eve back in 1983, or was it '84? Somewhere around there. I was working at the Harlem Valley Psychiatric Center in Wingdale, NY ... "caring" for the mentally ill. This was before I transferred to the secure unit. I worked days. The evening shift was coming on this day, about 4PM, and it was their practice to account for all patients before accepting the ward.

Well, one guy was missing ... a wiry, long-time resident by the name of George. Being the least senior employee on duty, all other day shift vamoosed - leaving me with the responsibility of bringin' old George home so the evening fellas could settle in.

OK. It was New Year's Eve. I wanted out of there, and soon, so admittedly I wasn't in the best of moods. I put on my coat and trekked outside into the cold air. The ground was snow covered. It was, after all, the dead of winter in the frigid Hudson Valley, 80 miles, or so, north of the BIG city.

I soon found George, in a phone booth out in front of the Administration Building. Let me tell you, George was ... well, he was ... crazy ... way out there. He was ranting & raving on the phone - though I doubt very much that anyone was on the other end - about spies, and conspiracies, and other deluded thoughts ... it seemed he was "talking" to the FBI, or maybe the White House. That's how these guys are. They go right to the top.

Anyway, I waited patiently for a few seconds, got his attention, and asked him to get off the phone & return to the ward. He garbled some insanity back at me & continued. I told him to get off the phone & return to the ward. He garbled some more insanity back at me. I wasn't in the mood. I grabbed the receiver out of his hand & slammed it down.

Old George wasn't in the mood, either, it would appear. He glared at me; then pounced. I was halfway in the booth, halfway way out. My left foot slipped on the icy ground and down we both went ... rolling around on the ground. As we struggled, I head the crunching of the crusted snow under running footsteps. Intermingled, was the tinkling of glass banging together ... a six pack of beer that accompanied those running feet in a brown paper bag. The footsteps & beer got closer & closer ... and then there were three. My rescuer was Hawkeye & I was Duncan in dire need of assistance there on the George Road ...

Needless to say, that was Jim Mann coming to my rescue on his way in to work. That's the kind of guy Securemann is ... always there when you need him. And that's how we met ... rolling around with a crazy man on a cold & snowy New Year's Eve.

Destiny!

We worked together on the secure ward - with the really dangerous guys - for a couple of years after that. We got to roll around on the ground together several more times during that span. By then, I figured I had enough experience to become a postal worker ...

Just thought I'd recount that!

Cheers, Jim!

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securemann
Deerslayer

USA

Bumppo's Patron since [at least]:
July 08 2002

Status: offline

Posted - February 05 2003 : 01:47:11 AM

O.k. now, it's almost 1:00 a.m. on Feb 5th. I was stumbling around the kitchen looking for the tylenol.I'm all slept out but still have the flu.I gazed over at the computer and said,"what the heck,lets go to mohicanland".There I find a story by King Rich that did my little sick heart good. I used to walk to work back then.When I came upon the swaying phone booth,the first thing I noticed was this Frank Zappa look-a-like fighting for his life.Now being the well trained fellow that I was,I quickly differentiated who was the normal one and who was the disturbed one.But anyway,they both came crashing out of the phone booth and to the sidewalk.I do remember Rich's ponytail flying all over the place.As they hit the ground,they rolled across the sidewalk and into the street.I said to myself,"that's all I can stand,and I can't stand no more"! Now Rich,that wasn't beer you heard when I placed down my bag.Not a paper bag,it was a totes carrying vinyl bag.No beer,I had a gallon of Gallo red wine inside.Man,I really would of gotten upset if I broke that bottle.But anyway,getting back to the Federici free-for-all,I said to myself why isn't this ponytailed fellow employing the universal techinque in order to bring this scuffle to a close.So I figured I would jump in and employ it.Bingo! scuffle over.After that,our families became good friends and of course many more scuffles.The rest is history.O.K.,now I'm going to try to get some sleep and thanks for the story Rich old pal!