#about goodyear

[aeide-thea]

if you didn't bother searching btw I'm pretty sure the author whose metaphors lydia davis is dragging is khaled hosseini lol

yes, specifically and the mountains echoed!

to be clear, i haven't actually read either author myself—though i do know davis is, like, a ~writer's writer~ whereas hosseini is bestselling, with everything that implies—and it's very possible that i'd prefer davis' work to hosseini's! i just was really struck by the level of doublethink davis was displaying there: absolutely wild, imo, to say “I don’t like to knock other writers as a matter of principle” as a preface to… doing exactly that?? not that many of us aren't hypocrites, of course, but one does sort of hope a writer would be more careful and honest in their observation of human foibles, even when the foibles in question are their own. (naive of me, i know.)

i think i'm also just a little startled that goodyear (the reporter) seems to take davis' self-assessment at more or less face value, and agree that "to be curmudgeonly was not the point"? i mean, goodyear does put the moment on the page, obviously, where it can speak for itself; but later on in the article she remarks, "as a person, davis is tactful if particular," and i just. i question this characterization, tbh! i don't think someone tactful ('considerate and discreet,' says american heritage) would have gone on record picking apart the work of a living author, in a way whose coyness actually makes the assessment seem more damning, imo—as if hosseini's writing were so shocking it could only be whispered about behind one's hand. which isn't to say it mightn't in fact be that shocking, don't get me wrong! but it's just such a passive-aggressive approach to criticism, and yet, somehow, doesn't seem to register that way with goodyear (possibly because it's at least less overt naming-and-shaming than is goodyear's own style, lol! but i digress).

that said, i do want to reiterate that i don't necessarily think davis has an obligation to be tactful? i can see arguments in favor of prioritizing kindness here and i can also see arguments in favor of prioritizing truth, as i said originally; i think it's easy to hate on women, in particular, for not behaving in ways that are sufficiently conciliatory, and i hope i'm not doing that here. but i guess i just also think—if one can't be both honest and kind, it's probably better to pick one and abide by it than to, in attempting to strike a balance, fall short of quite being either.

[badjokesbyjeff]

A lady about 8 months pregnant got on a bus she noticed the man opposite her was smiling at her. She immediately moved to another seat. This time the smile turned into a grin, so she moved again.

The man seemed more amused. When on the fourth move, the man burst out laughing, she complained to the driver and he had the man arrested.

The case came up in court. The judge asked the man (about 20 years old) what he had to say for himself. The young man replied, Well your Honor, it was like this : When the lady got on the bus, I couldn’t help but notice her condition. She sat down under a sign that said, “The Double Mint Twins are coming” and I grinned.

Then she moved and sat under a sign that said, “Logan’s Liniment will reduce the swelling”, and I had to smile. Then she placed herself under a deodorant sign that said, “William’s Big Stick Did the Trick”, and I could hardly contain myself.

But, Your Honor, when she moved the fourth time and sat under a sign that said, “Goodyear Rubber could have prevented this Accident”, I just lost it.

“CASE DISMISSED !!"

[the-best-bagel]

why are tires so fucking expensive biting killing maiming

[sudden-stops-kill]

mkiii

[maddi--paige]

waste management open 2.11.23

[marezablr]

when it comes to explaining gohan's weird quirks in relation to trauma (disclaimer), i think we are sleeping on the most obvious thing to accuse of being a trauma response: becoming an academic.

and i don't mean doing it because trauma made him hate fighting, or like bugs, or even anything about being a Good Son for his mother. i see these readings and i understand them, but i think we're looking at this the wrong way around.

i think we have to ask ourselves: what does becoming an academic mean?

here are just a few things that may have happened to gohan as an academic

comprehensive examination: he is left practically on his own to completely master a field of study in a span of roughly six months to a year. at the end of this period, he is put through an excruciating test of his abilities, with the stakes being that the world ends if he fails (he can't advance in his degree)

thesis writing: he is made to pour blood, sweat, and tears into his work. his supervisor tears the results to pieces and calls this mauling 'feedback.' he thanks his supervisor for this learning experience and rewrites until at last his supervisor begrudgingly admit that his efforts might be passable.

thesis defense: he stands before a group of people who are more experienced and powerful than him. they spend roughly three hours attacking him relentlessly. he has to endure it without flinching, or else the world ends (he doesn't get his degree)

publish or perish: he can never relax or take a break. he has to do research to get grant money. he has to get grant money to do research. he has to publish papers. is the Journal Impact Factor high enough? he has to keep going. he can't relax. if he slacks off, it's all over (he won't be able to get/keep an academic position)

tenure: one day, it'll be over. one day, he can slow down and relax. one day, it won't be life-or-death all the time. right?

goodyear-brown (2009) discusses a phenomenon where children removed from traumatic situations then develop anxiety because they're waiting for the other shoe to drop. they attempt to replicate the cycle of trauma->relief->trauma that they're used to and will drop the other shoe themselves if they can't get it.

so maybe gohan isn't an academic because he wants a peaceful life. maybe he's an academic because it's the best place to get that familiar, toxic combination of prolonged stress, extremely harsh mentorship, and sudden high-stakes trials he's comfortable with from growing up on the battlefield, but this time with no one's life actually on the line.

also because bugs are neat!

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Mantaray by Dean Jeffries

Mantaray by Dean Jeffries

The holy grail of the hot rod generation was to be able to fabricate beautiful car bodies in steel and other materials. Many of the kids who became Hot Rod building legends had honed their fabrication skills in the hot house of the WW2 American economy. The war ended and charged-up servicemen came home and wanted the buzz of driving fast cars. It was boom time in America and everything seemed possible.

Dean Jeffries was one of this generation of brilliant mechanics and fabricators with an audacious enough vision to dream with his eyes wide open. Having worked extensively with AC Cobra creator Carroll Shelby, he began to build the Mantaray in 1963 in response to a call for submissions to a high prestige competition that had been posted by a promoter called Al Slonaker.

The young Californian fused two old Maserati single seater chassis he had acquired and welded them together. The suspension, brakes, and steering were kept on for the finished article but apart from four Weber carburetors, the car was, he told Street Rodder Magazine recently “true-blue American, right down to the 15-inch magnesium-cast Halibrand wheels and the bred-for-Indianapolis Goodyear Blue Streak Speedway Special tires.”

Unsurprisingly, the gorgeously curvacious body Jeffries created (which was, apparently, hand-built from no less than 86 sheets of metal), was enough to win him the ‘contest of fame’. This not only won him a prize of $10,000 and a trip to Europe, but also changed the way the world thought about Hot Rods.

This is what we call truly creative car culture. And we love it.

Mantaray by Dean Jeffries

[deadpresidents]

Can you tell us more about James A Garfield and is there any media of him that you recommend? All I know is the book by Goodyear..

I always say that Garfield was one of the big "What if?" Presidents in American history had he not been assassinated. He was a fascinating character and could have been the transformational leader that propelled the United States through late-Reconstruction and the Gilded Age in ways that the other Presidents between Lincoln and McKinley were unable to do. Garfield was young (just 49 years old when he died), energetic, charismatic, absolutely brilliant, and aggressively progressive. He had ideas and the ability to implement them instead of simply being a steady hand. And, like JFK in a way, he brought his young, attractive family to the White House and that could have helped him lead the country in a different direction than his less engaging contemporaries who immediately preceded and succeeded him like Grant, Hayes, Arthur, Cleveland, and Benjamin Harrison. Garfield also had a somewhat mystical quality to him that I also believe would have captivated many Americans in an entirely new manner than most Presidents. The fact that he was only President for 199 days -- most of which were spent fighting for his life after he was shot -- is one of the great missed opportunities of American history.

For more on Garfield, the C.W. Goodyear biography that you mentioned, President Garfield: From Radical to Unified (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO), is the most recent (published in 2023) and fresh look at his life and career. But there are several others that I'd highly recommend checking out:

•Garfield by Allan Peskin (BOOK | KINDLE), was published in 1978 and, for many years, was the best, most in-depth full-fledged biography on Garfield. It's still a must-read, in my opinion. •Dark Horse: The Surprise Election and Political Murder of President James A. Garfield by Kenneth D. Ackerman (BOOK | KINDLE), was published in 2003, and is an excellent look at Garfield's shocking nomination and election in 1880, brief Presidency, and tragic assassination. •Touched With Fire: Five Presidents and the Civil War That Made Them by James M. Perry (BOOK | KINDLE), was also published in 2003. It's not a full biography of Garfield, but a look at the five Presidents who saw combat during the Civil War -- Grant, Hayes, Garfield, Benjamin Harrison, and McKinley -- and how those experiences shaped them. •Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine, and the Murder of a President by the always-awesome Candice Millard (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO), was published in 2011 and it is the definitive book on Garfield's assassination. It's a detailed illustration of the shooting that wounded Garfield and his brutal, two-and-a-half -month-long battle to attempt to survive his wounds -- a battle that was ultimately lost largely due to the botched medical "care" that the President received after he was shot. Candice's book reads like a novel and it's apparently the basis for the upcoming Netflix series, "Death by Lightning" featuring Michael Shannon, Betty Gilpin, Matthew Macfadyen, and Nick Offerman.

Also, PBS's American Experience released a fantastic, two-hour-long documentary on Garfield's assassination in 2016 called Murder of a President, which was also partially based on Candice Millard's book. I'm pretty biased when it comes to American Experience, which I believe is a national treasure, but Murder of a President is especially good. I don't know if you can watch it directly from the PBS American Experience website right now, but you can find the film on sites like iTunes and Amazon Prime.

[boeing-787]

Hey you know about the Goodyear inflatoplane right

I DOOOO I LOVE HER.... inflatable plane.....

[battle-of-the-birds]

Remember to read about the contestants before voting!

Pelagornis

Often said to be the largest flying bird on earth, the Pelagornis is an extinct, seafaring bird. Despite its looks, it is not closely related to the albatross. Pelagornis Sandersi's fossils were discovered during the building of the Charleston International Airport. Fancy that! Learn More!

Superb Fairy Wren

The Superb Fairy Wren is a little guy local to southern Australia! The females look much less fancy, but are still adorable. They even have a cute little dance they do to attract mates, using their beautiful feathers in a full dissolution. There are actually many different kinds of fairy wrens. Learn More!

(Pelagornis illustration by Mark P. Witton) (Superb Fairy Wren photo by Ricky Goodyear)

[transgenderer]

The Goodyear Inflatoplane was an inflatable experimental aircraft made by the Goodyear Aircraft Company, a subsidiary of Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company, well known for the Goodyear blimp. Although it seemed an improbable project, the finished aircraft proved to be capable of meeting its design objectives, although orders were never forthcoming from the military. A total of 12 prototypes were built between 1956 and 1959, and testing continued until 1972, when the project was finally cancelled.

The original concept of an all-fabric inflatable aircraft was based on Taylor McDaniel's inflatable rubber glider experiments in 1931. Designed and built in only 12 weeks, the Goodyear Inflatoplane was built in 1956, with the idea that it could be used by the military as a rescue plane to be dropped in a hardened container behind enemy lines. The 44 cubic ft (1.25 cubic meter) container could also be transported by truck, jeep trailer or aircraft.[1] The inflatable surface of this aircraft was actually a sandwich of two rubber-type materials connected by a mesh of nylon threads, forming an I-beam. When the nylon was exposed to air, it absorbed and repelled water as it stiffened,[clarification needed] giving the aircraft its shape and rigidity. Structural integrity was retained in flight with forced air being continually circulated by the aircraft's motor. This continuous pressure supply enabled the aircraft to have a degree of puncture resilience, the testing of airmat showing that it could be punctured by up to six .30 calibre bullets and retain pressure.[2][3] Goodyear inflatoplane on display at the Smithsonian Institution

There were at least two versions: The GA-468 was a single-seater. It took about five minutes to inflate to about 25 psi (170 kPa); at full size, it was 19 ft 7 in (5.97 m) long, with a 22 ft (6.7 m) wingspan. A pilot would then hand-start the two-stroke cycle,[1] 40 horsepower (30 kW) Nelson engine, and takeoff with a maximum load of 240 pounds (110 kg). On 20 US gallons (76 L) of fuel, the aircraft could fly 390 miles (630 km), with an endurance of 6.5 hours. Maximum speed was 72 miles per hour (116 km/h), with a cruise speed of 60 mph. Later, a 42 horsepower (31 kW) engine was used in the aircraft.

Takeoff from turf was in 250 feet with 575 feet needed to clear a 50-foot obstacle. It landed in 350 feet. Rate of climb was 550 feet per minute. Its service ceiling was estimated at 10,000 ft.

The test program at Goodyear's facilities near Wingfoot Lake, Akron, Ohio showed that the inflation could be accomplished with as little as 8 psi (544 mbar), less than a car tire.[1] The flight test program had a fatal crash when Army aviator Lt. "Pug" Wallace was killed. The aircraft was in a descending turn when one of the control cables under the wing came off the pulley and was wedged in the pulley bracket, locking the stick. The turn tightened until one of the wings folded up over the propeller and was chopped up. With the wings flapping because of loss of air, one of the aluminum wing tip skids hit the pilot in the head, as was clear from marks on his helmet. Wallace was pitched out, over the nose of the aircraft and fell into the shallow lake. His parachute never opened.[4]

To Die For the InflatoPlane

[queen-susans-revenge]

Things My Momma Taught Me

(reprinted: I actually wrote this years ago, but just stumbled across it again. And we're not too far off Mother's Day, so.)

So I was walking around the Tenderloin looking for stray twenty-dollar-bills that might have fallen into gutters, and I was thinking, as I often do, about my mother.

A few years ago my mom got all upset because she heard that today's youth lacked moral guidance. So she sat me down and she said, "Daughter," she said:

Don't ever cross a picket line.

Work for Greeks.

Don't you ever eat something that you find dead at the side of the road, unless you were in the car that killed it.

I'm not sure where my mom got her fine Depression-era set of ethics, except that I think she heard the last one on a radio show. Her enduring affinity for Greek employers (and her corresponding loathing for the French) probably stems from her experience working as a waitress in Alsace and Italy. Apparently, if you innocently drop a plate full of spaghetti in somebody's lap, and they have to go and make a big stink about it, your Greek boss will defend you, whereas your German boss will take the comp'ed meal out of your paycheck, and your French boss will probably slap you across the face.

Anyway, it's the first point that really stuck with me: I'm convinced that, in the Final Judgement, when the goddess Ma'at weighs our hearts on her golden scales, the murderers will make out better than the scabs. (And bad tippers will be thrown straight into the jaws of the crocodile.)

But speaking of my mom's international wisdom:

It's best if you don't eat raw oysters in a Mexican street market.

Here followed a tale of heartbreak and amoebic dysentery. But my mom survived both the oysters and the French, and pulled herself up by her bootstraps to become the world's leading eastern North-American paleoethnobotanist, which was always a lot of fun to write in the little blank under "Mother's Occupation." Now when she calls me up, her conversation tends to go something like this:

"It turns out you can tell the species of acorn just by looking very closely under the microscope. So that's very exciting. I'm going to have to try that on my own acorns when I get home. Mmph. Excuse me. I was pulling a cork out of a wine bottle, with my teeth."

But all intrepid globetrotting archaeologists need their endearing phobias. For Indiana Jones it was snakes. For my mom it's blimps. I don't know if she was a Hindenburg victim in a past life or what, but it's really no fun being in a car with her if there's a Goodyear Blimp in sight. She keeps scanning the sky anxiously, wondering if it's following her, wondering if it's watching us. Also among her bizarre phobias is the conviction that I'll be sent to jail someday…ha ha! Trés absurd!

Laugh, damn you.

Anyway, back to the blimp thing. For a woman of science, Mom is actually very attuned to signs and portents. There was this one time that a headless pigeon fell from the sky, literally at her feet.

These are bad times.

"These are bad times," she told me. "Bad times, when headless pigeons fall from the sky." And I can't deny it.*

But the last thing my mom taught me, the biggest thing really, and more important than Fortean events, is the definition of love. I remember when I was a little kid, I got worms. Just like a dog. Tiny little white wrigglers that squimed around in my asshole. And they itched and would keep me awake at night. So I remember that, in the weeks it took for my de-worming pills to work, my mom would spend an hour or so every night picking these worms out of my butt so that I could get to sleep.

That is love, in all its shocking profundity. When you spend hours picking worms out of somebody's buttcrack, that is love.

So, I love you too, Mom. Thanks for picking the worms out of my butt. Thanks for getting me drunk all those times. Thanks for teaching me right from wrong, and thanks, in advance, for posting my bail.

Happy Mother's Day.

*later she called me back up to tell me it was a good portent actually. It happened because a hawk had moved in to the neighborhood.

[slopmaster9000]

really good idea ive been thinking about lately: replace the goodyear blimp with blåhaj.

^like this

[girderednerve]

i have once more Read a Book !

the book was jim morris' cancer factory: industrial chemicals, corporate deception, & the hidden deaths of american workers. this book! is very good! it is primarily about the bladder cancer outbreak associated with the goodyear plant in niagara falls, new york, & which was caused by a chemical called orthotoluedine. goodyear itself is shielded by new york's workers' comp law from any real liability for these exposures & occupational illnesses; instead, a lot of the information that morris relies on comes from suits against dupont, which manufactured the orthotoluedine that goodyear used, & despite clear internal awareness of its carcinogenicity, did not inform its clients, who then failed to protect their workers. fuck dupont! morris also points out that goodyear manufactured polyvinyl chloride (PVC) at that plant, and, along with other PVC manufacturers, colluded to hide the cancer-causing effects of vinyl chloride, a primary ingredient in PVC & the chemical spilled in east palestine, ohio in 2023. the book also discusses other chemical threats to american workers, including, and this was exciting for me personally, silica; it mentions the hawks nest tunnel disaster (widely forgotten now despite being influential in the 30s, and, by some measures, the deadliest industrial disaster in US history) & spends some time on the outbreak of severe silicosis among southern california countertop fabricators, associated with high-silica 'engineered stone' or 'quartz' countertops. i shrieked about that, the coverage is really good although the treatment of hawks nest was very brief & neglected the racial dynamic at play (the workers exposed to silica at hawks nest were primarily migrant black workers from the deep south).

cancer factory spends a lot of time on the regulatory apparatus in place to respond to chemical threats in the workplace, & thoroughly lays out how inadequate they are. OSHA is responsible for setting exposure standards for workplace chemicals, but they have standards for only a tiny fraction—less than one percent!—of chemicals used in american industry, and issue standards extremely slowly. the two major issues it faces, outside of its pathetically tiny budget, are 1) the standard for demonstrating harm for workers is higher than it is for the general public, a problem substantially worsened during the reagan administration but not created by it, and 2) OSHA is obliged to regulate each individual chemical separately, rather than by functional groups, which, if you know anything at all about organic chemistry, is nonsensical on its face. morris spends a good amount of time on the tenure of eula bingham as the head of OSHA during the carter administration; she was the first woman to head the organization & made a lot of reasonable reforms (a cotton dust standard for textile workers!), but could not get a general chemical standard, allowing OSHA to regulate chemicals in blocks instead of individually, through, & then of course much of her good work was undone by reagan appointees.

the part of the book that made me most uncomfortable was morris' attempt to include birth defects in his analysis. i don't especially love the term 'birth defect'—it feels cruel & seems to me to openly devalue disabled people's lives, no?—but i did appreciate attention to women's experiences in the workplace, and i think workplace chemical exposure is an underdiscussed part of reproductive justice. cancer factory mentions women lead workers who were forced to undergo tubal ligations to retain their employment, supposedly because lead is a teratogen. morris points at workers in silicon valley's electronics industry; workers, most of them women, who made those early transistors were exposed to horrifying amounts of lead, benzene, and dangerous solvents, often with disabling effects for their children.

morris points out again & again that we only know that there was an outbreak of bladder cancer & that it should be associated with o-toluedine because the goodyear plant workers were organized with the oil, chemical, & atomic workers (OCAW; now part of united steelworkers), and the union pursued NIOSH investigation and advocated for improved safety and monitoring for employees, present & former. even so, 78 workers got bladder cancer, 3 died of angiosarcoma, and goodyear workers' families experienced bladder cancer and miscarriage as a result of secondary exposure. i kept thinking about unorganized workers in the deep south, cancer alley in louisiana, miners & refinery workers; we don't have meaningful safety enforcement or monitoring for many of these workers. we simply do not know how many of them have been sickened & killed by their employers. there is no political will among people with power to count & prevent these deaths. labor protections for workers are better under the biden administration than the trump administration, but biden's last proposed budget leaves OSHA with a functional budget cut after inflation, and there is no federal heat safety standard for indoor workers. the best we get is marginal improvement, & workers die. i know you know! but it's too big to hold all the same.

anyway it's a good book, it's wide-ranging & interested in a lot of experiences of work in america, & morris presents an intimate (sometimes painfully so!) portrait of workers who were harmed by goodyear & dupont. would recommend

[dufrau]

what are cemented shoes? like what does it mean for a shoe to be cemented?

Oh man. THANK YOU for asking lol.

This is like, the most basic version of all of this, but:

Cemented means a shoe where the upper and insole are only attached to the outsole via glue. Most sneakers are built like this, and cheaper boots and shoes.

A quality shoe will have a mechanical connection between the top of the bottom, meaning stitching and often also nails or pegs. There is still glue, but the stitch will hold the shoe together if the glue starts to lose its grip, and basically the glue and the stitch reinforce each other because both of them are doing work so neither of them is doing as much work as either would on its own.

The most common construction for boots is Goodyear Welt, where basically a flat strip of leather (or plastic on some cheaper welted shoes) is stitched to the bottom of the insole and then stitched again separately down through the outsole. There's also stitchdown, where instead of tucking the upper underneath the shoe its flanged out kind of like this: Ω and then stitched down through the outsole. And then nicer dressier shoes are usually Blake stitched, where its stitched inside the shoe straight down through the outsole (this is less good for water resistance but it also allows the shoes to be sleeker since theres no welt/stitchdown edge sticking out the sides. A lot of women's shoes are also Blake stitched for this reason.)

Basically cemented shoes are built to fall apart and never be put back together again. That's fine for athletic shoes or like canvas/fabric shoes where the upper is going to be falling apart at about the same rate as the sole, but when you get into shoes made of full grain leather you're going to wind up with the bottoms coming off and insides falling apart but leather uppers that are still in good wearable condition that are now going to be thrown away, just because the shoes themselves cost $50 but it would now cost hundreds to get a cobbler to rebuild them into a proper stitched shoe so its just not worth the money or the effort. So now we're throwing away leather after a year or two that probably could have been wearable for decades on a stitched shoe if properly cared for. It just makes me sad!

[usafphantom2]

My father was picked by a computer in 1964 to become a candidate for a new position, called the reconnaissance systems officer in the new SR-71.

He was picked because of his outstanding bomb record in the B-58. He was the first man interviewed by Doug Nelson at Little Rock Air Force Base home of the 43rd wing of the B-58 because he had walking pneumonia; Colonel Nelson interviewed him first, took him into a small closet, and asked him these questions: would you be willing to fly over Russia or China and are you a volunteer?

The Sheffield family was the first SR 71 family to arrive at Beale Air Force Base March of 1965. My Dad was picked not because he knew someone important. He didn’t know anyone. He came from a small town in Ohio called Rootstown. His father worked at the Goodyear rubber plant in Akron, Ohio. The first group were all like Dad, and they knew what an honor it was to be selected. This was a noble calling. They put the love of their country first in their life. These men were sincere, and their word was so honorable that you knew it was a solemn promise that they would rather die before they revealed it. You could just feel feel the goodness of these men trust honor, faithful, noble, confident, and humility. The tradition of selecting, the very best was continued throughout the whole program.

I would go to basketball and baseball games to watch my Dad and his coworkers play. I was shocked at how aggressive Daddy was. He didn’t act like that at home. They were all aggressive men .

These men knew how to handle social situations expertly. I would go to the officers club with my parents occasionally. Who could turn down a colored TV in the lobby near the bar at the Beale Air Force Base officers club with all the Shirley Temples (7-Up with grenadine ) with cherries on top that I could possibly drink. My friends lived near by they were mostly SR 71 pilots and RSO‘s children. I spent a lot of time eating dinner with them, watching TV , going to the bowling alley, going on picnics, running down the street to Ryan Park. Stopping by the Vicks, the Jarvis’s, the McCallum’s and Payne’s last, but not least I practically lived at Janet Payne’s house.

When I was a teenager, I hung out with Kent and Sherry Collins I would babysat for the younger kids in family. I didn’t know that their father Ken Collins’s was an A-12 pilot turned SR-71 pilot until many years later. I’m sure the postman was confused as an another Collins lived across the street. Charles “Pete” Collins SR-71 Pilot and his wife Shirley and kids Petey, Kim and Kathy they moved back after being away for a year, and now lived across the street from us.

The neighbors and my parents all came around with bottles of liquor. It was getting kind of late and they were getting rather noisy. I thought it would be funny to call the police on them. Just to see what they would do. I had my friend Jeff Anderson, deepen his voice and call the police from my kitchen. The police quickly came. I didn’t know that the phones were bugged. The base police assumed that the call came from my father not from one of his daughter’s friends . Jeff and I and a few other friends that had stopped by were hiding behind the bushes . The police said I heard there was a disturbance up here. As the two young police officers looked at the sidewalk with spilled liquor and bottles everywhere and four couples sitting in the grass !

Ken Collins quickly gets up approach the police car I said “You can move on now we took care of it.” I waited about 25 years before I told my mother that I was the one that instigated the call to the police. I think she was still thinking about putting me on restriction. Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X