I needed a crane, bad. I spread the word to everyone I knew. I also needed one I could afford…I’m playing cards, a rare thing for me since I always lose. Towards the end of the evening, I have a pretty good hand. It’s just me and Dave Woods, owner of Diversified Drilling. This was before I found out it was tough to find someone in town who didn’t want him dead vs alive. He’s out of dough. He mentions that he’ll bet a crane he has to cover his bet. I light up like a Christmas tree at this bit of news. I win the hand! Only later did I figure out he lost on purpose…I go out to the big equipment yard it’s being stored at the next day to find my new treasure. The yard man looks at me like I had five days of crap in my pants when I inform him I’m there for the Woods crane. I start to show him my note from Woods. He ignores it. Informs me he would pay me to take it away…Along with me was a pal, David Philips. He could actually fix things on motors. Not me. Now, here’s a quick synopsis on a F.W.D. Made by a fire truck company, it was from a long line of hard ass, get it done trucks. The model I had happened to be THE WORST model ever made. Plus, it was there only COE model. This means, ‘Cab Over Engine’. So, to check the oil, or do anything else, you had to pull these giant levers under the drivers seat to pop locks to tilt the ENTIRE CAB forward. Brand new, the safety rod sucked ass. Since it was built in 1959, and, had at least 200 guys slamming the cab back down incorrectly, well, it could be a giant guillitine if your head is underneath and the rod gave out suddenly, slamming that entire cab onto your noggin. I always shoved a piece of 4×4 into the rod end for a ‘Just in Case’. Phillips puts in a fresh battery, a coil, hydraulic fluid, and some fresh gas. We drop the cab back down. It’s my baby, so, I have to drive it. Here’s the low down on it: Seven ton, 6×6 with a MONSTER 630 V-8 engine. It got FOUR miles to the gallon, downhill. Sixteen foot diamond plate bed. Crane boomed out to forty foot. Two hydraulic stantions for supports. 10,000 pound winch under the ball on the boom. Auger to drill holes for poles. Under some faded paint on the door, found an old EDISON sticker. Hmm. An old line truck, cool! On the other door, a faded, ‘BOSTON HENRY’. Wow! I worked for old man Henry in Aqua Dulce in Junior high as a tool monkey. It got better and better! I hit the key. It starts! Now, sitting in the cab, your higher then in the fuselage of a B-17 bomber. Maybe twelve foot high. All the gauges had been knocked out twenty years ago. The entire cab is full of rat turds. No seat cover. Some old coveralls laying on exposed springs made do. Levers and shift rods, all over the place. I haven’t a clue to what does what. After a lot of grinding of gears and stalling it out ten times, I’m rolling forward! Not wanting to stop now, I head into the six foot tall weeds covering a slight hill in front of me. Anything in the way? Who gives a shit in this baby, I’m coming through. With Phillips egging me on running along side, I hit a ditch. WHAM! Truck stalled and the ENTIRE CAB shoots forward. I’m suddenly looking at fresh sunflowers and weeds right in front of me smashed into the glass. Fifty years worth of rat turds pour down the back of my shirt as Black Widows break dance all over the truck trying to get away. Finally, we leave the yard. The yard man locks the gate as soon as I clear it. Phillips follows for awhile, then yells that he’ll pick up following me past the Pepper Tree market; he needs a brew. I wave him ahead. I figure out the gears as I go. Stop signs? Fuck that, I look then roll through ’em. Not much traffic anyhow. Coming past Vasquez rocks, I make a hard turn. The steering wheel is six foot around. And, no power steering. I cave man it like a captain on an old river boat. I then hear an odd noise. Looking into my right, totally shattered rear view mirror, I can see mailboxes flying all over the road behind me. One of my stantion legs had failed and was sticking straight out. I had just clothes lined forty mailboxes…to be continued…
