Sunday, October 16, 2011

Don't Try This At Home

One part Smash Up Derby, one part Open House.

Preparations began early for the last open house of the season.  Running the vac, hiding the sweatshirts, laying out the few things we put on sale each time, setting up the renovated Utility room to serve as the gate, these things take time and as a result we missed the big crash.


This was the scene at 12:40 when I finally made it out of the house in an attempt to drop Haley off at the Bates House on Jericho Road where she was going to volunteer today.  An errant driver, (ya think),  had put his car up on the seawall and it became the event of the day.  He was not hurt badly as when he was removed from the car there was not the sense of urgency one might sense if there was a critical injury.  He can be seen here on the right of the frame, his neck immobilized and the EMT's readying to move him to the ambulance.  I was only a few feet away as they rolled him down the sidewalk and would describe him as a 50 plus gentleman who had one of the worst days ever. And wait for the bills to start rolling in.


Black humor emerged along with speculation as to how one could have arrived by car in such a spot.  "Maybe he needs a new GPS."  "Doesn't he know you can't drive to Dublin?"  "Is that the new Ford Escape commercial?"  The truth of the matter is likely to be a lot less funny.  The fence that forms an angle with the handicap parking spot was clipped by the car before it did its Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang act.  This could have been much worse if the usual crew of bicycles and baby carriages had been in the neighborhood.  I don't know enough physics to figure it out, but he had to have been flying.

The story then shifted to how in the world were the authorities going to remove the car from the wall.  Our tours had begun by then so I was cut off from most of the on the spot reporting.  Julie and my sister Lee picked up the slack.

Having decided that the first flat bed truck sent to remove the car would not be adequate, those in charge shifted to the heavy lifters.  Here you can see them rigging the car.




And at last it was up and off the wall. 
Kudos to Julie for working her photojournalistic magic.

The highlight of the tours today was a visit from a couple related to the third light keeper Ebenezer Osbourne.  They brought information that indicates that one of Keeper Osbourne's sons was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his service in the Civil War.  William Henry Osborne was wounded at Mulvern Hill, returned to the battle despite his wounds, and was wounded terribly a second time.  While the couple were here I was able to check the census records for 1840 and saw there that Osbourne had a son of the appropriate age.  It is another example of how each day this building pulls out another remarkable Scituate story or connection.  I thank Ms. McKenna for her contribution.

With luck there will be a heating system in this cottage once again on Tuesday.  The renovation is quite close to its finish and I am eager to get the giant pod out of the driveway. 

I am even more eager to be rid of the Porta Potty. Last weekend, while Julie and I ran out to move the laundry from washer to dryer, an entire wedding party came up the driveway, turned the unit in order to use it, (I had turned it so it was blocked from use,) and rattled Haley with the racket they made. 

I came back and thanked them profusely as they sat in their bus waiting for the bride and groom to head onto the reception.  I thanked them again and again for ignoring the four different signs that mark the property as private, and for having the nerve to move the unit, and mostly for thinking nothing of spooking my kid.  I told them they were a wonderful bunch of guys who probably thought of themselves as brilliant.

It was not the first time I thought that some members of a wedding party were only invited in order to be sure that they weren't going to break into the house of the betrothed.  What happened to being a class act? Three weeks ago a young man walked into the house at 3:30 in the afternoon, in a tuxedo and with a beer in his hand.  I turned him around and muttered down the driveway that there are all kinds of stupid out there. 

I wonder if any of those guys owns a Ford Escape in need of some repair.

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