Spider, spider

I should probably remove this fuzzy friend from this spot, but she sure is doing a good job of pest control here. Her small male friend was here for a few days, don't know where he went. He was about an eighth of her size.

Antiques & More

You may remember the picture I posted of Anthony's downtown shop. Seems he inspired more than the lady he sold his business to. We now have a fresh new block with all the new stores that have opened up. JMC Interiors & Consignment, Magnolias and Mudpies, Mississippi Gold

Journal: Breaking & Entering

I broke in on two children today, scared them silly. They were so scared they were speechless. Ah, my stupid job. Guest overdue for checkout so I was asked to use the security key card that overrides the deadbolt. Occasionally, the deadbolt can become stuck if it hasn't been fully retracted, but the main reason for a deadbolted door is a fallen guest. Standard procedure has it that if a guest is due to depart on a given day, and, after a reasonable time, they haven't notified the front desk of their intention to stay, we go in and make sure they are okay. People do become ill, collapse, or even die on overnight stays.
After the desk had called up to the room, housekeeping had knocked on the door several times with no response, they called me. Emergency key in hand, I asked the HK supervisor to meet me up there. Knocking, announcing Maintenance! Housekeeping!.....no response. E-kay in door and a turn of the handle and the deadbolt gives up. Pushing on the door and calling out, the door only opens a few inches because the security bar (like the old timey chains) is also thrown. Someone is definitely in the room and unable to answer. Housekeeping stays while I go back down to get the bar throwing tool, back up and wrestle unsuccessfully to jimmy the safety bar. Front desk manager comes up and gives it a go while I go back to the shop and return with a tool to pry the latch off the door jamb through the two inch opening.  It takes about twenty minutes of noisy conversation, prying, and hammering in all. It doesn't take but a minute more and I am the first one in the room, with HK, front desk/accountant manager, and the sales manager behind me.
There are two girls in the room sitting on the bed, one small girl about 6 or 7, and another that looks around 14. They are staring wide eyed with the oldest girl holding a cell phone to her ear talking to no one. We are jaw dropping dumbfounded. I ask the girls if they are okay.....nothing... I ask the girls if they are sick, do you need a doctor....nothing..... The larger girl is staring blankly ahead with the cell to her ear.....silence. We are getting nowhere with these children. After I see they apparently want no assistance, I turn to leave and tell the rest they are alright, they do not need me. Pam, the housekeeper says, somethings wrong, referring to the older girls blank stare, look at her eyes! You're the medic! I turn back and approach the two girls and repeat my questions, I walk in close and the big girls eyes follow me and I see tears welling up. These girls are scared to death, I don't think I've ever seen anyone frozen in total silence and movement. I see she isn't blind, I see she recognizes I'm there (no diabetic state here) , and I really can't get a response. I tell them they need to talk to us, if they are not ill and don't need a doctor, we are going to be calling the police in a few minutes. Finally! The little girl looks up at the older one and says; "Our Mama told us not to answer the door" Her voice is shaking but she has found the nerve to speak. Before this, I really couldn't tell whether  they understood english or not, as they could possibly have been Jamaican or any other nationality. I asked if she also told them not to answer the phone and repeated my query as to whether or not they needed help. The little girl continues and explains that their mama is at the convention center, she gives Patti her mothers name, and is put to the twenty question test. The older girl still sits silently. I excuse myself from the room and tell Patti she can handle this, they don't need me. They go off to the convention center where they are holding a Workforce convention, it is well after checkout time.
A bit later I am outside and see the mother, I presume, running up the back ramp towards the hotel. I see she stops at the desk and I wait for an opportunity to apologize to her, and ask her to tell the girls I'm sorry.
I am not pleased with the way we have handled this. I go to lunch and get interrupted over the walkies, the desk manager wants to know what to charge for the repairs. I tell her over the radio "No charge for the door repairs". Not good enough, I suppose, she wants me to call her on the phone. I don't. I tell her I am at lunch, and can it wait. "No, it can't", she says. The sales manager comes to the restaurant and asks me the same thing. I repeat myself... "No charge for the door!".
The regular housekeeper for this floor tells that they did the same thing the day before, no service, no answer, do not disturb sign, and just laid the dirty towels outside on the floor. I learn also that the 14 year old is only 11, just big for her age. That is exactly what I told them before I heard it for sure.
I am positive I will hear more of this on Monday when the General Manager comes in. It doesn't matter, I will hold my ground. We seriously need to re-evaluate our protocol.

Journal: Of Bikes & Boys

Coming home from the truck races today, Saturday, in which Darrell was a participant, I witnessed a motorcycle and a truck coming around a curve toward me in the opposite direction I was traveling. All I really see briefly is the front of the motorcycles headlight and handlebars in the far right of the lane and the truck which seemed very close to it before I only saw the truck. A brief glimpse, of what, I couldn't be sure, going off to the right before there was nothing but the truck as it continued on past me and down the road. I saw something, a piece of metal, I believe, flying through the air and into the field and thought maybe they just through something out the window, but as I continued on, I saw the motorcycle, and it's rider, down the steep side of the roadway against a multi-branched tree. I had just witnessed a wreck. I turned around as quickly as I could, the passing truck seemed not to be stopping, as they had traveled a good distance down the highway. I then saw them braking, and then backing up, as a young man ran back to the accident(?). I cannot say for sure that this truck squeezed the rider off the road, or had not made contact with the motorcycle just a few moments before. The young man stopped about 15 feet from the rider as I also ran up. It did not look good as the rider had no movement at all. Without any apparent deep concern, he said, call an ambulance, which I was doing as I did a quick visual assessment of the riders condition. (Face down, no movement, eyes open, blood pooling from the sinuses, no apparent breathing, and one leg crossed over the other back knee).
Okay, by now the 911 dispatcher has enough information that I can hang up.
ie: Motorcycle ran off the road, single rider, not conscious, and with a little help from the young man, a location; Just past L&R store, between Harrisonburg and Sandy Lake. It's been a while, but it's rather hard to forget the basics; Airway, Breathing, Circulation.
I found no pulse on the carotid, but did find a rapid heartbeat by palpitation. Large swelling on the right side of the head and so much blood pouring from his nose and mouth, my next concern was that he could drown or choke in his own fluids. While supporting his head, I asked for help to roll the guy off his face and into a sideways position to facilitate any breathing that he might be doing. He gasped several times for air, and I at least knew, after more than a few, that this was breathing, and not death rasps. This young man had little hopes of survival, but as his blood ran though my fingers, he would not die from me standing idle. He does have a name. It will be a miracle if he is still alive tonight, but as I continued to cradle his head in my hand and used the other to check for neck, spinal, and other life threatening or major injuries, I asked for a blanket as he was beginning to get cold due to shock. I called his name, told him to hang in, told him help was coming. By this time there are many more vehicles, bystanders, and deputies, and of all places they want cleared for the ambulance a few minutes away is my truck, which is completely off the shoulder in the grass at a precarious lean. I told the deputy the Dakota was mine, and when someone asked do I mind if they move it, I told him I don't think you can, you have to turn on the key switch and then start it with the wires. They seemed confused, so another fellow offered to take my place while I moved the truck. A few brief instructions later, and I went to move the truck. Knowing it would spin on the steep ditch, I could only go backwards as far as the next vehicle behind me. Back to the rider, I took up position on the opposite side as the ambulance pulled up and discharged it's passengers. A lady, Paramedic maybe, I didn't notice the patch, approached us and did the same thing I did. Stopped, quick visual assessment, and turned back toward the ambulance barking orders. C-collar, gauze did she say?, backboard. Deputies were helping with the stretcher. When she came back I helped her get the c-collar on which wasn't positioned correctly under the chin (from my vantage) after sliding the neck brace around, she cinched it up tightly and asked for the back board.
Unable to get the backboard completely behind him because of the way he had landed with his legs through the tree trunks, we had to place it behind him and instead pull him up into position and then roll him with the board on his back. I never like this part of laying people on their back when they are bleeding from the nose and mouth so badly, but this is her call, her job. I managed to get the two lower straps secured and then crossed his arms to his torso, wishing they were under the straps, but there were enough helping hands to take the backboard and prevent his arms from flailing off the sides as they carried him up the hill to the stretcher. The gentlemen said he didn't have a pulse, but the Paramedic said "Yes, he  has a pulse." I agreed, I say, "He still has a small pulse" as he was still taking short and long between gasps.
Within a few minutes, the ambulance was leaving, the gentleman that took my spot while I moved the truck, shook my hand and told me thank you for your help. For why, I don't know. He says we need to wash up. but there is no way to do so, the only bottled water is just gone with the ambulance. I am relieved, so I will go, I notice the long two wheeled sideways slide marks as the rider appeared to do everything right; Braking, laying the bike down, and riding with it letting the bike take the bumps. This was no inexperienced rider. If not for the multi-branched tree which propelled him up and sideways against it's branches as the bike slammed into it, this young man might have walked away with no more than a few scrapes and bruises. As it is, I have little thought that he survived. As I told someone there who was calling his name and asking can he hear them, "He hit his head pretty hard, he's not going to hear us". The young lady in the truck has explained several times that they waved at the rider, Casey, in front of the store, and that he was behind them and then they saw him in the rearview mirror, he just went off the side of the road.
As it turns out, I find out that this is a rider that I meet on the highway everyday as I go to work, usually as he passes me up and turns into a local dealership where he worked..., it's a small world.

Addendum: 7-11-10  This article was written September 26th, 2009, the day of the accident. I was not going to post this article until a year had passed, however, I have decided differently.
This young man apparently was not the same young man employed at the shop behind the local dealership, as I have seen this rider a few times since. The young man on the motorcycle did not survive. A lady who identified herself as the mother called me several days after I gave the State Trooper my statement and asked me if they had ran her son off the road, as there was bad blood between them (the trucks occupants and the bike rider). I told her that the investigators would work through all of that, to wait and let them do their job. I really did not wish to get tied up in some contentious litigation between these families. The image here is a snapshot I took as I was passing back by the site, I do not know the relationship of these bystanders. I also had a bit of trouble with my truck after being parked on the steep ditch and it did not want to pull away or shift gears. There are other odd happenings and feelings I could relate here that could be attributed to my conscience and coincidence, but it only clouds the facts.
The statement I gave the Trooper was less than perfect, and may have seemed somewhat evasive, as my original intent was to give an anonymous tip that he could corroborate with the evidence, and most hopefully, other witness statements from the store. I do not know how this turned out, as I have had no further contact. I suspect that there was not enough evidence to prove conclusively that these people deliberately caused this young mans death, however, there is no doubt in my mind what I saw. These people were complicit in this tragedy, and had they not forced this rider from the road, he would not have become just another sad motorcycle statistic, not on this day, anyway.