- Joined
- Apr 15, 2022
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- 1,183
I am 65 and have spent a lifetime around agrarian pursuits.
From birth to eight years, we lived on a dairy farm in Storrs, Connecticut.
I started throwing the Phoenix Gazette at the age of 10 in Arizona. I kept a menagerie of chickens, ducks, guinea pigs, and rabbits in the back yard, I've worked in the cotton fields, tromped cotton, baled alfalfa, worked alongside the non-English speaking field workers from South of the border in the watermelon and onion fields, was a grocery carry out and worked at a pizza parlor all before graduating high school in Peoria, Arizona.
Learned how to weld in Vocational Agriculture shop. Pounded nails framing houses. Worked at a warehouse in Phoenix, Arizona that handled all of the cigarettes for the entire state. Was a teacher's aide in the Vo Ag department at Peoria High School. Delivered roof trusses around greater Phoenix.
Worked sorting feeder pigs in Ava and Thayer, Missouri and on cattle ranch, from castrating to building fence in Arno, Missouri,
Worked on a 300-cow, total confinement 3X milking a day dairy in Ellington, Connecticut and an 85 head 2X a day dairy in Randolph Center, Vermont. Worked at a sand-molded clay brick manufacturing company in Middletown, Connecticut and a Machine shop in Newington, Connecticut that did machine work for Pratt-Whitney Aircraft and some work for NASA.
Worked at a Rainbow trout fishery, and as a deputy sheriff in Ava, Missouri, I rebuilt hydraulic cylinders, (re-sealed, straightened bent chrome rods, replaced honed tubes and liquid-tight welded, cut threads and machined any part necessary from steel or cast-iron stock in order to fix them.) I've been a portion-controlled meat cutter, construction equipment transporter (backhoe, dozer, track loader) and ran a dump truck in Springfield, Missouri. I was a sign/billboard face installer. I've worked with draglines, wheel loaders, jack hammers and just about any kind of construction and industrial equipment and hand tools you could name. I've delivered class eight trucks all over the lower 48 and overland from Vancouver Island to Nova Scotia, Canada for a company based out of Kenosha, Wisconsin.
I consider myself a cattleman. I judged dairy in FFA, took an AI course and studied embryo transfer. I can get a full breach calf out of a cow, raise it to slaughter, butcher it, cut it up into retail cuts, cook it and serve it to you.
For a hobby I make a marinated hot smoked salmon, lox and a pate'.
I am Scooter Trash, if you don't know what that is, you wouldn't understand.
My personal, "Day of Infamy" anniversary; August 19/2011 21:00 hours CST. It was at that moment I met Seth Hamilton who would forever change my life.
The meeting took place on State Route 14 just east of Ozark, MO at the junction of 14 and State Route W. I was riding Eastbound on 14 headed toward Sparta, MO just after dark; I had two vehicles in front of me. At the junction of 14&W the Eastbound 14 roadway drops just a tad before it meets W. As I crested this little rise, I saw headlights stopped on W. When the two vehicles ahead of me passed Seth Hamilton, he pulled out in front of me. "Oh crap!" thought I, what to do? to the right is a ditch, no go, in front of me is a T-Bone meeting with Mr. Hamilton; not an option. My mind flashed to Chappy and Gene from Connecticut, both had T-boned boneheads that pulled out in front of them; both went airborne; Chappy got up, Gene we buried. My only possible out, in the spit second, I had to decide, was the Westbound Lane of 14, where if my guardian angel was fast enough to clear a path; I could get around Mr. Hamilton and away. We met approximately at the center East/West dividing line. Mr. Hamilton's blue Dodge pickup plowed into yours truly; down I went, and ragdoll decelerated with the bike on my heels from about 45mph to dead stop. I landed in a ditch on the Northside of 14, fully conscious, with my head East, my nose South. I could look the eight feet up to the 14 roadway and see the occasional Westbound vehicle passing by.
My first thought after the initial shock and awe wore off a bit, was to notify 911. I don't know why, but I argued with myself about initiating the call, 911 was only for emergencies, duh, well, the other driver was calling 911, he wasn't as he had driven off leaving yours truly to die; of course, I had no way of knowing that at the time. (I believe that he absconded to his brother's place a Church of Christ Minister who was the chaplain of the Ozark, MO volunteer fire department where together they listened on the scanner while the FD hunted for me.) I finally thought that it doesn't matter how many calls they got, as long as somebody responded, ok, I could accept that.
I was wearing a ratty, old leather coat that I had purchased at the Disabled American Veterans thrift store for five bucks. I believe that is what kept my cell phone, a Motorola Star Tac, in my left breast shirt pocket. My left arm was the only thing I could move as my injuries were: crushed right leg, (over 32 fractures below the knee) which was later amputated above the knee, a shattered right arm, (my radius and ulna are forever fused at the elbow.) a punctured lung and I was bleeding out due to the compound fracture of my right femur, among other things. From impact to hospital, I had bled out nearly half of my blood volume.
I was able to get my fingers under the chin strap and pull off the helmet, fish around in my pocket, retrieve my phone and dial 911. When I made connection with the dispatcher, I couldn't keep my head up any longer due to the discomfort, so I laid the phone on the ground and put my head down on it. It took the first responders nearly an hour to locate me. I told dispatch that I was in the ditch on the Northside of the junction of Highways 14&W. As far as I know they first dispatched Ozark PD who determined that I was out of their jurisdiction and broke off the response. They dispatched Ozark FD to respond, they were driving a vehicle with a diesel engine, I could hear the engine and would report based on the sound, I think they're East of me, I think they're West of me. Finally, they got the idea to roll down 14 in the Westbound Lane with their spotlight on and located me.
I believe that it was a God thing that I am still alive today, if I did not have or had lost my cell, I would be dead. If the battery had run down in the hour it took to find me, I probably would have died, If I had bled out enough to lose consciousness, I would have died, If I had gone into debilitating shock, I would have died.
Because I am now a lifetime cripple and can no longer pursue the things, I love effectively I have vainly attempted to come to agrarian websites as a potential outlet for fellowship and the agricultural and compatible knowledge that I learned over 65 years that I can no longer effectively engage in.
I don't claim to know it all, however, I do know quite a bit, and also desire to share it with any and all that have a like-minded interest.
I have a vast and very eclectic group of side interests and when I find articles that scratch that itch, I post them as a means to be informative regarding world events, agricultural developments, as well as hopefully stimulate conversation.
I may not delve into a doctrinal thesis regarding each of my postings and forgive me for assuming that I consider the members to not be dumb as a bunch of fence posts and be of reasonable intelligence and able to comment on what I post without me holding their hand or framing the conversation by my personal input.
I'm not a grouch, however, I do not suffer fools gladly.
No implication that there are any here.
David
From birth to eight years, we lived on a dairy farm in Storrs, Connecticut.
I started throwing the Phoenix Gazette at the age of 10 in Arizona. I kept a menagerie of chickens, ducks, guinea pigs, and rabbits in the back yard, I've worked in the cotton fields, tromped cotton, baled alfalfa, worked alongside the non-English speaking field workers from South of the border in the watermelon and onion fields, was a grocery carry out and worked at a pizza parlor all before graduating high school in Peoria, Arizona.
Learned how to weld in Vocational Agriculture shop. Pounded nails framing houses. Worked at a warehouse in Phoenix, Arizona that handled all of the cigarettes for the entire state. Was a teacher's aide in the Vo Ag department at Peoria High School. Delivered roof trusses around greater Phoenix.
Worked sorting feeder pigs in Ava and Thayer, Missouri and on cattle ranch, from castrating to building fence in Arno, Missouri,
Worked on a 300-cow, total confinement 3X milking a day dairy in Ellington, Connecticut and an 85 head 2X a day dairy in Randolph Center, Vermont. Worked at a sand-molded clay brick manufacturing company in Middletown, Connecticut and a Machine shop in Newington, Connecticut that did machine work for Pratt-Whitney Aircraft and some work for NASA.
Worked at a Rainbow trout fishery, and as a deputy sheriff in Ava, Missouri, I rebuilt hydraulic cylinders, (re-sealed, straightened bent chrome rods, replaced honed tubes and liquid-tight welded, cut threads and machined any part necessary from steel or cast-iron stock in order to fix them.) I've been a portion-controlled meat cutter, construction equipment transporter (backhoe, dozer, track loader) and ran a dump truck in Springfield, Missouri. I was a sign/billboard face installer. I've worked with draglines, wheel loaders, jack hammers and just about any kind of construction and industrial equipment and hand tools you could name. I've delivered class eight trucks all over the lower 48 and overland from Vancouver Island to Nova Scotia, Canada for a company based out of Kenosha, Wisconsin.
I consider myself a cattleman. I judged dairy in FFA, took an AI course and studied embryo transfer. I can get a full breach calf out of a cow, raise it to slaughter, butcher it, cut it up into retail cuts, cook it and serve it to you.
For a hobby I make a marinated hot smoked salmon, lox and a pate'.
I am Scooter Trash, if you don't know what that is, you wouldn't understand.
My personal, "Day of Infamy" anniversary; August 19/2011 21:00 hours CST. It was at that moment I met Seth Hamilton who would forever change my life.
The meeting took place on State Route 14 just east of Ozark, MO at the junction of 14 and State Route W. I was riding Eastbound on 14 headed toward Sparta, MO just after dark; I had two vehicles in front of me. At the junction of 14&W the Eastbound 14 roadway drops just a tad before it meets W. As I crested this little rise, I saw headlights stopped on W. When the two vehicles ahead of me passed Seth Hamilton, he pulled out in front of me. "Oh crap!" thought I, what to do? to the right is a ditch, no go, in front of me is a T-Bone meeting with Mr. Hamilton; not an option. My mind flashed to Chappy and Gene from Connecticut, both had T-boned boneheads that pulled out in front of them; both went airborne; Chappy got up, Gene we buried. My only possible out, in the spit second, I had to decide, was the Westbound Lane of 14, where if my guardian angel was fast enough to clear a path; I could get around Mr. Hamilton and away. We met approximately at the center East/West dividing line. Mr. Hamilton's blue Dodge pickup plowed into yours truly; down I went, and ragdoll decelerated with the bike on my heels from about 45mph to dead stop. I landed in a ditch on the Northside of 14, fully conscious, with my head East, my nose South. I could look the eight feet up to the 14 roadway and see the occasional Westbound vehicle passing by.
My first thought after the initial shock and awe wore off a bit, was to notify 911. I don't know why, but I argued with myself about initiating the call, 911 was only for emergencies, duh, well, the other driver was calling 911, he wasn't as he had driven off leaving yours truly to die; of course, I had no way of knowing that at the time. (I believe that he absconded to his brother's place a Church of Christ Minister who was the chaplain of the Ozark, MO volunteer fire department where together they listened on the scanner while the FD hunted for me.) I finally thought that it doesn't matter how many calls they got, as long as somebody responded, ok, I could accept that.
I was wearing a ratty, old leather coat that I had purchased at the Disabled American Veterans thrift store for five bucks. I believe that is what kept my cell phone, a Motorola Star Tac, in my left breast shirt pocket. My left arm was the only thing I could move as my injuries were: crushed right leg, (over 32 fractures below the knee) which was later amputated above the knee, a shattered right arm, (my radius and ulna are forever fused at the elbow.) a punctured lung and I was bleeding out due to the compound fracture of my right femur, among other things. From impact to hospital, I had bled out nearly half of my blood volume.
I was able to get my fingers under the chin strap and pull off the helmet, fish around in my pocket, retrieve my phone and dial 911. When I made connection with the dispatcher, I couldn't keep my head up any longer due to the discomfort, so I laid the phone on the ground and put my head down on it. It took the first responders nearly an hour to locate me. I told dispatch that I was in the ditch on the Northside of the junction of Highways 14&W. As far as I know they first dispatched Ozark PD who determined that I was out of their jurisdiction and broke off the response. They dispatched Ozark FD to respond, they were driving a vehicle with a diesel engine, I could hear the engine and would report based on the sound, I think they're East of me, I think they're West of me. Finally, they got the idea to roll down 14 in the Westbound Lane with their spotlight on and located me.
I believe that it was a God thing that I am still alive today, if I did not have or had lost my cell, I would be dead. If the battery had run down in the hour it took to find me, I probably would have died, If I had bled out enough to lose consciousness, I would have died, If I had gone into debilitating shock, I would have died.
Because I am now a lifetime cripple and can no longer pursue the things, I love effectively I have vainly attempted to come to agrarian websites as a potential outlet for fellowship and the agricultural and compatible knowledge that I learned over 65 years that I can no longer effectively engage in.
I don't claim to know it all, however, I do know quite a bit, and also desire to share it with any and all that have a like-minded interest.
I have a vast and very eclectic group of side interests and when I find articles that scratch that itch, I post them as a means to be informative regarding world events, agricultural developments, as well as hopefully stimulate conversation.
I may not delve into a doctrinal thesis regarding each of my postings and forgive me for assuming that I consider the members to not be dumb as a bunch of fence posts and be of reasonable intelligence and able to comment on what I post without me holding their hand or framing the conversation by my personal input.
I'm not a grouch, however, I do not suffer fools gladly.
No implication that there are any here.
David
Last edited:
from West KY.
from Ohio.
