Here in Houston the time to clean the garage out is either Spring or Fall as that’s the only time when temperatures in the day are reasonably cool. Lucy has an order coming in on palates soon and I wanted to make sure there was enough open floor to accommodate them; hardly ever know what she’s got ordered, just that she got a great price on what ever it is.
I remember when we were in the old house an 18 wheeler loaded with wheat from Montana arrived, the driver scratching his head as if he’d gotten the address wrong. I assured him he had the right place as he off loaded the whole truck onto my driveway; gotta’ wonder what the neighbors were thinking, “Those Mormons and their food storage thing”.
Lucy made a few calls and before ten that night it had all been distributed to the ladies of the church who’d gone in together on the purchase. Things like that must continue to be a source of wonderment to the neighbors, much less the delivery folks. “Where are they putting all this stuff?” I could start a rumor; tell everyone we had a huge bomb shelter dug in the back yard; they’d be tempted to believe it.
Later this month is the San Francisco Herb order, a mixed blessing. On the one hand Lucy will put in lots of hours sorting little bags of this that and the other for the ladies at church to pick up while on the other hand, our house will smell like heaven for all the varied aromas associated with these herbs; cinnamon, rosemary, marjoram and ginger to name a few. The baking season is around the corner and these items will be in high demand.
Unrelated to the odd delivery of items, or should that read the delivery of odd items; oh well, I found my old battered and worn police brief case in one of the shadows. I went through the few remaining items, a few public relations hand out cards we used to give citizens after a report had been made for a burglary, assault, vandalism or what ever; tossed them in the trash along with some old locksmith price sheets I’d hand out to car dealerships and some out of date catalogs which I’d put in there.
In one of the recesses where folders had been kept I spotted a small key ring with only two keys. Upon closer inspection I remembered what they were used for; one an old post type skeleton key and the other an oddly shaped flat key. They were traffic control box keys. My guess is they would fit most of the traffic boxes at intersections to this very day.
We used to get dispatched to work traffic for special events which would require altering the pre-programmed timing of the intersection’s traffic lights. Inside the control box was a “pig tail”, a push button which permitted an officer to manually change the lights in order to give priority to a certain flow of cars, usually to a parking area near the event.
I remember having the McKinney Street exit from the freeway where it intersects with Bagby next to City Hall. The folks on Bagby needed more time to move toward the old Music Hall/Coliseum complex and we would double or even triple the time over those few getting off the freeway.
The closer it came time for the event, the less we were needed as traffic dwindled down to nearly nothing. My partner and I were standing with the pig tail in hand as we observed a single vehicle slowing down as the driver made his way though the freeway exit ramp curve into downtown. There was no cross traffic on Bagby so I ran a quick light cycle; except I ran past the point I’d wanted by one click. In a matter of moments the driver had seen his light turn green to yellow and back to red; his vehicle doing something akin to a touch and go on an air craft carrier, the brakes being applied, released and then applied in rapid succession.
Just as quickly, I ran another light sequence and got him the green light he thought he’d seen only moments before. We laughed and waved at him as he carefully anticipated yet another malfunction, crossing Bagby Street and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I should find a young police officer, one recently graduated from the academy and give these pieces of history to someone who might get to use them. I think I know just the person, come to think of it.
I remember when we were in the old house an 18 wheeler loaded with wheat from Montana arrived, the driver scratching his head as if he’d gotten the address wrong. I assured him he had the right place as he off loaded the whole truck onto my driveway; gotta’ wonder what the neighbors were thinking, “Those Mormons and their food storage thing”.
Lucy made a few calls and before ten that night it had all been distributed to the ladies of the church who’d gone in together on the purchase. Things like that must continue to be a source of wonderment to the neighbors, much less the delivery folks. “Where are they putting all this stuff?” I could start a rumor; tell everyone we had a huge bomb shelter dug in the back yard; they’d be tempted to believe it.
Later this month is the San Francisco Herb order, a mixed blessing. On the one hand Lucy will put in lots of hours sorting little bags of this that and the other for the ladies at church to pick up while on the other hand, our house will smell like heaven for all the varied aromas associated with these herbs; cinnamon, rosemary, marjoram and ginger to name a few. The baking season is around the corner and these items will be in high demand.
Unrelated to the odd delivery of items, or should that read the delivery of odd items; oh well, I found my old battered and worn police brief case in one of the shadows. I went through the few remaining items, a few public relations hand out cards we used to give citizens after a report had been made for a burglary, assault, vandalism or what ever; tossed them in the trash along with some old locksmith price sheets I’d hand out to car dealerships and some out of date catalogs which I’d put in there.
In one of the recesses where folders had been kept I spotted a small key ring with only two keys. Upon closer inspection I remembered what they were used for; one an old post type skeleton key and the other an oddly shaped flat key. They were traffic control box keys. My guess is they would fit most of the traffic boxes at intersections to this very day.
We used to get dispatched to work traffic for special events which would require altering the pre-programmed timing of the intersection’s traffic lights. Inside the control box was a “pig tail”, a push button which permitted an officer to manually change the lights in order to give priority to a certain flow of cars, usually to a parking area near the event.
I remember having the McKinney Street exit from the freeway where it intersects with Bagby next to City Hall. The folks on Bagby needed more time to move toward the old Music Hall/Coliseum complex and we would double or even triple the time over those few getting off the freeway.
The closer it came time for the event, the less we were needed as traffic dwindled down to nearly nothing. My partner and I were standing with the pig tail in hand as we observed a single vehicle slowing down as the driver made his way though the freeway exit ramp curve into downtown. There was no cross traffic on Bagby so I ran a quick light cycle; except I ran past the point I’d wanted by one click. In a matter of moments the driver had seen his light turn green to yellow and back to red; his vehicle doing something akin to a touch and go on an air craft carrier, the brakes being applied, released and then applied in rapid succession.
Just as quickly, I ran another light sequence and got him the green light he thought he’d seen only moments before. We laughed and waved at him as he carefully anticipated yet another malfunction, crossing Bagby Street and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I should find a young police officer, one recently graduated from the academy and give these pieces of history to someone who might get to use them. I think I know just the person, come to think of it.
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