Category: random

We followed the dark red Volvo, with the two large dogs in the back, up to the entrance of the California Agriculture Station at the Nevada state line on 395. We stopped as the officer and driver of the Volvo spoke.

He then waved them through and it was our turn.

From an early age I had always heard people refer to the Ag Station in a more colorful term: Bug Station. I have since deduced this change in nomenclature has to do with the fact the officers are on the look out for rotted fruits and vegetables that often harbor insects.

He asked, “Where are you headed?”

“To Bodie, for the day,” I answered.

“Have a good day,” he responded as he waved us through.

As I stepped on the gas pedal, I replied, “Will do and thanks.”

Jus’ as I passed through the other side of the building I saw something fall from the roof and land on the hood of my truck. As I slowed to get a better look at that something, I realized it was a large tan-color Praying Mantis.

Obviously the mantis was making good his escape.

It was a couple of hours into my overnight shift when I decided check on vehicles in the parking lot. As I stepped out the door, I saw two teenage boys trying to get into the RV which is our mobile broadcast station.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled.

One of the kids decided to run away. The other stood there, jus’ looking at me.

Honestly, I couldn’t tell if he was simply too surprised to move or if he was sizing me up. It soon became apparent he was preparing to challenge me.

He lifted the front of his shirt to show he had what looked to be a semi-automatic pistol tucked in his waistband. His friend grew brave again and returned to his pal’s side.

It was obvious he didn’t have the moxie to draw down on me – if he had, he would have done it already. I started seeing red!

Being about ten-feet away from the two – I decided to return the challenge. Besides, in my right hand I had my trusty K-Bar knife, still sheathed, but available if needed.

Years ago I cut the belt holder and snap from the top of the sheath as I tend never to wear it on my belt anymore – carry it in my left hand. It also makes it easier to draw the knife from the sheath when needed.

As we stood there, facing-off, the kid with the pistol turned and spoke to his friend and the two laughed. That’s when I let gun-boy have it with my knife.

Now I’ve never been very good at sticking my knife in an object by throwing it. So it’s very rare that I’ll try heaving it at anything – until that moment.

Like normal, the butt-end of the knife hit first, bouncing off gun-boy’s left temple and he fell to the pavement. I heard the pistol tumble from his pants as he sprawled on the ground.

His buddy bolted again – racing away into the dark. I was also running – following my knife to its target.

Before the teen could figure out what happened, I had both his pistol and my K-Bar in hand. I can’t recall seeing anyone disappear that quickly as I saw him get up and vamoose across the parking lot.

As returned to the station doorway, I realized the weapon was nothing more than a metal toy. Furthermore, it dawned on me I had forgotten to remove the sheath from my knife before I chucked it at the kid’s head.

Oopsie!

As a radio-news broadcaster, having a good set of headphones is important to the job. That’s why I decided to buy myself a new pair as my older ones were nearly finished.

However, for the second time in less than a year, I have lost a set of pricey headphones to the dogs. I say dogs, because I cannot be certain it was Roxy alone this time as I came home to see three of the four playing tug-of-war with their remainder of the set.

Without thinking about it, I left them setting on the arm of my chair and in reach of a snooping, wet nose. I’m considering this as much my fault as theirs in this case.

The bad thing is — I never even got to use them.

It’s like a kick in the gut when I hear news someone I loved as a human and as a friend has passed away. This morning I learned my ageless friend, Shelly Sheppard has died.

Shelly and I go back to 1990, when we first met over a hot mic at KROW Country 780. We were co-hosts of a Sunday night radio program specializing in real old-fashioned cowboy music and poetry.

She was into performing — acting with the Reno Little Theater, the American Shakespeare Theatre in Connecticut, and doing musicals in Las Vegas.  Shelly also performed folk music and was an announcer at Harrah’s.

Shelly was 13-years my senior — but we made a real connection with one another.

One of the things Shelly and I would do on this six-hour program was tell homey-stories about our childhoods. We had the crazy idea that this made some pretty good radio and the number of calls told us we may have been right at the time.

The day I was let go from KROW, she was very upset and we ended up sitting in the station’s parking lot at Grove and Wrondel, talking about it. She wanted to quit and I refused to let her — after all this is sometimes what happens in radio.

Eventually, Shelly left KROW and landed a job at KRNO a few blocks over in Reno-town and on the FM dial, rather than the AM dial. At KRNO she hosted a weekend call-in show involving love songs, which was a popular venue.

Those we’re some great times in my life — but this morning however, with the news of Shelly’s death — I feel as if I’m simply marking time and awaiting my turn.

Frankly, I never got into J.R.R. Tolkien’s work – to meaty for my primitive mind — I prefer Louis L’amour and such. But my best friend in the Air Force found his work fascinating.

In fact Dave Barber was so enthralled with “Lord of the Rings,” that he set himself down and eventually learned to write in the Elvish language Tolkien had developed but never set to form. I was and remain extremely impressed with Dave’s tenacity.

All this came to mind when he posted a cartoon that read, “It turns out Rosetta Stone doesn’t have Klingon.” I couldn’t help responding with, “They don’t have Elvish either.”

As it happened, I had jus’ pulled out an old letter Dave had written me after I was booted from the service. On the back of the envelope was an inscription that I recognized as letter-forms he had been working on before I left the base.

What they mean or if they were even meant for me or perhaps a girlfriend has always been a question in my mind. And after so long, Dave has no answers to this either.

I think it would be nice if Rosetta Stone did have Elvish language lessons — but then were not in Middle Earth, are we?

Spanish Springs 2011 — A soldier with ties to Northern Nevada has been killed in action.  U.S. Army Spc. Garrett Fant died September 26 in Afghanistan.

He attended high school in South Lake Tahoe where his mother still lives.  Fant intended to return to the area to teach at the high school.

He died due to injuries sustained from an improvised explosive device while on patrol in southern Afghanistan’s Kandahar Province.  Fant was on his first deployment with the 4th Squadron, 4th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Heavy Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Division.

He was assigned to Fort Riley, Kansas. Fant enlisted in March 2009 where he earned the Combat Infantryman’s Badge, NATO Medal, Afghanistan Campaign Medal with one Campaign Star, and the Army Service Ribbon during his time in service.

He’s survived by his parents; a brother, who is serving in the Marines and is currently stationed in San Diego; and a sister and will be buried at Happy Homestead Cemetery in South Lake Tahoe. A memorial for is being planned but the details are still in the works.

All I did was go into the station’s kitchen for some coffee. What I saw stopped me in my tracks and sent cold, sweaty chills racing through my body.

After backing out of the doorway, I quickly made my way to the other side of the building to find my co-worker, Boogie. I wanted him to see what I’d found and to make sure he wasn’t playing some sort of joke.

He followed me to the kitchen. His reaction was pretty much the same as mine — instant chills and goosebumps.

Boogie then went to find his supervisor, whom I didn’t know was in the building. He had him go look in the kitchen.

“Ah, this is bulls*t,” we heard him exclaim.

Even though he saw it with his own two eyes, he thinks we’re nuts. What he seen was every drawer and cupboard standing wide-open in the kitchen.

So if he didn’t do it, Boogie didn’t do it and I didn’t do it and we didn’t have an earthquake — who did?

Not much is left to be found of the many white establishments built during these times of growth and tumult. In fact any remnants of Fort Ter-Waw washed away with a minor flood that ravaged the banks of the Klamath River in 1969.

I have often wished I could have seen what was left of the old fort before it disappeared.

By 1855, relations between settlers and the Tolowa had deteriorated, and there was a second battle at the village of Yontucket. The village of Howonquet was also sacked and burned, and 70 Tolowa were killed.

Later the same year, white miners and settlers in the Weitchpec area demanded the Indians hand over their firearms. This instigated the Red Cap Indian War.

Its believed the Red Caps were a mixed-group of Native American “vigilantes,” who went to war against settlers and miners. The war nearly brought on the collapse of the Indian settlement plan designed by the government.

The whites made the first move by burning Indian villages and raping the women. When the Indians fought back, military assistance was requested from Fort Humboldt.

This led to the establishment of the Klamath River Indian Reservation November 16, 1855. The Wau-Kell Agency Post was established to oversee the reservation.

Soon after the Army outpost of Fort Ter-Waw was established at what is now the Klamath Glen. It was located six miles from the mouth of the Klamath River.

Over the next two years, more than 600 Indians from the Southern Oregon coast and the Smith River area were rounded up and moved to the reservations.  However, many escaped and returned to their homeland.

Between 200 and 500 Tolowa were sent to the Klamath River Indian Reservation in August 1857. In 1860 following the Chetco-Rogue River Indian War, more Tolowa were sent to other reservations outside the area.

Then in the winter of 1861-62 heavy rains flooded the Klamath River and washed away the Wau-Kell Agency and most of the buildings at Fort Ter-Waw. Both the agency and the fort were abandoned soon afterwards

During May of 1862, the Smith River Reservation was created by presidential executive order and between 400 and 500 Tolowa were returned to the reservation.  Yuroks, Matolles and Wylackies were also relocated to the Smith River Reservation.

Camp Lincoln was established in September of the same year to oversee the reservation operations. Less than six years later it was closed and the Indians were removed to the Hoopa Valley and Round Valley reservations.

Meanwhile the Klamath River Indian Reservation was still in operation and the Yuroks were allowed to return to their old homes. Here they found for the time being peace and security — at least for a little while.

One of my favorite places to visit anytime we went on a track-meet in the Bay area was “Ripley’s Believe It or Not! Museum,” on Fisherman’s Wharf. When I first picked this up after having filed in a scrap-book for so many years — I wondered why in the world I kept it.

After looking at it a little closer — nearly needing a magnifying glass these days — I discovered the silly little mention of  “J.Darby of England — Jumped backwards 12 ft. 11 in. (with weights.) ”  Obviously because the guys name was Darby, I felt it necessary to hold onto the paper.

It seems northern Nevada cannot catch an even break this month. First a shooting in Carson City that left five dead and seven injured, followed by a plane crash at the Reno Air Race, which killed eleven and injured 69 people and now another shooting.

Authorities are investigating after a shooting inside a Sparks casino led to an evacuation and lockdown early Saturday.  Sparks Police say a group of members from the Hell’s Angels and Vagos motorcycle clubs got into a fight inside near the Trader Dick’s bar where several shots were fired.

When officers arrived, they found three people with gunshot wounds who were transported to the hospital. One person died while the other two are being treated for their non-life threatening injuries.  

Detectives say the man killed in the gun battle was the president of the San Jose chapter of the Hells Angels Jeffrey Pettigrew. The two who were wounded are Vagos members Leonard Ramirez and Diego Garcia and are in stable condition.

But it was another shooting in the city Saturday morning that was the final straw. Authorities say in the second attack, a drive-by shooting by a pair of men in a black SUV on a lone biker, may or may not be connected to the casino gunfight.

The lone biker is listed in stable condition, while the pair made good their escape.

And true to his nature, Mayor Geno Martini decided to cancel Sparks’ share of a big biker festival the rest of the weekend.  He also declared a formal state of emergency in the city saying will help speed state assistance if there’s any more trouble.

Once again the many have to pay for the wrongs committed by the few.

And while vendors close-up their booths and put away their tents and goods in Sparks, Street Vibrations continues to rumble on through Reno. Authorities in the Biggest Little City have added extra patrols to the festivities in order to maintain public safety.

They say trouble come’s in threes. I hope whoever “they” is — they’re correct.