My Dad wrote this true story. It was just like a lot of the complicated mess dreams he had. My father was a great man whom I loved very much. This essay shows just how smart he was and I wish this to be a tribute to my father. The greatest man I ever knew. 
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WHEN MURPHY'S LAW REIGNED SUPREME ON VALENTINE'S DAY
(a true story)
Actually, there were a few signs pointing to what was about to happen on Valentine's Day, on the previous day, February 14th. First, I suffered a flat tire--my left rear snow tire. However, I survived this with few ill effects--the spare was up so I was soon back on wheels. I dropped the flat tire off at the local gas station for repairs.
Tuesday morning, Valentine's Day, started out fine, a clear cold sunny day. My car started OK and I went over to the store for some milk and the morning paper. The papers had not arrived so I had to do some extra driving around to find one. I was successful--so far so good. When I went to pick up my repaired tire, I could not find the check. The employee on duty did not want to release the tire without the check. It took quite a bit of talking and signing of receipts before I could get my tire back; however I finally did and was on my way.
My plan for this day was to drive up to our farm about 175 miles to the north. The main purpose of my trip was to continue digging out from the Blizzard of '78 and to deliver an old car that I had fixed up for one of my daughters who was in dire need of transportation. The trip was uneventful and I arrived safely at the farm about 2:00 PM.
The first thing I did after unpacking was to make sure that the old car on which I had spent so much money was still in good running order. It would not start, it would not turn over, it did nothing. After several hours work, with the help of a neighbor, we determined it was a poor battery connection and we finally got the old car running and proceeded to the next job which was to try and get my tractor and snow plow out of the barn so we could start to dig out. We found an immense drift up against the door to the tractor storage area. It took a lot of digging just to get the door open, at which point we realized it was too late in the day to start digging the main drift so we returned to my car so I could drive my neighbor home.
It was now that the roof fell in--I had lost my keys, all of my keys. At first I refused to accept what had happened. It was just too horrible to contemplate. We had been wandering all over the farm trying to pick the best route for the tractor--there were two feet of snow on the ground and drifts up to six feet which we had crawled over. I kept going through my pockets but all I found was the hole. We looked till the light started to fail but, of course, no luck--this was not to be a period of good luck--quite the contrary: Murphy's Law now came into full effect.
I had to get my friend home for diner so I got my snowmobile out and, surprisingly, it started and I was able to deliver my friend safely home. I then returned just in time to see my recently repaired snow tire again go flat. There was no way to do anything about it as I could not get into the trunk where my spare tire and tools rested. This last blow sent me into the farm house sobbing loudly as I went. Once inside, I prepared myself a mixture of gin and Vermouth [Dad's beloved Manhattan!] and called my wife back at our home base. Thank goodness she was kind and understanding; I don't think I could have taken recriminations for my stupidity in carrying my keys while plowing and crawling through the snow drifts. She also found one of the little tags with a key number which we believed to be the ignition key that I so badly needed--this key would also open the trunk as it closed with an electric lock and opened when a button was pushed and, of course, the ignition was on. I called the auto dealer and gave him the number so I could pick up the key in the morning.
I was feeling a little better now as I thought my troubles were beginning to lift. I had located another key to the farm house and was not worried about transportation as my son-in-law and I had a jointly owned Jeep pick-up which I could use. He and his family were in Mexico on vacation but had told me, prior to leaving, where the pick-up was stored. My plan was to jump on my snowmobile in the morning, ride to my daughter's house, borrow her car, drive with my friend to a town, 20 miles away, and get the pick-up and the key to my car.
The next morning I was up bright and early, anxious to solve all my problems in a very short time and to get back to normal. I made sure I had everything I needed and walked out the front door, locking it carefully behind me as I would be gone for some time. My snowmobile started up just fine and I took off. I never got out of the yard. I mired it in a large snow drift and found it impossible to move. Well, I had better return to the house and make some phone calls.
My new house key would not work; I had locked myself out. There was nothing to do but start walking. On arriving at my neighbor's house about a mile down the road, I learned that he would be unable to go with me to get the Jeep, but that he could drive me to my daughter's house to get her car. This car was available only part time as the house sitter also had to make use of the car, but I was not worried as I could always use the Jeep or even the old car I had fixed up except that it was blocked in the driveway by my car. However, I figured that, if necessary, we could push it out of the way and get the old car out.
I drove to the dealer and picked up the key--it looked beautiful I then drove to where the jeep pick-up was stored but did not see it. I asked the garage owner and he said someone had picked it up a couple of days before. He knew the man but couldn't think of his name. However, he lived out near my farm. He thought his first name was Bob and his wife was Irene. I returned to to my farm.
The key was not the right one. I decided I would have to push my car out of the way and get the old car out where I could use it. I decided to try once more to make the key work. I tried it in the door and locked the door to see if the key would open it. The key would not work so I closed the door. I had now locked myself out of the car so there was no way of moving it.
At this point, not knowing what else to do I decided to do something about the flat tire. I used the jack from my temporarily borrowed car and was able to remove the wheel and flat tire. I took them to the local gas station for repair. Not even this came easy. After fixing four leaks and still finding more, we decided the only way to repair it would be to use a tube in it. The poor guy doing the job ruined the first tube so had to use a second. Boy, was he glad to get me out of there. I returned and put the wheel back on but was still without transportation and it was time to return my borrowed car.
I called my wife again and asked her to mail her key to me as I could see no other way. At this point I feel that Murphy began to let up a little. I drove down to my neighbor's house and asked him to follow me as I returned the borrowed car. He did so and was going to drive me home. I had found another key to my farm house at my daughter's, so I would be able to get back in. On the way back, my friend thought of one more person who might have picked up the Jeep. We drove to his place and there it was. I explained my need for the Jeep and drove it home. My friend followed me and helped me get the snowmobile unstuck and back in the shed where I park it.
So now, this 15th day of February 1978, I write these notes to remember my misfortunes as I relax with the comfortable feeling that: I now have transportation; my car key should be on the way; my equipment is all back where it belongs; the rest of my keys are replaceable; and I apparently have survived the most frustrating two days of my life. Tomorrow I will try to locate a metal detector and try once more to locate my keys.
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See ya later Dad... BOG
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WHEN MURPHY'S LAW REIGNED SUPREME ON VALENTINE'S DAY
(a true story)
Actually, there were a few signs pointing to what was about to happen on Valentine's Day, on the previous day, February 14th. First, I suffered a flat tire--my left rear snow tire. However, I survived this with few ill effects--the spare was up so I was soon back on wheels. I dropped the flat tire off at the local gas station for repairs.
Tuesday morning, Valentine's Day, started out fine, a clear cold sunny day. My car started OK and I went over to the store for some milk and the morning paper. The papers had not arrived so I had to do some extra driving around to find one. I was successful--so far so good. When I went to pick up my repaired tire, I could not find the check. The employee on duty did not want to release the tire without the check. It took quite a bit of talking and signing of receipts before I could get my tire back; however I finally did and was on my way.
My plan for this day was to drive up to our farm about 175 miles to the north. The main purpose of my trip was to continue digging out from the Blizzard of '78 and to deliver an old car that I had fixed up for one of my daughters who was in dire need of transportation. The trip was uneventful and I arrived safely at the farm about 2:00 PM.
The first thing I did after unpacking was to make sure that the old car on which I had spent so much money was still in good running order. It would not start, it would not turn over, it did nothing. After several hours work, with the help of a neighbor, we determined it was a poor battery connection and we finally got the old car running and proceeded to the next job which was to try and get my tractor and snow plow out of the barn so we could start to dig out. We found an immense drift up against the door to the tractor storage area. It took a lot of digging just to get the door open, at which point we realized it was too late in the day to start digging the main drift so we returned to my car so I could drive my neighbor home.
It was now that the roof fell in--I had lost my keys, all of my keys. At first I refused to accept what had happened. It was just too horrible to contemplate. We had been wandering all over the farm trying to pick the best route for the tractor--there were two feet of snow on the ground and drifts up to six feet which we had crawled over. I kept going through my pockets but all I found was the hole. We looked till the light started to fail but, of course, no luck--this was not to be a period of good luck--quite the contrary: Murphy's Law now came into full effect.
I had to get my friend home for diner so I got my snowmobile out and, surprisingly, it started and I was able to deliver my friend safely home. I then returned just in time to see my recently repaired snow tire again go flat. There was no way to do anything about it as I could not get into the trunk where my spare tire and tools rested. This last blow sent me into the farm house sobbing loudly as I went. Once inside, I prepared myself a mixture of gin and Vermouth [Dad's beloved Manhattan!] and called my wife back at our home base. Thank goodness she was kind and understanding; I don't think I could have taken recriminations for my stupidity in carrying my keys while plowing and crawling through the snow drifts. She also found one of the little tags with a key number which we believed to be the ignition key that I so badly needed--this key would also open the trunk as it closed with an electric lock and opened when a button was pushed and, of course, the ignition was on. I called the auto dealer and gave him the number so I could pick up the key in the morning.
I was feeling a little better now as I thought my troubles were beginning to lift. I had located another key to the farm house and was not worried about transportation as my son-in-law and I had a jointly owned Jeep pick-up which I could use. He and his family were in Mexico on vacation but had told me, prior to leaving, where the pick-up was stored. My plan was to jump on my snowmobile in the morning, ride to my daughter's house, borrow her car, drive with my friend to a town, 20 miles away, and get the pick-up and the key to my car.
The next morning I was up bright and early, anxious to solve all my problems in a very short time and to get back to normal. I made sure I had everything I needed and walked out the front door, locking it carefully behind me as I would be gone for some time. My snowmobile started up just fine and I took off. I never got out of the yard. I mired it in a large snow drift and found it impossible to move. Well, I had better return to the house and make some phone calls.
My new house key would not work; I had locked myself out. There was nothing to do but start walking. On arriving at my neighbor's house about a mile down the road, I learned that he would be unable to go with me to get the Jeep, but that he could drive me to my daughter's house to get her car. This car was available only part time as the house sitter also had to make use of the car, but I was not worried as I could always use the Jeep or even the old car I had fixed up except that it was blocked in the driveway by my car. However, I figured that, if necessary, we could push it out of the way and get the old car out.
I drove to the dealer and picked up the key--it looked beautiful I then drove to where the jeep pick-up was stored but did not see it. I asked the garage owner and he said someone had picked it up a couple of days before. He knew the man but couldn't think of his name. However, he lived out near my farm. He thought his first name was Bob and his wife was Irene. I returned to to my farm.
The key was not the right one. I decided I would have to push my car out of the way and get the old car out where I could use it. I decided to try once more to make the key work. I tried it in the door and locked the door to see if the key would open it. The key would not work so I closed the door. I had now locked myself out of the car so there was no way of moving it.
At this point, not knowing what else to do I decided to do something about the flat tire. I used the jack from my temporarily borrowed car and was able to remove the wheel and flat tire. I took them to the local gas station for repair. Not even this came easy. After fixing four leaks and still finding more, we decided the only way to repair it would be to use a tube in it. The poor guy doing the job ruined the first tube so had to use a second. Boy, was he glad to get me out of there. I returned and put the wheel back on but was still without transportation and it was time to return my borrowed car.
I called my wife again and asked her to mail her key to me as I could see no other way. At this point I feel that Murphy began to let up a little. I drove down to my neighbor's house and asked him to follow me as I returned the borrowed car. He did so and was going to drive me home. I had found another key to my farm house at my daughter's, so I would be able to get back in. On the way back, my friend thought of one more person who might have picked up the Jeep. We drove to his place and there it was. I explained my need for the Jeep and drove it home. My friend followed me and helped me get the snowmobile unstuck and back in the shed where I park it.
So now, this 15th day of February 1978, I write these notes to remember my misfortunes as I relax with the comfortable feeling that: I now have transportation; my car key should be on the way; my equipment is all back where it belongs; the rest of my keys are replaceable; and I apparently have survived the most frustrating two days of my life. Tomorrow I will try to locate a metal detector and try once more to locate my keys.
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See ya later Dad... BOG
