HIM-A-CANES

In 1976, yours truly was a green butt, immature, know-nuthin, rookie Highway Patrol Sergeant in Harris County (Houston)(think a bit larger than Wright City) Texas.

Things moved a bit faster there and there was a bit more "folk" strirrin' about than I was used to. The roads were like an infested ant hill of angry varmits and the population all seemed to be pissed at being on the planet.

One day the good Lord decided that it was time for a good long "flush" of that den of inequity and he opened His everymighty faucet and the sky's let loose with a rainfall that would awe all.

During the height of that typhoon event, a memorable (for me) traffic accident occured on Interstate Highway 45 at the North city limits of Houston, Texas.

A truck-tractor semi-trailer-trailer (we be talking a nine axle rig here sports fans) was Southbound into Houston. Said "double-bottom" rig topped an overpass at highway speed and observed that all lanes of traffic were at "grave yard" dead still. Succumbing to homo sapien instinct, the driver slapped both feet on the brake, turned to the left, and promptly jumped the concrete center median barrier and plunged into the Northbound lanes.

Unfortunately, the Northbound lanes had a bit of their own "issues" going on. Seems a "minor" traffic accident had occurred previously which had brought traffic to an absolute stop on all three lanes, including a flat bed two ton truck. Only problem was a car coming behind the flat bed truck already had their head up their figurative butt so they "went the distance" and put their vehicle and their (skull) into the back of the flat bed and thus became a fatality statistic.

Now, back to the tractor, semi-trailer, trailer rig going south in the Northbound lanes into this maelstrom of vehicular chaos? Not to worry, the errant "double bottom rig" was promptly halted by a Northbound tractor, semi trailer Texas Prison System rig going North and they obligingly hit head light to head light and rather suddenly halted the progress of each and more or less stopped the carnage in the Wright City boy Sergeant's area of responsibility......ALMOST?

Trooper Curtis arrived on the scene to "investigate" the carnage. This Trooper was 6"7" and about 350 pounds. Upon arrival, his adrenalin was near bout moon launch level while his trim "bod" was still "swamp launch" weight? Said savior Trooper, "leapt" from his black/white crime fighting vehicle, ran to the concrete wall median separating the north/south lanes, planted his size 15 boot and (promptly tore every last gosh darn ligament, bone, flesh, skin, "whatever", from his ankle area and began to writhe in a rather exquisite manner on the pavement while SCREAMING in multiple languages in tribute to the PAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

OK sports fans, this is the moment when the "all knowing, calm, professional, "whatever" young butt, scared Highway Patrol (wright city) Sergeant" arrives. (This must have been how Hell on Earth, Sodom and Gomorrah, and the Garden of Eden after the "apple bite" looked all rolled into one???????)

OK, first things first. Get Curtis to the hospital to get to orthopedic surgery stuff (them dead ass people was already dead and nothing was gonna change that). HAVE I MENTIONED THAT IT WAS STILL RAINING ABOUT FOUR DAMN INCHES PER HOUR DURING ALL THIS?

Second, start prioritizing and sorting out the individual traffic accidents. Naw, if you wasn't bloodied, just get your butt down the road and work it out with your insurance agent.

Now to the traffic fatalities. Do that work, do the investigation, documentation and follow up as necessary.

Finally, what started all this. Oh yeah, the ole boy that was pushing the "double bottom rig" that jumped the concrete barrier and smacked the prison system rig head on (did I mention the fire?, just minor detail as the flooding rain took care of that buddy after enough environmental crap occurred that the federal Environmental Protection Agency launched their parade?).

Said junior Sergeant interviewed the large, brawny, hairy, tattooed male that was driving the "double bottom" rig and determined that his lack of caution in the inclement weather had started the chain of events that led to several dead and many injured (don't forget the damned fire that looked like a Fourth of July WW III!).

Took that testosterone charged muscle massed truck driving individual to the jail house for well deserved incarceration and proceeded to put the mustached mongrel into the male population of the hoosegow, (when the arrestee rather sheepishly - and with rather gross manifestation - convinced me that - "he" was as "she". (Just goes to show that there are days when ya would rather be an ice cream salesman?)

Guess that was when I figgered out why "her-i-canes" have them feminine names?????????

Lord help us!