{"id":2507,"date":"2020-09-01T06:00:00","date_gmt":"2020-09-01T10:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/azadkinsiii.com\/blog\/?p=2507"},"modified":"2021-10-15T12:36:57","modified_gmt":"2021-10-15T16:36:57","slug":"46-the-oh-crap-bag-whats-in-yours","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/azadkinsiii.com\/blog\/46-the-oh-crap-bag-whats-in-yours\/","title":{"rendered":"#46 \u2013 The \u201cOh Crap\u201d Bag\u2026 What\u2019s in Yours?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

  1. Who said, \u201cPeople will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.\u201d<\/em>?<\/li>
  2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, \u201cWe improvise, we adapt, and we overcome.\u201d<\/em>?<\/li>
  3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following:
    Hot town, summer in the city<\/em>
    Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty<\/em>
    Been down, isn’t it a pity<\/em>
    Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city<\/em>

    All around, people looking half dead<\/em>
    Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head<\/em><\/li><\/ol>\n\n\n
    <\/div>
    Blog #46 (Audio)<\/div><\/div>
    <\/div>

    Listen to the audio of this blog, read by Andy Adkins. Click the \u201cAudio<\/strong><\/em>\u201d button below.<\/p>\n<\/div>

    Published: <\/span>October 15, 2021<\/span><\/div>
    <\/div>Audio by Andy Adkins<\/a><\/div><\/form><\/span>0<\/span> Downloads<\/span><\/span><\/div><\/div>
    <\/div>\n\n\n
    \n\n\n\n

    We\u2019re right smack dab in the middle of hurricane season here in Florida, which is \u201cofficially\u201d designated between June 1 and November 30. I\u2019ve lived in Florida most of my life, as has my wife\u2014she grew up in Miami; I grew up here in Gainesville. We\u2019ve been through many hurricanes and I can tell you from experience, no two are the same. You\u2019d think we might get used to them, especially as we get older, but I\u2019ve got news for you\u2026 you don\u2019t<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I never heard the term, \u201cThe Oh crap bag<\/strong>\u201d when I was in the Navy. It was something we just didn\u2019t need to worry about. When you\u2019re a young, unmarried sailor stationed in NAS Agana, Guam<\/em><\/strong> (\u201973-75) or aboard an aircraft carrier, USS Kitty Hawk<\/em><\/strong> (\u201975-77), you don\u2019t have that much to haul around. Simply put, if it didn\u2019t fit in your seabag, you didn\u2019t need it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I first heard the term when I worked as a firefighter with the City of Gainesville<\/em><\/strong>, not long after I left the Navy. During a call to a house fire, one of the more \u201cseasoned\u201d firefighters made the comment, \u201cI sure hope they took their \u2018Oh sh*t bag\u2019 with them.<\/em>” After the fire was out, which BTW, devastated most of the house, I caught up with him and asked what he meant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    That\u2019s when I learned that the \u201cOh crap bag\u201d is a prepacked bag with important stuff you grab on your way out the door when you have to leave in a hurry and you\u2019re not sure if your house will still be there when you return. It takes the guesswork out of what you need when you need it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    It\u2019s not something to joke about\u2026 this is real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Florida hurricane season<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

    Hurricanes come ashore somewhere in Florida almost every year. Some are worse than others. But in every case, we have the \u201copportunity\u201d to watch the Weather Channel and the local news to see where the storm is, where it\u2019s expected to hit, and decide from then, whether or not we need to leave the house. In other words, we usually have a lot of warning<\/em> (and, I might add, a lot of anxiety<\/em>) ahead of time\u2026 that is, for hurricanes<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    At the beginning of the season and<\/em> when a hurricane approaches, the newspapers, local TV stations, and social media always<\/em> provide a \u201cchecklist,\u201d commonly called a \u201cDisaster Supply Kit.\u201d This contains common sense supplies, such as a flashlight & radio (with batteries), first aid, and pet care items. This year, they\u2019ve included COVID-19 items like face masks, hand sanitizer, and cleaning wipes\u2014like that\u2019s one more thing<\/em> we need to worry about. Sheesh!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Hurricanes are NOT <\/em>the only worry\u2026<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

    But\u2014you may not know this\u2014hurricanes can spin off tornadoes. That\u2019s a totally different story. You never <\/em>know when or where those <\/em>disasters hit. And, unlike hurricanes, there is rarely any warning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    My wife and I lived in Idabel, OK for a year in the mid-80s. I worked as an electronics engineer for Weyerhaeuser Company<\/em><\/strong>, a forest products company. We actually started this<\/em> \u201cjourney\u201d in 1982 in Federal Way, WA, midway between Seattle and Tacoma in the Pacific Northwest\u2026 beautiful country. We were there for a year. I blogged a little about that earlier<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    However, I musta stepped on someone\u2019s toes, though, because after my first year, the company transferred us to a pulp & paper mill in Valliant, OK, located in the armpit of southeast Oklahoma. I say that jokingly. It was a lovely place, beautiful country, we made some good friends, and… my daughter was born there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

    But we were 10 miles from Texas and 20 miles from Arkansas. If we went out to dinner in Idabel (that\u2019s where we lived), we\u2019d eat at a Sonic drive-in restaurant or at Bob\u2019s Catfish house. Not a lot of night life in Idabel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    But I digress\u2026.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    We were fortunate enough to NOT see or experience any tornadoes while living in what we commonly called, \u201cTornado Alley.\u201d But we had an \u201cOh crap bag\u201d ready, just in case.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I\u2019ve been through a tornado or two here in Gainesville, both as a firefighter (that was interesting<\/em>) as well as a citizen (that was challenging<\/em>). They are scary and–my wife and I have talked about this several times–even if we needed to evacuate, where would we go? In Oklahoma, people had underground storm cellars; in Florida, if you dig down more than two feet, you hit water. Not a lot of options here other than to hunker down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    And yes, we\u2019ve spent more than one night sleeping on the floor in the hallway, away from windows and doors. That\u2019s not a lot of fun, trying to get some sleep but staying mostly awake, listening to the wind howl and the trees sway, hoping that nothing comes crashing down through the roof of the house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    No power for days<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

    There was that time, though, a couple of years ago when a hurricane came right up the middle of Florida. While we didn\u2019t sustain any house damage, it blew (\u201cmicro bursts\u201d) several huge oak trees down in various parts of our neighborhood, which took out the overhead power lines. Long story short, we were without power for six days. Fortunately, we had running water and our propane gas BBQ grill, so at least we could make coffee and cook a few meals. We kept our cold stuff in ice chests and coolers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    The first few days were okay, and we could sleep with the windows open because it was cool at night. But then several neighbors cranked up their diesel generators. They kept them running day and<\/em> night. Not that it reminded me of my time on the flight deck behind a jet exhaust, but I found myself more than once reminiscing those times, “triggered” by the smell of diesel fuel and<\/em> exhaust.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I learned something new, though. The Gainesville house we bought when we moved back from West Virginia in 2015 had been completely renovated including new plumbing, with the new water pipes run through the attic. Since it got hot in the afternoons, that meant the water in the pipes was also hot (we had an electric hot water heater). So, back to the standard Navy-issue \u201cthree-minute\u201d showers<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    After six days, the utility crews finally restored power. It turns out that on our neighborhood block, two power poles had snapped in half during the storm. There were hundreds that had snapped city-wide, and the utility company simply ran out of replacement utility poles. But we were thankful that the damage wasn\u2019t any worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Losing a house<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

    I have a close friend who lived on the St. John\u2019s River in St. Augustine. Over the years, she & her husband have more than once hunkered down during hurricanes. They were far enough inland that the hurricanes didn\u2019t affect them as if they had lived directly on the coast. That was\u2026 until a few years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Their house was about an hour and a half from us. In the past, she\u2019d come over to stay with friends here in Gainesville while her husband remained behind to ride out the storm and \u201ctake care of anything\u201d he could during the storm. While they\u2019d had damage to their wooden dock a time or two during past hurricanes, nothing <\/em>compared to the unexpected storm surge caused by this particular hurricane two years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Her husband recorded a dozen short videos on his phone from inside the house as the water began to rise in the river\u2014the \u201cstorm surge.\u201d First it was two feet below the dock, then an hour later, water was even with the dock. Then the dock disappeared, but the water still had not made it over the river bulkhead. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Not much later, the waves were strong enough to crash over the bulkhead. The house was about 20 feet away from the river. Then the river peaked over the bulkhead, but not in the house (yet). Then, the waves began to crash up against the sliding glass doors knocking them off their tracks, but he was able to put the doors back in and physically hold them in place, keeping the water from entering the house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    A little while later, the water was not only under<\/em> the house, but coming in through the front door. It wasn\u2019t pretty. By the time I got over there the next day, the water had subsided, but he was mopping it up the best he could. Water was still in the garage, about a foot deep, but he had managed to save as much as he could. We pulled the carpet, mopped and squeegeed, and got most of the water up off the floor, but there was a distinct waterline about six inches up the walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I know they weren\u2019t the only ones whose home was damaged that day; many neighbors also experienced damage. The thing is, that house had been on the river for forty-plus years and had seen many hurricanes. This one, though, was the one that did the most damage; so much, that the house couldn\u2019t be saved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    They are safe, though, and found another place not too far from their old house. It\u2019s near, but not as close, to the St. John\u2019s River.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Mother Nature doesn\u2019t kid around<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

    We live in Gainesville, Florida, located a couple of hours from each coast, about an hour south of the FL\/GA line, and two hours north of Dizzy World. We don\u2019t get the flooding and winds that the coastline communities receive. Yes, we get damage now and then, but mostly, it\u2019s debris from the trees. After a major storm, we usually fill up four or five garbage cans of this “salad” debris.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    We\u2019re at that age where we don\u2019t want bad things to happen to anyone. In one sense, you\u2019re happy that the hurricane didn\u2019t directly affect you. But on the other hand, you don\u2019t feel right hoping it goes somewhere else, because you know it\u2019s going to hit somewhere and wherever that somewhere is, it ain\u2019t gonna be pretty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Survivor\u2019s guilt<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

    I\u2019m sure I\u2019m not the only one that has this \u201cselfish\u201d thought. While I\u2019m talking about hurricanes in this post, I know also from experience on both the flight deck and as a city firefighter, that no matter how careful you are, sometimes, people get hurt. But if you\u2019re \u201clucky\u201d enough to not <\/em>be hurt, you sometimes still carry a feeling of guilt. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Over the years, I\u2019ve spoken with many veterans, including WWII, Vietnam & Vietnam-era, and GWOT (Global War on Terror). Many of us periodically experience a \u201ctrigger\u201d that takes us back to a not-so-good memory of an event that occurred during our time in the service. We rarely like to talk about it, especially with our families and our kids. One thing I have noticed, though, is that it\u2019s often easier to talk with another veteran who\u2019s shared a similar experience–someone who\u2019s \u201cbeen there and done that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    The \u201c1000-yard stare\u201d is a common term, I’m sure you’ve heard. Most of my veteran friends know what I\u2019m talking about. I experience that periodically. It\u2019s not necessarily a bad thing to remember, because it helps remind me of the good times I\u2019ve had in my life, too. Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and \u201ctweak\u201d a few things, but that\u2019s not possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Am I the only one that thinks that way?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    What\u2019s in my \u201cOh crap bag?\u201d<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
    \"Moosche\"<\/a>
    “Moosche”
    Don’t forget the cat!
    (Click to enlarge)<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

    So, seriously, what\u2019s in my \u201cOh shit bag?\u201d No real surprises here. We have important legal documents and a few small irreplaceable \u201cfamily\u201d items. Not a lot (it’s a small bag), but those are things that we would need should we lose the house and not be able to recover anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I\u2019ve thought about expanding my \u201cbag\u201d and instead, have an \u201cOh crap van.\u201d That way, I could also load up all my family (and NAVY) photo albums, my mom & dad\u2019s \u201cpass-me-downs,\u201d my computer(s), hard drives, backups, and a few more clothes. But then, with the hurricane season as it is\u2014that is, hit or miss\u2014I\u2019d be spending a lot of time loading and unloading. Sheesh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    And of course, I need to remember to carry that one other item\u2026 our \u201cnew\u201d alarm clock<\/a> we fondly call Moosche, our cat. we can\u2019t forget him. I\u2019d miss reveille without him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Stay safe, my friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Until we meet again,<\/em>
    Andy<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \"NEVER<\/a><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

    Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (\u201973-77) and the author of several books. His newest novel, NEVER FORGET, is the story of A Vietnam Veteran\u2019s Journey for Redemption & Forgiveness. NEVER FORGET is FREE (eBook, PDF) for all veterans. Download your FREE<\/strong> copy HERE<\/a><\/strong>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Previous posts mentioned in this blog:<\/p>\n\n\n\n