I wrote some of this back in May of 2011. We have added to the cast, and some members have retired or transferred to other units. Giving thanks for the new as well as the old...to Dan and Wilson, Juan and Franklin...and Jeff, Joe Cat...also the new girl who traded positions with Natalie. To Jorge and Zhana..as always...thanks.
This is about the retired Bobby Hodges...
Tall man with broad shoulders and a booming voice. To be in his presence is to be secure. His unflappable experience, his absolutely explosive temper in the face of injustice and stupidity alike, are forces of nature.
I watched him write his resignation letter this morning, coaching him through the technicalities of a Microsoft Word Document, but the sentiments expressed were simple, sublime and entirely is own.
He compliments me on my writing and defers to me as the better scribe, but I beg to differ.
"With great trepidation and anticipation..." He began without the aid of spell-check, a new and wondrous feature he never imagined existed.
I could not help but be moved. This is one of the people I have gravitated to in the squad. I have only been to the homes of a hand full of my coworkers. His was one. A more giving and generous person you will not find. I have been very fortunate to be welcomed into the night Squad by the likes of Damon Boccadoro, Lloyd Cropper, Lenny Asaro, Tom Zurica, Russell Smith, Tony Carbone, Frankie Cosimano, Willie Blake Scofield Smith, Gary Apostolo, Denny Randazzo, Tom Ward, Don Gittens, Vinnie Cerrcone, Dominick, Mario, Johnny, Davey and Robert "Bobby" Hodges.
I have been able to craft an honest living while trying to face my own fears, short comings and prejudices to help where we are able to make life better in New York.
It has been a privilege to work side by side with such people. It is a truly unique job.
As Bobby says "it is never boring".
Mark Ransom
Supervising Inspector
Emergency Response Team
Highlights from the past year include the award for excellence,
Sco-daddy's retirement...
Johnny and Davey get a big write up in the New York Times for their work on Sandy recovery in the Rockaways
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/20/nyregion/in-queens-deciding-fate-of-homes-damaged-by-hurricane-sandy.html?_r=0
All in all a banner year here.
Thanksgiving, much to be thankful for.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Monday, November 25, 2013
I Remember James
There are no photos from the early 1990's when a huge turning point took place in my life. I bought a microphone and a PA amp, hooked up an acoustic guitar and declared myself a blues singer. Not because I had any musical talent what-so-ever, but because I was wounded to my core and I needed healing. Having the blues does not make you a great performer, but it can make a so-so performer perform better. And so I took my turn in a down-on-its-luck part of town and played my heart out to a few world weary travelers. This is one of the stories from those days, my lost years. Not because I lost that time in a haze of self induced dementia, but because I was Lost...until I found the Amazing Grace of my current life: my wife, my current job and...and now I see.
I remember James (sweet James)
I remember James
And Alex
Listening
To my blues renditions
Of Sweet Jane
And When the Levee Breaks
At a little joint called Tippy’s
Tippy's cafe
West of the wild side
A guitar
And raw emotion
Inspired by
My personal tragedies
Expressed for the
Intrepid company
Who found a place
Named for
The owner's dog
Maddie May
under age
Tending bar
In a New York
Now long gone
Taking care of
Us All
With Rolling Rock
And a smile
She lit the decadent dark
As a parade of sexy
Rebels
Took place nightly
Right outside
I remember James
As a man of quality
Who cared deeply for
The craftsmen
And integrity
I remember James and
His intensity
How he could not
Tolerate
Mediocrity
I remember James
And his neon blue eyes
That saw only
What could be
When people focused
On perfection
And how that
Would set us free
I do remember James
And that fateful
Night
When he asked me to
stay, linger, and talk
Just for while
But I declined
Siting some
Early work day
With such short sight
For how was I to know
I would be the last to see him
Before he took his life
Dear James,
I will never forget you
I will keep your spirit alive
Singing your song
To everyone
Deep into
The perfect night
I remember James (sweet James)
I remember James
And Alex
Listening
To my blues renditions
Of Sweet Jane
And When the Levee Breaks
At a little joint called Tippy’s
Tippy's cafe
West of the wild side
A guitar
And raw emotion
Inspired by
My personal tragedies
Expressed for the
Intrepid company
Who found a place
Named for
The owner's dog
Maddie May
under age
Tending bar
In a New York
Now long gone
Taking care of
Us All
With Rolling Rock
And a smile
She lit the decadent dark
As a parade of sexy
Rebels
Took place nightly
Right outside
I remember James
As a man of quality
Who cared deeply for
The craftsmen
And integrity
I remember James and
His intensity
How he could not
Tolerate
Mediocrity
I remember James
And his neon blue eyes
That saw only
What could be
When people focused
On perfection
And how that
Would set us free
I do remember James
And that fateful
Night
When he asked me to
stay, linger, and talk
Just for while
But I declined
Siting some
Early work day
With such short sight
For how was I to know
I would be the last to see him
Before he took his life
Dear James,
I will never forget you
I will keep your spirit alive
Singing your song
To everyone
Deep into
The perfect night
Friday, November 22, 2013
50 Years Ago
It was 50 years ago today, long before Sargent Pepper taught the band to play, this country went into a tail spin. Deep in my core the wounds suffered then by the ruthless murder of a charismatic man, a man who promised so much, held promise in the palm of his hand, made me a jaded and cynical boy.The first of three devastating assassinations, the first recorded on a visual medium where details of that act of violence can neither be exaggerated nor diminished and thus have become etched unforgettably onto our collective conscious. It was as vicious and cowardly an act as flying air liners into buildings. The price we paid? The turbulence and civil strife of the '60's? The decadence of the '70's? The greed of the '80's and '90's? What happens when faith is shaken? What happens when the dreamer awakens? Roll up your sleeves. There's work to do.
Monday, November 11, 2013
I Miss My Father
I miss my father
In the winter
When bone is chilled
And wind is bitter
I miss my father
In the spring
When he did
Make his hammer sing
I miss my father
In the summer
When this city
Sweats in swelter
But I miss my father
Most of all
When green leaves turn
In the fall
My dad was not a veteran, too young for WW II, too old for Vietnam...his wars were fought at home...with his demons.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Theater as Classroom
Listen
how my heart moves
when you are near
feel...see...right
here
I have decided to take my study of theater to the source this season. Starting with the great production of Glass Menagerie, by Tennessee Williams; quite possibly our American Shakespeare, then diving into a total immersion of Bard-olatry with Donmar's Julius Caesar at St. Ann's, then to a symposium at the Pearl on Shakespeare's verse, then to Macbeth most appropriately on Halloween as this heavily tech-ed up version not only includes all the witches and Hecate, but they and their minions become a featured attraction. Then to the sublime and period authentic Mark Rylance in Richard the III. True students should not miss one of the two productions in rep at the Belasco (a great theater for Shakespeare). Every detail of a Shakespearean era play "Striving for Authenticity" is considered from fabric to musical instruments.
My further study coming soon is to see Waiting for Godot with Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellen, Billy Cruddup and Shuler Hensley...then on to the Public Theater's reprisal of Good Person of Szechwan by Brecht, rounded off with the Mark Rylance and Stephen Fry Twelfe Night.
After that...I think I can call it a semester.
Happy Birthday in Heaven Dad.
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