LADDER 5; P 8
‘HOT DOG CLUB’
When working with Lt. Mike you never knew what oddball type run you may wind up with as he seemed to get the wacky ones, especially working in the Village where you would expect to encounter a number of eccentric oddball characters that every now and then needed our services. One recollection was for a “biblical” burning bush outside a Jewish Nursing Home, of course the proverbial cat hung up on the baseball backstop that refused to come down and a parrot high in the tree next to the owner who was frozen from a fear of heights trying to capture the free bird. I had to thread the aerial through the branches and have Tommy Hannafin climb the aerial to retrieve the bird owner. The bird owner wasn’t satisfied and insisted we reposition the ladder to fetch his bird but Mike firmly advised him “we don’t do birds”.
With many young renegade free spirit citizens we had a few runs where their animated emotions ran the gamut. One particular instance I remember a tree had fallen completely across Greenwich Street blocking traffic, the street is a busy one way thoroughfare that is lined with maple trees on both sides. We were turned out and when we arrived there was a small lively crowd that was crying and carrying on over the fallen tree. But that wasn’t enough; they also began demanding that we use the ladder to lift the tree like a crane and place it back into the ground.
When the PD arrived we proceeded to go about cutting up the downed tree. Just as we were wrapping up putting the saw and other tools away, in passing, I mentioned to Mike in jest what you suppose would happen if you gave an order to cut down all the remaining trees on the block? And without hesitation Mike turned to the crowd and said loud enough for everyone to hear “CUT DOWN THE REST OF THESE TREES”. All I can say was thank God the PD was there, we almost created a riot.
We were not two minutes away the whole crew laughing aloud at the chaos we left behind from the tree removal job when we received a message from Manhattan CO: “MANHATTAN TO L 5, MEET THE DIVISION AT 6TH AVE AND 8TH STREET, K”. Mike is no longer laughing, he is beside himself now and mumbles to me “that cutting down all those trees was a joke” and now blames me for making that ‘stupid’ remark and getting us into trouble. Mike likes to fly under the radar and not bring attention to himself, but now I can see he has these dizzying thoughts circulating in his head as he fidgets in his hot seat. I’m unconcerned and tell him it's not the tree, you probably forgot to sign some paperwork in your haste to keep your cubby clean. It’s a tense five minute ride to the location, for Mike anyway, I’m having fun pressing his buttons.
I cut across Greenwich Avenue to 6th Avenue, there across the intersection on 8th Street is the First Division Chiefs car standing alongside the curb. I give Mike one more subtle pump, “your career is dead meat”, and pull up behind the Chiefs car.
Out of the passenger side exits the First Division Chief Pete Hayden, and from behind the wheel pops out his Aide Fr. Jim Cooney. Mike is sitting staunchly in his seat, ready for the reprimand, but Chief Pete strolls over to my side of the rig bypassing Mike and says pointing to Jim; “We want to join the HOT DOG CLUB”.
A few months ago while we were out with the rig cashing our checks at a bank on 6th Avenue Mike mentioned to me he was getting hungry and I said so was I, but lunch was still a couple of hours away. We noticed across the street from the bank on the Northeast corner of 6th Avenue and 8th Street is a twenty-four hour hot dog restaurant called “Gray’s Papaya” one of two in the city that serves high-quality inexpensive hot dogs for only fifty cents! We put our diabolical minds together and hatched the perfect ponzi scheme, the “L 5 HOT DOG CLUB” (HDC).
We decided the initiation fee requires the new “constituent” to buy a round of dogs for the HDC members, and at that time, there were only two members, Mike the President and me the VP. So, when the crew came back from cashing their checks we casually asked if “anyone” was interested in joining the HDC as we were currently recruiting and there is a limited time to join the exclusive organization. That day we had four new “Charter” members join and shortly thereafter we had our fill of hot dogs. But, Little did we know the venture would take on a life of its own!
By all means, the scheme was perfect, Mike and I played up the advantages of joining the HDC as did the new members. Basically we ripped off the benefits of AAA and told the dupes, I mean, pledging HDC members they could expect to see a reduction in hotel rates, air fare, mortgage rates, car insurance, etc. We even at one point added a “free dental” program and kept expanding the list with each recruitment campaign.
But there were harsh and unforgiving rules, and breaking any single one resulted in expulsion and being “Banned for LIfe” or as we preferred, BFL. There was no exception as one E 24 Lieutenant found out to his dismay when he broke the number one cardinal rule; “Divulging any disparaging remark about the HDC” no matter how slim you were BFL. In this case, the guilty party mentioned at the kitchen table that he thought the HDC was a sham. Although he tried fervently to retract his remarks, even offering a written apology he was BFL, done deal. There were two other unequivocal rules; Never desecrate a hot dog by putting ketchup on it, and you could only have one dog, otherwise you were guilty of gluttony. Breaking any one of these three rules and you were unceremoniously tossed.
Little did we know our caper would take on a life of its own with the word spreading like wildfire throughout the Division. Members from other companies detailed to L 5 for the day eagerly asked to join the HDC. And now Division Chief Pete wants in.
“Johnny, me and Jimmy want to join the Hot Dog Club”, said the Chief. I looked over at Mike who was now suddenly piqued with interest craning his neck toward me to hear what the Chief was saying. I sat back, looked at Mike and told him the Chief wanted to join the club “if” that was alright with him. Mike was relieved and I could see the color returning to his face as he relaxed back into his seat. I turned back to the Chief, “Yes, of course you can join, but…” as I made a hitchhiker's thumb towards Mike, “...Mike says you can be the Chief, but since He is the President of the Club he supersedes your rank”. If looks could kill, Mike was throwing daggers.
The Chief, a fine good natured gentleman and remarkable “War Year” legend fire officer had a good chuckle, then proceeded to buy a round of eight dogs. Mike and I were thrilled to add the future COD Boss and his Aide Jim Cooney to our robust roster. I said to Mike, good thing Chief Pete didn’t put any ketchup on his dog, you’d have to tell him he was BFL!
Thanks for reading, hope ya liked it! KMG-365
