"Pop" goes the main spring...
It happened on a day not unlike this one except that it was perhaps 20 degrees warmer and about 3 months farther into the year. It was summer you see…
That day, a Friday, started with a beautiful sun washed morning and I was picking up children to be delivered to an expensive day camp for another fun-filled romp and activity fest when we heard a loud BANG(!) and the pungent smell of gasoline permeated the air around us, prompting me to look in the rearview mirror to notice that we were leaving an ever expanding trail of possibly volatile fuel in our wake…
On that sun drenched morning I had a van load of kids already and I was enroute to my last pickup before heading off to the camp for the day. My final stop was the De Lorean’s estate in Bedminster, to pick up vivacious little Kathryn. Her brother, Zachery, was already at the camp because he stayed behind the night before for the weekly Thursday overnight. I was about a mile away from the De Lorean’s estate (well, three if you count their 2 mile long driveway).
Kathryn was about four and delightful, very bright, sparkly, outgoing and always surrounded by a group of friends. Zachary, her older brother, was shy and reserved and just wanted to keep a low profile, exactly what you’d expect from a pre-adolescent boy. They were nice kids. Kathryn used to stop by my closet-sized office with her little friends after swimming, to show them how the IBM Selectric typewriter I was using at that time could ‘type by itself.’ She’d say “this is Foxy and Foxy’s typewriter can type by itself…show them how it types by itself Foxy.” Cute… It always brightened my day.
You see, I was the camp secretary in the summer since the regular secretary took the summer off and they needed a seasonal replacement. I had an office background and a bona fide school bus drivers license, also valuable since they needed certified bus drivers for the camp in summer and the school in winter. For this, I was paid a pittance and both sonnies were admitted to the camp tuition-free. We certainly couldn’t have afforded to send them there otherwise. It also meant that they could go in with me in the morning, go home with me in the late afternoon and I would get to see them off and on during the day so I knew they were okay. I liked that because I didn’t like to leave my kids alone or with someone else if I could avoid it. I took my parenting very seriously, which is why I liked schoolbus driving. It meant that I would have the maximum time with my kids since our calendars and schedules pretty much approximated each other.
One day Kathryn’s mother, supermodel Christina Ferrare, called me and told me that Kathryn had been playing with her jewelry that morning and inadvertantly went off to camp wearing her diamond and ruby ring in the shape of a butterfly. She was afraid that Kathryn had probably realized that she had left with the ring on and was worried about it. Would I mind taking Kathryn aside and telling her she could just wear it home later and give it to Cindy, the chief housekeeper and secretary? And most importantly, let Kathryn know that mommy loved her and wasn’t mad at her. She had to go to a modelling gig and would be away overnight.
I located and talked with Kathryn (who wasn’t feeling guilty) but when the owner of the camp found out, he had a figurative stroke and wanted me to get the ring away from her so we could lock it in the safe for the day. He was having apoplexy. Kathryn didn’t want to part with the ring so it wasn’t an easy situation. Especially since her counselor had decided that she should wear the ring for the day. Nothing doing. Owner-man made me part Kathryn from the ring and “witness” him putting the ring in the safe and then taking it out at the end of the day. He made me present it to Cindy when I took the kids home and then made me reassure him afterward that the ring was safely delivered and everything was alright.
The full-day camp was a large one for children of well-to-do parents and offered a full array of activities, including rocketry, riflery, fishing, swimming and horseback riding, along with the usual assortment of camp activities. Also on the expansive grounds was a mini-resort area for well heeled summer idlers, a kind of country club thing sans the golf and banquet facilities and very de rigueur don’t’cha know... During the rest of the year the camp became an expensive country day school from pre-school through fifth grade. Transportation to and from the camp/school was provided by one of a fleet of vans sporting the popular jaunty frog logo along with the name… That was what I was driving that fateful day…one of those “froggy” vans.
Anyway, the gang had been under the sluggish spell of morning when suddenly everything changed. I realized immediately that we probably had a dangerous situation and it was imperative to stop and evacuate the children immediately. Fortunately it happened near a lovely house on the opposite side of the road which was the last house for quite a long distance. Leading my bedraggled entourage, I knocked on the door and we were in luck. Someone was home.
The door was answered by a very real butler in a spiffy black ‘morning’suit with a vest and a crisp white shirt and bow tie, just like in the movies. Behind him was a maid dressed in a black maid’s uniform, with a frilly white apron and a little cap, just like in the movies. Wow, they really do wear those clothes! Gosh, I felt seedy all of a sudden. More surprises were still in store for me. It turned out that the home was owned by some politician, a senator or representative or something, but they were not in residence at the time. Would we all care to come in and rest while I used the telephone to call the camp, apprise them of the situation and request a pickup? Why, yes, we certainly would. And we did…
Our ‘properly’ bedecked welcoming committee ushered us into a sunken living room with wall to wall pristine white shag carpeting. The sofas and chairs were also white or very light silk as I remember, and there was a black full-size grand piano in one corner by a wall of glass looking out onto a full Roman style pool, completely hedged in and surrounded by a beautiful formal garden with cherubic statuary. It was fantastic! Now I was sure I’d entered some type of ‘warp’ and was transplanted onto a
The dressed for camp children were invited to make themselves comfortable on the well appointed furniture (ooooh, noooo…) and asked if they’d like something to tide them over while they waited, such as Pepsi and oreos perhaps. They actually had stuff like that in a place like this?! Ohmigosh. In a perfect chorus, the answer was an enthusiastic YES! Aaaaagh, these kids were going to be served caffeinated cola drinks and chocolate cookies in this perfect white decorator’s paradise?! And first thing in the morning? Shudder…
I was shown into the gleaming restaurant-style kitchen where there was another domestic or two bustling around while I used the telephone and wondered all the while who’d be sued if the hyperactive sugar-fueled kids spilled soda and chocolate cookies crumbs all over the living room and/or left grubby handprints on the upholstery or broke some rare and irreplaceable bric-a-brac. My head was reeling and my heart racing…
I was told by the camp owner to sit tight and they’d bring another van to me but we’d have to wait until a van was available as they were all currently in use. Oh boy… To heighten the excitement, a police cruiser had now arrived along with a firetruck and they were all out there in their official gear using foam on the gasoline leak and assessing the situation. The kids ran to the windows and were enthralled. I remembered that I still had another child to pick up so I used the telephone again and called the De Lorean residence.
Cindy Brady, the chief housekeeper and secretary (and sometimes babysitter) of the De Loreans told me “no problem,” she’d bring Kathryn to me. Oh, thank goodness. I spoke with the police and firemen and learned that the loud bang was of a freakish nature, one of the van’s springs let loose and punctured the gas tank. Ouch! I counted our blessings…
Soon Cindy showed up in one of John De Lorean’s personal DMC-12s that were always there for the family and the effervescent Kathryn jumped out with delighted squeals over all the excitement and ran off to join the others for adventure and refreshment. Cindy and I chatted for a couple of minutes while I oohed and awed over the car, having been interested in them from the time I had first read about John De Lorean’s dream car in a car magazine. This was the first time I had ever been this close to one and able to look it over inside and out, even though there was always one or two at the house when I picked the kids up or dropped them off. It was a beauty, sitting there gleaming in the sunshine. The sporty DMC-12s (featured in the Back To The Future movies)are unique in that they’re stainless steel with an unpainted brushed stainless steel body. Cindy regaled me with some of the salient facts while I checked out the engine and the interior, and sat behind the wheel. Oh, this was exciting!
The maimed and crippled van was loaded on a tow truck and our replacement van finally arrived. I’m happy to report that we left the ‘paradise’ house reasonably intact and most importantly, everyone was safe and sound with lots of fun stories to relate to all the other kids that day. Kathryn was happy (even though she wasn’t with us for the initial big bang) that she was able to trump her brother’s overnight experience with a story of her own.
Yep, the life of a bus driver can be exciting and adventurous, but never more so than on that sunny summer morning in in
John Zachery De Lorean died on
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