Posted on 05/29/2005 7:20:46 AM PDT by redrock
From the Oxford Dictionary and other sources.....
1)A tough young man from a working-class background who is much involved with cars or motorcycles........
2)A Native Mexican....or Mexican -American......
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I don't know which one Carlos applied to himself...maybe one...maybe both.
Don't know...don't care.
But I've included both descriptions of the word 'Greaser'...to help out all those sanctimonious idiots who will read the one word...(and as the story will tell...how he described himself)...and fail to read the words ABOUT a person who deserves our respect.
An American Hero.
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When my father was hurt....and put into a wheelchair....and eventually the V.A. Hospital, one of the first persons he met was Carlos.
There was my dad, still struggling with the idea of being in a wheelchair...and struggling with using one, and along comes Carlos.....in the middle of a wheelchair race...sounding ,for all the world,...like the roadrunner of cartoon fame. Yelling ..."Beep-Beep"...every few yards.
And as he passed ....(followed by 4-5 other wheelchairs) I could see written on the back of his wheelchair the words ( just before he turned the corner of the hallway on what looked like to me.....2 wheels)......."The Worlds Fastest Greaser"....(found out later he had his kids paint that on.)
A couple of minutes later...he returned to where we were. I got to see his face. Worn...weathered ....handlebar mustache....and slicked back hair.
And a grin.....that made you smile back.
He looked at my dad (as he struggled with the 'chair')....and just plainly said..." New huh???...Lets take a roll". Simple as that........we met the person who would change my dad's life.....and who, for the next five years, would make life interesting.
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Almost every weekend we would spend at Carlos's house. I would be playing with his kids (he had 5)...him and my dad would be drinking beer....and discussing the fate of the planet....and discussing how to improve the 'chair'.
Finally....they hit upon the idea of getting a lawn-mower engine and putting it on the wheelchair. (these were the old Jennings wheelchairs...heavy and not very precise when it comes to steering.). So...with the help of us kids....it's what we did.
The day arrived...when Carlos was ready to try it out...(and after having more than a few beers...deciding that it was a safe thing to do). So...he transferred to the new chair....one with the motor attached...and one that his kids had decked out with a few chrome attachments. Starting the motor....he just looked at us...and yelled out "Beep-Beep"...and (with smoke coming out of the old lawn-mower engine) took off down the road.
He made it around 45 yards before he crashed into Mr. Pons elm tree.
We all ran to make sure he was alright....and found him there...on his back...laughing his head off.
"Almost as good as drag-racing!!!" he was repeating over and over....laughing all the time he said it.
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Until Carlos passed away a few years later....this is how life went. Him and my dad would always be trying to create a new way to power the wheelchair...or a new way to steer it...or a way to make it faster and lighter.
And for this, and perhaps this alone, I would describe him as an American Hero.
But there's more........
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Carlos was 20 years old when he , and the rest of his Marine unit, was sent to Korea.
There was a war on.....(" Wasn't no damned 'police-action'....it was a war.") and his unit was being sent in to bolster the last attack on the North Koreans. His unit almost made it to the Yalu River....when the Chinese crossed over and pushed them back....and back.
Making it alive thru all of that fighting....making it alive thru Chosen....and still being pushed back...to almost the original dividing line between North and South Korea. Finally....his Company being assigned to some nameless hill....in the middle of nowhere.
It was getting close to the end of the war....they were 'talking' in Panmounjon...and everyone was getting a little more hopeful that they would get home...and see their families once again.
Around 100 men on this hilltop, hoping to go home, when ,one night, the Chinese Bugles sounded out...and fear started over again. (at this point of telling the story....he would just get quiet...and the 'old veterans stare' would replace his normal look....so I can't tell you what happened because I don't know.)
Then he would speak up again,after a while, and just say...."Ya know...we had over 100 men on that hill....and only four of us walked off. The rest were carried."
He would then point to frame on the wall and just say quietly (as if to someone not there...but there)..."...so they gave me that....but I would rather have my friends back."
...and on the wall was a frame....one made my his children...and in the center of that frame was a Silver Star.
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So....if you're in some Hospital somewhere....and from down the hall...comes a handful of wheelchairs...racing.....
...stand aside and let 'em pass.
...and if you should hear the ghost of a sound going "Beep-Beep" (and sounding for all the world like some deranged Road Runner).....smile.
For the ghost of an American Hero.....just rolled by.
.
See Post No. 39
.
Mike
redrock
On my way to VA hospital this afternoon.
BTTT
redrock
redrock
Check it out.
redrock
The old stradivarius curmudgeon. :)
Your stories are beginning to make the extraordinary seem ordinary. But, as Tommy Franks.. or someone said, the military is a mere 2% of the population. Most of us don't carry memories that evoke the "veteran's stare."
You were RIGHT.
GOD bless you and Carlos, and Stan, and ALL our OTHER Vets.(warts and all)
SHAME on those who cannot see past those 'warts', to love, honor, remember what they have sacrificed for US. Shame on those who can only see 'warts' so they can point fingers of judgement.
SHAME on those who enjoy and insist upon their freedoms, while they FORGET the ones who GAVE that to them.
I gained another couple hundred new 'dads'.
I listened to their stories....and learned more than I can ever repay.
Tommorrow...visit a rest home...or a V.A Hospital....and you will see first hand that the extraordinary is , in those places, very ordinary.
I just write about what I have seen.
redrock
America is a wonderful place...and I will go to my grave convinced that no one loves her more than me...but it has 'warts'....and those 'warts'...are well represented by the ones who have paid the price.
To deny that they exist...and to just concentrate on those 'warts'...make us sound like Liberals.
Which is kinda disgusting......
Mike
redrock
Carlos seems to have inspired others as well. ;-)
Giuseppe Cannella can reach speeds of more than 60mph
redrock
redrock
redrock
redrock
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