Mom Turns 80

I was still in high school when my Mom was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. We really didn't understand what it meant. And we had no idea of the impact that it would have on her in the subsequent years.

As time moved on, my Mom's health continued to decline. She was progressively robbed of her overall mobility. In the initial stages, she used a walker to help guide her along. A few years later, she relied on a battery-operated scooter to move around. We used to joke with her about her "driving skills" as she occasionally took a corner too sharp and gouged the sheetrock or wood molding. It would drive my Dad nuts! At the first sound of impact, he would pop out of his La-Z-Boy recliner and say, "God dammit, Linda! Watch where you're going! I just fixed that wall last week!"

While we tried to keep things light and positive, we knew the seriousness of Mom's bumpy road. She eventually wound up in a electric wheelchair that she controlled with a small joystick. Within a few years, she was no longer able to drive the chair herself. Her mobility now relied on someone else pushing her wheelchair. Sadly, today she is pretty much confined to her bed.

And last year, she starting losing her ability to swallow. So a feeding tube was inserted. Eating, one of the most basic joys in life, was cruelly snatched away. The blows just never seem to stop coming.

The most amazing thing through all of this is that my Mom never gave up hope. And she never complained. Not matter how bad things got, she always viewed it as a temporary setback and believed that tomorrow would be a better day. I found it inspiring and did my best to channel her positive energy into my own life. There were times when I would find myself in a bad spot. Like most of us, my first inclination was to feel sorry for myself. But I would always look at my Mom's way of handling adversity and I would instantly see things differently. After all, whatever I was going through at the time could not even remotely compare to what my Mom was going through. 

I never quite understood cliches like "everything happens for a reason". But if there are two things that I took from my Mom's dire situation, they are: #1. Don't waste time feeling sorry for yourself. It serves no purpose. Get your ass together and start looking for a solution. #2. Don't ever give up!

Admittedly, my Mom's outlook noticeably changed after my Dad's passing in 2016. But she still somehow finds hope with each new day.

Today, my Mom celebrated her 80th birthday. With Roy Orbison streaming from a Bluetooth speaker and her grandkids running rampant, I saw her smile for the first time in a long time.

Mom had a good day today. And that makes me smile....

kw

Francis Scott Key Bridge - The Memories

As I rolled out of bed in the early morning, I checked the messages on my phone. I saw a strange message from Ken Jr regarding the collapse of the Francis Scott Key Bridge. I rubbed my eyes to ensure that they were seeing clearly. Then I checked the message again and the result was the same. So, I rushed downstairs where Tina was pouring her first cup of morning coffee. 

"Have you heard anything about the Key Bridge?", I asked.

She replied, "What are you talking about?"

I grabbed the remote and woke up the kitchen television. As the TV screen came to life, both of our jaws dropped. With a mangled collection of steel protruding out of the water in the background, the news headline confirmed what we did not want to hear...

My first recollections of the Key Bridge go back to when I was a young boy. My best friend's Dad (Mr. Don) worked at the old Bethlehem Steel plant in Sparrows Point. He would tell us how the bridge would make his daily commute to work so much easier. The steel plant would be located just past the east side of the bridge. The bridge construction was finally completed in 1977. I can't really remember the first time I personally went over the bridge, but I suspect that it was with Mr. Don. I remember that he always had a book of yellow tickets on the dashboard of his truck. These were the "frequent flyer" tickets that you could buy for a discount if you frequently traveled the bridge (or nearby Harbor Tunnel).

Years later, I remember getting my first speeding ticket on the bridge. The bridge was empty and a sudden thought of "What would Steve McQueen do?" overwhelmed me. So, after slowly proceeding through the toll booth on the east side (there was no EZ-Pass back then), I accelerated towards the top of the bridge. Sitting high atop the Patapsco River, I felt like an eagle with four wheels. As I approached the peak of the bridge, I was really cruising. As I started the descent on the Curtis Bay side of the bridge, I thought about letting off of the gas. But there were no other cars in front of me, so it was full speed ahead....

When I came off of the bridge, my peripheral vison quickly transitioned from the Patapsco River to a Maryland Transportation Authority Police car. Without slamming on the brakes, I tried my best to slow down before passing the MTA cop. I thought I might have decelerated just enough to stay off of his radar. As I made that familiar glance in my rearview mirror, I realized that I didn't. He came off of the shoulder of the road with his lights a-flashin'. He clocked me at 74 mph. I was actually relived that it was "only" 74. He gave me the speeding ticket and I proceeded home at the posted speed limit.

When I was a teenager, I would occasionally party with friends at Fort Armistead Park. The fort was built at the turn of the 20th century and initially served as a coastal defense base. But it was eventually abandoned and left to the partiers and graffiti artists. The park sat just at the foot of the Key Bridge. After knocking back a cooler full of Budweiser with friends, the bridge was always a magnificent sight as it stretched across the star-lit sky. Sitting on the edge of the river, you felt like you could almost reach out at touch it.

Several years later, I found myself working at the nearby US Gypsum plant. I worked in the manufacturing (or board department) part of the plant. But occasionally I would get "invited" to help unload one of the gypsum ships. These ships would travel down from Nova Scotia and propel their way under the Key Bridge to the Baltimore plant. Baltimore is the country's #1 importer of gypsum. There's a pretty good chance that you have some of it hanging on your walls. The finished product is better known as Sheetrock.

In more recent years, I would occasionally travel over the Key Bridge to get to places like Johns Hopkins and other downtown Baltimore sites. It was a great alternative way to get there. I never quite understood it, but my phone signal would always drop midway over the bridge. 

The familiar Baltimore landmark that I traveled over at marveled at for so many years is gone. In a matter of seconds, it was reduced to a pile of metal scattered in the river below. But the image of the Francis Scott Key Bridge standing firmly in front of the morning sun is something that I'll never forget...

kw

Francis Scott Key Bridge - The People

Baltimore woke up this morning to what seemed like a surreal gut-punch. Watching the video of the Francis Scott Key Bridge collapsing into the Patapsco River below was hard to absorb. Thoughts of an early April Fool’s prank immediately entered the mind. Sadly, this wasn’t the case…

I will share Key Bridge memories and my thoughts on the community impact later. But today, I just want to take a few minutes to talk about the victims and the people working behind the scenes.

When the bridge workers started their shift last night, they probably envisioned an uneventful night. The next morning would inevitably usher in a new day as they would head home to their families. Sadly, the night took a tragic turn and several of those workers are still unaccounted for. While we never want to give up hope, optimism is fading fast. The mission is still considered a search and rescue so let’s continue to focus on that. My heart goes out to the families who are, no doubt, being emotionally tortured right now.

As usual, our first responders immediately stepped up and went into action. Rescue divers unselfishly took to the frigid waters to begin the search. I can’t imagine what goes through the minds of these brave individuals. They are thrown into what seems like a hopeless situation. But they forge ahead anyway. 

And the folks who took immediate action to stop traffic seconds before the bridge collapsed need to be commended. There’s no telling how many lives they saved. And kudos to the dispatchers who quickly lined up the appropriate response teams following the collapse.

And I must give credit to Governor Wes Moore. The man has shown the steadiness of a true leader throughout the day. With the collapsed bridge looking in the background, he has given Marylanders hope that things are going to be ok. If pressure builds diamonds, this is his moment.

And if my previous paragraph surprises anyone, fasten your seat belts. I am also commending Mayor Brandon Scott and Baltimore County Executive Johnny Olszewski. These guys were called out in the middle of the night to deal with this unfathomable catastrophe. They have spent the day settling nerves and meeting with the families of the bridge workers. Transportation Secretary, Pete Buttigieg deserves credit as well. He showed up and responded accordingly. Enough said. We can debate politics another day. Times like this call for unity.

There are so many other people working behind the scenes that often don’t get mentioned. The folks who have assembled to provide food for the first responders and rescue workers. The healthcare personnel who are available for standby counseling. The local churches who organized support services. And the overall compassion that the entire community has shown.

The travel and economic impact of this will be dealt with later. For now, let’s continue to help each other through the emotional impact….

kw