A Good Friend

This story is about JC a good friend; we worked together for many years. We worked in the Phase Dock inspecting B-52’s; he was about four years younger than I. He was an only child so when I first met him he drove me half crazy with his stories about Cougars, he was Ford Nut, and I wanted nothing to do with Ford My father always drove GM. But, as it happens slowly the barriers broke down and we became great friends and a great team. We worked together on the job and off. One night he was working on a B-5 maintenance stand he was putting some screws in a sailboat panel and they were fitting him; he was pushing with all of might when all of sudden the rail he was leaning against came loose on one end and swung free, he pivoted with the rail and fell about ten feet to the ground (a concrete floor), he landed on his feet in a walking stride. He was so shaken by the experience he turned and kicked the stand and hurt his toe. I laughed hysterically, which made him even madder, “it’s not funny,” he said, “oh yes it is,” I retorted. He started to boil, he could have been killed, and I was laughing. I said, “anyone but you would be a bloody mess if not crippled for life, or worse, but not you, you fall backwards feet to ground and somehow manage to pivot yourself around and top it off you landed on your feet in walking stride and never even burned your feet, who are you,” “Get Smart or Inspector Clauseau,” if that isn’t enough you turn around and hurt you toe by kicking the stand. Then he realized just lucky he was and just how funny it really was.
JC was often doing things that had to be seen to believe. I think my favorite story is when he was sealing something and slopped the sealant on a putty knife and this miserable stuff would not come off. He came to me as he often did for the solution, in the case the answer was a solution, hydraulic fluid. He didn’t want to waste a new can just to clean a tool, so once again it was my job to provide the answer. How about the drum of used hydraulic fluid on the other side of hangar? So off he went smiling and happy once more, after a short while I noticed he had not returned from a simple task, so I went on a manhunt, I found him fumbling around the oil drum, “what happened?” I asked. The fluid was too low in the drum to get wet so instead of using safety wire like I told him he decided to string together the small leftovers from filter changes, as he dipped the putty knife in the drum I said, “You’d better be careful with that,” he laughed as pulled it out, the sealant needed more time so he bobbed it up and down and said, “ka-blup,” as he pulled it out, huh no putty knife, now I laughed, I ain’t funny (I realize this bad English but it’s absolute what he said), oh yes it is, and I howled even harder. He was very concerned about explaining how he lost a tool! Here I go again, go to Tanker Phase and get their magnet, I bailed him out again, he came back with magnet and each time he dropped the magnet with SAFETY WIRE attached it would “CLANG” right to the side of the drum, he would fish it back out, after several failed attempts even throwing hard into the opening – no luck. He went to get something to make his life easier, I cannot recall what it was, but while he was gone I put the bung on the drum and tipped it to the side nearest the opening so the putty knife would be directly below it and I used I removable handle (that we used a dipstick) to lower the magnet and within a minute I pulled out the putty knife, moments later he returned I was standing with putty knife in plain sight and he began once again to retrieve it, he made a couple more valiant attempts and asked are you have any luck with putty knife practically under his nose. He finally noticed as he looked at me while was pulling the magnet out. He just could believe his eyes – I had to explain how I did it.
He was always doing things that would make me laugh and had to bail him out!