Man of Steel

                I know that you are not going to believe this story, but I promise it is a true account.  This tale is about the man that we affectingly refer to as the “man of steel.”  He is my grandfather who is alive and well against all odds and this is the tale he has passed down to his family.  Growing up in rural New Mexico he was the 23^rd child and the youngest of his family; the runt.  He was one of three brothers, the remainder of the siblings all female.  Yes, he was spoiled and most say that he still is.  Come to think of it, this is probably why he got into so much trouble throughout his life.        

                The trouble all began one day when he was only ten.  He was playing in the street, the only street in his village.  Actually, it was just a dirt path that was traveled mostly on foot.  However, on this particular day a Model-T Ford just happened to be roaring through; and you know how fast those go, probably a good five miles a hour or so.  Anyway, it was the only car in town on the only road in town and my dear old granddaddy was run down.  He tells that he was thrown into the air and that he landed on his hick “noggin.”  If you knew him you would know that the thick “noggin” part to be true.  Family knows this statement to be true because my grandmother always says that she has to take a hammer and nails to get anything into that thick head of his.

                He tells that there were actual rocks in his skull, some imbedded in this grey matter and we all agree that those rocks are there.  In fact, grandma after sixty years of marriage says that his head is still full of rocks and she should know.  Anyway, he was hurt bad enough that he spent a great deal of time recovering; in fact he had to go back to the first grade.  Can you imagine being ten years old in the first grade again, what bummer!  His road to recovery was slow and involved but the entire village pitched in to help his family, the nuns cared for him when he was released from the doctor’s care and many of the towns’ people helped him to regain his memories and basic mental skills.

                As far as the family knows he had full recovery, except for the rocks in his brain.  Now this was just his first encounter with the modern world.  His second was when he was a young married man living in southern California on a chicken farm.  One day while tending to his land he took another ride on a kind of make shift Ferris wheel.  Granddaddy, our “man of steel” was riding along on his tractor when he heard a strange sound, so of course, he investigated.  A little too closely some would say because he headed over the machine head first.  Once again he found himself encountering a mother vehicle.  He went under;  the large tractor wheels took him down.  He tells us that he rolled into the soft soil and hung on to the rubber for dear life and came out and landed on his feet.  Yes, an unbelievable tale but true.  He suffered only minor injuries this time but grandmas gave him those injuries for being so careless, just kidding.  He was only rattled from this carless ride.

                No, his carelessness did not end there.  Years later, when he moved to Albuquerque he acquired a job with the city driving a city bus.  I know he should have never been behind a wheel, in front of a wheel or under a wheel ever again, but he insisted.  In fact, he spent a great deal of time behind the wheel in his adult life.  He drove generals in the war and spent time driving big rigs, but I deviate.  It happened when he was attempting to begin his morning route; he had yet another encounter with a moving behicle.  This time he only took the entire bus through the huge garage door and into all the parked buses inside.  Needless to say, he lost that job but he wasn’t hurt.  Now grandpa should of never been left alone again, but he got away from grandma again six years ago.

                He was eighty two  and this time he was not driving, he was walking through a busy intersection in Albuquerqued headed to McDonalds for his morning coffee.  A ritual that grandma despised.  None the less, he headed out early to meet with his coffee buddies at “Micky D’s” and he never made it.  Yes, it happened again!  In the crosswalk he was struck down in his prime by an Albuquerque school bus.  Yes, you read it right, a school bus stuck him sideways and he became a football sailing through the air.  News reports said that he flew fifteen feet, could have been a field goal.  My granddaddy again landed on his thick “noggin.”  He suffered many bruises, a few scratches and he had the worst case of road rah that I have ever seen.  I won’t go into details but our “man of steel” survived and with not a broken bone to speak of because his “noggin” took the brunt of the fall, thankfully.  We all rushed to his side, but he didn’t know us, he didn’t even know what a spoon was and yes grandma was mad.

                She was mad about having to start training him all over again but she did it and he is fine, at least until next time.  So, if you see a little old Spanish man walking on the street please avoid him at all cost.  Swerve your car into the next lane, turn and go out of your way or just stop and put your car in reverse and punch it out of there, because you don’t want to encounter the “man of steel.”