Doings of Dudley Doolittle: This is the name I use in the sometimes hilarious, outrageous, or cynical short stories posted monthly.
A fictitious name will be used in most of the stories. It is there to protect the identity of the guilty.
These true stories are over half a century old or more.
FRIENDS - DOING OF DUDLEY DOOLITTLE OCTOBER 2022 10th edition
On our maiden voyage of our Dursmirg in 1972 at Erie, Pennsylvania, we met a couple of Irish\Polish characters that became good friends.
We docked at the city pier in downtown Erie, an extension of the main street that looped around the famous sailing ship of Admiral Perry. (In the War of 1812, the ship made a decisive victory over the British in the Battle of Lake Erie).
Our new acquaintances plugged in our shore power to their there snack bar concession stand on the pier, and a friendship was made.
We had just arrived from crossing Lake Superior, passing through the Soo Locks, transiting Lake Huron, the St. Clair River, visiting many ports along the way including a week docked at Lonz Winery at Middle Bass Island in Lake Erie. Then on to Cleveland, Ohio, and then Erie, Pennsylvania. This was lovely September weather with apples and berries to harvest.
In Erie we invited our new friends over for beer aboard our boat. They loved our galley beer tap. The keg was sucked dry, and our new friends would take us the next day to Koehler Brewery to fill it up. But, first it was off to Nunzi’s restaurant for their specialty.
Tom was a retired policeman. He and his lovey wife had two sons and a daughter.
Tom was a throat cancer survivor, but he had lost his voice box. Miraculously he trained himself to speak, but only while exhaling. The doctors were amazed. Tom’s doctors told him that cigarette smoking was not the cause of his cancer. Why quit? He trained himself to smoke again by pinching the open breathing hole in his throat.
Later the family moved to Florida. We kept in contact and visited them several times. They made us feel like part of the family.
One spring day while Jane and I were returning home to St. Augustine, Florida, with our shrimp trawler Secotan, we docked at a marina near where Tom and his wife lived to fuel and called them. Tom’s wife answered and said to me “Things have changed, but we need to see you.” They drove to the marina. Tom had definitely began to waste away but still managed his big Irish smirk upon seeing us. He stoically told us that his cancer had returned and his days were numbered. He lifted up a gauze bandage covering up his throat and revealed what remained of his cancer ravaged throat. It was ghastly in the extreme. I shall never forget it.
At that moment I said to myself; “There is not enough tobacco in the entire world to make what Tom is going through worth it.” Tom’s wife continued to smoke, and they were both gone in a short time. My dad used to say; “Nothing is so bad it is not good for something.” I never touched tobacco the rest of my life.
Now I don’t smoke and I don’t chew. And I don’t go with girls who do.
INDEX TO DUDLEY DOOLITTLE STORIES
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