Winter Joke
We always found something fun to do in the winter, however, the weather could be brutal in Iowa during the coldest months. Sometimes it snowed continuously for weeks and drifts would accumulate to several feet thick throughout our yard. The afternoon sun would melt the very top layer and then the cold would freeze it again overnight. This left a crusty layer of ice over our snow-covered yard, perfect for digging forts the next morning.
The forts were more like tunnels which we dug with our gloved hands like human moles. Some tunnels led to larger meeting areas, while others dead-ended. We’d continue burrowing until we hit an obstacle and then go around it. Invariably, someone would get too close to the top edge, punching a hole in the tunnel roof. Sunlight ruined the effect, where before the tunnel had an eerie blue lighting.
Meanwhile, the city work crews scraped the highway, leaving most of the snow on the sides of the road. In several areas like downtown, though, they needed to scoop up the tons of white stuff and transfer it to dump trucks for removal. The city had built a concrete ramp, right next to the Washington Bridge. The trucks backed up to the barricade and dumped their load over the cliff onto the ice-covered river thirty feet below.
When the weather got really nasty those trucks were dumping loads day and night. Eventually, thousands of loads accumulated into a respectable mountain of snow which steadily increased in size to where the peak was just a couple of feet under the railing of the bridge. This gave me an idea…
I’d hide behind the small concrete wall near the end of the bridge, waiting for a car to come along the highway from the west—someone on a routine drive into downtown. Suddenly, I’d jump up on the concrete, walk on top of it to the first street light and then hold onto the light pole while I stepped around it. By now I’d usually have the attention of the driver as I edged out on to the narrow hand railing with my arms extended out for balance—tight rope walking across the bridge. Of course, everyone knew how high that bridge was and how solid the frozen river was beneath—very dangerous for a kid to be walking on that icy railing.
Just as the car would get within a hundred yards of me, I’d fake losing my balance, swing around facing the street, rolling my arms backwards in a wide arc trying to regain my balance. When the car got a little closer I’d fall off the bridge backwards. Many times those cars would come to a screeching halt. Some of the drivers even came running up to the railing, thinking I’d just fallen to my death. Of course, I was lying there in the soft snow on top of the mountain just beneath the railing and would wave at them innocently.
I loved to watch the reaction on their faces go from what they thought was a tragedy, to just a practical joke. More than one person threatened to jump down and slap some sense into me. Others just muttered a few cuss words and walked away. I thought it was good clean fun, for a while.
One blustery afternoon with drizzle and light snow spitting, I noticed a car coming with headlights on. I jumped up to my position, started the whole routine, timed the fall perfectly, just when the car was about twenty yards away. I heard the car’s door open and waited a few moments in gleeful anticipation, expecting someone to come rushing up all flustered.
Slowly, an older man bundled up in an overcoat and wearing a hat approached and peered over the railing at me. He wasn’t flustered. He was scowling at me.
I waved sheepishly.
He said, “You think this is funny?”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything.
He continued, “I think I know you…and I know your father too!”
Oh Oh…
He saw the look of concern spreading across my face.
“Do you think your father would approve of this behavior?”
I shook my head from side to side, quietly replying, “No…”
“I don’t either. As a matter of fact, I think you’d be in big trouble if I tell him the whole story.”
Oh no…Dad will beat the crap out of me!
The man leaned on the railing to make sure he had my attention. “How would you feel if someone crashed their car being distracted by you?”
I lay there thinking about what he’d just said and grimaced. “What?”
“How would you feel if that person got killed crashing their car into this bridge?”
Wow? That never crossed my mind!
I answered, “I was just playing…”
He interrupted. “How would you feel if that person hit another car and killed its passengers?”
This guy wasn’t letting up. He was getting more angry by the minute. I meekly answered him, “I didn’t mean any harm. I’m sorry.”
“Well, you should be!”
“I won’t do it anymore, I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, since you’ve promised not to do it anymore, I might not tell your father. It really is dangerous, you know.”
He calmly turned around and left. I heard his car door open again and close. He continued his drive across the bridge. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I wonder if he’ll still tell Dad?
I continued to ponder this for a few more minutes. This game wasn’t so much fun after all.
Does that guy really know Dad?
I reached up and pulled myself back onto the railing. I didn’t want to go back to the house in case the guy did call Dad. Doing it just one more time crossed my mind.
No, not worth it. Damn! What else can I find to do out here today?