the Birth of a Cause
It was a very cool morning, clear, crisp and the thoughts of going after an Alaskan bear was all I had on my mind. The days were getting longer and the call of the wild was raging in my blood. I was stationed in Anchorage. I had joined the Army after spending four years in the Navy. I did not enjoy the Navy and I opted to move on. It was a great deal better for me, in the Army. I had been in Fort Knox, KY. After almost 2 years I was able to get transferred to the one place I felt I really wanted to see, beautiful Alaska.
It was the second day of May 1977, the day that changed my life forever. I was taking the scopes off the rifles I was to use on a bear hunt. Plans change and I was going a different direction. It was a routine thing for me to have a gun or two in my truck. This fateful day, I had removed the two rifles and taken them into the house. No one was more surprised than I, even after a hasty check of the weapons, to hear a report and feel the burning pain. The shot had entered my foot, and nearly cut it off. The next few minuets were like a month. I tried to get help on the CB radio. It was the main source of communication between the world and myself. I did not even think of the phone. Someone on the other end told me to call 911 for help. I did not have a phone near me and did not know what to do. Finally I pulled myself over to the phone; it was high on the wall. I couldn't reach it. What do I do? I finally got it and dialed 0. The operator was insistent on my giving her my name, all I could say was "I'm the little red wagon!" That was my CB handle and I could not give her my name or address. She understood that this was an emergency, she traced the call as I dropped the phone to the floor. I somehow scooted to the front door where I called for my neighbor. She was in the yard and came over to see me lying there bleeding and about to pass out. She ran and called 911, and by that time the operator had traced the call and sent the police and an ambulance.
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