Standoff ends with arrest in Lemoore YourCentralValley.com

Rising look to avenge an early season draw, 0-0 at Casino Arizona Field. PRFC were dominant, out-shooting FFC 23-2 and holding a man advantage for most of the game. Fresno is looking to clinch their first playoff spot in franchise history and have had a quiet but consistently solid season backed by a solid defense. Potential Western Conference Final preview and a tough test to continue the streak. Good luck boys and go PRFC!

Hello mama, it’s June Bug.
I got no real idea how this might come to you, but by post or freight or law man’s hand, you should know it’s me this time. I read in the paper that folks been writin’ you on occasion saying they’re me and apologizing for all the mischief I got up to. I ain’t written to you but once since I left home and that’s right now. That reminds me of the sign up at Busser’s, one that hanged over the stationary? “If you’re going to write, write right!” Were they selling Bics, or what? I can’t remember.
Busser’s is where this all started but of course you know that. In fact, I presume you might know a whole lot more of this than when I left back in spring. Delilah is like to have told you how I met Todd — Mr. Lightnin’ T Daniels of national infamy — when he drove that fine Cadillac up to Busser’s for some ice cream. Maybe you’ve talked to the others, and they’ll have lied if they said I didn’t want to go with him.
I guess that’s all true, but what they didn’t tell you, couldn’t tell you, is that I saw Todd for the first time a week earlier. He was working up at the Targrady pits when we went up there on a field trip so the boys could see how they were going to make their money one day and the girls would know how hard their men were going to be worked. He smiled at Carla Weathers, not me, when we walked past him in a group, even tossed her a lump of furnace coal and told here there was more where that came from. She blushed, but so did I. I wanted a man like that to look at me.
Since I left Arson County, I’ve found that there are a lot of men like Todd, especially in the big cities. But just six long months ago I thought there couldn’t be a second man like him on earth. He was tall, bristling with muscle and sweaty charm, and polished smooth and clean looking despite the grime on his coveralls. He didn’t look like the fat, broken coal miners or their simple, soon-to-be-broken sons. He didn’t look either like the bloated, soft-handed bankers or turned-out souses that came up from the railyard for church some Sundays.
No, he was a man of his own making. He was smoking that first time, cloistered in a little taped-off area and leaning against a broken rail cart. He’d tied his coverall shoulders around his waist and his grimy undershirt clung to his torso like cellophane. Maybe every girl saw him. Maybe it was only me. I committed him to memory the way I had started doing with certain men, certain I’d never see him again. I was wrong, of course.
He came up to Busser’s a week later in a casual sort of hurry. Nonchalant but rushed, sauntering into the place and ordering an ice cream milkshake with a cherry on top. Mr. Pushkin gave him a mean look, but started smiling all the same when he dropped cash on the counter. Real hard currency, big bills like I’d never seen a man his age carrying before. He rested his back on the bar to drink and look around, his legs splayed out before him.
He had thick heels on the black leather boots that left dark scuffs on the floor. His jeans were tight, very tight for a man, and ended in a broad black belt at his hips. He had a white t-shirt on above that, also tight, and black leather jacket. He looked like an absolute criminal, and when he ran his hands through his hair, my God mother. I just didn’t know what to do with myself.
He doesn’t look like that now, as you might guess. By the time you get this letter, I suppose what beauty Todd had known on this earth will have all but fled him. But at that moment he looked like an angel. One of the kind that wasn’t afraid to tell God what he thought then and again, and I wanted him to fall into my arms.
He finished his drink and I followed him outside. The other girls, Delilah, Ethel, Mary, they squealed and urged me to come sit back down. None of them would have ever had the courage to follow him out that door, none of them did. They’ll live long lives, I suppose, telling their children about me as a cautionary tale. But I didn’t care what they had to say then and I certainly don’t now.
We talked by his car. I fixed my blue eyes on him they way I’d been practicing in the mirror, trying my best to look like one of them girls in the cigarette ads. It must have worked, cause he stopped telling me to get lost and got lost himself, running his hand through that hair and leaning against the car. I told him he had bad posture, and asked him real slow that if that car wasn’t there, what else would he like to lean against? You should have seen the look on his face.
Todd likes to try looking like a wolf. He licks his teeth, is the most noticeable thing, and I’d never seen a wolf before he took me to the zoo. That’s where I first made that connection. He could almost bristle that big jacket of his like a pelt, and he made himself stand on his toes, like he might spring at any minute. But he was a puppy on the worst of days. You and me, mama, we know about real wolves, don’t we?
He told me he liked the way I talked to him and I asked what he meant. He told me I shouldn’t play with fire and I told him I didn’t play with fire, but that my daddy let me use matches sometimes. He laughed and asked me what it was I was after and I told him he had a nice car. He asked if I wanted a ride. I said yes.
We drove out by the high school and he tried to put the moves on me. I said no and we drove some more. Up north into Carbones County, up past Gun Cotton and to the highway, then back down through roads I’d never seen before. Past little hamlets and nowhere towns full of staring black or white faces and the occasional house set into hillside where nobody could possibly get to it. He got quiet as we drove.
I asked him if he was mad I turned him down and he laughed and said that wasn’t it. He told me he wasn’t from West Virginia and had to be leaving soon. Real soon. I asked him how soon and he said tomorrow. Then he told me I might not want to be around Busser’s around noon and I asked why, though it’s obvious to anybody now what he meant by that. Then he dropped me off.
You were awful mad at me when I got home. Slapped me on the face as I recall, and hard too. I cried for you the way you like and ran in to daddy. He shushed me and patted me on the head. How is he now? Are you done with him? Is it time to move on again or are your wings too old to catch the wind? I’ll never know the answers to those questions, but I have my suspicions and they help me sleep nights.
I went to sleep and you woke me up in the middle of the night. I remember what you told me, though I won’t commit that hatefulness to paper. And you squeezed me where it hurts, twisted and pinched the way you do and told me not to ruin things the way I always did. You reminded me of what daddy had to lose for us to live there, what my life meant to the people around me.
And the second you left that room I packed what I thought I’d need in my backpack. I hid my school things under the bed, where I’m sure you eventually found them. I ate breakfast full knowing I was about to leave Blunt, West Virginia for the last time. To leave you for good. We had eggs. I told you they were delicious.
You rode me to school that day. I thought you’d figured me out, having done that same shuffle and ride a dozen or more times just in my lifetime. But you didn’t suspect a thing, not from your dear little June Bug. You sat there in the Packard, gripping the steering wheel with your prim white driving gloves, hair up underneath one of those silk headwraps you started wearing in Cincinnati.
You could have told me you loved me, any number of nice motherly things I see women say to their children in the movies Todd eventually took me to. But you just gave me your typical sermon, the one I always got after one of your late night visits. And you told me I was old now, old enough to be a threat if I didn’t watch myself. You reminded me I could be replaced. You warned me I better behave myself.
I watched you drive off down the dirt road that led to that dismal one-room learning shack they called a school and that was the last I ever saw of you. In person at least. I saw you in the news a few weeks later, crying on the front page of the Charleston Independent-Star and asking me to come home. Then a couple months after that on the New York Times, crying and telling me you better never see me again. That headline read, “Mother mourns recalcitrant daughter.” It made me smile.
I didn’t even go inside the school. Some of the other girls would eventually tell the police they saw me walking “with determination” toward some other destination. I actually stopped and talked with Debby Marks, and asked her to cover for me until the afternoon, just in case. I’ve never seen that detail in any newspapers so I guess she kept that little tidbit to herself. Smart girl.
I sat alone in Busser’s until noon, and he showed like clockwork. The shiny red Cadillac pulled up at the far end of the corner lot and he sat there alone, his eyes blocked by square black sunglasses. The armored truck pulled up a second later and I figured out the score right then and there.
The truck had the big Walther Hi-Sec Transportation Inc. logo down the side. Any kid in the valley could tell you that was the payroll wagon, here to bring cash down to the pit bank for payday. You take into account all the money they needed to pay the workers and make purchases, and there was maybe $20,000 in there. At least that’s what Todd thought.
A paunchy old man came in wearing a Walther Security uniform and Todd came in behind him. Now, things have been changed up a bit in the papers. Those newspapermen like to make a lot of interesting additions to the stories about us, particularly this one, painting Todd as some smooth Lothario who just talked people out of their money. Once we were famous, sure, that actually happened a couple times. But this time he was nervous. Scared even.
He smiled under those beetle-shell glasses and put the gun against the security man’s head. Told him to open up the back of the truck. And you know what that security man did? He said no! Honestly and truthfully, that old man, with his moustache and bent back, told big Lightnin’ T Daniels no and went back to his coffee. Todd might have just turned and walked out if not for me.
I screamed and ran to him, getting the attention of the few old men sitting around taking their coffee. Even Mr. Pushkin dropped his skillet in the kitchen and ran out. I wasn’t letting anybody ruin this for me. I jumped between Todd and the old man, pressing against the big automatic pistol with my chest so my breasts showed full and large to either side of it. He swallowed. I felt his insecurity.
I begged him not to hurt the old man, I’d do anything, just drop the gun and walk away. He recognized me and asked under his breath what I thought I was doing, and I yelled for him to take me instead at the top of his lungs. He grinned and pulled me close to him. I twirled into his arms like a dancer, relishing the warmth of his forearm against my cheek even as he pressed the automatic to my temple.
That display made short work of the Busser’s patrons. They begged Todd not to hurt me and I worked up some tears and hollered about how he was just confused. The old security guard looked at the other patrons like they’d lost their minds. I suppose they had. They almost tore the man’s clothes off trying to get at his keys so the big, bad man in the leather jacket wouldn’t hurt the pretty blonde.
It was like a dream how fast we went from the inside of that diner to driving down I-64 at nearly twice the speed limit, laughing like crazy. He didn’t even want to let me in the car with him at first, but I convinced him the locals were all heavily armed and would shoot him to pieces the second I left him. By the time we reached Charleston he didn’t even care. We counted the money from the heist in a filthy motel on the edge of town. Then we had sex.
It wasn’t wonderful, but I loved it all the same. The ecstasy of my escape from Blunt clouded over the meager pain of his entrance. I loved the smell of him, his sweat covering my chest and stomach. The way his arms crushed my body against his. It ended almost as quickly as it had began, and I let him finish where I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t care. I was free.
I slept in his arms on a pile of ill-gotten money. More cash than I’d seen in my whole life, $10,500. That was the first night of honest sleep I’d had in maybe my whole life, and the first time I hadn’t dreamed of little Trixie since that night by the old woodshed last fall. Little Trixie not-my-sister, as you might say.
Of course I don’t have to remind you of that, you were there. Or do I? I certainly haven’t seen you mention it all those wonderful little stories you’re in. I cut each one I find out of whatever paper and keep them in a small card box Todd bought me in Arizona. It has a turquoise June bug on the lid, which he thought was adorable. He’d bought himself one just like it that holds a bent, blackened spoon, some rubber tubing, and an oversized eye-dropper with a needle tied to the end.
My big, beautiful man had a bad habit. I was surprised how fast we could go through all that money, money you could live off for a year gone in just a few weeks. But he spent it on me too, buying me books and clothes and nice dinners at places where people spent big cash on little plates. He made new friends and lost them every week, even tried to lose me a couple times, but after a while he knew that I was his and, more importantly, that he was mine.
We traveled across the states, pulling that exact same heist we’d thrown together on the spot a Busser’s at every stop. I change my hair color after the papers started reporting on me, going from blonde to red and finally to black. I tried brown for a second but it reminded Todd of his mother and he wouldn’t touch me until I changed it. He talked about her, his mother, quite often.
I lied about you. I said you were great, real decent. I convinced him on that first sweaty night in Charleston that he’d left those nasty bruises on my nipples. I was just a fragile thing. He was too big and too rough. I also convinced him I wasn’t a virgin, because I couldn’t tell him that you’d broken me when I was twelve, kicking me between the legs because I wouldn’t stop crying. Because Brian not-my-brother and Pauline not-my-sister had kept calling my name as the car slipped beneath the waves at Glass Shard.
I never told him about any of that. About Kevin, or Julienne, or Matthew, or Ronald, or Victor, or Samuel, or Michelle, or Rebekah. The not-my-sisters and not-my-brothers I wasn’t allowed to mourn, and the parade of daddies who were only ever to be called daddy and not Mr. Kelso, or Mr. Valentine, or father, or papa, or dad. When we traveled through Cincinnati, Gary, Decatur, Chicago, and Pierre, I told him I’d never been to any of those places. All the while I glanced out the windows of our stolen cars, looking for that riverbank, that ash pile, that abandoned lot. I never told him how those road trips made me feel like my mother, a sparrow on the wing, looking for a new nest. And I never told him about Trixie.
Our heists worked the way we’d been doing them until we reached a little bank on the outskirts of Fresno. I’d always gone inside first, scouting the place out on the pretense of opening a checking account. Then I’d be the hostage when Todd stormed in and demanded the money. But this time someone was waiting for us.
The counter girl acted strangely when she saw me, and I didn’t notice anything off about the way she looked down at her lap. Now I know she was looking at my picture. She must have pressed a button or something, because a man swept up behind me and whispered in my ear that I better behave. He told me I needed to tell Mr. Daniels to surrender as soon as he walked in the door. I started crying real loud.
Customers walked over and started asking the man what he was doing, then he cuffed me on the back of the head and told me to shut up. Some Dudley Do Right took that chance to run up and deck him one, knocked the big man out cold. I thanked him and ran off in hysterics.
I found Todd in the same alley where we’d parked. There was a man at the head of the alley where Todd couldn’t see, facing away from me with a gun sticking out of his sport coat. Clean and simple, I walked up, slipped his gun out of its holster, and shot that man to death. Then I put his gun in my purse and walked into the alley, where Todd was standing with his own gun out. We hopped in the car and I explained things as we drove like mad out of California and across the Rockies.
That was at the height of summer, though I’m sure you know all about that. “Dragnet: Federal agent shot dead by Lightning T Daniels and the June Bug.” That’s what the papers started calling us around that time. The first time I ever saw those names was in the Des Moines Register. I clipped the article out and put it in the box with the little turquoise June bug on the lid. The fame and the pressure got to Todd and he started getting rough in bed, doing all those awful things to me that you used to do, the poking and prodding and twisting. But it felt so good when he did it.
He would get sullen afterward sometimes and tell me I was too beautiful for things like that. He said he was debasing me, that I was a flower and if he plucked me I’d wilt. I told him I was his June Bug and the only thing he had to do was keep me from flying away. He liked that.
And he was a good man, despite how we made our living. He didn’t yell or cheat or hit me, with a single exception on each account. The cheating I wouldn’t even call cheating. You see, pickings got slim after the botched job in Fresno. Cops were looking for us like never before, and we couldn’t stay in the same place long, much less cause a stink with a big heist. So we did little things, robbing underground casinos and junk dealers.
I carried a gun then. The agent’s mean little .38 special, in fact. I don’t know what such a big man had needed with such a tiny gun, but it fit my tiny hands perfectly. I killed three men with that gun, the agent, another, and one I’ll tell you about right here. His name was Buggy and he was something of a hot shot, for South Dakota.
Buggy knew Todd from a stint in a Minnesota prison Todd didn’t talk about much, and apparently they owed each other a host of favors. Buggy had everything Todd needed that wasn’t me, most of which came folded up in little paper squares and dollar bills. Todd started doing small jobs for Buggy, enforcing, running packages, and he’d leave me cooped up in a dingy motel for days at a time. I got sick of that real fast. It reminded me of Blunt, and all the little cages you kept me in before Blunt.
I went out on the streets and found Buggy’s place by dropping his name here and there. By the time I found the dive he operated out of, a converted speakeasy with big steel shutters over the door, Buggy knew I was coming. Buggy was a nasty guy, as his name suggests, and he had a bad habit of spectacle. He was the biggest show, the only show, in town and he made sure people knew he was important. He dressed like a mobster and let on that he knew a few made guys, though he never quite had the courage to call any by name. His suits were new and as nicely tailored as you could get out there in the sticks, but they did nothing to shape up the nasty little man. He had a sloppy gut and breasts that disturbed the spread of his lapels, along with a stringy black comb-over and a thick, warty nose.
He intercepted me just inside the door and told me where to find Todd. I had figured he wanted to keep Todd around in town, to fold him into the crew for the respect Lightning T Daniels’ name would bring. But I hated South Dakota, and that nasty little town and I wanted to leave. When I left, Todd would go with me, but only if we were still together. Buggy didn’t want that to happen.
He led me to the main room, where Todd lay back on a couch almost completely off his mind from the stuff. A pretty girl, red-haired and about my age, was on her knees in front of him, her mouth where you’d expect. I sighed as Buggy started on some rant about men these days and how he never expected he’d walk in on something this shocking. Todd’s eyes took a few seconds to focus on me, and he started trying to push the girl off him.
I think Buggy expected me to start crying and run out of that grungy hole in the ground, or maybe to just fall apart right then and there. The only thing I’m sure of is that the greasy little pusher man had a low opinion of woman. I saw his point and made him a counter-argument.
The girl, undoubtedly in on the whole thing, looked up at me with smirk on her face, almost daring me to do something. I went over to Todd, still so beautiful in his sweating delirium, and pulled his switchblade out of the interior pocket of his leather jacket. Dull recognition dawned on the redheaded girl’s face just a second too late, as I grabbed a fistful of that hair and sprang the blade open. I cut her just twice, long strokes that made an X on her pretty young face.
They didn’t bleed until I pushed her away, then they wouldn’t stop bleeding. She blindly ran from the room, screaming for somebody to help her. Buggy jumped to his feet and started toward me, cursing. I pulled the federal agent’s snug little .38 out of my purse and shot him through his ugly nose. The bullet pulled off the back part of his skull and everything inside spilled out when he hit the ground.
I remembered Trixie right then, her skull coming apart in the dark of the woodshed. Her beautiful face, so like a tiny angel’s, ghastly and malformed in the smoky light of your kerosene lantern. Dirt on my hands. Blood underneath my nails. Dogs in the woods and your harsh whisper telling me they couldn’t smell her, they wouldn’t smell her. Keep digging June. Keep digging.
I’m still digging that hole now, gonna’ keep digging until I hit bottom. Until I get down low enough to pull the sides in over me like a blanket. There may be blood and heat at the end, I know, the smell of pistol smoke and burning flesh. But before I go to hell I’ll smell that rich West Virginia earth, and I’ll feel splintered wood in my hands as I work, work, work that shovel.
She called me Sissy, God damn you. She called me Sissy.
The security man from the front came down with a pump action shotgun in his hand. I didn’t kill him, just asked him if he’d ever been shot before, and pointed at what was left of Buggy. I told him neither of us were going to miss at this distance and he agreed, dropping the shotgun. I promised not to shoot him or anybody else if they filled a tablecloth with money and drugs and didn’t try anything funny. Nobody did, so I kept my promise.
Todd never apologized for the way I found him down there. He refused to even talk to me even until we were in St. Louis. He had another friend down there, Luther, who was a much better friend than Buggy. Luther took half of what we had off our hands in exchange for the keys to a room in a northside tenement. Todd got drunk the first night and slapped me when I wasn’t expecting it.
I fell on the ground and started crying in earnest. I’d never been hit by anybody I cared about before. And it hurt so much worse than when you hit me.
He told me I was crazy and who did I think I was? He told me he didn’t know who I was anymore and asked what right I had to be involving myself in his personal matters. He told me that just because we slept together — he used a different phrase — that didn’t mean I had any right to pry into his affairs. I told him I was pregnant and he took a seat on the edge of the bed. His fine dark hair was in disarray. He apologized to me and told me he’d do whatever he could, but his heart wasn’t in it. He sounded tired, wrung out. I knew then he was probably going to leave me, and started concocting ways to keep him. Then I thought of you, and all my daddies across this great, God-fearing nation and I stopped. I really was, still am, pregnant. Rest assured, you’ll never see the child.
Todd got himself shot a couple weeks later. He burned through all the rest of our money and the drugs we’d stolen from Buggy in the days after I told him I was carrying his child. Luther set him up with a crew knocking over drug dealers in town. None of them knew he was the famous Lightnin’ T Daniels from the paper, and none of them would have cared if they did.
I don’t know the specifics of how he got hurt. I do know he showed up to the job almost too high to stand on his own. I know they relied on him to do something and he failed to do it. And I know it took some special intervention from Luther to keep the crew from putting a bullet in Todd’s head right then and there.
He was shot by a small caliber handgun. The bullet went in his thigh and bounced around inside his pelvis, leaving a half a dozen tiny tunnels. The insides of his hips now looked just like the insides of the bituminous coal mine where I first saw him, lean and pretty and leaning up against that ruined old mine cart. I had him take his pants off to show me. Blood trickled from the tiny entry wound, but everything from the bottom of his thighs to the top of his stomach was swollen and purple.
He told me he needed to go to a doctor and begged for me to get him some stuff, anything to take the edge off. I told him that wasn’t possible, we were near out of money and he’d be arrested if I took him to a hospital. He told me to do anything I could, he didn’t care what, he just needed another hit. It hurt too bad. It was killing him. Then he looked at me and told me I was killing him.
I pawned the turquoise boxes he’d bought us, most of our clothes, and the two pistols he’d acquired since we left West Virginia. Blunt felt so far away then, sitting in the dark with him dying beside me in the stale autumn heat. I spent all the money on drugs, a bit of food, and a straight razor so I could shave him, which I did. Luther stopped by about a week after Todd had been shot.
He stood in the door, repulsed by some smell I hadn’t noticed. He asked me what I was going to do, what I expected to happen. I told him I didn’t know. Todd wasn’t going to get better, and if he did he’d just leave me anyway. In the depths of his eyes, behind the drugs and the pain, I saw fear when he looked at me. No hint of love or longing, no apology for how he’d treated me, just fear, and a dull sort of hate.
Luther reached out and took my hand then, and I knew what options I had. I knew Luther wanted me, my body, terribly. I was still young and beautiful, and my pregnancy was little more than a slight bump that any dress could hide. Would he accept a child as part of my being there? I knew he would. I knew I could make him want that child as much as me, that I could sell him the Golden Gate Bridge with that hot piece of hellfire between my legs.
And I thought of you. I thought of you and a long line of daddies, stretching out across the Midwest and back into my history to the first one, the real daddy who put me on you like a curse. I thought of raising a pretty little version of myself with Todd’s hair and big blue eyes, and all the daddies I could give her. All the not-her-sisters and not-her-brothers who’d have to make way once we entered the nest. Luther kept talking while I thought of that line of violence and tainted love that had brought me to Blunt, that had shot me out of West Virginia like a cannon. That had torn my heart and soul to blackened pieces before I ever became a woman. And I thought of Trixie, who’d told me how much she’d wanted a sister. Who read so well despite how young she was, and who trusted you when you took her to play hide and seek in the woods around midnight. Who cried and called me Sissy when you told me to take that ax and “earn your keep you ungrateful little bitch.”
Luther told me he’d treat me right and ran his hand over my cheek. I looked up at him like I’d looked at Todd all those many months ago, and I asked him, yeah? Would he. And I kissed him. And he told me the cops already knew where we were, that he’d tipped them off to get a friend of his out of a bind over the trouble Todd had caused. That I really didn’t have a choice anyway.
I told him that was fine by me, because Todd was weak and a junkie to boot, and he didn’t know how to treat a lady. And I asked Luther did he? Did he know how to treat a lady? Could he show me? He asked if Todd was still there and I said yeah, he was, but he was junked out and wouldn’t wake up for hours. I told him we had a little space atop the table just inside the door, that I didn’t care about being comfortable ‘cause it’d been so long since I had a real man.
Luther smiled at me and shut the door behind him. I pulled him over to the table and sat and wrapped my legs around him, pulling him close. Our tongues met in my mouth and then his. He didn’t notice me slide the federal agent’s tiny little pistol out of my purse and put it behind his ear. He squeezed my breast and then bit my lip so hard it bled when I shot him, tearing away a thin piece of skin when he fell away.
My ears rang. Todd lay in a daze on the mattress. I went over to him anyway and lay down beside him. I told him I loved him and I meant it. And I told him he was the best thing that’d ever happened to me, and that was true too. I curled up beside him and slept one last time, never smelling the rot setting into the wounds on his stomach or the filth he was leaving behind in the bed.
I woke and started writing this. I started this morning and now it’s almost midnight. The moon is up outside and the windows are open. The breeze feels nice. Warm, despite the brown and gold leaves on the trees outside. There aren’t many of them in this neighborhood, but the ones I can see are so very beautiful.
There are men down on the street, and I know they aren’t from the neighborhood because they’re mostly white and have good posture and comfortable shoes. If they arrested me, I bet I could talk my way out of a life sentence. The papers have blamed everything on Todd, because he’s a man and nobody believes women can do evil things, not really. That if they do evil things, they’re trite and pointless. Crimes of passion, neglect, or stupidity.
Understand that everybody that has died on our sojourn across America is dead because I was sick of getting ice cream at Busser’s. Because I wanted more than the quiet security the men you preyed on provided. Because I couldn’t handle the guilt of what I did to Trixie, or face the consequences like an honest human being.
I could have ended this thing whenever I wanted to, and I didn’t.
I hate you, mama. I hate you like you wouldn’t believe. Or maybe you do. You never mention your mama and I can only imagine she was just like us, or at least bad enough you turned out the way you did. I’m not writing you to say goodbye, I’m writing you so that you know I did this all on my own. I did it for me, because I’m my own bad person, not because you corrupted me or because Todd drove me crazy. I did this. All of this. And I did it for me.
And if anybody else happens to read this, you should understand that Todd was the innocent bystander. Tell his mama or papa or whoever is still around that he got wrapped up with a bad woman who twisted him around her finger like a piece of taffy. That he could have walked away from that armored car or me or this life at any time if I’d have let him. And he wanted to. But I didn’t.
And, if anybody else happens to read this, Trixie Macintosh is buried in a busted old woodshed off Rural Route 5 outside of Blunt, West Virginia. She was the most wonderful little girl and I killed her with an ax because I’m a coward.
I’m going to finish this letter now, and leave it up here on this table. Then I’m going to take Todd down off the bed and bring him by the window. The breeze is nice and I want him to feel that before I take that straight razor I bought and send us both to hell. And God I hope there is a hell, ‘cause if there is then there is a heaven. And if there is, that Trixie will be up there with her mama, living some sort of happiness.
And that when you die, you’ll be down here with me.
-June Bug
westsidefairytales.com

2017: Some deep tropical moisture associated with a fairly strong upper level shortwave pushed into central California on September 11th and produced a severe thunderstorm outbreak during the afternoon and evening. Numerous reports of downburst winds exceeding 60 mph were reported and the impacts form these thunderstorms included downed power lines, damage to roofs; and large objects being knocked over and damaged. Rainfall amounts were generally a quarter of an inch or less with a few locations in the Southern Sierra Nevada and Tehachapi Mountains receiving between a quarter inch and a half inch of rain. APRS station 5WSW Firebaugh reported a 59 mph wind gust from a thunderstorm. A dairy farm south of Hanford had several barns with extensive roof damage from thunderstorm winds.
8 telephone poles were downed on Jackson Ave. near 9th Ave. south of Hanford.
A tree fell onto a vehicle near the intersection of 13th Ave. and Houston Ave. near Hanford.
A microburst downed 30 powerlines in Mendota.
8 miles west of Caruthers a chicken barn was blown down by thunderstorm downburst outflow winds.
In Corcoran thunderstorm winds produced damage to a house and snapped several trees. Beams from a wood fence were snapped from from concrete support and shingles were blown off of a roof.
There were reports of nickel-sized hail in Corcoran. There were several trees down on northbound State Route 99 just south of the State Route 190 interchange.
Lightning struck a house near Hanford High School. A Weather Service forecaster providing onsite support at the Pier Fire reported penny sized hail at Pierpoint Springs.
2012: A stationary thunderstorm brought persistent, heavy rain to Mecca.
3"-5" of rain fell in just a couple hours (more than a year’s worth). Floodwaters damaged a school, a mobile home park and several orchards.
2012: On the afternoon of September 11, 2012 thunderstorms producing heavy rainfall moved across much of the Las Vegas Valley. Rainfall rates of a half-inch to nearly eight-tenths of an inch in 30 minutes resulted in significant and in some cases devastating flash flooding. A total of 1.18" of rain was measured by the automated weather station at McCarran International Airport. This set an all-time record for a calendar day for the month of September. Automated weather stations operated by the Clark County Regional Flood Control District as well as Mesonet weather stations, cooperative observers and spotter reports showed the heaviest rain fell in several areas. 1"-2" of rain fell in northern portions of Summerlin, NV, in and just south of downtown Las Vegas, NV, along Flamingo Road and Tropicana Avenue from near Interstate 15 to near Mojave Road and in southeast Henderson, NV. The highest total reported was 2.09" at an automated station operated by the Clark County Regional Flood Control District near Swenson Avenue and Flamingo Road by the Tropicana Wash. According to local media reports, at least 50 vehicle rescues took place throughout the Las Vegas Valley by Clark County Firefighters. 40 of these were swiftwater rescues. The largest number of rescues was 15 near the intersection of Sloan and Sahara with one rescue done by helicopter. Roadway flooding was extensive with several inches to several feet of flowing water reported on many roads especially in the central and eastern parts of the Las Vegas Valley. Interstate 215 was closed from Interstate 15 to Eastern Avenue after intense rainfall washed large amounts of mud and rocks onto the highway from nearby landscaping along the side of the road. This also resulted in the Airport Connector to McCarran International Airport being closed. The Charleston Underpass flooded for the first time since extensive construction work was done to mitigate this once flood-prone area back in the mid-2000s. The worst impacted area though was near the Desert Rose Golf Course. At least 45 homes were flooded mainly on and near Walton Heath Avenue. Most of these homes suffered extensive damage to their lowest level with many people loosing furniture and appliances. In some cases the force of floodwaters busted through concrete walls. Numerous vehicles in this area were flooded and some were floated 300 to 400 feet. Three dogs drowned to death that lived in one house. In addition, a worker at the Desert Rose Golf Course was swept away by the floodwaters from his tractor around 4:22 PM PDT on September 11th. His body was found dead two days later about two and a half miles away.
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2011: Small hail was reported at Bodfish and Lake Isabella as was street flooding which was also reported in Kernville.
2011: Monsoonal thunderstorms brought flooding to Downtown Las Vegas and the Las Vegas Strip. A rain gauge in Downtown Las Vegas recorded 0.98" of rain in about 20 minutes. Water ponded up over curbs of streets from Downtown Las Vegas to North Las Vegas. Several inches of water flooded the Circus Circus Adventuredome. The parking lot at the Cannery Casino in North Las Vegas was flooded.... with some cars partially underwater. A few inches of water also entered part of the casino and movie theater.
2008: The Cascadel Fire began on this date in the Sierra National Forest at 2000 PST. The cause was human, from target shooting. The location was 3 miles East-Northeast of North Fork in Madera County. It burned 280 acres and was contained on September 17 at 1700 PST. There were no fatalities or properties damaged. The cost to containment was $3,100,000.
2008: A thunderstorm produced strong outflow winds measured at 67 mph in La Quinta. Another thunderstorm produced golf ball sized hail in Ranchita.
2004: The Nehouse Fire 25 miles east of North Fork in Madera County burned 204 acres. Its cause was human in origin but no fatalities,injuries, or structures-lost occurred.
2004: Severe thunderstorms in Borrego Springs produced one inch hail that broke windows. Strong winds gusted to 60 mph before the anemometer was destroyed, and knocked down six power poles. Training thunderstorms over Johnson Valley produced severe flash flooding. Hwy. 247 was washed out in numerous sections. Minor damage to homes occurred and 12 vehicles were trapped. In La Quinta, 138 trees were knocked down at one golf course with damage to a building. More trees fell down at other golf courses. Roof tiles were blown off. Damage occurred to power poles and transformers.
2004: The China Fire began on this date 15 miles southwest of Lake Isabella in Kern County. This suspiciously-caused fire burned 314 acres but there were no fatalities, injuries, or structures-lost.
2001: On this date 19 hijackers seized 4 U.S. commercial jetliners on the East Coast and flew two aircraft into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City destroying them, one aircraft into the Pentagon Building near Washingon, DC, causing severe damage, and one was destined for another target in the Washington, DC, area (either the White House or the U.S. Capitol Building) but the passengers resisted and the hijackers crashed the plane near Shanksville, PA. In all, nearly 3,000 people were killed and civilian air traffic into, out of, and within the United States was grounded for days afterwards.
1998: Severe thunderstorms pounded the Las Vegas Valley and Lake Mead for a few hours producing golf ball size hail, a small tornado and widespread flash flooding. Large hail began falling shortly before 11 am PST and numerous hail reports came in for the next couple hours with some episodes causing damage to several automobiles. A small tornado tore the roof off a Henderson, NV, warehouse and destroyed a large block wall at a service station a short distance away. Heavy rain fell mainly on the east side of the metro area with amounts up to 1.85" in a two hour period. As a result flash flooding filled streets and washes and trapped several motorists although no serious injuries occurred. The heavy rain damaged about one acre of the 750 acre Sunrise Landfill and carried significant amounts of debris into the Las Vegas, NV, wash. The Clark County School District activated the "shelter-in-place" policy for school children at approximately 30 schools around the area. Children were not bused home until after flooding had subsided.
1990: It was 117° F in Borrego Springs, the highest temperature on record for September. This also occurred the previous day on 9.10.
1983: Half Moon Bay had a high of 94° F -- a record for the month.
1982: The morning low temperature at Reno, NV was a chilly 29° F.
1976: Record rains that started on 9.9 ended on 9.12 came from Tropical Storm Kathleen (called a 160+ year event by meteorologists). 14.76" fell on south slopes of Mt. San Gorgonio, 10.13" at Mt. Laguna, 8" at Mt. San Jacinto, 4"+ in the Little San Bernardino Mountains, and 1.8"-2.8" in the Coachella Valley. Deep Canyon (above La Quinta) recorded 2.96" in three hours on 9.10. Rainfall in the Santa Rosa Mountains above the Coachella Valley was called the a heaviest in recorded history. 6 were buried and killed in sand in Ocotillo. Floods of record were attained at numerous streams around the Coachella Valley. 1.84" of rain fell in Riverside on this day, 2.09" fell in Borrego Springs, 2.33" fell in Victorville, 2.57" fell in Idyllwild, and 5" fell in Palomar Mountain, each the greatest daily amounts on record for September. The Victorville amount is also the third highest daily amount on record. This occurred during the El Nino of 1976-77. Hurricane Kathleen also brought the southwest the highest sustained winds ever associated with an eastern Pacific tropical cyclone with sustained winds of 57 mph at Yuma on 9.10.
1976: The remains of Hurricane Kathleen move across Baja and into southern California near El Centro. With its circulation still intact, tropical storm force winds produce considerable damage in Yuma. Sustained winds exceed 50 mph, and gust as high as 76 mph in Yuma, AZ. One man is killed as a 75 foot palm tree crashes onto his mobile home. Severe flooding occurs in Mohave county.
1971: It was 100° F in Palomar Mountain, the highest temperature on record. This occurred on eight other occasions.
1960: North northwestward moving Hurricane Estelle dissipated west of the central Baja California coast from 9.9 to this day. On this day a thunderstorm hit the area east of Lucerne Valley. The resulting flash flood was four feet deep and washed out a section of road, stranding several vehicles east of Lucerne Valley.
1952: Chilliest morning in three day stretch from the 10th through 12th in Fresno; record lows were set each on morning and all still stand to this day. Low of 44° F on this date is the earliest 45° F or lower reading on record in Fresno.
1939: 4"of rain fell across the deserts and mountains as a dying tropical cyclone moved across Baja California into southwestern Arizona on this day and on 9.12. This was the second tropical cyclone to impact California during the busy month of September 1939. A strong El Nino contributed to the activity.
1939: The remnants from the second of three tropical cyclones to affect the southwestern U.S. in one month floods homes in Eldorado Canyon, roads in the California Wash near Glendale and washed out parts of Charleston Blvd. near Rancho Blvd. in Las Vegas, NV.
1888: Fresno set an all-time record high of 111° F for the month of September. This is also the latest in the season that Fresno has had a high temperature of 110° or better.
Source: NWS San Francisco/Monterey, Hanford, Reno, Las Vegas, Phoenix, & San Diego
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Date: 2013-07-04
Link to submission (Has self-text)

Questions	Answers
Do children often wander into your store and try to buy fireworks?	I don't work in the store myself, What we do is there's a company (Fireworks America) that we order shells from and the company give the shells to us so we go out and set them up and shoot them off :)
What's your funniest child trying to buy fireworks story?	However that'd be a funny story haha.
Edit: aaand OP doesn't work in a store...	That's right, I work in the hot 108° weather from 5am to 1am :D... :'(
Oh, then.	Worst - Last night we had a hand lit show and one of the shells detonated in the mortar and it blew up like 2 feet from him, luckily he wasn't hurt too bad.
What's the worst "display gone wrong" you've had?	(Hand lit shows you sit in rows of nortars and the fuses are practically instant so you crawl from one to another)
what's your best display yet?	Best - Ones that don't go wrong ;) Really cause watching the show literally underneath it is awesome
Hand lighting shows is a really fun experience and a huge rush.	No doubt!
Do you have an underneath picture you can show?	I have a video I'll be uploading soon
A lot of old school guys prefer to hit right at the beginning edge of the paper to get a instant ignition.	I do that! :D
How many people do you work with when setting up a display? And how many fingers do all of you have combined?	9 for this one, and all 90 fortunately ;)
How much money is spent on fireworks ( on a single celebration ) on 4th of July?	$20,000 worth of fireworks in tonight's show.
	That's the price of tonight's show we're doing tonight anyways
Only? surely thats only cost price, and not sales price. Or material only, not including paying for fire safety, technicians and set up personnel.	Oh yes, just shells and cakes alone are $20,000 sorry bout that, total price of show? A hell of a lot more than that
Do you guys have consistent work the other 364 days of the year?	Yes we do, High school graduations, New Years, weddings, all sorts of stuff.
weddings. Holy shit...Where are these weddings with fucking fireworks??	Honestly I don't knoe either haha
Whats a legal firework you think should be illegal ?	Roman Candles >:)
What illegal firework do you think should be legal?(If any)	Roman Candles >:)
Not bottlerockets? :( They outlawed them here and I miss them.	Never used them :'(
Aw man they're my favorites. Like tiny little mortars and whistled as they flew.	My mom used to tell me about bottle rocket fights when she lived in Missouri.. lucky :/
You work in pyrotechnics and have never seen/used bottle rockets, even in your personal time? Seriously?	They're illegal in California man :/ it's a shame
Shouldn't you be a little busy today?	We just finished setting up actually, been working since 5am
What is that firework that just makes a huge boom? The one with no light, those are my favorite!	I think you're talking about Titanium Salutes:) Essentially, It's just a big concussion grenade! :D.
It has to be the dark salutes though. The ones with out the tails.	The titanium salutes, at least the ones we use, don't have tails either... But Dark Salutes sound awesome :o
On big shoots we put a lift charge on some diesel fuel to get a big flame ball.	That's sick!
Whats the foil type looking stuff on the mortars for?	That's the finale, to keep any hot embers falling on them and igniting them
Wow, never would of thought that is what that was for, but doesn't it get blown off when the mortars shoot through it?	Zip right through it yup.
An AMA, nice! I've seen a lot of NatGeo-type shows, so I have a good idea how things work in a general sense. What I'd be curious to know about is the show production culture. Are the guys you work with trying to develop skills, or is this just a job they/you happened into. Is there a certification process? Are you considered an apprentice? Do you want to get into the manufacture side of shell production?	I was more of handed the job, I knew the guys who did the show well enough he just offered a job. There is a certification process as far as bidding for the job, a pyrotechnic license I believe, we just work under the bosses license. There are guys here who want to get there licenses themselves but this might be my last year do it.
Dude, hope you weren't working the Simi Valley show last night...	Luckily not, but daaamn I watched the videos.. Horrific
But in my country there might be some limitations (since we don't have the freedom to handle explosives like in the USA).	4 - Handle them gentley, they are live explosives, created friction or static electricity can accidentally set them off. When loading shells into the mortar, load them right side up, never look over it, safety glasses, pants, etc etc. Just common sense.
How do you control the sequence? did you buy a controller or is it a DIY? Can you tell some safty measures that you take while handling fireworks for this kind of shows? (while buying, storing, transporting, installing and firing)	2 - We control sequences by splicing wires together, also timing detonations to the music or what have you. You can order control boards off the internet.
How do you plan your show? Do you use software, drawings, pictures?	3 - Many different ways, hand lighting, (Yelling at each other slow down or speed up) electronic (choreograph with music, write down times to detonate shells so it syncs with music) , and you can also use software to do everything completely automatic.
Don't forget a hardhat either.	I have it right next to me :)
What is your opinion on illegal fireworks?	Anything that requires being fired from a mortar should be illegal, sucks yes I l know.. but people without a license or proper training can be seriously hurt
But shouldn't we give them the freedom to hurt themselves?	You do have a point...
How do you create words with fireworks? this puzzles the beejesus outta me.	Whoever makes the shell arranges pellets in a "U" shape or "S" or "A" and pack powder in the negative space so when it detonates, the spread out in that way l, that's my best guess, sorry I couldn't answer that one well :/
Whats the worst accident youve seen?	Last night we had a hand lit show and one of the shells detonated in the mortar and it blew up like 2 feet from him, luckily he wasn't hurt too bad.
	(Hand lit shows you sit in rows of nortars and the fuses are practically instant so you crawl from one to another)
Do you have all ten of your fingers?	1..2..6.. Yup! :D
Do you have whistling bungholes?	And Whisker do's and Whisker don'ts too.
I had the oppurturtuty to do tbis a few times. Do hou use flares or or electronics to set them off with?	Some shows we use flares, others we do it electronically
Which do you prefer? All the crazy guys I worked with loved the flares.	I must say I like flares too haha
What sort of system does a show use?	There's different types, last night we had a hand lit show, but bigger more important ways we do it electronically where we wire each shell individually.. it's really a bitch to do
What part of the country are you in?	California
Bay area?	Central California
Are u working in the state fair?	Not sure yet
You said you are in CA, Pyro Spectaculars I assume? I did a show with them last year but decided to sit it out this year and relax for the first time in many years.	Fresno/Clovis area, Yeah honestly I hate it, I'm taking next year off.
I used to live in Madera, but relocated 7 years ago - are you working the Grizzlies game?	No sir, the Buchanan show at Freedom Fest
I live near the grizzlies! Though he was talking about an away game. Do firework companies really do fireworks at nba games almost every other day? I went to to fireworks yesterday at a casino and it was seriously amazing. Much better than I expected and better than the memphis city fireworks. Probably because the casinos have a lot of mulah. Have you ever done work at a casino?	No I haven't :/ Our company works from So Cal up to Sacramento, and there are other companies that work in the same area and bid on shows too
Are they set up on land or a barge over water?	Some shows are different but I'm sure there are shows shot off of barges, All shows I've done has been on land
How does someone get a job like this?	Getting a pyrotechnics license or something I just got picked up by the boss cause I knew him well enough :D
San Francisco shoots their fireworks off a barge.	Yes I said I'm sure there are some :)
How do you line up finales? Are all the shells pre setup and just lit off quickly, or is there a lot of manual work involved constantly setting up new shells to light?	The finales are pre chained, all of the fuses are linked together. Then you just drop the shells in the mortars like a normal shell :)
	Oh and you set up every shell and mortar before the show, it's impossible to reset shells that quickly, you have to drop it, tap it to the bottom, and light the fuse, that process can take anywhere from 5-8 minutes depending on if you have to wire the shell for electronic shows or not
What is the biggest change in the firework business since you started and now?	Safety-ness has improved
Are your fireworks lit by a remote control servo or are they manually lit?	Tonight's show electronic but last night we did a hand lit
What's your favorite part about your job? And what's your favorite shell/mortar to fire off?	My favorite shell is called a titan salute, it's a giant concussion grenade :D
Do you think that fireworks are dangerous or the person behind them?	Both, some shells could be defective while the majority of time its the person behind them
Thanks for the answer! Another question. Have you ever been seriously injured due to a firework if so why/what happened?	No problem! I myself have not, However last night we had a hand lit show and one of the shells detonated 2 feet next to a guy, luckily he wasn't seriously injured, he was in shock for the rest of the night
Are there any fireworks that closely act like a Komodo 3000 from Malcolm in the Middle? Reference. Obviously it's unrealistic, but what's the closest thing you've seen that could light up the sky, so to speak. If yes, have you ever used one?	There's nothing that I know of that can do that haha, but a bunch of shells in the air over and over (like the finale) definitely lights up the ground so you can see everything
What kind of qualifications/certifications do you need to get into this line of work? How hard is it to get those credentials? Expensive?	Well don't be a dumbass and be a hard worker will get you a job, yo get your liver (I don't have) I'm sure there's a few courses that I doubt ate expensive
Shouldn't you be busy?	If you read down I bit I said We're finished setting up, I've been working since 5am
Why aren't you out shooting fireworks right now?	It's 6:56 in the afternoon, it's still day time
What kind of debris rains back down after a firework explodes? How far can it travel?	Usually just hot paper, they can travel as far as the wind will take them, also small cardboard pieces or pellets can too, just not as far
In your expert opinion, what happened here? What do you do in your job to prevent this? Link to youtu.be.	I think I heard something about a faulty activation board
So if you're using electronics to detonate the fireworks, how exactly does that work? Do you just touch a positive and negative cable and it goes boom? Or do you run them all to a control board? Also, sorry if this is a stupid question.	Hey man don't worry :) Each individual shell has a fuse, we take an E-match and connect it to the fuse on the shell, the ematch is connect to a strip and you connect it much like audio speakers, it doesn't matter if it's positive or negative, just as long as they're in each connector. That strip is ran to a control board where you ignite it with a switch there. Hope that cleared it up :)
Firework factory blew up a mile from my house in the early 80's. two men died, they are the reason for a lot of the safety measures today, like static electricity discrarge plates and such. What safety precautions have you seen guys skip? And were you ever afraid for your safety as a result of a coworkers actions?	Our boss is pretty anal about safety, as a result no one I've seen has been injured from one of our workers, just defective shells
How many fingers do you have? (This includes thumbs)	10 :)
I take it you did not blow up in tonights display. Everyone else with 10 fingers still?	Yup yup, pretty safe show this time
If you wanted to, do you have the know-how to make dangerous bombs etc?	Yes I do, with over the counter fireworks. Mt friend and I would break open the tubing inside of the fireworks, take all the powder, and pack it nice and tight in a roll of paper.. boom >:)
Do you know of any former military EOD guys working in the field?	Nope, but that'd be sweet!
What gives you the right?	To put up a fence that keeps me out, or mother nature in.. If God was here he'd tell it to your face, man you're some kinda sinner
At the cedar city show last night, there were multiple charges that went off on the ground, and they all seemed similar? Could this have just been a wiring mistake? (no one was hurt)	Hmm hard to tell... Did it seem like they were supposed to go up? Did the break low or actually on the ground?
On the ground. A few actualy gave big fireballs, but they were obviously designed to go up. The reason I ask is because probably 10 did this, and all of them looked similar.	If they were meant to go up in the air, probably whoever loaded the shell didn't make sure the shell was properly loaded at the bottom of the mortar
What is the best firework that the average person can buy? Also, what kind of fireworks are the most impressive for the least amount of money (Bang for your buck haha)?	Honestly not good ones, now illegally you can buy what we use ;) Don't do it though
15 years in prison and $100,000 fine I believe.	Something along the lines of that yup.
Would it classify as an explosive by the ATF? And for you other people, if i am correct, that would be the same punishment as owning a illegal frag grenade.	Yes sir, it's illegal to have fireworks of this class without a license. maybe not the same as a frag, but a heavy fine is definite
Do you know what the law or class is called that they are under? Does class 3 ring a bell? And where do you buy your mortars from?	I don't know about classes, but I do know they are illegal to own if you are not licensed. And mortars are supplied by our company.
Have you ever worked thunder over louisville or any of the major international shows? If so how do they compare to your run of the mill small town show on the 4th?	Unfortunately we haven't not, sorry :/
U/DilDeer, maybe you can explain what went wrong at the fireworks display I was at tonight. The man who hosted the party spent 200k on a fireworks show, and was shooting very very large fireworks off a barge on the lake. During she show, one of the bigger fireworks went really high but didn't go off, but instead fell back down into the very crowded yard and exploded. What in the fuck happened, and who's responsible?	I think I heard about that! The boss man was talking about it... He said a shell may have detonated in the mortar and blew some other mortars over, hot ember ms got inside and caused a chain reaction and shit went down
What was you're biggest "oh shit " moment?	Hahaha Let's see, last night was a hand lit show and one of the shells blew up in the mortar, and one of our guys was literally two feet from it, he didn't get hurt too bad
I've wanted to be a pyrotechnic my whole life how do you get certified is they a degree or something you need?	There is certification involved to get your license. I work under the license of my boss but he went for courses offered by the firework company to get certified.
Low breaks can be pretty scary.	Oh yeah, believe me haha.
How much does for each shell that goes up?	Not entirely sure but tonight's show, the price for all the shells was around $20,000.
What education is required to become a professional?	Probably none, I'm sure there's a few courses and some tests involved with
How much do you make ?	Very little, in back to back days working 5am-1am both days only $240
I wish I got to play with the big you alike you, but alas I just worked at a consumer fireworks booth for a week instead. My question is, do you know the name of/have you had experience with the firework that light up the sky? Like the kind in Disneyland's nightly show.	I shoot shows like Disneyland yes :) Not nearly as big though
That's too bad. When I was a kid , i wanted your job.	Yeah It's really not all that up to be, working in the hot 110°F sun, almost literally all day, loading and unloading all this heavy equipment. Yup, definitely not as fun as I thought. This year is probably my last year, I'm going off to play sports in college and I'll have no time fore it
Do your ears ring at the end of the night or are you used to the loudness?	My ears do hurt a little, some ringing but not much
Do you know the name of that firework they have probably 2 dozen of that just lights up the sky? It's a huge streak of intense light and then it's gets insanely bright at its peak.	Unfortunately not, sorry man :/
How long does a single firework take to make?	Sorry don't know that one :/ 20-40 mins?
Suppose I have a long fuse and a couple jars of powder left over from handloading, how far should I run?	Hmmm... is the power tightly packed?
Lets just say the grains are all poured into a glass jar, for shits and giggles.	I'd feel safe at 300+ feet, whatever you're trying take a video of it ;)
Ran out of foil.	And so we did... so many times...
How dangerous is your job ranging from completely safe, to I could die any minute.	Hmmm... It is relatively dangerous, you are handling live explosives and one accident could be fatal, lasy night we had a hand lit show and a shell detonated within two feet of a guy, thank god he was safe. He was in shock for the rest of the night
Wild* If he was talking about this party. iPhone app won't let edit last message either.	Go look it up on youtube, just type in firework disaster and filter it to "uploaded today" I'm sure it will come up, last I checked 20 people were injured
That had to be traumatic! Thank you for a quick reply!	No problem!
Wow what a cool job to have. Your lucky I love fireworks	Yeah it's pretty cool but honestly the amount of work you do sucks! especially in this heat. I work from 5am-1am back to back on July 3rd and 4th in 110F+ weather :/
Please tell me you wear ear protection.	If I'm hand lighting I do

Last updated: 2013-07-08 22:44 UTC
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