Denied

Posted on Monday, December 12, 2011 by Jefferson Davis

I haven’t posted anything in over a month. Even Google has written me off. My apologies for the absence. It has been a tumultuous couple of months. I don’t enjoy admitting what I’m about to admit, but in order for you to understand what I’m talking about, I feel that I must tell you folks what has been going on in my life.

After repeated job declinations, I went down to the local Disability office and applied for Disability. I never thought I’d be in a position where I’d have to do such a thing, but the sun doesn’t shine on the same dogs arse everyday. In the middle of July, I went down to the office and handed the lady that was interviewing me a two page list of conditions and ailments that I have and another list of doctors that could corroborate my story. It has been almost six months and everything that I stated has been verified.

I was not brought up to take from the government. My father recited JFK’s famous line, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country”. I grew up in a house where we didn’t want the government intruding upon our lives. My family shells out six figures a year in taxes to the state alone. I thought that I had paid in a considerable amount as well. In my naive stupidity, I reckoned that my country cared about my well being and would help me out during these trying times.

All I really wanted was assistance until I can finish up my degree, but the fact is that they really don’t give a damn. I’m not Black, I’m not Hispanic, I’m not Asian, and I’m not enough Native American to claim it. So, what it comes down to is the fact that I’m a disabled white man that is supposed to pay for every one else to sit on their fat arses. And, I’m supposed to work my fingers to the bone so a minority or an immigrant can go to college (no offense to my friends and folks I call family overseas, but you all would get free college over here.) and barely pass.

My GPA for this semester is 3.75. It’s not perfect, but I try really hard and study for hours on end. I’m a hard worker. All I’ve ever expected is the chance to succeed and move up the social ladder. However, this is not what one receives when one works his or her arse off. Several months ago I went in for a job interview to do Audits for a large commercial company. Trying to be honest, when the application asked if I was disabled, I checked the yes box. Big freakin’ mistake. The lad half my age asked me why I marked that box, so I tried to downplay it and said that I’ve always excelled past anything anyone has ever asked for me. After a few minutes of asking me questions, he looked over at me, and asked, “Why don’t you take a job as a cashier or janitor like other disabled people?”

I wanted to knock him the feck out, but kept my composure and left after he said he’d keep me on file. This past week has been a hectic one. I asked everyone to do their best to leave me alone, so I could properly prepare for finals. Of course, they did not. I should have just said I’m free all week On Tuesday, the day of one of my hardest written exams, I had to go with my cousin to work on a house for me Mum. Now, I love me Mum and would do anything for her, but it was a bad time to be asking me to paint and install tile flooring. Dr. Don and myself finished up about two in the afternoon and I came home.

When I arrived home, I noticed that the mail lady had been here. With hesitation, I checked the mailbox to see if I had received a letter from the disability office. By chance, there was a letter in there from them. I hesitated in opening it, but I did anyway. I was hoping and praying to get the assistance, so I could finish school unimpeded, but alas, it was a denial letter.

I called them up and said, “Let me get this straight, I applied for a gub’mint job and couldn’t get it because I’m too blind, but when I ask for assistance as a last resort, I’m not blind enough.”

My vision was just one wee thing on the application, yet they used it as an excuse to deny me. Yes, I’m a Southern American and I’m Caucasian. So the feck what? Look, I’m not a xenophobe. However, when I’ve seen blatant evidence that minorities are treated better than the rest of us, I tend to get cross! I used to work with a chap that was Hispanic. The government paid for his University fees as well as giving him rent and food money equalling about $1100 a month.

Everyone should be on a level playing field when it comes to jobs and education. When I finished secondary school, there was no free access to third level education. Parents of all races and cultures had to save for a long time to send their kids to college. As it is in the states now, if you’re an immigrant or are anything other than Caucasian, you can go to school for free and have free lodging and food.

I’m not a racist. I’m just stating the facts as I see them. We are in hard times. I realise that. All I was asking for was assistance for the next few years so I can finish University and make a difference in this world. But, they couldn’t do that.

I have a new outlook thanks to this denial. The US government can fuck off! I will always support the troops, policeman, and fire-fighters, but the politicians and greedy officials can screw somebody else over. I, and my family, have been screwed over enough! Don’t ask me for another mother fecking thing, government. Fuck off with ya.

My sister said it best the other day as we were shopping. She said, “Everyone from doctors to family and friends have called you retarded and written you off. You’ve out lived some of them and have done more in the last six years than any of them have in a lifetime.”

I will succeed. I will hike through rain, sleet, and snow. I will climb the highest peaks and never give up.

Do you know what happens when you kick a Mutt? He comes back stronger than ever and chews your effing leg off!

Have a grand week all…

Campin’

Posted on Saturday, August 22, 2009 by Jefferson Davis

On the 13th of this month, Dr. Don, his three boys, and myself went on a camping trip up to the mountains. I had promised them a camping trip several months back and the start of school was near. So, we headed up the winding roads with camping gear and food.

I made the campsite arrangements over the phone. I asked the kind lady to give us a riverside site close to the trail entrance. I knew we’d be carrying a lot of gear up the rocky trail and wanted to make it as easy as possible on the lads.

We arrived and geared up. I carried 80lbs. worth of supplies in my backpack along with the tent and a lantern. After going about a mile up the trail, we collapsed at the first bivouac. It was number eight, so I left the kids and headed further up by myself to see what the next number was. The next one was number nine. I surmised that the lady put me at the other end of the trail which was another seven miles up a craggy path.

After talking to a few hikers, we decided to take number eight since no one was using it. After all, I paid for a full size site, so it was not like I would be cheating the park service out of any money.

The kids went fishing while I put up the tent. Dr. Don’s only duty was to bring dry wood. He brought WET wood. It took us about half an hour to get the fire roaring. He crashed in the tent, and I started unpacking supplies. The boys returned with a bucket full of wee trout for eating.

I decided to return to the truck to get some fuel for the lantern. I discovered the ranger looking at my truck, when I got to the parking lot. He asked what site we were on and I explained our wee dilemma. We went to the rangers station to see if anyone would be staying on #8 that night. Unfortunately, someone was supposed to be on that site that evening, so he checked to see if anything close was available.

Luckily, #9 was available, so I headed back up the trail with the bad news that we’d have to move. I told the lads that there was a much better site on the other side of the ridge and proceeded to pack up the tent and supplies.

Again, we headed up the rocky path to our new destination. We arrived and unpacked yet again. The youngsters played in the river, as I worked on yet another fire. Dr. Don took another nap! You would truly be amazed how quickly a fire can boost moral.

Dr. Don’s oldest son and myself worked on the fire for almost an hour before we got it roaring. The lads wanted to cook their fish over the fire. I laughed and told them how good they were going to taste when the guts exploded. So, I taught the boys how to clean fish. We cooked steaks, trout, and beans over the open flame. Protein is a must when out in the wilderness.

As darkness fell over the pine laden mountain range, the lads roasted marshmallows and told scary stories. I sat back and inhaled the crisp mountain air. There’s nothing better for what ails you than a bit of time with nature. It helps us appreciate what we have.

We all turned in quite early, exhausted from the trip. But, about midnight nature called and I had to oblige its beckoning. When I returned from the woodlands illuminated by a lantern, I discovered a figure sitting by the fire. Dr. Don’s eldest was up as well. He couldn’t sleep, so we decided to make a late night trip back to the truck to get more water for the morning.

Only illumined by the wee lantern, we found the trail brimming with life. We encountered field rats, eastern diamondback rattlesnakes, and king snakes. We were very wary of the diamondbacks! It would be unwise to leave one’s tent open at night. They like warm places.

The next morning we got up and made a unanimous decision to hike up to Rainbow Falls which is only about three more miles up the trail. However, it is one of the hardest trails to hike around due to the 2,000 foot ascent.

The boys were so excited and in such a hurry that we missed the turn off. We continued on Jone’s Gap Trail ‘til we reached Jone’s Gap Falls. We were content with that, so we settled down and let the boys play on the slippery rocks for about an hour. They climbed the rocks and slid down to the collecting poll at the bottom of the falls. I had a blast just watching them have so much fun.

We arrived back to our tent without any water. I have excellent water purification skills but did not want to take a chance on the lads getting sick. So, we packed up and headed home. The lot of us went home exhausted yet happy. The lads are still telling stories of our escapades in the woods, and I have a new appreciation for the loo!

P.S.: Like a true eejit, I left me camera at the door on my way out. All photos were taken with my phone. A bit crappy, but eh?

Thanks Gramps

Posted on Thursday, May 14, 2009 by Jefferson Davis

As the sound of splintering white oak limbs reverberated across the large ravine, I thought of my grandfather. If it were not for him, I wouldn’t have known what to use to shelter myself from the horrendous rainstorm that blew out of nowhere deep in the wilderness trails of Caesar’s Head State Park. I would not have known how to get safe drinking water, when my water reserves ran out. And, I certainly would not know how to track, kill, and clean deer or bears, if such an extreme were necessary.

Saturday morning I decided to go hiking by me self. It is irritating when someone offers to join me, yet he or she only has a two or three hour window in which to hike. That is utterly useless. When I go hiking, I hike for at least four hours. I go on wild walkabouts simply for the journey. The constantly changing elevation and terrain is better than any tread climber. The scenery isn’t bad either.

On a usual trip, I see snakes (this time too), wild boars, bears, wildflowers, and of course, huge squirrels. It is indeed a treat to hike through the mountainous terrain that is my home.

Grandfather and I spent every summer of my youth camping, fishing, and hiking. He taught me everything I know about how to survive in the wild. He spent ages teaching me which wild berries are edible along with how to clean animals. I didn’t always enjoy it, but sitting here today, I am very grateful that he passed it on to me.

His parents died in a car wreck, when he was seven. His mothers family on the Cherokee reservation took him in and raised him ‘til he was thirteen. The elders of the tribe treated him as one of their own, even though his father was ‘white’. He was taught all of the traditions that were still being passed down through the generations at that time. Sadly, most of these teachings are fading away with the memory of the trail of tears.

Gramps was on his on from his teens until he met my grandmother at a dance in 1949. They were head over heels for each other from that point forward and married in ‘50. Both had jet black hair yet managed to have three blonde haired, blue-eyed children.

Everyone called him Abe, because he was a spitting image of Abraham Lincoln. I don’t know if he fashioned his beard like Lincoln’s on purpose, but he definitely got a kick out of the remarks. At 6’5”, he had the stature of a giant and the posture of a titan. Throughout his life, he had five heart attacks. I never heard the man whine or whimper once in the seventeen years that I knew him.

When I was a wee lad, he would take me bowling. This happened quite frequently, since I was sick a lot and unable to go to school. On one occasion, a drunk started mocking me because of the way I talked. He made the mistake of calling me retarded. Gramps hit him so hard and fast that the man slid halfway down the alley.

He taught me a lot about life, but the most important one of all was to keep going down that wacky, and sometimes wicked, trail we call life no matter how arduous it may become. So, I kept going down that lengthy trail soaked from head to toe and already exhausted. Five miles later, a few blisters and bruises, and wrecked knees I emerged victoriously. Fifteen miles through some of the toughest mountainous terrain the Southern United States can provide.

Survivor Tip: If you are in need of water and it happens to be raining (lucky you/me), simply ring out your clothes. I got enough water out of my t-shirt and a few leaves to almost fill up the water bottle. I could have used water from the rivers and streams that surround the trails, but I would have had to set up camp, start a fire, and boil the water. Because of pollution and disease, the water in the rivers and streams is not safe to drink unless boiled. You’re not supposed to drink from rivers right after it rains anyway due to the animal faeces that washes off the banks.

How ‘bout some pictures?