Our Echo
Title, story type, location, year, person or writer
 
Add a Post
View Posts
Popular Posts
Hall of Fame
Projects
Visitors
Contests
Search

Next Car, Please ….

Story ID:8683
Written by:Charles Dishno (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Dillon Montana USA
Year:2013
View Comments (2)   |   Add a Comment Add a Comment   |   Print Print   |     |   Visitors
OurEcho Preface This post deals with a mature theme or contains explicit language. While the post is not extremely violent or pornographic, it does contain language or explore a subject matter that may offend some readers. If you do not wish to view posts that deal with mature themes, please exit this post.
I hope this doesn't offend anyone but it's the truth and I heard one time that the truth must be told...


Next Car, Please ….
By Chuck Dishno
January 2013

In 1968 I was working for the Fresno County Department of Education managing the printing department. The County School Administration building was a 3-story building that housed the superintendent and various consultants for the county school system. On the third floor was an Instructional Television studio where shows were made and sent out to all the schools in the district. My printing office covered about ¼ of the 2nd floor.

One day four of the television boys and myself were going back to work from our coffee break in the basement. We had all boarded on the elevator when Gordon, one of the television boys dropped a SBD (silent but deadly) bomb just as the doors started to close. They had almost closed when a hand popped thru which stopped the action and they opened again. Gordon stepped out just as three girls from the secretary pool entered. The doors rapidly closed leaving the seven of us trapped in a cloud of could only be described as rotting cabbage. No one said anything but I’m sure the ladies were wondering who was trying to gas them to death.

Fortunately the elevator stopped at the second floor and the girls made a rapid exit. When the doors again closed the four of us were cracking up with our eyes watering and not just from laughing.

When the elevator doors opened at the third floor, Gordon was waiting there. He had bolted up the stairs and beat the car by at least a minute. He asked how the ride up was and couldn’t see why we would take the elevator when we could use the stairs.

We were disappointed that we never heard about the incident but I’m sure it made the rounds of the secretary pool. We made jokes about the incident saying that maybe one of the girls made a call to the Otis Elevator Company saying that she thought “Otis” may have died in that elevator.