A late Friday night run which I took at the last minute soon found me changin’ a flat rear-tire just outside of Goble, a stones-throw away from that creepy damn Trojan Plant. With it bein’ night and all, I don’t mind tellin’ y’all that I was a bit jumpy to say the least, and damn if I wasn’t payin’ attention to what I was doing when the crowbar slipped and I tore open my wrist and forearm but good on some sharp metal underneath the rig. After wrappin’ an old oily-rag as a turnicate on my arm, I finished up and lead-footed it on into St. Helens to find an Emergency Room for some stitches. Problem was - there wasn’t any ER to be found anywhere in town! I pulled in at the 76 Station and asked the night-shift fella where I should go and he told me in a monotone-drawl, “Portland I guess…or, uhmmm…maybe St. Johns Hospital in Longview, I don’-know.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearin’ and I must have started carryin’ on like a lunatic cause he started lookin’ at me like I was somekind of an idiot. “Why the hell isn’t there an emergency hospital in town?” The 76-fella spit on the blacktop and said, “Used-ta-be-one…not any more though, damn! That is a nasty cut ya got there mister.” “What-the-hell happened to the hospital?” I asked. “Well, some people say the Ad-minister took off with all-a-the money, but then some other people say that it was just crappy bean-countin’ and crooked accountin’; I personally think it musta been somethin’ to do with their computers or something like that. Hell, that’s always happenin’ around here.” As I jumped into the rig and scooted on into Portland to get fixed up, I thought to myself that this must have been the first time I’d ever heard of a hospital losin’ money. Somethin’ ain’t quite right here friends, and I’ll try an’ find out some more about this when I come through town. Y’all sure better be careful and not get hurt too badly after the sun goes down in this nice little town. Be sure and take care of things, ya hear?
Tom
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