Bev's CAMPING TRIP FROM HELL, 2002

BEV'S TRUE STORY OF THE CAMPING TRIP FROM HELL.  

This story is still NOT funny to me:

SUMMER, 2002
We wanted to take a trip with our kids during the summer.  We found out my hubbys company picnic was going to be at the theme park near St. Louis, Missouri, a little over an hour from where we lived in Springfield, Illinois.  So we decided to go camping an hour past St. Louis Friday night, near Merimac Caverns and Merimac State Park.  We figured we would camp Friday night, we would go to the theme park Saturday and then drive home.

THE CAMPER:

(It kind of looked like this picture I found on line)

A "friend" of my hubbys from Springfield said we could use his camper so we didn't have to pitch a tent.  That sounded so fancy!!! You mean I don't have to set up camp for an hour, sleep on the ground or contend with snakes?  You mean we'll have a toilet, a stove, a TV/VCR, A/C?  SOLD!!!  He didn't notice anything out of order, except it was about 15 years old.  We loaded up the 3 kids (our 2 and our niece Jacklyn), our dog Angel, and headed out for the camp ground, 2 hours away.

We got to the highway and were on the On Ramp and we hit a bump.  Immediately, the camper filled up the the most toxic, horrible, old, shit smell you have ever smelled in your life.  We were all gaging.  We pulled over and called the owner and he said, "I must have forgotten to empty the toilet tank at the end of last summer.

When you guys get to the campground, just dump it, sorry", like it was no big deal!!!  We were only about 15 min. from our house, WE SHOULD HAVE TURNED BACK HOME.  But the kids said they could handle it for 2 hours, better option than cancelling the highlight of their summer vacation.  So we drive about 1/2 hour, kids are settling down, hubby is trying not to hit any bumps, its HOT, windows open (because the A/C was already on the fritz).

JACKLYN'S MAGIC 8 BALL:

Jacklyn, our niece, (who was 13) decides to pull out her magic 8 ball and scare my kids/her cousins.  So Jacklyn started asking the Magic 8 ball all of these questions:


 "Is this trip doomed?".................. OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD
"Will we die?"................................ IT IS UNCERTAIN.
"Will Jennifer get hurt?".............. YES.
"Will Michael get hurt?"...............YES.
"Will Auntie Bev get hurt?"..........YES.
"Will Uncle LoLo get hurt?".........IT IS CERTAIN.
 "Will Angel get hurt?".................YES.
 "Will I get hurt?".........................NO.

Now shes freaking me out and I was like, "OK Jacklyn, put that DAMN thing away and stop scarring your cousins, ha ha ha".  But I had a terrible feeling, and I WAS THINKING, WE SHOULD TURN BACK.

THE ONE AND ONLY BLACK CLOUD FOUND US AND OUR BROKEN WIPERS:
But as I looked out the window, I thought, the sun is shining, its a beautiful day, just very hot, Bev, you're just  being superstitious.  Right as I was thinking that, OUT OF NOWHERE, a single set of big black clouds moved in right over us and it started POURING RAIN.  My hubby went to turn on the windshield wipers, nothing happened, we realize they were broken.

We barely made it to the side of the road, it was a  blinding downpour and we were driving blind without wipers.  We had to sit there until the rain stopped, looking at each other, thinking poor kids, this trip is over.  We went to a gas station so he could see if he could fix it before we broke the news to the kids. Inside the gas station they had this RainX stuff that makes the rain just bead off of your windshield.  We bought it and it worked.  I looked up, the sky was completely blue, not a cloud in the sky.  How eerie.  So once again,  I IGNORED MY INNER WARNING, and we continued on our trip.

LORENS GETS HURT:
About a 1/2 hour later, the kids all fell asleep, then so did I.  All of a sudden I heard a very loud THUMP.  I woke up and looked out the window and said to my husband "What was that?"  He didn't answer me.  So I looked over, he was holding his head, which was BLEEDING, the camper is swerving as he yelled out in pain.  I was confused, 1/2 asleep, looking around, like, "WHAT, WHAT JUST HAPPENED?  PULL OVER, TELL ME WHATS GOING ON!!!"

He pulls over, says something hit him in the head.  I see the bed above us, and there's a metal ladder that is suppose to be secured across the sleeping area above the dashboard that's now on the floor behind our seats.  It had fallen down and hit him in the head when he hit a pothole.

(picture I found on line.  The inside kind of looked like this.)


The camper is filling up with the year old shit smell again too.  I got him ice from the cooler, bandaged him up and Jacklyn says, "JUST LIKE THE 8 BALL SAID, IT IS CERTAIN, UNCLE LOLO WILL GET HURT."  

I YELLED at her this time to be quiet and stop scarring the kids.  But Lorens and I looked at each other and I had a pit in my stomach, AGAIN, and yet I IGNORED MY INNER WARNING and thought, its just a silly Magic 8 ball, no way.  We secured the ladder and continued on our trip, now over an hour behind schedule.

**********************************************************************************
We get to the KOA campground and it was HOT outside, 95 with 100% humidity and it was almost dark.  Kids wanted to go swimming before the pool closed.  Kids had their swimsuits on under their clothes.  So they just dropped their clothes in a pile on the camper floor and we went to the pool.  My husband's head was swollen, bloody, he had a headache and just wanted to stay in the camper and try to lay down.  That time at the pool was the only good part of the trip.  Cool, relaxing, fun, tired out the kids.
**********************************************************************************

JENNIFER GETS HURT/HAS NO CLOTHES:
Pool is closing, its pitch black out, we're wet and the temp. dropped, we're cold and not sure where our camper is.  We're walking through the campground looking for it and the kids start running ahead of me.  Then Jen starts crying and Jacklyn screams for me.  I run ahead and find Jennifer on the ground, crying hysterically.  She ran right into some campers metal hitch and cut her nose and face, scrapped her hands and legs in the gravel on the way down.

Now its dark, we're cold, Jen's hurt.  
I was thinking, great, just get me back to my damn camper.

So we find the camper, go inside with Jen crying, bloody.   I get her all bandaged up and tell her to go get changed.  She opens her suitcase (which she INSISTED she pack herself cause she's a big girl) and realizes she brought the wrong one. This was her dress up suitcase that had all her costumes in it, not clothes.  OUR DAUGHTER IS GOING TO BE POCAHONTAS, PRINCESS JASMINE OR A WITCH FOR THE REST OF OUR TRIP!

I tell her to just put on the clothes she wore here.  The clothes she had worn there had been thrown on the floor in our rush to get to the pool earlier.  A tube of toothpaste had been dropped on the floor and had been stepped on, many, many times during all this commotion.  All of Jen's clothes, HER ONLY CLOTHES, now had toothpaste on all of them.

So now we had to drive the smelly camper into town to a WalMart and buy her a change of clothes.

BYE BYE VCR,  HELLO OUTHOUSE:
We get back and hubby tries to dump the tank and realizes there's no hose and we can't dump it.  Not only do we have to live with this smell for another day, we can't use the toilet and need to get up, dressed, find a flashlight and walk to the outhouse.  We decide to start a movie in the campers VCR to help the kids fall asleep.  We put in a new movie (we had borrowed from a friend) and hit play.  About 5 min. into the movie, the VCR sparked, ate our friends movie and died.  Now I think I owe our friend a new movie and the camper owner a new TV/VCR combo.  Great.

The campers air conditioner kept shutting off and it was now cooler outside than in our SMELLY camper and I ENVIED THE PEOPLE IN TENTS.

In the morning we got ready to leave for St. Louis.  Lorens' head is swollen, cut, and his head was still pounding.  Jennifer had a gash across her nose and scratches on her head and leg and hands.

We get to the theme park and put our dog Angel into their kennel.  They said they would put her in a big outside run with access to the inside/outside, with a bucket of water.  We went into the park, thinking she would be safe.

It was PACKED, way too crowded, way to hot.  But we had food coupons his company gave to all employees and their families so we got to eat and drink throughout the day without having to go outside to our camper and cook more hot dogs.  The food coupons ended up being for hot dogs.

MICHAEL ALMOST DROWNS:

(I found this picture on line, PERFECT.  Looks just about how crowded

the theme park wave pool was in Missouri where our son almost drowned.

At one point the kids were getting overheated so we decided to take them into the water park part of the theme park (so did about 1M other people).  We go to the wave pool which was way overcrowded.  All you could see was inner tubes, as far as the eye could without an inch of open water anywhere.  My son was 8 years old.  Then the waves started.  The crowd roared.  I see a very large woman's inner tube knock my son over.  I see my son go under the water.  It was so crowded, where he had been disappeared and was now covered in black inner tubes, with no way for him to get above water.

I REALIZED, MY SON WAS UNDERWATER, DROWNING! 

I became Superwoman.  I ran towards him, LIFTING inner tubes with both hands, on either side of me, FLIPPING people out of their tubes as I went along, like they were toothpicks, looking for my son.  When I knocked person #5 and #6 off of their inner tubes, my son popped to the surface, throwing up water, coughing.  We carried him out of the pool to the lifeguard, my stomach was in my throat.   I said, "HEY, YOU, MY SON JUST ALMOST DROWNED BECAUSE YOU'RE SO OVERCROWED, HE WENT UNDER AND COULDN'T FIND A 1 INCH SPOT TO COME BACK UP".  So she blew the whistle and they closed that pool for a few minutes while they called first aid for Mike.  He checked out ok but I was very shaken.

That was the last straw, I thought, how much worse can this trip get?  Now my son almost died, I wanna get my dog and go home.  So we leave after I stop up front and tell them what happened and how it was their fault.  No, I don't want free tickets, I'm never coming here again.

ANGEL ALMOST DIES:
So we go to the kennel to get our dog.  I stop by the outside part to peek at her.  Shes laying down, her tounge is sticking out to the gound.  It was about 95 outside, the sun was completely covering every inch of the kennel, there was no way for her to go inside, and the bucket they had given her had a hole in the bottom and she was without water ALL DAY.  I was hysterical.  "FIRST YOU TRY AND KILL MY SON, NOW MY DOG!!!".

(Found this pic on line.  Their kennel kind of looked like this

except the doors to go inside were closed.)

We got their hose and wet her down, gave her a cup of water.  I was crying to my hubby, "Just take me home already, this is a camping trip from hell, I give up!"  LOL, this was all before the fire.

THE FIRE:
So we leave 6 flags, get onto the highway, had driven about 15 minutes from the theme park but we were still in Missouri.  All of a sudden, smoke starts coming out of the hood and then out of the dashboard.  We were in the middle lane.  There was a car with 2 old people on our right that would not slow down or speed up so we could exit.  Lorens was honking the horn, I was waving my arms but they wouldn't look over at me and we almost missed that exit.  We didn't have a cell phone and we thought we have to get off of the highway to a phone to call the fire department.

Then flames started coming out of the dashboard on my side then, burning my legs.  I started screaming, unbuckled and jumped in the back as my husband was trying to exit the highway.  I have 3 kids, a dog, we're doing 70mph and we're on FIRE!!!!

I tell the kids, "Get ready, the second the camper stops, we have to jump out, leave everything behind."  There was a gas station just off of the ramp.  I don't even know the name of the little town we were in between 6 flags and greater St. Louis where this happened.  We pulled off the highway, right into a Shell Gas Station at the bottom of the ramp, right across the street.  We pulled the burning camper on the side of the building, we later saw we had pulled in right on top of the gas refueling hole in the ground.

The second we stopped, we both jumped out the drivers door (passenger side was completely engulfed in flames by now) as the kids were opening the back door of the camper. I didn't want them to have to come up front but we realized the back door was stuck, the kids and the dog are trapped and are going to have to come out past the fire.  They kids came running out, no problem, we told them to get far away, but our dog went and hid in the back of the camper.  My hubby finally coaxed her out but she singed her fur and burned her face on the way out.

The gas station store was closed for the night.  We told the gas station attendant  (through the anti theft glass), "Quick, call 911, we need the Fire Department!!!"  He told us, that there was a garden hose over there we could use.  "A garden hose?"  Did he think my "toy" camper was on fire?  What a moron!!!  We ran back to the camper, the inside dashboard was completely engulfed in flames by this time.  Lorens found a spicket on the side of the building and had to ATTACH the small hose to it, then he turned on the hose and nothing happened.  No water!  I run back to the glass and say again, "CALL 911, THERE IS NO WATER!"  Lorens screamed at me to go on the other side of the gas station building with the kids and the dog.  We both thought the camper was about to blow.

(Found this picture on line. )

The idiot gas station attendant  finally called 911 and the Fire Department came, so did a couple filming it, talking about it on camera, trying to do a little news story about my trauma as we were still going through it.  I wanted to smack them.  They said they listen to the scanner and rush to scenes and try to sell it to the news stations.  I don't know if it got on their local news that night or the next day.  I refused to speak on camera, I was hysterical and they reminded me of ambulance chasing attorneys.  I felt like I was in shock.  The firemen came over, said the fire was out, told us we would need to call someone to pick us up and they left.

I was sure it was an evil curse and I was truly petrified, shaking. Everything inside the camper was burned up, including the DAMN Magic 8 ball, and smelled of burnt plastic and old shit.  I can still smell that smell writing this story.

MY SISTER/MY HERO AND THE  STRANGE TOW TRUCK DRIVER:

We're now stranded, in another state, with someone else's burned up camper, that we borrowed.  I called my sister.  She drove all the way to Missouri, I was about 100 miles from Springfield, IL where we both lived.  She called for a tow truck, picked us up and paid for the tow truck to tow the burned up camper back to Springfield ($300).  She brought us munchies, drinks, blankets, etc.  She was my hero that day.

The tow truck that picked up our camper didn't have any lights to hook up to the back of our camper (totally illegal).  He told my sister to follow him in her van for the 100 miles so no one would slam into the back of our camper he'd be towing.  He then proceeded to drive 50mph in the LEFT PASSING lane, towing the camper, while people doing 70mph (the limit in Missouri) sped around us, honking, making me shiver. I realized if he slammed on his brakes, we would crash into the back of the camper and die.  I had to keep my eyes wide open, starring at the back of the charred camper I never wanted to see again.  I was now convinced the 8 ball or the camper itself was evil and was trying to kill us, and its not over yet.

So I didn't blink for 100 miles.

My sister was following him, and looked into her rear view mirror to casually ask me how the rest of our trip went. I started screaming, "DAWN, KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD, DON'T LOOK AWAY!  WE'RE GOING TO SLAM INTO THE BACK OF HIM IF HE STOPS"!!!  She was like "Bev, CALM DOWN, you're safe now".  I was like "No Dawn, you don't understand, this trip is cursed, its the Magic 8 ball, its trying to kill all of us except Jacklyn, or at least hurt all of us except her, it wants us to think we're safe but we're not.  We're going to crash!".  I couldn't even blink.  She looked at me like I was crazy and said,  "Okkkkkk, ummm Bev, what 8 ball, what curse, what are you talking about?  Bev, an 8 ball can't cause a fire. Did something else happen besides the fire?"  I would have started laughing hysterically, but by this time I was traumatized.  I was freaking out and sure it was some sort of evil.

HOW IT ENDED:
The tow truck dropped off the burned up camper to our driveway at midnight and left.  The owner came, said sorry and towed it to the junk yard, said we could have left it in Missouri.  We could have missed that ride home following it, not blinking for 100 miles, and saved $300.  I wish he never told me that.

I got the worst of the smoke and fire.  I couldn't stop coughing up black soot for hours and had some small burns on my legs also.  I was afraid to drive to the hospital but my husband convinced me I needed to go. I was treated for smoke inhalation and released a few hours later.

My niece was NEVER allowed to bring her Ouji Board or her new Magic 8 Ball near me (just in case).

We didn't camp much after that, when we did, we pitched a tent, under the stars, on the cool ground, nature all around us, cooked on a campfire, the night air was our A/C and the outhouse was far enough away that I never had to smell old, toxic shit ever again.   And THOSE were the best camping trips.  We didn't need any of that stuff to have fun.  We had everything we needed, we only thought we needed more.

I don't see how this is one of my funny stories for my "might as well laugh about it" blog,  I'm not there yet.  My sister still can't bring up this night without laughing hysterically.  She always tells me at parties, "come on Bev, tell your camping trip story."  She says, "This all happened to them in 1 weekend camping trip!"  That's all she manages to get out before she starts laughing hysterically, remembering the look on my face that night she picked us up at that gas station in Missouri.  Now I'll tell them to read my blog so I don't have to retell this story.

I'm sure I'm forgetting a few horrible things that happened, this is the first time I'm writing it down.  I know that the Magic 8 ball was right, everyone was injured, including the dog, except for our niece Jacklyn, JUST LIKE THE MAGIC 8 BALL SAID!!!

Bev the SNAKE KILLER, 1998

Early Summer, 1998:
So, some of my friends requested I tell the story of why I am known as Bev the snake killer by my friends in Springfield, where we lived for 10 years.

When we 1st moved to the Springfield area, we found a house, 3 miles from the main road, that backed up to the woods, hiking trails out my back door, down the hill to the Sangamon River.  It was in between Springfield and Petersburg, IL (where my hubby worked).  The road to our house from the main road had corn fields on either side.  If there was a lot of snow, the blowing snow made the road just disappear and you're snowed in for days unless you have 4 wheel drive on your car.


There was about  a block stretch when you got way back in there, of about 10 houses, that all backed up to the woods and the river.  We lived in a duplex on that block.  It was like a Stephen King novel setting, way way back, very scary at night and during thunderstorms, giant trees falling all around you.  Out our back door was the woods, you could walk down the hill, down the trails along the river, hike, fish, bon fires on the little beach down there, 4 wheelin, etc.  Looked exactly like this pic below that I found on Google, without the tree swing (that would have been cool):

BUT there are also venomous snakes down there. 

  

SO one day, hubby was at work, our kids were like 5 and 6, they wanted to go in the yard with Max our dog (who was a giant Rottweiler and VERY protective of them). So they go through the mud room, into the back yard and I immediately hear Max barking, and the kids screaming.  As I was running towards the yard, they run past me screaming, "SNAKES"!!!


So I go out there, my neighbors on either side of us are looking out their windows by this time.  There are 2 GIANT red & yellow looking snakes (red & yellow = kill a fellow, as the saying goes), sunning themselves in my yard!  They must have made their way up from the river and they were sunning themselves.   I got a little closer to them and the big one started acting agressive and moving TOWARDS me.  My neighbors Missy & Tim were screaming out their window, "they're the poisonous ones,  get back!!!" 


But all I could think of was primal instinct.  Like a mother lioness, heat rising off of me, like, this is where my dog and children roam.  Seeing something, anything, being aggressive and deadly towards my children, made something  inside of me snap and I went TOWARDS them with a fury I've never felt.  I was thinking, you people sit back and watch.  I'm from Chicago.  I'm big, they're little.  They should have stayed away from my children.  I'll literally rip them apart. They should have stayed in the woods and the river where they belong.  Now they're gonna die.

I was looking for something to kill them with.  I expected them to head for the woods and river but they went for my home and retreated down a hole under my mud room!  OH, HELLLLL NO.  So I THOUGHT I had a great idea and got the gas can.  I POURED GAS DOWN THE HOLE UNDER MY HOUSE THEY HAD MADE and was looking for a light to light it.  Thank God I didn't find a light, my husband later told me that would have been BAD.  But as soon as the gas reached them, THEY CAME SHOOTING OUT, RIGHT AT ME!  I PICKED UP A STEEL SHOVEL (I had for scooping up the giant Rottweiler poop) AND HIT THE BIG ONE ON THE HEAD WITH THE SIDE OF THE SHOVEL SO HARD, I CHOPPED HIS HEAD RIGHT OFF!    But because we were up above the river and sandy shoreline, the ground was a dirt, clay and sand mixture and the shovel was now stuck in the ground from me using Superwoman strength to kill the first snake.  The second snake was coming TOWARDS me and her dead mate.  She didn't look happy.  I realized this is no garden snake showing this kind of aggression.   I finally got the shovel out of the ground and slammed it down on her midsection.  BABY SNAKES STARTED COMING OUT OF HER, LIKE 15-20 OF THEM!!!   I started smashing all I could with the shovel, cursing at them as I went along.   My neighbors were screaming, laughing and cheering out their windows, SNAKE KILLER, WHOO HOOO!!! 

While I was picking up the lifeless bodies of the 2 big snakes and throwing them into the woods some of the babies got away.  I'm sure they grew up to seek vengeance for their parents, I wouldn't know, we moved out after that.  

I've never been that way before or after in my life. In a killer rage. I was like a raging bull, steam coming off of me, my eyes wide and alert, like this is it, life or death. I thought, if I don't hit them hard enough, they'll just come after me and I was a long way from a hospital with anti-venom. 

All the neighbors bought me drinks that night. My nickname went from Chicago to Snake Killer.  And to this day, when I call my country friends Denise or Missy & Tim, they answer the phone "What's up Snake Killer!"  When I'm feeling sad or defeated, Denise still tells me, "COME ON NOW, YOU'RE TOUGH AS NAILS, REMEMBER, YOU'RE NOT JUST A HOUSEWIFE, YOU'RE  MY BEST FRIEND.   YOU'RE THE SNAKE KILLER FROM CHICAGO FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

It was unusual to see so many kinds of poisonous snakes, but that year we had record flooding, I think it was 1997 or 1998.  Two rattlesnakes were also killed at different times that summer in those same woods by another neighbor, Mr.Morrison.  Later that same summer, I was walking through the woods with our dog Max and I heard a rattle, so did Max, he wanted to go towards it, he knew by this time snakes were mama's enemy.  It was coming from under some leaves nearby, right off the side of the trail we were on.  Man, I've never run UP that hill that fast in my life.  We always walked with BIG STICKS after that. It was more fun getting down there on the 4 wheelers, less stressful getting to the beach.

SO, If you're from the big city, like Chicago, and you're transported to the country, like unincorporated Sangamon County, just know that your killer instincts go with you.  

We believe the snakes I killed that day were Copperheads.  They looked exactly like this:

POISONOUS SNAKES OF THE AMERICAS

American copperhead 
Agkistrodon contortrix

Description: Chestnut color dominates overall, with darker crossbands of rich browns that become narrower on top and widen at the bottom. The top of the head is a coppery color.

Characteristics: Very common over much of its range, with a natural camouflage ability to blend in the environment. Copperheads are rather quiet and inoffensive in disposition but will defend themselves vigorously. Bites occur when the snakes are stepped on or when a victim is lying next to one.  A copperhead lying on a bed of dead leaves becomes invisible.  Its venom is hemotoxic.

Habitat: Found in wooded and rocky areas and mountainous regions.

Length: Average 60 centimeters, maximum 120 centimeters.

Distribution: Eastern Gulf States, Texas, Arkansas, Maryland, North Florida, Illinois, Oklahoma, Kansas, Ohio, New York, Alabama, Tennessee, and Massachusetts.

I knew why she was being so aggressive after I saw she was about to give birth.  She was doing the same thing as me, protecting her young.  But I did what I had to do that day.  And then we moved back to the city.  I feel way safer walking around Chicago than the wilderness.   I thought I wanted the country life but I realized I'm Chicago at heart. 

The time I tried to teach my husband, aka "Bad News Benyamin", a lesson.

IT WAS EARLY 1998 (a year that sucked):

We had recently moved 200 miles south of Chicago to the outskirts of Springfield, Illinois because Lorens was offered a good job.  So I spent my days at home with our 4 & 5 year old.  Our house was in the middle of nowhere, 3 miles from the main road, in a Stephen King novel type setting.  It was in the woods, on a hill overlooking the river.  Lorens worked long hours, I was always alone, overnight, and I barely slept.  The sounds of the woods at night freaked this Chicago girl out!  

One day, Lorens and I were driving along in the car. A commercial came on the car radio, "Mighty Man Competition at the State Fair Grounds, Cash Prizes...."  He was saying how he should enter.  How I had no idea what a bad ass he was.  And I was laughing and said to Lorens, "That's just what I wish for."  He said "What?"  I said, "For you to go GET YOUR ASS KICKED." (but in a safe way, in a ring with gloves on).   

He's like, "Yeah?  They better pack a lunch!"

From then on, every time I heard that commercial come on the radio or TV, I'd picture him in a boxing ring, and it made me smile.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I love him to death, I didn't want to see him hurt, maybe just knocked down a few steps.  I was thinking, I bet if he was in the boxing ring with real fighters that would teach him a lesson, he's 33, he just THINKS hes still a tough guy.

I had heard all the stories from him and his friends about when they were younger, he definitely could take care of himself and his friends if need be.  But we didn't start dating until he was 23 so I had never actually seen him fight, never wanted to, and only 1/2 believed the stories.

I was enjoying the Mighty Man commercials WAY too much.  Then I THOUGHT I had a great idea.  I'll get my point across to him through humor.  Me and my practical jokes.  But he totally deserved it.

SO I SIGNED HIM UP FOR THE 1998 MIGHTY MAN COMPETITION 

AT THE ILLINOIS STATE FAIRGROUNDS IN SPRINGFIELD, IL. 

(WITHOUT TELLING HIM ABOUT IT.)

I thought, BOY, AM I GOING TO CALL HIS BLUFF!

I laughed the rest of the afternoon while I did my housework just thinking about the scared look I would see on his face for once. 

I couldn't WAIT to tell him.  

I thought he'd look nervous.  

I thought he'd say he had plans that weekend, LOL.  

When he got home from work, and we started arguing, I said, "Hey, remember how you said you're bad enough to kick ass in the Mighty Man Competition?  Well, guess what, I signed you up today! I guess now we're gonna see how tough you really are!"

I was waiting for him to look scared, instead, a smile came across his face.  I realized, he's TRULY happy, excited.  He couldn't wait to call the guy back!  

Lorens told him he didn't have a ring name.  The guy asked what our last name was, Lorens told him, and the guy said, "OK, then your ring name will be...",

LORENS BAD NEWS BENYAMIN

Lorens called my sisters husband Pat.  He asked Pat to be in his corner Friday night.  They were laughing, joking, so friggin excited, like little kids.  Pat came running right over, they went and got the mouth guard, etc. and stayed up drinking, talking about it, planning his technique,  like it was gonna be the damn Superbowl!

NO FAIR!!!  I couldn't stand it.  My plan had backfired.  

Lucyyyyyy, what have you done!!!!

The other fighters were 18-23.  Lorens was 33.  He was going to be the OLDEST GUY IN THE COMPETITION BY 10 YEARS.  I was still sure he'd be taught a lesson.

FRIDAY NIGHT:
We joked around before he left and I said, "OK, I'LL SEE THE REAL LORENS WHEN HE GETS HOME TONIGHT, I'VE MISSED HIM.  AND YOU?  YOU MR. TOUGH GUY, I HOPE YOU GET YOUR ASS KICKED."

I thought, I'll wait for him to come home, with his tail between his legs.  I'll bandage him up, put ice on his wounds, nurse him back to health, tell him I'm glad he learned his lesson, and I still love him, etc.

So late that night I  hear several cars pull into my driveway.  I hear laughing, cheering, etc.  And I thought, UT OHH.

I think, OK, damn it, I guess he won his fight but maybe he's got a black eye, fat lip, blood dripping, SOMETHING.  So I come downstairs and he opens a beer bottle using the counter, all cool like, and just looks at me, smiling.  I searched his face for a bump, bruise, blood, anything.  BUT THERE WAS NOTHING.

He was tired, relaxed.  The fight did help.  He was on cloud #9.  He gave me a big kiss and said he wished I would have seen him.  Getting in a fight DID mellow him,  he was calling me sweetie and babe again.  It must have released some endorphens or something.

He told me 1 MINUTE INTO THE SECOND ROUND, HE BROKE THE GUYS NOSE AND KNOCKED HIM OUT.   It was the ONLY knock out of the entire night.  He tells me he's fighting in the Finals tomorrow night.

I WANTED TO BE ANGRY.

BUT FOR SOME STRANGE REASON,
I WAS SUDDENLY VERY ATTRACTED TO HIM.

My plan had backfired, again.

DAMN IT LUCY!

SATURDAY NIGHT:
So I got a babysitter for Saturday night and went with him to the Finals. It was at the State Fair Grounds, it was huge, hundreds of people in the stands.

There was a mutual respect that night among the winning fighters walking around before their fights, talking to each other about last nights fights.  They all told Lorens:

 "Great fight last night man!",

"Hey, you're Bad News, right?",

 "Hey, this is the guy that had the knock out last night!"

Right then I stopped wanting him to get his ass kicked.

I was so proud he was MY husband.  I was trying to hold his hand, arm, shirt, pants, ANYTHING, looking at all the ring girls like, yeah, thats right, you BETTER keep walking, I'M with him, this is MY MAN.  I'M MRS. BAD NEWS, STAY BACK!

When it was Lorens' turn to fight and they said, "Introducing in this corner, LORENS, BAD NEWS, BENYAMINNNN" and the crowds in the stands started cheering.  I was like, "thats right, thats MY MAN!!!"

Lorens looked right at me and blew me a kiss and I felt like I was at a rock concert and he was the musician on stage you wanted to throw your clothes at.  AND HE WAS BLOWING A KISS TO ME!!!

So he fought.  It went all 3 rounds.  There were a lot of good punches from both and it was hard to call.  I thought Lorens had won, he delivered some brutal body shots.  Then they announced the other guy won in points.  The winner was suppose to go sit down and fight later.  But instead, the "winner" went up to the announcer after the fight and said he was hurt bad, he was having trouble breathing and he couldn't go on.  Even though Lorens lost the fight, Lorens had broken the guys ribs.

At the end of the night my husband, at 33, and at least 10 years older than everyone else, was given a Mighty Man Finalist trophy that sits in our china cabinet today.  We also have the fights on tape, but it was 1998, so they're on VHS.  When I figure out how to copy them, I'll post the fights.

Its not easy being a smoker, 33 years old and fighting hard 2 nights in a row.  But he did it.  Do you know why?  Because hes Lorens, Bad News, Benyamin, thats why, forever in my book.

Signed, Mrs. Bad News Benyamin.

Bev's BEST April Fools Day, 1993

A few weeks earlier, in March, 1993:
Well, it was time.  Time to go back to work.  I hadn't worked in 4 1/2 months. I had went into pre-term labor on October 15th, 1992 and was ordered to be on complete bed rest.  Jennifer was born healthy, 2 months later on December 15th, 1992 (read my story "Bev's closing day becomes so much more, 12/15/92" http://bev-benyamin.blogspot.com/2011/04/it-was-just-suppose-to-be-closing-day.html).  Then I took my 8 weeks maternity leave and 2 weeks vacation.  She was 10 weeks old when I went back to work in March, 1993.  

My boss, thinking after 4 1/2 months off of work, I should be well rested and ready to conquer the world, was not pleased with 'BEV THE RAG DOLL' that had returned from maternity leave.  I didn't care.  Jennifer had Colic and spent much of the first 3 months of life crying at all hours for no apparent reason.  I would try everything to soothe her in the middle of the night.  I would feed her, change her, sing to her, rock her in my arms near running water, give her gas drops and if that didn't work I would take her for walks in the stroller down my block at 3am hoping the motion would  be enough to soothe her back to sleep.  


And so at work, I was ready for a nap ALL THE TIME.  I didn't see how other working moms did this and I was feeling overwhelmed.

APRIL 1, 1993 - APRIL FOOLS DAY:
About a week after I came back from maternity leave, I was at work, thinking maybe I would have the energy to cook a nice dinner tonight and come up with a good April Fools joke on Lorens.  This was almost like a holiday for us.  We spend every day laughing, joking, playing jokes on each other.  Today is the day set aside for that and we both normally love it.  But not this year, I was exhausted and as the morning went on I didn't give the date another thought.  

I was in the bathroom when the flu symptoms started.  I was so dizzy I thought I might pass out, I had hot and cold chills, was throwing up and wanted to go home sick.  I was thinking, maybe thats why I've been so drained the last few weeks, I have the flu or an infection.

So I went to the Immediate Care Center on my lunch break.  They examined me, took a urine sample and told me the doctor would be right in.  


The doctor came in and said, "Well, its not the flu, YOU'RE PREGNANT!"  


I said, "Oh, no, that's not possible. I've already HAD the baby, shes at the babysitters.  The pregnancy hormone must still be in my system".  That was the only possible explanation to me at that moment.


I WAS THINKING, WHAT A STUPID, DUMB ASS DOCTOR THIS IS, HE SHOULD KNOW THESE THINGS AND NOT GO SCARING WOMAN THAT ALREADY HAD THEIR BABIES.


He started laughing at me and gently touched my arm, all concerned, patting my arm like I was a crazy person and said, "NOOOOO, THIS IS A WHOLE NEW BABY MRS. BENYAMIN".    Turns out he wasn't the dumb ass, I was.

And as it sunk in, I started backing away from him until I was against the wall.  The room started spinning and I thought I was gonna pass out again.  He said, "Please, sit down, can I call someone? Is this bad news?"  I said "No, I'm just in shock." 

The doctors all said I only had a 10% chance of EVER getting pregnant.  We tried for over 3 YEARS and went through countless fertility tests and treatments.  I finally got pregnant with Jen because I was put on the fertility drug Clomid.  Jennifer was a miracle, we all call her our miracle baby.  I thought I might not ever get pregnant again.  Now here I was, 11 WEEKS LATER, against the back wall of the exam room, PREGNANT...AGAIN!  


THE DOCTOR WAS STILL TALKING TO ME, SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT SETTING UP AN ULTRASOUND, BUT HIS VOICE WAS MUFFLED, LIKE THE ADULTS IN THE CHARLIE BROWN CARTOONS (WA WA WA WA).  


I was remembering the Strawberry Margarita pitchers Lorens made for us when Jen was about 8 weeks old, on a schedule and not suffering from Colic that night.  She went to sleep by 9pm and Lorens said now it was "OUR time".  He said the Margaritas were suppose to be that strong.  He said I never looked better.  Lorens, DAMN HIM!  This was all his fault, him and that damn Don Julio Tequila!  It made me happy, carefree, AND PREGNANT AGAIN!!! 

I called Lorens at work......

Me, "Hi honey, I'm back from the doctor"
Lorens, "Is it the flu"?
Me, "Ha ha, I wish",  He said I'm pregnant"
Lorens, "HA HA , APRIL FOOLS!, OK, YOU GOT ME, THATS A GOOD ONE."
Me, "What the hell are you talking about? Oh yeah, its April Fools day, I forgot.  And anyway, I don't care what day it is, LORENS, I'M PREGNANT!".
Lorens, "Bev, you're NOT gonna get me.  I admit it, you've come up with a few good ones over the years, and this IS a good one, but there's no way I buy this crock, nice try."
Me, "I'm so angry at you right now that if you laugh at me one more time I'm going to hang up on you."
Lorens, (hysterically laughing now), "Oh, now that's a good one, now you're going to be mad at me, right? So I'll think you're serious, right?  HA HA HA, you're funny, now knock it off.  I've got to work late, you're full of shit, don't talk to me about it again until tomorrow, we'll see about all this tomorrow, HA HA HA".

SO I HUNG UP ON HIM.  

When I got home from work that night I called my parents and sister and told them.  I needed someone to talk to about this.  I was freaking out.  I was a month pregnant with an 11 week  old baby upstairs.  He walked in from work, heard me on the phone, assumed it was all part of the joke and chimed in,  "Ha Ha, BOY BEV, YOU'RE GOING ALL OUT WITH THIS ONE!  EVEN BRINGING YOUR FAMILY INTO IT, HA HA HA".  I was so angry I decided not to try and convince him anymore and I went to bed.

In the morning he turns over and said, with that STUPID smirk still on his face, "So, are you STILL pregnant?"

Me, "Yes I am.  And I'm going to be pregnant for another 8 months.   Welcome to year 2 of me being pregnant buddy.  And do you know those maternity clothes of mine and giant underwear you wanted me to burn?  I'll be wearing those all of 1993.  You're going to have to get a second job because we won't be able to afford daycare for 2 infants and I'm not speaking to you!"  Then I started crying and went into the shower, leaving him in bed with his mouth hanging open.

Lorens opened the shower curtain a few minutes later.  He was as white as a ghost, mouth still open.  He just stood there, staring at me, until I screamed "What?  What do you want?"  He said, "YOU'RE STILL PREGNANT?  TODAY?  BUT, BUT, TODAY IS APRIL 2ND",  looking all confused, like me yesterday in the doctors office.  


He was waiting for the "HA HA, APRIL FOOLS" announcement that wasn't going to come. 

NOW I BEGAN TO LAUGH!!!!

He sat down on the side of the tub, looking confused.  Poor Lorens, he wasn't there yet.  He kept mumbling, "But its April 2nd now".  I already had 24 hours to deal with this.  He was in shock.  Good.  He deserved it.  Thank you Karma!!!  Ha ha.  

And that was the best April Fools day prank I ever got to pull, and it wasn't even a prank!!! In my opinion, it was the year I didn't have the strength for a prank, and so it was God's way of playing April Fools with us!  It was both of our favorite April Fools Day ever.

And if on April 1st, you happen to see that my Facebook account says my birthday is on April 1st, thanks for the birthday wishes, but my birthday is actually November 7th....GOTCHA.   HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY.

UPDATE:

Michael was born on December 5, 1993, 11 months after our daughter Jennifer.  We got pulled over by the police for speeding on our way to the hospital but he let us go when he saw Lorens was telling the truth and I really was in labor.  It took almost 30 hours of labor in the hospital and Mike and I both struggled, but survived, barely.  I was ordered to be on complete bed rest for 2 weeks after he was born (with a newborn and an 11 month old, so that didn't happen).  Michael had to be rushed to Children's Memorial Hospital for what they thought was a life threatening problem, but survived.  

So we know how lucky we are to have a healthy girl and boy, even though they came so close together.  Michael was at Jen's 1st birthday party.  Our "Irish" twins.  Less than a year apart but not really twins so there were no twin clubs or networks for support.  We needed 2 cribs, a double stroller, 2 hi chairs, they both needed to be carried, both in diapers, etc, etc.  I even got a stress fracture in my forearm from holding a baby 24/7 and had a hard cast on for almost 2 months.  It was hard work, but they had us, each other, they were best friends, truly like having twins. 

Christmas, 1993.  I was still ill.

Jen was 1, Mike was almost 3 weeks old.

March, 1994.  Feeling much better.

Jen was 15 months old, Mike was 3 months old.

The time went by so quickly.  Jennifer leaves for college in a few months, Michael is a senior in high school.  He's 6'3" and wears a size 18 shoe I have to have special ordered.  I'm lucky I survived his birth to see it all, and I try to appreciate my children everyday.