An Ordinary Man: The Autobiography of Harold Cunningham by Harold Cunningham - HTML preview

Old Harold 2010

• • •

Since I had been working for the rental company for so long, I had made friends with a lot of contractors around the area. I called on them and told them I was in business for myself. Soon I started getting calls and a lot of good jobs. I got acquainted with the owner of a recycling center. His name was Chris Arata. He was an Italian man and for some reason I‘ve always been able to get along really good with Italians.

The first job I got with Chris was repairing the arms on a front end loader bucket. This machine was used to push paper and cardboard into a pit bailer where it was compressed and made into a bale weighing about fourteen hundred pounds. The man, a welder named Henry, that had been doing all of Chris‘ work came to me and asked me to trade jobs with him. I was working for a roofing company named California Roofing Co. Henry wanted to work for this roofing company, but for some reason didn‘t want to work for Chris.

Anyway, Mike Fuquay, the man who was the supervisor for the plant called me to fix the braces and support brackets that connected the arms of the tractor to the front bucket. I took one look at the welding Henry had been doing and knew the only thing to do was cut all of his old work off and start over and install all new braces. Henry had welded over and over the same place so many times with all types of welding rods and even tried to braze it at one time. I took out my cutting torch and proceeded to cut all this old welding and braces off.

I then started putting all new braces back on and welding them the way they were supposed to be. Anyway, Mike had asked me to come over at ten o‘clock in the morning as that was their break time. The break time must have been thirty minutes long for Mike came out and asked me if I was through yet. I told him that I wasn‘t and that it was going to take a while longer. Around eleven thirty Chris came out and wanted to know how much longer before the tractor would be ready. I told him approximately one more hour.

He told me, ―Well, the other welder always fixed it in about thirty minutes.‖ I told Chris,

―If you expect me to do the same kind of sorrow job that the other man was doing, you don‘t need to call me anymore.‖

After the machine was fixed and it was running good and it didn‘t break again, Chris called me and asked if I could put new rails on a new roll off truck that he and his dad Mel Arata had just acquired. This truck was going to be the one that Chris would be driving and he wanted it as soon as I could get it done.

Chris asked me if I could get the job completed in one day. I looked the job over and said that I thought I could if we could go over to the steel outlet and obtain the right kind of steel. We got the steel and I started work on this truck about ten o‘clock in the morning.

That evening, Chris asked me if I could stay that night and have the truck ready to go by six o‘clock the next morning as he wanted to drive it the next day. I never gave him a positive answer that I could complete the job, but I would try.

I had an AA friend of mine come over and stand fire guard for me that evening. His name was or is John Perry. John stood fire guard for me until midnight. He then had to leave go home and rest as he had his own business to take care of the next day. When Chris came in at six o‘clock the next morning I was just finishing up the last weld. I told Chris the truck was ready and then Chris told me, ―Man, you have got a job with me from now on.‖

Chris kept his word. He had me busy on his equipment or he would think of someone else that needed a welder. Chris was a wild young guy, but he helped many guys out. Seems he always was helping someone to go into business for themselves.

Getting back to Mike this man was one of the hardest workers and all around good men on any job I had ever worked on. He was always right there to help me make it down the road again. I worked for them all the way to my having to give up my welding career. I know most people won‘t believe this, but having to give up my welding because I was getting too old was like losing my faithful old dog Daisy.

After starting to work for Chris and his dad Mel, doing their repairs and Chris introducing me to other men in the recycling business I was so busy I couldn‘t keep up. I was working sixteen and eighteen hour days. I was charging fifty dollars an hour and that was about twenty five dollars under the going price. A couple of the other portable welders in San Jose called me one evening and told me I was going to have to go up on my prices as I was making them look bad. I told them the only reason they looked bad and couldn‘t get much work was because they were charging too much and was greedy wanting to make a lot and rest a lot.

• • •

Today things didn‘t go right

I got in the way.

Old Harold – 2010

• • •

I forgot to write about buying a new home for Vangie and myself in San Jose. This was a real lovely home in a track, and the sales lady said it was the last home in this track then they were going to start a new track of homes right across the street, but they would be about ten thousand more. That house was on sale for forty four thousand dollars. I needed twenty percent down so I sold my welding truck I had brought up form Victorville.

I also sold my new 1975 Model International four wheel drive pickup I had bought in Victorville before I lost the shop. I needed one thousand seven hundred dollars more to get the down payment. I went to Chuck Johnisee and asked him if he could loan me the money.

He did and Vangie and I moved into this new home. This was about the time we had been married for a year. It was the first home she had ever had. She was very happy fixing the house up and working in the yard.

One evening after work at the Rental Yard I came home, ate, sat down to watch some T.V. with Vangie, and I watched T.V. until about ten P.M. when she went to bed. I was watching a movie and did not go to bed. About eleven P.M. she got up and told me to turn the T.V. off and go to bed as she couldn‘t go to sleep with the T.V. on. I told her that I was going to finish watching the movie since we had separate beds it wasn‘t‘ like I would disturb her when I went to bed.

About eleven thirty the movie was over, so I went in to go to bed. Well, she had locked me out of the bedroom. I knocked on the door several times, but didn‘t get any response.

I got pretty mad and went out to the garage and got me a hammer and some sixteen penny nails. I came back in and nailed her up in the bedroom. She couldn‘t get out through the windows as some very tough bushes had been planted along the outside.

I went to sleep on the divan and the next morning about the time for me to go to work I could hear her in there trying to get out. I went in and pulled the nails out so she could free herself from the bedroom. She never ever locked me out of anything again.

• • •

One of the mechanics that worked for me was under my supervision at U.S. Rental had been hired on by Ingersoll Rand in San Leandro, California about forty miles North of San Jose. They were having trouble finding a portable welder capable of performing maintenance on their equipment. The foreman for Ingersoll Rand called me and wanted me to come up and see him about some work he needed to get done. I did this one job and from then on I was doing all there outside work plus some inside their plant.

I started traveling all over Northern California and in Northern Nevada. Ingersoll had several drilling machines working in the gold mines. I had to install new modifications often on the drill rigs. They paid me their wages that they charged their customers for their portable mechanics, plus motel and dining fees, they even paid me fifty dollars a day for tips. This was a Fantastic place to work.

There was an AA friend by the name of Glenn Whitten who had been hanging around my shop wanting to learn how to weld. Anyway, I told Glenn to go to welding school because I didn‘t have enough time to teach him. He did plus hanging around my shop he got to where he could weld good.

Harold at Arata Western Recycling

Glenn was of German decent and good wasn‘t good enough. Now I started turning over some work to Glenn because I didn‘t have time to do it all. After awhile Glenn became one of the best welders I have known. We were working jobs together and we was always honest with each other and Glenn is still one of my best friends. He lives in El Paso now and I plan on going by to see him this September, 2010.

• • •

A friend of mine said drowning was the easiest way to die, but he didn‘t have any experience.

Old Harold 2010

• • •

Sometime in 1980 Vangie and I decided to move out of San Jose somewhere in the country. Vangie had a horse when we got married named Comanche. He was a nice horse and really gentle. I had bought a horse trailer at an auction from one of the rental companies. I completely rebuilt it from the hitch to back doors. Vangie was retired from the telephone company now so we were doing parades all around Northern California.

Vangie wanted to get an Arabian mare with a costume that was very expensive. The new horse was six thousand dollars and the costume was three thousand two hundred dollars. I went along with it so she bought this horse which was sorrel in color and then this costume which was maroon colored.

Now at this time we were keeping the horses in a stable which costs were about one hundred fifty dollars a month plus feed, vet bills, and the Farrier. The costs were beginning to get out of hand so I suggested we sell the house and buy a piece of property out in the country. Vangie was all for this so we started to shop around. We found a real nice five acre parcel on the outskirts of Hollister, California.

This was a nice piece of property and I thought a bargain at sixty five thousand dollars.

We put a down payment on the property then I got one of my friends from the AA group I attended who was a highly regarded real estate agent. We put our house on the market for one hundred fifty thousand dollars. We were offered one hundred forty five thousand.

We took the offer and sold the house. My friend didn‘t take his regular fee for selling the house so we were able to pay cash for the property in Hollister. We located a good contractor who started building a 2100 square foot house, ranch type. This house would cost us seventy nine thousand dollars. So we almost had enough money to pay for it as well. Vangie and I purchased a twenty five foot camping trailer and we moved that onto the property to live in until the house was completed.

While I was driving into San Jose each day to work so I could keep my welding business going, Vangie proceeded to overlook the construction of the house. Nearly every day I would have to go talk to the contractor to keep him from quitting. Vangie was so picky about everything. I tried to get her to leave the contractor alone. Then one day, I came home and found out she had been harassing the contractor and when she started back to the trailer he jumped in his jeep and tried to run her down. I think she had to do a lot of running and dodging.

Just so happened there was another contractor across the street that saw it all and came running over to help Vangie because the man had got out of his jeep and was chasing Vangie on foot. Anyway, this man ran the irate contractor off and I had to find another contractor. I had to finally talk to the construction company building the house and we got the contractor to complete the house as long as Vangie would stay away. I guess that taught Vangie a lesson because she never bothered the guy again. In the evening we both would go over to the house and inspect what had been done. Vangie seemed to be satisfied with this so the house got completed.

• • •

There was a time I thought a lot about government. Then I lost my thought.

Old Harold 2010

• • •

While the house was being built I was also building a barn and stables along with a riding arena and a dog run at night and on the weekends. I wasn‘t going fast enough on the barn for Vangie. She came out where I was working on the barn and stables and told me she wanted to get her horses down there. She didn‘t think I should be building a ―Cadillac barn‖ all she wanted was a simple barn. I didn‘t pay any attention to her or even to hear what she was griping about.

I was building a really nice barn and stables along with a large riding arena, and a large dog run. Later, she was happy, happy, happy with her new quarters for her horses. Vangie could be the most loving person and turn on you in an instant and be as mean as a junk yard dog. I also built a horse walker for her so she could exercise them without being physically involved.

• • •

Going to New York catch

a freight train going South

Old Harold 2010

• • •

When I got home one night she told me she wanted to buy another horse an Arabian gelding which was silver and grey. I got a little hot and told her she didn‘t need another horse. The next evening when I got home she had the silver gelding in one of the stables.

Of course, I was upset and I was really upset when I walked in the house and asked her how she had paid for this new horse. She had used my master card and bought it. I think that is where our relationship started to disintegrate. We had been married by this time for about ten years.

Vangie started accusing me of staying out late, drinking, and running around with other women. I asked her how in the hell I could be doing all those things and still be bringing home two or three thousand dollars every week. Anyway, she cut off all activities with me such as sex and cooking for me. The last part didn‘t hurt because she never could boil water.

I continued along trying to think of what to do. This went on for almost four years. We went to counseling and the counselor was taking my side somewhat. I brought up the fact that she had accused me of putting rat turds in her linen drawers and even had turned me into the narcotics department of the police for taking dope. I got to the point that I did not want to go home. I would get off work where ever the job was, start driving home, and be thinking, ―What the hell is she going to accuse me of doing today?‖ Sometimes I would think, ―Hell, I‘ll just keep on going right down the highway.‖ but I never did. I always kept thinking, today will be different. One thing is for sure, I was not going to give up that home and property without a real fight.

Making up my mind was hard to do, but I finally did. My friend Chuck Johnisee who had started another rental business in Morgan Hill had a new fifth wheel trailer that he had used once. He had paid about thirty thousand dollars for it and told me I could have it for ten thousand dollars. So, I bought it and had it moved to an R.V. park located in San Juan Bautista which was about eight miles from Hollister.

Vangie had purchased two tickets to the Grand National Rodeo at the Cow Palace in Daily City near San Francisco. When it was time to go, she asked me if I was going and I said, ―No.‖ She drove up by herself. When she left, I packed up my clothes and some other stuff that I needed and moved over to the trailer where I had it parked. I had built myself a nice large shop on the five acres right past the barn so I had my portable welding truck locked in the shop.

I put new padlocks on the shop so Vangie couldn‘t get into it. She spent the night with her sister Bev who lived in San Carlos, California which is just a little way from Daly City.

When I wasn‘t home I don‘t know what she did, but when I came that evening to park my truck she wanted to know where I had been. I told Vangie, ―I don‘t want to live with you any longer. I can no longer do anything right in your eyes, so it‘s best we go our separate ways.‖ She didn‘t seem to care or there was hardly any reaction from her at all. I filed for divorce and after the man delivered the papers to her I think it caught her attention that I had really left. We put the house up for sale and in the meantime she wanted to know where she was going to go. I told her that I would not abandon her since she and I already owned three acres at the Lake Don Pedro subdivision at or near LaGrange, California about eighty five miles from Hollister and maybe forty five miles from Yosemite National Park.

I told her she could have that three acres to build a house on, but it wasn‘t level enough for her to take her horses and build shelters for. We looked around Lake Don Pedro and found a really nice level three acre parcel that she really liked. I took her down to the real estate office and she bought the parcel.

Our house sold quickly in Hollister and since I had all the property paid for except for about forty thousand dollars. We got enough money for each fifty percent share which was about one hundred sixty thousand dollars each. This was more than enough to build a house for each of us.

She took charge of getting her a nice house built. I fenced in about two and a half acres, built her a dog run, shelter for the horses, and a riding arena. I built myself a two story house about half mile from her house. Our divorce was final by this time, but I maintained a friendly relationship with her and she would call me when she needed help.

I reminded her that I never intended to abandon her that I would try to keep her safe and secure.

• • •

You think photo albums aren‘t history? Get a divorce watch the little lady tear it up.

Old Harold 2010

• • •

Vangie and I had lived together or been married for thirteen years. She kept the Chevy Suburban and little Plymouth car that we had bought. She made friends with some of the horsey people living there. The Lake Don Pedro subdivision had been advertized to be horse friendly. There were riding trails everywhere. The Lake Don Pedro Subdivision was a huge place.

I was still working for all my customers in San Jose and the surrounding cities. I had a good place to live in my fifth wheel trailer and it didn‘t‘ cost me much to rent a space in the R.V. park.

There was this beautiful blond lady that was working for Chuck Johnisee at his large rental yard in Morgan Hill, California. I was doing quite a bit of work for Chuck. I was fabricating truck beds for him. He had the Ford truck dealership in San Jose. His brother-in-law and I installed them on several Ford trucks of all sizes.

Anyway, this lady‘s name was Patricia Ann Baker. She was in charge of all the catering equipment. We got to know each other and started to date some.

She had three children, one girl and two boys. Keith, the oldest was twenty one and was already a D.J. for KTOM radio station in Salinas, California. Then there was her daughter Vicci, about seventeen or eighteen. Her youngest boy, Michael was about seven years old. Patti and I dated for about a year, then one day, we decided to get married. She was

renting an apartment or duplex where her mother Ernestine Baker was residing with her and the kids.

Patti and I decided we would build a house on the three acres that I now owned at Lake Don Pedro. Patti and I liked to recycle along the highways and stores that had a lot of cardboard. We would pick up bottles, cans, and cardboard and then take them to one of the recyclers I knew and sell them.

We started a separate savings account for all the different things we were recycling. This was the money we were to use to buy all the new furniture for the new house. We managed to save two thousand seven hundred dollars.

I was really happy to be moving away from Morgan Hill because I did not like the neighborhood where Patti lived. I thought Mike would start hanging around with the wrong crowd. This really started another adventure. I bought a double wide mobile home and had a pad made on my property. It took five cases of dynamite to blow out the side of a hill where I wanted the house.

Before I could build or put the mobile home on the pad it would require me to build a retaining wall on one side and on one end. I thought if I have to build two walls out of blocks and concrete why not build four walls all around. So I had an architect draw up plans for me. I wanted to make the bottom of the house into living quarters and a double garage. I hired a friend of mine in AA who was a contractor to build the bottom story for thirty thousand dollars. We made a contract up and got the job going.

Harold and Patti

This sub structure was put on solid granite. It was fun watching him try and dig footings for the foundation. I told him not to try and make a trench for the footings; just drill holes in the solid granite where the footings would go then drive rebar into the holes, set his blocks over them and pour the concrete into them. He seemed to think he couldn‘t do that because it wouldn‘t pass inspection.

The county inspector came by to make contact and courtesy call. We hadn‘t called for an inspection. He saw what the contractor was trying to do and he asked the contractor,

―Why don‘t you drill holes in the granite, put rebar in, and set your blocks?‖ We got the bottom half finished then everyone including the salesman at the mobile home agency wanted to know how I was going to get the top half or the double wide on top. I had met a man while driving around the area that owned a large crane and did work for anyone needing a crane. I took him over to my parcel and showed him the mobile home and that I needed it lifted on top of the structure I had already built. He looked it all over and told me, ―I‘ll be here in the morning to hoist your mobile home into place.‖

He arrived about nine A.M. and by that time we had an audience. People were sitting on every rock around the area and in their cars waiting to see this operation. I don‘t know how the word got out. This crane operator knew what he was doing. He picked up the first half, let the crane move very slowly with a very minimum of any movement, then he eased it down over the bottom half of the house and let it down into place.

The mobile home agency that sold me this unit was responsible for tying the two sections of the house together so they were the ones telling the crane operator what to do. He moved back to where the other half was and picked it up, moved very slowly down the drive way, set it in place and that was the end of that part of the plan. The mobile home crew told me the crane operator had set the two sections so nearly perfect they only had to move one side three quarters of an inch to make them fit together.

One day while working on the house building a deck, stairs and installing the garage doors downstairs, this man drove down the driveway and introduced himself as a member of the homeowners association. He informed me that I would have to go down to the office and have someone look over my prints and pay three hundred seventy five dollars to get an okay to finish building this house. Since I already had a lot of trouble getting my permits from the county, I was a little bit peeved. I never did like homeowners associations anyway.

So I looked him right in the eye with that old drill sergeant look and informed him he was on my property and for him to get right back in his car and get the hell out of my sight.

I also told him, ―No one will be coming on my property without my permission so next time you need to call and get my okay to visit because if you can‘t I am going to take that shotgun over there and blow your damn legs off at the knees!‖ I never heard anymore from the homeowners association.

• • •

Patti and I got the house all completed except for the stairs and decks, which I had to install myself. Until we got the decks and stairs installed we had to climb a make shift ladder that I built. We had a big dog which was half Alaskan Husky and half German Sheppard. I had to take her in my arms and carry her up the stairs.

I designed and fabricated all the stairs and hand rails around the upper decks. Our dog‘s name was Daisy, and at night when she wanted to go to the potty and wanted out she wouldn‘t got out by herself. She was like a little kid, so one of us had to take a flash light and go out with her. We had lots of rattlesnakes, Daisy would find one and she would circle the snake out of its striking range barking all the time until someone could go to her and kill the snake. Daisy was a smart dog.

Patti and I were down on the highway along side of the Merced River recycling which we liked to do. A dog started barking at us, but we couldn‘t locate his hiding place. He was finally located under an old log that had fallen down. I talked to him and all I had to offer him was some Ritz crackers, but he slowly came over to me. I saw he was bleeding from the left side of his head. We made friends with him and he got right in the pickup with us.

He was a Dalmatian, a really nice dog. I took him to the vet to check out the wound and the vet said that someone had shot him. There was no bullet left in his head just a hole in the skin on his left jaw. We named him Lucky. Well, Lucky and Daisy became good friends. They were always together. There were a lot of gophers around so Daisy would find holes then bark a couple of times then Lucky got to do all the digging. She just sat back and watched.

One time down by the little dry creek Daisy spotted a skunk so she ran down with Lucky right behind her. Daisy remained quite a ways from the skunk barking. Old Lucky figured he would just go right in and catch the skunk. The skunk turned and sprayed him right in the face. Old Lucky came up to the house sick as he could be. He was throwing up and stunk so bad a person couldn‘t go near him.

• • •

Life is like a ball of twine, it starts out itty bitty.

The more threads you add the bigger the ball gets, Until finally the ball gets too large to roll it forward any Longer, you need help that‘s when you become Humble and ask for it…Help! Oh God Help!

Old Harold 2010

• • •

The ol‘ homestead, Don Pedro, CA

After Patti and I got the house in good shape we had to start on the rest of the property.

We made Patti‘s mom a nice little apartment downstairs. Mike had his own room and we set aside a nice little room for Sissy (AKA Vicci), but she didn‘t stay around very long.

I had to continue to work as my retirement checks didn‘t give me enough money to maintain the house and property. Patti wasn‘t happy about me going down to San Jose every day to work. Most of the time I rented a motel room and stayed in it for four nights.

On my way home from San Jose one afternoon I was driving down Merced Falls Road towards Don Pedro where our house was located. When I got to Merced Falls which at one time was a large mining town during the gold rush days I needed to use a bathroom really bad. Merced Falls had a single beer joint and it was closed. They advertized that Merced Falls was so small they didn‘t have enough people to have a town drunk so they took turns.

Anyway, PG&E, a power generating company had a small dam and generating plant on the Merced River where they had made accommodations for people to fish above the dam. They had built a parking lot and also an outhouse. The outhouse was built with cinder blocks with one stool and a metal door you could lock.

I parked my little blue ford ranger near the outhouse and left my keys in the truck with the motor running, thinking I would only be a minute. There were no other people around, no cars, and no one fishing.

I went in and relieved myself, not locking the door. I only closed the door for I didn‘t intend to hang around, but for a few minutes. When I started to leave the door was locked and I couldn‘t get it to open. I thought maybe someone had put a wedge in front of the door so I couldn‘t get out so they could steal my truck.

There was only one window and it was very small right near the top of the building, but there was nothing to stand on to even see out of the window. The door had a grate or an air filter cut out at the bottom. There was a perforated piece of sheet metal screwed on both sides covering the hole. The opening was about twenty four inches wide and about twelve inches high. Since I didn‘t have a screw driver on me or anything else to take the screws out or off I was still in a fix.

This building had been built handicap, or wheel chair friendly. It had hand holds installed on the walls. These hand holds were approximately three feet long bolted into the cinder block walls with lag bolts and lead shields. Since lag bolts had been used to install theses hand holds I knew if I could get them loosene