A couple of three-hundred ton dump trucks were parked right across the street from our building, along with a few fifty-ton bulldozers. The magnetic attraction those big rigs had on me, my older brothers, and friends was overwhelming. We ran across the street, all knowing the last one to the dump trucks and bulldozers was a “rotten egg”! We pushed, pulled, kicked, punched, and tried to hold each other back in order to get up on the driver’s seat first.
After slipping past a few of the older guys, I made it first to the top of a bulldozer and onto the driver’s seat. Being excited and proud of myself, I boasted of my accomplishment to the boys below screaming loudly, “I’m King of The Hill!”. Then, in all of the commotion and excitement, my attention was diverted and I slipped off the driver’s seat.
My face slammed full force onto the pool ball-sized stick shift. My right eye took the brunt of the fall, and, to make matters worse, the gobs of grease on the handle of the stick shift filled my watery eye. I ran home screaming and crying in pain, with an excited trail of onlookers following right behind me into our apartment. The injury certainly put an exclamation point on my day, but I survived!