DRIVE DOWN THE EAST COAST OF THE UNITED STATES
October 26, 2024 – December 10, 2024
I was up just before sunrise (0715 hours) and I went to Planet Fitness just to use the bathroom and the hydromassage bed. I set my GPS for Tampa after sending out more visitation requests. I hit the road in reactively balmy 6-degree Celsius weather. I want to get to Florida quickly, but driving the 3,000 km to Tampa is going to take a few days. If it weren’t for me keeping copious notes in my diaries (I am completing volume #4), I would be absolutely lost. Sometimes, the road flies past so fast, and I have a hard time remembering where I was a few days earlier.
I traversed the border from New Brunswick to Maine at one of the many provincial crossings. Route 1A West took me to Route 9 W, and I began my journey down the east coast of the USA. These more minor roads allowed me to take in the splendour of the Fall leaves and the plethora of Trump signs in front of residences and businesses (Biden signs are much less prevalent, and these were seldom staked at domiciles). The critically important election is looming (Nov. 5th!). I changed my car’s odometer and speed indicator to miles (only the US, Liberia, and Myanmar use this Imperial System of measurement).
I stopped in the quaint old city of Gardiner to look at a few monuments, one commemorating the local men who died in the war of 1861 “that their country might live”. This was, of course, the American Civil War between the North (the Union) and the South (the Confederacy), which was mainly about the power of the national government and the South’s wish to maintain and expand slavery (something the apparently anti-racist modern Democrats seem to forget about). A little over 4 years (and 700,00 deaths) later, the Union ruled, and the process of ending slavery began.
Yet another graveyard draws me in at Wells, Maine, where I found a grave from 1867 (aged 86), the year Canada formed a country. I roll out of Maine on the I-95 and into New Hampshire over the Piscataqua River Bridge, then on quickly through Massachusetts and to Norwalk, Connecticut, where I found another Walmart suitable for car camping. Trump fever is everywhere! There are so many immigrants crowding this store. An employee checks all receipts.
I wake up early in 2-degree Celsius weather and get on the I-95 South, which has been sporadically congested. How do people commute like this? Since my contacts have not favoured a visit, I shoot through New York City, crossing the Hudson River via the lower tier of the George Washington Bridge. After NYC, Highway I-95 becomes far less congested, and I rip through New Jersey and into Delaware on I-295 via the Delaware Memorial Bridge. I tried to gas up at Newport, only to find that my credit card failed. My debit card is also not working, so I find myself searching for American bills and coins in my car to get 80% of a tank of gas. After making multiple calls over three frustrating hours to my credit card company and credit union, I was still unable to rectify my problems. The best I could do was to have a new credit card mailed to my friend Calvina’s place in Largo, Florida, and hope that I could exchange some of the other currencies I was carrying for American dollars. I go to a nearby bank but cannot do a direct exchange from Canadian to US dollars unless I am a bank member. I found a casino in Hanover, Maryland and located a money exchange kiosk where I exchanged Canadian dollars and Euros for USD, so I now have enough gas money to get to Largo, Florida.
I found a Planet Fitness in Fort Meade, Maryland, so I hit this gym. I am once again filled with angst, but I manage to fall asleep by 0100 hours. I decided not to visit the Washington Monument, fearing that the driving and parking would be difficult (as per my internet research on this matter). I passed through Virginia and made it to Planet Fitness in Lumberton, North Carolina, for a workout. I crashed in 22-degree weather. It got warm fast! I contacted my police pal Tabyrn LEE, a control tactics trainer with the Los Angeles Police Department. He will set me up for a great visitation. I worked out again in the morning, showered up, and hit the road. There are some slowdowns on the I-95 S due to hurricane damage. I moved through Georgia, and I actually found “Waldo”, a town in northern Florida. I managed to arrive at Calvina’s place in Largo by 2200 hours. After 900 km of driving, I was treated to a drink of Bumbu, the best rum on the planet, and I crashed hard by midnight.
I woke up on Halloween, October 31st, feeling very tired. I went with Calvina to visit her neighbours for dinner, and while they gave out candies to the trick-or-treaters. It’s a tight-knit neighbourhood. Wow, it’s been a long time since I faced kids like these having fun. I am the Halloween equivalent of Scrooge, as I turn off my lights and watch TV in the dark. The following morning, I participated in a yoga class with my gracious host, Calvina. These old bones of mine make me feel like rigor mortis has set in. I finally reached an NYPD contact, Lt. Steven LEBOVIC, thanks to the VPD’s efforts (thanks, VPD Supt. Kevin BERNARDIN!). I set up a few other visits to Tallahassee, New Orleans, and Los Angeles (all for naught, as it turned out). I took Calvina and her friends, Rick and Renee, out to dinner in memory of my recently deceased stepmother, Yvonne GEORGE. Calvina was extremely helpful to her in the last few years of her life, as she resided in her area. I retired only to realize that I am having weird dreams about claustrophobia and being trapped in the back of my car. After waking up, we go to the Pinellas County rodeo, and our mutual friend Lana agrees to send my letters of introduction to their Chief (this never panned out).
I slept that night full of angst. My blood pressure was 171/51, with my normal resting heart rate of 42. We visit the low-lying, twice-hit city of St. Pete Beach to examine the hurricane damage caused there by Hurricanes Helene and Milton this past September and October. There were piles of debris and renovation garbage everywhere. The over four-foot storm surge did most of the damage, as opposed to the raging winds. New buildings must sit atop a story that is not part of the actual residence to minimize the damage that future storms could do. The beaches are clear as if nothing happened.
It’s now November 4th, just one day before the US election. We worked out at Calvina’s local rec centre; then I find out that my car battery is dead. Was this what I was dreaming about, being stuck in the back? I am in contact with Lt. LEBOVIC at the NYPD again. He told me that their training is of 6-months duration, followed by post-grad field training for an additional 6 months with a senior officer. He sounds optimistic about my visit to New York. I decided to fly there rather than drive all that way for just a short visit.
It’s Election Day USA! I find US politics far more interesting than our Canadian stuff. We went to a car parts store that, after hours of testing my dead car battery, claimed they needed “just 15 more minutes with it.” Rather than telling me the truth — that he forgot to put it on a charger —he told me that the battery was dead and unchargeable. I ended up having my car towed by AAA to the nearest Nissan dealership, and they charged my perfectly good battery overnight at no cost to myself. I thought it was a sad way to sell a new battery from the car parts place. Are they inept and deceptive, or are they just plain swindlers? Perhaps all three. The good news is that TRUMP will most likely be the next President of the United States. Great news for the world! I am not a big fan of his personality (although he did reel back his off-the-cuff commentary and tweets), but he got the country rolling despite being stonewalled and lawfared so many times by the Dems. Those with major TRUMP derangement syndrome said that they would move to Canada. I don’t want them in our country. We are struggling with our own idiot. To the Dems, I say, instead of crying, just watch what he accomplishes in the next four years, then tell me all about his character flaws.
On the night of November 8th, I had a fitful sleep. What’s wrong with me? Rob ANDERSON from the NYPD lined me up with a visit to their training HQ on November 15th. A ride-along seems unlikely due to the bureaucracy involved. It appears that I need a more formal invitation from our Chief and significantly more time to arrange it (approximately 30 days). I am now feeling a bit short of breath at bedtime (is it my travel CPAP machine?), and I am still full of angst with continuous bowel problems. My blood pressure is averaging 147/75 with a pulse of less than 40 beats per minute. I try working out at Planet Fitness to stave off these feelings, but I can’t shake them for long.
I spent time in the heat rearranging my car in readiness for my trip along the southern border. I woke up early on November 13, feeling anxious again, with some shortness of breath. The next day, I fly 2.5 hours to New York City and then take an Uber to my hotel, just across the road from the Academy. I met my NYPD contact, Rob ANDERSON, in the lobby, along with a visiting Toronto police member, Yuji ONZUKA. Rob drove us through the front gates of their $1 billion, 750,000-square-foot building (2013). He said that the parking lot was sinking, but the building itself, built atop a swamp, was stable. Their main gym is massive! It is the size of eight average high school gyms (45,000 sq.ft.) We met control tactics instructor Joe McCADDEN, who said that their 2-hour training blocks were split between shooting and defensive tactics. (There is much more gunplay in the United States than in Canada; there are about 120 US police deaths, fairly evenly split between felonious killings and accidental deaths.) Their training still uses the 1.5-mile run that is being phased out in some agencies. Recruits must pass a Job Standards Test (physical endurance test) consisting of physical tasks that officers may have to perform in their duties (a version of our POPAT: Police Officers’ Physical Abilities Test) consisting of the following stations: 6′ chain-link fence climb, stair climb sequence (6 steps up and down for three reps), pull-push machine manipulation (offender restraint simulation), 600′ pursuit run, 176-lb dummy drag (victim rescue), rapid trigger pulls (16 with the dominant hand and 15 with the other hand), all to be done non-stop sequentially within 4.5 minutes (shave off a minute after training) while wearing a 14-lb weighted vest. They conduct classes of 600 recruits (divided into two cohorts) with new intakes every three months, resulting in a total of 2,400 recruits per year. This approach helps maintain their growing manpower beyond its current target of 35,000 members, which serves almost 9 million inhabitants living in the 5 boroughs. Their training lasts 6 months; reality-based training facilities are surprisingly minimal, with no video assessments being conducted and no catwalks installed for simulation oversight. I did like the courtroom and subway set-ups, though. I was told that the Homeland Security Preparedness Training Center in Oriskany is amazing, but alas, I am unable to go there. Joe said that there are only 12 full-time instructors to accomplish all this training! Their defensive tactics include striking, wrestling, and jiu-jitsu training. Neck restraints have not been taught since 1991, and kneeling on an arrestee’s back is prohibited.
I met Cst. Rock DNOKAJ, a trainer with a strong wrestling background, before Rob kindly drives me to the National September 11 Memorial and Museum site. I was part of a Vancouver Police Department contingent (as the Odd Squad videographer), headed by Constables Tod CATCHPOLE and Steve GIBSON, that raised about a quarter of a million dollars to help out the NYPD in 2001. My first and only previous visit to the Big Apple saw me gazing at the hole left during the excavation of the two fallen 110-story Trade Towers, a mere three months later. The area was still smouldering. The museum was a solemn and solid tribute to the almost 3,000 victims (including 343 firefighters and 72 law enforcement officers) of this terrorist event. The angular, taller replacement building, the One World Trade Center, was opened on November 3, 2014. It was the tallest building in the Western Hemisphere (1,176 feet/541 meters) and the costliest as well ($3.9 billion). I watched a few videos made about the event and took a cab back to my hotel in sombre silence. I see a full moon over the Brooklyn Bridge, but I am out of camera battery; I, too, feel spent.
I went to Planet Fitness in Queens, and I tried in vain to contact my Canadian buddy, Blair MELANSON, who has been living in Thailand for at least 15 years. Why is he not answering? I flew back to Tampa the following day, and I felt a cold or the flu coming on. My temperature rose to 103 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius), and I got the shakes. Great. I stayed sick for another full day until I could find some Ivermectin, and like the other times I was ill, I am feeling better within a day after taking it. Nurse Calvina looked after me well, and I am as good as gold by November 20th. My visits along the southern border are coming together nicely. I re-jigged the living space in my car over the next few days. I pondered about driving down to Miami, just to take a look,
On November 25th, I was again consumed by angst, so I headed to the gym to work through it as usual, but this time, the horrible feeling persisted. I told Calvina that I felt detached from reality. Everything was a bit fuzzy. She drove me to a walk-in clinic that referred me to an urgent care facility. They stated that I had an electrical blockage in one of my heart chambers and offered an emergency ambulance, which I declined. Calvina then drove me straight to Morton Plant Hospital, where I received excellent care (except for all of the noise in a semi-private room). Sleep was next to impossible. I needed a pacemaker— me, the fit guy on zero medication! My insurance company, Manulife (Global Excel), wanted to fly me home on a medically equipped Learjet, but I didn’t see the point. This hospital installed six pacemakers a day in this retirement haven. Why not do it now? After a day of testing and deliberations, I had the pacemaker operation performed, and I was out of the hospital the next day, November 28th, just in time for American Thanksgiving.
I have to say that, although I easily rolled through this surgical procedure, it has set me back. I really thought that I would make 100 years of age easily, but now it seems that I am destined to be on medications, like most others my age (I will be 72 in February). I cancelled my pending visits as I felt that flying home to recuperate would be my smartest option (I will have my car shipped home in that case). I recalled my troubles thus far: having my vehicle almost struck by lightning near Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, nearly getting taken out by a mudslide (near Carcross, Alaska), driving through areas affected by forest fires (spoiling my Jasper/Banff trip), being exposed to sour gas (north of Waterton Park), getting my car extensively searched at the Montana/Saskatchewan border, picking up a cracked windshield (Yarmouth, Nova Scotia), having my credit and debit cards malfunction (Wilmington, Delaware), having my car battery die and my car tires replaced (Tampa, Florida), and finally getting the flu, then undergoing a pacemaker operation. I feel like I am now weak. Should I have taken a chance to drive back and resume my trip? No, I now have a fear of sleeping in the back of my car. No wonder it felt like a tomb at times. I mistook the feelings of dread and angst as the symptoms of road/trip stress. This definitely did not help my heart condition at all, but my heart was only partially functional. That’s why my attempts at running were so abysmal! With my new device, my resting heart rate is now set at 50 beats/minute. The cardiologist said that when I work out, the malfunctioning part of my heart will be electrically stimulated into action, so that’s great. I look forward to being back at home for a while.