Jake the Snake

“… didn’t look quite right,”

Part of my morning commute includes an (at times) leisurely one mile walk from the U of I soccer fields to the VA hospital. Usually lost in thought I must be careful not to blindly step into traffic or crash into my fellow walkers but one-time a few summers ago while on my trek, I noticed something in the grass that, “didn’t look quite right.” 

Taking a closer look, I realized that laying there in a lazy-eight coil was a snake. It was good-sized too, at least 12-15 inches long. I instinctively recoiled at the sight of the reptile with a primeval fight or flight reaction but after I caught my breath and took a closer look, I realized it was nothing but a harmless garter snake. I thought about how beautiful – in a grotesque way and so well camouflaged it was – just inches away from a heavily traveled sidewalk. 

Nearly invisible to the unwary, the serpent’s yellow, red, and black stripes blended in with the grass and shadows of an early summer morning. Had it been venomous I was well within striking distance, but it was more interested in warming itself in the growing heat of the day than biting me! 

How many people had walked by him not knowing they had come so close to a real snake in the grass? I then christened him (her?) ‘Jake No-Shoulders’ and continued my way to work with just a little lighter step. 

Cool Points

Keep in mind I'm not a snake guy. I don't go out of my way to handle them, but I have in the past - mostly so I wouldn't lose cool points in my younger days. I've eaten snake meat too and yes, it does taste a little like chicken. Once I even drank cobra blood mixed with Thai whiskey. Fun, different, but nothing I'd go out of my way to do again.

Having traveled extensively in the tropics, I’ve seen all sorts of “Nope Ropes,” hanging from tree limbs like plump sausages or gliding effortlessly through the ocean. Mostly, however, if snakes left me alone, I left them alone and happily observe them from a distance.

 

Woody get the snake bite kit!

Even in ‘Murica I encountered snakes when I least expected it – harmless and venomous. While rock climbing in Western North Carolina many years ago, a buddy was hanging off a rock face trying to find another handhold when he accidentally grabbed a coral snake that had been hanging out on the crags. Luckily, he was able to quickly move his hand away from the pissed off snake to avoid a bite – and avoided becoming a lawn dart!

Another time I watched in fascination as a rat snake effortlessly climbed a pine tree in search of its next meal. I can only imagine how many I walked past and didn’t even know.

Snakes on a plane

GIs, especially infantry grunts tend to do some really dumb stuff, like the time we went to the desert in California, a young sky-soldier caught a sidewinder rattlesnake and was intent on bringing it back to Fort Bragg in his shaving kit. He’d tied a string around it and was taking it for a “walk” before our flight, not sure if he actually got it on the airplane but I made sure I was nowhere near him as we loaded the aircraft! 

Phase III 

During of my special forces training, we students were conducting our final exams by training and leading ersatz guerrillas in a revolt against the pseudo “occupying army” in Pineland – actually the Uwharrie National Forest. Our student team leader had given us some final instructions and spun on his heel to walk back to the front of the patrol when I saw something that, “didn’t look quite right,” I grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him inches away from walking face first into a very large snake draped over a low hanging branch. The Captain’s eyes got as big as saucers as he stammered his thanks and sidestepped around the now angry Snakey McSnake-face – we all gave the snake a wide berth and moved out.

In Group

Once as we were returning from Thailand we’d landed at Elmendorf airbase in Alaska to clear customs and immigration. While waiting to be processed, I went to the restroom and bumped into one of our support guys who had been given a juvenile reticulated python by a Thai counterpart and was trying to smuggle the beast back to the states. Through a sleight of hand he was able to get past the customs agent with the snake stowed under his fatigue jacket and brought the serpent to the States. Legend has it that he sold it for $500.00! 

On the Rock

On Okinawa, there are poisonous snakes inhabiting the island – the Habu pit viper is the most notable. American  Forces Entertainment Network (AFEN) frequently had PSAs to remind the dumb americans to leave this snake alone. My only encounter with the Habu besides road kill and the very disturbing Habu-Sake was once while on a patrol in the CTA (Central Training Area) our entire patrol walked past a juvenile habu that had struck at every one of us without success before our lane grader noticed him. Tom, our medic wanted to catch it for some reason but we were able to convince him to leave it alone. 

 

Back to Iowa…. 

In the following days after I discovered him, I looked for Jake, but he wasn’t there. Disappointed at his absence, I kept a look out for him and a couple days later there he was, in the exact same spot. Obviously, a territorial creature, most days he was hanging out l in the same place during the growing heat of the day. It became a habit for me to look for Jake in the grass and many days that summer I was pleasantly surprised to find him hanging out in his spot in the tall grass. 

One afternoon on the way back to the car, I thought to take a picture of Jake to share on social media, but it was then that I noticed groundskeepers edging and mowing the grass around the soccer field. “Uh-oh.” The grass and weeds had been given a severe buzz cut and a few feet from Jake’s now decimated lair was a snake carcass that had gotten thoroughly demolished by a weed eater. Damn, Jake got whacked. 

On the rest of my trek, I pondered how this creature had successfully coexisted with humans for so long – right up until someone with an aversion to snakes and a power tool got involved. 

Sorry Jake.

Saying Goodbye to Gammie Kay

I wrote this on the occasion of my mother's passing in 2015. Rereading it made me a little misty-eyed and thought I would reshare it here:

Thank you, all of you who offered your condolences for our mother's passing. Your kind thoughts and words are greatly appreciated. She’d be quietly pleased to see you all here today.

Gammi Kay was certainly one of a kind and never met a stranger – at least not for very long.

After I moved home in 2003, got married in 2004, and mom’s health still allowed it, she would frequently stop over at the house for coffee, and then there were times I'd fill a thermos and visit her at the farm. But, far too often life would get in the way and our cherished time together grew more infrequent. I truly miss those times where we just sat and talked.

Two years ago we almost lost mom due to poor health and a deep sadness that had overtaken her. However, mom’s move to Hallmark and the wonderful care she received reenergized her and gave us another two years with her.

Mom loved playing bingo, chatting with friends old and new. We knew not to come during bingo hours and occasionally it almost felt like we were intruding on her social life!

The last thing I expected on the day of Mom's passing was to console the staff at Hallmark, but like she always did, she had taken many of them under her wing. One of the nurses commented that often, when the aides had a free moment you could usually find them in Mom's room! She had become a surrogate grandma to some of them, so our loss is their loss. Thank you all for your kindness. You made mom’s last couple years very special to her.

Long before it was a late night comedy punch line, my mom and the other mothers of our neighborhood embodied the phrase, “it takes a community to raise a child.” Mildred Jilovec, Jean Litts, Mary Smith to name a few. If one family was going to the pool, the entire neighborhood went to the pool. If one family was baling hay, the whole neighborhood was baling hay. Moms made it happen.

Once, during the summer a dozen or so of us kids were banished to the backyard while our moms sat around the kitchen table smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee and assembling circuit boards for Collins Radio. Somehow one of them had arranged to do piecework to earn a little extra money. Lucy and Ethel had nothing on the moms of Ivanhoe!

During the 1980s farm crisis I discovered that my parents became protestors – activists decrying the problems that faced many of our farming neighbors. Mom actually convinced my father to carry a protest sign! I told mom to do what she felt was right but not to jeopardize my army security clearance by getting arrested.

Mom loved babies and children and it didn’t matter whose they were either. But she especially doted on her grandchildren. I think it was through her involvement with the grandkids that she met one of her dearest friends: Donna Hotz. Thank you for all you and Larry did for mom.

Mom’s friendship and frequent visits with Donna Hotz led her to be known as Gammi Kay to an entire generation of Mount Vernon kids.

As the lunch lady she would frequently allow a student to get something extra even if their lunch account was low or if they received free and reduced lunches. She didn’t want a child to go hungry and as she tallied up at the end of lunch she would balance the books using her own money. Mom grew up in poverty and knew the pain of hunger. Don’t misunderstand-- if mom found out a student stole food or was playing her to get extra food she would come down on them like only Gammi Kay could do.

Mom was a pretty good cook. Not great, but good. Lunch was at noon and dinner at 6:00PM.

Dad and Grampa Leo would sit down at the kitchen table for lunch and ate what was placed in front of them. One time mom made ham and bean soup, but didn’t realize that the pork was already heavily salted so that what she served was basically brine. Dad and Grampa didn’t say a word and ate their lunch.

For dinner she made the basics: Meat, potatoes and vegetables – usually harvested and raised on the farm. Mom frequently cooked liver and onions and oyster stew because that’s what dad liked. She’d boil some hotdogs for us kids.

Mom did occasionally experiment – sometimes with moderate success, but occasionally not so much. She tried a Continental dinner of crockpot chicken cacciatore and “Cold duck” wine that was less than successful and we still laugh about the Thanksgiving turkey that took a nosedive to the floor when the “as seen on TV” contraption failed as she pulled the cooked bird out of the oven.

Because I was in the army much of my communication with home was by letter or collect calls. Mom was a great letter-writer before her arthritis got too bad. Knowing we were on the clock our conversations were a whirlwind of stories.

Over the years I discovered that Mom usually had a problem with saying no – especially when it concerned her grandchildren – and they knew it!

Mom seemed to share concerns with me more so than with her other children. She confided in me that I would listen and not judge her on her thoughts. It helped that I was usually far away, but it continued even after I moved back to Mount Vernon. I was able to give her a more objective opinion than she might receive elsewhere. But. Usually, she’d politely listen to my “sage” advice and do what she planned to do anyway.

I don't think she ever refused a plea for help of any kind. Even when she was painfully low on money for her own bills she would not hesitate to share the contents of her purse with others - much to the chagrin of my father - and later, my brother Kevin, who took it upon himself to manage her finances after my dad's passing.

Mom would periodically say how much she’d like to have some cash while she lived at Hallmark, we all sort of poo-pooed her that she didn't "need" money since everything she needed was taken care of for her. Personally, I think she wanted to have the cash so she could give it to a visiting grandchild.

Once, Gammi Kay even bought a prom dress for a needy student because it was the right thing to do. I remember asking her what the heck was she thinking?!?! She responded matter-of-factly that if she didn't do it no one would - kinda hard to argue with that logic!

For many years while I was in the Army, I maintained a small savings account at Mount Vernon Bank and mom would sometimes ask if she could borrow money to take care of some unexpected bill. I always said yes and finally told her that if she ever needed money to help herself – I didn’t worry about the balance. However, ever so dutifully she paid back whatever she borrowed. It was only later that I discovered that occasionally it was to pay a credit card bill of which my dad was unaware.

She was a protector and a caregiver. Over the years, I would call home and discover that she and dad would have someone staying at the house because, well, they needed a place to stay.

And Mom was also good at giving advice. One of the traits that I inherited from my mom is a propensity to gain weight. It’s something that both of us battled throughout our lives. Even while I was in the army, with all the PT we did, it was still a burden. One time, she and I were talking about weight and my love life when out of the blue my mom said, “Michael, don’t forget – girls don’t make passes at boys with fat asses.” Not your typical mom advice.

Like my siblings, I am sad that she's gone. However, I'm happy that she's with my dad again, both with their bodies whole, youthful and healthy - not worried about diets, bills or anything else.

My parents truly married their best friends and Mom missed my father terribly ever since his passing. For those of you that knew him, my father was a man of few words who kept his own counsel with the exception of my mother. They were truly partners in life and – as I said, best friends. No marriage is without troubles and our family had our share, but the one element that remained constant was the love that my parents shared. One time, someone asked her if she had ever contemplated divorce. She dryly replied, “No, never divorce. Occasionally murder, but never divorce.”

As I write this, I keep thinking of other stories to share, but I will end with this: She may have grown up in Philly, but her home was here in Mount Vernon.

Again, thank you so very much for your kind words; we find great solace in seeing so many people who thought so highly of my mom.