Little Jack or Big Jack....

"Hello"

"May I speak with Jack please?"

"Little Jack or Big Jack?"

This would have been a common telephone conversation, starting when I was about thirteen years old.  Prior to then it was fairly easy to discern when my friends were calling, or when the call was for my dad. But, as young boys' voices began to change, it became more difficult to determine the age of the callers, therefor, the "Little Jack" or "Big Jack" designation became common identifiers. Thank goodness no one in our house came up with the dreaded "Junior" as my identity!

This went on for several years, and in fact, many years later, at my dad's funeral, one of my dear friends commented that "Big Jack couldn't have ordered a better day for us to be here".  It was a beautiful  February day, and my friend's comment was in response to a flock of geese flying over as we gathered at the cemetery.

There is no doubt that this same friend had very fond memories of Big Jack. You see, as we got to be teenagers, acquired cars, and seemed to always be getting ourselves into compromising situations, Big Jack was the "go to" guy.  He was the adult that they could call at any time and find a sympathetic ear and a helping hand.  He was the guy my friends would call knowing he would keep their latest misfortune in strict confidence, especially where their parents were concerned. He understood the adage, boys will be boys!

My mom answered the call at about 2:30am, and I heard her muffled voice as she roused Big Jack. I couldn't hear the conversation, but shortly my dad walked down the hall and said, "Get up, we've got to go rescue Randy".  No ranting or raving, nor any apparent anger at being rousted out of bed in the middle of the night. Actually I sensed a smile crossing his lips as I struggled out of my nice warm bed and into my clothes. Just wait until I get my hands on my so called friend.

A few minutes later we were on our way across town, where Randy had managed to get his brother's corvette stuck on a railroad crossing. Exiting a well known "parking" spot, he had missed the edge of the road and the car was sitting squarely on the tracks with one wheel dropped in a hole. Big Jack surveyed the situation, had a good laugh as he glimpsed Randy's girlfriend in the front seat, and proceeded to pull the car out as we joked about the possibility of an oncoming train. No train appeared and the whole event was soon forgotten.


A year or so later, another friend was driving his father's pride and joy. It was a brand new, mist green, Buick Electra, and Jim had borrowed it for a special date.  You would have thought the story of Randy's exploits would have discouraged others from attempting the same maneuver, but as I mentioned, that event was long forgotten. Jim ended up in the very same predicament.....stuck on the tracks.

I'll never know if Jim was on his way to give Big Jack a call.  As he trudged to the nearest gas station, a light appeared down the tracks.....

As I recall, it made the front page of the local newspaper, "Teens escape unscathed".  Okay, I made up the headline, but I bet Jim remembers it very clearly.  Yes, very clearly indeed, but what do I know.