Nelson
Rockefeller was the long serving Governor of New York when I was young, winning
election and reelection handily.
Interestingly I never met anyone who actually admitted voting for him,
but that is another story.
Late
one evening, my ambulance crew was hanging around in the communications center,
shooting the breeze with the 3-11 shift dispatcher, conveniently also named
Joe. Governor Rockefeller had died
months before in late January 1979. News
of the, shall we say, circumstances surrounding his passing while in the
townhouse of his 25 year old female assistant were in the news. While interesting, this salacious data was
not when fascinated us that evening.
“I
wonder how many cars that rich old bastard owned?” One or another of us asked. The debate was futile with Rocky having died
months before; they were all likely dispersed, sold, or otherwise disposed
of. Shows how much we knew of probate
law and complex estates. For whatever
reason, the argument continued until somebody got a bright idea.
“Hey
Joe, why don’t you run Rockefeller and see what comes back?” As young and dumb as the rest of us, he
thought about it for a minute.
“Sure,
why not.” Joe rolled his chair over to
the computer console and typed in the former governor’s name and hit
enter. A few seconds later, the printer
chattered and we had a list of vehicles as long as your arm. The specifics elude me, but these were not
your everyday Chevy or Ford; there were some expensive collector cars on the
sheets.
We
stood and marveled at the list, amazed at what was still registered to a dead
man. Then, as young men are wont to do,
we moved on…
Joe
was also working the next evening on the 3-11 shift. Shortly after his rear end hit the chair, the
phone rang—hell that’s what happens in a dispatch center—but this call was
different. The party on the other end
was calling from Albany and was the supervisor of the state computer
system. He was quite interested in why
this small municipality had an interest in the state’s former leader.
Joe
knew better than to lie, but he didn’t come right out and admit the
transgression either. The gentleman from
the state knew a line of BS when he heard it.
“Okay,
here’s the deal. You can consider this
your first and last warning. Don’t do it
again. That system is for official use
only.”
Joe
“yessirred” appropriately and the call ended.
A fascinating lesson in how curiosity can be a hazardous part of
dispatching.
A former Endicott Firefighter returns to his roots for a book signing.
