Tuesday, October 10, 2017

the week they widened Hetfield Avenue












As a young boy, and a older boy, I was and still am fascinated by road building construction equipment.  D-8 Cats, dump trucks, paving machines, and rolls offs, just the smell of the dirt and grease gets me going.  And so it was at a young age in our neighborhood, the week they widened Hetfield Avenue.  A major road in a small town, speed limit 30, it was the busy street that all the suburban streets were crossed by.  Hetfield and.... would tell a new kid where you lived, and at age 7 we thought we knew it all pretty well.  Then they started the widening of Hetfield, and our whole world changed, for the better.  At first we watched as men with jack hammers tore up the old and pot holed pavement.  Someday we would go to work doing that as well.  The next day it was the graders, smoothing out and removing the debris from the jack hammers, as big diesel dump trucks hauled it away.  With one called Big Mike making it all personal.  We watched as the backhoes came in and dug long lines of holes for the new sewers, and the gas company laid lines, I can still smell the odor as they worked fervently to connect the pipes.  By Wednesday they were done and all covered up, and one final grading to finish before the blacktop was laid.  We had watched the transformation of Hetfield Avenue before our very eyes, each day a new challenge for what we wanted to do someday, from jack hammers to  back hoes to driving dump trucks.  Each night my Tonka fleet came out as I repaved my bedroom, making all the noises without the smells of Hetfield.  Now the toy trucks made sense to me, I had seen them in real life in action. 
But Friday was the day we remember best, as the hot asphalt was laid, the string of dump trucks lined up to be next to dump their load in the paver, that somehow smoothed it all out, and then the steam rollers, making it flat.  We watched each step with fascination, down to the men who tamped down the sides to finish the job.  The smell of fresh asphalt hung around forever it seemed, and Hetfield was not scheduled to be open to traffic until Monday morning, us kids on our Schwinns and Rollfasts were the only traffic.  Something about big trucks and tractors that still appeals to me today, but something has changed, and it may not be my age or perception.  Maybe it is no more Tonka trucks to play with and emulate the road building, maybe it was the newness of it all, or the friends I did it with.  A lot of maybes, but the mental images still remain, I can still smell the natural gas as they laid the pipes, and the sweet smell of fresh asphalt....and I still want to drive a dump truck of my own.
Things and people all seem larger than life when you are a kid.  Seeing things for the first time, seeing your friend’s parents out in the yard being a family, or watching as they widened Hetfield Avenue, at youth we are an open book with blank pages.  We had no cameras back then, no cell phones, so we had to take photos in our memory banks.  Which may fade over the years, but the impressions are just as fresh.  After a trip Theresa hooks up her camera or cell phone to the computer and we watch them, enjoying the rides, and taking us back.  But when a recent ride with my son ended, I have no phone and took very few pictures, but picked up brochures and momentos along the way.  While I sat looking through my pile of folders, he looked at his trip on his i-phone, all reduced to a 3x5 image.  I had pages to turn in full size, some with ketchup from meals, things to read and handle.  We had been the same places, yet with different memories to share.  One not better than the other, a different point of view.  Much like my parents who were upset that Hetfield Avenue was closed and they had to detour, for us it was a rush watching the trucks and smelling the tar.  I choose the kid’s view anytime, and everytime...
It took a group of men, a team to pave Hetfield, each one with their job to do, and the next step could not start until they were finished.  On schedule, one done, the next one begins, and soon the road is done.  Martha and Mary were sisters who had Jesus over for dinner.  While Martha fussed with the food, and got upset with her sister for not helping, some things never change, Mary washed the feet of Jesus with an expensive perfume.  Two needs independent of each other, no cooking no food so no meal, but Jesus needed a rest, and Mary provided it.  And in ministering to Jesus, found rest for herself.  Spending time with Jesus instead of rushing around, one job not more important than the other, but one attitude that was blessed, and one not.  We all need to rest, particularly those who labor, I bet those workmen slept well at night after working jack hammers and back hoes all day. But rest can be more than sleep, or a good meal as Martha found out, it is spending time with Jesus, just hanging out.  To see Jesus at rest is a different view than most of us see, he always seemed to be about his father’s work, and even when he went up on the mountain to rest, only a few lines of scripture record it.  It was a private time, and Mary got to see what rest really was, and who provide it.  Most of us would side with Martha as we brood over having no one help, but Jesus saw both needs and met them.  Martha learned about the things that are really important,Mary enjoyed her rest.  A few feet from kitchen to living room may have divided them, but the distance was much further spiritually.
Mary saw what Jesus needed, and met it.  So did Martha, but on different levels.  Just like we do.  We need rest, some physical, some emotional, but all spiritual.  And it will only be found in Jesus.  Youmay get your eight hours, but are you resting, or just asleep?  Those of us who work with our minds need a rest from thinking, just as the workmen needed a physical rest from their labors. The need for rest comes in many degrees, but is only found in Jesus.  The meal will be eaten, the road dug up and paved, then on to the next job.  There will always be meals and roads to prepare, but little time to spend with our Lord.  A quiet time with no phones ringing, no TV, and maybe the sound of a good motor under you as you ride.  Jesus offers us rest where we are, not based on who we are.  How many of our best memories are of a peaceful day spent with the Lord?  Nothing fancy, no church or even a Bible to read, just you and Jesus.  A personal day, like Mary had, but Martha missed out on.  How many miss the blessings of Mary when we could be just as blessed in our job?
I’m sure the men who widened Hetfield Avenue looked back at what they had accomplished and were proud of their work.  Martha was probably a better cook, or Mary would have been in the kitchen instead.  Looking back at our trip photos, it becomes personal, and I can smell the air, see the signs and what doesn’t show up in the photo is still in my memory.  And it brings me rest to see how much fun I was having, and probably spending time with Jesus while doing it.  Jesus wants to draw us nearer to him, some through rides, some through meals, some just hanging out with him.  No one better than the other, looking back gives us the chance to see how it was, and  how it could have been.  Martha and Mary were both there, just as Christopher and I took the same ride.  And saw it through different views.  As a kid I was excited as they paved Hetfield, my parents were glad when it was done.  To them an inconvenience, to me and adventure.  May your walk in Christ be both, and see how with Jesus life is worth looking back on, and also looking ahead to. 
And someday, I will have that dump truck of my own....the difference between men and boys the price of their toys, and the memories of them.
love with compassion,
Mike
mattehw25biker.blogspot.com