Below-board capitalism alive and well in our neighborhood

We had a fierce windstorm yesterday here in Rochester that knocked down a big cherry tree near the sidewalk in our front yard. It also ripped out the phone lines.

I was just coming home with the kids around noon and found our block completely blocked off at the end. There were a bunch of fire engines. They were in front of MY house.

The cop wouldn't let me through. "But that's MY house!" I said, insistantly. I couldn't say it with too much tension in my voice because the kids were in the car with me. I had no idea what was going on.

"Sorry, lady, you'll have to go around the block."

So I did, but that end was blocked off, too. So I turned around, parked in front of my back-yard neighbor's house, and we all trooped through together.

"I heard a tremendous crack," said Lou as we walked. "It's across the street, I think."

But no, there it was, a large cherry tree laying diagonally across my front yard, from southwest to northeast. It WASN'T the magnolia tree next to the house, thank goodness. I love that magnolia, it's beautiful in the spring, and both the kids and I were grateful that it was unharmed, only a few small limbs down. The cherry tree didn't hit the house when it came down, because of the angle. AND, it was mostly ripped out, stump and all. So no need for any of that. If we had to lose a tree, it was the best way.

The best part, though, is that the fallen tree attracted attention, the right kind. The kind that represents the best part of America's get-up-and-hustle mentality. I had no fewer than four different groups of guys knock on the door yesterday and today to ask if I wanted to hire someone to chop it all up and haul it away.

Today, two groups came (coincidentally) together: One was a pair of guys named Jim (both of them) who had been by yesterday. At the same time, the ex-chief of the local fire department came by. HE said he'd be happy to cut it all apart on Saturday for NOTHING, if he could have the firewood. The Jims originally wanted $200 to cut and stack it (one of them does this one his own as a contractor). All together, we negotiated that the Jims would clear all of the twigs and brush today, lop off some of the smaller limbs and stack them for firewood for me, for $100. And then the fireman would come back on Saturday and chop up and take the rest with him.

Sold! ("Boy, you're getting a great deal," the fireman said to me in an aside. I agreed.)

The Jims got to work, after I had them sign a waiver stating that they wouldn't sue me if they got hurt. (Because, who knows.)

It was great. Here is a photo of them with my tree:



The undamaged magnolia is the one on the right side, still standing.

But it gets better yet. I only had $85 in cash on me. I told the Jims I'd have to go to a cash machine for the extra, unless they wanted me to raid the girls' piggy banks for nickels.

"No problem," said Main Jim, after a bit of consultation with Other Jim. "We'll do it for $85 if you give me the opportunity to quote you on getting off the dead limbs on the huge tree in the back."

Sold, again!

So, for $85, I got firewood for all of next year, I got to meet some nice Jims and a fireman, and the other guys who came by but didn't get the job. I found a cheap, spunky guy I like to fix the trees in the back yard soon. And, the Frontier Telephone guy ran a new wire for free to us today. All in all, the best kind of Natural Disaster to experience.

And those gentlemen, they had good, hard, firm handshakes when they left.

I felt so American.