A lot of people, especially my generation, can relate to the idea of having to earn their pocket money through some kind of job. Mine was selling firewood.
I was eight years old when I accepted the job. Each evening my mother and I would load the big red wagon full of bundles of wood. My father would hook up the park’s pick up truck to the wagon and pull it to the parking lot of the toilet building closest to the lake.
As was the custom of the sawmill owner I would belt out in my loudest voice FIREWOOD! To let the campground know we were open for business. I handled the sales until I would need to make a delivery then I would turn the money bag over to my mother, load up the little red wagon and haul the wood.
A lot of campers seemed to get a kick out of me yelling out FIREWOOD! And they seemed happy to patronize a young entrepreneur. I nearly always got tipped for deliveries and sometimes just while selling with the occasional camper telling me not to tell my mother. They seemed to think she was stealing my money, which amused me to no end. I admit I took pride in never encouraging that idea. The sympathy tips were tempting, but they weren’t true.
Most people were friendly and patient and seemingly entertained by me. Not everyone was though.
One night in particular stands out in my memory. Right across from our sales spot was a campsite with an unusually large amount of vehicles. Usually campers had one or maybe two on their site. This one had four or five. Two of those vehicles were pick up trucks with large speakers that were blasting music at a ludicrous volume.
I wasn’t doing deliveries that night as I had to work the wagon alone as my mother was working on her college degree at the time.
A group of two or three from that noisy campsite came over to the wood wagon and tried to get discounted or free bundles of wood. I refused of course, not only was I not allowed to alter prices, but I was getting a commission on all sales. Never mess with my arcade money.
After about ten minutes of them constantly after me about free wood and getting in the way of actual paying customers they wandered away.
A short time later they came back, this time it was a much larger group and they got more insistent that they deserved free wood. A few of the paying customers tried to tell them to leave me alone but were ignored.
I stood my ground and insisted there were no discounts or freebies. Looking back on it now I know they were trying to intimidate me. They were bullies who thought a little kid was an easy target. At the time I was bewildered. I just thought they were stupid. I even considered that I should start adding a stupid tax to the price for idiots like them. Looking back, it remains one of my better business ideas.
They grumbled a lot and eventually went back to their site. I had the feeling they weren’t done with me yet.
I was overjoyed when I saw the green state park pickup truck coming in my direction. I waved down the ranger who was driving and told him about the issues I had been having with the people from that site.
He wasn’t surprised. I learned later on that night that a number of campers had complained about that site throughout the day and more contacted the rangers about the group giving me problems.
The ranger went and got my father who was the park manager. I watched him pull up to the site and get out. I saw a few of the men begin to get in his face and try to intimidate him into letting them do what they wanted. A couple even began to shove him.
He walked back to his truck and grabbed the radio.
If you have ever heard someone say there is never a cop around when you need one, well they clearly haven’t spent much time at that park.
Years later, after studying criminal justice and working alongside law enforcement myself, I learned something important. When an officer puts out a call for help, nobody stops to argue about jurisdiction. They show up.
In less than five minutes a Michigan Conservation officer pulled up to join my father. A minute or two later came a State Police cruiser, followed by an officer from the local reservation, followed by a boarder patrol cruiser, followed by a county sheriff. That wasn’t the end of the parade of patrol vehicles, but if you got the idea congratulations because the people on the site didn’t get it nearly as quickly. A couple of them tried to shove my father again and a MSP officer. That was not a great idea as the officer grabbed the man and slammed him face first into the patrol car and cuffed him. My father restrained the other who was promptly cuffed and thrown into the cruiser with his friend.
A woman approached the officers and started mouthing off and ended up in cuffs joining the two men already in the car.
The rest of the group got the message and quickly began packing up their vehicles and leaving.
They had trouble getting past the dozen or so patrol cars that were lined up in all directions around the site.
Not long after my father hooked the pickup to the trailer and pulled what was left of the firewood and me back to the wood shed.
The night ended with me counting the money while they never did get their free firewood.