Campbell hausfeld 20 gallon air compressor

So we live in an old brick home that will never be able to have central air because it would be impossible to run ducting through 2' thick brick walls. As such, we purchased a pair of GE Window AC units to cool our main floor. Unfortunately, they are both pieces of crap that stopped cooling after giving us two years of decent service. Of course they only had a 1-year warranty, so GE's solution was to summon a repair tech for $120/hour. If he took two hours to fix the units, we'd be half way to purchasing a much better, more reliable unit from another manufacturer.
Bottom line, I've got two units that are non-functional and before I take them to the Solid Waste Agency, I thought I'd see if 1) anyone knows someone *cheap* who would be interested in troubleshooting the problem and/or 2) Anyone that would want to buy them for a fraction of what I paid for them and fix them to resell.
Before I get peppered with comments about what I did to troubleshoot the issue myself, I'll say I removed the units, took off the covers, and inspected the cooling coils, filter, etc. I was super keen to clean the filters monthly so the inside of the units looked almost new. No dirt or debris of any kind clogging the coils. Just in case, I went ahead and sprayed down the coils with cleaner and hosed them out. That did absolutely nothing to solve the problem.
I suspect the compressors, though it seems weird both compressors on both units would fail at the same time, but anything's possible I suppose. The reason I suspect them is because it is normally noticeable when they kick in and all I'm hearing now after running the units for 20 - 30 minutes is just the fan blowing warm air.
Anyway - any suggestions?

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I just bought a small air compressor. 2 gallons, 135 max psi, 1.6 cfm.
its says 1.6cfm at 90psi
I am struggling to figure out how to apply the gas law to figuring out how many cycles the air compressor would need to fill a standard truck tire from 0-80 psi. Any help would be much appreciated.

I just bought a small air compressor. 2 gallons, 135 max psi, 1.6 cfm.
it says 1.6cfm at 90 psi
I am struggling to figure out how to apply the gas law to figuring out how many cycles the air compressor would need to fill a standard truck tire from 0-80 psi. Any help would be much appreciated.

Using pro tools 11
I've been using pro tools for about a year and a half, I never watched any tutorials (I don't mean to sound like idiot asshole I just have terrible ADHD n can concentrate for 20 mins + later on I watch them lol) I just dove in head first. It's not that I dont know how to get a good recording I just want to hear first hand from more experienced people.
I use a SM7B microphone with a cloud lifter
I started early on not adjusting anything other than than the volume on the interface (Scarlett i8) I never touched any faders or anything. I honestly got some of my best recording before I knew anything.
The i8 has that lil visual volume/gain display and obviously I tried to get it into the green before recording. (Between -12 n -18 db)
id turn the lil gain nob up directly on the recorded vocal wave and at around +8-+9db.... the mountain shape of the takes were stronger and higher than now. I'd be about the same If turn the gain nob up now +16-+17db. (Not the fader just the actual lil volume control attached to the vocal take)
(3-8 months in)
Fast forward a little, my friend let me use his interface (Scarlett i8) and he needed it back, so I just picked up the Scarlett solo. The solo blinks green when the gain is set at -12 to -18db so I'm aware of that.
I didn't start by creating vocal busses. This might sound stupid but I'm not a big fan of vocal bussing because I like the takes to have individual textures and differences. I'm constantly changing the mix on the vocal going back and forth between amps and a more dry mix.
I just found that bussing the vocals and effects made it much more confusing when I wanted to do specific changes.
I do definitely use a Master fader though.
But what I was doing was adding an output (where S A-E is located in the mixer) - -> (built in output 1-2 stereo) then turning the fader up to around -20 db then re-adjusting the interface to the proper volume before recording. The takes sounded lively n sharp but the actual signal looked lower + was having a lot of issues with plosives and harsh S sounds. (Not touching the recording/volume fader underneath the I/o settings n stuff)
(Now)
Now I dont do that instead I turn the volume down on the recording fader (-1.7) not the output fader I was assigning before.
Then adjusting the interface properly. The actual signal again is much like it was before but a lil more meaty on the low end. The vocal comes in small like very small. But idk if that's normal, all my friend have different daws. When I look at tutorials I'm just staring at the vocal and trying to see how the wave came and recorded but I still have questions.
I record with about 6 plugin (2 eqs (7 band + channel strip) + (2 compressors a basic one, n I use smack just for texture not really as a compressor) + (desser n saturation)
I prefer to record my vocals at a lower volume because they sound better. But I don't think I'm recording them too quiet because when I bounce the mix the vocals still have strength in them.
I'm just in a place where I'm a little confused and I'm not sure what the specific answer is. Assuming the interface is set properly and is recording at -12 to -18 DB do you adjust any vocal volume settings within pro tools?
And I'm using a MacBook Air 2017, 8gb ram. Will the additional plugins due to not busing effect the vocal coming into the laptop (CPU issues).
Also would changing the bit depth from 24 to 32 help anything. I know it's probably circumstantial
I'm sorry for reading this was annoying I tried to be as specific as possible.
If you notice anything really dumb I was doing please tell me.
Thank u for any feedback

BACKGROUND
Long story short I spent 8 years on the West Coast holding increasingly important positions in the energy industry, but I hated it with every fiber of my being. I started taking nursing prerequisite courses in January of 2020. Family trauma happened. I moved home to Texas to be closer to my family, quit my job (was making ~$130k with bonus), and took the plunge and went to back to school for nursing at 31. I am half way done with an accelerated BSN program and I have a 4.0 GPA. I love it so much despite it being very difficult. I have externship currently and I have an ICU internship lined up for my final semester, which is basically a guaranteed new grad job.
I currently live with my mom and brother. We are remodeling our house so we are in an apartment for a bit. Very tight quarters but thankful to be with them. Boyfriend just successfully made a big career move and is now a superintendent for an important and well respected organization in town making $60k annually with a 8% bonus. Very proud of him and very excited for our future - we are talking about getting engaged in the next year. He is getting an apartment in the next couple months after living at home with his family due to some major family health issues he has been helping out with so you will see some of the apartment search start to happen in this diary!
Currently boyfriend and I split going out expenses pretty much down the line, but with this new job we had a discussion last week about how he will pay for the majority of our going out costs moving forward once he gets his first paycheck this month until I start working full time again in January!
Previous money diary from August 2022 here.
ASSETS (comparing last money diary to now):
​

	August 2022	June 2023	Difference
401k	$156,400	$158,600	$2,200
Roth IRA	$68,000	$68,500	(500)
Saving's account	$41,001.43	$26,572.63	($14,428.81)
Checking Account	$3,024.58	$915.41	($2,109)
HSA	$8,800	$7,100	($1,700)
Brokerage	$440	$444	$4
UGMA	$85,000	$84,000	($1,000)
Pension	forgot to include	$27,000	N/A

NET WORTH: $373k
**I don’t carry any credit card debt / no student loan debt / no equity in any kind of home. I was lucky enough to be in a position where I saved up over $40k cash to pay for living expenses when in school. My UGMA account will be used as part of a down payment for a house in the next couple years. My current BSN degree is being covered through family. Also, trying to figure out what to do with my pension - depending how finances go the next 8 months I am in school / if I have any emergencies (I have 2 senior pets) I could cash part of it out or completely roll it over into an IRA.
INCOME
Income Progression: I worked in the energy industry for 8 years; my starting salary was $35,000.
I worked in the Seattle area starting out at $35k in 2014. Moved to a new job in 2016 for $65k and then another new job in 2018 for $85k +12% bonus. Got up to $104k + 20% bonus before I quit. Also worked as a CNA on the weekends for about 6 months for $15 an hour during COVID to make sure I really wanted to go to nursing school.
Main Job Monthly Take Home: It varies but the average so far this year it is $535. I have an incredibly flexible externship at a hospital very close to where I live where my director literally just lets me show up whenever I want to work. I make $17 an hour. I met a couple incredible mentors but I think I am going to quit soon since it just won’t be feasible to work this semester and I already have my ICU internship lined up for September. Trying to be easier on myself and put myself first and I feel very lucky that I don’t need to work. Don’t get me wrong the extra money is SO NICE but I want to concentrate on school, myself, family, partner, and friends. Work on top of an accelerated nursing program is too much. I am actually the only one working in my cohort currently.
Any Other Monthly Income Here: I live with my mom right now and she pays for most of the groceries, utilities, etc. I feel incredibly privileged and lucky that I can live with her and that she is able to support me in this way while I transition careers. I do lots for her to support her such as chores, errands, paying for big Costco runs, etc. My boyfriend also helps out with pet expenses and other things I want / need.
MONTHLY EXPENSES

• Rent: $400 to my mom for a very discounted rate at our current apartment. I don’t pay rent when we are at the house. I will not be paying rent when I semi-move in with my boyfriend in the next couple months. Our goal is to get our own luxury apartment next year close to both of our places of employment after a year lease at a cheaper place. Between now and then I’ll split my time with him and my mom.
• Cellphone: $15 (on family plan & I just pay for additional data)
• Spotify: $5.40 (student plan)
• iCloud: $2.99
• Prime: $8.11
• Gym membership: $20
• Regular therapy: $5 a session and I go biweekly
• Health insurance: $122.54 monthly
• Costco: $60 annually

I allocate the following to my biggest expense categories monthly:

• Gas: $120
• Groceries: $300
• Eating out: $400
• Pet expenses: $200
• Other discretionary spending: $400

WEDNESDAY - DAY 1
8:45: I slept 10 hours last night and it was glorious. I worked a 12 hour shift at the hospital yesterday and our patient acuity was very high.
9:30: Make a coffee and walk and feed my pup. I walk over to the pool for a morning swim. I love a quiet morning swim so much.
11:30: I had a nice 500 yd swim, drank a Premier Protein shake & ate overnight oats with blueberries for breakfast, had a relaxing shower, and started some laundry. Feeling anxious about everything I have on my plate currently. Also I feel hungover from work yesterday. I was going to work another 12 hour shift tomorrow but now I don’t know if I can handle it with school also starting on Friday and a very busy social weekend coming up. Luckily, my director literally lets me show up whenever I want so I may do 7 or 8 hours tomorrow instead of a full 12. Try to table my feelings to discuss in therapy this afternoon.
11:40: Sit down to finish some online orientation for my internship that is coming up my final semester.
13:03: Orientation stuff only took about 20 minutes thank god. I ran to the grocery store and grab a 4 pack of watermelon Celsius, frozen veggies, Eggo waffles, tea bags, string cheese, coffee filters, Wheat Thins, and lean ground beef ($37.01). Head up to the rooftop lounge at the apartment complex to FaceTime a friend that lives across the country since there is zero privacy in the apartment.
14:15: Get off FaceTime, work on some more laundry, and head out to therapy.
16:15: Good, productive, fun, and validating therapy session and I make it over to my friend’s condo to check on her kitties. I had set up a reoccurring biweekly therapy appointment now that I know my school schedule for the upcoming semester too. We talked about money fixation and anxiety and trying to let that go. We agree that I should sleep in a bit tomorrow, walk my dog, go for a swim, and then go to work. I don’t ~need~ the money so working 12 hours vs 7 or 8 is not an issue. My mental health is more important. Also the work hangover from yesterday is real.
17:00: Boyfriend comes over after work and jumps in the shower while I’m a couch potato (Disclaimer: he’s friends with my friend too and she’s 100% comfortable with him hanging out too.) We relax and hang with the kitties and catch up on our days.
18:45: We head to dinner. We grab burritos at one of our favorite local spots and I pay ($25.88). We look at houses for fun on Zillow and discuss what apartments we want to tour in the next couple weeks.
20:00: I make it home and have a long talk with my mom about her friend who ended up in the hospital today with a compound fracture. Long story short I’ll need to stay up until midnight to hand off the house keys, garage door opener, etc. to a friend who is driving into town that can take care of her dog. Her dog is a pit bull that is vicious to strangers so no one else can go over to the house other than this friend who pet sits and knows the dog.
23:30: The friend makes it and we hand him the keys and everything he needs. I had spent the evening tidying up and meal prepping and looking at more apartments. It’s amazing to me how much time goes into keeping a clean and tidy home.
12:08: I spent a half hour setting up my June budget and then pass out.
TOTAL: $62.89
THURSDAY - DAY 2
9:05: I finally wake up to a bunch of texts from multiple different friends / friend groups. Ugh. I’m just feeling really anxious about school starting tomorrow, my mom being very distraught over her colleague / friend, working today, and a busy weekend coming up. I make some coffee and walk my pup.
9:33: I call my mom while feeding my pup breakfast and tell her how I’m feeling and we both agreed I ran around too much last semester and I told her I am setting firm boundaries with myself to basically not do anything social during the school week once clinical start (Monday - Thursday) unless it’s like a super casual dinner and I truly have the capacity for it. I burned myself out at the end of last semester and spent weeks putting the pieces back together.
9:55: I make another cup of coffee and take myself for a morning swim. It brings me so much joy and grounds me. I swim 500 yards and then jump into the shower, throw my scrubs on, kiss my pup goodbye and head to the hospital. I drink a chocolate Primer Protein shake and call my friend L on the way to hear how her trip has been going so far. It was nice to catch up even though we saw each other over the weekend lol.
10:54: Ate my overnight oats made with half and half and some blueberries, clocked in, and headed out to the floor. Immediately get asked to be a sitter which literally never happens. Thank you universe. Feeling a little less anxious now that I’m here and feeling thankful for the little bit of extra money I’m making and being here for my community.
14:04: Maybe not thank you universe - the patient slept for a while then got extremely combative and was trying to punch me. I switch off with a coworker and head to the break room to eat a bowl I made with frozen veggies + rotisserie chicken from Costco + cheddar cheese on top.
19:09: I finally clock out. I had a snack of 2 rice cakes and some almonds at one point. Rest of work was wild (i.e. a psychotic patient that pulled out his IV and was throwing things everywhere, someone screaming in pain for hours nonstop, etc.) and had me questioning what I am doing making this career change. I am tired.
19:49: I make it home after swinging by L’s to check on her kitties. Jump in the shower. My mom has dinner ready and I scarf down this gorgeous basil, mozzarella, peppers, tomatoes, avocados, and olive salad + a couple Trader Joe’s dolmas + a couple pieces of fresh bread. Delicious. I force myself to get my food and my school bag ready for tomorrow and lay my scrubs out before I crawl into bed a little after 9.
TOTAL: $0
FRIDAY - DAY 3
06:22: Alarm goes off and I roll out of bed and take my pup for a nice walk. Give him breakfast / shower / throw on my scrubs / pack my lunch / give the pup a big kiss goodbye and I am out the door a little after 7:00.
07:47: I get to school and I am NOT feeling it lol. I stopped at Costco for gas on my way ($20.67) and I also swung by a very Texas niche store that sells all kinds of beef jerky my brother really likes to grab some for his birthday coming up ($17.98).
10:00: Class is boring - it’s tough getting back into it with an 8 hour cardiac lecture. It’s good to see my friends but struggle is real. I run into my favorite professor and she makes my morning. I tell her all about my upcoming internship and my boyfriend’s new job and she was stoked and told me to “lock him down” hahaha. I also make 2 phone calls to apartment complexes we are interested in cause my boyfriend doesn’t get great reception at work during business hours. One place doesn’t have any current availability but the lady was so nice and will be sending me a virtual tour later today. Schedule another tour on Monday afternoon.
11:30: We break for lunch and I eat the same thing as yesterday - rotisserie chicken + frozen veggies + cheddar cheese.
12:30: Spend the afternoon in class completely unable to concentrate. The professor is throwing ECG rhythms around left and right. 8 hours of ECG lecture is NOT a productive way to learn the material. I work on a couple study guides during class cause I cannot.
3:30: We get out a little early and I rush to meet my mom for a walk through of the house. I follow her back to her office because I sent a big Chewy order there. Pick up the box along with a Diet Coke, order us Cava for dinner, pick up Cava, check on my friends cats on my way home real quick, and then have a shower and relax. Mom pays for Cava and I thank her multiple times.
7:00: We eat dinner all together when everyone is eventually home (harissa avocado bowl for me!) and then my boyfriend calls right when I head out to walk my dog. Perfect. I miss him and have been having anxiety around our new schedules. We have a good 30 minute chat about our days before I spend the evening basically doing nothing. I chat with my family and mess around on my phone. Text boyfriend about different apartments.
22:44: Bed time after I brush and floss my teeth. I’m zonked from the week.
TOTAL: $38.65
SATURDAY - DAY 4
08:30: I’m awake! Did not sleep well at all cause thunderstorms. My pup is deathly afraid and will not stop shaking for hours so I end up sleeping on the couch on and off. We were up and down all night but somehow I feel okay. We go for a quick walk, feed him, and start a load of whites in the washer.
09:08: I have a shower, and then I head out to get my family coffee from one of our favorite spots.
10:45: Make it back home with 2 cold brews for my brother and I and a latte for mom. I also picked up 5 breakfast tacos and a German chocolate cake for Sunday dinner tomorrow ($56.24). I eat a bean and cheese taco and a potato and egg taco, start some laundry, and put air in my tires with my home compressor since my low air light has been on in my car for an embarrassing amount of time. Brother needs air in his tires too so turns into a production lol.
12:18: Spent a couple hours putzing around dealing with the tires and more laundry and packing a bag for tonight. We are headed to the lake for a friend’s bday party and I have no clue what I want to wear so I pack a lot of options and clothes for church tomorrow morning too. Now it’s time to drive around for a little bit and check out some potential apartments and do a small Target run.
14:02: I make it home from apartment cruising and my Target run. I bought a 3 subject notebook, tire pressure gauge with valve caps included, two bags of frozen veggies, mini coke zeros, and a bag of Lesser Evil popcorn ($21.50). I was so tempted to stop for lunch on my way home but lines were long everywhere so I made myself some cheesy eggs + 2 Eggo waffles when I got home. Put the valve cap on my tire that is missing one.
14:36: Make it to L’s condo and clean up after the cats and start the Roomba. Boyfriend texts that he is out of work and on his way over! He’s been up since 4 am this morning for work and I am feeling some type of way with everything on my plate / anxiety so we will see how long we make it tonight lol.
15:30: S is showered and we are out the door!
16:30: We make it to the rental, change into our bathing suits, and walk down to the river.
19:00: We hang out in the river for a good 2.5 hours. It was a good time - nice to chat with my school friends and their partners. Boyfriend and I head out before the real partying starts lol.
20:00: We eat dinner at this cute Tex Mex place. Boyfriend has some kind of alcoholic mixed drink and we share a fajita for 2 plate. Boyfriend pays - it was $70.56 with tip. I drive us back because he does not like to drive even after one drink which I am 100% here for. We are so tired lol.
21:15: Make it back to L’s condo and we take a hot shower and get into bed in the guest bedroom. It takes forever for us to both fall asleep.
TOTAL: $77.74
SUNDAY - DAY 5
6:50: Oh boy neither of us slept well. There was another thunderstorm. One of the cats was yowling nonstop outside our door. The ceiling fan was clanking on and off. The bed was way too soft. Up and down again all night for a second night in a row for me lol.
8:11: I’m showered and we are both dressed and we head out to one of our favorite taquerias for breakfast. I get 2 bean and cheese tacos and one machacado + egg taco. Boyfriend also gets 3 tacos and we both get coffee. We sit and chat for a while until it was time to go to church. I pay on the way out ($22.98 with tip).
11:40: After an hour of church and an hour meeting for a committee I’m on - I’m wiped out. Still have a house walk through to do with my family and boyfriend so I head over there and we are there for about an hour.
13:10: Finally made it home, walked my pup, and made myself a late lunch of Dave’s Killer bread toast + peanut butter + banana.
13:54: A girlfriend calls and asks if I want to get a pedicure this afternoon. We decide to get dinner together on Thursday instead. I’m actually very touched she called me because we are friends through another friend and normally don’t get together just the two of us. I’m really happy she reached out. I also invite one of my friends from school - I have been wanting them to meet for a while.
14:30: Nap timeeeee! I knock out for an hour then realize how thirsty I am and how badly I need to get out of the apartment. I get up, take the pup for a spin with my brother, and head to Sonic to get a large diet cherry limeade and then head to L’s condo to check on the kitties and chill ($3.34).
18:00: I spent a couple hours chilling on the internet - working on my google calendar, school organization, church emails, reviewing some apartments we may drive by tomorrow, and I download the remaining episodes of season 1 of Nurse Jackie to watch tonight. I had bought the complete first season over a month ago and still haven’t watched it all lol. That’s how little I watch tv.
20:00: We had bibimbap for dinner and German chocolate cake for dessert. Delicious. I clean up the dishes and do more laundry because that’s my life between school, work, working out, having 2 hairy pets, etc. Unpack my bags from the river day and sleepover last night too. Chat with my family.
22:00: Crawl into bed and watch some Nurse Jackie before passing out.
TOTAL: $26.32
MONDAY - DAY 6
7:33: I slept better but still tossed and turned. Still just anxious with everything going on, especially the start of another intense semester.
8:47: Pup is fed and walked. I open the windows because it is 68 degrees which is unheard of in June in south Texas.
10:06: I ended up doing a deep clean of my room hahah. Wiped down and vacuumed every surface. So much hair. My pup is shedding so bad. I change my bedding and toss my comforter in the wash. Thank goodness I have 2 sets of sheets now. I had only 1 for the longest time lol. I take a break and eat some Greek yogurt + pecans + banana + drizzle of honey.
11:03: I vacuumed the common areas in the apartment, took a long shower, and I’m dressed and ready for my boyfriend to pick me up. I felt like being cute today so I put on this new leather skirt from Alice + Olivia my boyfriend got me as a present that I haven’t worn yet + a white crop top + my cheetah old skool Vans. I’m so tired though lololol. This is one of the only Mondays we both have off for the foreseeable future so I am gonna rally and make the most of it!
11:15: Boyfriend is so tired too bahah. We go grab coffees at this cute little coffee shop I’ve been wanting to check out. I get a cortado. Boyfriend gets an iced caramel almond milk latte and I treat ($11.82 with tip). We sit and chill and map out what apartments we want to check out today.
12:30: Walk across the street to grab Tex Mex for lunch at a pretty famous place in town. I get the enchilada plate and boyfriend gets a chicken quesadilla plate. He pays and it is $27.89 with tip.
1:30: Go for our first apartment tour of the day and it is depressing. We drive around and check out the other apartments we are I interested in and then go on one more tour at a place that we are really impressed by. It’s $1.3k or so for a 500 sq ft one bedroom and that’s a stretch. Ideally he wants the base rent to be $1,000 or less which is quite doable. Yet again - south Texas prices for the win. He is looking at older buildings, but they are well kept up and in good neighborhoods. They are not in the hottest places to be in town, but definitely still nice.
16:00: We go back to L’s condo and chill and take care of the kitties. Discuss the apartments and ask my brother if he wants to get dinner with us and he agrees.
18:00: We head back to my apartment, pick up my brother, and head to dinner. We order a large caesar salad, an arugula and sausage pizza, and a mushroom and pepperoni pizza. This spot does $10 two topping pizzas on Monday and it slaps. I treat my boyfriend and brother to dinner ($48.01 with tip).
20:00: Home and boyfriend walks my pup with me. Brother makes us both tea and we have a nice cup of tea and chat until boyfriend heads home. I put together my breakfast and lunch tomorrow and then lay down to chill and have some quiet time.
22:30: Bed time! First day of critical care didactic is tomorrow and I am feeling mostly excited.
TOTAL: $59.82
TUESDAY - DAY 7
6:22: My alarm goes off and wakes me from a deep sleep. I finally slept a good 8 hours though!
7:10: I am showered and throw on some black Lululemon Align leggings and a swiftly tech tee. I was gonna wear real pants but screw that haha. I am really dragging this morning.
7:50: Make it to school and lecture starts at 8. Honestly - that lecture could have been given in 45 minutes but we spent the first 2 hours simply going over the schedule and clarifying assignments since everything is such a disorganized hot mess at the beginning of the semester.
10:05: We take a break and call a fellow church congregation member to see if we want to meet today to tour an organization that supports people immigrating. We are debating if we want to allocate church donation funds to them. We agree to meet at the location at 1:30.
12:41: We are done with class and I stayed a bit after to start making my study guide for our first test even though it isn’t for 5 weeks. I realize the time and quickly pack up and go heat up my lunch. Chat with an MSN student who I had met in orientation for my internship a couple weeks ago and he expressed his frustration about how the start of this semester is rough for him too.
2:38: We finish our tour and we are very impressed at the clean and organized operation. We agree to each write our own follow up email to the rest of the group before the end of the day supplying the church donating.
3:30: I make some jasmine tea and have some quiet time when I get home before starting on some dosage calculation problems that are due on Friday.
5:45: I end up spending almost 2.5 hours on homework - dosage calculations, an article summary, and start on a medication sheet. Ouch. I lay down for 20 minutes, take my pup out, and then head out to meet my friend for dinner at Cava.
6:30: I get the lemon chicken bowl and pita chips ($13.69) and we sit and chat for a 1.5 hours. We just saw each other a couple weeks ago, but so much to catch up on.
20:00: We agree to go on a double date in the next couple weeks and I head home. I walk my pup with my mom and brother, pack my gym bag and my food for tomorrow, write my follow up emails from today’s visit to the church committee, and relax in bed.
TOTAL: $13.69
TALLY OF DAILY EXPENSES:

• Food + Drink: $240.36
• Fun / Entertainment: $0
• Home + Health: $0
• Clothes + Beauty: $0
• Transport: $30.67
• Other: $17.98

TOTAL EXPENSES: $279.11
REFLECTION
I spent quite a bit on going out to eat this week with my boyfriend, family, and friends. It was the end of my school break and boyfriend is transitioning to a new job so we were a bit out of whack with spending on food. Usually we eat at home with our families more, but it was nice to go out and enjoy ourselves too. It was a super busy week for me too - which is the norm lately. I have a great community and social life here compared to the West Coast and I do not take that for granted. Trying to make myself more of a priority so I don’t burn out again, which is difficult for me.

Hello! I have been researching and have started purchasing things to begin my tank setup. My plan is to have a 20 gallon, planted aquarium with a betta (probably female), and hopefully some shrimp and perhaps another type of fish, if the betta is chill.
I have some questions I am having a hard time finding answers to. I went to a local Aquascaping store, and they suggested a dark start to begin the cycle. I had been planning on a plant in/fish out cycle, but I don't mind waiting if the dark start is a good idea. I bought Aquasolum for substrate. I initially bought a sponge filter and air pump at a chain pet store, but the aquascaping store recommended UNS Canister Filter instead. They said there's an attachment that makes the flow suitable for a betta fish. So my main question, if anyone has time to help me out -
Would you recommend this filter for a planted 20 Gal community tank, and if not what would you recommend? Also what else, if anything, do I need to buy to go with it? With the sponge filter I bought, I got the air pump but realized it also needed tubing and a valve purchased separately.
So to sum up:

• 20 gallon planted tank
• Aquasolum substrate
• Filter? - Sponge or cannister?
• Fluval 6500k 22 Watt Plant Spectrum Light
• Fluval heater
• Found and sanitized hardwood driftwood
• The test tube water testing kits that everyone has recommended
• Dark start for ~month, then plant and cycle for ~month, then add fish? Is that the best plan?

If you have any suggestions for setup, or see any problems I would love to know. I had a female betta who I really loved like 15 years ago, but I foolishly believed that the betta in a large vase with a plant was appropriate and she only lived like six months. I've always felt terrible about it, and I want to do it right this time.
I would love for the tank to be as much of a happy ecosystem as possible. Happy to do water changes of course, but I would love recommendations for the best tank mate groups that work together to keep the tank balanced and happy too. Shrimp, snails, Cory catfish?
Thank you to anyone who took the time to read all that! I really appreciate any guidance.

I got my first hognose about 3 weeks ago and recently he has been constantly glass surfing it will be for hours straight. He will spend almost all of his time going around the outer edge of the tank and up the glass walls just to flop down. He eats really well for me (still doesn't like the tongs). He's relaxed if he's held but will hiss until he's picked up when trying to. I've also noticed that he will not go into his warm hide he's crawled through the cool one a few times but when it's time for him to sleep or if he's resting he much more prefers being underground.
Should I be concerned by his behavior? He also never really seems to sit still when he's above ground he's constantly moving.
He gets a pinkie every 4 days. Although I'm close to going up to fuzzies. His weight was 23g last time I weighed him.
Tank info: (No pics currently at work) 20 gallons 5% UVB Bulb next to heat lamp bulb 92° basking spot surface 84° air temp on the hot side 75° in middle 71° cool side Humidity is around 40% Back and right side are covered as well as some leaves on the top of the tank on the cool side He has lots of leaves and cover through the tank as well.

Hey y'all,
So I got a shubunkin goldfish for my daughter a month ago. Well, I knew absolutely nothing about fish and went to a local pet store. They were not helpful like I thought they would be compared to a large pet store. (Currently in 20 gallon tank. Had to do a fish in cycle when I realized I was mislead on info through research that night. Was traveling for work otherwise large tank upgrade would've already been made. Learned a lot on taking care of the fish)
So very quickly I realized what I was getting into and started working my butt off to learn everything possible. Well, I don't want any risk of growth stunting or stress to the fish so I bought a 120 gallon tank, appropriate filtration, new gravel, air stones/pumps, etc. I am not sure the best way to support the floor it will be on though. I was thinking 8 ton post jacks located at each edge of the aquarium under the flooring. In-between the jacks and mobile home, and across the supports in between the edges, id use a 2x4 or 4x4.
Does this sound like sufficient supports? Any advice on safeeasier means?
P.S. I asked my daughter (5) if she'd be willing to re-home the fish and get fish suitable for smaller tanks. It is completely her choice though because I won't tell her I'm just getting rid of an animal she already loves when she was given permission to get it in the first place. So now it's time for me to make it work and give the goldfish the best life possible.
Edit: Hey y'all, although I appreciate the recognition of my parenting methods, I do want to say MY WIFE IS THE HERO. We agree together on parenting, but the responsibility is mainly on her. She was an only child. Not used to mayhem. Dealt with severe post partum. All the while I was constantly gone for the army, and now for my job. I try my best to take weight off her shoulders, but she's the one who takes care of things in our household, only with help when I'm home. Taking care of (and approving of) a dog for me, her cat, my daughter's fish, a hamster, AND our 2 kids. She is the one who is a great parent. I just work crazy hours and am practically a friend to my kids who enforces my wife's choices (though, they don't always know what's my wife's choice or not, since we don't want them thinking she's the buzzkill, but she gets the final say on things since the responsibility is mainly on her shoulders) she deserves the praise, not me, she's a hell of a mom and wife, but I genuinely appreciate it y'all.
Update:
So... After going out for a day, picking up jacks, jack stands, wood 4x6, etc, I finally took off the skirting of my place. Well, what my phone camera seemed to perfectly miss is that I have somehow put the fish tank in the best spot in the entire motor home......
At each side of the tank is metal supports reaching out from the center of the trailer. Right in the middle, between both those metal arms, closest to the outer wall, is a screw jack already support up a decent size chunk of wood, which is the only thing I saw on camera.
So, pretty much what I spent 2 days trying to do was already done and I didn't realize it until I bought everything lol.
Anywho, thanks for all the help everyone, tank cycling has began. I appreciate you all.

Hello. New to airbrush, but I seem to keep having paint dry on the needle. Im using a 80/20 thinner to flow improver and thin the paint way down. running the compressor on 20ish psi Any ideas as what i could dry and do? Its happening with every thing from surface primer, to contrast and inks.
Air brush is a cheap amazon one. (using that before starting on my itwata eclipse)

So unfortunately I bought some fish from my local Petsmart that I’m pretty sure we’re sick and all of my fish died suddenly from ich. I took all the water out of my aquarium, threw out all the gravel, fake plants, and decor. I soaked the tank in 8 parts water 1 part bleach and left for 15 minutes before I rinsed it thoroughly and sat to air dry. I did the same thing to the filter and I bought brand new cartridges for the filter and I bought a brand new heater. I’m buying everything new just because I feel like it would be more sanitary as I want to be sure that I am doing my very best to not start out with a contaminated tank again. My tank is only 20 gallons. I’ve got the water in there now with the water conditioner and tomorrow the new filter system will be here so I can start running that. I also have the new heater in the aquarium now. So did I do everything right? Anything anyone suggests that I should additionally do? I had only had my aquarium since December and to have this happen was so upsetting. I had the original fish I had bought initially up and then I decided to get some from Petsmart and that’s when things got ugly and being new to this hobby I had no idea what was going on. So now what? How long until I can add fish after I get the filter back on there?

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I have a new home and we wanted to convert it from oil to natural gas but we found out there is no line to the house. We don't like oil for a number of reasons but mainly the desire to have a system that doesn't depend on someone coming out and filling it at random points among other issues.
Our next thought was electric but the person assessing the work to give us a quote warned us that if we went fully electric (which would require a heat pump) we could see massive electric bills. He was saying like 1200 a month. That sounds insane to me.
I've done some research and don't see anything like that. The main issue I see is performance in very cold temps like 20 and below but not massive electric bills. I'm wondering if anyone is running fully electric and are you encountering high prices (other than the standard) or is this person just giving us an impossible price because he can't source the equipment or something like that. Thank you!
UPDATE: Thank you all for the helpful feedback. Here's what I'm going with after a ton of calculations on various appliances usage of gallons per month vs Kwh of electrical appliances just in case future people have a similar situation and find this.
Oil is being ripped out. It's just something we don't like. We had a bad experience when we first moved here with an oil tank's sediment clogging up our heater in the middle of winter.
In-ground 500-gallon propane tank (in-ground to keep it out of the way, better in cold weather, and safer if there is a leak)
Propane Appliances
-Furnace -Fireplace -Stove (this is up in the air still as we may go with an induction cook top)
All other appliances will be electric after calculating their kwh usage vs gallon usage. Stove is a toss-up as it costs about the same (a bit more expensive for propane). It will be costly in the winter but very low cost/usage in the warmer months. So, mainly, the tank is just for heating.
Thank you again for all the help!

I converted a 20 gallon high for my baby crested. Well maybe baby? baby sized? When are they considered not babies anymore? Hinges and hasp will be here tomorrow and it has been cured for over 48 hours. I have a 3ftx3ft book shelf I plan on converting to a tank for her as she gets bigger.
How big and how many ventilation holes are needed for proper air flow? I currently am testing how it holds humidity because that was my biggest problem with the screen top.
Any suggestions on the tank itself? I do have more foliage picked out on amazon for more horizontal climbing and resting places. Any decorations your gecko prefers?
This is my first DIY and my first gecko. She is very small. I just weighed her and she weighs in at 4g and was born Sept 8th, 2022. I've been feeding dubias or mealworms every 2-3 days, sometimes she eats them sometimes she doesn't. Can I leave them (feeder insects) in her tank overnight? I put 2 bowls of pangea in her home every day.
The picture with her above the sterlite box was from the breeder before buying. I'm thinking maybe she was living in that sterlite box. Could this have stunted her growth? Should I just buy a bunch of different flavors and leave multiple bowls in the enclosure? Any suggestions on weight gain?

On the morning of December 8th, 1941, enlistment offices all across the United States began to be filled by young men eager to enact revenge for what the Empire of Japan had done at Pearl Harbor. The offices would stay busy for a long, long time. It was a dangerous job, with life and limb at serious risk, and many more young men would join the Army and Navy by conscription. Lesser celebrated, and likely they’d have it no other way, were whole second armies of support personnel. These would be nurses, middle-aged clerks too old and or fat to fight, surveyors, engineers, and merchant sailors.
Some would be spies or intelligence men working for the Office of Strategic Services. Others were mysterious ne’er-do-wells, scoundrels who were very good at the procurement of various goods. Some would be anthropologists and translators, eager to help obscure native communities deal with the technologically advanced war tearing the island worlds asunder. Some would be entertainers for the USO, there to help with morale, doing what they were best at, whether it was telling jokes or dancing beautifully. Others might be war correspondents, to communicate, in a highly censored way, what was going on to the folks back home. Then there were the bean counters. Everybody overlooked the bean counters.
Many of the combat veterans, and even some of the non-combat personnel, would never make it home again. Others made it home, but only after being maimed and scarred in body and mind. Yet most would make it home. All of them would have stories to tell, though many would never tell their stories. There was a culture of silence during the war, ‘loose lips sink ships.’ It wasn’t just a catchy phrase, people took it to heart. It became a habit. Even long after the war was over people kept their lips zipped shut.
And yet, there were still millions and millions of stories, and some of them would be recorded. They might be memoirs committed to paper years later. Then again, many of these people kept diaries. They would write home every chance they get. Officers as a regular part of their duties were constantly writing up reports. Every single one would end up being read by someone, somewhere, and passed up the chain depending on its importance, or filed away if the chain ended there. With every battle won or lost, extensive analyses were conducted on what went right and what went wrong, and how we could do better. Actions of bravery were written up for recommendations for medals or promotions. Every serious infraction meant a court-martial, and court martials left transcripts. Bitter denouements and protests were written when it was felt officers weren’t living up to their duties, and in these cases, the lips were zipped especially tight, but the reports themselves were poured over. Every location where the U.S. went, whether it was the location of a battleground, a ranging area for artillery, site for a depot, or a road used to transport was thoroughly mapped and described in detail.
Then there were the bean counters. How many 20 mm shells does it take, on average, to knock down a Val dive bomber? How many pints of A-positive blood should be stocked in a forward field hospital? How many gallons of ice cream are needed to keep a company of Marines in good fighting spirit? The bean counters might not know, but they recorded everything down just in case you wanted to sift through the data, and a lot of people did. The data would end up having a massive contribution to the war effort.
Last were two groups of material that were never meant to see the light of day. The sort of thing that ought to be recorded, but then hidden away only for the purview of top men. The first is information you might expect would cause classification or a cover-up. Disastrous friendly fire incidents. Accusations and or confessions of war crimes. State secrets involving intelligence on enemies and allies both.
Then there’s the other tranche of material. The stuff that defies explanation. Secrets from the hidden corners of the earth that were never meant to be revealed until some young farmboys from a country far away showed up in places where they were never supposed to be.
The following provides an example.
Excerpts from the personal diary of Second Lieutenant Yvette Morgan, Army Nursing Corps, 231st Hospital Group, Normandy region of France, July and August 1944. Aged 20 at the time of writing.
Note: Most American personnel in WWII were restricted from keeping personal diaries for counterintelligence purposes. It was not uncommon that this restriction was flaunted, particularly among personnel with the luxury of a little bit of privacy. Lt. Morgan seems to have understood the purpose of the restriction, and so the redactions in the following excerpts are her own. A careful eye will note she’s made a couple of errors, which is why censorship should be left to the professionals.
July 30th, 1944- Just got off the truck and finally made it back ‘home.’ Just spent all ‘day,’ helping set up the field hospital. We’ve commandeered a high school in the little town of St. A. I think it’s going to work out pretty well. There’s a gym with a tall ceiling and high windows, which means good natural lighting, so we’re setting that up as an operating room. We’ve got about six beds in each classroom, which is just about the number you’d like. The corridors are nice and wide enough to handle gurneys, and there’s plenty of room out front for the ambulances. I don’t think we could have found a better location outside of a purpose-built actual hospital.
The real work starts tomorrow. Well, today, I guess. They ought to be taking patients right about the time I’m writing this. I drew the short stick, and now I’m stuck with the overnight shift. That’s my luck for you. Back home that would have meant at least it would be pretty quiet, but I don’t think that’s going to apply to this kind of duty.
“Home” is actually this nice little old cottage they’ve set me up with, and four other girls. It’s in the tiny commune of L. It’s actually about ten miles from the hospital, not far from the sea. Every shift they’re going to drive us back and forth in these trucks. Seems like an awful waste of gasoline to me, but what do I know? The whole reason they’re doing this is because the hospital’s technically in range of German artillery, and they like to keep staff like us out of harm's way when we’re not needed. I suppose we won’t be in range much longer anyway. That said, Capt. G says the front line’s been stalled out for a while. He says it’s slow going with all these enormous hedgerows they grow everyplace around here. I never knew they could grow so big, they must be hundreds of years old. I thought the poplar windbreaks they started growing back home after the Dust Bowl were impressive, but they’ve got nothing on these things. We can still hear the guns, though. They’re a long way off, and kind of sound like thunder, though you can tell they’re not because the sky is perfectly clear. At least, I hope, they’re mostly our guns.
The morning’s still a little chilly, but it promises to be a warm day. I’m going to have to get used to sleeping through it. After long last summer is really here. The cottage itself is lovely. I can’t help but wonder about the people who really make this home. There’s a delightful flower garden in front and just the most precious herb garden right outside the kitchen window. When I get married and we have a home, I’m going to insist on one just like it.
The other girls? Well, what can I say. 5 of us all sharing this little place, at least we’ll be working different shifts mostly. I’m sure we’ll get by swimmingly.
July 31st- Just got back and finished breakfast for dinner. Part of me still wishes I were at work. If I were at a civilian hospital I still would be. Funny how the military insists on sticking to the scheduled shift and they order me to go home and get some sleep. I might get used to such regimentation.
I say this as if I’m not completely exhausted and overwhelmed. I’m sure I’ll sleep tonight. Today, whatever. As I’d suspected, we had our first wounded in during the morning shift. Most of them had been through the Mobile Advanced hospital and had been at least looked over by a doctor. Plenty had already gone through an initial surgery, just to stabilize them, close gaping wounds, and tie off arteries. It was really crude stuff, but I suppose that’s the point. Our doctors opened them back up and fixed them up properly. There were a few walking wounded, shrapnel wounds, and nasty burns we were able to help out too. I feel glad to be part of such a great team. I spent the first half of my shift assisting in two different surgeries. Then the last half attending the wards.
I had hoped that would be more peaceful. Our boys are so brave, even when you can tell they’re really broken up over what they’ve been through. And yet it wasn’t meant to be.
I mentioned that St. A.’s was within range of German artillery. Well, there was an attack last night, early this morning, I’m still not used to the schedule. They didn’t hit the hospital. They hit the other side of town. It was loud enough to shake all of the windows, and even the ground shook. It scared the daylights out of me. Some of the boys yelled too. A couple of them fell out of their beds and tried to hide underneath. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that a second time, let alone time after time, day after day like our boys.
I was just starting to get things settled down and everything squared. Then there was commotion. A bunch of orderlies, then nurses, then doctors running around the front main hall. We were expecting wounded. They’d hit an old medieval church on the other side of town. The Church of Saint Adalthred. There had been a platoon of soldiers sleeping there. Now they were bringing the survivors in.
I had never done triage before, though I remembered my training. You divide the patients into three groups. The group that needs surgery absolutely immediately if they’re going to live. The group that can wait for surgery. And then there’s the group that will die regardless.
There were two young men that were in the last group. The first had a massive open head wound. The strange thing was he was perfectly conscious and capable of speaking, despite the injury. There was just nothing that we could do for him. He was alert for about an hour, and then he simply passed away. Is it horrible to think that was something of a mercy?
The other suffered terrible burns, and apparently some of the blast as well. After the triage, I was assigned to care for him. The doctor had estimated over 90 percent of his body suffered burns in the third degree. The kind of amount that really makes you question your faith. I’ve seen burn patients, but not when they get first arrive like this. His eyes and ears were gone. A strange thing was, he wasn’t screaming like we’d expect burn patients to do. The doctor said his vocal cords were burnt out, but his lungs were relatively free of smoke damage, and he didn’t have that horrible cough. The doctor said it was like “he’d inhaled flame.” He was simply silent. He’s not expected to last the night. Day, I mean. I suppose I won’t see him again. I suppose that’s mercy too.
I mentioned yesterday that I think a school building serves as a fine hospital in a pinch. I’m not sure about that anymore. It’s the ventilation. There isn’t any in the school. Fumes from the ether linger everywhere. So does the stink of infection, no matter how much we fight it. And that last patient. It was like he was roasted. Literally. I thought I’d be sick.
August 1st- The truck ride back is starting to become my favorite part of the day. This one was a long one, despite being the exact same length as all the other shifts. We’re really packed now. The minute we get one patient ready for transport back to England, another takes his bed. They say the war might be over before Christmas. I hope. Don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up this pace for so long.
The little old priest whose church got blown up by the Germans came around to volunteer at the hospital. Poor old thing has nowhere else to go. He’s helping us roll bandages, working the autoclaves, and helping the chaplain out with the prayers. He seems to be helping with morale, god bless him. Particularly the chaplain’s. The priest doesn’t speak English and the chaplain doesn’t speak French, but they both speak Latin well enough to get by. I’ve never heard it spoken before. I grew up Lutheran, and it seems so strange. I’m a long way from home.
The burn patient is still alive. I was really surprised when I got in and found out. Apparently so are the doctors. Of course, I’m attending him again and was asked to change his bandages. Most of the rest of his skin that hadn’t already sloughed off last night did so while I was changing them. I didn’t see any sign of infection yet, though of course, we all know what’s coming. Other than that there wasn’t much I can do. He’s started letting off this low moan. The doctor said he was not really conscious. I can’t imagine he would be, he’s still getting so much morphine.
He was already bleeding through before my shift ended, so I thought I’d do the next shift a favor and take care of it a second time on the same shift. This time the doctor had me place his arms over his chest and belly, and bandage them all together. Also, he had me bandage his legs together. The doctor said that if there’s a miracle and somehow he manages to pull through, it will be because he somehow beat the infection. And if he’s going to have any chance at all then we’ll need to minimize his contact with bandages until can receive grafts. When I was done he ended up looking like a mummy, right out of the pictures. I don’t think it will matter much, and neither does the doctor. But we have to keep trying.
August 2nd- Just got back. The burn victim is still alive. It’s so strange. It’s all I can think about now. When I first got in I went straight to his room. I was absolutely shocked, it was gruesome. His bandages were positively soaked through. There was more red than white. I was just about to chew out the girl on the shift before me. I thought that nobody had changed the bandages since my last shift, but then she told me that she’d just changed them two hours previously. I couldn’t make head or tales of it. So I just got to work changing them myself. It felt so odd, the way the other patients in the room were looking at us. Like they knew there was something off about the whole thing. The patient’s moaning is getting louder too. It must be so unnerving to the others sharing the room.
Then, of all things, Maj. P and Col. S came in to observe. I haven’t seen either of them since we started setting up the hospital. They don’t usually stay up so late. They were washed up and decided to help me bandage the patient. As if they weren’t just there to observe me, but wanted to be a part of it too.
Sure enough, after only a couple of hours, the bandages were soaked through again. I’ve never seen such terribly bleeding. I asked the doctor if it could have possibly been hemophilia. It’s something I’ve only heard about but haven’t seen. He only shook his head like he was sure that it wasn’t. Yet he also looked even more confused than I was. We’ve been giving the patient transfusions. But at this rate, I just don’t know where it’s all coming from.
I know I shouldn’t be writing this sort of thing down, but the doctor confided that he’s thinking of reducing the morphine, maybe the patient will be more lucid. I don’t know how the doctor expects him to communicate with his vocal cords destroyed, or what he could possibly have to say even if he could talk. Well, it’s not my place to decide. I think he knows more about what’s happening to the poor man than I do.
It was all just blood too. In the bandages. No pus at all. I don’t know how he’s not becoming infected.
August 3rd- There’s a great deal of strangeness happening at the hospital. I saw the General’s staff car the moment our truck pulled around to drop us off, the little flags on the front gave it away.. Instead of starting my shift, they asked me to come back to Col. S’s office. My first thought was that I was in trouble, and they’d somehow find this diary. Both Maj. P and Col. S. were there, along with Gen C. who’d driven down from Corps HQ with a couple of his staff. There were also two men from what might have been regular Army, except they wore two long dark coats. I didn’t get their names.
Apparently, they’d all been there for hours and were wanting to debrief me. Well, it sure was intimidating, but they just wanted me to tell them what I’d seen. Fair enough. The patient was burned all over his body. He probably should have died the first night but hasn’t. There’s an awful amount of bleeding which I can’t account for. There’s also no pus or smell of infection, which also didn’t make sense. I told them about how he’s been given large amounts of morphine, though I didn’t say what Cap. H had said about reducing it. No, he had never been capable of speaking since brought in. No, he hadn’t been wearing his dog tags, but between the blast, and the length of time he’d been burning, he must have stripped everything off. Surely they were back in the rubble of that church. Then they thanked me and told me I could go back to work.
Well, I’d just about had it. I stood up and demanded that if they knew something about my patient that they weren’t telling me and that if they did I could take better care of him, well then they had better tell me. I think I even swore though I didn’t mean to. Maj. P almost laughed and Col. S just gave me that stupid patronizing smile. Told me I was already doing everything that I could, and that they were proud of me. He’s a good man, but I’m getting really sick of this Army “that’s on a need-to-know basis” crap.
Rest of the shift was just the usual. Strange how it's become the norm now. No, there was something else. The burn patient was in his room by himself. They’d moved the other beds out. They didn’t tell me why. Probably because his moan’s getting worse. And raspier. I still don’t think he’s out of the morphine stupor though.
Alright, it’s later the same day, the second. I’ve just woken up and had a serious chat with Kathy, the nurse from the second shift, and she’s had a lot to talk about. Rumors are swirling. I don’t know how much of this is true. My gut instinct? It’s all true.
Those men in the long coats? The rumor is they were Army Intelligence. That didn’t make a lick of sense to me at first, but then it started to come together. It turns out there were supposed to be 30 men, including the C.O., in that church that night it got shelled. Nobody else. Except when they added up all the survivors (who’ve moved on to the front), all the wounded that were taken to our hospital, and those who died, which took a while to count, then it all added up to 31 men. So somebody was there who wasn’t supposed to be there, and nobody knows who it is. They think they’ve got all of the dog tags accounted for, which might have been why they asked me about it when I came in later that night. And the one person they can’t account for seems to be the burn victim.
So they didn’t know who it was. Nobody from the St. A.’s was missing. None of the French Resistance were around that night (apparently Intelligence asked them? How else would they know?). So it's really suspicious and they were worried he might be some kind of spy or infiltrator. They still don’t even know why that church was shelled in the first place.
So they started asking questions of that poor old priest who’s been volunteering. We know because they let the chaplain sit in with him, but it seems both of the intelligence guys spoke fluent French. They asked him if there were any kind of acolyte or initiate or whatever sort of junior clergy he might have could have been there. He said no, and anybody who might have was accounted for and healthy. He asked if there was anything valuable that could have been stolen, or maybe he feared could be looted (would our boys do that?). Well, he didn’t think so. There was the holy font, which was an antique, but there were many like it and it was hardly easy to move. There was the Bible at the altar. It was very old and had great sentimental value, but again it would have no value to thieves. There was the tomb of St. Adalthred himself, which was priceless to his community but was a part of the church itself. Why the church had been built in the first place. Impossible to steal.
Then they asked the priest to come and view the patient. Perhaps seeing his proportions, perhaps it might have helped him recollect a similar person he’d seen lately. I understand why they did it. He, the burn victim, does seem shorter than any soldier I’ve met, skinner too. I wish they hadn’t, though. The chaplain said the priest had cried over seeing all those bloody bandages. There wasn’t a point, because the priest said he didn’t recognize him. The strange thing was, the chaplain had said that the priest's behavior seemed really strange. Like they got the really strong sense that the priest was being cagey, and lying to them. Not that he recognized the figure per se, but that he was thinking of something that he wasn’t telling them. He also insisted on saying a prayer over the burnt figure before he left, and they let him.
When I asked why they’d moved all the other beds in the room, Kathy said a little while after the priest had left the burn victim had started screaming, really bad. The other patients asked if they could leave the room, and because of the mystery, Col. S. agreed to it so they could isolate the burnt man. He was only calmer when I arrived later because they’d given him more morphine. When Kathy told me how much my jaw hit the floor. That part has to be baseless rumor.
August 8- I’m back in England. I’ve been too worked up to write, and worried, of course. After it happened, they put me in a truck, drove me to L. to pick up my things, and then I was on a Skytrain back to Cornwall. I guess we stopped at the cottage as a courtesy, it was on the way to the airfield. I was worried they’d find this diary, but they never searched. I don’t think they know what to do with me. I’m not sure what they should do either. They might just send me home, I suppose. I wouldn’t protest that. I just want to get on with things.
So. That night. The 4th.
I’ll start when I get off the truck. That moment when you hit the ground after jumping out of the bed is so sharp like it just sets your whole day. Like a starter pistol at a race. Something about it seemed off just as I was walking towards the door. Now I get in, and the front gallery, ever since that night of the triage, is a pretty empty place. But somebody was waiting for me, and it was Col. S. He came right up to me the moment he saw me. What an upside-down experience.
He starts leading me down the side hall, towards the back of the hospital/school where his office was. So of course I expected he needed to talk to me about something in his office. Only it turned out it wasn’t his office anymore. I thought something was off when I saw two armed guards on either side of the door to his often. Almost as soon, I heard the screaming.
I have just enough time to puzzle together what’s happened when Col. S walks right in, me in tow. They’d moved the burn patient to Col. S’s office, and he’d cleared out. The reason was obvious. The patient was screaming. Really, really loud. It hurt my ears in such a small office. The office was as about as far removed from the rest of the patients as they could move him. His bandages were soaked through, totally bright red. Jet red? Is jet red a thing? If you saw him, you’d say it was. It looked like they had been in the middle of starting to change his bandages, or just about to finish. Because there were parts of his flesh that were exposed. I didn’t realize it at first, and could only tell because of the texture.
I was just staring at him for a while. Jaw wide open. Then I looked at Col. S. He had been watching my reaction. He had such a sympathetic look. I asked him “How long has he been like this?”
“For hours,” he said. Like he was apologizing.
“How much morphine did you give him?” I asked. He was a doctor in his own right, of course. He didn’t get a chance to perform much surgery now that he’s the administrator, but I don’t think that ever leaves you.
He looked like he was about to cry.
“Lethal?” I asked.
“More,” he whispered.
We stood there silent for a few moments. Then he explained the situation. The only people allowed in the room would be doctors. Myself, and he explained I was the nurse with the most experience with him, and that I was the one he trusted the most. I’d have no other duties this shift. The chaplain was allowed in, and the priest. Also, the two guards out front, and that was it. He told me “The men from intel will be back, and a couple of spooks. We’ll figure it out then.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but I just nodded.
Well, the chaplain was there, though he looked a total mess. And it turned out the priest had stayed late but had gone home, exhausted.
So I did my duties. Changed bandages. Changed IV bottles. There were two chairs in the room, one for me and one for the chaplain. With only the one patient sometimes I’d wait. We couldn’t really chat. The screaming was too loud. I don’t think either of us got used to it.
I suppose it was about 3 AM. Mom used to call that the witching hour. Around three it started to change. The screaming that is, the cadence of it. Is that the right word? He started screaming words. Very garbled, but words. That was when I remembered the doctor had said his vocal cords had been destroyed. Had he been wrong? It had to be. Both I and the chaplain were standing over him then. The chaplain whispering prayers. Sometimes we’d look at each other like maybe the other knew what was happening. There were no answers.
The words started getting clearer. Not that we understood them, but they kind of sounded like they were French. Both I and the chaplain thought he, the patient, was becoming lucid. The chaplain opened up the door and told the guards to get the colonel, also to send somebody to find the priest. I suppose anybody could have translated, or so I thought at the time, but getting the priest sounded right.
Well, the colonel wasn’t in, but Maj. P. was. He spoke a little French, but he couldn’t understand the words. I’m still glad he was there. As a witness. I’m glad me and the chaplain weren’t the only ones. It was like the patient was chanting.
It was, maybe ten minutes after the major arrived. The screaming just stopped. No words. Just heavy breathing. Hyperventilating maybe. It occurred to me then that the bandages had become soaked through again. I’d been there the whole time. Watching. Only now had I noticed. He was glistening. The bedding was bloody too, of course. It was everywhere. And then…
Then it happened.
I had been facing another direction. But there was a sound. Like a massive, loud inhalation of are. There was this bright light, like when a lightbulb is about to short out. Except I felt the heat, and I turned. The patient had burst into flames.
I screamed. I think the chaplain and major did too. The two guards ran in. Maybe they sent somebody else to fetch the priest. They just yelled and weren’t able to do anything else. In a normal circumstance, I think somebody would have fetched an extinguisher. Except the patient suddenly sat straight up in his bed. We were positively paralyzed. He was screaming again, and all we could do is watch. His bandages and bedding all burned away. Only then he stopped.
There was this man before us. He had no skin. No eyes. Glistening red, and patches of black where the ash still clung to him. He looked at us. Looked at me. There were two black holes in his face, above the hole for his nose, and his mouth, lips burned away and teeth missing. But the holes for his eyes… I could feel him looking at me despite having no eyes.
Then he spoke. It was French again, at least I thought. I couldn’t understand it. Full sentences. Raspy, but clear. No sign of pain or duress. Yet it was authoritative like he was in full command of his faculties.
I don’t think it lasted long before the priest came rushing in. The priest said something like “sortie” and then the Major told us to get out, the chaplain and I.
We did and closed the door behind us. The two guards were further down the hall, clearly rattled.
We could hear the priest and the burned man talking. Clearly, through the door. The burned man was distinguishable by the rasp in his voice, the commanding tone. Yet as we listened, there was something off. The burned man’s French was different than the priest’s French. It was like they didn’t understand each other. It was like they were speaking two different dialects, and I didn’t realize until I heard them both being spoken next to each other.
There was a pause of silence. And then the priest started speaking in Latin. I saw a look of relief on the chaplain’s face when the burned man responded, also in Latin.
The two spoke, the burned man and the priest. They went on and on, me not understanding any of it. The burned man seemed to calm, the priest becoming more anxious as they went. Then I turned to the chaplain again. His attention was totally focused on the closed door, but he was listening to the priest and the burned man talk.
He was shaking, and pale as a ghost. I’ve seen men shake. I’ve seen them shake from the effects of blood loss and shock. I’ve seen them shake because they’ve been mad from war. I’ve seen them shake from hypothermia and hypoglycemia and drug overdoses. I’ve seen no end of fear in their eyes. Fear as they’re going under anesthesia, or having their limbs removed, or knowing they’re about to die from their wounds.
I’ve never seen a man so afraid or shaken than that chaplain on that night. And all because he was able to follow that conversation in Latin.
The door suddenly opened. The priest waved us aside, looking more determined than I’d ever seen him. We pressed ourselves against the wall to get out of the way. The burned man followed him. Silent. Walking. We watched them walk down the hallway. The guards turned and fled. Then the priest and the burnt figure turned the corner, and that was the last that I saw of them.
I remember looking back into the room and seeing the Major, slumped in a chair, hands covered his face. The smoke from the burning bandages and bedding still hung in the air, sweet and strong and foul due to the lack of ventilation.
The two men in the long coats showed up. There were also a couple of men in suits. Civilians, I guess. They sort of took charge. Then they just put me on a truck, didn’t even ask me any questions.
And that’s what happened.
I’ve been on this base for a couple of days. They seem to be giving me a lot of freedom, they let me go into town yesterday. I went to a library. It wasn’t a very big one, but I guess it didn’t need to be. I found a hagiography. Or, I guess, a sort of encyclopedia on the subject of saints.
There was a very small entry on the subject of Saint Adalthred. Very little was known about him. He’d been a saint in early medieval France. He’d preached to royalty. The Marrowvingians I think it said, I don’t know what that is. Like all saints, he’d performed three miracles. Like all saints, he’d been martyred. He’d been burned at the stake. His last miracle had been his own resurrection.
I don’t know what to do with this diary. I never should have started it, and yet I think it’s important that I did. I think I’m going to turn myself in and give it to them. I suppose they’ll court-martial me over it, send me home. I don’t want to go home, but maybe I deserve it. At any rate, clearly, there are higher powers than me at work here.
-End copy.-
All of the documentation by the U.S. during the war was massive. All of the officers, nurses, spies, bean counters, and everybody else contributed to the pile. This was long before the digital age, or even microfiche, so the sheer scale of the paperwork is hardly conceivable. It could have been measured by the cargo holds of liberty ships.
After the war, the Army and Navy needed someplace to store it all. Any of it could have had unforeseen value, and destroying it was never an option. In 1951, with the Korean War raging and threatening to exacerbate the document problem, the Department of Defense decided to build a massive new warehouse archive to store it all. In 1956, the Military Personnel Records Center was finished. Ostensibly the archive was meant to store personnel records, but the military being the military, and the warehouse being of such a huge scale, it housed other records as well. Records such as the nurse’s diary, records of things unnatural. Supernatural. Only to be seen by top men.
One of the items discussed during the facility’s construction was the inclusion of a sprinkler fire prevention system. There was a concern that such a system could leak, and cause water damage to all the important documents. So the archive was built without one.
In 1973 the building burned down, taking millions of documents with it. The cause was never officially determined. At the time, and for many years after, the biggest problem was the bureaucratic nightmare it caused for millions of veterans and collecting the benefits they were entitled to.
To a very small community, namely us, the damage was a travesty. That’s the purpose of this project. To retrieve the documentation, study, and catalog it, this entry is only the first example. Naturally, the question arises- how do we retrieve these files if they were all destroyed in the fire? Well, that’s on a need-to-know basis, Lieutenant, and you don’t need to know.
​
Author's Notes: The War Files is meant to be an on-going series of horror stories set in and around WWII, and the very real Archive Fire. Maybe it would make a good podcast? This was sort of a pilot episode and thought it would fit the theme of this month's event. If you liked the story and want to read more, I'll probably post them either to my subreddit EBDavis or my substack ebdavis.substack.com

The entirety of Harry "Truck" Hannah's major league career came with the New York Yankees -- all three years of it. But if you include his participation in the minors, he had a long career, beginning in 1909 with the Tacoma Tigers in the Northwestern League and ending in 1940 with the Memphis Chickasaws in the Southern Association. He is one of only a handful of players to have a hit in five different decades!
Of all the forgotten Yankee with memorable nicknames -- No Neck, Stanky the Yankee, Sailor Bob, Spud, Slow Joe, The Mummy, Birdie, Bump, and Grandma Johnny -- there's something to be said about the sublime elegance of a big, brawny catcher nicknamed Truck.
James Harrison Hannah Jr. was born 134 years ago today, on June 5, 1889, in what was then the Dakota Territory. (It would become the state of North Dakota about five months later.) By age 2, the family had moved to Seattle, Washington.
As a kid, he was called Harry, but by the time he was playing baseball, he was universally known as Truck. There are several stories as to how he got the nickname. Some said it had to do with his imposing size -- he stood 6'1" and weighed a solid 190 pounds -- and others because of the way he could block the plate as easily as a truck could block a street. Other sources say the nickname wasn't comparing him to a motor vehicle but to a horse, or rather a truck horse, as horses that pulled heavy wagons were called at the time. His daughter, Helen, said he got the nickname simply because he was "big and slow."
Another explanation, a little less colorful, was that Hannah paid the bills in the off-season by working as a truck driver!
Hall of Fame Umpire Billy Evans said Hannah was adept at the catcher's trick of distracting the batter with a steady stream of banter while behind the plate:

"Truck Hannah always has been an object of interest to me when catching. Aside from always doing a pretty good job receiving, he never failed to have a line of conversation that would make a bigger hit on the vaudeville circuit than some of the stuff used by some monologue artists. Hannah keeps up a continual chatter from the time the game starts. Of course, his conversation is largely directed at the batter, in the hope that his line of talk will take the mind of the batter from his work, the making of base hits. He seeks to keep the batter from concentrating, and from the many strikes slipped over by the New York pitchers, I would say there was merit in his system. Hannah's conversation is never objectionable. He usually has the batter laughing at some of his talk, rather than sore."

But Hannah used more than just banter to distract batters. As the pitch was being delivered, he would sometimes spit tobacco juice onto a player's shoes, toss pebbles onto the plate, or throw dirt at their hands on the bat!
Hannah got his start in professional baseball as a 20-year-old third baseman with the Tacoma Tigers in the Northwestern League. When the team needed an emergency catcher, Hannah was put behind the plate and stuck there for the rest of his career. Over the next five years he played for five different teams in four different leagues, until in 1914 finally catching on with the Sacramento Wolves in the Pacific Coast League. The PCL at the time was considered by some to be a third major league, or at least the minor league closest to major league competition, and Hannah was regarded as one of the best catchers in the league. He drew interest from several major league teams, including the Tigers, Phillies, and Browns. But it was the Yankees who finally acquired him, paying $4,000 to acquire his rights after he hit .292 in 569 at-bats in 1917.
Truck pulled into the Polo Grounds -- not Yankee Stadium, which wouldn't be built until 1923 -- as the foundation was being laid for a dynasty. Jacob Ruppert and Tillinghast Huston purchased the Yankees in 1915 and immediately set about reversing the fortunes of what had been for years one of the worst-run teams in the American League. The Yankees, as they became known in 1913, had only winning season in the last 10 years.
The new owners set about making changes, acquiring a number of valuable players: Wally Pipp, Home Run Baker, Ping Bodie, Aaron Ward, Urban Shocker, and previously forgotten Yankee Bob Shawkey.
After the 1917 season they made the biggest change of all, firing well-liked manager Bill Donovan and replacing him with former St. Louis Cardinals manager Miller Huggins, who over the next 11 years would lead the Yankees to six pennants and three World Series.
Huggins made another move, acquiring from the St. Louis Browns future Hall of Fame pitcher "Gettysburg Eddie" Plank and veteran second baseman Del Pratt. The latter would be a good player for the Yankees, hitting .295/.348/.394 (106 OPS+) over the next three seasons, but the 42-year-old Plank refused to report and retired instead. In return, the Yankees shipped out five players... including starting catcher Les Nunamaker, who had been with the Yankees for four seasons.
And so, needing a catcher to replace Nunamaker, the Yankees paid the Salt Lake City Bees $4,000 for Hannah. He was expected to battle 22-year-old Muddy Ruel to be the backup to the 25-year-old Roxy Walters, who had been Nunamaker's understudy since September 1915, but Ruel would be drafted into the U.S. Army and Walters broke his finger in an exhibition game 10 days before Opening Day. By the time Walters was ready to play again, Hannah was hitting .288/.432/.356 and had thrown out 19 out of 34 basestealers; over the rest of the season, he would maintain that pace to lead the league in CS% (55%) as well as in double plays as a catcher (16). His batting average would fade dramatically, however, dropping all the way to .220 by the end of the season, but he was still contributing with a .361 OBP in 312 plate appearances. Walters's bat never got started at all, and hitting just .199/.239/.236 in 205 plate appearances.
Technically a major league rookie when he joined the team, the 29-year-old Hannah was treated like a veteran from his four seasons in the well-respected Pacific Coast League. In addition, he was -- literally as well as figuratively, at 6'1" -- one of the few players on the team who could see eye-to-eye with the 6'2" Babe Ruth when he was acquired prior to the 1920 season. When Ruth got into squabbles with diminutive manager Miller Huggins, it was often Hannah's duty to keep the peace.
Yankee shortstop Roger Peckinpaugh, the Yankee captain from 1914 to 1921, described one such incident to long-time Yankee PR man Marty Appel in 1974:

"Once we were leaving Boston after a tough loss, and Babe was drunk, and he said he was gonna throw Huggins off the train! He was heading for his drawing room. On the way he stopped in the men’s room and punched this huge mirror. It fell into a million pieces. Me and Ernie Shore and Truck Hannah pulled him down to the ground and sat on him until he passed out. Truck — a big guy — puts him over his shoulder and moves him to the next car."

At the end of the season, the Yankees were happy enough with Hannah that they traded Roxy Walters to the Red Sox. For the next two years, the catching duties were almost evenly split between Hannah and Ruel, who was back from the Army with the end of World War I.
The "Muddy-Truck" tandem was colorfully named but disappointing, with Ruel hitting .255/.325/.306 (71 OPS+) in 560 PA and Hannah .243/.313/.317 (70 OPS+) in 553 PA. Catcher in those days was very much a defense-first position, and both had good gloves, but the Yankees (even with the newly acquired Babe Ruth having an 11.7 bWAR season) finished three games out of 1st in 1920.
Ruppert and Huston asked Huggins what the team needed to win, and his answer: a catcher.
At the end of the season, the Yankees sent Hannah back to the Pacific Coast League, and traded Ruel to the Red Sox for previously forgotten Yankee Wally Schang, the first in the long line of great Yankee catchers. In his five years with the Yankees, the switch-hitting Schang hit .297/.390/.406 (105 OPS+), and in the 1923 World Series -- the first of 27 won by the Yankees -- Schang played every inning of every game, went 7-for-22 (.318) with a double and three runs scored, and allowed just one stolen base.
Hannah would stay in the Pacific Coast League for the next 22 years as a player, coach, and manager. He had a great year with the Vernon Tigers in 1923, hitting .346 with 23 doubles and 6 home runs in 370 plate appearances. His final plate appearance came on May 19, 1940, when he was managing the Memphis Chicks. Two weeks shy of his 51st birthday, with both his catchers injured, Hannah caught both ends of a doubleheader and went 1-for-6.
Hannah retired from baseball two years later after his St. Paul Saints lost 15 games in a row -- 11 of them by one run! He said he couldn't sleep anymore, replaying every loss in his head over and over, second-guessing every decision he made as manager.
He retired to his ranch in Southern California, but remained active enough in the regional baseball scene that when the Los Angeles Angels played their first major league game in 1961, Hannah was selected to catch the ceremonial first pitch.
Truck Hannah died on April 27, 1982, five weeks shy of his 93rd birthday. His wife, Helen, died in October, a month before what would have been their 70th wedding anniversary.
Keep On Truckin':

• One of the more interesting aspects in researching information about Truck Hannah is in looking for pictures of him, you come across many photos of trucks owned by women named Hannah.
  
• Hannah made his major league debut against the great Walter Johnson. In his first major league plate appearance, he singled up the middle! He popped out his second time up, then struck out. His fourth time up he drew a walk against Johnson, advanced to second on a single, and scored his first major league run on a double, and the Yankees won, 6-3. Not a bad debut against the future Hall of Famer!
  
• According to his SABR biography: "Hannah’s daughter may have led a more interesting life than her ballplaying father. Helen Lorraine (Hannah) Campbell was one of the first women in Los Angeles to enlist in the Marine Corps during World War II, and retired from the Marine Corps Reserve in 1975 after 32 years of service. She was also a chaperone for several years with the Muskegon and Kalamazoo teams in the All American Girls Professional Baseball League, the league that inspired the 1992 movie A League of Their Own. At the age of 75 she went parasailing for the first time and at 78 sailed over Africa’s Serengeti plains in a hot-air balloon. She died in 2013 at the age of 97."
  
• On May 12, 1920, Hannah went 4-for-4 (all singles) with two runs and two RBIs in a 14-8 rout of the Chicago White Sox. Hannah singled twice in a seven-run 6th inning, as did pitcher Bob Shawkey; it was the first time in major league history that a pitcher and catcher each had two hits in the same inning.
  
• That was Hannah's best day as a major leaguer, but he had another four-hit day on September 11, 1920, with a double and three singles in five at-bats against the Cleveland Indians.
  
• Truck Hannah was the first major leaguer born in what would become North Dakota when he made his debut on April 15, 1918. He also is one of three Yankees born in North Dakota: Ken Hunt, an outfielder in the Yankee farm system from 1952 to 1960 who had a couple cups of coffee in the Bronx, and later played for the Angels and Senators; and long-time Cleveland Indians 1B/DH Travis Hafner, who ended his career with the Yankees in 2013. The most famous Yankee raised in North Dakota is Roger Maris, but he was actually born in Minnesota. The family moved to Fargo when Maris was 8 years old. A total of 20 major leaguers were born in North Dakota, and the best, by bWAR, was Angels outfielder and two-time All-Star Darin Erstad.
  
• Hannah is on the All-Palindromic Last Name Team, along with Dean Anna, Toby Harrah, Eddie Kazak, Dave Otto, Glenn Otto, Dick Nen, Robb Nen, Johnny Reder, Juan Salas, and Mark Salas.
  
• In 1917, Hannah was behind the plate for the Salt Lake City Bees in the Pacific Coast League when former New York Giants outfielder Fred Snodgrass came up to the plate for the Vernon Tigers. Hannah, by this time a 28-year-old nine-year minor league veteran and hitting a respectable .292, wasn't impressed. "So you're a big leaguer? I guess you're going to come out here and show us how the Giants used to do it, eh? Let's see if you can hit this one." That off-season, major league teams asked Snodgrass for his opinion on the top players in the Pacific Coast League, and his report on Hannah: "I don’t like him personally, but I must say he is the best all around catcher in this league, and my dislike for him does not blind me to that fact."
  
• George Halas -- who would later be the founder of the Chicago Bears -- was a 24-year-old rookie on the New York Yankees in 1919. He was on the bench sitting next to Truck Hannah during a game against the Tigers, staring wide-eyed as his boyhood idol, the legendary Ty Cobb, strode to the plate. Hannah, maybe pranking the rookie, told Halas he ought to razz Cobb to try to throw him off his game. Halas did as he was told, and to his surprise, got a reaction: Cobb dropped his bat, marched over to the Yankee dugout, and pointed at Halas. "Punk! I'll see you after the game! Don't forget, punk!" Halas, a Navy veteran and a college football player, was no punk but not exactly looking forward to a brawl against the famously irascible Cobb. He stayed in the locker room as long as possible, hoping Cobb would be gone by the time he emerged, but when he finally came out, the Georgia Peach was waiting for him. "I like your spirit, kid," Cobb said, "but don't overdo it when you don't have to." Halas said it was a lesson he never forgot.
  
• Speaking of Cobb, he told a sportswriter he didn't care for Hannah's distracting patter behind the plate: “This fellow Hannah of the New York club keeps me busier at the plate than any other catcher in the league. I don’t like letting a recruit outtalk me, and in my effort to keep my end of the conversation, I had my work cut out for me making base hits off those Yankee pitchers.”
  
• Carl Mays, who had pitched for the Red Sox since 1915, was acquired by the Yankees on July 30, 1919. Delighted to go from the 38-48 Red Sox to the 48-38 Yankees, Mays made the rounds in the clubhouse, shaking hands. When he got to Hannah, he offered his hand, but Hannah shoved him away, then charged after him. Mays backed up until Hannah vaulted over a table and cornered him against a wall -- and only then did Hannah shake his hand. "We're even," Hannah said, grinning. Since the previous season, Hannah and Mays had been feuding. Mays took great pride in keeping his uniform spotless, and hated Hannah's trick of spitting tobacco juice onto his shoes while batting. So every time Hannah came up to the plate, Mays came "up and in" to make him hit the dirt. In April, the last time they'd face each other, Mays plunked him. But now they were teammates and all was forgiven. Ironically, a year later, Mays would kill Cleveland Indians shortstop Ray Chapman with a pitch that hit him in the head.
  
• During the off seasons, Hannah played in the California Winter League, believed to be the only integrated league in professional baseball at the time. Hannah also played against Negro Leaguers when barnstorming with Babe Ruth in 1920 and Dizzy Dean in 1935.
  
• Prior to the 1927 season, Babe Ruth made a silent movie called Babe Comes Home. Based on a short story called "Said With Soap," it had quite the plot: Ruth is Babe Dugan, a ballplayer whose tobacco-chewing habit means his uniform is always stained. He falls in love with Vernie, the laundress who cleans the team uniforms, but she wants him to stop chewing tobacco. Babe then goes into a slump, and finds himself on the bench. Vernie finally relents and gives him a plug of tobacco, and Babe hits a game-winning home run. The movie was filmed at Wrigley Field -- not that one, but a field with the same name in Los Angeles. It was the home stadium for the Los Angeles Angels, and on the Angels were several ex-Yankees, including Truck Hannah. Ruth was much more interested in his old pals than in the movie, and the exasperated director struggled to keep Ruth's attention. Finally, he moved Ruth to a distant park of the stadium, as far away as he could from Hannah and the other ex-Yankees. But Hannah and the others kept mischievously hitting balls in his direction, causing Ruth to botch take after take!
  
• Hannah was in two movies himself, both times as a baseball playing extra. The films are notable because they are both early "talkies". His first appearance was in 1928's Warming Up, about a pitcher (played by Richard Dix, later a star in westerns) who falls in love with the team owner's daughter (played by Jean Arthur, who would later co-star with Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington). A year later Hannah was in Fast Company, about a baseball player (Jack Oakie) who is inspired to greatness thanks to fan letters he thinks come from a beautiful woman (Evelyn Brent) but are actually written by his conniving manager (Skeets Gallagher). In 1940, Oakie was nominated for an Academy Award for his performance as a parody of Benito Mussolini in Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator.
  
• Joe DiMaggio, still a teenager, played for the San Francisco Seals in the Pacific Coast League from 1932 to 1935. Hannah, with the Los Angeles Angels, played against him often. Prior to DiMaggio's debut with the Yankees in 1936, a sportswriter asked the former big leaguer for his scouting report on DiMaggio. "They'll be comparing him to Tris Speaker and Harry Hooper and those fellows in a year or two," Hannah said. Truck was right: Speaker and Hooper were both Hall of Fame outfielders, and of course, so was the Yankee Clipper.
  
• In 1936, Hannah was a playecoach for the Los Angeles Angels. Ted Williams, already a legendary hitter (and pitcher) from his exploits at Herbert Hoover High School in San Diego, was being courted by both major and minor league teams. Ted's father, Sam Williams, was acting as his agent, and he arranged a meeting with Truck Hannah to talk about a contract with the Angels. "When my dad went down to talk to him, Hannah said, 'Where's the kid?'" Williams later recalled. "Dad says, 'He's not here.' Hannah said, 'Well, for crying out loud, go get him. He's the one I want to talk to, not you!'" Insulted, Sam Williams walked away. Instead, Williams -- after turning down offers from the Yankees and the Cardinals -- signed with the newly formed San Diego Padres of the Pacific Coast League. Had he signed with the Angels, Williams likely would have been a Cub, as they were a Chicago affiliate. (But Williams, a San Diego native, likely would have signed with the Padres even if Hannah had made a better impression.)
  
• Hannah's mouth almost cost his team another teenaged prospect. In 1934, 16-year-old Steve Mesner went to an open try-out for the Los Angeles Angels, and Hannah was helping to evaluate the prospects. He took one look at Mesner and shouted, "Get out of here, kid! You're too little!" Mesner started walking off the field, but someone told him to go back. During batting practice, he hit three balls over the fence! During a fielding drill, he was handling every chance, and the coach kept hitting them harder and harder, expecting the teenager to boot one. He didn't, and the team gave him a contract. Mesner hit .328 in three years with the Angels before going to the Chicago Cubs and later the Cincinnati Reds.
  
• The winter of 1918-1919 was gripped by the "Spanish Flu" epidemic and, in a scene that would be familiar to all of us today, the players, umpires, and fans in a Southern California winter league wore face masks during the game. A photo ran in the newspaper with the catcher misidentified in the caption as "Trash" Hannah of the New York Yankees!
  
• Hannah is a member of the Pacific Coast League Hall of Fame. Some sources say he was an inaugural member when it was created in 1943; other sources say he was inducted in 1950. Other notable Yankees in the PCL HoF include Frankie Crosetti, Joe DiMaggio, and Casey Stengel.
  
• Hannah's daughter, U.S. Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant Helen Hannah Campbell, went to Whittier High School with Richard Nixon, and later served as a docent the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace in Yorba Linda, California. Richard Nixon, who grew up watching Hannah as a player and manager in the Pacific Coast League, said in a 1983 interview: "I remember Truck Hannah. He was a great catcher and could hit."
  
• In 1925, Hannah helped organize the Association of Professional Ball Players of America, created to assist former professional baseball players who are injured, elderly, or destitute. The APBPA is still in existence today!
  

Near the end of his career, Truck Hannah was interviewed about the rigors of being a catcher. He said during his 30 years in baseball he'd broken every finger on his right hand at least twice. "What the hell, it's all part of the game," he said. "It sure was fun while it lasted. Even with busted hands and fingers and everything else, I wouldn't have missed it for the world."