I’m here

Yesterday (Saturday, August 18, 2012) was the first time I attended the annual RTS Alumni Picnic without my wife, who died April 17, 2012.
I took along our dog Scarlett (as in “Scarlett O’Hara”), a rescue Irish-Setter.
A “rescue Irish Setter” is an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; for example abusive or a puppy-mill (Scarlett was from a failed backyard breeder). By getting a rescue-dog, I avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Scarlett isn't bad.
Our first Alumni Picnic was in a slightly different location, although in the same park, Ellison Park, east of Rochester (NY).
The last couple picnics, including yesterday, were in the same location, different from our first attendance: now in Hazelwood Lodge, a semi-enclosed shelter.
The so-called “Alumni” are the union retirees of Regional Transit Service in Rochester, NY.
For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS = “Transit”), a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs.
While a bus-driver there I belonged to the Rochester Division of the Amalgamated Transit Union (ATU), Local 282. ATU is nationwide.
The Alumni was a reaction to the fact Transit upper-management retirees ran roughshod over union retirees — a continuation of the bad vibes at Transit, management versus union.
Transit had a club for long-time employees, and I was in it. It was called the “15/25-year Club;” I guess at first the “25-year Club.” But they lowered the employment requirement, and renamed it “15/25-year Club.” The employment requirement was lowered even more; I joined at 10 years.
My employ there ended in 1993 with my stroke (disability retirement); and the “Alumni” didn’t exist then.
The Alumni is a special club — you have to join.
It’s an Amalgamated Transit Union functionary. It isn’t just a social club.
It has bylaws, officers, and an Executive Board.
In many ways it’s just like our union-local, except it entertains issues of interest to retirees; like Medicare, healthcare, and diabetes and Alzheimer’s.
Together my wife and I would wander off, and walk the dog around the park. Ellison has many trails, and is a large park.
I did the same yesterday, although it was just me and the dog.
Walking around the park seemed strange without my wife.
Irondequoit (“ear-RON-de-kwoit”) Creek flows through the park, which is a large defile.
The dog frequented the creek a few times to get a drink.
My wife would worry about this, but the creek flows slowly. We’d often see canoes.
There also is keeping our dog away from other dogs; she can be nasty.
Ellison has a fenced dog-park, but it’s tiny, and you have to register and pay to use it.
We avoided it, so the dog had to be on a leash.
Which she always is.
That dog-park is too small for our dog to enjoy.
Better to avoid that dog-park and its possible recriminations.
That defile used to be the outlet for the Genesee (“jen-uh-SEE”) River into Lake Ontario.
But detritus from the last glacier blocked it.
I force myself to attend these shindigs despite my grief, in fact partly because of it.
It’s a distraction.
And of course the dog loves it. “Yippee! A park! Woods! Critters! A feast for her nose.
A friend took the dog so I could eat.
I also asked this friend to shield me, but that wasn’t needed.
What I usually said concerning my wife’s death was “I’m here.”

• My beloved wife of 44 years died of cancer April 17, 2012. She was 68. I miss her dearly.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered.
• The “Genesee River” is a fairly large river that runs south-to-north across western New York, runs through Rochester, including over falls, and empties into Lake Ontario.