#Garage door service New York
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Elevators are deadly traps
Wandanat x reader
Plot: You and your girlfriends get trapped in the elevator but the heat makes you faint and Wanda is not the biggest fan of small, enclosed spaces.
TW: fainting, panic attack
You never believed that drinking water was so necessary; you were never a big drinker and although Wanda always told you, nay, begged you, to drink at least the necessary amount you never listened to her but maybe you should have today.
You watch the busy streets of New York, listening to Natasha and Wanda talk while your eyes don't leave for a moment the view that lurks outside the window of the expensive car that only the black widow, of the three of you, dares to drive; you've never even been a great driver...Let alone drive a car that costs two hundred thousand dollars in the busiest city in the world.
The 93 F makes the asphalt scorching, much more than usual; it is so hot that the air ripples from the heat, distorting the images that pass before your eyes.
Natasha turns right and the Avengers tower enters your view, towering over all the buildings around it. It is not the most beautiful building in New York, contrary to what Tony likes to think, but it is definitely the one that makes you feel the safest.
“Is everything okay malyshka?” Natasha looks at you from the mirror, raising her sunglasses for a few seconds to get a better look at you.
“Yes Nat.”
You lean forward, ending up between the two seats and leaving a kiss on the cheek first to the former spy and then to the Sokovian who turns around at the exact moment you turn toward her to receive a real kiss.
“Hey, that's not fair. Next time one of you will drive.”
Natasha moans, giving you a weak elbow in the side that makes you and Wanda pull away.
“Oh come on Nat, you'll be rewarded” Wanda smiles mischievously, letting her hand slide down the blonde's thigh.
You sit back down, giving them an amused look but as you do so, dizziness makes you close your eyes for a few seconds. Apparently the heat has affected you more than you thought since you've risen just a couple of inches.
“Detka?”
Wanda turns to you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she is wont to do when the Sokovian is angry or worried.
“Yes?”
You open your eyes, smiling as if the nausea isn't wearing you down and the dizziness isn't making you sway even while sitting up.
“Are you okay?”
The car stops, you have probably entered the tower garage but you are so focused on not letting her notice that you are sick that you are not completely sure.
“Yes, of course, why?”
Wanda looks at you as if the answer is obvious but before she has a chance to retort, the driver's side door is thrown open by a rather pissed off Iron Man.
“Natasha, I've told you a million times not to take this car, it costs a fortune.”
“I know, Stark, but I remind you that I always told you I'd keep taking it since you bought it. Although I must admit, I'd like to find the keys in the car already and not have to bypass your office's fallacious security system to get them.”
Natasha smiles, stepping out of the car and tossing the keys toward the multimillionaire; the man rolls his eyes, stuffing the keys in his pocket before walking away at a brisk pace, muttering something about “having to implement anti-widow security systems.”
“You're terrible Nat, you'll drive him crazy.”
You say with a smirk, opening the door in turn; you just sit there, still not trusting your body to keep you stable.
Wanda comes around the car and quickly joins you.
Although you are inside the garage, the temperature is just below that outside and certainly much higher than it was inside the car.
“Are you sure you're okay y/n? You're a little pale” Natasha places a hand on your right cheek and you lean into her touch, turning a reassuring smile to her.
“I'm fine Nat, let's go home. If I'm not mistaken, someone needs to be compensated for her chauffeuring services.”
Your joke seems to make her relax a little, and that gives you the confidence to finally put one foot on the ground. You get up and despite the dizziness that hits you as soon as you do, you manage to hide it masterfully, heading toward the elevator with your girls. Although it is only a few meters, when you enter inside it feels like you have traveled at least twenty kilometers.
“J.A.R.V.I.S. take us to the forty-seventh floor please.”
“Right away Ms. Romanoff.”
As soon as the elevator doors close, you lean against the handrail placed on the wall behind you praying that your condition will not worsen. You observe Wanda out of the corner of your eye; the Sokovian hates elevators but is well aware that she cannot climb forty-seven flights of stairs therefore, after an animated conversation about why she could not use her powers to do so, you had convinced her to use that “infernal contraption”-as she likes to call it-to reach your floor.
A loud roar diverts your attention away from the girl, and before you can figure out what's going on, the elevator suddenly stops; if it weren't for Natasha's lightning-fast reflexes, your face would surely be splattered on the floor or the metal wall in front of you, considering the gigantic size of the elevator. Big Tower big elevator, as Tony likes to say.
“Are you all right?”
Natasha watches you both, helps you to your feet and then draws Wanda into a hug.
“Honey, it's okay, the elevator will probably start working again in a few seconds.”
Wanda nods and does not even give you a glance; she is totally focused on not panicking completely. She hates elevators and now she is hating you too since you forced her into them.
Ten minutes pass and you are still stuck inside the elevator. The temperature, which was previously kept under control by the air conditioning, has risen considerably and the dizziness is only getting worse so, although you are the only one, you decide to sit down in the hope that this will help.
The former spy's phone that suddenly and, when Natasha answers, Tony's voice rings out in the metal box you are stuck in.
“Hey Nat, there you see, there's a little problem, I may have knocked out the power to like well...all of Manhattan so you're going to be there for a while but I'm working on it okay? All right, see you later.”
Natasha is not in time to insult him that Tony ends the call. Natasha mumbles something in Russian and although you know few words of her native tongue, you are pretty sure they are not compliments she is paying him.
Wanda's hand is clasped between yours and you speak words of comfort to her as sweat beads your foreheads. You and Natasha take turns, trying to keep her breathing under control; the Sokovian has had panic attacks before and the last thing you need is for her to have one right now.
“Because I let you talk me into it,” Wanda whines, squeezing your hand before standing up abruptly, starting to pace back and forth in the elevator as her breathing quickens.
“Wanda, love, it will be okay, I know you hate elevators but-”
Natasha gets up to join her and you do the same but realize the shit you've done too late; in fact, it takes less than ten seconds for your body to fall to the floor with a thud.
“Y/N!”
Both Natasha and Wanda scream in shock.
“Honey, open your eyes malyshka come on.”
Natasha falls to her knees beside you, placing your head on top of her legs and shaking your sweat-soaked hair from your forehead.
“D-detka open your eyes.”
Wanda caresses your cheeks and although she is still in a panic, she makes an effort to keep herself lucid for at least a few more seconds.
You blink a few times, and when you open your eyes, the metal of the ceiling reminds you where you are.
“Hey, take it easy, Wands do you have any water?”
Natasha whispers, continuing to caress your face as Wanda frantically searches through her bag before shaking her head. Her breathing is quickening again and she is far too quiet to be Wanda.
“I'm fine,” you whisper and then give the blonde a look that admits no reply as you wave her over to your girlfriend.
“You're not fine, you just fainted, you're probably dehydrated, and we're going to be stuck here for who knows how much longer.”
Natasha regrets what she said as soon as she hears a whimper coming from the sokovian before the latter falls to the floor, burying her head between her knees as you clearly hear her breathing shorten alarmingly. Natasha quickly removes her shirt and rests it under your head before moving toward Wanda.
“Don't try to get up y/n, just stand there, I got this.”
You watch her walk over to the sorceress and gently touch her arm.
“Wands, hey, it's me. You have to breathe love, I know it's hard but you have to do it.”
Natasha strokes her back and Wanda's breathing seems to calm slightly as she lifts her head to look at you.
“There you are, good girl, now follow my breathing. In and out, in and out. So good.”
As Natasha focuses on Wanda, you quickly assess your condition before sitting up and trudging toward them.
“I told you not to get up.”
“I'm sitting up and feeling better Nat.”
You whisper, holding Wanda tightly in a hug and letting her listen to your heart beat at a steady pace.
“You are so stubborn, you-”
Another roar brings her to a halt and then, to your relief, the elevator starts up again. In two minutes, the elevator arrives on your floor and when the doors open, Natasha gives you a worried look-Wanda is massaging her chest while you are still sitting on the floor with a complexion so pale as to make the dead envious.
“Wands, do you feel up to walking?”
The Sokovian nods but Natasha equally encircles her hips with her arm before ushering her toward your bedroom but not before issuing you a warning.
“Don't try to move, don't even think about it.”
You watch them walk to the end of the hallway and extend your leg to block the elevator door sensor. As soon as you see them disappear from your sight, you close your eyes and lean your head against the wall behind you, trying to counteract the dizziness and nausea.
After a few minutes you hear hurried footsteps and then a glass is pressed to your lips.
“Drink malyshka,” Natasha whispers, tilting the glass and helping you drink the water inside. When you finish it, Natasha sets the glass on the floor before taking your face in her hands; you stay like this for a few minutes before she speaks.
“Can you get up?”
You nod to her, and after a few seconds, the Russian encircles your sides with her arms and lifts you off the floor, checking you during every step you take to your bedroom.
“How about I call Bruce? At least he'll take a look at you...”
You shake your head and in doing so lean even more against Natasha.
“No, I'm fine Nat. I just drank a little water, that's all.”
Natasha sighs yet does not retort, helping you sit down next to Wanda.
Although you are still lightheaded and dizzy, your stomach twists as you see how much Wanda is still shaken by what has happened.
“Hey love, how are you feeling?”
You reach out to her, taking her hand and intertwining your fingers. Wanda turns to you as soon as she hears your voice and hides her head in the crook of your neck; you leave a few kisses in her hair before the Sokovian speaks.
“I'm fine, I'm sorry for-”
“No, hey, you don't have to apologize, you know it's not something we control. Neither Tasha nor I do, did you ever tell us to apologize for that?”
Wanda shakes her head and both you and Natasha nod.
“That's right honey, so never apologize for that okay?”
Natasha sits on Wanda's other side as Wanda pulls away from you and lies down on the bed, motioning for you to get on her side. You are about to do so but a sharp dizziness causes you to desist and swing dangerously to the side; Wanda's grip on your shirt prevents a disastrous fall.
“Hey y/n, hey!...Nat, did you give her sugar?”
Wanda sits up to support you better as she watches Natasha shake her head.
“No, I...I just gave her water, now I'm going to get it.”
You want to protest but you can't, you can't even keep your eyes open.
“Detka, honey drink this. It will help you.”
Natasha hands Wanda the glass with water and sugar and the Sokovian places it on your lips helping you drink every last sip; after a few minutes the sugar finally takes effect.
“Do you feel better?”
Wanda whispers, drawing small circles on your back as you open your eyes. You nod slowly, resting your head on Natasha's shoulder and turning a small smile to the Sokovian.
“I really think we should all get some rest, and we'll call Bruce later.”
Natasha leaves a kiss on your temple, giving you a look that clearly indicates how much you cannot retort at the moment. From the look on Wanda's face, she agrees too so you surrender to your girls, letting them tuck you in before hugging you on both sides.
“Rest, I love you,” Natasha lets you both have a kiss before lying down and closing your eyes. You reciprocate her “I love you” before following suit.
You three may be a mess but you are definitely a good trio.
Thank you for reading! This piece sucks but I wanted to write something and will probably delete it later anyway...thanks and have a great day!
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Home Sweet Home (AU Brock Rumlow/Original Female Character) 18+ Chapter One
WORDCOUNT: 6267
TRIGGERS: Age Gap, 911 Call, Police
CHAPTER ONE - SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS!
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The blistering Texas sun beamed down on the pavement, smothering downtown Mansfield in an oppressive heat wave. The cloudless sky stretched on in an expanse of clear blue, offering no respite from the sweltering 93°F temperature. The only escapes from the relentless rays were the shady trees in the parks or the cool relief of air conditioning indoors.
As Calleigh locks the office door, she feels the heat radiating in from outside. Having worked in her dad's delivery business for a little over three months now, she easily navigates the building, double-checking that everything is secured for the weekend. Approaching the exit, the intense heat worsens. Calleigh lifts her shirt, revealing a cute pink butterfly piercing on her belly button - a small act of rebellion she got after her first visit with her dad following her mom's move to New York with a new boyfriend. Pushing aside thoughts of New York and the boyfriend she detests, Calleigh fans her exposed stomach with her shirt in a futile attempt to withstand the heat on her way out, silently thanking the universe for Fridays and weekends.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Brock backs his day-old black Chevrolet Silverado 1500 as close to the garage door as possible. Searching for the key to turn off the engine, he suddenly remembers this truck has a keyless start/stop system—all he has to do is push a button. Brock chuckles a bit of his lack of knowledge about his new car, before he makes a mental note to get used to the new feature.
Though the car met all his needs, Brock struggled to adjust to its high-tech features. While he wanted to embrace the smart house, smart phone, smart car lifestyle, at heart he was old-fashioned. To Brock, a car should just be a car, and a phone just a phone. These days, cars were becoming more like living spaces, packed with extra gadgets and gizmos; and those new phones were multipurpose devices that served not only as phones, but also as calendars, alarm clocks, cameras, journals, and computers. He almost felt that he was too old to keep up, with his 46 years, Brock started to feel that his youth had passed him by long ago.
Placing his toned muscular forearm on the center console; Brock looks over the dashboard. The car's built-in entertainment system was bigger than his nephew's tablet. The right side of the screen informed him that the temperature was a scorching 94°F and climbing; moving over to the left side, where he could decide on what radio station to listen to, operate the car's cameras, use the built-in GPS system, connect his phone via Bluetooth and a bunch of other stuff he'd probably never use.
A quick glance at the clock told him that he had to get to work. He had promised Jack ages ago that he would fix the Oil leak, change the filter, the camshaft belt and do an overall service on the car. But the parts he needed weren't always easy to come by. So here he was, grabbing his mechanic's creeper off his truck, to finally do the job; four months behind schedule.
Brock swings open the garage door, revealing the stunning 1967 Chevy Impala. The sleek black exterior gleams in the sunlight, resembling a rare diamond. Despite its age and need for repairs, the Impala exudes charm, blending masculinity and nostalgic charm. Like Brock, Jack shares a fondness for vintage cars, true American muscle cars such as this. The old cassette player still hums within, and Jack hasn't altered a single detail on the car. There's a palpable sense of trust between them as Brock cherishes the responsibility and level of trust Jack has placed in his hands.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh frowned at her license photo. At only 20 years old, she had not yet grown comfortable with her appearance. She felt her nasal bone was too thick, making her eyes seem too far apart. Makeup helped camouflage this to some extent, but no amount of makeup could alter her height. At 5'10", she was taller than average, which made finding flattering clothes a challenge. She often wished she had her mother's petite 5'3" frame, having clearly inherited her stature from the Rollins side of the family. While she could live with her blonde hair, she wished it had more volume. Her lips were too pale and thin for her liking, though makeup could fix that as well. Unlike her mother's ocean blue eyes, Calleigh had green eyes, another Rollins family trait. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Calleigh took stock of herself - blonde hair, blonder in summer; green eyes; lightly pinked lips with distinctive dips cupping her nose; a high forehead. She was a harmonious blend of both parents.
Calleigh connects her phone to the car's entertainment system, the little screen in the middle of the dashboard makes it easy to navigate through spotify to find her song, Coldplay and The Chainsmokers with Something Just Like This. It’s a song that seems fitting for her life right now.
Ever since she moved back to Texas, and Mansfield, she felt like her whole life was already planned for her.
She would get a seat at the board of directors alongside her dad and her grandfather in the delivery business on her 21st birthday in December. It would give her a comfortable and financially steady life, but very few choices.
With an exasperated sigh, Calleigh places her purse in the passenger seat. The black leather seat had small stitched details, a lighter shade of burnt orange in color, along the sides, giving it a more luxurious look.
When her dad had offered to buy her a new car, Calleigh had opted for the Mini Cooper, a car she felt was more suitable for her needs. But Jack had his mind made up on a 2020 Chevrolet Impala, black of course, to have it blend in with the other cars in the garage. After a bit of discussing back and forth, Calleigh had just given up. A car was a car, and she needed one. Although she would have given almost anything to have a convertible right now.
She was thankful for the car, it was nice and spacious with its four doors and five seats, it had room enough for both Calleigh and her friends.
The trunk suited all of her needs with enough room for both grocery shopping and a shopping spree at the local mall. The black leather seats with the burnt orange stitching offered comfort with their user friendly adjustment mechanism. The center console, designed with faux wood, held a spacious storage compartment and a double cup holder, one of which now held the almost empty Venti iced caramel latte that Calleigh got from Starbucks this morning.
The comfortable, highly equipped steering wheel made it easy to answer the phone, change songs, adjust the volume, as well as the heat in the winter. The 2020 Chevy Impala did indeed deliver a luxurious and comfortable driving experience.
She grew up in a well off family, both of her parents came from money. Both the Rollins Delivery Service and the Lewis Jewelry line had been around for generations, earning themselves a good reputation and money to live a more than comfortable life. Despite all of this, Calleigh had never seen herself as spoiled. She knew nothing came for free, that she had to work hard in school, and she had to earn her allowance. Her parents, even if they were never together, had made sure of that.
The drive from downtown Mansfield to South Pointe was roughly 10 to 15 minutes long, depending on traffic. But in this heat, Calleigh feels that it took two hours. Her shirt is sticking to her back, and her throat screams for water to the point where she's about to chug the last of the latte that had been sitting in her car all day. All she wanted was to change into a bikini and spend the rest of the weekend relaxing by the pool in the backyard.
Despite having to spend the weekend alone; without her two best friends. Jessica was preparing for her undergraduate degree, and Molly had been assigned to take a HR Masterclass in Seattle. Her dad was away as well, having a tiny legal crisis in Chicago, he had decided to fly over there himself, to oversee the negotiations. Calleigh looked forward to a weekend by the pool.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
As Calleigh approaches the house, she notices the black Pickup truck that's backed all the way into the now open garage door. Not a truck she recognizes, and they rarely had any other unannounced visitors other than her grandparents or Brock from time to time. But Brock was on a work spree these days. Calleigh hadn’t even seen him since she moved back home; which was strange, because in summertime he practically lived in the garage. Fixing her dad’s various vehicles, as well as his own; whilst sharing some beers with her dad. It was almost so that she thought that they had fallen out. But the legal crisis in Chicago had occupied her dad for quite some time, so that might be it. The two men simply didn't have time for social get-togethers these days. Even Friday Night BBQ was put on hold for the time being.
The Friday Night BBQ was one of Calleigh's most cherished traditions. Her dad and Brock manned the grill while she and her friends frolicked in the pool or yard. As they aged, they took on more duties. Molly routinely brought her signature focaccia and salad— a recipe Calleigh unsuccessfully tried recreating time and time again. Jess handled dessert; her Texas-style peach cobbler was unrivaled, the moist and buttery delight created a sweet symphony on her pallads, and topped with a scoop of peach ice cream, it became unresistable no matter how much anyone had for dinner. Occasionally Molly's mom and Jess's parents joined, packing the expansious backyard with joy, nostalgia, and hearty laughter.
With the memories of time well spent, playing like a movie in her head, Calleigh drives past the house at 2 mph as she examines the truck that's parked in front of the garage. A black Silverado, newer model. Having grown up with a father like Jack, with his fondness for cars, she's picked up a thing or ten. Of course it also helped that she spent numerous afternoons at the Rumlow garage in her early teens, when her dad worked late, or her mom spent time with that new boyfriend.
Calleigh's body goes cold when she remembers the 67 Impala in the garage. Jack's favorite car. He spent years finding the perfect one. If someone is trying to steal it, or parts from it; Jack would go ballistic. And given his military background, it'll not be pretty. For a second Calleigh feels like a six-year old, not knowing what to tell her parents when she broke a glass or spilled water on her bed.
Though South Pointe was a gated community, there were no guards on site. To enter, you needed either a code from a resident or a chip that automatically opened the gate. With the recent expansions and the constant flow of workers going in and out, it was easy for anyone to get in, whether they belonged there or not. And with a truck like the new Silverado, you could easily drive in, fill the spacious bed with whatever you were stealing; and then drive back out, without anyone raising a brow.
Calleigh takes a deep breath, weighing her options. Should she call the police or confront the person in the garage herself? Having spent four years in New York, she knows how to handle situations and always keeps pepper spray in her purse, even in Mansfield, where crime rates are lower. Despite the safer environment, she's aware that appearances can be deceiving, and anyone could pose a threat.
Turning her car at the end of the street, Calleigh retrieves her phone from her purse, its cute pink cover with butterflies and faux diamonds contrasting with the ominous atmosphere she envisions in the garage. Without overthinking, she dials 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a calm female voice responds after a few rings.
“I'm.…I think someone is breaking into my house,” Calleigh says, suddenly unsure if 9-1-1 was the right choice.
“Are you in the house, ma’am?” The voice persists. Calleigh hesitates, considering whether to hang up and face the intruder alone. “Ma’am, are you inside the house?” the voice repeats.
“N..no. I.. I'm outside.. In my car. I don't know what to do. I… I..” Calleigh is desperate, on the verge of crying. She can't remember the last time she didn't want to be home alone. But this is one of those times.
“What's your name ma'am?” The voice continues, still in that calm tone.
Calleigh takes a breath “Calleigh Lewis Rollins.” She replies, with a shaky breath. Trying to calm down her beating heart.
“Do you know if they're armed?” The woman on the phone continues. Calleigh feels that ice cold feeling in her stomach. Armed? She didn't think about that at all. What if they're armed, what does she do then?
“I don't know. I don't know!” She shakily replies. Her voice on the verge of breaking. Without realizing that she does, she reaches for her pepper spray. The little 3 inch pink container designed as a keychain was easy to carry around, easy to use and it had a neutral design, which made it perfect to carry around for self defense.
“Calleigh, calm down. You're going to be fine. I'll dispatch a unit to your location. What's your address?” The voice continues in a calm soothing manner, which helps to calm Calleigh down.
“2837 Chandler Court” Calleigh replies, happy that she remembered the address. She hasn't lived here too long, and in this particular situation it's things like that that usually slips.
“Do you have any firearms in the house?” Another question about guns. It's not that Calleigh wasn't used to them, it was just that in this situation, guns didn't feel like a safe topic. And this is Texas, everyone has firearms.
“Y..Yeah, we have some. Seven or ten maybe.” Calleigh replies as she does a mental runthrough of the house, trying to remember where Jack keeps all his guns. The gun cabinet in the living room, the hide away cabinet in his bedroom, and the safe in the….. garage. Calleigh takes another shaky breath as she imagines some bad ass crocks breaking into that safe.
“I've dispatched a unit to your location. They'll be there in about ten minutes. And Calleigh, please lock the doors, and stay in the car until the unit arrives.” The voice on the phone informs her, still calm and collected. Calleigh can't believe how they manage to be this calm with people in shock, pain, rage, people who're scared out of their minds. But now, today, she's extremely thankful for it.
Clenching the container with pepper spray in her hand, Calleigh almost whispers into the phone “Yes. Thank you.”
“Calleigh, please stay in the car.” The lady on the phone says again. But Calleigh can hardly hear it. She flips the top of the container in her hand, as she hangs up the phone, and slowly exits the car.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
With half an eye on the wrench around the unwilling screw, and half an eye on the bucket for the oil, Brock tries to get the screw to give. His left foot firmly planted on the concrete garage floor to steady himself, as he struggles to get the screw loose. His biceps flexing, the veins on his arm popping. His teeth clenched in concentration, and the sweat dripped from his forehead.
Brock applies just a bit more muscle power, determined to get the screw to give. The sweat on his hands makes him lose his grip around the wrench. His hand flies up, hitting the car, as the wrench falls to the floor, creating an echo around the oversized garage. “Aaaa, fuck,” he almost screams, as he shakes his hand to try to ease the pain.
The sound of metal hitting concrete, the echo that follows and the screaming make Calleigh jump. Her heart is beating out of her chest, and that ice cold feeling in her stomach comes back. Yes, the 9-1-1 dispatcher told her to lock the doors and stay in the car. But ten minutes? They should know how much damage that can be done within ten minutes. She had to leave the car. But with the screaming and the noise. Maybe she should've stayed put. Anyway, it's too late for that now.
Calleigh places her thumb on the top of the pepper spray container. “Stop what you're doing I have a weapon!” She yells, surprised by how firm her voice is, she lifts the container, ready to attack.
Brock jumps under the car from the voice yelling, something about a weapon. Startled, he tries to sit up, but since he's under the car, sitting up only serves for him to bang his head against the car. “Fuck! Shit! Don't shoot, I'm unarmed!” He yells back in a haste. Quickly moving the creeper, so he can stand up.
Getting up faster than he's ever done before, raising his arms to show whoever it is that he is indeed unarmed. “Don't shoot! I'm un-,” when he sees Calleigh he stops for a second “armed….” He breathes out in surprise at the woman standing before him. Beautiful. That's the only thing he can say about her; Silently in his mind of course.
Calleigh carefully drinks in the man in front of her. His well-worn jeans sit comfortably on his hips, a cloth tucked into the right side. His V-shaped lower abdomen is unlike anything she's seen before, leading up to a six-pack and impressive pecs that could be straight out of a commercial. The oil stains and sweat on his upper body add a sexy touch. Moving upward, she notices strong pecs lightly dusted with chest hair. As she lifts her face, broad-toned shoulders barely register in her mind compared to the veiny upper arms that make her knees feel weak. Before fully revealing the rest, she takes a breath and discovers a strong jawline, dark facial hair, followed by soft, playful, and kissable lips, a broad nose perfectly placed on his flawless face. As her gaze reaches further, she encounters two soft hazel brown eyes adorned with dark lashes and brows. Calleigh's heart skips a beat, and in surprise, she breathes out, "Brock?”
Brock had never seen such beauty and grace. Calleigh had blossomed into a stunning woman, with shoulder-length blonde locks with a few curls framing her face. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted in surprise, complementing her petite nose and accentuating the delicate curves of her upper lip. Her emerald eyes shone like gemstones, undoubtedly a Rollins family trait.
Brock swallows, his heart does a jump in his chest. “Calleigh?” His voice carried a bit of surprise. He remembered Calleigh as a rebellious 16-year old, getting belly-button piercings without permission. He did not expect this God sent beauty. And he's not sure how he should react. This is Jack's daughter. He shouldn't feel his heart jump like this because of her.
Jesus Christ, Calleigh thinks for herself. Did she just think about Brock's lips as kissable? Brock Rumlow? Her dad's best friend. Naha, no way. Take it back, take it back, take it back; she repeats the three words again and again in her head, like a mantra. It's all in vain, when Brock's lips slowly curl up into a half smile. His upper lip on the left side curls up, revealing his teeth. Calleigh feels drawn to it. It's like magnetism, an invisible force that's dragging her towards him. She swallows in a desperate attempt to keep her heart out of her throat. It's Brock, Calleigh! He's over 40 years old, and your dad's best friend; the voice in her head screams to her at this point.
"What errr..." Brock takes the cloth from his jeans and wipes his hands on it before continuing. "What are you doing here?" he questions, his eyes traveling over her. Her short-sleeved white shirt reveals the small dips by her collarbone, and Brock's fingers twitch as his mind imagines gliding his fingertips over them. He knows he shouldn't feel this way. Why does he feel this way? Further down the shirt lays tight over her breasts, Brock swallows from the sight of them. Jesus, get it together, Brock; he silently curses at himself.
“I live here.” Calleigh replies, before he can take in the rest of her. She rubs her hand on her neck. The garage offers shade and a living temperature, but she can still feel the heat from outside. And looking at Brock all sweaty and sexy isn't helping at all. “What are you doing here?” She continues, she knows that's a stupid question. He was on his creeper, under the car when she came in, and the oil stains are also a big giveaway.
“I'm fixing your Dad’s car,” Brock answers her question with a little smile, and a tap on the hood of the Impala. “How's that neighborhood watch thing going for ya?” He adds with a little chuckle.
“Huh?” Calleigh feels like she just fell out of the sky. And she imagines that it must look that way too.
Brock gestures with his head to the container in her right hand, and Calleigh looks down to see her thumb still firmly placed on the top of it. Quickly putting the cap back on, she puts her hand behind her back. “It's nothing. It's just…” she tries, but the damage is already done. The only thing she can hope for now, is that Brock won't tell Jack about it.
“For protection?” Brock asks, as he wipes his abs with the cloth. When Calleigh doesn't answer, he continues. “New York taught you a few things huh?” He delivers the question with an understanding head tilt.
Calleigh takes a breath “Yeah I guess you could say—“ she’s interrupted by sirens approaching.
Brock lets out a little laugh “You called the cops on me.” It's more of a statement than a question. Calleigh feels a rush of embarrassment, as Brock lets out another friendly laugh.
“Not so much on you.. I..” Calleigh starts, moving her legs nervously. “I.. I thought you were someone else,” she tries, but without any kind of words to complete that sentence.
“Well, guess I can only hope that they won't arrest me,” Brock continues to chuckle, as he swings the cloth over his left shoulder, and walks outside to face the police.
Calleigh stays behind for a second or two before she shakes her head and lets out an exasperating breath. This is too embarrassing. Did she really call the cops on Brock? Jesus, she's never going to hear the end of this. This'll be one of those stories that'll be mentioned in a speech at her wedding. She can just hear it in her head ‘And you can feel totally safe, Calleigh will protect her terf whatever the cost. I remember…’ Shaking her head again, she walks outside as well.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Not one, not two, but three units showed up. Thank you so much brain, for mentioning all the firearms in the house. Calleigh thinks to herself. Thankfully the misunderstanding was easy to clear up. Two of the officers knew Brock, which was understandable since Brock owned the only garage around that was certified to work on the police vehicles. And of course it helped that both the Lewis and the Rollins name was well known around these parts.
Just as the officers are leaving, Calleigh spots Mrs. Callahan across the street, coming out of her house with her walker. Mrs. Callahan was this tiny 4’9" little old lady, with long gray frizzy hair, she always wore white compression socks, a skirt with flower patterns on, a white shirt, a home knitted cardigan and brown slippers, she had lived across the street since forever. She was a really nice old lady, but she put her nose into absolutely everything.
“Miss Calleigh.” She yells across the street, with what little voice she has left. “Miss Calleigh, is everything alright?” She continues, as she walks across the street towards them.
“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan, everything is fine. Don’t worry.” Calleigh smiles at the old lady.
“I saw the police. Are you sure everything is alright? How's your father? Jack is such a sweetheart, don't you think?” Mrs. Callahan continues to talk. The thing with Mrs. Callahan was that after her husband passed away a few years ago, she had become very chatty. And if she started, there was almost no way of stopping her.
“Everything is perfectly fine Mrs. Callahan. It was just a misunderstanding” Brock shoots in, sending Calleigh an amused look when he says misunderstanding. “I can assure you that you can sleep safely.” He continues, giving the old lady a protective smile.
“O..Okay” Mrs. Callahan nods to Brock. Then she stops. “Would you be so kind as to walk an old lady back home, Brock?” She continues with her distinct old lady voice.
Brock sends Calleigh a small smile, before he offers his arm to Mrs. Callahan. When they start the short walk over the street, Calleigh can hear her say ‘Such a sweetheart, such a sweetheart’ over and over again. Calleigh can't help but smile. Both from the old lady calling Brock a sweetheart, and from the fact that Brock seriously makes her heart jump, and her stomach swoop. Both of which are feelings she's never had before.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh has just finished maneuvering her car into the garage when Brock returns. Still wearing nothing but his well worn work jeans, with oil stains and rips on them. And then that body. Calleigh swallows hard to not let out any type of sound that can give away how she reacts to this man.
“You want Apple pie?” Brock asks, holding up two Apple pies, one in each hand. “Because I have two of them,” he continues, looking from Calleigh to the pies, and then back to Calleigh again.
Mrs. Callahan might be nosy to the point where Calleigh almost felt uneasy about it. But the old lady did make the most delicious Apple pies. Sweet, zesty and sugary. With the most amazing Granny Smith apples, cooked until perfection, with that sweet taste of cinnamon, a pinch of nutmeg and sugar. Calleigh remembers them from the block parties when she was a little girl. Finishing up her dinner as fast as possible, to make sure she could grab a slice before they were all gone. Her mouth still goes watery when she thinks about it.
“She gave you two?” Calleigh laughs. Smiling wide. Partly for the thought of eating Mrs. Callahan's Apple pies again and partly from the thought that she might sit down with Brock and eat them. Why is that thought so prominent? It's not like Brock hasn't had dinner or food in general in this house before. She practically grew up with him around.
“Two isn't enough?” Brock questions, placing the two pies on the roof of Calleigh's car, before he starts to turn around. “Because I'm pretty sure I can get like five more,” he continues as he starts to leave the garage. Brock chides himself. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he suddenly acting like a fuckin' teenager? Playing stupid flirting games, so that Calleigh will try to stop him, touch him. Jesus, Brock. He thinks for himself. Calleigh must think he's insane.
“No, no, no,” Calleigh hastily replies, grabbing Brock's wrist. “Two is –,” she involuntarily stops mid sentence from the sensation of Brock's skin against her palm. “Two is fine.. it's –” she continues, meeting his eyes as she lets go of his wrist. One of Brock's fingertips brushes over her palm, sending waves of shivers up her arm “perfect” she breathes out.
“Alrighty then,” Brock smiles, as he once again takes the pies. “Just heat them on 350, for 15 to 20 minutes, and we'll have ourselves a treat,” he continues as he opens the door that leads from the garage into the house.
Calleigh examines his broad and perfectly toned backside. His jeans fit perfectly over his behind. Calleigh swallows again. Stop it, she once again tells herself. “Maybe have a shower first?” She suggests, before she follows Brock. A shower? Really, Calleigh? She thinks to herself, the thought of naked Brock in the shower makes her want to slap herself. Cold shower it is. A really cold shower.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh locks the door to the downstairs bathroom, before leaning her forehead against the door. Oh,God. Is she stupid? It's frickin Brock for God's sake. What is she thinking? Turning around, she leans her back against the door, as she glances over the bathroom.
The bathroom had undergone a luxurious renovation. The once white walls were now covered in sleek black and gold marble tiles that gave the space a rich feel. The wood-look flooring stretched out, making the room seem spacious. Acoustic panels in complementary black and wood tones lined the ceiling. Gone was the indoor jacuzzi that Calleigh loved as a child, replaced by a double waterfall shower. Concrete shelves anchored the masculine vanity area. Perched atop were two oval basins crafted from natural river stone, marrying masculinity with luxury. A sauna for four to six sat in one corner, unused but admittedly stylish. Though unfamiliar, Calleigh had to concede the new bathroom was rather nice looking.
Stepping away from the door, Calleigh removes her work clothes, tossing them in the laundry basket by the door. Before she steps into the shower, she once again takes a look at herself in the mirror. She looks… What's the word? Young and inexperienced. Small breasts, though still firm and pointing the ‘right’ way, they're still small. Narrow hips. Damnit! Why does she care so much about this all of a sudden? Brock.. Like he would ever want someone like her. “Why do you care, Calleigh?” She says to the mirror, before she enters the shower.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
The guest bathroom upstairs offers every accommodation a guest might need, whether it was a short or a longer stay. The modern design, such as the subway tiles in the shower, the floating shelves for towels and toiletries, the bathtub, with it's spa-like bath pillow, and the shower curtain, resting on a black shower rod, that stretched from one wall to another, mixed with the intricate black and white pattern on the floor tiles it gave the room a contemporary yet nostalgic charm.
Brock leans forward in the shower, leaning his arms against the wall as he lets the water wash over his neck, dripping down over his eyes and nose. He takes a deep breath. He'd almost forgotten that feeling. Aside from the fact that he'd promised himself to never go down that path again, he had to admit that it did feel good. That warm feeling, that was pumped out in his entire body with every heartbeat. That childish need for physical contact. But no. He couldn't do this. Not with her. Not with Calleigh. He's 26 years older than her, old compared to her. Though he was in good physical shape, he was still older than her. A lot older. After he took his therapist's advice to work out more to clear his head, his workout routine had become his safe place. A place where he didn’t have to think about Iraq or Afghanistan or Taylor. Just thinking about her name makes him feel cold. Calleigh, he thinks for himself. Calleigh with the gemstone eyes and perfect lips. Calleigh with the soft skin he felt when his fingers brushed over her palm. Calleigh… Yeah, Calleigh’s better. Calleigh’s definitely better. Fuck, what is he doing?
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh looks between the knee-length tights and the white cotton shorts, weighing her options. The tights that cover more of her body or the comfortable shorts that's more suitable for this weather. God, this is just stupid. And why would Brock care anyway? Why does she care? Since when did what she wore around Brock become an issue? Opting for the shorts, she rolls her eyes at herself and her teenage-like thinking. The shorts fit better with the top anyway, and for some reason it feels important to look good right now.
After meticulously applying her make-up, Calleigh takes a good long look in the mirror. Her white shirt, with the blue and white butterfly pattern on the front sits perfectly on her body, hugging what's supposed to be hugged. Well, more like what's there to actually be hugged. Pouting a bit to her reflection and shaking her head at herself, she turns around checking if everything is in its right place. The straps on her bra are visible due to the shirts open back. After a few unsuccessful attempts trying to fix that issue, Calleigh gives up. Visible straps are better than a bikini anyway. No poolside relaxing today, there's no way she'll be strolling around in a tiny bikini with Brock around.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
The red light that indicates that the oven has reached its wanted temperature turns off, and Calleigh places the two pies into the oven. Thankful that Brock wasn't done upstairs yet. Those feelings she gets when he's around. They're… Calleigh doesn't even have the words to describe them. Sure she's been in love before, or at least smittened. She even had boyfriends, not too many or to long lasting, but still. But the feeling never lasted. And it was never like this. That feeling of her stomach doing gymnastics inside of her. What is that? Looking at the pies warming in the oven. Calleigh tries to make some sense out of all these emotions.
“Wouldn't it be funnier to… I don't know, watch a movie or something?” The voice suddenly talking over Calleigh's head startles her to the point where she hastily stands up. Banging her head into Brock's chin. “Ouch” Brock breathes out as he lets his hand glide over his chin.
“Oh, God,” Calleigh replies. Her expression is a mix of embarrassment and guilt. “I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” She continues, and without realizing that she does she lifts her arm to touch him where they collided. His rugged facial hair tickles her fingers as she carefully let them glide over his chin.
“I gotta say that your self-defense technique is a little unorthodox,” Brock smiles. “But it works, it definitely works,” he continues. The feeling he gets from Calleigh's touch is unlike anything he's ever felt before. A mix of excitement, guilt and that warm feeling spreading throughout his body.
Calleigh can't help but laugh. Brock always used to be funny, kinda like the cool uncle she never had since both her parents were an only child. She can remember millions of times when she was younger. Brock taking her to amusement parks, Brock dressing up as various animals or superheroes for her birthday parties, Brock letting her ride shotgun with him, even though Jack had told him not to. But for some reason the funny he shows her now, that funny feels different.
Suddenly realizing she's still touching him, Calleigh reatracts her hand, covering it with the other hand as she gives Brock an apologetic smile. What's gotten into her? Why does she feel like this around him all of a sudden?
“Is your head alright?” Brock asks, almost instantly regretting his poor choice of words. “From the… err.. bump,” he adds, when he sees the confusion on Calleigh's face. He lifts his hand, and carefully lets it glide over her head.
“Yeah”, Calleigh breathes out as she once again meets Brock's eyes. “I'm…” she continues, as Brock's hand glides down to her neck before stopping on her shoulder. “Good..” Whispering the last word so low that she's not sure Brock even hears it. It's definitely a connection between them. Or is it? Is she fooling herself? And if that's the case, then why?
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
The evening goes on. With Apple pies, ice cream, a movie on TV and a phone call from a worried Jack.
Mrs. Callahan had called him, and told him about the police being at the house. No surprise there. After about 14 failed attempts to call Calleigh, Jack had resolved to call Brock. Overprotective as he was, he was worried out of his mind. Before Brock explained how everything really went down, Jack was like two seconds away from jumping on the first flight back home. But after some discussion back and forth Brock had told him that he'd stay with Calleigh for the duration of Jack's stay in Chicago. For Calleigh, Jack's overprotectiveness in this situation was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing since this meant that she could spend some more time with Brock, and a curse for that exact same reason.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
After getting ready for bed, and before she turns off the lights, Calleigh sends a message in the group chat she shares with Molly and Jess.
‘Call me ASAP. I need to talk.’
No matter if there's a connection there or not, Calleigh needs to talk to someone about this. It's way too heavy to carry by herself. And what better people to talk to, than her two best friends.
Next Chapter ------->
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Are we there yet?
By C.J. Hartman Thompson
(The following article originally appeared in Bluff & Vine, a literary review featuring work created in and around the Finger Lakes region of New York State, and is published here with the permission of the magazine. This article also appeared in three parts in Yates Past, the bi-monthly newsletter of the Yates County History Center).
I vividly recall growing up in the 1960s and ’70s, as if it were yesterday. Two of my younger siblings, our parents, and me, sitting upon red padded chairs, separated as if by seniority around the outskirts of our chrome-legged Formica top table. There, as with most nights before, we conversed over our day’s events, with my mother monitoring our consumption, occasionally reminding us three kids, “Children in China would be grateful to have half the food we had on our plates!” This, a likely response to me chasing nasty whole beets about on my plate with a fork, while my sister pretended she liked the venison steak that she would eventually conceal in her napkin and later place in the trash. My brother, forever innocent, and the youngest at the time, would proclaim that my sister and I were staring at him, knowing full well that it would get us in trouble again.
We were all expected to clean our plates and leave the kitchen spotless or forfeit going for our nightly ride out on Bluff Point. Exiting our home toward the driveway, as if in response to the slam of our screen door, I recall yelling, “I have the middle,” as we piled into our 1972 green Pontiac Catalina in reckless abandon, absent of all regard for the use of seatbelts. None of us wanted to sit behind our father, because when he smoked his pipe, he would periodically empty it against his outside driver’s door handle, sending the ashes back into the rear window. Adorned with his corn-cob pipe, our father preferred a tobacco named Sir Walter Raleigh, which came in a variety of red and black tins. Back then, there wasn’t any consideration given to children purchasing tobacco products, and so I remember biking to either Loblaws or Charles Bollen’s Super Duper to purchase tobacco, filters, or pipe cleaners for Dad. Our dad, having grown up on Pepper Road, could tell you about every nook and cranny on Bluff Point there was to know. My siblings and I never knew where we would end up on these nightly adventures, as we called them.
We would leave our home on the lower West Lake Road, which was behind Race’s Willowhurst Garage. Our grandfather Alton owned and operated the garage after being discharged from the Army, having served in World War II. We would head south to Keuka Park, and on the lake side going toward Keuka Park, Dad and Mom told us that this larger red brick building in Brandy Bay was once the electric generating plant for the Penn Yan, Keuka Park and Branchport Railroad. One of our great-grandfathers, Ray Kenyon, had been a conductor on one of the trolley cars.
Brandy Bay had been the hot spot back in the day, as just behind the tracks, closer to the lake, there had been a place called Electric Park, where folks would spend summer evenings listening to music and dancing in a community pavilion. Our parents were quick to mention that the railroad and Electric Park were way before their time, certain that the passenger service had stopped in 1927, while the railroad continued to transport freight for some years afterward.
In the early ’60s, the lower West Lake Road ran directly from Indian Pines to the Brandy Bay trolley stop, passing scattered family-owned cottages along the way. Remnants of the original track lie east of today’s Central Avenue, which wouldn’t be constructed until many years later. Minutes from Brandy Bay, we would be at the stop sign with the main entrance of Keuka College on our left. Ball Hall, Hegeman Hall, and Harrington Hall looked very impressive to all of us. An all-female college at the time, Keuka College became co-ed in 1985. Both my sister and I agreed that we would attend there following our graduation from high school, and the college would later graduate five members of our immediate families.
Turning right after stopping, our parents, pointing left, acknowledged the location of a general store and café owned by the Johnson family close to where the former Keuka Park Fire Department building stands, now a storage facility for Keuka College. A gazebo has been constructed nearby, a gift from a Keuka College alumni. Further up the road on the right was the community center, which is now the location for the Branchport and Keuka Park Fire Department. By this point in the ride and yet only minutes from home, one of us kids would ask, “Are we there yet?” to which Dad likely replied, “Pipe down, sit back, and enjoy the ride.”
Once out of Keuka Park, we headed southwest up Skyline Drive, where we were encouraged to look for deer, be they in a field or hedgerow, coming to a stop the moment any of us saw one. I kid you not, it wasn’t out of the norm to spot herds in excess of 60 deer milling about the fields of the bluff near dusk. If the deer were standing close to the road, Dad, placing two fingers in his mouth, would send a loud whistle their way, scaring them back into the impenetrable woods. In truth, I think he enjoyed watching them hop and dart back to the safety of the trees, while telling us how the motion of their tails would signal to the other deer in the herd if danger were nearby. I laugh now as I could not tell you the number of times we would stop, each of us pondering, “Are we there yet?”
The Herrick Cemetery, an old cemetery associated with the Bluff Point community, is soon pointed out to us, as our fourth-great grandparents, Elisha and Charlotte “Latchie” Knickerbocker Kenyon are both buried there. The cemetery itself sits back maybe 50 yards from Skyline Drive and looks majestic, as it sits higher than the fields surrounding it. I have in recent years gone there and walked around. Numerous markers made from old limestone have either toppled over or are not even marked. Elisha and Charlotte’s markers looked to have been repaired. It is a beautiful and tranquil spot, as one can overlook the valley, the rolling hills, and surrounding vineyards. Now the trees, once saplings 60 years ago, are large deciduous trees with the exception of a lonesome pine, all offering shade to those who rest in peace beneath them.
This particular day had been a hot one, and thankfully it was slowly cooling down. The evening sun was hesitant to disappear, and from our vantage point it looked to be like a red orange balloon in the sky way off in the distance. We knew tomorrow would also be another sweltering day. The smell of Coppertone Sun-tan Lotion, applied earlier in the day, still lingered, having been outside all day. Still near the cemetery, Dad might then point out the Pinnacle, which is about the same elevation of 1,400 feet above sea level as Bluff Point. The Pinnacle is a peak that overlooks Bluff Point and Branchport.
The Esperanza Mansion, in the distance, was perfectly placed close to the tip of the Pinnacle and was completed in July of 1838 by John Nicholas Rose, a wealthy farmer from Virginia. Upon further research, the Roses for the most part had many of the early indigenous people known to inhabit Bluff Point along with a retinue of enslaved people provide much of the labor in construction of the mansion. It is believed that they transported the limestone from near the end of the Bluff by canoe to the shores currently in care of Keuka Lake State Park. The limestone provided necessary support in the construction of its 11- to 14-inch thick walls, complete with internal shutters to cover the windows, given the potential for rogue arrows to be directed at them.
Unbeknownst to me, the Esperanza Mansion was also part of the Underground Railroad during the Civil War. Mind you, as kids, Dad was simply pointing to a huge hill beyond the cemetery that had a huge house on it. We were impatient of course to get to wherever Dad was taking us. Even with all windows down, just sitting next to one another we were weary of the heat and our knees and elbows bumping into one another for what we thought had been a monumental amount of time. One of us again asked, “Are we there yet?” Mom turned around and gave us the look as if to say, you best not ask that again.
Further up the road from the cemetery, we take a right turn at the “V” intersection, remaining on Skyline Drive. Should one choose the road to the left, you are on Vine Road. At this junction stands a small house, formerly a two-room schoolhouse my father attended. With additional research, I found the original structure was built in 1860 for $395. Its location was known as Jerusalem District No. 4, Fingar District. Several improvements were made between 1861 and 1903; a coal stove replaced the wood-burning unit, walls were plastered, a wire fence was built, new student seats, an entrance hall was added, new floor installed, and shade trees were planted in 1903. The salary for one teacher for the winter and summer terms was $5 per week.
My siblings and I were astonished to think that the little house could be a school and that Dad had to walk to school with his siblings. Dad smirks when he tells us that he along with some of his buddies would tip over the outhouse when other students were in there. Though the distance seemed like miles to us, it was less than a half-mile from his Pepper Road home, absent concern for the weather. My siblings and I make eye contact across the large backseat, grateful to hop on a bus only minutes away from our home, transported to a larger school complete with running water and plumbing.
Still on Skyline Drive, we have now gone by the northwest entrance to Scott Road, as we still call it today. There is a house that looks to be half in the ground on the left. Mom mentions the property the house now resides upon was once left to my dad’s mother when her father had passed away, and for whatever reason, my grandparents relinquished their ownership, though the cost of additional taxes may have been motivation at the time.
If we were lucky, some nights we would see the occasional flock of turkeys trot across the road, as they like to roost just before sunset. Tempted by the possibility of an ice cream cone from Seneca Farms, we were all encouraged to increase our focus out the windows, in search of wildlife running amuck. We were rubbernecking, as competition grew to spot the next animal or feathered friend.
Just down the road a piece is the John Hall Road, which was and still is a dead end. The only things we could see from Skyline Drive were a huge barn and a house down over the hill surrounded by vineyards that looked as though they may well go all the way to the lake. Our ride proved to be more interesting and fun the further we went out on the bluff.
Arriving upon yet another old schoolhouse, which I have researched as being District No. 5, the Kenyon District, Scott Settlement District, Bluff Point District. This schoolhouse is located near the southern entrance of the Scott Road and Skyline Drive intersection. Today, the most recent owner of the schoolhouse has taken the roof off of the building and placed a huge telescope in its place, making it the perfect spot for an observatory.
Fewer houses embellish our views out of the Pontiac, as we make our way to the end of the bluff, soon approaching the home of Marland (Dutch) Griffith and his wife, Izzy (Isabelle Walrath) on the left.
They were both dear friends of our parents. I believe Dutch and Izzy owned around 210 acres out on the bluff, which had two houses and multiple outbuildings. One of the homes, not visible from the road, was in fact Dutch’s childhood home, complete with a working hand-pump above its dug well and a three-holed outhouse east of the dwelling. A large red barn to the south stored his wooden bobsleds and countless wooden beer lugs used to harvest grapes by hand, prior to modern convenience.
The house visible from Skyline Drive also had a pole barn where firewood, tractors, and implements were stored, while a wood framed hangar lay tucked away in the corner of a hardwoods, secreting Dutch’s single-engine plane, complete with canvas wings and but one seat.
An avid private pilot, Dutch was a member of the Penn Yan Flying Club, having earned his license by bicycling once a week to Penn Yan and back in his teens. Our mom, more curious than our father, once went for a brief ride in the plane. She recalls sitting upon a turned over 5-gallon bucket for a seat.
Before takeoff, Mom recalls asking Dutch if the door handle was secure enough. There was what looked to be a water hose going out onto the upper edge of the windshield from within the plane, transferring fuel to the engine. Dutch took Mom as far as Bath and back, she having a death grip on Dutch’s shoulder during the flight’s entirety. Liking the ride, she was no less happy to be back on the ground, and still the three of us begged to ask, "Are we there yet?”
The Scott family lived across from Dutch and Izzy, while the Disbrow family home and property lay to the south and east side of Skyline drive, separated by a vineyard retained by the Scotts. The Disbrow family still owns much of the land on both sides of Skyline Drive, running all the way to the Garrett property on the east side of Skyline Drive but ending somewhat sooner on the west side.
Mom excitedly tells us when Dad and she were first dating they walked down over the hill near Disbrows and carved their initials into a tree. The slanting rays of the setting sun gave the surrounding landscape a stunning panoramic view. We felt as though we were on top of the world. One could see only the tops of other hills, Barrington to the east and Pulteney to the west. We could see deer everywhere in the fields on both sides of the road.
We pulled over on the east side near the little old stone spring house that still today feeds water to the Garrett Chapel. We all got out to stretch our legs and gazed in the direction of the Wagener Mansion, built by Abraham Wagener in 1833 on the southern tip of Bluff Point. Dad mentioned the stones used to build the foundation of the mansion were rumored to have come from the early indigenous ruins on Bluff Point. The mansion is not only intimidating by its size, but the grounds around the residence were well taken care of.
Dad was like an encyclopedia, full of information that he wanted to share with us. He then mentions our great-grandfather, Ray Kenyon, had been the manager of Paul Garrett’s vineyards for a time. Dad, along with his father and brother, all worked for the Garrett family, tending to their vineyards and fields, often using work horses to complete many tasks up and over the steep terrain, better suited to billy goats.
In writing this story, I interviewed my brother, who spent countless hours hunting with our dad on the bluff. I inquired as to whether I had forgotten any significant locations we may have heard tell of during the course of our rides, and he had several: Besides knowing the whereabouts of abandoned wells of grave importance to hunters, he mentioned places like the Hogpen, the Hole, and the Hairpin. The latter two, still visible on Google Earth, each name assigned to trails forged for farming or logging, all located on the west side of Skyline Drive.
Conversation momentarily turns to ice cream, and the debate ensues as to who wants what, with many, “I changed my minds,” in between. Both Dad and Mom settle on splitting a banana split. Returning North on Skyline Drive, Dad decided to take the first left going down Pepper Road.
I have found in old articles that Pepper Road had also been called Pepperville Road. The property immediately on the west side of the road had once belonged to the Pepper family. John William Pepper and Ruth Annie Kirk had immigrated from Leicestershire, England. They raised their family on Bluff Point. Dad went into great detail describing how the farm was huge, with a great big white farmhouse and a barn. He had never been in the house but was told by other Pepper family members that there had been a wood kitchen stove, and water needed for the kitchen was brought up by the pail from a pump down the hill in the gully. There was also an outhouse.
They owned several animals: cows, horses to pull the plow, rabbits, chickens, and pigs. Best known for their Concord grape vineyards, they also had assorted apple, cherry, and pear trees as well as black and red raspberries and strawberries. This property is now part of Keuka Lake State Park. Sadly, the Pepper home perished in a fire.
Our ride down Pepper Road continued, and we only had to cross over West Bluff Drive, which was perpendicular to Skyline Drive. This next property belonged to Herb Valentine; he owned around 114 acres, with his property adjoining the Gridley property. Both Pepper and Valentine properties went down the hill from Skyline Drive to Keuka Lake.
Dad and his father had been out hunting deer on a cold December morning when they heard cries for help coming from the Herb Valentine property. They found Herb lying on the ground near the wood pile. He had gone out to get wood for his stove the night before and fallen. Unable to get up, he had laid there overnight. Thankfully, Mr. Valentine didn’t suffer any great harm.
The Finger Lakes State Park, as it was known then, filed notice of acquisition and transfer of deeds, dated November of 1961 after the death of Herb Valentine. The Pepper and Valentine property totaled close to 500 acres.
I remember Dad parking the car at the top of West Bluff Drive in the winter, as the road was and still isn’t plowed in the winter. My parents, my siblings, and I would trudge through the snow part way down West Bluff Drive with our sleds in tow. We would be exhausted just going sledding down the hill two or three times.
#historyblog#history#museum#archives#yatescounty#american history#us history#local history#newyork#jerusalemny#bluffpointny#keukalake
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I am very very happy to be back home. I missed my James and my animals and my house and my bed. It was a very long day of travel but it was worth it. And while I'm not feeling very good right now, emotionally I am just really happy to be back.
Last night I had a really bad upset stomach and was awake with pain a few times. I was just not comfortable and I think it was mainly nerves, but partially that the boat was rocking a lot. And it would keep rocking until we docked at 7.
I woke up right before it finished parking when the engine went off and the tug boats were pulling it into its spot. It was interesting to watch while we got up and got dressed. Jess wasn't sure if we were moving but I pointed out that we were looking at a parking lot moving next to us and not a boat so she agreed with me that we were in fact still moving.
It didn't take us long to finish packing up. I would remember to get out decorations off of the door and Jess checked all of the drawers. And then we were off to breakfast.
The elevators were horrible today. Everyone was on them and so they were taking up to ten minutes to get. I would get in a tiff with an old man who tried to push Jess off the elevator when he was being impatient. I was like Jesus Christ dude calm down we are all on this elevator until it stops.
But we would make it to breakfast and found her parents. And they were sharing the table with two nice ladies. Who were apparently part of a group of 44?? That's wild, I bet the coordinating was intense.
We would leave our suitcases with Tom and went to get breakfast. Jess and her mom would go get coffee and I got food. And it was tough to eat because I was still very nauseous. It wasn't as bad once the boat wasn't rocking. But the nausea wouldn't ever actually stop.
After breakfast we would go down to the theater in our waiting spot. We had gotten word from Scott and Kerry that they had gotten off the ship already?? And we were like. Why?? We aren't getting off for almost two hours. It was a wild choice on their park. They didn't have breakfast, they just ran off the boat. And would have to wait in the heat for us I guess.
The theater wasn't bad though. We got seats and just chilled.
I was the only one who's phone was working though. No idea why but I had service again and could watch videos and space out and tried to not think about my stomach hurting.
People were struggling with instructions. Don't sit in the door way. Line up here. Come up with your assigned number. But I would help direct our group. Which was fine but also I had to keep telling everyone the same info and they would question me and I am like, I'm the only one paying attention please just follow my lead. And once I got everyone on board we were good.
Our number was called and we were off the boat pretty quickly. It was pretty easy honestly. While we were heading out though Scott called and let us know they were getting rides with their aunts. That works. More room in the car for us.
We would head to the parking garage and Tom paid for the parking and we had a much easier time packing up the car with two less people and one less (huge) suitcase. And we were pretty quickly on the road.
Our ETA was 11. Traffic was bad near New York. Not shocking. It wasn't a bad drive though and Jess told me some of her projects at work and I tried to make some suggestions. I listened to music and watched the world. It was good.
We made one pit stop. And so we would actually get to her parents at 11:15. And Scott and Kerry would drive up minutes after us.
Everyone got inside. Tom turned the water back on and Jess filled her bottle. Hugs all around. And then we were off again. (They offered lunch but we had a lot of driving still and I wanted to be home before 4)
We would make a quick layover at my parents. It was so nice to see them for a half hour. Hugs and a quick catch up. They both looked good. My dad is a little wobbly but he's getting stronger. And my mom's smile looked great. I love them both so much and I was so glad we got that little visit.
But pretty quickly we were off again. My mom came out with us and joked about a huge leaf she found (it was her "new bikini") and I told her to go inside. Silly goose.
The drive to Jess's house was fine. We were both hungry so we would stop at Wawa close to her house to get sandwiches and chips. We made a wrong turn but got back on track and got our food and went to her house.
We were very happy to see it was in one piece. Her cat, Ladybird, was super chatty and seemed really happy that Jess was home. We would have our lunch in the living room. And once we moved my bags to my car we hugged and I went home.
The traffic was bad though and it took an hour and forty five minutes to get home. I listened to a podcast and some music and tried to not feel so sleepy and bad. I couldn't figure out how to not be hot in the sun or to cold with the AC blasting on my hands. But thankfully I would roll up at 330 and was so happy to see our house.
I got inside and the house was still partially set up for the band who slept over. (Who said our hose had incredible rizz.) But I was just so happy to see my animals. I hugged on Sweetp. I checked on Crabcake and the frogs. And I started bringing everything upstairs.
I would take a very long shower first. Scrubbed like crazy. Used the good shampoo. I felt so much better.
Once I was clean and dressed I would go get Crabcake to let him walk around the bedroom while I worked on unpacking and putting things away. I had a video going. I was in a good mood. But I was slightly overwhelmed and it would take me longer then I planned to put everything away.
James would come home and kicked the bedroom door open to be dramatic and possibly knocked into Crabcake but it seemed fine. Continued his walking around the room. And I was so happy to be with my husband.
I would tell James about the trip. They would tell me about the day. I would finish putting things away. And eventually James would go and put away the rest of the bedding that the band used. We did find someone left their tooth paste so they are in "tour jail" according to the band and will probably be by Monday on their way back to Philly. We will keep it safe til then.
James would hang out with me for a while. But eventually would leave to go do laundry. I was feeling nauseous still. So I would have James return Crabcake to his tank. And I would clean the frog tanks and tidy up the kitchen a tiny bit. And eventually headed back to bed.
James would bring me chipotle for dinner which was perfect. When they got back I had moved to the couch and was very very nauseous and so eating was a struggle. Like it tastes good but made me want to throw up. But I had half and James packed up the rest for later.
And we have been hanging in the couch since then. Sweetp is being a sweetie, though Daisy the neighbor dog can see him through the window and she wants to be friends so bad and is whining and so to not distress her we closed the blinds so she can't see the boy.
My allergies are bothering me. And my stomach. I am sipping water and I took some medicine. But I am just really ready to sleep.
I feel really greatful. Greatful to get to go on this trip with Jess's family. Greatful I got to see my parents. Greatful that I got to eat good food today. And so greatful I have the day off tomorrow still!! I hope that I feel a little better tomorrow. I love you all. Goodnight.
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Unelegant Universe
06/12/2024
Transportation Accessibility Analysis for Unelegant Universe
A Google search leading to an “I Love New York” type web site revealed that visiting restaurants in Hell’s Kitchen was one of the site’s most recommended attractions in New York City for people who are wheelchair users. As part of my study of the role of transportation and innovative technology in facilitating access for people with disabilities, I conducted a wheelchair experiment to test that out. I started at the Hampton Inn on 337 West 39th Street in the Garment District. Level one transportation is the motorized chair, which had little problem leaving the hotel through the automatic door openers, although the second/outer door was a little quick on the close.
Once on the sidewalk, there were level two transportation options. In New York City that could be cab, bus, personal auto, subway, private van service, etc. For people not using wheelchairs there are biking, scooter, and rickshaw options that obviously weren’t a good choice; Uber and other private rides are not often accessible. A personal auto is also not recommended in Manhattan for nearly anyone due to congestion and parking costs. The subway does not serve Hell’s Kitchen from that direction (and many subway stations remain inaccessible to wheelchair users, so that would need scouted out in advance even if it were an option). The cost for a private van was prohibitive compared to bus or cab fare, so ultimately the realistic choices were walking (i.e., moving by chair), cab, or bus.
The New York Times reported that the wait time for an accessible cab had been reduced from 34 minutes to 13 minutes, but my calls to cab services and talks to locals suggested that it still would be at least a 30-minute wait, and probably longer. That left bus and just walking (chairing). A quick look at the bus routes showed that there would be two quick changes of routes, and a couple of blocks jaunt to a bus stop. It seemed since it was a sunny day that maybe a relaxing walk (chair ride) would just be the best option. (Sidenote: MTA claims that 100% of their buses are accessible; of the 13 I saw on our journey all had accessibility equipment; there was no way to check that all were working…) Since the restaurant area of Hell’s Kitchen was in theory less than ten blocks away, I decided to just go on my own.
I turned to the right and immediately encountered a construction enclosure over the sidewalk, but unlike others I would soon pass through, this one was wide enough that someone using a chair could pass by someone walking by in the opposite direction. I reached the corner of 39th and Ninth Avenue and turned right. So far, so good. People, for some unnatural reason, seemed to want to steer clear of me, although personally I am starting to notice bad, uneven stretches of sidewalk that ultimately are a wear and tear on me, and on the chair, too. I continued up Ninth past the bus garage and ultimately up to 42nd Street. I couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the charming stores or small cafes had an eight inch or so threshold to get into the door.
I crossed over Ninth, trying to ignore a couple of delivery bikes clearly violating traffic patterns, and headed toward 10th Avenue on 42nd Street. For the first time, I encountered sidewalk construction coverings that only had room for my chair and not so much for another person to pass. This caused some awkwardness for others but not so much for me as I know I am entitled to the right of way. Turning right onto Tenth Avenue and entering Hell’s Kitchen proper, then heading NE I encounter my first missing curb cut. Why here? I wondered. But it wasn’t long before a city repair crew blocked another intersection which did have a curb cut; but one not available to me!
About 46th Street (I don’t want to be too specific and give away anyone’s real business) we reached the restaurant we had scoped out online in advance, and it turned out that they, too, had a significant threshold. The woman at the entrance offered first to have us sit outside in a sidewalk seating area (which I definitely didn’t want to do), and then seemed to toy with the idea of her brother helping me and the chair in, but I could tell she knew she shouldn’t do that and I ultimately acquiesced to sitting outside.
The space was cramped. The woman helpfully scooted one table to the side, but from my perspective that was ad hoc and kept someone else from sitting outside who might have wanted to. None-the-less, the food was as good as advertised and it was a delightful meal. The people there were genuinely kind, attentive, and fun to talk to.
Leaving the restaurant, we decided to cut back over on 46th Street to head back to the hotel, making essentially a big square pattern. Within the first two blocks, a sidewalk was fully closed for a stretch and I had to backtrack and recross to the other side; there were also more stretches of buckled and rough sidewalk; there were more narrow construction sidewalk coverings; and there were people who sometimes put on the expression that I was the problem slowing them down.
By the time we returned to the hotel, I was thoroughly exhausted, physically and mentally. To say that restaurants in Hell’s Kitchen are an ideal attraction for people with disabilities including wheelchair users seems a bit problematic…
###
Postscript. I don’t normally use a wheelchair, but I conducted this experience on foot trying to imagine what it would actually be like. Since transportation has been a major battleground over disability rights, and an incredible emerging technology over the last two-hundred years, transportation is one of the “innovation lens” through which I am trying gauge the impact of Artificial Intelligence on people with disabilities. The moral of this short, mostly “true” story is: “Will the reality match the promise?” and “When has a new technology ever seriously changed people’s views about disability?”
My coming book on this is entitled: The Unelegant Universe, and I can be reached at [email protected] if you have thoughts to share or would agree to be interviewed for the project.
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“wanna watch the sunrise? '' '' i am, right now. '' - Janegon? 💜
(Sorry for the delay - busy with some personal things...plus I forgot I queued up the prompt list.)
It had been a very long night of busting. Free-repeaters and all. The "boys" got back around 2am. All went to bed except for Egon, who had documentation to conduct. As dawn approached, Janine stepped outside for some fresh air. She had opted to stay at the firehouse until the men returned in case the worst happened, something she never liked to do on principle because Peter might further exploit her secretarial services. But of course she stayed for Egon. As she walked through the gigantic firehouse doors, pulling one almost closed behind her. She took a deep breathe, hugging herself and closing her eyes in the early morning light.
Meanwhile, Egon was sitting at his desk, getting lost in some analysis. He concluded his notes on the presence of mushrooms near the scene of the free-repeating ghost, set down his pen and stretched. He realized it was morning as a thin beam of yellow-pink light stretched across the concrete floor of the garage. His friends and colleagues were upstairs fast asleep. Egon realized that it must be Janine who opened the door. He slowly got up, feeling the stiffness of his knees and hips from the night's work and too much sitting. It was the most silent New York City ever was at any time of the day. He smoothed the side of his hair and walked with elegant steadiness towards the doors.
Janine was facing the sun, her red-tinted brown hair shone in the golden light. Suddenly he was standing behind her.
"Are you cold?"
Janine jumped slightly. She turned to see Egon and went back to facing the light.
"Ya scared me," she said softly.
"Sorry."
Egon stepped closer. He didn't know what to say. In a way, he didn't need to say anything. He knew she had stayed, if not for him, out of concern for all of them. Despite her sometimes forthright demeanor, she was a woman of deep feeling.
“Wanna watch the sunrise?"
"I am, right now," he said looking at her.
He gently wrapped an arm around her waist, asking if it was ok before drawing her near.
"I'm so glad you're ok," Janine said. And Egon gently squeezed her closer. She smiled. The sunlight warmed them.
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Upgrade to a Modern and Secure Garage Door Opener with York Garage Door in Richmond Hill
Are you tired of manually opening and closing your garage door every day? Do you want to upgrade to a modern, automatic garage door opener? Look no further than York Garage Door, your trusted garage door opener installation experts in Richmond Hill.
One of the main benefits of installing a garage door opener is the convenience it provides. With just the touch of a button, you can easily open and close your garage door without having to get out of your car. This is especially convenient during inclement weather or when you’re in a hurry.
Another benefit of installing a garage door opener is the added security it provides. Many modern garage door openers come with advanced security features, such as rolling code technology and automatic locking mechanisms, that can help deter intruders and keep your home and family safe.
At York Garage Door, we understand that choosing the right garage door opener can be overwhelming. That’s why our team of experts is always available to help you navigate your options and choose the best garage door opener for your specific needs.
We also offer professional garage door opener installation services to ensure that your new opener is installed correctly and operates safely and efficiently. Our experienced technicians will take the time to explain the features and functionality of your new garage door opener, and they’ll make sure that it’s properly calibrated and balanced for optimal performance.
In addition to garage door opener installation, we also offer a wide range of garage door repair and maintenance services. Whether your garage door needs a simple adjustment or a major repair, our team of experienced technicians can handle the job quickly and efficiently.
At York Garage Door, we take pride in providing our clients with top-quality workmanship, excellent customer service, and fair and transparent pricing. We’re committed to ensuring that your garage door opener installation or repair project is a success, and we stand behind our work with a comprehensive warranty.
In conclusion, if you’re looking to upgrade to a modern, automatic garage door opener, choose York Garage Door for top-quality products and professional installation services. Our team of experienced technicians in Richmond Hill will work closely with you to choose the best garage door opener for your specific needs, and we’ll ensure that it’s installed quickly, safely, and efficiently. Contact us today to schedule a consultation and get started on your garage door opener installation project!
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The Garage Door Checklist: How to Extend the Life of Your New York Door
Our garage door is more than just a convenience; it's an essential part of your home's security and curb appeal. Keeping it in optimal condition can prevent costly repairs and extend its lifespan. Here's a comprehensive checklist to help you maintain your garage door and ensure it serves you well for years to come in the bustling environment of New York.
1. Inspect the Hardware Regularly
One of the simplest ways to keep your garage door functioning smoothly is by regularly inspecting the hardware. Check for loose bolts, hinges, and brackets. Tighten any loose parts and look for signs of wear or rust, especially in New York’s varying weather conditions.
2. Lubricate Moving Parts
Lubrication is key to a smooth, quiet garage door operation. Apply a high-quality lubricant to all moving parts, such as rollers, hinges, tracks, and springs, at least twice a year. This not only reduces friction but also extends the life of the components by preventing wear and tear.
3. Test the Door Balance
An unbalanced garage door can cause strain on the opener, leading to premature failure. To test the balance, disconnect the opener and manually lift the door halfway. If it doesn’t stay in place, your door may need a professional adjustment.
4. Check and Clean the Tracks
Keeping the tracks clean and aligned is crucial for smooth garage door movement. Clear out debris, dirt, and dust regularly to prevent blockages. Misaligned tracks can cause the door to malfunction, so ensure they are straight. If you notice significant bending or damage, it's time to call a professional.
5. Inspect the Weatherstripping
New York’s weather can be unpredictable, from heavy rain to snow. The weatherstripping on your garage door plays an important role in keeping moisture, cold air, and debris out. Inspect the rubber seal at the bottom of the door for cracks or wear, and replace it if needed.
6. Test the Auto-Reverse Safety Feature
Your garage door opener’s auto-reverse feature ensures that the door stops and reverses if it detects an object in its path. This safety feature is crucial for preventing accidents. Place a block of wood or an object under the door and close it. If the door doesn’t reverse, call a technician immediately to repair the opener.
7. Examine the Cables and Springs
The cables and springs are under extreme tension, which makes them critical for proper garage door operation but also potentially dangerous. Inspect them visually for any signs of wear, rust, or fraying, but avoid trying to adjust them yourself. Any issues with these components should be handled by a professional.
8. Clean the Door Surface
Whether your garage door is made of steel, wood, or aluminum, keeping the surface clean not only maintains its appearance but also prevents damage. Use mild detergent and water to wash the door a few times a year. This is especially important in New York, where pollution and road salt can accumulate.
9. Schedule Professional Maintenance
While DIY tasks are helpful, having a professional inspect your garage door annually can identify potential issues before they become major problems. Technicians can make precise adjustments, inspect hard-to-reach components, and ensure everything is in working order.
Conclusion
Following this garage door maintenance checklist can significantly extend the life of your door, saving you from unexpected breakdowns and costly repairs. Whether you’re a homeowner or a business owner in New York, proactive care will keep your garage door running smoothly for years to come.
For expert garage door repair or professional maintenance, contact us at Garage Door Repair Service New York. Our experienced technicians are ready to assist you with any issues and ensure your door operates at its best!
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Enhance Your Home’s Aesthetic with the Perfect Garage Door from Master Garage Door And Gate
Introduction:
In the diverse and architecturally rich boroughs of Queens, Bronx, and Brooklyn, a garage door does more than secure your home—it also plays a crucial role in defining its aesthetic appeal. Master Garage Door And Gate is here to help you choose a garage door that not only meets your functional needs but also complements your home’s unique style.
Matching Garage Door Styles with Home Architecture:
Selecting the right garage door is pivotal in maintaining the character and curb appeal of your home. Here are some tips on how to match garage door styles with common architectural themes in your borough:
Victorian and Historic Homes (especially prevalent in parts of Queens and Brooklyn): Opt for carriage-house style doors that echo the traditional and ornate features of these homes.
Modern and Contemporary Homes (found across Brooklyn and Bronx): Consider sleek, minimalist garage doors with clean lines and subdued patterns that enhance the modernity of your residence.
Classic and Colonial Homes: Raised panel garage doors with symmetrical patterns are perfect as they offer a timeless appeal that matches the colonial aesthetics.
Materials and Customization Options:
Master Garage Door And Gate offers a variety of materials and customization options to ensure your garage door is the perfect fit for your home:
Wood: Offers warmth and can be customized in terms of design and finish to match traditional and modern homes alike.
Steel: Known for its durability and strength, ideal for providing security while still allowing for various stylistic choices through different finishes and panel designs.
Aluminum with Glass Panels: Best for contemporary homes, these can add a sleek and modern touch while also letting in natural light.
Custom Paint and Finishes: We can customize colors and finishes to match your home’s exterior palette, ensuring seamless integration.
Incorporating Advanced Features:
Today’s garage doors come equipped with various advanced features that can increase both the functionality and convenience of your home:
Insulation: Particularly important in the fluctuating climates of New York City, insulated doors help maintain temperature control and reduce energy costs.
Smart Home Compatibility: Upgrade to a smart garage door opener that allows you to control access from your smartphone, enhancing both security and convenience.
Why Choose Master Garage Door And Gate?
Expert Guidance: Our team of skilled professionals is knowledgeable about architectural trends and can provide expert advice on choosing the right garage door to complement your home’s design.
Quality Installation: We ensure high-quality installation that adheres to industry standards, enhancing the longevity and performance of your garage door.
Customer Satisfaction: At Master Garage Door And Gate, we prioritize your satisfaction, offering personalized services that cater to your specific needs and preferences.
Conclusion:
Choosing the right garage door can significantly enhance the look and feel of your home. With Master Garage Door And Gate, you gain a partner who understands the architectural diversity of Queens, Bronx, and Brooklyn and can deliver a solution that perfectly matches your home’s style and your personal needs. Contact us today to explore our wide range of options and start transforming the appearance and functionality of your home.
Find Master Garage Door Services:
Master Garage Door
Address: 137-39 70th Rd, Queens, NY 11367, United States
Contact Number: +18003133922
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Same-Day Garage Door Services
PROFIX Garage Door Repair offers reliable garage door service Newmarket residents rely on. With a commitment to prompt and efficient same-day service, they understand the inconvenience and potential risks associated with a malfunctioning garage door. Whether you need a new garage door installed or repairs for an existing one, their team is dedicated to providing secure and efficient solutions. With their expertise and attention to detail, you can trust PROFIX Garage Door Repair to ensure your garage door is functioning smoothly and safely. Count on them for all your garage door service needs, including garage door installation Newmarket area, and experience prompt and reliable assistance from skilled professionals.
The Transportation System in Newmarket, Ontario
In Newmarket, Ontario, getting around is pretty easy, thanks to its transportation system. The town has buses that run on different routes, making it convenient for people to travel within Newmarket and even to nearby towns. Many people also walk or ride bikes, especially when the weather is warm and nice. For those who need to go farther, there are highways nearby that connect to Toronto and other cities. Plus, Newmarket has a train station, making it easy for commuters to travel to and from work. With its well-connected transportation system, getting around Newmarket is simple and efficient, helping residents and visitors reach their destinations safely and on time.
Upper Canada Mall
Upper Canada Mall is a large shopping center located in Newmarket, Ontario. It features various stores, restaurants, and entertainment options. Visitors can explore popular retail stores offering clothing, accessories, electronics, and more. When hunger strikes, many dining choices are available, including fast-food restaurants and sit-down eateries. The mall also features entertainment options such as a cinema where movie buffs can catch the latest films. Throughout the year, Upper Canada Mall hosts special events and promotions, adding excitement and variety to the shopping experience. With its ideal location and various offerings, Upper Canada Mall provides residents and visitors a one-stop destination for dining, shopping, and entertainment.
A Meteor Was Captured on the Security Doorbell in Ontario
Meteors are like shooting stars and it's super cool to see them. They're small rocks or debris from space that enter Earth's atmosphere. When they enter, they burn up and create bright streaks of light across the sky. Meteors are visible on Earth quite often, but how often you see them depends on where you are and the time of year. Sometimes, there are special events called meteor showers, where you can see lots of meteors at once. Other times, you might just catch one or two shooting across the sky. Keep an eye out, especially on clear nights, and you might just spot a meteor making its way through the atmosphere.
Link to maps
Upper Canada Mall 17600 Yonge St, Newmarket, ON L3Y 4Z1, Canada Get on ON-404 S in Whitchurch-Stouffville from Eagle St W and Mulock Dr/York Regional Rd 74 12 min (8.0 km) Continue on ON-404 S to Richmond Hill. Take exit 77 from ON-407 16 min (28.0 km) Follow Yonge St/York Regional Rd 1 to your destination in Vaughan 6 min (3.3 km) PROFIX Garage Door Repair 7378 Yonge St #109, Thornhill, ON L4J 8J1, Canada
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A-24 Hour Door National Inc.
A-24 Hour Door National Inc. provides an indispensable service when it comes to Buffalo commercial door repair, catering to a spectrum of door-related predicaments that can arise unexpectedly in the commercial setting. Operating with the urgency that your business requires, our adept professionals are equipped to tackle emergent situations round-the-clock, all year round. Understanding that a faulty door can compromise both security and productivity, we ensure prompt and reliable service to address your concerns swiftly.
Our skilled technicians possess the expertise needed for comprehensive Buffalo commercial door repair, which encompasses a thorough diagnosis and quick resolution of malfunctions related to garage doors, entryway systems, and other vital access points within a business establishment. Our team's proficiency extends across various types of commercial doors, including but not limited to revolving doors, automatic doors, and overhead doors – ensuring no matter the issue at hand, you have proficient support just one call away.
Rapid response coupled with exceptional craftsmanship is what defines A-24 Hour Door National Inc.'s approach toward emergency repair services. We prioritize restoring functionality and securing your premises with minimal downtime so that business operations can proceed without significant disruptions.
Accessibility is key in emergencies; hence we extend our Buffalo commercial door repair services to multiple locations across the region – making sure assistance is always within reach. Affordability accompanies our excellence in service delivery; however, it never compromises the quality or durability of our repairs.
Whether dealing with wear and tear or unexpected damage brought on by external factors, A-24 Hour Door National Inc. stands as a bulwark against any door debacle your enterprise might face. Contact us today for steadfast solutions tailored specifically for rapid recovery from all your commercial door repair exigencies.
Contact Us:
A-24 Hour Door National Inc. 344 Sycamore St, Buffalo, New York, 14204, USA (716) 894-2000 [email protected] https://a24hour.biz/locations/buffalo/
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Premier Garage Door Repair Services Across Hudson, Essex, and Middlesex Counties, NJ
Garage doors play a pivotal role in the safety, functionality, and aesthetic appeal of homes across New Jersey. Residents of Hudson, Essex, and Middlesex Counties can rely on top-notch garage door repair services, ensuring their doors are always in optimal condition. This blog delves into the comprehensive repair services offered across these vibrant counties, highlighting local expertise in numerous towns from Bayonne to Woodbridge.
Hudson County's Garage Door Specialists: In the bustling communities of Hudson County, from Jersey City to West New York, homeowners demand swift, reliable garage door repair services. Whether it's the historic streets of Hoboken or the waterfront vistas of Weehawken, our team provides expert repairs, including emergency responses and routine maintenance, ensuring your garage door is a reliable safeguard for your home.
Key Service Areas in Hudson County:
Bayonne: Specializing in robust security features and modern opener technologies.
Secaucus: Expertise in handling weather-related wear and tear, ensuring durability.
North Bergen: Providing customized solutions for unique architectural styles.
Essex County's Trusted Garage Door Services: Essex County, with its diverse architectural landscape from the suburban tranquility of Livingston to the urban pulse of Newark, requires a versatile approach to garage door repair. Our services in Essex County are designed to meet the specific needs of each locale, ensuring that whether you're in Montclair or Bloomfield, your garage door complements and enhances your property's security and curb appeal.
Prominent Locations in Essex County:
Maplewood and South Orange: Focusing on aesthetic and functional harmony in garage door designs.
Caldwell and Roseland: Offering advanced diagnostics and precision repairs for optimal performance.
Middlesex County's Comprehensive Garage Door Solutions: Middlesex County, with its blend of residential tranquility and commercial vibrancy, sees a wide array of garage door styles and configurations. From the classic homes in Cranbury to the modern developments in Edison, our technicians are equipped to handle all types of garage door issues, ensuring reliable function and aesthetic integration with your home's design.
Featured Middlesex County Areas:
East Brunswick and Old Bridge: Prioritizing energy-efficient and high-performance door solutions.
Metuchen and Monroe Township: Custom repair services tailored to local homeowners' needs.
Why Choose Our Services Across These Counties?
Local Expertise: Our in-depth knowledge of each county's architectural styles and community needs allows us to provide targeted, effective repair solutions.
Comprehensive Repair Range: From spring replacements in Carteret to opener repairs in Kearny, we cover all aspects of garage door functionality.
Customer-Centric Approach: We prioritize your satisfaction, offering personalized services, transparent communication, and enduring solutions.
Conclusion: For homeowners in Hudson, Essex, and Middlesex Counties, NJ, reliable garage door repair services are crucial for maintaining home security, functionality, and aesthetic appeal. Our dedicated teams across these counties are committed to delivering excellence in garage door repair, ensuring your home remains safe, accessible, and visually appealing.
Call to Action: Don't let garage door issues compromise your home's safety or disrupt your daily routine. Contact our expert AZ Garage Door NJ team today for premier garage door repair services in Hudson, Essex, and Middlesex Counties. Whether you're in Jersey City, Newark, or Edison, we're here to provide you with the best in garage door maintenance and repair.
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Mega Garage Door
Unlocking the Best: Mega Garage Door Leading the Way in Garage Door Solutions
In the realm of home maintenance and improvement, few elements are as crucial yet often overlooked as the garage door. Not only does it serve as a primary entry point to our homes, but it also adds to the aesthetic appeal and security of the Garage Door Supplier. Understanding the significance of a well-functioning garage door, Mega Garage Door emerges as a beacon of excellence in North York, Ontario, delivering top-notch services in garage door repair, installation, and maintenance.
A Trusted Name: Mega Garage Door
Located at 59 Ashwarren Rd, North York, ON M3J 1Z7, Canada, Mega Garage Door has solidified its position as a go-to destination for all things related to garage doors in the region. Helmed by the experienced business owner Avraham Abu, the company has garnered a reputation for excellence, reliability, and unparalleled customer service.
Comprehensive Services Catering to Every Need
What sets Mega Garage Door apart from the competition is its comprehensive range of services aimed at addressing every conceivable issue related to garage doors. Whether it's a malfunctioning opener, a broken spring, or a need for a complete door replacement, Mega Garage Door has the expertise and resources to handle it all.
Garage Door Repair: Mega Garage Door understands the inconvenience and security risks associated with a malfunctioning garage door. With prompt and efficient repair services, they ensure that your door is back in working order in no time, restoring both functionality and peace of mind.
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Garage Door Opener Repair: A faulty garage door opener can disrupt your daily routine and compromise the security of your property. Mega Garage Door offers prompt and reliable opener repair services, diagnosing the issue accurately and implementing the necessary fixes to restore functionality.
Why Mega Garage Door Stands Out
Amidst a sea of garage door service providers, Mega Garage Door shines brightly, thanks to several key factors:
Expertise and Experience: With a track record of repairing and installing over five thousand garage doors annually, Mega Garage Door boasts unparalleled expertise and experience in the industry.
Prompt and Reliable Service: Time is of the essence when it comes to garage door issues. Mega Garage Door understands this urgency and prioritizes prompt response times and efficient service delivery, ensuring minimal disruption to your routine.
Quality Craftsmanship: From repairs to installations, Mega Garage Door adheres to the highest standards of craftsmanship, using premium-quality materials and employing advanced techniques to deliver lasting results.
Customer-Centric Approach: At Mega Garage Door, customer satisfaction reigns supreme. Their team of friendly and knowledgeable professionals goes above and beyond to address customer concerns, offering personalized solutions tailored to individual needs.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Mega Garage Door stands as a beacon of excellence in the realm of garage door solutions in North York, Ontario. Garage Door Repair a comprehensive range of services, unmatched expertise, and unwavering commitment to customer satisfaction, they continue to set the benchmark for quality and reliability in the industry. For all your garage door needs, trust Mega Garage Door to deliver excellence every time.
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vimeo
At MDF Closets, we take pride in being a local, family-owned business. Open the door to a world of organization with our reach in closets Bensalem PA. Create a space where your clothing & accessories are always in their place.
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Garage Door Repair in Newmarket
At York Garage Door Guys, we provide comprehensive services to fulfill all of your demands because we recognize the importance of having a garage door system and Garage Door Repair in Newmarket are the main service in our area . Whether you require routine maintenance to keep your system in good working order, repairs for a broken door, or new installation, our staff has the knowledge and resources to complete the task correctly.
Garage Door Repair: A wide range of problems, such as damaged panels, malfunctioning openers, broken springs, and more, can be identified and resolved by our skilled professionals.
Garage Door Installation: We'll take care of the whole installation procedure from beginning to end, and we provide a range of premium garage door models to meet your requirements and tastes.
Garage Door Maintenance: By keeping your garage door system in good working order, you can save money on future, expensive repairs. To maintain your system operating at its best, our staff may offer continuing
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Expert Garage Door Repair in New York: Your Trusted Solution
For Licensed Garage Door Repair in New York, rely on Garagedoorprolongisland. With skilled technicians and prompt service, we handle repairs, installations, and maintenance with utmost precision. Your satisfaction is our priority. Contact us today for reliable and professional garage door solutions.
Visit:- https://www.garagedoorprolongisland.com/
Call:- 917-436-0006
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