Causeway Story #9

Paul K. Dolan

There was once a time when the Causeway was "open". That is to say it was open 24 hours a day and the MP's were not out to bust a civilian at a moment's notice. Well, one fine and warm day in 1975,  I and four other teenagers, BHS Class of 1976 ( Zonian ,civilian slobs)  were out "partying" at the end of the Causeway along side a bunch of others.  All of a sudden a little gang of MPs appeared out of the blue and said  "Do not move! Stay where you are!" Next thing we see are a bunch of pimple faced (about one zit more than me) cops fanning out and surrounding us bad, long-haired, drug-crazed, empanada looking civilians.

Well, even though it wasn't mine (I swear it!) there was this bag of "stuff" stashed under the back seat of my car and I thought "Gee, Dad will never make Chief of C.Z. Customs if these uniforms find this fertilizer," so I kinda stuffed it down my pants. As the pimpled cops talked it up and down with the others, I tip-toed on over to one of those large metal dumpsters, reached inside and slid the "fertilizer" underneath some flattened cardboard boxes. The number one pimpled MP then said. "There's no alcohol allowed on these premises! This area is now closed and you all must now leave!". 

And leave we did -- a caravan of people on their way home anyway to watch Luke and Laura on TV. Well, after watching Luke trying to bang Laura, I mentioned to my friends that we all had an "investment" inside of a dumpster at the end of the Causeway and that it may well soon spice up the soil at Red Tank if we didn't act soon!

Well, sun went down and the moon came up.   We arrived back at the Causeway only to find ourselves blocked from going any further than Amador Beach because of a fence with a big ole padlock on it.  Lights out and all was very quiet as I got out of the car, slipped through the locked fence and started jogging towards Flamingo island in the middle of the night to retrieve our "investment". 

Even as I write this I can still feel that jog, the smell of salty air, the lights of Panama city to my left, the warm breeze and the thought of my ass being busted!  I had a small pocket flashlight with me as I made it to the dumpster. Just as I retrieved the "investment" and stuffed it in my pockets I could see the faint glare of lights from an approaching car. Oops! As I climbed into the dumpster and closed the opening this MP car pulls up and stops! Ok, there I was, it's almost midnight, I'm in a dumpster at the end of the Causeway with my pockets full and there's a freaking MP car less than than 10 feet away! Luckly after six "Hail Mary's" and ten "Our Fathers" I heard the sound of Mr. MP driving away.

The jog back to the awaiting car was a lot more plesant than the one out.  In all honesty I don't remember anything after that. This is a sad, but true story.

Presented by CZBrats
Update: October 4, 1998