With the passing of Robert McG. Thomas we haven't been treated to many off-beat obituaries in the NYT. They're usually all very GOOD obituaries, but the subjects, through no fault of their own, just can't be held even remotely close to The Goat Man.
The recent winners of Nathan’s Coney Island hot dog eating content are still with us, but Bill McCabe, who may have been the only man to score a 100 on the NYC Sanitation Department employment physical—known as the “Superman” test—has, at the age of 90, left us. Apparently, he always stayed fit.
His life wasn't really all that interesting. A NYC resident passes a civil service exam and physical in 1940 and becomes a Sanitation man, all the while waiting to get on the list for the police, becomes a cop, desiring even more to become like four other family members and become a fireman, which be eventually does. He retires from the Fire Department, works at the airport and passes away in a nearby NYC suburb.
His life wasn't really all that interesting. A NYC resident passes a civil service exam and physical in 1940 and becomes a Sanitation man, all the while waiting to get on the list for the police, becomes a cop, desiring even more to become like four other family members and become a fireman, which be eventually does. He retires from the Fire Department, works at the airport and passes away in a nearby NYC suburb.
But the hook is the singular event, the perfect score on the Sanitation physical that helps land Bill on the Times obituary page, complete with three column of story and a picture at 19 years old (when he passed the exam) that would now probably put him on the short list for a fitness billboard, or an underwear ad.
What Bill accomplished became an unrecognized world record. He lifted, hoisted, lifted, ran, broad-jumped (long jumped), dashed, jumped, dodged, ran, climbed, vaulted, and ran--at times with various weights over different heights and distances--the course in 10.8 seconds.
Given as we are to slogans, it might then be expected to call Sanitation workers New York’s Fittest. Pass a test like that, you’ve got to be fit. Police are already referred to as Finest, and the Fire Department uses Bravest.
In fact, it’s not urban legend, it’s true, that when the Sanitation workers went out on strike in January 1968 and the garbage started piling up at the curb, Governor Rockefeller would not call out the National Guard to remove the trash. He claimed they were not in the demanding physical shape it takes to do that job.
Luckily, it was a very cold January, and stink and health hazards didn’t get too bad before the strike was settled. And the Guardsmen weren’t suddenly forced into doing pushups, situps, and running over things while carrying weights.
Being fit does remind me of the time I was so taken with Carlos Lopes’s World Championship cross country running performance at the Meadowlands sometime in the 80s, that I took to making my own hurdle course. Being a bit of an avid track and field fan and a persistent runner, I always knew it was hard to run AND jump over things at the same time. To keep going, and to do it fast. I always admired steeplechasers. I always thought they were the fittest.
So I stacked an apple crate on top of a picnic bench in the back yard. I ran down the driveway, make a turn into the yard, and made my leap. I cleared everything, but distinctly remember hearing something in one of my knees make a sound. It didn’t sound encouraging. I landed fine and was not hurt. But I listened. The bench went back where it had been, and the apple crate went back in the garage.
Finest, Bravest, Fittest. Safest?
I’m not exactly sure, but I can almost swear the NYC Correction officers had an ad out recently that said they were NYC’s Safest. One can only imagine the T-shirts and the wearer’s leering looks after a few drinks.
I think the ad was meant to imply we are all safe because they keep everyone who is supposed to be removed from us away from us and don’t let escapes happen. They have a point.
In fact, it’s not urban legend, it’s true, that when the Sanitation workers went out on strike in January 1968 and the garbage started piling up at the curb, Governor Rockefeller would not call out the National Guard to remove the trash. He claimed they were not in the demanding physical shape it takes to do that job.
Luckily, it was a very cold January, and stink and health hazards didn’t get too bad before the strike was settled. And the Guardsmen weren’t suddenly forced into doing pushups, situps, and running over things while carrying weights.
Being fit does remind me of the time I was so taken with Carlos Lopes’s World Championship cross country running performance at the Meadowlands sometime in the 80s, that I took to making my own hurdle course. Being a bit of an avid track and field fan and a persistent runner, I always knew it was hard to run AND jump over things at the same time. To keep going, and to do it fast. I always admired steeplechasers. I always thought they were the fittest.
So I stacked an apple crate on top of a picnic bench in the back yard. I ran down the driveway, make a turn into the yard, and made my leap. I cleared everything, but distinctly remember hearing something in one of my knees make a sound. It didn’t sound encouraging. I landed fine and was not hurt. But I listened. The bench went back where it had been, and the apple crate went back in the garage.
Finest, Bravest, Fittest. Safest?
I’m not exactly sure, but I can almost swear the NYC Correction officers had an ad out recently that said they were NYC’s Safest. One can only imagine the T-shirts and the wearer’s leering looks after a few drinks.
I think the ad was meant to imply we are all safe because they keep everyone who is supposed to be removed from us away from us and don’t let escapes happen. They have a point.
I don't know if they got the raise.
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