The Wrecking Crew Read Online Free

lessons.
    Thrilled with the gift, even if it was a rather cheaply built instrument, Carol threw herself into practicing with her characteristic industriousness. And she became pretty good.
    Shortly after the momentous occasion with the man at the front door, good fortune smiled upon Carol once again. Her girlfriend Jean Blue asked Carol to tag along with her one afternoon to a regular guitar lesson that had been scheduled with a teacher in nearby Long Beach.
    â€œCome on, Carol. It’ll be fun.”
    Seeing no reason not to go, Carol grabbed her little steel guitar and set out with her friend. Maybe it would be fun.
    After appropriate introductions, the guitar teacher—an esteemed instructor and graduate of the Eastman School of Music named Horace Hatchett—simply could not take his eyes off of Carol’s steel guitar. He seemed equal parts appalled and intrigued. After all, it wasn’t every day that a thirteen-year-old girl showed up toting that kind of instrument. Steel guitars are inherently difficult to play, requiring the precise use of a small glass or metal tube placed on one of the fretting fingers, which then slides up and down the strings. Hardly the best choice for someone just starting out. But there was Carol, ever the trouper, innocently trying to master a musical contraption meant for far more experienced players.
    After Jean’s lesson, as the two girls prepared to leave Hatchett’s small nondescript home on Corona Avenue, something made the longtime teacher stop and take a long look at Carol. Perhaps he recognized a bit of himself somewhere within her youthful earnestness. Or maybe it was her unusual level of talent and desire, which had become evident after he had asked her to play a little bit for him. Whatever the reason, the kid had promise; that much was clear. And Hatch (as his friends called him) had been around long enough to know.
    He decided to make her an offer.
    â€œCarol, you’re a good player. I’d be willing to give you some free lessons if you’ll help me with my teaching.”
    It was all Carol Smith needed to hear. Suddenly the overwhelming feeling of being poor, of being different, seemed to melt away. A real guitar teacher was offering to become her mentor. Maybe this would lead to being a professional musician, like her parents, and perhaps even making some money to help her mom out with the household expenses.
    Carol accepted on the spot. Only later did she learn that Horace Hatchett had played with Jimmy Dorsey, Red Nichols, and Nat King Cole. Someone was smiling down on Carol Smith.
    *   *   *
    Unfortunately for Hal Belsky—and for everyone else in attendance—the show did not resume that day at the circus.
    Despite the best efforts of dozens of Ringling Bros. performers and roustabouts, no amount of water seemed to quell the rapidly moving flames as they charged up the side of the big top. As the fire reached the ceiling inside, the giant structure suddenly began to rumble and shudder, acting as a colossal chimney, sucking fresh oxygen in through the side entrances and blowing superheated air out the top. And with the tragic mixture of gasoline and paraffin that had been used as a waterproofing agent, the tent’s canvas proved to be the perfect fuel source to ignite a world-class conflagration.
    Within moments, the entire roof of the arena exploded into a raging inferno. The big top immediately erupted in chaos, as melting wax rained down like napalm, scorching everything and everyone it touched. Thick white smoke billowed everywhere and the overpowering stench of sulfur hung heavily in the air. Ringmaster Fred Bradna pleaded with the audience not to panic and to leave in an orderly fashion, but the power had failed and his voice could no longer be heard over the loudspeakers.
    People began running wildly for their lives in every direction, some with their hair and clothes on fire. Many were trampled; others ended