My name is Warren Smith. I am a retired lieutenant FDNY Ladder 9.

This entire blog is dedicated to help raise awareness and dollars for first responders in need. haveahearforheroes.org details what we have accomplished so far and the plan going forward.

Please follow us if you like the cause and the content. Once we garner enough followers, we can then solicit advertisers and raise even more money to “help us help them”.

There is a 9/11 phrase out there, “All gave some, some gave all;” Truer words were never spoken. I’d like to update this statement it if I may.

“Those who gave some are now giving it all.”

Meaning that the first responders at the WTC are now becoming ill and dying at an alarming rate. The air at Ground Zero was toxic and anyone that breathed in this air is now developing cancer, nerve issues and heart disease. The death toll continues to climb.

I personally gave some that fateful day and while I have had more than my share of health issues , somehow, I’m still here. So while I am, and with your help, this is what I want to do. . . .

At least a few times a month, I will share stories, anecdotes and photos from my cross-country trek in an RV which has already begun and will continue until the 25th anniversary of 9/11. Which we must never forget.

Here is my first story….


Helpless on Hoot Owl Road


My first RV campground experience was a memorable one. It started out simple enough. A two-and-a-half-hour trip from Charlotte NC to Radford VA to attend my daughter Shea’s golf team ring ceremony for winning the Big South Conference. 

It’s late afternoon and approaching twilight as I arrive in Radford, achieving my goal to arrive at the camp before dark. I have a campsite that requires me to back in. More easily accomplished with lots of daylight.

As I made the turn onto the road where the campground was located, the entrance came up rather quickly. Being a newbie at hauling an RV I decided not to brake suddenly and just go up the road a bit and make a U-turn. I was in the middle of nowhere, so Waze took me quite a bit up the road just to turn around.  Instructs me to turn left onto Hoot Owl Rd, a one lane winding gravel road that was more like a path then a road leading up a hill.  Turning around a VW bug would have been tough.

At this point I’m thinking my GPS has made an adjustment and I’m being directed to a back road that’ll take me right to the camp. As I get further up the hill, I begin to realize this is not the case. The adventure begins….

I come upon some tire grooved dirt roads leading to small but tidy rustic homes. No room to turn around. Finally, I decided to just choose one and go for it. As I come around a bend, I see a spooky looking home surrounded by junk and no room to negotiate a U-turn.  Throw in a couple of cadaverous canines and my only option now is to back up on a windy road with a hill on one side and a ditch on the other. Distance to the “main” road is only about 50 yards but it may as well have been 50 miles with what looked to me like the Cliffs of Dover on one side and a zig-zag WWI German trench on the other. My side view mirror might as well have said “Objects are LARGER than they appear.” Took me over 30 minutes, what felt like a HUNDRED moves and a THOUSAND curse words to back up this short distance but I “patiently” got it done and was on my way. No harm done but now it’s dark and I still had more backing up to do. Hopefully it’s a well-lit camp.

It wasn’t. Using a flashlight, I find my rather narrow space bordered by a picnic table on one side and a dent filled utility box on the other. Let the games begin.

After a few unsuccessful maneuvers to back in I got a knock on my car window. It’s a neighbor asking if I need any help. Should have said yes. Being the stubborn Irishman I am, I did not.

He sauntered back to his RV and I believe I heard him yell to his wife, “Get the popcorn ready, we got us a first-timer out here!”

After a couple of more failed back in attempts I see a dilapidated rust bucket of a pickup pull up. I’m thinking how nice, they want to help by shining their headlights on my spot. Nope. Shuts off his lights, puts his feet up on the dash and cracks open a cold one. I’m like what is this a bleepin’ Busch beer commercial?!

I figure I’ll make one more attempt but I’m certainly not going to try-try again and be there freakin’ drive-in movie for the night. After almost taking out the picnic table (I don’t want to hit the utility box and give em fireworks AND a movie!), I decide to give up and loop around the grounds and pull straight into my spot and just back out in the light of day. For the purpose of this story let’s call the rust buckets owner Rufus. He and his truck were blocking  my path. I reckon he had a few more beers left in his six pack because he wasn’t moving. I thought about gently nudging him out of my way but there appeared to be  just enough room to squeeze between him and a big old oak tree. Well almost enough room. I may have given his shitbox a nice pinstripe and him the finger as I “carefully” navigated the space.

I proceeded to loop around, pull straight into my spot and being thoroughly exhausted at this point, I sleep like a baby.

I got up early for a quick nine holes before Shea’s ring ceremony. This gave me the opportunity to quietly back out of my spot and hastily exit the premises before Rufus and his cronies pulled up chairs for some coffee and a little comic relief. Success. Mission accomplished.

While looking up where to leave a “lovely” review for my brief stay at the campsite, I learned that “Rufus” was actually the owner of the camp. His real name was Zeke. Just kidding. Mike was his real name. The review was not lovely and I did get into his mean and ornery behavior as I believe I should have. But I may have been a little harsh when I mentioned I wouldn’t have to worry about receiving any backlash due to the fact he was probably functionally illiterate.  I did WRITE the review in order to vent my frustrations but did I hit “SEND.” ???

Thankfully, I did not. In my eyes that clearly would have made me just as mean as Mike. But never as ornery!

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”