For as long as I could pray that by some miracle, in a hidden corner of the basement, there existed a magical alcove that would protect the seventh, and last, Stephen King manuscript, sadly that was not the case.
Now that the space has been completely cleared and sanitized, ready for the rebuild, there is not one square inch that has yet to be examined. The one manuscript that did not survive was Steve’s 1973 short story “TRUCKS”, which was the basis for his 1986 directorial debut “MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE”.
I was happy that I could count it among my collection of Steve’s works for many years, and if there was any place that I wish it could be laid to rest, it would be in Bangor, where it was created, just before Steve published “CARRIE”.
As a little side-note on the crippling effects of water on paper, I would like to share with you a few things I learned during this ordeal. In a typical suburban home, your water pressure is set to a range between 40 and 60 psi. That’s a comfortable level. If you ever stood under a shower at 80 psi, you would certainly know it, because your skin would start to feel like it was being attacked with hundreds of acupuncture needles. Exceed 100 psi, and your body and appliances would start to understand what high pressure feels like.
When a water main pipe bursts, it exceeds over 200 psi+, and anything in its direct path, will be forever altered. You can cut a 3 foot tree in half with a water spray set to that level. Paper has no chance of surviving. I found hard covers floating, with the glue stripped off the spines. Cardboard boxes in the direct path became mulch, and everything inside became a simple glob, that was indistinguishable from each other.
The archival box that was designed to survive an earthquake was torn open and all its contents floated around a 1200 sq ft swimming pool for seven hours. When the water was finally turned off, I had to wait a day before I could even investigate as I needed electricians to determine it was safe to be down there.
After first finding the lid to the manuscript box, the entire area was photographed extensively to try and locate any papers that could have belonged to it. A total of 5 pages were located a few hours later, but mostly all ink had been stripped off the paper at that stage. A few key words were all that remained to determine it was the first draft and respective screenplay, and that was it.
When the papers were carefully removed to be sent away for possible salvage, I scooped up all the mud, dirt, papers, and anything else that was in the vicinity of the manuscript, for future archival purposes. If I ever thought I would be scooping up sand and mud and storing them in buckets, I would have laughed, but that’s what I did. The manuscript was gone, but the destruction remained.My first thought was to create a new window display in the coming months, to seal the moment for history, and I may still do that. While I was cleaning up the shop, a lovely couple from down South was up visiting Bangor, and asked me could they buy some of the dirt. I was dumbfounded, as I couldn’t understand why someone would buy dirt, but then again, I know some people sell sweat, and even air, so I guess anything is possible.
I couldn’t sell her my dirt because the request was the first I had ever heard, but after I thought about it a bit more, allowing fans of Stephen King a chance to own the dirt that destroyed a manuscript, and even possibly having a part of the manuscript contained within, may be something that people would want. To me it was a sad remnant of a horrible day, but to people around the world, maybe a piece of the Derry Flood of 2018 is something that would appeal to them. Maybe they will feel like they have a connection, even if they have never visited.
So, I am going to be bottling it in a limited number of test tubes, corking it, packaging it with a little story and photo, and selling it for a nominal price in the coming months. That’s right, I moved to Bangor to sell books, but that plan will be augmented with a little piece of Derry manuscript dirt in the near future. While I didn’t want to ask people to send me money when the flood occurred, as I didn’t feel comfortable with that, if you would like to help me out, and have a little souvenir in the process, please buy my dirt.
God Bless.
Gerald
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Originally Posted by Cook
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