I've been going through a box of old papers, things I've written through the years. Among them are several H50 fan fiction stories I wrote. Some were my contributions to our group writing projects, but others were some I wrote alone. Needless to say, some were pretty good, while others need to meet the shredder ASAP.
One theme ran through them all, as well as the group writing projects that we shared some years back: We always seemed to be trying to marry off McGarrett! No, we did not succeed. Invariably work took him away from all hopes he might have entertained of meeting Miss Right.
One I wrote on my own was "The Case of the Driverless Dump Truck." Operated by remote control, it was used to drive police cars over steep cliffs. It was a pretty fair first draft of what might conceivably have become a really good story -- except that I never took it beyond the first draft. Oh, well . . .
What I wanted to say about the Driverless Dump Truck is that, on our second trip to Hawaii, in 2009, we were making our way up the Farrington Highway, to Kaena Point, when we found ourselves following a dump truck. I gave thanks that we were behind him and not in front of him.
