Skip to main content

Who's Your Bank Teller?

Who's Your Bank Teller?

So after I finished my work day today I head off to the bank before heading home for family dinner. Too, more training and Norm Reicher’s selection of “Back to the Future” for family movie night. I never told him I didn’t like it...but it was a movie for him and the children... so it worked for me. 

As I pull into the strip center area where the bank is, my brain reminisces about a time in June 2012 in Phil Dunlap’s basement on a Thursday morning, where Killer Ken was late and no one else showed. I had Phil all to myself. 

As this thought flies through my head and I pull into the Bank drive-thru, there is the young man I’ve seen clean cut, gentle-manly type, with a tie on. His name is Eric. And for the last five to six months he's been my teller most times. I parked at the drive-thru to make a transaction. I smiled. No one else was around, and it’s 6:46pm Friday night.  

I began, “Eric, I just had a thought float through my head.”  

I looked around, not wanting to hold any other customers up. He smiled.  

I comnent, “If I could I got to tell you this story...I got this coach. His name is Phil. And well one day before he moved to Vegas, we were in his basement fighting. I’ll explain.” 

 Eric smiled, “Team Asylum?” 

I responded, “Yeah. How did you know?”  

He commented, “I trained there a little bit in his basement.”  

I then began to realize he had looked familiar all the time, just couldn’t place the face. We had five guys there named Eric at Phil's basement fight gym.

    “Well then, I've got this story...You ever see Phil fight with one of the guys?” 


    "Well this is the story that is stuck in my head... So after a 20 minute warm-up on pads, Phil asks, 'You want to move?' I respond my usual, 'Yeah, sure.' I know he’ll put it to me. But it’ll just toughen me up and in the end I’ll know my flaws. 

 As usual (some people are shocked when we move) he’s got the upper hand and can find my flaws and I’ll see them. He’ll warn me not to do something and if I don’t fix it, he’ll (whack) remind me. Fairly to remind me. I tolerate much so some may not appreciate what I’ll tolerate. Also most people who don’t know how Phil or I operate.  

Basically, part of who I am as a fighter is I tolerate strikes to get to my opponent. Most people don’t understand that.  

Gabe a pro-Boxer has watched me a couple times and said, 'You fight like Joe Frazier. Taking five shots to give one good one. Hard way to fight.'

I had a doctor friend say that to me. Others have commented, 'You figure you’ll wear down their fists with your face.' Phil knows where my weaknesses are and we’ll work on them. But we know what my strengths are and so we strengthen them.  

So as time passes this one Thursday in June, I try and shove Phil against the cage and control his then 178 pound body so I can knee him and hopefully get a punch off. As I attempt to knee him, Phil is lifting his leg up and striking my calves with his heels. It’s not a happy feeling.  

As this is occurring Killer Ken Yaeger walks in. He hears me growling and snarling because I know I just made a huge mistake. Phil and I are still non-stop. I’m mad at myself. Killer Ken asks, 'Is that anger I hear?' I respond trying to hold my position (next to impossible, I mean really.)  

I growl and say, 'It’s not anger. It’s RAGE!' I have to keep from laughing.”  

Eric smiled, “I remember those days in the basement.”  

    “So what’s your last name?” 


 I think I knew him all along.---Jody-Lynn Reicher 


Popular posts from this blog

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when

Sledging the Hammer

  "You could have a steam trainIf you'd just lay down your tracks..."---Peter Gabriel's 'Sledgehammer' lyrics. This is not the tune that lay in my mind this morning as I reminisced about yesterday's volunteers to help on trail crew.    However, as I looked up the proper definition of sledging that song popped up. I say sledging, which is my own take on swinging a hammer that we call a "Double Jack". The Single Jack is six pounds. I know that because our regular crew of five including me and one staff supervisor are handling Harriman State Park Trails, and have to carry about four of those, two shaping hammers, along with a hoist, belay bag with heavy equipment, first aid kit, double Jack, three 18lb rock bars, a lopper, three buckets, three eye to eyes, two burlap straps, two green wrapping straps, two pick Mattox, a roe hoe or two, a bar for either the two ton or one ton hoist, the feathers with pegs for splitting rocks that we drill... s

It Follows Me...

One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.