Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thursday, December 11, 2008
WHY AM I DOING THIS..?
I found myself asking why am I writing all this? Well, I am 76 years Old and missing a lung, a gall bladder, tonsils and the cartilage in both knees. I have glasses which I need and hearing aids in both ears and I take about 6 different pills a day to keep everything going. They tell me I should be on oxygen but I put my foot down (gently, of course) there. The tank is sitting on the porch, to please my doctor and my wife, but I don’t use it during the day. However, I do when I sleep at night. I won’t deny that it helps me to prepare for the day. It does. I will know when it is time to make it a full time situation. And I know it is sneaking up on me.
I go through a lot of days shopping, to Art Galleries and art shows, visiting with other artists, dining out and cooking along with other duties around the house. Just normal activities that don’t require too much physical exertion. I get along fine as I have for the almost 16 years since I lost my lung. At this point I must say that my wife does most of the heavy chores around the house. She actually keeps everything going. It is not easy for her, either but we make a pretty good team.
Now, here’s the thing. When I am sitting at the computer or in a chair anywhere and am in my thoughts, I am not 76. I am probably anywhere from 26 to 56. Maybe even 16. I am watching myself walking through Europe or sitting at an outside Café in Naples, Italy or perhaps swimming and sunbathing on the Riviera in Italy or France or fly fishing and camping here in Colorado. And I am doing it effortlessly. I have done all those things effortlessly but I enjoy doing them over and over in my mind.
I know all this writing about myself seems egoistic on my part. However, I think it is somewhat cathartic for me, as one memory ignites another and I am remembering times and instances that I haven’t thought about for years or maybe ever but has been nudged or unearthed by another memory. I realized that I don’t want to lose those memories so I am writing them down. It is that simple. It also comes down to the fact that after my wife and I, there is no one to remember any of this and it is important to me to have been at least a notation. we have no children and I have no relatives living (that are interested, anyway) and I don’t want total anonymity when I breathe my last.
I of course, don’t know how much time I have. I am even truly surprised that I have had this much time. All I have to leave is my story and my paintings and perhaps someone’s memory of me as an acquaintance somewhere along the way. That is not much and I know it. Perhaps that is all any of us have, in the end. Keep in mind that even one small event that is hardly worth noting, to someone else, is part of what I am and who I am at this time. Taking the good along with the bad as that is the way it works. I won’t tell all the bad. Just some.
I go through a lot of days shopping, to Art Galleries and art shows, visiting with other artists, dining out and cooking along with other duties around the house. Just normal activities that don’t require too much physical exertion. I get along fine as I have for the almost 16 years since I lost my lung. At this point I must say that my wife does most of the heavy chores around the house. She actually keeps everything going. It is not easy for her, either but we make a pretty good team.
Now, here’s the thing. When I am sitting at the computer or in a chair anywhere and am in my thoughts, I am not 76. I am probably anywhere from 26 to 56. Maybe even 16. I am watching myself walking through Europe or sitting at an outside Café in Naples, Italy or perhaps swimming and sunbathing on the Riviera in Italy or France or fly fishing and camping here in Colorado. And I am doing it effortlessly. I have done all those things effortlessly but I enjoy doing them over and over in my mind.
I know all this writing about myself seems egoistic on my part. However, I think it is somewhat cathartic for me, as one memory ignites another and I am remembering times and instances that I haven’t thought about for years or maybe ever but has been nudged or unearthed by another memory. I realized that I don’t want to lose those memories so I am writing them down. It is that simple. It also comes down to the fact that after my wife and I, there is no one to remember any of this and it is important to me to have been at least a notation. we have no children and I have no relatives living (that are interested, anyway) and I don’t want total anonymity when I breathe my last.
I of course, don’t know how much time I have. I am even truly surprised that I have had this much time. All I have to leave is my story and my paintings and perhaps someone’s memory of me as an acquaintance somewhere along the way. That is not much and I know it. Perhaps that is all any of us have, in the end. Keep in mind that even one small event that is hardly worth noting, to someone else, is part of what I am and who I am at this time. Taking the good along with the bad as that is the way it works. I won’t tell all the bad. Just some.
MY FINAL LETTER and THOUGHTS (AKA My one-liners)
1. My hands will not be resting on my computer keyboard at work, in my final moments, after all.
2. Wish I had tried harder in the 50yd dash at the Quad city meet when I was 14. I came in
5th
3. Being late is not always bad. When I finally decided to leave Italy for the States, in 1956, I was too late to book passage on the Andrea Doria. It was all booked. Wound up taking a freighter to Norfolk. Remember the Andrea Doria in 1956?
26. Never got to hitch-hike to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina which was one of my goals in life. Only got as far as Beaumont, Texas. That was probably a pretty good thing.
27. Stood in front of the Louvre Museum on a Tuesday in about 1956. They are, of course, closed on Tuesdays. Crap!! I was only there for one day.
28. Drove over the San Bernardino Pass from Italy to Switzerland in a rented Citreon touring car (Shown below) that had the gear shift in the dash in around 1956.
35. Sent off for a Charles Atlas body building course in about 1946 or 1947. Nobody ever
kicked sand in my face after that.
36. My Heroes were Jim Thorpe, Joe Louis and Billy Conn in the early 40’s. And of course, FDR. in the 50’s and 60’s there were many. Paul Newman, Dwight Eddleman, Jackson Pollock, Phillip Wylie, John Kennedy and others. At this writing, I have to include Curtis Hicks and Jack Seeber. They made me realize that one can overcome anything and go on in life. Today, my new hero is Barack Obama. I wish him well and success.
2. Wish I had tried harder in the 50yd dash at the Quad city meet when I was 14. I came in
5th
3. Being late is not always bad. When I finally decided to leave Italy for the States, in 1956, I was too late to book passage on the Andrea Doria. It was all booked. Wound up taking a freighter to Norfolk. Remember the Andrea Doria in 1956?
4. I climbed the tower of Pisa in 1955 and it didn’t fall over.
5. Joined the navy at 17 in March of 1950 and got out in October of 1954. Danced on the bar at
Eddies Western Bar in Boston that night. I was 21 years and 9 months old. Another moment that will never be re-captured. But, I kept trying.
6. Saw my first separate bathroom and drinking fountain for blacks and whites at a bus station in Baltimore, MD in 1951.
7. Witnessed the first black nominee for president of the U.S. in 2008.
8. Hitch-hiked over the Alps from Cannes and Monaco, France to Genoa, Italy in 1955. It was pretty safe back then. Today it hovers between 'a box of chocolates' and 'Russian Roulette'. You never know what you'll get.
9. I got the deepest tan you ever seen during a cruise on the U.S.S. Worcester to Cuba and
Puerto Rico in November of 1953.
10. I drank (too many) Rum and cokes in Guantanamo Bay Cuba in 1953 on a beautiful beach
on a most beautiful day.
11. I went on a rowboat into the Grotto Azzuro (Blue Cave) on the Isle of Capri in 1952.
12. I travelled through France, Germany and Italy selling “Wonderland of Knowledge”
encyclopedias, to Americans living in Europe, for 6 months in 1955. Lived high on the
hog in Germany and almost starved in France.
13. Went back to Italy and Europe when I was 22 yrs old with a small bag and very little money. Hey, I was 22 and, of course, immortal!!
14. Went back to Italy when I was 72 but a little better heeled financially and spent 6 days
walking all over Rome. Shoulda’ stayed for a month!! Crap.
15. Did I mention that I really loved to travel?
16. Kayaked in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of the Isle of Ischia in Italy in 1953 with
a good Navy buddy back then.
17. Worked underground in a copper mine in Calumet, Michigan for a year in 1956 -1957. A year too long.
18. Was a mail carrier in Rock Island, Ill. and Long Beach, Ca. for total of five years from 1958.
19. Worked as a Candy maker in Bettendorf, Iowa when I was 15 till I was 17 before I joined the
Navy in 1950.
20. Worked as a welder, steel fabricator and layout man for about 30 years off and on from 1962 to 1992 in Tulsa Oklahoma, Davenport Iowa, Bonner Springs Kansas, Grand Junction
Colo, Hamilton Montana and all around the Denver area.
21. The navy took me to Dublin Ireland, Toulon France, Nice France, Portsmouth England, Port
Lyautey Morroco, Ponte Delgado Azore Islands, Barcelona Spain, Gander Newfoundland,
Guantanamo bay Cuba, San Juan Puerto Rico and the home port, Boston Mass. and Bar
Harbor, Me.
22. I loaded barges on the Mississippi river for 2 months before they found that I was only 14.
Reluctantly told to leave. Had to be 16 to work there.
23. I was told by my mother, when I was about 6, not to play with my belly button. She said if I
broke the string that my arms and legs would fall off. I believed her until I was about 8.
You wouldn’t believe the lint that was in there by then! 
24. I’ve had 2 convertibles in my life. In 1959, I had a 1958 black Chevrolet with a white top
and blood red interior.
In 1966, I had a cream colored 1964 ford with red interior. Every
one should have had at least one convertible in their life.
26. Never got to hitch-hike to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina which was one of my goals in life. Only got as far as Beaumont, Texas. That was probably a pretty good thing.
27. Stood in front of the Louvre Museum on a Tuesday in about 1956. They are, of course, closed on Tuesdays. Crap!! I was only there for one day.
28. Drove over the San Bernardino Pass from Italy to Switzerland in a rented Citreon touring car (Shown below) that had the gear shift in the dash in around 1956.
29. Rode a train from Italy through Switzerland to Germany. Most beautiful trip of all. Ever! The stuff that post cards are made of.
30. Boxed in the Golden gloves at 16. Not too bad. Boxed in the Navy while in boot camp at Great Lakes Training Center. Won one and tied one. That's me on the left.
31. Went thru Hospital Corps School in Great Lakes near Milwaukee and Chicago and transferred to Quantico, Va. Military hospital and stayed 2 years.
32. Shipped to Naples, Italy in 1952 at a small Naval Infirmary in Afragola, Italy. I stayed 2 years. I was in Heaven. (Again).
33. Worked in a bowling alley in Long beach California as a desk league co-ordinator by day and a bowler by night and slept on the beaches in the early mornings 3 days a week
back when you could actually sleep on the beach, legally.
34. My uncle in Milan, Illinois was a clever and talented man. In about 1947, he took a regular boys bike and mounted a small engine on it, making it into a motor bike. I paid him about 25.00 for it and drove it back and forth to work from Illinois to Iowa for about a year. I don’t remember what happened to it. I also have a memory about his Home Brew. More about all that later.
35. Sent off for a Charles Atlas body building course in about 1946 or 1947. Nobody ever
kicked sand in my face after that.
36. My Heroes were Jim Thorpe, Joe Louis and Billy Conn in the early 40’s. And of course, FDR. in the 50’s and 60’s there were many. Paul Newman, Dwight Eddleman, Jackson Pollock, Phillip Wylie, John Kennedy and others. At this writing, I have to include Curtis Hicks and Jack Seeber. They made me realize that one can overcome anything and go on in life. Today, my new hero is Barack Obama. I wish him well and success.
37. I drank the incredible Pernod Absinthe (or Pastis) in Toulon, France and listened to Lili Marlene being sung by everyone in the bar, in french, of course. I was 20. It was 1953. I knew then I would remember that moment forever. I can still seem to smell the bar rag and the smoke if I really try.
38. In 1952 and 1953 while in Naples, They played the old Neapolitan music in most clubs with just an accordian and a violin. Such as Ole sole mio, Torna Sorrento, Mala Femmena, Anema Core, Ciao Ciao Bambino, Piscatore e Pusilleco, Nel Pinto di Blu and many more. And all that could bring tears to your eyes. Today, you can hardly hear these old songs. It is like here in the U.S. Too loud, too fast and you can't even understand the words. But the world turns, alas..
39. The good thing about being retired is that you get weekdays and weekends off.
40. If you eat lots of fruits and veggies you will eventually die.
41. God, I'm really getting old.
1. The Blue Grotto in the Isle of Capri.
2. The blue translucent sea water around Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. You can almost see
the bottom.
3. The smell of pizza in Naples, Italy for the first time and the old Neapolitan music in the air.
4. Spending a week-end in Santa Maria, Italy with a beautiful girl in 1953. I wish it could have gone on forever. Alas, it was not to be.
5. The final play when the Denver Broncos won the super bowl the first time. WOW..
6. 1945. Walking home from school one afternoon and seeing my dad on the front porch
after 2 years away in the war. I was 12. The world was right again.
7. Standing outside in the clear dark of a night in the hills above Hamilton, Montana and seeing the billions of stars that seem to nearly touch each other. Such as never to be seen living near a city.
8. Winning a “nickel” from my dad on the “Friday night fights” on the radio in the early ‘40’s. I always picked Louis, Marciano, Graziano or Billy Conn. My dad was a prize fighter when he was young.
9. November 4th, 2008. Election night. At 9:00, the election was called and Barack
Obama was Elected the President of the United States. A moment I will remember forever.
FINAL LETTER Part two
43. I have (swam, swum , swammed or swimmed ??) in the Mediterranean sea, the Pacific ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, the Tyrrhenian sea, the Ligurian sea, the Adriatic sea and the Mississippi river and countless filthy canals in and around Rock Island and Milan, Illinois. Also, a pond in Bonner Springs, Kansas.
44. For me, a life is like a book divided into chapters. Each is an adventure and more than likely, never to be regained. Though we try and we try till we are finally too old or too used up. So we just start new chapters.
45. Don’t SMOKE!! Okay, no one listens. I didn’t. Did it for 50 years. Got lung cancer. However, welding for 30 years didn’t help, either. Lost my left lung. Wasn’t any good anyway. Went on with life the best I could. Didn’t smoke or weld any more, though. Learned one thing. Getting
cancer is one way to quit smoking that works. As of December 21st 2008, it will be 15 years.
Not bad years, either. Just slower. Kind of an epilogue or re-run of all my preceding chapters going through my mind. And then I realize it isn’t over. Perhaps, there is one more chapter yet.
46. I was a medical corpsman while in the Navy. I wanted to be a mechanic. They said I wanted
to be a corpsman. They won. Actually, we both won. I really got into it and it became a better
place for me to be in the Navy. Another one of those chapters I’ve mentioned.
47. Had my first beer when 11 years old. First cigarette at 12. Last cigarette at 62. First sex at last!
48. First girlfriend was Shirley B. I was 17. Met her at a drug store counter. She was a waitress. I was on my first leave from boot camp. Wound up sending her a “Dear Shirley” letter from Italy. Mistake # 42 already and I was only 18 years old. Not a good start in life!
49. Had only 3 good friends that mattered in my life. Wayne K., Whom I grew up with and Larry S. whom I spent most of my time in the Navy with and Gloria whom I have spent 40 years with.
50. I should have died at least 3 times in my life:
I once ran my 1964 ford falcon convertible off a slippery road in the rain and hit a telephone pole going about 30. I went through the windshield but not all the way through. 27 stitches and I went home the next morning. Yeah, I had been drinking.
Another time, when I was thirty-something and yeah, I was drinking, I was depressed enough to take a whole bottle of aspirin. Fortunately or unfortunately, I simply spent the entire night
throwing up. The whole long, entire night.
The third time, it was my wrists. Yeah, I was. And that we won’t talk about.
51. I always wanted to be an artist. I have the soul of an artist, I have the heart, I have the desire to be creative and the passion (and I am left-handed), but, alas, perhaps, not the talent.
52. I never went to kindergarten but started school in the first grade. Got sick. Don’t remember what but missed a lot of school and couldn’t read so they kept me another year in first grade. I could read better than the others in my class in that year.
53. I read most of the classics when I was very young. I was a voracious reader in my younger years while growing up. My favorites books were and are “The Grapes of Wrath” by Steinbeck, “Watership Down”by Richard Adams, “The Winter of Our Discontent” by Steinbeck, “Travels with Charley” by Steinbeck, “Lost Horizon” by James Hilton, and anything by Phillip Wylie. Believe it or not, I read "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey" when I was in 6th grade and actually enjoyed them. So many more. Oh yeah, and “Gods Little Acre” by Erskine Caldwell. Whew! That was a keeper.
54. Regrets:
Wish I had learned to speak fluent Italian.
Wish I had seen the Matterhorn in person and up close.
Never got to see inside the Louvre Museum. It was Tuesday and it is closed on Tuesdays.
Wish I had payed more attention to and explored more the places I did get to and the adventures I did have.
I had so much more to see and to experience and it makes me sad sometimes.
Sometimes I wish I had just stayed in the Navy. Sometimes…
Should have taken better care of that 58 Chevy “chick magnet” Convertible.
Wish I’d kept contact with friends I made through the years. Particularly, Wayne K. from Rock Island, Ill., Larry S. from The Dalles, Ore., and a girl from Casagiove, Italy, Gary F. from Rock Island, ILL. Never been good at that.
55. To everyone. Don’t put off. Do it. You will regret it eventually if you don’t. Trust me on this!
56. I really love Limburger cheese. The only problem is that you have to eat all of it fairly quick
because, how do you know when Limburger cheese has turned bad?
57. I had a Beagle in Montana named Heidi. She was the only dog I knew of that would let out
the most stinking farts you have ever encountered and then sulk away in shame when you said something.
58. Perhaps this is related but when I would open some of that limburger cheese I mentioned before, her eyes would get big and her tail would go crazy. We would share a good deal of it together. She was a good doggy but a bad farter.
59. When I was about 9 yrs old, I was bit by a neighbors dog and to be safe, I went through the
Rabies shots. This was in about 1941 0r 1942. Then they gave the series of shots in your stomach. I remember that pain till today. It took my dad, a nurse and a cop to hold me down.
60. Another “Best Lesson” learned. 10 days into boot camp, the company ACPO (acting company Petty officer) gave me an order I couldn’t obey. So I punched him out and wound up in the brig for 3 days on bread and water. I learned then that I could do anything I wanted if I was willing to pay the price. The navy never had another problem with me after that.
61. Cemeteries are peaceful places to slow down in. In Bonner Springs, Kansas I used my Sunday afternoon’s at the cemetery to sit and read and wind down and listen to the quiet.
62. There is no doubt in my mind that if I had another lung and lots of money that I would go
to live in Italy and spend the remaining time traveling until my body gave out. Preferably
right after the money ran out.
63. One of the hardest and dirtiest jobs I ever had was underground in the copper mines in the upper peninsula of Michigan. The Houghton and Hancock area, actually. I worked there one year down in the 2000 foot level. One year too long.
64. Once while on liberty in Toulon, France I walked in a noisy club and sat at the bar and ordered a beer. When I looked up at the mirror, with beer in hand, I saw a topless dancer behind me on a stage. Not unusual? Not today. but this was 1954 and I was 20 and this was the first time for me. I about choked on my beer. But, I recovered and , of course, enjoyed.
44. For me, a life is like a book divided into chapters. Each is an adventure and more than likely, never to be regained. Though we try and we try till we are finally too old or too used up. So we just start new chapters.
45. Don’t SMOKE!! Okay, no one listens. I didn’t. Did it for 50 years. Got lung cancer. However, welding for 30 years didn’t help, either. Lost my left lung. Wasn’t any good anyway. Went on with life the best I could. Didn’t smoke or weld any more, though. Learned one thing. Getting
cancer is one way to quit smoking that works. As of December 21st 2008, it will be 15 years.
Not bad years, either. Just slower. Kind of an epilogue or re-run of all my preceding chapters going through my mind. And then I realize it isn’t over. Perhaps, there is one more chapter yet.
46. I was a medical corpsman while in the Navy. I wanted to be a mechanic. They said I wanted
to be a corpsman. They won. Actually, we both won. I really got into it and it became a better
place for me to be in the Navy. Another one of those chapters I’ve mentioned.
47. Had my first beer when 11 years old. First cigarette at 12. Last cigarette at 62. First sex at last!
48. First girlfriend was Shirley B. I was 17. Met her at a drug store counter. She was a waitress. I was on my first leave from boot camp. Wound up sending her a “Dear Shirley” letter from Italy. Mistake # 42 already and I was only 18 years old. Not a good start in life!
49. Had only 3 good friends that mattered in my life. Wayne K., Whom I grew up with and Larry S. whom I spent most of my time in the Navy with and Gloria whom I have spent 40 years with.
50. I should have died at least 3 times in my life:
I once ran my 1964 ford falcon convertible off a slippery road in the rain and hit a telephone pole going about 30. I went through the windshield but not all the way through. 27 stitches and I went home the next morning. Yeah, I had been drinking.
Another time, when I was thirty-something and yeah, I was drinking, I was depressed enough to take a whole bottle of aspirin. Fortunately or unfortunately, I simply spent the entire night
throwing up. The whole long, entire night.
The third time, it was my wrists. Yeah, I was. And that we won’t talk about.
51. I always wanted to be an artist. I have the soul of an artist, I have the heart, I have the desire to be creative and the passion (and I am left-handed), but, alas, perhaps, not the talent.
52. I never went to kindergarten but started school in the first grade. Got sick. Don’t remember what but missed a lot of school and couldn’t read so they kept me another year in first grade. I could read better than the others in my class in that year.
53. I read most of the classics when I was very young. I was a voracious reader in my younger years while growing up. My favorites books were and are “The Grapes of Wrath” by Steinbeck, “Watership Down”by Richard Adams, “The Winter of Our Discontent” by Steinbeck, “Travels with Charley” by Steinbeck, “Lost Horizon” by James Hilton, and anything by Phillip Wylie. Believe it or not, I read "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey" when I was in 6th grade and actually enjoyed them. So many more. Oh yeah, and “Gods Little Acre” by Erskine Caldwell. Whew! That was a keeper.
54. Regrets:
Wish I had learned to speak fluent Italian.
Wish I had seen the Matterhorn in person and up close.
Never got to see inside the Louvre Museum. It was Tuesday and it is closed on Tuesdays.
Wish I had payed more attention to and explored more the places I did get to and the adventures I did have.
I had so much more to see and to experience and it makes me sad sometimes.
Sometimes I wish I had just stayed in the Navy. Sometimes…
Should have taken better care of that 58 Chevy “chick magnet” Convertible.
Wish I’d kept contact with friends I made through the years. Particularly, Wayne K. from Rock Island, Ill., Larry S. from The Dalles, Ore., and a girl from Casagiove, Italy, Gary F. from Rock Island, ILL. Never been good at that.
55. To everyone. Don’t put off. Do it. You will regret it eventually if you don’t. Trust me on this!
56. I really love Limburger cheese. The only problem is that you have to eat all of it fairly quick
because, how do you know when Limburger cheese has turned bad?
57. I had a Beagle in Montana named Heidi. She was the only dog I knew of that would let out
the most stinking farts you have ever encountered and then sulk away in shame when you said something.
58. Perhaps this is related but when I would open some of that limburger cheese I mentioned before, her eyes would get big and her tail would go crazy. We would share a good deal of it together. She was a good doggy but a bad farter.
59. When I was about 9 yrs old, I was bit by a neighbors dog and to be safe, I went through the
Rabies shots. This was in about 1941 0r 1942. Then they gave the series of shots in your stomach. I remember that pain till today. It took my dad, a nurse and a cop to hold me down.
60. Another “Best Lesson” learned. 10 days into boot camp, the company ACPO (acting company Petty officer) gave me an order I couldn’t obey. So I punched him out and wound up in the brig for 3 days on bread and water. I learned then that I could do anything I wanted if I was willing to pay the price. The navy never had another problem with me after that.
61. Cemeteries are peaceful places to slow down in. In Bonner Springs, Kansas I used my Sunday afternoon’s at the cemetery to sit and read and wind down and listen to the quiet.
62. There is no doubt in my mind that if I had another lung and lots of money that I would go
to live in Italy and spend the remaining time traveling until my body gave out. Preferably
right after the money ran out.
63. One of the hardest and dirtiest jobs I ever had was underground in the copper mines in the upper peninsula of Michigan. The Houghton and Hancock area, actually. I worked there one year down in the 2000 foot level. One year too long.
64. Once while on liberty in Toulon, France I walked in a noisy club and sat at the bar and ordered a beer. When I looked up at the mirror, with beer in hand, I saw a topless dancer behind me on a stage. Not unusual? Not today. but this was 1954 and I was 20 and this was the first time for me. I about choked on my beer. But, I recovered and , of course, enjoyed.
FINALLY, THE FINAL FINAL LETTER..
65. Time to list every type of work I have ever done, if I can remember. Starting at 12 yrs old:
1. Paper routes. Rock Island Argus.
2. Mowed lawns, weeded, trimmed, shoveled walks. I had regular customers all year
round.
3. Worked at Borden’s Dairy making fudgesicles and popsicles for 2 weeks.
4. Collected bottles, lead foil, tin cans, string, newspapers, etc. in my wagon. Sold to
junk yard.
5. Sacked potatoes and bananas and onions, etc at the grocers next door.
6. Loaded barges on the Mississippi for a month when 14. Under age. Got caught.
Fired.
7 Set pins at “Bowladrome” Bowling alley most every night for the leagues. 10 cents a game.
9. Quit school at 15 and got job at Ucanco Candy Co as a candy maker and worked
2 yrs.
10. Joined the U.S.Navy at 17 in March of 1950 and discharged at 21 in November
of 1954.
11. Went to Italy in 1954. Started selling Encyclopedias to American Military in
Italy, France and Germany.
12. Came back. Worked in Hancock, Michigan at a Diner flipping burgers and waited
tables.
13. Went to work in the Copper Mines underground as a miner for a year.
14. Moved to Rock Island and went to work at a Sanitary Service cleaning restrooms.
15. Got a job at the Peterson Paper Co. filling orders in a warehouse.
16. Passed a civil test for the Post Office as a Letter Carrier in Rock Island.
17. Transferred to Long Beach, California Post Office.
18. Worked part time at a Bowling center in Long Beach. I got divorced in here
somewhere.
19. Quit the Post office to work full time at the Bowling center. Yeah! I know.
20. Worked for 3 months at a Cabinet shop and bartended part-time in the evenings.
21. Left California and went to Tulsa and worked at Braden Steel Fabricators for
3 months.
22. Found work at a door fabrication shop for 2 or 3 months.
23. Friend and I started a bakery sales route out of a Bakery which only lasted
3 months. Made a few bucks.
24. I left for Bonner Springs, Kansas and worked at an Underground Storage Center.
25. Quit. Worked at a Steel fabricator company for 1 ½ years and got laid off.
26. Started at a Safeway Cereal Plant in Bonner as a mill worker.
27. Went to Davenport, Iowa and worked at another steel company for nearly a year.
28. Moved to Pueblo, Co. Found a job at a Feed Mill for a few months.
29. Moved to Denver, Co. Worked at a Hotel as a night desk attendant for 6 months.
30. Got a job at Roy Glazier Iron Works and stayed almost a year.
31. Moved to Grand Junction, Co. Got a job at Grand Junction Steel and Stayed for
6 months.
32. Back to Denver and entered the Alcoholic treatment center at Ft. Logan for
3 weeks, finally. this was 1967. From then to the present I worked at the
following Co’s.
33. Found a job at Jeffco Steel Fabricators and stayed about two years and I
learned a trade. Steel Layout using all that geometry that I thought I hated
earlier in life.
34. Went to work for CF&I Iron works as a Layout man for about 2 years.
35. Worked at Card Iron Works as a layout man and steel fabricator.
36. Went to General Cable Corporation as an inspector and moved up to weld
shop foreman after 6 months. I stayed for about 9 months.
37. Hired on as Shop Foreman at Lomax Steel.
38. Started own business making ornamental iron and Small utility trailers in
Hygiene, Co.
39. Went back to Lomax Steel. After one year the business closed down.
40. Moved to Hamilton, Montana and Hired as Maintenance man in Log Home
construction.
41. Went to work at Selway Corporation in Stevensville as layout man and
stayed 2 years.
42. Started my own business in a shop I built and named it “Sleeping Child Welding”. Lasted for about 2 years. Sold the shop.
43. Moved back to Denver in 1982. Found a job in another Steel shop in Arvada.
44. I went to work for Silver Engineering in Aurora and stayed a couple of years.
45. Started at Cleasby Manufacturing and stayed 3 years.
46. Found I had lung cancer. Had lung surgically removed. This was late in 1993.
47. Went to work for Meals on Wheels for a year.
48. Went to Jefferson Center for Mental Health as a van driver and stayed 5 years.
49. Moved to Medical Records at Jefferson Center for Mental Health and stayed
8 more years.
50. Retired at 76 yrs old, finally.
59. Now I paint and write about all the above and below and am realizing how lucky
I have been in my life and my wife and I actually sit and talk and laugh about it all.
60. I said earlier that I had witnessed a black man being nominated for President of the United
States and tonight, the 4th of November, 2008, I watched a black man elected to the
Presidency of the United States. I am proud of this country and the people in it. I am happy to have lived long enough to see this happen.
1. Paper routes. Rock Island Argus.
2. Mowed lawns, weeded, trimmed, shoveled walks. I had regular customers all year
round.
3. Worked at Borden’s Dairy making fudgesicles and popsicles for 2 weeks.
4. Collected bottles, lead foil, tin cans, string, newspapers, etc. in my wagon. Sold to
junk yard.
5. Sacked potatoes and bananas and onions, etc at the grocers next door.
6. Loaded barges on the Mississippi for a month when 14. Under age. Got caught.
Fired.
7 Set pins at “Bowladrome” Bowling alley most every night for the leagues. 10 cents a game.
9. Quit school at 15 and got job at Ucanco Candy Co as a candy maker and worked
2 yrs.
10. Joined the U.S.Navy at 17 in March of 1950 and discharged at 21 in November
of 1954.
11. Went to Italy in 1954. Started selling Encyclopedias to American Military in
Italy, France and Germany.
12. Came back. Worked in Hancock, Michigan at a Diner flipping burgers and waited
tables.
13. Went to work in the Copper Mines underground as a miner for a year.
14. Moved to Rock Island and went to work at a Sanitary Service cleaning restrooms.
15. Got a job at the Peterson Paper Co. filling orders in a warehouse.
16. Passed a civil test for the Post Office as a Letter Carrier in Rock Island.
17. Transferred to Long Beach, California Post Office.
18. Worked part time at a Bowling center in Long Beach. I got divorced in here
somewhere.
19. Quit the Post office to work full time at the Bowling center. Yeah! I know.
20. Worked for 3 months at a Cabinet shop and bartended part-time in the evenings.
21. Left California and went to Tulsa and worked at Braden Steel Fabricators for
3 months.
22. Found work at a door fabrication shop for 2 or 3 months.
23. Friend and I started a bakery sales route out of a Bakery which only lasted
3 months. Made a few bucks.
24. I left for Bonner Springs, Kansas and worked at an Underground Storage Center.
25. Quit. Worked at a Steel fabricator company for 1 ½ years and got laid off.
26. Started at a Safeway Cereal Plant in Bonner as a mill worker.
27. Went to Davenport, Iowa and worked at another steel company for nearly a year.
28. Moved to Pueblo, Co. Found a job at a Feed Mill for a few months.
29. Moved to Denver, Co. Worked at a Hotel as a night desk attendant for 6 months.
30. Got a job at Roy Glazier Iron Works and stayed almost a year.
31. Moved to Grand Junction, Co. Got a job at Grand Junction Steel and Stayed for
6 months.
32. Back to Denver and entered the Alcoholic treatment center at Ft. Logan for
3 weeks, finally. this was 1967. From then to the present I worked at the
following Co’s.
33. Found a job at Jeffco Steel Fabricators and stayed about two years and I
learned a trade. Steel Layout using all that geometry that I thought I hated
earlier in life.
34. Went to work for CF&I Iron works as a Layout man for about 2 years.
35. Worked at Card Iron Works as a layout man and steel fabricator.
36. Went to General Cable Corporation as an inspector and moved up to weld
shop foreman after 6 months. I stayed for about 9 months.
37. Hired on as Shop Foreman at Lomax Steel.
38. Started own business making ornamental iron and Small utility trailers in
Hygiene, Co.
39. Went back to Lomax Steel. After one year the business closed down.
40. Moved to Hamilton, Montana and Hired as Maintenance man in Log Home
construction.
41. Went to work at Selway Corporation in Stevensville as layout man and
stayed 2 years.
42. Started my own business in a shop I built and named it “Sleeping Child Welding”. Lasted for about 2 years. Sold the shop.
43. Moved back to Denver in 1982. Found a job in another Steel shop in Arvada.
44. I went to work for Silver Engineering in Aurora and stayed a couple of years.
45. Started at Cleasby Manufacturing and stayed 3 years.
46. Found I had lung cancer. Had lung surgically removed. This was late in 1993.
47. Went to work for Meals on Wheels for a year.
48. Went to Jefferson Center for Mental Health as a van driver and stayed 5 years.
49. Moved to Medical Records at Jefferson Center for Mental Health and stayed
8 more years.
50. Retired at 76 yrs old, finally.
59. Now I paint and write about all the above and below and am realizing how lucky
I have been in my life and my wife and I actually sit and talk and laugh about it all.
60. I said earlier that I had witnessed a black man being nominated for President of the United
States and tonight, the 4th of November, 2008, I watched a black man elected to the
Presidency of the United States. I am proud of this country and the people in it. I am happy to have lived long enough to see this happen.
A MOST BEAUTIFUL POEM from the NEW YORKER by Stuart Dischell
SHE PUT ON HER LIPSTICK IN THE DARK
I really did meet a blind girl in Paris once.
It was in the garden of a museum,
where I saw her touching the statues.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
It was in the garden of the museum.
I told her I was a thief disguised as a guard.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
She told me she was a student from Grenoble.
I told her I was not a thief disguised as a guard.
We had coffee at the little commissary.
She said she had time till her train to Grenoble.
We talked about our supreme belief in Art.
We had coffee at the little commissary,
then sat on a bench near the foundry.
We talked about our supreme belief in Art.
She leaned her head upon my chest.
We kissed on a bench near the foundry.
I closed my eyes when no one was watching.
She leaned her head upon my chest.
The museum was closing. It was time to part.
I really did meet a blind girl in Paris once.
I never saw her again and she never saw me.
In a garden she touched the statues.
She put on her lipstick in the dark.
I close my eyes when no one was watching.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
The museum was closing. It was time to part.
I never saw her again and she never saw me.
I really did meet a blind girl in Paris once.
It was in the garden of a museum,
where I saw her touching the statues.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
It was in the garden of the museum.
I told her I was a thief disguised as a guard.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
She told me she was a student from Grenoble.
I told her I was not a thief disguised as a guard.
We had coffee at the little commissary.
She said she had time till her train to Grenoble.
We talked about our supreme belief in Art.
We had coffee at the little commissary,
then sat on a bench near the foundry.
We talked about our supreme belief in Art.
She leaned her head upon my chest.
We kissed on a bench near the foundry.
I closed my eyes when no one was watching.
She leaned her head upon my chest.
The museum was closing. It was time to part.
I really did meet a blind girl in Paris once.
I never saw her again and she never saw me.
In a garden she touched the statues.
She put on her lipstick in the dark.
I close my eyes when no one was watching.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
The museum was closing. It was time to part.
I never saw her again and she never saw me.
Monday, December 1, 2008
THE NEIGHBORHOOD..
My name is Billy Peterson but NO one back then called me Billy. To most everyone, I was Pete or Bill. I am 11 years old. I spend a lot of time watching over my 2 half brothers during the day and most nights. They are 4 and 5 years old.
My dad has been away in the army for over a year. Almost 2 years This was during World War 2. Our house is on 7th Ave between 14½ Street and 15th street. We live in the middle of the block. On the corner down the street to the right is Mickey’s Tavern. Next door to us on the right is Lorentzen’s grocery store and next is Licata’s music store and then Mickey’s. To the left is a house that that Chet, the barber owned. His shop was next door to him. Then came the radio repair shop and then Schaums Tavern. And, as if there weren’t enough bars, there was the Spin Inn across the street from Schaums. We have an alley directly behind our house. Actually, 2 alleys. One is parallel to our backyard and another joins it behind our house making an “L” shape going up to 9th ave. The alley was also our playground. Mom spent a lot of time at Schaums tavern or at one of the others as a waitress or bar-maid or as a customer.
I spent as much time as I can up the street or alley where some of my friends lived. We had a garage, which we called the barn. We had found some old couches and chairs that probably were meant for throwing away. We pretty much hung out there a lot. Some times I slept there to avoid going home. There was Wayne, Earl, Harold, another Harold, Gene, Tom, Sonny and others at different times. Wayne was my best friend. One of probably two in my whole life. The other was Larry S. who I met in the Navy, later. Larry and I spent most of the time together in the Navy from Corps school in Great Lakes and to Quantico Naval Hospital and to Naples, Italy.
I could always buy beer at one of the taverns. I just told them that it was for my mom. So, we had beer at the barn whenever we wanted. We were all either 13 or 14, at the time except Harold. He was 15.
Harold had an older brother that had a “hot rod” he and another friend had built from scratch. It was a Ford coupe with a rumble seat in the back and was missing the back window. A souped up engine with Motorcycle fenders over the front wheels that turned with the wheels and the whole car was painted “robin egg” blue. The engine hood was off and the engine was painted bright red. Whenever he took it out on the streets, he would get tickets for no reason, probably, except it looked like it deserved one. It was fast and noisy. Harold’s brother worked the graveyard shift so, occasionally we would back it out of the garage and Harold would start it by rolling it down the alley. Then we would jump in,two in the rumble seat and two in the front, and take off. Usually we went out to Airport Road and hit the apple cider stands and buy a gallon jug of hard apple cider which we would pass back and forth through the open window. Now if you have ever drank much apple cider, you know that it makes you piss a lot which meant that about every half mile, we would have to stop for a piss call. But, they were great times. I don’t know if Harold’s brother ever knew but I suspect he did.
I learned the best lesson of my life when I was about 7 or 8 years old. My mother sent me next door to lorentzens grocery store one day to pick up a few things she had on a list. I gave the list to the clerk and while he was putting it together, I walked around the store and at some point I picked up an apple and innocently put it in my pocket. When I got home with the groceries I began eating the apple. My mother asked me where I got the apple. I told her and she told me ‘that is stealing’. She told me to take it back to the store and tell them what I did. I remember crying when I showed them the half-eaten apple and they, of course, played it up as stealing but they would let it go this time. The lesson stuck with me the rest of my years.
My dad has been away in the army for over a year. Almost 2 years This was during World War 2. Our house is on 7th Ave between 14½ Street and 15th street. We live in the middle of the block. On the corner down the street to the right is Mickey’s Tavern. Next door to us on the right is Lorentzen’s grocery store and next is Licata’s music store and then Mickey’s. To the left is a house that that Chet, the barber owned. His shop was next door to him. Then came the radio repair shop and then Schaums Tavern. And, as if there weren’t enough bars, there was the Spin Inn across the street from Schaums. We have an alley directly behind our house. Actually, 2 alleys. One is parallel to our backyard and another joins it behind our house making an “L” shape going up to 9th ave. The alley was also our playground. Mom spent a lot of time at Schaums tavern or at one of the others as a waitress or bar-maid or as a customer.
I spent as much time as I can up the street or alley where some of my friends lived. We had a garage, which we called the barn. We had found some old couches and chairs that probably were meant for throwing away. We pretty much hung out there a lot. Some times I slept there to avoid going home. There was Wayne, Earl, Harold, another Harold, Gene, Tom, Sonny and others at different times. Wayne was my best friend. One of probably two in my whole life. The other was Larry S. who I met in the Navy, later. Larry and I spent most of the time together in the Navy from Corps school in Great Lakes and to Quantico Naval Hospital and to Naples, Italy.
I could always buy beer at one of the taverns. I just told them that it was for my mom. So, we had beer at the barn whenever we wanted. We were all either 13 or 14, at the time except Harold. He was 15.
Harold had an older brother that had a “hot rod” he and another friend had built from scratch. It was a Ford coupe with a rumble seat in the back and was missing the back window. A souped up engine with Motorcycle fenders over the front wheels that turned with the wheels and the whole car was painted “robin egg” blue. The engine hood was off and the engine was painted bright red. Whenever he took it out on the streets, he would get tickets for no reason, probably, except it looked like it deserved one. It was fast and noisy. Harold’s brother worked the graveyard shift so, occasionally we would back it out of the garage and Harold would start it by rolling it down the alley. Then we would jump in,two in the rumble seat and two in the front, and take off. Usually we went out to Airport Road and hit the apple cider stands and buy a gallon jug of hard apple cider which we would pass back and forth through the open window. Now if you have ever drank much apple cider, you know that it makes you piss a lot which meant that about every half mile, we would have to stop for a piss call. But, they were great times. I don’t know if Harold’s brother ever knew but I suspect he did.
I learned the best lesson of my life when I was about 7 or 8 years old. My mother sent me next door to lorentzens grocery store one day to pick up a few things she had on a list. I gave the list to the clerk and while he was putting it together, I walked around the store and at some point I picked up an apple and innocently put it in my pocket. When I got home with the groceries I began eating the apple. My mother asked me where I got the apple. I told her and she told me ‘that is stealing’. She told me to take it back to the store and tell them what I did. I remember crying when I showed them the half-eaten apple and they, of course, played it up as stealing but they would let it go this time. The lesson stuck with me the rest of my years.
THE BEGINNING..
Rock Island, Illinois was a nice small town in the 40’s and 50’s. I lived here for 17 years and 3 months before I joined the Navy in March of 1950.
There were a lot of us kids about the same age living up and down 14 ½ street for a stretch of three blocks. This is looking up the street in the picture to the left. I wouldn’t call us a gang but we did get a little out of hand, at times. We played football and softball on this street. We fought and played on this street. It was our street. Cars learned early on not to come up or down this street unless they lived here.
This was an all white neighborhood. The “colored”, as we called them then, lived from 11th street on down to first street. Some whites lived there too but the colored did not come up past 11th street. Everyone said that it was not safe to go down to 9th street after dark, which was full of bars and kind of wild at night, but I did and never had any problems. There was a 4 lane bowling alley there and I made a little money setting pins at night.
We never had any colored play ball with us. Not really a rule but it just never happened. I had one colored friend named Roy Q. We usually walked to school as he would go by my house every morning anyway. At first he used to knock on my door but after a couple times, my mom got really mad. She said she didn’t want that ‘nigger’ knocking on her door. Some of the neighbors might see him. So, I usually waited outside for him. We both played sports at school. He was the fastest kid I ever saw but he was too lazy or perhaps afraid to go out for track because he was colored. I was the fastest kid at central junior high in the 50 yard dash and the 100 yard dash but I knew Roy was faster because off the track, I could never beat him. He would run, while looking backwards, just fast enough for me not to catch him. He was also a thief. He was always showing me comic books and other things he would steal from Larson’s soda fountain and Walgreens drug store. He never really had a chance. His two older brothers were already in prison. He just did what he knew. Eventually we drifted apart without realizing it. But we were friends for while there and I am glad for that. This was in the early 1940’s.
I never understood completely why the colored couldn’t live past 11th street. I knew there was some segregation in those days but it never bothered me much. In fact, I don’t believe I really knew what Segregation meant back then. It was just a way of life. It was not until I joined the navy and eventually wound up at Quantico, Va. One day I went on liberty to Baltimore, Maryland and for the first time, when I got off the bus, I saw white and colored toilets and colored and white drinking fountains. Here I was 18 at that time and never knew this was the way it was in much of the country. But I learned fast.
There were a lot of us kids about the same age living up and down 14 ½ street for a stretch of three blocks. This is looking up the street in the picture to the left. I wouldn’t call us a gang but we did get a little out of hand, at times. We played football and softball on this street. We fought and played on this street. It was our street. Cars learned early on not to come up or down this street unless they lived here.
This was an all white neighborhood. The “colored”, as we called them then, lived from 11th street on down to first street. Some whites lived there too but the colored did not come up past 11th street. Everyone said that it was not safe to go down to 9th street after dark, which was full of bars and kind of wild at night, but I did and never had any problems. There was a 4 lane bowling alley there and I made a little money setting pins at night.
We never had any colored play ball with us. Not really a rule but it just never happened. I had one colored friend named Roy Q. We usually walked to school as he would go by my house every morning anyway. At first he used to knock on my door but after a couple times, my mom got really mad. She said she didn’t want that ‘nigger’ knocking on her door. Some of the neighbors might see him. So, I usually waited outside for him. We both played sports at school. He was the fastest kid I ever saw but he was too lazy or perhaps afraid to go out for track because he was colored. I was the fastest kid at central junior high in the 50 yard dash and the 100 yard dash but I knew Roy was faster because off the track, I could never beat him. He would run, while looking backwards, just fast enough for me not to catch him. He was also a thief. He was always showing me comic books and other things he would steal from Larson’s soda fountain and Walgreens drug store. He never really had a chance. His two older brothers were already in prison. He just did what he knew. Eventually we drifted apart without realizing it. But we were friends for while there and I am glad for that. This was in the early 1940’s.
I never understood completely why the colored couldn’t live past 11th street. I knew there was some segregation in those days but it never bothered me much. In fact, I don’t believe I really knew what Segregation meant back then. It was just a way of life. It was not until I joined the navy and eventually wound up at Quantico, Va. One day I went on liberty to Baltimore, Maryland and for the first time, when I got off the bus, I saw white and colored toilets and colored and white drinking fountains. Here I was 18 at that time and never knew this was the way it was in much of the country. But I learned fast.
SO MANY BARS..SO LITTLE TIME...
Somewhere along the line here, because of my time spent in many bars and clubs throughout Europe and America, I must speak of the favorites or most memorable and there were a few. This may take a while!
For somewhere to start I will pick a Bar in, I think Los Angeles or nearby, that had an large open Bar-B-Q pit in the middle of the floor. This was in the 60’s. You could go up to the bar and buy a 1 inch thick raw steak for a dollar and take it to the grill and cook it yourself. There was a bean salad bar which was free with the steak. This would never be allowed today because of the health department laws, I’m pretty sure but back then it was quite a place to hangout. I could eat 2 of them some nights. It was a good sized bar and was always full. They had live music on Friday nights. I spent a fair amount of time there. Met a lot of people. Drank a couple beers.
When I was close to being discharged I was stationed aboard the U.S.S. Worcester whose home port was Boston, Mass. My favorite bar there was Eddies Western Bar. There was an Eddie and he ran the place pretty much himself save for a couple bar maids. He was exactly as you might picture him. Short stocky with a cigar constantly between his lips. I have never felt more at home in any bar anywhere as I did there. It was a typical sailors bar and mostly the Worcester’s bar. It was here where I saw and was involved in my first and only ‘bar-room fight’. It all started when a bunch of bikers came in. Not pretty but an experience.
There were the usual girl hanger-ons that would be there when their ‘boyfriends’ ship was in port and more than likely when it wasn’t, also. It was where I spent my discharge party on October 27th, 1954. Eddie done it up right for me. Before the night was over I had been dancing on the bar, so they told me. He was one of my most memorable people. I left for home in Illinois the next morning.
In Naples, Italy in 1952 there was the ‘Kit Kat Club. It was located down some stairs just below the Galleria Umberto. It was a typical smoke filled club that was awash with Marines, Sailors and prostitutes. You could have just about anything you wanted simply by asking. It was, understandably, frequently patrolled by the MP’s for the protection of everyone. What I really liked about it was the music. There was an accordionist and a violinist that played all the old Italian music. I can close my eyes at times and smell the smoke and the Peroni beer and hear the music and the smells of the cheap perfume and feel the camaraderie we had with friends. Life was not to be taken serious in those days. Just enjoy the moments.
Another bar in, 1952, was a very small but memorable place called ‘Boston Blackie’s’. What was memorable was Boston Blackie himself. A Huge man with the constant cigar and a tremendous stomach but carried himself well enough that you knew better to give him his berth. He was a money changer and a black market dealer. I’m sure he was connected with the Mafia in those days. The bar was located just off the port entry. The first bar the sailors saw when they entered Naples from the ship. They would generally have American dollars or ‘script’ which was what the navy paid us in. It was pretty much accepted most places in Naples but they preferred the American dollars. Blackie would convert your money however you needed. He always made money no matter which direction you traded your money or script or Lire.. Back then the Italian currency was the Lira. You could sell cigarettes on the black market. We could buy a carton for ninety cents at the ships store and sell them for 1500 or 2000 lire which was 2.40 or 3.20 American dollars. We were allowed 3 cartons every two weeks so it gave us some extra spending money. You had to go to Boston Blackie’s at least once in your stay while berthed in Naples. I was stationed there so I knew what I was getting into.
In Toulon, France there was a place that I visited while on Liberty from the U.S.S. Worcester in 1954. I was alone for some reason, which was rare. I remember hearing some beautiful French music and singing and decided to go in. It was right out of a French movie or a painting. There were other sailors there scattered around. A short bar and many small round tables that were mostly full. In the corner was a small stage area where a girl was singing. No mike was needed as it was a fairly small place. Within minutes I was talking with a older gentleman on one side and a ‘girl of the night’ on the other side at the bar. I had my first Absinthe there followed by a few more. Not too many as I was savoring the night. Smoke in the air along with the songs like ‘Lili Marlene’ and many other French songs I didn’t know. The whole crowd would join in spontaneously with the singing. A beautiful long moment in time and I never have forgotten it.
In 1953 or 1954, while still in the Navy and stationed in Italy, my friend Larry S. and I went to the Isle of Ischia, just off the Bay of Naples. It was an Island less travelled by tourists unlike The Isle of Capri. We rented a hotel room on the beach where we spent 5 days laying on the beach and eating good food and kayaking in the clear blue water most every day. That was the only time in my life that I ever wore an Hawaiian shirt. We met a couple girls on the second day in town. We kayaked alone but spent most of the other time with them.
On the 4th evening they wanted to go to a club called the “Monkey Bars”. I expected a typical bar like most of Ischia had but We were taken aback by the sheer beauty of the place from the entrance clear through the entire club. The entrance was an opening similar to walking into a cave. An actual tunnel that led into a huge open room that had a tree in the center of the room that poked up thru an opening in the ceiling. It would closely resemble being in a volcano and looking up thru the opening. In fact, It was shaped as a volcano in the inside. Around the Tree was a circular marble platform about15 or 20 ft in diameter. That was the dance floor. Behind it was an Italian orchestra that played dance music thru the night. They were really good and played mostly the old Napolitano music that I love so well. I danced a couple times but rather wanted to sit and soak up the atmosphere and people watch. It was too classy for my taste to drink beer so I drank Black Russians. Actually way too many. Larry and his girl went back to the Hotel but I really couldn’t pull myself away. All the tables were full and it was a people watchers dream. I soaked it all up. We were in Uniform so it served as a suit which was the dress code form what I could gather.
I have searched the internet for that place since but I can not find it or any reference to it. I had a lot of black Russians but that was early on so it was not an imagination. I know I was there. I can find no one that has heard of it.
There were more places but I will have to return as I remember them.
For somewhere to start I will pick a Bar in, I think Los Angeles or nearby, that had an large open Bar-B-Q pit in the middle of the floor. This was in the 60’s. You could go up to the bar and buy a 1 inch thick raw steak for a dollar and take it to the grill and cook it yourself. There was a bean salad bar which was free with the steak. This would never be allowed today because of the health department laws, I’m pretty sure but back then it was quite a place to hangout. I could eat 2 of them some nights. It was a good sized bar and was always full. They had live music on Friday nights. I spent a fair amount of time there. Met a lot of people. Drank a couple beers.
When I was close to being discharged I was stationed aboard the U.S.S. Worcester whose home port was Boston, Mass. My favorite bar there was Eddies Western Bar. There was an Eddie and he ran the place pretty much himself save for a couple bar maids. He was exactly as you might picture him. Short stocky with a cigar constantly between his lips. I have never felt more at home in any bar anywhere as I did there. It was a typical sailors bar and mostly the Worcester’s bar. It was here where I saw and was involved in my first and only ‘bar-room fight’. It all started when a bunch of bikers came in. Not pretty but an experience.
There were the usual girl hanger-ons that would be there when their ‘boyfriends’ ship was in port and more than likely when it wasn’t, also. It was where I spent my discharge party on October 27th, 1954. Eddie done it up right for me. Before the night was over I had been dancing on the bar, so they told me. He was one of my most memorable people. I left for home in Illinois the next morning.
In Naples, Italy in 1952 there was the ‘Kit Kat Club. It was located down some stairs just below the Galleria Umberto. It was a typical smoke filled club that was awash with Marines, Sailors and prostitutes. You could have just about anything you wanted simply by asking. It was, understandably, frequently patrolled by the MP’s for the protection of everyone. What I really liked about it was the music. There was an accordionist and a violinist that played all the old Italian music. I can close my eyes at times and smell the smoke and the Peroni beer and hear the music and the smells of the cheap perfume and feel the camaraderie we had with friends. Life was not to be taken serious in those days. Just enjoy the moments.
Another bar in, 1952, was a very small but memorable place called ‘Boston Blackie’s’. What was memorable was Boston Blackie himself. A Huge man with the constant cigar and a tremendous stomach but carried himself well enough that you knew better to give him his berth. He was a money changer and a black market dealer. I’m sure he was connected with the Mafia in those days. The bar was located just off the port entry. The first bar the sailors saw when they entered Naples from the ship. They would generally have American dollars or ‘script’ which was what the navy paid us in. It was pretty much accepted most places in Naples but they preferred the American dollars. Blackie would convert your money however you needed. He always made money no matter which direction you traded your money or script or Lire.. Back then the Italian currency was the Lira. You could sell cigarettes on the black market. We could buy a carton for ninety cents at the ships store and sell them for 1500 or 2000 lire which was 2.40 or 3.20 American dollars. We were allowed 3 cartons every two weeks so it gave us some extra spending money. You had to go to Boston Blackie’s at least once in your stay while berthed in Naples. I was stationed there so I knew what I was getting into.
In Toulon, France there was a place that I visited while on Liberty from the U.S.S. Worcester in 1954. I was alone for some reason, which was rare. I remember hearing some beautiful French music and singing and decided to go in. It was right out of a French movie or a painting. There were other sailors there scattered around. A short bar and many small round tables that were mostly full. In the corner was a small stage area where a girl was singing. No mike was needed as it was a fairly small place. Within minutes I was talking with a older gentleman on one side and a ‘girl of the night’ on the other side at the bar. I had my first Absinthe there followed by a few more. Not too many as I was savoring the night. Smoke in the air along with the songs like ‘Lili Marlene’ and many other French songs I didn’t know. The whole crowd would join in spontaneously with the singing. A beautiful long moment in time and I never have forgotten it.
In 1953 or 1954, while still in the Navy and stationed in Italy, my friend Larry S. and I went to the Isle of Ischia, just off the Bay of Naples. It was an Island less travelled by tourists unlike The Isle of Capri. We rented a hotel room on the beach where we spent 5 days laying on the beach and eating good food and kayaking in the clear blue water most every day. That was the only time in my life that I ever wore an Hawaiian shirt. We met a couple girls on the second day in town. We kayaked alone but spent most of the other time with them.
On the 4th evening they wanted to go to a club called the “Monkey Bars”. I expected a typical bar like most of Ischia had but We were taken aback by the sheer beauty of the place from the entrance clear through the entire club. The entrance was an opening similar to walking into a cave. An actual tunnel that led into a huge open room that had a tree in the center of the room that poked up thru an opening in the ceiling. It would closely resemble being in a volcano and looking up thru the opening. In fact, It was shaped as a volcano in the inside. Around the Tree was a circular marble platform about15 or 20 ft in diameter. That was the dance floor. Behind it was an Italian orchestra that played dance music thru the night. They were really good and played mostly the old Napolitano music that I love so well. I danced a couple times but rather wanted to sit and soak up the atmosphere and people watch. It was too classy for my taste to drink beer so I drank Black Russians. Actually way too many. Larry and his girl went back to the Hotel but I really couldn’t pull myself away. All the tables were full and it was a people watchers dream. I soaked it all up. We were in Uniform so it served as a suit which was the dress code form what I could gather.
I have searched the internet for that place since but I can not find it or any reference to it. I had a lot of black Russians but that was early on so it was not an imagination. I know I was there. I can find no one that has heard of it.
There were more places but I will have to return as I remember them.
READING and WANDERLUST..
I really believe that all the reading I did when I was young is what gave me the urge to travel. Even in my pre-teens and my teens I yearned to see all those places far away that I read about. I read the Odyssey and the Iliad and their travels and adventures when I was very young. When you live in a small town and read books about those faraway places that exist only on a map you begin to see that your city is but a mere dot on a globe. So much more to be seen.
Incidentally, when I was in the sixth grade at Irving grade school, they had a carnival event one Halloween evening. Each room had something special to offer and my home room teacher was the ‘palm reader’ and ‘psychic’. There were me and my two buddies together and when she read my palm she ‘seriously’ told me that I “would do a lot of traveling in my life”. We all laughed and went on but I always remembered that moment as I moved through life because I really did do a lot of traveling. In fact, I would have surely been drafted into the Army when I turned 18, which is why I joined the Navy when I was 17 to “See the world”, as they said. Well, I haven’t seen the world but more of it than a lot of people have. However, not enough for my thirst.
Incidentally, when I was in the sixth grade at Irving grade school, they had a carnival event one Halloween evening. Each room had something special to offer and my home room teacher was the ‘palm reader’ and ‘psychic’. There were me and my two buddies together and when she read my palm she ‘seriously’ told me that I “would do a lot of traveling in my life”. We all laughed and went on but I always remembered that moment as I moved through life because I really did do a lot of traveling. In fact, I would have surely been drafted into the Army when I turned 18, which is why I joined the Navy when I was 17 to “See the world”, as they said. Well, I haven’t seen the world but more of it than a lot of people have. However, not enough for my thirst.
MORE TRAVELIN' TRAVAILS...
Once, in my travels in Europe about 1955, I was in Orleans, France selling the “Wonderland of Knowledge” encyclopedia for a company based in Chicago.
We sold mostly to American Military families. We, the sales crew of four, had come from Germany where Americans were practically wall to wall. Many hi-rise apartment buildings leased mostly to American military and were all over the larger cities in Germany. We went thru them like a knife thru butter. But we got jerked back to reality here in France. Most military families were scattered around the city. We had to canvass during the day and sell in the evening. We didn’t make much money and eventually, after a couple weeks, the others sort of drifted out of Orleans. I stayed as I couldn’t pay the hotel bill. I tried to find more Americans but, except for a couple of sales, I too had to give it up.
One evening I snuck out of the hotel without paying as I decided I needed all the money I had, at the time. I started hitch-hiking towards the south of France. Actually down to Cannes and Nice. Eventually I got to Nice and spent some time eating and walking along the Riviera. It was beautiful there so I took my time sitting occasionally to watch the people on the beach. The beautiful girls especially. Eventually I started walking up the hill on the highway going past Monaco on the left. It was really impressive but I knew I couldn’t even afford to walk in. You could even smell the money.
I would stick my thumb out when a car would come by and there were a lot that went by. I had walked a good deal when a small sport car with the top down stopped. They were a fairly young English couple that were on their way to San Remo. I got in the back seat and enjoyed the temporary feel of elegance. A memorable moment but it was short lived as San Remo was not that far up the road. They let me out on the highway. Eventually, after walking a really long way up over the Maritime Alps, I got another ride that was going as far as Imperia, Italy.
It was getting to be about two hours or so from the end of daylight so I went into a small café to rest and regroup.
I went to the bar and ordered a Peroni beer. After I paid, I sat down in a booth across from the bar. There were only four young guys standing around a pinball machine in the corner. I finished the beer and ordered another one. When I went to pay, He charged me more than the first one and, stupidly, I asked him why. Keep in mind, I was speaking what Italian I could which wasn’t too bad. He said that ‘a drink in the booth cost more because of the service’. I said ok and I sat down. He asked me ‘if I was American’ and sensing something I said ‘no’. I was “Inglese”. I don’t think he believed me. As I sat there I noticed he walked over to the young men and they were in a quiet conversation. Shortly after, the four went outside rather casually. I had a feeling there was something going on so I decided to change into my tennis shoes. I only had this little handbag which held everything I owned, which wasn’t much. Eventually, I had to leave so I slowly got up and walked toward the door. A few steps out the door and I knew I was right. A car started up and started to bear down on me. Now, I really believe that if I was timed at that moment, I would have set some kind of speed record. I ran like I had never run before as I am sure that the least they would have done would to have beat me to a pulp. There was a downhill road off to the right that went to a small train station not far away. How I got there ahead of them is a wonder but I did and ran inside and didn’t even hesitate running inside the ticket office and tried to tell the clerk in the best Italian I could what had happened. We heard the guys outside yelling and he saw the fear which I am sure I showed. He told them to leave and after a while they quieted down. I don’t know if they left and I was even afraid to go out in the waiting room right away so he told me to just sit down in a chair nearby.
I decided to buy a ticket to Genoa, the next largest city on the way. It arrived soon after and he went out with me to reassure that they were not still out there. It could very well be that he saved my life that night. The train finally left and I was never so relieved in my life to leave a town. I was safe. I only learned later that the town of Imperia was a very communist town and really felt contempt for Americans. Not exactly a Tourist Stop.
We sold mostly to American Military families. We, the sales crew of four, had come from Germany where Americans were practically wall to wall. Many hi-rise apartment buildings leased mostly to American military and were all over the larger cities in Germany. We went thru them like a knife thru butter. But we got jerked back to reality here in France. Most military families were scattered around the city. We had to canvass during the day and sell in the evening. We didn’t make much money and eventually, after a couple weeks, the others sort of drifted out of Orleans. I stayed as I couldn’t pay the hotel bill. I tried to find more Americans but, except for a couple of sales, I too had to give it up.
One evening I snuck out of the hotel without paying as I decided I needed all the money I had, at the time. I started hitch-hiking towards the south of France. Actually down to Cannes and Nice. Eventually I got to Nice and spent some time eating and walking along the Riviera. It was beautiful there so I took my time sitting occasionally to watch the people on the beach. The beautiful girls especially. Eventually I started walking up the hill on the highway going past Monaco on the left. It was really impressive but I knew I couldn’t even afford to walk in. You could even smell the money.
I would stick my thumb out when a car would come by and there were a lot that went by. I had walked a good deal when a small sport car with the top down stopped. They were a fairly young English couple that were on their way to San Remo. I got in the back seat and enjoyed the temporary feel of elegance. A memorable moment but it was short lived as San Remo was not that far up the road. They let me out on the highway. Eventually, after walking a really long way up over the Maritime Alps, I got another ride that was going as far as Imperia, Italy.
It was getting to be about two hours or so from the end of daylight so I went into a small café to rest and regroup.
I went to the bar and ordered a Peroni beer. After I paid, I sat down in a booth across from the bar. There were only four young guys standing around a pinball machine in the corner. I finished the beer and ordered another one. When I went to pay, He charged me more than the first one and, stupidly, I asked him why. Keep in mind, I was speaking what Italian I could which wasn’t too bad. He said that ‘a drink in the booth cost more because of the service’. I said ok and I sat down. He asked me ‘if I was American’ and sensing something I said ‘no’. I was “Inglese”. I don’t think he believed me. As I sat there I noticed he walked over to the young men and they were in a quiet conversation. Shortly after, the four went outside rather casually. I had a feeling there was something going on so I decided to change into my tennis shoes. I only had this little handbag which held everything I owned, which wasn’t much. Eventually, I had to leave so I slowly got up and walked toward the door. A few steps out the door and I knew I was right. A car started up and started to bear down on me. Now, I really believe that if I was timed at that moment, I would have set some kind of speed record. I ran like I had never run before as I am sure that the least they would have done would to have beat me to a pulp. There was a downhill road off to the right that went to a small train station not far away. How I got there ahead of them is a wonder but I did and ran inside and didn’t even hesitate running inside the ticket office and tried to tell the clerk in the best Italian I could what had happened. We heard the guys outside yelling and he saw the fear which I am sure I showed. He told them to leave and after a while they quieted down. I don’t know if they left and I was even afraid to go out in the waiting room right away so he told me to just sit down in a chair nearby.
I decided to buy a ticket to Genoa, the next largest city on the way. It arrived soon after and he went out with me to reassure that they were not still out there. It could very well be that he saved my life that night. The train finally left and I was never so relieved in my life to leave a town. I was safe. I only learned later that the town of Imperia was a very communist town and really felt contempt for Americans. Not exactly a Tourist Stop.
A MARRIAGE THAT WASN’T...
or the best laid plans of mice….
When I left Michigan for Italy I had planned that we would get married and Angelina would get her passport and we would depart for the promised land at the most within 3 or 4 weeks.
That was the plan but of course, maybe not a good one. The first thing that went wrong was due to a ‘stupid’ Doctor at the American Embassy, there was a hold on her passport. There was a physical that Angelina had to pass which included a chest X-Ray. I don’t believe it to this day but that Doctor claimed that there was a ‘spot’ on her x-ray that had to be “evaluated”. There was not an open arms policy that welcomed Americans marrying foreigners by any means. I didn’t have the money or the standing to have a voice about this. At any rate, there was an obstacle that had put things on hold.
We went back to Casagiove and her parents home. Her father was a wonderful old gentleman whom I got along very well with as well as her sister and 2 brothers. It went well for a little while but the money was running out quickly. There wasn’t much to begin with. There is an American monthly paper that is distributed throughout Italy. In the last issue was an ad for employment that required English. “No experience Necessary”. So far so good. Any applicants had to go to Livorno, Italy to apply. With no other options available I decided to try it out. Things between Angelina were not great anyway. I found that she had a boyfriend while I was gone and evidently he was still around after I came back and even after we were married. It would be better for both of us if we separated for a while.
I got the job. It was selling Encyclopedia’s to American military all around Europe. There were teams of several, 4 to 6 salesmen, that would go into a town or city and would seek out (canvass) buildings that housed Americans during the day and went in the evening to sell. It turned out to be pleasingly challenging and a lot of the guys were just like me. Traveling around Europe and trying to hang on. There was Boris from England who fancied himself a Poet. He talked like someone out of a Shakespearian play who was never off the stage. Pleasant guy who really loved women. All women. And there was Mark who had come from America through Caracas, Venezuela. He was a Geologist working in Caracas until someone, more than fairly important, found him with his wife and he decided Italy would be a nice change of pace. I liked him. He introduced me to a lot of things. Aperitifs, French foods, philosophy and Philip Wylie’s books. Because of Mark I read and enjoyed a few of Wylie’s books such as An ‘Essay on Morals’, ‘Generation of Vipers’ and my favorite ‘Finnley Wren: His Notions and Opinions’. He could talk for hours and I hung on almost every word. He had been formerly educated, which I had not, and street educated which I was, a little. There were others but rather non descript. Just guys trying to make a living.
While we were in Kaiserslautern, Germany some of us stayed in the Hotel Kaiserhauf. It was there that I met a very beautiful blond girl named Kitty. She was from Belgium and spoke 5 languages. Flemish, Spanish, English, French and German. She was amazing. She looked a lot like May Britt of the movies in the 50’s. When she found out what work we were doing she wanted to try it. Our manager, Nicholas, said why not so I more or less trained her on the ‘pitch’ we used. She did pretty good. In Germany we all made good sales. There were American military everywhere in hi-rise apartment buildings in all the larger cities. A lot of them with children. It was good times. We ate in the best restaurants and drank the best wines.
And then we went to France. Not all of us. Just Mark and a guy named Jules. Kitty and I had lost interest in each other by that time.
When I left Michigan for Italy I had planned that we would get married and Angelina would get her passport and we would depart for the promised land at the most within 3 or 4 weeks.
That was the plan but of course, maybe not a good one. The first thing that went wrong was due to a ‘stupid’ Doctor at the American Embassy, there was a hold on her passport. There was a physical that Angelina had to pass which included a chest X-Ray. I don’t believe it to this day but that Doctor claimed that there was a ‘spot’ on her x-ray that had to be “evaluated”. There was not an open arms policy that welcomed Americans marrying foreigners by any means. I didn’t have the money or the standing to have a voice about this. At any rate, there was an obstacle that had put things on hold.
We went back to Casagiove and her parents home. Her father was a wonderful old gentleman whom I got along very well with as well as her sister and 2 brothers. It went well for a little while but the money was running out quickly. There wasn’t much to begin with. There is an American monthly paper that is distributed throughout Italy. In the last issue was an ad for employment that required English. “No experience Necessary”. So far so good. Any applicants had to go to Livorno, Italy to apply. With no other options available I decided to try it out. Things between Angelina were not great anyway. I found that she had a boyfriend while I was gone and evidently he was still around after I came back and even after we were married. It would be better for both of us if we separated for a while.
I got the job. It was selling Encyclopedia’s to American military all around Europe. There were teams of several, 4 to 6 salesmen, that would go into a town or city and would seek out (canvass) buildings that housed Americans during the day and went in the evening to sell. It turned out to be pleasingly challenging and a lot of the guys were just like me. Traveling around Europe and trying to hang on. There was Boris from England who fancied himself a Poet. He talked like someone out of a Shakespearian play who was never off the stage. Pleasant guy who really loved women. All women. And there was Mark who had come from America through Caracas, Venezuela. He was a Geologist working in Caracas until someone, more than fairly important, found him with his wife and he decided Italy would be a nice change of pace. I liked him. He introduced me to a lot of things. Aperitifs, French foods, philosophy and Philip Wylie’s books. Because of Mark I read and enjoyed a few of Wylie’s books such as An ‘Essay on Morals’, ‘Generation of Vipers’ and my favorite ‘Finnley Wren: His Notions and Opinions’. He could talk for hours and I hung on almost every word. He had been formerly educated, which I had not, and street educated which I was, a little. There were others but rather non descript. Just guys trying to make a living.
While we were in Kaiserslautern, Germany some of us stayed in the Hotel Kaiserhauf. It was there that I met a very beautiful blond girl named Kitty. She was from Belgium and spoke 5 languages. Flemish, Spanish, English, French and German. She was amazing. She looked a lot like May Britt of the movies in the 50’s. When she found out what work we were doing she wanted to try it. Our manager, Nicholas, said why not so I more or less trained her on the ‘pitch’ we used. She did pretty good. In Germany we all made good sales. There were American military everywhere in hi-rise apartment buildings in all the larger cities. A lot of them with children. It was good times. We ate in the best restaurants and drank the best wines.
And then we went to France. Not all of us. Just Mark and a guy named Jules. Kitty and I had lost interest in each other by that time.
HONEYMOON FROM HELL..
Omen (o`men) 1. Anything perceived or happening that is regarded as portending good or evil or giving some indication as to the future; a prophetic sign.
Having defined ‘Omen’, I believe I have the perfect example. I know of this couple that had the “honeymoon from hell”. If there was ever an ‘omen’, this was one.
This couple met in Naples, Italy. It was truly love at first sight. At least for him. Perhaps for her, too. There was about a year of courtship, if you could call it that. And mostly, it was a great year. At any rate, there was a parting for nearly a year due to previous obligations on his part. He promised to return and would marry her. There was a tear-jerking departure, of course, at the pier. Perhaps even doubts whether he would truly return but not likely at that moment, however. True love would not be denied.
Almost to the year and almost 300 plus letters later, lo and behold, he returned. The wedding was set. It was a simple in home-wedding. He returned with very little money and very little baggage as it was to be a quick marriage and return trip which forced him to borrow a suit from her brother. The honeymoon, it was planned, would be a boat trip to Palermo, Sicily from Naples, Italy to visit her friend and her friend’s fiancé.
There were other nagging problems, such as her having met someone else during his absence which wasn’t quite ended before the wedding and unfortunately, not after the wedding, either. But that is another story. This is about the honeymoon.
They left this small ‘village’ by horse and carriage and eventually by a taxi and arriving at a forgotten hotel in Naples. They had planned the trip to Palermo for the next morning. During the night there was something, somehow that plugged the sink in the adjoining bathroom. Consequently, the floor was flooded in the night as were some of their belongings. Getting thru this was not easy but they did.
Eventually they arrived in time to board the ferry. The trip wasn’t really that lengthy. Perhaps 3 to 4 hours but during that time she succumbed to sea sickness, or something similar, causing her to lose it several times over the edge of the boat. They eventually arrived in Palermo and were met by her friend and fiancé. The rest of the evening was sort of foggy but went something like this. Upon exiting the friends car, the groom caught the ‘borrowed’ suit pocket on the door handle and nearly ripped the pocket off. After pinning it up with safety pins while trying to regain some dignity he tripped on a curb spraining his ankle fairly severe causing him to limp for the rest of the evening. He could not even recall the rest of the trip due to the drinks it took to ease the pain. I’m sure it was not pretty. He labeled that ‘blissful’ two days as the “Honeymoon from Hell”, aptly so! The marriage went downhill from there. Lets just say ‘it takes two to tango’ and neither of them could dance. End of story.
Having defined ‘Omen’, I believe I have the perfect example. I know of this couple that had the “honeymoon from hell”. If there was ever an ‘omen’, this was one.
This couple met in Naples, Italy. It was truly love at first sight. At least for him. Perhaps for her, too. There was about a year of courtship, if you could call it that. And mostly, it was a great year. At any rate, there was a parting for nearly a year due to previous obligations on his part. He promised to return and would marry her. There was a tear-jerking departure, of course, at the pier. Perhaps even doubts whether he would truly return but not likely at that moment, however. True love would not be denied.
Almost to the year and almost 300 plus letters later, lo and behold, he returned. The wedding was set. It was a simple in home-wedding. He returned with very little money and very little baggage as it was to be a quick marriage and return trip which forced him to borrow a suit from her brother. The honeymoon, it was planned, would be a boat trip to Palermo, Sicily from Naples, Italy to visit her friend and her friend’s fiancé.
There were other nagging problems, such as her having met someone else during his absence which wasn’t quite ended before the wedding and unfortunately, not after the wedding, either. But that is another story. This is about the honeymoon.
They left this small ‘village’ by horse and carriage and eventually by a taxi and arriving at a forgotten hotel in Naples. They had planned the trip to Palermo for the next morning. During the night there was something, somehow that plugged the sink in the adjoining bathroom. Consequently, the floor was flooded in the night as were some of their belongings. Getting thru this was not easy but they did.
Eventually they arrived in time to board the ferry. The trip wasn’t really that lengthy. Perhaps 3 to 4 hours but during that time she succumbed to sea sickness, or something similar, causing her to lose it several times over the edge of the boat. They eventually arrived in Palermo and were met by her friend and fiancé. The rest of the evening was sort of foggy but went something like this. Upon exiting the friends car, the groom caught the ‘borrowed’ suit pocket on the door handle and nearly ripped the pocket off. After pinning it up with safety pins while trying to regain some dignity he tripped on a curb spraining his ankle fairly severe causing him to limp for the rest of the evening. He could not even recall the rest of the trip due to the drinks it took to ease the pain. I’m sure it was not pretty. He labeled that ‘blissful’ two days as the “Honeymoon from Hell”, aptly so! The marriage went downhill from there. Lets just say ‘it takes two to tango’ and neither of them could dance. End of story.
THIS IS A LITTLE STORY I WROTE ABOUT 10 YEARS AGO..
THAT’S ‘FUR’ ENOUGH
By
Billy Peterson
I remember once having said “I wouldn’t want any pets around because they’re too much trouble.” Of course, I was single then. By that, I mean I wasn’t married to Jeanne yet.
Jeanne has a hobby. Many people have some sort of hobby but few collect animals. My wife does! Don’t get me wrong. I love animals. It is for this reason I don’t hunt. It’s only that I never know what’s going to meet me at the door at night.
About three months ago, as I walked in the kitchen from work, I spotted this object hovering in the corner. It was a kitten about three and a half inches long. I turned and saw Jeanne standing by the kitchen sink with pursed lips.
“What’s this”? I asked stupidly.
“It’s a kitten.”
“I know it’s a kitten. What is it doing in our kitchen”?
“I found it out by the car. Shivering!” she added for emphasis.
At that point the cat shivered.
“See?” she said.
I ignored them both.
“Take it back. We’ve already got a dog.”
“But Heidi won’t mind” she pointed out.
Heidi is a good example of my strong ‘will power’. One day, four years ago, my wife suggested we get a puppy.
“No!” I said firmly. “They’re too much trouble”.
“What trouble can they be? You feed them and love them and they love you back.”
“You can feed and love me!”
“Its not the same” she pouted.
“But we live in an apartment. You can’t have pets in apartments!”
“Maybe we could get a house”?
“Get a HOUSE”? I roared! “Get a house ‘cause we got a dog” It was incredible! “Out of the question.”
A week later, she brought home a Beagle puppy. This was dirty pool. No one over two or under 70 could ever reject a Beagle puppy once they had it in their arms and I had it in my arms, compliments of Jeanne and her winning smile. We had our puppy. After all, I’m only human. Right?
“Take the cat back!” I repeated.
“But he’ll get lost!”
“He was already lost when you found him!” I exclaimed.
“It’s cold out side. He’ll freeze!”
“FREEZE?! It’s only 55 out! He won’t freeze ‘till he gets to 30” I reasoned.
“But he’s so cute and helpless. Can’t we keep him for just a little while?”
Now, have you ever heard of anyone keeping a puppy or a kitten for ‘just a little while’? I haven’t. After all, what harm can a little helpless kitten be. Besides, it would give Heidi company. We kept him. That’s the kind of guy I am.
By popular demand from the landlord, me moved.
We were lucky to have found this small farmhouse. It is pretty and rustic and secluded and we fell in love with it! There is a good view of the mountains from the back of the house. Surrounding the house is a fence that keeps Heidi away from the main road. ‘Squirt’ as we named the cat, Still goes wherever he wants which gives Heidi jealous fits. There are a couple of barns on the property and one is directly in back of the house. There are also a multitude of cats in and around the barns.
You guessed it!
I came home from work one night about three weeks ago. Nothing unusual there. I walked in the door and but my bucket down and kissed my wife, in that order, and did what I normally do when I get home at night. After about a half hour, I noticed this grey thing lurking in the shadows. It was a cat of a different color.
“What’s this?” I yelled.
“What’s what?” my wife answered from the kitchen.
“This cat” I explained.
“Oh, that’s the little cat I found limping out by the barn” she said simply.
At that, the little cat rose and ‘limped’ across floor.
“See, like that!” she said coming into the room.
“I think you two rehearsed this” I said accusingly.
“Don’t be silly.”
“It goes back where you found it!” I was going to be firm this time. After all, a man has to put his foot down some time. If I let this keep happening, there wouldn’t be room to put my foot down.
“It’s hurt and won’t be able to fend for itself” she said.
“The cat goes!”
“But it will be company for Squirt” she persisted.
“Squirt’s got Heidi for company.”
“All Heidi does is growl at him” she said sadly.
“Good for her” I murmured.
“You’re cruel” she said as she started to cry.
“Okay,” I relented, knowing what would happen if I continued. “I’ll make a deal with you. You can keep it on the front porch. I’ll make a bed for it and she stays out there!” “Okay?”
“Oh honey, you’re so sweet. I promise I won’t let it in very often”.
That phrase ‘very often’ makes me feel like I won the battle but lost the war. Secretly, I didn’t expect to win but I surely didn’t want her to know that. I wasn’t wrong. Before the week was out the cat was in, permanently. This brought the total up to a dog, two cats and a Gerbil. Oh yes, the Gerbil.
Have you ever owned Gerbils? We do. That was before they owned us. If it hadn’t been for my initiative and entrepreneurship, we would have owned them forever.
Some time ago my wife was working. There was a salesman in her office who often related funny little stories about his family and their Gerbils. His salesmanship was outstanding too as one day my wife came home with a pair. Meaning a boy and a girl. She excitingly ran out and bought an aquarium for them to live in. We also had to get litter and ‘toys’ to play with. We settled down to watching them grow and occasionally played with them on the floor and the table. A couple months later, we watched in awe to the miracle of birth. Six to be exact. We decided to buy a book on Gerbils to learn more about them. That book that we should have bought before that un-named salesman started his cute little stories.
It seems the female will destroy the offspring occasionally so we bought another aquarium and separated them. So now we had eight Gerbils and two aquariums. We also found in the book that Gerbils can have babies every 24 days. They’re also productive for about 8 to 10 months. You can do the math. I did! This could come to about 60 or so offspring from the original two alone. Talk about a population explosion!
Panic set in. In the ensuing months, we gave some to our families and some of our neighbors. We gave some to any Pet Stores that would take them. Anywhere we could find. Somehow, and I don’t know exactly how, we are down to one Gerbil and one aquarium. We had two but one died. We have six little shoe boxes buried in the front yard. These were prepared with tender love and tears by my wife. It was an experience!
I’d like to say that this story ends here but unfortunately, I don’t think it does. The other day while I was in the garage tying some flies and wistfully stealing an occasional glance at my fly-rod hanging on the wall., my wife approached me.
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Nuthin.”
“Whatcha gonna do?”
“Nuthin.”
“Hmm. Ah, how much trouble would it be to build a chicken coop?”
“What in HELL would you want to know THAT for?”
“Well, this friend of my Mother’s, you know, well she has this little banty rooster and she wants to get rid of it. My Mother don’t want it and I’m afraid what will happen to it.” All that in one breath!
“Bring it home” I said expansively.
“ You’re kidding. You really mean it?” She was ecstatic.
“Sure,” I said. “With the price of chicken the way it is these days…”
She left me alone the rest of the day. (and night).
The End
By
Billy Peterson
I remember once having said “I wouldn’t want any pets around because they’re too much trouble.” Of course, I was single then. By that, I mean I wasn’t married to Jeanne yet.
Jeanne has a hobby. Many people have some sort of hobby but few collect animals. My wife does! Don’t get me wrong. I love animals. It is for this reason I don’t hunt. It’s only that I never know what’s going to meet me at the door at night.
About three months ago, as I walked in the kitchen from work, I spotted this object hovering in the corner. It was a kitten about three and a half inches long. I turned and saw Jeanne standing by the kitchen sink with pursed lips.
“What’s this”? I asked stupidly.
“It’s a kitten.”
“I know it’s a kitten. What is it doing in our kitchen”?
“I found it out by the car. Shivering!” she added for emphasis.
At that point the cat shivered.
“See?” she said.
I ignored them both.
“Take it back. We’ve already got a dog.”
“But Heidi won’t mind” she pointed out.
Heidi is a good example of my strong ‘will power’. One day, four years ago, my wife suggested we get a puppy.
“No!” I said firmly. “They’re too much trouble”.
“What trouble can they be? You feed them and love them and they love you back.”
“You can feed and love me!”
“Its not the same” she pouted.
“But we live in an apartment. You can’t have pets in apartments!”
“Maybe we could get a house”?
“Get a HOUSE”? I roared! “Get a house ‘cause we got a dog” It was incredible! “Out of the question.”
A week later, she brought home a Beagle puppy. This was dirty pool. No one over two or under 70 could ever reject a Beagle puppy once they had it in their arms and I had it in my arms, compliments of Jeanne and her winning smile. We had our puppy. After all, I’m only human. Right?
“Take the cat back!” I repeated.
“But he’ll get lost!”
“He was already lost when you found him!” I exclaimed.
“It’s cold out side. He’ll freeze!”
“FREEZE?! It’s only 55 out! He won’t freeze ‘till he gets to 30” I reasoned.
“But he’s so cute and helpless. Can’t we keep him for just a little while?”
Now, have you ever heard of anyone keeping a puppy or a kitten for ‘just a little while’? I haven’t. After all, what harm can a little helpless kitten be. Besides, it would give Heidi company. We kept him. That’s the kind of guy I am.
By popular demand from the landlord, me moved.
We were lucky to have found this small farmhouse. It is pretty and rustic and secluded and we fell in love with it! There is a good view of the mountains from the back of the house. Surrounding the house is a fence that keeps Heidi away from the main road. ‘Squirt’ as we named the cat, Still goes wherever he wants which gives Heidi jealous fits. There are a couple of barns on the property and one is directly in back of the house. There are also a multitude of cats in and around the barns.
You guessed it!
I came home from work one night about three weeks ago. Nothing unusual there. I walked in the door and but my bucket down and kissed my wife, in that order, and did what I normally do when I get home at night. After about a half hour, I noticed this grey thing lurking in the shadows. It was a cat of a different color.
“What’s this?” I yelled.
“What’s what?” my wife answered from the kitchen.
“This cat” I explained.
“Oh, that’s the little cat I found limping out by the barn” she said simply.
At that, the little cat rose and ‘limped’ across floor.
“See, like that!” she said coming into the room.
“I think you two rehearsed this” I said accusingly.
“Don’t be silly.”
“It goes back where you found it!” I was going to be firm this time. After all, a man has to put his foot down some time. If I let this keep happening, there wouldn’t be room to put my foot down.
“It’s hurt and won’t be able to fend for itself” she said.
“The cat goes!”
“But it will be company for Squirt” she persisted.
“Squirt’s got Heidi for company.”
“All Heidi does is growl at him” she said sadly.
“Good for her” I murmured.
“You’re cruel” she said as she started to cry.
“Okay,” I relented, knowing what would happen if I continued. “I’ll make a deal with you. You can keep it on the front porch. I’ll make a bed for it and she stays out there!” “Okay?”
“Oh honey, you’re so sweet. I promise I won’t let it in very often”.
That phrase ‘very often’ makes me feel like I won the battle but lost the war. Secretly, I didn’t expect to win but I surely didn’t want her to know that. I wasn’t wrong. Before the week was out the cat was in, permanently. This brought the total up to a dog, two cats and a Gerbil. Oh yes, the Gerbil.
Have you ever owned Gerbils? We do. That was before they owned us. If it hadn’t been for my initiative and entrepreneurship, we would have owned them forever.
Some time ago my wife was working. There was a salesman in her office who often related funny little stories about his family and their Gerbils. His salesmanship was outstanding too as one day my wife came home with a pair. Meaning a boy and a girl. She excitingly ran out and bought an aquarium for them to live in. We also had to get litter and ‘toys’ to play with. We settled down to watching them grow and occasionally played with them on the floor and the table. A couple months later, we watched in awe to the miracle of birth. Six to be exact. We decided to buy a book on Gerbils to learn more about them. That book that we should have bought before that un-named salesman started his cute little stories.
It seems the female will destroy the offspring occasionally so we bought another aquarium and separated them. So now we had eight Gerbils and two aquariums. We also found in the book that Gerbils can have babies every 24 days. They’re also productive for about 8 to 10 months. You can do the math. I did! This could come to about 60 or so offspring from the original two alone. Talk about a population explosion!
Panic set in. In the ensuing months, we gave some to our families and some of our neighbors. We gave some to any Pet Stores that would take them. Anywhere we could find. Somehow, and I don’t know exactly how, we are down to one Gerbil and one aquarium. We had two but one died. We have six little shoe boxes buried in the front yard. These were prepared with tender love and tears by my wife. It was an experience!
I’d like to say that this story ends here but unfortunately, I don’t think it does. The other day while I was in the garage tying some flies and wistfully stealing an occasional glance at my fly-rod hanging on the wall., my wife approached me.
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Nuthin.”
“Whatcha gonna do?”
“Nuthin.”
“Hmm. Ah, how much trouble would it be to build a chicken coop?”
“What in HELL would you want to know THAT for?”
“Well, this friend of my Mother’s, you know, well she has this little banty rooster and she wants to get rid of it. My Mother don’t want it and I’m afraid what will happen to it.” All that in one breath!
“Bring it home” I said expansively.
“ You’re kidding. You really mean it?” She was ecstatic.
“Sure,” I said. “With the price of chicken the way it is these days…”
She left me alone the rest of the day. (and night).
The End
THE ISLE OF CAPRI and wait! THERE'S MORE..
There is so much in Italy to see and absorb that two years are not even enough. I am ashamed to say that I never appreciated the opportunities that I had while in the Navy in Naples and even when I went back after I got discharged. I did take advantage of living there on my return more than a ‘tourist’ did as I had more time and I knew my way around.
My favorite place in Naples was the ‘Galleria Umberto’. A picture of it is above. It took up a whole city block and had 4 entrances. One from each street. The entire building was covered by a glass domed roof. Sort of a ‘Mall’ as it had shops of all sorts and Gelatto and café bars.
There were tables and chairs all over where one could sit and have a coffee or beer or just read. Quite like here now with the Starbucks and such. But this was in the 1950’s. Down below was a nightclub called ‘Kit Kat Club’. The building was built in 1885 and probably hasn’t changed in all that time. Outside on one street was the San Carlos Opera House which, unfortunately, I never went into.
The walk along the Via Caracciolo which is a long stretch by the sea is always beautiful. It was always filled with boats going back and forth to Capri and Ischia isles. Also, more than an occasional fisherman from the shore and always young lovers sitting on the walls. There were a lot of restaurants down by the water. You can believe the fish on the menu were fresh. The was one called the ‘Zi Teresa’. Actually, it is still there. It was started in 1916.
When I had not been in Naples very long, still in the Navy, some buddies took me there the first time. It was beautiful. Right next to the water and a canopy over the top. One of them told me to order the steamed clams. Now, being from Illinois, I had never eaten clams or can’t even remember seeing any. When they brought them they were steaming and open and alien to me. They told me to squeeze some lemon on them and when I did they suddenly curled up and I thought sure they were still alive. They all had a good time with that one. I did eat them, however. The food was delicious and the violinists were playing old Neapolitan music and the place was full and the wine was, well, what can I say! A memory all by itself.
Posillipo is a section in the hills above the Bay of Naples. The most beautiful view of the Bay is from there. There are Restaurants along there that makes a double treat for a newcomer to Naples. You have the great food and drink and the view to enjoy at the same time. There is the ‘Funicolare’ which you can ride up the hill if you aren’t driving. (And who would, in Naples?) It is a Tram that goes on a track straight up the hill with stops every so often. A must do for newbie!
There are also the Isle of Capri and the Isle of Ischia. Personally, I liked Ischia better as it was less travelled and less crowded and not as ‘rich’ which drew the ‘rich’ crowd to Capri. At least, I felt more relaxed there. Funny thing is, that if you mention Capri, everyone has heard of it. Mention Ischia and chances are they may not have heard of it. The one thing that Capri has is the Blue Grotto or the ‘Grotto Azzuro’. A picture of the outside entrance is above. It is the one thing to do if you go to Naples. I call it one of the 'memorable' sights I have on my list. Getting into it is not easy and is impossible in any choppy water. But on a beautiful sunny day at the right time, it will blow you away. This is a view from inside and it doesn't even do it the justice it deserves.
When I visited Ischia the first time, I and Larry S., a ship mate and a good friend, rented kayaks and paddled out to a rock formation which was farther than we should have gone. We touched it, which was what we decided to do in the first place, and paddled back. The water was beautiful and was not really deep which gave it that greenish blue clear color.
That evening we went to this club that was almost as if it was in the side of a mountain. A cave, if you will. When we got inside it was open at the top. I am pretty sure it was called the “Monkey Bars”. This was in about 1953. I have searched the web and have never found anything about it. We met a couple of girls before we went and they are the ones who took us there. We dined and wined and even danced, sort of. Not my thing. It was a great evening, however.
In all the time I spent in Naples, There are two things I never did. Visit Pompeii and Mount Vesuvius. I don’t know why. It just never was a priority. I should have but I truly enjoyed my time just walking around the cities and watching the people and sitting at outdoor tables with a beer or wine or even a coffee and eating, of course. There is an old saying “See Naples and die”. If there is a way that I wind up alone in life and I am physically able to get there, then that ‘Ole Maxim” could come true.
My favorite place in Naples was the ‘Galleria Umberto’. A picture of it is above. It took up a whole city block and had 4 entrances. One from each street. The entire building was covered by a glass domed roof. Sort of a ‘Mall’ as it had shops of all sorts and Gelatto and café bars.
There were tables and chairs all over where one could sit and have a coffee or beer or just read. Quite like here now with the Starbucks and such. But this was in the 1950’s. Down below was a nightclub called ‘Kit Kat Club’. The building was built in 1885 and probably hasn’t changed in all that time. Outside on one street was the San Carlos Opera House which, unfortunately, I never went into.
The walk along the Via Caracciolo which is a long stretch by the sea is always beautiful. It was always filled with boats going back and forth to Capri and Ischia isles. Also, more than an occasional fisherman from the shore and always young lovers sitting on the walls. There were a lot of restaurants down by the water. You can believe the fish on the menu were fresh. The was one called the ‘Zi Teresa’. Actually, it is still there. It was started in 1916.
When I had not been in Naples very long, still in the Navy, some buddies took me there the first time. It was beautiful. Right next to the water and a canopy over the top. One of them told me to order the steamed clams. Now, being from Illinois, I had never eaten clams or can’t even remember seeing any. When they brought them they were steaming and open and alien to me. They told me to squeeze some lemon on them and when I did they suddenly curled up and I thought sure they were still alive. They all had a good time with that one. I did eat them, however. The food was delicious and the violinists were playing old Neapolitan music and the place was full and the wine was, well, what can I say! A memory all by itself.
Posillipo is a section in the hills above the Bay of Naples. The most beautiful view of the Bay is from there. There are Restaurants along there that makes a double treat for a newcomer to Naples. You have the great food and drink and the view to enjoy at the same time. There is the ‘Funicolare’ which you can ride up the hill if you aren’t driving. (And who would, in Naples?) It is a Tram that goes on a track straight up the hill with stops every so often. A must do for newbie!
There are also the Isle of Capri and the Isle of Ischia. Personally, I liked Ischia better as it was less travelled and less crowded and not as ‘rich’ which drew the ‘rich’ crowd to Capri. At least, I felt more relaxed there. Funny thing is, that if you mention Capri, everyone has heard of it. Mention Ischia and chances are they may not have heard of it. The one thing that Capri has is the Blue Grotto or the ‘Grotto Azzuro’. A picture of the outside entrance is above. It is the one thing to do if you go to Naples. I call it one of the 'memorable' sights I have on my list. Getting into it is not easy and is impossible in any choppy water. But on a beautiful sunny day at the right time, it will blow you away. This is a view from inside and it doesn't even do it the justice it deserves.
When I visited Ischia the first time, I and Larry S., a ship mate and a good friend, rented kayaks and paddled out to a rock formation which was farther than we should have gone. We touched it, which was what we decided to do in the first place, and paddled back. The water was beautiful and was not really deep which gave it that greenish blue clear color.
That evening we went to this club that was almost as if it was in the side of a mountain. A cave, if you will. When we got inside it was open at the top. I am pretty sure it was called the “Monkey Bars”. This was in about 1953. I have searched the web and have never found anything about it. We met a couple of girls before we went and they are the ones who took us there. We dined and wined and even danced, sort of. Not my thing. It was a great evening, however.
In all the time I spent in Naples, There are two things I never did. Visit Pompeii and Mount Vesuvius. I don’t know why. It just never was a priority. I should have but I truly enjoyed my time just walking around the cities and watching the people and sitting at outdoor tables with a beer or wine or even a coffee and eating, of course. There is an old saying “See Naples and die”. If there is a way that I wind up alone in life and I am physically able to get there, then that ‘Ole Maxim” could come true.
TIP-TOEING THROUGH EUROPE and ELSEWHERE..
5 years spent in the Navy was really good for me. However, by being a Medical Corpsman, I only spent the last 7 months aboard a ship. The rest was spent in hospitals in Quantico, Virginia Marine Base and in Naples, Italy where I eventually, after 2 years, was assigned aboard the USS Worcester.
It was hard to leave Italy but it was also exciting being out in the middle of the ocean and visiting those 'faraway places'. In those few months I stepped down on liberty in Nice, France on New Years Eve of 1953. Roamed the beaches of Cannes amongst the 'beautiful people' and drank absinthe in a rowdy bar with a rowdy girl in Toulon, France. Had real fish and chips and stout beer in Portsmouth, England and wandered around the streets of Barcelona, Spain for 2 days and visiting some senoritas, of course. Walked across the bridges of Dublin, Ireland and gave blood, along with 1500 shipmates, to the city of Dublin. Also had a real Irish Stew in a small cafe and listened to a young girl sing some Irish songs while we ate. Docked at San Juan, Puerto Rico but not allowed off the ship. Sat at an outside club along the beautiful waters of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba and drank way too many cuba libres. Worcester Mass. was our Home Port and I spent may great liberties in Boston. (Not all of them at Eddies Western Bar).
Once, the Captain took the whole ship and crew to his birthday party in Bangor, Maine where most of us were met by the ladies and girls of Bangor and hosted us at several clubs in town. Just a nice clean time of dining and eating. Memorable!
All that was enough to wet my palate for traveling. I loved it! I pretty much followed through with adventures in travelling when I got out of the Navy.
It was hard to leave Italy but it was also exciting being out in the middle of the ocean and visiting those 'faraway places'. In those few months I stepped down on liberty in Nice, France on New Years Eve of 1953. Roamed the beaches of Cannes amongst the 'beautiful people' and drank absinthe in a rowdy bar with a rowdy girl in Toulon, France. Had real fish and chips and stout beer in Portsmouth, England and wandered around the streets of Barcelona, Spain for 2 days and visiting some senoritas, of course. Walked across the bridges of Dublin, Ireland and gave blood, along with 1500 shipmates, to the city of Dublin. Also had a real Irish Stew in a small cafe and listened to a young girl sing some Irish songs while we ate. Docked at San Juan, Puerto Rico but not allowed off the ship. Sat at an outside club along the beautiful waters of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba and drank way too many cuba libres. Worcester Mass. was our Home Port and I spent may great liberties in Boston. (Not all of them at Eddies Western Bar).
Once, the Captain took the whole ship and crew to his birthday party in Bangor, Maine where most of us were met by the ladies and girls of Bangor and hosted us at several clubs in town. Just a nice clean time of dining and eating. Memorable!
All that was enough to wet my palate for traveling. I loved it! I pretty much followed through with adventures in travelling when I got out of the Navy.
MY TRAVELIN' TRAVAILS..
I can’t even remember the year but it had to be in the early sixties that I did a lot of hitch-hiking across the country. I know that I lived a short time in or passed through cities from El Paso to Tulsa. I hitched to New York City via Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Oklahoma, Virginia, Pennsylvania and Ohio and probably skirted other cities and states. I don’t even know why other than I was divorced, angry and looking for something and didn’t know what. In some cities I would work for a bit. Tulsa was one. Davenport, Iowa was another. Kansas City, Kansas. It was a lot less dangerous back then to hitch-hike. At least, I never had any trouble. People were pretty nice.
The one most frustrating time was coming back from New York. I was going through Cincinnati, Ohio or rather I was trying to. Some guy picked me up about 9 or 10 at night outside of Cincinnati and dropped me off toward the center of the city. He mentioned that Cincinnati was built in a circle like Paris and told me to just stay on some, I don’t remember, street or highway and I would go right through Cincinnati. Well, I had several rides until I found that I had passed by the same buildings most of the night. The last ride let me off in what seemed like country. It was 2 in the morning and a Lonely road and very dark. It was an intersection with a very dim street light above it. I heard dogs barking not too far from me but I was afraid to leave the street light and wasn’t even sure which way to go. There was a really long time went by before I finally saw a car coming.
It was still dark so I put out my thumb and they slowed down so I went over to the car and started to open the door. It was an old couple and when I touched the door I could see the absolute fear on the lady passengers face and the driver hit the gas and took off scared to death. Looking back, I didn’t blame them. I probably appeared very scary to them. I felt that they may have been frightened enough to possibly report the situation to the police or someone and possibly try to find me. I walked in the direction that instinct took me. About less than an hour I suspected there Was a God. Lo and behold, another car came and saw me and stopped and I got in.
It was a young guy who was going to work. The radio was blasting and he just started to talk over it. Now, I had not eaten anything for a really long time and when I got in I could smell that he had a big box of donuts between us. I was so thankful for the ride that I didn’t feel like I could ask for a donut even though the urge was overpowering. He said he was going to the west end of the city which would get me going in the right direction. After about ten minutes he asked me if I would care for a donut. I said I would. Nothing has ever tasted better in my life than that donut. I finally told him what I went through and he said I could eat all the donuts I wanted. I ate 6. I wanted 12 but I held back. When we got to where he let me off I thanked him profusely.
I never got his name but at that moment I wanted to put him in my will, which probably would amount to about nothing then. But, it was the thought that counted. And he got me going in the right direction.
The one most frustrating time was coming back from New York. I was going through Cincinnati, Ohio or rather I was trying to. Some guy picked me up about 9 or 10 at night outside of Cincinnati and dropped me off toward the center of the city. He mentioned that Cincinnati was built in a circle like Paris and told me to just stay on some, I don’t remember, street or highway and I would go right through Cincinnati. Well, I had several rides until I found that I had passed by the same buildings most of the night. The last ride let me off in what seemed like country. It was 2 in the morning and a Lonely road and very dark. It was an intersection with a very dim street light above it. I heard dogs barking not too far from me but I was afraid to leave the street light and wasn’t even sure which way to go. There was a really long time went by before I finally saw a car coming.
It was still dark so I put out my thumb and they slowed down so I went over to the car and started to open the door. It was an old couple and when I touched the door I could see the absolute fear on the lady passengers face and the driver hit the gas and took off scared to death. Looking back, I didn’t blame them. I probably appeared very scary to them. I felt that they may have been frightened enough to possibly report the situation to the police or someone and possibly try to find me. I walked in the direction that instinct took me. About less than an hour I suspected there Was a God. Lo and behold, another car came and saw me and stopped and I got in.
It was a young guy who was going to work. The radio was blasting and he just started to talk over it. Now, I had not eaten anything for a really long time and when I got in I could smell that he had a big box of donuts between us. I was so thankful for the ride that I didn’t feel like I could ask for a donut even though the urge was overpowering. He said he was going to the west end of the city which would get me going in the right direction. After about ten minutes he asked me if I would care for a donut. I said I would. Nothing has ever tasted better in my life than that donut. I finally told him what I went through and he said I could eat all the donuts I wanted. I ate 6. I wanted 12 but I held back. When we got to where he let me off I thanked him profusely.
I never got his name but at that moment I wanted to put him in my will, which probably would amount to about nothing then. But, it was the thought that counted. And he got me going in the right direction.
COULDA' BEEN A CONTENDER..
I often wonder what direction my life could have taken if even one factor would have been changed. What if my dad never went in the service or if my mother did not suffer from alcoholism or if I had not gone in the navy. I was in all sports at school. I played left end on the football team in 9th and 10th grade and Fair at basketball and was the fastest in school in the 50 yd and 100 yd dashes. I was in the top two in math class and stood out in art classes. But because of circumstances, I moved across the river to live with my dad because they were getting divorced. I didn’t like the new school in LeClaire, Iowa so I quit after 2 weeks in the 10th grade. No one questioned about me from school. I got a job at the Ucanco Candy Co. in Davenport. I was 15 but told them I was 17. I caught the bus every morning and worked for two weeks before I asked my dad if I could quit school and get a job. His response was “You’re old enough to know what you want to do”. I was 15. Then I told him what I already had done. I remember he used the exact same words when I told I had been smoking for the last year. 15 is not old enough for those decisions. What if I had stayed in school and followed through with math as a career or followed through with track and field. Not my mother or my dad even knew I was in sports or was good at math or actually anything that I was interested in. I wound up working for 2 years at the Candy co. and then joined the Navy at 17 with my dad signing for me. It probably, under the circumstances, was the best thing that happened to me at that point in my life.
TAKE A LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP..
‘Lessons learned’ should have a section all it’s own. There is a long list, for me, at least. Every group of kids can find a way to keep entertained and too often destructive in many, many ways.
At one time when I was about 11 or 12 living on 14 1/2 street in Rock Island we went thru a faze of slingshots and rubber guns. We made them out of scrap wood and rubber bands or inner tubes. Whatever we could find. We used small rocks or marbles and one favorite was hairpins. They would loop over the rubber band which made it easy to use. One day, while standing in the street and aiming at things to shoot at, Donny, one of the kids in our bunch, shot a hairpin from his slingshot randomly across the street toward a girl standing on her porch. Alice E. was her name. The chances of hitting anything on purpose was very small. However, this particular time the hairpin found its way into the left eye of Alice. She went to the ground screaming. Donny was besides himself. Kept saying how sorry he was. We all were. After the dust settled Alice had lost her eye. I don’t remember any of us using our slingshots after that.
One instance in a lifetime. One second in time. For Alice it was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. For Donny it was a moment in life that he would give anything to do over. These lessons in life happen to all of us in some degree.
My friends, Wayne K. and Harold B. and I, were out hunting rabbits one day when we were about 14 or 15. We had shotguns. We were scattered about 20 or 30 feet away from one another. Wayne was on my right and Harold on my left. None of us knew much about hunting or guns. At one point someone yelled “there goes one” and I saw it running through the field to my right. I turned my shotgun to my right at the rabbit and took a shot. At that very instance Wayne screamed. He was right in the way of my shot. Thanks to God or someone, I didn’t hit him but he said he could hear the shot go by him. Not true but it was that close to him. It scared the crap out of me as much as it did Wayne. I, and Wayne were lucky that day. The lesson was obvious. Don’t knee-jerk when you have a gun in your hand. Better yet, don’t have a gun in your hand, period.
While working in a Iron Shop when I was younger, meaning about 35, A few of us were taking a break outside the open door. It had snowed and we were throwing snowballs around. I thought it would be funny to throw one at Benny, our layout man who was about 65 yrs.old and see how close I could come without hitting him. He was standing with his hands on the plate in front of him. It landed right between his hands and it startled him so much that he fell back against the wall. I thought he had had a heart attack or something. He was alright but it was scary enough for me that it made me think when I thought about throwing something or seeing someone else doing it.
‘Horseplay’ is not good and can lead to disaster in the right circumstances. I guess the only thing you can do is not to repeat these mistakes or bad judgements you make in your life.
At one time when I was about 11 or 12 living on 14 1/2 street in Rock Island we went thru a faze of slingshots and rubber guns. We made them out of scrap wood and rubber bands or inner tubes. Whatever we could find. We used small rocks or marbles and one favorite was hairpins. They would loop over the rubber band which made it easy to use. One day, while standing in the street and aiming at things to shoot at, Donny, one of the kids in our bunch, shot a hairpin from his slingshot randomly across the street toward a girl standing on her porch. Alice E. was her name. The chances of hitting anything on purpose was very small. However, this particular time the hairpin found its way into the left eye of Alice. She went to the ground screaming. Donny was besides himself. Kept saying how sorry he was. We all were. After the dust settled Alice had lost her eye. I don’t remember any of us using our slingshots after that.
One instance in a lifetime. One second in time. For Alice it was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. For Donny it was a moment in life that he would give anything to do over. These lessons in life happen to all of us in some degree.
My friends, Wayne K. and Harold B. and I, were out hunting rabbits one day when we were about 14 or 15. We had shotguns. We were scattered about 20 or 30 feet away from one another. Wayne was on my right and Harold on my left. None of us knew much about hunting or guns. At one point someone yelled “there goes one” and I saw it running through the field to my right. I turned my shotgun to my right at the rabbit and took a shot. At that very instance Wayne screamed. He was right in the way of my shot. Thanks to God or someone, I didn’t hit him but he said he could hear the shot go by him. Not true but it was that close to him. It scared the crap out of me as much as it did Wayne. I, and Wayne were lucky that day. The lesson was obvious. Don’t knee-jerk when you have a gun in your hand. Better yet, don’t have a gun in your hand, period.
While working in a Iron Shop when I was younger, meaning about 35, A few of us were taking a break outside the open door. It had snowed and we were throwing snowballs around. I thought it would be funny to throw one at Benny, our layout man who was about 65 yrs.old and see how close I could come without hitting him. He was standing with his hands on the plate in front of him. It landed right between his hands and it startled him so much that he fell back against the wall. I thought he had had a heart attack or something. He was alright but it was scary enough for me that it made me think when I thought about throwing something or seeing someone else doing it.
‘Horseplay’ is not good and can lead to disaster in the right circumstances. I guess the only thing you can do is not to repeat these mistakes or bad judgements you make in your life.
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