OneteninaSeventyfive

 - 1968 -

At twenty-two he was built to run
Three-striper stationed at Ellsworth
Air Force Base, Dakota
The southern one

Outside Rapid City

He met a dark haired beauty 

At a hilltop bar

They got along

She left for college

Vermillion, South Dakota
On a bluff

Overlooking the Missouri river

She left, he followed

She was there for a semester

He had a weekend
An 800+ mile round trip
Back and forth across the state

His car; a 63 Ford Galaxy

Two-barrel, gutless, and then it broke

He borrowed a pal's 65 GTO

He would never forget this act of generosity.  He would visit his buddy years later in Michigan kCity, Indiana to thank him again.

It was ready to roll

389 cubic inches, 4 barrel carb

and a four speed on the floor

Saturday; early morning run

Two packs stashed

One of six and one of gum

Interstate Ninety

Flat across the plains
Often as far as you could see

Little traffic - West to East

She had warned him of a speed trap

Between Murdo and Presho

He wasn't paying attention
Too excited

The six pack rested nicely 
on the flat space
between the bucket seats.

Hit the road

Cranked that hot rod

Popped a beer

When he couldn't see a town ahead

He was doing a hundred and ten

Seemed like the right thing to do

On his third beer

Somewhere east of Murdo

He saw a car

It was parked on the shoulder

Way ahead

He slowed to 75-80

Limit was 75

I thought she told me that trap was between some other towns? Damn....

As he passed he noticed
It was an early 60's Chevy

Dark and nondescript

He kicked her back to 110

Seconds later, from out of nowhere

A black and white on his bumper

Stick of gum quickly replaced beer can

The old Chevy pulled up

Right behind the squad car

The cop conferred with the radar man

Then came to see me

"Son, I clocked you at 110

But I'll write you at even 100

Follow me"

The three of us made an unlikely caravan moving slowly down the Interstate...

Pulled into Presho, SD on the plains

Up to a white clapboard house

With an office addition on the side

Walked in with Policeman and Radarman

Side office was a mini-courtroom

Justice of the Peace walked through door
Separating home and court

Pulling up suspenders as he strode

Straight outa' the movies

Desperate to break free, I wanted to run outside and shout "STELLA!!!!!" You know, like Brando in "Streetcar Named Desire." But then, that wasn't her name and besides, the JP was a he.

Convened court, found me guilty

After I admitted same

Fined  me $85

"Your Honor, I only have $45 

I am going to Vermillion to visit my fiancé 

I need $10 for gas to get back to Rapid City"

"I hope he goes for this.  I wonder if they have a jail in this town?"

Judge took my $35 and my promise 

To pay the other $50 later

And released me

Back in that hot rod GTO

On down the highway...soon back to 110

Figured the speed traps were over

Made the trip in just over 5 hours
Four hundred and five miles

With a stop in a tiny town

And a part in a vignette

Right out of a Tennessee Williams play

Minus the accents...

Over Forty years now

The dark haired beauty

Has been harboring a criminal

That makes her an accessory...the finest who ever lived.
He never paid the $50...He's still wanted in SoDak.

Peace... and Dignity

The inauguration speech rang

With clarity and truth

Eyes glistened with hope

In all watching nations

The masses gathered for inspiration

Inspiration came... a warm blanket cover

A challenge to be responsible

A promise of peace... and dignity

Reminders of our refusal to fail

In the unfolding of history

A promise that we will succeed

Once again

The Mall of Millions

Waving flags; sang and cried

God Bless us All

With Peace... and Dignity

I Have a Bat...

That opposite field line drive...
Yup that one!

..in my belfry.

No, wait a minute!

...in my office.

Its an Aluminum Little League bat.

A Louisville Slugger.

"Extra Lite" 30inch, 21 oz.

It is inscribed with:

"Arden Little League

Batting Titles

Majors

1992 - .565

Sr. Minors

1993 - .585"

The owner's name

Is inscribed near the leading 

edge of the handle.

It says,

"Tyler Campbell"

Those were the peak athletic years for my son

As with many sons like him.

For when boys hit their early teens

Their hormones take over and they often 

Take off in pursuit of other...adventures.

I will be the first father

To swear on a stack of Bibles

That I gladly took all the vicarious thrills

I could out of Tyler's spectacular baseball days.

If I ever had any expectations about him and his athleticism

He blew them all out of the water by the time he was ten.

Not just in baseball but in soccer, swimming and eventually football.

But this story is about "Beeeseaball" and how

"Eeees been good to me".

You could see it in his eye 

When he was as young as two.

Focused, smooth and level.

He was a natural lefty.

He had some kind of extra synapse 

That let him wait on the ball 

Until the last moment.

Guaging his swing, 

And hitting opposite field doubles.

Tons of them.

He was really fast.

And stole many bases, including home

Almost at will.

He was an excellent pitcher and center fielder

with great range and an accurate arm.

He was easy to coach 

And he was a perennial Little League All Star.

Sixteen years later

I can still get pumped remembering the sight of him

On the ball field.

His best coach over the years,

Chuck Spooner aka 'The Kid Whisperer"

Once favorably compared Tyler's 

Swing to Stan "The Man" Musial

I was thinking, "What?  Not better?"

Today, Tyler is busy chasing 

His dream with a vengeance.

He writes music, sings lead, plays guitar 

And has assembled a band with great chemistry.

I didn't expect this either.

But if he keeps his focus, swings smooth and stays level

I am betting he will have a ton of hits

In the music world as well.

You're Right. I know I don't deserve him,

Or his wonderful sister...

Or their amazing mother.

Right on all three counts.

It's okay though.

I'm just along for the ride...

Watching all three accomplish great things...

Waiting to inscribe more bats.

Buddha Buddy

1969.  He was an Air Intelligence technician on a one-year assignment to U-Tapao Royal Thai Air Base, Thailand.  His job… constructing strike kits for B-52 bombers.  The targets were in Viet Nam and, as would later be revealed, Nixon-ordered Cambodia.  It was basically artsy-craftsy work but demanded precision and double checking at every point.  

One task was to draw radar predictions that would accurately reflect the terrain depicted on topographical maps.  This was to give the navigator a preview of what to expect during the bomb run as he would see it along a certain axis of attack.  Another was to build strike charts that were custom foldouts of topographical maps that also followed the axis of attack or strike route. 

There were typically a couple of sets of charts, one for the high level approach and one for the low level bomb run.  The low level charts were prepared on close scale maps and included the radar predictions.  Rapidograph pens were used to plot the planned course of the bomber during the run.  Course and target information were also plotted on the charts.  He worked steady ten hour shifts, 6 days on and 3 days off.

The base was, and still is situated right on the Gulf of Siam.  Among other things, it had its own beach, an outdoor theater near the beach and several busy clubs including one for Officers, NCOs and a USO.  Early on, he found the USO and became addicted to its first class stateside-type hamburgers and malts.  Those became his favorite staples.  He also discovered the game of double deck, four-handed pinochle and it was played tough in that club.  Most of the players were black and they brought a lot of passion to the game.  They had a way of slamming their cards on the table to take a trick that displayed plenty of emotion. It could be intimidating to a newcomer.  He learned the game in that environment. At first he took some relentless criticism for his rookie mistakes but then, over time he learned the nuances of bidding cues, counting cards and playing out the suits.  He also learned the fist-slamming play of a card expected to take the trick.

About half way through his one-year tour, he got a part-time job running a small team of Thai workers at a warehouse on base.  The warehouse was stocked with food, drinks and other items for the Officer and NCO clubs.  Each day, they would fill orders for delivery to the clubs.  The Thais were good natured, hard workers so the warehouse job turned out to be a pretty good way to pass some of the time the one year tour entailed.  Like him, one of the Thai workers was in his early 20’s.  The Thai had a fine sense of humor and they became fast friends.  Their jokes suffered from their limited grasp of each other’s language but they somehow got the point across.  He learned his new friend had a wife, two children and was an ex kick boxer. 

Once, the boxer invited him to have dinner at home with his family. He accepted and found himself in a small Thai village.  It was mostly one room bamboo huts constructed on stilts.  At his friends hut, he met the family and they had a good meal of kao pad (fried rice).  At one point, he asked his friend if he planned to have more children.  The boxer’s response was, “No money for one more mouth to feed.”

Soon after, he invited the boxer to bring his wife and join him for a movie at the base outdoor theater.  His friend accepted and they all spent an evening enjoying a movie and refreshments consisting of popcorn, beer, sodas and candy… the works. At one point, his friend was so overwhelmed with the evening he leaned over and gave him a Thai kiss (hawm kaem) on the cheek.  This act is a traditional, nose on cheek sniff and can be quite startling if you haven’t heard of it or seen it and he hadn’t.  He had learned some of the cultural “don’ts” like not touching another’s head and not pointing the bottom of your foot at another but he had not yet learned any of the “do’s”.

Eventually, the time came for him to leave the warehouse job and prepare to return home to America.  When learning of this, the boxer became uncharacteristically solemn and presented him with a traditional gold looking chain that had a tiny, antique Buddha encased in a small plastic bubble.  These were as common in Thailand as rosaries are among Catholics and meant just as much to the natives. 

This photo of the American and his wife was taken a few months after he returned from Thailand.  He is wearing the Buddha and chain.

Almost thirty years later, he would include the Buddha among the amulets he attached to his motorcycle jacket so good fortune would ride with him.  It did… and has for over ten years since. 

(For more on biker good luck charms, look for a chapter “Of Amulets and Things” from “Badass, The Harley Davidson Experience” on this blog: http://harleyandme.blogspot.com/)  

Yes! Lightning Can Strike...

...twice in the same place.

He had just graduated from college after a fast paced program that took less than three years including CLEP testing, extension courses and a 10-month Bootstrap. With the encouragement and patience of his wife, he had accomplished it while at the same time performing full time duty as an environmental health specialist for two of the three years, doing a one year military tour in Thailand and living in four locations.

Most of it was in night school using accelerated, eight week terms. He often referred to it as "Sears and Roebuck University" in terms of its quality but it got the job done. In fact, he had good professors, all working evenings to get some education into the 'young'uns.

He and his blushing bride were in the process of exploring options for their next steps and were primarily focused on leaving the military after their commitment to do some graduate work in law or some other field. At the same time, he applied for commissioning in the Air Force Medical Service. He had been a medic for over half of his previous 11 years and enjoyed the environment so the thought of continuing as an officer was appealing. Much to his surprise, he did well in the written Officer Qualifying Test and in interviews with Medical Service Corps Officers.  

He had come from a poor family. None of his relatives had college degrees that he knew of. Most were factory workers who lived in various Michigan automotive areas such as Lansing and Pontiac. His immediate family had moved around considerably and were poor even by auto worker standards. He had once slept on a cot in his uncle's basement for months while his family searched for jobs and the wherewithal to get their own home.  He had also lived for a while with his grandmother in the housing projects of a major Northwestern city.  

In all, he was pretty happy with how his life had gone. He found financial security of sorts when he enlisted shortly after finishing high school at the age of 17. He hadn't skipped a grade or anything. They just started young in the Dakotas where they lived earlier. Like many folks, he liked to read but was pretty apathetic about current news and world affairs.

He was unaware that it was not at all uncommon for someone with modest beginnings to pull themselves up by the bootstraps through education, work and good luck. He also had found a wife of extraordinary beauty, spirit and faith. He and his wife knew there was something more in challenges and rewards. They just had to keep chasing it and something would turn up.  

Less than a year later, they were visiting his family in the Northwest.  They had a home in the Phoenix area (stationed at Luke Air Force Base) and had arranged for a friend to watch their house while they were gone. One day the friend called to report things were going fine and mentioned that there was a letter from the Medical Service Corps... "Do you want me to open it and read it to you?"  "Sure."  "It says you have been accepted for commissioning in the Air Force Medical Service Corps." He was in the same room as his mother, father, wife and brother at the time so he covered the mouthpiece and shouted the news to his family.  

He quickly got the rest of the details from his friend and hung up the phone. The family was all excited and then his father asked him to come over to the dining table where he was sitting.  As soon as he did, his father rose, kicked him square in the butt and said, "All the time I was an enlisted man in the Navy, I wanted to kick a lieutenant in the ass!"  Being there with most of his family while receiving the news made it the moment of a lifetime for him.  The likelihood of it happening in those circumstances seemed almost like the odds of being struck by lightning.

Eight years later he found himself at an assignment near his mother and father's home.  This was after his wife had blessed him with a fine son, the Air Force had blessed him with several great bosses, several great jobs and a two-year hiatus to attend and complete graduate school at one of the best programs in the country.  He had recently been fortunate to get a humanitarian assignment to provide assistance after his father had gone through surgery that left him relatively immobile and in significant rehabilitation.  He had also been selected earlier to be Administrator of a Hospital while very junior in rank for the position and had just completed that assignment.

One day he, his wife and son were visiting his parents when he received a call from his old boss at the hospital where he had been the Administrator.  "Are you sitting?"  "Sure."...and he took a seat in the same area of his parents house...with the same family members present as there had been years earlier for the commissioning call.  "You have just been promoted to major three years below the primary zone." It was stunning news that had not even been considered. Once again, he covered the mouthpiece and shouted the news to his family.  This time, there was no congratulatory kick in the butt...even his father was too stunned to wisecrack. They all looked at each other and knew it was another of those amazing moments.

As he later investigated the circumstances around the promotion, he discovered that it occurred to roughly 1% of Air Force officers and it was due to an extremely rare combination of factors, great bosses who could write great performance reports, great jobs that became available at just the right time and a promotion board that may have literally flipped a coin to decide among 10 or 12 officers with matching records and matching runs of luck. Certainly there was good work involved but the fact was, it never would have happened without uncommonly good fortune.

Lightening... had struck twice in the same place.

In subsequent years, he was privileged to work in career development with yet another great boss, supporting his fellow Medical Service Corps officers with their assignments and job progression.  While there, he built a briefing describing what it took to become one of the final 10 or 12 officers who typically became candidates for the coin flip and possible promotion below the primary zone.  

There was great interest in the details of his briefing as many wanted to know how to function as a lightning rod.