What an exciting time that was! All noted in this episode: "Yes! Lightening Can Strike...". The Luke AFB newspaper even published an article about it: "Is the Sergeant, er, Lieutenant In?"
Late 1974 - Notified of first assignment as Second Lieutenant to USAF Hospital at Mountain Home, Idaho.
Julieann and I were always pretty dialed in to living somewhere in the West so this was a gift from the powers that be (It was Colonel Harold Batiste I believe).
Dec 31st, 1974 - Left Luke Air Force Base, Arizona. Last day as Air Force Staff Sergeant. Drove to Idaho.
We had a 1970 Cougar that sported a 351 Cleveland V-8. We were ready to tackle the world.
Jan 1st, 1975 - Reported for duty at Mountain Home Idaho. First day as genuine brown bar.
First job: Hospital Squadron Commander. This was a crazy experience to be sure. Overnight, I had to turn from someone who didn't care about Air Force Grooming standards as mandated in the infamous Air Force Regulation 35-10, to someone who had to enforce it.
Spring, 1975 - Attended Health Services Administration course at Sheppard Air Force Base, Wichita Falls Texas...to learn fundamentals of being a health care administrator. Instructors/gurus; "Smokey Stover", Major-Logistics; "Mac" McClean, Captain-Registrar-Patient Affairs; Gary Weishauer, Captain-Resource Management. Overall course supervisor, Keith W. Curtis, Major, MSC, PhD.
Members of our MSC class quickly became aware of the Curtis management style - sort of a blustery, straight forward, size-those-young-whippersnappers up Lombardi style that could be a little intimidating at first. He was right in our faces most of the time and we took to calling him "Doctor, Major Keith Curtis Sir" in recognition of his obvious pride in having a PhD. This, never to his face of course.
Some of us thought he pursued the "Dr." title to give him a more equal platform with the whacky group of physicians (can you say "Berry Planners?") we had in the Medical Service back in those days. For those of you don't know, Berry Plan docs were draftees in various stages of their medical training. Many were disgruntled (understatement) because they were in the military making a lot less money than their civilian counterparts.
We all made it through though...with very few hiccups, some great presentations from our instructors and guest speakers and some heavy O'Club partying to work off the tension.
I'll never forget, but I wish I could remember more, about the parting presentation to our class by "Doctor, Major Keith Curtis Sir." He had obviously taken a lot of time to prepare it, using color - I think fluorescent chalk on blackboard plus slides. His theme was a metaphor that went something like this; as MSCs, our job was to stick our hands in a "bucket of worms" and pull out something good. I was pretty dazzled although a few of my classmates thought it was over the top. But then again that was me, a North Dakota kid who had a patent on the word Naiveté.
Circa 1986 - The next and last time I recall seeing the Doctor was when he was a Colonel and Administrator of Big Willy. He had a couple of MSC interns with him and had stopped by the MSC assignments section at MPC where Paul Murrell and I were working. He gave me 'that look' and said something like; "So where do you want to be one day? In my job (as Administrator)?" He was referring to Wilford Hall Medical Center of course and I said; "Absolutely!" I left out the "Doctor Colonel Keith Curtis Sir" part out of my response and as a result now live to tell about it...
Spring 1987 - I loved the Corps but retired out of MPC and the Air Force with 24 years, almost half as an enlisted person. My second career in health care management went well plus Julieann and I got to raise our kids in one spot from then forward. Nevertheless, I have often wondered with some regret what it would have been like to stick around and compete for that Big Willy job...in the place where I pulled graveyard shift KP, peeling potatoes in the fall of 1963.
Circa 1990? - The good Doctor had retired and went on to become a management professor in the Health Care Management masters program at (I believe) the University of Oklahoma in the city. While there, he also wrote a textbook on management; "From Management Goal Setting to Organizational Results." Special price for university students...$85. I wanted to buy one but not at university prices.
Years later, I managed to locate a used copy on Amazon for a lot less and bought it. The book turned out to be an academic treatise quoting folks like Toffler, Maslow and Drucker. It had good basics and memorization pain for grad students but not for me as I had already studied most of those. I wanted to read something more visceral...about sticking my hands in a "bucket of worms" and pulling out something good. I wanted to be able to say; "Keith...you were right and I have done it. Thanks for the heads up!" So I'll just write it here. Now.
"Dr. Major Keith Curtis Sir" was a damn good man. I am proud to have known him.
2 comments:
As a fellow classmate, I fondly remember our nickname for "Dr. Major Keith Curtis". I also recall that many life lessons were crammed into a very busy 11 week period. Our class had a large number of prior-enlisted members including me. Collectively, we conveyed a "know it all attitude" that was inaccurate, inappropriate and a challenge for our instructors. Fortunately, the instructors were up to the task and helped us make the transition to junior officers. We we were also fortunate that they could see that we were rough around the edges but had some potential for future leadership roles. Like great coaches, they knew when to overlook our stupid mistakes and instill in us a desire to become great Medical Service Corps officers.
In my case, I know that the instructor group chose to keep me in the class when, by all measures, I deserved to be dismissed and that would have ended my brief career as a commissioned officer. My dismissal letter could have read that, "you displayed gross insubordination and conduct unbecoming an officer".
The incident that should have been my downfall turned into one of the most instructive and important moments of my life. It also instilled in me the notion that everyone deserves a second chance that has guided me throughout my professional career.
It was a warm Spring day in Whiskey Falls and "Dr. Major" decided that we needed to "fall-out" for a dress inspection in the parking lot. I recall telling my classmates that this was just some Mickey Mouse exercise that our prior enlisted group had endured many times during basic training. Captain Mac McClain lined us up in formation and Dr. Major began moving down the row pointing out minor uniform discrepancies. When he came to me, his view moved from head to toe. In a hushed tone, he noted that my gig line ( shirt, belt and zipper were not properly aligned) needed attention. In the dumbest moment of my young career, I screamed, "Sir Yes Sir!" just like we were taught in basic training. Except now, we were supposed to be officers and my response was completely unwarranted. I also recall Mac McClain's eyes almost popped out of his head. Major Curtis (I never referred to him as Dr Major after that) quickly finished the inspection and dismissed us. My classmates were completely silent and I quickly realized what a dumb ass thing that I had just done.
A few days later, Mac pulled me out of class and took me to Major Curtis' office. Major Curtis told me that he had planned to dismiss me from the class based upon my bad attitude. He also didn't think that I was officer material. However, he said that the other instructors felt that I had potential and would hopefully learn from the incident if I was given a second chance. Fortunately for me and my family, he chose to give me a second chance. I have been eternally grateful for his willingness to look beyond my immaturity and see that I had some potential that would benefit the Air Force Medical Service. Obviously, I have never forgotten this learning moment and have recalled it many times when working with others. Just like breaking wild horses, our instructor team groomed our class to produce some exceptional "mudders". We weren't thoroughbreds, but we ran a great race.
Thank you for your comment Dale. Not so sure about your "thoroughbred" reference Dale although the "mudder" part fits perfect. I think we were exactly like thoroughbreds, tough to get in the gate but came out fast and chomping at the bit.
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