Soldier Boy I - Prelude

He may look decent but he knows nothing.
(He's about to learn though...)

17 and a quarter - fresh out of high school
Not advanced academically
Just started early as a kid (hayseed) in North Dakota

Out of four high school years
Spent first two and a half
In Huron, Ohio

Enjoyed one class - "Technical Drawing" at Renton, Washington HS
Actually two - "Speech" at Huron, Ohio HS... but Mr Adler, "The Big Bopper" (RIP)
Kicked me out of that one forever

Kicked out of another as well in Huron...
Robbie C and I competed for lowest grade in "Latin"
I was disqualified from the competition when
Mrs. McKillip turned and caught me giving her
The single digit salute from the back of the classroom

As a result I was booted from class and sentenced to
"Honors Study Hall" for some reason
There I would sit and do...nothing
While my fellow students would sit and do...something
For an hour each day

Eventually it turned out the most valuable class
I would ever take was an elective
"Personal Typing"
I was at Huron HS, a sophomore  I think
Our teacher was young and to me, she was gorgeous
She had this deeply disturbing quality as well

When she was showing you how to use the keyboard
She would bend over your back
Placing her hands over yours and gently moving your fingers
To the correct position

All innocent enough
Except for the fact that her breasts
Would rest square on your back while she was doing it

As a fourteen year old student with hormones on permanent overdrive
This would reduce me to the mental level of a doberman humping a fireplug

In spite of that I learned to type 
A skill that would serve again and again
Throughout the remainder of my life

First two years in high school I was "college prep" material
Second two years it was, "Just get through will you?"

We moved from Huron to Seattle in the middle
Traumatic stuff for a fifteen year old

I majored in pool the second half of high school... the billiards kind that is
After hours of course...plus when I could skip classes without getting caught
Came out though with a 2.0 GPA - some kind of miracle that was.

Finally, a graduation ceremony and we were turned loose on society
In Seattle you had to be 18 to be "bonded"
I think that meant a third party insuring you against theft or injury or something
I found out I couldn't even pump gas
(my highest aspiration at the time)
Unless I was... "bonded"

So I wandered the streets of downtown Seattle
And played pool for a while
Famous historical joints (really) like Ben Paris and
The 211 Club (est. 1898)
(The 211 site is now the home of the Seattle Symphony - go figure...)

One day I walked past the recruiter's offices
Saw the different uniforms there
And thought the Air Force blues were pretty cool
I don't think the Marines had a display
Or I probably would have chose them!

Shortly thereafter, Mom signed for me
Three months out of high school, four months short of 18
And I was off to eight weeks of basic training

Twenty-four years, an amazing inspirational wife, a great son,
Bachelors and masters degrees, and many remarkable experiences later
Half as enlisted and half as officer
I would retire as a BTZ Major in the Air Force Medical Service Corps
Along the way I learned something in spite of myself

Skyway Bowl High Sch(P)ool

His family moved from Huron, Ohio to Seattle when he was 15.

Renton High School, Renton, Washington

His father found had found work earlier. A few months later sent for the rest.

The "rest," including mother, anxious teenager and younger brother, boarded a Greyhound bus for a 70+ hour trip across the U.S.

They were going from a small town to a big city and he was scared.

The high school he was from had over 400 students.

The high school he would transfer to had over 4,000.
The freshman class alone had over 1,000 "boomers."

To him, the stately brick facade and tower on the new school was intimidating.

Much to his surprise he blended in pretty quick.

No one picked him out for good, or bad intentions.

After a few weeks, he tied up with a few and called them friends.

All were from similar low income backgrounds.

They had very little money but avoided crime... for no particular reason.

Some of them picked up a few bucks from odd jobs in the area.

When they did have money, they usually headed for Skyway Park Bowl.

The alley had a half-dozen pool tables and that was what drew them.

The Ohio youth was fascinated by the game and became an avid student.

He studied the geometry of table angles, 

the physics of "English" or ball spin.

He worked on the grip, the stroke, the tempo, 

The proper roughing and chalking the cue stick.

He practiced the best methods to break the rack of 15 balls.

He learned position pool and the art of thinking several shots ahead.

He loved the smooth texture of the stick and the felt table covering.

He loved the click of cue ball against object ball.

He loved the sound of a ball falling into a woven leather pocket.

Together, he and his pals made that place their place.

They got to know the night manager so well,

He would let them play free after midnight.

It was an all night establishment and they would often do just that...play all night.

The manager must have known he was keeping them off the streets and out of trouble.

Eventually, he would often hop on the bus to downtown Seattle.

There he would play small stakes 8-ball games at a buck a pop. 

The venues were historical (as in gone today) downtown Seattle spots. 

They included the venerable Ben Paris underground and the Club 211 (est. 1896). 

Both were sites of many high stakes games and championship matches.

In later years, he would occasionally come back to the game,

Playing a few racks with a handsome old 21 ounce Brunswick cue,

His wife of many years gave him before they were married.

A few shots and the memories would flood back.
(Fifty years later, he still has that stick in fine shape.)

Today he fondly mentions to anyone who seems to care...

That he majored in pool in High School.

You never forget something you love or have loved...