They've Gone Home

Kris and my China Dolls left for Tampa International at 7:45 this morning, and I just received a call that they had arrived in Indianapolis at 2:55 pm ------

Katie asked before she left this morning what I was going to do today after she was gone. I said I would probably cry a lot. And, sure enough, there were tears; but through them I managed to get the house back in order and the Christmas tree taken down put in the attic. Tomorrow, I will run the vacuum and mop the kitchen floor. With that done, most of the evidence of their visit will be gone...and loneliness will set in.

Most of their visit has been recorded in previous posts. But I have to say that this year’s visit was the best of all. I was afraid it wouldn’t be, due to having to have cataract surgery the day after their arrival. But all went well. I was able to take them to the swimming pool every day and go golfing with both girls on Christmas Eve.

The ‘highlight’ for me, though, was when Katie said that she wanted to go golfing alone with me. On Wednesday the 29th, we went. Our street was being sealed that day, so Kate and I had to walk (3/4 mile) to the golf course, carrying a 4 wood, 5 iron, 8 iron, a putter and my shaving-kit bag with balls and tees. I think in walking to the golf course with Katie, two hours caddying for her and our walk back home together created a bond between Kate and me that will last a lifetime.

The only disappointment of the visit was that the weather did not cooperate. We had two freezing nights and cool daytime temperatures. It didn’t seem to bother my two granddaughters, though. They were in summer dress the full time they were here.

To give you an idea of the unusual weather; following is a brief excerpt from today’s St. Pete Times: <<< This year’s weather was unlike anything Tampa Bay has seen in the 120 years records have been kept. It was an extraordinary year of temperature extremes, with the coldest winter on record and the hottest summer. And now we’ve posted one more final mercury-defying feat; it's the coldest December in recorded history. >>>

Happy New Year to all!

The Big Nine OHHHH!!!

Someone asked me today, "How does it feel to be 90 years old?," and I said, "It feels GREAT!"  And it really does.  But if you would have asked me 25 years ago if I would have made it to 90, I don't think I would have said, "Yes." 

I certainly feel fortunate...and lucky.  There are so many things I thought about -- in addition to my deep, deep grief -- when my only remaining sibling Chuck died last month. It makes you realize you're next, but you also wonder why you are the last one living of 5 kids.  And Lomie is the last one living of 12 kids.  She will, of course, become a nonagenarian on July 10th.  She reminds me of that practically every day.  We are both very lucky.

 

So today was a great 90th Birthday.  Kris and the girls enjoy my cooking when they come to visit, but today, they pretty much insisted on doing the cooking.  Mid-afternoon, Adrian and Katie made my birthday cake, and it was still a little bit warm when everyone sang "Happy Birthday" to me.  That cake sure was good!  Tonight, the granddaughters gave me a haircut, and I told them they would have to come back every month to trim me up.

We have all had a terrific time together, and the time has flown by.  But I know they have to go back to Indiana sometime, and that time is tomorrow morning.  As well as things have gone, it makes me wonder why I ever worried about them not wanting to come down when I thought I would be limited by that cataract surgery on my right eye.

I have a renewed interest in adding articles to my blog now, but I would sure like some suggestions.  And now, my blog will truly be Nonagenarian Non-Sense -- thoughts and opinions of a 90-year-old. 

Sometimes I feel like I talk too much about myself -- whether it's about growing up, my time in the service, or my time after WWII.  But Kris keeps telling me to just keep doing what I have been doing...that my story is a "living history."  Although I feel a little too self-centered about it, Kris says readers don't take it that way...they "see" all the scenery, the other people that are part of the story, the events that take place, and all the other interesting details. 

But if you can please let know what you would like to read about, I will do my best to put those ideas on here.

Thank you for all your comments, encouragement, and continued contact.  

Brrrrrrrrrrr!

It's been cold here in paradise, and I haven't been happy about it.  Yesterday, it was 23 degrees when I woke up, and we'd had a hard frost.  Even by early afternoon, the temperature was only 53.  But the girls wanted to go for a swim.  It was sunny out, so we went.

Today, Katie wanted to go golfing again (Adrian didn't), so we played 9 holes.  She could be the next Michelle Wie.  When she gets ahold of one, she can knock it a country mile!

Tomorrow I will officially become a nonagenarian!  Katie and Adrian will make an angelfood cake for me, but they won't be able to ice much of it.  Lomie found the icing they bought last week at Winn-Dixie and ate most of it!

Past 3 Months

It’s been both a frustrating and pleasant 3 months. It started in October when I went to the County Tax Office to get my driver license renewed. I failed the eye test and had to go to my optometrist for an eye exam. He said I had very heavy cataracts in both eyes, but thought he could improve mv vision enough to pass the eye test by doing cataract surgery to my left eye. So I had the surgery done November 9th. That same day, I was notified that my kid brother, Chuck, had died. I was not able to drive to the Veteran’s Cemetery at Bushnell, FL for his funeral. It hurt!!!

The good news is that the cataract surgery to my left eye was successful, and the surgeon gave me a form certifying my vision as being good enough for my driver license. On November 17th, I mailed it in with a check and a mail-in driver license form. My computer showed that the check was cashed on November 22nd. 

Then around December 10th, something happened to the vision in my right eye.  It was dim and fuzzy.  So I went back to the eye surgeon for another eye exam. He was puzzled as to what happened and called in a Retina Specialist. The retina doctor gave me a thorough exam and finally gave up, saying that the cataract in my right eye was so heavy that he couldn’t see through it. So an appointment was made for cataract surgery to my right eye. It was to be done on December 22nd. 

I e-mailed Kris when I found out I'd have to have surgery on my right eye, and I suggested she and the girls might want to reconsider coming to Florida for their annual visit, if I was going to be restricted in my activity.  I didn't want those granddaughters to be mad or feel like their visit would be boring.  Kris called me as soon as she read my e-mail and wouldn't have any of that!  She said they were coming, and the only reason the girls would be mad is if they weren't able to come.

Kris, Adrian and Katie arrived on December 21st. Thankfully, the surgery on my right eye was successful, and the doctor seems to think the vision, though still a little fuzzy, will improve over the next few weeks. As of right now, I cannot read newspaper print, but my distance vision is excellent.

The granddaughters and I have been to the swimming pool three times so far, and they played nine holes of golf on Christmas Eve with their mother and I taking carts and caddying for them.

And, probably the best news of all, I finally received my driver license in the mail December 23rd.  It doesn't expire until December 30, 2016!  I doubt that I will need to renew it again!

Since I turn a true nonagenarian this Thursday (December 30th), I plan to keep my blog more up-to-date for the foreseeable future.

Sorry for the interruption in stories, but I hope you understand.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas morning.  The girls slept late, but when they got up, they were eager to open gifts.  Kris is making a ham and other fixin's for our dinner.  We'll walk down to the pool later today, then play poker.  It is a perfect day.  Merry Christmas!

Christmas Eve Golf Date

I golfed today with my two granddaughters, Adrian and Katie, who are visiting from Indiana with their mother. 

It was a great activity for Christmas Eve.

Beauty Pageant

This is a photo of Katie and her escort on stage at the Heritage Beauty Pageant.. My princess didn’t win the Miss Heritage title, but in my heart, there is no girl her age that is more beautiful. It’s hard to believe that she is only eleven years old.....

Gotcha Day

It was 12 years ago today that Kristina and I were in Nanchang, China in quest for a baby girl. Our search ended when Kristina was handed a beautiful baby girl named Hong Xian Dong.  Kris, suddenly, became a very happy mother, and I a very proud grandfather! 

Khartoum

The Technical School photo posted July 12 of the neat group of enlisted men induced me to post this photo of eleven raunchy (officer and gentleman) pilots for comparison. It was taken while I was stationed at Khartoum in 1944.

I recently made a search on the Internet, trying to see what info I could find relating to the air base at Khartoum (Central Africa Division of the Air Transport Command) during WWII. There was practically no mention of it. Maybe it was because, in the scheme of things, it was too small to mention.. It was the home base for 24 of us pilots. There was seldom more than 6 or 7 of us there at any one time. The base was operated similar to a Wells Fargo stage line of the old West; a stop for fuel and crew change, moving passengers and cargo back and forth between the United States and China.

I’m glad that I have written and kept a few stories about the Khartoum air base. I don’t think any will ever be found in history books. By-the-way: In the photo, I am 3rd from the right, back row.

68 Years Ago on this Date

     I pulled out an old 5 year diary, given to me as a highschool graduation present. I noticed that on July 13, 1942 I had made an entry that related a little bit to the photo posted yesterday.
     After graduation from Armament School, I was sent to Craig Field, Alabama. There, besides being an aircraft armorer, I was also rated as first class air mechanic and squadron crew chief.
     The diary entry reads: “I have all my planes ready to go to Eglin Field, Florida tomorrow, for gunnery practice. I will go see Lomie tonight to tell her that I will be gone for the next three weeks.”

Mystery Photo

I do not recall ever seeing this photo before or remember it being taken. It is of me and my graduating class from Aircraft Armament School at Lowry Field, Colorado. I am 5th from the right in middle row. I received the photo yesterday by email from my brother-in-law, who had received it from one of my nephews. How my nephew happened to have it is a mystery that I am trying to unravel.

It brings back a lot of pleasant memories from the earliest days of my military service. The Technical School started off my Air Force career in good fashion. I had graduated top of the class. Far different from my C-average high school grades. I muddled through high school with indifference. However, anything relating to airplanes aroused my interest. I wanted to learn!

Lomie's Birthday

Today is Lomie’s 89th birthday. She prefers a watermelon on her birthday instead of a birthday cake. The photo shows her taking her first bite from this year’s birthday melon, but you can bet your bottom dollar that it will be all gone before the day is over. I don’t know who looks the sweetest; her or the melon..... I think I will take a bite of each.

Gone Again

Smokey has wandered off again.  He wasn't here all day yesterday and I haven't seen him today.  When I saw him Wednesday, I couldn't see that he had been harmed or misstreated in anyway, but he was very thin.  I know I shouldn't worry about him going hungry; he knows where to come when he is.  However, he sure isn't the fat old tom-cat that he was a month ago.

Home Again

Smokey, my old tom-cat, appeared again today for the first time in over a month. He was skin and bones, but otherwise seemed to be in good condition. He ate like he was starved to death, then laid down and let me give him a good combing. He has now had his second helping of food and seems to be contented sleeping at our front entrance. I still can’t help but wonder where he spends his time when he wanders off for extended periods of time. He certainly wasn’t fed well while he was away.

Writer's Block

I used to think clearly and type about 60 words per minute. Now I type a few words and then have to go back to correct a lot of the typos. That’s not all bad; I use it as an excuse for not having to admit that I have writer’s block. Instead, I pass it off as my new writing style, saying the pauses give me time to think about what to write next..

13th Birthday

Today is Adrian’s 13th birthday. She has been performing in the Hall of Fame Nationals (dance competition) at St. Charles, IL all week. She should be on the way home as I write this.

When I first held her in my arms, 12 years ago, in China. I really didn’t expect I would live long enough to see her grow up to be such a beautiful and talented teenager.

Brothers

Chuck & Ken  6/27/10

Chuck and I finally got together for the first time in over three years.  We met at Perkins Restaurant for brunch today.  We had a nice visit and talked a bit about old times.  I guess you could say that we both are remarkably well considering he is age 87 and I at age 89.  We plan to meet again during the Christmas holiday season,

My Dad

I was lucky in having a Good Dad. When he was with me, I had the world by the tail, lot of joy, many tender moments...... and sobbing tears at the end.

A World View

The heat and humidity we’ve had during the month of June in Florida, reminded me of this picture taken in June of 1944 at Accra, Ghana near the equator on the coast of West Africa. I’m pretty sure the heat and humidity there were higher there than here. However, at age 23, with the sea-breeze, pineapples, bananas and getting to see the world, I did not mind it. (That’s me on the left, enjoying a pineapple)

As for seeing the world; thanks to being a WWII pilot, I saw much of it. Enough to discard any notions I otherwise would have carried to the grave.

Whining

I’ve not felt very good for the past two weeks and have not been in a very good mood, either. The only thing I can blame it on is the weather. After a record cold winter in Florida, it now looks like we are going to have a record breaking hot summer. Temperatures have been near 95 for daytime highs since the first of June.... and it ain’t even officially summer yet. I suppose Mother Nature is trying to even things out, but I prefer that she do it by staying closer to the norms than the extremes.

Buddies

Photo from the front page of the Bicknell Daily News

Chuck and I have always been close buddies; especially when we were growing up. When I was about 8 years old and Chuck at age 6, dad strapped us in the front seat of a barn stormer’s biplane for our first airplane ride. We were not up very long before Chuck unbuckled our safety belt and stood up in the seat so he could see out better. Needless to say, our first airplane ride was cut short. But I think from that day forward, we both had a strong desire to be pilots when we grew up. Our goal was achieved during WWII.

Looking Forward

A tentative date (Sunday, June 27) has been set for my get-together with Chuck. We plan to meet for brunch at Perkins Restaurant near Bayonet Point. It will be just a short drive for me, but it’s not totally unfair.  Chuck will have a 60 year old chauffeur (his son) driving a new car, compared to me, an 89 year old man driving a 17 year old car :-)

Firebird

In yesterday’s post I mentioned that Kris had her own new car. This is a photo of her and the new 1970 Pontiac Firebird. A pre-highschool graduation gift from me and her mom.

A Good Year

This picture of Lomie, Kris and me was taken on our 25th wedding anniversary in 1969. It was a great time in our lives. Lomie and I happily married, Kris had her own new car and was ready to graduate from highschool with high honors, I was at the height of my career with General Electric, our mortgage was paid off, and all of us were in excellent health. Who could ask for anything more?

Chuck

My kid brother, Chuck, has started the ball rolling on a get-together. It has been 3 or 4 years, maybe longer, since we last saw each other. It’s a shame! We only live 40 miles apart, but in our old age, both of us have limited driving ability. I haven’t driven more than 10 miles from home in several years. It’s about the same with Chuck. However, he has a son that lives nearby that takes him on longer trips, occasionally. That’s partly in the plan for our getting together. He hopes his son can find time soon to drive him up this way. Hopefully, they can come about 30 miles, leaving me with only about 10 miles to drive to a meeting place.

If things develop as I hope, I’ll take a picture of us two old brothers, nearing our 90s, getting together again, more than likely for the last time, and post it to this blog.

Beauty

My 11 year old granddaughter, Katie QuJie, is going to be in a beauty contest called the Miss Huntertown Heritage Pageant. She already has her ‘Sunday best’ dress that is a bright red satin, sleeveless, and has a pretty rhinestones bow and seam-line at the waistband. She will have two other wardrobe changes... school clothes and play-ware.. She will strut her stuff 2 or 3 thimes, doing a dance and being interviewed in the red satin dress.

Needless to say, I’ll be heartbroken if she doesn’t win all the marbles :-)

Gut Feeling

Intuition is knowing something for certain without knowing it for sure. It’s a ‘gut feeling’ I often experience; which, when it happens, delivers an answer or decision that I somehow know is correct.

Fun

     This pile of junk was once a 16 year old boy’s pride and joy. A 1929 Model ‘A’ Ford Roadster; completely rebuilt, souped-up a little, new tires and painted red with black fenders. It would hold five fun loving teenagers comfortably, but often carried more with lap-sitters. It was ideal for joy riding; going to strip-mine ponds for a swim, matinee movies at Linton, or to the roller-skating rink at Elnora.... And best of all, for moon-light rides with Margaret Beth.
     After a battle with a large oak tree, that demolished the radiator and twisted the front end out of line, it was no longer worth repairing.... The photo taken a year or so later shows the consequence.

My Story

The previous post about my last flight as an Air Force pilot was taken from the last page of an autobiographical story that I wrote more than thirty years ago. The story tells about a whirlwind romance and my flying experiences during WWII...... I quit flying airplanes October 12, 1945. but the romance continues.

October 12, 1945

With the war being over, my assignment was to ferry pursuit type aircraft from factories to the Reconstruction Finance Company in Walnut Ridge, Arkansas for mothballing. I truly enjoyed flying single engine fighter aircraft, but.often I would be gone a week or more just to get in a couple of hours flying time  I had been married to Lomie for a little more than nine months and I was gone from home more days than I had with her. .

On October 12, 1945 - I deadheaded in a C-47 to Hunter Field at Savannah, Georgia to pick up a P-51D to be flown to Walnut Ridge, Arkansas. Although I had less than 12 hours flying time in a P-51, it was my all time favorite airplane, I was looking forward to flying one again. Also, I thought it would give me the opportunity, to make a stop in Atlanta to call on Frances Littleton, Lomie’s best friend, who stood with us when we were married last December.

After landing at Hunter Field and signing the proper papers and filing my flight plan, I walked out to the beautiful new airplane that was waiting for me to fly it to Walnut Ridge. I slipped on my parachute and climbed into a Mustang’s cockpit for the first time in over three months and stared at an instrument panel turned unfamiliar with time. Though I was intimate with many airplanes, for the first time, it dawned on me that to be distant from the airplane one is about to fly does not invite longevity..

Tsik, tsik, tsit, and at last, a rumble from the P-51's Rolls Royce engine; the rpm turned round on its tiny dial. So much of flying is habit. Once one learns an airplane, our hands and eyes know how to make it fly long after our minds have forgotten. Had someone stood at the cockpit and asked me how to start the engine, I couldn’t have said..... only my hands that finished the starting sequence knew what they had done.

The perfume of burning high-octane fuel sifted into the cockpit ---- memories of a hundred other flights with it. But for some reason or other, this flight seemed special... as if I was trying to escape.... But escape from what? Is escaping and running away the meaning of flying?. And if I can escape, what am I to find????

I taxied to the runway; saw a few cars stop at the airport fence to watch. There wasn’t much for them to see. I pointed the Mustang’s nose down the white center line, locked the canopy and pressed full throttle. A few seconds later we were airborne. Wheels up..... with free sky and airspeed, flying the P-51 was a delight..

The flight to Atlanta was very pleasant. However, after getting clearance from Atlanta tower to land on runway 17, events for the worse began happening. I badly overshot the field on my landing attempt — something I didn’t recall ever doing before. I made a slick landing on my second attempt, but it did not erase my disgust and feeling of shame when I reported to operations. However, my spirits began to brighten a little with the thought of getting to see Frances again... I found a pay phone; placed a call to her — no answer — and fifteen minutes later; still no answer. After the third call without an answer, with deflated spirits again, I went to operations to file a flight plan – destination Walnut Ridge.

I taxied out to the runway, and got clearance for take-off. — sped down the runway — up and away. The remainder of the flight to Walnut Ridge was routine — but my joy of flying had diminished considerably. It was as if the go-around incident at Atlanta was sort of an omen, trying to tell me something.

After landing at Walnut Ridge and getting my delivery receipt, I deadheaded back to Romulus in a B-25 that was going that way. I signed in with Romulus operations, then before going home, I decided to check the bulletin board; something I very seldom did because most of the notices pertained to bachelor pilots. This time, however, staring me straight in the face, was a notice in bold letters: PILOTS ELIGIBLE FOR DISCHARGE. My name was on the list.. I asked myself, “Is that the answer to the Atlanta omen?”

“Know when enough is enough, Kenny. When an end is reached there will be a new beginning.” I knew at once, it was time for me to quit flying!

The P-51D was the last airplane I flew. I was separated from the service on October 30, 1945 at Chanute Field, Illinois — the very same place I enlisted nearly 6 years before. I had enough ‘leave time’ to make my official discharge date to read January 6.1946. My orders read: “At midnight on the day you return home, you will revert to inactive duty. Your commission will remain in force during the present emergency and up to six months thereafter unless sooner notified.”

Mind Game II

Two days ago, I wrote that for ‘peace of mind’ I had quit watching Fox News. I need to clarify that a bit: If I decide to watch TV news again, it will be Fox News. Listening to Glen Beck and Bill O’Reilly is far better than listening to the one-sided rantings of the likes of Rachel Maddow and Keith Overton on MSNBC . It’s just that I’ve found all four of them to be extremely biased, and I am not fortunate enough to have ‘A Built-in, Shockproof Shit Detector’. Therefore, for ‘peace of mind’, I’ve decided, at least for the time-being, to quit watching all cable TV News....

Brothers and Sis

This photo of Lomie and two of her brothers was taken in 1985

From left to right: Newel, Lomie and Harris. Both brothers are now deceased.

Mind Game

     For the past year or so, my general outlook on world conditions has been getting dark and gloomy. It looked like the whole world was falling apart; especially within our government and financial institutions!
     Last week, I decided I did not want to feel this way any longer. Soooo.... I quit watching Fox News.  I’m already pleasantly surprised.... I feel much better :-)

Sisters

This is a photo taken in 1941 of my wife Lomie and her sisters. Wish I had a clearer picture but this is the best I have. The girls, left to right, are Marvis, Lomie, Evalou and Venola. Lomie is the only one still living.

Outrage

I’ve been overwhelmed by an all-consuming sense of outrage lately. I’m angry all the time over stuff I really don’t know anything about or if it actually affects me. Do you suppose it could be because I’ve been watching too much of Glenn Beck and Bill O'Reilly? :-)

Smokey

Smokey is a stray cat that has been hanging around our front door for over two years. I haven’t seen him for at least ten days. It would probably be best if he never returns; it’s against association rules to feed strays. But I have to admit, I really miss him. I enjoyed feeding, petting and talking to the big ole tom-cat several times a day. I hope he returns.... just to know that he is still alive and well.

Papa Tucker

     Lomie and I made at least one visit to Alabama each year. We never missed a July 4th family reunion as long as Mama and Papa Tucker were alive. Our visits usually lasted at least one week each time.
     Mama Tucker accepted me in the family from the first time we met, but Papa Tucker seemed more distant. It wasn’t until our third visit that Papa began to warm up to me a little bit. It started one morning when we were setting out on the front porch together. He took out his watch to see what time it was. It had stopped! He wound and shook and it; it still wouldn’t start. I asked if he would like to go into town to see if we could get it fixed. “Yes”, he said, ‘But I want to drive.”
     So, we jump in his pickup and head toward Centreville. We had not gone more than a mile until he noticed a large rattle snake crossing the road. I don’t know whether it was his driving skill or pure luck, but Papa ran over the snake’s head, hitting the brakes at the same time. He got out of the truck and took a tire tool to finish killing the rattler. I was stunned and a bit skittish; snakes scare the hell out of me. Papa picked up the big rattler and threw it in the back of the pickup.
     We went on into town and drove up in front of the Centreville Press. Papa got out and went in, bringing a reporter out with him. Papa picked up the snake by the tail and raised it above his head to show off its full length. The reporter ran back in and got a cameraman. We got our picture taken together with Papa giving me the honor of holding the rattler’s tail above my head; showing that it was over six feet long. I kept a copy of the Centreville Press article for several years. I wish I still had it, but it probably got lost in our move to Florida. .
     After the excitement, we went to a drug store that had watches for sale. They told Papa they couldn’t fix his watch... I already knew they couldn’t or wouldn’t... So, I bought him another, almost exactly like his broken one for about $3. Papa and I were finally beginning to be good friends! We and his boys had a lot to talk about for the rest of my visit.

The Tucker Family

This photo taken in 1941 is of  Mama and Papa Tucker with their 11 children. My wife Lomie is in the front row, second from the right. She and I attend 50 consecutive Tucker family reunions (1946-96) 

Lomie is the only one that is still living.

Early Lesson

I grew up during the great depression,.and that has left me with both plus and minus signs; mostly plus.

My teen years were spent in the 1930s when families lived from day to day and clung to hope. I was lucky to have a dad that was self employed as a back-yard mechanic. His income varied quite a bit, and we had to live accordingly. Mom was a strict disciplinarian, teaching me the value of work and saving. Mornings were for household chores, tending gardens, mowing yards, etc. I was free to do about anything I chose in the afternoons and evenings.

I have never been a big spender; always living within my means but not to any extreme. My investments are conservative and my politics are the same, because I remember.

Ballerina

I had to do it,,,, My ballerina is just too beautiful not to show her off one more time. Notice her long black hair.

This picture taken of Kate in ballet competition at Indianapolis last week.

One Day at a Time

Day by day I’m approaching my 90th birthday, yet I seem to be living in my rear view mirror. It’s hard to look forward. Though I’m thankful for my good health, old age excludes me from any more travels or anything very exhausting. It’s either slow or no-go when it comes to chores or sports that I used to do or participate in without thinking twice about them.

Ralph Alonzo Laughlin

This picture of Dad and his race car was taken in 1918. It is my favorite photo of Dad   I have an 8 x 10 framed copy of it on a wall in my den. Dad enjoyed dirt track racing and riding motor cycles as a young man but gave up both after he married Mom.

Another Day Older

     When I was young, I looked ahead in terms of years and decades. Now that I’m nearly a nonagenarian, I look ahead in terms of days and weeks, beginning with climbing out of bed each morning hoping for a day filled with more positives than negatives.
     So I approach my 90s a bit surprised; but hoping the surprise lasts a while longer.

Beauty!

Kate performed in Ballet competition at Indianapolis last weekend.

I received this photo of her today.

Needless to say how proud I am of my beautiful 11 year old granddaughter.

The 1930s in Sandborn

In the early 1930s, candy for us kids was priced by the penny and a hot dog at the local restaurant cost us only a nickel.  We could see a Saturday afternoon movie for a dime.  There was always a feature film (usually cowboy) and a serial. The latter would bring us back the next week to see how the chapter-ending predicament was solved.

Lovely Lola

My kid brother, Chuck, was also a pilot during WWII. In fact he received his silver wings before I did. He was a fighter pilot, flying a P-38 on missions over Germany and other European targets. The photo is of him in Italy with his airplane named after our mother. He made the Air Force his career. Retired after 20 years as a Lt. Col.

It Happens

I know I am old and sometimes forgetful. But then again, some of life is just as well forgotten ...  I still remember the important things.

My Favorite Flight - Oct 2, 1945

I took off from the Bell Aircraft Factory airstrip at Niagra Falls and it wasn’t long before I was over Indianapolis; there I dropped the King Cobra down to about 500 feet and followed State Road 67 directly to Sandborn. It took less than 15 minutes to fly the ninety miles from Indianapolis. As soon as I spotted Sandborn I dropped down to less than 100 feet and flew directly over my home, rattling the tree tops. It was easy to see Dad and Chuck waving in the back yard. I pulled up to about 2000 feet — peeled off and dived to about 100 feet again, this time making a strafing sweep right down the main street of the tiny town. Mom was standing out in front of her restaurant... Believe me: I was low enough to easily recognize her. Up again and one more dive down to make another sweep over my home to see if I could see my kid sister, Lavon.... I didn’t, so I pulled up, wiggled my wings good bye to Sandborn ....  There's more to this story.  I'll try to finish it in future posts.

Learning

By surrounding yourself with only people who think and act just like you, you may be missing out on some valuable experiences. Clashing ideas are educational ideas -- they either teach you something new, or teach you a new way of defending your own position. Don't be afraid of the choices you've made in your life. Ask questions and learn how to live and let live.- rkl

Celebrity

In July of 1986, I played in a ‘celebrity golf tournament’ with Forrest Tucker. He is second from left in the photo; I’m to the far right in the loud trousers :-)


Forrest Tucker was best known for his acting role as, Sgt. Morgan O’Rourke, a scheming soldier in the post-Civil War military farce, F-Troop; a TV series that ran from 1965 to 1967. He also starred in several movies. He died October 25, 1986, just 3 months after this picture was taken.

Old Fashion Fun

I wonder how many of you that reads this have ever been on an old fashion hay-ride. They were popular during my high school years. A team of horses pulling a hay wagon with a load of hay; with a dozen or two fun loving boys and girls on board. We would stop at a wooded area, build a bon-fire and roast wieners and marshmallows. Then on the way home, after dark, the ride in the hay would produce sounds of squealing and laughing, due to a little petting and a few stolen kisses..

Been There, Done That

One evening while sitting around a cocktail table with other Transport pilots at the Khartoum Airbase Officers Lounge, instead of the usual topics of discussion about women and airplanes, the subject of what we wanted to do after the war came up. One of the pilots, a little drunk and homesick, said, “When I get home, I’m going to buy a rocking chair, put it on the front porch and rock.... And when someone comes along and asks me to go somewhere, I’m going to tell him, ‘No thanks’, I’ve already been there!” End of discussions... but not the drinking.... We all suddenly felt the same way.

Easter Morning

The azaleas in the woods back of our home are getting prettier every day.  This photo was taken this morning. 

Flying High

One of the beautiful things about flying solo on the long flights to Alaska in a King Cobra was the quality of the spiritual experience.

First Trip to Alaska

After returning from my tour of duty overseas, I was assigned to Gore Field, Montana. While there, in the spring and early summer of 1945, I delivered twelve P-63 King Cobras, purchased by Russia, to Fairbanks. Alaska. Following is a story of the first trip:  Note the Red Star of Russia on planes in photo.

The P-63 King Cobra had the maximum fuel load; consisting of two full wing tanks, a full external belly tank and two full external wing tanks.... I pulled out on to the runway, lined up with the white center line; pushed the throttle full forward and roared down the runway..... 100 knots,110, 120.... I tried very gently to ease the King Cobra’s nose wheel up; it didn’t want to come. At 130 knots, I was eating up the runway very fast --- the nose wheel finally lifted --- and I was airborne. Gear up, flaps up, climbing, but just barely, low and straining to clear the trees. What a thrill! I got my breath back with a little more altitude. I flew on past Calgary; then followed the Alaskan Highway — sometimes just a few feet above the roadway. But when I entered mountains, I climbed as high as I safely could without putting on the oxygen mask; just to marvel at the beauty of the Rockies from Whitehorse to Dawson Creek. Every trip was the same; undescribable — beautiful raw nature.

Mom & Chuck

Another depression era photo. It is of Chuck and Mom working in the garden; probably in early spring of 1938. It looks like they might be planting potatoes, with Mom dropping seed and Chuck covering.

Spring Time in Summertree

Spring is running late this year, but the azaleas are in full bloom now. The photo is a view of wild azaleas in the woods adjacent to our back yard.

Time and Plans

To the followers who read Kris’ comment to this morning’s post: I have to admit that she was correct in my wanting to make a long and interesting road trip with her shortly after she got her driver’s license. I was thinking of a trip following the Alaskan Highway to Fairbanks or a trip down the Baja peninsula to La Paz. But it never worked out. One or the other of us was always too busy with something else.

However, later in our lives, something better happened. We made two ‘Journeys to China’ together in quests for Xiandong and QuJie. They were the two most thrilling adventures in my life. The road trip we missed could not have compared with either of them.

Time

There is an essay in this morning’s StPeteTimes regarding ‘time’ as it relates to old age. In part, it reads: “Guess what, kiddies, your golden years are the time when you’re suddenly aware that time is short and getting shorter every day; and it exactly coincides with your increasing inability to do the things you’d planned to do.”

I sort of take exception: I’m damn near 90 years old and I can’t think of a thing that I’ve missed doing that I had planned to do. Oh yes, there were things left undone, that should’ve been done, but I didn’t ‘plan’ on doing them, simply because I didn’t want to....

Basketball

I’ve been extremely fortunate in every phase of my life. It’s hard to say which was the happiest; early childhood, high school, pilot during WWII, wooing Lomie, 27 years with GE, or retirement. But I have to rate my last two years of high school near the top. Being on the basketball team played a big part in it.... I am # 8 in the photo.

Think

Too often people overemphasize logic and ignore other modes of knowing.  If you leave out what your instinct tells you, your thinking is not very good.

XVI

In the early spring of 1937, I was 16 years old, a junior in high school and had my own 1929 Model ‘A’ Roadster for pleasure driving. I was a starter on the basket ball team and the prettiest girl in high school was my steady. I had a morning paper route and worked Saturdays in a grocery store; my income was about $5 per week. That was enough to for spending money. In fact, I had a bank account and may have been the richest 16 year old boy in town. I know for sure that I was the luckiest.

Sensational

You would have to pay a lot of money for thrill rides at an amusement park to get the same blend of psychedelic sensations that a pilot gets when flying a C-46 over the jungles of darkest Africa at night during a violent thunderstorm....

Xian and me in China

Meeting people on the streets in China and showing off my little granddaughter was a great thrill. I carried a small card, which Kris had given me; it was printed in Chinese and read, “I come to China to adopt one of your little girls. I will always love her and will teach her about beautiful China. I will never let her forget her heritage.” I would show the card to the people that gathered near. It was all that was needed to break the language barrier. Their comments and actions brought tears to my eyes more than once.

Getting Old

I was taught to respect my elders.  But it is getting hard to find any of them.

The Barefoot Princess

Lavon, my baby sister, was 14 years old when this picture was taken in 1939. It gives a hint of how things looked during the great depression. Not to say she didn’t have nice dresses; she did. But as a young teen-ager, with two older brothers to compete with, she was pretty much a tom-boy. She preferred to go barefoot, wear overalls and be in a good corn-cob fight, to wearing shoes, dresses and playing with dolls. A few years later she was a beautiful young woman married to a handsome young policeman.

At Home

God is in His Heaven.  I am in my home.

T-Bird

Stepping up in the world. I bought this good-looking Ford Thunder-bird in 1960. Of all the cars I have owned; it is still my favorite. The 1960 T-bird was often referred to as The Banker’s Hot Rod..

Spring has Sprung

At last, spring has arrived in Florida.  Trousers and sweaters are put away; summer shirts and shorts are now standard wear.  The quilt is off my bed; a sheet is enough cover.  The lawns will soon be green; the azaleas are starting to bloom.  I feel like shouting!

Lomie - February 1943

I found her room; tapped on the door — she opened it. There were no words, only breath taking silence.... She was more beautiful than I remembered.... The next thing I knew, she was in my arms, tip-toeing to kiss me — our lips met.... The kiss did not say, “I’m sorry.” It said, “I love you! And I want you to love me. Let’s be lovers again tonight — and see what tomorrow brings.”

Scary

One of the scariest aspects of our times is how easy it is for the loudmouths on the TV news channels to turn us against each other.

Before the Big One

This photo of Mom with her two sons was taken shortly before WWII. Chuck had ran off to Canada to join the RCAF immediately after graduation from high school. And I had enlisted in the Army Air Corp three months before. We were both home on leave. It’s obvious that Mom was very proud of us.... But we can not begin to imagine how much worry and stress she endured the following five years.
By-the-way, the next time Chuck and I met, we both were wearing Silver Wings

It Happens

As I've grown older, I've become less critical of myself. I've become my own best friend.. Too many of my friends have left this world, before they had the chance to feel the contentment that comes with ‘growing old’.

Before PCs

This is a photo of my den, taken shortly after moving to Florida in 1986. The typewriter is a Xerox Memory Writer; bought before PCs were popular. I used it to write my autobiography. It had a lot of good features, but it certainly wasn’t a full-blown word-processor. The cost of it was far greater than what I had to pay for any of the computers and accompanying hardware that I’ve owned.

Flight Plan

I’ve been informed that I am taking a lonely route to eternity. It is probably true! I admit that my flight plan is different from most, as I am more concerned with actions than beliefs.

I am positive that there are many routes to the desired location. And that makes me a little peeved with people that have told me that their way is the only way. But I’m trying to forget it.

I’m confident with my flight plan. It may be a lonely route, but I’m on course and enjoying the trip.

Graduation

This photo was taken on Kristina’s graduation night at Indiana University in 1974. It’s a pretty good picture of all three of us.... But how about that suit, shirt and tie that I’m wearing? Golly! The suit is still hanging in my closet. I don’t think it has been worn since that night. And I doubt that it was ever worn more than three or four times. In fact, I can’t remember wearing it for any other occasion. Nice summer suit, but too flashy, it doesn’t match my conservative personality :-)

Care

Our distant friends may not realize how important they are to us, so it's up to us to make them understand. We should follow whatever method that fits us best, whether it's with chatty emails, newsy letters, greeting cards or by telephone. They will be glad to know we care. And for the people closest to our heart,We need to keep sending sincere, “I love you!” signals.  They work wonders!

10 Days Old

This picture is of Lomie and Kristina, taken when Kris was 10 days old. I have a photo of her with her granddad, taken at the time. Also one with her grandmother. But I can not find any pictures of Kris and me together when she was a small baby. I’m disappointed!

Well, not really.... I still have the memories! I was very happy --- thrilled to be Kris’s daddy and proud of her beautiful mother.

Luck ll

I may have put too much emphasis on LUCK in a previous post. I hope not. Work, Wits and Luck have to be in unison for a happy life. Luck is the most volatile of the three.

To live in comfort, you must work and use your wits to earn, save and acquire... But it’s also important to keep looking for opportunities (Chances for Luck). Without Luck, life would be boring. Coming out a winner, after acting on a tough decision, is a real thrill! A little happiness, now and then, makes just being comfortable a lot easier to take. You feel richer and sing better, too.

Service Station

Shortly after my discharge from the Air Force, Lomie and I returned to Sandborn. I soon leased and began operating a new Standard Oil Service Station. It was a good business, but it was a 7 days a week job with long hours. It got us off to a good start in civilian life; enabling us to buy a nice home, new furniture and a car. I was satisfied ‘til Kristina was born.... Then, I knew a change had to be made. Working long hours made it nearly impossible to see my baby except when she was asleep in her crib. My search for a new job was short. I went to an employment agency; they made an interview appointment with the new General Electric plant in Linton. I was hired immediately, and started work on second shift that evening It was a big reduction in income, but the new job gave me time to be a daddy. I made arrangements for one of my employees to buy me out of the Service Station business. .

Luck

Some people work hard and still fail. Others don’t believe in work; they fool themselves, thinking that they can live by their wits alone.

The rest of us know that to get by in this world, it takes both hard work and wits. And to live well, we know luck is needed, too. Without luck, we seem to struggle. Therefore, in order to be lucky, we expose ourselves to chance; knowing that each time we take a chance, we better the odds of being lucky.

Yes, taking chances borders on gambling! So, to improve the odds, we perfect a hunching skill. A hunch is a backlog of bits of information our brains have been gathering and storing. When a decision has to be made, the brain, like a computer, will put together all of the facts and figures that we didn’t know we knew and give us a calculated hunch. Then, it’s time to take a chance!

Air Mechanic

Eight months after I enlisted in the Air Corp, about the same time that I met Lomie, I received a First Class Air Mechanic rating. I only wore one stripe on my sleeve (PFC), but the rating made my pay equal to a Master Sergeant’s, and with flight pay which I always manage to qualify for, it equaled the base pay of a Captain. The extra boost in pay made it easier for me to keep enough gas in my 34 Pontiac to make the 30 mile trip, three or more times a week, to date Lomie. It worked out well when I was selected for pilot training, too. It was an Air Corp rule that one’s pay couldn’t be reduced when placed in another assignment. Therefore my pay, while in Flying School, was about twice that of a regular Flying Cadet. Good fortune seemed to stay with me through out my six years of military service.

Qualms ll

I guess I can lay my ‘qualms’ aside. The blog comments and emails were all positive; urging me to continue with my posts. Soooo... as long as I can find a picture that reminds me of a story from the past, an interesting paragraph from my autobiography, or a worthwhile quote from ‘My Something to Think About’ file, I’ll keep posting Non-Sense. Thanks to all of you who care!

The Kiss

Found this picture today, taken in 1960. The memory brought proud tears. There is nothing particularly unusual about it. But the kiss shows the strong father/daughter relationship Kris and I have always had. She is ready for school and I am headed to work... That evening, after work and school; she probably drove a golf cart and kept score for me as I played a round of golf with a foursome in the GE golf league.