I thought that I should write some things down and post them on this blog so all my children and grandchildren would have access to them. As I will write later, I did not have the foresight to really quiz my father about his life and when he passed away I lost the ability of getting answers to my questions. I want my loved ones to know a little about me, things that perhaps we have not talked about.
There will be many posts and each will be titled "My recollections of life after graduation". So keep coming back.
I graduated from Hueneme High School in June of “66”. At the time I was working at a Sears and Roebuck store in Ventura California.
I don’t remember exactly when I did what but at some point, I think in late summer of “66” I decided to quit work at Sears and go back east to work for my Uncle Ralph. My Uncle Ralph owned a Standard gas station in Richland Center Wisconsin. Richland center was a small farming community. I think it epitomized the small mid western town. There were a few cars but mostly farm trucks, fairly old farm trucks. Richland Center was not a rich community. There were old farmers with their old wives strolling around town on Saturdays and going to church on Sundays. They all had quite a few farmer kids to help with the chores. There was not very much music being played on the radios in town because the whole darned town was listening to high school baseball, major league baseball or something about politics. The streets were all lined with deciduous trees, milk cows were chewing their cud’s in the fields outside of town and the milk trucks were delivering milk from the farms to the processing plants in town. The whole feeling about the town was something very difficult to describe to someone who has never experienced it. It was a feeling of extreme peace; all was right with the world. I am so glad that I could experience it. I will never experience it again. A car full of girls would stop at the gas station and I would go out and they would say “ 25 cents worth of regular please”. I would pump it and they would be on their way. Probably couldn’t get a hundred yards down the street on 25 cents these days. There was a cheese factory in Richland Center and they made cheddar cheese there. My Aunt Dorothy brought back some cheese one day that she called “old cheese”. It was a very sharp cheddar. I doubt that you have ever tasted cheese as sharp as that.
Richland Center was a dry town. There were no bars in town and if you wanted to buy beer or wine you had to go outside the city limits. There were two or three bars just outside of town.
I went back to California in the late fall. Took a Grey Hound bus that’s how I got to Wisconsin also. What a trip. Somewhere in Nebraska six or seven Army grunts got on the bus, on their way to Travis Air Force Base where they would catch a military airplane to Vietnam. By the time we got to Salt Lake City Utah they were all gone. Went AWOL. That trip back to California was so memorable. There were several young folks on the bus and a couple of them had guitars. We all sat in the back of the bus and sang songs for hours. When we got to Salt Lake City we all split up. It seems no one was going to the same place. One to Pocatello Idaho, one to Reno Nevada, one to Seattle and me to Port Hueneme California.
When I got back home I went to work at a retail store called W.T. Grants. It was like a department store. It wasn’t open yet and I helped prepare it for its grand opening and stayed on after it opened and worked in the stockroom. I worked there through the winter and into the summer of “67”. I worked with a Spanish fellow there by the name of Tebercio Vasquez we called him Tip for short. He was a very nice fellow. We were about the same age. Towards the end of summer he quit and went back to his home in Topeka Kansas.
I began worrying about the draft. I had a friend named Mike Staggs. We discussed the draft and he decided to join the Army. I thought about it some and then decline and went instead to the Air Force recruiter. I did all the testing and paperwork. At that time there was a waiting list for the Air Force and they wouldn’t take me at that time. I explained that I was worried about the draft. He said that since my father had retired from the Air Force they would take care of me. If I got a letter from the draft board I was not to open it. I was to come right down to the recruiting office. My dad was a little disapointed that I chose the Air Force. He had started out in the Army and had been a machine gunner during WWII. He didn't get to see any action though. Maybe that was lucky for me, my children and my grand children.
I figured now was a good time to go to Chicago and visit some relatives that I didn’t see the summer before. Back to the Grey Hound bus station I went and bought a ticket to Chicago by way of Topeka Kansas I had gotten a letter from Tip inviting me to his wedding. His family was wonderful. A Spanish wedding is a wonderful event. There was good food, wonderful music, lots of dancing and everyone treated me as though they had known me for years. The trip to Chicago and back wasn’t nearly as memorable as the year before. I stayed with my Aunt Helen. Actually she was my great aunt. She was my mother’s aunt, my mother’s mother’s sister. She was who my mother was living with when my father met her. I don’t remember how long I stayed in Chicago but I was back in California by late September.
There will be many posts and each will be titled "My recollections of life after graduation". So keep coming back.
I graduated from Hueneme High School in June of “66”. At the time I was working at a Sears and Roebuck store in Ventura California.
I don’t remember exactly when I did what but at some point, I think in late summer of “66” I decided to quit work at Sears and go back east to work for my Uncle Ralph. My Uncle Ralph owned a Standard gas station in Richland Center Wisconsin. Richland center was a small farming community. I think it epitomized the small mid western town. There were a few cars but mostly farm trucks, fairly old farm trucks. Richland Center was not a rich community. There were old farmers with their old wives strolling around town on Saturdays and going to church on Sundays. They all had quite a few farmer kids to help with the chores. There was not very much music being played on the radios in town because the whole darned town was listening to high school baseball, major league baseball or something about politics. The streets were all lined with deciduous trees, milk cows were chewing their cud’s in the fields outside of town and the milk trucks were delivering milk from the farms to the processing plants in town. The whole feeling about the town was something very difficult to describe to someone who has never experienced it. It was a feeling of extreme peace; all was right with the world. I am so glad that I could experience it. I will never experience it again. A car full of girls would stop at the gas station and I would go out and they would say “ 25 cents worth of regular please”. I would pump it and they would be on their way. Probably couldn’t get a hundred yards down the street on 25 cents these days. There was a cheese factory in Richland Center and they made cheddar cheese there. My Aunt Dorothy brought back some cheese one day that she called “old cheese”. It was a very sharp cheddar. I doubt that you have ever tasted cheese as sharp as that.
Richland Center was a dry town. There were no bars in town and if you wanted to buy beer or wine you had to go outside the city limits. There were two or three bars just outside of town.
I went back to California in the late fall. Took a Grey Hound bus that’s how I got to Wisconsin also. What a trip. Somewhere in Nebraska six or seven Army grunts got on the bus, on their way to Travis Air Force Base where they would catch a military airplane to Vietnam. By the time we got to Salt Lake City Utah they were all gone. Went AWOL. That trip back to California was so memorable. There were several young folks on the bus and a couple of them had guitars. We all sat in the back of the bus and sang songs for hours. When we got to Salt Lake City we all split up. It seems no one was going to the same place. One to Pocatello Idaho, one to Reno Nevada, one to Seattle and me to Port Hueneme California.
When I got back home I went to work at a retail store called W.T. Grants. It was like a department store. It wasn’t open yet and I helped prepare it for its grand opening and stayed on after it opened and worked in the stockroom. I worked there through the winter and into the summer of “67”. I worked with a Spanish fellow there by the name of Tebercio Vasquez we called him Tip for short. He was a very nice fellow. We were about the same age. Towards the end of summer he quit and went back to his home in Topeka Kansas.
I began worrying about the draft. I had a friend named Mike Staggs. We discussed the draft and he decided to join the Army. I thought about it some and then decline and went instead to the Air Force recruiter. I did all the testing and paperwork. At that time there was a waiting list for the Air Force and they wouldn’t take me at that time. I explained that I was worried about the draft. He said that since my father had retired from the Air Force they would take care of me. If I got a letter from the draft board I was not to open it. I was to come right down to the recruiting office. My dad was a little disapointed that I chose the Air Force. He had started out in the Army and had been a machine gunner during WWII. He didn't get to see any action though. Maybe that was lucky for me, my children and my grand children.
I figured now was a good time to go to Chicago and visit some relatives that I didn’t see the summer before. Back to the Grey Hound bus station I went and bought a ticket to Chicago by way of Topeka Kansas I had gotten a letter from Tip inviting me to his wedding. His family was wonderful. A Spanish wedding is a wonderful event. There was good food, wonderful music, lots of dancing and everyone treated me as though they had known me for years. The trip to Chicago and back wasn’t nearly as memorable as the year before. I stayed with my Aunt Helen. Actually she was my great aunt. She was my mother’s aunt, my mother’s mother’s sister. She was who my mother was living with when my father met her. I don’t remember how long I stayed in Chicago but I was back in California by late September.
1 comment:
Great idea, Dad. I enjoyed reading and look forward to learning more!
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