It was not planned that I would go live in Sedalia. Yet it seems that one persons misfortune turnss sometimes in to an others fortune.
I was waiting around for my military orders to come through that would undoubtedly send me eventually to Viet Nam. I had resigned myself to that venture. My wife at the time was teaching art at Smith Cotton and she came home one evening and said she had heard there was a job opening at Heber Hunt elementary school.
My student teaching had taken place under Larry Whiteside at Smith Cotton so I was a know quantity in the district and they only wanted someone to fill out the year due to an illness of a 6th and 7th grade teacher.
I applied for the job, the principal "Bud" Thomas hired me and I started teaching. I am not sure how much I really taught anyone but I remember the classes seemed to have about as much fun as I did and I met some very nice and interesting people that I would eventually weave into the fabric of my books and short stories.
As luck would have it I received a letter from the army saying that they had more officers than they needed and that my full time service was no longer required.
I signed a contract for the next year and was very excited that the school district was going to build a new junior high school. Perhaps I could get a job there I thought after it is built.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Crisp Lake Chronicle, Circa 1950
MY UNCLE BILL.
A farewell party was held for Uncle Bill last Saturday evening at Hutcheson Park on Lake Drive. Uncle Bill has been the head Post Office official at the postal station in Fairmount ever since his return from the war. He was a natural for the job because he had done the same thing for the Army APO - European Theater, in London, England. Uncle Bill says he is not real happy about the transfer but would make the best of it given the fact that it was politically motivated. "You play with a snake and you are going to get bit," was one of his replies. He claims it was politics pure and simple and had nothing to do with his performance. He said he made a mistake and told his cousin Walter on his mother's side that he had voted for Dewey and not Truman in the last election and Walter told Mr. Jones the precinct captain who in turn told Bill Serman. Well that is possible I guess but upon further inquiry I found out the real reason for the transfer to the Kansas City office. It was no secret to anyone living in and around Fairmount that Uncle Bill had acquired the habit of drinking a beer with his lunch each day. It was against postal rules to drink in a government facility so he would take his sack lunch over to the Calico Cat each day to imbibe in a brew but never more than two. So as not to inconvenience the postal patrons he would leave his cousin on his wife's side, Homer, in charge who was the custodian but whom he had trained to sell stamps with instructions never to sort mail or do anything else around the office - only sell stamps. One day however after arriving at the Calico Cat Uncle Bill found a birthday celebration in progress for Herb McIntosh. Two beers turned into six so my informant recalls because Herb's brother Hal was buying and Uncle Bill told folks he could not be rude and leave the party early. Besides Homer was capable of selling stamps and anything else could wait until the next day. The whole matter could have been a non incident except when Uncle Bill did not return at his normal time Homer decided to take his lunch break anyway. He left instructions on the counter along with a role of stamps and a jar. The instructions stated that customers should take however many stamps they needed and leave the correct change in the jar or bring the money by the next day. Leaving the post office unattended and the stamps on the counter would not have been a problem either either except just by chance a Kansas City postal inspector was on his way to the Independence branch and thought he would stop by the Fairmount station just to say hi! The audit that followed found that there was nothing missing at our local branch. Homer has been transferred to Sugar Creek and Uncle Bill to the Kansas City main office. His assignment is on the mail train that runs between Kansas City and Chicago where he helps sort and put the mail bags out for pick-up and delivery for the towns in between. Uncle Bill says that the job is OK in and of itself but the main problem is that the mail car is always attached to the rear of the train and there are too many train cars in between it and the club car where they keep the beer.
A farewell party was held for Uncle Bill last Saturday evening at Hutcheson Park on Lake Drive. Uncle Bill has been the head Post Office official at the postal station in Fairmount ever since his return from the war. He was a natural for the job because he had done the same thing for the Army APO - European Theater, in London, England. Uncle Bill says he is not real happy about the transfer but would make the best of it given the fact that it was politically motivated. "You play with a snake and you are going to get bit," was one of his replies. He claims it was politics pure and simple and had nothing to do with his performance. He said he made a mistake and told his cousin Walter on his mother's side that he had voted for Dewey and not Truman in the last election and Walter told Mr. Jones the precinct captain who in turn told Bill Serman. Well that is possible I guess but upon further inquiry I found out the real reason for the transfer to the Kansas City office. It was no secret to anyone living in and around Fairmount that Uncle Bill had acquired the habit of drinking a beer with his lunch each day. It was against postal rules to drink in a government facility so he would take his sack lunch over to the Calico Cat each day to imbibe in a brew but never more than two. So as not to inconvenience the postal patrons he would leave his cousin on his wife's side, Homer, in charge who was the custodian but whom he had trained to sell stamps with instructions never to sort mail or do anything else around the office - only sell stamps. One day however after arriving at the Calico Cat Uncle Bill found a birthday celebration in progress for Herb McIntosh. Two beers turned into six so my informant recalls because Herb's brother Hal was buying and Uncle Bill told folks he could not be rude and leave the party early. Besides Homer was capable of selling stamps and anything else could wait until the next day. The whole matter could have been a non incident except when Uncle Bill did not return at his normal time Homer decided to take his lunch break anyway. He left instructions on the counter along with a role of stamps and a jar. The instructions stated that customers should take however many stamps they needed and leave the correct change in the jar or bring the money by the next day. Leaving the post office unattended and the stamps on the counter would not have been a problem either either except just by chance a Kansas City postal inspector was on his way to the Independence branch and thought he would stop by the Fairmount station just to say hi! The audit that followed found that there was nothing missing at our local branch. Homer has been transferred to Sugar Creek and Uncle Bill to the Kansas City main office. His assignment is on the mail train that runs between Kansas City and Chicago where he helps sort and put the mail bags out for pick-up and delivery for the towns in between. Uncle Bill says that the job is OK in and of itself but the main problem is that the mail car is always attached to the rear of the train and there are too many train cars in between it and the club car where they keep the beer.
Monday, April 15, 2013
The Crisp Lake Chronicle
Crisp Lake Chronicle
The Crisp Lake Chronicle was an underground newspaper published in the early to late 1950's. It's circulation never mounted to much and the best I can determine from reading the now yellow toned pages it was a paper that printed all the news that was really unfit to print anywhere else.
Some might call it a gossip rag, others might say it was a collection of a bunch of stories that were meaningless to anyone other than the reporter, still others might say everything was made up and untrue. I on the other hand believe every word of what I read in the CLC and look at it as little slice of Americana.
What is really strange to me is that other than my grandfather's collection there does not seem to be any record of it ever existing. The Examiner has no mention of it in its archives, the Jackson County Historical Society has no record of it among their catalog of the Inner City News, nor does the Internet give it any mention. It is like a conspiracy. It is a mystery.
So I feel it is my obligation to resurrect some of the articles and place them from time to time in my blog. Social historians will applaud me, my readers will gain some in site as to what it was like back in the 50's living in and around Fairmount, Maywood, and even Englewood but even more so on Crisp Lake proper, and some might even be offended if they have a thin skin about their ancestors.
The big mystery however is that in all the papers I have perused so far there is not the slightest mention of who the reporter was or who actually was the publisher or distributor.
The few old timers left in the old neighborhood claim they have no knowledge of the publication and change the subject when questioned about an event that was claimed to have happened.
My grandfather left a note on the outside of the box the papers were in that said not to open until 40 years after his death. A note in side the box, just opened recently, says that anyone reading the contents could do anything they wanted with the information contained in the CLC because most of the people mentioned would be dead or to old to read anyway.
First edition coming soon.
The Crisp Lake Chronicle was an underground newspaper published in the early to late 1950's. It's circulation never mounted to much and the best I can determine from reading the now yellow toned pages it was a paper that printed all the news that was really unfit to print anywhere else.
Some might call it a gossip rag, others might say it was a collection of a bunch of stories that were meaningless to anyone other than the reporter, still others might say everything was made up and untrue. I on the other hand believe every word of what I read in the CLC and look at it as little slice of Americana.
What is really strange to me is that other than my grandfather's collection there does not seem to be any record of it ever existing. The Examiner has no mention of it in its archives, the Jackson County Historical Society has no record of it among their catalog of the Inner City News, nor does the Internet give it any mention. It is like a conspiracy. It is a mystery.
So I feel it is my obligation to resurrect some of the articles and place them from time to time in my blog. Social historians will applaud me, my readers will gain some in site as to what it was like back in the 50's living in and around Fairmount, Maywood, and even Englewood but even more so on Crisp Lake proper, and some might even be offended if they have a thin skin about their ancestors.
The big mystery however is that in all the papers I have perused so far there is not the slightest mention of who the reporter was or who actually was the publisher or distributor.
The few old timers left in the old neighborhood claim they have no knowledge of the publication and change the subject when questioned about an event that was claimed to have happened.
My grandfather left a note on the outside of the box the papers were in that said not to open until 40 years after his death. A note in side the box, just opened recently, says that anyone reading the contents could do anything they wanted with the information contained in the CLC because most of the people mentioned would be dead or to old to read anyway.
First edition coming soon.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Caught in a Trap and Defriended
Remember that old Elvis song ..caught in a trap, cannot walk out I love you to much baby... or something like that. Well it has happened to me on this blog. Some guy or phantom electronic bug started sending me great comments about one particular post I made. I was at first flattered but was puzzled as to why that particular post was causing so much interest. Well I still don't know why, but the person, persons, or thing that keep sending me kudos is trying to get me to respond back and perhaps buy something he, she, it are selling. I have resisted the temptation and I really don't care. Perhaps he, she, it, lingers long enough on my post to spike up my AdSense account.
I have been defriended twice on Facebook. Both were my fault. I did not realize in either occasion how thin skinned people were. The first time was by a woman who kept trying to convince all who would listen that the conservative view point was the only view point worth having and that Obama was not an American and all the other stuff you hear about. That part didn't bother me very much but many of those who took the bait were very bitter and those who responded to the bitter comments the lady made were more bitter and it sort of got out of hand. I finally responded and said for both sides to lighten up, Facebook was supposed to fun etc. Well I may not or may be correct on that score but the lady (whom I had known years ago when square dancing) wrote back and said some words that I don't recall presently but was very upset but sincere and informed me she no longer could be my friend. That was the first defriended. My fault for trying to bring reason to people who were being unreasonable (in my opinion that is)
The second time I told a joke that I had heard over 20 years ago at least, but I inserted it into a squabble about football teams in one state being better than one in another state. Of course I had to interfere again and inserted my joke. One of the guys took homage to my jest and told me something like my brain was like a Beebe in a box car and he was defriending me right then and their. The other guy made not comment and I still hear from him. I did get a small lecture from one guy I have always respected since a recontact was made via FB. He said I was a little out of line. Probably so but no disrespect was intended. Oh well I have stumbled along the last few moths having two less friends in my life, I guess I will last a few more months. I will try not to say things from now on that irritate people (Ha!)
I have been defriended twice on Facebook. Both were my fault. I did not realize in either occasion how thin skinned people were. The first time was by a woman who kept trying to convince all who would listen that the conservative view point was the only view point worth having and that Obama was not an American and all the other stuff you hear about. That part didn't bother me very much but many of those who took the bait were very bitter and those who responded to the bitter comments the lady made were more bitter and it sort of got out of hand. I finally responded and said for both sides to lighten up, Facebook was supposed to fun etc. Well I may not or may be correct on that score but the lady (whom I had known years ago when square dancing) wrote back and said some words that I don't recall presently but was very upset but sincere and informed me she no longer could be my friend. That was the first defriended. My fault for trying to bring reason to people who were being unreasonable (in my opinion that is)
The second time I told a joke that I had heard over 20 years ago at least, but I inserted it into a squabble about football teams in one state being better than one in another state. Of course I had to interfere again and inserted my joke. One of the guys took homage to my jest and told me something like my brain was like a Beebe in a box car and he was defriending me right then and their. The other guy made not comment and I still hear from him. I did get a small lecture from one guy I have always respected since a recontact was made via FB. He said I was a little out of line. Probably so but no disrespect was intended. Oh well I have stumbled along the last few moths having two less friends in my life, I guess I will last a few more months. I will try not to say things from now on that irritate people (Ha!)
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Far Horizons - A get together
Last night a friend of ours decided he wanted to have a corn roast. He went out bought a bunch of corn told a bunch of people to come to the open grill by the pool at five P.M, to bring your own eating utensils, something to prepare on the grill, and whatever you wanted to drink. This is not an abnormal occurrence here in our little community on the east side of Tucson. What made this one different is that no one new anyone else or just had a passing acquaintance. I am not sure if the guy doing the inviting new this but I for one thought it a great treat. To often there is a party and the same people get together all the time. Nothing wrong with that but your horizon is limited and isn't this place called Far Horizons?
There are about 1200 people down here at anyone time, many are just for a few days at a time, others are here from one to six months out of the year. Still others like myself live here year round, there are about 60 of us who do that. There are other parks in the state that are much bigger but for me if I wanted to live in a place much bigger I would stay in Independence at paint cati on the walls and sit under a heat lamp. But bigger places have there place and many enjoy them.
I made some new friends last night and although they wont be the type of friends that I grew up with it will be nice to see more familiar and friendly faces. Sometimes you like to be where every one knows your name.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Just a Basic Day - Graduation
When ever a Basic Training Cycle is completed the military has a "Pass in Review." That is when the entire brigade and brigades assemble on the parade ground and pass in front of the reviewing officer, after said officer gives a short speech congratulating everyone for completing the training. It is sort of an elaborate and complicated affair but has been done often enough that it goes without a hitch. After the speech the commander of the unit parading in review shouts out "Pass in Review." The review is lead by an army band and each unit at company level marches and when they pass the reviewing officer the commander of the company level unit sounds off "Eyes Right." The officers leading each company and platoon size units salutes, the squad nearer to the reviewing stand keeps their eyes and head straight ahead and the other columns turn their heads to the right. After the reviewing stand is passed the same officer yells "Eyes Front." The salutes are completed and the heads snap forward again. It sounds sort of hokey but those participating do feel elements of pride. I practiced the event several times but was unable to attend the ceremony. I was recovering from an event that happened the night before.
A bunch of us were celebrating are completion of basic at the beer tent. Another guy and I decided we didn't like each other and my only one real fight in my life ensued. The guy beat me to a pulp. I would like to say I put up a good fight but in reality I did not. I remember very little about the fight and was black and blue and my face was swollen. Several of my comrades helped me back to the the barracks and propped me up in the shower. Several guys from the other platoons came by and said they would go down and beat the other guy up if I wanted them too. They said they really didn't like the guy anyway and he had been a bully the entire eight weeks. I told them not to bother, it was my fault for letting my masochism get in the way of sound judgement.
Needless to say I was somewhat embarrassed and had no desire to see the guy the next morning before the parade. So when the platoon fell out the next morning I remained in bed and did not get up till noon when the troops arrived back to the company eara.
We started processing our way out of Fort Benning, several of my closer friends and I jumped in my car and headed home. My basic days were over and while I don't dwell on them or want to relive it in any way shape or form, I don't want to forget even the most horrific parts of it and will treasure many of the events that occurred in the summer of 1968.
Monday, January 28, 2013
I Digress, again
In my last post I made a mistake. The tornado was on May 20, 1957, not 1947 on May 5, both of which were my birthday of course. There is a small epilogue however.
I eventually got over air sickness and have spent many hours in small air crafts while in the army and living in Alaska. My fear of storms was overcome and even resulted in my working for the state version of what is now FEMA where I encountered severe weather all the time. The air sickness was over come sort of naturally but my fear of storms took on a mystical quality.
It seems that after the tornado on May 5 of '57 the summer was full of storms and storm warnings. We did not have a basement so every time a warning would come up we would go to the neighbor's house and either sit in the basement or their front room ready to head for the basement if things got sticky, so to speak. I was always petrified during the warnings or even when a bunch of clouds gathered. So like most people when they get scared I would pray or even resort to reading the bible.
One evening I was prone on the floor reading some passage of the bible, don't remember which one, full of fear and anxiety. A breeze came in the front door and caught the edge of the page I was reading and blew across the bible and my eyes fell on a passage that went something like this, "you shall not be afraid because you do not know my ways."
I have tried several times to find that passage or something like it but have failed every time. However I was never afraid of a cloud, storm, or tornado from then on. I wish all my fears could be handled in the same way.
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