Early Memories

As a kid, I was always the smallest kid in my class. Because I was a military brat we moved around quite a bit. Little to say, I always had to work on finding new friends, only to find them and then have to move. My father was in the Marine Corps (career Marine). He was a busy man and sometimes I had to fight to get to spend time with him. I had 4 sisters (two older, a twin, and one younger). The good part is that although my time with Dad was limited, I can remember that we had a lot of special times together. He had a love of nurseries and landscaping, and would often take me on some of his moonlighting jobs. In 1966 my father was sent to Japan for a one-year unaccompanied tour (without the family). The family packed up and left California to stay near my Mother's relatives in Connecticut. I felt lost. I was the only male in the house at the time and I can't remember getting a word in edgewise. I had a few friends, but mostly I enjoyed spending time with my Grandfather and one of his neighbors, Uncle Charley. Now Charley wasn't really my uncle, but he did more with me and for me than any of my real uncles (no offense to anyone in the family). I can remember at the ripe old age of 6 that Charley took me on a boy scout outing with the troop he led. I can still remember the cool beautiful rapids and the fish jumping out of the water. After that camp out, Charley took me fishing whenever we were in town. He and his wife didn't have any children, so I guess I filled the part of a part-time son for him. I learned a lot from Charley (he died a few years ago).

It was during this year that my Father was away that I got to know my Grandfather. He was an awesome old sole who loved to irritate my Grandmother. He was a quiet gentle man who always showed his love openly towards me. He taught me about building shelters in the woods and how to avoid the wrath of my Grandmother. I can remember one time we were walking together in the woods and my Grandmother started yelling for him at the top of her lungs. I said, "Grandpa, Grandma is calling you". He responded by saying "I know, but I don't hear her". Although I didn't get to spend the time with him that many of my other cousins did, whenever we were together, it was special. I'm not meaning to say that my Grandmother was mean, but she did carry a big stick. I loved this year that we spent in Connecticut for the special memories that year that I will always treasure. Unfortunately, there were a lot of other things that happened in that year that I pray that I will someday forget (a two-bedroom apartment shared by my Mother and my four sisters). My father being gone was probably the worst part of the year.



We lived on the top floor on the right side.





Upon my Father's return, we once again packed up and headed back to California. We lived on a military base in Barstow (in the middle of HELL - the Mojave Desert). Now to some people, it was hell. To a 6 year old, it was paradise. I lived to explore the desert terrain. It's a complete wonder that I was never bitten by a snake. Although the heat soared in the area during the summers, I seemed oblivious. There was always the sprinkler to run through. I can remember that it was hot (often over 110 degrees), but I don't remember it ever knocking me down. It was during the three years that we spent in Barstow that I really began to fall in love with landscaping and waterfalls. I know, Barstow is in the middle of the desert, but it was what we did that became ingrained in my mind. My father and I worked all the time on the yard. We built a small waterfall in the back yard and our lawn was green and luscious. The rock we used on the waterfall was pumice/lava. It was very sharp and I can remember that keeping fish in the pond for any length of time was an effort in futility. The lava would cut the fish to shreds. The place was in bloom year round. My father also did the moonlighting thing during this time and I was almost always with him when he went on his jobs. He usually drove "THE JOLLY GREEN GIANT". The green giant was an old dodge or Chevy (mid 50's). I still want a truck like that old heap. Little did I know then that what I began to learn way back then would follow me forever.

In 1970 my younger brother was born, and my father got orders to go on recruiting duty. He was assigned to Stamford, Connecticut. So, we moved to a nearby town (Westport, CT). Westport was a town full of many high-society types (Paul Newman, Linda Blair.....). We lived in a modest three bedroom home owned by the government for people on special duties in the area. It was a pretty area and I made friends rather quickly. I shared a room with my little brother and my four sisters shared another room (poor girls - LOL). The terrain was very different than what I had grown used to in Barstow, but I love it there. My father didn't get to spend much time with us during this three-year tour. Recruiting during Viet Nam was not an easy task. I did get to go to work with him from time to time and it always made me feel important. Other than that, he was always really busy (something I never really understood or appreciated until I became a recruiter in the mid 80's).

I can remember getting up on Saturday mornings, eating a bowl of cereal, and then taking off and not getting home until dinner. What a different world it was back then. I know that some of the dangers we face today existed back then, but not anywhere to the extent that they are today. I would take off on my bike with a friend or two and we would head out to the local pond or creek and throw stones, fish, or just get downright messy. I was a free spirit back then with no real responsibilities in the world (other than school). I can remember the woods near the house where we lived. The trees seemed huge (they probably weren't all that big, but to a little kid, everything was big). My friends and I decided to build a tree house. By the time we were through, we built a four-story monstrosity that we played in the whole time that I lived there. I remember playing little league (and mostly sucking). I think I made one awesome play the whole three years that I was in little league and it ended the championship game with us winning it all. I was in boy scouts where I was awarded the "pyromaniac of the year" award. I got this while we were playing a game of hide and seek at night. My flashlight died and I couldn't see, so I ran to the fire and grabbed out a big burning log and ran and found the others. In the process, I was dropping sparks behind me everywhere I went (setting the woods on fire). I loved being in scouts, but it was hard because my father couldn't be there.

In the Spring of 73' my father began planning for his retirement from the Corps. My Aunt Lol, who lived in Mena, AR called and told him that there was a large house with a Nursery that was on the market. That was my fathers dream. He knew that this was the direction he needed to go. When I heard that we were moving to Arkansas, I was in heaven. After all, every kid up North knows that Arkansas is nothing but hillbillies. I thought I was going to be living with Jethro Bodine. I convinced myself that I would be smarter, stronger, and better than all the kids where I was going. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening. Anyway, because I knew that we were going to be going into the nursery business, I volunteered at a nursery that was a couple of blocks from where we lived. They were very happy to let me do the tasks that no one else in their life wanted to do. I pulled weeds, watered plants, moved things from point A to point B.... and I did it all with a smile. I loved it. In June of 1973 we left Connecticut and set sail for Arkansas (My Mom, Dad, 4 sisters, myself, and my little brother, a cat, and a dog - all in one station wagon). I'm sure that we looked like the Beverly Hillbillies when we were driving into town.

Now Mena.... That's another post for another day. G'nite all.