My Life
This is a condensed story of my life.
I only touch a few of the High Points.
All of this was done from memory and
some events may be slightly out of order,
but is as I remember them. There's still
much untold, but we'll leave that for later.

(For My Grandkids)


Chapter 1
(The Story Begins)

I was born December 14, 1939 in the backwoods of North
East Sequoyah County, Oklahoma. Our little community was
called Oakdale. The community consisted of a one room school,
and several residences most of which were tenant farmers.

When I was two years old and my older sister was seven, our
parents were divorced. They both agreed it would be best for
us to be raised by our paternal grandparents.

I remember bits and pieces of my early childhood in Oakdale.
There was no money to spare for niceties so we had to improvise.
Being tenant farmers, we always had plenty of food. We raised
and processed our own meat, fruit and vegetables. Store bought
clothes and toys were not even thought of. A stick, a rock or a
block of wood along with a lot of imagination could make a great
toy. I guess you could say we were poor, but we didn't know it.
Everyone in the community was just like us, and we were happy.

During those early years I have many memories. Some of them are
as if they only happened yesterday. Others are fleeting and I
can only recall bits and pieces. It was during this time I was
first introduced to tobacco. Someone made me a corn cob pipe,
and everyone would fill it with Prince Albert tobacco and light
it. During those days no one thought tobacco was bad for your
health, and they had fun watching me puff that pipe. I remember
very well some of those visitors. They would ride up on their
horses, take their saddles off and lay them and their guns on
the porch. They'd turn their horses into the "lot", and sit
around visiting until dinner. After dinner they'd saddle up and
leave. I don't know much about those people, but they always
carried guns. That was not unusual though. During those times
just about everybody carried guns.

I saw my first motorized vehicle when I was four years old. My
uncle Cecil came to visit, and surprised us with his pickup. We
sure had fun zipping down those old wagon roads at twenty miles
an hour. He also gave me the worst scare I've ever had in my
life. He drove us to the big city of Van Buren, Arkansas. I had
never dreamed a town could be that big. We were standing on a
store porch watching a train come in. The tracks ran right beside
the store, and that noisy train kept getting closer and closer.
All of a sudden bells started clanging, a loud whistle started
blowing, huge clouds of steam were belching from the side, black
smoke shooting out of the top and the thing kept coming towards
us. I don't remember all I did, but you could say I threw a fit.

During World War II, our dad joined the Army. Earlier he had cut
his foot while making cross ties, so he was not considered fit
for combat duty. They made him a cook, and kept him state side.
He made out an allotment to our grandparents to help with the
money situation. Never having any money before, those old folks
quickly learned how to squeeze a dollar. They managed to save
enough to pay three hundred dollars for twenty acres of land with
a two bedroom log house on it. It didn't take long for us to load
the wagons and make the two mile move. At this time I was five
years old.

We now lived about half way between Short, Oklahoma and Uniontown,
Arkansas. Since we lived on the Oklahoma side of the state line,
we were part of the Short Community. Short was much larger than
Oakdale. We had a two room school, a church and two grocery stores.
One of the grocery stores was also the Post Office.

Not much had changed for us kids. We had our chores to do, and
still had time to play and make new friends. As we grew older our
share of the chores increased, but we didn't mind. That was just
the way life was. For that time and way of life, we had a normal
childhood.

When I was sixteen many changes came into my life. My sister had
married and moved out. My uncle convinced my grandparents they
needed to build a new house. He laid out the area, showed me how
to dig in the footing, and left me to do it. As I would finish one step,
he'd show me how to do the next. Some of my friends would come
by and help me along. We finally got it finished, and had an all
night dance in it to celebrate. Shortly after moving in we got electricity
for the first time. That's also the year I met the most wonderful girl
in the world.

It was a very warm July 4th in 1956. As usual several of us
teenage boys jumped on my old stripped down '46 ford, and headed
for the swimming hole. I've told about that experience on the
page about "My Girl".

Fast forward to 1958. We were married on December 6, 1958 in
Muldrow, Oklahoma. We owned nothing more than the clothes we
had. After staying with Lola's grandmother for a few days we
found an empty house near where my dad lived. We moved in,
and with help from family and friends put together the bare
necessities to make it home.

There was no electricity or water in the house, but since we
were raised most of our lives without those it caused us little
discomfort. We had a wood heater, wood cook stove, table, bed
and an old barber chair. There were large cracks in the floor,
and one bedroom window was broken. By today's standards it would
be considered uninhabitable, but we were happy to have our
"own home". I want to tell you that seventeen year old housewife
could make the best biscuits and gravy on that old wood stove you
ever tasted.

In early 1959 Lola let me know the nest was going to have an
addition. Her parents wanted us to move to Oregon where we'd
be near them. Her dad got me a job with the company where he
worked, and we decided we'd go. I paid $25.00 for an older car,
put four new recapped tires on it for $40.00, and we loaded it and
hit the road. About half way there we had to have the points
in it replaced, and that cost us another ten bucks. Gasoline was
under twenty five cents a gallon, and we found it a few times for
as little as sixteen cents a gallon. There was no Interstate Highways,
and most of the roads were two lane highways. It was a long and
tiring trip especially for a very pregnant young lady, but we finally
made it. When we pulled into the yard at her parents house
the car died, and would never start again.

I started right away working in the logging woods with Lola's
dad. My starting pay was $2.25 an hour. At that time that
was considered to be top wages for anybody. The most pay I had ever
received before that was $1.00 per hour. My first position was
choker setter. Chokers were made from 1/2 inch cables
approximately 20 feet long. There was a loop on one end
and an iron "nubbin" on the other. It had a slide "bell"
between. You'd run the nubbin under the log, bringing the cable around
the log and hooking it into the bell. The end of the choker with the loop
was hooked on the large cable hook on a dozer winch. Depending on the
size of the logs I'd usually hook up about four large logs each time. The
dozer would drag the logs to the landing where they were loaded on
trucks for transport to the processing plant.

Early in the morning of October 2, 1959 Lola added another joy
to our lives. After a long night of labor pains, little sleep
and plain misery Bruce came squawking into the world. All the
prior misery was forgotten at my first look at him. I had a
son!! Had there been trees in the hospital I'd have been
swinging from the limbs giving my Tarzan yell.

It wasn't long until I had another job added to my position.
I'd ride the dozer out first thing in the morning, and take a
couple cases of dynamite with me. I'd throw the dynamite off,
hook up the first turn of logs and become a "powder monkey"
while he was gone. I'd punch a hole under a stump with a long
iron bar, and using about a half stick of the powder blow a hole
(or pocket) under the stump. Depending on the size of the
stump, I'd put enough dynamite under it to blow it out of the
way or break it up enough for the dozer to push out of the way.
Most of the stumps could be taken care of with a few sticks of
powder. Some of the larger stumps (6 or 8 feet across) would
take over 50 sticks. It was dangerous work, but I enjoyed it.
I didn't have to worry about anyone "checking" me out. Everyone
knew that at any time there might be large chunks of stumps flying
through the air around where I was.

The logging company was owned by a father and two sons. I got
along great with the father and older son, but the younger son
was difficult to say the least. He was a typical Oregonian, and
did not like anyone from Oklahoma. Since Lola's dad was a
faller (cut down the trees), and worked for the father he didn't
have a lot of contact with the younger son. My job put me into
daily contact with him. I did not like him, and he didn't like
me. Since he was one of the bosses I decided to leave that
company. I didn't have a lot of options so I decided to join
the military. That wasn't an option open to me either, but I
didn't know it at the time. Since I was married and had a child
I didn't qualify for the regular Army. I would need to have
prior military service to enlist. I enlisted into the National
Guard, and went on active duty for training for six months. I
now had prior service, and enlisted into the Regular Army.

As most everyone knows the government doesn't get into a hurry.
Between my active duty in the National guard and going into the
regular Army I needed a job. I got a job working on a hog
farm. We'd get in truck loads of edible garbage along with
greens and vegetable trimmings from restaurants. They'd dump
them into a large tank, and we'd fire the burners underneath.
While the cooker worked we'd clean the pens. All the pens were
on concrete slabs so hosing them down was easy. After the proper
temperature was reached in the cooker we'd add grain to the
mixture. That would cool it down enough to be fed to the hogs.
We'd open the valve in the bottom of the cooker, and let
the "food" run down the concrete troughs along one side of the
pens. We fed hundreds of hogs this way. It wasn't hard work,
but lacked any thrill or feeling of a job well done.

Now being a young upstart, I wanted some excitement in my life.
When I enlisted into the Regular Army I went all out. I
enlisted for the Paratroopers. It wasn't long before I was at
Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Since I was trained in the National
Guard as an engineer equipment mechanic they assigned me to an
engineer company. Now the paratroopers are a proud bunch, and
me being a "leg" in an airborne unit was not pleasant. Everyone
in the unit out ranked me, and didn't let me forget it. My
status was "in pre-jump" which was lower than dirt. While
waiting for the next cycle of jump school I caught every dirty
detail they could come up with.

I managed to get a studio apartment in Clarksville, Tennessee,
and sent for Lola and Bruce to join me. Since we didn't have a
car getting to work wasn't easy. I'd leave early, hitch hike
in, spend the day in misery, and hitch hike home late in the
evening. Little did I realize it would get worse.

I had to pass a physical fitness test before I could go to jump
school. The first time I took it I passed everything except the
pushups. I had to do 22 perfect pushups, and the instructor
could only count to 21. When I got to 21 he kept repeating 21
until I couldn't do any more. Needless to say, I had to wait
another three weeks until the next cycle. During that three
weeks I did thousands of pushups, but I passed the test that
time. The next three weeks was pure hell.

Jump School started with extreme physical exercise. The first
hour each day was exercises ending with a long run. There was
no walking allowed in the Jump School area. Everything was done
on the run. We did get a ten minute break each hour, but that
just gave you time to catch your breath and you was back at it.
The first week they tore your bodies down, and the second week
they built you back. When I'd get home at night I was so sore
Lola would have to help me climb the stairs. During those first
two weeks the training was fast and heavy. We had to learn
everything about controlling the parachute, learn how to land,
learn about the different planes we would jump from and safety
in all aspects of jumping. They told us going in they would
make us some of the toughest fighting machines known to man.
They believed in their goal, and if they didn't accomplish it
they came mighty close.

The third week was jump week. They'd taught us well, and now we
had to perform. It was a bit frightening to realize in my
first plane ride I wouldn't land with the plane. All of us were
scared, but didn't want anyone to know it. We put on our
bravest faces, and loaded the C-123 twin engine Air Force
plane. The take-off was smooth, and the ride was short. When
the jumpmaster gave us the "get ready" everyone went into blank
thought automatic mode. We had been drilled so hard with what
to do it came into action without thought. No one can
truthfully tell you they remember everything about their first
jump. I woke up after my chute had opened and I was floating
towards the ground. The next four jumps are best described as
awesome. After the fifth jump we graduated, and were now
paratroopers. The engineer company now accepted me as one of
them.

It wasn't long before I received orders assigning me to an
engineer battalion in Germany. Since I was low ranked my family
couldn't get military travel to accompany me. The price of
getting them over there was more than we could afford, and it
was a two year tour. Lola was in the family way again so I took
her to her parents. I reported to my unit in Germany, and was
introduced to my platoon sergeant. It so happened we both had
the same last name. That crusty old Master Sergeant wanted to
make sure no one thought he was playing favorites since we had
the same last name. He made my life miserable. He made me his
maintenance clerk with a desk next to his (he said so he could
keep an eye on me). I was sitting at my desk when I got a call
from the American Red Cross. They told me my wife was in the
hospital. They said her and the baby was doing fine. I asked
them what the baby was, and they didn't know. It took a week
for a letter to come from Lola, and she let me know Tim had made
a grand entrance.

While I was in Germany I decided to try something new. I had
been doing military parachute jumps for awhile, and decided I'd
try sport jumping. With military jumps you have a static line
attached to the parachute. It's hooked to an anchor line inside
the airplane. When you jump the static line pulls your
parachute from the backpack and allows it to open. In sport
jumping you pull your ripcord after you leave the plane. When
you first start you're at 3600 feet above the ground. For
safety reasons you're required to open your 'chute at or above
2000 feet. When you're falling at 120 miles per hour that
doesn't give you a lot of time for mistakes. Jumping at 3600
feet you can get a good five second delay. After five jumps
they'll then allow for higher altitudes and longer delays. I
stayed with the sports parachute club for the remainder of my
time in Germany.

A little over a year into my tour I couldn't take it any more.
I took a thirty day leave, and came home. I finally got to meet
Tim. Since he didn't know me he wasn't thrilled at his mom
taking up with a strange man. I remember one day everyone was
doing something, and left me to baby sit him. He didn't like it
and threw a fit. You should have seen his face when I smacked
his diaper that first time. He couldn't believe that strange
man had struck him.

I returned to Germany to finish my tour leaving Lola with more
problems. Number three was on the way. I finally got my tour
finished, and came home. I was on another thirty day leave, and
Lola was due soon. I bought a car and spent a few days getting
to know the kids. The doctor set Lola's date to report to the
hospital for a C-Section. We got her checked in the night
before the operation. As it turned out the car I had bought had
belonged to her doctor. The doctor and I sat on her bed
ignoring her, and talked about the car. It was a long time
before she would let me forget that. Anyway, the next day Angie
came to be. After the delivery Lola was put into a room with
another woman. One day while I was visiting with Lola the woman
found out I was in the military. She asked me where I was
stationed. I told her I was returning from a two year tour in
Germany. She asked Lola how she liked Germany. Lola told her
she didn't go. We didn't think any more about it at the time,
but did notice a funny look on the woman's face. At a later time
Lola told her about my prior vacation.

It was now 1964 and we had three little rug rats to keep Lola
busy. I reported to the 82nd Airborne Division in Fort Bragg,
North Carolina. We got off Base quarters and set up house
keeping. The military didn't pay so well in those days, and we
had some rough times. It was a struggle, but we kept it together
and made it through them.

In 1964 we were sleeping one night when we heard a knock on the
door. I opened the door and a soldier was there in a jeep. He
told me to grab my bags and come with him. He said we were on
alert. I didn't see Lola and the kids again for two months. We
went into the unit and for the next two days prepared all the
company equipment for air transport. At night we were locked in
the barracks and were not allowed any contact with anyone
outside of the unit. On the third day we were taken to Pope Air
Force Base, and loaded on C-130 four engine airplanes. After we
took off we soon got issued live ammunition for our rifles. At
that time we knew it was something real, and not just a training
mission. We were briefed in flight that it was a real combat
mission. We were going to the Dominican Republic to evacuate
American civilians out of the country. I was about to
experience my first combat duty. When the normal person thinks
of combat they see pictures of fox holes with bullets flying
everywhere. That was the way the movies showed it, but the real
thing is much different. Most of this fighting was in city
streets, and we had safe places where you never heard any
shots. I did see people killed, and observed some heavy
fighting but never fired a shot myself. My job was keeping
equipment working and supporting the fighters.

When I returned to Fort Bragg I got the shock of my life. I had
bought a Volkswagen Bug before I went to the Dominican
Republic. Lola needed to shop, and do all the necessary things
I wasn't there to do. She took the kids and went out to learn
to drive. She taught herself to drive, and I must admit she was
pretty good at it. She didn't have a license, but to see her
drive you'd not think of it.

Fort Bragg is home for a lot of different type military units.
I got to observing this one unit that seemed to have more higher
ranked members. I had known about them for a long time, but
didn't think much about it. I decided that if I was going to
make a career of the military I needed to be in that unit. I
applied for Special Forces with the goal of becoming a Green
Beret. In the song, The Ballad of The Green Berets, it says for
every one hundred tested only three will win the Green Beret.
Truer words were never spoken. I passed the test and was
accepted into the Special Forces Training Group. The training
was intense. First you must be a paratrooper before starting
the training. Special Forces has three main infiltration
techniques. They are air, land and sea. Most people think of
the Green Berets as a tough fighting force. That's true, but is
only a small part of it. They use more brains than muscle.
You're trained as an expert in Guerilla Warfare. Everything they
do is Unconventional Warfare. Their main function is to go into
an enemy country and train locals in the fine art of Guerrilla
Tactics to overthrow an existing government. It's dangerous
work, and you've got to be good. I was trained in Operations
and Intelligence. There's no way I could ever list all the
areas I was trained in. Just know that mainly Special Forces
are trained as Instructors of Unconvential Warefare Tactics.