Gramps, is the person
who permeated me with a love for the water and introduced me to SCUBA diving,
accidentally, by dying (see )"The Service" - A Celebration of the life of my
father. There is more to this
story and I will get it to the net as soon as I am able. Remember that he wrote
this in 1962....... This letter is
primarily to wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, but so many
events have happened since last Christmas that we feel compelled to explain
them.
In February, Boeing engaged in a competition to
design the TFX Fighter Airplane and on February 14th they brought me to Seattle
to assist in the effort - so off I went, leaving Ruth and the children in
Wichita. The first week it was great no worries, no cares, no children
asking for help in homework, no wife with her "fix-it" list when I
walked in the door - Great! The second week I began doubting my new found
freedom, the third week I knew it wasn't worth a darn and the fourth week I
found an excuse to go home for a short visit. Somehow we made it to the
end of school and home I went to gather up the brood.
Our original plan was to go to Seattle for 18
months - take a few things with us (I had rented a furnished house), rent our
Wichita home, and then return at the end of our stay. Ruth began packing
the few items and off I went to the garage to assemble a 4'x8' trailer, on
which I had worked on and off (mostly off) for two years. At the end of
the first day I began doubting my trailer's capacity and as the mound grew to a
mountain my plans for a few things collapsed and work on the trailer dwindled
and finally halted. After carefully analyzing the situation down I went
to the U Rent Um and came back shortly with the biggest trailer they had - 6' x
14' with four wheels and a top. By this time the few things were covering
the driveway; but rising to the occasion I began loading - dishwasher, ironrite
and so on - each was assessed and carefully put in place until finally only
odds and ends were left - bicycle, ping-pong table - you know small things -
well anyway, I decided to move the car ahead to get a little more room.
There was a horrible screeching of rubber - I stopped, got out and
looked. The trailer fenders were laying on the front tires. Obvious
solution - shift the load. So out I got, unloaded the trailer, (all 4000#
of few items) and began reloading - this time the dishwasher and ironrite in
back. When the task was once again complete I noted with untold
satisfaction that I had gained the tremendous clearance of ½".
The problem of course , had now reached the necessity of consultation, so down
I drove to the U Rent Um and after much deliberation and study we discovered
the idiot that built this monstrosity in the first place had built it with no
clearance when empty. Now what? - Down to the blacksmith shop I went and
after 2 hours back I came with the ball raised 5 inches - hooked up the trailer
- clearance marginal but sufficient, and home triumphant to the family I
went. It's now 5 p.m. of our scheduled 8 a.m. leaving day and the family
was still waiting, bag in hand, ready to go, so as I carefully backed into the
driveway to pick up the troops, Ruthie, helpful as ever, said "Why does
the trailer ball move back and forth? - By this time of course, relations are
somewhat strained, but at last I consent to look and what do you know - It
did! Fatigue life of the hitch probably 100 miles - Seattle 2000 miles -
obvious solution - back to the blacksmith shop to rebuild the trailer hitch but
this time Ruth, Jan, Chris and the two dogs are with me. At 7:00 p.m.
it's braced to my satisfaction and with tears in our eyes, dirt on my hands and
dog hair in our coffee, off we drove, and the first nite arrived at Great Bend
- 70 miles - not bad for the first day.
Normally one would think we'd had our share but
no lady luck apparently had bypassed and was riding in someone else's caravan
cuz on the second day we drove through several cloud bursts and that evening
Jan complained of a severe head and had 102 degrees - not so obvious solution -
exhaust fumes from a leaky muffler, but by morning the little trouper was
ready to go. Sunday, of course, and no place to go for a muffler so off we
gaily drove with windows open, joy in our hearts and more dog hair in our
coffee cups. This day was lovely and we had the exciting experience of entering
Yellowstone and seeing the grandeur of this extremely beautiful country. The
next day we saw "Old Faithful", the Paint Pots, the bears and as all
tourists, stood with camera in hand trying in a punitive measure to capture the
enthralling beauty of Mother Nature until "Old Dad" with many regrets
had to make the decision to leave, and off we drove "dragging our trailer
behind us", little knowing what was again in store for us!
When you leave Yellowstone by the north gate one
overlooks a breathing view of the mountains and far below the valley to which
you will descend. After one last look you take leave and begin descending
by means of long switchback roads. - Back and forth you weave, seeking lower
and lower levels and you note with some alarm, that each time you step on the
brake the response is less and less, so now you look for a place to pull over
without alarming the family. The only other thought is your conversation
with U Rent Em and their answer "No Problem". Finally you're
approaching the point of refusal -- place to pull off, the road going down with
a right angle turn on a precipice overlooking the canyon far below and you're
in the outside lane and the breaks let go! Fortunately we were going slow
and as the car started gaining speed I did the only thing I could and cut
across the highway and rammed it into the mountain. The good Lord was
with us and we picked a soft spot and nothing was hurt. Many remarks were
made, of course, but personally, I just sat - kinda needed a rest anyway!
Finally the brakes cooled and I readjusted them as best I could and finally in
low gear we reached the bottom, very grateful, and somewhat exhausted.
The rest of the trip was through beautiful
country and made with no further incidents and finally we arrived at out new
home in Seattle. The trailer was quickly unloaded and down we went to U
Rent Em and dropped the ornery cuss - Did you ever wear long johns all winter
and then experience deliciousness in slipping into shorts in the spring when
you were a kid?
Summer was spent with work, family becoming
reoriented and the major event being the purchase of an old 38' cruiser.
Proud indeed we were as we gaily cruised our home to our new port not realizing
the perils and dangers of the deep that beset the new skipper. Being new
at this and filled with great ambitions we of course daily visited our gay
craft. Each day, however, the step down to the boat became longer, so
down to the bowels of the ship I went - sure enuff - the bilge is progressively
taking on water at an alarming rate - on goes the bilge pump and down comes the
water level in the bilge, but prudence suggests that we now consult with the
boat works. Off we go jauntily wearing our newly purchased yachting
caps. When we arrive he listens to our tale of woe and the first thing we
know we're dry docked. As the investigation progressed and his
faces gets longer and longer, mine does too and visions of money bags dance in
our heads - me giving - him taking. I am now known as the "dry rot
king" of Seattle or "Have you had your boat rebuilt
lately?" Dry rot is to boats as termites are to homes, and the net
result was jacking up the engine and building a new boat under it! Anyway
the summer went and the rains came and finally we brought the boat home,
trading in our jaunty yachting caps for used southwestern rain outfits.
Concurrently with bringing the boat home we
also acquired a new possession. "All the girls have a horse!" ,
said Jan, and as low as our morale was from purchasing the boat works,
apparently we were an easy mark, for before I knew it, Caesar had joined the
family - all 1400 pounds of him - looking like he had just trotted off the
scenes of Bonanza - ever own a horse? You soon realize a horse is the
nearest thing to perpetual motion there is and he keeps you busy on both
ends. Only two inexpensive tools are required: a pitchfork
and a shovel and your hands are quickly callused. As we said we were new
at horses and didn't know a thing about them. A horse will eat till he
busts, and ours almost did, and in one nite poor old Caesar almost bit the
dust. A week later Caesar was on his feet again, but not until I had
rebought the horse in vet bills and we had spent a few sleepless nights out
with the vets. Now that Caesar is well again, Ruth swears the funniest
thing she has ever witnessed is 3 vets pushing a horse that's just had an enema
around the barnyard at midnight to make him run and slosh, with me running
ahead leading them. My own thought was to get the heck out of the road
and you couldn't have paid me to be back there!
Well, we're in Seattle, the boats working, the
horse is working and I'm working and Ruth and the kids have talked us into
living in a big house out on the edge of Puget Sound. "The
Toolies" is what we call it and we're out in the woods like the rest of
the Seattleites. We love it and now that Boeing has lost the TFX contract
we'll probably stay here - besides what can you do with a sick horse and leaky
boat in Kansas.