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Second marriages, stepfathers, travel and travail . . .
Before beginning this post I offer the following quote in defense of my babbling on interminably about myself—it’s by a writer that, for many years, has been one of my favorites: “I should not talk so...
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Privies, pee-pipes & honey buckets—Kimpo AB, Korea, 1951 . . .
The winter of 1951 in Korea was the same as any winter before and after that year—brutally cold, with snow and howling winds. We lived in tents strategically placed near the flight line, ostensibly so...
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Miranda warning—what it says versus what it should say . . .
I was a federal Civil Service law-enforcement officer for the final 26 years of my 48 years in the work force (I spent the first 22 years in the US military). In the early years of my law enforcement...
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Miranda warning—is anyone awake out there?
This a re-do of the original posting made in June 2009. It was, and still is, a beautifully constructed dissertation on the use of the Miranda warning by our nation’s law enforcement officers. I...
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Revisited: Vietnam, circa 1969 . . .
This posting was originally unleashed on an unsuspecting audience almost ten months ago on June 9, 2009. It has languished in the bowels of Word Press since that time. The number of visitors the...
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Why I joined the U.S. Air Force . . .
The immediate reason I joined the U.S. Air Force rather than the Army was because the U.S. Army recruiting office in my town had reached its quota for March, 1949. The Army recruiting sergeant said his...
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Underage enlistment and other stuff . . .
Underage enlistment My initial enlistment in the United States Air Force required perjury on the part of three people. The recruiting sergeant, my mother and I all lied about my age. I lacked six...
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College Street, #301 & 1/2—a boarding house . . .
For a few weeks during the second World War I lived in a boarding house with my mother, stepfather and an older sister, a young girl that was a complex assortment of tissue, fluids and organs with a...
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The Korean War—please remember it . . .
As a retired military person I subscribe to the Air Force Retiree web site at www.retirees.af.mil. I received the following e-mail on Friday, June 25, 2010 at 11:27 AM. I am posting the e-mail in its...
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Coming out of the shadows . . .
During the 18 months that I have been blogging on Word Press I have largely avoided postings of a political bent, whether a bend to the right or a bend to the left. I have not been entirely successful,...
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A letter to Jessie (1915-1997) . . .
Dear Big Sister, I hope you like this photo—I have several shots of you from over the years, and this is my favorite—just check out that glorious smile! I believe this is where you were living just...
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Letter to the editor, McAllen Monitor, from a double-dipper . . .
I wrote this letter to the editor of the McAllen Monitor while employed with the U.S. Customs Service in the Lower Rio Grande Valley. I spent twelve years on the Mexican border (1971–1983) as a Customs...
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Brownsville Customs assignment . . .
Before I begin this dissertation, please allow me to digress with an explanation of supervisory titles in the US Custom Service. A first level supervisor is equivalent to a captain in the military,...
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A brisket for Nephrology . . .
This is a letter to my wife, one of the purest and sweetest beings that God has ever created. Her immortal soul returned to its Creator on Thursday, the eighteenth of November, 2010 at 9:15 in the...
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Revisited: Coming out of the shadows . . .
Coming out of the shadows . . . During the 18 months that I have been blogging on WordPress I have largely avoided postings of a political bent, whether a bend to the right or a bend to the left. I...
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Our tombstone inscriptions . . .
Prior to the interment of my wife’s mortal remains in Fort Sam Houston’s National Cemetery here in San Antonio, I was asked to provide any information that I wanted in addition to the mandatory data...
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One soul departs, and another arrives . . .
One soul departs, and another arrives. I have read the letter that follows many times and each time my heart—my soul, my spirit—soars to incredible heights, and then descends to incredible depths. I...
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You don’t smoke, you don’t chew, you don’t drink, you don’t screw—damn, boy,...
Memories of those words and that question, and memories of Archie Williams, W.C. Fields, Shirley Temple, dirty old men and a certain red-haired office typist—all came together in my thoughts this...
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