A Day of Thanks

                     A Day of Thanks


     Another Thanksgiving Day is about over - the dishes are washing, the leftovers are stored in containers ready to be consumed again and again. The house is quiet as the kids have gone back to their homes, the sky darkens as the sun settles low in the western sky.   Linda and I now have a new group of memories stored away, ready to be cherished on a moments notice.
     Thinking back this must be how it was all those years ago when I was a kid. The family gathering was always looked upon with an air of excitement, at least for us kids.  Getting everyone dressed in our finery, preparing the covered dishes for transport and then the long drive to Grandpa's house.  The first stop was Grandpa Riggan then later in the day to Grandpa Wade.
     The earlier years were great in that we kids looked forward with great anticipation to seeing cousins, aunts and uncles. We could run around screaming and yelling like little banshee's and all the threats of getting a whipping if we didn't calm down were ignored.
     At Grandpa Riggan's the food was cooked in iron skillets on a wood burning stove.  The biscuits were kneaded and rolled out by hand then placed in a windowless oven, a glance at the clock on the wall sufficed as a timer.  I can't remember that we had turkey every year, most likely it was a couple of chickens from Granny's flock, breaded and pan fried in lard. There were casseroles of all kinds, homemade stuffing and gravy followed by apple and pecan pie.   Even a picky eater like me found enough to eat that my belly would bulge to bursting.
     During the preparations the women folk converged on the kitchen area reminiscing old times and gossiping about the new. The men gathered on the front porch or in front of the fireplace if the weather was cold.  They talked of friends they had seen lately, the political climate as they saw it and occasionally swatted a kid on the butt for being to rowdy. Grandpa being hard of hearing would sit and puff on his corn cob pipe, every now and then he would join in the conversation but generally he was a man of few words.
     Later in the afternoon we loaded up and like the song says we went over the river and thru the woods to Grandpa Wade's house. By the time we got there dinner was over only leftovers sitting on the table, covered with napkins and dishcloths, remained. With our belly's still bulging we managed to find room for more, nobody went to Granny Wade's house and not eat.  Grandpa and Uncles Harold, AJ and Paul would be watching a ball game of some kind on TV or at least be talking about sports. Some time as the day wore on you could find Grandpa sitting in that big oak rocker of his with his eyes closed.  All of the commotion around him failed to wake him but change the channel from the ball game and he came alive.  The kitchen and dinning room was alive with the laughter of Granny and her daughters.
     Since Linda and I have been married most of our Thanksgiving Days have been spent with just us and the kids and sometimes friends.  Each providing it's own set of memories.  Today was not much different than others of the past.  Clay and Maggie were here as were Danny, Marie and MJ. Linda says it is strange to say Uncle Clay after all of these years of simply calling him Clay.  She may be on to something, but when I put MJ in his arms he reminds me of my brother Clint and how much alike they are.  In that respect Uncle fits him just fine.
     We spent the afternoon talking of all kinds of things, the past, the future, how's the job going, how quickly MJ is growing. We gathered at the table to eat and continue the conversation. MJ was in her highchair being fed bits of chicken by her Dad.  She quickly became the object of our attention as she would hand feed some of her food to Lizzy, the dog, though some of the food was only licked by Lizzy and quickly pulled away to be stuffed into MJ's mouth, MJ thought it was great fun. Once it was determined that MJ was not interested in chicken or mashed potatoes her Dad warmed a bottle of milk.
     Grandma does a great job of spoon-feeding MJ but I like to feed her the bottle.  That way I get to hold her.  After her bottle we had to show Dad MJ's new thing she learned.  I have taught her what is inside the cookie jar and when I lean in with her in my arms she reaches out and grabs a cookie.  Well today she got those tiny fingers around two chocolate chip cookies.  I sat down at the table with MJ on my leg and we all watched as she put the cookie into her mouth and was able to get her two teeth to break off a piece.  If I opened my mouth she would thrust her cookie filled hand towards my mouth but all I got was a finger covered in slobber and wet cookie crumbs.   Even so, it was delicious and MJ thought it was funny.
     After the cookie it was nap time and like any little one she sometimes puts up a little fuss but Grandpa has the distinction of being the only one to get her down for her nap.  I hold her against my shoulder and sway from side to side humming off key some melody of which the words escape me and it is not long till she goes limp and I lay her on the couch.  I'm not what you would call a religious person but if ever angels do come down to earth they must do so in the form of a sleeping baby.
     I am thankful for my brothers and sister, without them my memories would be less enjoyable.  I am thankful for my sons and their families for they have made me proud.  I am thankful for my life with Linda, without her life would have no meaning . This was MJ's first Thanksgiving and mine as a Grandpa  and I am thankful to have her in my life.  At eleven months old she probably won't remember a thing about this day but I will hold these memories into eternity.
    
     
    
    

To Hell In A Basket

                                          To Hell In A Basket






     I remember when I was a kid that the adults would claim this new generation was going to the dogs, or Hell in a basket, whichever comes first.  They were always talking about the way things were when they were growing up and this new generation had no idea how good a life they had.  They all had to walk four miles to school in the snow and the only thing to eat was vegetables and they were darned glad to get them.  I guess their longing for simpler times were no different than those of earlier generations or of the generations yet to come.
     It was hard for me to understand how Mom and Dad could have grown up in a time where there was no TV, Old Hickory Lake or color movies in the theaters. The major form of family entertainment was listening to serial broadcast programs on the radio.  Shows like The Shadow, Amos and Andy, Superman and Buck Rogers kept many people huddled around the radio for hours each week.  Opera was a staple form of music at this time.  Listening to Kate Smith belt out " When the Moon Comes Over The Mountain " was a family affair although to hear her sing her signature song " God Bless America " was truly amazing. When I was a child in the fifties we watched  The Adventures of Superman every afternoon and Buck Rogers on Saturday mornings on our black and white TV and, yes, we had to put up with the Kate Smith Hour before we could watch Superman. We understood the meaning of "waiting for the fat lady to sing".
     I can't attest to those who came before me but my generation had a good life growing up.  We were on the cutting edge of invention and innovation but as I look back I can understand the sentiment of the older generation.  I remember going to bed and not worrying about the doors being locked or letting the kids play outside and out of sight without fear of  abduction. There seemed to be less crime or maybe there was less crime per capita ( there were far fewer people then ) .
      I remember when five cents bought a candy bar that was twice the size of those on sale today and the store owner who sold the merchandise knew you by name because he was friends with your family or went to the same church or was even a relation. There was a time when there were Five and Dime Stores where most of the merchandise could be bought for five or ten cents,  As prices went up the Five and Dime Store was replaced by Variety Stores ( same merchandise just higher priced ) . Then as the prices climbed higher still the Variety Store was then replaced by larger stores with names like Woolworth's, Zayre's and K-Mart. The 1960's ushered in the era of the corporate giants and the Mom and Pop businesses couldn't compete with them.
     One way us kids could earn money was to collect soda / coke bottles and redeem them at the local grocery store for three cents apiece.  Even one soda bottle would buy three pieces of bubble gum.  Now all of the soda containers are made of disposable plastic that though it can be recycled usually winds up on the side of the road with other trash.  Don't get me wrong, we collected the soda bottles from the side of the road - not much has changed in that respect. The bottles put out by the Coca Cola bottling company were made in different cities around the country and the cities name would be embossed in the bottom of the bottle.  While we were collecting them we would sometimes play a game to see who had found the bottle made in a city farthest away from Nashville, Tn.  Dad and some of the guys he worked with would place bets on who could pull a bottle from the case that was farther way than the next guy.  Bets would range from twenty-five cents to a dollar depending on how close it was to payday.
     Deals were made on a handshake or a promise.  Your word was your bond and when you hired on with a company you most likely worked with them for life. There were no prenuptials to be signed before getting married and divorce was not only hard to get but most people seemed to want to work things out and stay married.
     Every house had an outside TV antenna attached to the roof in order to receive a signal for only three channels.  The channels did not start to broadcast until 6:00 am and went off the air at midnight. If you lost the picture you didn't call a technician you went outside and adjusted the antenna.  People with means installed electric motors to the antennas so that adjustments could be made remotely from inside the house. You were lucky to pickup a ballgame on Sunday afternoon and most all programs were live broadcast which made for some interesting moments.
     Morals were different then.  In the movies or on TV the adult bedroom was always shown with a married couple sleeping in separate beds. And it was the only place in the world where a woman was nine months pregnant but still had the waistline of a teenager.  Cursing was a no - no and sexual innuendoes took a far stretch of the imagination.  Movies and TV today are quite different.  There are some three hundred channels available and no subject matter (complete with visuals) is taboo.  It is commonplace to see men and women walking around in their underwear during commercial breaks. If the TV doesn't excite you there is always the internet, imagination is not required for either.  Don't worry about having to sit around waiting for the phone to ring - now days you carry the phone every where. You can talk, text, e-mail, post to Facebook, buy and sell,  all from the phone.  You can perform all of these task while walking, talking, driving, eating, drinking, watching a movie or soaking in a hot tub.  All of this technical multi tasking has even developed a new language  " BFF, BF, BC, B4, LOL " and more that I don't understand.  I call this new universal language "Abbreviated".
     I could go on and on about the differences.  The truth of the matter is that each generation has things better than the generation before them and for good reason.  All of the parents I know want their kids to grow up and have a better life than what they did.  In his own way my Dad wanted me to be better off than he had been - he didn't want me going in circles on life's merry-go-round.  Well,  I did manage to jump off before the ride was over but I failed to grab the brass ring because I had to do things my way.  Guess Mom was right, I do have a stubborn streak in me.
     Now the tide has turned and I am looking at my sons and wanting only the best for them and their loved ones but like the generations before me all I can do is watch and hope. The world in general is a topsy-turvy place with turmoil world wide.   Every country seems to have money problems and societies are having issues of trust in their political and religious leaders.
     Technology is running at a pace so fast that keeping up is a monumental task. Just the other night I was watching a program on the Science channel where a scientist is plotting the circuitry of the brain and another has developed a chip that can be wired into the brain and it will enhance the brains ability to perform thereby making mankind smarter.  It already is being tested on rats.  Just imagine a class room full of highly intelligent kids with a yearning for knowledge and a mind capable of absorbing all that comes their way.  No more mental illness or learning disabilities.
     Loose an arm?, well science is very close to attaching a prosthetic arm and hand that works via the thought process the original hand used, want to give someone the fickled finger of faith? all you have to do is think and the arm rises to the occasion with a finger appropriately extended.  Seriously, scientist are not only extending a person's life they are going to make him smarter and when the body does deteriorate they are also working on providing a new robotic body into which they can simply transplant your brain  or brain waves into a robotic body that appears real.
     Many years ago I saw an episode of Rod Serling's Twilight Zone where an old couple in the winter of their lives went to an outlet store and picked out new youthful bodies and thru a simple process they could become young again.  Sadly,  there was a cost associated with the quest for youth and the couple could not afford the transformation for both of them.  They decided to stay as they were and live out their time together as the people they had become. While it boggles my mind to believe that such a future may exist I feel that it must come to reality and mankind will explore stars looking for intelligent life and worlds such as our own.  We will need the intelligent people " to go boldly where no man has gone before ".
     I don't think this new generation is going to the dogs or Hell in a basket any more than previous generations did but the technical advances made and being made put them on a path of discovery and exploration the likes of which has only been imagined.  On the one hand I am excited for them, on the other hand the speed at which the future approaches is frightening and I am afraid that mankind will forget to "stop and smell the roses" .
      In reality, is my generation any better than that of my parents or, for that matter, will my sons and their children have a better life than me?  I think the answer is yes but if they do go to Hell in a basket it will be the most technically advanced baskets you have ever seen.

The List

                   


                             The List





     I love movies, always have since I saw my first one at a drive-in when I was a young lad.  I can't remember what I saw but I do remember Mom getting Dad to take us somewhere, he tried to talk us into going to a fight but we wouldn't have it. All of this happened when it was just me and brother Pat.  Brother Clint may have been in the making but it was definitely prior to having a TV in the house and it was a "Drive - in" movie.
     The old black and white movies of the 30's & 40's still intrigue me.  If they weren't engulfing me in a fantasy world of suspense or comedy then it was the excitement of a story of WWII or some cowboy saving the day and winning the heart of a lady. You always knew who the good guys were and it was a foregone conclusion that the good would overcome evil.  There were the late night "Million Dollar Movies" on Friday night and the serial westerns on Saturday morning.  When I got old enough there was an occasional trip to the Donelson Theater for a Saturday matinee.  It was there I saw my first science fiction movie about giant scorpions - scared the hell out of me for weeks.
     I personally have a nice collection of VCR and DVD movies from just about all eras and encompassing some of the biggest Hollywood stars of their day - Clark Gable,  Errol Flynn, Humphrey Bogart, Van Johnson, Rock Hudson, Charlton Heston and of course John, "The Duke", Wayne.  When Little Sister comes for a visit we watch movies till we fall asleep.  I can and quite often do watch  movies over and over.  I can't tell you how many times Linda and I have watched "In Harms Way" with John Wayne and Patricia Neal or "The Caine Mutiny" with Humphrey Bogart.
     My movie interest vary from musicals to westerns, comedies to war and adventure to suspense (horror is just not my thing).   Some movies grab my attention more than others and make me want to watch them more often. There are many reasons why I watch a movie multiple times, it is the leading actor or actress or the theme or the subject matter.  Dad would watch anything starring John Wayne and I also rank him pretty high.  One of his favorites was "Mr. Roberts".  As I aged,  my movie interest gradually moved to those dealing with subjects that held true to events that actually took place or themes that relate to real life.
     A few nights ago after Linda had gone to bed I ran across such a movie.  I had only seen it twice before but the subject hits close to home and the actors portrayed their parts beautifully.  The Bucket List, starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, is one of those movies that has climbed high on my watch list.  The movie is about two old men who share a hospital room as they endure therapy for what turns out to be terminal illnesses.  Morgan Freeman's character writes out a list of things he would like to do before he kicks the bucket, Jack Nicholson's character picks up on the idea.  With some reservation and much thought they go off together to complete the "Bucket List".
      As I said, this hits close to home as I am now a senior, but don't go getting excited, I don't have any terminal disease and I am not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon, at least not today. Personally,  I would like for MJ to be old enough to remember she had a Grandfather before I go, another 15 yrs. would be soon enough. A "Bucket List" is a list of items that a person wants to do before they die.  Remember all of those dreams starting way back when you were a kid that you said, "one day I'm gonna ---" or the plans you and your wife made about your future when dating?  In general, all of those things that you dreamed of doing as soon as you could find the time to do them would go on your bucket list. This brings to mind part of a quote having to do with "best laid plans of mice and men ".
     The thought raced thru my head, have I experienced everything I wanted to do, is there more yet to come, or is there nothing in my future to spark the imagination and stir the fires of desire for more. Suppose for a moment that my life to date is yet unfulfilled - what might my bucket list include?
     
     1.  Ride on a fire truck - I seem to remember doing that when I was a Cub Scout.
     2.  Climb a tall mountain - not that I am afraid of heights but I would rather stand back and admire the beauty.  I can tell you that Mt. Hood in Oregon is magnificent with the light of a full moon reflecting off it's snow capped peak while one lone cloud dissects it's mass.
     3.  Drive a fast car - did that.  I once owned a 1969 GTO and I used to have a heavy foot.  Even had the speeding tickets to prove it.
     4.  Catch a big Bass - I'm working on this one.  So far I'm up to about 6 1/2 lbs. if Linda's brother-in-law guessed the weight correctly.
     5.  I have been swimming in four different oceans/seas - So. China Sea,  Pacific Ocean,  Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico.
     6.  I have traveled halfway around the world and visited seven nations/countries - Philippines, Vietnam, Taiwan, Hong Kong,  Japan,  Okinawa, and Canada.
     7.  My work took me into all but five of the fifty states.
     8.  I have been fishing in Alaska.
     9.  I have laid under the stars in the High Sierra Mtns. of California with my son and counted shooting stars.
     10.  I grew up in the best of times and have been witness to some of the most dramatic events of history.
     11.  I fell in love with and married the most beautiful girl in the world.  She still walks beside me and lets me hold her hand.
     12.  I have held in my arms the most beautiful babies - my two sons and lately my granddaughter. With any luck I may yet get to hold a couple more grandchildren - get to work boys!
     13.  Go to Disney Land - did that and Disney World too.
     14.  Go sky diving - I have no desire to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.  Contrary to what I have heard about sky diving,  planes, any plane that flies is a good plane.

    I'm sure that if I think long and hard I could come up with a really good list of things I want to do before moving on.  Most I'm sure I couldn't do because I'm no longer as good as I used to be.  Seems  like there is never enough time or money or maybe the realization that it probably could never happen anyway would just move those items to the far back burner and the flame would flicker and die out.  With the mellowing of my youthful priorities,  what was once a wish upon a star has become a lesson in reality, or as Linda recently said,  "life got in the way".  It is probably a matter of perception on my part but my youthful expectations may have been set too low although coming from an era where people lived their entire lives within fifty miles of their birth place,  I have gone far.  I'm not going down in history books and my fifteen minutes of fame were more likely fifteen seconds but when all is said and done I'm happy with my life. I took what came my way and did the best I knew how - guess that makes me a common man and I see nothing wrong with that.
     Having said all of that is there nothing left to keep the flame alive to make me look forward to tomorrow?  The answer is yes - though not what you may think.   Nothing too exciting or thrilling.

     1.  I want to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary with Linda (only four more to go sweetheart, then we talk about options for the 55th,  60th,  etc.).
     2.  I want to see the smile on MJ's face on Christmas morning and watch her blow out the candles on as many birthday cakes as I can.
     3.  How about catching a lot more fish?
     4.  I want to hold Linda's hand and walk down a deserted beach at sunrise.
     5.  I want to make memories that will put a smile on someone's face as they stare into the night sky or watch the flickering flames of a warm fire.

      It is not a big list but each item has meaning for me and there is hope that each can be accomplished.
     I have reached an age where my priorities have shifted.   I no longer worry about tomorrow as I have little control of the outcome.  What I can do is enjoy the day and hope that my deeds are good enough that some day someone will be reading this and the other postings of this blog and a smile will cross their lips or a tear will slide down their cheek.   If so,  my "Bucket List" will be complete.

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Sleepless Nights

                        Sleepless Nights




     Sleep has always been something that I could take or leave.  I have gone 24 hrs without sleep then get a good 8 hrs worth and be fine.  I couldn't tell you how much sleep I have lost over the years.  I think that as a youngster I didn't sleep as much because I thought I might miss out on something.   Now that I am a senior citizen I wonder whether or not I will wake up so I wake up every few hours just to check that body parts still work and feel right.  Last night was one of those nights that I couldn't get my brain to settle down.  It wondered all around with thoughts of the past, present and future.
     Weird images kept floating around, for instance I could see Grandpa Riggan leaning against the house wall on the front porch in a ladder-back chair.  He had on his bib overalls, his Bible in one hand and a corncob pipe in the other.  Smoke rose from the pipe as he silently read passages. Smoking a pipe was probably his only vice and I doubt that he had but the one pipe.  He kept a small cloth bag of tobacco in the bib pouch of his overalls, the bag had a yellow pull string that cinched it closed.  Sometimes he had a can of " Prince Albert " tobacco in the bib and when it or the bag was empty I would get them to put things in them like marbles or small toys.  There was nothing special about his tobacco it smelled like tobacco, looked like tobacco and when burned smelled like burned tobacco.
     Grandpa Wade was a pipe and cigar man.  He carried his cigars in his shirt pocket and pipe tobacco in a zippered leather pouch.  His cigars were usually stuck in the corner of his mouth with great plumes of smoke rising into the air but when he would get involved in talking the cigar would go out and it would then become something he would chew on or hold between his fingers and use as a pointer when highlighting a part of the story he was telling.  Granny saved the cigar boxes for us kids and they became the containers of our most prized possessions.  He had pipes of all kinds all over the house and cans of sweet smelling pipe tobacco on the coffee table.  Sometimes Grandpa would bite off a big plug of chewing tobacco, his car carried the signs of his chewing as when he worked up a lot of juice he would roll down the window and spit.  There was a long stream of dried tobacco juice down the side of the car looking like a pinstripe accenting the paint job or covering the dings created by whacking his pipe against the car to remove the ashes.
     As a young boy I stood in awe of my Grandfathers though they were opposites of each other in many ways.  One was large, loud, and full of life.   The other was thin, quiet, and very laid back with skin the color and texture of leather brought on by hard work in the fields.
     Now the brain moved in another direction recalling an item on the news about a ball player signing a contract for millions of dollars to play a game.  I remembered, when working for a bank years ago, the higher ups decided to look at customers as Millionaires regardless of their current income because during a person's lifetime they would make a million dollars.  This was hard to imagine when I was getting paid $12,000.00 per year to recover money they loaned to people who wouldn't pay it back, maybe they were including the salary Linda was making at the bank down the street.  In the seventies you talked of rich people as "Millionaires".  To even know of a millionaire was put you in high circles of society and now to be a millionaire is only a step above middle class. Multi millionaire is the new status and that is tens of millions.
     I remember five cent candy bars, fifty cent haircuts and no minimum wage, doctors who made house calls, and gasoline for fifteen cents a gallon and the guy who pumped it would give you "Green Stamps" to be redeemed for things.  Nowadays that candy bar cost at least a dollar, haircuts are $15 except for us seniors who can get one for $9.99 on seniors day. Doctor appointments are scheduled months ahead of time and if you get sick without an appointment it will cost extra because it is now an emergency, there is much value in planning ahead.  Gas prices fluctuate from $3.25 to $4.00 you have to pump it yourself and no green stamps.  The oil companies flagrantly flaunt their billions of dollars in profits and claim the high cost of gas is due civil unrest in some faraway country that has no oil reserves or a hurricane may move towards a coastal area of the U.S.
    Another shift in the brain waves.
    Everything is not learned in school.  Some things you pick up by experience or listening and watching others.  I learned that if you walk barefoot thru a yard covered in clover you run a high risk of being stung by a bee when you step on him.  I remember Dad trying to teach me how to tie my shoes - he made a loop from one shoestring and called it a tree then he took the other shoestring which he called the rabbit and as he wrapped the rabbit around the tree he said, "now watch the rabbit run around the tree and jump into the hole".  It wasn't too much of a stretch for the imagination and it worked.
     Switching tracks again.
     Getting older means you have been around for awhile therefore you have been thru many changes of society.  I have come to the conclusion that society has not changed all that much through out history.  I mean even in the middle ages there were the upper class, middle class and the lower class. We still have the same thing today we just call them the rich, middle class and the poor, the only difference today is that there are more people.  There have always been murderers and thieves and horrific crimes perpetrated on society only now there is a larger society.
     I don't remember having restless nights as I grew up.  I guess that is what is called the sleep of the innocent.  More likely it was because I hadn't lived long enough to have that many things that weighed on my mind - much less to remember.  It is hard knowing what the past holds and wondering how much, if any, will effect the future.  Maybe some day society will take the path less traveled - until then older people will have sleepless nights remembering the way things were and wondering how they got  to be the way they are.
     Where is Tinkerbell with the Fairy dust when you need her?





    

Aunts, Uncles and Cousins

     
                  Aunts Uncles and Cousins







      Growing up in the 50's was a family affair- brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles, parents and grandparents.  Family life was all important so a gathering of the clan happened often.  With us it was every Sunday when Dad drove the family to his parents place out in the country.  A couple of times a month the visit would be cut short so we could visit Mom's parents across the river.  Back then there were things called "blue laws " that kept all non-essential businesses closed on Sunday.  It was a day of rest and relaxation and across the land families gathered to spend the day in togetherness.
     Mom and Dad both came from what I considered large families.  Dad was one of six kids although a sister died shortly after birth.  Mom was one of six kids.  Families of the day were generally five plus kids, any less was just un-American.  Large families made for bunches of Aunts, Uncles and cousins.  On Mom's side of the family I was the first born grandchild, on Dad's side I was the first born grandson and of course I was the first born anything for Mom and Dad. I held several first place positions and all I had to do was be born.
     Family gatherings were fun in that everyone seemed to be happy to see each other.  They showed up dressed in their Sunday best clothes.  The uncles all seemed to gather together and start talking work, politics, sports and life in general.  The aunts would go off in a group and start talking about whatever   but it was called gossip.  Everyone would always comment about how big the kids were getting to be or wanting to know what we were learning in school, made me wonder if school really changed that much?  I couldn't walk by an Aunt without being pulled on to their lap and hugged so tight they squeezed the breath out of me then I would breathe in lungs full of whatever perfume they were wearing which could be quite overwhelming.  Aunts were about as bad as Grandmothers in that they always wanted hugs and kisses and to pinch your cheeks.  Every week someone was amazed at how much bigger I had gotten to be even though they had seen me just last weekend, had I grown that fast I would surely be ten feet tall by now.  There was always a comparison as to whether I looked more like my mother or father although there were times I favored one of the Grandparents.  All of the kids were put thru this standard ordeal in the order of their arrival.
     Mom's side of the family had something called Great Aunts and Uncles and second cousins who we would see from time to time.  We didn't understand about Aunts and Uncles being " Great ". Grandpa's Wade's sisters were great in stature so I figured that was why they were Great Aunts but then Granny's Wade's sister Sahara was downright petite and she was a Great Aunt.  Sometimes life can be confusing for kids.  Although we may not have understood what made them " Great " we did know they were family.
     Not all of the aunts and uncles lived close enough to show up every Sunday.  Dad's brother Ray was a trucker and was not always in town.  Mom's big brother RC lived in California, her brother AJ traveled a good bit especially after he got his law degree and her younger brother Paul was in the Navy and lived out of state for a while.  It was always a big event when a long absent member of the family came into town.
    I was in awe of my aunts and uncles they seemed to always be happy and in good spirits.  The gathering could at times get quite loud as the siblings talked of old times, good and bad.  I heard tales of how Grandpa Wade would line up all of the kids when he came home from work and  give them a good whack with one of his big hands for getting into trouble, whether they had or not didn't matter.  Grandpa Riggan supposedly was a strong disciplinarian who did not spare the rod, I could believe this as I once saw him get after my brother Pat with a switch,  though he was normally very laid back.
     I can't remember all of the stories but I do remember hearing that Dad and his brothers would flip over outhouses on Halloween and on one occasion there was someone still inside.  Mom's brothers RC and AJ evidently were very mischievous and did things like dismantling the principle's buggy and reassembling it on the roof of the school.  They were also involved in locking up a pony in the girls dressing room after a Friday night football game, the pony and his mess were not discovered until Monday.
     I had five cousins on Dad's side and eleven on Mom's side plus myself and siblings made for 21 grand kids.  Growing up I was somewhat envious of my cousins, they were either only children or had only one sibling, I on the other hand had three brothers and a sister.  There was no such thing as peace and quiet around our house because we were such a large family, we had less than our cousins but there was never a dull moment and we really didn't know the difference.  In one respect though, us cousins were all alike in that we all were skinny, barefoot and had big ears.  I have the old black and white pictures to prove it.
     Looking back I can say that I had my favorite aunts and uncles.  Dad's brother Sam was always arriving in a newer car, he changed cars as often as some people changed clothes and he had a boat.  Uncle Ray drove a big truck and to a young lad such as myself that was a very envious trade. Aunt Elizabeth was nice as was Aunt Francis.
     Now Aunt Francis was the oldest in Dad's family and Dad was the youngest.  The story I heard was that Aunt Francis spent  lot of time pretty much caring for Dad when he was a baby and on into his later years.  She was like a second mother, because of this she had a soft spot for Dad and when I came along the soft spot was transferred to me.  When I was younger I couldn't walk by without her grabbing me and pulling me onto her lap for some rib cracking hugs and kisses, all of the squirming and kicking would not get me loose until she was ready to let me go.  She was a gentle soul and whenever I could visit her, it seemed to light up her day.
     Mom's siblings were not much different.  Uncle RC was the oldest and he looked exactly like Grandpa just not quite as heavy.  He lived in California with his wife Norma and daughters Pam and Beth.  They seemed to be the exotic ones in that they lived so far away and we only saw them every few years.  Linda and I saw them a lot when we lived in California and always enjoyed their company.  We still talk to Aunt Norma on occasion.
     Uncle AJ was somewhat of a mystery to me when I was young but as I got older I figured out that he was a go-getter.  He put himself thru law school while working and became a corporate lawyer for a big manufacturing company.  He traveled the world for the company until he went into private practice.  I guess you could say he was the smart one of the family.
     Uncle Paul was next to the youngest of the family as well a the runt of the litter but of all of my blood uncles he was and still is my favorite.  He is a bit of an eccentric and more unlike any of his siblings than you can imagine but he is fun to be around and I think the world of him.  I could probably write a good story about him.  Sadly, I don't get back home much and haven't seen him in several years.
     Aunt Sarah was the youngest and to be honest was more like a big sister than an aunt.  I remember when she was still in high school and later dated and married Uncle Henry.
     Mom's sister Addie was married to uncle Harold.  They always had a smile and hearty laugh.  The story is that I was a hard birth for Mom and she was often sick.  When I wasn't sent off to Grandpa Riggan's,  Aunt Addie and Uncle Harold would take me for days.  I have been told that my first word was "Harold".  As I got older I called most of my uncles " Unc ".  The last time I saw Uncle Harold was at Mom's funeral I walked up to him and said ,"hey Unc".   He laughed and said he knew I would call him Unc.  Sadly, that was the last time I saw him or heard his contagious laughter.
     Here is a story about Uncle Harold and Uncle Paul:  Uncle Harold was a builder of custom homes and well respected in the industry.  Uncle Paul was a government employee working at a weather radar station.  As I said before, Uncle Paul is a bit of an eccentric and many years ago he bought a farm that has a brick house that was built before the Civil War by slave labor.  The bricks were made by hand and the walls were about 18" thick.  Uncle Paul decided to add to the kitchen and put in a root cellar at the same time.  After he had the cellar completed he bought wood from a local mill for the floor joist and asked me, Uncle Harold, and Grandpa Wade to come help him build the floor.
      Seems that Uncle Paul wanted to maintain the integrity of the house so he bought dried oak 2x10's and we cut them to length and started to nail them in place.  Mind you, these were not milled boards so they were a full two inches thick.  Every time we started a nail and got it to the point that we could swing away with the hammer the nail would bend or go flying thru the air.  The wood was dried out and hard.  We should have pre drilled the holes but didn't and every time Grandpa would bend a nail or one would go flying thru the air he cussed a blue streak and Uncle Harold would laugh so hard at Grandpa he would miss his nail head.  Uncle Paul was concerned that he had bought enough nails and cautioned us not to waste them - we went thru a bunch of nails.
     I left Tennessee about 1978 and my work took me all over the country.  The homecomings were always something to look forward to, I was always happy to see my relatives and sad to leave them. Eventually that generation started to age, first it was Dad who passed away then Grandpa Wade a few days later and one by one they have passed on to the next life. Only Aunt Jean ( Uncle RC's wife ) and Uncle Paul are still with us.
     As for the cousins most are still around though a couple have passed away.  Most are still in the middle Tennessee area.  A few like myself are scattered around and have made their homes elsewhere.  Some of us are retired now and others are fast approaching that stage of life.  For whatever reasons we haven't kept up on a regular basis so now our kids don't realize that they have family they never met or were so young they don't remember - how sad!  There was a time when a person was born, raised, lived, worked and died within a few miles of home then one day society became like the vagabonds of old and families scattered to the four winds.
     Like characters in a play,  my extended family weaved in and out of my life leaving little bits of themselves embedded in my memory waiting to be retrieved and woven into a story for the next generation or just as a pleasant thought to brighten my day.
     I keep saying to myself that I am going to go home and see family before it is too late but something always seems to come up.  Maybe tomorrow or next week or for sure next year I can find the time, we'll see... I will always remember.
    



     
    
     

Voyages of the Liberty's

      

                    Voyage Of The Liberty's
                                                          
                                                                      ( Amended )
                                                    _____________________________





                                         SS Robert George Harper
                          5 May 1943 ----- 21 December 1943

     January 22, 1942, the keel was laid on the SS Robert George Harper, hull # 0234.  She was Launched March 22, 1942, and completed ready for sea in April, 1942.  She was named for a congressman from South Carolina who served in congress from 1795 - 1801.  Her radio call letters were KEVO.
     Anchored in San Francisco, Dad reported aboard May 5, 1943, and the ship set sail May 10th for Port Heuneme in Santa Barbara, Ca. where loading was completed, they then sailed for Nandi Bay in the Fiji Islands on May 20th. The AGC officers report states that the ship averaged 10.73 knots and arrived in Nandi Bay on June 11, 1943 - " no enemy contact ", signed LTJG Donald I. Bailey.
     When the crew was not training, they were provided with various things to entertain themselves.  A Port Director Material Report list the following items for the recreation and welfare of the AGC crew: 2 pair boxing gloves, one set horseshoes, Chinese checkers, one sack of marbles, a cribbage board, an acey duecy game, Dominoes, several decks of playing cards, a phonograph with records, a medicine ball and a set of books for men at sea.  Having been aboard ship I have to scratch my head about the horse shoes and sack of marbles but then if a sailor can walk on a ship's deck in a rolling sea I guess he can figure out how to play a game of marbles on the same deck - and I do remember Dad was a pretty good horseshoe player.  Guess he learned in the Navy.
     A June crew roster lists Dad as a loader for the 20mm gun.
     The AGC officers report of 16 July 1943 states that on 25 June they departed Lautouka, Vitu Levu, Fiji and sailed for San Francisco where they arrived July 16th, " no enemy contact ". The report also states that two men who had picked up VD in the states were removed from the ship prior to leaving Fiji.
     The ship took on cargo in San Francisco and departed for San Diego, Ca., arriving there July 27th, they took on more cargo and departed for Noumea, New Caledonia July 30th.  Engine trouble developed August 21st and after stopping at sea to fix the problem they pulled in to the port of Suva, Fiji to make full repairs.  They departed Suva August 23 and arrived Noumea on the 27th.  After unloading, the ship departed New Caledonia for San Francisco on September 5th.  Averaging 10.74 knots they arrived stateside September 28th " no enemy contact ".
     The ship took on cargo in Oakland, Ca. and a new AGC crew except Dad who stayed aboard. They departed Oakland October 22 and sailed to Espiritu Santo an island in the New Hebrides.  They arrived November 13th " no enemy contact " as reported by LTJG C.F. Grossman.  After unloading they departed November 25th and arrived San Francisco, Ca. December 17th, 1943. Speed was 10.5 knots.

     The Fiji Islands were going to be the next target for Japan as it was on the supply route to Australia but the battle of Midway put a hurting on the Japanese and they didn't have the forces to put the plan into action.  The allies established an air base at Nadi and a Naval base at Nandi Bay.  There was another Naval base at Suva.  I could not find where there was any enemy action in the Fiji Islands during the war.
     Noumea, New Caledonia was a major supply port on the route to Australia and was occupied by allied troops in March 1942.  I could not find reports of enemy action in New Caledonia.
     Espiritu Santos is an island in the New Hebrides group of islands.  While there was no enemy action that took place during the war Espiritu Santo was considered a strategic forward base as it was a little over 500 miles from Guadal Canal.

     After the war, like a lot of Liberty ships, the Robert G. Harper was sold and continued to sail the oceans of the world until she was scrapped in 1970 in Taiwan.  Her name was changed in 1947 to the St Croix and she flew the Danish Flag.  In 1951 her name was again changed to the Marna and flew the Panamanian flag. While still flying the Panamanian flag in 1954 her name changed again to the Astron.  In 1962 she was known as the Uranos and flew a Greek flag and in 1966 she was called the Great Peace and sailed under the Liberian flag until she was sold to Taiwan in 1968 and scrapped.

     I could not find indication that Dad saw any enemy action while serving aboard the SS Robert George Harper.

                               

    

     
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                                            SS John H. Rosseter
                                             
                                            13 January 1944 ------ 11 December 1944

     June 2,1943, the keel was laid for hull# 1580.  She was launched 22 days later and towed away for rigging.  In July she was completed and ready for sea under the name John H Rosseter.  She was named for the director of operations for the war shipping board in WWI.
     Dad reported aboard January 13, 1944.  According to the previous AGC Officers reports the ship had been involved in air attacks in New Guinea in November 1943.  For the next 11 months Dad would be sailing into and out of the New Guinea area.
     Around January 18 the ship left San Francisco and sailed to Milne Bay, Papua, New Guinea.  They arrived February 16.  Over the next few weeks they were in the ports of Langemak and Saidor.
     The last part of March they dropped anchor in Cape Gloucester on the island of New Britain.  My research tells me that the Allies were engaged in battle with the enemy for Cape Gloucester from December 1943 until sometime in April of 1944.  The AGC Officers report dated 14 April 1944 included a Notification of the Death of Seaman Frank Knapp who was killed in an explosion on March 30, 1944, at Cape Gloucester, New Britain.  He was buried in the local military cemetery in Grave 355. His death was in the line of duty.
     The AGC officers reports for the time Dad spent aboard the John H Rosseter were very disappointing.  There were only five entries found for the period of January 1944 thru December 1944 and they were not very informative.
     April 12th the ship arrived in Lae, Papua , New Guinea then back to Langemak then back to Lae. The month of May found them in Langemak and Oro Bay and in June back again to Langemak and Oro Bay.  July was spent in Oro Bay, Langemak and Humboldt, Hollandia where a battle was in the mopping up stage. They finished up July in Langemak, Milne Bay and Townsville, Australia.
     According to the ship movement cards they stayed in Townsville until September 3rd then sailed to Cairns just up the coast, then back to Milne Bay and Hollandia. Sometime in late September they sailed to an island north of New Guinea called Biak where fighting had recently finished then back to Hollandia and on to Finschhafen and Langemak, New Guinea.
     Sometime in early November the ship sailed back to San Francisco and Dad left the ship in San Pedro in December 1944.
 

     The big island of New Guinea was split in half.  The eastern half was called Papua New Guinea and the western half was called Dutch New Guinea or Dutch East Indies.  Allied forces started booting the Japanese from the islands in 1943 and fighting continued in many areas until late 1944. The battle for Saidor was not over until 10 Feb 1944.  Hollandia was not recaptured until 30 March 1944 and Cape Gloucester fought on till April.  Even after the areas were considered secured and ground fighting had ended the Japanese continued well into 1945 with attempts to recapture the lost positions by sending bombers overhead to attack shipping and supply depots.
     Although I need more records to prove it, I think enough verifiable information has been found that indicates Dad was involved in enemy action during this voyage on at least one occasion and possibly more often.  All of the ports mentioned were held by the Japanese until U.S. and Australian forces started taking them back in 1943.  The fighting was fierce even after the battle was over in mid 1944 but Japanese forces continued to bombard troops and supply areas well into 1945.

     While researching WWII action for the island of Biak, I read a story from an Australian soldier who, after the battle was over, wandered around the Japanese base.  He walked into the PX and discovered dozens of pairs of ice skates.  Keep in mind that Biak is located maybe 150 miles south of the equator and here are all of these ice skates.  During interrogation of the prisoners, it was learned that the Japanese officers told the soldiers they were actually on an island just off the coast of San Francisco, CA. and they were going to invade at any time.  The ice skates were to be used for recreation after the successful invasion.


     As for the SS John H Rosseter, it appears that she continued sailing under a US flag until 1966 when she was scrapped in Tacoma, WA.


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                                                     SS Cape Archway

                                                     16 January 1945 ----- 13 April 1945


     Of the four ships Dad sailed on, the Cape Archway is the only ship believed to be a Victory ship. She is the only one of which I could find very little information about.  I know she was one of forty-nine built by the Consolidated Steel Corp of Wilmington, CA.  Her radio call letters were KWOD. Beyond that my computer skills petered out.
     Dad reported January 16, 1945 and around the 18th the ship departed for San Pedro, CA. to take on cargo.  February 1st the ship departed for Melbourne, Australia and arrived there on the 22nd of the month.  Two days later the ship set sail for Calcutta, India.  Along the way the ship was challenged by an allied B-24 bomber on patrol. The ship arrived in Calcutta on the 13th of March. Three days later they departed for Colombo, Ceylon ( now known as Sri Lanka ) and after just one day in port they set sail for Sydney, Australia, arriving there April 9, 1945.
     LTJG W.B. Leighton didn't write too many Voyage reports but when he did he seemed to complain about the condition of the guns (they were worn out) and the need for a refrigerator and electric fan for the crew (which he received).
     In Sydney the AGC crew was rotated off the ship on April 13th.  Dad went to his next assignment.
     While this was the shortest voyage time wise it was not necessarily short in the distance traveled. In just under three months the Cape Archway traveled some 19,077.64 statute miles or 16,581.8 nautical miles at a top speed of about 15 miles per hour if they ran at top speed.
  

     Although Melbourne and Sydney were never attacked, Colombo and Calcutta were both targets of the Japanese bombers throughout the war.  Calcutta was the center for supplies and personnel fighting in the China / Burma theater.  Colombo was the seat of the Southeast Asia Command and a major supplier of raw rubber.  Several major air battles were fought there.

     I can't find any information about the Cape Archway after the war.

                                                    ______________________________

       Update, further discoveries on the internet have produced information about the Cape Archway. There were several types of cargo ships built during the war, Liberty ships, Victory ships and types C1, C2, C3 and C4. The Cape Archway was a C1-B not a Victory ship, she was 417.75 ft. in length, 6750 gross tons and had a top speed of 14 knots ( about 16 mph ) from her 4,000 hp. engine. Both the C1-A and C1-B had the word " Cape " in it's name. there were 95 of these ships built.
     At the end of the war, she joined the Hawaiian American Line, March 31, 1944 and was manned by crews from that company. In 1949 she was sold to a private concern presumably the Hawaiian American Line as a permanent asset and sailed the oceans until 1974.



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                                                   SS Charles Lumis
                                                 

                                                   13 April 1945 ----- 24 October 1945

     The keel for Hull # 1649 was laid on 13 April 1943.  She was launched on May the 5th and completed ready for sea later in the month. The Charles Lumis was named for a journalist /author who wrote of the New Mexico Indians at the turn of the century.  The Charles Lumis was listed as a troop ship.
      April 17, 1945 found the ship in Sydney, Australia.  The AGC crew was rotated off and Dad reported aboard with the new crew and the ship quickly departed for Cairns just up the coast.  After a week the ship was dispatched to Biak island arriving there on the 6th of May.  A quick turnaround put them back to sea where they arrived at Morotai Island in the Netherlands East Indies.  From there they shipped out to Leyte Island in the Philippines Island, arriving there about the 20th of May and then on to Tocloban and Manila. The voyage report for this time frame shows " no enemy contact ".
     From Manila the ship sailed to Eniwetok island in the Marshal Islands then on to San Pedro, CA. Arriving there June 29th.  According to LT. W.H. Zimerman, the voyage was uneventful " no enemy contact ".
     The Japanese surrendered on August 15, 1945, the official " Formal Surrender " took place in Tokyo Bay on September 2, 1945.  The war was over.
     There was still a need for supplies so on August 23rd the ship left San Pedro headed for Pearl Harbor at a top speed of 11.9 knots.  After a couple of days in Pearl Harbor it was off again to Eniwetok to arrive by the 13th of September then Manila by the 23rd.  After waiting to be offloaded and rerouted they departed the 20th of October sailing to Tocloban where the ship was put into a maintenance status on the 24th of October 1945 and all AGC personnel were removed.
     In less than a month Dad was in Memphis, TN arriving there on the 28th of November and Honorably discharged from the Navy as of December 8, 1945.  His Navy career was over.


     Prior to Dad being assigned to the Charles Lumis it was awarded a battle star for it's participation in the battle for Leyte Gulf, 19 Nov 1944 / 29 Nov 1944.  As far as I know, the SS Charles Lumis continued to sail under the US flag until it was scrapped in Portland, OR. in 1965.



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            Why IS A Ship Called A SHE

       A SHIP IS CALLED A SHE BECAUSE THERE IS ALWAYS A GREAT DEAL OF BUSTLE AROUND HER.
       THERE IS USUALLY A GANG OF MEN ABOUT.
       SHE HAS A WAIST AND STAYS.
       IT TAKES A LOT OF PAINT TO KEEP HER GOOD LOOKING.
       IT IS NOT THE INITIAL EXPENSE THAT BREAKS YOU, IT'S THE UPKEEP.
       SHE CAN BE ALL DECKED OUT.
       IT TAKES AN EXPERIENCED MAN TO HANDLE HER CORRECTLY.
       AND WITHOUT A MAN AT THE HELM, SHE IS ABSOLUTELY UNCONTROLLABLE.
      SHE SHOWS HER TOPSIDES, HIDES HER BOTTOM WHEN COMING INTO PORT, ALWAYS FOR THE BUOYS.
     
     During my search I found several sites that discussed Liberty ships and I found that some of the info was contradicting  especially the speed, most sites stated that top speed was 11 knots which is pretty slow (about 12.661 mph), one knot is equal to 1.151 mph. The newer Victory ships were supposedly faster by about three knots.
        Liberty ships were built with a 5 year life span in mind.  About 2000 survived the war and continued to sail the oceans of the world well into the seventies.  Many had their name changed several times and sailed under many flags.  I didn't realize it at the time but when I was in the Navy during the late 1960's I saw Liberty ships in every port.  They were streaked with rust stains flowing from flaking slabs of rust, the pride with which they were built had disappeared long ago only to be over taken by neglect.  There are only two left now as museums.  Those ships not lost to storms at sea fell into disrepair after years of hard work and little care, they were cut up and sold for scrap in various ports around the world.  Like many of the men who sailed on them during war time, their days of glory are memories of a generation quickly passing into history with the hopes that someone will remember them.

WWII And Bill Riggan

                                        WWII And Bill Riggan



     A few years ago Little Sister Vickie gave me Dad's Naval discharge papers. The discharge listed Dad's duty assignments for the time he was in World War II as well as the name of the ships he was attached to. Dad and I never talked about the war or his experiences. Occasionally he would tell a humorous story such as those told in previous post. Like so many people before me I wish I could go back and ask both my parents so many questions that at the time just didn't seem important. I guess it is true about hindsight being 20/20.
     I didn't realize until much later in life that Dad was a member of the U.S. Navy Armed Guard, an all volunteer group of men assigned to man the guns on merchant ships as they crossed the oceans of the world. Dad's discharge papers provided me with pieces of his past I was unaware of and started me wondering what he might have gone thru during the war. Many volunteered for the Armed Forces of their choice without any hesitation, patriotism and revenge for the Pearl Harbor attack altered the lives and futures of young men and women across the Nation. To what extent did it alter Dad? we may never know.
     Armed with questions, a slow internet and a less than basic skills with the computer I decided "what the hell" and started on a quest thru the Internet that while informative it was also frustrating but here is what I found out.
    

     I think it is important to tell about the AGC and the ships Dad sailed aboard. Just prior to the U.S.'s entrance into WWII, the United States had been shipping war materials and supplies to England and Russia, via merchant ships, across the Atlantic Ocean. The German forces attacked these ships and sunk them on a large scale. In 1941 President Franklin Roosevelt did two things for the war effort in this regard - he first started the U.S. shipyards to building new merchant ships to replace those sunk, and he had the congress revive the Neutrality Act to allow merchant ships to protect themselves.
     The first of the new merchant ships slipped into the water September 24, 1941 and was followed by 2709 more over the next four years.  This was a new design for cargo ships, they were bigger, faster (if you call 11-14 knots fast -about 15 mph), easy to build (avg. about 29 days), and cheap, only $2 million each.  Roosevelt called them "Ugly Ducklings", the rest of the world came to know them as "Liberty Ships". Once the emergency need for ships was over another new design vessel was built, they were called "Victory Ships" and they too were bigger and faster (up to 16 knots),531 of these ships were built from January 1944 - 1946.
     The AGC was a re-creation of a similar program used during WWI and revived again for WWII in November 1941. The Navy started training the first of more than 6,000 officers and men for this hazardous duty because the Merchant Marine Union refused to allow its members to be taught how to fire the guns mounted to their ships so the Navy and President Roosevelt decided it would be better to supply trained sailors to do the job.  At first there was animosity from the Merchant Marine sailors but once the fighting started they came to appreciate the Navy personnel, there were even stories of the Merchant Marine sailors jumping in to help man the guns when the chips were down.
     In my search I read many accounts of the actions these ships and sailors were involved in.  One account told of an AGC crewman who left New York heading for Murmansk, Russia.  During the voyage he was on three different ships as each of the previous ships were sunk by submarines. Along the way he spent days floating in lifeboats and suffered the loss of shipmates. 
     Not all voyages were filled with such horror. Dad used to have a ring he made on one of his voyages, he told me they would take a quarter, stand it on edge on the steel mess table and whack it with a spoon while rotating it. This process took many hours but in the end you had a ring which looked like a wedding band and on the inside it read "in God we trust".  I haven't seen the ring since I was a kid so I hope it is still in the family.
     Liberty ships weighed some 7100 gross tons and could carry another 9,000 plus tons of cargo which equates to the equivalent of about 300 train carloads. Due to the war needs the ships often left port with their holes full and deck cargo of locomotives, airplanes, tanks and various other items lashed to the decks.  This would cause the ships to be top heavy and have to run slower in high seas.  Some of the loads were war materials such as aviation gas, ammunition, artillery shells or bombs, when hit during an attack, these ships would instantly disappear into an inferno of flame, there would be no survivors. In the North Atlantic Ocean German submarines raised such havoc with the sinking of the Liberty ships that it was calculated that the cost of the ship was recouped after one successful voyage. Regardless of the loads or dangers ahead, sailors of the Navy and Merchant Marines boarded their ships and sailed off to far horizons.
     In all of the sadness and horrors of war there were also humorous happenings.  As with any endeavor there will be SNAFUs.  There was the ship that left San Francisco loaded with barbed wire headed for a Pacific Island, on arrival they were told the cargo was not needed so try another island.  The ship sailed around island after island for months but nobody wanted their cargo.  The captain returned to San Francisco only to find out the barbed wire was supposed to go to Italy.  Sometime later a ship left the states loaded with a PT Boat squadron lashed to its decks and all of the personnel and spare parts in the holes.  Upon reaching the designated island no one knew anything about the cargo.  The captain, remembering the barbed wire incident, quickly offloaded the cargo and left port.  Several months later the ship returned to the island with another load and found the PT squadron sitting where he had left it.
     Armed with ship names and dates I scoured the Internet searching for knowledge. I found a website for the AGC where members and their families have tried to stay in contact with each other or submit stories to be archived for history.  I spent several hours reading with interest, hoping to find some mention of one of the ships Dad was assigned to or maybe someone was looking for him. Ironically the last entries on the message boards were several years old, the ranks of the "Greatest Generation" were thinning fast.
     I found a site where all of the Liberty ships were listed and I was able to get the date the keel was laid down, the date the ship was launched and completed ready for sea. I also was able to find out when the ship went to the scrap yard and where. Then I found that I could write to the National Archives in Maryland and get copies of the ship movement cards and later the copies of the Armed Guard Officers Report. Unfortunately, a key item in the search is not available - the ships logbooks were destroyed back in the 1970's because it was believed that no one would ever want the valuable information they contained.
     Much of the information I uncovered was intriguing and gave me a sense of what the men of the AGC went thru and in turn lead to more searching. With all of the information I came across there are questions left unanswered and probably will remain that way but there are stories left to tell about the voyages Dad took across the Pacific Ocean so the next step is to start putting it all together.
     Dad was 19 when he followed his older brothers into the Armed Forces.  January 18, 1943, he volunteered for the Navy and was sent to recruit training in San Diego, CA. Why did he wait a year before joining up? is one of those unanswered questions. Sometime during recruit training he volunteered again this time for Naval Armed Guard.  As a Seaman Second Class he reported for AGC training also in San Diego - that was April 2, 1943.
     May 5,1943, Dad reported aboard the SS Robert George Harper, the first of four ships he sailed on over the next two years.  At times he sailed calm seas and experienced days of boredom and monotony as the ship gently rose and fell with the swells of the ocean. Then there would be days of wind driven waves higher than the masthead, tossing the ship and all aboard in all directions, one such storm split a seam in the side of his ship and they had to limp into Sydney, Australia with the ship listing heavily to one side. I have come to the conclusion that there were also days of terror as they watched the skies for the enemy and probably at times even fired their guns to stave off the enemy assault.
     One of Dad's favorite movies was "Mr. Roberts".  It was about a ship's officer aboard a Navy supply ship as it sailed from port to port experiencing nothing but monotony and tedium. The officer wanted desperately to get into the real war which he did with fatal results. My findings tell me that Dad also sailed from monotony to tedium a few times but he also had his real war however brief it may have been.  How much war does it take to change a person? how much did it change Dad?  there lies another question to remain answered.
     In the following post titled "Voyages of the Liberty's", I put together all of the information I collected about the ships, ports of call and the AGC officers report. I was hoping for more than I was able to collect but it is what it is, there are still questions but there will probably not be any more answers.
     

Dog Days Of Summer

                   Dog Days Of Summer





     Growing up in Mt. Juliet was the highlight of my youth. The Cedar Creek area was country and filled with the things that all kids should experience like fishing, hunting, swimming, exploring or just wandering aimlessly thru fields or woods.
     Brother Pat and I spent a lot of time on Old Hickory Lake.  I was more of the fisherman and adventurer, Pat was into football although I imagine that he has some fond memories of the lake.  Our range covered from Langfords Cove to the 109 bridge and every creek and cove in between.  My friend Donnie Odum and I knew where every crappie could be caught and how to follow a school of hybrid bass or the best places to just have fun.
     Dad had a flat bottom 12' fishing boat built and mounted a 12 hp motor to it.  It made a great fishing boat but we didn't limit it to just fishing, by the time Dad swapped it for a runabout a year later we had already learned to water ski behind it.
     The runabout was a multi-use boat as we not only used it for skiing but fishing as well.  The runabout had a 35hp Evinrude motor with electric start (when the battery was charged) and Pat and I both could ski at the same time.
     Old Hickory Lake played a big roll in my youth. What follows is a composite of the adventures I had. I think it appropriate to say I have found that things in my youth were much bigger or smaller than I remember so all lengths of measurement should be taken with a grain of salt.


     Donnie Odum was the first friend I made when moving to Mt Juliet.  Though we haven't always kept in touch over the years my thoughts often include him and the great fun we had.
     Donnie had a small fiberglass fishing boat with maybe a 15hp motor. Donnie was an animal lover, he had cats, dogs, chickens and peacocks and was always looking for more.  One day he, Pat, and I went to a cove up the lake where Mallard ducks were raising their young.  Donnie wanted pet Mallards.  The young ducklings were several weeks old but not yet flying and Momma and Pappa never strayed far.
     The plan was simple - I would operate the boat chasing down the ducks as they skitted across the water. Pat would hang on to the side of the boat holding on to an inflatable raft,  he would let go as I brought him alongside a group of ducks.  Donnie would be perched in the bow of the boat ready to leap out at a group of ducks.  Simple huh? but just remember that old saying about best laid plans that go astray.
     We made several passes at groups of ducks.  Pat would jump out from his raft and Donnie would perform death defying leaps but it seemed all we could get was close.  At one point Donnie was on the bow shouting to go right then left as we chased down a group of ducklings, when we got close his body stretched out with his arms in front of him as if he were diving into a pool, with a splash he hit the water flat just inches away from his target.  I looked back to see him stand up in water about knee deep, covered in mud from head to toe.
     Turns out Mallards were easier to shoot than catch and they probably thought we were nuts.  At best I think all we did was scare the hell out of them. We didn't catch any ducks that day but a few did find their way into Donnie's menagerie some time later.

    Dad, having grown up around the upper parts of the lake, knew where many obstacles were submerged and they made great crappie beds.  Dad was a creature of habit and he only fished those places where he had been successful in the past, though not successful every time he went out.
    One day he took Ronnie and I fishing to several of his favorite fishing holes.  Now Ronnie at this time was maybe five years old and his attention span was very short, to keep from wasting good bait on Ronnie, Dad would put dead minnows on his hook.
    After several hours of fishing and no fish Dad was ready to head home.  As we entered Cedar Creek I talked Dad into stopping at a long private boat dock at the bottom of a tall cliff.  Dad pulled up along side the dock determined this was a waste of time so he never got out of the boat but he did let me try.  I dropped my bait next to the one twig sticking out of the water between the dock and the bank, I quickly pulled out what was known as a slab crappie. This got Dad's attention though he proclaimed that was probably one that was passing by.  I rebaited and quickly pulled a twin to the first fish.  Now Dad was tying the boat up and getting his pole ready.
     Ronnie wanted to fish too but we didn't want him to mess up our spot so we put him at the end of the dock with a dead minnow on a 5' cane pole with maybe 20' of line wrapped around the tip. Ronnie was now happy and sat down with his legs dangling off the end of the dock singing to himself and waving the pole around.  Dad and I proceeded to fish with live bait.
     It is a mystery about crappies that they will take bait from a hook placed in the same spot but ignore bait just 6 inches away.  There I was pulling out big crappie from the left side of this twig in the water and just a few inches away Dad couldn't even get a nibble.  Ronnie on the other hand was on the end of the dock in about 40' of water jerking his pole from side to side, singing away, when all of a sudden he hollers out "Dad, I got a fish ".
     Not wanting any interruptions Dad hollered back and told him to bring it in. By this time Ronnie had inadvertently unwound all of the line from the end of the pole and couldn't just lift the fish out of the water.  Not to be discouraged, Ronnie laid the pole down on the dock, turned around to get up, then picked up the pole and started walking backwards.  Twenty feet of line later a nice crappie flops on to the dock.
     I went over and took care of Ronnie's fish and put another dead minnow on his hook as he sat down to dangle his feet in the water.  I handed him his pole and he was singing as I walked away. While I was taking care of Ronnie, Dad moved his bait to the left of the twig and finally caught one.
     We continued fishing this way for another 1/2 hour or so and when all was said and done Ronnie wound up catching about as many as we did.  So much for being quiet and still so you don't scare the fish away.


     There was a large oak tree on a steep bank in the Cedar Creek cove.  Someone had hung a rope from the first limb which was about 25' - 30 ' up.  There were several knots tied in the end of the rope to keep hands from slipping. The base of the tree grew from the water's edge and leaned slightly towards the water.  There was a large flat boulder, about as big as a VW, that was half in the water and rose steeply from the water's edge.  The bank, or rather the steep cliff, was covered in sapling trees and rock outcroppings.  Again, someone had carved a narrow path thru the saplings and used the rocks as steps and launching platforms.  In other words, we had a rope swing out over the water.
      There was a trick to this swing, if you didn't watch what you were doing you could get hurt. The trick was not to swing back in.  The only good thing was that the water was deep.  To climb the path you first had to stretch to grab the rope then using your free hand to grab the saplings to pull yourself up the path.  Once you reached the top you would be standing on a rock outcropping leaning forward while holding to a sapling behind you with the other hand holding on to the rope.  Once you got some courage up you had to quickly grab the rope with both hands and climb about a foot higher while simultaneously lifting your feet out in front of you.  Failure to follow this procedure would mean that your butt would scrape the rocks as you swung out over the water.
     Now, once you reached the apex of the swing you had to let go - swinging back to the start point was not an option as some found out. The drop to the water was maybe 15' but it sure looked a lot higher.  Some of the guys, like Donnie or Ricky Martin, would do backward flips, forward flips and other dives.  Most people just swung out and let go dropping feet first into the water.   I dove.
     Weekends during the summer drew large numbers of teenagers to the swing.  Mostly it was the guys who swung out and dropped but there were a few girls brave enough although most of the time the girls sat in the boats and let us guys impress the hell out of them.  As they say today,  the place was a "chick magnet".  There would be 15 - 20 boats staged around watching us kids swing from that rope.  Old people would watch us and reminisce about better times.
     I have to be honest here and tell you that my first time I was scared to death.  I had gone out with Donnie and Ricky and watched them swing.  When time came to go they beat me to the boat and moved it off shore and wouldn't let me in until I swung out on the rope.  I'm not sure what scared me more - the swing or the 1/2 mile swim to the other side of the lake - but with a lot of nagging and encouragement, I did it, from then on I was a regular at the swing.
     Brother Pat became a regular and one day we even got Dad to swinging.  Turns out Mom was across the lake and had borrowed binoculars to watch us.  She was not happy.
     One day a large group of kids was at the swing and we had a large crowd of spectators watching us.  In one of the spectator boats there were two couples who were quite vocal.  One of the girls finally shamed her boyfriend enough that he jumped in the water to give the swing a go.  He made it to the top of the path and we gave him the rope and told him what to do with final instructions being "do not swing back in".  The guy stood there holding on to the rope looking down at the water as he built up his courage.  After several minutes he reached out and grabbed the rope as we had told him.  When he reached the end of the arc he let go, dropped two feet, yelled an expletive,  and grabbed the rope.  He swung back in and we were unable to stop him as he busted his butt on rocks and swung back out.  We yelled at him to let go but he hung on tight and came back in.  This time when he went back out he let go but he was too close to shore and dropped about three feet off the big boulder.  Surely his butt slapped the rock under the water fortunately it was his butt. When he surfaced he quickly swam to his boat and climbed aboard.  His girlfriend was going on about what happened - was he hurt? the girl just wouldn't give it up so he told her to shut up as he started the motor and quickly left the scene.  Needless to say, we never saw them again.
     Kids did get hurt from time to time and the Coast Guard would shoot the rope down and someone would put up a new one.  It was a part of life on Cedar Creek.
     It has been a while since I was on Cedar Creek, I guess the swing isn't as popular anymore, the path was grown over, the rope cut, the site was even hard to find.  I guess jet skis are more fun now.
   

     As if swinging out of a tree was not enough, we also had cliff diving.  Down the river there was a cliff in the bend.  The cliff was tall and straight and the water was deep.
     Now as my memory serves me, that cliff was 50' - 60' tall,  maybe more.  Standing at the edge you could see forever and had the sense that the water was a long ways down.  In reality it probably is more like 25' - 30', things are never as big as you remember.  What I do know is that I could only make two dives and would wind up with a headache.
     To get to the top you had to jump out of the boat swim to the lower end of the cliff and then climb to the top.  Once at the top you could stand at the edge and jump or get a running start which was sure to get you far enough from the cliff.  I chose the running start.
     We were very safety oriented as we kept a boat in the water to pull us in if something went wrong.  Generally speaking, we would jump, then swim about twenty yards to the lower end climb up and do it again.
     For some reason cliff diving didn't go over as well as the rope swing so unless you brought the girls with you there was no one worth impressing.  Still,  it was something to do on a hot summer day.


     One nice spring day some time in late March or early April, Brother Pat and I were visiting Donnie.  The weather was great, the temperature was nice and warm and we were looking for something to do.  Dare I say mischief may have been afoot.
     We were on Donnie's boat dock looking out at the water and at the boats moored at Cedar Creek Boat dock.  There was one boat about 40 + ft.  I think it was known as the Merrimack.  It was moored in a totally covered shed and we never saw it on the lake and we wanted to check it out.
      The only way to see the boat without permission was to sneak in by water so we stripped off our clothes and buck naked jumped into the water.  I must say that the water in Tennessee lakes that time of year was damn cold.  Probably another reason I didn't have kids till later in life.
     We swam over to the boat house and once inside explored the boat.  While we were exploring Donnie's Dad came looking for us but all he found was a pile of clothes.  He was calling out our names but we couldn't call back or he would know we were some place we shouldn't have been so we kept quiet until he gave up and went away.
     We learned later that when his Dad got back to the house his Mom asked if he found us, his Dad said all he found was a pile of clothes laying on the dock.
     The swim back was just as cold as the swim over and we probably were turning blue -  but what the hell,  it was one of those things you do "just because".


       Brother Pat and I learned to water ski, and along with Donnie and others,  the antics we had constitute another posting .
    

We Were Family

                                               We Were Family




     Little sister's recent posting about family vacations reminded me of a few times we spent as a family away from home and, yes, it was a vacation of sorts depending on who you asked .
     Prior to living in Mt. Juliet Dad was the only one in the family working therefore he was the only one to take a vacation.  Dad's idea of a vacation was to go fishing and if the fish didn't bite then there was always a good reason to take a drink or two or three.  Once we moved to the country Dad had a friend make him a boat - the fishing was more interesting and fun.
     Vacations always start with plenty of preparation.  In the case of the Riggan vacation that meant that, come January, Mom started buying up extra bread, lunch meat, milk and any other perishables and tossing them in the freezer.  Once the freezer was full she was ready for camping on Old Hickory Lake for two weeks.
     When the big day came Dad loaded up the car and boat and made several trips to the end of the road at Cedar Creek - about three miles from home.  We set up our canvas tents and laid out our sleeping bags or blankets, iced up the coolers and assembled the grill.  For the next two weeks we became water babies deeply tanned to a dark brown.
      Dad always put out a trot line to catch catfish and limb lines to catch turtles and there was always a rod and reel laying on the bank with a line in the water.  To round off the day we fished for crappie.
     Dad's bootlegger friend, Grady Campbell, would come out and set up camp.  Along with him would be his wife, his daughter Sadie and her son whose name escapes me at the moment but it may have been Junior.
     Now Grady was Dad's bootlegger and he was also a commercial fisherman - which job was his main source of income was a matter of conjecture.  Grady would put out a snag line on which he would catch spoonbill catfish.  Spoonbills were not like regular catfish, they would come to the surface at night and feed on insects and whatever.  Grady's snag line would foul hook them. Spoonbills had no bones and were delicious.
     The first year we camped out Dad had a 12 ft john boat with a 12 hp motor that we fished and water skied from.  We also used it to make freezer runs back up the creek to the house.   It was only a couple of miles by water and it didn't matter that things would thaw out on the way back.  During one of these freezer runs Dad, brother Pat and I were in the boat.  Dad was driving when we reached the old bridge and had to slow to a crawl because the water was shallow and full of stumps.  Dad slowed down and then cut the motor off and we thought he had sheared a pin on the propeller but he whispered and told us to be quite as he sculled the boat towards a sleeping turtle.  All of a sudden Dad reached in the water and grabbed the turtle by the tail and pulled him in the boat.  Naturally he threw turtle in the front of the boat.
     For those of you not familiar with wooden john boats let me tell you that they are the most simplistic of boats in that they have a hull and two or three boards to sit on.  We had three if you counted the bow.  When Dad threw the turtle up front he did so that the turtle landed on it's back. There was brother Pat and I barefooted and trying to squat on our seats and there was this turtle trying to flop over onto it's belly and Dad yelling at us to not let it flip over.  Did I mention that this was a snapping turtle better than a foot in diameter?  This thing was huge.   It not only had a sharp beaked mouth that chewed thru a wooden boat paddle, it also had long claws.  By the time we got the things Mom needed back to the boat the turtle had flipped over and he wasn't about to be flipped again.  Pat and I road back to the camp holding the turtle at bay with a boat paddle.   Dad seemed to think it was funny watching Pat and I fend off an angry turtle.  Did you know fried turtle taste like fried chicken?
     Dad always had some of his buddies stop for a beer or two so there was always plenty of people around and of course southern hospitality said you had to offer them to stay and eat.  Mom always seemed to be cooking something and taking care of Ronnie and Vickie (they were not in school when we first started camping).  She always said she had fun but I think she was glad to be back home when it was over.
     The next year Dad had traded the john boat for a wooden ski boat with a 35 hp motor.   This was great as it was faster and could pull us up on one ski or pull up Pat and I at the same time.  When we weren't fishing we were skiing or swimming or swinging from the rope swing.   The sun was warm the water cool and the days were long.  Tom Sawyer had nothing on us.
     Now little brother Clint, who was six years my junior, was at the stage that he was no longer a little kid but he really was just a little kid and he had to try to keep up with his big brothers.  We tried to teach him to ski and he must have swallowed a big chunk of the lake.  We didn't drown him although it was not because we didn't try.
     Our family vacations continued on until we moved to Hermitage Hills in 1965 and I went off to the Navy.  They were good times and I look back with fond memories because for two weeks every year for four years we were a family and did things together.
     I am glad to hear Vickie had a family vacation that harbors good memories, everyone needs good times to remember.