Just a pair of geezers

 

This is a story about a couple of old geezers but it needs something of an introduction. It’s not my story really. 

It’s 1:30 in the morning on a Thursday and I really don’t feel like writing. But for the past nine hours, my brain has been telling me this must be written. Two days ago, I was up all night without sleeping. This happens sometimes, usually when I am reading a book. This time was different as I was mourning yet another death of a friend. His name is Mike Woods and a couple of years ago he sent me a message asking me if I was In Army Basic Training with him. It turned out he was and we developed a relationship. I quickly learned he was dying and urged him to remember he was a warrior and to fight the cancer that was ravaging his body. I learned of his death on Tuesday morning and couldn’t sleep.

So anyhow on Wednesday, I didn’t wake up until about 1 p.m. And I had an appointment with my doctor in an hour. Grabbing a peanut butter sandwich and a carton of milk, I got an Uber to the doctor and got there on time. 

The appointment went fine but I was having a problem getting a ride back. 

It took nearly an hour for the Uber app to find me a ride and I would have to wait about 55 minutes. The driver then cancelled and almost immediately I got another ride from Francis, who was ten minutes away. He was on his way back to Sarasota from St. Pete and was just as happy to get a rider as I was to be one.

 

Anyhow, we both were in the Army. I was in the infantry and he spent his time shooting mortars. I learned he was in his mid-80s and told him how much I was encouraged by that. Anyhow this is a tale of how much different a decade can be. He was in the Army in the 1950s–too late for Korea and too early for Vietnam. I told him the story about how I was number two in the draft lottery and he laughed like crazy. Time had turned a disaster into a funny memory. I also told him how I became a drill sergeant instead and there was more laughter. 

 

So we spent the 45 minutes talking. It turns out he lived about 25 miles south of Gettysburg and I shared some of my experiences when visiting there. I told him how a visit to Dwight Eisenhower’s nearby farm had been a real treat. And Francis told me about the time he had met Ike. 

 

He went home on a weekend pass and was dropped off at Gettysburg. He then hitched a ride home. 

 

Now it’s important to understand two things about that time. First, military people were expected to wear their uniforms when on leave. And second, this was after the second world war and Korea. And soldiers hitch hiking usually got rides rather quickly by people who showed their appreciation. On his way back, Francis’ father gave him a ride to Gettysburg, where it was fairly easy to hitch a ride. These were the days before tubeless and radial tires and getting a flat on a long road trip was almost expected.

 

Anyhow Francis is standing on the road in front of a farm and suddenly he is surrounded by armed guards. It turned out they were Secret Service people and Ike was out for a walk. 

Now understand this: Ike was the President at that time (1953-1961) He was, in fact, Francis’ COMMANDER IN CHIEF. And Francis was nervous as hell. Now I’m the one who is laughing.

 

Seeing his uniform, Ike came over and emphatically shook his hand. Francis said it was the most memorable moment of his life. We arrived at my place and I told him ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t know weather to salute or shit.”

 

We both laughed as he left for home. 

 

There were some lessons to be learned here. Here’s what I felt was important.

 

Laughter is indeed a great medicine. The time together took me over the hump morning my buddy.

 

While we both were close in age, there was a huge difference in America’s culture during our service. Soldiers simply didn’t wear uniforms while hitching for fear of being spit on, given the finger or even attacked. The counterculture and opposition to the war made a huge social difference.

 

All it was a couple of old folks sharing a bit of their lives, but the genuine friendship we had was a good thing for two lonely old people who lived alone. 

 

Thank you for making my day so much better Francis.

***

How Richard Nixon screwed up my life.

 

When I was a high school senior, I worked as a lifeguard at the best hotel in the area. It was the venue for our senior prom and many other activities. More than 50 years later, It’s still very nice.

 

Anyhow, I was really hungry and I went to the kitchen to get a sandwich for dinner. I spotted Nixon in the kitchen talking to some other people dressed in suits. Nixon was glaring at me and I was asked what I was doing there and then told to leave. That was probably the night I became a Democrat that night and I voted against him on my first time voting in 1968. But he beat Hubert Humphrey, who was incredibly gracious to me when, as a reporter, I covered his campaign several years later.

 

Now a missed sandwich isn’t the end of the world, but two things he did screwed up my life. First, he tried to reform the draft by having a lottery. I was number two. Fortunately, I was able to join the Reserves where, in their infinite display of military intelligence, they made me a drill sergeant.

 

Then Nixon was attacked for not calling up the reserves. And so I was a member of one of two units he did activate. It was a pleasure to watch him be forced to resign.