Can You Read Cursive?

"Beware the Ides of March!"

This letter is from my best friend, Larry Schieltz, sent in 1970.  He was a student at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio.  It was mailed just a few days before we left on our very first ski trip to a real mountain - Killington in Vermont.  The "Bond flick" he mentions at the end was "On Her Majesty's Secret Service."

Click the image to get an easier to read blowup.

Wow! This is my lucky day!

This is a short, but very cute story that always tickles me when I remember it.  The people involved were dear friends who I shared many good times with.  However, I'm not sure I'm a good enough writer to accurately convey its humor and poignancy.

In about 1983 I was the assistant director of the ski school at China Peak Ski Area.  One day I was skiing with my good friend Mary Dawn.

As you can see from the photo Mary Dawn was very pretty, she's also nearly six feet tall.  If you were male and had a pulse, you'd probably notice her.

Mary Dawn about 1983.

So, Mary Dawn and I finished a run and got in line to go back up the chairlift.  As we were waiting our turn our friend Spencer, a fellow instructor, joined the line.  For some now long forgotten reason, I wanted to talk to Spencer about something.

But the chairlift we were taking was a double - only two persons could ride together - so I turned to Mary Dawn and told her that I was going to ride with Spencer.

At almost that exact moment, Brook, a nice young instructor, also joined the line.

Brook was in his first year on the ski school.  He was a bit shy and still trying to find his place in the mildly competitive and modestly ego-driven world of ski instructors.  He had not yet developed the typical instructor's "too cool to be cool" demeanor.

I yelled over to him, "Brook, I'm riding up with Spencer, why don't you ride with Mary Dawn?"

Brook looked at her, and Mary Dawn, who is one of the friendliest people you could ever meet, gave him a big smile and said hello.  Brook looked back at Spencer and me and said, "Wow!  This is my lucky day!"

That's all there is to it.  I hope you can use your imagination to understand why I remember this incident so fondly.

How Dad Quit Smoking

My Dad started smoking in his late teens, as was common with young men of his generation.  He usually smoked Lucky Strikes, which was a popular, "manly" cigarette, known for (and valued due to) its high tar and nicotine.

Dad stopped smoking sometime in the mid-60's.  As I remember, it was a year or two after we moved to Stonequarry Road.  He did not make a big deal out of it, or even mention it.  Someone noticed and asked.  At the time, we all (Mom, my sisters and other family and friends) just figured he decided that it was bad for his health and an unnecessary expense.

Those letters on the bottom - LS/MFT say
Lucky Strike/Means Fine Tobacco

But it turned out there was more to the story.

I suspect that it's probably nearly impossible for youngsters to believe, but in those days you could buy a pack of cigarettes from a vending machine.

Remembering this, I realize that it was very odd that these machines existed as parents would send their kids to the store for cigarettes, but only if they gave them a note to show to the cashiers.  And the cigarettes were stored in a location that was not accessible to customers - you had to ask for them.

Perhaps the machines were not considered a problem as they were usually only located in places where children were not commonly present, like bars, workplaces, bowling alleys, veterans' organizations, gas stations and suchlike.

And cigarettes were really cheap in those days too.  When I first became aware of their cost, I'm pretty sure that they were 25₵ a pack.  Yes, just a quarter.

OK, so what's all this got to do with Dad and how he quit smoking?  I think this story says a lot about Dad's personality - his pride, his determination and his resolve.

In 1968, after I got out of High School and started college, I got a job working at Delco-Moraine, a GM factory that mostly manufactured brake and transmission parts.  It was the same place where Dad was a manager in charge of production lines which made most of the disc-brake parts used in GM vehicles.

Working there I got to know many of Dad's friends, co-workers and employees.  One guy I really liked was named Ruben.  Ruben was a jobsetter - his duties were to relieve other workers, do minor repairs and help out when someone's station backed up or they had some problem.

Talking to Ruben one day the subject of smoking came up and Ruben asked me, "Did you ever hear the story of how your Dad quit smoking?"

I was unaware that there was any "story" associated with Dad quitting and said so.

So Ruben tells me:

One day your Dad and I were talking.

And, in the course of this conversation, one or the other of us says, "Hey, I need a pack of cigarettes."  The other says, "Me too."

So we walked over to the vending machine.  Arriving there, we discovered that they had just raised the price of a pack from  25₵ to 30₵.

"G-d d-mn it!" your Dad says, "I'm not paying 30₵ for an f-ing pack of cigarettes!"

Reasonably, I replied, "But Bill, what choice do you have?"  I laughed, "What are you going to do?  Stop smoking?"

"H-ll, yes." your Dad replied, "I'll quit.   I'm not paying 30₵ for a d-mn pack of cigarettes!"

So I went back to our Department and told the rest of the guys, "Hey everybody, guess what?  Locker's going to quit smoking because they raised the price a nickel!"

We laughed and laughed.  Everyone was teasing him.  One guy started a pool about how long he'd last.  For a dollar you could pick the date you thought he'd start up again.

But he never did.

Merry Christmas!

I Must Be In The Front Row!

Older folk may remember this Beer Commercial.  These were broadcast in the late 80's and were very popular.  Bob Uecker was the star of many of them.  After this commercial came out, "I Must Be In The Front Row!" became a sort of catchphrase indicating self-importance.

If you've watched the clip you've seen that he was not given a seat in the front row, the seats he was moved to were often called the nosebleed seats then, but are now frequently called "Uecker Seats."In 1984 I went to a game at Dodger Stadium.  We sat very close to the exact seats that Uecker sat in during this commercial, which looks to me like it was filmed in Dodger Stadium.A remarkable thing about this game was that we saw Hall-of-Fame Member Steve Carlton hit a tremendous Grand Slam Homer off of Fernando Valenzuela, a perennial All-Star and a very fine pitcher.I happened to be keeping score at this game and here are the scoresheets.  I highlighted Carlton's Grand Slam.

November 22, 1963

On Friday, November 22, 1963 at about 1:30 o’clock pm (in Ohio where I was) I was in the 8^th grade in Sister Stella’s class at St. Christopher’s School when we heard the phone ring.  In addition to being our classroom teacher, Sister Stella was also the Principal.  Since there was usually no one in the Principal's Office, Dick Meyers, who sat by the door, was assigned to go answer the phone when it rang (which wasn’t often).

We were in Art Class at the time and we were creating mosaics by cutting up colored construction paper into “confetti” and then pasting them onto a background to form an image.  I was attempting to create a Thanksgiving turkey (ready to be served, not strutting around the barnyard).

Dick returned from the office a few minutes later and said, “I don’t know, it was some crazy lady.  I couldn’t understand what she was saying.”

Moments later the phone rang again.  Dick trudged off to the office again.  When he returned he looked a little pale and while he briefly glanced at us sitting in the room, he directed his comments to Sister Stella saying, “This lady says the President has been shot.  I think you better talk to her.”

My November 22, 1963 classmates

Sister Stella left the room.  She returned to tell us that President John F. Kennedy had been shot.  She notified the other classrooms and staff and then put the radio on over the PA.  Not long afterwards his death was announced.

I was a member of the “Safety Patrol” who worked as crossing guards.  When school let out at about 2:30pm I remember so many of the girls crying as they walked home.

Kennedy was sort of “our President” since he was the first (and so far only) Catholic President and of course he was also Irish, like lots of the students, so his death hit many of the children very hard.

Dear Readers – thanks for visiting.  I would really appreciate it if you would please leave your own stories (if you have them) about these events in the comments.

December 7 , 1941

Pearl Harbor was attacked on Sunday December 7, 1941, well before I was born, but both my Mom & Dad remembered it.

Mom & Dad were both 12 at the time.  It was about 1:00 o’clock pm in the eastern US where both Mom & Dad were, when the attack occurred.

Dad was at the farm of a family friend between Gibson & Kellenburger roads in Phoneton, Ohio.  He and the son of the family who owned the farm had been riding horses that morning.  They’d put the horses away and were walking back towards the house when the boy’s Father came out and told them.  Sometime since then the farm became a nine-hole par-3 golf course (now defunct) called Willow Pond.  So the area has changed a lot, but the buildings were still there in late 2009.  Dad used to comment that, “Right there at the corner of that barn was where I heard about Pearl Harbor.”

Mom was at home at 151 Clark Avenue in Chelsea, Massachusetts.  After Mass they came home and she and Aunt Eileen were playing.  Daddy Con went down to the local Pub for an ale and talk.  He wasn’t gone long when he came back and told them about the attack.

Hawaiian Division Emblem

Our relative who had the most vivid memories of Pearl Harbor was of course, cousin Vernon “Bud” Hale, who served with the US Army’s Hawaiian Division.  He was at Schofield Barracks in Hawaii on December 7th, 1941.

Dear Readers – thanks for visiting.  I would really appreciate it if you would please leave your own stories (if you have them) about these events in the comments.