Growing Up Me

This evening's post began as a response to a new online friend who asked me the open question, 'tell me more about you.' I wasn't sure how to respond as he has some sense of my 'present.' I thought about my unusual childhood; a big part, I suppose of why I am 'me.'

Here's some of what I wrote...

I live here in Amishland but I am NOT from here. I was born in Boise, Idaho. My father was a West-Point grad and US Air Force pilot. Funny for me to think now that when I was born my dad's job was flying nuclear bombs around the world in the belly of a B-52. During the height of the Cold War my dad was a warrior protecting our rights and freedoms.

We moved around a lot when I was growing up. We only lived in Idaho for six months after I was born; we then moved to Seattle. We lived in Seattle for two years and then moved ALL THE WAY across the country to Cocoa Beach, Florida.

Life in Cocoa Beach was a young boy's dream. We lived directly across A1A (Florida's ocean-front highway) from the beach. As if that wasn't cool enough, if you walked across our street our neighbors' backyards faced across an ocean sound. We lived at the narrowest point of the barrier island. Patrick AFB

My dad was an electrical engineer by his degrees. While stationed at Patrick he flew an electronically-equipped C-130 that flew tracking flights for the space program. By the time I was four year old I knew what a 'gantry' was; by the time I was six had some concept of 'telemetry.'

It really was awesome living there. We knew all the launch schedules--manned and un-manned--and would watch from the backyard or walk across the highway to the beach. You could hear the waves on the beach from my bedroom window at night. Every nice day was a 'play' day on the beach. I suppose this is where the sun, the sand, and the water got into my blood.

We lived there until I was seven. We then moved to Montgomery, Alabama for 11 long months and then on to Alexandria, Virginia as dad got stationed at the Pentagon. I joke now that we lived in the DC area when it was still a very nice place to live; the Beltway really was a freeway. We could buzz over to the Officer's Club in Maryland in minutes; try that same route now. wink

Virginia was very nice. Our family thrived there. School was very cool as 'field trips' were to the Smithsonian. The commonwealth of Virginia is rightly proud of it's long heritage and place in the nation's history. Our house was built on what was touted as one of George Washington's five 'original' farms. Mount Vernon was very close by. I suppose while living there I developed some sense of history. Little did I know at the time that, through my dad and his job, I was witnessing it.

We lived in Virginia for almost five years. I went from before 3rd to the first part of 7th grade there. During the last year we lived there my dad was not home. He had gone off to Thailand to help in the Vietnam War. When he left he told us that he was going there to 'bomb' the Ho Chi Minh trail. We all assumed by 'bomb' he meant dropping explosives on the enemy. It's only recently that I discovered through online research that my dad was in Thailand as a 'nimrod.'

'Nimrod' was the code-name for a group of elite pilots who flew a plane called an A-26 from NKP, Thailand. Their mission was not to bomb-and-kill the enemy; their mission was surveillance. My dad was, in a sense, a spy. He flew his plane at very low altitude, at night dropping not bombs; but, instead, electronic sensors. These sensors reported back to the command post any movements along the trail of troops or materiel. When detected the 'real' bombers would come in. Pretty cool.

I suppose that's when I learned to want to know what's going on around the world. My life was affected by events a world-away. I had to try to understand; did my best to learn.

Dad came home from Thailand and we moved from Virginia to Omaha, Nebraska; Strategic Air Command Headquarters. Leaving the metro DC area for life on the Great Plains was not warmly received. The schools were good and it really wasn't as bad as we imagined. The winters were VERY cold and VERY windy. My blood 'thickened' there.

Dad was unhappy there. He had come home from the Vietnam effort disillusioned by the political influences on the War. He was taught at West Point if you are fighting a war; you are fighting to WIN it. When he came home he seemed to know; we weren't.

He was unhappy in his job in Omaha and put in for a transfer. He got new orders and brought the sad news home to us one night. We were headed to Grand Forks, ND. He had always told us that if you wanted to move someplace to request the place furthest away from where you really wanted to be. There was a collective family gasp at the news of our new destination.

I don't know what strings he pulled but he got the orders changed. We were now headed to California. Hallelujah!

I told the story of the trip from Nebraska and my feelings about California in a previous blog entry.

As you can tell, my childhood 'ride' was pretty cool. I had been exposed to so much. Not only was I a well-schooled kid; I was a well-traveled one, too. Then we moved here. Ugh.

My father retired from his twenty years of service in the Air Force on the first of May when I was 15. My sister had already headed 'back-east' to attend Penn State. Both my parents were born in PA and had always maintained legal residence there. I had only ever been here on brief visits to my grandparents.

My dad died five days after he retired on May 6th that year. We were traveling back east from California for him to take a job either near DC or for IBM up in Poughkeepsie, NY. Poughkeepsie was close to West Point and he really loved the area. I suppose my love of the river hills here may somehow be a reflection of him. I have not made the trip yet to West Point but have traveled close by. The Hudson passes through a glacier-carved river hills area; same thing with the river here.

I won't get into that story now; long story made short, that's how I came to be in Amishland. I suppose it's here that I learned the meaning of 'culture,' as I am not a part of this one. These local people are very different from me; for generations they haven't been anywhere, have no desire to go anywhere, either. I joke now we were THE FIRST family that EVER moved here from somewhere else!

It sure felt that way and now; as I have met A LOT of people on my job, 'culturally' it still does. I make some 'sport' now on my job of identifying locals from the people that have moved here from somewhere else. I am Very Good at it.

Given my life experience I am proud to say I am NOT from 'around here.' My world view does not include blinders, I really want to know what's over the next ridge! Sorry to say, not the locals here. As long as they have what they need; they don't care what's on the other side.

Just a brief of my childhood; the base from which I see things.

I hope all's well with everyone.
Talk to some of you soon.

Happy Easter

May the rebirth of the season touch you all!