My 23rd Birthday
I remember
my 23rd birthday, mainly for contrast. When I turned 22 on December 28,
1969, I lived at home. I worked two jobs, as a junior salesman for a local
dairy and as an usher in a threatre. I also stocked groceries and worked part
time at my Dad’s shoe store. I played trombone in the Royal Orleaneans and the
Chevelles. I stopped attending UNO by the spring of the year as my grades had
plummeted and I had to sit out a semester. After I sat out one, I decided I’d
sit out some more. I had registered for the draft at 18 and by 1969/70 my college
deferment had lapsed and my draft number was in the 60s out of 365. I knew I’d
be drafted by May, 1970.
Because my
parents loved me they saw to it that I got an education. Because I got a decent
education, I could pass a test. To join the Air Force, you took a series of
mental tests. To join the Marines, you took a physical test. Anyway, I did well
enough that the Air Force took me the month I was to be drafted. Instead of
going to Fort Polk and Vietnam, I went to Lackland AFB for basic training. After
basic, I played in the drum and bugle corps there on tdy and then went to
Sheppard AFB and was trained as a computer operator. At Sheppard, I learned I
wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. I got set back a week. At basic training, I
learned I wasn’t in too great a physical condition. That changed. I learned how
to make my bed and fold my clothes and hang them in order. I learned how to
listen. I learned self discipline and humility. I graduated tech school in thirteen
weeks.
From
Sheppard I was assigned to Offutt AFB, SAC HQ. I worked the day shift at Data
Processing Central which was three floors underground at Bldg C. I carried a TSESI
classification and was vetted by the FBI. DPC 1 and 2 were the war machines for
the Strategic Air Command. We ran SAC OPS, SYS OPS, and BMEWS. We were directly
tied in to Cheyenne Mountain and fed the information for the screens viewed by
general staff one floor below us. I worked with other guys from all over the
United States who were in a similar situation to mine. They became lifelong
friends.
I met Ruth
Jones at Al’s Bar in Bellevue the first week of December, 1970. By June, the
next year, we would be married.
My birthday,
December, 28, 1970, I turned 23. I was no longer the boy who turned 22 the year
before.
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