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 A blog of no uncertain musings. What goes on in my mind is often a source of wonder to me. |
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My mind and my life are wonderous things ... as are yours, I'm sure. I have more slips of paper and pages of notebooks with musings and thoughts than I really know what to do with. Someone, actually several someones, have suggested I start a blog ... or a journal as a means of focusing some of this mental energy. To be honest, I don't even know what the difference between a 'journal' and 'blog' is--or if there even is a difference. Read on, my friends, and you can judge for yourself whether it even matters. And so....  I'm JACE. Yep ... that's me! And somewhere in all my writings my last name may be posted. But I'll just leave it at Jace for right now. I'm 70 years old and heading full tilt to 71. It's strange that while I'm going through some rather serious medical issues, I still consider myself to be in the prime of my life--pretty good shape physically AND mentally, though I don't run for competition anymore  . I love to ... dang, if I put this stuff here, I won't have anything for my blog.Guess you just have to be patient until such stuff leaks out.  Perhaps 2025, having embraced my retirement, will see more participation in my journaling efforts. Well, one can hope.... |
| Just dropping in while I have a moment to say hi everyone. Still cruising the Atlantic. All we have to do is avoid the weather coming up the eastern coast. And hoping the air traffic controllers are still on the job .... Back on the 15th. See all y'all then. |
| Welcome to October! The tenth month of the year in the Julian and Gregorian calendars, October comes from the Latin and Greek ôctō meaning "eight". The original calendar created by the Roman had ten months with October as the eighth month. (November and December were the ninth and tenth months.) Sometime later, the months of January and February were inserted at the beginning of the calendar. Associated with the Autumn season in the Northern Hemisphere, October is a prime time for Fall festivals and harvest. It's also the only month in which all four of the major US/Canada professional sports leagues have scheduled games--MLB, NFL, NHL, and NBA. It's also the time that Christmas decorations show up in stores. Yeah, you were just waiting for that. For me, October is a busy birthday month. My wife's is the 18th, my Mom's is the 10th, a brother is the 17th, and my son-in-law is the 18th {same day as his mom's). Which reminds me, it's shopping time for my wife. Ah, what to get .... |
| I know that it's Fall, officially, I mean. But I'm not ready to give up the shorts of Summer. The first time I have to wear long pants (other than for some event) then Summer is really over. A long-sleeved shirt or light jacket doesn't count. It's a rule, you know. My wife thinks I have too many rules. This morning's walk was my coolest walk yet at 54 degrees. But the weatherman is calling for an 80 degree high. Shorts, definitely! In less than a week, we fly to Quebec City to begin a ten-day Fall Foliage cruise up the St. Lawerence through several Maritime provinces down the coast of Maine ending in Portland. Growing up in Maine, I have no illusions that the October temperature may get down to the low 40's in the morning. I just hope the fall colors are vibrant this year and worth the cooler temps. Looking forward to a great trip, bundled up or not. |
| Just a quick update regarding my latest CT scans on 10 Sep: the cyst located on my left kidney is just a hemorrhagic or proteinaceous cyst, which sounds bad enough on its own, but is non-cancerous. Apparently, the cyst existed on my CT scans taken in June, and was considered benign then. Suffice to say, my health is to be considered good with my next follow-up scans in March 2026. |
| Small Victories. That was the title and subject of my latest Noticing Newbies newsletter. That phrase also represents my life at present. Anyone familiar with this blog know about my recent ... perhaps, I should say on-going medical issues. Currently I'm on a maintenance schedule requiring me to have CT scans every six months for the next three years. I had my latest scan last Thursday, and received a call about my results. No cancer ... per se. I said per se because they noticed a small thumbnail-sized cyst on my left kidney. By itself, I would not be worried. But since I only have that kidney left (no pun intended), I'll need a biopsy. Moving over from Oncology to Urology hasn't been as quick as I'd hoped. I've made several calls to set up an appointment, but without success. Will try again today. Apart from my obvious concern, I will be taking an extended vacation next month beginning on the 4th. Having an unknown diagnosis hanging over me doesn't calm my nerves for the trip. But I suppose a few days is not the end of the world, right? On the plus side, my daily walk streak is at 156 days--more than any of my current WDC Achievement streaks. And, Reluctant Halloweenist  is having surgery soon. See "Note: So this Friday I’m going in for surgery. They’re g...". Take a moment to drop him a line of support on the Newsfeed note or his Notebook. May his small victories be many. |
| Just a quick thank you to all who've responded to and supported my journey this past year. It really helps to read your comments when I fell a bit down. With all that's happened still fresh, it's hard not to think that a little pain here and there is a harbinger of something more. I have to say that participating in the various Writing.Com festivities was some of the best medicine ever. This was really the first year in a very long time I could devote to the events and fun of each day. A special shout out to all who actually ran an event or activity. What a lot of work, not only during the event each day, but taking care of the aftermath ensuring each participant is properly recognized. Thank you! |
| Yesterday I had an appointment with my Oncologist for what I thought was my quarterly CT scans. I guess I've had so many tests and scans since the beginning of the year, I've lost track of which test I was supposed to have and for what reason. Yesterday's visit included some bloodwork, CT scans were of my abdomen/pelvis and my chest, followed by a chat with my doctor. The results of the scans weren't available when I met with my doctor so we discussed some possible scenarios and my treatment plan. I really like her; she's very compassionate and knows how to place a body at ease. I certainly hope she's still around after my next set of scans in March 2026. (Some doctors at the VA, though civilian, get moved around.) The scans were my first set of six-month scans dated from my surgery in April. I had scans in June, which I thought were the first set of three-month scans. In fact, the June scans were extra, done to correct a diagnosis regarding a biopsy of a lymph node in March. It turns out the original cancer diagnosis was NOT from that node--good for me. Now my treatment schedule is just CT scans every six months for three years, the first set being yesterday. Treatment adjustments will obviously be made if anything bad shows up. Because the drive to the VA Hospital is two hours, I didn't get my daily walk in until after getting home mid-afternoon. And, of course, I got a call from the Oncology Clinic with the results while on my walk. Fortunately, I carry a small notebook and pen EVERYWHERE I go. I never rely on my memory these days; on the rare occasion I forget them, I need them. Of the five results, only one is pretty concerning--there's a small cyst on my remaining kidney. A biopsy is needed to determine my next course of action. Apart from that cyst, there's no recurrence of cancer. I'm off to make some phone calls. |
| One great thing about all the festivities during the past week: I didn't think too much about my upcoming scans for any potential issues regarding my cancer diagnosis earlier this year. I'll be having two CT's--one abdomen/pelvis and one chest--on 10 Sep. This will be the second set of scans since my surgery. I'm supposed to have these every three months for a year. Perhaps it's normal to ascribe every little pain or change in my body to these past issues, even knowing that the surgery removed all the cancer the surgeon could find. But, the one thing I can't quite put my finger on is that I feel different. I guess such thoughts will be my new norm. I'm a little concerned about some weight gain. Backstory: I got out of the Army in Aug 1992 weighing 161 lbs at my exit physical. Until my surgery in Apr this year, I never weighed more than 165 or less than 160 at any official exam. It was a big joke that my bowling average over 12 years was the same as my weight. About two weeks after my surgery I began tracking my weight at home, which was 156 plus or minus two pounds until about 22 Aug. Over the past two weeks I'm up about six pounds. For me, that's significant. Guess I'll find out something after the 10th. On the positive side, I had loads of fun with all the Birthday celebrations. My biggest worry was figuring out in which event to participate.  |
An essay in response to a prompt, General Merit Badges-#1, for "Earn the Badge - CLOSED"  My writing journey didn't start when I learned my first letters. It didn't startwith the papers I had to write in school. It certainly didn't start from all the adventures I had with my friends. It started when I was dragged kicking and screaming into an English class that I required to graduate--one that had been overlooked during each of my four years of college, possible because of the numerous academic advisors over four disciplines because I changed majors a number of times. Well, they caught that oversight about three weeks from graduation. I didn't walk that stage. Of course, by the time I was told about the snafu, all available English summer courses were filled. I would have to come back in the Fall. I decided to work and earn some extra money for my final semester, which turned out to be the Spring semester. That creative writing course, which satisfied my English requirement, turned me onto writing. That's where my love for writing and reading essays happened. I learned about the four major types of essays--argumentative, expository, narrative (or personal), and descriptive. There are many variations, of course. I went into the US Army straight from graduation, and learned a lot of writing operations orders and standing operating procedures (SOPs). Though my personal writing journey was tamped down, I could effectively communicate through the written word. Even as I started and grew my woodworking business after the army, writing was more of a by-product. But as my business became established, I was able to begin writing about things that interested me. The stories were there; but where was I to post them? In the early days of the internet, there were few sites for my work. Sites came, and sites disappeared. I wish I knew what I was doing when WDC first appeared. It took me eight years to discover Writing.Com I wonder, can a person have a regret over not doing something he never knew existed? I do wish I'd found WDC earlier. But, I do what I can do now. And to those joining now, I say--better now than never. Welcome aboard! |
The prompt for Day 4 in "Writing.Com in Wonderland" is:Let us know at least 15 places you’d love to visit if you have the opportunity to do so. Please give brief reasons--one sentence or less--of why these places are on your bucket list. This is rather complicated as several places that were on my bucket list to visit have been fulfilled courtesy of my second marriage in 2013. My wife and I have already visited: The western Carribean, including Cozumel, via cruise. The eastern Carribean, including Bermuda, via cruise. Alaska, including Juneau and Denali, via cruise and rail. The Great Lakes, all but Superior, via cruise through Canada and the US. The eastern Mediterranean, including Italy, Greece, and other Balkan countries, via cruise. And so many more places. The Bucket Travel List: 1. Crater of Diamonds State Park, in Arkansas, just to say we dug for diamonds. 2. The Pacific Coast Highway Trip (minus San Diego and LA), for the scenery and serenity. 3. The Badlands National Park, because we missed them on our RV trip west because my wife was sick. 4. Fall Foliage cruise from Quebec City through the Canadian Maritime provinces to Portland, Maine, via cruise. We did a drive through New England in Fall some years back and want to compare with the coast in Fall. 5. Washington DC in the Spring during the cherry blossom blooms. Also, I wish to see the Smithsonian Museum. 6. Ireland and Scotland, for the people, the scenery and the food. 7. Iceland, for the scenery. 8. Germany via a Rhine River cruise, because we both love the food and the scenery. 9. Chicago, because my wife wants to visit the city. Oh well ... at least it's not New York City. 10. New Orleans, for the culture, ambiance and food. 11. Trans-Canada via rail from Toronto to Vancouver because we've never been on a major rail trip. 12. Any Winter Olympics because I've always wanted to attend one. 13. Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga, TN because my family stopped there on a trip from San Antonio to Maine when I was six. 14. A two-week drive through the Blue Ridge Mountains staying at B&B's and hiking. 15. Finally, an RV trip to any National Parks in Colorado, Utah, and surrounding states. I suspect my recent retirement has given my wife far too many ideas for traveling. It's not dull around here.  |
The prompt for Day 4 in "Earn the Badge - CLOSED" is:We all started somewhere. What's one of the first things you posted to your portfolio? How did you feel about it then? What would you change now or do differently? Is it hidden in your port? Showcase this gem on the newsfeed. I wrote the following story while on another social internet site. But that site closed and I was left adrift. A search of Google led me to Writing.Com. This story was one of my first stories posted on WDC; I received my first review for this offering as well.
The story was based on a conversation I had with another member of that first social site. We were talking about lighthouses, a phenomenon that has piqued my interest for many years. She mentioned a haunted lighthouse in Minnesota, and my imagination was off and running. I received some pretty positive comments from people on that site about my story. When I joined WDC, I had more than 20 stories from which I might post. Before I joined WDC, I discovered there was an active Erotica group there, which was my favorite writing interest. Many of those 20-plus stories were of the Erotica genre. I was a bit shy at first, how my erotic tales might be received. I opted for safety and posted "The Refuge." While I wouldn't say this story is hidden, a lot of stories reside in various folders in my Port--the function of having a Premium membership with all that available space. Perhaps, I will do some Fall cleaning. Still, this tale continues to be one of my favorites ... as is. |
The prompt for Day 3 in "Earn the Badge - CLOSED" is:In your notebook, blog, or on the newsfeed, please tell us what your musical vibe is. Do you listen to music when you write? Do any groups/singers/songs inspire you to write? Share a YouTube video of your latest favorite song or artist. What is it about this song that speaks to you? Honestly, music is the glue that holds my life together. But I always harken back to the folk music days of the 60's and 70's. From Gordon Lightfoot to Cat Stevens, James Taylor to Simon & Garfunkle, and Joan Baez to CSN&Y. I could still be listing names well into the afternoon. And then there's my favorite artist, an almost unknown: David Mallett. His most well-known hit is performed above. Covered by John Denver, Pete Seeger, and many others, The Garden Song continues to be my favorite. This song was part of every coffeehouse set my first wife and I would play for more than 35 years. The Garden Song was there when my youngest daughter began singing with me. David was from my hometown, Dover-Foxcroft, Maine. Or rather, I was from his as he was four years older than I. Though I can no longer play them (no turntable), I still have every album he produced. There are so many facets to this man, and his songs cover most of them. David was an excellent musician and a consummate performer. He passed away last December (like so many of the musicians I've enjoyed over these many years). YouTube has many of his songs. I hope you'll take some time and give a listen. |
The prompt for Day 2 in "Writing.Com in Wonderland" is:Find 12 sets of two items with the same name, and review one item. Author Note: Yes, I started with titles that I used--most of them were used before their match. 1.
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My Review: Review of "A NIGHT TO REMEMBER"  |
The prompt for Day 2 in "Earn the Badge - CLOSED" is Which of your WDC friends deserves some recognition? How have they supported you over your time here? C'mon now, ask an easy question. Two caveats come to mind. First, when you've been a member as long as I have--and I suspect also for those members with at least ten years-- there's no way to pin down 30 or 50-plus persons who have supported me over my 17-plus years on WDC. My biggest worry is overlooking a key someone with such a list. Second, the support I received early on in my first four or five years is not the same as over the past four or five years. Does this mean I should have two lists? My mind could get way out of hand with this prompt. Obviously, there's one solution (and I will limit the lists to ten folks): The early years: Jeff-o'-lantern 🎃  , Shannon  , Booo-rooke  , NickiD89  , Mara ♣ McBain  , Purple Pumpkin Patch , SHERRI GIBSON  , Adriana Noir  , Stephanie Grace , The StoryMistress  The middle years: JoDe , Elle  , ~ Santa Sisco ~ , THANKFUL SONALI Party Hopping!  , iKïyå§amhain  , Joy's busy haunting  , Sophyween  , Legerdemain  , , The StoryMaster  The latter years: Wraithy WiԎchy of Woe!  , ScaryBee , Choconut  , GrueSum1  , 🐺HowlersMoon  , Nixie 🦊  , Nosferette  , Gaby  , GabriellaR45 , Riot My abject apologies for those I failed to mention. And there will be overlap! No one, and I mean NO ONE, remains a member without the support of the community. |
An entry "Writing.Com in Wonderland" , Day 1: I joined Writing.Com at 8:34am on 2 May 08 after stumbling onto the site while looking for a replacement for the defunct Yahoo 360. I posted my first story, called "The Young Mother" and based on a real event, at 3:57pm the following day after a bit of trial and error. My first review came from Allyson Lindt with 4.5 stars for "The Refuge" on 4 May 08 at 1:12pm, which really swelled my head. In less than a month, I had filled my Free Portfolio with ten stories and poems. The first merit badge I actually earned came on 1 Jun 08 for a 3rd Place May entry entitled "Fulfillment" to the "100 Words Contest" .  My first stop with a paid membership was Upgraded before the end of May 08. I have been a Premium member since Aug 08. Because of my penchant for writing erotica, I became a member of my first group--"Unofficial Erotica Newsletter Group" where I met their leader, Jeff-o'-lantern 🎃 . Later, Jeff-o'-lantern 🎃 invited me to become a member of "Rising Stars of WdC" , where he acted as my mentor. One thing I learned from my mentor was that I was not alone here; help was available for any feature that eluded me. Friends like Booo-rooke , Purple Pumpkin Patch , Shannon , and many others too numerous to name here, taught me many lessons about the workings of WDC. While I was more off than on with it, I wrote my first Blog entry on 10 Dec 08 after acting on a suggestion from a member who's name I do not recall. Embracing blogging has been a recent phenomenon with 56% of my total 184 entries coming in the past six months. I was promoted to Preferred Author on 14 Nov 08. I won the WYRM's Gauntlet, a challenge-based writing-intensive speculative Sci Fi contest, with "The Warlock's Circle " in 2009. I was chosen as one of a select group to help write and collate "Writing.Com 101" , which took about six months to produce, and was released sitewide the same day I was promoted to Moderator--30 Jul 10. I've been a full-time editor of the Noticing Newbies newsletter since my first edition on 29 Jun 2011. I was honored to be promoted to Senior Moderator on 1 Aug 13. I don't have a writing support group outside of Writing.Com, though I do talk with people who comment on one of the many WDC shirts I wear almost daily. Since retiring about a year and a half ago, I've resumed my reviewing efforts completing almost 25% of my total qualified reviews in that period. While I don't consider myself a poet by nature, I enjoy writing form poetry with a special bent toward limericks. I'm currently working on a series of memoirs of my life for my kids and grand-kids. I visit Writing.Com every day possible ... as long as WiFi is available. Tis a mite sad that I have far too many friends and acquaintances to be listed in the space I have available here, With imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, I'm emulating Nosferette 's submission with my format for this challenge. |
Part 3 Week 3: Jump Week. The days of push-ups, sit-ups and long runs are over. The training area was about a click (one kilometer) from the airfield. Each morning we would run to the airfield in formation and get outfitted with our gear for jumping. The run was designed to weed out those who were injured enough to be unable to jump. And like every other morning we’d enjoyed thus far, it was hot! We were divided into groups, called sticks, based on the plane from which we would be jumping (either a C-130 propeller-driven cargo plane or a C-141 jet engine driven cargo plane). I don’t remember how many were in a stick, but we hoped the powers that be allowed for personal confusion, reluctance and reticence, and just plain stupidity on our part when determining how many needed to jump from each plane. Needless to say, the Black Hats were there to apply their size 14 boot to the fourth point of contact of any cadet unable to exit the door on his own. After the first such application of persuasion, the rest of us moved smartly to the door and into freedom. Actually, after baking on an asphalt runway for an hour or so in full gear, waiting to board a plane with no air-conditioning, and packed in so tight we could barely breathe, we welcomed the opportunity for a little freedom. While waiting to board the airplane, the Black Hats would impart bits of wisdom for us to remember thus making our jumps safer. Such as: - "While the drop zone is fairly large, you must exit the aircraft in a timely manner so that those at the end of your stick have time to exit while still over the drop zone. The aircraft will not circle back to allow late jumpers to exit." - "If you are first in line to jump, you will be required to “stand in the door.” You’ll be afforded the opportunity to grip the handles firmly on each side of the open door facing outward for up to 30 seconds before jumping. If you exit early, or fall out, you will be landing in trees." - "In the event you find yourself floating toward another parachute, pull down on your risers (ropes running from your harness to your canopy) to steer away." - "If you are unsuccessful at moving away and you find yourself above another canopy, your ‘chute may collapse due to lack of air from the one below causing you to land on top of it. Double-time off that canopy quickly to allow your parachute to reinflate, thus depositing you safely on the ground. Remember you have seconds to react." - "There is a stream that meanders through the middle of the drop zone. If, by chance, you see that you will be landing in the stream, begin double-timing out of that stream as soon as your feet touch water. The stream is heavily populated with water moccasins and cottonmouth snakes." - Finally, you are required to make five jumps and the first four landings safely in order to graduate. If your fifth landing is not successful, they will pin your wings on your chest where you lay. As I mentioned, military parachuting is much different than civilian parachuting. The military uses smaller, round canopies designed to put a soldier on the ground as quickly as possible, thus lessening the chances of being shot in a combat situation. The faster descent is why we practiced PLF landings ad nauseum to avoid injuries. We didn’t train for free-fall jumps. We jumped using static lines, which means our parachute automatically deployed when we exited the plane, hopefully error-proofing the process. Jumping from a height of 1250 feet, we would be in the air from 30 seconds to a minute. Longer times were a bonus courtesy of thermal updrafts, something I was not lucky enough to experience. “Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door” was a phrase we heard once, or twice … or a hundred times during training. Nowhere is this more appropriate than packed in a plane awaiting your turn to exit. Our plane would be going at 130 to 150 miles per hour when we jumped requiring both a sense of urgency when exiting and a need for good form. And then we were free. If you were able to overcome your natural tendency to close your eyes when you jumped (euphemistically called a ‘night jump’), you were treated to an awesome view of the aircraft leaving you in a huge arc as the prop or jet blasts caught your parachute as it opened pushing you away from the plane. Despite how fast we exited the plane, its speed was often enough to provide adequate separation between the canopies that now dotted the sky. For the next 20 seconds or so, you were alone in the world, floating to earth with a breeze in your face and a feeling of calm like you’ve never known. After that all-to-brief feeling of serenity, you find the ground rushing toward you quicker than you thought. Almost before you know it, your feet touched the ground, and you executed the perfect PLF for which you’ve trained so often. You laid on the ground for a few moments, thanking God you’re okay, while a small part of your mind told you that you’d just done the dumbest thing of your life. Then you got up, gathered your gear in your arms and began double-timing off the drop zone following your fellow cadets. I remember wondering if they were going in the right direction. After returning to our barracks, we all celebrated the day’s events with the only alcohol available—cans of 3.2 beer. The next day we again ran our mile, got our gear and tempted fate once more. We had four more jumps to make, actually making five jumps in four days. Second … third … fourth … I was beginning to think of these jumps as routine. Then Thursday afternoon, our fifth and final jump occurred. I was dealt an unexpected turn. As luck would have it, my jump was to be made from a C-141. Remember the -141 had jet engine. AND, I was to be first out. Jumping from a plane with a jet engine had a twist—when the door opened, a baffled wall about the size of the door opening deployed to deflect the wash from the engine. Without the baffle, I would likely be slammed into the plane’s fuselage before clearing the tail. And since I was first in line and standing in the door awaiting the Go command, I wondered if I’d be able to let go of the frame on which I had a death grip. Suddenly it occurred to me why we had to jump out 36 inches! So much to remember…. “GO!” My reflexes took over and I was free once again. After landing, I jumped up and took stock of all body parts. I began whooping and hollering—I had done it! Graduation was Friday morning, though a bit anti-climactic. The pomp and circumstance didn’t meet with the intensity of the previous three weeks. Frankly, Everett and I were anxious to begin the 2000 mile trek home. During one of the weekends, we were able to go shopping at the PX (Post Exchange). I had picked up the initial release of a Marshall Tucker Band. Somehow on the trip home, that record had been moved to the back window shelf, the sun turning it into a shallow bowl. To this day, I still have that album. Nope, can’t tell you why I kept it. But a penny on the turntable needle played the album perfectly. Also, on the way home, another thought occurred to me. Until Airborne School, I’d never even been in a plane. During this course, I had taken off in five planes and made five parachute jumps. It turns out that I would not actually land in a plane until I flew to West Germany to my initial posting with the 12th Engineer Battalion some four years later. Airborne School was definitely an experience to remember. I would never jump out of a plane again. But, I have to say it was an adventure I would always cherish. Thanks for joining me on this memory. |
Part 2 Week 1: Ground Week. Ground Week was aptly named as we spent an inordinate amount of time in touch with the ground. That first week was designed to ensure everyone was in shape to endure what was to come. Thankfully, our time in Virginia Beach had helped our northern bodies acclimate (a little) to the Ft. Benning heat. Whenever someone messed up, everyone dropped to do 25 push-ups. I stopped counting the number of push-ups I did by lunchtime. But, I’d swear I was doing between 500 and 1000 push-ups daily. Runs were not done for speed; we ran as a unit, shuffling along at about a 12-minute mile. The Black Hats required all cadets to finish as a unit. The training site had make-shift showers to cool the unit when the Black Hats deemed it necessary. Almost every afternoon at about 1:30, a summer shower lasting ten minutes or so would halt training. Training resumed immediately after the storm with our clothes drying quickly from the heat. Because of the heat, we wore fatigue uniforms without the long-sleeved top. One of my first purchases was sunscreen. In addition to PT, we learned the basic skills preparing us to jump with a parachute and land safely. The Army needs its soldiers to get from plane to ground safely and as fast as possible. You didn’t want to be floating down gracefully with people shooting at you. Exiting the plane while avoiding tangled lines was as important as landing properly. Day two introduced us to the 34 ft. Tower where we learned how to exit an aircraft and perform a proper PLF (parachute landing fall). To learn the exit technique, we wore a harness (two cabled tether lines attached to two large buckles that rested gently against our chest just above our nipples). The harness was attached to a static wire line that extended about 50 yards from the tower on a slight decline on which we traversed after jumping from the tower. Remember those buckles—they’ll play an infamous part in this story soon. Standing in the door at the top of the tower, strapped to the static line, a Black Hat yelled, “jump up six inches and out 36 inches,” which I did with great gusto keeping my arms tight against my body and my legs together. Keeping tight was critical when jumping to ensure the risers didn’t get tangled from the prop or jet wash from the engines. Dropping about ten feet, the tether lines stopped my drop with an audible ‘snap’ sending a sharp pain through me as the buckles slapped against my t-shirt clad body. Wincing in pain from those buckles, I rode that line dangling and bobbing essentially mimicking the parachute at the mercy of wind currents, until I was caught by a guy at the end of the line who set me firmly on the ground. I had about ten seconds to unhook from the line before the next guy on the line would collide with me. The Black Hats had a lot of folks to exit those towers; we exited that door at a rate of one person every two seconds on each of five lines. Messing up was not an option; the pressure was on. The other aspect of tower training was execution of the PLF, which was impressed upon us until our feet touched the ground and instinct took over. We jumped from the tower, still harnessed, landing on plowed ground below. While I appreciated the softer ground, it was more difficult to include all five points of the PLF. Those points are: 1 – balls of feet 2 – side of the calf 3 – side of the thigh 4 – side of the hip, or buttocks 5 – side of the back … rolling your body through each point in the span of one to two seconds. By the end of the first day of 34-ft Tower training, each of us had two significant bruises where those buckles hit us every time we jumped. I jumped from that tower no fewer than a dozen times a day over the next four days. I felt like those bruises were visible on my back. I couldn’t decide if I was better off that I had less weight at 120 pounds to drop, or that I was not better off because I didn’t have enough meat on me to cushion those buckles. I still had those bruises when I returned home. The pain each time we had to jump from the tower was not conducive to maintaining proper form. We tended to get a little sloppy toward the end of the week. But, we had to pass all requirements before being allowed to move to the next week of training. I honestly think the instructors gave us great latitude in this area. Here are some interesting statistics to bear in mind. The gear we wore when jumping weighes 60 to 70lbs. The average descent of a body with deployed canopy is about 22 to 24 feet per second. A jumper hits the ground at a speed of 13 miles per hour. (Consider running a 4.5 minute per mile speed into a wall to understand why a PLF is essential.) Saturday and Sunday were rest days. We did laundry, a necessary evil, and those of us who had not time to get a haircut, hit the Barber shop. I got my haircut that first evening. Those who didn’t, were given extra push-ups until they did. This was the one infraction that didn’t foster extra push-ups for everyone. One haircut type available—a buzz cut. Having light colored hair, I looked bald. But with the heat, the humidity and all the gear we wore, I learned to embrace the look. Oh, and the weekends were our time to be able to taste our food. During the week, we were given five minutes for breakfast and lunch to get AND eat each meal. Tough luck if you didn’t finish. The Black Hats were there to kick you off your bench. If they announced be in formation in two minutes, you’d better be in formation. Doing one hundred push-ups after eating that quickly was not a happy occurrence. Funny story: the class right behind ours was coming in from West Point. They’d been given special dispensation from their Commander that they didn’t need to get haircuts. ‘Okay,’ said the Black Hats. ‘No problem.’ We heard through the grapevine that they did three times as many push-ups that first day than we did. Every one of those cadets was lined up around the block at the Barber shop that evening. Most of us continued to do PT over the weekend … just to keep the edge on. Airborne classes often overlapped so we had a small idea of what awaited us in Tower Week. Week 2: Tower Week. Now we would get to experience an actual landing while attached to a parachute. The 250 ft. tower had four arms at the top oriented north, south, east and wet. Each arm would hoist one cadet strapped beneath a real canopy 250 feet in the air and dropped for a 15-second float to the ground, where he would hopefully execute a perfect PLF under the watchful eye of the Black Hats. The very nature of preparing the cadet for this apparatus was labor intensive, requiring up to ten personnel to ensure each cadet was properly strapped in. Also, weather conditions played an important part. Obviously, being 250 feet in the air on a metal tower was not a fun place when a storm popped up unexpectedly. Our class had one poor cadet ready to be released when some high winds blew through. He hung there for almost 30 minutes being buffeted by the winds, unable to be released as no one knew if the winds would blow the canopy into the tower. He was pretty shaken when he got down. We never found out if anyone got nicked for missing the weather report. All told, I made five ‘jumps’ from the 250-foot tower. Our time for the rest of the week consisted of more PT and 34 ft. tower training. You can find YouTube videos online of soldiers using the 34 ft. and 250 ft. towers. Come back tomorrow for Part 3: I must have survived. Right? |
Part 1 Notes ▼ It was the summer of 1974, and my last final of my sophomore year was finished on Friday, 10 May. I had two weeks to prepare for my journey south. Fellow ROTC cadet, Everett, and I were driving approximately 2000 miles from Orono, Maine, to Ft Benning, Georgia to attend the U.S. Army’s Airborne School. Our class would begin on Monday, 27 May; we had to sign in the day prior. Yep, I was gonna jump out of airplanes! After all, I was 19 years old and invincible. Everett’s sister lived in Virginia Beach about two blocks away from the ocean. We planned to stay three or four days with her family, enjoying some fun on sand and surf. It was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. The average temperature of the ocean in Maine was 20-plus degrees colder than Virginia; forty-five degrees was not inviting. And, because Airborne School was three weeks long, attending it messed with our summer work schedules. We’d only be able to find part-time work in July and August when we returned. Having a little fun before school was the order of the day. Getting to Virginia Beach as fast as possible was our mission. We were fired up and ready for our adventure. Arriving about midnight, we quickly crashed in the beds provided—we had driven about 15 hours straight. Twelve hours later, after showering and eating lunch, we were ready for the beach. Grabbing our towels, we rushed outside … and came to an abrupt halt. We felt like we’d run into a wall. In point of fact, we had. Virginia’s heat and humidity snapped their proverbial fingers at us, and we returned to the welcome embrace of central air-conditioning. It was nearer 7 pm before we managed to get to the beach. This visit proved to be the best four days of our trip. Actual preparations for Airborne School began at the start of our Spring semester. Since that school was particularly demanding physically, our ROTC department set up a regular schedule of physical training (PT) to be held before our classes. Our cadre was not taking such attendance lightly. Cadets who attended Airborne School, Summer Camp, or Ranger School would not wash out because they were in poor shape. Three times a week during the semester, cadets attending any of those schools would meet at 6 am for PT. We did calisthenics, especially push-ups and sit-ups, finishing with a two-to-three-mile run. Toward the end of the semester, PT became more rigorous with increased reps of exercises and a final run of eight miles. And, we had to pass the Army’s PT Test with an 80% grade versus the 60% needed to just pass. And yet, we discovered we still weren’t ready for the level of PT the Black Hats (NCO Drill Instructors) at Airborne School heaped upon us. Our first test was to do 100 push-ups in two minutes (the usual PT Test maximum was 71 in two minutes). Failure to do 100 in the time allotted resulted in a one-mile run. I ran that mile. I estimated I did close to 750 push-ups that first day. Airborne School was three weeks long with the first week crammed with more push-ups, sit-ups and running than I’d done in my entire year of ROTC. Our training class was all ROTC cadets from various universities. Each week had rather innocuous names that told us exactly what we’d be doing: The first was Ground Week; next was Tower Week; the final week was Jump Week. Come back tomorrow for Part 2: Ground Week |
| I have long wanted to write down the chapters (to use a writing term) of my life. Some aspects of my life have been regrets. But I think many have been victories. There are stories I want to tell my kids. If others find anything I write interesting, I'll mark that in the win column. I certainly have enough ideas collected along life's journey. My biggest problem is organizing them. One would think the order of one's life would be the obvious solution. But dang if my ideas, memories and thoughts don't come in a jumble. Hence the myriad of notes and scraps of paper. (Oh, and I looked up the use of 'myriad.' I could have said "myriad notes ..." but it just sounds awkward that way.) Basically, my dilemma of what to write boils down to "so many topics, too little time." But I'm retired, I tell myself. Perhaps I should tell my wife that. I have to wonder why there are so many things that need doing around the house now, that weren't important when I was working. Still, I suppose taking care of some task every now and then, gives my back a break from sitting at the laptop for hours on end. Where was I? Oh yeah, some years back I went through a phase of buying a book about some aspect of writing each time I visited Barnes & Noble. Two such books were The Complete Idiot's Guide to Writing a Memoir by Victoria Costello (of course), and Life Writing by Fred D. White. The latter has been very helpful. About three weeks ago I decided to write about my experience attending the US Army's Airborne School while in ROTC in college. That event occurred 51 years ago, and as I began jotting notes about some facet of that experience, I was amazed what I remembered, including some funny stories that I didn't find particularly humorous at the time. I figured I'd pen a story about 1000 to 1200 words, something that might interest my kids and grandkids. I completed that story yesterday. Even editing it vigorously (I thought), I still wound up with 3400 words. I decided to post it in my blog in three parts beginning tomorrow; after all, what's a blog for? |
| C'mon, Missouri. This is still summer. It should not be 51 degrees ... yet. I had to put on a long-sleeve shirt for my morning walk. I guess I've had it easy over the past four-plus months. I've been able to leave the house and walk on any of four or five routes, depending on how far I wanted to walk that day. The cooler temps this morning prompted some though about continuing my walks when the cold really hits. Some years back before I injured my leg, I used to run every afternoon after work, especially in the heat of summer. Winter? Not so much. Growing up in Maine taught me when to come in out of the cold. Our local civic center has an indoor track that I used occasionally in the past. Looks like that will be my go-to place in colder weather. It'll be a bit inconvenient since I'll have to drive there and back. I just hope my will to continue this exercise regimen I've built up these past months overcomes my strong tendency to procrastinate. |
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