Notice: Function _load_textdomain_just_in_time was called incorrectly. Translation loading for the twentyfifteen domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /chroot/home/a6f7779a/9d7429a5d9.nxcli.io/html/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6170 {"id":627,"date":"2016-06-18T15:56:01","date_gmt":"2016-06-18T20:56:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/frankdeleon.com\/?p=627"},"modified":"2016-06-18T15:56:01","modified_gmt":"2016-06-18T20:56:01","slug":"slowly-sliding-into-the-abyss","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/frankdeleon.com\/?p=627","title":{"rendered":"Slowly Sliding Into the Abyss"},"content":{"rendered":"

Slowly Sliding Into the Abyss<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

1962-1963<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Too Young, Too Soon, And Unspoken Words<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

The east and west bound traffic on Winnemucca\u2019s Main Street, otherwise known as US 40 in those days, was brisk that weekend morning in early October of 1962.\u00a0 A cold crisp breeze, having first tumbled over the snowcapped tops of Nevada\u2019s Santa Rosa Range, then lazily rolled over the drowsy little city, was now whispering up and over the prominently-located Chevron gas station where I sat in the office nursing a warm cup of rapidly cooling cocoa.\u00a0 It was 9 am, my first of three days working at the eight-pump, two-bay, full-service gas station, after having worked nine grueling back-to-back rotating shifts as a U.S. Air Force radar operator on top of Winnemucca Mountain.<\/p>\n

As I raised the heavy ceramic mug to my lips, I noticed that my hand was trembling ever so slightly.\u00a0 The shiver seemed to be originating deep in my chest\u2014traveling through my shoulders and down into my arms and hands.\u00a0 I looked at my arm and saw the skin peppered with little goose bumps. The little electric space heater under the steel desk wasn\u2019t doing a very good job of keeping the drafty office warm.<\/p>\n

I took a short sip and thought that my military issue olive drab wool sweater would\u2019ve come in handy this chilly morning worn over the light-blue short-sleeved Chevron work shirt that I\u2019d neatly tucked into my stiff blue jeans.\u00a0 But putting the mug down next to the cash register, I recalled seeing Sharon get up in the middle of the night to answer Ricky\u2019s colicky cries then returning a bit later wearing my sweater.\u00a0 Because of the high cost of heating oil, we usually turned off the furnace when we went to bed every evening, and left it off until well after sunrise.<\/p>\n

As I was leaving for work that morning I saw that Sharon had taken Ricky out of his bassinet and brought him into bed with her, tucking him close to her breast.\u00a0 As I eased out of the bedroom. I saw that they were curled up, sleeping soundly\u2014both of them tightly wrapped in my olive drab sweater.<\/p>\n

The station\u2019s hydraulic bell rang loudly, shocking me out of my daydream and calling my attention to a couple of cars that had peeled off Main Street\u2019s endless stream of traffic and were now rumbling up the drive and stopping at two of our four fueling islands.<\/p>\n

Isn\u2019t that the way it always is?\u00a0 <\/em>I thought, putting the mug down and sliding off the high backless stool I\u2019d been perched on.\u00a0 They always seemed to come in pairs or in packs, but never just one car.\u00a0 <\/em>I braced myself for the blast of cold air as I pushed open the door and sprinted out to wait on my first customers of the day.<\/p>\n

Since Phil Egosque\u2019s gas station was full service, I was expected to not only fuel up the cars but check all the fluid levels\u2014oil, radiator, windshield washer\u2014then Windex down every window (not just the windshield) on each car.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd if you\u2019ve got the time,\u201d Phil had instructed me my first day on the job, \u201cask the customer to open the trunk so you can check the air pressure in their spare.\u00a0 Service like that\u2019ll keep them coming back, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

I always made sure that I never had time for that\u2014unless the customer specifically asked, or if Phil just happened to be at the station balancing the books.<\/p>\n

About fifteen minutes later, after the last car had pulled back into traffic, I eased back in to the office and drained the final dregs of my now cold cocoa.\u00a0 The short burst of activity while waiting on the two cars had actually warmed me up a bit and I now felt comfortable as I resumed my vigil on top of the stool.<\/p>\n

Glancing over to the station\u2019s two-car maintenance bay through the glass-topped side door I noticed that sometime during my shift I would have to restock a couple of the oil can shelves.\u00a0 Always something to do.\u00a0 <\/em>I said to myself.\u00a0 Restocking or wiping down shelves or sweeping out and mopping the office or, (ugh) cleaning out the rest rooms.\u00a0 <\/em>I groaned softly as I visualized the condition they\u2019d be in later on that day.<\/p>\n

Before working at this gas station no one could have convinced me that women\u2019s bathrooms at gas stations had to be the filthiest things existing on God\u2019s green earth.<\/p>\n

Oh sure, men would sometimes pee, and in their haste occasionally miss the entire urinal or toilet bowl; or at times they\u2019d leave the disgusting remains of the greasy meals they\u2019d hurriedly swallowed and digested while on the road\u2014then leaving the floating heap decorously topped with humongous piles of feces-smeared tissue paper for me to flush away for them.<\/p>\n

But women!\u00a0 Well now, that was a completely different matter!<\/p>\n

Discarded tampons: that was a subject in a class all by itself!\u00a0 I would find them strewn willy-nilly all over the floor; around, but never in, the chrome trash can that was uselessly labeled \u2018Sanitary Napkins and Tampons Here Please!\u2019; in the hand basin; or gaily hung on the edges of the mirror; but most times firmly clogged in the commode causing it to overflow all over the floor.<\/p>\n

While men sometimes missed the mark when they urinated, women seemed to have great difficulty hitting the large porcelain bowl when they defecated.\u00a0 Feces on the wooden seat, on the edge of the bowl and sometimes on the floor.\u00a0 And I can\u2019t remember how many pairs of soiled panties I found, and had to dispose of, during the months of my employ at the station.<\/p>\n

It was disgusting.<\/p>\n

I complained endlessly to Phil, but he would just smile and ask me who I thought had cleaned the place before I was hired.<\/p>\n

Between my two jobs I was left with precious few hours at home, and as a result Sharon and I ended up being apart much more often than we were together.\u00a0 And Ricky, not a very healthy baby from the get go, suffered from extreme bouts of colic, endless rounds of head colds; and probably because we were not very experienced parents, a persistently severe case of diaper rash.<\/p>\n

For the first two or three months after his birth, it seemed that the poor child cried non-stop; when he finally did quiet down it was because he\u2019d all but passed out from sheer exhaustion.<\/p>\n

During those few respites Sharon and I would end up so physically and mentally drained that we\u2019d just sit and cherish the quiet.\u00a0 Then before long, Ricky would come to and it would start all over again.<\/p>\n

Although I thought I had it rough because of my having to work almost seven days a week at my two jobs, it was Sharon who really carried the heaviest burden.\u00a0 Confined to the house for most of the day tending to the baby, the only breaks she got were spent running errands to the grocery store, the Laundromat, or the drugstore to buy medications.\u00a0 And then, because she had no other choice, she was forced to take our fussy baby along, as a result making her short outings less than pleasurable.<\/p>\n

That morning at the gas station, while waiting for the inevitable flood of gas-hungry customers to come pouring in, I began to think and take stock of the horrific situation Sharon and I presently found ourselves in.\u00a0 Here we were, two young and inexperienced people, with no inkling of what life was all about, burdened with bills, very little money, an infant, and very little hope for any kind of successful future.<\/p>\n

Sitting in the quiet little office, I looked out at the mountains and the endless crystal blue sky and tried to grasp the jumble of circumstances that had culminated in our disastrous situation.<\/p>\n

Panic\u2019s cold hand grabbed the pit of my stomach as I tried to envision our lives two or three years into the future.\u00a0 Where would we be?\u00a0 How could we possibly ever have a better life?<\/p>\n

Even without finding answers to all my questions, I knew one thing for sure.\u00a0 We were doing nothing more than existing day to day\u2014and not doing a very good job of it at that.\u00a0 But even more frustrating to me was that I realized I had no clue as to what I needed to do to provide a life worth living for my new wife and my child.\u00a0 My panic gave way to a deepening sense of sorrow and my mood turned sullen.\u00a0 I was hopelessly frightened and sad and needed some help.<\/p>\n

Maybe we can talk about this, <\/em>I thought.\u00a0 Maybe she has some ideas about what we need to be doing to make things better for us.\u00a0 <\/em>I made up my mind to ask her tonight when I got home from work.<\/p>\n

Then, the hydraulic bell rang.<\/p>\n

That evening, after a lean dinner of canned spaghetti and fruit cocktail, and after finally putting little Ricky to sleep, I asked Sharon to join me in the kitchen for a talk.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you want to get some sleep?\u201d\u00a0 She whispered, a look of surprise on her face as she quietly closed the bedroom door behind her.\u00a0 \u201cYou look really tired, and don\u2019t you have to open the station early tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I do, but I think it\u2019s important we talk over a few things.\u201d\u00a0 She paused slightly, and quietly said, \u201cOK\u201d.<\/p>\n

I pulled the two chairs out from under the table for us to sit on, and I thought to myself that this would be the first time that we\u2019d ever really discussed anything of substance.<\/p>\n

She sat down hurriedly and crossed her arms on the plastic topped table, eyeing me apprehensively.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t really know how to start, and as I struggled for the right words to begin our talk, she quickly asked, \u201cAm I doing something wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d I said, a little rattled, but mostly surprised at the question.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d she looked down and began to fiddle with her nails, \u201cI\u2026well\u2026I kinda know what you\u2019re going to say\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do?\u201d I asked incredulously, \u201cwhat do you think I\u2019m going to say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, you know\u2026that I\u2019m\u2026\u201d a little shudder passed through her body as if a cold wind had suddenly hit her.\u00a0 \u201c\u2026that you\u2019re sorry we had to get married\u2026because…you know, I\u2019m\u2026not a good wife\u2026and\u2026not\u2026not\u2026 (choke) \u2026really a good mother\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Before I could say anything, her hands flew up to her face and she hurriedly removed her little cat\u2019s eye glasses.\u00a0 Big tears rolled down her cheeks and she hastened to wipe them away, sighing deeply and quickly looking away.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Sharon\u2026no\u2026\u201d I mumbled, reaching out to touch her hand.\u00a0 \u201cNo, that\u2019s not what I had in mind at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

She turned her face back and slowly withdrew her hand from mine.\u00a0 \u201cWell\u2026see\u2026the baby\u2026Ricky\u2026,\u201d she was now beginning to cry heavily and was having difficulty getting her words out; and as much as I wanted to say something soothing, I just couldn\u2019t find the words.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026the baby\u2026, she continued, \u201che\u2019s always so, so sick\u2026and\u2026oh\u2026um\u2026I know it\u2019s because\u2026because\u2026I\u2019m just no good\u2026as a mom\u2014I know I\u2019m not.\u00a0 And, then\u2026as a wife\u2026well\u2026 (sob)\u2026God\u2026I never learned to\u2026cook\u2026and\u2026oh God, I\u2019m so terrible!\u201d<\/p>\n

Those last words burst painfully out, then she put her head down into her crossed arms on the table, and cried deeply and bitterly.<\/p>\n

I felt so helpless, useless\u2014watching her all but implode in front of my eyes.\u00a0 My throat locked up and a painful swell of emotion rolled up my chest.\u00a0 My eyes stung.<\/p>\n

I found myself reaching out and softly stroking the top of her head, not knowing what else to do. I put my arm around her shaking shoulders and whispered softly that I knew she was doing all she could.<\/p>\n

Her head slowly came up, and she looked at me with red, tear-swollen eyes.\u00a0 As her grief and sorrow pulled her mouth into a tight grimace she said, in a breaking high-pitched voice, \u201cOh, Frank!\u00a0 I really want to be such good mom to the baby\u2026and, a good wife to you.\u00a0 And, God\u2026I see you working so, so, hard all the time.\u00a0 But, as much as I love you and the baby\u2026I just don\u2019t know how\u2026how\u2026to do this\u2026any of this\u2026at all\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

I felt her pain, and her love, and realized at that moment that I too loved her and the baby, very much.<\/p>\n

Holding back my own tears, I held her tightly and whispered in her ear, \u201cIt\u2019s OK, my love.\u00a0 You\u2019re doing OK, and I know you\u2019re doing everything you can to make this work.\u00a0 And look, regardless of what it may look like I think we\u2019re really doing OK.\u201d\u00a0 Then, looking into her eyes, I said, \u201cAnd\u2026Sharon\u2026I love you too.\u00a0 So, how can we not be doing OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh Frank.\u201d she whimpered, \u201cYou\u2019re so sweet and you really are a good husband.\u00a0 I\u2019m sorry I\u2019m such a mess.\u201d<\/p>\n

I helped her up from the table.\u00a0 \u201cCome on, let\u2019s go to bed and get some sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n

She walked over to the sink and pulled a paper towel off the roll to wipe her eyes.\u00a0 \u201cDid you want to talk to me about something else?\u201d She said, looking up at me, her bottom lip quivering.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d I said.\u00a0 \u201cWe\u2019re both doing the very best we can.\u00a0 And, I\u2019m not unhappy with you or the baby.\u00a0 Let\u2019s forget about this and just keep going forward.\u201d<\/p>\n

As I recall that evening, I realize that it was the first time ever in our relationship that we\u2019d ever expressed real feelings for each other.\u00a0 Sadly, it would be a very long time before either of us would ever express those feelings again.<\/p>\n

Frank and Sharon Go On Vacation<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

No matter how hard we tried or how much we wished, things didn\u2019t get much better for us in the next few months.\u00a0 Luckily, the winter of 1962 was a rather mild one, with only a few light to moderate snowfalls, and one memorable ice storm.<\/p>\n

With Alberta and Sharon now married and not living at home, (Roberta, the oldest sister had been married a few years already and was living with her husband in Redwood, California), Pat decided that this would be as good a time as any to pull up stakes and move away.<\/p>\n

During one of our very few conversations, Pat had mentioned wanting to \u201cgo back\u201d to Reno, where she\u2019d apparently spent some time during her younger years.\u00a0 With a good recommendation from the small casino in Winnemucca where she was working as a dealer, she landed a good job at one of the better known casinos in downtown Reno.<\/p>\n

After returning from one of her several house-hunting trips, Pat stopped by our house and told us she had decided to buy a trailer home located on the outskirts of the city.\u00a0 She seemed very upbeat, and spoke excitedly about finally being able to move out of Winnemucca and settle down in a \u201creal city\u201d.<\/p>\n

A few weeks after she moved out of her house and headed west, we heard from Alberta that Pat had invited all of us to visit her in her new digs\u2014and she was even willing to front us some money for a little dinner and entertainment at her casino.\u00a0 Although the trailer she\u2019d bought was not a double-wide, she assured Alberta that there\u2019d be plenty of room if we decided to come for a visit.<\/p>\n

\u201cBernie and I can\u2019t get off work to go,\u201d Alberta told us when she visited and gave us the news, \u201cbut if you and Sharon want, I can watch the baby for a weekend and you guys can go.\u201d<\/p>\n

Since my Air Force work schedule days off had rotated to Friday, Saturday and Sunday, all I needed to do was to get Phil to agree to let me off that weekend, and we were on our way.\u00a0 He was not that happy about my request, but I finally convinced him that Sharon and I really needed the time off.<\/p>\n

So on a gray Friday morning Sharon and I made our final preparations for the one-hundred and sixty-mile drive to Reno.\u00a0 We had dropped Ricky off at Alberta\u2019s the night before and turned in early to get enough rest for the trip that morning.<\/p>\n

As luck would have it, during the nighttime hours Winnemucca experienced a bout of freezing rain, and by the time we were ready to start our drive west a heavy snow began to fall.\u00a0 Not to be deterred, I made sure we had a couple of gallons of anti-freeze stored in the trunk of our ancient 1949 Chevy in the event the radiator decided to spring an old recurring leak, and brought along pair of old fuzzy blankets in case our car heater conked out.<\/p>\n

At about 8 am, we pulled out of our driveway and turned onto westbound US 40, for the four hour drive to Reno.\u00a0 Because of our excitement about the trip, (and possibly our lack of maturity and\/or experience), neither of us took into consideration several potentially disastrous factors: the mismatched tires on our car were barely roadworthy, with only minimal tread showing; we did not have, nor did we own, a set of tire chains for us to use in the event the mountainous roads near Reno might be snowed in or iced over; the windshield wipers worked very slowly when they worked at all; and perhaps the most important factor of all\u2014because I was born and raised in Houston, I had never driven on ice or snow.<\/p>\n

Nevertheless, balancing a hot mug of cocoa between my legs and experiencing a giddy sense of euphoria, we headed out, radio blaring\u2014two kids, alone together for the first time in months, setting out on a great adventure.\u00a0 What could possibly go wrong?<\/p>\n

About ten miles west of Winnemucca the snow began to fall in earnest.\u00a0 Since US 40 was a winding, heavily-traveled two-lane road, on a good day, as soon as we left the city limits (not too far west of Winnemucca) we got pretty much stuck behind an endless line of cars and heavy semis, undoubtedly caused by the underlying ice and rapidly-drifting snow.\u00a0 The heavy slow-moving traffic actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise because it had worn two well-defined ruts in the snow and ice, and we were able to follow these without experiencing any significant traction issues.<\/p>\n

The trouble started when my patience finally ran out.\u00a0 After driving between twenty and thirty miles an hour, stuck behind a large truck for about ninety minutes, I decided that enough was enough.<\/p>\n

Sharon had long since given up trying to look out through her side of the ice-covered windshield and had curled up with one of the fuzzy blankets to take a nap.\u00a0 The radio station had faded out a few miles west of town and now all I could get was a bunch of static.\u00a0 This, unbeknownst by me at that time, was probably caused by the heavy ice buildup on the radio\u2019s antenna.<\/p>\n

Seeing a fairly long break in the line of oncoming traffic I decided to employ one of my famous Houston-approved passing techniques.\u00a0 Pumping the clutch, I jammed the shifter down to second gear and floored the accelerator while twisting the steering wheel hard to the left.\u00a0 This tried and true passing technique would usually slingshot me quickly around the offending vehicle\u2014and even afford me the opportunity to give the pokey truck driver a shot of that withering DeLe\u00f3n glare as I roared past.<\/p>\n

Nothing even close to that actually happened.<\/p>\n

Instead of zooming triumphantly by, the old Chevy decided to perform a ragged three-hundred and sixty-degree spin to the left\u2014while, to my astonishment, still remaining steadfastly planted in my lane behind the truck.<\/p>\n

This violent herky-jerky maneuver sent an unprepared Sharon flying headfirst into her door, the force of her body causing it to partially unlock and open.\u00a0 Her hysterical scream totally distracted me from the very important task of keeping my hands on the steering wheel.\u00a0 Instead, I instinctively reached for her\u2014with both hands.<\/p>\n

All I succeeded in doing was grabbing a handful of fuzzy blanket and some of Sharon\u2019s hair; all the while the car decided to execute another graceful three-hundred and sixty-degree turn, plus or minus a few degrees.<\/p>\n

At this point I thought it best to let nature take its course and I pulled my still-screaming wife close to me and hugged her tight.\u00a0 Since we had no seat belts we both slid along the bench seat, one way then the other, finally propelling headlong in the direction of the partially-open door.\u00a0 In my terror I recall observing a panoramic-like view of snow, grass, and mud flashing through the gap in the door.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t think I screamed, but I may have.<\/p>\n

Coming out of its second full circle, the car decided to continue its slide backwards\u2014leaving the truck in a position behind me, and with me now looking directly at the driver of the car that had previously been behind me.\u00a0 Before I had a chance to react, I felt the rear end of the car suddenly dip low, and after a soft thud, the car came to a leisurely and graceful stop.\u00a0 It was almost magical.<\/p>\n

I struggled to untangle myself but Sharon insisted on hanging on to me and the fuzzy blanket for all she was worth.<\/p>\n

Coming somewhat to her senses, Sharon yelled, directly into my right ear, \u201cMY GOD, FRANK!\u00a0 DID WE HIT SOMEBODY?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I don\u2019t think we did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJESUS, WHAT HAPPENED?!\u201d My right ear began to ring.<\/p>\n

\u201cSharon, if you let me go I can get out and see if there\u2019s any damage to the car.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAM I BLEEDING?\u201d<\/p>\n

I quickly assessed her wild-eye face, \u201cNo sweetie, you\u2019re not bleeding. \u00a0Now let me go.\u00a0 I see the man from the truck I was trying to pass coming this way.\u201d<\/p>\n

She relaxed her death grip and I made an attempt to get back to my side of the seat.<\/p>\n

\u201cGOD FRANK, EVERYTHING LOOKS FUZZY!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour glasses are on the floor, honey.\u00a0 Now get them on, stop screaming, and let me get out so I can talk to the nice man.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled myself up and towards the driver\u2019s side door.\u00a0 I was amazed to note that the car\u2019s little engine was still running and the gear shift vibrating gently was in neutral.<\/p>\n

I pushed the door open with my foot and tried to step out.\u00a0 A rather pudgy mustachioed man wearing a heavy jacket and a Russian-style fur cap extended his hand to help me.\u00a0 I hopped out onto some snow-covered grass and saw that we\u2019d slid backwards into a shallow ditch that ran alongside the highway.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou OK, son?\u201d\u00a0 He said, in an accent I couldn\u2019t quite place.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I\u2019m good.\u00a0 You OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe? Sure!\u00a0 You\u2019re the one who spun out behind me.\u00a0 I just stopped to see if you were OK.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, thanks.\u00a0 No, I\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about the little girl on the floor?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked back to see Sharon scrambling around trying to find her glasses.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, she\u2019s OK.\u00a0 That\u2019s my wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut she\u2019s on the floor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s looking for her glasses.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

I walked around the back of the car to see if I\u2019d done any damage to the rear bumper.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t look like you did anything to it.\u201d Moustache-man said.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, it doesn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe need to pull you out pretty quick, your exhaust pipe is buried in the dirt.\u00a0 Wait a minute, I think I got a chain in the truck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d I said, waving him back, \u201clet me try to drive it out first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t drive it out on this incline.\u00a0 You\u2019ll do nothing but spin the wheels and dig yourself in.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pulled open the front door and started to get back in.\u00a0 \u201cLet me try.\u00a0 If this doesn\u2019t work then you can pull me out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d he said, disapprovingly, \u201cbut you\u2019re wasting your time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d Sharon asked, her glasses a little off center.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u00a0 I\u2019m gonna try to drive us out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, OK.\u201d\u00a0 She pulled her glasses off, and while squinting, twisted the temples to try to get them straight and bent back to normal.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou OK now?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I just couldn\u2019t see anything and I bumped my head on the door handle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, let me try to get us out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I depressed the clutch and pulled the shifter into first gear.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt would work better if you use second gear instead of first!\u201d\u00a0 The man yell, observing from the top of the ditch.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK.\u201d\u00a0 I said, and left it in first gear.<\/p>\n

Gunning the engine, I slowly engaged the clutch, and to my complete surprise, the car began to move slowly up and toward the road.\u00a0 I followed the ruts I\u2019d made going into the ditch and the tires held their traction.\u00a0 In a few seconds we were out and up on the shoulder.<\/p>\n

I looked in the rear view mirror as I pulled away and saw that the man had removed his fur hat and was scratching his head.\u00a0 He wasn\u2019t the only one who was surprised.\u00a0 I waved.<\/p>\n

The traffic behind me in my lane had come to a dead stop, and the traffic in the opposite lane had slowed to no more than a crawl.\u00a0 I rolled my window down and waved my left arm at the traffic to make a hole.\u00a0 They did, and I smoothly merged back into the westbound lane.\u00a0 Accelerating through the gears I saw that I had a clear view ahead of me\u2014all the traffic in front of the truck now long gone.<\/p>\n

Settling in, I took one last look back and I was pleased to see that in spite of my spin into the ditch, I was now well in front of the truck that I had unsuccessfully tried to pass, and there was no traffic in front of me.\u00a0 It was still snowing, but the ruts worn in the snow helped me stay relatively stable.<\/p>\n

The rest of the trip was uneventful if not painfully slow.\u00a0 The further west we traveled, the lighter the snowfall became, and eventually I caught up with the bumper-to-bumper traffic.\u00a0 Now careful not to lose my patience, I stayed in the queue.\u00a0 The trip, which under normal circumstances would\u2019ve taken us about four hours, took well over nine hours to complete.<\/p>\n

Sharon and I were pretty much a couple of basket cases when we finally arrived at Pat\u2019s dingy little trailer.<\/p>\n

Good News & Bad News<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

It was early December and we were about to spend our first Christmas together as a family. Alberta had asked if we wanted to spend the holiday with her and Bernie, but after some discussion we decided it would be best if we just spent it by ourselves.\u00a0 Besides, neither of us really cared for Bernie that much.\u00a0 He tended to be loud and obnoxious, and always seemed to point out how he and Alberta were not planning on having any kids until they were sure they could afford to, and how he\u2019d never want to have to work two jobs, and so on.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure don\u2019t want my kids wondering where their next meal is gonna be coming from, or where Daddy is all the time, right Dinks?\u201d\u00a0 He\u2019d say in a sneering superior tone.<\/p>\n

We did, however, reluctantly accept their invitation to a small pre-Christmas dinner.\u00a0 Sharon offered to bring a homemade dessert and, a little surprised at that, I wondered what she had in mind.\u00a0 Turned out she could bake a pretty decent cake.<\/p>\n

A few days before the dinner at Alberta\u2019s I\u2019d just come home from the gas station and was getting ready to get into the shower.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to talk to you when you finish your shower, OK?\u201d\u00a0 Sharon said, a little too seriously.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d I said, \u201cwanna talk now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, go ahead and shower while I set the table.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sharon had moved Ricky\u2019s bassinette out into the main room, and for once he was quiet and seemed contented.\u00a0 I walked over and started making small talk to him. \u00a0When not in pain or sick with a cold he really was a precious little guy.\u00a0 Thin face, bald head, and big expressive eyes.\u00a0 It was easy to make him smile, and boy, could he rattle off the baby talk.<\/p>\n

\u201cFrank, could you hurry up and get finished?\u00a0 Dinner will be done soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

I hated to leave the baby because it was so seldom that he was in this kind of mood.\u00a0 But Sharon looked rushed and nervous.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, on my way.\u00a0 Bye Ricky M.\u201d\u00a0 I said, letting his hand go.\u00a0 He gurgled something, kicked his legs, and grinned his little toothless grin.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Pulling my chair out, I sat down heavily and demanded to know what was for dinner.<\/p>\n

\u201cStew.\u201d\u00a0 Sharon said, bringing the dark blue pot to the table and carefully setting it on a pot holder. \u00a0\u201cServe yourself,\u201d she ordered playfully.<\/p>\n

As I scooped out the steaming stew into my plastic bowl I asked, \u201cSo, what\u2019cha wanna talk about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, it can wait.\u00a0 Let\u2019s eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK.\u201d<\/p>\n

Throughout the meal she seemed distracted, her mind a thousand miles away.<\/p>\n

After we\u2019d finished our meal I volunteered to do the dishes.\u00a0 Sharon smiled gratefully and excused herself to go change the baby and get him ready for his night bottle.<\/p>\n

\u201cWanna talk now?\u201d I asked as I poured the leftover stew into a plastic container.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me do this first.\u00a0 By then you\u2019ll be done with the dishes, OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d\u00a0 It seemed to me that as anxious as she was to talk earlier, she was now stalling a lot.\u00a0 She quietly rolled Ricky into the darkened bedroom.<\/p>\n

I finished the dishes and sat down in the main room to catch the evening news on our little console TV.\u00a0 Sharon came out of the bedroom and proceeded to warm Ricky\u2019s bottle.\u00a0 She was quiet and pensive, staring aimlessly out the window over the sink into the cold Nevada night as the bottle warmed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou OK?\u201d\u00a0 I asked, getting a bit concerned.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yeah.\u00a0 Let me finish this, OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

She hurried back into the bedroom after squirting some formula onto her wrist and determining that it was the right temperature.<\/p>\n

About ten minutes later she came out and quietly closed the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere, I think he\u2019s down for the night.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sat down next to me, but kept staring at the TV.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK.\u201d I said, maybe a bit impatiently.\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d she said apprehensively, \u201cI went to the doctor today for my three-month checkup.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yeah, that\u2019s right.\u00a0 I\u2019d forgotten.\u00a0 Everything OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, everything is fine.\u201d\u00a0 She was still staring straight ahead.\u00a0 \u201cExcept\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She had my full attention now.\u00a0 \u201cExcept what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe confirmed what I was afraid of.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u00a0 What\u2019s wrong?\u201d\u00a0 I said, suddenly very worried that the doctor had found something seriously wrong with her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m pregnant.\u201d She blurted out.<\/p>\n

\u201cPregnant? Pregnant?\u00a0 How could you be pregnant?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sharon turned her head slowly, adjusted her glasses, and gave me a look that said, \u2018How can you ask me that?\u2019<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t sure what to say, and for a split second I expected her to burst out in a peal of laughter and say something like, \u2018Oh my God, you should see the stupid look on your face!\u00a0 I\u2019m kidding, you idiot!\u2019<\/p>\n

But, she just kept looking at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, he said you\u2019re pregnant?\u00a0 Really?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes Frank, really!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShit\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

And then we were both very quiet\u2014blindly staring at the TV\u2014neither of us knowing what else to say.<\/p>\n

A few hours after we\u2019d gone to sleep, I woke up when I sensed a little shaking movement in our bed.\u00a0 I glanced over at Sharon in the darkness and saw her petite shoulders quivering.<\/p>\n

I lay there for the next few hours listening to her softly cry her heart out.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

On a cold sunny morning in January of 1963, I pulled my old Chevy into one of the parking spaces on the base in front of the Rec Room to wait with my crew for the bus to take us to the top of the mountain for the first of my three-day shifts.<\/p>\n

My new crew chief, a technical sergeant from North Carolina, walked up to me and said, \u201cYou need to go to the commander\u2019s office.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does he want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not my business to know.\u00a0 Now get your ass in gear and report in to the commander.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, OK, sarge.\u201d\u00a0 I turned to head to the main Quonset hut where the commander had his office.\u00a0 \u201cWhat if I miss the bus to the hill?\u201d\u00a0 I asked over my shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot my problem.\u00a0 Now git!\u201d<\/p>\n

I walked through the door and headed up to the Duty Orderly\u2019s desk.\u00a0 I was trying to remember if I\u2019d done something wrong last night when I\u2019d worked the last of my three evening shifts.\u00a0 I was sure I hadn\u2019t, because if I had this new crew chief would\u2019ve gone off on me like a rabid pit bull.\u00a0 My old crew chief, Sergeant Nietzsche, had been calm and easy going, but this new guy was a loud overblown bully.<\/p>\n

I walked up to the counter.\u00a0 \u201cAirman DeLe\u00f3n reporting as ordered!\u201d I stated to the orderly.<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm, DeLe\u00f3n?\u201d He said, shuffling through a stack of papers, finally finding what he was looking for.\u00a0 \u201cOh yeah, let me announce you to the First Sergeant first.\u00a0 Wait here.\u201d\u00a0 He got up, walked over to the First Sergeant\u2019s office door and knocked loudly, once.<\/p>\n

\u201cCOME!\u201d\u00a0 Was the response, and the orderly walked stiffly into the office, closing the door behind him.<\/p>\n

In a couple of minutes later, he reappeared.\u00a0 \u201cThe First Sergeant will see you now.\u00a0 Just walk on in and present yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAirman DeLe\u00f3n, reporting as ordered, sir!\u201d\u00a0 I stood stiffly at attention, but did not salute as the First Sergeant was an enlisted man.<\/p>\n

\u201cStand at ease, airman!\u201d\u00a0 He said, without looking up from the sheaf of papers he was shuffling through.<\/p>\n

I relaxed and waited, curiosity making me tremble a bit.<\/p>\n

He finally looked up at me.\u00a0 \u201cDo you know how long you\u2019ve been here, airman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere, sir?\u00a0 Like, right now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u00a0 Here, at the Winnemucca Air Force Station!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, uh\u2026I got here June of nineteen sixty-one.\u00a0 So, let\u2019s see, that would make it about nineteen months now, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExactly!!\u00a0 Do you know what that means, airman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, no sir\u2026not really.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means that you\u2019re a month overdue for your station rotation!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStation rotation?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, airman!\u00a0 Your tour here was slated for eighteen months, and you\u2019ve now exceeded that by over 30 days!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I didn\u2019t know that.\u00a0 Sorry sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot your problem, airman!\u00a0 Probably some type of fuckup made by those idiots at the Reno headquarters!\u201d<\/p>\n

At this point my mind was running at full capacity trying to figure out what all this meant.\u00a0 I know a few of the guys I worked with, like my buddy Jay and Sergeant Nietzsche, had suddenly received orders to transfer out, and they\u2019d been gone within three to four weeks.\u00a0 But with all that had going on in my life, I really hadn\u2019t given much thought to my being rotated out.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes that mean I\u2019m being rotated out to Reno?\u201d I asked, cautiously.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yeah, you\u2019ve received orders for rotation all right, but it\u2019s not up to me to tell you where.\u00a0 That\u2019s the commander\u2019s responsibility.\u00a0 Let me go get him.\u201d<\/p>\n

He got up suddenly, and I popped to attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt ease, airman.\u00a0 I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n

I relaxed, and he left the office.\u00a0 While he was gone I started thinking about this rotation and playing the various scenarios in my mind.\u00a0 If we were to get transferred to Reno then we could live close to Pat, making Sharon maybe a little happier.\u00a0 Besides, Stead Air Force Base was large and had a lot of amenities: the Base Exchange for one, where we could shop for groceries, clothes, and lots of other stuff (think Wal-Mart); a base theater, where the admission was about half of what local theaters charged; and maybe, just maybe, we could be lucky enough to get assigned to base housing.\u00a0 Now, that would be so great.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s ready for you, DeLe\u00f3n!\u201d the First Sergeant said loudly, startling me just a bit.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir, thank you!\u201d\u00a0 I turned to leave his office and headed to the door marked, \u201cBase Commander\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t forget to salute!\u201d The First Sergeant reminded me as I knocked once on the commander\u2019s door.<\/p>\n

\u201cAirman DeLe\u00f3n reporting as ordered, sir!\u201d Ramrod straight, I popped a snappy salute.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt ease, airman.\u00a0 Have a seat.\u201d<\/p>\n

His rank was major, and he\u2019d had been at the Officers\u2019 Club a few times when I played the piano and my guitar in what seemed such a long time ago.<\/p>\n

Looking at some papers he was holding in one hand, while the other played with the bowl of the dark brown pipe he was smoking, he finally peeked over the top and said, \u201cSo, you\u2019re going to be leaving us, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what the First Sergeant said, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm.\u00a0 Did he mention where your next assignment was going to be?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTatalina Air Force Station, McGrath, Alaska.\u00a0 Know where that is?\u201d<\/p>\n

I was still trying to process the place in Alaska he\u2019d just mentioned.\u00a0 \u201cUh\u2026sorry sir.\u00a0 What?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMcGrath!\u00a0 McGrath, Alaska!\u00a0 Do you know where that is?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo sir.\u00a0 I think I know where Anchorage is, but not McGrath. No.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell son, it\u2019s nowhere close to Anchorage\u2026matter of fact,\u201d he mused as he closed his eyes to envision where this place might be, \u201cit isn\u2019t close to anywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

He put his pipe in a little ceramic bowl shaped like a commode, then stood up and walked to a wall where a large geographical map was posted.<\/p>\n

\u201cMcGrath, McGrath.\u00a0 Let\u2019s see.\u201d\u00a0 He rolled his finger around the large green and beige map.\u00a0 \u201cAh!\u00a0 Here it is!\u00a0 Come here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I walked over and squinted at the little dot on the map at the end of his finger.\u00a0 \u2018McGrath\u2019.\u00a0 It was situated in almost exactly in the center of the state of Alaska, next to a small squiggly river running northeast to southwest.\u00a0 There was nothing around this place for miles.\u00a0 It seemed so desolate.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you think?\u201d The major asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u00a0 I\u2019m just kind of wondering what my wife will think about going there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWife?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u00a0 I got married in June, sir.\u00a0 Had a baby in September.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBaby?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

He stared at me, apparently waiting for some kind of punch line.\u00a0 Hearing none he motioned me back to the chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell son, this is going to be a bit of a tough go, I\u2019m afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow so, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee, this assignment is for twelve months, beginning next month\u2026February.\u00a0 But the bad news is that it\u2019s rated as a remote assignment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d I asked, afraid that I already knew the answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means you go there for twelve months\u2026no wife\u2026no kid\u2026just you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I felt numb, and all of a sudden I couldn\u2019t seem to put two thoughts together in my head.\u00a0 Remote!\u00a0 My God, <\/em>I thought finally, how did it all come down to this?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSir?\u201d\u00a0 I forced the word out of my mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, airman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat am I supposed to do with my wife and child?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m assuming she\u2019s a local girl, so maybe have her move back with her folks.\u00a0 Grandparents love grandkids.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I don\u2019t think we can do that.\u00a0 Her mom is a single mom\u2026and she lives in Reno now anyway.\u00a0 And my parents, well they live in Texas.\u00a0 I don\u2019t know how I would get my family down there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell son, that\u2019s going to be your problem to work out, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK.\u00a0 Go on out and talk to the First Sergeant.\u00a0 He\u2019ll give you your orders, the paperwork you\u2019ll need to set up your dependent pay, moving instructions, and whatever else you\u2019ll need prior to your reassignment.\u00a0 Good luck!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, thank you, sir.\u201d\u00a0 I stood and managed a not so snappy salute.<\/p>\n

I zombie-walked back out to the foyer between the two offices, my thoughts whirling around in my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cAirman DeLe\u00f3n!\u201d\u00a0 It was the First Sergeant.\u00a0 \u201cAll the paperwork you\u2019re gonna need is out with the orderly.\u00a0 Pick\u2019em up on your way out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, thank you.\u201d\u00a0 I turned to leave when I realized that I hadn\u2019t asked a very important question.<\/p>\n

\u201cSergeant?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, airman.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I didn\u2019t mention to the major that in addition to the baby born last September, my wife is pregnant with our second child.\u00a0 That baby is due in August of this year.\u00a0 When I go to Alaska, will I be able to come home for the birth of that baby?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAirman DeLe\u00f3n!\u00a0 This man\u2019s Air Force does not exist solely to solve your fucking problems.\u00a0 And, no!\u00a0 Your assignment is rated as \u2018remote.\u2019\u00a0 That means you\u2019re there for the entire twelve months\u2026no leave, no nothing!\u00a0 Twelve months!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir, I know and I\u2019m sorry, but when I leave, my wife will be left alone with two infants to take care of by herself.\u00a0 I don\u2019t know how she\u2019s gonna be able to handle that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, airman.\u00a0 There\u2019s only one thing I can tell you about that!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou should\u2019ve kept your dick in your pants! \u00a0Now, get out of here, I have things to do and you need to go to the motor pool to have someone drive you up the hill for your shift.\u00a0 Good day!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood day, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t actually recall my walk back to the motor pool, or the drive up to the radar site on the mountain.\u00a0 What I do remember is my reporting in to my crew chief and him acting like I\u2019d gone AWOL.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout time you got your ass back here!\u00a0 Now get into the radar room and see who needs a break.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, DeLe\u00f3n?\u201d\u00a0 The sergeant yelled as I stared to walk away.\u00a0 \u201cSomebody fucking die, or something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look like your fucking dog died!\u00a0 So if he didn\u2019t die then fucking cheer up!\u00a0 I don\u2019t need to have you dragging your sorry ass around here all fucking depressed!\u00a0 You hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir.\u201d\u00a0 I turned quickly, hoping he didn\u2019t see my mood turn from morose to rage.\u00a0 My anger told me to go back and bitch slap him, but my instincts told me that it would be much safer just to keep moving towards the radar room.<\/p>\n

For the rest of the shift I sat quietly watching the phosphorous glow of the height finder antenna on my radar screen swing up and down, and I answered each altitude request strictly by rote.<\/p>\n

And, until I finally got back into my car and headed home, the same two questions kept rolling around in my head: What am I going to tell Sharon, and what are we going to do about Ricky and the new baby?<\/em><\/p>\n

To be continued\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"