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":767,"date":"2016-10-02T19:42:25","date_gmt":"2016-10-03T00:42:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/frankdeleon.com\/?p=767"},"modified":"2016-10-02T19:42:46","modified_gmt":"2016-10-03T00:42:46","slug":"hell-freezes-over-conclusion","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/frankdeleon.com\/?p=767","title":{"rendered":"Hell Freezes Over – Conclusion"},"content":{"rendered":"

Hell Freezes Over<\/strong><\/p>\n

Conclusion<\/strong><\/p>\n

February 1963-February 1964<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Trees, Critters, and Bloody Chickens<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

By the time December rolled around, the scare we\u2019d experienced after President Kennedy\u2019s death had been pretty much been scaled down to a simple wariness\u2014and only when we were on duty in the Radar Tracking room.\u00a0 Life had almost returned back to normal on our tiny radar station.<\/p>\n

Lyndon Johnson had been sworn in as president, Lee Harvey Oswald had been fingered as the probable assassin, and subsequently shot and killed by Jack Ruby; because our alert status had been cut back to its normal level of DEFCON 4, the chow hall had again been opened and our stock of MREs returned to whatever dark hole they been dug up from.<\/p>\n

With my Laundry Detail flourishing I decided to sell my Rec Room Detail, and with the money I made on that I ordered a nice Hi-Fi turntable from an audio mail order catalog.\u00a0 Within a few weeks I had received the turntable and about half a dozen LPs that I\u2019d ordered at the same time.\u00a0 Now, instead of wasting my time and money at the club, I spent what off-time I had in my room listening to my growing collection of music and standup comedy, and writing letters home.<\/p>\n

With my Aunt Janie\u2019s assistance, Sharon had found and moved into a rental house in a fairly decent neighborhood on Houston\u2019s west side.\u00a0 Her letters sounded so much happier\u2014filling me in on what the babies were doing and daydreaming about where my next assignment would take us.\u00a0 With the money I was sending her she was able to pay the rent and utilities on the house, and still deal with the growing expense of raising two children alone.<\/p>\n

Sharon said that about once a week my parents, usually accompanied by my brother Ricky, would visit her and the boys, bringing groceries and cooked food and telling them how much they were missed.\u00a0 That was typical of my folks, giving you hell while you\u2019re living with them, then professing their undying love once you\u2019ve left.<\/p>\n

Even my mother\u2019s letters calmed down and mostly talked about their church activities and the visits to Sharon and the boys.\u00a0 I was surprised to begin receiving the occasional letter from my dad, who practically never wrote to anyone.<\/p>\n

His missives were for the most part neutral in tone, and spoke generally about his church work and his travels with the various reverends he was trying to impress at the time.\u00a0 Surprisingly, he regularly inquired as to my future plans: was I planning to make the service a career, and what I intended to do if I left the Air Force after my four years were done.\u00a0 Since I had no idea, I did my best to avoid discussing the subject when I wrote back.<\/p>\n

Before I knew it the Christmas holidays were in sight, and I scurried around borrowing mail order catalogs from work-mates to shop for presents for Sharon and the boys.\u00a0 This particular activity was completely foreign to me, as I\u2019d gone from being single to being married with two children, in a mere eighteen months.\u00a0 I had no idea what to get for two infant children, and without having Sharon around to drop hints on what she\u2019d like I was almost completely lost.<\/p>\n

Luckily, there were several older airmen with whom I worked who had wives and children at home.\u00a0 After a while I was inundated with suggestions so that all I had to do was cull down the ideas according to price and shipping expense.<\/p>\n

Even though I was sending most of my Laundry Detail money home, I had managed to save quite a bit of money now that I wasn\u2019t drinking and spending time at the club.\u00a0 After my Christmas gift expenses and my subscription to a vinyl record club (which sent me a couple of LPs a month), I estimated that I\u2019d have over five hundred dollars socked away by the time I rotated out of Tatalina.\u00a0 Surely, I thought, that would be more than enough to get us settled wherever the Air Force decided to assign us.<\/p>\n

After finishing my final set of shifts for the week, I was having dinner at the chow hall with Frenchy when we overheard a couple of the guys talking about going out the next morning to find and cut down a small Christmas tree.\u00a0 The weather had cleared and the forecast for the next few days was just clear and cold\u2014at least for the two to three hours of daylight between ten in the morning and two in the afternoon.<\/p>\n

We scooted our chairs up to their table.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo hey, we overheard you guys talking about going out tomorrow to find a tree to chop down?\u201d<\/p>\n

They scooched their chairs around to let us edge up to the table.\u00a0 \u201cYeah,\u201d one of our radar techs nicknamed \u201cSparky\u201d, recently arrived from Iowa said, \u201cWe\u2019re headed out at daybreak.\u00a0 Why?\u00a0 Wanna come along?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure!\u201d I said, emphatically.\u00a0 \u201cHow far you planning on going?\u201d\u00a0 I asked a little cautiously, remembering the two guys that had gotten drunk and left the radar site soon after I\u2019d arrived and had never been found again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, we\u2019re thinking an hour out and an hour back.\u00a0 There\u2019s no wind and there\u2019s a good foot or so of snow on the ground, so we should be able to track ourselves pretty well.\u00a0 Besides, we\u2019ll have our compasses to help.\u00a0 It\u2019ll be more of a sightseeing expedition than a tree chopping run.\u00a0 I\u2019d like to get out and breathe some fresh air, and we\u2019ll find a tree on the way back.\u201d<\/p>\n

The other three guys at the table all agreed by shaking their heads and mumbling affirmative statements.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if we get lost?\u201d Frenchy asked, in his typically whiney Cajun drawl.<\/p>\n

Everyone chuckled at the question, except for me and Frenchy.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t plan on getting lost Frenchy, it\u2019s a two-hour hike, not a fucking Antarctic expedition.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about bears?\u00a0 Aren\u2019t there still bears out there?\u201d Frenchy asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo problem with the bears.\u00a0 We\u2019re checking out carbines from the armory, so we\u2019ll be armed.\u00a0 I\u2019d love to bag a fucking bear though.\u00a0 That would be so cool, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Everyone else agreed and broke into animated conversation about hunting bears, while Frenchy and I quietly reconsidered our request.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d Sparky continued, \u201cyou guys game?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d I said without hesitation.\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019dya think, Frenchy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I guess so\u2026as long as we\u2019re all sure we won\u2019t get lost.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, man!\u201d Sparky chided.\u00a0 \u201cIf you never got lost in those damned swamps in Louisiana, you\u2019re not gonna get lost up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Frenchy said, \u201cbut there were no bears down there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNaw!\u201d Sparky said, slapping Frenchy hard on the back.\u00a0 \u201cJust \u2018gators, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

The next day, after I realized that I would have to dress out in those pesky mukluks, fat-boy pants, and dig out my vision-impairing parka, I thought that maybe I would just opt out of the Christmas tree trip.\u00a0 Just as I was about to convince myself that this was a bad idea, a cheery knock on my door shocked me out of my deep thought.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, mon ami,\u201d Frenchy said, all bubbly.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s go bag us a tree\u2026and maybe a bear too!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re shitting me, right?\u201d I said dourly, as I let him into my room.<\/p>\n

\u201cNever, you\u2019re my favorite turd!\u201d He answered, as he let out a high pitched cackle.<\/p>\n

\u201cFunny.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, man.\u00a0 We need to get to the armory to get our weapons, then to the motor pool to meet up with the other guys.\u00a0 You have breakfast?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNaw, I\u2019m not hungry.\u00a0 I figure I\u2019ll just wait and have something after we get back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, maybe some bear steak!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re insane!\u00a0 I don\u2019t know about you, but I don\u2019t want to see a bear\u2026or a wolf\u2026or a badger\u2026or any other type of critter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHa ha,\u201d he giggled, \u201cseeing a badger would be cool.\u201d<\/p>\n

After getting geared up at the armory and dressed up at the motor pool, the six of us headed out.\u00a0 I found that moving around wasn\u2019t too bad in my fat-boy pants as long as there wasn\u2019t a gale-force wind blowing me around.\u00a0 And, without the goofy giant mittens, I was able to handle my weapon just fine.<\/p>\n

The day was gorgeous!\u00a0 Blue sky, with not a cloud in sight, and a very light wind.\u00a0 The temperature was steady around five to seven degrees, and the snow on the ground had just a light crust of clear ice on the surface.\u00a0 The ground below was frozen solid so our footing was firm and sure.\u00a0 All the different families of evergreen trees in the forest gave off a wonderfully fresh aroma, and without having to zip the hood on my parka over my face gave my nose the opportunity to take full advantage of the aromatic Alaskan foliage.<\/p>\n

The plan was to hike north for about an hour just to see the sights.\u00a0 After about twenty or thirty minutes of semi-dense foliage, we broke into a nice clearing.\u00a0 Scattered lines of tracks made by small game running in and out of the tree line told us that there were indeed a lot of critters around.\u00a0 I was more concerned with finding those large baseball catcher mitt-sized paw prints mashed down through the snow that spelled \u2018bear\u2019, and was relieved when I saw none.<\/p>\n

The most adventurous of our group were itching to see something move and give them the opportunity to fire their carbines, but I was satisfied at just being out of the endless dark hallways and breathing in the sharp coldness of the incredibly fresh air.<\/p>\n

As we approached a small stand of trees, Sparky, who had taken over as point man, raised his right fist into the air, motioning for the group to stop.\u00a0 He pointed to a small tree about twenty or thirty yards in front and to the right of us.\u00a0 Sitting on one of the tree\u2019s leafless limbs was what appeared to me to be a round puffy mound of something\u2014about the size of a basketball.\u00a0 In spite of how much I squinted in the brightness of the day I could not make out what the object was.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it!?\u201d Frenchy squealed behind me.<\/p>\n

\u201cShhh!!\u201d\u00a0 Sparky said, annoyed at Frenchy\u2019s outburst.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019ll fucking spook it, you dumb Cajun.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSpook what?\u201d Frenchy asked, now whispering.\u00a0 \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

The group moved around slowly, and gathered around Sparky\u2014all eyes still glued to the mysterious fluffy lump on the limb.<\/p>\n

In a soft whisper, Sparky said, \u201cOK, that there, gents, is a prairie hen.\u00a0 She\u2019s probably napping since she hasn\u2019t moved, and we\u2019re downwind of her so she can\u2019t scent us.\u00a0 She\u2019s all puffed up like that to keep herself warm.\u00a0 But for the life of me I don\u2019t know what she\u2019s doing up there, she should be on the ground or under a limb.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that like a chicken?\u201d I asked innocently.\u00a0 Everyone in the group turned slowly and stared at me with disbelieving looks.\u00a0 All, except for Frenchy that is, who was nodding fiercely in agreement to my question.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up, DeLe\u00f3n!\u201d Sparky said.\u00a0 \u201cNow here\u2019s what we\u2019re gonna do.\u00a0 None of us has a shotgun, so we\u2019ll have to use our carbines to knock her off that limb.\u00a0 But only one of us gets to take the shot.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow we gonna do that?\u201d\u00a0 One of the other guys in our group asked.<\/p>\n

Sparky thought for a moment, scrunched down to one knee with the rest of us following, then said, \u201cOK, I\u2019ll think of a number between one and ten, then each of you will give me your best guess as to what that number is.\u00a0 And, whoever\u2019s closest gets to take the shot.\u00a0 I\u2019ll exempt myself, of course. I don\u2019t want to participate anyway.\u00a0 Way too easy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSeriously?\u201d Another guy in our group asked.\u00a0 \u201cHow do we know you just won\u2019t pick your favorite buddy when he says the number?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause, first of all, I don\u2019t have a favorite buddy in this group.\u00a0 And second, you\u2019ll just have to trust me, dipshit.\u00a0 That\u2019s all.\u201d Sparky was visibly annoyed.<\/p>\n

A few seconds went by, then he said, \u201cOK, Frenchy you start.\u201d<\/p>\n

We all gave our guesses, one at a time.\u00a0 Meanwhile, the prairie hen waited patiently, snoozing on her limb.<\/p>\n

\u201cShit!\u201d Sparky said, after we\u2019d gone around and given him our numbers.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d\u00a0 Frenchy asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cFucking DeLe\u00f3n.\u00a0 He won.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had guessed \u2018two\u2019, and the winning number was \u2018one\u2019.<\/p>\n

\u201cMe!?\u201d I said, excitedly.<\/p>\n

\u201cQuiet, idiot!\u201d\u00a0 Sparky hissed.\u00a0 \u201cRight, but try not to shoot any of us, OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d I asked as I got up slowly, careful to keep the muzzle of my carbine pointed to the ground, \u201cwhat do I do now?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sparky\u2019s look of exasperation was priceless.\u00a0 I swear he didn\u2019t take a breath for the full minute, or so, when he just stared at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cSeriously?\u201d\u00a0 He finally managed to say through his gritted teeth.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShoot-the-fucking-chicken-stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

En masse, the group stepped a few feet back and gave me wide berth.\u00a0 Before we\u2019d left the radar station, Sparky made sure that we had all locked and loaded a full clip of ammo into our carbines and that each rifle\u2019s safety was on.\u00a0 He\u2019d explained that if we saw a bear, and said bear decided to charge us, that that would not be the time for us dig out our ammo clips and try to jam them into our weapon.<\/p>\n

\u201cBears move fast,\u201d he\u2019d said sagely, \u201cand faster if it happens to be a momma bear with cubs in the area.\u00a0 She\u2019ll be on us before we have a chance to reach into our pockets.\u201d<\/p>\n

I removed the leather glove off my right hand and took up a standing shooting position\u2014bringing the weapon up to my shoulder.\u00a0 I looked up to find the target and was surprised to note that all of a sudden it looked a whole lot further than it had just a few minutes ago\u2014the ball of feathers a mere dot on a barely discernible tree limb.<\/p>\n

I raised the wooden rifle stock to my cheek and sighted in on my target.\u00a0 Closing my non-shooting eye, I put the fluffy looking basketball-like object on the front sight and centered the back sight.\u00a0 Remembering my weapons training during basic, I raised the sights just a fraction above the target to allow for the natural downward descent of the projectile.\u00a0 Floating ice crystals twinkled when the sun caught their tiny chiseled edges as they rode the gentle breeze that was whispering from right to left.\u00a0 I adjusted my aim just a hair to the right to counteract the slight force the wind would have on the trajectory of my round.<\/p>\n

The expected miniscule horizontal figure-eight sway of the barrel began, and I remembered to exert a gentle but steady pull on the trigger\u2014letting the explosion of the shot surprise me.<\/p>\n

\u201cBOOM!\u201d\u00a0 It surprised me.<\/p>\n

The recoil pushed me back slightly, but my right leg, bent slightly at the knee, helped me absorb the energy expended by the explosion of the propellant ignited inside the brass cartridge, and I kept my balance.\u00a0 I lowered my weapon, the sound of the blast still ringing in my ears.<\/p>\n

A chorus of \u201cwhoa!\u201d echoed behind me.<\/p>\n

I blinked my eyes rapidly, expecting to see the prairie hen flapping her wings rapidly and flying off into the blue-white horizon.\u00a0 But, there was nothing on the limb; nothing but a small flurry of feathers floating and spinning downward to the white snow on the ground.<\/p>\n

\u201cShit, Frank!\u00a0 You blasted the shit outta that chicken!\u201d\u00a0 Someone said excitedly behind me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoly crap! That fucker just disappeared!\u201d Another voice chimed in.<\/p>\n

Hands began slapping my back and congratulatory words rained down on me.<\/p>\n

I lowered my weapon and slid the safety back on.\u00a0 \u201cWhere did it go?\u201d\u00a0 I asked no one in particular\u2014still searching the horizon for something more substantial than floating feathers.<\/p>\n

My question caused the group to burst into jovial and raucous laughter:<\/p>\n

\u201cHa!\u00a0 That bird\u2019s toast, Frank\u2014no shit, nothing but feathers\u2014Tweety Bird blew up–FUCK!\u201d<\/p>\n

I was being pushed from behind as the group started crunching its way toward the now solitary tree.\u00a0 I slung the rifle\u2019s canvas strap over my right shoulder and trudged along, heading toward the tree to assess my kill.<\/p>\n

It was the bright red specks, widely scattered here and there on the virgin-white snow that first caught my eye.\u00a0 The closer I got to the tree the more concentrated the redness got\u2014and the less white the snow was.\u00a0 Then a gray speckled feather, gently rocking on top of the snow, lay in my path\u2014its lower shaft covered in purplish-red blood.<\/p>\n

Someone picked it up and tried to stick it behind my ear.\u00a0 \u201cChief Frank, the chicken killer!\u201d\u00a0 That person said, trying to be funny.\u00a0 Laughter all around.<\/p>\n

I reached over and knocked the feather off my head\u2014leaving three of my fingers stained and sticky with blood.\u00a0 I wiped my fingers on the rifle sling, wanting to, but not daring to look at them and slipped the leather glove back on.<\/p>\n

Although there was nothing left on the limb, the thicker upper trunk from whence the limb grew was coated in red-black blood.\u00a0 Fine tufts of white down were stuck willy-nilly to the goo.<\/p>\n

The group stopped about ten feet from the tree\u2014all carefully trying to avoid stepping in the blood-red snow.<\/p>\n

\u201cChrist!\u00a0 Where the fuck did it go?\u201d\u00a0 Someone asked and no one answered<\/p>\n

Finally, Sparky said, \u201cHey buddy?\u00a0 You OK?\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned to my right and saw the concern on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou kinda look like shit.\u00a0 All pale and everything.\u00a0 You ain\u2019t gonna throw up, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

I found my voice.\u00a0 \u201cNo\u2026I don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that what\u2019s left of the hen?\u201d I asked, pointing at the upper trunk of the tree.<\/p>\n

\u201cYep,\u201d Sparky said, \u201ca thirty caliber slug coming in at fifteen hundred feet per second from that distance don\u2019t have much mercy.\u00a0 What you see all around you is the remains of what used to be a fine Alaskan Prairie hen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Waves of laughter.<\/p>\n

I looked around and saw that everyone seemed overjoyed at my kill\u2026all that is, except for Frenchy.<\/p>\n

He was standing a few feet behind the main group, looking wide-eyed at the carnage.\u00a0 His right hand over his mouth, a tear was rolling down his cheek.<\/p>\n

I quickly looked away as his eyes tried to meet mine and I forced myself to show a bit of braggadocio.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, no shit!\u201d I said, maybe a little too loud to the group.\u00a0 \u201cThat was awesome.\u201d\u00a0 I forced my face to squeeze out a smile, but down deep inside I felt like shit.\u00a0 Twice now I had shot and killed an innocent animal: a small doe in Nevada, and now this\u2014and both times I had no stomach to celebrate.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

After trekking a bit further north, Sparky decided that the group should head back south.\u00a0 Consulting his compass, we turned and began the walk back to the station.\u00a0 When we entered the last tree stand before reaching Tatalina, it was suggested that we should begin our search for an appropriate evergreen pine to chop down for our Christmas tree.\u00a0 We\u2019d brought along a nylon net which would be used to wrap the tree in to facilitate our carrying it back.<\/p>\n

Once we found a reasonably sized evergreen, someone produced a military-issue hatchet and we all took turns in chopping it down.\u00a0 When not chopping, the rest of the group kept a wary eye and weapons out for bears and such.\u00a0 But with all the noise we were making I doubted that any critter would venture too close.<\/p>\n

Once back at the station, we were met like successful returning hunters by Major Rusk and a small group of officers and airmen.\u00a0 Besides the excitement of setting the tree up in the chow hall, all the talk was about the great hunter in the group who obliterated a nice little prairie chicken.\u00a0 I was offered free drinks at the club, which I politely declined, and the cooks joked saying that they\u2019d been expecting to get a nice juicy prairie hen to cook up. I looked around for Frenchy, but he was nowhere to be seen.<\/p>\n

After the tree was put up and decorated, we all sang Christmas carols and a few guys shared stories about how their families celebrated the holidays back home.\u00a0 Soon, a large kettle of egg nog was brought out of the kitchen, along with platters of assorted Christmas sugar cookies that the baker had prepared.<\/p>\n

Finally, Major Rusk pulled out a large cardboard box out from under one of the tables.\u00a0 It was marked: \u201cMREs USAF\u201d.\u00a0 Groans and howls of disdain rained down from every direction until he tore open the box.\u00a0 To my surprise it was filled with nothing but tin after tin of, \u201cCake-fruit\u201d.\u00a0 Then it really got rowdy.<\/p>\n

Christmas and New Travel Orders<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

Christmas day I worked.\u00a0 When I got off I spent the rest of the evening washing, ironing, mending and hemming\u2014all the while listening to Christmas songs on my Hi-Fi turntable.\u00a0 Ironing gave me the opportunity to think and reason things out.\u00a0 I had already decided that I would never put myself in the situation that I\u2019d been in when I first got to Alaska\u2014with the drinking, that is.<\/p>\n

Further, I promised myself that I\u2019d try to be a thoughtful and loyal husband and father.\u00a0 The time and distance factor did a lot to help me see where I could\u2019ve been a more understanding person overall, and a better husband specifically.<\/p>\n

Well after midnight, and long after I\u2019d finished my ironing and made the uniform deliveries, I lay on my bed still listening to my little stereo.\u00a0 I wanted so to envision what Sharon and the boys were doing right now.\u00a0 Probably sleeping, I thought\u2014Sharon worn out from having to tend to the babies by herself.\u00a0 And I wondered if she\u2019d liked her gift: a silver necklace with a little silver heart embedded with a very small diamond in the center.\u00a0 And I wondered if I\u2019d finally receive her Christmas gift within the next few days.<\/p>\n

A week before I\u2019d received Mom and Dad\u2019s gift\u2014some socks, a pack of white handkerchiefs, and a nice wallet.\u00a0 But nothing from Sharon.\u00a0 I assumed she\u2019d just been a bit too busy to mail the gift in enough time for it to get to me before the postmaster ceased the daily flights to Tatalina for the holidays.<\/p>\n

It would be well after New Year\u2019s Day before I received a letter from Sharon.\u00a0 It was just a short letter telling me that she hoped I\u2019d had a nice Christmas and explaining that she\u2019d not had time to shop and send me anything.\u00a0 Besides, she said, she had no idea what to get for me.\u00a0 Finally, she surmised, I\u2019d be home in a couple of months anyhow, and she\u2019d have the present there for when I got home.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

A few days after the New Year, I heard that Major Rusk had received his orders back to the lower forty-eight.\u00a0 He was to be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and assigned as an assistant executive officer to the base commander at Travis Air Force base, just outside of Oakland, California.<\/p>\n

The news got me excited because northern California was where I also wanted to be reassigned.\u00a0 Although I knew that my career field did not have any detachments at Travis, there were a couple of bases in that area that did.\u00a0 The next time I saw him as I checked my mailbox, I congratulated him and wished him well.\u00a0 I mentioned that with any luck I may even see him again in a couple of months if my reassignment request came through.<\/p>\n

He shook my hand heartily and then said, \u201cWell, good luck on that.\u00a0 I had requested reassignment to anywhere in the Midwest\u201d.<\/p>\n

I was getting antsy about getting my notification for reassignment, as it was already the second week of January when Tommy S\u00e1nchez came bursting into my room.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, vato!\u00a0 Guess what?\u00a0 The February reassignment orders have been posted in the mail room!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d I asked, jumping off my bed.\u00a0 \u201cDid you get yours?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure I did\u2026and you too!\u00a0 But I thought I\u2019d stop by your room and we can both go down and see where we\u2019re going.\u00a0 Come on!\u201d<\/p>\n

We all but ran excitedly down the hallway in the direction of the mail room.\u00a0 As we pounded into the little room we saw a large yellow teletype sheet hung on one of the walls.\u00a0 Several guys were already pressed up to the sheet trying to find their names and the associated assignment.<\/p>\n

Since the names were in alphabetical order I started looking up close to the top of the sheet and Tommy bent over to look near the bottom.<\/p>\n

He found his first.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the fuck?\u201d I heard Tommy mumble.<\/p>\n

I looked down and to my right and saw Tommy squinting at the sheet\u2014his right index finger marking the spot where he\u2019d found his name.\u00a0 \u201cDid you get your assignment?\u201d\u00a0 I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but I don\u2019t fucking get it.\u00a0 What the fuck?\u201d<\/p>\n

He really seemed perturbed, but since he\u2019d requested a base in Florida I assumed he\u2019d not gotten it.<\/p>\n

I went back to looking for my name.<\/p>\n

And there it was.<\/p>\n

\u201cA3C Frank DeLeon, reassigned from 717^{th<\/sup> AC&W Sq., Tatalina AFS, Alaska\u2014to\u2014130^{th<\/sup> AC&W Sq., Olathe NAS, Kansas.\u00a0 *See actual travel orders for DPTR DATE & Travel Time Permitted & Per Diem rate.\u00a0 Promoted to A2C, Effective 2\/1\/1964.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n}}

It was my turn to exclaim, \u201cWhat the fuck?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tommy jerked his head up and asked, \u201cDid you find your assignment?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, it says I\u2019m going to someplace in Kansas named \u2018Oh-lay-th\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoly shit!\u201d Tommy exclaimed, \u201cSo am I!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWHAT?\u00a0 I thought you put in for Florida!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI did!\u00a0 And you put in for California!\u201d<\/p>\n

We looked at each other and suddenly realized the terrible trick the Air Force had played on us.\u00a0 Two Hispanic airmen\u2014both from Texas, and both having served at the same two previous bases, were now going to spend their next assignment, at the same place.\u00a0 Someone in Air Force Headquarters had seen our \u2018dream sheets\u2019, each requesting diametrically opposed transfer requests, and split the difference.<\/p>\n

Ha, ha.<\/p>\n

Kansas.<\/p>\n

Funny.<\/p>\n

I looked at the sheet again and noted the \u2018NAS\u2019 after \u2018Olathe\u2019.\u00a0 \u201cWhat the hell\u2019s a \u2018NAS\u2019?\u201d I asked to no one in particular.<\/p>\n

For a few seconds no one said anything.\u00a0 Then from behind me an airman checking his mail casually said, \u201cNaval Air Station.\u201d<\/p>\n

Huh?\u00a0 Now I just knew for sure that there was something horribly wrong with my assignment.\u00a0 I was in the Air Force, not the damn Navy!\u00a0 Further, who in the hell would put a navy base in Kansas?\u00a0 Didn\u2019t the U.S. Navy need water to float their ships?<\/p>\n

\u201cHow in the hell can I be going to a naval air station in Kansas?\u201d\u00a0 I again asked no one.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s a little far from any ocean, isn\u2019t it?\u00a0 No one in their right mind would put a naval base in Kansas!\u00a0 That\u2019s just fucked up!\u201d<\/p>\n

The same airman, now ripping open a letter that he\u2019d extracted from his box said, \u201cIt\u2019s a naval air station, not a naval base.\u00a0 They have navy airplanes there, not boats.\u00a0 They probably have an air force radar squadron there as a detachment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, how can I be going to a naval facility?\u201d I again asked.<\/p>\n

Tommy had finally stood up.\u00a0 He put his hand on my shoulder and said, \u201cWe\u2019re so fucked.\u201d\u00a0 And he walked off shaking his head.<\/p>\n

Not satisfied with what I\u2019d just read I turned and looked around for the office orderly.\u00a0 The previous very old looking airman second class (A2C), had rotated out and had been replaced by an even older looking airman first class (A1C).\u00a0 I saw him sitting at his desk, ignoring everything around him and casually leafing through a sheaf of papers.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey,\u201d I said, trying to get his attention, \u201cthis reassignment has got to be wrong.\u201d As I pointed to the sheet on the wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he responded, stifling a yawn, \u201cactually, I\u2019ve got your orders here if you want them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do they say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSame as the teletype on the wall.\u00a0 You, and your buddy S\u00e1nchez, are going to the Land of Oz\u2026Kansas.\u201d<\/p>\n

As I walked slowly back to my room I thought, well at least I\u2019ve been promoted.<\/p>\n

Goodbye Alaska, Hello Olathe<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

When 1964 rolled around I had finally reached the exalted status of \u2018short-timer\u2019.\u00a0 I now had the privilege of ending conversations in mid-sentence by announcing that I was too short (time wise) to engage in conversations of more than five words; berating new arrivals by suggesting that they should just consider suicide rather than face the next twelve months at Tatalina; or randomly yelling \u2018FIGMO\u2019 (Fuck-I-Got-My-Orders) at any given time just to remind everyone within earshot of my status.\u00a0 But, actually I did none of those things because I still remembered how humiliated and depressed I felt having to leave my family alone and on their own and having to bear those insults day after day.<\/p>\n

Instead, I busied myself interviewing potential Laundry Detail buyers and making my recommendations to the Enterprise Group.\u00a0 Of course, the group had changed leadership as members rotated out, and when Donny left I was offered the opportunity of buying his seat.\u00a0 I thought about it for a while, but I decided that I didn\u2019t need all the hassles that the Group had to deal with on a daily basis.\u00a0 Because records keeping was not an exact science in those days, detail owners sometimes had to be prodded to report their real profits\u2014and it was a badly kept secret that they cheated.\u00a0 I was happy just doing the washing and ironing, and keeping most of the money to myself.<\/p>\n

After a few days, the idea that I was going to be heading to Olathe, Kansas had finally sunk in\u2014and I discovered that the name of the town was actually pronounced, \u2018O-l\u00e1y-tha\u2019.\u00a0 It was a Shawnee Indian word meaning, \u2018Beautiful\u2019.\u00a0 I had no idea if that was true or not, but all I could think of was, how am I going to break this news to Sharon?\u00a0 <\/em>So, one evening I decided that I should immediately write her a letter.\u00a0 After all, we were in this as a family, and this would be another adventure in our young life together.\u00a0 Little did I know that it would turn out to be more than either of us could take.<\/p>\n

Her letter in return was surprisingly accepting; she even sounded happy to know that I would be coming home soon and seemed excited to be able to restart our lives together.\u00a0 I began making plans for the trip home and promised to let her know what day she could expect me in Houston.<\/p>\n

As I planned my trip home I decided that it would not be a repeat of the trip I had taken up to Alaska.\u00a0 I was better informed this time around, and for sure, I would not be riding a bus for thirty-plus hours.\u00a0 Although I still planned to save the majority of the travel pay the Air Force would be giving me to fly commercial home\u2014but I would do it, not by riding a bus, but by flying standby\u2014or as it was called those days, \u2018space-A\u2019, instead.<\/p>\n

I had been told by some of the guys at the radar station that military standbys had priority over regular standbys now that the Vietnam war was heating up.\u00a0 I had no idea how that would work out, but it couldn\u2019t be any worse than the bus trip I\u2019d take up from Houston.<\/p>\n

I spent a lot of time checking out airline schedules and alternative routes, and finally decided on a plan of attack.\u00a0 The Air Force would fly me free from Tatalina, McGrath, Anchorage and finally McChord Air Force Base, just outside of Seattle.\u00a0 After that I was on my own.<\/p>\n

I made arrangements to take a bus shuttle from McChord to Sea-Tac Airport.\u00a0 From there I would put into play my space-A plan.\u00a0 There was a morning Northwest Airlines flight daily from Sea-Tac Airport to Dallas Love Airport, in Texas.\u00a0 Then, after a four-hour layover, a connecting afternoon Braniff Airlines flight was scheduled to Houston Hobby Airport.\u00a0 Once there, a short taxi ride, and I would be home.<\/p>\n

The trick was to be able to get on the flights without getting bumped off.\u00a0 That\u2019s where luck would have to play in, but just in case, I made some alternative plans.<\/p>\n

McChord had temporary quarters, in the event I got bumped in Seattle, and it would only be a forty-five-minute bus ride.\u00a0 Then I could try to get on the flight the next day.<\/p>\n

If worse came to worse, there were other flights out of Seattle that would eventually get me to Houston.\u00a0 It would just take me a little longer.<\/p>\n

Also, I made plans to ship my duffle bag, containing only uniforms, a few days early via military transport.\u00a0 I had purchased a light suitcase and carry-on via catalog, and those would be lightly packed with all my necessary travel items, and a couple of changes of clothes.\u00a0 I would never get caught short like I had the year before on my way up to Alaska.<\/p>\n

My last few weeks at the radar station were spent planning, packing, and shipping stuff out.\u00a0 I wanted to make sure the Chevy was in good shape so I sent Sharon some extra money and asked her to take the car to a mechanic to give it a good once over.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t want to have any problems on the eight-hundred mile trip from Houston to Olathe. When she wrote back she said that she\u2019d asked my dad for a recommendation on a good mechanic and he\u2019d immediately volunteered to give the car a good going over himself.\u00a0 She\u2019d offered to pay him but he wouldn\u2019t take any money.\u00a0 When I wrote her back I asked her to tell dad to make sure to check the exhaust manifold for leaks.<\/p>\n

I sold my Laundry Detail, and when I tallied up my profits I found that I\u2019d grossed about four-hundred dollars.\u00a0 With that, and the travel advance that the Air Force was planning to give me before I left Tatalina, I surmised that we\u2019d have more than enough money to get me home and all of us up to Olathe.<\/p>\n

Once we got up there, we\u2019d be needing some cash to secure temporary housing until the Air Force helped find us permanent lodging.<\/p>\n

These were certainly the days before the Internet and Google, so any research on my new assignment had to be done by asking the troops if anyone had known of, or heard about someone having spent time there.\u00a0 Luckily, one of the motor pool guys, who\u2019d just arrived, had served a tour of duty at Whiteman Air Force Base, in Missouri.<\/p>\n

Over a couple of beers, he filled me in on what he knew of Olathe.\u00a0 Even though the naval air station was in Kansas, it was not actually located in Olathe but in a smaller town just to the south, named Gardner.\u00a0 It was only about twenty-five miles west of the Kansas and Missouri border, and a twenty-minute freeway car ride would land you smack in the middle of Kansas City, Missouri.\u00a0 He called it the Jazz Capitol of the Midwest.<\/p>\n

According to him, Interstate 35 cut through Olathe, north and south, and the majority of the population lived on the west side of the highway.\u00a0 The eastern part of Olathe was mostly farmland, for the exception of one large Federal facility that sat on the intersection of Interstate 35 and Santa Fe Drive.\u00a0 He wasn\u2019t too sure, but he thought the facility was some kind of air traffic control building.\u00a0 He laughed when he remembered that the people who worked there had to drive on a road cut through an acre of grazing livestock to get to their facility\u2019s parking lot.<\/p>\n

The Olathe Naval Air Station was a training base for naval pilots, and all types of disciplines supporting this mission.\u00a0 Of course the Air Force had a radar detachment there, where I\u2019d been assigned, but I was surprised to hear that it also hosted an Army Nike missile squadron, and a contingent of Marines.\u00a0 Fly-boys, ground-pounders, jar-heads, and squids\u2014all working and playing together in Kansas.\u00a0 I was blown away.<\/p>\n

Although the radar detachment that I was assigned to was small, the base itself was large, and had a lot of amenities.\u00a0 It sported commissaries, theaters, clubs for both enlisted men and officers, several gymnasiums, and even a golf course.\u00a0 I\u2019d never played golf before but I thought that any military base that had a golf course had to be pretty cool.<\/p>\n

A few days before I was to leave Tatalina, I saw Tommy in the chow hall having his dinner.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, can I join you?\u201d\u00a0 I asked, putting my tray down on the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, vato.\u00a0 What\u2019s up?\u00a0 Ready to depart this hellhole?\u201d\u00a0 He asked cynically.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, that\u2019s for sure.\u00a0 I haven\u2019t seen you for a while.\u00a0 You got everything set?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYup.\u00a0 Did you hear we\u2019re both gonna fly outa here on the same bush plane?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but I was wondering how that was gonna work.\u00a0 You flying all the way home?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I already got my plane reservations out of Sea-Tac.\u00a0 My folks sent me the tickets already.\u00a0 I\u2019ll go to Dallas first then catch another flight to San Antonio.\u00a0 You?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, almost the same thing you\u2019re doing, but I\u2019m planning to flying Space-A to Dallas, then same to Houston.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, if you\u2019re lucky enough to get on both flights you\u2019re gonna save a shitload of money, that\u2019s for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the plan.\u00a0 You know, we may end up on the same flight to Dallas\u2026that is, if I get on.\u00a0 Wouldn\u2019t that be something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, well since Space-A\u2019s board last I won\u2019t save you a seat.\u201d\u00a0 He looked up and grinned.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t tell if he was kidding or serious.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo sweat.\u00a0 If I get on I\u2019ll be happy to sit on the floor.\u201d<\/p>\n

The rest of the meal we chatted about the upcoming assignment\u2014with me doing most of the talking.\u00a0 Finally, he stopped me by saying that he\u2019d also pumped the same guy I had for information.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, he told me all that shit too.\u00a0 I don\u2019t give a crap since I\u2019ll only be there for ten months.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d\u00a0 I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, this\u2019ll be it for me.\u00a0 I getting the fuck out of this man\u2019s Air Force.\u00a0 Why?\u00a0 Aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know; I\u2019ve really not given it a whole lot of thought.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, next December will make our fourth year in this fucking service, vato.\u00a0 Or did you lose track of time?\u201d<\/p>\n

Call me simple, but that was the first time that I realized I only had ten months left on my four-year enlistment.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yeah, I know.\u201d I lied.\u00a0 But that\u2019s still a long way away.\u00a0 I\u2019ll have to talk to my wife and see what plans we come up with.\u00a0 But I\u2019m sure I\u2019ll be getting out too.\u201d\u00a0 I know I didn\u2019t sound too convincing.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I\u2019ll just fucking bet.\u201d He grunted, \u201cYou got a wife and two fucking kids already, man.\u00a0 And to tell you the truth, I don\u2019t see you going anywhere in ten months.\u00a0 In fact, with what you got going, which is nothing, you\u2019ve set yourself to be a fucking lifer in the goddam Air Force.\u00a0 A fucking lifer!\u00a0 Shit man,\u201d he said, wiping his mouth and picking up his tray, \u201cI\u2019d kill myself rather than be in your situation.\u201d He turned and walked off, shaking his head.\u00a0 And those would be the last words Tommy and I ever spoke to one another.<\/p>\n

The Beginning of the End of Isolation<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

At about 11:00 AM, on Wednesday, February 12, 1964, I took the bush plane out of Tatalina on my way to McGrath.\u00a0 It was a beautiful day, the sunrise breaking over the mountains a little before seven, with a promised eight hours of sunshine before the sun set around four-thirty that afternoon.<\/p>\n

Tommy and I were driven out to the airstrip around nine-thirty in the old blue pickup truck, and although we sat side by side on the short trip, not a word passed between us.\u00a0 Within a few minutes of arriving, and after unloading our suitcases and carry-ons, we spotted the red single-engine on its short final approach.\u00a0 The five-minute flight to McGrath was completely uneventful, and after unloading my luggage I walked into the small terminal to wait for boarding on the fifty-minute flight to Anchorage.\u00a0 Later on that afternoon, after the three-hour flight to McChord AFB, I was on the shuttle bus headed to Seattle-Tacoma Airport.<\/p>\n

As I entered the large terminal at the Sea-Tac airport, a strange feeling suddenly overtook me.\u00a0 For a few seconds I felt completely disoriented and thought I may even lose my footing. \u00a0I veered off to one side and quickly found a row of seats positioned in front of a gigantic window facing the tarmac and the runways.\u00a0 I sat down heavily, and took my hat off.<\/p>\n

I sat for a few minutes trying to understand what was happening to me.\u00a0 Thoughts were flying around in my head, confusing me so much that I decided to bend over in the seat and rest my head down close to my knees.\u00a0 I could feel cold sweat forming on my forehead and on the back of my neck.\u00a0 I closed my eyes and tried to keep the nauseous feeling that was welling up in my throat in check.<\/p>\n

After about five minutes or so, I started to feel better.\u00a0 I slowly raised my head back up and opened my eyes.\u00a0 I looked around to see if anyone had noticed my swoon, and that\u2019s when I understood what had happened to me.<\/p>\n

There were people everywhere!\u00a0 More people in one place than I\u2019d ever seen in one place during the past year.\u00a0 And they all seemed to be talking\u2014loud!\u00a0 Further, there were multiple announcements being made at the same time: flight numbers, gate changes, requests for mister or missus so-and-so to pick up the white phone for a message, babies crying, and relatives noisily greeting their loved ones.\u00a0 The noise was overpowering\u2014and added to that the sheer volume of people moving to and fro, had all but overwhelmed my senses.\u00a0 In today\u2019s terms my condition would be called a panic attack.<\/p>\n

For the last year I had existed in a semi-quiet environment\u2014often spending hour upon hour by myself, drinking, sleeping, washing and ironing, reading and just sitting alone in my room.\u00a0 Now all of a sudden, I\u2019d been thrown into an environment that was nothing less than chaotic and totally bewildering.\u00a0 The movement and energy of the people around me, and the noise they were creating assaulted me as soon as I\u2019d entered the terminal.<\/p>\n

Once I understood what had happened, I began to look around and slowly absorb the tumultuous atmosphere and instantly began to feel better.\u00a0 Once I felt that I could get up and deal with all the commotion happening around me, I began to search for the Northwest Airlines ticket counter.<\/p>\n

I wandered a bit around the terminal, familiarizing myself with the surroundings and looking for the baggage pickup.\u00a0 On the way, I passed the military courtesy desk and remembered that I\u2019d seen Tommy heading in that direction right before I imploded.\u00a0 I now assumed he was planning to spend the night at their little canteen before listing himself on the morning flight to Dallas.\u00a0 I had no intention of going in there and chancing having to spend an uncomfortable night trying to avoid him.\u00a0 So I decided to try my luck elsewhere.<\/p>\n

Having retrieved my suitcase, I wandered a bit more until I spied the Northwest Airlines ticket counter. I stepped up and got the ticket agent\u2019s attention.\u00a0 I inquired about their next day\u2019s early morning flight to Dallas, and the agent said that the flight was on time, but, after checking the manifest said that all the seats were booked.\u00a0 The only hope of getting on that flight would depend on the number of \u2018no-shows\u2019.\u00a0 And with Dallas being a popular destination, the odds of any no-shows were long.<\/p>\n

\u201cHowever\u201d, the perky ticket agent said as she shuffled through some papers, \u201cwe\u2019ve scheduled a red-eye for tonight to position an airplane that we need in Dallas for tomorrow.\u00a0 And that flight is\u2026\u201d and she squinted her eyes as she scanned a manifest, \u201cwell, it\u2019s got plenty of seats \u2018cause no one likes red-eye flights.\u00a0 So if you want, you can get on that one, Space-A, with no problem.\u00a0 Wanna do that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat time will it get me to Dallas?\u201d\u00a0 I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s scheduled at about twenty-three-hundred tonight\u2014and with\u2026let\u2019s see\u2026four plus twenty flight time, you should be in Dallas around two-thirty, or so, in the morning\u2026their time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWow!\u00a0 That\u2019s early!\u201d\u00a0 I said, a little surprised.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but look: you\u2019ll be in Dallas, and I know they have hourly flights out of there to Houston starting around zero-six-hundred.\u00a0 So you\u2019ll be in good shape since you\u2019ll probably be first on the Space-A list\u2014having gotten there so early.\u00a0 Otherwise, if you wait here, no telling when you\u2019ll get to Dallas.\u201d<\/p>\n

It made sense to me, and knowing Tommy would also be getting a seat to Dallas the next day, I asked her to go ahead and put my name on the Space-A list for the red-eye at eleven.<\/p>\n

In my last letter to Sharon I\u2019d told her that I\u2019d probably be arriving in Houston on Friday or even Saturday.\u00a0 At the time that was my best guess, since I had no idea what the flight scheduling would be like once I got to Seattle.\u00a0 But now, it looked like I\u2019d be home as early as Thursday afternoon\u2014a whole day early!<\/p>\n

I wanted to call her from the terminal right away once I put my name on the red-eye flight to Dallas, but thought better of it, considering I didn\u2019t have the best luck in the world when it came to traveling.\u00a0 So I decided that when I got to Dallas, and was assured of a seat on to Houston, I\u2019d take a few minutes and call her then.\u00a0 It would be a cheaper call anyway than calling her from Seattle.<\/p>\n

Since I still had a few hours before the flight was called I headed for the cafeteria to load up on coffee.\u00a0 I found an empty table and sat down with my coffee and a gigantic cinnamon roll.\u00a0 As I ate I remembered my situation just a year before and how bad that had been.\u00a0 Now, here I was, still in a fresh uniform, and a suitcase full of clean and dry underwear and socks, should the need arise for a change.\u00a0 In a few hours I would be home, hugging and kissing my wife and kids.<\/p>\n

I must\u2019ve looked pretty foolish to anyone who may have been walking by just then and noticed me sitting alone at the table looking off into the distance, coffee cup in hand\u2014my eyes watering and my face plastered all over with a goofy, happy, and very satisfied look.<\/p>\n

Home, At Last<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

The flight to Dallas was on time and because of the light passenger load I found that I had my choice of seats.\u00a0 I picked a window seat on the left side of the DC-8, and settled in for the four-hour flight.<\/p>\n

While waiting in the terminal, I had bought a copy of the Seattle Times<\/em> newspaper to read onboard the plane.\u00a0 It seemed so odd to read print on white paper, and illustrated with pictures and artwork to describe most of the articles.\u00a0 For a year I had received the daily news by reading it off of long sheets of drab yellow teletype paper, printed in starkly rambling print.\u00a0 One had to use one\u2019s imagination when reading how Jack Ruby had hidden a black revolver somewhere on his \u201cstocky\u201d body and in his loosely fitting suit, and imagined the expression of agonizing pain and surprise on Lee Harvey Oswald\u2019s face as he\u2019d absorbed the slug that slammed into his gut, killing him.<\/p>\n

After a bit of reading my eyes grew heavy.\u00a0 Since no one was sitting in my three-seat row, I removed my shoes and stretched my legs out on the other two seats.\u00a0 With my head and shoulders leaning on the oval window, the soothing lull of the humming jet engines soon pulled me down into a light slumber.<\/p>\n

A sudden change of altitude woke me up, and soon the pilot was calling for us to fasten our seat-belts for our descent into Dallas, Texas.<\/p>\n

Entering the terminal, I made a direct run at the Braniff Airlines ticket counter.\u00a0 It was still very early in the morning so no one was manning the desk, but I took a seat adjacent to it to make sure I was the first one to see the agent arriving.<\/p>\n

As luck would have it, I was able to get on their seven o\u2019clock flight, direct to Houston.\u00a0 My arrival time at Hobby Airport was scheduled to be just after eight in the morning, on February 13, 1964.<\/p>\n

It was hard to contain my joy as I boarded the flight and slid into my assigned seat.\u00a0 When the agent at the Braniff counter had given me my boarding pass, she told me, \u201cEven though you\u2019re listed as Space-A, we here at Braniff always honor our returning Vietnam veterans by assigning them a seat.\u00a0 Welcome home airman DeLeon, God bless you and thank you for your service to our country.\u201d\u00a0 I felt a little embarrassed, but didn\u2019t have the courage to tell her I was coming home from Alaska.<\/p>\n

After claiming my baggage, I waved down a Yellow Cab from the taxi stand.\u00a0 The driver insisted on taking my bags himself and putting them in the trunk of the car.\u00a0 I gave him my wife\u2019s address and settled in for the drive.\u00a0 I had no idea how long of a ride it would be, but the closer I got the more excited I felt.\u00a0 I had decided not to call Sharon after all when I\u2019d de-planed\u2014preferring instead to surprise her and arrive unannounced.\u00a0 I had picked out a small bouquet of flowers at the airport gift shop for her and a couple of little airplane toys for the boys and hoped that those offerings would allay any feelings of annoyance that she may have for my not having called as soon as I\u2019d flown into Houston.<\/p>\n

I stood on the porch of the small, but very nice, brick and wood frame home, and pushed the doorbell.\u00a0 The front door had a glass top, but a white frilled curtain prevented me from seeing inside the house.<\/p>\n

As the doorknob turned I heard a cry of happiness and surprise.\u00a0 The door flew open and I laid eyes on my wife for the first time in over three-hundred and sixty days.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh my God, Frank!\u00a0 You\u2019re home!\u201d\u00a0 She screamed as she threw herself into my arms.<\/p>\n

I hugged her tightly and smelled the sweet flowery scent of shampoo in her hair.\u00a0 My tears flowed unabashedly, and I found it difficult to say anything more.\u00a0 All I could manage to do was rock her from side to side and bury my face in the soft skin of her neck and shoulder\u2014the little bouquet of flowers fell to the floor.<\/p>\n

Finally, and too soon for me, we pulled away from each other; and for the first time I saw that the girl that I\u2019d left a year ago had grown into a woman.\u00a0 At that moment, and as I looked into her blue-green eyes, I could not fathom the expanse of my love for her.<\/p>\n

She pulled me into the small living room and through her tears said, \u201cGod, let me look at you!\u00a0 You look so handsome, and oh Frank, I missed you so very, very much! I love you with all my heart!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe too, sweetheart, me too.\u201d<\/p>\n

She turned around and pulling me along said, \u201cCome, come look at Ricky and Frank Junior\u2026your sons.\u00a0 I know they\u2019re little, but you know, I think they missed you too!\u00a0 Oh, Frank!\u201d<\/p>\n

I followed her as she guided me into the little kitchen where Ricky was sitting on a high chair, and little Frank was in his bassinette.<\/p>\n

\u201cGod, I missed them too,\u201d I said, holding her tightly and gazing at my sons, \u201cbut look, I\u2019m home now, and I promise you that I\u2019ll never ever leave you alone again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh\u2026those words!<\/p>\n

How easily they came out of my mouth that day; and they were meant with all truthfulness\u2014and so full of pure love and honest intentions.<\/p>\n

But, those very words, spoken through the veil of youth and ignorance, will painfully and forever haunt me for as long as I live.<\/p>\n

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