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":970,"date":"2017-09-13T21:07:03","date_gmt":"2017-09-14T02:07:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/frankdeleon.com\/?p=970"},"modified":"2017-09-13T21:07:03","modified_gmt":"2017-09-14T02:07:03","slug":"texas-part-four","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/frankdeleon.com\/?p=970","title":{"rendered":"Texas – Part Four"},"content":{"rendered":"

Texas \u2013 Part Four<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

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

Flying Planes, Selling Shoes, and Saving Lives<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

The day I took my first flying lesson, August 13, 1968, marked almost exactly four months before I would arrive at the end of my career in the Air Force.\u00a0 Although I had a general idea about what I wanted to do for a living after getting my discharge, I had no real plan on how to achieve it (aside from earning a pilot\u2019s license); nor did I spend any time wondering how long it would take me to get a job in aviation.\u00a0 In short, I was just winging it.\u00a0 (No pun intended).<\/p>\n

I was just ignorant enough to not realize that some successful people either spent years in college, or labored in low-paying apprenticeships preparing themselves for a career in their chosen field, while others hired into companies or corporations right out of high school and slowly gained the knowledge and experience that would eventually make them desirable candidates for higher level positions.<\/p>\n

Me?\u00a0 I never spent a moment worrying about where I was going to end up once I got out of the service.\u00a0 As I said before, I had a vague idea that maybe once I earned my private pilot license I could continue my training for a commercial and instrument rating\u2014then maybe get hired by someone, somewhere, to fly airplanes.\u00a0 Yeah.<\/p>\n

Of course I could always sell shoes, right?\u00a0 By now I was pretty much keeping up with Eddie on commissions at the shoe store, in spite of putting in less total hours than he did.\u00a0 And, every day I felt more and more comfortable in my role as a debonair ladies\u2019 shoe salesman.<\/p>\n

Sadly, it never dawned on me that once I left the Air Force a good chunk of my monthly bring-home would disappear; even with the increase in my hours at the shoe store, my sales income would barely match what I was bringing in before my discharge.<\/p>\n

But, ignorance is certainly bliss, because up until then I was a happy, if not tired, camper.<\/p>\n

Had it not been for a timely and fortuitous conversation with my flight instructor one day during my flight debrief, I would\u2019ve probably just continued to march blindly toward that proverbial cliff with no bottom, and no telling where I would\u2019ve ended up.<\/p>\n

We had just landed after about ninety minutes of practicing stalls, dead-reckoning navigation, and four well-executed short field approaches and landings. \u201cWell,\u201d Marshall said while making an entry into my flight book, \u201cyou\u2019re really coming right along.\u00a0 Almost a natural, I\u2019d say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d I answered, checking my watch to see how long I had before my return to my daily Air Force duties.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m really having a lot of fun\u2014although sometimes I get a bit nervous, especially when I\u2019m doing accelerated stalls and handling engine out procedures.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u00a0 Well, you sure don\u2019t show it.\u00a0 You\u2019re very cool under pressure and you don\u2019t seem to lose your composure like some of my other students.\u00a0 You always been that calm?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you kidding me?\u00a0 I think I tend to fly off the handle rather easily.\u00a0 I don\u2019t think I\u2019m calm and cool at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you are, and if what you say is true you hide it very well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrust me, I may look cool on the outside, but inside I\u2019m a mass of doubts and always on the verge of sheer panic.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what are your plans?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cPlans?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, you know\u2014when you get out of the service in December.\u00a0 Gonna stay with the shoe store?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2026well, I guess\u2014for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019ll probably want to continue my flight training.\u00a0 You know\u2014work on my commercial, multi-engine, and instrument ratings.\u00a0 Stuff like that.\u00a0 Don\u2019t I have to have those ratings to get a job with an airline?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSon, you\u2019re gonna need a whole lot more than that.\u00a0 You need to have a bunch of hours as PIC (pilot-in-command) logged in before anyone\u2019ll even consider you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh\u2026about\u2026how many hours do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got over fifteen-hundred as PIC, and twelve-hundred of those is jet time, and I don\u2019t know if that\u2019s gonna be enough.\u00a0 It\u2019s pretty competitive, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

I did a quick mental calculation and figured that I\u2019d probably need another fourteen-hundred and ninety-seven hours to get where Marshall was.\u00a0 At an average of seven dollars per flying hour I\u2019d need another $10,479, and God knows how many more years of flying.\u00a0 Of course, that didn\u2019t take into consideration that I would still have to have a job that would allow me to spend that kind of money outside of normal living expenses.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoly cow!\u201d was the most intelligent response I could think of right then.\u00a0 After returning back to my squadron, I spent the rest of the afternoon mulling over what we\u2019d talked about and wondering whether or not I was making the right decision by getting out of the Air Force.<\/p>\n

That evening I decided to talk over the situation with Kaz and I told her about the conversation I\u2019d had with Marshall.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what are you going to do?\u00a0 We made all these plans and I\u2019m working so you could learn to fly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, but I don\u2019t think we can afford to spend all that money for the next however many years it would take for me to get all those flying hours.\u00a0 And then, there\u2019s no guarantee that I\u2019ll be hired.\u00a0 But I do know one thing:\u00a0 I\u2019m not going to reenlist for another four years in the Air Force.\u00a0 That\u2019s for sure!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you said we may not be able to live just on your shoe store salary.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get another goddamn job before I stay another day past my separation in the Air Force.\u00a0 They\u2019ve done nothing but screw me over for the last eight years.\u00a0 First, they send me to Alaska for a year, and I have to leave Sharon with a six-month-old baby with another one on the way.\u00a0 Then, a year and a half later they send me unaccompanied for another eighteen months to Okinawa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Okinawa ended up being a good move, don\u2019t you think?\u201d\u00a0 She gave me a cute little mischievous smile and I reached over and gave her a little kiss on the forehead.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, that\u2019s true.\u00a0 But I went through hell before we met.\u00a0 And it sure wasn\u2019t a picnic for Sharon and the boys either.\u00a0 No, I\u2019m not going to give the Air Force a chance to fuck over me again!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo\u2026what we going to do then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I have to, Kaz, I\u2019ll work two or three jobs to make ends meet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t there something you can do with your Air Force training?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere isn\u2019t much of a call in civilian life for a guy who stared at a radar scope for eight years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I think you will think of something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope so.\u201d<\/p>\n

For the next few days I did little other than worry about our future.\u00a0 Then, while flying in after a training session for an approach to the Bergstrom Airport an idea popped into my head.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\u201cBergstrom Approach, Cherokee 8461R two miles east of the field, request enter downwind at one-thousand five hundred feet for a touch and go to runway 36 right.\u201d \u00a0I leveled the aircraft and scanned the skies for traffic.<\/p>\n

\u201cCherokee 8461R, in sight and enter traffic pattern at one-thousand five hundred feet approved.\u00a0 Bergstrom altimeter is 2993, wind 350 degrees at ten knots, report turning crosswind.\u201d\u00a0 The controller\u2019s confidently crisp voice crackled from the speakers in the ceiling over my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cCherokee 8461R, roger.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t forget to check your altimeter and set it to the current reading.\u201d Marshall said quietly.\u00a0 \u201cRemember, when you turn final that farmer\u2019s cornfield to the south of the runway\u2019s just been plowed so you\u2019ll get a bit of a thermal out of it.\u00a0 Keep the nose down and concentrate on your airspeed and glide ratio.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGot it,\u201d I said confidently.<\/p>\n

I entered the traffic pattern and confirmed my altimeter read 1,500 feet.\u00a0 I was about 150 feet high so I nudged the nose down gently and eased down to my assigned altitude.<\/p>\n

\u201cCherokee 8461R, report crosswind leg,\u201d the tower controller ordered.<\/p>\n

\u201cCherokee 8461R, roger wilco.\u201d\u00a0 I looked off to my right and saw the ten-thousand-plus-foot runway glistening in the hot Texas afternoon.<\/p>\n

Marshall pointed towards the horizon and said, \u201cOK, now remember where your imaginary point is, (referred to as a key), so you\u2019ll start your right turn into your crosswind leg.\u00a0 If you turn too soon you\u2019ll be too high to execute your turn to final.\u00a0 If you wait too long you\u2019re taking up pattern airspace and the controller will probably ask you what the fuck your intentions are.\u00a0 That\u2019s an ATC phrase you don\u2019t want to hear.\u00a0 These guys in the tower are Air Force controllers but most of them are as sharp as the FAA controllers at the civilian towers.\u201d\u00a0 I suddenly wanted to know more about these civilian controllers, but decided to wait until I was not so busy flying an airplane before asking Marshall anything else.<\/p>\n

Once we were on the ground and had completed our post-flight briefing I decided to ask for a little more information about these civilian controllers.\u00a0 \u201cSo, these guys here at Bergstrom Air Force Base tower are Air Force, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRighto!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the guys, say in the tower at Mueller, the downtown Austin Airport, are civilians?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight again.\u00a0 You haven\u2019t had a chance to work with those guys yet since we\u2019re still just doing local Bergstrom to Bergstrom flights, but pretty soon we\u2019ll be doing some unknown airport training\u2014where you fly to and land at an airport you\u2019re not familiar with, like Waco or maybe Temple, and for sure, Austin\u2014and then you\u2019ll be dealing with civilians at those towers.\u00a0 For the most part they\u2019re pretty savvy, but they can be assholes too\u2014especially if they sense you\u2019re a low-time student pilot and don\u2019t know what the fuck you\u2019re doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, they\u2019ll throw some phraseology on you that you may not be familiar with, and when you give them a \u2018say again\u2019, or act like you don\u2019t know what they\u2019re asking, they\u2019ll ream you a new one.\u00a0 You gotta be pretty sharp on your airport procedures and ATC (air traffic control) phraseology.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, most of the civilians at those towers used to be military controllers?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm, not all of them.\u00a0 I hear the transition from military to civilian controller is pretty tough, and the testing is extremely complicated, but yeah, some of them are ex-military.\u00a0 Why?\u00a0 You think you might want to try for a job there when you get out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh no!\u00a0 I doubt that I\u2019d be able to get to first base with my experience.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you know they not only work up in the tower.\u00a0 There\u2019s civilian controllers that work in RAPCONs (Radar Approach Controls), Enroute Centers, and facilities they call Flight Service Stations.\u00a0 If you want I can try to get you some pamphlets from the FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) that detail the various jobs controllers do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, that would be great\u2014if it\u2019s not too much trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, I\u2019ll see what I can do.\u00a0 When I go on training missions in my F-4, I deal with all those guys since I\u2019m IFR rated (Instrument Flight Rules).\u00a0 We\u2019ll learn about them later on in your flight training.\u00a0 Even though you\u2019re only going to be VFR rated (Visual Flight Rules), you\u2019ll want to take advantage of a service that ATC Enroute Centers provide.\u00a0 It\u2019s called VFR Flight Following.\u00a0 We\u2019ll cover that later, but in short when you\u2019re flying VFR from one airport to another you can dial up an Enroute Center up on the radio and ask the controller to watch you on radar and warn you of any other traffic that may be in your line of flight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWow, that\u2019s cool!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah well, but for now let\u2019s just concentrate on your landings and stall procedures.\u00a0 We need to get you sharp enough to where I can trust you to solo the airplane.\u00a0 What do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u00a0 When do you think that\u2019s gonna happen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know.\u00a0 But when I think you\u2019re ready you\u2019ll be the first to know.\u201d<\/p>\n

For the next few days I continued with my flight training during my lunch hour at the air base and working at the shoe store in the evenings.\u00a0 In spite of my busy schedule, I kept thinking about what Marshall had said about the civilian controllers.\u00a0 By the end of the week I had made up my mind to get more information and also to discuss this with Kaz.\u00a0 As I sat down for a quick dinner as I was getting ready for a busy Friday evening at the shoe store I told her about my conversation with Marshall.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I thought you wanted to be a pilot,\u201d she said, quizzically.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I do.\u00a0 But from what Marshall tells me it\u2019s going to be a long and expensive road.\u00a0 I\u2019m thinking that maybe I should have some backup plan to carry us along after my discharge from the Air Force.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you think you are qualified for a job being an air controller?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u00a0 All this time I thought that to be a controller you had to have worked as one in the Air Force.\u00a0 But Marshall told me that while a lot of them are ex-military controllers, he knew of a few that are not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow they become controllers then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019s what I\u2019m not too sure about.\u00a0 I think they work for the government\u2014the Federal Aviation Administration\u2014so maybe there\u2019s some kind of test that you take, or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow you gonna find out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m thinking maybe I can call the control tower at Austin Mueller Airport.\u00a0 They might have some information.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood idea.\u00a0 Maybe they have number in phone book.\u00a0 I go get it!\u201d<\/p>\n

A few minutes later I found several phone numbers listed under the Austin Airport listing in the white pages.\u00a0 But of all of them, the one that caught my attention was the one that was listed as, \u201cFederal Aviation Administration \u2013 Austin Mueller Tower and Approach Control\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere\u2019s a number to the tower at Austin.\u00a0 Let me call it and see what happens.\u201d\u00a0 I told Kaz as I reached for the phone.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Marshall asked me to come to a full stop as I was rolling out of my fourth touch-and-go landing to the Georgetown, Texas airport.\u00a0 The field was uncontrolled, with no tower or air traffic control services.<\/p>\n

I had been in the air for over an hour executing stalls, turns to headings, and unusual attitudes in N8438R, a green and white Cherokee 140.\u00a0 As I applied brakes and stopped on the runway centerline, he suddenly opened the door and stepped out onto the starboard wing.<\/p>\n

\u201cOK son,\u201d he yelled over the prop wash, \u201cI want you to take this baby up and shoot me three more touch-and-go approaches.\u00a0 When you\u2019re done with the third one, don\u2019t forget to stop right here to pick me back up \u2018cause I don\u2019t feel like walking back to Bergstrom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want me to do those by myself?\u201d I asked, my heart suddenly jumping into my throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cYup!\u00a0 You\u2019ll notice that take-off speed will come much sooner once my fat ass is out of the plane, so don\u2019t let it shock you.\u00a0 Just do what you know how to do.\u00a0 Now hurry up, it\u2019s fucking chilly out here.\u201d<\/p>\n

With that, he slammed the door shut, motioning me to activate the lock, and jumped off the wing and on to the runway.\u00a0 He trotted over to the sloping grass hugging the narrow asphalt strip and vigorously waved his arms urging me to turn the airplane around and taxi to the end of the runway in preparation for take-off.<\/p>\n

I took a deep breath and pushed the throttle in while introducing full left rudder.\u00a0 The little plane responded gingerly and in a few seconds, I was headed in the opposite direction to the end of the five-thousand-foot strip.\u00a0 Reaching the marked over-run area, I reduced throttle and again carefully turned the aircraft around one hundred and eighty degrees.\u00a0 I looked down the runway and was barely able to pick Marshall out as he stood in the grass.<\/p>\n

Giving myself a few seconds to calm down, I lowered the flaps to fifteen degrees and slowly brought the engine up to take-off RPM.\u00a0 Releasing the brakes with my toes the plane seemed to leap forward with a burst of energy that I had not experienced before.\u00a0 Easing in a few inches of right rudder to counteract the craft\u2019s natural tendency to pull left of runway centerline, I began my takeoff roll.\u00a0 As promised, I glanced at the airspeed indicator and noticed that I had reached takeoff speed sooner than anticipated. \u00a0I eased the yoke gently back an inch or so, and the little Cherokee all but leaped off the runway.<\/p>\n

The altimeter needle was passing through a hundred feet as I saw Marshall out of the corner of my eye waving wildly.\u00a0 I sincerely hoped that he was waving at me ecstatically because I had actually gotten off the ground successfully, and not because I was on fire.<\/p>\n

I leveled off at pattern altitude, retracted the flaps, and turned crosswind setting the airplane up for a left-hand pattern approach.\u00a0 After executing three successful touch-and-go landings, I came to a full stop and taxied confidently back to retrieve Marshall.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoly shit, Frank!\u00a0 You did it!\u00a0 Those landings were flawless\u2014Christ almighty!!\u201d\u00a0 He literally jumped in, strapping on his shoulder harness and slamming and locking the door.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s do three or four more just to see if you weren\u2019t just being lucky!\u201d<\/p>\n

When we finally landed back at Bergstrom that afternoon, I had completed a total of ten takeoffs and landings. \u00a0It was Tuesday, September 10^{th<\/sup>, 1968\u2014and it was the seventh flight I had ever taken.\u00a0 I had managed to solo less than a month after my first flight, and after logging a grand total of 5.9 hours of flight time.<\/p>\n}

When we walked into the flight office, Marshall chopped a piece off the back of my fatigue uniform shirt and presented me with it and my solo certificate.\u00a0 There were five or six other students and instructors there and had it not be necessary for me to return to duty for the rest of the day, I would\u2019ve had a glass of the champagne that was being poured all around.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

My days and evenings at the shoe store were beginning to take their toll.\u00a0 My days\u2014Monday through Friday\u2014consisted of my waking up at 6AM and reporting to my squadron at 7:30AM.\u00a0 Unless we were on mobile deployment, I would spend the morning running my ten-man crew through countless mind-numbing set-up drills, or walking around our buildings checking for discarded cigarette butts or trash in general.\u00a0 We still took our generous breaks, but the trips to the cafeteria were also beginning to get monotonous, and I often found myself dozing off at the table while nursing a cup of caffeine-rich black coffee.\u00a0 When I was scheduled to fly during my two-hour lunch I tried to use my break-times to mentally review my flight procedures, as I\u2019d been told by my supervisor that I couldn\u2019t read my flight manuals during duty time.\u00a0 By the time I got to the shoe store at 5PM, I was almost completely exhausted\u2014having already put in a full day at the base plus at least one stressful flying hour during my lunch.<\/p>\n

Because I was expected to stay completely occupied while at the shoe store when I wasn\u2019t on the floor selling shoes, I was in the back taking inventory or in the display window re-arranging the shoes.\u00a0 The only time we were allowed to be off our feet was during the oft-interrupted twenty minutes we were given to gulp down our lunch.<\/p>\n

Although the store closed at 9PM, but I usually didn\u2019t make it out to my car any earlier than 10PM.\u00a0 Once the doors were locked we had to clean the floor of all the shoe boxes that had been left open\u2014some with only one shoe, others completely empty\u2014and restock them back in the stock room.\u00a0 Then, while the cashiers were tallying up the day\u2019s sales we were expected to tidy up and rearrange the in-store shoe displays, restock the purse poles, straighten up the customer seating area, and finally vacuum the floors.\u00a0 All this was done while still wearing a suit, tie, and dress shoes.<\/p>\n

Our apartment was only a couple of minutes away, and by the time I got home Kaz was usually already in bed\u2014also exhausted from putting in a twelve-hour day at the department store\u2019s buffet line.\u00a0 After a hot shower I all but collapsed into our bed and usually fell into a deep and mostly dreamless sleep.\u00a0 The worst sound in the world was the alarm clock shocking me out of bed at 6AM.<\/p>\n

Although I worked at the shoe store all day both Saturdays and Sundays (10AM until 8PM), I was able to sleep until 9AM.\u00a0 It doesn\u2019t sound like much of a bonus but I eagerly looked forward to my weekends just to be able to sleep in.<\/p>\n

One Saturday morning in late November I had gotten up a little earlier than usual because Kaz had been asked to work as cashier and I had to drive her up to the store.\u00a0 That week, what is described as a \u201cblue norther\u201d in Texas, had descended on Austin, and temperatures had dipped into the low twenties.\u00a0 That particular morning seemed extra cold\u2014the sky bleak and gray, and the north wind swirling madly around the large swimming pool in the center of the complex.<\/p>\n

Since our apartments were for adults only, when I got back from dropping Kaz off at work,\u00a0 I was surprised to see a small child, maybe three or four years old, riding a trike around the concrete walkways surrounding the pool.\u00a0 Because I had just thrown my dress overcoat over my pajamas when I drove Kaz up to the mall, I hurried back into my cozy apartment not paying a whole lot of attention to the little kid.<\/p>\n

While in the shower I wondered which of my neighbors had dared break the \u201cNo Kids\u201d rule so strictly enforced by our Nazi-like apartment manager.\u00a0 For sure she was probably already going through the residents\u2019 listing to figure out who would be most likely to have allowed a small grandchild or nephew to spend the night at our complex.<\/p>\n

After donning a newly dry-cleaned suit, I slipped into my brand new Johnston-Murphy cordovan wingtip shoes.\u00a0 Eddie had convinced me that no shoe salesman worth his salt (especially a wildly successful one) would ever be taken seriously if he didn\u2019t own at least one pair of Johnston-Murphy shoes.\u00a0 Paired with a nice pin-stripe, Brooks Brothers single breast wool-blend suit, you could almost guarantee yourself a ten-percent boost in sales just for looking snappy.<\/p>\n

I popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster and filled a mug with the last of the coffee Kaz had brewed prior to leaving.\u00a0 As I waited for the toaster I walked into the living room with my cup and drew the curtains slightly to see if any snow was coming down.\u00a0 No snow, but I did notice the little kid on his trike precariously close to the pool.\u00a0 Sitting there, little red sneakers resting on the pedals and dressed in an overstuffed blue parka and khaki pants, he seemed to be mesmerized by the ripples the stiff wind was creating on the surface of the water in the pool.<\/p>\n

Glancing over to the apartment manager\u2019s door, I wondered why she wasn\u2019t out there asking the kid who he belonged to.\u00a0 By now she should have already come bursting out of her door, her kinky gray-streaked permed hair mashed down under the olive-green safari hat she favored in cold weather, yelling for the kid to back away from the pool.<\/p>\n

The toaster popped and I walked back into the kitchen to butter it up and wash it down with the last dregs of my coffee.\u00a0 After rinsing my mug and placing it in the dishwasher I threw my navy-blue top coat over my shoulders and gave the apartment one last look.<\/p>\n

Pulling and locking the door behind me I lowered my head into the wind and began the short brisk walk out into the parking lot.\u00a0 I had gone about ten feet when the gentle and almost unperceivable sound of splashing water reached my ears.\u00a0 I stopped dead in my tracks.<\/p>\n

Without looking back I waited to see if there were any further sounds of splashing water.<\/p>\n

Nothing.<\/p>\n

I took another step or two, after which curiosity got the better of me.<\/p>\n

I turned around slowly and saw the red trike still sitting by the side of the pool.\u00a0 The kid was not on it and the handlebars were skewed to one side. \u00a0I looked over to the pool and saw what I was hoping not to see:\u00a0 The kid was in the water.<\/p>\n

The down-filled parka he was wearing was acting somewhat like a life preserver, allowing the kid\u2019s head and shoulders to remain above the water.\u00a0 He was bobbing up and down like a cork\u2014slowly drifting to the center of the pool\u2019s deep end.<\/p>\n

Looking around, panic beginning to swell in my chest, I was hoping to see someone but saw absolutely nothing.\u00a0 The kid and I were the only ones within the confines of our apartment complex and its pool.\u00a0 Focusing back, I saw that the kid was thrashing his feet ferociously in an instinctive effort to stay afloat.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t working; and he was sinking slowly\u2014the water now touching his chin.\u00a0 His eyes were locked on me\u2014opened wide and pleading.\u00a0 I looked around in all directions silently praying that someone besides me was seeing what was happening.\u00a0 No one.<\/p>\n

Finally deciding that there was nothing else to do but try to pull him out of the pool, I began to run.\u00a0 As I reached the edge of the deep end I realized that his wildly kicking legs had taken him to the farthest point of the deep water.\u00a0 He was too far for me to reach out with my arms, and without a ten-foot pole there was no way I could reach him.\u00a0 I hurriedly shrugged off my heavy wool topcoat and reached down to pull my shoes off.\u00a0 My right shoe pulled off easily as I grasped it by the heel while balancing on my left foot, but when I switched over to my left shoe it didn\u2019t come off quite as effortlessly.\u00a0 Realizing that the kid would be taking mouthfuls of water any second now I jerked violently at the stubborn shoe.\u00a0 It came off, but because of the force I had to use, instead of dropping to the ground, it instead flew up into the air landing about ten feet away from me and into the pool\u2019s frigid water.\u00a0 I watched dumbfounded as it sunk a couple of feet before it rose to float merrily on the surface of the freezing water.<\/p>\n

The water was now over the kid\u2019s chin and he was forced to throw his head back to keep his mouth from filling with water.<\/p>\n

I fumbled to unbutton my jacket, but because of the cold my fingers just couldn\u2019t grasp the small button.\u00a0 I pulled hard on the lower half of the jacket and saw the button fly off and join my left shoe in the water.\u00a0 It sank slowly to the bottom as my jacket dropped to the concrete.<\/p>\n

Reaching the knot on my tie I saw the kid\u2019s head go under.\u00a0 No time for the tie.<\/p>\n

Without further thought I leaped feet first into the pool.<\/p>\n

As I sunk down into the water I felt as if the soul had left my body.\u00a0 Instantly, every muscle in my body seemed to want to lock up and my heart felt as if it had completely stopped.\u00a0 I blinked to clear the air bubbles clinging to my eyes and tried to focus so I could find the kid.\u00a0 My feet touched the bottom of the ten-foot pool.<\/p>\n

Seeing the kid, I willed my legs to kick so I could close the distance between us.\u00a0 He was still kicking wildly and I saw one of his red sneakers drifting to the bottom.\u00a0 Because of the weight of my pants and shirt I was barely able to break to surface.\u00a0 I saw that I was still about four or five feet away from him so I began to kick my feet to try to close the gap between us.\u00a0 It was excruciatingly painful as my knees and hips insisted on trying to lock up, but with some effort I finally got within an arm\u2019s reach.<\/p>\n

As I reached out for him he suddenly sunk.\u00a0 I stopped pedaling and I sunk with him.\u00a0 Because I was heavier I sunk faster and found myself directly under him.\u00a0 Reaching out with an almost dead arm I grabbed the kid\u2019s bottom to stop his gradual descent.\u00a0 Instinctively, he stopped kicking.<\/p>\n

Gathering the strength that the cold water had not yet sapped from my body, I pushed up\u2014hoping that the effort would push the kid\u2019s head up out of the water.\u00a0 I looked up and saw that my efforts had taken both of us up to the surface.\u00a0 My face broke out of the water and I saw that the kid\u2019s mouth as it was in the process of sucking air.<\/p>\n

I let loose of his bottom and grabbed a handful of blue parka.\u00a0 I rolled over to my left side and pulled him up and on top of me with my right arm\u2014my right, weakly trying to side paddle to the edge of the pool.\u00a0 It took a supreme effort to keep the kid on top of me and his head above the water.<\/p>\n

After what seemed an abnormally long time, my left hand hit the concrete side of the pool.\u00a0 I put a death grip on the small gutter under the lip of the edge and pulled us in.\u00a0 Because I was losing strength quickly, I concentrated on pulling the kid to the concrete edge of the pool, hoping he\u2019d grip it and hold himself up.\u00a0 But I soon realized that he had lost all muscle control and his body was almost total dead weight.<\/p>\n

With a final gigantic effort, I hung on to the edge with my left hand and arm and swung the kid up and over my head.\u00a0 He landed with a wet squish on the rough surface of the pool\u2019s concrete edge and rolled slowly over.<\/p>\n

On his side, still slightly paralyzed by the extreme cold, he turned his head and looked at me with his little bloodshot eyes.\u00a0 I tried to tell him he was okay, but all my now trembling jaw would allow me to say was, \u201cYou\u2026K.\u201d<\/p>\n

Knowing he was now out of danger I began to concentrate on trying to pull myself out of the pool.\u00a0 As I tried to bring my legs up to swing them over the side I realized that they had both cramped up and would not cooperate with any command I gave them.\u00a0 I then tried to move my arms up and out, but found that they too were quickly going numb.\u00a0 I was still in ten feet of water, clinging helplessly to the edge and try as I might, I could not pull myself up and out.<\/p>\n

All feeling, from my neck down was swiftly disappearing\u2014replaced by a feeling of damp warmth.\u00a0 I needed to get out of this water but knew I was quickly losing the ability to do so.\u00a0 Any longer and the strength in my arms would leave and I would slip soundlessly into the freezing depth.<\/p>\n

I made another gigantic effort, and slid my left arm away from my body while still gripping the small gutter with my stiffening fingers.\u00a0 I concentrated all my strength on my left hand\u2019s fingers, hoping they were tightening up on the lip of the gutter.\u00a0 With another painful effort, I began to pull my body to the left\u2014sliding along the side of the pool, in the direction of the shallow water.<\/p>\n

After about three or four pulls I began to feel the smooth tile bottom touch my feet.\u00a0 I was making slow but steady progress.\u00a0 Suddenly, I thought I heard the sound of a door opening.<\/p>\n

I twisted my head to the right and strained to look over the edge toward the doors of the apartments facing the pool.\u00a0 Sure enough, one of them was open and an elderly lady, who I recognized as one of our resident tenants, was coming out.\u00a0 She was wearing a white chenille duster and furry aqua slippers.\u00a0 I called out and made some sort of gurgling sound while waving weakly with my left arm.<\/p>\n

To my horror, she completely ignored me\u2014instead, running awkwardly in the direction of the kid with one arm extended while trying to keep the front of her duster closed with the other.\u00a0 While I watched, she scooped up the child with her free arm, and without a word spun around and ran clumsily back toward her apartment\u2019s still open door.<\/p>\n

Just as she got to the door she stopped, turned, and looked directly at me.\u00a0 I waved again weakly, imploring her with my eyes to return and help me out.\u00a0 After four or five seconds, she turned, entered the apartment and slammed the door.<\/p>\n

Too cold and weak to spend precious energy wondering why she did what she did, I instead returned to my efforts to try to reach shallow water.<\/p>\n

Painfully and slowly pulling myself along the side of the pool I was finally able to stand on my feet, keeping my head above the surface of the water, and painfully plotted toward the semi-circular steps at the end of the pool.\u00a0 Reaching them, I found that I no longer had the strength to raise or bend my knees enough to bring my feet up, so I semi-collapsed and crawled up each step.<\/p>\n

Finally, I was out of the water and I rolled over and lay on my back on the cold concrete.\u00a0 My body felt like it was covered in an invisible and very heavy blanket of warm air.\u00a0 Knowing I needed to get back into my apartment I made yet another supreme effort and got on my knees.\u00a0 From there I crawled in the direction of my door.\u00a0 Several times I tried to get back on my feet but my legs did not want to support my body and once I tried to get upright a wave of dizziness washed over my head.<\/p>\n

When I reached my door, I lay by it for a few minutes trying to will the strength to reach into my pocket for my keys.\u00a0 After a while I retrieved my keys and reached up to insert the door key into the lock.\u00a0 It slipped in easily enough, but then I realized that my fingers had cramped so that I was unable to hold the key tight enough to turn the lock.<\/p>\n

Leaving the key in the lock, I brought my right hand down to my mouth and tried to blow whatever warm air I still had in my body onto it.\u00a0 While doing this I tried to flex my fingers to get them to move.\u00a0 It was insanely difficult to do so, and once they began to move I experienced intense pain in the joints of my fingers.<\/p>\n

After what seemed to be hours, I was able to hold the key tight enough and I heard the lock release.<\/p>\n

I pushed the door open and dragged myself in.\u00a0 I pushed the door closed with one of my feet and lay on the carpet completely exhausted.\u00a0 The heat was still on in the apartment and soon feeling began to seep back into my body.\u00a0 It was then I felt my cold clammy shirt stinging my skin and my soaked wool pants clinging icily to my legs.\u00a0 I needed to get out of my clothes.<\/p>\n

After pulling my tie off, I found that I was unable to feel the buttons on my shirt with enough strength to slip them through their respective holes.\u00a0 I reached down, pulled my shirt up out of my pants, and gripped the bottom with both hand.\u00a0 With another concentrated effort, I pulled the shirt in opposite directions with each hand and ripped the buttons clean off.\u00a0 I was now able to pull it over my shoulders.<\/p>\n

I was beginning to warm up sufficiently enough to where some of my muscle strength was returning so I sat up and ripped the sleeve cuffs off my arms.\u00a0 The effort made me a little dizzy and nauseous but soon I found that by supporting myself on the table lamp by the door I was able to get up on my feet.\u00a0 With an unsteady gait and by shuffling my feet, I was able to navigate myself in the direction of the bathroom.<\/p>\n

Kneeling by the tub I knew that I needed to get some warmth back into my body so I reached over and gripped the chrome faucet.\u00a0 I knew that the water that started pouring out was probably cold, but to my near frozen hands it felt insanely warm.<\/p>\n

I pushed the stopper lever and watched the tub begin to fill.\u00a0 I adjusted the temperature of the water to what I thought should be warm but it felt painfully hot.\u00a0 I knew I had to somehow force myself into what felt like blisteringly hot water.<\/p>\n

Supporting myself by gripping the hand basin I got up and removed the rest of my clothes.\u00a0 Carefully I climbed into the tub, and before I was able to sit in the water experienced excruciating painful cramps in the calf and thigh muscles of both legs.\u00a0 As the warm water rose over my tortured legs the cramps began to subside.<\/p>\n

I spent about thirty minutes in the tub, occasionally replacing the lukewarm water some that felt much hotter.\u00a0 The cramps disappeared and I began to feel normal.<\/p>\n

It was time to get out, dry myself off, and call work.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Baker\u2019s Shoes, how may I help you?\u201d\u00a0 It was the head cashier\u2014a heavy dark-skinned girl named Olivia.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes\u2014hey it\u2019s Frank.\u00a0 Is Mr. Sims around?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, he\u2019s here\u2014and he\u2019s been wondering where you are.\u00a0 Wanna talk to him?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

I heard Olivia tell Mr. Sims that it was Frank calling.<\/p>\n

\u201cFrank?\u00a0 Where are you?\u00a0 You need to be here now!\u00a0 We need to sell, sell, sell!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Sims, I may have to take the day off.\u00a0 I\u2026I\u2026well, I just got out of the apartment pool.\u00a0 A little kid fell in as I was leaving for work and I had to dive in and get him out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026Uh\u2026well that\u2019s unfortunate now, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir.\u00a0 I\u2019ll be in tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo Frank!\u00a0 You\u2019ll be in as soon as you dry off and get dressed.\u00a0 Won\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Sims\u2026did you hear what I said?\u00a0 I\u2019ve been in freezing water and I\u2019m chilled to the bone.\u00a0 I just got out of a hot tub but I\u2019m still having chills.\u00a0 I need the day off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmmm.\u00a0 Well son, I don\u2019t think you do.\u00a0 If what you say is true and the boy that you pulled out of the pool is OK, then there\u2019s no further reason for you to stay home.\u00a0 Stand by the heater, drink a hot cup of cocoa, and get in here.\u00a0 It\u2019s going to be a busy day and we need to make some money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no \u2018well\u2019 about it!\u201d\u00a0 I could hear him snapping his fingers.\u00a0 \u201cUnless you\u2019re on your way to the hospital you\u2019ll be here as soon as you can.\u201d<\/p>\n

I could see that there was no way for me to talk my way into a day off.\u00a0 I was getting angry but knew that if I kept talking to him I was going to end up telling him to go fuck himself and I\u2019d tell him I was going to quit.\u00a0 And, if I did that then for sure there would be no money for me to continue my flying lessons.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2026OK.\u00a0 But I ruined my suit so I\u2019ll have to go to the laundry and get the one that\u2019s there out to wear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, that\u2019s the spirit.\u00a0 Tell you what: to hurry you along I\u2019ll send Eddie to get your suit and he\u2019ll drive it over to your apartment.\u00a0 That way we\u2019ll cut your time in half.\u00a0 I\u2019ll tell the dry cleaners that you\u2019ll be sure to pay them when you take your lunch.\u00a0 How\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine, I\u2019ll be in as soon as Eddie gets here with my suit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWonderful!\u00a0 By the way, how old was the kid?<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know\u2026maybe three or four\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm\u2026don\u2019t you live in an adult only residence?\u201d<\/p>\n

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

\u201cBut there was a kid there that for some reason decided go swimming in freezing weather.\u00a0 Hmm, that\u2019s curious, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sound like you don\u2019t believe me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I believe and what I don\u2019t believe is not important here.\u00a0 What is important though is that you need to be in here selling.\u00a0 See you soon.\u201d\u00a0 And the line went dead.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Despite several attempts to contact the people whose grandchild, or nephew, almost caused us both to drown, no one ever answered the door.\u00a0 Since I was rarely home during the day, whenever I\u2019d come knocking in the late evening the shades remained drawn and the lights off.<\/p>\n

I eventually resorted to writing a letter in which I threatened to sue, and had it hand-delivered by the apartment manager.\u00a0 After about two months I came home one evening to find an envelope in the door with one-hundred and eighty-five dollars inside.\u00a0 This was the amount that I had referenced in my letter that I was demanding to get my ruined suit and shoes replaced.<\/p>\n

I never saw the kid again.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

When I called the air traffic control tower at the Austin Airport and inquired about a job, I was told that all hiring for jobs in the ATC field was done by the Federal Aviation Administration.\u00a0 The lady to whom I spoke gave me a number to the Civil Service Commission in Austin and said I\u2019d have to ask them about hiring since she had no idea what the procedure was.<\/p>\n

I wrote the number down and since it was already late Friday afternoon I decided to make the call on Monday.\u00a0 As it turned out, that call ended up being the most important and pivotal phone call of my life.<\/p>\n

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

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