Great Lakes, Illinois
Great Lakes Naval Training Command is just outside the city of Waukegan (much to the dismay of those with daughters). After a brief stint at the on base kindergarten (where my writing skills lagged behind my artistic when I 'signed' one of my creations "Ahoy Hook") I moved onto first grade at Mother of God Elementary School in Waukegan.
|
We landed at Great Lakes just in time for the onset of winter and for three boys used to running around nearly naked, it was a rude awakening and a severe trial for our Mom who was constantly dashing outside to capture us before we froze to death! Soon enough we, as small kids do, adapted and even learned the joys of sledding on this mysterious white, wet stuff called snow.
|
When I was old enough my parents enrolled us at Mother of God Catholic School in Waukegan. After running wild in Guam, perhaps Mom thought that the only thing which could save us was some rigorous discipline and the nuns at MOG were more than capable of handing it out! What was amazing is that despite this, I became close to one of the nuns there and years later when stationed at Great Lakes myself, went to the church there and visited her (yes, she was still there!). Thankfully, her memory of me was faded so I wasn't tossed out on my ear when I showed up there.
One adventure associated with MOG; we were out on the parking lot at recess (no fence around it then as in the photo to the left) when a ill mannered lout accosted one of the nuns. Within a short period of time this guy was buried under the bodies of 1st and 2nd graders who clawed, bit and kicked him to a fare thee well. He may have even been glad to see the police arrive on the scene to rescue him and provide him a safe place to stay.
One adventure associated with MOG; we were out on the parking lot at recess (no fence around it then as in the photo to the left) when a ill mannered lout accosted one of the nuns. Within a short period of time this guy was buried under the bodies of 1st and 2nd graders who clawed, bit and kicked him to a fare thee well. He may have even been glad to see the police arrive on the scene to rescue him and provide him a safe place to stay.
The highlight of any young kid's life occurred while we lived at Great Lakes; I learned to ride a bicycle! I can remember coming downstairs one Christmas morning to find a real Schwinn bicycle with my name on it (well, one for my twin Eddie as well). Even with the sissie wheels on it, it was glorious to behold and, like the image to the right, it was red! Keeping in mind what winters were like in the Chicago area, I was one ecstatic boy to see the Spring arrive and the roads to clear. Through that summer I rode every chance I had and soon was begging Dad to take off the training wheels. One day over breakfast he promised that when he got home, he would do so.
Never was any conquering hero watched for or any such lauded and welcomed with such noise as our Dad when he arrived home. He went upstairs to change then got his tools out and proceeded with no little pomp to remove the unwanted accouterments. The moment of truth had arrived; Eddie and I mounted our now freed steeds and rode forth to do great things and conquer the world. Dad had told us to ride once around the neighboring building (the housing on the base was similar to town homes, with four units together forming one building) and then come back to our back stoop where he and Mom were waiting. As we circled the building we exulted in our skill and daring, shouting at those lesser beings who still used sissie wheels or, perish the thought, rode tricycles. Then we turned the last corner and headed up to our door; what joy and pride I felt as I saw Dad standing there with his hands on his hips watching us. He looked pleased and that caused my hear to swell with pride and a sense of accomplishment. Scripture aptly states that "...pride goeth before a fall..." and mine was coming. You see, as we coasted to a stop in front of Dad, unlike Eddie I did not put my foot down and fell to the side with a crash once the bike stopped. Oh well, lesson learned, but despite the calamity I was riding like a big kid!
Never was any conquering hero watched for or any such lauded and welcomed with such noise as our Dad when he arrived home. He went upstairs to change then got his tools out and proceeded with no little pomp to remove the unwanted accouterments. The moment of truth had arrived; Eddie and I mounted our now freed steeds and rode forth to do great things and conquer the world. Dad had told us to ride once around the neighboring building (the housing on the base was similar to town homes, with four units together forming one building) and then come back to our back stoop where he and Mom were waiting. As we circled the building we exulted in our skill and daring, shouting at those lesser beings who still used sissie wheels or, perish the thought, rode tricycles. Then we turned the last corner and headed up to our door; what joy and pride I felt as I saw Dad standing there with his hands on his hips watching us. He looked pleased and that caused my hear to swell with pride and a sense of accomplishment. Scripture aptly states that "...pride goeth before a fall..." and mine was coming. You see, as we coasted to a stop in front of Dad, unlike Eddie I did not put my foot down and fell to the side with a crash once the bike stopped. Oh well, lesson learned, but despite the calamity I was riding like a big kid!
My Dad's rotation pushing boots was over and we were being transferred to Oceana Naval Air Station outside Virginia Beach, Virginia. Dad had gone ahead to make arrangements for housing (we were to live off base for the first time in my young life) and so it was up to Mom to shepherd us via bus to our new home. We were in the bus station in downtown Chicago (even years later when on boot-liberty, that place looked huge!) and I told Mom I needed to go to the bathroom. She pointed me up the escalator and told me not to talk to strangers while she stayed with the other kids. First time on an escalator by myself, but I managed it without the monster under the stairs (c'mon, you know it's there) getting me.
When I got to the top of the escalator, I saw a sign much like the one pictured here and, being a imaginative kid, wanted to see what the bathroom that was pretty (aka 'colored') looked like, so I marched right on inside. Imagine my shock at the sight that greeted me. An elderly man turned and looked at me, asking me, "Little fella, what you doing in here?" I told him that I'd come in to use the bathroom and wanted to come into the pretty one that was labeled 'colored' rather than the other one. He just chuckled and shook his head and told me that I'd better get on to that other bathroom, that I'd be more comfortable there. I asked him why there were two different bathrooms and why one was better than another and he remarked, "I pray you remember that young fella."
When I got to the top of the escalator, I saw a sign much like the one pictured here and, being a imaginative kid, wanted to see what the bathroom that was pretty (aka 'colored') looked like, so I marched right on inside. Imagine my shock at the sight that greeted me. An elderly man turned and looked at me, asking me, "Little fella, what you doing in here?" I told him that I'd come in to use the bathroom and wanted to come into the pretty one that was labeled 'colored' rather than the other one. He just chuckled and shook his head and told me that I'd better get on to that other bathroom, that I'd be more comfortable there. I asked him why there were two different bathrooms and why one was better than another and he remarked, "I pray you remember that young fella."