What's on your bucket list?

 I was never one to make up a bona fide “Bucket List,” then try to check it off. In actuality, I’ve done some neat things that fit really well into someone’s Bucket List, and I’m lucky enough to count them as things I’ve done that are out of the ordinary.

Living overseas when I was a kid afforded me some unique opportunities that not everyone gets to experience.

In Libya, not only getting the opportunity to live in such an incredibly different culture and country, but I got the chance to visit a Roman ruin called Sabrathah as part of a class trip. We were in the 3rd grade, but it was completely fascinating to me.

When we lived in Italy, Mom and Dad took Dave and me to visit Rome. We visited all the big sites:  the Colosseum, the Vatican, the Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, the Roman Forum, St. Peter’s Square, the Sistine Chapel, and more.

In 9th Grade, I hiked down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and spent a week with Greg Madonna and Dave Curtiss on the Havasupai Indian Reservation. Gorgeous tropical enclave in one of the multitude of canyons at the base of a number of spectacular waterfalls.

Learned to ski while we lived in Italy, and kept it up pretty consistently until we moved to Pennsylavania and started getting busy with flying, work and family. I did ski is some pretty great locations: Piancavallo, Italy; Kitzbuhel, Tirol, Austria; Mt Baker, Washington; Aspen, Snowmass, Vale, Copper Mountain in Colorado; Tahoe, and Heavenly, Mt. Charleston, Nevada; Squaw Valley, CA; Brian Head, UT; Terry Peak, SD; and Hidden Valley, in PA. Hidden Valley was were it all came off the rails: Laura and I took a long President’s Day Weekend trip to Hidden Valley. Stayed in a nice lodge. The skiing started okay, but by noon we were skiing on grass, which was quite scary.

At the Academy, I achieved two big dreams: 1.) I got five solo free-fall parachute jumps. I have a pretty good fear of heights, so I decided if I ever got the chance to parachute jump, I would, just to prove to myself I could. It was a lot of fun, but when I was named a Distinguished Graduate of the program, and offered another jump, I declined. 2.) I solo’d in a sail plane. That was pretty cool. Caught some big updrafts in the air above the Academy and tucked up next to the Rampart Range, which made it difficult to stay below 10,000 feet (we weren’t pressurized). Great place to learn the basics.

Kurt and I got our basic PADI Scuba Diving card one summer through the local community park. I had dived down in Puerto Rico as part of “Discovery Dives,” which were nothing more than putting gear on us, having us watch a video and then diving into the ocean and following an Instructor around for an hour or so, no matter where he went or how deep he dove. Pretty sure we got down well below 50-75 feet. In our official check out, we did all the pool work over a couple days in the Community Park, then we did and open water dive in a Quarry up near Westminster. It was a lot of fun!

Got the chance to fly a C-130 with a helicopter on board up to Reykjavik, Iceland, and spend a couple of days in a local spa. It was the Blue Lagoon, and was located on a vast geothermal power plant. Our rooms opened out onto the Spring, so you could walk right out the door, and dip onto the super-warm geothermal springs and soak for hours.

When Kurt was in Scouts, I took him and about six other kids to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico, and spent 12 days backpacking through the NM wilderness. We covered 76 miles and climbed to the top of a 12,000’ Mt. Baldy. It was a blast!

I’ve seen Williamsburg and Jamestown, Old Faithful in Yellowstone, and Yosemite. Visited Valley Forge Yorktown, Gettysburg, New Market, Petersburg and Antietam battlefields, as well as Normandy Beach and Point du Hoc. In College I spent a week in Bermuda for Spring Break, riding around the islands on a moped, paying for expensive drinks and just being a regular college student (Florida is a much cheaper way to go!). Hiked up Diamondhead at dawn to watch the sunrise (Air Force trip, so it was just a couple of guys on the crew). Was deported twice from Qatar. That was pretty bizarre.

Got to tour Ireland with Laura and Jill; as well as bits of France and London with Laura, Kara, Jill and Kurt.

The one goal I haven’t achieved yet is getting my private pilot’s license. I’ve wanted to do that since I was a kid, but life always seemed to come up with distractions that made my time and money much more attractive to be spent elsewhere. Work, family, etc. I plan on getting it done, I just have to get a clear spot in my schedule with good weather, and a good instructor.

One day, I really want to be able to say, “Today, I am a pilot.”

Rubbing elbows with the rich and famous

 My brushes with celebrity have been few and far between. Some people thrive on that stuff, but I feel a bit more circumspect about it. People are people. Celebrities just get noticed for doing something other people do all the time.

Having said that, my most significant brush with famous people happened on a Squadron trip our Junior year at the Academy. We were on our way to Myrtle Beach AFB, SC, and flew from Colorado Springs to Andrews AFB, MD, and had a follow-on flight to Myrtle Beach.

While waiting at the terminal, this big British airliner rolls up, parks outside the windows, and all kinds of activity kicked off. One of those mobile stairs rolls up, then a red carpet, then guys start setting up rope lines. Someone finally comes in and tells us Prince Charles just arrived and he’s willing to walk the rope line if we want to go out and see him. So of course we do.

I was playing rugby at the time, and had just gotten kicked in the face while reaching down to pick up a loose ball. Beautiful black eye still since it had happened in the middle of the previous week during practice.

I think there were maybe 50 of us total, so the rope line was one-deep. As Prince Charles approached, he spotted my black eye and struck up a quick conversation about how I got it, what kind of sport. Rugby? really? British Rugby? (is there any other kind? I didn’t know about Australian Rules football at the time). We actually shook hands and then he was off down the rest of the line. Boom!

In the desert in 2004, my crew picked up Rob Schneider and Wayne Newton at the end of a long day visiting the troops in Baghdad. Wayne looked beat to hell, but Rob (“Deuce Bigalow, Male Prostitute”) sat up on the flight deck with us and cracked jokes for the entire hour and a half from Baghdad to Kuwait, where they were spending the night. He was hysterical! Very fun interlude.

Another notable meet was riding a ski lift at Lake Tahoe with comedian Buddy Hackett. Looks goofy, but he was quite charming, and it was an enjoyable 20 minute conversation. (Btw, the guy was a very good skier.)

Finally, was able to play 9 holes with Chi-Chi Rodrigues, on one of our Coronet Oak deployments to Puerto Rico. That was a thrill because he was one of my dad’s favorite pro golfers, and I remember watching him in the Tour. He was very nice and very entertaining.

Growing up with Mom

 My Mom was absolutely the best Mom a kid in the 60’s could possibly have. She was loving, caring, nurturing, smart, curious, adventurous… the list goes on and on.

Winnefred Lorean “Loree” Elder was born in Weatherford, Texas, on 27 February, 1939. She was the third of six sisters born to Cora Jo Robeson and Frank H. Elder. Her sisters were Carolyn, Bonnie, Cora Jo (Jocie), Virginia (Gina), and Lilli Sue (Susie).

Growing up she moved a couple times between Parker County, Texas, and Washington State. Grampa Frank served in the Navy during World War II as first a gunner on PBYs in the Aleutian Islands, and then as maintenance (From what I hear from my cousin Dennis, Frank did not like flying). I’m not sure of the sequence of events, but I believe when he got out of the service, his family stayed north of Burlington so he could use his GI bill and go to college. They then moved to Texas. At some point, after more education, he became a teacher, a girls basketball coach, and the Principal at Brock High School, where my Mom went to school.

The story goes that her cousin, Olin Howard, was a good friend of my Dad’s in Pilot Training at Laredo, Texas. He got them together to go to a dance at the base, so Dad drove to Brock, picked her up, drove back to Laredo (6-1/2 hours away), then drove her home. He spent the night in his car out front of her house. Grampa’s first glimpse of Dad was his feet sticking out the window. He went back to Laredo and began a letter exchange (from what I can learn from people who Mom talked to, only 4-5 back and forths), until he invited her to come to Las Vegas, which was his new training base for the F-100, to get married.  And she did!

My recollections those first couple years are pretty sparse, but I remember thinking she was always very active with us. Of course how could you not be, with two boys for 5 years, and then twin girls suddenly adding to the mix? It was either be overwhelmed or take charge. It felt like dad was gone a lot, so it was the five of us a lot of the time, especially once he left for Vietnam.

Somehow she moved me and Dave up to Washington, set up a household and got me into school. I think I was in 1st grade, and went to Fidalgo Elementary School, just up the road from our beach. I loved it. Our cousins Mike and Lane were  just a couple blocks away, and our older cousins, Kenny, Becky, Rick and Kathy were probably two houses down, on the hill abouve their Grandparents, Mr. & Mrs. Holland. So there were 3-4 houses we just rotated through. Mom was pretty strict, but no overly so. We had the length of the beach to roam around without issue, and lots of woods to play in. We probably went to Grandma and Grampa Elder’s house in Anacortes, and then Burlington ( when they moved) at least once a week, or they came to see us.

Once Dad came home we moved back to California for him to train up as an Instructor Pilot. The girls showed up about nine months later. That was wild, having twin sisters show up. Lots of help from the neighbors, and we immediately moved off base into a bigger house. I remember starting 3rd grade in Victorville at a new school that I walked to. Then we received orders to Libya, so Mom packed us up and moved us up to Washington for a couple months. 

Getting up to Washington, we had Dad with us. When it came time to leave for Wheelus, it was just her and four kids, all under 10. Somehow she pulled it off, including a stop in Minneapolis and McGuire AFB, to tend to two sick daughters.

Wheelus and Aviano were the places that I really bonded with my Mom. She carted us around to school and sports activities, was my Den Mother in scouts, took us swimming, made do with Commissary fare that had been shipped from Europe or the States and was usually stale, out of date, or otherwise suspect. I think the canned spinach, brussel sprouts, beans and peas during this time really turned me off to vegetables. Somehow we managed: probably with the help of a tex-mex background that could make ground beef taste good no matter what the meal was.

Back in the States meant back to Washington while dad went “Remote” to Korea for a year. We were there my 7th and most of my 8th grade year. More time with family, which I’m sure took a lot of pressure off her. Then it was to Las Vegas, Nevada, where I spent the last half of 8th through part of 11th grade. We lived on base at Nellis AFB, and had a lot of adventures, including boating on Lake Meade, and camping in Colorado in our Shasta pull-behind. She was very supportive of me doing things like skiing with the HS Ski club, playing sports both on base and at school. She pretty much taught me to drive. Dad would get so upset trying to teach me to drive a stick shift, that I’m sure Mom stepped in to keep the peace and things on track.

She was also my #1 confidant as I went through those chaotic HS years. We spent lots of time talking about things like grades, girls, where I wanted to go to college, dealing with Dad, etc. I don’t remember too many things I wanted to do that she didn’t support, and always thought she and Shirley Partridge (The Partrige Family TV show) were like sisters. Very even keeled.

Naturally I did my share of getting in trouble. She spent a lot of time being the only parent to four diverse children, and I think she handled it pretty damn well. Everyone went to college, Got jobs, got married, and all have had good lives. As a parent, what more can you ask for?

As a child, because of her, we got the love, nurturing and support we needed to grow and thrive in a very turbulent and adventure-filled world.

Vivere la bella vita in Italia!

 Living in Italy was a huge part of growing up for me. We did a lot and shared a lot in those 2-1/2 years, so much so that it always seems like four years until you actually do the math.

We basically showed up in Aviano, Italy as Air Force refugees, chased out of Wheelus Air Force Base by Gahadaffi’s takeover in Libya. When we arrived we had no place to stay, so we lived in a high-rise apartment complex in downtown Aviano for probably two months until Mom and Dad found a house to rent in a little town called San Giovanni de Polcinego. We lived in a three story single house on the road to Pordenone.

Aviano is tucked up against the mountains in northeastern Italy. The weather was generally great all year around, but close enough to a lot of attractions. We could go skiing in the winter in a place called Piancavallo. Venice and beaches were only an hour or two away. (I only went to Venice to go to the Airport, but we did go to the beach).

We lived there for half of my 4th, and all of 5th and 6th grades. Our school was on the Air Force base, so we had to ride a bus. They didn’t have orange school buses, or the white hospital buses we rode at Wheelus. Instead a big touring bus made the rounds, stopping right out side our driveway to pick us up. Big plush greyhound bus seats, it was a fun way to ride to school.

I don’t remember much about 4th grade, other than the teacher really believed in reading, and had this one section of the room sectioned off as a reading section. She had placed plastic as a roof over a book case all the way to the wall, and had fish hanging from it.  She called it her reading cafe, and you had to reserve your time in it during lunch or free periods. 

Aviano was was where I really had my first foreign language classes. The DoD schools taught you the local language as part of the curriculum. That year we had a young girl called Senorita Gianinni.  In 5th and 6th we moved to a different set of builidngs and of course the teachers changed. Our Italian teacher was a Senora….

My 5th and 6th grade teacher was a Mr. Lorenzeti. Older gentleman with a mustache and beard. I aways considered him a hardass who made my life hard, but looking back I was probably a handful. I was definitely at the top of the class academically, and probably had more than a little ADD. I was a big talker in class, and for a while in 6th grade, I had a desk out in the coat room. Not that I minded much after the 1st day; it gave me more time to read.

Aviano is where I started playing football. I signed up to join the youth league. We practiced after school a couple nights a week out at the athletic fields next to the flight line. I would carry my pads to school, change in the bathrooms, then ride the activity bus from school. Dad would come pick me up after he finished work. We’d play our games on Saturday mornings. That was lots of fun. I also played baseball in the summer, but I’m not sure how that worked, and don’t remember much except being in a tournament during a week’s vacation at the beach, and Dad driving me to the game and back.  

That was the time Susan wandered off from Mom. No cell phones back then, so we didn’t find out till we got back, mid afternoon. The girls had been going to a local church nursery school and learning to be very good Italian speakers through immersion. So, when Susan disappeared, Mom was frantic and called the local Carbineri asking if anyone had found a lost American girl. “No, we only have this little Italian girl.”  Mom looked some more and then thought she better check again with the police. She decided to go check the girl out. Sure enough, It was Susan chatting away with the friendly policemen licking on ice cream cones.

We had a couple of families we were friends with. None lived nearby, but the Dads were all acquainted from work. My Dad ran the bombing range that all the air crews from across Europe came to practice live bombing. The Smith’s dad was a pilot, but not sure what he did at Aviano. Norm Lasher was an Intel guy. We took turns going to each other’s houses and hanging out. I think the last winter we were there, all three families piled in our cars and drove up to Austria and spent a week at a ski school/resort in Kitzbuhl, Austria. We had a blast! We started from zero and by the end of the week we were taking a tram up to the highest of the runs and skiing down. It felt like quite an accomplishment.

I kept skiing all through High School, college and until I came to Pennsylvania. Laura skis also, so we skied in both South Dakota and New York.  However, once we got up here, I found the conditions way too dangerous for my liking, and it just fell off my radar as something to keep up with. Probably should have got the kids snowboarding, but it seems life just got too busy.

We took one of the all time great vacations while we were in Italy. Mom and Dad took Dave and I to Rome. I think Grandma Branby came over for a visit, so we all took the train from Venice down to Rome and spent about a week. Saw all the things! Vatican City, the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Seven Hills, etc. Very fun!

We moved back to the States the Summer after 6th grade. Dad’s next job was back to flying in a Squadron, only this time in Korea. That guy got around! So we moved back to the Washington house for about a year and a half, and came back to American society, including the drama of the ‘1972 Olympics and Watergate.

5th Grade

Growing up a Vagabond

 We moved a lot. So much so, that I thought everybody did, until I got into Junior High School in Anacortes, and I realized all the people I knew had all gone to school with each other since Kindergarten, and were life long friends. Who had life-long friends? Didn’t everybody have to start over making friends, every other year? That’s what I did.

Moving involved a whole litany  of events for military brats. There was the realizing you were leaving your comfortable relationships, and lots of curiosity and trepidation about this new, unknown place.

What was the base like?
What was the school like?
What were the kids like?
Where would we live?
Was there anything to do?
Would we make friends?

Then there was the packing. We got very familiar with Atlas and Mayflower Van Lines. The routine of putting numbers on all the pieces of furniture and boxes. Some places had stickers. Dad would pay us a nickle at the other end to go find the stickers placed in all the obscure places on furniture and remove them, taking to him as proof. Some you didn’t find until the next move.

Would the furniture you had make it to your next destination? There were horror stories we heard about moving trucks catching fire enroute and a family having nothing when they got to their next duty station. I think Mom was most afraid of that.

Would the furniture be broken? Or something stolen? We had a car shipped to Libya, and it arrived without the radio. Remarkably through all the moves, the vast majority of stuff Mom and Dad picked up made it intact, including some really valuable things like a sterling tea service, a globe bar, marble telephone, various pictures, and my favorite, the Tantalus.

What to do with it now that Mom & Dad are gone is the big question. All of us kids have our own houses full of our own stuff. As nice as theirs’ is, how do you incorporate it in your already-full house?

In all, we moved:

- 1961, George AFB, CA - RAF Bentwaters, UK (Dave was born)
- 1964, RAF Bentwaters, UK - George AFB, CA
   — short TDY to Davis-Monthan AF, AZ (lasted probably 6-9 weeks)
- 1965, George AFB, CA - Anacortes, WA (Dad went to Vietnam, and I’m pretty sure dependents couldn’t live on base without their Sponsor back then)
- 1966, Anacortes, WA - George AFB (Girls were born)
- 1969, George AFB, CA - Wheelus AFB, (Tripoli, Libya) (Libya had a coup d’etat,  so we were forced to leave early)
- 1970, Wheelus AFB, Tripoli, Libya - Aviano AFB, Italy
- 1972, Aviano AFB, Italy - Anacortes, WA (Dad went to Korea for a year)
- 1973, Anacortes, WA to Nellis AFB, (Las Vegas, NV)
- 1977, Nellis AFB, NV, to Luke AFB, AZ (Litchfield Park)
- 1978, College (US Air Force Academy for me).

Places I’ve lived

 I’ve been fortunate enough to live in a bunch of different places. My Dad was an Air Force fighter pilot, and there was a lot of moving around back then. I would say that before I graduated High School, we moved an average of every two years.

The fist place I live was in a apartment somewhere close to George Air Force Base, just outside of Victorville, California. Obviously I have no memory of it, but a friend of my Mom’s mentioned it recently, because they lived in the same complex.

Then we moved to RAF Bentwaters, in England, where my brother Dave was born. I don’t remember too much about that, other than it was on base housing, with the backyard up against a fence on the flightline. I remember the engine noise as they did engine runs, or got ready to take off. The F-100s had a very distinct sound.

When we moved back to the States, we moved to George AFB again, where Dad flew F-4s. That lasted about a year, then Dad went to Vietnam with the 433rd Tactical Fighter Squadron, and we moved up to Anacortes, Washington, into the house on the beach that Mom & Dad bought from Ken and Carolyn. We were there from 2nd half of Kindergarten, to the first half of first grade. Then it was back to George AFB again.

After the girls arrived, Mom & Dad bought a house in Victorville. It was white with gray brick or gray bottom trim. Dad put in an entire sprinkler system, front and back. Pretty sure it took most of the summer to install.

In 1969, Dad was assigned to Wheelus AFB, Libya. So we pack up, sold the house in Victorville, and moved across the Atlantic to Africa. We lived on base there, in a standard military housing building, probably a duplex, right across from the high school. There was desert behind the house that went several hundred yards to the sea. The only beach with sand and access was further up the road in a different housing area. We could go swimming there in the summer.

That lasted almost a year, until Libya had a coup d’etat, and the US decided to pull out of the base. We packed up again, and moved to Aviano, Italy, where my folks found a house in the town of San Giovanni d’Polcenego. Aviano had no base housing, so everyone eventually had to find a place, “on the economy” to live. Ours was the top two floors of a 3 story house. (the bottom was reserved for the owners, who were never there.) It backed up to grape fields, and across the street was a bread bakery shop and a butcher shop. The girls went to Azelo, the local church pre-school, and could speak Italian better than English. School was on Aviano at the Department of Defense Schools, so we rode to school and back every day on a big touring bus. Very strange. but very luxurious.

This was a fun house. Marble floors, everyone but the girls had their own rooms. Mine was the top right with the balcony. You can imagine I loved that.

These are the fabled marble steps up to our part of the house. Susan rolled a bowling ball down them one day, and cracked them all. A not too happy Dad had to replace them all.

When we came back from Italy, Dad was assigned to a remote tour in Korea for a year, so we headed back up to Anacortes, and our house on the beach. By then I was starting 7th grade, was playing sports in the band, and had friends from around the island. My cousins, Kenny, Becky, Rick and Kathy Holland were doing things like going to college, getting married, getting jobs, and going off to the US Coast Guard. Mike and Lane Crawford lived up the hill, and Dennis and Loree DeVries lived a bike’s ride away, all on Fidalgo Island.

When Dad came home, we moved to Las Vegas, Nevada, and Nellis AFB. We lived in base housing again, at the top of the housing area on officer’s hill. 6b Hogenmiller Circle. Typical block concrete base housing duplex. Painted yellow/beige. No real yard per se, just a metal carport we would climb on top of and throw water balloons from.

The last place we lived before I left for college was 345 Trontera Circle, Litchfield Park, Arizona. Nice ranch house in a planned community just outside Glendale. Had a golf course and resort called the Wigwam in it. Palm trees on all the streets, and a small lake across the road from our house. It was a nice house: Dad shocked all of us one day by announcing he was having an in-ground pool installed. It was glorious!

After college was a series of apartments and Bachelor Officer’s Quarters until I reached my first assignment at Ellsworth AFB, in Rapid City, South Dakota. I initially started out with an apartment shared with Kent Sjolund, a guy I went through Nav School and B-52 training with. But after I met Laura, I discovered that she could not take Kent’s smoking or even the smell of smoking (the apartment wreaked!), and after a couple of months of dating, we decided to move in together, because I was always over there anyway.

She lived in this nice community of homes in a Quadplex on Serendipity Lane. we were on the bottom floor on the right. After she left for the Pentagon, I stayed on there until I left for Radar Navigator/Bombardier upgrade, enroute to Griffiss AFB, in Rome New York.

The first year I was at Griffiss, I lived in a townhouse in Utica, just down the road. But after we got married and it looked like Laura was going to get the Joint Assignment to the Rome Air Development Center at the base, we started looking for houses. We found a nice 3 bedroom ranch with a big kitchen and living room on a pretty decent piece of property at 6222 Lorena Road, in Rome, NY.

It was a new build, so we had some say in the last couple of things that were done prior to finishing. I remember visiting and thinking how quiet the neighborhood was. What we didn’t realize was that we were on the extended flight path from the Griffiss runway, and when a heavy weight B-52 took off, it stayed low and loud for a long while. We got to enjoy the sounds of freedom pretty much every weekday morning and late afternoon. It was only really noticeable during the take offs. When they came back into the pattern at the end of a mission, they were pretty lightweight and they could go around for hours and we wouldn’t notice.

In 1990, Laura and I decided to leave Active Duty, primarily because our ability to get more joint assignments was quickly diminishing.  As Laura rose in rank, her assignments would focus on Command positions and very limited weather opportunities, while my career path in B-52s would be at schools, bases and headquarters assignments. The chance the two of us could flow together was very slim back then. With Jill on the way, it just seemed right to try something different, so we came home to Zelienople.

Once we got here, I had a job in Canonsburg and was flying with the Reserves, we needed to find a place to live. Laura made the astute observation that while living in the South Hills might work well for where I worked now, I could get anywhere from Zelienople now that I-79 and I-279 were open. So we decided to look in town, and found 115 Wayne Avenue, down the street and two left turns from her parents house. It was a nice house, and about the same value for the house we sold in New York, so no big stretch on the income.

The idea was to stay in the house about 5 years, then move into something different as the kids grew in size and number. That never quite happened. A.) We loved the location - in town, on a dead-end street, quiet neighborhood, bordering the park and walkable close to Main Street. B.) everytime I thought about moving, something else put our income in jeopardy. I got laid off from Cooper Power Systems; Spectrum Engineers ran into financial challenges, so I joined US Airways. Then US Airways was going to go out of business, get bought out by United, the Flight Attendants were going to go on strike, etc. And then I started deploying…

Eventually, the kids all grew up and out and the house is kind of the right size again. We have slowly started to upgrade it: New furnace/Air Conditioning; new water heater, new roof.  My goal: new front porch, new landscaping, new kitchen and baths. We still love the location. Now to make the house the dream place we want to come home to from our travels!