Notes to my 20-year old self

 A question pops up every now and then: “If you had the chance to go back and meet your 20-year old self, what advice would you give him?”  I think this is an interesting question.

In 1980 I was a Junior in college. I was 100% focused on graduating, becoming an Air Force Navigator, flying for as long as possible, seeing the world, and convinced I would not see the year 2000.

Looking back from 42 years later, I think it all worked out pretty well. It did not work out EXACTLY the way I hoped at age 20, but I think it was even better than I could have dreamed.

I did graduate. My eyesight stayed okay enough that I got the Navigator slot and went to Navigator Training at Mather AFB, outside Sacramento, California. I graduated from that and, while I didn’t get the F-4 or F-111 I wanted, I got a great crew airplane, the B-52. That plane led me to Ellsworth AFB, SD where I met Laura. Beat that!

I wanted to see the world, and while the B-52 didn’t offer much of that, I did get to Spain.  But later on…. I ended up on the C-130 and I’ve seen a good portion of five continents.

On the personal side, I basically knew from way back I wanted to find the one right woman who wanted me, get the house, settle down and build a family. That too, worked out better than I imagined.

So what would I go back and tell that kid, still two years from college graduation,  punching way above his weight? “Trust your gut, you’re gonna do great!”

Follow your dreams - go forth with purpose, but live like Gumby. Be flexible! Life is hard and adulting is harder. You don’t get everything you want, but sometimes (most of the time) you get exactly what you need. When you come to a fork in the road, take it; not every path will be straight. Whatever you do (and this is crucial), push yourself to keep moving forward. The worst thing you can do is sit and spin.

Most importantly, enjoy the ride!

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.”

Favorite TV shows, then and now

 I’ve always liked Television. I think my generation pretty much grew up on it. We had little black & white sets when we lived in England, and then when we came back to the states, my parents started getting the console TVs, then the Sony Trinitrons, etc.

The first couple shows I remember was Branded, with Chuck Conner, and Combat. Branded was about a court-martialed Calvary officer trying to prove his innocence. Combat was about a squad of infantry during WWII. 12 O’clock High was terrific - all about a B-17 bomber group stationed in England.

The Wonderful World of Disney was always on Sunday nights.

In high school it was the Partrige Family, Six Million Dollar Man, and Sunday Night Mystery Movies, with McCloud, Columbo, and McMillan & Wife. This is where I got hooked on Saturday Night Live. Been an avid, if not always happy, watcher ever since.

In the 80s, Call to Glory, which reminded me of my life growing up in the family of a fighter pilot, usually in the desert. St. Elsewhere, Hill Street Blues, Twin Peaks, Quantum Leap. When I met Laura, she introduced me to CBS Sunday Morning, with Charles Kuralt. It remains one of our strongest rituals.

In the 90s- 2000s: Homefront, Hill Street Blues, and Sports Night. The West Wing. Aaron Sorkin is a master of the walk & talk, and recreating the White House we all want. Friday Night Lights - great storytelling and camera work.

Since streaming came into being, we can revisit all the shows we missed, or didn’t think were that great at the time. I like a lot of the British police shows. They are quirky and more cereberal than just shoot ‘em up. Endeavor, Inspector Morse, Midsomer Murders, Hamish MacBeth. Downton Abbey caught me by surprise.

Lately we’ve started watching Ted Lasso, Hart of Dixie, and Gilmore Girls… Light, witty and well written.

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.

What my grandparents were like

 One of the benefits of being in a military family growing up was the opportunity to travel all over the world. The drawback of getting the chance to live in lots of different places across the globe was the lack of contact with extended family.

Because we moved home to Anacortes while my Dad was overseas in Vietnam and Korea, I actually got to know my Mom’s side of the family fairly well. Unfortunately, not so much on my Dad’s side.

My Dad’s father, Gerhard Ambrotious Branby, passed away 28 March, 1955, exactly 5 years before I was born. Born on 12 April, 1900, he was just shy of 55 when he passed. His parents were Ole Olav Olavsson Brandby, and Helga K. Strand.

From what I know, he had lived with Type I Diabetes most of his adult life. It didn’t prevent him from having and raising six strong kids, but I don’t think he worked steady jobs. My dad wrote about his father thusly:

“Dad was a diabetic and a serious one. That was one stigma that hung over the entire family as we witnessed his twice daily insulin injections, and every once in a while he would lapse into a coma and scare us all half to death. But, somehow he seemed to survive and he would be right back at it again. He was a man of ‘True Grit.’ He could have given up anytime but he was too stubborn… My Dad went to work for the WPA (Works Progress Administration - a government sponsored program that put in all the sewer systems in the town of Glenwood). I believe he made somewhere in the neighborhood of $45 a month.”

About his mother, Esther Lovina Helland (4 January, 1900 - 31 Jan 1990), he wrote:

“Mother was a truly magnificent woman. She struggled through raising six kids on a meager budget. With help from the farm: butter, eggs, meat etc. and some monthly support from “Direct Relief,” a Depression program, we all ate and subsisted fairly well.

Mom made clothes, we always had a garden, baked all our own bread and all in all never really suffered.”

Living mostly overseas, or in Washington growing up, I don’t remember meeting her too many times, though there were a couple times she came to see us, or we went to Minnesota. My cousins remember her quite fondly, and I do regret that we didn’t get to know her better. Her parents were Mikkel Eriksen Helland and Ingaborg Knutsdatter Hoverud.

Being stationed on the west coast, or actually living up in Anacortes while my Dad was in Vietnam, or stationed in Korea, we spent a lot of time with my Mom’s parents. They also came and visited us once or twice, the last being when we lived in Las Vegas; so it felt like we were regular members of the same family.

My Grandmother, Cora Jo Robeson, was born in Bogota, Tennessee, on 27 January, 1911. Her parents were Hawkins Eugene Robeson and Roberta ‘Bertie’ Lane Strachn.

By the time I remember her, after we came back from England and while my Dad was deployed in 1965-1966, she would have been about 54 or so. Looking back she seemed old, with grey hair already, and a very soft Texas drawl. They lived in Burlington in a little yellow house, and we would go visit them a lot. While she seemed very stern to me (and had no problem smacking my behind when I got out of hand), they also had this one magic drawer in the kitchen that had toys in it, just waiting for us to come visit.

She came to my college graduation, and one of my favorite pictures is the two of us after the Graduation parade.

My grandfather, Frank Henry Elder, was born on 2 May, 1906, in Cottle County, Texas. His parents were Francis Marion Elder, and Bethenia ‘Bettie’ Nance.

Not sure how or when they met, but this picture must have been taken at their 50th Anniversary.

My Aunt Jocie put together some memories of her Dad, and include the following:

“My knowledge of daddy’s (Frank Henry Elder) story began with his mother (Bettie Nance Elder) passed away. He was only five years old but he treasured the love she gave him and mentioned her frequently throughout his life. When she died, he and dad’s younger sister (Lilli Mae Elder-Ledbetter) were sent away to live with relatives until his father (Francis Marion Elder) remarried. His new wife (Rhoda Gray Bledsoe), had a son (John William Bledsoe) who was near daddy’s age. In the course of time, they had a daughter (Dorothy Rosie Lee Elder) together so dad eventually had two sisters.

Apparently, there was a lot of competition between the two boys. For whatever reason dad felt very much the step child. I only saw his step mother one time when I was about 10 years old. She seemed old, sullen and reeked with the smell of chewing tobacco.

Apparently beatings were common place because when he was a young man, his step mother went into another rage and started beating him again. Dad said that he took the stick away from her, broke it in half and ran away from home, hiding in the mountains (I don’t know what mountains, because they lived in Texas) but dad was totally alone

Time marched on and somehow dad found a way to pay for college, earning his teaching certificate as a science and math teacher (eventually earning a Masters’ Degree in Science). Dad’s first teaching positon was in Pooleville, Texas, where he met and fell in love with my mother, Cora Jo Robeson.

Dad’s ultimate educational goal was to earn his doctoral degree but while he was working to complete it, life intervened and momma had given birth to their 6th daughter. She was so terrible anemic and physically run down that he was needed at home to care and supervise the family.

Dad was a valiant man, who was dedicated to his wife and family so he gave up his career dream to take care of momma and my two little sisters and I.”

In the midst of that education, he served in WWII, station in the Aleutian Islands with the Navy. When he came home, he went to school (possible with the GI Bill?), earned another degree, then moved his family back to Texas to work as a Principal in Brock, Texas.

“Cora Jo Robeson was always Dad’s sweetheart. Every single Mother’s Day he gave her a corsage with 6 red roses in it. He said there was one red rose for each daughter she gave him.”

My biggest memories of Grampa was that he was a  quiet, gentle soul. He rarely talked much (maybe Grandma did all the talking?), but took everything in. He would sit with a milk carton full of paper towels and spit tobacco juice in it whenever we visited or he came to visit. He also smoked a pipe. You couldn’t sit on his lap because he had somehow hurt it. Maybe as the result of a stroke.

He died the summer before my Senior year in College. He was the only person I ever remember breaking down and crying over. I had just written him a letter two or three days before he died, and I was devastated he wouldn’t get it.

Activities I was involved in during High School

 I kept pretty busy all during high school. I think that was one of the positive factors for my getting into the Air Force Academy. I was always busy with something.

In Las Vegas, while I attended Rancho High School, I was involved in the Junior National Honor Society (I was President) and then the National Honor Society, which I continued with when we moved to Arizona. I was on the Student Judiciary, which ran the school elections. All my friends where in the Ski Club, because we took trips up to Brian Head in Utah, and Mt. Charleston to ski, sometimes overnight.

I was in band in Junior High School, and at least in 9th grade, at Rancho, I believe I kept at it. I remember marching in a couple parades. But as I got older, I left band for sports and cars and activities with my buddies.

I participated in Boy Scouts up until 9th or so. I was big into it while I lived in Washington. Loved the camping and all the activities. However, when we got to Nevada, the troop wasn’t very active and by the time High School started, I got distracted out of that too.

My favorite activity was journalism. I joined the school paper as soon as I could, and was the editor of the Rancho school paper, The Rampage, my Junior year, and won an award for best layout by Las Vegas Review-Journal HS Awards competition.

After I moved in the spring of my Junior year (which did not make my Advisor, Ms Smith very happy), I worked on both the school paper and year book staff at Agua Fria for the rest of the time I was there. I loved writing and editing the paper.

We had a great newspaper staff at Agua Fria, with Judy Cunningham serving as the establishment-approved editor, and Mike Murphy as the cutting edge anti-establishment (think Rolling Stone) ranter, and I as the opinion editor mucking things up. Sometimes I was popular for my writing, and sometimes not.

When I was put on the alternate list for the Air Force Academy, my plan for college was to go to Northern Arizona University, in Flagstaff, major in Journalism, ski, and see if I could join the ROTC program. Obviously the major could have changed depending on what fancied me, but that was the initial plan. I think it would have been interesting to do investigative reporting for a big paper. Might have been fun… but who knows. As it turns out, I never had the chance to wonder much about it.

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