Where Am I

If someone were to ask you to name the points of the United States of America that were furthest to the North, East, West, and South what would your answers be?

Some people might answer Alaska, Maine, California, and Florida.  Only one of those four choices is true.  The correct answers would be Alaska, Alaska, Alaska, and Hawaii.

Why?  Well, we all can easily agree Alaska is the farthest to the north.  Yes, we forgot about Hawaii when thinking of South, but is Hawaii actually South of Florida?  Yes, easily, it is below the Equator, far South of Florida.

Now we get into that tricky East and West thingy.  First one would have to ask a question.  East or West of what?  Unlike the North and South, there are no East and West Poles to use as a reference point.  The only things close to that are the Prime Meridian (North and South through England) and the Antimeridian, exactly 180 degrees from each other.  If we were to call everything West of the Prime Meridian the Western Hemisphere, then the Eastern Hemisphere would have to be the other half of the world.  Right?

Because of the above, then you will find that the outer islands of the Aleutian Chain off Alaska extend past the Antimeridian, thus they are in the Eastern Hemisphere, and it follows they are East of the rest of the United States.  Thus Alaska is more North, East, and West than any other points in the United States.

Mid-October Foliage

As I often do I went for a ride this afternoon on the Bayou Buggy.  I was not fortunate enough to make contact with any wildlife, but I did see plenty of beautiful fall foliage as we get here in the north country of New York.

This first photo is a shot taken across a harvested corn field at some mixed wooded area.  There’s some Birch in there, as well as some Maple and even some Pine all threw together by Mother Nature.

The second shot is near the first, but the Birches in this photo stood out more against a darkened sky on a dreary day.  A little splash of white brightens things up.

In a different area of the same field I wandered across some Sumac making a pretty bright red area among the darker colors of the background forest.

For those who may want to see a Sumac closer up, here’s one for you fine folks.  That’s a couple of Birches among the evergreens behind it.  We are fortunate to have such views in our area so we’ll share with you.  Right after I took this last photo the skies opened up and I chose to make a home run.  That is I made a mad dash for my home before getting completely soaked.

Movie Time

My friend Don and I decided to go to a movie one night.  Although the weather was rather brisk for the area, it was Florida, so how cold could it be?

As we left Corry Field riding double on Don’s Triumph 650 Twin we headed east on US 98 (Navy Boulevard) heading toward downtown Pensacola.  When we came to the intersection of Palafox Street we headed North, but only a very short distance as the Rex Theatre was located there on the east side of the street.  All together we traveled no more than four or five miles, but due to the cool evening air we did get chilled in spite of our warm leather jackets.

We were discussing what the temperature was as we rode slowly along our chosen path.  We both felt it must be as low as in the forties, but we had no real way of knowing.  As we parked the bike and swung down off it, I noticed that Don’s hair appeared to be frozen.  He felt it, and told me it was.  He then looked at me, and told me mine was also.  There were no helmet laws in any of the states back in the mid-1950s, and as such we never wore them, or any other head gear for that matter.

Pensacola Times

I cannot remember the name of the establishment, nor do I recall which street it was located on, but I do know it was west of North Palafox a few streets and at the northern outskirts of Pensacola as it was in 1956 and 1957.  It was a drive-in restaurant that sat among a grove of trees on the west side of the street.  Its popularity was undoubtedly due to its policy of hiring young female waitresses exclusively.  They were magnets to the young sailor population in and around Pensacola at that time.

I met one of these young single ladies, and for whatever reason she agreed to go on a couple of dates to the movies with me.  It was through her that I learned of a rather unusual business practice used at the restaurant.  Believe it or not the girls paid $1 an hour to work there.  This was long before the days of minimum wages and such, at least for waitresses.  Because this place did such a tremendous amount of business the girls earned tips far and above any they could get at any other place anywhere near there.  So, a dollar of their earnings per hour still left them with far more than they could earn anywhere else, and the restaurant had a waiting list of girls who wanted to work there.

I’ve no idea where one would learn the skills needed to work there.  There was no parking lot management at all.  The vehicles owners parked haphazardly under the trees wherever they desired.  It was up to the girl working that particular area to keep up with movement, take orders, deliver them, and collect money owed.  There were anywhere from 6 to 10 girls working at any given time, depending on time of night, and day of the week.

Because of the heavy traffic in the area a local police officer was usually there.  One night several sailors decided to have a little fun.  A couple of them staged a fight near the building.  The policeman rushed from his car to the scene to break up the fracas.  While he was gone from his car someone chained his rear axle to a tree.  Then two more guys got in their cars and proceeded to start a drag race in the street.  With revving engines and a great squealing of tires they were off.  The officer ran to his car, entered it, and with much gusto started after the miscreants.  When he hit the end of that chain, the entire rear end of the car was instantly removed.  He sat there bewildered for a few seconds.  I’m sure the shock was terrible.  He attempted to discover who had done the dastardly deed, but no one knew anything.

Hurricane Flora

Interrupting my chronological recital of my Navy career, I’m going to jump ahead a few years as this is the correct time of the year for this tale.  It so happened that I was ordered to travel to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba in 1963.  I left my wife and our only child in Northern New York when I left the area on July 19^th, 1963.  I drove to Norfolk, Virginia for further transfer to Gitmo.

I arrived in Gitmo August 2, 1963 for a one year tour of duty.  My first act upon arrival was to apply for an extension of that one year for a second year which allowed my family to accompany me.  Second order of business was to apply for Base Housing which put me on a waiting list for a two-bedroom home.  Now it was time to settle down and wait.

About a month later, September 6^th, I completed eight years in the Navy and was an E-6 Enlisted First Class Petty Officer (AMS1).  I had taken a Navy-wide exam the previous February, and was selected as an E-7 Chief Petty Officer effective as of November 16^th, which was about two months in my future.

On September 26^th a tropical depression formed off the west coast of Africa, and by September 29^th it had evolved into Hurricane Flora located some 560 miles east of Trinidad.  It passed directly over the island of Tobago with winds of 125 MPH.  It made landfall on the island of Haiti on October 3rd with winds of 145 MPH with gusts up to 200 causing 3500 deaths.

Next in line was Cuba where it struck about 30 miles from Guantanamo Bay with slightly lesser wind speeds closer to 125 MPH.  Traveling northwestward past Gitmo it weakened over land.  As it approached the northern coast of Cuba on October 4^th a high pressure area pushed it back southward whereupon it struck our Base for a second time shortly after we had been advised of an all-clear form the first shot.  After traveling into the waters of the Caribbean, south of the island where it picked up some more steam, it returned for the third time on its way northeast on October 8^th.  For five soggy days we dealt with great amounts of rain and wind that seemed like they would never end.  Some areas of Cuba received up to 100” of rain, the highest amount of any event ever on record.  Totally it was the 6^th deadliest storm ever with between 7,200 and 8,000 deaths.

November 16^th I was initiated into the ranks of Chief Petty Officer.  Six days later President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.  Possibly not as memorable as September 11, 2001, but it was truly an eventful six-week period.

One month later my wife and son arrived at Gitmo where we spent the next three years together, as well as our daughter born there the following February.

Flight Time

During the last few months I was at Corry Field, located in Pensacola, Florida, I worked with a fellow named Paul Hamm from Opp, Alabama.  On one occasion during night flying operations Paul decided to go for a flight riding in the rear seat of a flight instructor’s SNJ trainer aircraft.  After donning a flight suit, helmet, parachute, and other assorted gear, nearly everyone looks alike.

When it was time for the flight to leave Paul crawled into the rear seat of the aircraft assigned to the instructor he was flying with.  As the fifty or so aircraft lined up ready for takeoff, Paul told me later, he was grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of his chance to fly.  Canopies closed, with a great roar of many engines they were airborne.  After a couple of minutes over the intercommunications radio within the aircraft, Paul heard this rather plaintive voice saying, “Thank you Mr. Smith for allowing me to takeoff when this is only my first flight.”

Paul replied, “What do you mean this is your first flight?  You’ve been a pilot for years.”

The voice in his headphones repeated, “No, this is my first flight Mr. Smith.  I’m really happy that you allowed me the privilege of making the takeoff.  We’ll be fine until we land.  I have no idea how to do that.”

Paul retorted, “Stop pulling my leg Mr. Smith, I know that is you.”

The voice spoke once again, “Mr. Smith, you know I’m a student.  Why are you acting this way?”

By this time Paul was becoming secure in the knowledge he had made a mistake and got in the wrong aircraft, and he was with a student, and not an instructor, and furthermore the student thought he was the instructor.

The banter went back and forth for a few more minutes before Paul finally heard a loud laugh from his headset and the voice saying, “I really had you going there for a few minutes didn’t I?”

Autumn

As I enter the waning years of my lifetime it seems the seasons all come a little quicker and are a little shorter.  So it is with this fall season.  It seems only a few weeks ago it was Groundhog’s Day, with snow on the ground, and spring a long way off.  Then it was May’s Memorial Day, and days later it was the Fourth of July.  Soon came Labor Day and now it is October first.  Where has the year gone?

On September 18^th I took the first photo of this series.  These were some of the first leaves I had spotted that were losing their green of summer to become a part of New York’s beautiful fall colors.  However it was only a few leaves on a single tree, so fall must be a long way off yet.  Right?

Fast forward one week to September 25^th.  The very same red leaves are yet there, but it appears the old master painter has added a goodly group of yellows to join them.  In fact it seems as if about half of the tree is now covered with colors other than green.  Only a week went by as summer changed to fall.  What happened?

Same tree, different day!  On September 27^th, only two days after the last photo, the yellows are already changing to brown.  The reds can still be seen but they are fading fast.  Soon they will drop to the ground to begin the change to humus for future tree growth.  It’s an ever-changing cycle.  Let’s hope it continues this way for a long long time.