Desde pan de maíz con caviar - Back Again

(Y viceversa?)

1925 - 1943

Nunca he visto el mar hasta que fue enviado a la isla de Parris al campamento de entrenamiento de la Infantería de Marina. Desde entonces he estado en 43 países y cuenta - porque, a la edad de 72 años, tengo algunos proyectos interesantes en el fuego. Pero estos proyectos aparecen en sus ratos libres y, mientras tanto, estoy tratando de divertirme al pasar de un poco de la experiencia que he tenido la suerte de "soportar".

Hace algunos años, cuando empecé mi carrera como un "gitano internacional" Sentí que las cartas de negocios fueron básicamente aburrido y por lo tanto fueron ignoradas por lo general. Empecé a tratar de escribir de una manera que tal vez llamar la atención del destinatario. Como resultado de esto, durante los años amigos y colegas han dicho "Usted debe escribir".

Cuando yo tenía la edad de pre adolescentes y adolescentes jugué mucho béisbol y pensé que sería bueno que un jugador de béisbol profesional. Cuando estuve en China en 1946 en el Cuerpo de Marines de EE.UU. pusimos en marcha un equipo de béisbol después de que había enviado a la parte posterior japoneses a Japón y no había mucho que hacer. Yo no hice el primer equipo del regimiento pero conseguí una vez al bate contra un hombre que había sido un lanzador de corral de toros para los Medias Blancas de Chicago. Lanzó una bola rápida que me pareció una tableta de aspirina se acerca a 90 millas por hora y el árbitro gritó "Strike". Lanzó una segunda, que me daba miedo a la muerte - otra huelga. El tercer lanzamiento llegó justo en mi cabeza y, de ser un bateador zurdo, me corrió por la línea de tercera base para no perder la vida. Se curva sobre el centro de la placa, el árbitro gritó "Tercer Strike".

Entonces me di cuenta que yo no iba a ser un jugador de béisbol profesional.

Asimismo, durante mi adolescencia, empecé a tocar el saxofón en bandas locales de baile y mi ambición era ser un hombre a lado en una de las bandas de buen número. Esta fue la era del "swing" y fueron los grandes nombres Miller, Goodman, Dorsey etc

En diciembre de 1942, a la madura edad de 17 años, recibí una llamada de una banda en la Universidad de Carolina del Norte. Se había reservado un viaje para la temporada de Navidad y Año Nuevo y cuatro de sus cinco saxofonistas se había redactado. Se invitó a mí ya otros dos miembros de nuestra banda local a unirse a ellos. Durante esta gira y posteriormente en China, estaba trabajando con la gente de verdadero talento y me di cuenta que yo no iba a ser un músico profesional.

Después de haber leído muchos de los autores brillantes - y algunos no tan brillante - También me doy cuenta que nunca voy a ser un profesional en este campo ya sea - pero - Voy a escribir esto para mis nietos en caso de que algún día, es posible que quieran saber de donde vinieron. (Normalmente habría dicho que "de dónde vienen" pero recuerdo que cuando Winston Churchill fue castigado en el Parlamento para tener una preposición al final de una oración. Respondió el reproche al decir "Esto es una impertinencia con que no voy a "puesto.

La primera vez que alguien me dijo: "Usted debe escribir" fue el resultado de mi primera carta a la sede de Weyerhaeuser, cuando llegué por primera vez en Guatemala. Iba a través de los archivos cuando llegué y me encontré con que las cartas cada mes, dijo, más o menos "Las ventas aumentaron un 1,3% respecto al mismo mes del año pasado. Gastos administrativos es de 6,8%, frente al 6,7% el año pasado. Inventario es de 1.200 toneladas. Etc, etc "

Desde la planta en Guatemala era muy pequeña, según los estándares de Weyerhaeuser, decidí que nadie iba a leer este tipo de informe, sobre todo cuando se trataba de muchas empresas en el extranjero.

Mi primera carta fue el siguiente:

El Sr. Wood Iván

Vicepresidente, Internacional

Weyerhaeuser Company

Tacoma, Washington

Estimado Ivan,

Como ustedes saben, la United Fruit Company abrió su planta propia caja y Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala acaba de perder un 45% de su negocio. Naturalmente, esto creó una pérdida para el mes.

Vamos a recuperar lo antes posible y supongo que por eso es que me ha enviado aquí.

El miércoles pasado la guerrilla mató al embajador de EE.UU. y todos los extranjeros aquí tienen miedo de S-menos. Al ser un ex marino, creo que puedo manejarlo.

Estoy empezando a adaptarse al cambio cultural lentamente. Cuando llegué me di cuenta de que todas las casas había una pared alrededor de ellos y el césped y el jardín fueron en este compuesto.

Supuse que esto era para la protección, la cual es parcialmente correcto, pero tiene una razón más práctica de ser.

Guatemala cuenta con una estación de las lluvias durante seis meses y una estación seca durante seis meses. La estación seca provoca una escasez de agua extrema y razas bacterias.

La mayoría de la gente piensa que el problema de la escasez de agua es que no hay agua potable. Siempre hay cerveza, coca cola y agua mineral para beber. El verdadero problema es que no se puede tirar de la cadena, pero la vez.

Vivir en una casa con tres personas y una criada cuando las bacterias han causado a todos con el "paso verde manzana rápida", y sólo ser capaz de tirar de la cadena una vez, está por encima y más allá del llamado del deber.

Fue en este tiempo que me di cuenta del valor de la pared de la privacidad y el uso práctico de todos los hermosos árboles y arbustos en el jardín.

Mi gato, que ha tenido mucha experiencia en este tipo de cosas, quedó en segundo lugar.

Un cordial saludo,

MB Tilson

Asheville, Carolina del Norte

Tal vez el título de esta epístola es confuso - permítanme aclarar.

Nací en Asheville, Carolina del Norte en 1925. Mi familia era de "ingresos medios". - No debe confundirse con la "clase media" Mi hijo, Bill, en su tesis de maestría en Arquitectura escribió "después de una infancia larga e interesante" - me gustaría policía de esta frase porque yo también, tuvo una infancia larga e interesante - pero, al ser un ingreso familiar del sur de media, comíamos pollo frito y pan de maíz. Pasarían años antes de que yo había cóctel de camarones y caviar -, pero son buenos!

Y ahora, después de la jubilación, que han vuelto al pan de maíz. Con un poco de suerte, algo más de trabajo duro y unos años más, tal vez, como el general MacArthur, volveremos.

El cantante de jazz, Pearl Bailey dijo una vez "He sido pobre y he sido rico y rica es mejor".

Si mi historia es interesante, es sólo por la gente interesante con quien se han asociado. Por esta razón, voy a contar muchos cuentos, algunos de ellos sin dar nombres "para proteger a los no tan inocentes".

Si insisto en la más pasado que el futuro es porque hay más de lo primero que del segundo.

Supongo que el punto de partida es el principio. Nací en Asheville, Carolina del Norte y nombró a Melvin Blalock Tilson Jr. Esto es causa suficiente para mí para adquirir el sobrenombre de "Charlie", que se ha pegado con mí durante estos años.

Mi madre, María de Reagan, era el menor de ocho hijos de JJ Reagan y Carolyn Pickens de Weaverville, NC - una metrópolis de 500 personas, la mayoría de los cuales fueron tratados como "primo" o "tía" o "tío" a pesar de que puede no han sido una conexión familiar. Esta fue una señal de respeto en ese momento. También fue muy útil de manera extraña. Tío Frank Weaver se sentaba en el banco en la calle principal. Porque él había recibido una ronda poco alrededor de la mitad, no pudo zip sus pantalones hasta el final para arriba. Más tarde, cuando uno de los miembros masculinos de la familia se olvide de cremallera que sólo tenía que decir "Hola, Tío Frank" y el delincuente se dio cuenta de inmediato lo que había olvidado.

Papa Reagan, como llamábamos a nuestro abuelo, era conocido como el "matemático octava clasificación en los EE.UU.." Esto fue aceptado y que apareció en su obituario. Pero - en alrededor de 10 años de edad, comencé a preguntarme "¿Cómo se tasa matemáticos?" El campeón de bateo se calcula por hits vs veces al bate. Un discurso de despedida está determinada por la suma de los grados, pero ¿cómo calificaría usted los matemáticos?

Cuando crecí, creo que me di cuenta de cómo evolucionó este título.

El Odd Fellows Hall fue el lugar de reunión local y el club social para los hombres en Weaverville. Aquí se podía masticar tabaco y jugar dominó. Yo no entiendo muy bien el juego, pero sí sé que la forma en que jugó, fue un ejercicio matemático. Papá lo general ganó porque era bueno. Mantuvo correspondencia con los profesores de Yale y Harvard, y enviaron a cada uno de otros problemas que resolver. Se dijo que iba a saltar en medio de la noche, escribe la respuesta a un problema en su camisa de noche, y volver a dormir, pero - esto aún no responde a la clasificación.

Yo me imagino que, después de haber sido completamente derrotado por "sor" de Reagan, uno de los grupo probablemente dijo que "sor es muy inteligente. Él debe ser el mejor matemático en el país ". Y otro contestó: "Bueno, no sé, hay que Feller Einstein y él es muy inteligente". Y, después de una discusión, se convino en que tal vez no era el número uno, sino que debe ser el número 8. Esa es mi teoría, pero tal vez fue el número 3 - ¿quién sabe?

Desde profesores universitarios se les pagaba incluso peor que lo que son ahora, papá Reagan fue también un topógrafo y tenía un vivero y una granja pequeña. Era dueño de Hamburgo montaña que estaba detrás de su casa y, aunque fue pequeño en comparación con las montañas real, tenían árboles frutales, tierras de cultivo y pastizales. También tenía una casa de humo donde los jamones se curan país. Este sigue siendo mi carne favorita.

Había leído de Luther Burbank supongo, porque él experimentó con injerto de árboles frutales. Si mi memoria no me falla después de tantos años, había un árbol que había manzanas, peras, cerezas y melocotones en el mismo árbol. No creo que esto continuó, pero, para el año en el que se injerta, todos los frutos eran comestibles.

Mamá Reagan era una señora temerosa de Dios de la vieja escuela - un descendiente de una larga línea de predicadores metodistas. Recuerdo que un domingo, Papa Reagan se escabulleron a un granero para escuchar a la Serie Mundial en la radio (no había televisión en ese entonces). Mamá lo reprendió terriblemente por la violación del sábado. Papa respondió: "Pero nadie me viera". A lo que respondió Mamá "El Señor te vio".

A menudo, cuando yo era muy joven, todos los hermanos de mi madre y hermanas y sus hijos de una cena (esta era la comida del mediodía) en la casa de Reagan. Debido a la gran cantidad, que los niños comían en la segunda tabla. Fue aquí donde he desarrollado una aversión para el pastel. torta de coco Mamá Reagan fue tan seco como el desierto del Sahara y pesaba unas 8 libras por rebanada. Mi madre parecía haber heredado esta gran habilidad en la cocina por lo que nunca en mi vida he dicho alguna vez a mi querida Ana, "¿Por qué no se puede cocinar como mi madre?"

No quiero detenerme en Papa Reagan, pero que podría seguir y seguir. Así que - sólo un par de cosas más.

Una vez que él y sus hijos, el más joven en ese momento alrededor de 6 años de edad, fueron subiendo Hamburgo Montaña para reparar algunas de las vallas. El más joven, creo que era "predicar", fue más adelante con otros varios y Papa fue detrás de alguna manera. De repente hubo un grito de sangre cuajada, y papá comenzó a correr por la montaña. Él pensaba que era una tragedia terrible y gritó "¿Qué pasó?" La más antigua que fue con "predicar" (creo que fue Grady) gritó "Dejó caer el martillo sobre un dedo del pie."

Papá le gritó de nuevo "Tome el martillo y matar a ese muchacho!" Ahora, esto me recuerda a la rutina de Bill Cosby, donde su esposa, dijo, a su regreso del trabajo "Sube las escaleras y matar a ese muchacho."

Mamá Reagan se cayó y se fracturó la cadera mientras yo estaba fuera de la Infantería de Marina. Ella se convirtió en senil, como dijimos entonces, pero ahora sé que fue la enfermedad de Alzheimer. Desafortunadamente, ella murió antes de mi regreso de China.

Papa Reagan continuó por muchos años más, pero fue asesinado por un coche mientras cruzaba la carretera. El coche era conducido por una pareja de recién casados y, por supuesto, que fueron devastados. Hoy en día, la familia probablemente se han demandado y exigido grandes sumas de dinero. En aquellos días, y espero que podamos volver a estas costumbres, la familia de mi madre se disculpó con la pareja, explicó que a los 85 años que no ve o escucha demasiado bien y que no fueron de ninguna manera responsable.

La parte que más me gustó, y la esperanza de emular, es que él se informa sobre su manera de ver a su novia. (Bien Annie, salga sonriendo, yo sé que usted está pensando en la canción de George Gershwin "No es necesariamente así", en el que dice la letra "Matusalén vivió 900 años, pero lo que es el uso de Livin 'cuando no le gal ceder a ningún hombre que 900 años. ") puedo soñar no puedo?

Ahora, vamos a correr rápidamente a través de la generación de mi madre del clan de Reagan:

La más antigua fue Anna Lee (que los niños llamaban "clave") - si estuviera viva que me iba a matar por decir esto, porque ella era una actriz y, por consiguiente, bastante vano. Ella nunca llegó a Broadway, pero lo hizo estudiar en Boston y fue activa en obras de teatro locales y regionales. Creo que su pasado fue una producción titulada "A estas colinas", que fue una crónica de los indios Cherokee. Ella jugó en esto para un número de años y también actuó en una obra de éxito llamado "Tight Calzones", que fue escrito por Hubert Hayes, un dramaturgo de la Universidad de Carolina del Norte.

hija clave era María Magdalena. Desde clave era 20 años mayor que mi madre, mamá y María Magdalena (Maná), en realidad crecieron juntos. Probablemente esto suena como la tira cómica de edad "Los muchachos de Montaña", donde los contrabandistas los 6 'Totin altura, una escopeta' había un tío llamado Rufe. Rufe tío estaba en pañales y fue alrededor de 6 meses de edad - pero esa es la forma en que fue en los viejos tiempos antes de la planificación familiar.

Clave casó Scroup Estilos (No te amo estos nombres?)

Alma (que se llama Tante) era una enfermera. Se casó con un abogado y vivía en High Point, Carolina del Norte, su esposo, a quien llamó "tío Nobe", fue nombrado Xenobious Walker. Después me enteré de su verdadero nombre, Melvin no suena tan mal.

Mi madre, María, era el que tenía el talento musical. Fue solista en la iglesia Metodista durante años y, desconocido para la mayoría de la gente, cantó en los funerales de lo que ahora llamamos "personas sin hogar". Cuando descubrí esto, me sentí orgulloso.

Mis tíos maternos fueron:

Grady - estaba en el ejército en la Primera Guerra Mundial y tal vez fue el precursor de la USO. Fue en la primera línea en Francia y luego escribió algunas canciones acerca de la guerra y envió estaba cerca para entretener a las tropas cuando se encontraban en las áreas de descanso. Él escribió una canción llamada "Bloody Guerra" que fue publicado más tarde, se trataba de una simple canción con muchos versículos aplicables a los tiempos y lo usé muchos años después de escribir parodias de nuestros amigos.

Más tarde fue presidente de la junta de comisionados del condado. Este fue un trabajo político importante y al parecer. En ese momento no había republicanos en el condado de Buncombe o tal vez no en Carolina del Norte, pero no había una competencia feroz. Las dos facciones se conoce como el "Ring" y la "Lucha contra el anillo". El anillo fue controlada por Deacon Greene. Nunca tuvo un cargo de elección y vivía en el Hotel Langren, pero no pasó nada sin la aprobación del Diácono. Grady fue finalmente derrotado y realmente no sé lo que hizo después de eso. Yo sé que la tía Grace, su esposa, trabajaba en la tienda de departamento de Ivey. Tal vez nunca Grady hizo nada después de eso.

Sus hijos fueron Grady, Jr. y Gordon. Grady Jr. tenía una excelente voz de bajo, al igual que su padre y cantaba en el coro de la iglesia. La última vez que supe, trabajó para la Administración de Veteranos. Gordon tuvo una beca de baloncesto para UNC y lo vi por última vez en Chapel Hill. Yo había regresado de China y se utiliza el GI Bill para terminar mi educación y que, siendo joven, acababa de entrar en UNC. Lo último que supe de él, que estaba en el servicio diplomático en Pakistán.

Rob - Supongo que su nombre era Robert pero nunca supe nada más "tío Rob". Rob era un agrimensor o, como decimos ahora, un ingeniero civil. Él tuvo bastante éxito y construyó una casa justo detrás de mamá y papá Reagan. Él y la tía (que pronunció Ant) Belle tenía dos hijos - Bobby y Gloria (GLO). Bobby quería ser dentista, pero por alguna razón no lo hizo. Lo último que supe de él, era un vendedor de Morton Salt. Glo se casó con un hombre que tenía un concesionario de automóviles en Virginia Beach. Cuando estaba en la República Dominicana, ella y su marido (estoy avergonzado de que [MT1] No puedo recordar su nombre) llegó a la Casa de Campo para pasar unas vacaciones de golf. Nice people.

Ernest - Tío "Ern" era un tenedor de libros. Él y Zola tía (no tenemos grandes nombres?) Tuvo 4 hijos. Uno se retrasó y fue puesto en un "hogar". El mayor fue Elaine, una dama encantadora. Se casó con un capitán de marina y, cuando estaba en Camp Lejeune, en la Infantería de Marina, que me invitó a su casa para la cena. Después, fuimos al cine, pero, desde que era un soldado. y él era un capitán, nos separamos. Me senté abajo de las escaleras y se sentaron en el balcón en la sección oficial. Hoy en día esto probablemente se llamaría "discriminación" pero creo que es correcto.

Ernesto Jr. (Bud) y Jim estaban los dos muchachos. Bud y yo, por ser de la misma edad, eran probablemente más que cualquiera de mis primos. Bud era un cajero de broma maestro, sobre todo de chistes verdes, pero divertido. Terminó como capellán de la Marina - y muy buena. Por desgracia, murió en sus primeros 40 años. Yo nunca lo vi después de salir de Chapel Hill.

Jim era un infante de marina, al igual que yo, pero, puesto que no había una diferencia de edad, no estaba cerca de él. El último contacto que tuve fue de Jacksonville, Florida, Jim había sufrido un caso severo de la artritis y la mayor parte del tiempo estuvo confinado en el hospital de veteranos en Gainesville, Florida Comenzó una crónica del clan Reagan. Voy a tratar de encontrar si se encuentra todavía en él, aunque no tengo un número de teléfono.

Carol - Lo llamábamos "el tío Preach". Se puso este nombre porque, cuando era niño solía ir al bosque y predicar sermones. Esto, obviamente, provino de las visitas de los asociados "jinetes de circuito" que formaban parte de la familia de Mama de Reagan. Predica casado "tía Ana" - una mujer pequeña que trabajaba como cajero de un banco en el banco local. Ella fue víctima de un atraco a un banco, con escopetas y las máscaras, en el banco local. Esta fue la época de John Dillinger y si era Dillinger o algún ladronzuelo otros, no sabemos - pero era emocionante pensar que era viejo John.

Su único hijo fue Suzy. Suzy fue de aproximadamente 2 años más joven que yo, así que no se cierran cuando éramos jóvenes. Sin embargo, por razones desconocidas para nosotros dos, y aunque nunca nos vimos más de una vez o dos veces después de que crecimos, nos convertimos en "primos favoritos". Suzy se casó con un gran tipo que era un ejecutivo de Malcolm McLean en Sealand. Lo último que supe que vivía en Connecticut y su hijo mayor era un alférez en la Marina. Voy a tratar de encontrar también.

Scruggs - (Estos nombres de mejorar todo el tiempo). Scruggs se casó con el tío "tía Myrtle". Se trasladó a Evansville, Indiana, antes que yo naciera, así que sólo lo vi en raras visitas a Weaverville. Tuvieron un hijo, Jim. Me acuerdo de él sólo porque, en una estancia de dos meses en Weaverville durante el verano, comenzó a subir de peso. Nadie podía entender esto hasta que él comentó: "Esta es la mejor leche que he tenido en mi vida". Mamá y Papá Reagan había vacas y mantiene una jarra de crema pura en el refrigerador. Jim estaba tomando varios vasos al día. Hable sobre el colesterol! Lo último que supe de Jim, que estaba en Las Vegas.

En resumen, alguien dijo una vez de mi madre hermanos "Dos de ellos eran ciudadanos serios, sólidos. A uno le gustaba el whisky, una gustaban las mujeres y la otra le gustaba tanto. "No hace falta decir que no voy a identificar por su nombre.

Suficiente sobre mi madre de la familia. Vamos a pasar a mi padre lado.

Nunca conocí a mi abuelo paterno porque murió cuando mi padre tenía 14 años. Por esta razón, papá nunca terminó la escuela -. Creo que fue al 7 º grado comenzó a conducir el coche de mi tío abuelo, el Dr. Weaver y este fue el origen de mi padre el apodo de "Little Doc", que más tarde se convirtió en simplemente "Doc".

Mi abuela paterna fue Essie Penland. No creo que Essie era el nombre real, pero eso es todo lo que he conocido. Esto fue antes de los días de la seguridad social así, cuando la señorita Essie ya no podía ejecutar su pensión, se vino a vivir con nosotros. Lo único que recuerdo de "la abuela Tilson" fueron cuando me senté en su regazo, cuando yo tenía unos 7 años, y me leía historias de la Biblia. Además, ella me llevaba en el tranvía a los lugares donde se sirve de sandía en el verano. Todavía me encanta la sandía. Abuela murió mientras ella estaba viviendo con nosotros. No tengo idea de donde dormía porque teníamos una casa de 2 dormitorios. Mi querida hermana "Til" y yo compartimos una habitación, mis padres tenían los demás. ¿De dónde dormir abuela? - Nunca he pensado en esto hasta este momento!

George y Essie tuvo 5 hijos. La más antigua era mi tío George, entonces mi papá Melvin, a continuación, Bertha, Edgar y Harriet. Este lado de la familia había grandes nombres también.

George se casó con la tía Mariana - un yanqui ni menos. No tenían hijos, pero tenía un perro Scottie. Llegaron a la casa una noche, angustiada, porque el perro había muerto. Se sentía culpable porque no había tenido su amígdalas en el tiempo. El resto de nosotros, cuyos perros venían de la perrera o de la calle y comía sobras de la mesa, no podía imaginar a un perro a ir al médico para una operación.

Recientemente he oído a mi primo Fred Reeves que la tía Mariana estaba todavía vivo en la edad de 97 años, pero en realidad no era "con él". Piezas de mí.

Edgar fue el garbanzo negro. Se casó y tuvo un hijo; Bertha Ann. Bertha Ann vivió durante varios años con Harriet. ¿Qué pasó con ella más tarde, no tengo ni idea.

Bertha fue genial. Nos llamó a su tía Tillie (un apodo a su marido, Fred, le había dado - derivados de Tilson). Tenían una bonita casa con cancha de tenis en Weaverville y 2 cabañas en las montañas de Reems Creek. Esta propiedad contigua Campamento de Sequoia que era, y quizás todavía es, un campo exclusivo para niños y niñas. Fred trabajó en el banco en Weaverville y cuando todos los bancos comenzaron a fallar durante la depresión, que era, ¿cómo podemos decir hoy en día? - Reducido?

Después de esto, que vendió (o pérdida) de la casa en Weaverville y se trasladó a las cabañas. Vivían en una y alquilar el otro. Eran cabañas de madera, hecho a la manera antigua, pero eran muy cómodas, excepto que el alimento se conserva en la casa de la primavera y las tuberías era un edificio fuera rodeada por las flores que hemos denominado "Johnny Casa Lirios".

Sus dos hijos fueron Fred (Junie) y María Isabel (Libba).

Hace poco hablé con Pedro y él acababa de celebrar su 80 cumpleaños. Dijo que no tenía muchos amigos porque no le gustaba la gente de edad. Fred jugó en el equipo de tenis en NC State, tal vez el hecho de haber un tribunal en su casa. Era un capitán de la Fuerza Aérea en la Segunda Guerra Mundial y después de la guerra se trasladó a California y entró en el negocio de bienes raíces. Creo que aún salpica en esto. Espero verlo si mi proyecto de vivienda en Tijuana se desarrolla debido a que vive cerca de San Diego.

Libba casó con un oficial de la marina mercante y tenía una hija que se llamó "Eva", porque ella fue la primera niña en su familia de su marido desde hace varias generaciones. He perdido el contacto con ellos por completo y, desde Libba era mayor que Fred, tal vez ella ya no está vivo.

Enriqueta se casó con John Brady, un ingeniero. Se produjo dos hijos, John y George. John y Harriet se divorciaron y Harriet terminó en Nueva York trabajando para el gobierno. Ella falleció hace algunos años. George vive en algún lugar de Nueva Inglaterra, pero Juan murió muy joven. Fue editor del periódico en Franklin, Carolina del Norte - una ciudad muy similar a Weaverville.

Yo tenía un especial cariño para la tía Tillie porque, cuando tenía unos 10 años que uso para subir a los árboles detrás de una de sus cabinas y caminar por los viñedos enorme que creció en estos árboles. Ella no permitiría que el tío Fred cortar estas viñas porque "Charlie le gusta subirse a ellos".

Llevé a mi adorable Ann a la cabina cuando éramos novios - poco antes de casarnos. No me di cuenta que no estaba encantado con las montañas, como yo, y yo insistí en que nos swing en una vid de uva sobre el arroyo. Se cortó la pierna en el proceso y esta era su última aventura en una vid de uva. Lo hizo, sin embargo, van a dormir en un columpio en el porche y muy relajado por lo que no fue una pérdida total.

Ahora - después de todas estas personas, llega "poco Melvin". Nací el 4 de enero de 1925 y se me ocurrió ayer, después de ver la prematura muerte de la princesa Diana y también la hermana María Teresa, que la Hermana Teresa que murió a los 87 años nació sólo 15 años antes que yo. Tuve mejor prisa por terminar esta crónica!

He llegado a creer - bueno, tal vez no creer, pero estar interesados en las características generales del Zodíaco. Soy Capricornio y tiene todos los rasgos generales atribuidos a nosotros "cabras". Me casé con un Leo y ella tiene todas las características de una "leona" - La princesa de la selva.

Como nos Capricornio son bastante perseverante, tenaz personas e ingenua a veces, mis primeros recuerdos son de montaje. Una vez yo estaba jugando en el campo al lado de nuestra casa en Weaverville, donde se había trasladado poco después de que yo naciera, y entré en un agujero de poste . Mi pie bajó poco apuntadas, aplanado en la parte inferior para que no saliera. Otros, tal vez más brillante y más emocional de lo que habría gritado pidiendo ayuda. Yo, como un sordo Capricornio, permaneció en silencio hasta que se perdió. Mi madre, que no era tan carente de emociones, llegó a gritar en el campo y me excavado con una cuchara de plata.

Mi recuerdo del día, se que tenía una cabra mascota. Mi padre construyó un carro con forma de camión de bomberos y la cabra puede tirar de esto. Mis primos, que eran mayores, y obviamente más inteligente que yo, diría: "Charlie, te quedas aquí y esperar a que cualquier llamada de emergencia que vienen pulg Nosotros tomar el carro e investigar los incendios que están ocurriendo. "A pesar de que ellos creían en el tiempo, esto me ha impedido ser" engañado en "muchas veces desde entonces.

Mi siguiente recuerdo es cuando se mudó a Asheville y alquiló una casa en la avenida Merrimon. Yo sólo tenía unos 6 años de edad, pero sí recuerdo que había un tablero negro pequeño en un caballete en mi habitación, pero yo sólo tenía un trozo de tiza blanca con la que va a dibujar. En la escuela el domingo en la Iglesia Metodista Central, del Sur, se tizas de colores. Me lo robaron!

Ser muy inteligente, me escondí en mi habitación hasta que sobre el próximo miércoles. Entonces - mientras jugaba en el patio que se tropezó y cayó al suelo. Se me ocurrió desde el suelo y le dijo a mis padres que estaban en el porche delantero "Mira, tropezó y se cayó y se posó en una caja de tizas de colores".

Ellos, por supuesto, sabía que la tiza había estado ausente de la escuela dominical durante 3 días y fueron lo suficientemente astuto como para esperar los acontecimientos. Después de decirme la suerte que tenía de encontrar esta tiza y con preguntas discretas en cuanto a cómo podría haber llegado hasta allí - me confesó. Volví la tiza el próximo domingo y nunca he robado nada desde entonces. Tal vez si yo hubiera salido con la suya o si había sido encarcelado a los seis años, habría sido confirmada penal.

Por cierto, la Iglesia Episcopal Metodista Central-Sur significaba que no había negros en la congregación.

Mi papá, que era conocido como un poco de un humorista, solía decir que pasamos cada vez que el alquiler de su vencimiento. Esto no era cierto, pero cuando tenía unos ocho años nos mudamos a 6 Coleman Avenue. Esto fue alrededor de una milla de distancia, pero eso significaba que iba a tener un conjunto completamente nuevo de los amigos porque era otro barrio.

Tengo muchos recuerdos, de 6 de la Avenida Coleman. Era una casa pequeña, tal vez 700 m2 en la planta principio, pero con un sótano y un garaje. Teníamos dos habitaciones. Mamá y papá tenía uno y yo compartimos la segunda con mi hermana. Cuando la abuela Tilson dormido cuando vino a vivir con nosotros, no sé.

My Father always wanted to have a “hoss” because I think he was infatuated with the Old West and the cowboys in the movies. The Recreation Park was one of the 1930's theme parks which had a zoo, merry go round, bump cars, Ferris wheel etc. It also had a pony ride. Dad found that the owners of the pony ride would let anyone have a pony to keep during the winter season when the Park was closed, if they fed it and looked after it.

He got me a pony. My Mother and Sister were not too delighted but Dad, I and my friends were!!

Although our house was small, the lot went back about 300 feet. We were in rented property but Dad took down the garage doors and used them for the sides of a stable for my pony “Phyllis” – AKA “Phil”.

It is amazing how many friends you have when you have a pony.

Phil used to get loose and since I left for grammar school before my sister left for high school, she had to go up to Merrimon Avenue to get Phil and bring her back to the stable. Phil always seemed to step on Til's foot and, not knowing about horses and hating them also, Til did not know that all you have to do is pick up the ankle and lift the foot. I think she learned some vulgar words in this experience.

At the same time, I had a dog, a cat, a bantam hen and a bantam rooster. The dog had 6 pups, the cat had 8 kittens and the bantams hatched a brood of 12.  My Mother was very tolerant.

En ese momento comencé mi primera aventura comercial. Vendí revistas de puerta en puerta - Saturday Evening Post y el Ladies Home Journal. Yo no era muy bueno en esto, así que no tuvo éxito. El único peor de lo que era mi vecino, Billy Charnuckle. Su enfoque era decir a quien abrió la puerta "Usted no quiere comprar alguna revista ¿verdad?" Ellos, por supuesto, decir "no" y cerró la puerta.

Cuando tenía alrededor de 11 nos trasladamos a la Avenida de Murdoch. Este fue el lugar favorito viví mientras crecía. Era una casa pequeña - una sola planta con un sótano, parte del cual fue un garaje. Había tres habitaciones, dos de los cuales antes eran un porche para tomar el sol así que había ventanas por todas partes. Fuera de la sala había un armario grande con salida a un pequeño balcón. Elegí este de mi habitación en lugar de uno de los dormitorios. Había espacio para la cama, un montón de estanterías y no mucho más, pero era privado y acogedor. Había algunas desventajas, no para mí sino para otros. Mi hermana, que es 4 años mayor, a menudo tenía compañía y fechas. Estaban en la sala de estar y para ir de mi "refugio" para el baño, era necesario pasar por la sala de estar. Me fui a la cama temprano, ya que llevaba los periódicos en una ruta por la mañana y para mí que levantarse alrededor de las 11:00 horas y caminar penosamente a través de la sala de estar en mi ropa interior era bastante desconcertante para mi hermana, sobre todo cuando ella estaba tratando de impresionar a los último "amor de su vida".

The main reason I liked this house was the neighborhood. It was known as “Norwood Park” and there was an abundance of kids of all ages. Across from my house was an area which we called “The Woods”. It was perhaps about 5 acres of trees with a creek running through it and a corn field on the other side.  Each summer we built a dam across this creek and created a swimming hole. This was supervised by the older members of the group who were at least 15 years old. The rest of us, ranging from age 8 to 14, were the common labor.  The creek was perhaps 8 feet wide and about 1 or 2 feet deep during normal times. Our procedure, which wasn't bad for a group of kids, was as follows:

We cut down a tall tree – perhaps 30 feet tall with a diameter of perhaps 12 or 15 inches. This we laid across the creek to reach the banks of the creek which were about 5 feet above the creek level. We staked this log down at each end so that it could not move in either direction.

We then began to scrounge all over the neighborhood and any nearby construction site for any lumber which was not tied down. As I write this I realize that we were probably stealing but we never thought of picking up a loose piece of lumber as theft even though we usually did this at night.

These planks were then put at about a 45 degree angle, one end nailed to the log across the “canyon” and the other end in the dirt in what would be the pool.  We started at each end and worked our way to the middle, leaving a space for the creek to flow through. Underneath the lumber we piled rocks to support the planks and on top of the planks we piled dirt. This dirt was dug out of the creek bed and the sides to make the pool deeper and larger.

After several weeks of work the dam was complete except for a section in the center about 3 feet wide. This was the time to mobilize all of the kids who had worked on it. (You could not swim in the pond unless you participated in the construction). Everyone arrived at about 7am with shovels, picks, hammers and much excitement. When the planks were placed in the center we all began to shovel like mad to cover the remaining space. This was usually accomplished by 9 am and then came the waiting for the dam to overflow.

It usually took about 5 days for the pond to fill up and, of course, during this time there was no water downstream because we had closed off the entire flow. We put twigs in the bank at water level and checked them the next day to see how many inches the water had risen. From this primitive measurement, we could guess about when the water would flow over the dam.

The creek started from a spring on Sunset Mountain and flowed through the Asheville Country Club golf course in front of Grove Park Inn. After it passed our swimming hole, it meandered through the suburbs and about 15 miles down stream, it flowed through farm land. About the 3rd day of no water there would be a farmer walking upstream to see why his live stock were not getting any water from the creek. We knew this would happen so we always had someone on duty at the dam while it was filling up (except at night). When the farmer would inevitably arrive, a signal would go out and any one nearby would come to plead with him to wait “just one more day”. “Please, Mister, don't break our dam”. They never did since they too had been kids.

The overflow was an occasion for celebration. The word went out to the entire neighborhood “The Dam Is Going to over Flow about Midnight!!  We begged our parents to let us go watch and usually they consented and quite often accompanied us.

I learned to swim in this swimming hole and, since it was so shallow, I can dive in a teacup without hitting the bottom. In the early morning it was crystal clear but after 20 kids had been stirring up the mud from the bottom, in the late afternoon it was a dark brown. At night we would take a small piece of wood, about 1 foot square, place a lighted candle on it, tie a string to one edge and float in into the pond. Frogs, attracted by the light, would jump up on the wood and give out what I suppose was their mating call. It was there that I learned to call frogs and this became a great source of amusement at cocktail parties – especially when a frog appeared from a country club pool.

El campo en el otro lado de la laguna de los bosques no siempre se plantó en el maíz. A veces se plantan patatas y nos desenterrar unos pocos, los asados en las brasas cubiertas de barro y un banquete. Creo que esto fue robado también.

Tuvimos un gran número de niños en el barrio, lo suficientemente cerca de la edad para ser compatibles y realmente fue capaz de formar un equipo de béisbol y un equipo de fútbol del barrio.

En este momento me hice cargo de una ruta periódico. Esta es quizás la experiencia más grande de negocios para los jóvenes, sino que no existe hoy en día. Ha evolucionado, como todo lo demás, en volumen y que ahora se realiza por los adultos con los automóviles que contratan a personas jóvenes o inmigrantes para ofrecer en grandes superficies. Mi ruta fue de 100 clientes en un barrio obrero. Se fue a trabajar a las 7:00 am y querían que su periódico de la mañana a las 6:00 am. Por lo tanto - me levanté a las 4: am y terminó a las 6:00 am, se volvió a dormir durante 1 hora y se levantó para ir a la escuela. En el verano cuando no había escuela, mis amigos que también llevó a papeles, llegó a la piscina en el club (que no eran miembros) y nadamos a las 6:00 de la mañana. A veces la guardia salía y nos amenazan por invasión de propiedad, pero nunca sacó su pistola y salimos pacíficamente.

I also got a job on the weekends as a clerk in McIntyre's Fruit Store. This was run by Joe McIntyre, his brother and a sister.  Leo, Joe's brother drove a semi trailer truck to Florida each week, returning with citrus from Indian River and Bananas from Central America which came in by boat to Miami. Nowhere else in Asheville was such fresh, quality fruit available because the supermarkets did not exist at that time. Joe also brought in exotic (for Asheville at that time) fruits and vegetables from California. These included avocados which my Mother dearly loved. Each pay day I would buy her one. At that time – 1940, they cost $1.00. I suppose that is about $20.00 today. Transportation has changed our eating habits because an avocado still costs about $1.00. At that time I hated avocados but after living overseas where they grow wild, I have developed a taste for them also – particularly in guacamole.

Since this was at the tail end of the depression, I had been taught to be very frugal – a trait I lost somewhere along the line  – and , unknown to my family I opened a savings account at the First National Bank of Asheville.  I paid my expenses from my paper route so when I received my check from McIntyre I put most of it in the bank.

I was working full time during the summer so at the end, when school started I had about $250 in the account. This was more than my Father made in a month. One day my passbook fell out of my pocket on the sofa and I did not notice it. My Mother and my Sister found this and were astounded. My Mother casually suggested that I buy some clothes for school so – there went my savings but it did help the family quite a bit because I was still growing and last years clothes did not fit.

I had now graduated from Claxton elementary school and entered High School and I loved every minute of those 4 years. I was a Freshmen for three years. No, I didn't fail – it was a quirk of fate. At that time we had only 11 grades of school. 7 were in elementary (grammar) school and 4 in High School. During the depression Junior High had closed. When I entered Lee Edwards High School I was in the 8th grade. At the end of the year, Junior High was re-opened for one grade so I was a Freshman in the 9th grade. At the end of this year a second grade was moved to Junior High so I was a Freshman in the 10th grade. I graduated at age 16 because I had skipped 1/2 a grade in grammar school. This was not because I was smart but again a quirk of fate.

Today one must be 6 years old in September to enter the first grade. When I entered school, being born in January, I entered in grade 1-A in January. When I was in the 3rd grade this system was abandoned and we had entry to school only in September. Those of us in the “middle” had to either move up 1/2 grade or move back 1/2 grade. I was moved up so I gained 6 months on most of the normal graduates.

When I started High School I carried as heavy a schedule as was allowed. Most people had a “Study Hall” but I never took one, preferring instead to take both Band and Physical Education – both of which were electives. I loved sports and played everything, but not good enough to make either the varsity or to think of an athletic scholarship to college. My Mother, being a musician, wanted me to study piano. At this time any boy who played piano or took dancing classes was a “Sissy”. I have regretted my decision to bow to peer pressure to this day.

Because of my overbite, I was assigned to the clarinet and I played a very exuberant, if not inspired 3rd clarinet in the High School band. For graduation my family gave me an alto saxophone. I had never played sax before but I loved it. I began to play in the local dance bands. The first was formed by a transfer student from New Mexico. His name was Bob Shamaskin. He was known as “The Jerk from Albuquerque” but he was a nice guy and gave me my first chance.

After this band folded I joined one of my friends from Norwood Park who had become an accomplished trumpet player. His name was Arthur Weneje. During this era the bands were named after the leader. This was before we got names like the Grateful Dead, Three Dog Night, the Rolling Stones etc.

Our first job was for the graduation at the Asheville Normal School (this was what teacher's colleges were called in those days). We all griped a bit about being paid $2.50 for the evening but Art said “Listen, these people hired us without ever hearing us. This is our first job so play as best you can and we will get other jobs.”

We were pretty good for a young band and our next job was a debutante ball at the Vanderbilt Hotel. Here I first ran into Union problems. The local musicians union threatened to boycott the Hotel Vanderbilt for hiring a non union band. This came out in the newspaper under the headlines “Local Union Wants To Kill Ambitions of Teenagers” – so they never followed through.  But – we also never got another job at the Vanderbilt.

Our next job was on the local radio. Of course we were not paid for this. But as a result, we got a job playing for a Fraternity Dance in Spartanburg , SC the idea of getting an out of state job was unbelievable , particularly since we got $5.00 each plus expenses.

The band eventually broke up for lack of work and we all played “gigs” whenever we could and people who could not get a job at other time of the year could get one at Christmas. During the Christmas season and New Year there was always work because there were perhaps 3 bands in the area and 15 parties. Many times I went on a job and the first thing we did was to shake hands with the other members of the band and say “I am pleased to meet you”.  After the audience had a few drinks, the band sounded great.

World War II had now started and, being almost of age, we were all ready to go. I joined the Marine Corps in November of 1942 at age 17 but was not called up until July of 1943 when I graduated from Biltmore Junior College (now UNC- Asheville).

For reasons which I still don't understand, I was awarded a huge dictionary at graduation from Biltmore College for being the outstanding student. I still have it somewhere. My only regret is that, being caught off guard, I did not have a proper acceptance speech. What I should have said was “Ladies and Gentlemen, Distinguished Faculty and Guests, there are only 3 reasons why I have been accorded this honor. My sister is not here tonight because she is at school in Greensboro but the other two reasons are here. Please stand up Mom and Dad.” I hope all three can hear this, where ever they are.

I joined the Boy Scouts at age 12 and this was where I learned many things, which, joined with the principals taught to me by my family, church and school is probably why I did not find it necessary to carry a gun to school and shoot at random.

Being a Capricorn, I seemed to be singled out as a leader – although I never sought this. After about 2 months into Troop 4 I was picked to be the patrol leader of the Nighthawk Patrol at age 12. This consisted of 10 other kids and was no big deal – but I learned some things. In my first year at Boy Scout Camp there was a contest among all of the Patrols. The brand new Nighthawk patrol with its brand new patrol leader quickly fell behind. At one location we had to build a fire with two matches, at another we had to tie the proper knots to move a fallen tree etc. There was a counselor at each location and as we reached the one about 3 from the end, all other patrols had finished. I said to the counselor “We might as well quit. Everyone else has finished.” He replied “There is some honor in coming in last. There is no honor in quitting.” I have come in last a lot of times since then but I never quit.

One of the volunteer jobs I had was to hold the ropes around the greens at the first Land Of The Sky professional golf tournament. The favorite was Ralph Gudhal who had just won the US Open. He did not win because a young ex caddie by the name of Ben Hogan won his first tournament there.

I did not have dramatic talent but I was interested in the theater so I joined the stage crew in high school. The Lee Edwards High in Asheville always did well in drama, as well as football, and we went to the regional competition at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill. Our entry was an original play, written by the drama teacher and it had a mountain theme. We on the stage crew had made the props which were the inside of a mountain cabin. One of the props had a gun rack which held a rifle. That particular prop warped on the trip down and we brought it back straight with a stage brace. Miss Welch was ecstatic with our ingenuity and we were proud. It was fine until the middle of the first act. The stage brace slipped, throwing the rifle onto the middle of the stage, almost decapitating the star of the show. For some reason, Miss Welch was no longer ecstatic and we were in the dog house – women are fickle.

After I graduated from high school I enrolled at Biltmore Junior College. The first year, 1941, at “Biltmore Tech” as we liked to call it, was situated in the first floor of the Asheville Normal School. Math had always been my easiest subject in High School and I usually did the homework, if at all, at the end of the class or when the teacher went over the homework at the beginning of the next class.  When I arrived in college I found the game plan was different. Homework was assigned and at the next class another topic was taken up. Quite often it was based on knowing what had been assigned for homework – I almost failed. I got on the ball and recovered because I remembered my experience in taking 4 semesters of Latin. I got an A, a B, a C and a D. Seeing the hand writing on the wall, I quickly switched to French class.

The second year, 1942, Biltmore Tech moved to an old orphanage. It was an ideal location for a school with several hundred people because the rooms had not been private so they were large enough for a classroom, there was office space and the yard was very large with beautiful oak trees. I had never cut a class in my life but on one gorgeous spring day, I could not resist. Instead of attending economics class, I retired to the lawn and propped myself up against one of the large oaks and let spring fever attack. In about 10 minutes Mr. Junuis Allison, the professor, brought the class outside to have class under the trees. Spotting me at the next tree he said, “Good afternoon Mr. Tilson. Would you care to join us?” My answer is rather obvious – so much for being a truant.

The male population and the faculty of Biltmore College was fast being depleted because of World War II. The math professor was called by the government for one of the agencies, the chemistry professor was hired by DuPont, the language professor (he taught both French and Spanish) was commissioned in the Navy, learned Japanese and was sent to the Pacific to de code intercepted messages and the Phys Ed teacher was called up by the Navy to train recruits.

The male student body was also being depleted by the draft. In 1942 our basketball squad consisted of 6 people. Since the PhysEd teacher had also been the coach, the ole Capricorn ended up being player/coach. Toward the end of the season, we almost won a game.

In October, 1942 we had a special assembly for the male students in which Recruiters from the various branches of service made their pitch to try to get enlistments. The Air Force outlined the glamour and excitement of flying, the Navy gave the old “see the world” bit, the Army stressed how one could learn a trade or a specialty. A Marine Captain stood up and said “I can't make the promises that the others have made. If you join the US Marine Corps you will probably get shot and wash up on the beach of some Pacific Island. But – if you are interested, I will be here as soon as the meeting ends.”

I signed up that day but was not called up until after graduation in July of 1943.

1943 – 1944

EMORY UNIVERSITY

July 1, 1943 I boarded a train for Atlanta to start my interesting time in the US Marine Corps. The Navy had started a program called “V 12″ as a preliminary to Officer Candidate School. The reason was that the armed forces were building so fast that officers and non commissioned officers cold not be trained as fast as they were taken in. V 12 was offered to individuals who qualified and were currently students in college.

Because this was a rather select group, the talent gathered was most invigorating. Because these people came from various schools and were all reasonably bright and physically fit individuals, it made for an interesting time. The good part for us, as participants, was that we were continuing our education although we were also being trained as Marines.

Emory was, and still is, an outstanding university of medicine and ministry. I dare say that it has never been the same since the V 12 of the Navy and Marine Corps descended upon it. We took over the dormitories and bunked 3 to a room in two tiered bunk beds. The good beds and mattresses were stored in the attic – which I later discovered and took a nap on a pile of 6 mattresses every afternoon. I seem to never get enough sleep and can sleep 10 hours every night – although I don't get to. Perhaps it is because my blood pressure runs low or maybe I am just lazy.

Our group had been drawn from the southeastern colleges while other groups in the north and west drew on students from their respective areas. Since Georgia Tech, across town, also had a V 12 unit, our group at Emory came mainly from smaller schools. Besides me and two others from “Biltmore Tech” we had people from Rollins, The University of the South, Bob Jones College, Furman, Newberry and a host of others whose names escape me at this time.

Our routine was a bit different from what I was used to. We were up at 6:00 am, ran one mile, showered and went to breakfast. Then we went to class just as regular college students until 3 pm from 3 to 5 we had close order drill, rifle instruction and ran 5 miles. Then we could play baseball or football until supper (not dinner). Study period was from 7 pm to 10 pm and lights out at 10 pm I have not been so healthy or in such good condition since.

As mentioned above, there was such a diversity of talent available that almost any kind of group could be formed. Word was put on the bulletin board that there was an inspection next month by high ranking officers from Washington and asking anyone interested to become a part of a marching band. In two weeks we had a reasonably good band, complete with an experienced drum major. To our chagrin, there were no majorettes available.

As an off shoot of this, there was a call for anyone interested in being a part of a dance orchestra which was being formed. I joined this along with some really good musicians and I learned a lot.

Since there was a shortage of men outside of the service, the girl's schools had a difficult time getting enough for the Christmas dances. My roommate, Adrian Testerman, knew a girl from Brenau and she invited him to attend the Christmas dance at the Tri Delta sorority and bring two friends. Hap Marshall and I gladly accepted.  Brenau is in Gainesville, Georgia so we took the train from Atlanta – about a one hour trip.

My blind date was Denny Williams. Denny was engaged to an Ensign and she was not overwhelmed with me nor I with her. I spent most of the time with her roommate, a vivacious young thing named Ann Sholes and as the Sicilians say, I was struck by the thunderbolt. I had a date with Ann the next day and we walked around Gainesville. Ann, always the adventurous type, did not tell me that the girls were prohibited from walking in the city without permission. We were accosted by an old maid teacher who ordered us back to the campus and told me “We think boys would rather marry Brenau girls who have been brought up properly. I replied, in my usual smart mouth way “I just came for the week end, I did not come to get married.” Little did I know that the old biddie was giving me an accurate forecast of the outcome. Ann was in her first year at Brenau but she was a sophomore. Her freshman year was at Stevens College in Missouri but with the cost and travel time involved in going from Lynchburg to Missouri, her parents felt it better that she get closer to home.

Ann and Denny came to Atlanta in a few weeks and we went to the Fox Theater to a movie – that was about all we could do. They returned the same night, after curfew and sneaked in a bottle of rum purchased in Atlanta. Someone squealed and they were campused for a month.

Toward the end of my assignment at Emory, Charlie Smith who had married my cousin Mary Madeline came through Atlanta. Charlie was an executive for FW Woolworth. He took me to dinner at the Biltmore hotel and asked if I liked shrimp cocktail. I said “Yes” but the truth is I had never had one… (Caviar was starting) he also took me to the Fox Theater, which is still the place in Atlanta for entertainment. The featured performer was Eddie Peabody, the King of the Banjo. Many years later while I was attending a meeting of the Fiber Box Association, Eddie was the featured entertainer. The president of the Association, after the cocktail hour had been in session, introduced him as follows: Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a rare treat for you tonight. Eddie Playbody is going to pee on his banjo.

Feeling like a man of the world, I wrote Ann and said “We probably won't see each other again but it has been fun.” She was distraught because now she had only 5 boyfriends instead of 6.

1944

DUKE UNIVERSITY

As more and more of the V-12 group were sent to Parris Island, Camp LeJeune and Quantico, the V-12 program began to contract and the operation at Emory was closed and after 6 months at Emory the remaining personnel were sent to Duke.

Another marvelous opportunity to attend a first rate University.

We were at Duke only 3 months but it was fun, interesting and educational. There was a dance band in existence there and I joined it and was asked to switch from alto to baritone sax. This was because I was not very good and no one wanted to play baritone but I did it quite well. There I learned that a baritone sax really does not play with the sax section. The arrangements were written so that the baritone plays kind of a counter melody with the trombones and bass.

It was also there that I had my first beer. Having been raised in the Methodist church, any alcohol was forbidden and even at communion they gave grape juice instead of wine. This is how Mr. Welch, who was a devout Methodist, started his company “Welch's Grape Juice”. After reading the Bible I found that Jesus drank wine so who am I do otherwise?

The Duke campus at that time was split – one part was for males and one part was for females. There was a bus which took us to the girl's campus but we had to register to enter. How times change. There was also a large bronze statue at the entrance of the girls campus of Mr. Duke seated. The legend at that time was that the statue would stand up if a virgin entered.  Today he would probably remain seated but times were different then.

There I also learned a bit about people. We were told that the workers who cleaned the halls (we cleaned our own rooms) would ask us for a loan. The people “in the know” said “If they ask for a loan of $5.00, don't loan it to them because they will dodge you forever. But, instead, give them a $1.00 and they will be forever loyal”. Piense en ello.

I always seemed to have two close friends. I have found that this is about the total number of close friends one can have even though you may have hundreds of acquaintances. My two close friends at that time were Harrison “Hap” Marshall and Adrian Testerman. Adrian was dating a girl on the other campus whose name was “Bobbie”. A delightful, intelligent and very rich girl. Unfortunately, she was born with an eye problem and Hap and I would say “Are you still dating Cross?”

After the war, Adrian married Bobbie and Hap and I were humiliated since we were invited to the wedding.  I am still in touch with Hap who lives in Greenville, SC but we have not seen each other for a long time. To my distress, I found that Adrian and Bobbie had divorced, Adrian married a second time and passed away a few years ago. Our reunion, which we had planned for years, will have to wait.

So – on to

1944

PARRIS ISLAND

There have been many books written and movies made about Boot Camp in the Marines and it is something special and is part of the reason for the reputation of the Corps. It was tough but perhaps we had it a little easier than a raw recruit coming in cold. The job of the drill instructors (D I's) was to instill blind discipline (which they surely did), teach us to march and strip an M-1 rifle. We already knew how to do the last two so their job was easier. For this reason, we perhaps did not get as much abuse as is normal. However, I do remember when I lost my locker key. The punishment for this was to put a bucket over your head, run up and down before the Platoon flapping your arms like wings and yelling “I am a shit bird from Yemassee, I lost my locker key”. Yemassee was a small town on the mainland across from Parris Island. Our train stopped there on the way from Durham to Parris Island and it was not exactly the Orient Express. There was such a shortage of rail cars that everything which would run was pressed into service. Ours had kerosene lamps and a pot bellied stove for heat. Although we griped about this, the guys from the First Division who were on Guadalcanal would have swapped with us gladly.

This was when I first learned of Government Morals. I had always been taught “Thou shalt not steal”. When we reported, we were issued two sheets and a blanket for the bunks. When I went in to my assigned bunk, there was no blanket. I reported this to the DI he said “I signed for all of these blankets so you will not go to lunch with the rest of the Platoon but when we get back from lunch I expect to see a blanket on your bunk”.  The message was clear and while everyone was a lunch I went to the next Platoon and stole a blanket. How many times this happened and who finally ended up without a blanket, I do not know.

One of our lessons in Boot Camp was to learn how to box. The assistant DI said “Today we are going to learn to box. Are there any professional boxers here?”  No hands were raised. Are there any Golden Glove Boxers here?” Two hands were raised. “You two fall out”. “Are there any college boxers here?”  4 hands were raised. “You 4 fall out”. “Are there any street fighters here?' Two hands were raised. “You 2 fall out”.  “Now, after eliminating these people, I assume that I know more about boxing than you.” and he proceeded to give us a lesson from which even the pros and amateurs learned something because it was not just boxing but total self defense. He taught us that, if the Marcus of Queensbury rules don't apply, a blow to the Adam's apple, a kick on the knee, a stomp on the instep and other areas which shall remain unmentionable, is more effective than a right cross to the jaw.

Our DI's were very good and honorable but tough. Some were not so honorable. One of my staff when I was in China told me a story about when he was in Boot Camp. In the barracks there was a walled off section where the DI lived. My friend told me that one night when they had just come back from “chow”, the DI was in his room. In a loud voice he said “I had $5.00 and I was going over to the NCO club to drink some beer but I lost the $5.00 somewhere – so, I guess we will have to stay here and have a field day (which meant scrubbing the floor with toothbrushes).

One of the recruits yelled out “I found 50 cents of your $5.00. Another chimed in “I found 75 cents” until the entire $5.00 appeared and the DI had his evening and the boots had some rest.

After 4 weeks we earned the ultimate privilege – going to a movie.  The screen was outdoors and we arranged our selves in the sand. If you build up a little mound behind your back, it can be quite comfortable sitting in the sand. Before we went we asked “What is on at the movie?”

The DI's always replied “12 rounds of grab ass starring Shirley Temple and Boris Karloff.” I guess this was part of their training – but you know, the expression “Grab Ass” was pretty accurate when applied correctly. If you remember when you were a pre teenager, all of the boys were constantly tripping each other, pushing each other, grabbing each other and fretting the girls. Other, more civilized persons than Marines probably called this “Horse Play”.

Before I leave Parris Island I must speak of the sand fleas. The environmentalist will tell you that every living thing on earth has a reason for being. If the sand flea has a reason, it must be to pester Marines at Boot Camp. When you are in formation at attention, you cannot move a muscle. If a sand flea crawls up you nose, as they are prone to do, all you can do is swallow them. At any formal parade on Parris Island you would hear “snuff, snuff” – indicating that another sand flea had bitten the dust – or at least the digestive tract. Are they rich in protein? Only the DI Knows.

Then we graduated and received the rank of PFC – Private First Class!!

This meant $5.00 per month raise and an attitude of superiority over the poor buck private.

Also, if you shot Expert on the rifle range this meant another $2.50 per month plus a medal.

And – off to Camp Lejeune to learn how to kill Japs (although we did not really want to kill anybody – except for a few DI's)

1944-1945

CAMP LEJEUNE (1)

Although I did not realize it, this was to be my first time at Camp Lejeune. It is perhaps the largest base in the Marine Corps and is situated in the eastern part of North Carolina, close to Jacksonville NC and not too far from Wilmington NC How many square miles it encompasses I do not know but it numbers in the hundreds of thousands and borders on the Atlantic Ocean and the Inland Waterway.

We were put in Companies according to our age (which at that time was 19 for me and the others in our company). We now had a collar adornment which said “OCS”.  This stood for Officer Candidate School. Needless to say, the other troops training at Camp LeJeune did not like us very much.

One thing I have found in war time is that those who survive do not talk about the terrible things which happen but about the funny things. I recall that we had maneuvers in the Boondocks and we had a box lunch. This consisted of a ham sandwich with mayonnaise. Having been in the heat for a long time, when we ate the sandwich, it got all of us.

Upon returning to the barracks, it hit us. After much study by architects and engineers it was determined that toilet facilities are needed for 5% of the group involved. When 100% have the “Green Apple Quick Step”, 5% ain't enough. I recall going into our own bathroom which had about 10 toilets and saying “Please get up”. The occupant would say” I would like to but I can't”.

Then I would go to the next barracks and say “Please get up”. The occupant would say” I would like to but I can't”.

Statistics do not always work.

My Mother sent me some candy and I ate it all in one night. The next day I had a stomach ache. I went to sick bay and asked for some medicine. The doctor said “Let me check you”. He punched on my stomach and I almost jumped through the ceiling. He said “You have acute appendicitis. I am sending you to the hospital”. I was put in a truck with a group of prisoners who were also going to the hospital. We arrived at the hospital and sat on benches, waiting. After about 2 hours they got to me and asked for the papers I was carrying. The nurse said “My God, you have acute appendicitis. Get on this stretcher”. I was sent to the operating room and operated on immediately. Instead of stitches I had staples. These rusted and gave me some problems. I don't think the surgeons use these anymore. I was in a ward of about 150 others, most of whom were gunshot wounds from Guadalcanal so I felt kind of inferior – but it was a fun group. When the lights went out there were always jokes and songs – mostly vulgar. After about 4 days I was up on my feet and was assigned to clean the bathroom even though I could not straighten up.  One day, after mopping the bathroom a Lieutenant Nurse came in and said “This is not good enough. Do it over”. As she left I said “Bitch”. She said “What did you say?” I said “I have an itch under the scar”.

After two weeks the doctor came in and said “There is a hospital in your home town of Asheville. We can send you there for two months to recuperate”. I declined this because I would lose my class and would fall behind. If I had accepted this I probably would not have gone to Guam or China. Was I smart or stupid?

We worked hard and learned a lot. The war was in full force in Europe and the Pacific. We were headed for the Pacific and we knew it.

I began to write to Ann again and while she was still preoccupied with other suitors, I was still enchanted. To my surprise and pleasure, I found that because of transportation and cost to Brenau, she had transferred to Mary Washington College in Fredericksburg, Va. which was close to Quantico where I was going next.

1945

QUANTICO

I arrived in Quantico and, although it was tough, I enjoyed it thoroughly. This was Officers Candidate School so we had a few amenities which we did not have in Parris Island or  Camp LeJeune. We ate at tables for four with chairs instead of a long table on benches and we were called “Mister”. The best part was the quality of the instructors.

Although our primary purpose was to learn to kill people, we also learned the skills of leadership and organization. Both of these principles apply to life in any field. Since that time, I have been interested in the principles of leadership and organization which are put forth by many prominent people. I am not a great student of the Bible but if I remember correctly, Moses, who was known for his leadership, found himself bogged down in settling disputes among his subjects and did not have time to govern. He went to his father in law whose name was (I think) Jethro. Jethro said “Make men captains of tens, captains of hundreds and captains of thousands – then you work with the captains of thousands but don't forget the individuals. This has remained a principle of the military, business and government.

General Eisenhower said “Leadership is a business of push and pull. If you put a piece of string on the table and push it, it will fold up. If you pull it, it will follow you. If you want a promotion, you must push the person above you to create a spot for your promotion but – you must also pull the person below you to fill your spot so that you can be promoted.”

Henry Ford, who did not invent the automobile but who did invent mass production, was once asked by reporters “Mr. Ford, are you an engineer?”  He replied ” No, but I can push this button on my desk and the best 10 engineers in the country will be here in 10 minutes”. He was not afraid to surround himself with good people.

Again, at Quantico, we had a relatively easy time compared to the people who came in cold. There was a program where applicants came in directly from civilian life and had to be taught all of the basics of being a Marine. We had been in V-12 for a year, in Parris Island for 10 weeks and Camp Lejeune for a year. This made it easy for the instructors so they made it (relatively) easy on us.

As in all walks of life there are tragedies but in the military there are more than normal. My fist view of a dead person was at Quantico. We went into the field to be shown how to blow a tank trap with explosives. We were perhaps 1/2 mile away and when the charge was set off great pieces of rock and dirt were blown into the air. The explosive was too big and rocks began to rain down on us. One large rock, the size of a basketball hit one of our platoon on the head. He was perhaps 20 feet away from me. He died instantly.  This was my first real insight into the horrors of war – but it happens on the highway at the rate of 50,000 per year.

I called Ann and arranged our first date as soon as I had a free week end. I went to the train station to go to Fredericksburg and was hit by the “Gallops”. I went to sick bay and they gave me paregoric. This stopped the problem but I felt terrible. When I got to Mary Washington I went through the grilling that the house mothers used to do and they called Ann. I shall never forget her running down the hall, dressed in a gray flannel skirt, a pink angora sweater, pink angora bobby socks and loafers. She threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. Me enganché.

We began to meet in Washington, DC which was a short train ride for both of us. Ann stayed with her Aunt and Uncle – Bill Clarkson who was a Colonel stationed at the Pentagon. Colonel Clarkson was very self confident gentlemen and many called him arrogant – but I liked him. He was in the army before the war started and was a Warrant Officer. I don't know if this rank still exists but at that time it was between “enlisted” and “officer”. When the war started he was promoted to a commissioned officer – a Captain I think – and was sent on a special mission to General Clair Chennault's “Flying Tigers”. They were volunteers fighting with China against the Japanese. Colonel Clarkson got sick and was flown to Hong Kong for treatment. While he was there, the Japanese attacked and all of the Americans were taken prisoner. Bill told me they spent 5 days on the roof of the American Embassy firing at the Japanese Zeros with 45 caliber pistols.  This is like a bullfighter attacking a bull with a pen knife but it was all they could do. Hong Kong fell and they were captives. For about one year, he was missing in action as far as his family knew. During his captivity he drew up some “official” documents transferring himself to the diplomatic corps. After about a year there was a negotiation whereby the diplomats were returned to the USA on a Swedish ship – I think it was the Gripsholm – and he was on it. While the ship was leaving the harbor his subterfuge was discovered and the Japanese tried to stop the ship but the captain would not turn back so Bill returned to the USA.

He was sent to the Walter Reid Army hospital at Bethesda because of under nourishment. After checking him, the doctor said “We have to get some weight back on you. To help your appetite, what would you like to drink before dinner?”  He said “I would like a Scotch and soda”.  – and that was his medicine. It don't get no better than this in the hospital

I called Ann for a date in Washington and this was before direct dialing. The operator said ” President Roosevelt just died'. I got the news before it came out in the papers and CNN was not in operation at that time.

At that time a hotel room in Washington was almost impossible to get but we had a system. The Willard hotel, an old but famous hotel always had suites available. Five of us would go together to rent a suite and although there were only two beds. We would sleep on the floor, sofa or wherever. Since we did not sleep much on the weekends it really did not matter. One weekend Ann did not have permission to visit her Aunt and Uncle but she came to Washington anyway. Her friend came with her and others in our group at the Willard had girl friends. We all stayed in the suite. Fear not – this was not an orgy. We were of a different generation so we moved the mattresses off the bed and two girls slept on the springs, two on the mattresses and the guys slept on the floor. Since one bed was in one room and one in the other, we had to pass the mattresses through the window since they would not go through the door. We were on the 12th floor. The next morning Ann and I went to have breakfast at a diner across from the hotel. We looked up and saw a mattress being passed from one room to the other on the 12th floor. Fortunately the management was not looking.

On another week end, Ann told me she was “campused” and could not meet me in Washington. I called Sara Bohannon, a good friend and ex classmate at Biltmore Tech who was going to George Washington University. We met and had a good time re hashing old times – nothing romantic. I had always wondered what Sara's father did since they lived in Grove Park, belonged to the Country Club and traveled a lot. I found that he was a lobbyist for the oil industry – an occupation which I am sure is on going.

It turned out that Ann was not “Campused” but was meeting an old high school  boy friend. My friend, Fred Williams bumped into them accidentally and talked Ann into returning on the same train with us. To my surprise, when I went to the station to meet Fred, there was Ann. Stan Kenton was playing a concert at Quantico that night and I asked Ann to get off at Quantico and go to see Kenton because he had Anita O'Day singing with him and she was great. It was strictly prohibited for any girl from Mary Washington to get off at Quantico – but you know Annie – so she did. We were disappointed to find that Anita O'Day had left the band but her replacement was June Christie who went on to her own fame in the Jazz world. We got Ann safely on the late train and she managed to conceal her activities from the Wardeness at the school.

Finally, in June of 1945, graduation day came. I invited Ann to attend. She really wanted to go to the graduation of her favorite cousin, Billy Clarkson at West Point but Billy talked her into coming to Quantico because he was to be married right after graduation and Ann would not really get to see him. I have been grateful to Billy but I never got to meet him. He was killed in a fighter plane crash in Germany.

Ann returned to Asheville with me on the Southern Railroad – what used to be a fine form of transportation. She stayed for one glorious week and when she returned to Lynchburg, I left for Camp Pendleton.

We were allowed the equivalent of train fare from Quantico to Los Angeles with 5 days per diem for meals but the option of how to get there was open. I elected to go by plane – my first trip in the air.

1945

CAMP PENDLETON

I caught American Airlines from Knoxville, Tennessee to LA It was on a DC 3 and took 18 hours. I thought it was incredible. Upon arrival, being a Jazz fan, I went to the Hollywood Palladium to hear Les Brown. Doris Day was singing with him at the time.

The next day I reported to Camp Pendleton and began 2 months of Troop Leaders School. Most civilians think the military spends its time shooting and crawling through the mud – and there is plenty of this – but a great deal of time in training officers is spent on learning how to instruct your troops and to make effective plans. There are many incompetent leaders (and followers) in the military but when the chips are down the cream comes to the top and an Eisenhower, Patton, Bradley, Vandergrift, Puller or hundreds of others emerge. The skills I learned there stood me in good stead later in life in business. I had always wanted to be a teacher anyway but I had to wait for my son and granddaughter to fulfill this ambition.

We worked 6 days and had 2 days off so our “weekends” moved up one day each week. This was the pattern in all of the military installations in the area. If a normal 5 day week had been in effect, the number of service men descending on Hollywood, LA and San Diego at one time would have sunk the southern coast of California.

Our normal routine during these two months was to go to the Hollywood Palladium the first night of our pass, meet some girls, dance and do whatever your morals dictated (mine were pretty dull), save enough money to go to Laguna Beach  to drink beer and body surf in the wonderful waves at this beach. I should point out that even though I was a Marine Lieutenant, I could not buy a drink in California because the age limit was 21 and I was 20. Being of sound mind and body and being thirsty I changed my birth date on my ID card from 1925 to 1923 with one stroke of the pen. Also, it was most embarrassing to invite a young lady to dinner and have the waiter refuse to serve you a drink.

One week end a friend asked me to join him in La Jolla which was just north of San Diego (and is now part of metropolitan San Diego). Having no knowledge of Spanish, I was hearing “Lahoya”. I went on the bus, missed the sign and ended up in San Diego.

Then came our orders to pack up and paint “DUVA” on our sea trunks and sea bags.  This was a top secret code but everyone seemed to know it meant “Guam”.

1945

Grupo GUAM

We boarded ship in San Diego and became part of one of the most costly mistakes in World War II (of which , I am sure, there were many). The ship was an AKA and the only cargo was 21 brand new, wet behind the ears, Marine Second Lieutenants. While we were zig zaging across the Pacific for 28 days, the atomic bomb was dropped. The crew, knowing that we were the only cargo on a ship which would hold a battalion and equipment, were convinced that we were specialists connected to the atomic program. After denying this for a week, we finally began to say, “Yes, but it is top secret and we can't talk about it”.

Upon arriving on Guam, we were all sent to the Transit Center which consisted of a series of tents with wooden floors. We waited, we waited and we waited. Guam had been “secure” for over a year after the Marines landed there and on Tinian which was close by but there were a number of Japanese in the Jungle who did not get the word that the Island had been captured. From time to time, some of these would be captured and they always wore Marine green underwear which they had stolen off the clothes lines at various locations.

To break the monotony of waiting, I decided to hitchhike to North Field to see where some of the planes had taken off for Tokyo. As I recall, the planes carrying the Atomic Bombs had left from Tinian or Saipan and had landed on the return at Okinawa (they did not have fuel to get all the way back). This explained why taking Okinawa had been so important. While on Guam we saw the battle plan for the invasion of Japan with the estimate of hundreds of thousands of casualties. Thanks to Harry Truman's decision to drop the bombs, I am still alive.

While I was standing on the road waiting for a Jeep or truck to come by and give me a lift to North Field, there was a great crashing sound in the jungle. I was unarmed and assumed that a Japanese soldier was coming out. Instead, a huge water buffalo with big horns emerged. He looked at me, I looked at him. He turned and retreated into the jungle. Only the laundry man and I will know how scared I was.

Se nos asignó finalmente a una unidad. Five of us were assigned to the 2nd battalion, 22nd Marines. Later, after I was promoted to First Lieutenant and became a human being in the eyes of the enlisted men, the First Sergeant told me that when the 5 of us reported he said “My God, here is the basketball team from Podunk High School”.

Adrian Testerman was in our group and he was assigned to be the Adjutant. I was assigned to be S-2, Combat Intelligence Officer. He and I did some “networking” and found that Hap Marshall had landed and was assigned to the 29th Marines across the Island. We walked over and had a good reunion.

We received orders to pack up and leave for China. I was given a work detail with the second platoon of company D to load the ship. Up until this time, the only command I had had was a platoon or a company made up of officer candidates. All of these were eager to do well and get good grades from the instructors so if you gave a command or instruction, they did their best to comply. How naive can you get when entering the real world?

I marched the Platoon to the dock and met the crane operator. He was leaving for supper and would be back in one hour. He also told me that I needed only half the platoon at one time so I divided them up in group 1 and group 2 and told them to relax until the crane operator returned. When he returned I called out “Group one, fall in”. After several shouts with no action, I began to look around. I found one Marine under a tarpaulin drinking pineapple juice which he had found in the shipment and had opened with a bayonet. When I asked if he were in group one he of course said “No.” Wising up, I found some more, here there and yonder. I would ask which group they were in and when they replied either one or two, I would say “Fall in, your group is working.” In this manner I had gathered up about 10 people. I went to search for more and when I returned there was no one there. I then found another eating corned beef which he had discovered in the shipment. I asked his name and when he gave it I said “Private, you have 10 minutes to find your platoon sergeant.  He reported in about 2 minutes. I told him to locate both groups and have them fall in. He yelled “Alright, all you SOB's from the first platoon, company D, fall in.”  They came from all directions and this was the last time I by passed a chain of command.

We completed loading and left for China.

1945-1946

CHINA

After about three days at sea we ran into a Typhoon. Ropes were tied on the deck for those who had to go out but most stayed inside. Sleeping was difficult because of the pitching and rolling. When we looked out the portholes at other ships in the convoy, it appeared the Destroyer Escorts were going under. They would disappear behind the waves and then break water like a fish jumping. I am told that even the sailors with much time aboard did not make a meal for three days. We had a Chinese interpreter attached to Division Intelligence and he was sick the whole time. Fearing for his health, we finally convinced him to come to a meal. In the officers wardroom the plates were placed upside down and were turned over for serving when you sat down. This poor fellow turned his plate over and promptly threw up in it. The rest of the table rose, as if on command, and retired.

The fourth day the storm passed and we spent much time on deck watching the flying fish (they don't have those in Asheville, NC) I was standing by a Gunnery Sergeant who had previously been in China in the 30's. I said “Gunny, how will we know when we are getting close?” He replied “You will smell it.”

We were prepared for a combat landing because there were several divisions of Japanese in Tsingtao and we were not sure they had gotten the word that the war was over. However, we received radio messages from the Chinese military that all was quiet so we docked in the harbor. To make sure everything was calm we sent a reconnaissance platoon ashore. This was commanded by a lieutenant who was known by the name of “Whiskey”. This had come from the Okinawa campaign where he was famed for always finding something to drink.

Whiskey was gone for some time with no radio messages and we began to be concerned. He finally returned, without his hat. The welcome from the Chinese was joyful and his jeep had been surrounded by a group of “Ladies of the Night.” They sang out “Fuckee ?, Suckee?” to which Whiskey replied “Both.”

We disembarked and took over Shantung University which had been the Japanese Naval Academy. Field grade officers were quartered in houses outside the compound. We junior officers were 8 to a room in what had been class rooms. There appeared on the scene a Chinaman dressed in a long white gown, just like in the movies. He spoke a little English since he had been houseboy to the Marines in the 30's. He asked for a job as our houseboy and I hired him. He cleaned our room, shined our boots and we taught him to clean our weapons.  This was soon discovered by a Major and since the Field grade officers did not have a house boy, we were ordered to fire him. In about two months, everyone, including the non coms had house boys and we were allowed to re hire our friend.

Our mission was to send the Japanese back to Japan but first we had to take a formal surrender. This took place on the grounds of the local race track. Our division stood in ranks while the Japanese officers paraded by our commanding General and place their swords in a huge pile. (These became souvenirs which were given out by rank. There weren't enough to filter down to 2nd lieutenants.) This ceremony, which was quite impressive, was very tiring. We were at parade rest for over 4 hours in the hot sun. Viewed from the front of the ranks, it was a very orderly, military sight. But – a plane took aerial photos and from about the fifth row back, guys were sitting down, lounging and smoking. When these came out the general's staff spent weeks identifying who was where in each company.

We soon found that the local Generals in the Chinese army were responsible for funding their own armies. This resulted  not only in taxes but there were groups of Chinese soldiers who were going into the European sector, entering the house at gun point and taking whatever was available. We started patrols, day and night, in this sector to prevent this. Most of the European population was white Russians who had been in Tsingtao for years. There were also a few English and French. Most of these were sent back to their own country by the Chinese government and it was tough because many had never been to their own country.

Chang was still in charge at that time but the Communists controlled all of China except those cities where there was a Marine contingent. Besides Tsingtao, we had units in Shanghai and Tientsin. Because of this we had to set up a defense line around the airport and around the whole city. We had gun positions and fox holes prepared and could move out to these in a very short time. Because of some sniping and other activity, we were called to move to these positions several times – usually a 2 or 3:00 in the morning.

On one such trip, as day light crept up, I noticed something moving in the trees. I went to investigate and found a Chinaman hanging, an apparent suicide. His possessions were on the ground – a pipe, a small amount of tobacco and a small pocket knife and from his clothing he was obviously a poor peasant. I did not touch anything and upon our return, I reported this to my counterpart in the Chinese intelligence. We went back to these positions three days later and I found that the poor fellow was still hanging but his meager belongings were gone and his clothes had been stolen. I returned to the city, strapped on a .45 pistol (which I normally did not carry), went to the police station and demanded that someone accompany me to the site, cut the poor fellow down and bury him – and they did.

I tried to get one of the trips on an LST returning the Japanese troops to Japan but they always went with a staff sergeant in charge so I never saw Japan except when I was leaving on a ship for home, I got a glimpse of  Mount Fujiama .

After all of the Japanese had been returned we really did not have much to do. We had close order drill in the mornings and were encouraged to participate in sports in the afternoon. I played a lot of tennis – not exactly the thing you brag about when asked about your military service.

I had the good fortune to report to Captain Jack Marston, an excellent officer and later a good friend. Jack was the son of General John Marston who was the Commandant of Camp Lejeune when I was there. Needless to say, I did not know the General.  Jack was one of the older more experienced officers – he was 25. Our battalion commander, Colonel Stephens was known affectionaly as “The Old Man”. He was 28. I had my 21st birthday in Tsingtao. As best I can remember, it was a fine party and used up our ration of two bottles of bourbon per month for several months.

Since the war was over, many officers who had been desk bound were anxious to have overseas service on their records and many applied. Most of them were excellent officers who, through no fault of their own or because of a special skill, were assigned to Washington. Some were just opportunists. One of the latter was a Major assigned to the Regimental Intelligence Section and when I had the duty as Officer of the Day, he called and said he wanted to accompany me on the inspection of all of the guard posts.

We started at the dock and as our jeep approached we were halted and asked for the password. I gave this and we drove up to the sentry, an old country boy from Tennessee. He said “Evenin' Lt. Tilson, evenin' Major and I replied “Good evening, Herman. Everything quiet here?” “Yessir, no action.” The Major looked at the paper listing all of the guard posts and said “Private this is a two man post. I am going to report your partner for deserting his post!!”  To which Herman replied “Oh he ain't deserted his post Major. We seen you coming and didn't know who you was. He's in that clump of bushes over yonder and he's got an M-1 rifle pointed right at your head.“ To my credit, I was able to stifle my laughter.

Buck Thalheimer, a friend from Quantico, and I became friends with Mr. Yen Chi Dong, a wealthy Chinese merchant who had a big house right outside of our compound. As was the custom, we would take him to dinner one night and the next time was his turn. His beautiful young wife, who I saw by accident once in his house, never was present but his brothers and his mother quite often joined us. Once we went to a restaurant which had 5 floors. It got better as the floors increased. The first floor was for walk in patrons and the fifth, where we ate, was all private dining rooms with each person having a waitress. My waitress had gold teeth and was ugly by any standards. Mr. Yen offered her to me if I wished. Besides her being ugly, I had been so frightened by the training films on VD that I had no interest.

I defended several enlisted men as a result of my reputation on Guam. I had forgotten about this until 1993 when I was handling a loan with option to buy for Cartonera Hernandez. The negotiation was with Union Camp (recently bought by International Paper) and I was thrown against some of the finest lawyers in the USA and Dominican Republic. This resulted in the following letter:

15 de noviembre 1993

To: Dr. Ramon Caceres – Troncoso y Caceres

Mr. Jeffery Fraum Esq. – Counsel – Union Camp

Mr. William Lets Esq. – Counsel – Bank of New York

Lic. Georges  Santoni – Herridia Bonetti

Mr. Victor Alvarez Esq. – White & Case

Mr. Donald Baker Esq.  -  White & Case

From: MB Tilson

Señores,

We have successfully completed the negotiations between Cartonera Hernandez and Union Camp/Bank of New York for the $15 million transaction.

As I recall, the gestation period of an elephant is quite long so I think we have given birth to an elephant rather than a baby.

During this extended period I sent many lawyer jokes to Jeff but perhaps the best joke of the whole transaction was when Jeff sent me a package addressed to “MB Tilson, Esquire”.

Georges Santoni , who received a copy, called me and said “Are you a lawyer?”

I told him it was a joke from Jeff but after I hung up the phone I realized that I was a lawyer before any of you.

In 1945 I was serving as combat intelligence officer for the 22nd Marine Regiment on Guam. We were scheduled for a combat landing on the mainland of Japan but, thanks to the atomic bombs, we were diverted to China instead.

Since Guam was secure, except for a few Japanese in the jungle who would not believe the war was over, we allowed the men to go on liberty into the small villages on the island.

One of the men in my section was put in the brig and was scheduled for a court martial for “lewd and lascivious conduct unbecoming a Marine”.

When I asked his friends what he had done they said “He was waving his dick at a gook girl” (The Marine fighting man was not very reverent).

This was before the Code of Military Justice went into effect and the custom was to appoint an officer as defense attorney. The legal officer of the Regiment acted as the prosecutor. I was appointed as defense attorney and so, I became a lawyer in 1945.

Several of you were not born at that time and I am sure none of you were yet lawyers.

Yo era eminentemente calificado para esto desde que tenía 20 años y había pasado los últimos tres años aprendiendo a matar gente.

Pero - lo hice saber el dilema que enfrentan los abogados cuando su deber es defender a su cliente a pesar de que saben, o por lo menos sospechoso, que es culpable.

In this case the client readily admitted that he had indeed done this but he had not been arrested at the scene. The MP's came for him only after the young lady reported him.

He further stated that she had decided not to appear against him and that his story to the Military Police was that he was not in the city but was visiting his brother who was on a submarine which had arrived at the port in Guam.

Since I knew, or at least thought, that the burden of proof was on the prosecution, my defense was as follows:

I did not let him testify. I submitted to the court the record showing that he was off the base on authorized liberty. I entered into the record his statement about visiting his brother on a submarine. He did not name the submarine because the coming and going of submarines was top secret at that time.

Since the young lady did not wish to testify and since the court could not disprove the submarine story, I rested my case.

He was convicted anyway and sentenced to six months in the brig with loss of pay for this time.

After two months, the verdict was reversed by the Judge Advocate General's Office in Washington for lack of evidence. He was released and his pay restored.

The consensus of the men in the Regiment was that he should have been punished but after 2 months in the brig with 10 days on cake and ale (which you civilians would call bread and water), this was enough. Besides, having been in the Pacific for three years, all he was doing was advertising which is nothing but good business.

The word of the reversal spread through the Regiment and, after reaching China, I defended several more cases. I was known to the men as the “Perry Mason of the 22nd Marines”.

So you see, Gentlemen, I am not a lawyer but I used to be.

Un cordial saludo,

Having not much to do, we organized a dance band and played at the enlisted club twice a week. The men were allowed to bring Chinese girls to these dances. Three of us were officers and were not supposed to be in the enlisted club so we took off the bars on our collar. Since there were no stripes on our sleeves, we appeared to be buck privates and quite often had to take a lot of lip from drunk corporals. Occasionally a fight would break out between sailors and Marines. The only way to stop it was to start playing The Star Spangled Banner. When the National Anthem was being played, all service men were required to stand at attention and salute. Francis Scott Key never knew how many broken bones, black eyes and bloody noses he would prevent.

I met an English journalist who had been sent to cover the operation. He encouraged me to enter the Diplomatic service when I returned home and finished my education. I asked him why he thought I could be a diplomat and he said ” When we have been playing bridge (which I was just learning) I have seen you open the bidding with two no trump without anything in your hand. As the hand progressed I could see no emotion to indicate that you were in trouble so I made many mistakes, assuming you had something hidden.” I sometimes wish I had taken his advice.

Then came the day we all had waited for. On the bulletin board was posted the names of those returning. These were listed in order of time spent overseas and my name was pretty close to the top since the real veterans of Iwo Jima, Okinawa etc. had already been sent home when the war ended. Also a chance came up for us to fly in Marine Corps fighter planes as passengers to Shanghai, Tientsin and Hong Kong. I did not take this because I was afraid of missing the next ship home. Adrian Testerman took a more logical approach saying “I'll never get this chance again and a few more months won't make any difference.” He took the trip and when he returned I was still waiting for the boat.

One reason I declined was that I had sent Ann an engagement ring and a wedding ring. I don't think I had ever formally proposed but she accepted and sent me a newspaper clipping with her picture and the engagement announcement. She still had a number of boys after her and she continued to date. Absence makes the heart grow fonder – but of whom??  Fortunately for me, when she met me in Asheville upon my return, she agreed completely.

We got word that we were going to pull out and we who remained were transferred to the Sin Wah Hotel. We were there for three weeks while we were loading the ship and the waiters and clean up people were fabulous. You could leave money on the table by the bed and nothing happened. But – the night before we left everyone knew we were leaving at 6:00 am. That morning every watch, fountain pen, wallet and money was gone – as were the waiters, cooks and clean up personnel.

I was in charge of loading the equipment for our Battalion on the ship. I was up for 36 hours and after boarding I slept for 16 hours straight. When I awakened, we were at sea.  A few days later we passed by Japan – but far away – but I did get a glimpse of the top of Mount Fujiyama – Spectacular.

We were on a ship with 5,000 men and the routine for the men was to eat breakfast and then get in line for lunch and after lunch, get in line for supper. Since I had been in charge of loading the ship the Colonel excused me from being on guard duty as officer of the day. Instead, he placed me in charge of the laundry. Can you imagine having to sort out green underwear, all identical except for the name stenciled on them, for 5,000 men?  He did me no favors.

Most of our band was on the ship so we re-organized and played on the fan tail each night. This would normally have been cocktail hour but, as you know, American ships are dry (at least they were after the booze sneaked aboard ran out).

Again we by passed Hawaii. I guess we were the only group going to the Pacific which did not stop in Hawaii going or coming. I am sorry I missed it.

One morning we were awakened by the fact that the ship was not moving. Coming on deck we sighted the lushest vegetation I had ever seen. After having been in China for a year and at sea for about 24 days, the sight of greenery was wonderful. We were anchored off Panama, ready to enter the Canal. This took all day and we all stood on deck watching. I would like to do it again someday because it is an experience which I shall never forget.

After passing through the Canal, we anchored on the Atlantic side and were told we would have two days liberty. The paymaster said we could draw whatever pay we had coming if we wished. I had $50.00 so I assumed that this was plenty. After returning the first night and having prowled all of the night clubs, I and many others had to go to the paymaster and ask for more. All of the clubs had girls who would come to the table, dance with the Marines and engage in lively conversation.  Of course we were expected to buy the girls drinks and, being young and naive, I did not know they were drinking tea and not bourbon.

The young Latin lovely for whom I had been buying drinks suddenly stood up and said “Excuse me, I am on.” In about 3 minutes she came on stage and did a most erotic strip tease on top of a drum. When she returned to the table, I did not know quite what to do. I guess I was like Gomer Pyle.

Having been raised in the South, perhaps the most astounding thing to me was to see black people speaking Spanish. In my town when you get past “Que horas son?” you are bilingual.

We boarded ship and headed for Norfolk, VA. After about 3 days we were off the coast of Virginia Beach where I would later spend happy vacations with Ann and later Bill and Kerry. We disembarked at Norfolk and boarded the train for Camp Lejeune. Since all of the Marines on the train were reservists going home, it was a little difficult to maintain discipline but, once a Marine, always a Marine and I was able to keep my group under reasonable control.

1946 – 1947

ASHEVILLE & UNC

We were all given 60 days leaving so I left for Asheville on the Greyhound bus. After 28 days aboard ship, this was luxury.  A few days later Ann arrived in Asheville with the possible idea of breaking our engagement. As she tells it, when she saw me walking across the station, she decided we were for real. (I was neat and trim at that time since, being in uniform, I did not have to pick out the proper tie to go with my shirt.)

After a visit in Asheville I returned to Lynchburg with Ann and we were married on November 9, 1946. We were both 21 years old. Because Ann has always looked younger than she is (she still does), her sister had to go to the Court House to swear that she was old enough to get a marriage license.

My family came up for the wedding and besides the traditional champagne and wedding cake, we had Virginia country ham on beaten biscuits. At last count my father had eaten about 3 gross. The wedding reception was in Ann's home and it was a beauty. The house was formerly owned by Carter Glass whose family had started the local newspaper. Carter was a senator and is responsible for the Federal Reserve Act. The house was rented but came up for sale a few years later. My wonderful father in law, Warren Simpson Sholes (who was known affectionately as “Bill”) was determined to buy it. He had to be out of town on business and left a friend with power of attorney at the auction. The man decided the bidding had gone too high and let it get away. I am not sure Bill ever got over this although the house he did buy was something special also.

Since I was getting paid for the dance jobs, I had enough in China to keep me in cigarettes and 10 cent beer and therefore I put away a big part of my small salary and had enough for a good honeymoon. Ann wanted to go to Bermuda but, having been overseas for over a year, I wanted to keep my feet in the USA. We went to Washington, DC to re-visit our dating days and then on to New York. We were driving Bill Sholes car. Since they only had one car, I don't know what he did to run his business while we were cruising all over in his car.

I have always been a Jazz fan and at that time 52nd street was a swinging place. Also each hotel and theater and night club had first class orchestra and small groups. We danced to Stan Kenton, Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa , Eddie Condon and listened to June Christy, Billie Holiday, the Ink Spots etc. It was great.

When we were in Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe an older gentleman sent us drinks. (People did that for service men at this time). Since that time, I have tried to do the same whenever possible.

We returned to Camp Lejeune where I received my discharge and accepted a permanent commission in the Marine Corps Reserve. Then back to Lynchburg and on to Asheville.

We were a rare couple – both virgins until we married. Ann's chastity was because that was what proper young ladies did at this time. Mine was probably for lack of opportunity and a fear of VD instilled by the Marine Corps training films. But there are many advantages to this situation. For one, you don't have to compare your mate with other encounters.

We rented a room in Asheville next door to my family while I waited to get into a University. I applied to Furman where Hap and Adrian were and was accepted but a week later I was accepted at UNC at Chapel Hill and this had always been my first choice so I was Happy!!!

Because of the GI Bill, all of the colleges in the country were expanding like wildfire. We went to Chapel Hill to find a place to live. All dormitories were for single students and all available houses, apartments and rooms had been rented. The university had established a trailer park but it was full. The only chance was to buy one on the site from someone graduating. We were lucky to find one and it was a palace – 20′ long and about 20 years old. This was before “trailers” became “mobile homes” and although we had running cold water in the sink, there was a common bath house in the middle of the park. Fortunately I did not have to get up in the middle of the night as I now do – Ah, Youth.

Since the next term did not start until January I took a job at my Alma Mater, McIntyre's Fruit Store. I earned $30.00 per week and could have joined the “52/20″ club at $20.00 for doing nothing. The 52/20 was another benefit offered to veterans to help them out until they could find work. It offered $20.00 per week for 52 weeks and all you had to do was to register and show that you could not find work in your field. One of my cousins registered as a snow plow operator and a friend registered as a commercial fisherman, neither occupation existed in Asheville. I preferred to retain my dignity and work, even though it was menial.

I filled in for one dance job with a local band but had to join the union to do it.

In January we left for Chapel Hill and arrived at night with a light snow on the ground. I could not get the kerosene heater lighted so we shivered all night under my Marine overcoat. The next day a neighbor showed me how to light the stove and the heater and life became more pleasant. I started classes and we settled in to being married – and it was fun.

I had many friends and acquaintances there and some of them were in the KA fraternity which was just a block up the street from our trailer. If I came home from class and Ann was not at the trailer, I knew I could find her playing poker at the KA house. Never a dull moment with that lady.

By this time the funds I had accumulated had run out and although the GI bill paid tuition and a small allowance, it would not support a wife. I took a job in the library at night and Ann got a job at a camera shop developing film. This was almost fatal for me.  One of her co-workers was a cute little blonde country girl who was the girl friend of Art Weiner, a star tight end on the football team. Art was about 6′5″ tall and weighed about 250 lbs. Ann bruised her arm one day and when her friend asked how she said “Charlie threw me up against the wall”. The girl was appalled and Ann said “Oh, he does this all the time.” Her friend was prepared to have Art Weiner punch me out until I convinced Ann to tell her that she was kidding.

Our entertainment was mainly events at the University so we were able to hoard enough to have dinner each week end at the Port Hole, the best restaurant in Chapel Hill. Their specialty for dessert was toasted pound cake with ice cream and the aroma of the pound cake permeated the whole restaurant – it was a delightful smell and I still find a dinner in a nice restaurant to be one of life's finest experiences.

We particularly enjoyed the basketball games. This was before integration and, had this not been changed there would have been no Michael Jordon at UNC.

After Biltmore Tech and a full 12 months at Emory and Duke I had only 6 months to go for a degree. I graduated in August with a BS in Commerce. I don't think they offer this degree any more. Usually a degree in commerce with a stress on accounting is a BA but ours had some engineering involved.

I was proud of the BS until it took on a more vernacular connotation in recent years.