From Cornbread ja Kaviaari - ja takaisin

(Ja takaisin?)

1925 - 1943

En ole koskaan nähnyt merta, kunnes minut lähetettiin Parris saaren Boot Camp Marine Corps. Sen jälkeen olen ollut 43 maassa ja laskenta - koska vuoden iässä 72, minulla on muutamia mielenkiintoisia hankkeita tuleen. Nämä hankkeet näyttävät silloin tällöin, ja välillä olen yrittänyt viihdyttää itseäni antamalla vähän kokemusta minulla on ollut onni "kestää".

Joitakin vuosia sitten, kun aloitin urani "kansainvälisen Gypsy" Tunsin, että liikekirjeet olivat pohjimmiltaan tylsää ja siten olivat yleensä huomiotta. Aloin yrittää kirjoittaa tavalla, joka olisi ehkä saada vastaanottajan tietoon. Koska tämän seurauksena vuosien ystävät ja kollegat ovat sanoneet "Sinun pitäisi kirjoittaa."

Kun olin ennen teini ja teini iästä olen ollut paljon baseball ja ajattelin, että olisi kiva olla ammattimainen baseballin pelaaja. Kun olin Kiinassa vuonna 1946 Yhdysvaltain merijalkaväki aloitimme baseball-joukkueen jälkeen meillä oli lähettänyt Japanin takaisin Japaniin ja siellä ei ole paljon tekemistä. En tee rykmentin ensimmäinen joukkue, mutta en päästä bat kerran vastaan mies, joka oli härkä kynä syöttäjä varten Chicago White Sox. Hän heitti nopeasti pallo, joka minusta näytti kuin aspiriinia tabletti lähestyvän 90 mailia tunnissa ja tuomari huusi "Strike". Hän heitti toinen, joka pelotti minua kuolemaan - toinen lakko. Kolmas piki tuli aivan pääni ja että oikeakätisille taikina, juoksin kolmas perusviivasta pitää saamasta surmansa. Se kaareva yli Kilven keskikohta, tuomari huusi "Strike Three".

Sitten tajusin, että en aio olla pro baseball pelaaja.

Myös aikana minun teens, kun aloin pelata saksofonia paikallinen tanssiorkesterit ja minun tavoite oli olla puoli mies yksi monista hyvistä yhtyeistä. Tämä aikakausi "Swing" ja suuret nimet olivat Miller, Goodman, Dorsey ym.

Joulukuussa 1942 kello vanhaksi 17, minulla oli soittaa bändi University of North Carolina. Heillä oli varannut kiertueen joulun ja uudenvuoden aikana ja 4 niiden 5 saksofoni pelaajia oli laadittu. He kutsuivat minut ja kaksi muuta jäsentä paikallinen bändi liittyä niihin. Kiertueen aikana ja myöhemmin Kiinassa, olin työskentelyä todellisen lahjakkuuden ja tajusin, että en aio olla ammattimuusikko.

Luettuani monia loistavia kirjoittajaa - ja jotkut eivät niin loistava - Ymmärrän myös, että en koskaan olla ammattilainen tällä alalla joko - mutta - aion kirjoittaa tätä lapsenlapseni siinä tapauksessa, että jonain päivänä he saattavat haluta tietää mistä ne tulivat. (Normaalisti olisin sanonut "mistä he tulivat", mutta muistan kun Winston Churchill oli chastised parlamentissa siitä prepositio lopussa lauseen. Hän vastasi moite sanomalla "Tämä on hävytöntä kanssa joita en ole laittaa ".

Ensimmäisen kerran joku sanoi minulle "Sinun pitäisi kirjoittaa" oli seurauksena ensimmäinen kirje Weyerhaeuser päämajaan kun ensimmäinen saapui Guatemalassa. Aioin kautta tiedostoja, kun saavuin ja huomasin, että kirjeet kuukausittain sanoi, enemmän tai vähemmän "Myyntiluvut ovat nousseet 1,3% saman kuukauden aikana viime vuonna. Hallinnolliset kulut ovat 6,8% verrattuna 6,7% viime vuonna. Varasto on 1200 tonnia. Jne., jne. "

Koska tehdas Guatemalassa oli hyvin pieni, jonka Weyerhaeuser standardit, päätin, että kukaan ei aio lukea tämän tyyppistä mietintöä, varsinkin kun hän oli tekemisissä monien yritysten ulkomailla.

Ensimmäinen kirje oli seuraava:

Mr. Ivan Wood

Johtaja, International

Weyerhaeuser Company

Tacoma, Washington

Hyvä Ivan,

Kuten tiedätte, United Fruit Company avasi oman laatikko kasvi ja Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala juuri menettänyt 45% sen toiminnasta. Luonnollisesti tämä on aiheuttanut tappiota kuussa.

Tulemme takaisin niin pian kuin mahdollista ja oletan siksi sinä minut tänne.

Viime keskiviikkona sissit tappoivat Yhdysvaltain suurlähettiläs ja kaikki ulkomaalaiset täällä eivät uskalla S-vähemmän. Koska ex Marine, uskon, että voin hoitaa sen.

Olen alkanut sopeutua kulttuuriseen muutokseen hitaasti. Kun tulin, huomasin, että kaikki talot oli muuri ympärillä ja nurmikon ja puutarhan hoitoon oli tässä yhdiste.

Oletin oli suojaa, joka on osittain oikeassa, mutta se on enemmän käytännön syytä olla.

Guatemala on sadekausi kuusi kuukautta ja kuiva kausi kuusi kuukautta. Kuiva kausi aiheuttaa äärimmäisen vesipulan ja rotujen bakteereja.

Useimmat ihmiset ajattelevat, että ongelman vesipula on, että ei ole juomavettä. On aina olut, koksin ja sooda vettä. Todellinen ongelma on, että et voi vetää vessa, mutta kerran.

Asua talossa, jossa on kolme henkilöä ja piika kun bakteerit on aiheutettu jokainen kanssa "vihreä omena Quick Step", ja vain se voi huuhtoa wc kun on ylä-ja ulkopuolella Call of Duty.

Se oli tuolloin, että tajusin arvo seinän yksityisyyden ja käytännössä kaikkien kauniita puita ja pensaita puutarhaan.

Kissani, joka on ollut paljon kokemusta tällaista asiaa, tuli toinen.

Terveisin,

MB Tilson

Asheville, NC

Ehkä otsikko tämä pieni kirjeen hämmentää - haluaisin selventää.

Synnyin Asheville, NC vuonna 1925. Perheeseeni oli "keskituloisten" - ei pidä sekoittaa "keskiluokka". Poikani, Bill, hänen thesis ja maisterin tutkinnon Arkkitehtuuri kirjoitti "jälkeen pitkä ja mielenkiintoinen lapsuus" - Haluan poliisi tämä lause koska minäkin, oli pitkä ja mielenkiintoinen lapsuus - mutta koska keskituloisten Etelä perhe, söimme paistettua kanaa ja cornbread. Olisi vuotta minulla on koskaan ollut rapusalaatti ja kaviaaria - mutta ne ovat hyviä!

Ja nyt, kun eläkkeelle, meillä on palannut cornbread. Pienellä onnella hieman kovaa työtä ja vielä muutaman vuoden, ehkä, kuten General MacArthur, palaamme.

Suuri laulaja, Pearl Bailey sanoi kerran: "Olen ollut huono, ja olen ollut rikas ja rikas on parempi".

Jos minun tarinani on kiinnostava vain siksi, että mielenkiintoisia ihmisiä, joiden kanssa olen ollut mukana. Tästä syystä aion kertoa monia tarinoita, osa ilman nimiä; "suojella ei niin viaton".

Jos minä viipyä menneisyydessä enemmän kuin tuleva kun siitä on enemmän entisen kuin jälkimmäinen.

Oletan paikka aloittaa on alussa. Synnyin Asheville, NC ja nimeltään Melvin Blalock Tilson Jr. Tämä on riittävä syy minulle hankkia nimimerkki "Charlie", joka on juuttunut minulle vuosien aikana.

Äitini, Mary Reagan oli nuorin 8 lasten JJ Reaganin ja Carolyn Pickens on Weaverville, NC - metropoli 500 ihmistä, joista suurin osa oli osoitettu nimellä "serkku" tai "täti" tai "setä", vaikka siellä voi ei ole perhettä yhteys. Tämä oli osoitus kunnioituksesta tuolloin. Lisäksi tuli kätevä outoja tapoja. Uncle Frank Weaver tapana istua penkillä Main Street. Koska hän oli mennyt vähän pyöreä puolivälissä, hän ei voinut zip housunsa kokonaan ylös. Myöhemmin, kun eräs mies perheenjäsenten unohtaisi pakata meillä oli vain sanoa "Hei, Uncle Frank" ja rikoksentekijän toteuttaa heti, mitä hän oli unohtanut.

Papa Reagan, kuten me kutsuimme meidän isoisä oli tunnettu "kahdeksas ranking matemaatikko Yhdysvalloissa." Tämä oli hyväksytty ja se ilmestyi hänen kuolinilmoitus. Mutta - noin 10 vuoden ikään, aloin kysyä itseltäni "Miten arvioisit Matematiikan?" Lyöntivuoro mestari lasketaan osumien vs. kertaa lyöntivuorossa. Priimuksena määritetään summa arvosanoja mutta kuinka sijoitus matemaatikot?

Kuten olen kasvoi older, uskon tajunnut, miten tämä nimi muuttunut.

Odd Fellows-talo paikallinen kerääminen paikalla ja sosiaalinen seuralle miesten Weaverville. Täällä he voivat mälliä ja pelata dominos. En oikein ymmärrä pelin, mutta tiedän, että miten ne pelit, se on matemaattinen toimitus. Papa yleensä oli, koska hän oli hyvä. Hän vastasi professoreita Yalen ja Harvardin ja he lähettivät toisilleen ongelmia ratkaista. Sanottiin, että hän voisi hypätä ylös keskellä yötä, kirjoita vastaus ongelmaan hänen yö paita, ja mennä nukkumaan, mutta - tämä ei vielä vastaa sijoitusta.

Olen nähdä, että kun on perusteellisesti voittaa "Fessor" Reagan, yksi ryhmä todennäköisesti kertoi "Fessor on todella fiksu. Hän on paras matemaatikko maassa ". Ja toinen vastasi: "No, en tiedä, on olemassa, että Einstein kaveri ja hän on aika fiksu." Ja sen jälkeen keskustelu, he sopivat, että ehkä hän ei ole numero yksi, mutta hän on numero 8. Tämä on minun teoria, mutta ehkä hän oli numero 3 - kuka tietää?

Koska college professorit maksettiin jopa pahempi kuin ne ovat nyt, Papa Reagan oli maanmittari ja hän oli lastentarha ja pieni maatila. Hän omisti Hampuri Mountain, joka oli takana hänen talo, ja vaikka se oli pieni verrattuna todelliseen vuoristoon, sillä ei ole hedelmäpuita, viljelysmaan ja laidunmaan. Hän oli myös savu talon, jossa maa kinkkuja oli kovettunut. Tämä on minun suosikki lihaa.

Hän oli lukenut Luther Burbank oletan, koska hän kokeili varttamisen hedelmäpuita. Jos muistan oikein kaikkien näiden vuosien jälkeen, hän oli yksi puu, joka oli omenat, päärynät, kirsikat ja persikat samassa puussa. En usko, että tätä jatketaan, mutta vuodeksi, jossa se oli vartetut, kaikki hedelmät olivat syötäviä.

Mama Reagan oli Jumalan pelossa nainen vanhan koulukunnan - jälkeläinen pitkä rivi metodistikirkon saarnaajien. Muistan, että yhtenä sunnuntaina, Papa Reagan hiipi pois lato kuunnella World Series radio (ei ollut TV sitten). Mama haukkui häntä kauheasti rikkomisesta sapatti. Papa vastasi: "Mutta kukaan ei voi nähdä minua". Johon äiti vastasi "Herra voisi nähdä sinua".

Usein, kun olin hyvin nuori, kaikki äitini sisarukset ja heidän lapsillaan olisi illallinen (tämä oli puolivälissä päivä ateria) on Reaganin talossa. Koska suuri määrä, me lapset söimme toisessa taulukossa. Täällä olen kehittänyt vastenmielisyyttäni kakku. Mama Reaganin kookos kakku oli kuiva kuin Saharan autiomaan ja painoi noin 8 kiloa per siivu. Äitini näytti perin hänen suuri taito ruoanlaittoon niin koskaan elämässäni olen koskaan sanonut rakas Ann, "Miksi et voi kokata kuin äitini?"

En tahtoisi Papa Reagan mutta voisin jatkaa loputtomiin. Niin - vain pari muutakin.

Kun hän ja hänen poikansa, nuorin tuolloin on noin 6 vuotta vanha, oli menossa ylös Hamburg Mountain korjata joitakin aitoja. Nuorin, mielestäni se oli "Saarnatkaa", oli jopa eteenpäin monille muille isä oli jotenkin takana. Yhtäkkiä oli verta juoksettamalla huutaa, ja Papa alkanut kulua vuorelle. Hän ajatteli että oli kauhea tragedia ja huusi "Mitä tapahtui?" Vanhin, joka oli kanssa "Saarnatkaa" (mielestäni se oli Grady) huusi takaisin "Hän putosi vasara varpaansa."

Papa vastasi huutamalla takaisin "Ota että vasara ja tappaa se poika!" Tämä nyt mieleeni Bill Cosby rutiini kun hänen vaimonsa sanoi palattuaan töistä "Mene ylös portaita ja tappaa se poika."

Mama Reagan kaatui ja mursi hänen lonkka kun olin pois Marine Corps. Hän tuli seniili, kuten me sanoimme, mutta nyt tiedän se oli Alzheimerin tauti. Valitettavasti hän kuoli ennen kuin palasin Kiinasta.

Papa Reagan jatkui useita vuosia, mutta kuoli auto taas ylittää valtatie. Autoa ajoivat häämatka pari ja tietenkin he olivat tuhonneet. Nykyään perhe olisi todennäköisesti nostaa ja vaati suuria summia. Niinä päivinä, ja toivon palata näihin moraalia, äitini perhe pyysi anteeksi pari, selitti, että iässä 85 hän ei näe tai kuule liian hyvin ja ne eivät ole olleet millään tavalla vastuussa.

Osa pidin eniten, ja toivon jäljittelemään, että hän oli tiettävästi matkalla nähdä hänen tyttöystävä. (Okei Annie, lopeta smirking, tiedän, että olet ajatellut George Gershwinin sävelmä "Se ei ole välttämättä niin", jossa sanat sanovat "Metusalem eli 900 vuotta, mutta mitä käyttöä Livin 'kun ei tyttö tulee periksi ei mies on 900 vuotta. ") Voin uneksia en voi?

Nyt, ajaa nopeasti läpi Äitini sukupolven Reagan klaani:

Vanhin oli Anna Lee (meillä lapset kutsuivat häntä "Key") - jos hän eläisi hän tappaisi sanoessani tämän, koska hän oli näyttelijä ja siis aivan turha. Hän ei koskaan tehnyt sitä Broadway mutta hän tutkimus Bostonissa ja oli aktiivisesti paikallisten ja alueellisten pelaa. Mielestäni hänen viimeinen oli nimiseksi "Unto Nämä Hills", joka oli kronikka Cherokee intiaanien. Hän pelasi tätä useita vuosia ja on myös esiintynyt menestyksekkäästi näytelmän "Tiukka britches", joka oli kirjoittanut Hubert Hayes, näytelmäkirjailija päässä Pohjois-Carolinan yliopistossa.

Tärkeimmät tytär oli Maria Madeline. Koska avain oli 20 vuotta vanhempi kuin äitini, äiti ja Mary Madeline (Manna) tosiasiallisesti kasvoi yhdessä. Tämä luultavasti kuulostaa vanhan sarjakuvan "Mountain Boys", jossa 6 "pitkä, haulikko Totin" trokareiden oli setä nimeltä Rufe. Setä Rufe oli vaipat ja oli noin 6 kuukautta vanha - mutta se miten se oli ennen vanhaan ennen perhesuunnittelu.

Keskeiset naimisissa Scroup Styles (Älä rakastat näitä nimiä?)

Alma (joka me kutsutaan Tante) oli sairaanhoitaja. Hän meni naimisiin asianajaja ja asui High Point, NC aviomies me kutsutaan "Setä Nobe", nimitettiin Xenobious Walker. Kun sain selville hänen oikeaa nimeään, Melvin ei kuulosta niin pahalta.

Äitini Maria oli se, jossa musikaalisuus. Hän oli solistina Metodistikirkkoon vuosia, ja monille tuntematon asia, hän lauloi hautajaisissa, mitä me nyt kutsumme "kodittomia". Kun löysin tämän, olin ylpeä.

Äitini setänsä olivat:

Grady - oli armeijan maailmansodan ja kenties ollut edelläkävijä yleispalveluvelvoitteen. Hän oli edessä radoilla Ranskassa ja kirjoitti joitakin kappaleita sodasta ja lähetettiin noin viihdyttää joukot, kun ne olivat levähdyspaikoilla. Hän kirjoitti laulun nimeltä "Bloody War", joka julkaistiin myöhemmin, tämä oli yksinkertainen laulu monia jakeita sovellettavien kertaa ja käytin sitä monta vuotta myöhemmin kirjoittaa parodioi ystävämme.

Myöhemmin hän toimi puheenjohtajana lääninhallituksen komissaarien. Tämä oli poliittinen työ ja ilmeisesti tärkeä. Tuohon aikaan ei ollut republikaanien Buncombe County tai ehkä ei Pohjois-Carolinassa, mutta ei ollut kovaa kilpailua. Kaksi ryhmittymiä kutsuttiin "Ring" ja "Anti Ring". Ring hallitsivat Deacon Greene. Hän ei koskaan katsonut valittu toimisto ja hän asui Langren hotellissa, mutta mitään ei tapahtunut ilman hyväksyntää Deacon. Grady oli lopulta ja en todellakaan tiedä, mitä hän teki sen jälkeen. Tiedän että täti Grace, hänen vaimonsa työskenteli Ivey-tavaratalosta. Ehkä Grady koskaan tehnyt mitään sen jälkeen.

Hänen poikansa oli Grady, Jr. ja Gordon. Grady Jr. oli erinomainen basso, samoin kuin hänen isänsä ja lauloi kirkossa kuoro. Kun viimeksi kuulin, hän työskenteli veteraanien Administration. Gordon oli koripalloa stipendin UNC ja nähdessäni hänet viimeisen kerran Chapel Hill. Olin palannut Kiinasta ja oli hyödyntäen GI Bill päätän koulutus ja hän on nuorempi, oli juuri tullut UNC. Kun viimeksi kuulin hänestä, hän oli ulkoasiainhallinnon palveluksessa Pakistanissa.

Rob - oletan hänen nimensä oli Robert, mutta en tiennyt mitään, mutta "Uncle Rob". Rob oli katsastaja tai, kuten sanotaan nyt, insinööri. Hän oli varsin menestyksekäs ja hän rakensi talon taakse Mama ja Papa Reagan. Hän ja täti (me lausutaan se Ant) Belle oli kaksi lasta - Bobby ja Gloria (GLO). Bobby halusi olla hammaslääkäri mutta jostain syystä ei koskaan tehnyt. Kun viimeksi kuulin hänestä, hän oli myyntimies varten Morton Salt. Glo naimisissa miehen, joka oli autoliikkeen Virginia Beach. Kun olin Dominikaaninen tasavalta, hän ja hänen miehensä (Minua hävettää, että [MT1] En muista hänen nimeään) tuli Casa de Campo ja golflomaa. Mukavia ihmisiä.

Ernest - Setä "Ern" oli kirja pitäjä. Hän ja täti Zola (ei meillä on joitakin suuria nimiä?) Oli 4 lasta. Yksi oli jälkeenjäänyt ja joutui "kotiin". Vanhin oli Elaine, ihana nainen. Hän avioitui Marine kapteeni, ja kun olin Camp Lejeune ja Marine Corps, he kutsuivat minut kotiinsa illalliselle. Sen jälkeen menimme elokuviin, mutta koska olin PFC. ja hän oli kapteeni, erosimme. Istuin alas portaita ja he istuivat parvekkeella menojen osuudesta. Tänään tämä olisi todennäköisesti nimeltään "syrjintää", mutta mielestäni se on oikein.

Ernest Jr. (Bud) ja Jim oli kaksi poikaa. Bud ja minä, ovat samanikäisiä, oli luultavasti lähempänä kuin yksikään minun mies serkut. Bud oli mestari vitsi pankkivirkailija, erityisesti likainen, mutta hauska, vitsejä. Hän päätyi merivoimien Kappalainen - ja melko hyvä. Valitettavasti hän kuoli varhain 40-luvulla. En koskaan nähnyt häntä sen jälkeen, kun lähdimme Chapel Hill.

Jim oli Marine, kuten I. Mutta koska siellä oli ikäeroa, en ollut hänen lähellään. Viimeinen yhteys olin oli Jacksonville, Fla Jim oli kärsinyt vakavasta niveltulehdus ja paljon aikaa rajoittuu VA sairaalassa Gainesville, Fla Hän aloitti kronikka Reaganin klaani. Yritän löytää, jos hän on edelleen se, vaikka minulla ei ole puhelinnumeroa.

Carol - Kutsuimme häntä "Uncle Saarnatkaa". Hän sai tämän nimen, koska lapsi oli tapana mennä metsään ja saarnata saarnoja. Tämä tietysti tuli vierailut liittyvät "circuit ratsastajia", jotka olivat osa Mama Reaganin perhe. Saarnaa naimisissa "täti Ann" - pieni nainen, joka työskenteli pankin pankkivirkailija paikallisessa pankissa. Hän oli joutunut pankin ryöstö, jossa on haulikot ja naamarit, paikallisessa pankissa. Tämä oli aika John Dillinger ja oliko se Dillinger tai muu pikku varas, emme tiedä - mutta se oli jännittävää ajatella, että se oli vanha John.

Heidän ainoa lapsensa oli Suzy. Suzy oli noin 2 vuotta nuorempi kuin minä joten meillä ei ollut lähellä, kun olimme nuoria. Kuitenkin tuntemattomasta syystä meille molemmille, ja vaikka emme ole koskaan nähneet toisiaan enemmän kuin kerran tai kaksi kertaa, kun me kasvoimme, meistä tuli "suosikki serkkuja". Suzy naimisissa suuri mies, joka oli johtoryhmän Malcolm McLean klo Sealand. Kun viimeksi kuulin he asuivat Connecticutissa ja vanhin poika oli vänrikkinä laivaston. Yritän löytää ne myös.

Scruggs - (Näitä nimiä paranevat koko ajan). Uncle Scruggs naimisissa "Täti Myrtle". Hän muutti Evansville, Indiana ennen syntymääni joten minä vain nähnyt häntä harvinaisia vierailut Weaverville. Heillä oli yksi poika, Jim. Muistan hänet vain, koska niissä yksi kaksi kuukauden oleskelu Weaverville kesällä, hän alkoi lihoa. Kukaan ei voi ymmärtää tätä, kunnes hän totesi: "Tämä on paras maito olen koskaan ollut elämässäni." Mama & Papa Reagan oli lehmiä ja pidetään syöttäjä puhdasta kermaa jääkaapissa. Jim oli juominen useita lasillista päivässä. Keskustele kolesteroli! Kun viimeksi kuulin Jim, hän oli Las Vegasissa.

Yhteenvetona, joku sanoi kerran äitini veljet "Kaksi vakavia, kiinteät kansalaisia. Yksi halunnut viski, yksi piti naisten ja muut pitivät molemmat. "Tarpeetonta sanoa, en ole maininnut niitä nimeltä.

Tarpeeksi tietoa äitini perhe. Let's siirtyä isän puolelta.

En koskaan tiennyt minun isänisä koska hän kuoli kun isäni oli 14. Tästä syystä isä ei koskaan päättynyt koulu - Mielestäni hän meni 7. luokalta. Hän alkoi ajaa buggy minun isosetä, tohtori Weaver ja tämä oli alkuperä Isäni lempinimen "Little Doc" joka myöhemmin kehittyi vain "Doc".

Minun isän isoäiti oli Essien Penland. En usko, että Essien oli oikea nimi, vaan että kaikki me koskaan tiennyt. Tämä oli ennen päivän sosiaaliturvan niin, kun neiti Essien voisi enää ajaa hänen asuntolassa, hän tuli luoksemme. Ainoat asiat Muistan noin "Granny Tilson" oli, kun hän istui minua sylissään, kun olin noin 7 vuotta vanha, ja lukea minulle Raamatun tarinoita. Lisäksi hän käytti ottamaan minut raitiovaunu paikkoihin, joissa he suorittivat vesimeloni kesäaikaan. Rakastan yhä vesimeloni. Mummo kuoli, kun hän asui meillä. Minulla ei ole aavistustakaan, missä hän nukkui, koska meillä oli 2 makuuhuoneen talon. Rakas sisko "Til" ja olin yksi makuuhuone, vanhempani olivat muut. Mistä Granny nukkua? - En ole koskaan ajatellut tätä ennen tätä hetkeä!

George ja Essien oli 5 lasta. Vanhin oli setäni George, niin mun isä Melvin, sitten Bertha, Edgar ja Harriet. Tämä puoli perhe oli suuria nimiä myös.

George meni naimisiin täti Marian - jenkki eikä vähempää. Heillä ei ollut lapsia, mutta oli Scottie koira. He tulivat taloon yöksi, suunniltaan, koska koira oli kuollut. He tunsivat syyllisyyttä, koska heillä ei olisi ollut hänen risat pois ajoissa. Meille muille, joiden koiria tuli Englannin tai kadulta ja söi taulukko tähteet, ei nähdä koira menee lääkärin toimintaa.

Kuulin äskettäin serkultani Fred Reeves että täti Marian oli elossa 97-vuotias, mutta ei ollut todellakaan "sitä". Spare minulle.

Edgar oli musta lammas. Hän meni naimisiin ja saivat yhden lapsen, Bertha Ann. Bertha Ann asui useita vuosia Harriet. Mitä tapahtui hänelle myöhemmin, minulla ei ole aavistustakaan.

Bertha oli suuri. Soitimme tätinsä Tillie (lempinimi hänen miehensä, Fred, oli antanut hänelle - peräisin Tilson). Heillä oli kiva talo tenniskenttä Weaverville ja 2 mökkiä on vuoristossa Reems Creek. Tämä ominaisuus vierestä Camp Sequoia oli, ja ehkä on edelleen yksinomainen leiri pojille ja tytöille. Fred työskenteli pankin Weaverville ja kun kaikki pankit alkoivat epäonnistua aikana masennus, hän oli, miten sanomme nykyään? - Vähentynyt?

Tämän jälkeen ne myydään (tai kadonnut) talon Weaverville ja muutti hyttejä. He asuivat yhdessä ja vuokra muut. He olivat hirsimökkejä, tehty vanhanaikaisesti, mutta oli erittäin mukava, paitsi että ruoka säilyi Spring House ja LVI oli mukava ulos rakennusta ympäröivät kukat jota kutsutaan "Johnny House Liljat".

Heidän kaksi lasta olivat Fred (Junie) ja Mary Elizabeth (Libba).

Olen hiljattain puhunut Fred ja hän oli juuri juhli 80-vuotispäiviä. Hän sanoi, ettei ole paljon ystäviä, koska hän ei pidä vanhoja ihmisiä. Fred pelasi tennistä tiimin NC State, kenties vuoksi, että hän tuomioistuin hänen kotiinsa. Hän oli kapteeni ilmavoimien toisessa maailmansodassa ja sodan jälkeen muutti Kaliforniaan ja tuli kiinteistö-liiketoimintaa. Mielestäni hän vielä dabbles tässä. Toivon hänelle, jos minun asunto hanke Tijuana kehittyy, koska hän asuu lähellä San Diego.

Libba naimisissa kauppalaivasto upseeri ja oli yksi tytär, jonka hän nimesi "Eve", koska hän oli ensimmäinen tyttö miehensä perheen useiden sukupolvien ajan. Olen menettänyt kosketuksen heihin täysin, ja koska Libba oli vanhempi kuin Fred, ehkä hän ei ole enää elossa.

Harriet meni naimisiin John Brady, insinööri. Ne valmistetaan kaksi poikaa, John ja George. John ja Harriet erosivat ja Harriet päätyi New Yorkissa työskentelevät hallitukselle. Hän kuoli muutama vuosi sitten. George asuu jossain New England mutta John kuoli melko nuorena. Hän oli päätoimittajana sanomalehti Franklin, NC - kaupunki melko samanlainen Weaverville.

Minulla oli erityinen kiintymyksen täti Tillie, sillä kun olin noin 10-vuotias I käyttää kiivetä puiden takana yksi hänen mökkejä ja kävellä valtava rypälelajikkeiden joka kasvoi näitä puita. Hän ei anna setä Fred leikata rypälelajikkeiden koska "Charlie tykkää kiivetä niitä".

Otin ihana Ann hyttiin kun olimme kihloissa - vähän ennen kuin menimme naimisiin. En tajunnut, että hän ei ollut ihastunut vuoret, kuten minä, ja vaadin, että keinu viinirypälelajikkeiden yli puron. Hän keskeytti hänen jalkansa prosessiin ja tämä oli hänen viimeinen venture viinirypälelajikkeiden. Hän oli kuitenkin mennä nukkumaan keinu kuistilla ja todella rento, joten se ei ole täydellinen menettäminen.

Nyt - kun kaikki nämä ihmiset, samoin tulee "pieni Melvin". Olen syntynyt 4. tammikuuta 1925 se iski eilen, kun katsot ennenaikaisen kuoleman prinsessa Diana ja myös sisar Maria Teresa, että sisar Teresa kuoli iässä 87 syntyi vasta 15 vuotta ennen minua. Minulla oli kiirettä lopettaa tämän kronikan!

Olen tullut uskoa - hyvin, ei ehkä usko, mutta kiinnostaa yleiset ominaisuudet Zodiac. Olen Kauris, ja on kaikki yleiset ominaisuudet johtuvat meitä "Vuohet". Olen naimisissa Leo ja hän on kaikki ominaisuudet "Lioness" - prinsessa viidakon.

Koska me Capricorns ovat melko plodding, sitkeä ja joskus naiivi yksilöiden ensimmäinen muistot ovat asentamista. Kerran pelasin alalla vieressä talomme Weaverville, jossa meillä oli siirretty pian sen jälkeen synnyin, ja Astuin post reikä . Pikku jalka meni huomautti mutta litistetty pois alaosassa niin, että se ei tule ulos. Toiset ehkä valoisampaa ja emotionaalisia kuin olisin huusi apua. Minä, tylsä Kauris, seisoi hiljaa kunnes olin jäänyt. Äitini, joka ei ollut niin emotionless tuli kirkuen kenttään ja kaivoi minut ulos hopealusikka.

Minun seuraava muistikuvansa oli, että olin lemmikki vuohi. Isäni rakensi vaunun muotoinen paloauto ja vuohi voisi vetää tätä. Serkut, jotka olivat vanhempia, ja ilmeisesti viisaampi kuin minä, sanoisin "Charlie, pysyt täällä ja odottaa mahdollisesti hätäpuheluita, jotka tulevat sisään Me ottaa vaunun ja tutkia tulipaloista tapahtuu. "Vaikka en uskonut heitä tuolloin tämä on pitänyt minua olemasta" suckered in "monta kertaa.

Minun ensi muisti kun muutimme takaisin Asheville ja vuokrasi talon Merrimon Avenue. I was only about 6 years old but I do remember that I had a small black board on an easel in my room but I had only one piece of white chalk with which to draw.  At Sunday school at Central Methodist Church, South, there was colored chalk. I stole it!!

Being very clever, I hid this in my room until about the next Wednesday. Then – while playing in the yard I tripped and fell down. I came up from the ground and said to my parents who were on the front porch “Look, I tripped and fell and landed on a box of colored chalk”.

They of course knew that the chalk had been missing from Sunday school for 3 days and were astute enough to wait for developments. After telling me how lucky I was to find this chalk and with discreet questions as to how it might have gotten there – I confessed. I returned the chalk the next Sunday and I have never stolen anything since. Perhaps if I had gotten away with this or if I had been incarcerated at age six, I would have been a confirmed criminal.

Incidentally, Central Methodist Episcopal Church- South meant that there were no blacks in the congregation.

My Dad, who was known as somewhat of a humorist, used to say that we moved every time the rent came due. This was not true but when I was about eight years old we moved to 6 Coleman Avenue. This was about a mile away but it meant that I would have a complete new set of friends because it was another neighborhood.

I have many memories of 6 Coleman Avenue. It was a small house, perhaps 700 ft2 on the principle floor but with a basement and a garage. We had two bedrooms. Mom and Dad had one and I shared the second with my sister. Where Granny Tilson slept when she came to live with us, I do not know.

Isäni on aina halunnut "Hoss", koska mielestäni hän oli hulluna kanssa Old West ja cowboyt elokuvissa. Virkistys Park oli yksi 1930 teemapuistot joka oli eläintarha, iloinen touhuta, kolahtaa autot, maailmanpyörä jne. Se oli myös poni ratsastaa. Isä totesi, että omistajat poni ratsastaa sallisi kellään poni pitää talvikaudella kun Park on suljettu, jos he ruokittu sitä ja näytti sen jälkeen.

Hän sai minut poni. Äitini ja sisar eivät ole liian iloinen, mutta isä, minä ja ystäväni olivat!

Vaikka meidän talo oli pieni, paljon meni noin 300 metriä. Olimme vuokrakiinteistöjen mutta isä vei autotallin ovet ja käyttää niitä puolin vakaa minun poni "Phyllis" - eli "Phil".

On hämmästyttävää, kuinka monta ystävää sinulla on, kun olet poni.

Phil käyttää päästä irti ja koska lähdin lukion ennen siskoni jätti lukion, hän joutui jopa Merrimon Avenue saa Phil ja tuoda hänet takaisin talliin. Phil aina tuntui astua Til n jalka ja ei tiedä hevosista ja vihata niitä myös Til ei tiennyt, että kaikki sinun tarvitsee vain poimia nilkka ja nosta jalka. Luulen, että hän oppi noin mautonta sanat tätä kokemusta.

Samaan aikaan, minulla oli koira, kissa, bantamkana kana ja Bantam kukko. Koira oli 6 pentua, kissa oli 8 pentua ja bantams haudottu jälkikasvu on 12. Äitini oli hyvin suvaitsevainen.

Tuolloin aloitin ensimmäinen kaupallinen hanke. Myin lehtiä ovelta ovelle - Saturday Evening Post ja Ladies Home lehdessä. En ollut kovin hyvä tässä joten en onnistunut. Ainoa pahempi kuin olin minun naapuri, Billy Charnuckle. Hänen lähestymistapansa on sanoa kenen vastasi oven "Et halua ostaa mitään lehtiä sinä?" Ne olisivat tietysti sanoa "ei" ja sulki oven.

Kun olin noin 11 muutimme Murdoch Avenue. Tämä on suosikki paikka, jossa olen asunut kasvaessaan. Se oli pieni talo - yksi kerros on kellarikerros, josta osa oli autotalli. Se oli 3 makuuhuonetta, joista kaksi oli aiemmin suuri aurinko kuisti joten siellä oli ikkunat ympäri. Pois olohuoneen oli suuri tallennuskapasiteetti vaatekomero uloskäynti pieni parveke. Olen valinnut tämän minun huoneen sijasta makuuhuoneessa. Se oli tilaa omassa sängyssä, paljon hyllyjä ja ei paljon muuta, mutta se oli yksityinen ja kodikas. Se oli vähän haittapuolia ole minun vaan muiden. Sisareni on 4 vuotta vanhempi, varsin usein ollut yritys ja päivämäärät. He olivat olohuoneessa ja saada minun "piilopirtti" vessaan, se oli tarpeen läpi olohuoneeseen. Menin aikaisin nukkumaan, koska olin harjoittaa lehtien aamulla reitille ja minun nousta noin 23:00 ja talsia läpi olohuoneen minun alusvaatteet oli aivan hirveää siskoni, varsinkin kun hän yrittää tehdä vaikutuksen mennessä "rakkaus hänen elämänsä."

Tärkein syy Pidin tätä talo oli naapuruston. 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.

The field on the other side of the pond from the woods was not always planted in corn. Sometimes they planted potatoes and we would dig up a few, roast them in the coals covered with mud and have a feast. I guess this was stealing also.

We had quite a large number of kids in the neighborhood, close enough in age to be compatible and were actually able to field a baseball team and a football team from the neighborhood.

At this time I took on a newspaper route. This is perhaps the greatest business experience for young people but it does not exist today. It has evolved, like everything else, into volume and is now handled by adults with automobiles who hire young people or immigrants to deliver over large areas. My route was 100 clients in a working class district. They went to work at 7:00 am and wanted their morning paper by 6:00 am. So – I got up at 4: am and finished by 6:00am, went back to sleep for 1 hour and got up to go to school. In the summer time when there was no school, my friends who also carried papers, came to the swimming pool at the country club (we were not members) and we swam at 6:00 am in the morning. Sometimes the guard would come out and threaten us for trespassing but he never pulled his gun and we left peaceably.

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”. Think about it.

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. I was hooked.

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

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.

We were finally assigned to a unit. 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:

November 15, 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

Gentlemen,

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.

I was eminently qualified for this since I was 20 years old and had spent the last three years learning to kill people.

But – I did learn the dilemma which you attorneys face when your duty is to defend your client even though you know, or at least suspect, that he is guilty.

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.

Terveisin,

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.

1947- 1963

LYNCHBURG AND OLD DOMINION BOX CO

I took a job with Old Dominion Box Company in Lynchburg for two reasons. One, it was Ann's home town and two, it was a company of 8 plants and 1,100 employees and I would be the first college graduate. To me this meant opportunity – and it was.  My starting salary was $125.00 per month. At that time the major companies such as GE, Sears etc. were starting grads at $250.00 but it worked out well for a long time.

For about 2 years I was known as “Ann Sholes' Husband.”  It was hard for one not born in Lynchburg to be recognized as an individual – but this was no problem for me. I was rather proud of it.

Old Dominion was owned by Mr. David Hugh Dillard. His brother had started it in 1905, failed and Dave Hugh took over. He had gone through the 6th grade but was one of the best educated men I have ever known. College is the fastest (and perhaps the most expensive) way to become educated but it certainly is not the only way.

One benefit of a college education, in addition to what you learn, is learning to learn quickly. This came in handy for me quickly. The accounting system at Old Dominion was antiquated and I had to learn it fast. Also, when I reported, the head of the payroll department was on vacation. She returned in two weeks and she and her two assistants went in to Mr. Dillard's office and demanded a raise. One thing lead to another and he fired all three. That afternoon, I became the payroll department.

My boss, Bill Pritchett, showed me what to do and helped when he had time and somehow I got the payroll for all 1,100 people out. This got the attention of Mr. Pritchett, Mr. Dillard and Mr. Gus Terry who became my mentor.

Being an antiquated system, the books at Old Dominion were not closed until the 10th of the month, waiting for all of the checks and invoices from the last month to come in. This meant that we worked like crazy for two weeks and “coasted” for two weeks. During the slack period most of the employees in the office gossiped and worked cross word puzzles. I bought a book and learned to make break even charts and calculations. Before showing these to the top management, I felt I had to know more about the operation so I began to take the spare time to go into the plant and learn the operation. I never liked figures just for figures sake – I wanted to know what they meant. This is why, after passing the CPA exam I never was certified. At that time, and probably today, it was necessary to work in a CPA office for two years before becoming certified, I was already in industry and much preferred it to compiling the results of a company only for tax purposes. Today the major CPA firms have extended into consulting, which makes sense to me.

I finally felt confident enough to present my project to Mr. Pritchett. He took it immediately to Gus Terry and Mr. Dillard. I began to get some recognition and raises, although small, came regularly.

We lived with Ann's parents in the house mentioned above. It was a stone house formerly owned by the Christian family who made a great deal of money from coal mines in Western Virginia and West Virginia. It had an entrance hall, two living rooms, a dining room, two kitchens, five bedrooms, a sun porch and an apartment in the back for the servants. This had a bedroom, living room and bath and was where Ann and I lived. It had a private entrance. There was also a tower which was off the main living room and the bedroom above it. This area had curved glass book shelves and window seats. There were working fireplaces in the entrance hall, both living rooms and the dining room although central heating had been installed later. The garage had been converted from carriage house and in the attic there was a two horse coach which the Christians had stored when they bought their first automobile.

Ann's mother, Irene, was a true southern lady but with firm opinions. She and I had a heated “discussion” shortly after our wedding and we had the proverbial mother in law/son in law relationship for about a year. However, we soon began to accept each other's qualities and faults and became very close. In the meantime, Bill Sholes had become not only my father in law but my best friend. We spent many good times with the two of them.

As a young couple we had many happy times at the house on Madison Street but perhaps the best were at Christmas time. Bill Sholes loved Christmas more than anyone I have ever known – probably because he was happiest when he was doing something for someone else. The foyer was huge with a 14 foot ceiling and it accommodated the largest Christmas tree, outside of commercial establishments, in Lynchburg. It was always difficult to find a tree big enough but we did. Besides Bill and Irene, Ann and I, Ann's sister Jean and her husband Herb and her children Tommy and Mac lived in the house. In the beginning they also had a girl, Edith, who rented a room and was almost part of the family. With nine residents giving presents to each other and with presents from friends of all, the tree began to look like a department store. Also, in my map making instruction I had learned to enlarge a map by drawing 1″ grids on the original and then drawing 6″ grids on plain paper and, one grid at a time, enlarging the original. I began to apply this technique to Christmas photos of Santa Claus, villages in the snow etc. To make Christmas displays for the porch. Besides being fun to do, it enhanced the Christmas spirit and all of our friends loved to come to the house during this season.

Perhaps it was not the beautiful big tree or the presents under it or the enlarged Christmas scenes we made. Maybe it was because Irene, a teetotaler, made the best egg nog in town. Even after we moved to our own house we used to move back to Madison St. for two weeks before Christmas and stay through New Years. I shall never forget these times and, I think, neither will my children.

On Christmas Eve the children were sent to bed early and the adults, after various egg nogs, began to assemble “Santa Claus”.  This entailed bringing things from the attic, putting together those infamous “some assembly necessary” toys and rushing out to the drug store for batteries (not included). The most memorable of these times was when Herb went to the attic to get a chair which was part of Mac's presents. Irene's mother, Mamie was in the bedroom beside the attic steps and had left, for reasons unknown, a lamp shade on the attic stairs. Coming down the steps with the chair in his arms, Herb did not see the lamp shade, stepped in and went bump, bump, bump, bump down remaining four steps on his rear end. Mamie, a God fearing lady who would not say s–t if she had a mouthful was exposed to the choicest expletives available at that time. She said “OH” and retired to her room. The rest of us were rolling on the floor in laughter – could it have been the egg nog?

In the meantime my career was progressing nicely at Old Dominion and I had joined the active Reserves of the Marine Corps. This came about at a high school football game. A Marine Corps major was seated two rows in front of us and we asked him if he knew where Jack Marston was. He gave us Jack's address and told me the local unit of Reserves needed officers. I signed up and attended drill each week and summer camp for two weeks each summer (good bye vacations).

The second summer at Camp Le Jeune Ann joined me for a few days and we stayed in the MOQ (Married Officers Quarters). Although these were comfortable but small rooms, the walls were thin and the bed was squeaky – we had to celebrate our “reunion” on the floor so as not to disturb (or amuse) the neighbors.

We decided to increase the population. On May 2, 1950 William Lee Tilson graced the world with his presence and his proud parents with great joy – which continues to this day. When lil 'Willie was a few months old, Earl Stearns, the Major in charge of the Reserve unit came up on our porch and said “Charlie, because of the Korean situation we are going to active duty. You have ten days to get ready.”

I informed my bosses and they said they would hold my job for me (it was the law at the time) and paid me an extra month's salary – which was badly needed to root up the family.

Earl had an unusual experience. He saw his own grave. When he was on Iwo Jima he and his machine gun platoon were cut off on the far side of the island. When they finally returned and joined up with his company after the island had been secured he saw a grave with his name on it. He had loaned a friend a utility jacket with his named stenciled on the back. The friend was hit by artillery and his head and dog tags blown off. Since they could not identify him, they saw the name on the jacket and assumed it was Earl.

Ann was trying to keep up my morale and while Billy was on the bed, with his head moving as only 6 month old babies can do, she kept winding up a music box toy which played “Lullaby & good night”. I don't cry easily and I did not then, but I almost did.

We met at the armory with sea bags packed and in uniform (mine still fit at that time) and marched down to the train station. We boarded the train and joined the Marine unit from Charlottesville, Va.  This spawned a lasting friendship with many of these families – unfortunately, we have lost touch.

Arriving at Camp LeJeune spawned a rash of requests for emergency leaves since we all expected to be shipped out to Korea at any time. The most common one was “My wife is pregnant and   I would like to have the week end to see if she is OK”  One person gave the most unusual and most unsuccessful request when he wrote “My wife is not pregnant and I would like to go home this week end and do something about it.”

The atmosphere was similar to World War Two and the camaraderie, between both men and wives, was something that I perhaps will never experience again.  After a few weeks Ann joined me and we went to the Officer's Club almost every night. The talk was “I got my orders. I am shipping out in two days. Have you heard anything?”

Because of my accounting education I was pulled out of the Lynchburg unit and sent to supply school. During this time I found that Jack Marston had been transferred to the 2nd Battalion, 22nd Marines. When I finished supply school he asked for me as supply officer.

When I reported for duty the Colonel in command of the battalion said “Lt. Tilson, you are going to be accountable for all of the equipment issued to this battalion. There is no time to take inventory. Sign for what is supposed to be here and I will back you in any shortage. Our mission is to get this battalion ready for combat NOW. I signed but this had future consequences.

We were fortunate in getting a house on the base and Ann and Billy (age 6 months) came to live on the base. The house was comfortable, the club was great, the beach was nice and it could have been a fun time except for the threat of leaving tomorrow hanging over us. I must admit, with some shame, that we fought this too hard and deprived our selves of some pleasure by not “playing it as it lies”.

The days were long and hard because we were trying to whip a new battalion into shape for combat. Jack Marston had married and had a child about Billy's age so we saw quite a bit of them. We also socialized with our battalion commander, Colonel John Wiggins. John was a good career officer and I have lost track of him. Every night at the club, when the band played “Mexican Hat Dance” he danced with Ann. His wife did not like to dance and my specialty was the “Weasel Trot Shuffle” which Ann, as a schooled dancer, did not appreciate.

Our practice landings came in for the Atlantic to the coast of Camp Lejeune. We had to cross the Inland Waterway and it was a bit disconcerting when we had to wait for pleasure boats to pass before continuing the assault. To be wet, half seasick from the landing boats, weighted down by pack, rifle, radio and canteen and have to wait while a boat piloted by an older gentleman with young beauties in bikinis on the deck did not help the morale.

The shoreline of Camp Lejeune was covered by undergrowth, much like the Laurel and Rhododendron I had known in the mountains – but without flowers. It was extremely thick and virtually impassable. On one of the landings I was commanding a Platoon. I was supposed to maintain contact with the Platoons on my right and left. Because of the foliage we had to move almost in single file. After about an hour I received a radio message from the command post saying “What is you position”.

If you know how to read a map you know that you must have a reference point. Since I could see nothing I replied, not knowing that the Battalion Commander was listening. When I finally made my way back to the command post with my platoon the Battalion Commander said “Lt. Tilson, 'Beats the hell out of me' is not a proper military answer.”

Our wives were great. It was said during World War II “They also serve who sit and wait.”  Recognizing this, someone in Headquarters came up with a brilliant idea to show the wives what their husbands would be facing. This was a demonstration of “Assault on a Pill Box.”

A pill box was constructed of reinforced concrete and bleachers were arranged. There were aircraft available and an assault squad with bazookas, Bangalore torpedoes, machine guns, rifles, mortars and machine guns.

The assault started with plane flying over at about 200 ft. and explosives had been placed in the ground to simulate bombs exploding. Next came the Bangalore torpedoes to break through the barbed wire, the machine gun fire and the bazookas – then the flame throwers and the shaped charges. It was most impressive and I don't think Ann has forgotten this.

We had bought our first car – a used Plymouth.  It was not bad but a problem developed with the carburetor. The mechanic who checked it said “You need a new one because the needle is sticking and flooding the engine. But, in the meantime, if you hit the side of the carburetor it will free up the needle and you can continue.

Ann drove to Camp Le Jejune to spend a week. She stopped at the guard house to show her identification. After it was cleared the car would not start. She got out, took an empty coke bottle which we kept for such a situation, hit the carburetor, got back in, started the car and drove off. The Guard stood, scratching his head and wondering what this lady who weighs 98 pounds knew about automobiles that he did not.

Later we got Officers Quarters at Camp LeJeune and Ann and little Willie came to stay. We should have enjoyed more because it was a nice livable house and the beach and the Officers Club were available but there was always the threat of “when do we leave” – so we were guilty of negative thinking . Try to avoid this if you can because it will save many anxious moments which need not occur.

I was in the field most days so Ann's Grandmother, Mamie, came to stay with us. Mamie had an interesting but unusual background. She called her husband “Mr. John” and he called her “Miss Mary”. In spite of this they had two children, Irene (Ann's mother) and Helen, who married Colonel Clarkson. Having a live in baby sitter made it easy to visit the Officers Club frequently and the first question when we met our friends was “ Have you received your orders yet?” Most of us were shipped out to Korea but my battalion was sent to Viequez Island to train new troops. Viequez is close to Puerto Rico and is the constant target of environmentalists who try to get the Navy and Marines to stop shelling half of the Island.

We were on Viequez for a month and it was my first swim in the Caribbean – (and a rather unusual one). After being in extreme heat on maneuvers for two weeks, bathing as best we could out of our helmets, the Sea Bees put in a water tank and showers. Since everyone was rushing in to shower, a group of friends and I decided to wait until the crowd thinned out. It seemed like a good idea and we finally got under the water, soaped up and —the water ran out.  We walked about a mile to the Caribbean Sea, stark naked except for the soap, and finished our bath in salt water.

About half way through the training session we got a week end in Puerto Rico-what ecstasy –a shower, clean bed, good food and cold beer. I was intrigued by the local culture (although it is now not much different from the USA) and language. Although I had heard Chinese, for some reason the Spanish sounded much more interesting. Little did I know at that time that I would end up speaking Spanish.

Maneuvers finally ended and the night before we were scheduled to leave Viequez, our battalion commander invited the Captain of the ship to which we were assigned, to visit. During the evening the Captain said “We are supposed to load the ship tomorrow and leave the following day but if you can get loaded tonight, I will take you to Charlotte Amalie in the Virgin Islands for a day.”

Our Colonel called all of the officers and said “Can you do it?” We gathered all the troops and asked if they were willing – the answer was an unqualified yes.

We brought up all of the Jeeps and trucks, turned on the headlights and began packing. We had the ship loaded by 6:00 am When the other battalions were waking up, we were steaming out of the harbor. Who worries about lack of sleep at a time like this?

We returned to Camp Lejeune and shortly after our return came the good news that the “police action” in Korea was over and we were going home. Everyone was anxiously awaiting their release. A  Sergeant in headquarters told me that my orders had come in a week ago but were being held up by the Regimental Commander. I went to headquarters and asked permission to see the Colonel. I asked what the problem was and it turned out that the Colonel who had given me orders to sign for the equipment in order to get the battalion ready for combat had been transferred and I was on the hook for many missing items. I finally got all this straight and joyfully returned to Lynchburg,
During the time I was away, a consulting firm had been hired to install a modern accounting system and I had the job of absorbing this new system quickly. Fortunately it was the same system I had studied at UNC so it was no problem. The consultants had installed a Variable Budget and this has served me well in all of my future jobs.

In 1954 we were blessed with the arrival of our daughter Kerry. She was born on April 25 – her grandfather Bill Sholes birthday and from then on she could do no wrong (at least in Bill's eyes).

My progress at Old Dominion continued and I ultimately was named Vice President-operations. Mr. Dave Dillard had retired and Eddie, his son, had a messy divorce and had to move out of state to preserve his estate so for four years I was literally running the company.

Our personal lives were extremely pleasant-good friends, good parties, a lot of tennis and swimming at Boonesboro Club and a nice house. Billy and Kerry took swimming and tennis lessons and became quite good at both. Ann and I started playing tennis again and found that the game had changed since we played as teenagers. The racquet weighted 12 pounds, the net was 4 feet high and the court was all up hill. After our muscles got back in shape things returned to normal. We played family doubles- Ann & Billy vs. Charlie and Kerry. We finally stopped these games when it became obvious that we were ruining the kids' games.

Many things changed at Old Dominion. Gus Terry, my mentor had died on a trip to Cuba, Bill Pritchett, who had hired me, was Secretary /Treasurer of the company but he had an alcohol problem which finally got the best of him and he was released. Mr. Dave Dillard came out of retirement and brought in a replacement who turned out to be a “politician” – something we had not had before. He set out to try to get people fired and replaced with others he brought in. he was successful in getting Mr. Dillard's ear through flattery and guile. We began to lose key people because of this and since I did not care to continue under these circumstances, I decided to leave.

FEDERAL PAPER BOARD.

1963 – 1964

Having decided to leave Old Dominion, I contacted Mr. Frank Brown at Federal Paper Board in Richmond.

He put me in contact with Ray Hall and Jack Kennedy- both Vice Presidents of Federal Paper Board. Jack's father, John Kennedy, was CEO and President of Federal. I met with them in Richmond, on my way to trip to the Kinston plant of Old Dominion. They offered me a job as Manager of a Folding Box Plant in Bogota, New Jersey and invited me to go there and look at it.

The plant was across the river from New York City but there were two big drawbacks. One was that the warehouse was on the other side of the highway from the plant. There was no stoplight so the fork lifts carrying stock and finished products had to wait for a break in the traffic. The other was that the Union at that plant was the Teamsters which at that time were notorious.

I respectfully declined. (Thinking that was my swan song with Federal Paper Board).

Fortunately, they were not offended by my refusal and asked me to look at another plant in Washington, Pennsylvania. It was a beauty and I accepted immediately. During the negotiations I got a message from Jack Kennedy asking me to call him at the plant. This was the days before direct dialing and when I called the operator and said “I would like a person to person call to Mr. Jack Kennedy in Washington- before I could say Pennsylvania she said “sure you would”. (JFK was president at that time).

This was an excellent plant with good equipment and good people and I was very happy

there. Since I was accepted by the staff and we were successful in increasing Sales and

Profit, headquarters was pleased also.

We had a visit from one of our main customers and after he toured the plant we took him to dinner at the local hotel. I paid the check and turned it in on my expense account. I got a letter from Ray Hall mildly chastising me saying “A 20% tip is a bit much. 15% should be enough”.

Our customer was known as somewhat of a “skirt chaser” and I answered Ray's letter as follows:
Being a country boy I rarely over tip.

However, when a blond waitress, 36-24-36, with both hands full of dishes enters a narrow dining room housing Sam Bibiana and several Federal Paper Board employees who shall remain nameless I felt it was above and beyond the call of duty. Sorry, I will be more prudent in the future.”

This was at the time when integration was moving rapidly and, being raised in the South, I had some reservations about sending my daughter to an integrated school. (Later , after having worked in the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, I became “color blind” and race difference today means little to me),

Coincidentally, I received an offer to manage Old Colony Box company in Radford ,Virginia. With regrets I resigned from Federal Paper Board after being there only a year. It was a fine company and I had a good future and Ann and I often speculate about what our life would have been like had we stayed on.

OLD COLONY

BOX COMPANY

1966 – 1969

Old Colony was a competitor of Old dominion Box Company and had been started by two brothers- Alan and Marty Nolan .

The Brothers split up and Marty started Paragon Box Company in Atlanta. Alan kept the plant in Radford.

Alan died quite young and his son, Bob took over at age 21. I was still at Old Dominion at the time and we made fun of him (although we did not know him) and used to say that he would not last six months.

Bob turned out to be a good business man and was successful. He and I made a good team – Bob is Jewish and I am Episcopalian. The Set Up Box business relied primarily on the textile industry as customers and many of the firms Jewish owners were located in New York but had sewing plants in rural areas of he South. Bob could go to New York and spend a full week making sales calls in the Empire State Building where I would have had a hard time getting appointments.  I would call on the plants managed by locals and since we all spoke “Southern” I was successful in selling this group.

In the mid sixties Marty had some health problems and Bob bought Paragon Box Company, closed it after a few months and transferred  most of the customers to the Radford plant. One of the customers made boxes for golf balls and had signed a young golfer named Jack Nicklaus as an endorser. We always checked the sports page to see winners of golf tournaments because there were always many orders the following week for golf balls with the name of the winner. As you know from that gentleman's record, this became quite good business.

We moved to Radford and rented a house with option to buy based on the sale of our house in Lynchburg. After one year our house had not sold and we were not too fond of Radford so we moved back to Lynchburg.

Although I was happy at Old Colony, I realized that working for a small company whose owner was 10 years younger than I, was really a dead end situation.

1968-1970

GUATEMALA

I contacted my good friend Ivan Wood who was now Vice President of Weyerhaeuser International. He set me up with a meeting with Midge Hendrickson, the regional Vice President and we met in Miami.

Midge said he had an opening in Guatemala and asked me to go there to see if I thought I would like it. I decided immediately that I was going to like it !!

I left for Washington, DC to catch a flight to Guatemala City. I was armed with the ticket sent by Weyerhaeuser, $100 in cash and my discharge as a Lieutenant in the Marine Corps as proof of citizenship. I was met at the airport by Helen Clarkson, Ann's aunt and we went to check in for my flight the next day – I wanted to be ready.

The agent said “Proof of citizenship, please.” I presented my discharge and he said “This will not do.  Foreigners can serve in the military. I need a birth certificate or a passport.”  I was frantic because I had neither and my future depended on getting to Guatemala. I asked to see a supervisor for advice and he found a paragraph in the regulations stating that if I had a notarized statement that I was a citizen, it would be acceptable.

I went back to Helen's house and typed up a statement stating where and when I was born, who my parents were etc.  We then set out to find a notary at 9 pm there was none to be found. Finally, a clerk at a hotel where I had gone in search of a Notary told me that the Police always had a Notary on duty. We went to several stations without success. Finally, at 3 am we found a station with a Notary. He did not want to sign the statement because it was not a police matter. I finally convinced him that all he was doing was to verify that I had presented this document and swore it was true. He did not have to be responsible for anything other than that I was there and swore this was the truth.

So, we returned to the house, slept for 2 hours and went to the airport. The agent would not accept this document but said that, since I had to change planes in Houston, I could try there. My flight from Washington to Houston was not a peaceful one because I did not know the outcome.  Upon checking in I found that my luck was holding – the plane had mechanical troubles and we would be 4 hours late in taking off. But – this gave me time to get a tourist visa. Again, the agent did not want to accept my notarized statement but I quoted the page and paragraph of the regulations (which the man in Washington had showed me) and, thinking that I was perhaps a lawyer to know this, he issued the visa.

My arrival in Guatemala was an experience I shall never forget. Although I was late, I was met by the sales manager of Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala, SA, the production manager and the administrative manager. I was immediately whisked through immigration and customs and thus learned that, in developing countries, most everything works from contacts.

I did not meet my predecessor, Dick Killian, on this trip because he was in the USA. He had been in Guatemala less than a year and loved his job but he had received notice from his wife that she was leaving with an Army Sergeant and if did not get home in 3 days, the children would be alone – so of course he went.

I later found that my welcome was to their new general manager, not just a visitor. Even before the Internet, news traveled fast. I had called my sister to tell her that I was going to Guatemala and she had told her neighbor. The neighbors brother was the superintendent of a Boise Cascade recycle paper mill in Esquintla, Guatemala. He had told the people of Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala that their new general manager was coming. Small world.

Midge Hendrickson joined me several days later and, at a cocktail party in his honor he said ” I'm told that you have accepted the job.” I said “Yes, I am going to like it”. So he decided we should proceed to Mexico City to meet the other owner, Henry Dabdoub. Henry had started the plant in Guatemala, basically to make banana boxes for United Fruit Company, and Weyerhaeuser had bought 50% with management rights.

Henry, who had probably never read a book in his life, had a huge library in his office at home in Polanco, one of the good neighborhoods in Mexico City. One of the books which he showed me was a Perry Mason mystery by Earl Stanley Gardner. There was an inscription which said “To my good friend Henry Dabdoub. Most of my books are based on characters I have known and you are the biggest character I have ever known” s/ Earl Stanley Gardner.

I returned to Guatemala a month later to start work. Bill was entering VPI as a freshman and Kerry was 13 years old. Ann and Kerry were to join me in a month after Ann had closed the house and packed the furniture.

As I recall this was July of 1968. (Why didn't I keep a diary?)

I arrived on a Sunday and checked into the Biltmore Hotel. In the back there was a nice swimming pool complete with two big, noisy parrots in a cage. There was a bicycle race down the Reforma (the main street) in the afternoon. I did not find out about it until late but when I went out and was 4 rows back from the curb, I could see perfectly. The Guatemalan Indians are very short and we all learned to love them.

By Wednesday I had found my way to the factory without being led and everything was exciting. But – Wednesday I got a call at the office about 10 am from Rafael Castillo. He said “Charlie, I am in a barber shop on the Reforma and the US Ambassador came running down the street and two men behind him shot and killed him. Get back to the Hotel as fast as you can and stay there.” So I did.

Until that time, the safest job in the world was that of a US diplomat. This was the first assignation of a US Ambassador.

All of the foreigners had returned to the Biltmore Hotel, which was the starting point for everyone coming into the country. We waited to see what was going to happen -would the government send in the Marines? Would there be some sort of retaliation?  We did not know. What happened was – nothing, at least nothing visible. Jack Young, the controller for Weyerhaeuser International happened to be there at the time to help me get established. Dick Killian, my predecessor was leaving for Tacoma that same day. Jack and I asked Dick to call our wives to tell them we were all right. The news apparently did not get first billing in the US so when Dick called Mrs. Young and said “Jack is OK”, her reply was  “And why shouldn't he be?” Where was CNN?

A state of siege was declared by the Guatemalan government and this lasted the full two years we were there. A state of siege is about one step less than Military Law and basically it expands the powers of the police and military. It also required that if anyone drove at night, the interior lights of the car had to be on so that the occupants were in full view. It prohibited 2 people from riding on a motorcycle. I did not understand this law until it was explained that many assassinations had occurred with the passenger on the back of a motorcycle – with a machine gun.

I began Spanish lessons and anxiously awaited the arrival of Ann and Kerry. Bill was sent off to VPI in our Dodge Dart. It turned out that, since this was the “Hippie” era , he virtually lived in this car although we were paying for a dormitory room. Even with this protest, he did not get into drugs – for which I am thankful.

Ann and Kerry arrived and I took them to the hotel to check in and then to the bar. Kerry had a “Jugo de tomate preparado” which is basically a Bloody Mary without the alcohol. As the drinks arrived a man came into the bar with his arm in a sling and with blood oozing out of the bandage. He had just been wounded in a street fight with the FAR, as the local guerilla group was known. This was quite a culture shock to two ladies from Lynchburg, Virginia.

I had rented a house. As usual, my taste was not very good and Ann found one much better. I should have known better than to select a house since I always had to ask what necktie to wear. And, of course it cost me two months rent on the first house.

My work was very exciting. As general manager, I had a freedom which I would never have in the USA in a similar position. The regional manager usually visited twice a year and board salesmen from the company came periodically and every year the auditors came. Other than that, Headquarters did not bother me. After about two months I had to fire two key people. One, who everyone thought would be the first Guatemaltecan to become general manager, was turning in altered expense accounts. He had good connections and when we needed a piece of equipment or a car, he could find the best deal. Although he did get good prices, I discovered that he was erasing the total on the invoice and adding a “commission” for himself. The other had been with the plant since it started up in Esquintla (before it moved to Guatemala City). He was in charge of sales service but also in charge of paying the workers in cash. It turned out that he would tell the workers “This is too much for what you did. I am deducting $5.00 from your pay “. – and he did.  I can forgive someone for making a mistake, for not being too smart or sometimes for being lazy – but never for dishonesty.

After this, I had a marvelous young staff.  I once wrote headquarters that “The staff here at Cajas Empaques de Guatemala has an average age of 28. I have been in the industry for 22 years but they make me unsure if I have had 22 years of experience or 1 year's experience 22 times.”

This group consisted of Manuel (Manolo) Samaoya, an engineer, Carlos Vazquez, an administrator and Carlos (Carlitos) Alejos, sales manager. Each had  interesting backgrounds.

Manolo's wife was a pharmacist and her father was a former head of the Central Bank – which is kind of like our Federal Reserve. Manolo was not only a good engineer but a good business man. Manolo and Geraldina (pronounced  Heraldina) built a summer home in the mountains outside of Guatemala City. Since the altitude of the city is 5,000 feet, when you say in the mountains, you are talking high. Several years after we left Guatemala, the house and the entire village was destroyed by an earth quake and everyone in the village perished. Fortunately, Manolo and family were not there at the time.

Carlos Vasquez had some sort of connection with the Secret Service in Guatemala. I never knew quite what and I did not ask because I did not want to know but it came in handy for me several times. He had arranged to have the lawyer for the secret service to also serve as the lawyer for CEGA (Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala), handling items of immigration etc.  One night Ann, Kerry and I were driving out to watch the volcano erupt (Picaya cranked off about every 20 minutes) and we were stopped by a corrupt policeman. (Perhaps “corrupt policeman” in Latin America is redundant). We could not speak Spanish and he took my drivers license with the idea of coming to my home the next day and shaking me down. The address on my license was the address of the lawyer of the secret police and when the cop showed up to demand money, he was arrested.

On another instance it was discovered (by Carlos , I susect) that a group was coming after me at work – not that I was so important but all foreign executives were fair game. They hustled me out the back before the welcoming committee arrived.

Carlos had another amusing experience. His first job after finishing school was with the

Colgate Palmolive plant in Guatemala. He was sent to New York for two weeks training. His co workers said “Have you called on the President yet?” He said “No.” They replied “You must do that as soon as possible.” He bought a new suit and the next morning he took the elevator to the 30 ^th floor where the Executive offices were. He told the receptionist that he had come to call on the president. He was asked if he had an appointment he replied “No. My name is Carlos Vasquez from Guatemala and I'm told that I should call on the president”. She told him she would pass along his message so he returned to the first floor.

When the receptionist passed the message to the president he said “Those dirty bastards. They are picking on a kid who has probably never been out of his own country.” At lunch time he went to the first floor and when he got off the elevator he said “Where is my good friend Carlos Vasquez?” Carlos identified himself and the president said “It's great to see you. I want you to have lunch with the Staff.” He took Carlos up to the Executive dining room and introduced him. Most of the staff had served in Cuba, Mexico or other Latin Countries so the President said “Gentlemen, this is a good time to practice our Spanish. Carlos will correct any mistakes we make.

Carlitos Alejos is the son of Carlos Alejos who was ambassador from Guatemala to the USA and the nephew of Roberto Alejos. Roberto was a prominent businessman and advisor to the president Ydigoras who was overthrown by a coup before his term was up. Many of the Bay of Pigs Cubans trained on Roberto's farm. The following is an excerpt from an article in wikipedia. Since wikipedia is an open site to which anyone can contribute, I cannot verify the accuracy but it agrees with what I was told in Guatemala, including conversations with Roberto Alejos.

“

IT HAD BEGUN one day early in April, 1960, when two visitors walked into the office of Roberto Alejos in the Edificio Townson in Guatemala City.

Alejos, a handsome, athletic businessman, was one of the wealthiest coffee-growers in Guatemala. His brother, Carlos, was Guatemala's Ambassador to Washington. But there were two other facts about Roberto Alejos that interested his visitors this day: He owned two huge fincas, plantations, in Guatemala, both in remote areas. And he was the closest friend, backer and adviser of Miguel Ydigoras Fuentes, the highly individualistic and unpredictable President of that Central American Republic.

The visitors were Americans. One was Robert Kendall Davis, a close friend of Alejos. Davis bore the title of First Secretary of the American Embassy in Guatemala City. A charming Californian of forty-three, graying at the temples, he looked the part of a diplomat. But it was an open secret in sophisticated political and diplomatic circles in Guatemala City that Davis was the CIA station chief in Guatemala. The CIA agent who accompanied him was less well known; he had recently returned to Guatemala after a three-year absence.

Davis and his companion had no small request. They wanted to know if Alejos would help arrange secret training sites in Guatemala for Cuban anti-Castro exiles. They also wanted to know whether Alejos could fix it for them to talk to President Ydigoras.

The CIA had good reason to approach Ydigoras gingerly. They were aware that he felt the United States regarded him as politically erratic. His election two years before had been greeted by Washington with less than enthusiasm, and Ydigoras knew it. Late in January, 1958, according to Ydigoras, a mysterious visiting American had called on him at his suite at the Maya Excelsior Hotel in Guatemala City. At this point, the Guatemalan Congress had not yet chosen him to be President.

As Ydigoras later related the story on nation-wide television, the visitor, who gave his name as “Mr. Karr,” opened a suitcase containing $500,000 in United States currency and offered it to Ydigoras if he would withdraw. The CIA knew that rightly or wrongly Ydigoras, who declined the money, became convinced that “Mr. Karr” was a CIA agent, although he possessed no evidence of that.

Now the CIA was asking Ydigoras to risk his political career by permitting the United States to establish secret training camps in Guatemala. Nevertheless, when Alejos approached him, Ydigoras agreed to meet discreetly with Davis at the President's private residence, the Casa Crema, located on the grounds of a military school. (Ydigoras, understandably, had declined to live in the Presidential House where President Carlos Castillo-Armas had been murdered on July 26, 1957. Castillo-Armas had come to power in 1954 in a CIA-engineered coup that overthrew President Jacobo Arbenz Guzman, whose regime was honeycombed with Communists.)

When Davis, Alejos and Ydigoras got together, the Guatemalan President, who had no use for Communism or Castro, agreed to allow the Cuban exiles to train in his country, He designated Roberto Alejos to handle the details of the project for him.

Now Guatemala was to become the staging area for the overthrow of Fidel Castro's regime in Cuba.

The CIA told Alejos that it would like to find privately owned land, with trustworthy owners, for use as training sites. Alejos suggested his own plantations. CIA, after looking over several other possible sites, selected as its main base Helvetia, the Alejos coffee ranch in the Boca Costa, the Pacific slope region of southwestern Guatemala.

Helvetia was particularly suitable for the CIA's purpose. It had no access roads, and was a self- contained city with 100 kilometers of private roads winding through 5,000 acres. The estate rose to 8,000 feet along the slopes of Santiago Volcano, which had erupted in 1928 and was still active. The training area, or “Trax Base,” as the camp came to be known, was at 4,000 feet. It was well above and out of view of the main ranch building. The nearest habitation was the remote village of San Felipe. Retalhuleu, the other town in the area, was twenty-five kilometers from Helvetia. Guns could be fired and military maneuvers held at the ranch with complete security and safety.

The entire plantation was heavily guarded, so there was little chance that any curious outsider would stumble into the Cuban exile camp, or penetrate its secrets. If the volcano behaved, the CIA would have an ideal mountain hideaway to begin training the exiles who would topple Fidel Castro. It would be Guatemala, 1954 all over again.

The Americans who called on Roberto Alejos in the Edificio Townson that day in April, 1960, were acting on the authority of the President of the United States. Their visit was a direct result of an order given by President Dwight D. Eisenhower on March 17, 1960.* ¹ On that day Eisenhower authorized the secret training and arming of the Cuban rebels.

The President turned over the task of arming and training the Cuban exiles to Allen Dulles. Dulles in turn placed the project in the hands of Bissell.

A highly articulate, highly intelligent man, Richard-Mervin Bissell did not fit the popular conception of a master spy, any more than did Dulles. Bissell liked to refer to himself as a “high risk man,” and it was he who ran the U-2 spy plane program.

Bissell was graduated from Groton, Yale and the London School of Economics. He took his Ph.D. at Yale in 1939, taught economics there and at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and worked in the War Shipping Administration during World War II. In 1948 he joined the Marshall Plan, rising to the post of Acting Administrator. He entered the CIA in 1954.

The CIA's original plan, as it evolved under Bissell's direction, was to build up the underground within Cuba through a long, slow period of guerrilla infiltration by exiles trained in Guatemala.

The CIA designated one of its most energetic agents, with the cover name of Frank Bender, to be the top agency representative in dealing with the fragmented Cuban exile groups. Bender, whose real identity was carefully protected, became an almost mythical figure to the Cuban refugees. He was rumored to be everywhere — in New York, Miami and Guatemala — during the months that followed. After the Bay of Pigs, he was said to have been spotted in the Congo.

Most of the exiles believed Bender was a European who had fought with the French Maquis during World War II. Another account had Bender as an assistant to top Allied planners during the North African invasion in 1942.

Those who met him described the CIA field chief as a man in his fifties, perhaps 185 pounds, of medium build. He smoked a pipe, wore glasses, was well mannered and displayed a good knowledge of history. Bender established headquarters in New York, which with Washington, Miami and Retalhuleu became the four key centers of the operation.

The CIA's first task was to try to weld the squabbling and emotional exile groups into some semblance of cohesion, and to select promising leaders. The Cuban who looked most promising was Manuel Artime Buesa, a young firebrand orator who had fought in the hills with Castro in 1958. Artime accepted a job with the Institute of Agrarian Reform when Castro overthrew Dictator Fulgencio Batista on New Years day, 1959, and became Premier. But Artime broke with Castro later that year and fled Cuba in a boat. Now, at twenty-eight and violently anti-Castro, he was the secretary general in Miami of the Movimiento de Recuperacion Revolucionario, the MRR.

Another Cuban leader contacted by the CIA early in the planning stage was Manuel Antonio de Varona, former Premier of Cuba under President Carlos Prio Socarras, the man Batista had overthrown.

By the end of May, 1960, five exile groups had been organized as a revolutionary frente, or front, with Varona as coordinator.

At a meeting in New York, the CIA promised financial support to the newly formed frente. Bender dispatched agents into Miami. The CIA began pumping what eventually became millions of dollars into the frente and its successor, the Cuban Revolutionary Council. The CIA funds were deposited in a Miami bank and drawn by the frente through checks signed by an accountant named Juan Paula.

The first exiles were being recruited for the training camps. In the back streets of downtown Miami, in the bars, hotels, old rooming houses and apartments of the Cuban refugee community, the exciting word began to spread that something big was afoot.

Sometimes their leaders flew to New York for conferences with the CIA. When there was a crisis, Bender would fly to Miami.

The news would pass among the exile community: “Mr. B. is coming.”
0

While we were in Guatemala, Roberto was kidnapped. One Sunday we were having lunch at the house of Don Carlos Alejos, Carlito's father. A man came to the door and Don Carlos excused himself to talk to the visitor. We later found out that the man was from the kidnappers and was there to negotiate Roberto's release. He finally was released after having been held in a small room under a swimming pool for six months.

The first year was very difficult for Ann and Kerry but after that, they came to love the country and the people. It is a pity that it remains violent.

We joined the Guatemalan Country Club and it was small and delightful. Most Gringos belonged to the Mayan Club but we preferred one which was mostly natives. The other one could have been anywhere .We played golf and tennis, swam and partook of perhaps the worst food in Guatemala – but it was fun. The Charge d' Affairs, who had taken over the US Embassy temporarily after the death of the Ambassador, also played there. Besides his caddie, there were 3 men in suit coats. Kerry said “Dad, why do those men have on coats on the golf course?” The answer was that under each coat was an Uzi.

In the meantime, Kerry at age 14 blossomed into a strikingly beautiful young girl with long blond hair. I was almost on the verge of keeping a big stick at the front door to ward off the local teenagers as well as the Italian restaurant owners. We became quite close friends with these two Italians and they too had some interesting history. Their mother had been a Madam in Columbia and their Maitre d' was a Turk who had left the country to escape military service. One of the high points of Kerry's experience was one night at their restaurant on Kerry's birthday , all of the waiters and cooks came to the table with a cake and sang Happy Birthday (Comple An~os felice).

(My computer will not print the ~ over the n but this is very important. Without this you have “ano” which means anus. One of our friends , while in Argentina had a co worker who had gone to New York for a hemroidectomy. Knowing that the telex in New York did not have the ~, he sent a telex saying “Felize An~o Nuevo which translates “Happy New Year”. Without the ~ , draw your own conclusions as to the translation.”

Ann had made friends with some people in the Embassy and I played poker with a group of diplomats so we were invited to a party to welcome the new Ambassador. This was given at the house of the Agricultural Attaché who lived about two blocks from our house. As we approached the house Kerry looked up and was startled to see men with machine guns in each tree.

The Agricultural Attaché was a bachelor. He invited us to see his house and the bedroom had mirrors in the ceiling. Ann, in all innocence asked me “Does he have a girl friend?” Lynchburg was a tame place.

We had a bad year after United Fruit started their own plant but in the second year we were making 30% on the investment. I am sure no Weyerhaeuser domestic plant was doing this. But we were small as corrugated plants go so we did not get much notice except from the International Division.

We did not have our own delivery trucks but used a contract carrier. This was owned by a Cuban who I shall identify only as Paco. Paco was a former pilot for Cubana Air Lines. When Castro took over and confiscated everything for the government, Cubana airlines had a Boeing 707 which had not been paid for.  The CIA contacted Paco and he “stole” the 707 and flew it to Miami from Havana by himself. This was a time when airplanes were being hijacked to Cuba so Paco would not fly on a commercial flight. The reason was obvious – if he happened to be on a flight which was hijacked to Cuba, he would have been executed immediately.

I went on a sales trip to El Salvador with Carlitos Alejos. General Ydigoras was living there in exile after having been overthrown as President of Guatemala. General Ydigoras told me an interesting story. I cannot vouch for the accuracy but I think it was true. He said “There was a conference in Costa Rica attended by all of the Central American Presidents and also by President Eisenhower. After the meeting I met privately with President Eisenhower and said 'Mr. President, your term of office is almost up. As you know we are training some of the Cubans for the Bay of Pigs invasion in Guatemala. What is the status going to be when your term is up?'. Mr. Eisenhower replied ' Dick Nixon is going to be the next President of the USA and his views on this are the same as mine'. "

As we all know, John Kennedy was the next President and although he allowed the invasion to start, the promised air support from unmarked planes flown by the CIA pilots was not sufficient and no plane from the US forces were allowed to help and the whole operation was a fiasco. General Ydigoras also told me that Adlai Stevenson, as the US ambassador to the UN had a hand in cancelling the air support – but again, I cannot verify this.

An opening came up in the plant in Alicante, Spain and I was asked if I would like to go there. They sent me, Ann and Kerry to look at it. We went first class to New York and stayed one night in the Plaza Hotel. Then we went first class on the first TWA 747 to London and spent two nights at the Grovesnor House. Then to Paris for one night and on to Alicante. Caviar had replaced Corn Bread

Shortly before I left Guatemala a group from Weyerhaeuser Headquarters came to Guatemala to announce that the new prices for Kraft liner and semi chem medium would be based on the KEA prices. This was an increase of about 30% and changed all of the box prices since these items are the basic raw materials for a corrugated box.

I wrote the following letter:

Mr. Walter Paulson

Vice President

Weyerhaeuser Corp.

Dear Walt,

I enjoyed the visit from the KEA group and, since I have no alternative, I accept the new prices. I thought KEA stood for Kraft Export Association but in checking the dictionary, I find that the definition of a KEA is “a large parrot with a hooked beak which preys on lambs and feasts on their kidneys” (copy attached).

We little lambs are pretty helpless and when something comes in and rips out our kidneys, it has destroyed our last defense.

Terveisin,

MB Tilson

I got a call from Walt asking if he could send this to the other members of the Kraft Export Association. I agreed but I said “What I was trying to say was P–s on you. He laughed and said “We got the message”.

I accepted the transfer with pleasure but with sadness at leaving Guatemala. The saddest part was the fact that I had to make a decision on my successor. Carlos Vasquez had been my right arm and was always considered the likely successor when a Guatemaltecan took over. However, Carlos did not know the manufacturing end of the business nor the sales area. In spite of my personal feelings, for the good of the operation I had to recommend Manolo. Carlos Vasquez had tears in his eyes – so did I. Manolo's performance justified my faith in him.

1970-1971

SPAIN

We signed a lease for an apartment on the first floor of the Torre Alicant, a 30 storied apartment and condo building an egg's throw from the Mediterranean. Bill and Debi had just been married and, being summer vacation at school, we brought them over to Alicante to spend their honeymoon. The second floor apartment turned out to be a disaster. There was constant noise from the beach and it was hot, hot, hot. The owner of the building had a pent house apartment on the 30th floor and through one of the few English speaking people in Alicante, we learned that it was available for rent. I went to the Englishman from whom we rented the 1st floor apartment and explained my dilemma. He could have given me a rough time since I had signed a one year lease. Instead, he said “Contracts are made to be broken” and we moved up to the sky. I sincerely believe that if we had remained on the 1st floor, Bill and Debi would have been divorced before the end of the summer – as it were, the 30th floor was magnificent with a fantastic view and a constant breeze.

From a personal standpoint, the stay in Spain was excellent but I was not happy with the business climate. Perhaps I was spoiled by the staff in Guatemala but my staff in Spain did not function the same. There was conflict between the Production Manager and the Sales Managers and the Controller. There was conflict between the Sales department and the Scheduling department. There just was not the atmosphere which I require to run an efficient plant. It soon became clear that I was going to have to decide which of the department heads I could work with (and who could work together) and which group had to go. Part of the problem was that one department was headed by an Englishman, one by Spaniards and one by a Mexican. I, being an American further confused the issue.  Another difficulty was that I was not very fluent in Spanish at that time so I had difficulty in communicating my ideas to the Spanish speaking staff. I had a completely bilingual secretary but memos do not replace face to face discussions.

My first four weeks after being transferred were not too pleasant. Bill King, my predecessor, had suffered a terrible tragedy.  He had two children, about 6 and 8 years of age and his wife died in childbirth with the third. As a result, he asked to be transferred back to the USA to raise his children. A spot was found for him and I was moved to Alicante. However, in the interim, Bill (who is a fine person and who became a good friend) had a change of mind and decided he wanted to stay. As a result, he remained and I was excluded from staff meetings and really, although I was technically the Manager, I did not know what was going on. This was finally straightened out by the Regional Manager and I began to settle down to work. The competitive situation in Spain was tough and box prices were low. I realized this one weekend when I was floating around in a 6 foot rubber boat I had bought and I saw our major customer go by in his 60 foot yacht.

I seem to have been destined to be in countries which had formerly been ruled by a dictator and where the influence of such a domineering individual remained. In the case of Spain, the dictator was still in power because Franco was still very much in charge.  Spain at this time was one of the safest places in the world if you did not break the law or dabble in politics. The Guardia Civil worked in a city for a few months and were then transferred to another location. There were always two of them together. This system was because a short assignment did not leave time for them to become too familiar with the local population. Working with another person prevented any one person from starting any sort of “racket”.

I mentioned before that we were an “egg's throw from the Mediterranean”. The reason I did not use the usual “stone's throw” is the result of a party in which the Spanish wine flowed easily (as it so often did). My dear Ann made the statement that she could throw one of the hard boiled eggs, which were on the table, into the sea. I told her it was impossible and if it fell short it would kill someone on the beach. She proceeded to wind up and heave the egg into the surf.

On another occasion, when I was returning from a trip to Madrid with one of my staff, objects began to fall on the pavement around us as we approached the building. Looking up, we saw Ann, Bill, Debi and Kerry heaving grapes down on us. My friend said “I think the lot of them are drunk.”-Vino de la casa was cheap and good.

During the summer there was a different work schedule in Spain at that time. I doubt it still exists but we started work at 7:30 am, worked straight through until 3:00 pm and the day was over. Our habit was to wait until I got home to have lunch. This usually consisted of tortilla Espan~ol, tuna and onion salad or fish.  We ate this on the balcony and quite often, in addition to Ann, Kerry, Bill, Debi and I we were joined by our friend Trevor Snart who had the apartment directly under us. Trevor, along with Doris and Alex Purper were the only English speaking friends we had. As a matter of fact, they, along with two or three other people were the only English speaking people in Alicante. Trevor had a nice boat and we water skied behind it in the beautiful Mediterranean

One our favorite entertainments was to go to the castle for the Flamenco dancing. It was authentic and exciting. The castle is on a cliff and would be inaccessible if it were not for the road which has been bulldozed out of the rock. I was told that Napoleon passed it by in his conquest of Europe because the only way to take it would have been a siege. There was a well for fresh water and I understand that the townspeople would bring the sheep, goats and cattle into the compound and there were vegetable gardens as well.  Not too comfortable but secure.

Bill and Debi returned to Blacksburg after having spent a rather nice honeymoon. I think, and hope, they still remember it fondly.

We also enjoyed the Gallo Rojo which was an outdoor night club featuring artists such as Julio Iglesius. On Sundays, after Kerry left for school, Ann and I had a routine – we would have lunch at the Pizzeria Romano and then go to the small village of Santo Polo to watch the fishing boats come in and unload. They had squid, tuna, and every kind of fish imaginable – interesting.

Pizzeria Romano was owned and run by a Frenchman who was in exile. He had been one of 8 people in Algeria involved in the plot to assassinate Charles DeGualle. The day DeGaulle died he closed the restaurant and had an all night party. We always have said that the people we met in International operations were interesting – we did not always like them or agree with them but they were interesting and not dull.

There were no English speaking schools in Alicante so after Bill and Debi returned to VPI, we enrolled Kerry in TASIS – the American School In Switzerland, in Lugano, Switzerland. We drove her to school the first time on a 4 day trip. We went through Barcelona, Marseille, Nice, Cannes, Genoa and Lake Como.

Kerry was a little car sick on the road and once we stopped at a gas station in Italy. She was lounging on the back seat with the long blonde hair spread out on the seat. The gas station attendant, an Italian about 20 years old looked in and said “Mamma Mia”.

We stayed at the Splendide Royal in Lugano and slept on feather beds with poofs on top of us. Out of the window we could see the Funicular going up the mountain with skiers. Depending on which slope you took, you could end up in Switzerland or Italy.

Kerry, never having been away from home except for summer camp or tennis tournaments, was crying when we left. This was difficult but the head master said this was normal and he assigned some girls who had been there last year to take her under their wing.

We left and decided to go back through the Alps – a fabulous but scary trip. We stopped at the top of a mountain to have something to eat and avail ourselves of the sanitary facilities. Ann came out with her panty hose wet. The bathroom consisted of two large concrete “feet” and a hole in the ground. Having slightly different equipment, I had no trouble.

On the way back we stopped at a beautiful small hotel in Montpelier where we had spent the night on the way over. It was called Les Violets- one of many such places in France.

TASIS, bedsides being a good school, was a place where wealthy people sent their children when they did not have time to raise them. Among the students were the children of Ramfis Trujillo, the son of Victor Sued (one of Trujillo's confidents), the children of “Hoss Cartwright” and the children of Dina Merrill and the children of Robert Wagner. Kerry also had a friend named Siegred who lived in Hawaii and who later turned up in Mexico unannounced and with her whereabouts unknown to her parents.

TASIS adjourned to San Moritz for the month of January. Kerry came home for Christmas and cried when she had to leave for San Moritz. When it came time to leave San Moritz for Lugano, she called and cried again. I think she now realizes the fantastic experiences she had.

We brought Bill and Debi over for the Christmas holidays and had a great time. The highlight was New Year's Eve at Pizzeria Romano. This was a fixed price dinner, paid in advance. I soon found out why. The meal started out to be pretty dull and, with many courses, the service was a bit slow. All of the family except me wanted to skip dessert and go home. I insisted that we stay.

Soon after dessert the champagne began to flow and there were bottles on each table. Soon the music started and someone began a Conga Line. In order to reach the bath room, one had to get in the Conga Line and drop off at the bathroom door. To return to your table, it was the reverse. By the end of the evening Kerry was dancing with the cook and Debi was trying to elude an old gentleman who delighted in putting confetti down the front of her dress. As near as I remember, a good time was had by all. A swim in the ocean is about the best hangover cure which exists. I had a friend in the Marine Corps who called it the “Big Bromo Seltzer”. We needed it.

We became good friends with Florence Marzec, my bi-lingual secretary. She took us to some cliffs outside of Benidorm and introduced us to “Churros y Chocolate” – delicious. She also took us to a small village on top of the mountain – a place we returned many times with guests (you have a lot of friends from home when you live on the Mediterranean).

This little village used to be a walled village but had turned into a tourist attraction. There were ladies making lace and there were donkeys to ride up the trail which led to the entrance through the wall. The donkeys had diapers on to keep the trail clean – I had never seen this before.

We also played quite a bit of tennis that summer. Trevor had been on the Junior Davis Cup team in his home town and had really struggled to make the big time but, like most of us, he did not have the talent. When Bill was there during the summer we played doubles and Bill told Trevor he had quit playing tennis when he started in Architectural school. Bill had been schooled and during his last years in high school he grew enough and had enough coaching and experience to be an excellent player – as did Kerry. After our first session Trevor said to Bill “Tell me, why did you quit?”.

The Weyerhaeuser policy for international was to pay the tuition for the children in local schools. After seeing the tuition at TASIS they agreed to pay only part and our part was substantial – but worth it.

So far I have spoken mainly of the social parts of our stay in Spain. Part of this is because of my difficulty in adapting to the staff but the largest part was that I could sense that the attitude was changing in Weyerhaeuser and I felt that the International Division was being shunted aside. This turned out to be true and Weyerhaeuser has now disposed of all of the overseas converting operations and are concentrating on exporting wood, chips, pulp, paper and boxes rather than producing them overseas.

I wrote Henry Dabdoub in Mexico – just a social letter – and he replied, asking me to come to Mexico to manage his operations there. I accepted and submitted my resignation to Weyerhaeuser with great regret because it was a fine company. They asked me to stay for three months so they could find a replacement and of course I agreed.

Jack Wacheter who was the new VP  in charge of all box plants, including International, came to Brussels and asked me to meet him there. I did and he told me that he was re-organizing the European division and he was debating between me and Jim Jordan to be in charge. He asked if this would change my mind about leaving. I told him “No” because I felt that since I had resigned, a change of mind would always make me suspect.

1971-1975

MEXICO

During these three months, Henry Dabdoub sold half of his operation to Owens Illinois with a management contract so when I got to Mexico, I had no job.  I was a surprise to OI and they had appointed their own manager. Henry assigned me to build the paper mill in Tierra Colorada – about 50 miles from Acapulco – in the state of Guererro. This was, and still is, a dangerous place for foreign executives. I traveled the mountains of Guererro in a jeep, making contracts with people to supply wood for the mill. People asked me if I were afraid of being kidnapped. I replied “No, because I don't have any money and they know Henry Dabdoub would not pay 15 cents to get me released.”

Henry lived to a ripe old age and it was said that when he found “You can't take it with you” he decided that he was not going.

Henry Dabdoub was one of a kind. He was born in New Jersey of Lebanese parents. English speaking people thought his first language was Spanish. Spanish people thought his first language was English. He was brilliant but could barely write. He used to rise at 6:00 a. m, walk in his garden and make notes. He turned these almost illegible notes over to me and I would then write a letter to whomever, paraphrasing his ideas.

He moved to New Orleans and sold tires. While there in a cafe, he bought a Blue Plate Special for a Mexican who had no money. This probably cost 35 cents at that time. The Mexican had been the personal secretary to Pancho Villa and later became part of the government organization. He invited Henry to come to Mexico to set up the telephone system for the government. Henry accepted, bought two old telephones, painted them in his hotel room and presented a plan to the government for setting up their communications. They accepted. He then called Stromberg Carlson which was at that time a dominate figure in telephones as well as radio. He got a one page contract with them which lasted for 35 years. This is how he made his first millions.

At that time all paper for boxes and all corrugated boxes were imported. Henry, being very perceptive, realized that the government was going to prohibit imports to try to stimulate local business so he started Envases, Cartones y Papeles (a box plant) and Kraft, SA (a recycle paper mill). This was the beginning of his empire in the box business. This later expanded to Cajas Empaques de Texcoco, Papeles Texcoco, Cajas Empaques de Guadalajara and Cajas Empaques de Guatemala.

He sold half of the Guatemalan operation to Weyerhaeuser and half of the Mexican operation to OI, although Weyerhaeuser and Inland container were both bidding on the Mexican operation.

After a year, the manager OI had sent to Mexico could not adapt to the Latin way of doing business (he was of German extraction) nor could he get along with Henry. OI sent one of their vice presidents, an administrative manager, a paper mill manager and a controller to take over. They asked me to move from the Dabdoub side to the OI side and manage the two box plants.

We started out living in an apartment on Fernando Alencaster on the edge of Chapultepec Park. Then we moved to a house on Cerrado de Quiroga at the beginning of the highway to Toluca. Although Cerrada de Quiroga was only 10 miles from my office it took me an hour to drive through the city. So, after fighting the traffic and the smog for three years, we moved to Cuernavaca. This was 40 miles away from my office but I could get to the office quicker than I could from crossing the city.

Cuernavaca, like Guatemala City, advertised the climate as “Eternal Spring” – and this is accurate. Being not too far from the equator but at 5,000 feet in altitude, almost everything will grow, there is never excessive heat or cold and the air is clear.

The house we rented was on a cul de sac with only one other house. It had a swimming pool and a lovely garden.  We could swim in the day time and have a fire in the fireplace at night. We also had Eladia, perhaps the most marvelous maid in the world. Kerry and Debi still covet her and, if she were available, I am sure they would kick husbands and kids out of the house if necessary to have a place for “Lala”
One day I had gone to the plant in Texcoco and received a message to return to headquarters immediately. When I arrived I found that all of the American were there. We were informed that headquarters had decided that Owens Illinois could not get along with Henry's unorthodox ways of doing business and we were all instructed to turn in our resignations. Everyone in the group except I had worked for OI in the States and had reasonably good assurance of getting located somewhere in the company. I could see problems because of my level and no contacts in the company in the USA it was going to be hard to find a spot for me. I asked if it would hurt my chances with OI if I made some inquires on my own. I was encouraged to do this.

I called Ivan Wood and told him of the situation. He said he would see what he could do. In about an hour he called and said “Bud Schaefer of Inland Container wants you. Give him a call”.

I had met Bud only once before. He came to Mexico and tried to get an appointment with Henry Dabdoub to discuss buying his business. Henry sent me to meet him and tell him that Owens-Illinois had just purchased 50%.

1976

DOMINICAN REPUBLIC #1

Inland Container was dealing with Ricardo Hernandez to purchase his Corrugated Box Plant in Santo Domingo, The Dominican Republic. They hired me to be the “advance Man” in preparation for the purchase.

My first assignment, before I had been to the Dominican Republic, was to represent Ricardo Hernandez in a group coming to Mexico from the Dominican Republic. Ricardin (as he was known) had a Spanish passport and at that time it was a lengthy process for a Spaniard to get a visa for Mexico. The purpose of this delegation was to investigate making tissue from sugar cane bagasse. Bagasse is what is left after sugar cane is processed. The sugar mills burn this residue in their boilers to generate electricity. If the bagasse were to be used for paper making, the government sugar mill in the Dominican village of Haina would have to convert to using petroleum to generate electricity. The refitting of the boiler to use petroleum would cost an estimated $ 1 million.

There were two operations in Mexico using this material with different manufacturing processes. One was Kimberly Clark and one was a process developed by WR Grace Company.  Bagasse was also being used, along with waste paper, to make corrugating medium in Aricibo, Puerto Rico.

The Dominican delegation had come up with an estimate of $5 million for the installation of a bagasse pulping operation. I was by no means an expert in this field but after seeing the two Mexican installations, the $5 million appeared to be way short of the investment needed. Also, they had planned to sell the excess production. I kept asking “Where do sell bagasse pulp?” and I was assured that there was a big market. I pointed out that the Yellow Sheet (the nickname for The Official Board Market) listed the price of Liner Board, Corrugated Medium. Waste Paper, Bleached Wood Pulp and Unbleached Wood Pulp. There was no mention of Bagasse Pulp.

I realized that I was beginning to sound negative and I did not want to start my stay in The Dominican Republic that way so for the rest of the trip I mostly listened.

Upon return to the DR the delegation decided to call on a bagasse expert in the United

Nations. He came to The DR and told them that the $5 million investment they were planning was not valid and that to pulp bagasse it would take an investment of at least $25 million. That ended the project.

When I arrived in The Dominican Republic Ricardo Hernandez was in Spain but he had left instructions to make all of the records available to me. By the time he returned from Spain I had time to get a good look at all of his businesses. At that time besides Cartonera Hernandez (a corrugated box plant), he also had Cartonera Cibao (a folding box plant), Cartones Haina (a recycle paper mill) Fosforos Sol (a match company), Desperdeco, a waste paper collecting company) and Transportation (a trucking company).

After all this research and with stories I had heard, I began to realize what an interesting fellow I was working for.

One thing I found was that Ricardin, as he was known locally, was married to Trujillo's niece. As a result, he was a friend of Ramfis Trujillo, the dictator's famous (or infamous) son. This also included a close acquaintance with Porfirio Rubirosa who was the subject of the book “The Last Playboy” by ======.

Ricardin had taken over the management of Cartonera Hernandez in his early 20's upon the death of his father.  All of the other businesses of the group were started by Ricardin.

After spending 10 days going over the books, I realized that the purchase of Cartonera Hernandez by Inland Container was not going to happen because what Ricardin was saying and what Inland had told me did not match. It was not that Ricardin was lying, it was just that, as with most entrepreneurs, he did not bother with details and always thought in terms of what he was going to do next-not what was actually the situation.

When the audit, which Inland had required, came back, Inland asked us to come to New York to meet.  There we met with Bud Schaefer and others. They said “Ricky, (the English equivalent of Ricardin) we think you are a great guy but the audit shows a big difference in what you told us about your company and what the actual results are. We are sorry but we have to withdraw our offer”.

I was not surprised by this but Ricardin felt betrayed and never forgave Inland. He asked me to stay with him and I agreed to stay for a year and see how things worked out.

Upon returning to Santo Domingo the company obviously needed some financing since the sale did not go through. We went to Citibank, a branch of the US bank, which was the largest bank in the Dominican Republic. Ricardin had dealt with them as well as most banks in Santo Domingo, so they were familiar with the Hernandez companies. They asked how much he needed and he said “$600,000”.

They asked me how much I thought he needed and I replied “$ 4 million”. Ricardin almost fell out of his chair but the bankers were not surprised because they had copies of all of the Balance Sheets. They shaved us down to $3 million and we were able to re structure the group's finances and were in pretty good shape.

We found a nice house in Santo Domingo and moved there. Although I liked working for

Ricky, we did not like living in the Dominican Republic. We had become friends with

John Blandino, the manager of the Hotel Hispaniola and he gave us a special rate on a Suite in the Hotel. We terminated our lease on the house and moved in the hotel.

Also in the hotel was the cast and technicians from the movie “The Sorcerer” which was

which was being filmed in the Dominican Republic. This movie starred Roy Schieder

who had just finished, with acclaim, “Jaws”in which he played the sheriff. He, his wife and others in the cast and the technical staff were interesting people and we learned a little about the surprisingly complex job of making a movie.

We were going to the USA for Christmas and I contacted Bud Schaefer to see if there was any reason to stop by the headquarters of Inland Container while we were in the States and he said “The timing is perfect. We are going to start a consulting service in Latin America and Europe and we would like for you to be the Manager in Europe. Needless to say, Ann was ecstatic.

I gave a two month notice to Ricardin and at the end of the two months we went to Indianapolis, the Inland headquarters, for a two month training period.

By coincidence, our son Bill who was teaching at VPI, had just accepted a job in the department of Architecture at The University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida. On his way there he, his wife Debi and daughter Jennifer stopped by Indianapolis and spent a wonderful week with us. We were staying at the Columbia Club-a delightful place which had live music with dinner at night. Hoagy Carmichael, the composer of “Stardust” , and his orchestra  had played there after his graduation from the University of Indiana. He was fired because he insisted on playing Jazz instead of dinner music.

1977-1979

BRUSSELS

I had the option of selecting a base for the operation and I chose Brussels because it was central to all of Europe and we had liked it so much the few times we had been there at the Headquarters of Weyerhaeuser in Europe. This became our favorite location although there was something special about all of our assignments. Being the Headquarters of The Common Market and NATO made it an ideal headquarters for US businesses with operations in Europe. Consequently, we met some highly interesting people such as the military attaché to NATO, the president of General Foods-Europe, the European head of IBM to name a few. We were also impressed with the language capability of the European business personnel. It was not unusual to attend a meeting and have some members ask “what language do you wish to use?”

The job was highly interesting because, to make preliminary contacts I called on virtually all of the members of FEFCO (the European equivalent of the Fibre Box Association in the USA) This included corrugated box plants in England, Portugal, Spain, France, Germany, The Netherlands,  Belgium, Austria, Finland, Norway. While these preliminary trips produced very little business, the name of Inland Container became a household word in Europe.

I took Ann with me on many of the trips so that she became very familiar with what I was doing. One of her favorite trips was to Finland. The Board of Directors invited both of us to have lunch in the Executive dining room. We joked ahead of time that we probably would be served “Rudolph'. Sure enough, the first course was smoked Reindeer. It was sliced paper thin and was delicious. We did not realize that, in the Nordic countries, reindeer are herded and bred just as we do cattle.

Both business and personal life were great but, like many pleasant things, sometimes it is too good to last.

News came from headquarters that Time Magazine (Time Inc) had purchased Inland Container and the overseas operations were being closed. It was a sad time in the Tilson household.

Thinking that perhaps we would never get back to Europe, we decided to take a tour of Scotland since we had never been there. A friend, Jim Tappan-the President of General Foods-Europe, suggested an itinerary which turned out to be fantastic. We drove to Rotterdam, boarded the ferry and crossed over to Eye in northern England. We then drove to Edinburg, Scotland. I asked a passing motorist for directions to our hotel. Instead of giving me verbal instructions he said “follow me” and he led us to the hotel- that's hospitality. As so often happens when it is least expected, there were two couples from Lynchburg Va. Staying in the hotel so we caught up on the news from our previous residence. We also had the traditional Scottish dish of Haggis which is intestines and is traditionally washed down by a jigger of straight Scotch whiskey.

From Edinburg we drove to Aberdeen and stayed one night Glasgow. Then we drove to the Isle of Sky, passing Loch Ness on the way. Unfortunately, the Loch Ness Monster did not make an appearance as we passed. The Inn on the Isle of Skye is delightful. While we were there it was snowing. There were no rooms available at the Inn so we had a room in the owner's house which adjoined the Inn. When we went to bed we found hot bricks in the bed, making for a cozy sleep. The next morning we were invited by the owner's wife to join them in their living room. The owner, a retired colonel in the British Army who had been posted in India was seated in front of a roaring fire, having his morning Scotch and soda-not a bad way to start a cold day.

Our next stop was Inverlochy Castle and this turned out to be the high point of the trip. It is an old castle converted to a guest house with about 15 rooms. It is owned by one of the family members, a descendent of the original owners. His current occupation was as owner of a local whiskey distillery and he left the management of the Castle to his wife. She is a delightful and attractive Swedish lady. We arrived about 3 pm and when we checked in she said “I'm so sorry but you are too late for lunch. All we can offer you is Salmon sandwiches and champagne”. (Caviar was still in effect).

From there we went to the famous golf resort of Glen Eagles which is excellent but a bit of a let down after Inverlochy. The back to the ferry and return to plan the next move.

Inland offered me a job  managing a corrugated box plant in Princeton, New Jersey and while I'm sure this is a great town, we had gotten used to being “International Gypsies” and did not really want to return to the USA (although it remains the greatest country in the world).

1980 – 1994

DOMINICAN REPUBLIC # 2

I made contact with Ricardo Hernandez and he welcomed me back to work for him. When I left Cartonera Hernandez I said “Ricardin, the Hernandez group is in good financial shape and if you will spend a couple of years just managing it without starting something new, it will generate enough income to pay for any expansion without financing and jeopardizing the existing companies. I know this will be difficult because you are an entrepreneur and you thrive on crisis but please try.

He had followed this advice for 6 months and then bought a box plant in Puerto Rico and a mushroom growing company in Constanza, Dominican Republic.

Since we had not been happy living in the DR, he agreed that I could live elsewhere and commute. Ann and I looked diligently for a place in Puerto Rico but found that it was much like the DR Since there were direct flights to Miami we decided to buy a place in Coral Gables, Florida.  We found a nice condo at Biltmore 2 and settled in, meeting some new friends by recommendation of mutual friends in La Grange, Georgia.

I was assigned to straighten out Sun Container, the plant Ricky had bought. It turned out that this was one box plant too many for Puerto Rico. This plant hade been started by one of the survivors of the Bay of Pigs operation and a Puerto Rican. At that time the “Operation  Bootstrap[“ was in effect and one provision was that any industry not existing on the island at the start of the project would be tax exempt for many years. Although there were Sheet Plants on the island there no corrugators so this qualified for tax exemption. The other 3 plants had this same exemption and the strategy was to form two companies- one with the corrugator and the other with the finishing equipment. All the profit was funneled into the tax exempt company. This is why Ricardin bought the company but, of course, this is of no value if there is no profit. He had asked for an audit before the closing and it came back negative. He bought it anyway and kept one of the founder on as sales manager.

In addition to giving Ricardin false information about the health of the company. they failed to tell him that their strategy for breaking into the market was to sell at ridiculously low prices. At these prices, the more we sold, the more we lost.

After a fighting a losing battle for a year, Sun Container was finally closed and I moved from Puerto Rico to the Dominican Republic.

1980

CORAL GABLES

1995 –????

JAMAICA -HOUSING

ATLANTA

JAMAICA-WASTE

DOMINICA

MEXICO-HOUSING

GHANA

TAIWAN

ULTRABOX

UBI

NASSAU

TOCCOA

NATURAL ARGENTINE BEEF

LA PEITE MAISON

ULTRABOX 2

When we arrived in Sarasota we found a delightful Gourmet Market named Morton's, which had been in Sarasota for years. It was a place where we eventually knew all of the personnel by name and they knew us by name. Besides the Market it included Annabelle's Gift Shop and JD Ford Wines.

After having shopped there for a couple of years I wrote the following frivolous parody on the famous “Night Before Christmas” Poem

A MORTON'S CHRISTMAS CAROL

By Charlie Tilson with apologizes to Dr. Clement Moore

T' was the night before Christmas and all through the store

And all you could hear was one big roar

The doors were closed and the work was done

And now it was time to have some fun

Charlie was ecstatic while Todd counted cash

And Scooter and Wally were taking out trash

Cindy, Conchetta and Amelia too

Were all drinking Egg Nog as some naughty girls do

Jerry and Lou were not at all bored

They were drinking up the profits of JD Ford

Lester decided it was time to get loose

So he and Dawn were drinking Grey Goose

The girls in the Bakery treat Mr. Ann so nice

But they decided tonight to add a little bit of spice

So from under the counter they carved a big notch

And Lo and Behold there was a bottle of Scotch

Dave and Mary Ellen were tired of produce

They decided tonight to have a little bit of juice

Dave said “Mary Ellen, taste of tomatoes will vary

But they really taste best in a good Bloody Mary”

The Ladies in Annabelles must remain more sedate

So they're squeezing the juice from a great big Rum Cake

Patty and Linda said “That is so tacky.

All they left us was bottle of Sake”

The chefs in the kitchen said “Forget the linguini

Let's all settle in with a good Dry Martini”

And Herb at the meat counter and Mike too

Were passing around that Old Mountain Dew

And out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter

They sprang to the door to see what was the matter

And who did they see but Charlie and Ann

And Charlie was holding a jug in his hand

“I know you are closed 'cause it's quarter past ten

But I've run out of wine, so please let us in”

Ann said “Excuse him, his taste is mundane

What I really want is Verve Cliquot Champagne”

And to all of the rest not listed by name

At least we have spared you a good bit of shame

While the rest of the group is having its quota

You can now settle in with Old Bushmills and soda

Santa arrived to see such a sight

He said “I'll join you with a cold Bud Light”

And they heard him say as he rode out of sight

“Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night”

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