I joined the Navy on Sep 19, 1958. I did this for one reason. The reason was so I would get out of the Navy on Sep 18, 1962 and I would be done with my military obligation because there was a ''draft'' back then and if I did not join something, Uncle Sam would come and get me when I reached about 21 or 22. When I went into the Navy we were not in a ''shooting war'' anywhere that I knew of so I figured the odds were pretty good that I would come home all in one piece.
I went to boot camp in Camp Moffitt outside of Chicago and this was the first place I ever seen ice freeze on the inside of a window in the winter time and the first indoor plumbing I was blessed with.
In Navy boot camp you are groomed to be a Sailor. You are taught that there is the ''Right Way'' ''The Wrong Way'' and ''The Navy Way'' to do anything and we did everything ''The Navy Way''. I graduated boot camp in mid December and went on two weeks leave back home. I thought I was hot snot because I had finished boot camp without freezing to death.
My first assignment was class A Radio school in Norfolk Va. It was told that if you graduated in the top 10% of the class you got ''choice duty'' out of radio school. I graduated third out of 64 men and seventh out of 128 men in our total company for that training period. My duty station was the Uss North Hampton CLC-1 out of Norfolk. This was not ''choice duty'' but the Navy will lie to you sometimes.
I never realized it back then but I was being groomed to be a part of a great fraternal or group of men and ladies now called Veterans. I was being put in the ''fire'' and forged into a useful military person that could fulfill a job given me by the Navy. I was a tiny cog in a giant machine that helped make the world safer for those we love back home. I was one of those tiny pieces of nothing that helped make the ''big machine'' work smoothly.
I went aboard the Norton with high hopes and great expectations. I was assigned to the biggest radio gang afloat. We had more than 130 men in the gang not counting officers or chief petty officers.
On the Norton, I learned to be a real ''salt water sailor'' after a time. I crossed the ocean several times thru fair weather and foul. I have seen the ocean literally as slick as a mirror and I have seen it as rough as the Rockies and looking just as high. I have felt it knock around a ship almost 700 feet long like a tea cup and watched waves crash over the bow and up to the 04 level like Niagara falls in reverse. I have seen footprints up as far as two feet on the bulkheads on the chow line deck and, yes, I have strapped myself in bed to stay in my rack. I have stood on the fantail and ''peeeeed'' in the ocean and puked in the ocean once or twice from the fan tail. I have sat out at night on a ''bollard'' and watched the phosphorous glow on the hull of the ship and listened to the screws ''swim us thru the big deep''. I have been on a ship with over 1600 crew men and been all alone watching the shooting stars in Gods heaven. The Norton had a ''heart beat'' and it could rock you to sleep sometimes and sometimes it could literally shake you out of bed in foul weather. On the Norton I became a sailor and when I left her I became a veteran. I joined the ranks of the men and women that have served this nation and I considered myself as doing very little during my tour. I never shot at anyone nor was I shot at by anyone. The most ''action'' I ever saw was two hookers knife fighting in a bar over in Palma, Spain.
Veterans are very special people. I have talked to many vets and we all kinda sing the same song. Our chosen service was the greatest and the ''worstest''. We that served were the bravest and the strongest, the most handsome and we had deflowered literally hundreds of young ladies waiting on our advances. Other services were a bunch of ''sissy pukes'' that were mommas boys and afraid of the dark and ours was the best of the best. If you dont believe this ask any Marine or Soldier or Sailor or Air force guy or a Coast Guard sailor or even someone that was in the ''National Guard'' will tell you the same thing because we are all vets and we are all in the same group. Sure we jab and gig each other about thier particular service branch but let an emergency hit and watch us come together and fight for a common cause. You have to be a vet to understand this and if you are not a veteran, there is no way that I can explain the feelings we vets have for each other. We are one in the same and we have served and anyone that has not ''served'' would never understand. Some of us are still a little rough around the edges and we may be outspoken at times. Some of us see the world thru different eyes and with different allegiances and prospective s that those who never served and this will sometimes get us into trouble with the ''regular world'' but this is the way it is with a veteran. Most have been thru the fire and done and see things that would make the average person lose their lunch. Some have made judgments that have cost lives of their friends and more than one of these guys has watched the light of life leave a buddies eyes and could do nothing to save that friend. Some have been insane with fear and then deliberately run through machine gun to save a wounded buddy. Some have sailed the endless seas between tedium and apathy and back again and done it over and over and over again and seemingly accomplish nothing in their minds eye. Most of us have done things with no visible purpose as we could see but it had to be done and we were the ''doers''..... We were all Veterans serving this great nation and a lot of the time we would disagree with the method or purpose but we would serve because it was our duty to serve.
This is getting really long so I will close with one thought for those of you that were not lucky enough to serve this nation in some form of its military.
When you see a Veteran tell him or her thanks for their service. Shake their hand and tell them you appreciate their sacrifice to this nation. Probably to a person they will tell you that they just did their duty and no thanks is necessary but you can bet your lunch money they will appreciate your feelings for them.Be especially grateful to those serving in the ''big sandbox''. They are the most special as I see it now.
God bless our Veterans and keep them safe because they guaranteed the safety of this nation while most of you slept all nice and warm in your bed. (think about it)
Nuff said for now...........................cj...............
Thursday, February 9, 2012
A poem dedicated to Bill ''Birdman'' Vogal
Back in 08 me and Willa stopped by to see a couple of friends we had met on one of those Caravans. Their names were Bill and Cathy Vogal and they lived just out of Upper Lake, California. We called ahead to warn them and they said ''Come on by, you can set up of the ''Back Lot'' with full hook up''. The ''Back Lot'' is where they set their camper while they built their house on the 20 plus acres on top of a mountain out there. We went by and drank some wine and ate some ''toe foo'' and generally had fun while we mooched off these wonderful people. One night at supper Cathy said that Bill wanted to go hang gliding tomorrow and he would love for us to go watch. Not a problem on our part and the next morning Bill and I loaded up his hang glider on the top of a giant SUV that came by just to pick him and his ''kite'' up. I decided to ride up with the girls in Bills four wheel drive SUV. I learned we were going up on Elk Mountain to watch them fly. We started out on pavement road and advanced to a dirt road up the mountain and then to a ''fire road'' up the side of the mountain. I noticed Cathy had a small FM radio and she called up to the top of the mountain to inform Shila that we were nearing what she called the ''pasture''. The ''pasture'' amounted to a parking area on the side of the mountain just before it got really steep. Shila arrived about the same time we did and we all piled into her SUV that was a little bit smaller than a Sherman tank.
I want everyone to understand that Shila's SUV was one of those giant trucks with the thousand horse power engine, double extra low range, very oversize tires with cleats that a rabbit can run thru, a cracked windshield and several ''grab iron hand grips'' inside the cab. Willa and Cathy jumped in the back seat and Shila patted the passenger seat and said I could sit up front with her.
Shila was a full figured woman with a delightful smile and a head full of curly hair and she talked constantly. I hopped in the front seat and found my seat belt and we started up the ''steep part of the mountain''. Now when I say ''STEEP'' I mean ''REALLY STEEP''. Shila clicked the transmission into double low gear, four wheel drive and kicked in the afterburner. We went up the mountain.
Shila was constantly talking and driving on a road that would disappear under the SUV and all I could see was ''SKY''. Occasionally I would peek over to my right and see the edge of the mountain which dropped off for probably what seemed like a thousand feet. This ''fire road'' was more a path up the side of the mountain. It consisted primarily of two ditches with large rocks, logs, small animals, boulders, dead trees, holes, ditches both across and vertical to the surface of the road, or should I say trail, vertical trail. As we assented higher and higher Shela would drive with her left hand and point out interesting things along the way. She had an FM portable radio hanging on the rear view mirror and sometimes it would swing in a circle when we hit a bump just right. She finally noticed that I had gotten a grip on two of the ''hand holds'' on the dash and I was holding on for dear life. As we bounced along she laughed and pointed to the right and said '' If you look quick, between those two pines, you can see the Golden Gate Bridge''.....About then I became a Christian again.... Then she laughed a friendly laugh and we roared on up the mountain slinging stuff out behind the SUV tires. With her right hand she un hooked the portable radio from the mirror and told her husband we were getting close to the top of the mountain. We rolled over a log and leveled out on top of Elk Mountain. The guys were well into assembling their gliders when we got there. I was amazed at the relatively ''small area'' on top of the mountain and the seemingly almost vertical drop of both sides of the road as the mountain dropped away. For flying up there the guys had ''roped off'' and chain sawed all the scrub off the sides of the mountain for probably two hundred feet down the face on both sides. This was a safety factor in case they made a bad launch they would have a place to ''land'' (yeah sure) The actual ''working area'' up on top was maybe 100 feet long by maybe 50 feet wide at the widest point. We were literally on the ''peek'' of Elk Mountain.
The guys got all prepared and then they sat and watched the ribbons on the face to judge the wind for a satisfactory launch. Finally they decided things were perfect and they launched into the sky like eagles leaving the nest. Each of the guys had helmet radios and we could listen in on their conversations as they ''danced in the sky''. Shila finally said we should go down now and watch them cross ''Elk Creek'' which is their first landing field option.
Going down the mountain was ''funner'' than going up. God and Gravity pushed us down with small animals, rocks, boulders, trees, logs, stumps, and all manner of ''stuff'' being pushed down ahead of our sliding oversized tires, with extra large cleats, as we descended the mountain. I think I became a Christian again on the way down. Shela would watch me and laugh and talk on the FM radio to the guys as we descended the mountain with one hand on the wheel and the radio in the other hand.
She would smile that beautiful smile and say ''Ain't this fun??????'' over the roar of the engine and the whine of the transmission......
We made it down to the parking lot and Cathy, Willa and me transferred over to bills SUV and we continued down the mountain to Elk Creek to watch the guys pass over us at probably a mile off the ground.
They had what they call a ''short flight'' that day in that they were only in the air for a little over two hours. They had designated landing areas along their route and we would leapfrog ahead of their flight path and watch them go over. We could talk to them on the FM radio also.
We finally met them in a large pasture and we took Bills hang glider apart and placed it on top of the rack on the SUV and headed home. He had a digital camera mounted on his glider and he would make pictures of his prospective while flying. We sat that evening and reviewed the pictures and we could actually see ourselves waving from the ground.
Bill Vogal was a highly accomplished pilot, instructor, lecturer in the art of hang gliding. He won many championships and had a wall full of plaques attributing to his talent. Bill Vogal died doing what he loved a year later. He died at Elk Creek when he came in for a landing and did a ''wing over maneuver'' to avoid power lines and his left wing hit a small tree and he smashed to the ground. The impact killed my friend that day. He still lives in my mind and in my heart and I shall forever remember that day we went up on Elk Mountain to watch him ''fly''.....
Cathy asked me to preside over his ''Celebration of Life'' ceremony at his memorial. I wrote a poem in his honor and when I find it …. I will post it here.....
Nuff said for now... I'm getting sad..........
WHERE EAGLES TOUCH THE SKY…….
WHERE EAGLES DARE ….I’VE WATCHED MEN GO
TO FLY THEIR KITES AND FEEL THE GLOW
OF WIND AND SUN AND CLEAR BLUE SKY
AND WATCH AN EAGLE PASSING BY.
ELK MOUNTAIN IS THE PLACE THEY GO UPON A RIDGE SO TALL
I STOOD AND WATCHED AS THEY PREPARED, AFRAID THAT I MIGHT FALL.
THEY BUILD THEIR KITES AND SETTLE BACK AND WATCH THE WIND GO BY
THEY JUDGE THE WIND, THEY SAT AND TALKED, THEY EVEN WATCHED THE SKY
THEY WATCHED THE RIBBONS ON THE FACE AND JUDGED THE WIND AS IT DID RACE UP MOUNTAIN SLOPE AND PASSING BY,,,,
THEY WATCH THE EAGLES IN THE SKY.
THE WIND IS RIGHT, TIS TIME TO GO INTO THE FRAGILE KITES BELOW
AND EACH IN TURN WILL STEP AND FLY,,,,
LIKE EAGLES THEY WOULD TOUCH THE SKY.
WHILE ON THE GROUND I STAND IN FEAR AND WATCH THEM AS THEY DISAPPEAR IN THERMALS WITH UPLIFT AND GRACE,,,,,
I WATCH THEM DISAPPEAR IN SPACE..
THE RADIO IT CRACKLED LOUD AS THESE BRAVE FEW DANCED IN THE CLOUD
‘’ I’VE GOT GOOD LIFT. COME! FLY TO ME”
THEY TOUCHED THE SKY AND THEY WERE FREE
ON MOUNTAINTOP I STAND IN AWE AND WATCH BRAVE MEN IN FLIGHT
THEY DANCE AND DIVE AND CIRCLE ROUND,,
DO THINGS I WISH I MIGHT.
‘’HOP IN THE TRUCK, ITS TIME TO GO
FOR THEY ARE HEADING DOWN BELOW
AND WE MUST GO STRAIGHT TO OUR PLACE’’.
SO DOWN THE MOUNTAIN WE DID RACE.
THE RADIO IT CRACKLES LOUD, ‘’YOU’RE GONNA BUMP INTO A CLOUD’’ AND LAUGHTER FILTERS FROM THE SKY,
ABOVE OUR HEADS THEY DANCE AND FLY.
THEY DANCE THE DANCE OF FREEDOM SKY AND WE WILL NEVER KNOW
THE FEEL OF FREEDOM IN THE SKY LIKE LEAVES OR FALLING SNOW.
WE WATCH THEM AS THEY FLY SO HIGH, WE’LL NEVER KNOW THE REASON WHY
THEY RISK SO MUCH, AND GO SO HIGH, TO SOAR LIKE EAGLES IN THE SKY.
SO SOAR, MY FRIEND. ABOVE THE CLOUDS FOR THERE’S A PLACE FOR YOU
WHERE WINGS WILL NEVER LOSE THEIR LIFT, THE SKY IS ALWAYS BLUE
THE EAGLE’S NOW YOUR FRIEND YOU SEE AND LIKE AN EAGLE YOU WILL BE ,, YOU’LL FLY WITH HIM ON WINGS OF GOLD FOREVER YOUNG AND NEVER OLD …..
I’V STOOD AND WATCHED THE BRAVE MEN GO
WHERE ONLY EAGLES DARE TO FLY,
I’VE STOOD AND WATCHED, I WAS RIGHT THERE
WHEN BRAVE MEN TOUCHED GOD’S CLEAR BLUE SKY……………
DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MY FRIEND BILL ‘’BIRDMAN’’ VOGEL AND ALL HANG GLIDER PILOTS EVERYWHERE …….
C. RICHARD CECIL …..’’SEAJAY’’
The poem is in capps because it is tough to read it thru tears....cj...
I want everyone to understand that Shila's SUV was one of those giant trucks with the thousand horse power engine, double extra low range, very oversize tires with cleats that a rabbit can run thru, a cracked windshield and several ''grab iron hand grips'' inside the cab. Willa and Cathy jumped in the back seat and Shila patted the passenger seat and said I could sit up front with her.
Shila was a full figured woman with a delightful smile and a head full of curly hair and she talked constantly. I hopped in the front seat and found my seat belt and we started up the ''steep part of the mountain''. Now when I say ''STEEP'' I mean ''REALLY STEEP''. Shila clicked the transmission into double low gear, four wheel drive and kicked in the afterburner. We went up the mountain.
Shila was constantly talking and driving on a road that would disappear under the SUV and all I could see was ''SKY''. Occasionally I would peek over to my right and see the edge of the mountain which dropped off for probably what seemed like a thousand feet. This ''fire road'' was more a path up the side of the mountain. It consisted primarily of two ditches with large rocks, logs, small animals, boulders, dead trees, holes, ditches both across and vertical to the surface of the road, or should I say trail, vertical trail. As we assented higher and higher Shela would drive with her left hand and point out interesting things along the way. She had an FM portable radio hanging on the rear view mirror and sometimes it would swing in a circle when we hit a bump just right. She finally noticed that I had gotten a grip on two of the ''hand holds'' on the dash and I was holding on for dear life. As we bounced along she laughed and pointed to the right and said '' If you look quick, between those two pines, you can see the Golden Gate Bridge''.....About then I became a Christian again.... Then she laughed a friendly laugh and we roared on up the mountain slinging stuff out behind the SUV tires. With her right hand she un hooked the portable radio from the mirror and told her husband we were getting close to the top of the mountain. We rolled over a log and leveled out on top of Elk Mountain. The guys were well into assembling their gliders when we got there. I was amazed at the relatively ''small area'' on top of the mountain and the seemingly almost vertical drop of both sides of the road as the mountain dropped away. For flying up there the guys had ''roped off'' and chain sawed all the scrub off the sides of the mountain for probably two hundred feet down the face on both sides. This was a safety factor in case they made a bad launch they would have a place to ''land'' (yeah sure) The actual ''working area'' up on top was maybe 100 feet long by maybe 50 feet wide at the widest point. We were literally on the ''peek'' of Elk Mountain.
The guys got all prepared and then they sat and watched the ribbons on the face to judge the wind for a satisfactory launch. Finally they decided things were perfect and they launched into the sky like eagles leaving the nest. Each of the guys had helmet radios and we could listen in on their conversations as they ''danced in the sky''. Shila finally said we should go down now and watch them cross ''Elk Creek'' which is their first landing field option.
Going down the mountain was ''funner'' than going up. God and Gravity pushed us down with small animals, rocks, boulders, trees, logs, stumps, and all manner of ''stuff'' being pushed down ahead of our sliding oversized tires, with extra large cleats, as we descended the mountain. I think I became a Christian again on the way down. Shela would watch me and laugh and talk on the FM radio to the guys as we descended the mountain with one hand on the wheel and the radio in the other hand.
She would smile that beautiful smile and say ''Ain't this fun??????'' over the roar of the engine and the whine of the transmission......
We made it down to the parking lot and Cathy, Willa and me transferred over to bills SUV and we continued down the mountain to Elk Creek to watch the guys pass over us at probably a mile off the ground.
They had what they call a ''short flight'' that day in that they were only in the air for a little over two hours. They had designated landing areas along their route and we would leapfrog ahead of their flight path and watch them go over. We could talk to them on the FM radio also.
We finally met them in a large pasture and we took Bills hang glider apart and placed it on top of the rack on the SUV and headed home. He had a digital camera mounted on his glider and he would make pictures of his prospective while flying. We sat that evening and reviewed the pictures and we could actually see ourselves waving from the ground.
Bill Vogal was a highly accomplished pilot, instructor, lecturer in the art of hang gliding. He won many championships and had a wall full of plaques attributing to his talent. Bill Vogal died doing what he loved a year later. He died at Elk Creek when he came in for a landing and did a ''wing over maneuver'' to avoid power lines and his left wing hit a small tree and he smashed to the ground. The impact killed my friend that day. He still lives in my mind and in my heart and I shall forever remember that day we went up on Elk Mountain to watch him ''fly''.....
Cathy asked me to preside over his ''Celebration of Life'' ceremony at his memorial. I wrote a poem in his honor and when I find it …. I will post it here.....
Nuff said for now... I'm getting sad..........
WHERE EAGLES TOUCH THE SKY…….
WHERE EAGLES DARE ….I’VE WATCHED MEN GO
TO FLY THEIR KITES AND FEEL THE GLOW
OF WIND AND SUN AND CLEAR BLUE SKY
AND WATCH AN EAGLE PASSING BY.
ELK MOUNTAIN IS THE PLACE THEY GO UPON A RIDGE SO TALL
I STOOD AND WATCHED AS THEY PREPARED, AFRAID THAT I MIGHT FALL.
THEY BUILD THEIR KITES AND SETTLE BACK AND WATCH THE WIND GO BY
THEY JUDGE THE WIND, THEY SAT AND TALKED, THEY EVEN WATCHED THE SKY
THEY WATCHED THE RIBBONS ON THE FACE AND JUDGED THE WIND AS IT DID RACE UP MOUNTAIN SLOPE AND PASSING BY,,,,
THEY WATCH THE EAGLES IN THE SKY.
THE WIND IS RIGHT, TIS TIME TO GO INTO THE FRAGILE KITES BELOW
AND EACH IN TURN WILL STEP AND FLY,,,,
LIKE EAGLES THEY WOULD TOUCH THE SKY.
WHILE ON THE GROUND I STAND IN FEAR AND WATCH THEM AS THEY DISAPPEAR IN THERMALS WITH UPLIFT AND GRACE,,,,,
I WATCH THEM DISAPPEAR IN SPACE..
THE RADIO IT CRACKLED LOUD AS THESE BRAVE FEW DANCED IN THE CLOUD
‘’ I’VE GOT GOOD LIFT. COME! FLY TO ME”
THEY TOUCHED THE SKY AND THEY WERE FREE
ON MOUNTAINTOP I STAND IN AWE AND WATCH BRAVE MEN IN FLIGHT
THEY DANCE AND DIVE AND CIRCLE ROUND,,
DO THINGS I WISH I MIGHT.
‘’HOP IN THE TRUCK, ITS TIME TO GO
FOR THEY ARE HEADING DOWN BELOW
AND WE MUST GO STRAIGHT TO OUR PLACE’’.
SO DOWN THE MOUNTAIN WE DID RACE.
THE RADIO IT CRACKLES LOUD, ‘’YOU’RE GONNA BUMP INTO A CLOUD’’ AND LAUGHTER FILTERS FROM THE SKY,
ABOVE OUR HEADS THEY DANCE AND FLY.
THEY DANCE THE DANCE OF FREEDOM SKY AND WE WILL NEVER KNOW
THE FEEL OF FREEDOM IN THE SKY LIKE LEAVES OR FALLING SNOW.
WE WATCH THEM AS THEY FLY SO HIGH, WE’LL NEVER KNOW THE REASON WHY
THEY RISK SO MUCH, AND GO SO HIGH, TO SOAR LIKE EAGLES IN THE SKY.
SO SOAR, MY FRIEND. ABOVE THE CLOUDS FOR THERE’S A PLACE FOR YOU
WHERE WINGS WILL NEVER LOSE THEIR LIFT, THE SKY IS ALWAYS BLUE
THE EAGLE’S NOW YOUR FRIEND YOU SEE AND LIKE AN EAGLE YOU WILL BE ,, YOU’LL FLY WITH HIM ON WINGS OF GOLD FOREVER YOUNG AND NEVER OLD …..
I’V STOOD AND WATCHED THE BRAVE MEN GO
WHERE ONLY EAGLES DARE TO FLY,
I’VE STOOD AND WATCHED, I WAS RIGHT THERE
WHEN BRAVE MEN TOUCHED GOD’S CLEAR BLUE SKY……………
DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MY FRIEND BILL ‘’BIRDMAN’’ VOGEL AND ALL HANG GLIDER PILOTS EVERYWHERE …….
C. RICHARD CECIL …..’’SEAJAY’’
The poem is in capps because it is tough to read it thru tears....cj...
NEW FACES ...... WELCOME
I see a few ''new faces'' on the line that shows people that have joined this blog.
W E L C O M E .......
This blog is an accumilation of various thoughts, sea stories, rememberances and a lot of other stuff that I have written down that folks seem to enjoy. Some of it was posted on Irv2 before they booted my ass off but such is life I guess. These posts and others were quoted as ''not R.V. related'' and I guess that gave them cause to get rid of me. Such is life I suppose but is is of little consiquence to me anyway.
Feel free to e mail me if you like
seajaycecil@yahoo.com
or I am now on www.rvforum.net if you care to drop in some time .
I usually post on ''The Shadetree'' and sometimes under ''General Conversation'' if you care to look ...
I will be adding to this mess occasionally and I would appreciate any comment ,,,, good or bad as you see fit.
ps. I am still trying to figure out how to e mail you guys from the pictures you posted.... No luck yet ,,,,,,, that is why I joined my own blog.....
be safe and thand a vet for your freedoms ....
Seajay the sailor man ....
W E L C O M E .......
This blog is an accumilation of various thoughts, sea stories, rememberances and a lot of other stuff that I have written down that folks seem to enjoy. Some of it was posted on Irv2 before they booted my ass off but such is life I guess. These posts and others were quoted as ''not R.V. related'' and I guess that gave them cause to get rid of me. Such is life I suppose but is is of little consiquence to me anyway.
Feel free to e mail me if you like
seajaycecil@yahoo.com
or I am now on www.rvforum.net if you care to drop in some time .
I usually post on ''The Shadetree'' and sometimes under ''General Conversation'' if you care to look ...
I will be adding to this mess occasionally and I would appreciate any comment ,,,, good or bad as you see fit.
ps. I am still trying to figure out how to e mail you guys from the pictures you posted.... No luck yet ,,,,,,, that is why I joined my own blog.....
be safe and thand a vet for your freedoms ....
Seajay the sailor man ....
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