Lunch Money
11/25/2003
CONNECTIONS
I spent three years as the Maintenance Mechanic on East Anacapa Island, Channel Islands National Park. While there, I did some reading as to the history of the Island. I am also an avid sailor and had the good fortune to become friends with another avid sailor named Larry Dudley. In the 1940’s Larry was first mate on the vessel "Santana" owned by Humphry Bogart. From my reading and conversations with Larry I pieced together this interesting group of connections:There is a late 19th century government etching of the east end of Anacapa Island, now part of Channel Islands National Park, which depicts the arch rock located at the east end of the Island with a few sea gulls flying above the arch. The drawing was part of a set of navigational charts produced by the government for mariners. The artist who made that drawing was James Whistler, of Whistlers’ Mothers fame, who was later fired from his government job at the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey, for including the sea gulls in that etching, a no no for government drawings, and various other non-permitted inclusions in his drawings. A report on his job performance stated "he is often tardy or absent and has a tendency to doodle on government charts." The Anacapa drawings were later used as the basis for locating what eventually became the Anacapa Lighthouse. Built between 1928 and 1932 it was one of the last major remote lighthouse stations to be built in the U.S.
Whistler moved to Europe and pursued his career as an Artist where he would occasionally take on paying students in order to generate some income. One of those students was a young lady from New York who wanted to improve her skills as an illustrator for the children’s books she was writing. While studying in Europe she met a young American man who quickly displaced her interest in art for romantic interest in him. A marriage soon followed and the couple returned to New York, Maud Bogart nee:Humphry continuing with writing children’s books, De Forest Bogart pursuing a career as a surgeon. The child of that union we all know today as Humphry Bogart born in 1899.
The adult Bogart was an avid sailor and owned a beautiful ocean racer named "Santana"(also the name of the boat in "Key Largo"). He would often sail in the "Channel Islands Race" which ran from Long Beach Harbor, around the Channel Islands, back to Long Beach. The navigational aid used by all participants in the race to locate the Channel Islands was of course Anacapa Lighthouse, placed there from drawings made by Whistler, who had been his mothers illustration instructor.
Small world.
11/11/2003
In 1918, on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day in the eleventh month, the world rejoiced and celebrated. After four years of bitter war, an armistice was signed. The "war to end all wars" was over.I was standing at the checkout stand today while the lady ahead of me struggle to fill out a check to pay for her purchase. After what seemed a lifetime she handed the check the cashier who reviewed it and then handed it back saying "you need to change the date to the eleventh" . Oh, said the lady as she looked back at me apologetically. I smiled and said "no problem, today is Veterans day you know, the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month. That’s the way I remember it". Both the lady and the cashier looked at me dumbfounded and the cashier asked " what’s that’ I’ve never heard that before !". I actually felt a tear well up in me. At that moment I heard the collective sigh of thousands of young souls. Young soldiers buried throughout the world, lost to the various wars (maddness) that has come to almost every generation . Had their loss, their sacrifice, their blood, their bravery and gut retching agonizing fear been lost from the collective memory of those they died for, the next generations ?
I am a Veteran. I do not say that often or do I often talk about my experience in Viet Nam from 1966 to 1967. I am like thousands of others who went to war and did the not so glorious part of war called support. I did not participate in any battles, sieges, campaigns or actions. I was not physically wounded. I lived in a tent with twenty other guys and did a job ten to twelve hours a day, six days a week for three hundred and fifty five days (I circled every one on a calendar). As so aptly put in a scene from what I believe is a great antiwar movie Mr Roberts, I "sailed from boredom to tedium to apathy and back again". It was a backward , foreign country and a war zone, and I never was not scared and lonely , except when I was drinking to much beer which was all the time that I was not working or sleeping.
There was a skinny young guy from Los Angeles in the tent next to mine. His parents would occasionally send him copies of the L.A. Times and he would share them with me. A taste of Southern California, of home. I remember how great it was to read about familiar names and places. I cannot say we were close friends but friends we were. Comrades in the struggle to sane in a crazy world. Coming from a small mostly white and Hispanic Southern California town, Cleve became the first black American I had ever known let alone befriended. And I felt privilaged that he would let me in his small circle of friends. Even in my training companies there had been few blacks and everyone seemed to self segregate themselves. Black and white alike. Many of my racial prejudices based from ignorance were erased by Cleve and his friends.
About halfway through our tour of duty in the Nam, Cleve, became quite ill. He would go on sick call and the medics would send with back with a handful of aspirin to try to reduce his fever, and orders for "bed rest" which meant that he got to lay in his bunk in 110 degree heat all day. On the third day of being sent back from the hospital with aspirins and bed rest, Cleve collapsed in the middle of the company area while trying to walk to his tent. One of the few decent Officers in our outfit saw Cleve, found out was going on from us and immediately drove Cleve back to the Hospital. We were with him when he literally ordered the intake Medics to admit Cleve or heads would roll. Two days later while laying in one of the largest Field Hospitals in Viet Nam, Cleve Jackson of Los Angeles California died of an infected bowel.
In 1985 I visited Washington DC and one of the first things I did when I arrived there was to visit the Wall (The Viet Nam Memorial). I searched the list of names for Cleveland Jackson and found nothing. I went to the information booth and asked for help. Why wasn’t Cleves name in the book? How could I find his name on the Wall ? The guy at the booth was a Veteran himself and I think understood my sense of urgency. He told me in matter of fact but understanding way that because Cleve did not die of wounds received in hostile action or in combat, his name is not on the Wall. I was dumb struck and still am.
So to Blogging world, on the eleventh day, of the eleventh month, I offer in memory of a fallen soldier the name:
Cleveland Jackson
11/08/2003
Dos Guys
For those of you who still remember some of your High School Spanish 101, dos guys loosely translated means two guys. I t was the name of a two person motorcycle club that a couple of old friends of mine started years ago. They both had purchased motorcycles (Harley Sportsters I think). They formed the club, had jackets made and of course limited membership to the two of them. I would see them all over town, just the two of them, with jackets and bikes having a great time together. What fun!I just spent over a week with my daughters' (aka webmonkey) Australian boyfriend (aka significant other). He was in the States on Unversity business and arranged his schedule to spend time with me.
Why is it people always seem to wait for company to arrive in order to take advantage of the fun things to do around there home town? My sister lives just south of San Francisco and often remarked she hardly ever went into the city until I came to visit. I guess we all just get caught up in our day to day routines and forget how to play in our own back yards. Adam and I played well together in my back yard. We enjoyed the Experience Music Project in Seattle, bike rides around Bellingham harbor, and the funky and fun Bellingham radio museum. It was good to have someone to kick around with or just hang out with. It was just as great to play some cards (he thoroughly thrashed me) or share a video and discuss it afterwards. It's been a while since I've been able to do that and for sure I need to do it more often. I think we kinda became dos guys. What fun!
Thanks Adam
