May 16, 1916 - February 18, 1975
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| Japan (1950) |
Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts
Monday, May 16, 2022
Tuesday, January 11, 2022
FLASHBACK: 9912 Collette (1965 - 1971)
Mary was happy to see her parents when we returned from Germany.
See, it does snow in El Paso! It only takes an inch or two to paralyze the Sun City. Charlie felt at home.
Oma loved Charlie.
Ken worked his magic at the beach with a new Type III Karmann Ghia, which he had shipped from Germany. This must be a later trip to Daytona, given the car and perfection of Charlie's cut.
By this time, I pretty much agreed with Mary about El Paso. She characterized it as "the cultural crotch of America."
But she and Ken returned and traded up on their new home. Ken installed the sprinkler system himself at 9912 Collette. DIY didn’t have a brand back then.
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| 9912 Collette |
We lived across the street from a family who sheltered their priest. Rumor had it he didn't remain celibate for long. The Franklin Mountains, Texas' tallest, loom in the background on a rare cloudy day.
See, it does snow in El Paso! It only takes an inch or two to paralyze the Sun City. Charlie felt at home.
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| Charlie (January 1968) |
Mary went for a French provincial look in the living room with reproductions of Maurice Utrillo paintings she purchased in Montmartre.
Here's where I attended middle school and unsuccessfully ran for class president with "Hon or Bust," my campaign slogan, printed on covered wagon fliers.
Ken and I spent a lot of time exploring in the Opel on weekends. Mary refused to ride in it any longer.
I'll never forget a long, slow drive to Columbus, NM, just north of the Mexican border, on a dirt road. By then, the railroad had stopped running.
We stopped at Pancho Villa State Park which commemorates the Mexican general's 1916 attack on the United States. Mary was born that year.
Mary served a German chocolate cake to the neighborhood gang on my 13th birthday. Ronnie matured into a literal ladykiller. Tommy was the only guy I ever bested in a fight. David, our ringleader, became a pint-size juvenile delinquent. I can't remember the tall boy's name, but I suspect he came to a better end than the other three.
Charlie adjusted to a much warmer life than he'd had in Heidelberg. Ken insisted that I walk him every morning and night along Trans Mountain Highway because he didn't want him pooping in our small backyard.
Cratchit had free run of the back yard in warm weather. It didn't take long before a cat killed him. His brown replacement delivered and ate a litter during one of Mary's bridge games.
Books from this middlebrow shelf (Harold Robbins, Jacqueline Susann, James Jones & Henry Sutton) gave me a crash course in human sexuality. Mary kept Portnoy's Complaint hidden in her lingerie drawer.
After returning from Viet Nam, Ken made good on his promise to build me a dune buggy. It spared me the trauma a lot of my gay friends had to endure during their high school years. Thanks, Dad!
Here's where I attended middle school and unsuccessfully ran for class president with "Hon or Bust," my campaign slogan, printed on covered wagon fliers.
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| Dowell Elementary School |
Ken and I spent a lot of time exploring in the Opel on weekends. Mary refused to ride in it any longer.
I'll never forget a long, slow drive to Columbus, NM, just north of the Mexican border, on a dirt road. By then, the railroad had stopped running.
We stopped at Pancho Villa State Park which commemorates the Mexican general's 1916 attack on the United States. Mary was born that year.
Mary served a German chocolate cake to the neighborhood gang on my 13th birthday. Ronnie matured into a literal ladykiller. Tommy was the only guy I ever bested in a fight. David, our ringleader, became a pint-size juvenile delinquent. I can't remember the tall boy's name, but I suspect he came to a better end than the other three.
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| Motley Crew: Ronnie, Tommy, Jeff, David & Forgotten (1966) |
Charlie adjusted to a much warmer life than he'd had in Heidelberg. Ken insisted that I walk him every morning and night along Trans Mountain Highway because he didn't want him pooping in our small backyard.
Before Ken shipped off to Viet Nam in 1966 we built a hutch for my new guinea pig. Charlie and Cratchit were Photo Pest's first photographic models.
I cheekily captioned this photo "Integration" and sent it to Ken to demonstrate how well Charlie and Cratchit were getting along.
Books from this middlebrow shelf (Harold Robbins, Jacqueline Susann, James Jones & Henry Sutton) gave me a crash course in human sexuality. Mary kept Portnoy's Complaint hidden in her lingerie drawer.
I took lots of photos to send to Ken in Saigon, mostly of Mary posing with my neighborhood friends including David . . .
and Susie and Pattie, sisters and Army brats who moved into the neighborhood during his absence.
After returning from Viet Nam, Ken made good on his promise to build me a dune buggy. It spared me the trauma a lot of my gay friends had to endure during their high school years. Thanks, Dad!
In their early 80s, Oma and Opa moved to El Paso so Mary could keep an eye on them. Here they are in Ruidoso, New Mexico.
They gave Mary their '64 Rambler. Ken was appalled, but she loved having an American car with an automatic transmission. They drove me to college in it. An eight-track tape of "Who's Next" never left the deck.
Mary eventually prevailed upon Ken to buy her a new Chevy Nova. Which I totaled. Not my fault!
I left this apple-cheeked kid behind to go to Columbia. Mary and Ken couldn't have been prouder. Don't judge their clothes. Polyester reigned in 1971!
FLASHBACK: 11G Holbein Ring (1963 -1965)
Mary had her spleen removed at what is now called the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, an hour's drive west of Heidelberg. Ken and I were on our own a lot for the first few months. We took a lot of walks in between afternoon and evening visiting hours.
To get to the modern hospital, we passed through the Old World in Kaiserslautern.
Mary's release brightened things immeasurably. We lived in military housing, across the hall from a British family. Mom joined the Columbia Record club and my lifelong love affair with pop music began. The original Broadway cast recording of "My Fair Lady" and movie themes played by Ferrante and Teicher on dueling pianos rarely left the turntable. "Exodus" was my favorite.
Barges loaded with cargo on the Neckar River fascinated Ken. Some came all the way south from Bremerhaven through the locks.
While Mary recuperated, we stuck pretty close to home. She hated being sick but she enjoyed being skinny and chic.
This must be the summer camp where I spent two miserable weeks. No doors on the toilets and somebody stole my stash of DC Comics that Ken & Mary brought on visiting day.
It wasn't long before we were ready to hit the autobahn again and briefly penetrate the Iron Curtain with a frightening visit to Berlin not long after the Soviets erected the Wall.
Alfred, Ken's nephew and another of my adult first cousins came to visit. He was in the Army and stationed in Poitiers, France. I never saw him again, either, although we continue to exchange Christmas cards.
Ken and Mary eventually agreed to get me another dog, a pedigreed poodle whose name was Sergeant Bilko von Reichenstein but we called him Charlie.
FLASHBACK: France (1963)
My memory really kicks in around age nine. And why wouldn't it? Mary and I joined Ken in France shortly after he collided with a horse-drawn honey wagon and totaled his beloved Corvair. Even as a young child, I knew not to get him started on Ralph Nader.
Our arrival had been delayed by the aftermath of the Cuban missile crisis, when military families were prohibited from going overseas. In the meantime, Mary bought me a cocker spaniel we named Taffy and Ken found a used car and a rental home "on the economy."
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| Taffy (El Paso, 1962) |
My world went from brown and dry to green and rainy as quickly as it took to get from El Paso to Orleans.
We were within walking distance of the Loire River. Unlike the Rio Grande, it was always full of water.
An itinerant artist knocked on our door one morning. In return for permission to harvest the snails in the garden, he offered to draw my likeness in colored pencil. I recently had it reframed and put it on display in my bedroom at the Florida Folly.
There were weekend trips to Paris, less than two hours north. Mary was an avid Francophile.
Ken promised a White Plains neighbor that he would find the grave of her son, William Shampnois, in the Brittany American Cemetery. He was killed two months after D-Day.
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| Reunited (Orleans, 1962) |
We were within walking distance of the Loire River. Unlike the Rio Grande, it was always full of water.
An itinerant artist knocked on our door one morning. In return for permission to harvest the snails in the garden, he offered to draw my likeness in colored pencil. I recently had it reframed and put it on display in my bedroom at the Florida Folly.
American soldiers irreverently nicknamed two city statues: "Joanie on the Pony" (Jeanne d'Arc)
. . . and "Dotty on the Potty."
There were weekend trips to Paris, less than two hours north. Mary was an avid Francophile.
We also visited the Palace of Versailles.
And Mont St. Michel made a big impression despite the dreary weather.
Ken promised a White Plains neighbor that he would find the grave of her son, William Shampnois, in the Brittany American Cemetery. He was killed two months after D-Day.
Mary's deteriorating health required a transfer to Germany, where the Army had superior medical facilities. I didn't want to leave, especially when I learned that Taffy couldn't go with us. Ken took me to feed the ducks one last time, something we did after visiting Mary in the hospital on a Sunday afternoon.
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