FF XVIII, 36

Frank Facts and Reviews

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Volume XVIII, No. 36


   
Thanksgiving wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without Mince Meat Pie!

     I was the ninth of nine children born to Rose and Sam Imbragulio. I never had the pleasure of meeting two of my siblings; as one was born a “Blue Baby”, and the other had pneumonia when he was born. Neither lasted even a week. But the rest of us were survivors (only Sammy did not live into his seventies). By the time I came along, the Imbragulio Thanksgiving feast had been pretty well Americanized (well, almost with a few minor adjustments). Our turkey (always bought live in those pre-frozen food days) had all manner of things tried on it (mostly at Rosie’s suggestions) from putting a rusty nail in the water in which it was boiled, to even sillier suggestions).  Our large family demanded such a huge bird, that Mama tended to boil it too long, causing the meat to have very little taste, and giving an almost rubbery feeling when gnawing on it.

Our dressing was neither cornbread nor any other kind of bread, except for a few de-crusted slices of what the other townspeople called “Light Bread”. Daddy always sent ground beef and pork (in the proper portions, back to the house for the stuffing, which was shoved into his body. The seasoning included exactly the same ingredients as Mama’s meatballs: eggs, finely chopped garlic, grated Parmesan cheese, a few slices of crusted bread that was soaked in water, parsley, basil. It was heavy. Everything about that meal was heavy! But we all loved it and enjoyed it so much that it became adopted as our Christmas dinner the following month.

Instead of spaghetti, with the meatball dressing, there was always Pastina      (miniscule pasta) cooked in the broth, and usually with uninteresting Lettuce Salad (it was sometimes dressed up with celery and a few cut-up tomatoes) and of course the only lettuce you could buy this side of New Orleans, was the old-fashioned and tasteless Ice-Berg lettuce.

That left the door wide open for dessert. And, as I said, by my time, it was always Mince Meat Pie! I’m almost certain that Mama was not the instigator of this now hard-to-find dessert. My guess is that Anna found out about it during her Jr. College days, in what was known as the “Practice Home” (a glorified sort of period when the girls spent a week in a Home Economics environment, and wrote in neat and dainty script, all the recipes they learned to prepare.) These ranged from Welch Rarebit (better known as Rabbit) through Butterfly Salads, to banana and pineapple pudding and several other luscious desserts. For decades after her time at this Practice Home, Anna’s old spiral bound notebook, with her cramped (but highly legible script) could be found in the drawer of the little white kitchen table. And we all used it sooner or later!

At the time when we began the Mince Meat Pie fad, Daddy sold little pasteboard boxes of Mince Meat in the market. It was a very small box, and I believe it cost a quarter (which was rather a stiff price for such a small package in the 1930s.) I distinctly remember reading the directions, which told you to cut the contents of the package into small bits, adding some sort of liquid when placing it in a small pot, and then cooking it for fifteen minutes over medium heat, stirring constantly. I now have visions of watching Anna, adding all kinds of other ingredients (including a little red wine) more sugar, and so on. She then stood defiantly over the stove unit, usually stirring it with an old fashioned spatula (until I finally gave her a rotating mixer—not electric) with her jaw muscles looking as if they were going to snap in two, so hard was she coming down on them.

She then poured the hot mixture into a waiting pie shell, and after it was spread out, she weaved strips of pie dough giving the pie the looks of a sort of plaid material.

Occasionally, there would be requests for other types of pies, but there were secondary ones: only the Mince Meat was traditional. Quite often, particularly at Christmas, Daddy ordered a large number of Cannoli from Brocato’s Italian Delicaes shop in New Orleans. These were extremely difficult to make (as one after the other of our sisters learned the hard way) and back in the 30’s, they cost a dime each. How well I remember when the price soared to a quarter each! Daddy began talking about refusing to order any more. Last Sunday, I checked the price of a canola, at Brunos, where they turn out decent (but much smaller) canoli for $2.50 each. Like my Daddy, I passed them up. Mince meat is good enough for me.

Other Holiday cooking that was done at our house, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, were fruit cakes (Mama’s and Anna’s were hard to beat) using every sort of candied fruit that we sold in the Market: Pineapple and Cherries (red and green-both colors) citron, figs, orange and lemon peel, pecans.

Mama made several other Italian delicacies: my personal favorite were what she called Vomva-Reeki (or some such word). It was sort of like a Fig Newton, but with ground nuts added. Some of our relative’s version of this dessert, had a white glaze added to the exterior. But I always  preferred Mama’s plainer treat.

 

Draft Dodgers Anonymous

When we were finally got to our rightful training unit (Headquarters, First Infantry Division) it was late in the afternoon.

We were told to select a bed (army cots can be more wonderful than the most expensive mattress in the world!) and

to take a shower. And then we had our first meal there. This was all before we had the second most horrible

 experience of our young lives. We were told to stand at attention, in formation, where we saw this horrible

old Caprain who introduced himself as our as commanding officer, and the first thing he said, after that, was

“I need fifteen volunteers for K.P.”

I looked furtively as far as I could see without turning my head. There were, of course none, “OK, now,

everybody get into a good, comfortable lean rest position.” (Now there is an oxymoron, if ever I heard one!)

I had no idea what he was telling us to do, but decided to do as the others were doing: even Marcus! We basically

 reclined on the black top, face downward, balancing our body weight on the toes of our shoes. “The first fifteen men

who fall flat are on K. P. for the rest of today!”

I was hell bent on not being one  of this elite fifteen! As the entire platoon began to feel the strain on our poor,

unused bodies, the captain decided to ask questions about our education. Now, my ears perked up! Maybe he was

not as harsh as he had at first appeared!

“How many of you have some college education?” Along with most of the fellows, my hand went up. This,

of course, put more of a strain on the other arm that was not raised.

“How many of you have a college degree?” The number was not as large as the first question. But with,

“Have any of you had any graduate study?” I was one of about five who lifted my arm proudle.

. “Any graduate degrees?”  I was the only one.

     Meanwhile, he was walking among our bodies, which were spread out, but more and more of them had fallen already.

     “OK, you guys report to the kitchen for KP duty. And you will have to clean the grease trap, too. Now, the next

time I ask for volunteers, if I don’t get as many as I need, in the first five minutes, I’ll make your ass look just like a sody

cracker!” I shuddered involuntarily!

     I later found out that nobody had any idea what he had meant, but none of us had the slightest idea of finding out!

     Later, after he gave us an “At ease”, a far less pleasant looking HUGE fellow strode out and told us he was the

Quartermaster, and would be issuing, to each of us, our foot lockers, and our GI issued clothing. I thought, silently,

“Well. It’s about time!” I was getting tired of wearing only the clothes I had come here with, and they were far from

Clean!

        However, when he shoved that locker on my back, giving me an extra push downward, I felt as if my poor

Old back would surely break! But, by one of God’s minor miracle, I managed to make it into our “Home” and up

the stairs to the second floor, where Marcus and I had selected our bunks. He had said something about the fact that

everything must be S. O. P’ed. and always ready to pass inspection by our Cadre, but I was too intent on merely

getting my “gifts” up those last few steps. Then, I would worry.

        As I sat on the bunk to rest my weary body, I heard fellows all around me fussing. “How in the HELL do they

want us to get all this crap into that one lil’ ole locker!” I did not even have time to get worried. Suddenly, out of nowhere,

as it were, Lavon Hudson was standing before me, and saying some such heaven-sent words as, “I just thought I’d

come by to see if you might be needing any help about now,”

        I didn’t even have time to get panicky in the least! And he sat there, as I adoringly looked on as he took each pair

Jockey shorts, clean white Tee shirts, khaki pants and shirts. When I said that I did not see how we were expected to get

alll that junk into that one small wooden box, Lavon reminded me that we still had an upright closet to hand clothes in. Oh,

what a relief that was!

        I did get him to teach me how to get some of the items folded properly before he returned to his own room in the

Band School (where I assumed I would also end up).

        After he left, I undressed and went to bed, I was utterly exhausted! I wondered vaguely, if I would be able to survive

this next eight weeks! And I offered a prayer of thanks to God, for letting us escape from that sixteen week Tent Company!

I thought, without giving too much thought to it, how I would ever be able to sleep with all of the racket of all of those

Recruits’ fussing as they had to get their’s done with no guardian angel to help them; but I had no problem whatso-

ever!
(To be Continued)

 

WARLOCK!

Ed went into the Navy. Shortly after concluding his Music Theory Degree, with the University of South Alabama, and the next news I had from him was that he was playing his flute with the Navy Band! I have not mentioned that he took lessons from Dr. Jones (Music Dept. head the four years I was there) and naturally, Ed played circles around Jones. After his Navy experience ended, Ed spent some time in New York. I hope I am getting the sequence correct, because he went to so many different places, and usually did something altogether new, different, and (to me, anyhow) startlingly professional, that my poor old brain just recoils at attempting to get everything he did in his all-too-brief lifetime.

In checking with Dale Hudson, I learned something I had not known: he taught mathematics in Pensacola (his hated home town) between his first degree and his going to New York!

In New York, he did some music manuscript copying for any number of professional musicians; and I assure you, each page that I saw was so beautifully done, that I could hardly believe that a mere human being had done it! Somewhere in his travels, he picked up degrees in Library Science; moved to Utah, where he did mental battle with the Mormans.

   

Kitty Mew-sings

Thanks to those of you who liked “What Makes My Cat Purr” enough to tell me they enjoyed it. I seldom find one with which I am so closely attuned!

 

Movie Trivia Quiz #60

1.      Who was Shane, in the movie?

2.      What child actor from Member of the Wedding, said the line, “Come back, Shane!”

3.      Name the actress who was a frequent co-star to James Stewart, who played the boy’s mother in Shane.

4.      Who was the leading female in The Member of the Wedding?

5.      Gary Cooper won an Oscar for what 1952 Western?

6.      Who was his blonde wife in the film?

7.      For which film did she win an Oscar?

8.      Dial M for Murder was directed by what famous director? It starred the Oscar Winner from question 7.

9.      Who was her Oscar winning husband (who tries to murder her)?

10.  There is a third major star in this Broadway play to a movie. What was his name? (Hint: he was also in King’s Row with Ann Sheridan.)

 

Answers to “Color” Trivia Quiz

1.      Roddy McDowell was the lad in How Green was my Valley.

2.      Mia Farrow was The Purple Rose of Cairo.

3.      William Holden’s first big hit was Golden Boy.

4.      Robert Alda (Alan’s father) played George Gershwin in Rhapsody in Blue.

      5, Bette David was Miss Moffat in The Corn is Green.

        6. Vivian Leigh played Scarlet O’Hara in Gone with the Wind. And if you missed this, go and sit in the corner!

       7. The Lone Ranger’s horse was called “Silver”.

        8. Mollie Rindwald was Pretty in Pink.

       9. Hurd Hatfield was in The Picture of Dorian Gray?

       10. Anne Jeffreys was The Lady in Red in Dillinger.

 

Sunday, November 25, 2012

FF XVIII, 36

Frank Facts and Reviews

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Volume XVIII, No. 36


   
Thanksgiving wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without Mince Meat Pie!

     I was the ninth of nine children born to Rose and Sam Imbragulio. I never had the pleasure of meeting two of my siblings; as one was born a “Blue Baby”, and the other had pneumonia when he was born. Neither lasted even a week. But the rest of us were survivors (only Sammy did not live into his seventies). By the time I came along, the Imbragulio Thanksgiving feast had been pretty well Americanized (well, almost with a few minor adjustments). Our turkey (always bought live in those pre-frozen food days) had all manner of things tried on it (mostly at Rosie’s suggestions) from putting a rusty nail in the water in which it was boiled, to even sillier suggestions).  Our large family demanded such a huge bird, that Mama tended to boil it too long, causing the meat to have very little taste, and giving an almost rubbery feeling when gnawing on it.

Our dressing was neither cornbread nor any other kind of bread, except for a few de-crusted slices of what the other townspeople called “Light Bread”. Daddy always sent ground beef and pork (in the proper portions, back to the house for the stuffing, which was shoved into his body. The seasoning included exactly the same ingredients as Mama’s meatballs: eggs, finely chopped garlic, grated Parmesan cheese, a few slices of crusted bread that was soaked in water, parsley, basil. It was heavy. Everything about that meal was heavy! But we all loved it and enjoyed it so much that it became adopted as our Christmas dinner the following month.

Instead of spaghetti, with the meatball dressing, there was always Pastina      (miniscule pasta) cooked in the broth, and usually with uninteresting Lettuce Salad (it was sometimes dressed up with celery and a few cut-up tomatoes) and of course the only lettuce you could buy this side of New Orleans, was the old-fashioned and tasteless Ice-Berg lettuce.

That left the door wide open for dessert. And, as I said, by my time, it was always Mince Meat Pie! I’m almost certain that Mama was not the instigator of this now hard-to-find dessert. My guess is that Anna found out about it during her Jr. College days, in what was known as the “Practice Home” (a glorified sort of period when the girls spent a week in a Home Economics environment, and wrote in neat and dainty script, all the recipes they learned to prepare.) These ranged from Welch Rarebit (better known as Rabbit) through Butterfly Salads, to banana and pineapple pudding and several other luscious desserts. For decades after her time at this Practice Home, Anna’s old spiral bound notebook, with her cramped (but highly legible script) could be found in the drawer of the little white kitchen table. And we all used it sooner or later!

At the time when we began the Mince Meat Pie fad, Daddy sold little pasteboard boxes of Mince Meat in the market. It was a very small box, and I believe it cost a quarter (which was rather a stiff price for such a small package in the 1930s.) I distinctly remember reading the directions, which told you to cut the contents of the package into small bits, adding some sort of liquid when placing it in a small pot, and then cooking it for fifteen minutes over medium heat, stirring constantly. I now have visions of watching Anna, adding all kinds of other ingredients (including a little red wine) more sugar, and so on. She then stood defiantly over the stove unit, usually stirring it with an old fashioned spatula (until I finally gave her a rotating mixer—not electric) with her jaw muscles looking as if they were going to snap in two, so hard was she coming down on them.

She then poured the hot mixture into a waiting pie shell, and after it was spread out, she weaved strips of pie dough giving the pie the looks of a sort of plaid material.

Occasionally, there would be requests for other types of pies, but there were secondary ones: only the Mince Meat was traditional. Quite often, particularly at Christmas, Daddy ordered a large number of Cannoli from Brocato’s Italian Delicaes shop in New Orleans. These were extremely difficult to make (as one after the other of our sisters learned the hard way) and back in the 30’s, they cost a dime each. How well I remember when the price soared to a quarter each! Daddy began talking about refusing to order any more. Last Sunday, I checked the price of a canola, at Brunos, where they turn out decent (but much smaller) canoli for $2.50 each. Like my Daddy, I passed them up. Mince meat is good enough for me.

Other Holiday cooking that was done at our house, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, were fruit cakes (Mama’s and Anna’s were hard to beat) using every sort of candied fruit that we sold in the Market: Pineapple and Cherries (red and green-both colors) citron, figs, orange and lemon peel, pecans.

Mama made several other Italian delicacies: my personal favorite were what she called Vomva-Reeki (or some such word). It was sort of like a Fig Newton, but with ground nuts added. Some of our relative’s version of this dessert, had a white glaze added to the exterior. But I always  preferred Mama’s plainer treat.

 

Draft Dodgers Anonymous

When we were finally got to our rightful training unit (Headquarters, First Infantry Division) it was late in the afternoon.

We were told to select a bed (army cots can be more wonderful than the most expensive mattress in the world!) and

to take a shower. And then we had our first meal there. This was all before we had the second most horrible

 experience of our young lives. We were told to stand at attention, in formation, where we saw this horrible

old Caprain who introduced himself as our as commanding officer, and the first thing he said, after that, was

“I need fifteen volunteers for K.P.”

I looked furtively as far as I could see without turning my head. There were, of course none, “OK, now,

everybody get into a good, comfortable lean rest position.” (Now there is an oxymoron, if ever I heard one!)

I had no idea what he was telling us to do, but decided to do as the others were doing: even Marcus! We basically

 reclined on the black top, face downward, balancing our body weight on the toes of our shoes. “The first fifteen men

who fall flat are on K. P. for the rest of today!”

I was hell bent on not being one  of this elite fifteen! As the entire platoon began to feel the strain on our poor,

unused bodies, the captain decided to ask questions about our education. Now, my ears perked up! Maybe he was

not as harsh as he had at first appeared!

“How many of you have some college education?” Along with most of the fellows, my hand went up. This,

of course, put more of a strain on the other arm that was not raised.

“How many of you have a college degree?” The number was not as large as the first question. But with,

“Have any of you had any graduate study?” I was one of about five who lifted my arm proudle.

. “Any graduate degrees?”  I was the only one.

     Meanwhile, he was walking among our bodies, which were spread out, but more and more of them had fallen already.

     “OK, you guys report to the kitchen for KP duty. And you will have to clean the grease trap, too. Now, the next

time I ask for volunteers, if I don’t get as many as I need, in the first five minutes, I’ll make your ass look just like a sody

cracker!” I shuddered involuntarily!

     I later found out that nobody had any idea what he had meant, but none of us had the slightest idea of finding out!

     Later, after he gave us an “At ease”, a far less pleasant looking HUGE fellow strode out and told us he was the

Quartermaster, and would be issuing, to each of us, our foot lockers, and our GI issued clothing. I thought, silently,

“Well. It’s about time!” I was getting tired of wearing only the clothes I had come here with, and they were far from

Clean!

        However, when he shoved that locker on my back, giving me an extra push downward, I felt as if my poor

Old back would surely break! But, by one of God’s minor miracle, I managed to make it into our “Home” and up

the stairs to the second floor, where Marcus and I had selected our bunks. He had said something about the fact that

everything must be S. O. P’ed. and always ready to pass inspection by our Cadre, but I was too intent on merely

getting my “gifts” up those last few steps. Then, I would worry.

        As I sat on the bunk to rest my weary body, I heard fellows all around me fussing. “How in the HELL do they

want us to get all this crap into that one lil’ ole locker!” I did not even have time to get worried. Suddenly, out of nowhere,

as it were, Lavon Hudson was standing before me, and saying some such heaven-sent words as, “I just thought I’d

come by to see if you might be needing any help about now,”

        I didn’t even have time to get panicky in the least! And he sat there, as I adoringly looked on as he took each pair

Jockey shorts, clean white Tee shirts, khaki pants and shirts. When I said that I did not see how we were expected to get

alll that junk into that one small wooden box, Lavon reminded me that we still had an upright closet to hand clothes in. Oh,

what a relief that was!

        I did get him to teach me how to get some of the items folded properly before he returned to his own room in the

Band School (where I assumed I would also end up).

        After he left, I undressed and went to bed, I was utterly exhausted! I wondered vaguely, if I would be able to survive

this next eight weeks! And I offered a prayer of thanks to God, for letting us escape from that sixteen week Tent Company!

I thought, without giving too much thought to it, how I would ever be able to sleep with all of the racket of all of those

Recruits’ fussing as they had to get their’s done with no guardian angel to help them; but I had no problem whatso-

ever!
(To be Continued)

 

WARLOCK!

Ed went into the Navy. Shortly after concluding his Music Theory Degree, with the University of South Alabama, and the next news I had from him was that he was playing his flute with the Navy Band! I have not mentioned that he took lessons from Dr. Jones (Music Dept. head the four years I was there) and naturally, Ed played circles around Jones. After his Navy experience ended, Ed spent some time in New York. I hope I am getting the sequence correct, because he went to so many different places, and usually did something altogether new, different, and (to me, anyhow) startlingly professional, that my poor old brain just recoils at attempting to get everything he did in his all-too-brief lifetime.

In checking with Dale Hudson, I learned something I had not known: he taught mathematics in Pensacola (his hated home town) between his first degree and his going to New York!

In New York, he did some music manuscript copying for any number of professional musicians; and I assure you, each page that I saw was so beautifully done, that I could hardly believe that a mere human being had done it! Somewhere in his travels, he picked up degrees in Library Science; moved to Utah, where he did mental battle with the Mormans.

   

Kitty Mew-sings

Thanks to those of you who liked “What Makes My Cat Purr” enough to tell me they enjoyed it. I seldom find one with which I am so closely attuned!

 

Movie Trivia Quiz #60

1.      Who was Shane, in the movie?

2.      What child actor from Member of the Wedding, said the line, “Come back, Shane!”

3.      Name the actress who was a frequent co-star to James Stewart, who played the boy’s mother in Shane.

4.      Who was the leading female in The Member of the Wedding?

5.      Gary Cooper won an Oscar for what 1952 Western?

6.      Who was his blonde wife in the film?

7.      For which film did she win an Oscar?

8.      Dial M for Murder was directed by what famous director? It starred the Oscar Winner from question 7.

9.      Who was her Oscar winning husband (who tries to murder her)?

10.  There is a third major star in this Broadway play to a movie. What was his name? (Hint: he was also in King’s Row with Ann Sheridan.)

 

Answers to “Color” Trivia Quiz

1.      Roddy McDowell was the lad in How Green was my Valley.

2.      Mia Farrow was The Purple Rose of Cairo.

3.      William Holden’s first big hit was Golden Boy.

4.      Robert Alda (Alan’s father) played George Gershwin in Rhapsody in Blue.

      5, Bette David was Miss Moffat in The Corn is Green.

        6. Vivian Leigh played Scarlet O’Hara in Gone with the Wind. And if you missed this, go and sit in the corner!

       7. The Lone Ranger’s horse was called “Silver”.

        8. Mollie Rindwald was Pretty in Pink.

       9. Hurd Hatfield was in The Picture of Dorian Gray?

       10. Anne Jeffreys was The Lady in Red in Dillinger.

 

FF XVIII, 35

Frank Facts and Reviews

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Volume XVIII, No. 35

Yesterday, when I asked Dale Hudson to see if USM’s penultimate game with UTEP was going to be on television, he read out of the Hattiesburg American that it was indeed on TV at 7:00. I decided to record it (on the off-chance that the Eagles might finally “Win one for the Gipper”) and actually watched it until it became evident that my team would go 0-12 for the first time ever. Once they got behind, I was going to bed. And furthermore, I planned to sleep! That’s how cynical I have become in this dreadful, winless season of football.

I watched the great beginning. On its first possession, USM marched with determination and a certain professionalism, down the field (in three plays) for their first TD. UTEP, who had the ball first, had gone 3 and out. Then USM went 3 and out, and UTEP had to settle for a Field Goal (making the score 7-3). USM managed a Field Goal, making it 10-3, and then things began getting ugly. I watched as UTEP tied the Eagles at 10. but when USM threw an interception that gave UTEP an easy 7 pointer on the very next two plays, I decided to put my weary bones to bed and see how it all turned out this morning. Around three A.M.. I had to go to the bathroom, so decided to get the agony over and done with. Poor Ellis Johnson. I was so in hopes that he would be able to get a win, for his seniors’ final home game at the “Rock”. Alas, irony of ironies, the final score was a win for the bad guys, by ONE point!

While I had been watching the first quarter, the announcers were certainly kind and considerate when discussing my team’s rotten year, especially in light of the fact that last year was THE best year they ever had (12 wins, counting the Conference Championship Game win over Houston (and it was a BIG win, too), and the lousy Hawaii Bowl. However, careless losses to the worst two teams in CUSA (UAB and Marshal) certainly did not endear Larry Fedora’s vanishing image to my mind.

I just pray that everybody who kept screaming to Giannini to get rid of that loser, Jeff Bower, is thrilled with their terrible price that dastardly deed cost USM!

 

Draft Dodgers Anonymous

Neither Marcus nor I had ever been on an airplane before. Neither of us had any desire whatsoever for the first time, either. But we had no choice! We had been sworn in that afternoon, of our second bus trip to Jackson, and would be flown to Columbia, South Carolina, where we would have our basic training and become fulltime soldiers. I felt a certain gnawing at my innards, each time I realized that I now belonged, body and soul, to Uncle Sam. This was really rather ironic when I considered that Daddy had been Uncle Sam to all of our cousins! But the very idea of flying in an airplane, chilled me to the bone!

Believe me, Marcus and I looked calm and sophisticated when I glanced around at the majority of the plane’s passengers! One really Rural boy looked very close to tears, or hysteria, or both. I kept tabs on him, and we were barely air-borne when he had to make use of his little upchuck bag like that was issued to each of us.

Marcus, as it turned out, was much better prepared for our “Ordeal” than I was. As soon as the plane began taxi-ing on the runway, he reached in a pocket and brought forth a package of Wrigley’s spearmint chewing gum. “Chew this. It’ll keep your ears from popping!”

I took it without saying a word. I was literally too scared to talk.

And then the miracle happened: everything brightened! I stopped being afraid, and flying seemed as wonderful as it actually is! What a way to get from one place to another, regardless of how far away it is!

And now, although I did not realize it at the time: this was an omen: everything about the Army (well, maybe not every thing- but certainly almost everything)- was really magical.  I have never enjoyed anything so much as  those next two years!

2. We arrived at Columbia’s airport in the dead of night. My memory is totally confused as to just what happened and in what sort of order. I remember nothing about the landing (other than that I was so scared the plane was going to burst into flames when we hit that concrete so hard, going so fast!) But, of course we didn’t. The next thing I remember is waking up in the middle of the night, not being able to remember where we were, or what we had done before climbing into those Army cots. All around me, I could hear the sounds of men sleeping: snoring and other weird noises that I would not believe that I was able to sleep through! But, somehow I had. And now I felt that I would stay awake for whatever remained of our first night at Fort Jackson. And then I was sound asleep once more.

My second awakening was thanks to Marcus; once again calling gently to me, “Francis---wake up!”

“Why?” All of a sudden I had felt like acting silly, as usual.

“Because  they said to!” was his smart-Alec answer.

I glanced ruefully at our surroundings: we were all in a huge room, and still in what is called the Reception Center. We were to be here over two weeks. By the time we were moved. I had expected us to be finished with our second week of basic training! Wrong!

 

That first day in the Reception Center, I felt that I needed a shower. Smells of the airplane kept assailing my nostrils, and mingled with the putrid odor of unwashed male bodies. Marcus agreed, so we set out in the brand new flip-flops we had both purchased for a buck a pair, before leaving Ellisville. We were already drenched, when a tall black man came into the shower, and said, “You guys can’t take a bath here!”

“Why not?” Marcus asked him.

“Because this here shower is for cadre only!”

I made a mental note to look this brand new word up the very first time I came in contact with my next dictionary.

How were we supposed to know that it means the instructors?

Since we already much cleaner than we had been, we put our clothes back on and left.

 

Now, for a backward glance to our last few days at home:

Marcus had this good friend at USM, whose father was my favorite salesman at Carter-Heide (mine and George’s favorite clothing store in Laurel). I have long since forgotten their family name, but Charles was the son’s. He had his own automobile, and came to my house, where Marcus and I were always together back then, it seems. When he heard that we would probably take our Basic Training at Ft. Jackson, he insisted on giving Marcus the phone number of his friend, who worked in Personnel at Fort Jackson. When I saw what he was doing, I thought it unlikely that we should ever need his help. But here, the miracle continued to keep us out of harm’s way.

When we were finally assigned to a basic training group, we were driven to the most frightening looking place I could imagine! Instead of barracks, this was what was referred to as a Tent Outfit! And when we stood at our first Assembly there, the drill sergeant’s opening words were, “Look around you, men. This will be your home for the next four months!”

I literally died! I had every reason to expect that our college educations intelligence would keep us from being wasted in a Tent group! Tears welled up in our eyes.

Then we were back in “Our Tent” and I saw that we were the only two white men in there! The others kept speaking the same words over and over. They were brand new to us! They all referred to their Mommies, but it was not a very complimentary referral. I said to Marcus, “This is what we will have to listen to for four months!”

“Oh, Francis: I just hope John does not forget about us!” (John was the buddy of Charles, who was supposed to keep his eyes peeled for our names).

Mama always said, “It’s always darkest before the dawn!” and that blazing afternoon in South Carolina, this was certainly the case.

All at once, the loud speaker screamed out at us, “Imbragulio,” impeccably pronounced, which was in itself a minor miracle,” and Jordan, come immediately to the Orderly Room!” Then the message was repeated. We looked at each other: and then we began running to the Orderly Room!

There had been a mistake, we were informed. They had brought is to the wrong unit, and we were to be taken to Service Company immediately.

Never have I felt more sheer relief and joy! A Jeep came for us, and as we traveled the route to our new “Home”, we were both thrilled to see the beautiful unit (trust me: to us it was like exchanging Paradise for Hades) with its green lawn starting low, around the Band School (where our good friend, Dale Hudson was an instructor) and traveling all the way up a hill, to row after row of other barracks.

We were shown into what was to be out barracks, and told to put our duffle bags (which held all we were allowed to have at this time) and shower, if we liked (we liked) and to stand by for our first “Inspection”.

That very night, John came by to tell us what had saved us: He had been checking the assignment of new basic trainees, and had NO trouble finding MY name (it did have definite advantages in the military!); and when he saw that Jim Gibbons (a student we both knew and thought was our friend, from the High School in Ellisville) had deliberately put us into the toughest training unit he could find. He did this out of sheer spite! He said he had been “Screwed” by being sent to a 16 week cycle, rather than an 8 week one, and if he had to endure it, so would he!

Well, all I can say is, “Thank God for new friends over old and dubious ones!

(To be continued)

 

WARLOCK!

Ed’s patio was truly a minor work of art. I was so proud of it that I even tried to cook something on the grill. Whatever it was, we were never able to eat anything cooked on that quaint bonfire. This little mattered to me. I never liked cooking outdoors, and never really enjoyed the many “Sunrise Breakfasts” to which Anna and Helen were always insisting we accompany them on. I always enjoyed the breakfasts after the meal was ready to be wolfed down—it was just the obvious stupidity (as I called it) wagging charcoal and lighter-knots all that distance, when they could have used our handy electric stove.

   

      Kitty Mew-sings

      “ What makes my cat purr?

      What starts that motor she has inside?

          Is it the dish of warm milk I give her to drink…the catnip mouse she bats and tosses into the air…the lap she curls up in…or father’s favorite chair? Does she purr because she has a ball of yarn to tangle…a pencil to roll…or paper to tear into a million shreds? Is it because she can wash a patch of sunshine on the living room rug…or sleep  s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d out along the top of the garden wall?  Maybe she purrs because she has a fence to sharpen her claws on…flowers to smell, butterflies to chase, and trees to climb.

Could she purr because she has so many places to hide? Under beds…in boxes,,,and bags…and bushes.

What makes my cat purr? Is it watching the goldfish in the bowl...rolling on the soft green grass…stalking bugs along the brick wall…or pouncing on hands and weeding the garden?

Perhaps my cat purrs because she likes me to rub her ears, and brush her back.

Why does my cat purr? Is it because she knows that she’s ever so beautiful…and that I love her?”

Ann Tompert

 

 

Movie Trivia Quiz #59

Color by Deluxe

1.     Who was the lad in How Green was my Valley?

2.     Who was The Purple Rose of Cairo?

3.     What actor’s first big hit was Golden Boy?

4.     Who played George Gershwin in Rhapsody in Blue?

      5, Who was Miss Moffat in The Corn is Green?

       6. Who played Scarlet O’Hara in Gone with the Wind?

       7. Whose horse was called “Silver”?

        8. Which “Brat Pack” Female was Pretty in Pink?

       9. What actor was in The Picture of Dorian Gray?

       10. Who was The Lady in Red in Dillinger?

 

Answers to Last Week’s Quiz

1.     Clara Schumann- Katherine Hepburn

2.     Dr. Doolittle-Rex Harrison

3.     Marie Curie-Greer Garson

4.     Lon Chaney, Sr.-James Cagney

5.     Henry VIII, in Young Bess Charles Laughton

6.     Elizabeth I, in The PrivateLives of Elizabeth and Essex Bette Davis

7.     Queen Victoria in The Mudlark Irene Dunne

8.     Queen Christina in the film of the same name Greta Garbo

9.     Edison in Edison, the Man Spencer Tracy

10. FDR in Sunrise at Campobello (Extra credit if you can name his Eleanor) Ralph Bellamy and Greer Garson

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, November 19, 2012