{"id":3557,"date":"2023-02-19T07:35:09","date_gmt":"2023-02-19T12:35:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.tubridy.net\/newblog\/?page_id=3557"},"modified":"2026-02-23T16:36:54","modified_gmt":"2026-02-23T21:36:54","slug":"growing-up","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.tubridy.net\/newblog\/growing-up\/","title":{"rendered":"Growing Up"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Freedom 7 Elementary School circa 1962<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

New Mexico<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

My father, Edward ‘Ed’ Horton Tubridy, was a pioneer in the space program. He started in the early 50s as a second lieutenant in the Air Force stationed at White Sands Missile Range. He was a steely-eyed spaceman! Hollomon Air Force Base and Alamogordo were at the south end of White Sands. <\/p>\n\n\n

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Momentos of Dad’s time in the space program<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Five years earlier, the first atomic bomb was detonated at the Trinity Site in the northern part of White Sands. A bit further north is Los Alamos – the birthplace of this fantastic device.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Hand in hand with the development of the atomic bomb was the development of rockets\u2014the perfect way to deliver these nasty bombs without getting any on you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Germans led rocket development. At the end of World War II, the US government had brought some of the unused V2 rockets the Germans launched during the war – plus a bunch of the German scientists and engineers that made it possible – to Holloman Air Force Base and a sleepy little railroad town Alamogordo. It was called Operation Paperclip<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Alamogordo Water Tank<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Dad’s job as a second lieutenant in the Air Force was to test these rockets. They would launch them north from Holloman into the test range. Dad would help find them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Trinitite from Trinity Site in New Mexico. My father collected this when he was stationed at Holloman AFB in the early 1950s.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

On one of these trips, he arrived at the Trinity Site and collected some Trinitite. Trinitite, or Atomsite or Alamogordo glass, is the glassy residue left on the desert floor after the plutonium-based Trinity nuclear bomb test. He used to keep it in his sock drawer. As a child, I would bring it out and look at it occasionally.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Arco – First Atomic-Powered City<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Later on, atomic energy would lead me very briefly into nuclear engineering. Who would have known? Maybe it was in my DNA. Or irradiated!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Dad in Ohio<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

He left the service after two short years and immediately started working for Goodyear Aircraft<\/a>. Goodyear had gotten into the aircraft business in the 1920s, building blimps. He lived in Dayton, Ohio, for a while, but ultimately, his job would return him to White Sands. He would return to test the Matador Rocket, a cruise missile type of rocket that somehow employed Goodyear technology.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Glamour shot about 1950<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

At the same time, he met my mother, Betty Kovac. My grandfather was a mining Engineer in West Virginia. My mother’s brother-in-law, Edward Shaw, was the superintendent at that mine. Shaw invited my grandfather and father to watch a World Series baseball game on their new television. This was in 1953. They got married on July 31, 1954. I was born one year and one week later. After getting married, my mother moved to Alamogordo, where I was born.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Easter 1956 – Notice the adobe houses<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Alamogordo was an old railroad town now home to scientists and engineers worldwide. Later, when I was working for Hewlett-Packard, I met the only other person born there\u2014a German whose father was part of Operation Paperclip. Dad’s career with Goodyear did not last long before he switched employers to General Dynamics. This would set the course for the rest of his professional life.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Mom with Eddie in 1956<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

San Diego<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

When my Dad took a new job, we moved from Alamogordo to San Diego, California. General Dynamics had recently purchased Convair. Convair\u2019s Atlas rocket was initially developed in 1957 as an ICBM for the U.S. Air Force. The Atlas rocket transitioned into a civilian launch vehicle and was used for the first orbital manned U.S. space flights during Project Mercury in 1962 and 1963. They were built in San Diego but launched from Cape Canaveral.<\/p>\n\n\n

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San Diego<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

My brother Rick was born while we lived in San Diego. From what I remember hearing, we could see the ocean from our house, and a lemon tree was in the backyard. I was fond of eating the lemons that had fallen off the tree. We also had birds when I was younger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cocoa Beach<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Rockets<\/em><\/strong> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In early 1958, we moved from San Diego to the little town of Cocoa Beach, Florida. Cocoa Beach was just south of Cape Canaveral. The United States government has used the Cape Canaveral Air Force Station since 1949 when President Harry S. Truman established the Joint Long Range Proving Grounds at Cape Canaveral to test missiles. The location was among the best in the continental United States for this purpose as it allowed for launches out over the Atlantic Ocean, and it was closer to the equator than most other parts of the United States, allowing rockets to get a boost from the Earth’s rotation.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Bumper 8: July 24, 1950, First rocket launch from Cape Canaveral<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

As the space program ramped up, thousands of highly skilled workers were relocated to Cocoa Beach and nearby towns such as Titusville and Merritt Island. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Historically, the first non-native settlement in the area was by a family of formerly enslaved people following the American Civil War. In 1888, a group of men from Cocoa bought the entire tract of land, which went undeveloped until it was bought out in 1923 by a member of the group\u2014Gus Edwards, Cocoa’s city attorney. In 1922, a wooden bridge was opened connecting Cocoa Beach to Merritt Island.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Cocoa Beach March 1926. The Casino located at the end of what is now Minuteman Causeway is seen in the upper left. It was eventually turned into a hotel and suffered serious damage in a storm in the 1920s.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Previously known as Oceanus, Cocoa Beach was established on June 5, 1925, with Gus Edwards as its first mayor. During the late 1930s, the Naval Air Station Banana River was established to support the impending war. What is now known as A1A was built in the 1930s. The 520 Causeway replaced the wooden bridge in the early 1940s. During the war itself, German submarines patrolled the waters and frequently sank ships. Consequently, Cocoa Beach was subject to a nightly blackout. <\/p>\n\n\n

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A brochure from the 1930s showcases Homes in Cocoa Beach. Snug Harbor, situated south of the original wooden bridge, exudes a distinctively different ambiance compared to the heart of town, where the Casino and Hotel once stood.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

After the war, the station was briefly shut down until 1949, when it was reactivated as Patrick Air Force Base. Its mission was to support the activities related to launching rockets from Cape Canaveral Air Force Station. In the early 1950s, the city prepared to accommodate the individuals involved in missile launches. This involved significant development of land, roads, water, and sewer systems.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Cocoa Beach, April 1956. bridge connecting Merritt Island was constructed in 1922. The road, named Cocoa Avenue, is visible in the upper middle of the photograph. Our residence stood just north of this road, situated on a finger canal that was dredged shortly after this picture was captured.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Dredges were brought to do this, and \u2018finger canals\u2019 were created. The dredged-up sand was then used to build the new houses. Most of the new homes that were built backed up onto canals. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Convair Cove<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 1957, Mom & Dad bought a three-bedroom house on a canal at the end of one of the streets \u2015 Blakey Boulevard \u2015 in a sub-division called Convair Cove<\/em> for the company whose workers lived there. Blakey was a big wig at Convair at the time!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Cocoa Beach looking south. Finger canals were dredged, giving almost everyone a waterfront lot! The Thousand Islands on the right are remnants of a hurricane many years ago that created an inlet where Cocoa Beach is today.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Our house was at the mouth of one of these canals and overlooked the Thousand Islands. The Thousand Islands are a group of natural, modified, and ‘spoils’ islands in the Banana River Lagoon, Cocoa Beach, in Brevard County, Florida. Spoil islands are created by dredging.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the late 1950s, many narrow channels were dredged in the islands. This helped to control the mosquito population by draining standing water and allowing the fish to eat the larvae before they hatch. For us growing up, it meant lots of ways to explore in our boats!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Convair Cove about 1963<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The photo above shows our house across the canal at the end of the two roads. It has our sailboat in the back. If you zoom in on our house, you can see us in the side yard. Off the picture to the right are the Thousand Islands. The big house with the screened porch belonged to McNabb, who was in charge of Convair’s operations at the cape. I recently discovered that the original plan could have been to have the canal on 4th Street, which explains the mystery of the dead end road on the corner of our lot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They eventually built homes on the vacant lots to the right of our house. McNabb Park is at the far end. My friend John and I got a drawing of our proposal for the park in the local paper. Needless to say, it was a little more elaborate than what was built. It was built on the site the original sewer used to sit on before they moved to the end of Minuteman Causeway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad was frequently in Cocoa Beach even before they moved here. He was involved in the early Atlas launches. He told my brother Rick they would fly from out west in military planes to Havanna for some R&R before coming to the Cape!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There were many failures in the beginning. I remember, as a young child, watching one blow up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Crew\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
The Convair team at Pad 14 working on an early Atlas launch<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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Clan Tubridy<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

My brother Dave was born in 1959. My first solid memory was looking at him lying in his crib after arriving home from the hospital. I learned later that Mom had a miscarriage before Dave was born. That’s why he was a bit further apart in age than my brother Rick and me. Mom was working hard to be a good Catholic!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Early days at Blakey<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Sometime after Dave’s birth, Mom was hospitalized for what I believe would be called Postpartum Depression today. I remember visiting her there. When she came home, everything changed between my parents. She began seeing a Freudian Psychiatrist who convinced her IMHO that the church was one of the roots of her problems. Boy, howdy that that changes everything!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Very young Rick, Dad, and I at the beach in the late 1950s<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Dad took an interest in boating right away. We had a small sailboat when we first moved to Cocoa Beach. At one point, Dad and his friends got together and built motorboats. I remember my mom and dad water skiing behind the motorboat at a young age.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Rick and I with our motorboat that he built in the garage. It’s the only powerboat Dad ever owned!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The motorboat was soon replaced by a bigger sailboat, Argo. Dad started racing the boat at Patrick Air Force Base, just south of Cocoa Beach and further south in Melbourne.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Captain Eddie is steering Argo with cousin Sandra, Mom, and my brothers.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

When I was around age 6 or 7, I fondly remember taking the sailboat out overnight to race the next day. We would have breakfast out of those little cereal boxes you could open up with a knife and use as a bowl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Dad sailing Argo in the early 1960s<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I also remember Dad reading us tales from Greek Mythology \u2013 particularly the story of Jason and the Argonauts, after which the sailboat was named. However, I was not particularly fond of sailing when I was young. I constantly feared that the boat would tip over and found it boring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Growing up in Cocoa Beach was interesting. First, I lived in a place most of the US considered a vacation spot. <\/p>\n\n\n

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We would take our out-of-town visitors to see the nearby roadside attractions. Here we are in the front row at nearby Florid Wonderland. These all disappeared after Disney arrived!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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In the early days, you could drive on the beach. We spent hours there \u2013 a real treat was on Sunday afternoon when we would go to Fourth Street South and grill hamburgers and eat Mom\u2019s potato salad. Once, we parked on the beach only to return later and find it in the surf!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Painting of Cocoa Beach in the 1960s by Chrystal Jackson. She was one of several artists commissioned to capture this unique historical time.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
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Growing Up With Rockets<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Second \u2013 of course \u2013 was the space program. After President Kennedy declared that we would land on the moon by the end of the decade, Cocoa Beach exploded with families moving into the area, nightclubs where the space workers could blow off steam on the weekends, and regular parades featuring the astronauts. <\/p>\n\n\n

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This movie was made by a woman who was my friend Bill’s girlfriend for a while. Her father was a very eccentric, steely-eyed rocket man. It talks about how we would march single file to the beach to watch the launches. Simply Wow! <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

In Elementary School, we walked single file down to the beach, watched the spots, and returned to class. I remember watching the launches \u2013 the coolest were the couple of times they had to destroy the rocket \u2013 once at night watching it blow up. Awesome!<\/p>\n\n\n

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John Glenn, Annie Glenn, and Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson ride in a parade through Cocoa Beach, Florida, celebrating Glenn’s Friendship 7 space flight, February 23, 1962<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Cocoa Beach got the reputation for being a \u2018sin city’ as the Cape workers let off steam at the many bars and nightclubs up and down A1A in Cape Canaveral and Cocoa Beach. The Carnival Club near 520 had a famous pink elephant with sunglasses! Cocoa Beach still has a \u2018gentleman\u2019s club’ in the middle of downtown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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My Brush With Death<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Site of our car accident in 1962<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

One rainy winter afternoon in early 1962, my brothers and I were coming home with Mom from some forgotten activity. It was rush hour and raining hard. Mom pulled right out in front of another car crossing Orlando at 3rd Street North, only several blocks from home. Sitting in the passenger seat, I took the brunt of the impact. Our car was pushed into our mailman’s car parked outside the dinner that has always been there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I woke up, I remember very vividly looking around the car. Mom was slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding from her head. My brother Rick in the backseat was nowhere to be found (he had slipped into the wheel well and cut his hand badly). Finally, I turned behind me at my brother Dave. He was sitting in the seat, eyes as big as saucers, as if nothing happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The doctor on our street was on the scene and told them I was severely hurt. I remember sitting on the lap of one of the medics as they took me to the newly opened hospital about a mile away. I remember telling him I was thirsty. It turns out I was bleeding internally from the impact of the car hitting me (through the door).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the hospital, they quickly got me into surgery. I vividly remember the mask coming down over my head and them telling me to count backward from 100. The next thing I knew, I woke up in my hospital bed and threw up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stayed in the hospital for a while before coming home. I remember they had a party for me at School before I returned some weeks later. I found out later in life how close I had come to bleeding out that evening. I was fortunate the hospital was so close. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Eddie Goes To School<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I went to kindergarten at Royalton and then to Cocoa Beach Elementary School. After they built the new high School, it was renamed Freedom 7 Elementary School in honor of the Mercury-Redstone 3, or Freedom 7, the first United States human spaceflight, which was launched on 5 May 1961 by astronaut Alan Shepard. I remember that a US flag carried into space during the launch was displayed in the cafeteria.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Cold War: How I Learned to Love the Bomb \ud83d\udca3<\/summary>\n
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It was the Cold War! I had no idea until much later in life how I grew up in the crosshairs of the events of the early 1960s. Being so close to Cuba during the Cuban Missle Crisis meant that Cape Canaveral would have been an excellent target for the Russian Missles being launched from Cuba. We would practice drills, including getting under our desks in case of an attack. I remember thinking, “What good would it be to be under my desk if a nuke landed on us?” Those are heady thoughts for a 7-year-old. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I also keenly remember the day Kennedy was assassinated. I started at the PA speaker high up on the wall next to the clock. It was telling everyone what happened. I thought to myself, “What did it mean?” The little girl beside me put her head on the desk and started crying.<\/p>\n<\/details>\n\n\n\n

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I remember being fascinated by Dad’s briefcase. It was the first thing I bought many years later when I had my first job!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
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Saftey Patrol and the Meaning of Life<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n

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My dream of being in Saftey Patrol<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

My goal early in elementary school was to become a member of the saftey patrol! The sash you got to wear was so cool! But more importantly, the other kids would have to do waht you said! Ha! They mostly just ignored me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One day, while I was standing at the corner of Brevard and Minuteman, helping the kids cross the street, I suddenly had a thought. I realized that in the year 2000, I would be 45 years old!<\/strong> This thought became a constant in my mind from then on. I now understand that it was my first true realization of my mortality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Growing up, my two buddies at an early age were two older boys \u2013 John McCary and Rudy Wells. John\u2019s Dad was a lawyer, and Rudy\u2019s Dad was a doctor; both were prominent in the community. Rudy had a pool that we would spend hours in. John would go on later to become a flamboyant character, most noted for getting expelled from School in his senior year in high school for carrying a purse. He was also the class president!<\/p>\n\n\n

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My childhood friends John McCary and Rudy Wells<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Our house was a short boat ride – or swim – from the Thousand Islands. We spent much time in the lagoon in our swim trunks and explored the islands. Mom told me many years later she was always worried she would find us face down in the water someday – I never knew! The city built an Olympic-sized swimming pool at the newly opened golf course at the end of Minuteman Causeway. We spent many summers there when I was in Elementary School. I loved to dive – especially on the high board \ud83d\ude02.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Thousand Islands ~ Indian River Lagoon. We used to waterski in this channel early in the morning after throwing our paper routes, but now it’s a no-wake zone for the Manatees.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

We had two dogs growing up. The first was a black Daschund named Pepper. He died pretty young from heartworms, a disease that mainly affected dogs in Florida due to the mosquitos. I don’t remember him.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Spot and the Gerbils<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Our second dog was a Beagle named Spot. He loved swimming to the islands and hunting rabbits or finding dead fish. He would roll in it until he stuck to high heaven! He reminded me of the dog in My Dog Skip – he wandered Cocoa Beach, and everybody knew him. After following us there, he would burst into one of our classrooms at school. We would have to keep him locked up in the janitor’s closet until it was time to go home. He had heartworms twice – the second time did him in at age 9 or 10.<\/p>\n\n\n

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I’m a freckle-face kid with big ears! Growing up, Dad used to make me get crew cuts. I hated it, finally told him no, and grew my hair long. It did wonders for our relationship \ud83e\udd23.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
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20,000 Leagues Under The Sea<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n

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At some point, when I was around 7 or 8, my teachers told my parents that I was having trouble seeing at School. Sure enough, I needed glasses!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly after getting the glasses, Mom took me to the old movie theater in Cocoa to see 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. I vividly remember watching the film in total awe\u2014I had no idea this was what the world could look like! I convinced myself I had superpowers and could see through walls!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Adventures in the Geek Universe<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad was always a DIY kind of guy. In addition to building the boat, Dad did many hands-on things like maintaining the cars, working on the house and boats, and tinkering with stuff. Dad could pretty much fix anything, and that wore off on me.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Erector set from the 1960s. I was fascinated by this kind of stuff growing up.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

At an early age, I would build stuff in the garage and work on the many bikes I had growing up. I was interested in technology \u2013 especially aircraft. I remember making my jet fighter cockpit using wood scraps from a nearby construction project. The masterpiece was the single toggle switch I mounted in the center next to all the gauges I had marked on the wood. I was also big into erector sets, Lincoln logs, chemistry sets, blowing us stuff with firecrackers, taking stuff apart, making stuff out of wood, and helping Dad fix things. Once, Mom drove the Buick we had with a broken oil pump and froze the engine. We rebuilt it in our garage without taking the engine out of the car! The bottom line is that I picked up this wonderful gift my father gave me and carried it on as I grew up interested in DIY, maintenance and repair, and woodworking.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Time Life books from the 1960s. I especially loved the one on Flight.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Dad was strict about homework and bedtime when we were growing up. We were not allowed to watch TV at night other than on the weekends. Instead, he would have me write reports. One of the many things I am glad he made me do. I enjoyed reading the encyclopedia and learning about stuff. I was fascinated by the natural world, science, engineering, and the military.<\/p>\n\n\n

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In the side yard at Blakey. I remember Dad teaching me to throw and catch. Once, the ball hit me in the face and cut my eyebrow badly.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I was not so interested in sports, but we did love to play baseball in the street! The Houston Astros’ spring camp was in Cocoa, and we would watch a game from time to time. I listened to their games late at night in my bed when the AM reception was good. Sometimes I would listen to other radio stations from places like Chicago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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My Troubled Childhood<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meanwhile, it was not a happy home at 489 Blakey Blvd. Mom and Dad had been at each other’s throats for some time now since her hospitalization.<\/p>\n\n\n

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We stopped going to church. Mom and Dad would argue, sometimes violently. I remember a hole in one of the doors where Dad threw something at her. She took his gun and threw it in the canal. Dad then enlisted our help to drag the bottom of the canal to find it. How fucked up is that? We came in from backyard camping to find a cop talking to them at the end of the hallway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Serious shit for a 4th grader to deal with. By the time I was in 6th grade, my father and teachers were calling me a fuck-up at a parent-teacher conference. No thought to what the fuck was happening behind closed doors. <\/em>I dealt with it by creating my world to live in. I certainly didn’t have much self-confidence or self-esteem. Later I discovered drugs, music, and the intellectual counter-culture – it became my teenage identity. It gave me the confidence I needed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually, things would mellow out some – at least they had established some truce. Dad began drinking more. Mom acted in a manner they used to call neurotically. They acted like they hated each other. They stayed together, though – sometimes I wonder how things would have been different for me if they had not. Hard to say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Eddie Becomes a Boy Scout<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was a Cub Scout in Elementary School. Mom was a den leader for a while, and then we moved up into Boy Scouts. I used to dread the campouts because of the bugs. We would sit up all night with mosquito coils burning, sweltering in the heat.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Mosquito Coil<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I did dig going to Boy Scout camp when I got older. For three or four years, I went to Camp La-No-Che<\/a>. I have fond memories of swimming and boating, doing crafts, and most significantly, the neophyte initiations where we would smear goo like peanut butter and toothpaste all over the initiates and parade them through the camp in their swimsuit (or was it underwear?).<\/p>\n\n\n

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\"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
I was in Cub Scouts, then Boy Scouts. I quit attending Junior High School because my interests in stuff like smoking pot and playing drums became more important \ud83e\udd29.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Our Boy Scout leader was Bob Walker – the coolest old guy I knew. Rode a BMW motorcycle and taught as a professor after a career at the cape. When I was going to camp, I also got interested in the drums \u2013 he nicknamed me \u2018Skins.\u2019 Our troop was the Wombats!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Rick, Bob Walker, Eddie, and nerdy neighbor Clifford Self<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
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Introducing My Demon<\/em><\/strong>s<\/p>\n\n\n

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My Demon \ud83d\udc79<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Another thing happened to me at summer camp when I was 13 years old. I was introduced to my demon \ud83d\udc79. One of the older boys had a bottle of Boone’s Farm wine. We drank it one night. My head was spinning, but the effect would become an obsession later. It seems like it was in my DNA.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Around the same time, I also discovered Marijuana. I always liked the feeling getting high gave me- it was unlike the poisoning effect of the booze on your body. I might get the headache or the munchies, but that was about the worst of it. It was always my drug of choice – just like David Crosby. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I remember hearing an NPR interview with him once after he turned his life around after being thrown in prison. He said that Marijuana was his drug of choice and that throughout humanity’s existence, there were always drugs. Mystics would eat mushrooms and peyote to commune with God. People have been smoking hash for millennia. Cavemen would sit around the fire drinking fermented plant juice and forget about the fact they might be killed by a tiger the next day. They got drunk and invented music to scare those nasty fuckers away. Made some weird sense to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n
Living with the Demons \ud83d\udc79<\/summary>\n
<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Opening Act<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That fateful night at Camp Lanoochee set in motion a path that would lead to rehab twice now in my years on Mother Earth.<\/p>\n\n\n

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The second drink I remember was one of Dad’s Old Milwaukee<\/em> beers. I hid one in the bottom of Mom’s overstuffed refrigerator until I was sure Dad didn’t miss it, which set in motion devious behavior to get that drink. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meanwhile, Dad indulges in his own Demon more and more. I used to steal ‘slugs’ from his gin bottles before leaving on a Saturday night. If he knew, he would hide the bottle somewhere else. Amazing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once in high school, we participated in the time-honored tradition of asking someone that was older to buy beer for us. It was always Colt 45 because of the higher alcohol content. We exercised all our nightly brainpower to get the stuff!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Super-charged Demon<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I remember one Saturday night, managing to get my very own fucking 12-pack of beer. My goal was to drink the whole 12-pack that night. I have no clue if I did. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At senior prom, I got the guy who managed our paper routes to buy me a bottle of Southern Comfort. I vaguely remember trying to drive the car into the canal. And having the teachers serve us breakfast at the Methodist Church. Un-fucking-believable. <\/p>\n\n\n

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After graduation, I worked at Shakey’s Pizza Parlor on the 520 Causeway. As chance had it, that summer, the drinking age in Florida dropped to 18. The logic was all tied up in the fucking Vietnam War and was repealed quickly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But for that brief moment of time, I could legally drink and serve alcohol. The place was managed by a real-life Cougar on her third husband. She let us have our own keg in the back. 25-cent beers for the staff. Fucking unbelievable, no?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the next two years, I got drunk every night, and when I wasn’t drunk, I was stoned and or had some magic mushroom tea. Life was fuzzy but good!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Towards the end of this joy ride, I was freaked out one day when my view of the world radically changed. I was ready to move to California. I had moved back in with my parents and was ready to graduate from Community College. I later learned the symptoms were classic anxiety disorder. As I thought back to the massive change I was about to undertake. It makes sense<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The result was I cut way back on drinking and smoking pot. I did not pick it back up again until after I started college in California. I had several doctors look at me – I had also developed terrible hay fever after moving to California. I had my eyes checked and discovered I also had what are called floaters. It was the first (but not last) time I subjected my body to such an emotional shock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After adjusting to my new life, it gradually became less problematic. Life was really pretty good. I was doing well in school and felt I had found my true calling as a Mechanical Engineer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shock The Monkey<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I got closer to graduation, I remember I started drinking more. Then I met my first wife. What happened next was another pattern for my life, which always included a trip to the dark, murky bottom. I grabbed onto her like a dying man graphing for his last breath. We got married the summer after we graduated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We traveled around the US before getting married. I think she was surprised at my behavior when I returned home and drank and smoked pot. We finished the trip and stayed with her parents before moving to Seattle. I would be going to graduate school while she started her first job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I slept in the living room on the couch before we got married. Her father had a small supply of liquor in one of the cabinets. After everyone was in bed, I would chug some booze like I did with my Dad’s gin. This time, however, to calm me down and help me pass out. This was when it started:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cravings 101<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Craving is a phenomenon unlike any other. I discovered that the feeling I got after the first couple of chugs\u2014a warm, numbing sensation\u2014gave me an unbelievably good feeling like I was King Of The World. It was short-lived, however, and after that, I would chase the feeling until I passed out. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is what cravings do to the alcoholic – wired differently than others, it seems. When a ‘normie’ drinks, they start to feel bad and quit. No, us drunks, the more, the merrier until we shit ourselves, kill somebody driving or create unbelievable emotional turmoil for ourselves and all the others close to us. Most of the time, we just pass out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After about 6 years of this, I was pulled over one early morning in the Fall of 1985 after getting a divorce earlier that Summer. I was driving across a bridge at over 100 mph wasted. They pulled me over, tested me, and sent me home. I pleased ‘no contest,’ and they told me if I successfully completed two years of treatment, it would not appear on my record. I was in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rehab<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here’s what I learned in rehab that made a huge impact on me:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \n
  • 1. I wasn’t a bad person; I was a sick person.<\/li>\n\n\n\n
  • 2. The metabolic effects of alcohol (or any other drug) were different for the alcoholic because of genetics.<\/li>\n\n\n\n
  • 3. It was OK to ask for help.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n

    I tried AA but ended up being repulsed by it. I just stopped drinking because I didn’t want to get back to the way it was. And besides, by that point, I was literally at the peak of my career. The judge agreed to allow me to move to Germany before the two years were up. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I quit drinking, and life was good again. Duh!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I managed to be a dry drunk for about 17 years the first time. More emotional turmoil and a second failed marriage to an alcoholic-in-training led to a relapse and back to rehab for the second time. I tried the high-power AA route this time but never bought into it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Here’s what I learned in rehab the second time:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      \n
    1. 1. I was prone to co-dependent relationships<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    2. 2. I had not been sober for the past 17 years – I was just a dry drunk.<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    3. 3. Why not try and believe in a Power Greater Than Myself?<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n\n\n\n

      I met my third wife in rehab, and we clung to each other for dear life. We went to AA meetings every day. She couldn’t stay sober, and neither could I. The third time, I eventually convinced myself to just say no to booze and smoke as much pot as possible. I went to Alan-Anon and learned about how someone else’s alcoholism (like my Dad’s) affected me. I divorced my psycho third wife after she succumbed to alcoholic encephalopathy and went nuts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Epilog<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      I finally realized I was basically incompatible with pretty much everyone around me. The last fling at AA did help me understand that I was the only person responsible for my actions and to avoid trouble and reduce my emotional footprint on others. I also found a smug sense of superiority casting off the trapping of cult behavior, whether it be AA or the fucking Catholic Church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      So today, I am proudly California Sober. Or on the Marijuana Maintenance Program. Booze is poison to me; I am allergic to it. Everybody is to some degree. The addiction counselor I worked with said every fucking person could become one. It depends on how many drinks you have until you reach the point of no return. Unwilling to test that again, but as they say in AA:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      If you don’t remember your last drink, you probably haven’t had it.<\/p>AA Wisdom<\/cite><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

      <\/div>\n\n\n\n

      I prefer to think of it as a hand grenade. When you start drinking, you basically pull the pin out of the hand grenade. It will inevitably be got off, and you’re fucked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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      <\/div>\n<\/details>\n\n\n\n
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      My Passions<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      When I was in Junior High, my Mom decided that Rick & I needed to learn how to play an instrument. We went down to a music shop that used to be near Ann Lea Gift Shop. The guy asked me what I wanted to play, and I enthusiastically said, \u201cThe Drums.\u201d He then told my Mom that the drums were not a good instrument because you can\u2019t play them yourself (what?).<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"First\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      The first set of drums \ud83d\ude0e<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      So I learned to play the guitar \u2013 maybe two lessons before I quit. In maybe 8th grade, I bugged my parents to buy a set of drums from the Sears catalog! Yes, the Sears catalog back then was used to sell drums! <\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      Ad for Sears drums<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      I got them for Christmas and ruined the cymbals within several hours of playing them! But the drums held up, and it started my short-lived career as a rock \u2018n roll drummer!<\/p>\n\n\n

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      Eddie, some guy, Jimmy, Bill Wamsley, Marc – the Original Garage Band! In the garage at our house one night when Mom & Dad were gone!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      At about the same time, I made friends with a guy from school who had a little speedboat. His name was Bill, and he taught me how to water ski. I learned to ski on one ski from the beginning and only a few times did it with two \ud83d\ude0e. I also had started delivering papers – back in the day of paperboys with bicycles! We would deliver our papers, head out in the boat for some early morning waterskiing, and then go to school.<\/p>\n\n\n

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      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      1968 Cessna 172. We would fly from Merrit Island Airport all over Florida and make some trips out of state.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      When I started attending Junior High, my dad learned to fly. For the next three years or so, we did a lot of flying and took several trips with the family \u2013 once to visit my grandmother and other relatives up north and once across the water to the Bahamas. I enjoyed doing it and thought about getting a glider pilot license when Dad stopped flying abruptly. He was diagnosed with diabetes and grounded until he could get medical clearance. Even though he controlled it, he never returned to flying after that.<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      The three boys at the airport in the Bahamas<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      I fondly remember several trips where he and I would fly several hours to an airport somewhere in Florida, eat lunch, and fly home. Or the time I went with him when he did a night flight with an instructor. Although I never did learn to fly, I did a couple of years at Boeing after graduate school and did a lot of flight testing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      When I was old enough to get a job, I did. I was a paperboy twice. The first time was a disaster as I had the worst route in town and found it hard to get people to pay. It paid off, though, because when the time came, I took over a very desirable route – the north side of Minuteman Causeway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      I got my first bicycle at an early age. My Dad had a friend, Ash Huff, the first ten-speed bike rider I ever met. He had the gear ratios taped onto his handlebars. I mean, how fucking cool was that? He was my hero!<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"
      A Classic English Racer from the 1960s. It had a three-speed hub and hand brakes. <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      My first cool bike was an English Racer, it only had three gears, but I thought it was the shit! My next bicycle was a heavy bike with large tires and huge baskets on the front and back. I would load them up with papers when I delivered the route.<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
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      Vintage 1972 Schwinn Continental 10-Speed<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      At some point in time, I bought my first ten-speed bike. It was a Yellow Schwinn Continental <\/em>ten-speed. I loved that bike and took it on road trips with my friends. The longest trip was 100 miles to the Ocala National Forrest in my junior high school. Like Ash Huff, I had the gear ratios taped to my handlebars. Someone stole it at school one day.<\/p>\n\n\n

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      My Kung Foo outfit \ud83e\udd23. I was into Bruce Lee and had a pair of homemade nunchucks.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      Towards the end of junior high, I discovered (in no particular order) music and marijuana. My buddy Bill got me high the first time in the woods that used to be next to the elementary School on the water. <\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      Proto-heavy metal band Blue Cheer<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      I was high for a week. I had bought some oddball albums at an earlier age (for example, the themes to the James Bond movies), but I bought my first LP album, Vincebus Eruptum, in 1968 by Blue Cheer. Since then, it has been heralded as the first \u2018Heavy Metal\u2019 band. With my drumming, I had found the three perfect ingredients for my teenage years.<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      My original Sears drum was set in my parents’ backyard between 9th and 10th grade.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      Around the same time, I started hanging out with neighborhood kids interested in music. We formed a band and called ourselves the Dead Peach. Through the end of high school, we played together either jamming or in our senior year as members of the high school jazz band. We had a ‘studio’ at an old motel on the beach – Terrace Dunes – where we would jam on weekends. <\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      Dark Star – Slight Redux<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      Our names changed from Second Childhood<\/em> (my favorite) to Dark Star<\/em> (also excellent). We had many different friends drop in and out over that time, but it was the center of my teen years.<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      Robin, Eddie, Marc & Peter jam at Marc’s house.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      At first, I was primarily interested in rock music. Like many of my generation, I cut my teeth on Hendrix, The Beatles, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Cream, the Allman Brothers, Steppenwolf, Alice Cooper, Frank Zappa, and anybody else who played at Woodstock. I remember that, in 1969, I was dressed in my flowery shirt and bell-bottom pants, wishing I could be there. <\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      11th Grade. It was a constant fight with my Dad to let my hair grow long.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n
      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      This photo of our Pollution Fighters Club is from the 1971-72 Yearbook. All the guys I used to hang out with are in it: Jim Stasack, Robin Turner, Peter Dezendorf, Joe Smith, Marc Baldini, Bill Zweigbaum, John McCarey, and Don Bashford.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n
      \n
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      You can see the top of my ‘Mickey Rat’ T-shirt I wore pretty much every day in 11th grade. I was a loyal reader of National Lampoon and ordered the shirt from an ad in one of the issues!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n
      \n
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      I wore this t-shirt my entire 11th grade!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      In high school, my musical tastes started to expand, and in my senior year, we were asked to join the stage band as the rhythm section. (I later discovered it was because the guys they wanted declined \ud83e\udd23). I became interested in Jazz and jazz-influenced rock \u2013 soon to be coined (Jazz Rock) Fusion. Artists like Miles Davis, Mahavishnu Orchestra, and Chick Corea. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Our stage band did a lot of Maynard Ferguson and Chicago. I remember seeing the Count Basie Orchestra play live and was blown away by how good they were. I was absolutely gob-smacked at what Zappa was doing with the Grand Wazoo stuff. The feather in my high school band is when our band (called Dark Star by that point) won the senior high school talent contest for an Allman Brothers cover.<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      Cocoa Beach High School Stange Band 1972-73 school year<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      I tried surfing for a while until I about drowned trying to surf in a hurricane! I became interested in building electronics and lighting equipment for our band. I tried building an amplifier based on a Heathkit design. I even made my own printed circuit board! Unfortunately, it only worked briefly before shorting out! And that was after my friend Bill’s father had some Cape engineers work on it \ud83e\udd23. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

      I started dating Holly, a girl I had had a crush on for several years. We used to make out on her parent’s couch after School! Little did I know how she would shape my life later on!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Medicated Goo – My First Love \ud83d\udc9b<\/summary>\n
      <\/div>\n\n\n\n

      I first met Holly in 8th grade. We were in some class together, and I remember being admitted by her. I used to plagiarize Jim Morrison’s lyrics and give them to her as poems. I remember getting up the nerve to call her once. All I remember is that we talked about Gilligan’s Island.<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
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      One Pill makes you taller…<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      We met up again in high school. I can’t remember the circumstances, but I remember hanging out with her at a football game. She was hanging around with some older girl. We went to her car and talked about who knows what. All I remember is that she had a contact cold medicine capsule. She told me that if you sort the different colors of the little tiny beads inside the capsule, certain colors would get you high! I was in love!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Eventually, we got together at the beginning of eleventh grade and went steady through the rest of high school. She told me about going to a Monkey’s concert in Miami and screaming her head off for the whole show. She turned me on to John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and the famous song Room to Move. She also had a Traffic album with Steve Winwood smoking a joint on the back cover! Medicated Goo, indeed!<\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"
      Steve Winwood shares a joint…<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      We did the deed for the first time in a tent at Jetty Park. A cop found us and amazingly let us go despite finding her panties jammed into her purse and a bottle of Southern Comfort. I was scared witless!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      We ended up being together through a move to California. She dumped me there after her parents convinced her I was not good for her (I wasn’t). This got me out of Florida and on my own, where, interestingly enough, it started coming together for me\u2014at least for a while!<\/p>\n<\/details>\n\n\n\n

      <\/div>\n\n\n\n
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      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      Stage Band took a cruise to the Bahamas. We sold candy bars to pay our way and played once on the ship and once in the town square in Nassau.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n
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      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      Getting high in our stateroom! Stage brand cruise to the Bahamas in 1973<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
      \"\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t<\/button>
      High School 1973. Dad refused to pay for my picture because of my long hair. I was mainly trying to stay out of his way by that point.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
      \n\n\n\n

      Eddie Goes to College – Sort Of<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n

      \n
      \"\"
      CBHS Diploma<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      I graduated from High School and spent part of the summer in Boston, living with my high school best friend Bill. He had moved there somehow skipping his senior year to start college earlier. I lived with him, his snotty JAP girlfriend and her dog Fang. It was an short, but interesting visit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      <\/div>\n\n\n\n
      Shock The Monkey – Eddie Goes To Beantown<\/summary>\n
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      I had always planned to attend the local community college that fall. As a graduation present, Dad surprised me with a round-trip ticket to Boston. I moved in with Bill and his rather obnoxious girlfriend, Laura. They had an Airedale dog that I affectionately named Fang after Laura\u2019s last name, Fanger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      She was a genuine JAP (Jewish American Princess) with a lawyer father and two of the three sisters (no brothers). I had the privilege of visiting their country club swimming pool, which was quite an experience. Laura was a vegetarian who frequently faced health issues.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      We resided in Boston\u2019s Back Bay neighborhood, which, once notorious for crime, drugs, murder, and other heinous acts, had undergone a positive transformation as younger individuals flocked to the city. Although it was conveniently located near Fenway Park, I never had the opportunity to attend a baseball game during my time there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      On my first day in the city, I embarked on an exhausting all-day walk that took me through its vibrant streets. It was an experience that left me in awe, as if I had stumbled into a completely different world. One particularly memorable moment was when I encountered two men who defied traditional gender norms by walking down the street hand-in-hand, dressed in beards, dresses, and high heels. This sight left me in a state of disbelief and wonder, as if I had stumbled into a surreal landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      I had planned to job hunt, but instead, I had an unforgettable adventure. We embarked on a few road trips, exploring new places and creating unforgettable memories. We witnessed Edgar Winter perform Frankenstein at a massive football stadium outside the city. Additionally, we visited the Cape, though my recollections of that trip are somewhat hazy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      It was intriguing, but it firmly convinced me that I never wanted to reside in that region of the country. It was simply too peculiar for a Florida boy. The Left Coast, as I was soon to discover, was much more my cup of tea!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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      Partway through my stay, she informed me that her parents were relocating to California. Consequently, I promptly returned home. She managed to convince her parents to allow her to stay and attend Brevard Community College (now Florida Eastern University), where her mother worked as a librarian. She had secured a job at the Montgomery Ward store in Cocoa.<\/p>\n\n\n

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      I was with my friend Bill outside of Shakey’s Pizza Parlor in Cocoa Beach. I worked there for about 1 1\/2 years while attending community college. I used to get drunk every night I worked there. Not a good omen.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      I got a job at Shakey\u2019s Pizza Parlor in Cocoa Beach. Florida lowered the drinking age to 18 in response to protests on the war in Vietnam. Old enough to be killed but not buy a beer? Anyway, this enabled me to work there as I needed to be able to serve beer. The owner, Sharon, was a good-looking older woman with a boy my age. It was a distraction, and she was very liberal about her business practices. We would smoke pot out back, drink beer from our keg in the cooler, and smoke cigarettes while we made pizzas.<\/p>\n\n\n

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      Holly – Camping in the Keys Fall 1974<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      My music days more or less abruptly came to a halt after everybody except me moved off to go to college. I had applied and even been accepted at Florida State, but I was fucking clueless about what I would do next. I spent the next two years getting an Associate of Arts degree at BCC, focusing on math and science because I was pretty good at that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Holly\u2019s parents relocated at the end of September. They had rented her an apartment in Cocoa, just a short walk from her workplace. To facilitate her commute to school, they also bought her a 1963 Plymouth Valiant. Before they departed, I took their cat to reside at our house. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

      The following day, I moved in and left the cat with my parents. I was consumed by fear of my father\u2019s reaction and managed to avoid confronting him for approximately six months. When I finally encountered him months later, he expressed his astonishment, saying, \u201cI thought I had traded my son for a cat!\u201d Surprisingly, after that incident, our relationship began to improve!<\/p>\n\n\n

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      Diving in Alexander Springs<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      Two events happened to me during the next two years that would have a lasting impact on my life. The first was that I was certified as a Scuba Diver. I took several courses offered by the Community College and got a basic and advanced open-water dive certificate. Bill Meyer taught the classes. I also made some trips with Bill and other students or those who knew Bill. Bill was also a cave diver back when this was starting up and was very dangerous \u2013 many people were dying in the caves, getting lost, and running out of air. Bill would often help find these people! Yikes! I heard later that he ultimately met his demise in an airplane accident in South America. Supposedly, he was involved in drug smuggling at that point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      The next thing that happened had to do with my girlfriend and the community college. Holly graduated at the end of the first semester in 1974. I was on track to do the same, and we both were going to move to California and go to college together.<\/p>\n\n\n

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      The dreaded Halliday and Resnick Physics book<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      I was taking my first physics class that semester and was so lost that I had to drop the course and retake it the second semester. Holly moved to California, and I moved back in with my parents. I remember I made my brother Dave move out of his bedroom and sleep with Rick. I wasn’t about to share a bedroom again!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      I ended up re-taking the class from a different instructor, the first teacher I ever really remember taking the time to care if the students understood what was being taught (or so it seemed). I also remember running my very first ever computer program (on paper tape) during that class. The gift this guy gave me later became a lifelong passion for design, engineering, and working with computers. Who knew?<\/p>\n\n\n

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      I shot Mola Mola (Sunfish) with a borrowed camera at Looe Key in the Florida Keys. The camera was stolen from the dive boat but thankfully recovered later.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

      In the spring of 1975, just before graduating and relocating to California, I embarked on a trip to the Florida Keys with a group from my community college. Equipped with a borrowed Nikonos II underwater camera, I captured photographs during our dives. This experience ignited a lifelong passion for photography, particularly underwater photography. Interestingly, during the trip, someone else stole the camera, but they eventually returned it to me, complete with the film!<\/p>\n\n\n

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      Before moving to California Cocoa Beach in 1975, I was in Mom and Dad’s front yard at Blakey. The car is Holly’s Plymouth Valiant, which I kept after she moved out earlier.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n
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      In May 1975, I finally graduated from Brevard Community College with an Associate of Arts Degree. A colleague of my girlfriend’s father was transferred to Santa Maria and took some boxes of my stuff\u2014mostly my stereo, records, and a few tools. I had sold my drums earlier that Winter to an old schoolmate of my brother Rick. I was sad to see them go, but I had convinced myself my drumming days were over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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      I always regretted that decision – my only true regret in life – at least, I would like to think!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Sometime in the beginning of July, I flew from Orlando to Los Angeles and then caught a smaller plane to Santa Maria, California. I remember looking at the coastline as we flew north of Los Angeles. Winter had rained a lot, but the scenery was stunning\u2014I had never seen anything like it, with the mountains meeting the ocean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      My adventure had begun. If I only knew what lay ahead!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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      Next – West Coast ~ California and Washington<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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