Page 24 - A Soldiers Exposition

My mother finally divorced my father. A condition to the divorce included a court order that my father was
to leave the state and never return. I did not hear from nor know of my father again until I was in basic
training in the Army years later.

After the divorce, life improved measurably. I made friends, improved in school, and did what most nine-
year-old boys do. Mom and I moved into a small trailer in a different part of town. She was closer to work
and I could walk to school with my friends. Life really was normal.

Please bear with me as I tell of the adventures of two little boys, their bikes, and the Interstate 80
workers. I had one friend who enjoyed everything life had to offer. Richard loved to do anything and to
try anything. Richard was full of life – a trip. He was also full of adventure.

Fearless and independent-minded Richard and I started our own unofficial business. Interstate 80 was
being built just a couple of miles from the trailer park. He and I decided the workers could use a delivery
service for sandwiches, candy, and pop (sodas). We got the owner of our local mom and pop grocery
store to front us the first load of sodas and candy. Off we went, pulling wagons behind our bikes. There
we were nine years old and already on our way to our first million dollars. And, do not laugh; we made a
considerable sum of money, at least in the minds of two little poor boys.

My mother met a man that would become my stepfather. She remarried when I was almost ten. Her new
husband’s glory years were behind him. He earned a meager wage. Mom smoked one cigarette after
another all day long and drank beer every night. She died at age 72 from lung cancer.

My stepfather smoked smelly cigars all day long and drank beer every night. My stepfather’s glory years
involved playing baseball in college, the minor leagues, and a short time with a professional team. Then
he was hurt in a car accident. The glory was over, and he had few skills.

It was fun to play catch and listen to him tell stories about his baseball days. Of course, I was too young
to expect or reason that he might be embellishing his actual time in baseball. But the stories were fun
and I did get to attend some pretty good games. Some of his stories were true and that made him my
hero. We would listen to the games on the radio while playing catch.

By the age of fourteen my mother, stepfather and I had traveled from state to state, back and forth in
search of work. We had moved to and from three states so many times that I knew the route by heart. I
think the car was on autopilot.

We were now in California and life was a major improvement. We lived in a house, a rental, but who
cares. It was a house. It was a significant move up in the world.

My stepfather planted “the seeds of thought” in me that: All things can be taken away from you except
your education. Those kernels grew a little later in my life when I became the only person on the blood
side of my family to graduate high school or college.

High school was not a pleasant time for me - school was not easy. Life, in general, was not easy. I was
not a happy fifteen-year-old boy. I did not fit in and I made few friends. I was the “skinny poor kid.”
During my senior year of high school, the state of California began a program in which some high school
kids (including me), could attend a state junior college and take college courses at the same time. But we
had to take an extra physical education class as this was a pre-requisite to graduate high school. This
was an important requirement that would later impede me.

I would later learn that dementia can steal your education as well. Please read more in the section about
Dementia and Traumatic Brain Injury or visit the link.

Lesson: Nothing in life should be taken for granted or be considered everlasting. Love and cherish what
you have for it could all vanish in a flash.