A Baby Boomer's Scrapbook |
Click on these words to return to Life's School Year Four in the Air Force: I don't remember much about my 4th year in the Air Force. I got promoted to Staff Sergeant and became a leader (Team Chief) of my three man maintenance team of two technicians and a security guard. Work was pretty much routine by this time... Drive a 5 ton van full of test equipment and repair parts to a missile silo and fix it and then drive to the next and then to the next until it was time to either go home or to a launch control facility to rest up and then start over again the next day... Scott was growing up as fast as kids do and when he came down with a high fever while I was again out on a dispatch, Kerri took him to the base hospital where they just prescribed aspirin. When his fever continued to rise to 105, the hospital told Kerri to give him cold baths to bring it down. When that didn't work, Kerri called me and I told her to take him to the off base hospital and we'd figure out what to do to pay for it if we had to. At the emergency room, the doctor said that because he was military they couldn't treat him but said to rush him to the base hospital and he would call ahead to make sure that he was admitted... That worked but Scott spent the next two days naked in a cold room shivering like a wet dog while they ran tests... All the tests came out negative so the still didn't know what was wrong but his temperature did eventually come down and we were able to take him home... When it came time for me to get out of the Air Force, I wasn't sure what to do. There was no good work in Cheyenne and I didn't like it all that much but there were lots of jobs 2 hours south in the Denver area so I thought about doing that. Another alternative was to return to Michigan where there were good jobs and lots of family but having spent some time in Texas where I learned the weather was warm most of the year round and living in the Rockies where even the winters were mild compared to Michigan, I wasn't thrilled about that prospect either... The last alternative was a bit serendipitous... Race car friend Tom Wingett decided to go to a race in Phoenix and asked me if I'd go along. Upon our return to Cheyenne after a warm and sunny week in the Phoenix area, Tom had decided to pack up and move there and asked if I wanted to go to Phoenix with him. Since it was at about the time I was to be discharged from the Air Force and it was either that or stay in Cheyenne or return to Michigan, I decided that Phoenix was probably the best of the three options so, in January of 1970, I helped him pack and rode to Phoenix with him...
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