Sunday, August 30, 2009

First boat

The finished product with the winged horse on the bow and everything. It was soooo cool, and My dad built it two weekends.


Dot, are these the ones you asked about? The back of the pictures says 1957

I must have really liked this shirt.

I was about twelve when my dad built me my first boat. A friend down the street had an El Toro sailboat. It looked small enough to be built in a few weekends with very little materials. My dad could build or fix anything. We picked up some sheets of butcher paper and traced the outline of one side and half of the bottom of the El Toro. This was the plan to follow. If I remember right it took two 4X8 sheets of 1/4" marine plywood. The boat measured seven foot eleven inches long and four feet wide.
A friend of my dads had an old outboard motor that we got real cheap, or free, I don't remember which. It was a one and a half horse motor built in Munce Indana, probley in the 1920's. You had to wind a rope around the flywheel and pull to start it and the tank held about a quart of gas.
The first place the boat hit the water was at Lake Brittan, up in the Shasta area. We went on a two week vacation with the family ski boat and my new boat.
I was like Tom Sawyer on a two week adventure. My folks could not get me off the water. The family went to town a few times to get supplies and I would stay on the lake. I explored every cove and inlet. I caught fish, turtles, frogs, and anything that I could find. Life was very very good for a young boy and a new boat.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

First car


In 1956 I was thirteen. My Grandfather Condley couldn't drive any longer so he gave us his pride and joy, his 1936 four door Dodge. I only have one picture and it's really a bad one. I down loaded one that looks a lot like the one we had. I learned to drive the stick shift by driving up and down the driveway. When no one was looking I would venture out onto the street. It didn't take long before I was all over Alameda. My friends would pile in and we would head for the local Fosters Freeze to spend our allowance. I even went across the Bay Bridge a few times. Keep in mind that I was still thirteen and in gramer school. I did get caught! Did you know they didn't have student parking in the eighth grade? I parked in one of the teachers parking spaces and my dad was notified. How can you ground a thirteen year old from driving?

Thursday, August 20, 2009

First Fireman In Cameron Park...How It Happened

At the end of November 1966 I took a cab from Oakland where I had just been discharged from the Army. I paid the cab driver, stood in front of the family home on 8Th street in Alameda. I dropped my duffel bag on the sidewalk and looked up and asked, "Now what". I had actually made it home! Of course no one was home. I hadn't called ahead to let anyone know what the time frame would be. I remember I slept on the floor in front of the heater for the first few weeks. I was really used to a hot humid climate.
After a few weeks at home my dad said they might be hiring at the Navel Air Station. I applied and got a job as a mechanic, and by chance it was working on Navy fire equipment. I re-built fire engines and crash trucks for about a year, and again by chance transferred into the fire department on the base. I told the fire chief that I knew more about the fire equipment than anyone else, and I could learn firefighting as I went.
So I fought fires and worked on the airfield as a crash fire firefighter for another year. They had hired several of us at the same time. One of the guys had been the fire chief in Marin County and was let go by the board of directors. He had a ton of experience and fun to work with. We were watching jets landing from one of the aircraft carriers that was still out at sea, they do this before they come in and dock. Anyway Herb, the ex fire chief was reading a trade magazine from the fire service. They were advertising for a fire chief up in the Sierra foothills. Long story short, they hired Herb and he needed someone that could build and maintain fire equipment. I was very fed up with the bay area (another story) and jumped at the chance to re-locate. I moved up on 28 March 1969. My official start date would be 1 April 1969. I hadn't thought about starting a career on April Fools day, but I did. That's why I picked Halloween day 31 October 2005 to retire. It only made sense!
Herb also called another guy to join us, but the district could only afford one full time fireman and one part time. So Don, the new guy came up and got a job managing the Phillips Gas Station full time and the fire station part time. I worked part time at the Phillips station. Don would shut off the power and lock the doors, drive to the fire house and as soon as he arrived I left and re-opened the gas station. We had a few young guys pumping gas and cleaning the grounds. We did this for several years. I have always had more than one job at a time. It kept me out of trouble.
This is how I ended up at Cameron Park Fire Department.

Swimming With The Seal


While I was still about twelve, some of my friends and myself spent a lot of time ether at the beach at Washington Park or down at the estuary. This one day we all decided to make it a beach day and swim out to the radar tower which was about a mile off shore. We have done this several times and we try to out jump each other by climbing up high and jumping out further. Well as it turned out I was the only one out of at least three others that showed up. I hung around the beach for awhile and decided I would swim out by myself. About halfway to the radar tower this thing surfaced right in front of me, like two feet away, eye to eye. It barked and to this day I can still smell that breath. It looked at me for a few seconds, then just went down, tail first like it was sizing me up. I'm thinking to myself, what part of me is it going to taste test? I am an almost naked skinny twelve year old. I'm sure I peed in the bay right about then. I looked at the shore, then to the tower. It was about the same distance, and I took the stupid choice. I went to the tower. Now I'm stuck on the radar tower, and no way am I jumping in the water with this fish breath, whiskery, barking monster. And has anyone noticed the teeth these things have? About an hour later I'm freezing my skinny little butt off, so in I go and break all my swimming records for making it to the beach. Ill stick to small boats for now. Or large crowds. I think this is why fish swim in large schools and try to stay in the middle of the crowd. I don't remember, but I don't think I went tower jumping again. At least in the bay.

New outboard


That first two weeks in my new boat was a once in a lifetime experience for a young boy. The freedom of movement it gave me will only be eclipsed with the ability to drive wherever I wanted to go. The boat however did open the San Francisco bay and the Oakland Alameda estuary to me. The motor my dad and I rebuilt was one and a half horse and did alright if I watched the tides and wind. It failed a few times and I was able to row to a shore and be rescued.

When we got home from lake Brittan in Shasta County I had a little dilemma. How to move the boat from home to the water. My dad solved the problem in short order, a trailer pulled ether by hand, or pulled behind my bicycle. Dad built an aluminum tube frame with three wheels and a pull handle. Alameda only has one hill and its a pile of dirt and is called windy hill, so everything else is pretty much flat and paved. I wasn't ready to tow a boat with a car yet. I was still twelve.

Now about being rescued. My motor quit one afternoon and the tide changed before I could round the west end of Alameda and I was being pulled out under the Bay Bridge and headed over by Alcatraz. I was pulling for all I was worth on the oars, but losing headway.

My dads side of the story went like this. I got home from work and (joe) my nickname was not at home and his boat and bike were gone also. I drove down to the marina. Kens bike and trailer were still there so I knew he would be heading back this way. I went home, hooked up the family boat and went to the end of Grand street and launched. As I went down the estuary I asked if anyone had seen a kid in a small boat. I did run into one fisherman that said he saw a kid out by the bay bridge about an hour earlier. My dad found me sort of holding my own on the Leeward side of Alcatraz and some guards yelling at me to stay away. I tossed my dad my bow line and hopped on his boat. It was a slow ride back to the marina with my boat in tow. Between the out going tide and the incoming wind it got really rough and the big boat was only fourteen feet long.

I had worn out the old Muncie motor and it was really lacking in both horsepower and dependability. Dad found a really great two cylinder ten horse Mercury in a box, all apart. Don't you just love people that can look beyond shiny new things? By rebuilding the motor I learned everything I would need to know when I had a motor problem out on the water. And where else would a young boy work on his brand new old outboard motor but in his bedroom! What a dad!

How I Met Your Mother







Garian has asked me to document some of my story's. This is one of the stories Garian wanted me to write.
By the time I had met your mother I had already worked in several repair shops while I was in high school. This paid for my cars, repair parts, gas and so on. If I had met you mother when I had graduated from high school, your mom would have been about eight years old. Not ready to meet her yet.
After returning from sea I went to work at Crown and Zellerback ,making frozen pea boxes. That lasted about a week. Then I went about a mile away to Montgomery Wards and got a job in the repair facility in San Leandro. I have some stories from there also. While working at Wards I received my call to serve in the Army.
After my hitch in the army, Your mom would be about fifteen. I still have a few years to wait before I'm supposed to meet your mother.
After the Army I went to work for the Navy as a fire equipment mechanic, then transferred to the fire department, and eventually a move to Cameron Park as the first fireman to be hired. The year is 1969, and your mom is now seventeen, soon to be eighteen. It's about time for us to meet.
I had a second job at the local Phillips 66 gas station, and we had several young men working with us. One such young man drove into the station with your mom sitting in his car. I said hi and leaned in through the drivers' window and asked the young lady why she was dating this guy. Your mom looked at him, then at me and couldn't answer the question. Your mom came back to the gas station a few days later in her little black V.W. bug. I did some service work on it and we started dating soon there after.
Your grandmother Barbara stopped in the gas station a few weeks later and invited me over for your mom's birthday. When I arrived and my soon to be mother-in-law was placing the candles and lighting them, I started counting. She had placed the eighteenth candle when I caught my breath. I think I said something like, you have to be kidding, right? Your mom just about had earned her AA at the local college.
I proposed about a year later, after I had asked your grandfather Tabor for her hand in marriage. Bill, Barbara and I had planned a dinner at Sam's' Town in the Lillian Russel room. Three of us knew I was going to propose, Your mom didn't. Three of us couldn't eat, your mom was eating like she hadn't eaten for the last few days.

When I dropped down on one knee and held her hand the restaurant got real quite. This could be a night to remember only if your mom will say yes. I think I thought to myself, what if she says maybe, or no. I held my breath, your mom didn't wait too long before accepting my proposal.

We were married in the Emmanuel Church in Coloma, February 7 ,1971. Your mom was nineteen and I was twenty eight. We waited five years before Karson was born and another two years for Garian. Almost to the day, two years, less two days apart. I have no regrets waiting for the right girl at the right time. Now we have four wonderful grandsons and thirty eight years together, with more to look foward to.

Army

Top picture is bending wrenches, keeping things running. The bottom picture is on a really big tow truck. We had arrived at a base camp called Godeha (sp) really a scary place to be for a couple of days before heading back to CuChi. What else could a guy want? A really big tow truck, an M14 and a cold one!




When I graduated from high school I went to the Navy recruiter and wanted to enter the sub service. I took the tests and was told that I was too tall for the older diesel electric and that I didn't qualify for anything that they needed for the newer nuclear subs. That ended my Navy carrier. Just by chance my neighbor asked what I was up to after high school and that's how I went to sea on the ship Pioneer. Ill be adding to that blog as time goes on.

So I waited for the draft for a few years. I was called to duty on 18 November 1964.

Where in the world is Fort Polk?

I found out shortly, for about three months. After basic training I was sent to Hawaii with the 25Th Infantry Division, 125Th Signal, C company.

When I left I had a 250 Honda Scrambler, a 1957 Plymouth station wagon that I bought from Dad and Eloise, and my second Oldsmobile, a 1950 two door fast back that I raced on the quarter mile drag strip. Life was good back then.

After a few great months on Oahu my neighbor put my motorcycle in a box in pieces and shipped it to me. That's a whole other story. So now I had my bike and I had picked up a 1951 MG TD to run around the island.

About January 1966 we got the call that we were deploying to South East Asia. (Viet Nam). I shipped the bike back to my neighbor, Sherman. I told him to keep the bike, but sell the station wagon and Olds. I sent a (dear Joan)I really didn't plan on coming home, and I didn't want to write home except to family.

My kids have always asked what I did in the Army and I try to keep it lite, funny and interesting. Lots of really good guys to be with. I'm still in touch with some.

Shena, Queen of the Jungle

Linda was such a loving big sister when she wasen't Shena.


(Left to right, back row) Linda (Shena), Patsy, Dottie being held by Judy)
(Left to right, front row) Bill King, Ken (me)



Linda (Shena) The bow in the hair is to remind us that Shena is a girl.


I was five in 1948. My little sister was under a year old and my big sister was eight. Our neighborhood was at the foot of eighth street with one house between us and the tracks of the Alameda belt line. It was a busy place during the second world war and was winding down in the late forties and early fifties. The block we lived on had lots of elderly people and a few young families with kids like us.
The block was in dire need of kid-like leadership. In comes my big sister,now known as Shena, Queen of the jungle. Nothing escaped the watch full eye of Shena. I, of course, was the perfect little blond five year old. Shena led us on adventures into the wilds of the open fields of the rail yards with tall grass and piles of sand that were used by the trains and kept in huge boxes. We would hear a train coming and hide so we wouldn't get run off. We built forts and dug tunnels. If you dug too deep in Alameda you would hit water, so we had shallow tunnels.
After any Christmas we would gather up all the neighborhood Christmas trees and stack them up to make log houses. They really smelled great, but we would always be covered with pine pitch.
The rail yard would have areas that were filled with water and always have frogs and tad poles and toads. Great fun for a bunch of kids. It was great to have a leader and organize our adventures. Way down the rail line was a lumber mill with piles of sawdust and boards to build things with. We built rafts on the ponds and had raft wars. At this age we didn't go to the bay or the estuary,which was a good thing. That will come in a few years for me.
At the back of the train roundhouse, at the end of the tracks, stood a hill of dirt. It was put there to stop any runaway rail cars, or trains. It was most likely one of the highest points in Alameda. Us kids had trails and paths over and around it that we could even ride our bicycles over. We called it "windy hill". Not too long ago my little sister and I were talking about the good old days and Dottie mentioned windy hill. Our step mom, who was also raised on the same block as we were, perked up and said "I remember windy hill" I played on it as a little girl. Eloise is ninety four this year. I guess us kids didn't invent the area, did we?
Shena's reign only lasted for a few years. Once she turned eleven or twelve she turned into a girl and took up other interests. The eighth street hood was broken up and found other things to do.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Mail Buoy




Me at 17 on the USC-GSS Pioneer

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Shortly after graduating from Alameda High School I was offered a job on a Coast and Geodetic ship that was leaving Oakland and working between Hawaii and Alaska for about a year. The ship was 114 feet long and 48 feet wide. It was also a little rusty around the edges. It served during World War Two as a sub tender. It was commissioned Sea Wolf, latter re-commissioned Pioneer as a research vessel.

About the third week at sea one of our Engineers, Mr. Peasly poked his head in our bunk area and let us younger guys, that had just been hired on for the voyage, know that we would be coming up to the mail buoy in a few hours. If we had any letters for home, now would be a good time to send them. A bunch of us started writing letters home. I tracked Mr. Peasly down to give him a hand full of mail and he told us that we were the only ones wanting to send letters home and that if we wanted to, we could watch for the mail buoy at around midnight and drop them in.

So this is how you will find four or five of us younger guys up on the bow of the ship at exactly midnight with battle lanterns shining out into the darkness looking for the mail buoy.

Anyone that has been on a ship knows how loud the public address system is! The old Captain of the ship was watching us from the bridge and found out what we were doing. He clicked on the P.A. and in a VERY fatherly voice that everyone on the ship could hear, or anyone within a few miles, "YOUNG MEN, THERE IS NO MAIL BUOY, go below and get some sleep".
Mr. Peasly got us good, and not the last time either.