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David Mitchell

When I first came to Savannah in 1968 - arriving from Primary Flight Shool in Texas, to begin Advanced Flight School, we arrived on a day that was something like 99 degrees and 90% humidity. The line to check in to our Company (Class) was organized in a very military way, and we each advanced slowly across a hot sunny parking lot, along a sunny sidewalk, and finally, inside our building, and then up a stairway to the sign-in desk. We could not just gather in the shade of the building and wait our turn to go upstairs. We had to line up, spaced apart at 5-yard increments, and stop and come to "parade rest", as each one got to the front of the line and we could advance.

(note to civilians: three of the things that the Army holds a patent on are 1) long lines - 2) even longer lines - and 3) ridiculously long lines!)

My wait had been about an hour, and I was sweating like a pig, soaking through the back of my dress khaki uniform shirt. I got about three guys from the front of the line when I just fainted. One of my "TAC Sergeants", a short, but very large (and strong) black Staff Sereagent, simply picked me up like a baby in his arms and walked me down the hall to the first barracks room (bedroom), layed me out in the shower floor, took off my folding cap, shoes, belt and brass buckle, and watch, and turned the shower on me full blast.

He was my gaurdian angel. (and he really was later on - a bulldog on the surface, but a gentle, kind guy).

Shortly after I first moved back down here (17 years ago), I expereinced a more serious heat exhaustion episode. I had been helpig a guy half my age unload a flatbed truck of a whole shipment of rough sawn lumber - in 103 degree heat with a "heat index" factor of about 113 (that's a term for the "effective" temperature with a humidity factor calculated in).

Eventualy, my legs went limp under me and I went down, incoherant as I lay there while they called an ambulance. At the ER they had to inject me with not one, but two "bags" of - was it a saline solution? They warned me that I had come close to being in serious trouble. That I was now "a marked man" (no, not my "Marked Men" retreats), and that having expereinced it once, I would now be more susceptible to future problems. 

Over the years I have had to give up golf with my younger buddies, and become more of an indoor guy. And this summer has been a rough one down here! It comes over me very quickly now and I am aware when it is comming on.

Last March, I got asked to be the guest speaker at our upcomming town Memorial Day service. I said yes - in March (cool March) - not thinkng about the date or the circumstances of the event. Come Memorial Day it was 105 degrees (not including the "heat index"). The event was to be outside, and coat and tie for those of us upfront on the panel of "guests". I showed up at the police station (site of the event) with my golf umbrella for shade, and bottle of water - and a bit nervous about the heat. Turns out the building had a bit of roof overhang for some shade, so I gave my umbrella to a lady in the audience, and the police were handing out cold bottles of water to the crowd. I also refused to wear my suit coat. 

So I managed to get through it all right. The whole thing was about an hour and my part was maybe 20 minutes. But about two hours later I started feeling dizzy and weak, and it lasted for two more days. 

For a kid who fainted 15 or 20 times on the alter, while serving Mass at OLP between 5th and 8th grade, I guess I haven't learned very much. 

----------------

We had a guy who was one of our "Observers" in our "Loach" flying mission who told an intersting story from the Arizona heat. He was from the small town of Gila Bend Arizona, south of Phoenix, and had played high school football. He told us that state rules required that summer football practice (up to about November - I think?) was not allowed to commence before 9:00 pm. HIs practices lasted well past 11:00 at night, and that after a shower and change of clothes, he had to walk a great distance to his home. He said he rarely got home before 1:00 am. That's dedication.

Michael McLeod

This response has been a long time coming and it's directed to Mark for his astonishing and repugnant and wackadoodle - yes, I said it, wackadoodle! - remarks about Neil Young.

For starters: There is just something acute and astounding in his voice. 

I would guess it is a matter of taste but that alone distinguishes him among the rockers of our generation.

It's nasal yet compelling, lyrical -- I'm trying to thing of a classical instrument it reminds me of. Upper register oboe, maybe.

But to my point: You asked, in a snarky-snark tone I might add, how many songs of his have left their mark. Well. Prepare to be soundly chastised, my wackadoodle friend, because have I got a list for you:

Old Man Take a Look at My Life

Down by the River

Southern Man (trivia question: what song was written as a retort to this song?)

Cowgirl in the Sand

OHIO, fer cryin out loud

Heart of Gold!!!!!

Don't Let it Bring You Down

The Needle and the Damage Done.

And that immortal anthem with the deathless headbanger lyrics:

MY MY HEY HEY ROCK AND ROLL IS HERE TO STAY!

HEY HEY MY MY ROCK AND ROLL WILL NEVER DIE!

Mark: I don't even KNOW you anymore.

I was GOING to write about the tragedy of the rain forest burning and the various tragedies befalling the globe and the ongoing disinformation campaigns that monied interest are using to decieve the naive, and it does indeed feel like a long long time before the dawn in that regard, but I am obliged as a matter of honor to challenge you with regards to this critical and dare I say heretical remark about a dark god of rock and roll.

And remember: It's better to burn out than to fade away.

James Hamilton, M. D.

Dave M.,

Given your history of heat-related injuries, I am curious as to why you have chosen to live where you do. Granted, at our age, we are all pretty much staying where we are now, unless and until some change in our lives or health prompts us to relocate.

And while we are on this topic, how did we all end up where we are?  This might be interesting....

Jim 

Mark Schweickart

Mike – In the groveling spirit of a "sinner in the face of an angry God," let me say I accept your flagellating condemnation of my seeming heretical remarks about his holiness, Neil Young. I plead old-man, foggy-brained memory as my only excuse (and to paraphrase his worshipfulness, obviously this old man is not a lot like you). I see in your list of Neil Young songs that there were indeed quite a few that I didn't recall at the time of writing my post. However, I must still contend, that aside from Ohio, none of those listed, (although obviously hit songs and appreciated by me back in the day) had any sort of lasting impact on me personally.

And to answer your trivia question about Southern Man, I believe it was Lynyrd Skynyrd's Sweet Home Alabama.

In closing, let me just say that I feel my doodle deservedly whacked, and "Rave on curmedgeonly, Neil, rave on!"

Michael McLeod

I'm in Fla because the newspapers were livelier and more creative down here at the time.

Ohio rags seemed stodgy by comparison.

Now they're all in the same tepid soup bowl, save the giants -- Wapo and the NYTimes.

The Times in particular has made remarkable strides in presentation and new media and, contrary to he who must not be named, is not failing or fake but rather prospering and turning out some of the best journalism I've seen in my 50 years in the trade.

David Mitchell

Wow,

I am sooo glad that L.A. and Orlando are not in each other's back yard. At least that makes it kinda hard to throw pitchforks, or lob satchel bombs over the back fence. 

And I do realize we could be wasting our time discussing trivial matters - like the rain forest fires in Brazil, or the riots in Hong Kong, but it's refreshing to see that you two really have your priorities straight - - almost.

But what you two youngsters need to realize that it is not in fact, Neal Young that defined a generation, but rather, Donovan, Joe Cocker, and Van Morrison.  

I mean - really!

My advice to you is, as the Brits say,

"Keep Calm 

and take light doses of Tiny Tim before bed time every night."

(or does your chewing gum loose it's flavor on the bed post over night?)

David Mitchell

Jim, 

Okay I'll bite.

I landed on "planet Clintonville" becasue my mom and my dad fell in love at North High School around 1928 - and after a romance followed by a marraige, they decided to Choose Life, and take me home from the hospital and see if my big sisters could stand me. (a similar plight of my trusted ally, one John Jackson)

Later, I transfered to the "High Country" (Colorado) because there was a school that would accept me, and because it was located near of a "family of friends" by the names of Vail, Loveland, Steamboat, Aspen, Arapaho Basin, Keystone, Breckenridge, Copper Mountain, Winter Park, and Telluride. I regret that I have not been amongst them since many fresh powder snows ago.

There were stops along the way in Salzburg, Austria, and one quiet little cottage located conveniently between the banks of the muddy Mekong, and a dusty noisy runway.

Oh, and a return visit to the "Big -C" for 12 years.

But I am down here because a best buddy (from that same little Mekong retreat years ago) offered me a job with his homebuilding operation on Hilton Head, and he gave me (yet another) chance to get my life right side up in Bluffton. (when has it ever been right side up, you may ask?). I have lived in a small rental cottage in a sort of Shangri La location on the May River (Johnny Mercer's "Moon River") for 17 years - at the end of a private dirt, and I have two docks in front of the cottage where we chat and watch dolphins swim by in the evenings (that is, when I am home, and when the breeze keeps the mosquitos at bay). Fall and Winter are gorgeous. Spring can be nice at times. And Summers can get downright brutal!

And our "oystahs",  "shreeimp", and "Blue Crayab" are ta die fer!

(Jim, the real reason I landed here is because I was driving South, and I figured I'd better stop well short of Orlando, where all those crazy English Majors live - you know, the ones who don't seem to know their rock & roll music history from their hind ends -  and don't even know what "guage" their "American Flyer" was - - - Jeesh!  

Gives me the Willys - or the "Wackydoodles")

David Mitchell

I know some of you traveled the vast canyons from Clintonville to U.A.  and even Hilliard.

What about Espania!  

Or New Jersey!

So how did the rest of you get to wherever?

Michael McLeod

Don't be a dick, Dave.

Also learn how to spell gauge, gramps.

And apart from all that:

how you can possibly call yourself a patriot when you mock AMERICAN Flyer trains I'll never know.

David Mitchell

Nina is supposed to be doing my spell checking. I never got very far in our Spelling Beez. 'Sides, thoze dumm 6th-graid girls alwasy wun the gold ribonz.

I try to make up for it in long winded-ness. (is that a word? - you would know)

I just assumed that if I can bore y'all to tears, you won't notiss my spelling erors.

David Mitchell

Okay, so where has this been all my life?

("here, you drive. I need to put my blindfold on")

https://www.usatoday.com/videos/tech/2019/08/28/nissan-creates-self-driving-golf-ball-always-finds-hole/2138847001/

Mark Schweickart

As a matter of fact, Dave, as a child, my chewing gum did lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight, and unlike my rebellious little brother, who, when our mother said, "Don't chew it,"  would swallow it in spite. I did not because I feared it might get caught on my tonsils and wind up swinging left and right. But economic times being what they were back then, I deemed it wiser to let it rest on the bedpost overnight.

David Mitchell

Mark, 

Touche!  I see hope for you yet. I think there could be a song in there somewhere.

(BTW, You weren't one of those English Majors were you?)

-------------------

And Doctor Jim,

Do tell how your path led you to the "Garden of the Gods"?  

Or anyone? Class? Anyone?

Michael McLeod

Great. Another hurricane headed this way. 

Michael McLeod

In the meantime -- this is a continuating of the conversation/bitchfest Mark and I were engaged in: What songs and singers of our era had an impact on you?

I'll start with Paul McCartney. His sensitivity and his endurance as a talented but extremely humble, good-hearted, and well-balanced male has been an inspiration to me. One song of his I have come to love in particular is Let it Be, which as you may or may not know was based on a dream he had in which his mother, who had died years early, came to him in a dream and uttered those words of reassurance.

I don't know if you have ever had that experience of being "visited" by someone you lost in a dream. I have. 

It's compelling. It's a gift. 

That's what the music of Paul, and the other lads, will always represent to me. A gift.

I may write another time and relate the story about a Help album which was signed by all four Beatles and is now in the possession of my first wife, bless her heart. She managed to get John's and George's autograph while growing up in England; I got Paul and Ringo to sign it years later, here in the states. 

Michael McLeod

IS THERE ANYBODY ALIVE OUT THERE?????

LOVE THIS WEBSITE:

https://www.windy.com/?28.530,-81.481,5

David Mitchell

Mike, Tom, and Tess,

Looks like a fun Labor Day "celebration", doesn't it ?

David Barbour

Mike,  Thanks for the link

DB

Mary Margaret Clark (Schultheis)

Especially for my IC classmates of yesteryear.....a video and some "old" IC photos.

And that is all of the incriminating photos I will divulge today!!

John Jackson

Yikes, Mike! I think you're well away from the coast but it looks like your night-blooming-whatevers will get quite a drink...

Michael McLeod

Thanks, John:

Actually, however it looks on the map, Orlando is perhaps 50 miles as the crow flies from the Atlantic coast, so we can get quite a wallop when they come in from that side depending on the vector. And oddly enough, the worst hurricane I have ever been through - well, as a resident, rather than as a reporter - was a regular landlubber: Charlie, 15 years ago, basically crossed into south fla from the gulf side and came straight up 1-4, through the middle of the peninsula, like it was bent on going to Disney World. And boy howdy did it get its money's worth out of the trip. There is a chance, gulp, that the same thing will happen with Dorian: One possibility, which just got more likely, is that it will go straight across south fla. from the atlantic side, then make a sharp right hand turn and come straight towards us. But the storm weakens, rather than strengthens, when it travels over land.

At any rate: don't believe what you hear from the FAKE MEDIA!!!

And I am only half joking. What you get, as always, and especially from televised coverage, is news from the places where there is the most drama. It's not a deceptive view; just a selective one.

People will likely lose their homes. There may be deaths and injuries. But for most Floridians like me the worst thing will be losing power and internet service and having to clean up lots and lots of fallen limbs and -- actually this is the worst of it -- trying to sleep through the night without a.c. if we weren't smart enough to buy a generator in advance.

Thanks for the nostaligia photos mm. More proof, as if we needed it, that IC produced the most beautiful young ladies in the diocese. And then "dating Dave" Mitchell proceeded to hit on nearly all of them.

Jeanine Eilers (Decker)

Mike--Just in case:  We have room for you if you need to "blow" town (no pun intended).  Seriously, just head west, ignore the deep south and Texas, enjoy the scenery of New Mexico and come to Phoenix.  You would be most welcome.

David Mitchell

Jeanine,

I didn't think they allowed English Majors in Arizona.

And Mike,

Just make sure you don't let that thing turn right before it reaches land. I have been thinking of renting a helicopter to come down there and "Nuke" that thing. 

We here way up "north" in South Cacakalatchie are watching with bated breath.

(or Mark, is it baited?)

Michael McLeod

Thank you for the thoughtful offer, Jeanine.

I'm pointedly ignoring you, Dave.

James Hamilton, M. D.

I have not logged on for a few days but it seems there are several topics in play here on the Forum.

Most urgent is Hurricane Dorian which may "touch" Mike's abode in Orlando. Best wishes and prayers that you all and your property will be safe. Good thing you have that generator since power failure is one of the first things to occur in most storms whether they be wind, snow or fire related.

Mary Margaret's old IC photos were precious and certainly brought back a few memories of that Clintonville parish and school. I thank her for sharing those and await others she may have. I'm not sure Tom and Tess were thinking of those kind of pictures but it may help prompt others to add some of Watterson '62-'66 and other grade schools such as St. Agatha. I don't believe I have any from our IC days; I'll search for any from our BWHS years.

And, Dave M., in regards to how I ended up in Colorado (since I brought up the topic of how we all got to where we are), it is a long story of both getting here and why I (we) stayed here. The Cliff Note's version is that as the end of my residency was in sight, we looked, interviewed and/or communicated with practice opportunities in Worthington, OH, Marietta, OH, Wilmington, NC, Medford OR, and Colorado Springs. We both liked the Springs and I was offered a position with a large multispeciality group which I accepted. For several reasons that did not work to our advantage. We wanted to stay in the Springs so I interviewed at the Air Force Academy Hospital (a few miles north of our home) but decided to take a civilian job at Ft. Carson (something that I had never imagined). That allowed me to practice the way I like and do a lot of teaching. After a few years there, the Army instituted a RIF (Reduction in Force) of their civilian doctors and so, being the most recently hired civilian doc, I preemptively looked at a teaching/practice opportunity at St. Joseph Hospital in Phoenix, AZ, was contacted by a doctor in Lamar, CO who needed a partner and interviewed for  a partnership with another internist in San Leandro, CA. However, I survived the RIF and the rest is history.

That's my story. What's yours?

Jim