Well JP ...
... I said it was a longer story, and I was just going to let it go, cause like I said, this is a sailing forum. But you asked a considerate question, so I'll give you a considerate answer. And then can we PLEASE go back to sailing? On an afternoon in early Nov. 1970, we were in a minor firefight, moved about 2 klicks off that location, and set up early for the night. The Lt came over and said they had come up on the net that I was going home on emergency leave, and a slick will be here to pull me out. Everyone gave me what money they had, out I went (scary damn extracation), and we flew through a couple refuelings all the way to Ben Hoa, where the company xo met me with orders. They bumped someone off the next flight stateside, and I was in the air for home less than six hours after being in a firefight. STILL didn't know why, or what was going on. Got to Travis AFB, where I was finally able to discover that my dad was in critical condition from his heart problems. Bused to Oakland to get cleaned up and in uniform, and then out to San Fran airport, where I was sitting with my head spinning from too much change, having a real drink for the first time in who knows how long, waiting for my plane to St. Louis when two guys, not particularly hippy looking, walked by and spit on me. They didn't say anything that I heard. I was too stunned to even react, they disappeared. A few people who saw it whisked me away, got me drunk, and carried me on the plane. They told the passengers my story, cause when we got to St. Louis, everyone stayed seated and clapped till I was off the plane. So, truthfully it was a bigger deal a few months later when I could place it in context and think about it. So ... I was not speaking metaphorically in my first post. It did happen, and it happened at a pretty bad time for me. You might bear in mind that this was SF, after all, probably the focal point for anti-war feelings. And recall also that people acted and made decisions in those years amidst a caldron of emotion and chaos that is not particularly understandable today. I just wanted to explain why some of us just manage better day-to-day by leaving the whole thing alone ... even on Veteran's Day. BTW, Dad died three days later, my financee broke our engagement a few weeks after that, and the next couple years were pretty rough. But today, I am a successful, respected, and educated man, with a fine family, five grandchildren, and a C27 that I love to sail. As I told my daughter a couple years ago, I'm not dead, disabled, POW, or mentally gone. A lot of guys ... and their families ... had it a lot worse. I'm not going to respond to anything that gets posted after this on this thread. If anyone just HAS to go on with this, my off board email is clevispin10@hotmail.com. Tom
) Tom Monroe Carlyle Lake
