As I have so many times over the years and various jobs, I came to know and respect a mentor and supervisor named Don. The family run furniture store only had eight or nine employees at any given time. Don ran the delivery, receiving, and warehouse area. I found out something by working for my Dad on the family farm, the family owned bus company, and then the family owned furniture store - there was politics in family run businesses. Ol' Don (who was probably 34 at the time and also an Army veteran) had a mantra, " Bob, some things are best left unsaid." And as with so many people in mentor roles I have met and worked with, I try to take one thing away from the relationship of worth. Don is right - just let some things go.
Don repaired and rebuilt cars and motorcycles on the side. He always had a project going on. He usually just focused on one hard luck case of a car or truck and then after resurrecting it and driving it a bit, he would sell it. This he did perennially, vehicle after vehicle. Don liked to break life down to simplest terms - don't carry a piece of furniture unnecessarily, know where the purchaser is located, research the best way to get the piece in the designated room, etcetera. I learned floors were notoriously uneven. Don always carried a marble in case we needed to find the pitch on a wood or hard floor to adjust table legs. Don was not impressed with rocket science.
During that year at the furniture store in 1979 gas prices sored. It was about 35 miles down to the store from my Dad's farm. I purchased a used 350cc Yamaha motor cycle with some bonds I had accumulated in the Army. I remember my girl friend crying about how I should focus on her and not a dirty old motorcycle. I eventually bought three motorcycles and dismissed the girl friend. I rode the good-gas-mileage machine so late into the winter, once my Dad had to come get me in the pickup truck because a foot of snow had fallen during the work day and I could not ride the cycle home.
One time we delivered a special order super king sized mattress to a family. They lived in a tiny one-and-a-half-room apartment. The mattress covered the whole living room floor. We had a devil of a time getting it up the narrow stairs. It was five below zero outside. The people were from somewhere in the Middle East. The woman made tea and offered it up to us. Don declined and I nudged him on the elbow. There was nothing in the kitchen but a hot plate and a tea pot. We sat on the edge of the mattress with the rest of the family and drank the tea. The father smoked a cigarette and smiled at his new purchase. The mom talked to their three little children while this ritual went on. It is ironic that almost 30 years later several negotiations for my safety and travel arrangements were consummated by tea and cigarettes when I did independent journalism work in the Middle East.
This week's Wisconsin soldier to remember is Army Specialist Michael McGlothin, 21 of Milwaukee who was killed by an improvised explosive device Saturday, April 14, 2004 while on patrol outside Baghdad, Iraq. Specialist McGlothin had been in Iraq for less than a month at the time of his death. Michael was a 2000 Pulaski High School graduate. Specialist McGlothin was the 17th Wisconsin service member killed in Iraq. He was the first casualty in the Iraq war from Milwaukee. He was a member of the Army's 115th Forward Support Battalion, Division Support Command, 1st Cavalry Division. The unit is based out of Fort Hood, Texas. Michael enlisted in the Army in January 2002. According to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, McGlothin enjoyed history and social studies classes in high school, and hunting and fishing in his free time. He also played the guitar. He attended Hartford Union High School for his freshman and sophomore years, then moved to Milwaukee, and transferred to Pulaski for his final two years of school.
3,664 Americans have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.
27,104 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Iraq since Spring 2003.
78 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.
112 journalists (several nationalities) have been killed in Iraq since Spring 2003.
Soldier of the week, military casualty, and journalist casualty information sources: Committee to Protect Journalists; cnn.com; and, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.
