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Thoughtful job tips thoughtlessly ignored - Date with fate post 73
This entry was posted on 11/9/2011 1:30 AM and is filed under Fate Fairies.
I had only been out of the Army a week or so. I arrived home around the first week in November. The corn was being picked. The weather was getting cold. The fall leaves were well on their way to covering the ground. But, one day, I remember walking down the sidewalk in downtown Whitewater with only a sweatshirt and jeans. It was a cloudy but nice November day.
Along came an old classmate named Carl. He was a personable fellow who had been a year behind me in school. His father ran a funeral home in town. Ol' Carl picked up his calm demeanor no-doubt from always being around grieving families. You never know what someone else has just experienced and flippant comments could be taken wrong. It would take me another 20 years to pick up on this life's nuance.
None-the-less, there was Ol' Carl before me on the sidewalk.
"Bob, your home. I hope you are ok," Carl said and he had that perennial likable smile on his face.
I just smiled, and mumbled something probably like, "How ya doing man?"
Years later I would ponder Carl's response as both civic and thoughtful. Here he was confronted with a Veteran. It was incumbent on him he must have figured, to offer some help on my return. This was rare after 'Nam. Years later during Iraq and Afghanistan this culture would be resurrected on a national scale. But in that era when Carl breached the collective norm of fashionably hating the military, and offered a tip, I was of course, completely aloof.
"I know old Johnson outside of town needs a couple guys to help with his big corn operation," Carl said with a pleasant smile. "You are just what he needs. Doing anything yet since you been home? Ol' Johnson keeps asking my dad if he knows anyone because Dad knows everyone in the region."
I am not sure what my total mindset was that moment, but I am guessing a dash of pride set in.
"Oh, yeah Carl, I got a couple gigs going on, but thanks anyway," I lied.
Carl smiled, turned and headed on his way. After a few steps he turned and said, "Think about it Bob, I mean it, he'd love to have a guy like you."
I took the few steps up the sidewalk; just enough steps necessary to enter the Woodshed Tavern.
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Not too long after my encounter with Carl, the Wisconsin snow began to fly. One cold day a neighbor came to call on my dad. Dad was on the Township Board. The neighbor was a guy with the first name of Glenn and he lived on a farm down a mile driveway. There was a lot of farms like that in Lima Township - too many to count.
Mr. Glenn, I will call him, did not farm anymore, but the buildings were all still there. I remember riding the school bus down the long driveway to pick up his kids - a couple of which were my classmates. Mr. Glenn now worked in construction for the State of Wisconsin. Back in the 1970s, the State was in its heyday of building and expanding just about every thing it managed. The economy was in a shambles but the State was a coveted safe haven for work.
It did not dawn on me until much later that Mr. Glenn did not want to see my dad at all. Mr. Glenn, I have a hunch had made up an issue to actually hunt me down via my dad.
Dad hollered up to my room and said, "Mr. Glenn wants a word with you." I remember thinking how odd, I had never talked to the man in my life.
There on the snowy steps, in fur-collared parka, winter boots, and wool cap, stood Mr. Glenn.
"Stop by the office at Old World Wisconsin, and ask for me. We are refurbishing many of the old buildings there," he said and in his farmer way, turned and trudged down the snowy sidewalk to his pickup truck.
I returned to my warm room complete with, television, stereo with head phones, and mini-refrigerator..., stocked with beer.
A few years later I was driving school bus - a thankless and poorly paid job - and I had taken a group of grade school kids to Old World Wisconsin. It is a complex just east of Whitewater that is a museum of sorts with old authentic buildings from by-gone eras. There, working on a Norwegian grass-and-reed-roofed house was Ol' Mr. Glenn and his crew. There was about a dozen of them; they looked content in their task, and they looked well taken care of.
I crawled back up into my bus driver's seat and had a good reflective moment with my pea brain.
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Just before the Christmas holiday break at the college and only a few weeks after my return from the Army, I was of course..., in one of a couple dozen taverns in Whitewater. It was Thursday night - the big college drinking night as most students that lived on campus traveled back to their homes on Friday afternoon after class.
In one such college ginmill a hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder.
"Bob, I am so glad to find you," said a classmate named Dean.
He was a thin kid and back in high school, I had demolished him in an intramural wrestling tournament. But now Dean was in college in town, had joined ROTC, and had become a Lieutenant in the local National Guard unit.
"Bob, I need a Sergeant that has actually been in the military and been overseas. My guys are all college guys and dumber than shit. Stop by the office and I will have you reactivated and promoted faster than flies on shit," Dean said and patted me on the shoulder.
I was taken aback for a second. Wrong timing, wrong place; I was looking at college girls. That night, it was a putpourri of tight butts and perky breasts. I had already drank my share of domestic beverage - and it went down like water after drinking German beer for three years.
From somewhere came the diatribe. I did not even bother to say, "Hi, good to see you again, Dean."
But I did tell Dean to stick his promotion and his goddamned Army up his skinny ass. The friend I had come with stepped between us and said, "God damn it Bob, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Although only twenty, Lieutenant Dean had apparently picked up some psychology and people skills along the way.
"That's alright Chuck, Bob just needs to get resettled back home. You be sure and call me after you get to feeling comfortable," Lieutenant Dean said. Then he smiled a cautious smile.
"Fuck the mother fuck'n Army," I said.
It was the last time I ever saw Dean.
Note: This blog "Fate Fairies" Category does not list the brushes with fate chronologically - I write about the experiences as they pop up in my memory and I often revisit an older event. Go to the Cooldadiomedia Web site and the Fate Fairies Page for an ordered chronology.
Wisconsin Military Service Person Special Mention of the Week
(each week Cooldadiomedia mentions a Wisconsin service person killed in Iraq or Afghanistan)
Army Sergeant Garrick Louis Eppinger Jr., 25, Appleton, Wisconsin, died on Saturday, September 17, 2011 in Parwan Province, Afghanistan. He was killed as a result of a non-combat weapon injury. Sergeant Eppinger was assigned to the the 395th Ordnance Company, 687th Combat Sustainment Support Brigade, 646th Regional Support Group, 310th Expeditionary Sustainment Command, Army Reserve, out of Wausau, Wisconsin. Sergeant Eppinger also did work out of the Appleton, Wisconsin reserve center.
The Manitowoc Herald Times Reporter noted both Eppinger's parents are Navy veterans. Sergeant Eppinger was on his third overseas deployment. He had previously served in Iraq in 2005 and 2009. In his current assignment he was among more than 100 Army Reservists from the Appleton-based 395th Ordnance Company that first went to Fort Hood, Texas, in July of 2011 for training before deploying to Afghanistan. The Herald Times went on to mention Eppinger was a 2004 graduate of Appleton North High School in Appleton, Wisconsin; he was the youngest of five children; and, he had four sisters. He joined the Army after graduating from high school.
The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel said Sergeant Eppinger was stationed near Bagram Air Field, a large military base near Afghanistan's capital city of Kabul. He had arrived in-country in early August 2011. The Journal Sentinel went on to say Garrick had been a member of the debate team In high school; he also had worked at Mark's East Side restaurant in Appleton. After his active military tours of duty he returned to his home in the Fox Valley region of Wisconsin and joined the reserves. He was studying political science and business at Fox Valley Technical College and worked at a convenience store when his unit was called up for deployment to Afghanistan.
The Web site legacy.com posted an obituary from the Post Crescent about Garrick Eppinger which stated he was born on August 9, 1986 in Portsmouth, Virginia. His family later moved to Appleton, Wisconsin. He had been a student at the University of Wisconsin - Fox Valley. The Green Bay Press Gazette noted Eppinger was a Staff Sergeant. He liked cheesecake and collecting 50-cent pieces. At the time of his death he was working as a supply specialist for a munitions post. Some of Sergeant Eppinger's military medals include the Army Commendation Medal; NATO Medal; Afghanistan Campaign Medal; and, Global War on Terrorism Service Medal.
At the time of his death Sergeant Garrick Eppinger was survived by his daughter Lenorea Rose Eppinger; his parents Garrick Sr. and Linda Eppinger; his grandparents Richard and Burma Castle; his grandmother Arvonne Jakobsen; his sisters Shandra L. Smith, Cori Reichwaldt, Robbyn (Chad) Stanley, and, Amy (Jeff) Strong; his nieces and nephews, Bryan, Melissa, and Joshua Smith, Evelynn Strong, and Christopher Stanley; and, great-nephew Kaden Smith.
Army Sergeant Garrick Eppinger Jr. was the 35th Wisconsin military service person killed in the war in Afghanistan since October of 2001.
As of this blog entry's posting date:
103,260 Iraqi civilians have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003 (actually documented).
10,125 Iraqi Security Forces have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
4,485 Americans have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
1824 Americans have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
318 Coalition soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
962 Coalition soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
1 American/Coalition casualty in Libyan "Operation Odyssey Dawn" since March, 2011.
32,224 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
592 Wisconsin military service persons have been wounded in Iraq since Spring 2003.
14,733 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
192 Wisconsin military service persons have been wounded in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
107 Wisconsin military service persons have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
36 Wisconsin military service persons have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
3 Wisconsin military service persons have been killed in the U.S. related to "The War on Terror" since September, 2001.
150 journalists (several nationalities) have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
22 journalists (various nationalities) have been killed in Afghanistan since September, 2001.
5 journalists (regional and independents) have been killed in Libya since March, 2011.
Wisconsin military service person special mention of the week, military casualty, and journalist casualty information sources: Committee to Protect Journalists; cnn.com; Milwaukee Journal Sentinel; washingtonpost.com; thehighground.org; Wisconsin Department of Veterans Affairs; iraqbodycount.org; www.defense.gov/news/casualty.pdf; and, icasualties.org .
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