Leaving Nebraska, and Home (updated)
I have always considered
high school to be the low point in my life.
Back then, I felt out-of-sync with the popular attitudes and interests
around me, a bit uncomfortable, and consequently I remained uninvolved. While a junior in high school, I joined the US Navy
Reserves, and Navy boot camp at Great Lakes was completed while still at Benson
High. However, when graduating from HS,
I was awarded both Regents and Engineering four-year scholarships from Nebraska University which
could easily pay for my degree, so I enrolled there that autumn instead of
entering active duty. I pledged a
fraternity, hoping to learn how to be “one of the guys”, but when offered
active status, I declined, never gaining a sense of brotherhood.
The path ahead, if I stayed at NU, seemed clear, but I questioned
whether it was the right one. Starting at age 5, I had spent every year thus far sitting in a classroom; it was starting to feel like confinement.... isolation from a much wider variety of experiences the world has to offer. An
introductory reading of “Atlas Shrugged” confirmed a different path for me. The author, Ayn Rand, emphasized that following your own values and
ambition is more important than heeding others’ advice and expectations. I decided that the security of familiar
surroundings wasn’t worth putting aside dreams. We each have our own path to follow; I needed to find mine.
Life at that age has a sense of immediacy;
current choices channel future directions, and not all we need to learn is in
textbooks. It was time to break away from the
expected. The second year at Nebraska U. was awkward; trying to stay focused on classes
while initiating withdrawal; an increasing sense of detachment with a weak
explanation of future plans. Giving up those scholarships. Switching from campus NROTC back to an enlisted Reserve unit. Recognizing I was an immature fool with nebulous intentions toward yet-to be-known
opportunities elsewhere, I looked forward to facing challenges by myself in a new environment. Time to grow up.
Active-Duty orders arrived for navigation school in San
Diego. It was liberating to be completely on my own in this new situation. No preconceptions or expectations to satisfy. I vowed no
daydreams, distractions or excuses from myself.
It would be a future of full commitment to my own choices. Dreams become achievable goals by recognizing
and pursuing the many small steps leading from one to the other. A start was to focus on my navigation class, competing
against others already with service in the fleet, and do my very best. It resulted in graduating #1 in class.
At one point we were anchored on a tributary, Song Soi Rap, in the Delta with a US Army artillery fire support base on the adjacent shore. The base was located at what had once been a French fort. In the distance we could see USAF planes dropping napalm. At night, you could watch the streams of tracers from overhead AC-130's equipped with Gatling-type mini-guns.
We were the "mother" repair ship for all the heavily armored Riverine landing craft and worked in coordination with the US Army 9th division.
Docked in San Francisco Bay, I was
assigned to the first green ship in the history of the US Navy. It was painted
green because we were headed to the Mekong Delta of Vietnam. After crossing the
Pacific, for the next year we were in the Delta servicing the Riverine Forces
and constantly shifting anchorages to avoid targeting. Signal watches, security watches (using a starlight scope) and navigation chores meant long hours on the ship's bridge deck. It also allowed me time to study the onboard selection of navigation texts. Periodically we would
resupply at Vung Tau and have a chance to enjoy the nearby beaches. During that
year I was promoted to become a supervising petty officer (E-5).
The highlight
of the year was a week of R&R in Japan where we enjoyed amazing hospitality: My friend Carl & I were invited by
Japanese college students to share their beer at a late-night party on Hayama Beach; we went
water skiing and to a music festival; I met a pretty girl, Tamea, at a dance who invited
us, with her female friend, for a scenic drive in their chauffeured vehicle. She introduced me to her Buddhist family (who had reserved one floor of the hotel there). Carl & I spent the next day with the girls and invited them for dinner. Tamea and I stayed in contact, and, when passing through Japan at the end of my first Vietnam tour, we were entertained at their impressive Tokyo home, treated to meals at
two of Tokyo’s finest restaurants, and provided a tour of downtown sights. (See developable-surface-boat-designs.blotspot.com/2015/10/ for more detail.)
Most of the Delta is low lying and flat, but in sections the banks are covered with dense, towering, jungle-like forest. Because sections were considered to be a free-fire zone, our ship was able to try out its 40mm quad gun mounts, and we watched the trunks of trees exploding as projectiles hit and tall trees toppled.
Myself (left) and my friend Carl (right) at Windy Beach. Carl had originally enrolled at the US Naval Academy, Annapolis. When he petitioned to withdraw, he was sent to Vietnam. He later graduated from medical school in Morelia, Mexico, (where Dawn & I visited him) and became a physician.
Rotated back to the States, the next
assignment was a destroyer at Long Beach readying for deployment, a return to
Vietnam. While becoming acquainted with new shipmates at Long Beach and spending weekends with friends living further north up the coast, I took some foolish risks and pushed my limits with a "live for today" attitude. It culminated in my falling asleep, while driving alone late at night, and totaling my car as it rolled over and over. Banged up shoulder, fluid in my lungs, broken glass in my hands, and a short LOC; but it could easily have been worse. Seat belts work. Back on the ship and again crossing the Pacific with refueling stops (Pearl Harbor, Midway,
Guam, Subic Bay), we were assigned to coastal fire support and, alternately,
guarding the aircraft carriers in the Gulf of Tonkin. At the end of my second
year, we cruised to Sasebo, Japan, for ship maintenance. From there I was flown
back to the States, released from active duty at Treasure Island, San Francisco, and immediately
got on a bus to start classes at UC Santa Barbara. My release was timed so that I arrived on campus one day prior to the start of my classes.
Although my parents were not happy
about it, I had already started the process to become a resident of California
and had been accepted at the University of California, Santa Barbara. The new
location seemed like heaven. The campus is located on the beach in this resort
area with mountains directly behind it. It had high academic standards in a
laid-back atmosphere. I joined the rowing club (with girl's auxiliary); took a tennis class and a
sailing class; and continued with engineering studies. Answering an ad "3
students need 4th to rent condo in Isla Vista" solved my housing
situation and introduced me to new friends. My transportation for the first four months, until granted CA resident tuition status, was an abandoned bicycle that I liberated and rehabilitated. With savings, GI bill, some
part-time jobs and summer engineering internships (Newport Beach '69, St. Paul,
MN. '70), it was affordable.
One boundary of the UC Santa Barbara campus is the ocean. If the tide was right, you could walk barefoot along the beach to your classes. We went an entire year without using heat or A/C; the climate is so mild.
However, there was trouble in
paradise. In 1969-70 the country was in turmoil, and it extended to our campus.
Riots (including many outside instigators) were extensive enough that hundreds
of police and National Guard troops were brought in. Buildings were torched,
windows smashed, looting & rock throwing (two died). And I met my future
wife. One night, many residents were on the roof deck of our apartment house
watching the conflict in the streets below. Someone made a comment about the "pigs"
roughing up the "students". A tall blonde spoke up, "Excuse me,
but the rioters down there are destroying property, breaking the law. The
police are simply enforcing laws and restoring order." Wow! I had to meet
this girl! Someone with a brain of her own, unafraid to challenge group think.
Someone, I learned, who would be a great partner in sharing this adventure we
call life.
Dawn & I went barefoot on the beach, read magazines at the newsstand or library, shared homemade ice cream with friends, hiked the foothill trails, rented sailboats at Santa Barbara harbor, played backyard volleyball; and discovered we enjoyed many of the same things and values. On one occasion, with two other couples, we laid out our sleeping bags on the open crest of the coastal mountain range and watched the sunset over the Pacific Ocean and the Channel Islands. The next morning, as the sun arose, we watched Santa Barbara come to life again; airport operations taking place almost 3000' below us. It was magical. This was the environment I was looking for when I left NU. I later visited Dawn at her home in Marin County, and she visited me at my summer 3M internship in Minnesota where we went canoeing and camping with another couple.
Dawn and I married in a small ceremony (which we paid for) shortly
after I had moved to Portland, Oregon and accepted a position in an engineering
management training program. Although my degree (cum laude) was in engineering,
I was looking at other avenues (I had already taken the GMAT for MBA
admissions). The program sensitized me to management styles and convinced me to
try to avoid a life of corporate politics. [Later I understood that such
politics are universal.] Dawn & I left Oregon at the end of a year and
traveled widely, coast to coast & Mexico to Canada, around the US for the next three months trying to decide where
to start next.
We ended up in the scenic wine country of
northern California. This time I had a construction engineering job. We bought
a 27' sailboat on SF Bay. I had dreamt of sailing around the world, with my
navigation skills and an interest in new places, but ultimately realized how
impractical it was: escapism versus facing career challenges. Another beautiful
location, but, at the end of a year, I was disgusted with the management of the
company. I was also disappointed with my opportunities as an engineer. Dawn suggested I look at other options. I quit; took pre-med courses at Sonoma State college and took a
part-time job as an airline agent at the Sonoma County airport.
In retrospect, the early 1970's was a time when demand for engineers was at its lowest point since the 1930's. In 1969, I had no trouble getting a summer internship in SoCal. In 1970, I traveled to Minnesota for an internship, and when I arrived at 3M, they had no new engineering projects and little work for me to do. When I graduated in '71, I was fortunate to be accepted for an opening in Oregon. The companies which had openings for engineers generally were companies with high employee turnover due to adverse management policies. I wasn't willing to wait until the job market improved.
1974:
We made a vacation out of moving from California to Omaha. This was
taken near Crater Lake, Oregon. We also visited the World's Fair in
Spokane that year.
Dawn picked my next career. I was
considering either going for a PhD in engineering to teach, or medical school because it seemed like a career path that offered
more autonomy; however, Dawn, working in the medical field, saw the long hours and significant divorce rate of physicians. She said, "Why don't you become a
dentist? They have more regular work hours as well as autonomy, and their divorce rate is lower." I was accepted at UC San Francisco dental school which was close
by and offered in-state tuition, but it would have required us to live in a
little downtown apartment in San Francisco for the next four years. Too much city.
Instead, we
moved to Omaha where I attended Creighton dental school, and we lived in our
own home in a beautiful neighborhood just north of Memorial Park. While at
Creighton, military recruiters came by seeking to sign up dentists. My initial
reaction was that I had already been in the military, and it wasn't all that
much fun. Dawn pointed out, "Being an officer in the medical field is not
the same as being an enlisted man in Vietnam. This could be our chance to have
dental training paid for, live/serve overseas for a few years to fulfill
payback, and then set up a practice wherever we want." I applied and received
a US Army Health Professions Scholarship. With dental training paid for (and Dawn's medical job), we
were able to buy our home & a new car, have our son, and take vacations to
Mexico and Hawaii.
The nearest ski slope in Nebraska may be a cornfield. We were visiting Eric Eggen at his farm location.
Upon graduation, I reported to Texas
for basic officer training and then to Columbia, South Carolina, for a one-year
internship to train us to function in all aspects of dentistry in remote
locations without specialist support. It was a great professional experience,
and we loved South Carolina. Our daughter was born there; our son took his
first steps on the beach at Charleston. At completion, we were sent to the Atlantic
coast of Panama, a jungle training base. Panama was an amazing experience. (see Our Panama Adventure, posted April 2021 on this blog for more detail)
Upon arrival in Panama, the US Army provided a concrete shell of a home on elevated columns to keep it above the bugs and 140" of annual rainfall. We had to buy and install our own air conditioners (3: upstairs, downstairs, and storage room). I screened in a play area between the bottom level columns. Dawn bought carpets for the linoleum floors and added all the details that make a house into a home. We had to share our home with cockroaches which were resistant to any poison and could exist by eating the glue off labels or cardboard boxes. (Air Force quarters came with central A/C and tile floors.)
The US-supported Panama Canal Company was going out of business, and the canal itself was being ceded to Panama, controlled by the dictator Noriega, when we arrived. Being located on Lake Gatun and near the ocean, I designed and built a boat shortly after arrival which served us well for our 3-year tour. I was able to buy some marine plywood before the Canal stores closed. Everything else came from a local lumber source or by shipment from the US. The peacock bass fishing in Lake Gatun is excellent, and the boat also transported us to remote snorkeling and picnic sites.
We
lived surrounded by jungle and exotic fauna. We harvested bananas and coconuts
in our yard; observed parrots and monkeys in the trees. We had a maid; went
snorkeling every week; sailed to remote bays and offshore islands; hiked in the
triple canopy jungle; visited abandoned ruins of Spanish forts. We experienced
the transition as the Canal Zone was turned over to Panama. Professionally, I wrote dental articles for the Southern Command newspaper and participated in the Transisthmian 50-mile running race (with a 10-member dental team). I also volunteered for medical missions to our embassies in Bogota, Caracas, and Santo Domingo.
All US Army HQ and major functions were on the Pacific coast. The Southern Command News put out a solicitation for articles of a medical and dental nature for its readers. No dentists were interested in getting involved. In our little remote clinic on the Atlantic coast, the center for jungle training, I heard about this opportunity and thought it would be a good forum to answer the questions that my patients often asked of me. After I submitted a series of four articles which were all published, suddenly I was accused of "hogging" this opportunity! From being uninterested, now my fellow dentists had become jealous! Politics are universal.
And we traveled:
Costa Rica, Columbia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Dominican Republic, & San Blas
Islands. I also served as navigator bringing a friend's yacht from Miami to
Colon, Panama, with stops in Mexico and Honduras (see the Sept. 2019 entry in this blog)). It was a real adventure described separately. The clinic building where I
had worked, located on Lake Gatun, is now renovated as part of a resort hotel. We inquired about staying a fourth year, but the Army had already decided my next assignment.
We were headed to Huntsville,
Alabama. At first the Army wanted us to live on base in a 1,000 sq. ft. 'cracker box'. They threatened to take away our housing allowance if I didn't cooperate. When I explained to the deputy base commander that such an action would highly encourage me to leave the Army, they relented, and we found a home in an excellent neighborhood off base. Our new neighbors welcomed us with prepared food and inquiries into which church we planned to attend.
It was a good experience with excellent schools, a sense of
neighborliness, and well-organized youth sports leagues. It is a center for the
high-tech US Space Program. I was looking at private practice in South Carolina
where I had obtained a state dental license after previously flying from Panama to Charleston to
take the state exam. When Dawn accompanied me to look at a practice in Greenville I was
considering, her reaction was, "I don't want to live in one place
for the next twenty-plus years." She had developed a liking for the variety and
travel of the military lifestyle. I had been lackadaisical about military
matters, but, from that point, I started saluting more often and considering
what was needed to get promoted. I needed to build my military resume. First
was an unaccompanied Army Staff course in Kansas. Second was an advanced residency in
Monterey, California.
We spent three years at Monterey; the
goal was preparation for National Board certification. The residency training
was intense, both academic and clinical. In the civilian world, National Board certification is unimportant; complicated treatments can easily be referred to a nearby specialist. In the military system, well-qualified dentists are needed in areas where timely referrals to specialists are not easily obtained. Smaller clinics where I served (most of my assignments) had few or no specialists stationed there. Preparation for the National Board of Comprehensive Dentistry includes advanced training in oral surgery, periodontics, endodontics, pediatrics, prosthodontics, and even some orthodontics. Each resident was required to produce a research paper or literature review as well as several lectures. My research project was later published.
While at Monterey, I also started Command &
General Staff College by correspondence. I went through Combat Casualty Care
training in Texas and passed arduous field testing for the Expert Field Medical Badge,
normally awarded to infantry medics. We did get to take the family to Hawaii
for a week at the mid-point in training. I also coached an AYSO soccer team (I had been an assistant coach back in Alabama). After graduation, Dawn completed
selling our home while I went ahead to Germany and located a townhouse for us
in the small town of Elsenfeld.
Next on my to-do list was to gain
clinic management experience. Director of Dental Services at a base in northern
Bavaria proved to be the toughest assignment of my career. We were short staffed
with some inexperienced staff, bad actors, and an incompetent senior NCO.
Dental HQ provided no support; I was on my own dealing with personnel issues
except for JAG consultation. My clinic was the most distant from regional dental HQ and was located in a different military district from HQ; thus, any problems with dental services in my clinic would not reflect back directly to my boss but be reported elsewhere. Thus, I got the 'crumbs' from dental HQ. I was finishing Command & General Staff College
(with honors). My written and oral National Board exams were scheduled (passed
after flying to Texas for the four-day oral exam while fending off jetlag). We were also subject to two major clinic inspections during my time there.
If I reported a concern to my commander before it became a problem, he would say, "Look, everything is being taken care of. You are getting the job done." If I waited until the concern became a problem, then he would say, "Why didn't you bring this to my attention sooner?" Either way, he escaped responsibility for any action. When I created a chart showing that our clinic was the most understaffed of any clinic in the region, the only reaction was the enmity of my commander for revealing the disparity. I had to choose between supporting our patients or supporting my commander.
Vacation time was spent studying
for the Boards. I was additionally in charge of a 54-unit military housing area and a member
of the base Commander's staff and Family Advocacy Case Management Team. My car
was totaled on the autobahn in a multi-vehicle accident while on my way to a
conference (rear-ended by a BMW when I braked to avoid a sudden mix-up ahead). I was unhurt (although my passenger got whiplash); the designed "crumple zones" on the car
absorbed the impact, and I still was able to give my scheduled lecture at the conference.
Desert Storm happened. I was
training for field deployment myself in case the conflict was prolonged. We worked
long hours to ensure that deploying troops had no developing dental
problems. We needed to re-examine each of the thousands of troops deploying because many of their records contained falsified dental fitness data. 12-hour days and 7 days per week. Under field conditions, simmering problems become debilitating emergencies in remote locations. Base security and the families became our concern once military service members were deployed. Armored units from our community were in the spearhead of the invasion.
My regional dental commander, after failing to provide support, tried to extend
my tour there.
In his mind, my job was to make him look good. Frequently, clinic chiefs did that by falsifying productivity* which I refused to do. In my mind, patient welfare came first, and his job was to support our clinic. It led to some confrontation (with my boss!). Our evening walks in the Spessart woods preserved my sanity. This was the point of maximum stress in my career.
*[ I could write many pages on the myriad problems encountered at this assignment and other assignments. The system was often corrupt, abetted by many individuals with a "go along to get along" attitude rather than doing the harder job of doing what is right. One example: Falsifying productivity came in three forms: 1) Taking credit for more treatment for a patient than was actually performed: credit for work not done. 2) Listing the patient as being in good dental health when, in fact, conditions were present that were very likely to become future serious problems; thus, delaying difficult treatment but increasing future emergencies. 3) Including records of past patients, who had separated from service or been transferred, as part of the active patient roster, inflating the perceived need for more staff and budget. When I took over this clinic in Germany and discovered that productivity had been falsified, I informed my commander, and he ordered me NOT change the numbers to increase accuracy; it would reflect badly on him. My predecessor, responsible for the false reports, was promoted and given a staff job working for the general. This was just one of many problems I had to deal with; personnel were an even greater issue (immaturity, inexperience, infidelity, incompetence, and even professional malpractice), but that would take pages to explain.]
The
Iron Curtain / Berlin Wall fell. Dawn was able to visit Prague both before and
after the Iron Curtain was eliminated. During her initial visit, she noted that no one spoke in the streets; everyone was being watched. Afterwards, the streets were a celebration. When Dawn heard that the Berlin Wall was coming down, she took our children out of school and drove to Berlin, although still forced to stop at East German guard posts to show passports. She and our children have historic memories of being
in Berlin celebrating with the crowds and chipping souvenir chunks of concrete from the Wall as it was toppled.
Dawn and I both enjoyed fast cars on the autobahn. My replacement car was a US-built Ford SHO (purchased with a telephone call to the US and shipped to Hamburg) with speed-rated tires, disc brakes, a firm suspension and a high-revving Yamaha-built engine which would take it to almost 140 mph. Many German vehicles are geared to go fast, but this was geared low enough that it could maintain such speeds while going uphill. It was not uncommon for German cars to challenge this red US-built car on the autobahn. On a trip to an appointment in Frankfurt, I set the cruise control at 120mph for much of the distance. At that speed, even gentle curves feel tight. Once, I was passed by a guy on a motorcycle at 130mph with his girlfriend clinging behind! Dawn drove it to Prague and back with friends for shopping bargains (porcelain & crystal) instead of driving her Scorpio.
My other thrill was a course I took in hang gliding and paragliding. I attended with a fellow Army officer. All flights were solo. Paragliding is the safer, more popular option and uses less equipment. The banana-shaped canopy is controlled by flaps with control lines. Weather and wind currents were also stressed in our instruction. Our final exam was to launch from atop a ski slope, glide down an alpine mountain to the town of Garmisch, turn to face upwind, float over the stadium walls, and land inside the winter Olympic stadium. What an amazing bird-like sensation! Our hang-gliding instruction was limited to reduced-wing-surface-area gliders so that we didn't soar too far above the slopes. They were more dangerous due to higher speeds achieved. Unfortunately, I was too busy to follow up on these sports.
I survived that assignment and gladly
moved to the southern Netherlands. We rented a nice home in the small town of Hulsberg. The new clinic and community were much
better. I received vastly better command support. [example: I received a budget of $500 for civilian staff bonuses instead of the measly $150 at my previous assignment.] My Dutch staff members were a
joy to work with. We had a Mercedes bus, equipped as a mobile clinic, which we
used to visit remote supply sites throughout the Netherlands. Occasionally, I would also see patients at our US clinic in Brussels when their staff was occupied elsewhere.
Our clinic received an
award for being the most outstanding Army clinic of its size group in Europe. What a great clinic staff; so superior to my previous clinic! At the award ceremony, my previous dental commander from Germany shook my hand, saying that I had
learned it all under his command. I replied, "When you learn to accomplish
the mission without support, it is easy to excel when you are provided HQ
support." Yes, I was bitter. Our children attended an international
school. We visited Dublin, Dubrovnik, Athens, Tunisia, as well as the central
European countries. Re-visiting beautiful Dubrovnik was the main goal of a
recent European vacation.
The family agreed; it was time to
come home to the US. Our children were becoming young adults. They were in/entering high
school, a time for lasting bonding with friends. Dawn flew to the US, scouting ahead, and bought a new home being built in a forested golf-course subdivision slightly south of Richmond,
Virginia. I had another
challenging assignment. Promotion to Colonel would be highly competitive. I
became the base oral surgeon in charge of the hospital dental clinic. In a
poorly justified Army decision, the Fort Lee medical staff was being reduced; the hospital was scaled back to a mere clinic. The base commanding general was furious when he belatedly was informed of the planned reduction in services.
As
other dentists left, I assumed their responsibilities (supply, pharmacy,
enlisted evaluations, contracting, etc.) and made myself indispensable. The
promotion to Colonel was awarded. I assumed command of the reduced dental unit
but with no reduction in the population served. The previous clinic commander never saw any patients; instead spending his entire day on "administrative" duties, pushing paper and creating projects for the remainder of the staff to complete. When I took over, I was able to take care of all administration in two hours per day; devoting the other six hours to continued patient treatment.
The workload was heavy; we
served many thousands of logistics trainees annually in addition to base personnel. As
soon as we treated severe dental conditions in one group of trainees, they
departed, and we started over with a new group. I once did 126 exams in one day; for tooth extractions I averaged seeing a patient every 30 minutes. Dedicated staff members were
getting burned out. Two good staff dentists quit the Army and dentistry; one to
become a chef, the other a real estate agent.
My previous senior commander from the
Netherlands/Belgium was now in charge of the Washington, DC, area, and it was
time for me to move. He wanted me in DC; so, I went to Walter Reed Hospital. DC
is not family friendly; Dawn and our children stayed in southern Virginia. I
had an apartment and got home on most weekends; leaving later in the evening after rush hour, it was still a 140-mile "stock car race" in heavy traffic south on I-95 Friday nights in my SHO. Dawn had her own successful Pampered Chef
business and earned us trips to Florida and Hawaii.
When I first arrived at Walter Reed, the dental clinic had a policy for after-hours emergency call in which junior officers served more often and less so for higher ranks. I changed that; because we all were being paid for our dental skills, I announced that all dentists, including myself, would serve on the emergency call roster equally. A 'game' that some officers had played was to put in for leave (vacation time) when it was their turn for a week of emergency call. Then their name would move to the bottom of the list, and they avoided call. I changed that also: if they put in for leave, their name stayed at the top of the list and emergency call would be served as soon as they returned. The changes were well-received when staff dentists realized that by sharing equally, they would each be on call only 2-3 weeks per year. The new policy especially improved the morale of the younger, junior dentists.
In a large metropolitan area, each week of emergency call could be quite demanding. You had to be ready to report to the emergency station within 30 minutes whenever called, even if that meant sleeping at the hospital. Once, I came in at 2:00 AM to find three patients, all in pain, waiting to be seen. I will never forget once arriving at an ER in the early hours to see a patient who had been in a serious head-on car accident where he "kissed" the steering wheel (drunk and speeding). His face had ripped to where it was a bit of a jigsaw puzzle with bone exposed. His upper lip could be lifted over his eyes. First, I had to determine where the torn sections of his lips fit together (nasal intubation was used). Start by suturing the underlying connective tissue. While I sutured his face back together, two physicians were frantically opening his chest (separating ribs) to allow his heart to beat normally (cardiac tamponade).
While at Walter Reed, a staff oral surgeon and myself showed veterinarians how to extract teeth and do root canal therapy on research monkeys. With their large, sharp fangs, the monkeys would try to bite their handlers, and they often are carriers of a rare form of hepatitis for which humans have no resistance; rapidly fatal if contracted. We gowned, double gloved, masked, wore eye shields, and put on paper hats until no part of our body was exposed. Those monkey fangs are almost twice the size of our human equivalent. Once we had the teeth out, the veterinarians asked, "Can you show us something easier?" We then showed them how to cut the teeth off and perform root canal therapy on the remaining tooth structure.
I participated in a memorable and uplifting activity early one Saturday morning when all US Army dental personnel in the DC area assembled at Fort Myer for a unit run. In formation and cadence and singing Jody calls, we left Fort Myer, passed Arlington National Cemetery, crossed the Potomac, ran past the Lincoln Memorial, and jogged on across the National Mall until we reached the Washington Monument. All ranks, races, and genders (2), moving in cohesion, all voices calling out in joy and confidence; what a great sense of unity and purpose! I felt like we could keep running for many more miles; however, breakfast was ready and waiting at the Monument. Our service members demonstrate more respect, discipline, and commitment by far than most civilians. They are my favorite patients.
Walter Reed is a unique
assignment. We saw politicians, generals, heads of foreign countries, evacuees
from foreign terrorist incidents as well as typical patients. General Alexander Haig was a patient of mine. We had a large
staff (20+ dentists) with every specialty including an oral surgery training
program, oral pathologist, and maxillo-facial prosthodontist (replacing eyes, noses, ears, as well as teeth and jaws). Very interesting and high-profile place, but not the type of life I
wanted to live for an extended period. After two years I requested another
assignment; a position where more free time would be available to plan retirement.
At the annual national US Army Dental Corps dinner, I was awarded the Order of Military Medical Merit, presented to four senior dentists each year (out of about 1500 total Army dentists) for their career contributions and achievements. Being at Walter Reed provided the visibility necessary to put me in consideration for this award. Candidates are first recommended, then they are asked to submit a resume including community activities, and finally the winners are chosen by Dental Corps senior leaders. Most of my career had been in smaller, more remote clinics where you would never receive this attention.
Dawn & I moved to Fort Drum on the Canadian
border in the Thousand Islands region of New York State. We had a little farmhouse in the woods; at mornings deer would be grazing on our forested lawn. Our home had previously been the commanding general's residence until they moved him to a more central location. The rocky Black River was nearby. In winter we could cross-country ski from our
back door along a nature trail. In summer, we could rent an 18' inboard boat and explore the many islands in the St. Lawrence seaway and even have lunch at Gananoque on the Canadian shore. Ottawa and Kingston were also nearby for visits.
Our dental personnel held an enjoyable unit day trip to Lake Placid for snow skiing. My impression was that the runs are narrow and icy, not nearly as good as the slopes in Colorado. Routinely, Dawn & I skied at a much closer but smaller ski area. Fort Drum is a rapid deployment infantry base with high fitness standards. When the base commanding general scheduled a formation run around the developed base area for all units, I was selected to lead all dental personnel because I was the only Colonel (O-6) who routinely ran PT with the fastest run group.
I was no longer in charge of a clinic, and we
took the opportunity to travel widely across the US, including both coasts, and look for our future
home. We stood atop the World Trade Center in Manhattan, then returned only a few months later (with our children) to view 9/11's devastation. I attended the initial planning meeting
for 10th Mountain Division's deployment to Afghanistan but knew this time I
would not be involved. My active military service was about to end. We had
enjoyed many regions of our country; it was time to pick one as home.
Viewing the devastation of Sept. 11, 2001, in New York city. Having visited the Trade Towers recently, I knew immediately when first reported that this disaster was no accident.
Again, Dawn came through; she had
been researching on the internet and made a trip to Colorado Springs by herself
(while I visited my hospitalized father). Although we had never previously
lived in Colorado, it has become our new home. We have lived in four homes in
the Colorado Springs area during the twenty-two years we have been here. We designed
and helped build two of them; I acted as our own General Contractor on our
current home; two were temporary rentals. Re-decorating and re-landscaping have
been longtime hobbies for us with every move. For the past 18 years, until retirement in May 2021, I enjoyed working part-time at Peterson AFB dental clinic.
Thoughts remembered:
I remember the example set by my
parents: two farm kids who grew up in the Depression, were separated by
military service in WWII, and based on their strong values, belief in each
other, and their shared hard work, built a lifetime marriage & family.
I remember, when questioning my
presence at Nebraska University, reading the opening section of Atlas Shrugged
(never finished) by Ayn Rand whose message to me was that pursuing my own
priorities and capabilities was more important than accepting the campus
zeitgeist, being part of any group, staying with the familiar.
I remember crossing the Pacific by
air, returning from Vietnam, and thinking of people I had seen there, good
people struggling at an uncertain existence in a war-torn country; then, at the
end of a long flight, looking down through the evening sky at the bright lights
of coastal California and really appreciating how fortunate I was to be in a
land with so many opportunities awaiting.
From that point onward (now shared with Dawn) my resolution has been to unhesitatingly pursue the life I want (not chasing others' expectations), making no excuses, ignoring naysayers, accepting challenges, and minimizing any regrets. Today comes but once. I was a dreamer in high school; not knowing who I was; trying to be like my friends. Life is a process of learning and becoming; dreams evolve to plans, then to realization, while facing the challenges of new situations along the way. We learn, grow, and find meaning as we explore the world around us.
posted by Wayne | 9:01 PM
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