The sixties took me from age twelve to age twenty-two, from 6th grade to a senior in college, from single to married, from a kid to a parent. Probably more happened in that ten years than any other ten-year period in my life.
I was never a stellar student but was positively influenced by my parents, my sisters, and some of those around me. Even in the worst of times I was annoyingly positive and naïve. Neither attribute causes people to take you very seriously; at least until they know you better.
The country was in great turmoil much of the time. Somehow I decided I was a Republican. I don’t know why because my parents weren’t and did not get actively involved in politics. I joined the campaign of a candidate for county supervisor. He was victorious and defeated a candidate who had held the seat for many years.
I got involved in Bob Ray’s run for the Governor. Soon, I found myself as county chairman for his campaign. We had fun and he won the election easily. During the process I got in on a lot of back room politics. I had honestly believed that these people had the best interests of the state in mind. I soon realized that was secondary to power. Bob Ray was a nice person. I can’t say that for many of the other people involved in the campaign.
The whole thing soured me on politics and the Republicans. For years after that I was not tied to any political party and didn’t trust those who were. Having seen it from the inside I was disgusted with the motives and behavior of those involved. I have always been embarrassed that I was part of it.
In order to graduate from Iowa Wesleyan College I needed to do a Responsible Social Involvement (RSI) project. Every student had to do something. It involved putting in forty hours doing something to help others and then writing it all up in a paper. My involvement in politics didn’t count. I guess they didn’t think it was responsible or social.
My project involved teaching remedial reading to struggling students at Lincoln Elementary School. I went there for two hours a day for about six weeks. It really cut into my work time but I really didn’t have a choice. I had to do something and it was the only thing that I could come up with.
I worked with licensed reading teachers and learned a lot from them. I was able to use much of what I had learned when I became a teacher myself. I think I actually helped some kids and so it was a positive thing for me.
This is the last piece I will write about the sixties for a while. There are many other stories to tell about that time in my life but they will have to wait. The next 52 pieces will be about the seventies. There is a lot to tell about those days as well.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
The First Moon Walk
Conspiracy theories about the assassination of President Kennedy, his brother Bobby, and Martin Luther King abound. Add to those the theory that the moon landing never happened. Some actually believe it was a Hollywood type production to fool the American people. I think it really happened and it will happen again.
On July 20, 1969 Terry Conrad and I watched the first moon walk on television. Terry came over to our house and we watched it until about 2:00 in the morning. Becky wasn’t very happy because the noise of the TV and our excitement kept her up, too.
The lunar module landed on the moon late that afternoon. About six hours later Neil Armstrong climbed down the ladder and set foot on the moon. When he stepped on the moon he said, “That’s one small step for (a) man, one giant leap for mankind.” The first bit of controversy was whether he included that “a” that is in parenthesis in that sentence. It has a slightly different meaning if it is there.
Neil Armstrong has always claimed he included it. Sophisticated technical analysis recently has indicated it is there on the tapes but not loud enough to be heard under regular conditions. I think it is finally settled but at the time there was considerable amount of discussion about it. It was just one word and a one-letter word at that. I don’t know why they didn’t believe Armstrong in the first place?
Along with Armstrong in the lunar module Eagle was Edward “Buzz” Aldrin. He joined Armstrong on the surface a short time later and together they spent two and a half hours drilling core samples, taking pictures and collecting rocks. We were spell bound as we watched. Nothing would ever be quite the same after seeing the Earth from another surface in space.
A third astronaut, Michael Collins controlled the command module Columbia that orbited the Moon while the other two took their space walk. Armstrong and Aldrin spent less than 24 hours on the Moon’s surface. The Eagle docked with the Columbia and they headed back for Earth. The Earth averages about 238855 miles from Earth. They traveled at about 25,000 miles per hour on their trip back. It took them about nine hours to get back into the Earth’s orbit.
Thanks to television we could witness this event along with millions of others across the globe. In a difficult time, the nation took great pride in this accomplishment. We had beaten the Russians, our cold war enemy, to the Moon. In the process knowledge in technology, human health, and outer space had grown immensely. For the first time the Soviet Union blinked and I believe that was the beginning of the end for their empire. The country broke apart in less than twenty years.
I have to be honest and say that I had a bad habit of staying up until all hours watching things like the moonwalk or political conventions. It wasn’t considerate of Becky and thinking back on it I was pretty selfish in doing it because if I was up Becky couldn’t sleep. While I am glad I saw things like that I regret the discomfort I caused Becky and probably Angie, too.
On July 20, 1969 Terry Conrad and I watched the first moon walk on television. Terry came over to our house and we watched it until about 2:00 in the morning. Becky wasn’t very happy because the noise of the TV and our excitement kept her up, too.
The lunar module landed on the moon late that afternoon. About six hours later Neil Armstrong climbed down the ladder and set foot on the moon. When he stepped on the moon he said, “That’s one small step for (a) man, one giant leap for mankind.” The first bit of controversy was whether he included that “a” that is in parenthesis in that sentence. It has a slightly different meaning if it is there.
Neil Armstrong has always claimed he included it. Sophisticated technical analysis recently has indicated it is there on the tapes but not loud enough to be heard under regular conditions. I think it is finally settled but at the time there was considerable amount of discussion about it. It was just one word and a one-letter word at that. I don’t know why they didn’t believe Armstrong in the first place?
Along with Armstrong in the lunar module Eagle was Edward “Buzz” Aldrin. He joined Armstrong on the surface a short time later and together they spent two and a half hours drilling core samples, taking pictures and collecting rocks. We were spell bound as we watched. Nothing would ever be quite the same after seeing the Earth from another surface in space.
A third astronaut, Michael Collins controlled the command module Columbia that orbited the Moon while the other two took their space walk. Armstrong and Aldrin spent less than 24 hours on the Moon’s surface. The Eagle docked with the Columbia and they headed back for Earth. The Earth averages about 238855 miles from Earth. They traveled at about 25,000 miles per hour on their trip back. It took them about nine hours to get back into the Earth’s orbit.
Thanks to television we could witness this event along with millions of others across the globe. In a difficult time, the nation took great pride in this accomplishment. We had beaten the Russians, our cold war enemy, to the Moon. In the process knowledge in technology, human health, and outer space had grown immensely. For the first time the Soviet Union blinked and I believe that was the beginning of the end for their empire. The country broke apart in less than twenty years.
I have to be honest and say that I had a bad habit of staying up until all hours watching things like the moonwalk or political conventions. It wasn’t considerate of Becky and thinking back on it I was pretty selfish in doing it because if I was up Becky couldn’t sleep. While I am glad I saw things like that I regret the discomfort I caused Becky and probably Angie, too.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Heady Days
The late sixties was an unusual time! Young men were going off to war while others protested in the streets. War protests happened on the University of Iowa campus. There were a few small demonstrations at Iowa Wesleyan. At the same time African Americans were demanding fair treatment and equal opportunity. The drug culture flourished and hippies grew long hair and wore strange clothing. Becky and I really didn’t get into those things but knew many who did. We didn’t get into drugs either but saw them take over the lives of some.
I was a member of the Henry County Rescue Squad that was turned into the Police Reserve. We trained with Sergeant Roy Eubanks of the Iowa Highway Patrol. He trained us in defense techniques in hand-to-hand combat and with the baton. We were transformed into a Riot Squad with the black helmets, mace, shields and the baton. The baton was a 20-inch long club. I still have it.
The fear was that the unrest at Iowa Wesleyan would get out of control so we were trained to be mobilized if that were to occur. This was a lot more than I had bargained for and it made me very uncomfortable. Rescuing someone was quite a bit different than clubbing one of my friends on campus.
Then on the evening of April 4, 1968, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated. He had been standing on the balcony of a motel in Memphis when James Earl Ray shot him. The irony of it wasn’t lost. A man who had devoted his life to equality and peace died a victim of horrendous violence. Immediately people began to wonder whether this would spark further violence. There were riots in some places but many who followed Reverend King kept to his precepts of non-violence.
Locally, we wondered how you could hate or fear someone so much that you would resort to killing him or her. We lived in a sheltered and safe world and couldn’t imagine what this killer was thinking. The police reserve was placed on alert for a short time but were never called out.
Then on the 5th of June 1968, 12:15am, Senator Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated after winning the California presidential primary. He was shot by a Palestinian Arab, Sirhan Sirhan who also shot and wounded five others. Sirhan is still in prison in California. Kennedy had been a popular candidate and now had met the same fate as his brother.
Two murders of national figures in less than three months made everyone anxious. We wondered what would happen next. The war, civil rights, the draft were heavy on the minds of most people in those days.
That summer a local African American boy who had served in Viet Nam was denied entrance to the local American Legion Club. A small protest was set up in front of the club, which was kitty corner from City Hall. The Police Reserve was mobilized. We entered the City Hall and gathered in a second floor office area. In the room there were about 20 police reserve members, the Chief of Police and four policemen, the County Sheriff and two deputies, and seven highway patrolmen. We could see the demonstrators, mostly white friends of mine, through the blinds.
Several in the room thought we should march on the group and force them to disperse. The mayor arrived and, after an animated discussion with the commanding Sergeant of the highway patrol, cooler heads prevailed. It ended simply by the Sergeant walking by himself out into the street and asking the protestors to leave. After some discussion they did and we all went home. I was relieved that it was settled so peacefully.
I was a member of the Henry County Rescue Squad that was turned into the Police Reserve. We trained with Sergeant Roy Eubanks of the Iowa Highway Patrol. He trained us in defense techniques in hand-to-hand combat and with the baton. We were transformed into a Riot Squad with the black helmets, mace, shields and the baton. The baton was a 20-inch long club. I still have it.
The fear was that the unrest at Iowa Wesleyan would get out of control so we were trained to be mobilized if that were to occur. This was a lot more than I had bargained for and it made me very uncomfortable. Rescuing someone was quite a bit different than clubbing one of my friends on campus.
Then on the evening of April 4, 1968, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated. He had been standing on the balcony of a motel in Memphis when James Earl Ray shot him. The irony of it wasn’t lost. A man who had devoted his life to equality and peace died a victim of horrendous violence. Immediately people began to wonder whether this would spark further violence. There were riots in some places but many who followed Reverend King kept to his precepts of non-violence.
Locally, we wondered how you could hate or fear someone so much that you would resort to killing him or her. We lived in a sheltered and safe world and couldn’t imagine what this killer was thinking. The police reserve was placed on alert for a short time but were never called out.
Then on the 5th of June 1968, 12:15am, Senator Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated after winning the California presidential primary. He was shot by a Palestinian Arab, Sirhan Sirhan who also shot and wounded five others. Sirhan is still in prison in California. Kennedy had been a popular candidate and now had met the same fate as his brother.
Two murders of national figures in less than three months made everyone anxious. We wondered what would happen next. The war, civil rights, the draft were heavy on the minds of most people in those days.
That summer a local African American boy who had served in Viet Nam was denied entrance to the local American Legion Club. A small protest was set up in front of the club, which was kitty corner from City Hall. The Police Reserve was mobilized. We entered the City Hall and gathered in a second floor office area. In the room there were about 20 police reserve members, the Chief of Police and four policemen, the County Sheriff and two deputies, and seven highway patrolmen. We could see the demonstrators, mostly white friends of mine, through the blinds.
Several in the room thought we should march on the group and force them to disperse. The mayor arrived and, after an animated discussion with the commanding Sergeant of the highway patrol, cooler heads prevailed. It ended simply by the Sergeant walking by himself out into the street and asking the protestors to leave. After some discussion they did and we all went home. I was relieved that it was settled so peacefully.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Speeding Ticket
My family and friends have made fun of me from time to time because I drive the speed limit. It doesn’t really bother me too much. My Dad was the same way so I guess I take after him in that respect.
I did get a speeding ticket once. That was all it took for me to learn my lesson. The consequence of that incident was severe! I was driving 88 miles per hour in a 55 mile per hour zone.
It was a sunny but cool Thursday morning in November of 1969. I had a morning class at Southeastern Community College in Burlington by 10:30 I was headed back to Mt. Pleasant to go to work at the print shop. Coming out of Middletown I fell in behind a woman driving about 45 miles per hour. I swung my White Dodge Dart convertible out to pass her and she sped up. Annoyed I pulled back into the westbound lane. She slowed down and I pulled out again. She sped up. I was getting mad! This happened several times and finally, timing it just right, I pulled out to pass her. She sped up again and we were going side by side down the highway. I floored the Dart and was up well over 90 miles per hour. After getting around the other car I slowed down to 55, the speed limit.
As I neared Danville I could see something going on. There was a guy standing out in the middle of the westbound lane. When I got closer I realized there was a highway patrol car on the right shoulder and the guy in the road was a patrolman.
The conversation was short! He said I was going 88 miles per hour. That was 33 miles per hour over the speed limit. They had caught me with the airplane. He wrote me a ticket and I took it and thanked him. I don’t know why?
When I told my friends about it they told me I was in big trouble. Not only would I have a big fine, but also I would lose my license for at least 180 days and have to file an SR22 form and buy high-risk car insurance. I was devastated! I didn’t have the money to pay the fine much less afford the insurance. How would I get to school without a license? Becky was disgusted with me when I told her about it.
I took my checkbook when I went to the Des Moines County courthouse to appear before the judge. It was short but not so sweet. The fine was sixty dollars plus costs. The total was seventy-seven dollars. That was more than a weeks pay for Becky and I. I went to the clerk and asked if they would take a check. She said “no” and said I could have 60 minutes to come up with the cash.
I went to a bank in downtown Burlington and waited in line for what seemed like twenty minutes. At last when I got to the teller I asked to cash a check. She said I had to have an account in the bank or at least know someone there. My first piece of luck came when the teller two windows down said, “Hi Perry! What are you doing here?” She was married to someone I knew in Mt. Pleasant. I cashed the check and made it back to the courthouse in time.
The clerk took my money and said I would be receiving a letter with an order to surrender my driver’s license and car license plates. That letter came about two weeks later. At the bottom of the letter it said I could request a hearing with the highway patrol if I wanted to appeal the suspension.
After talking to friends on the police department they said I didn’t have much of a chance. They said the hearing officer was Sergeant Steffins of the Highway Patrol and he was as tough as they come. I had to try it, so I officially made the request.
Sergeant Steffins met with me at the City Hall in Mt. Pleasant. His office was on the second floor. He gave me the most thorough chewing I have ever had! He said, “ What makes you think you are any different than anyone else?” I tried to make a case for a struggling college student with a young family to support.
He, at last, very reluctantly agreed to restrict my license to driving to school and work but I would still have to have the high-risk insurance. He asked me when my classes were and he wrote it down. Then I gave him my work schedule for Glanzman Printing Company. He wrote that down, too. Then I gave him my schedule for working at the Mental Health Institute. He started to write it down and then stopped and asked what the weather was like the day I was speeding. I told him it was sunny and clear. No ice or snow.
He looked down at his desk a long time and finally looked at me and said, “Ok, I’m going to check on the weather and road conditions. If you are lying to me this deal is off. I am going to rescind the suspension order.” I thanked him and left the building as quickly as possible.
I couldn’t believe it! No suspension, no high risk insurance! Luck was with me! When I told my friends of my luck they were speechless. They couldn’t believe I had gotten off so easily. Even thinking back on it now I can’t believe I got off with just the fine.
I did get a speeding ticket once. That was all it took for me to learn my lesson. The consequence of that incident was severe! I was driving 88 miles per hour in a 55 mile per hour zone.
It was a sunny but cool Thursday morning in November of 1969. I had a morning class at Southeastern Community College in Burlington by 10:30 I was headed back to Mt. Pleasant to go to work at the print shop. Coming out of Middletown I fell in behind a woman driving about 45 miles per hour. I swung my White Dodge Dart convertible out to pass her and she sped up. Annoyed I pulled back into the westbound lane. She slowed down and I pulled out again. She sped up. I was getting mad! This happened several times and finally, timing it just right, I pulled out to pass her. She sped up again and we were going side by side down the highway. I floored the Dart and was up well over 90 miles per hour. After getting around the other car I slowed down to 55, the speed limit.
As I neared Danville I could see something going on. There was a guy standing out in the middle of the westbound lane. When I got closer I realized there was a highway patrol car on the right shoulder and the guy in the road was a patrolman.
The conversation was short! He said I was going 88 miles per hour. That was 33 miles per hour over the speed limit. They had caught me with the airplane. He wrote me a ticket and I took it and thanked him. I don’t know why?
When I told my friends about it they told me I was in big trouble. Not only would I have a big fine, but also I would lose my license for at least 180 days and have to file an SR22 form and buy high-risk car insurance. I was devastated! I didn’t have the money to pay the fine much less afford the insurance. How would I get to school without a license? Becky was disgusted with me when I told her about it.
I took my checkbook when I went to the Des Moines County courthouse to appear before the judge. It was short but not so sweet. The fine was sixty dollars plus costs. The total was seventy-seven dollars. That was more than a weeks pay for Becky and I. I went to the clerk and asked if they would take a check. She said “no” and said I could have 60 minutes to come up with the cash.
I went to a bank in downtown Burlington and waited in line for what seemed like twenty minutes. At last when I got to the teller I asked to cash a check. She said I had to have an account in the bank or at least know someone there. My first piece of luck came when the teller two windows down said, “Hi Perry! What are you doing here?” She was married to someone I knew in Mt. Pleasant. I cashed the check and made it back to the courthouse in time.
The clerk took my money and said I would be receiving a letter with an order to surrender my driver’s license and car license plates. That letter came about two weeks later. At the bottom of the letter it said I could request a hearing with the highway patrol if I wanted to appeal the suspension.
After talking to friends on the police department they said I didn’t have much of a chance. They said the hearing officer was Sergeant Steffins of the Highway Patrol and he was as tough as they come. I had to try it, so I officially made the request.
Sergeant Steffins met with me at the City Hall in Mt. Pleasant. His office was on the second floor. He gave me the most thorough chewing I have ever had! He said, “ What makes you think you are any different than anyone else?” I tried to make a case for a struggling college student with a young family to support.
He, at last, very reluctantly agreed to restrict my license to driving to school and work but I would still have to have the high-risk insurance. He asked me when my classes were and he wrote it down. Then I gave him my work schedule for Glanzman Printing Company. He wrote that down, too. Then I gave him my schedule for working at the Mental Health Institute. He started to write it down and then stopped and asked what the weather was like the day I was speeding. I told him it was sunny and clear. No ice or snow.
He looked down at his desk a long time and finally looked at me and said, “Ok, I’m going to check on the weather and road conditions. If you are lying to me this deal is off. I am going to rescind the suspension order.” I thanked him and left the building as quickly as possible.
I couldn’t believe it! No suspension, no high risk insurance! Luck was with me! When I told my friends of my luck they were speechless. They couldn’t believe I had gotten off so easily. Even thinking back on it now I can’t believe I got off with just the fine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)