By graduation time I had had enough of school, I wanted to get on with my life. If there had been a way around it I would have skipped the ceremony. In addition to the penalties imposed by the University commissioning was to take place as part of the whole operation.

My Studebaker Lark was prepackaged with all my belongings and all of Pat’s. Memories of that day are hazy. The whole operation took place in the Armory, the only place on campus big enough for such an event. I seem to remember wearing my Navy Dress Whites (the ones with the high collar) under the cheep robes they had us rent. Before they let anyone leave they Commissioned all of the ROTC officers and we ran out or the building.

Before departing Iowa for the last time I had to make two stops. First I had to stop at the NROTC building to sign some papers making it all official. There is a tradition that the first enlisted man to salute a new officer receives a silver dollar as a thank you. We had been prepared, and sure enough, the Senior Chief Petty Officer was standing by the entrance to the building. He presented us each with a smartly executed salute for which each new Ensign happily rewarded him.

My second stop was at a little shop in Dog Town (a group of stores near campus – quite a way from downtown Ames). I had received a card to stop in for my prize and it was almost on the way back to my residence. It was a windbreaker, the first and last thing I have ever won in one of those store contests. I bet he wasn’t figuring on someone leaving town tow win. Pat and I got a lot of use out of that jacket over the years.

My shadow, Pat, and I jumped into the car and headed for her house in Delaware within less than an hour of graduation. Neither of us has been back to Ames since then. Not that we wouldn’t enjoy visiting the campus again, there was just never the combination of time and reason to get us back.

We headed for Delaware because one week from graduation we were to be married. Since it would take us two plus days to get there, Pat was not left with much time to prepare, or worry, for that matter. We did have a rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Other than that, the whole of the preparations was up to others. Late on the afternoon of June 3, 1967 we were united in marriage in a beautifully sunlit church in Wilmington. Pat wore a beautiful white gown, and I wore my Dress Whites with sword. My memories of the event are, I suppose, mostly those of the photographs, but I do remember leaving the church and fighting with my sword while getting into the limousine. We made our appearance at the reception and managed to totally exhaust ourselves before we were finally able to leave for a honeymoon.

Since the Lark was stuffed with everything that we both had in Iowa the remainder of Pat’s possessions and, of course, the wedding bootie had to go into a U-haul trailer. The joys of a honeymoon between college and your first paycheck rather limit your options. Fortunately, the second floor of the garage at my parent’s summerhouse was available.

As we were driving through Connecticut I threw another cigarette out the window. As we drove on we began to smell something burning. It didn’t take long to realize the smell was coming from inside the car rather than outside. Everything either of us owned was in that car or in the trailer. As I pulled over to the side of the road the smoke became obvious. We jumped out of the car and searched franticly. The car was a convertible and the smoke was coming from the boot area, where the roof stowed itself. Following the smoke I reached into the darkness and pulled out a smoldering rag, which promptly burst into flames. Evidently the cigarette that I threw out had not gone out the window but blown back into the boot and found a rag to ignite. Had the rag continued to burn we well might have lost everything on that highway in Connecticut. Now I know why they put the ashtray in the cars.

Since so many prospective aviators are commissioned in May it would overwhelm the Flight school to take them all at once. We were all assigned to various starting times and sent to temporary duty at bases around the country. My class would not start for three months after my honeymoon. I was assigned to Naval Air Station Glenview, Illinois.

One of our wedding gifts was from a former partner of my dad’s who now owned a Plymouth dealership. He sold us a brand new Plymouth Belvedere at cost and even took the Studibaker in trade.

Youthful ignorance is blissful. N.A.S. Glenview is just north of Chicago and Pat and I packed up our worldly goods in a trailer behind our brand new car and headed for Glenview. We had no place to live and no knowledge of the area, but we were off on a new life.

We arrived on Lake Shore Drive during morning rush hour. We drove around the area surrounding Glenview and, believe it or not, by evening had found two apartments that were willing to rent to us for three months. One was a basement for $200 per month and the other was a newer building with just 8 apartments in Evanston. For $185 per month this one offered a bedroom and a livingroom/kitchenette and was furnished, sparsely, but furnished with the necessities. Since I would be making $200 every two weeks this was about the limit of our budget.

For a short-term rental with no prior arrangements and not a clue about Chicago’s north side, we did pretty well for ourselves. If we had know more about how these things are supposed to be done, we might still be looking for a place to stay.

Being the good bride she decided to splurge one night and treat me to some broiled steaks which she managed to squeeze into our meager budget. Pat had always cooked on gas ranges and the stove oven in this apartment was electric. This, evidently, was a problem because as we sat waiting for them to be properly cooked, they burst into flames. There was no damage to the stove or anything except Pat’s pride. What was to be our first special meal in our first apartment ended in tears.

One of the major additions to the furnishing of our apartment was a bookshelf. Somewhere I had come across three ten foot long 1"x 10"s. I don’t really remember how I came across them but I suspect that they were not being well used somewhere and I somehow ended up with them. I do remember, quite clearly, that we went actively looking for cement blocks to turn the boards into shelves. I think it was in Skokie that we came across a set of blocks that would suit the purpose and were being inadequately supervised. The addition to our apartment was fantastic.

I t was raining the day I reported to my first duty station. One of the first things that happened was another Ensign pulled me aside and pointed out that I had worn the wrong size insignia on my raincoat. Off to a flying start after four years of training. Fortunately, I wasn’t wearing the raincoat when I reported to the commanding officer to report for duty. I was assigned to assist in the operations department. That department did a variety of things including parking and greeting arriving aircraft. In addition to becoming familiar with the day to day operations of a Naval Air Station my primary duty was to be on the apron to greet the pilots of incoming and outgoing visiting aircraft and insuring the pilots knew where various things were.

This was in the middle of our time in Vietnam and we had a weekly MedEvac flight that was meet with a parade of ambulances. Another regular visitor was a young astronaut who flew up from Texas just about every weekend. It was Eugene A Cernan who would always make a request for a special takeoff in his T-38. He wanted to perform a maximum performance take off which could interfere with traffic for O’Hare. The station tower would have to contact the civil air controllers at least a half hour before he left to clear the airspace over Glenview. When he was ready Captain Cernan would position his T-38 at the end of the runway apply his breaks and run his engines up to full military thrust (104% of the engine’s rated thrust). When he released his breaks he would zoom down the runway to take off speed, lift off about 5’’ and retract his landing gear while maintaining his altitude of just clear of the runway until he came to the end of the runway. Then he would pull into a vertical climb rolling around the axis of his climb as he went. It was an impressive way to leave an airport, and always drew a crowd.

I also got to observe the pride a Marine unit could demonstrate in their equipment. We had a Detachment of Marine Helicopters, one of which was designated as the General’s aircraft. This aircraft was maintained the same as every other helicopter mechanically, but its appearance is where their pride really showed. Quite literally, this aircraft shined with the equivalent of a spit-shined shoe. Its finish was polished every day and nothing was ever allowed to diminish the appearance.

I was also introduced to one of the other duties of an officer in the service. I was assigned to a burial detail for an officer who was killed in a plane crash. I was one of four officers assigned to act as pallbearers and to fold and present the flag which drapes the coffin just prior to interment.

One of the other routine duties of an officer assigned to shore duty is Command Duty Officer (CDO). The CDO represents the station during non-working hours. A non-commissioned officer assists him. In my case, a senior one who has had a lot of experience was assigned to my watch. All official business is channeled through the CDO office and responses are directed from there. There is a bunk near the office so that you are always immediately available and it doesn’t interfere with your normal workday. It was during one of these duty nights that I was introduced to a domestic violence call.

Domestic Violence is a delicate mater that requires rapid evaluation and response. In serious situations we would call upon the appropriate civilian police force. At the other extreme we could handle it by phone. In this case it was decided that a personal visit, by a representative of the base security detail, was in order. This is a dangerous situation since you only have the words of one of the involved parties to work with. There is no way to be sure that the situation will not escalate between the time you make the decision to handle it without the police and the arrival on the scene of the security forces. For that matter there is always the possibility that the arrival of security people might incite either or both parties. I was very happy to be assisted by an experienced Petty Officer who helped me make the right decisions that night. Generally we like to handle these problems within the service, but are ever mindful of our responsibility to the involved parties.

This was towards the end of the ‘60s and I was assigned to a group to take a survey of local real estate agents to find out how open they were to renting or selling properties to black service members. This was a very enlightening duty. It was amazing, to me, how many of these agents openly admitted that they would have trouble with even trying to find housing for people of color. Such was life in the suburbs of Chicago in 1967.

It was a fully packed three months and before we new it we found ourselves filling another U-haul trailer for the trip to Pensacola. Fortunately, we had not become any more enlightened as to the workings of real estate agents and our trip to Florida had every bit as much planning as that to Illinois.