EXCERPT
THIS EXCERPT IS THE FIRST THREE PAGES OF MY BOOK. IN THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS THE
BOOK CONTINUES WITH MY INVOLVEMENT IN FLYING, THE HEARTACHE OF LOOSING TWO OF MY
CHILDREN AND THEN TAKING YOU ON SOME OF THE MANY CHARTERS I SO ENJOYED IN MY WORK.
BOOK CONTINUES WITH MY INVOLVEMENT IN FLYING, THE HEARTACHE OF LOOSING TWO OF MY
CHILDREN AND THEN TAKING YOU ON SOME OF THE MANY CHARTERS I SO ENJOYED IN MY WORK.
Photo of my dear friend, Charles Hummel, showing the old barn where I spent most of
my time playing cowboys and indians using rubber guns (shooting rubber bands)while
growing up as a boy near Forreston, Texas. If I wasn't out hunting rabbits, you could
always find me here. Our house (which burned down long ago) sat to the right of the
old barn. It was in this barn my Dad accidently shot me in the ankle (with my own 22
rifle) which I tell about in my book which Charles is holding. Charles made a special trip
from Round Rock, Texas to get this photo for me. Thank you Mr. Hummel.
I would also like to say Charles's Dad, Gordon Hummel, drove for Greyhound and
worked with me in Division 6. I knew him as a fellow driver and our paths crossed
several times. Gordon is now deceased, along with so many of my large Greyhound
family. Charles lived in Livermore, CA but moved to Round Rock, Texas in 2006.
MY HOME--------MY FLAG
Chapter 1
A DREAM THAT GREW TO REALITY
On April 14, 1924, Dad made a fast trip to town in the old Model T to get the doctor, but when they returned it was too late. I
had already arrived in this world.
I grew up on a little farm near Forreston, Texas. We lived quite a distance from our nearest neighbor so I had very few
friends during the early part of my life. My dog, Sport, was my closest and truest friend, and I never ventured away from
home without him at my side.
My dad bought a twenty-two rifle for me and taught me to hunt at the age of six. A rifle is a dangerous weapon in the hands
of most minors, but after Dad showed me what damage the rifle would do, and my nearly shooting my dog, I never forgot
about gun safety.
Old Sport and I spent many memorable days hunting rabbits and exploring the countryside. No closer friend and guardian
can you have than a dog. I was never drowning, and old Sport never had to jump in and help pull me out, but I know he
would have been there, had the occasion ever arisen. He seemed to know and understand when I needed help and he
some how communicated with me. I will never forget my dog and the good times we had growing up together. He was like a
brother to me. He disappeared one day and I never knew what happened to him. He had been in a fight with another dog
and received a severe injury to his head. The injury became infected and old Sport was looking very bad the last few days
of his life. I am not sure but I think my dad shot him to put him out of his misery and buried him before I came home from
school.
During the Depression I kept my family supplied with fresh rabbits and squirrels. I was also the meat supplier for several
families that lived in town.
No one had much money to spend those days but my family was blessed because we lived on a farm. My mother canned
several hundred quarts of veggies that we grew in our huge garden each year. We never went hungry at any time because
we had chickens, cows, fresh pork and beef when we needed it. We had no money, to speak of, but our need for cash was
very small.
I would shell a gunnysack of corn every Saturday morning and we would take it with us when we went into town. We dropped
the corn off at the mill and then when we were ready to leave town for home, we would go by the mill and pick up the freshly
ground corn meal. The mill kept a portion of the corn for their fee for grinding it, so there was never any money exchanged.
Even during those years my dad could always come up with a quarter for me on Saturday. I would then go to the Strand
Theater and spend the afternoon watching a western movie. The movie cost me a dime and a bag of popcorn was only a
nickel. After the show I would go off the main street into an alley to Hap’s hamburger stand. There I could get the best
hamburger I have ever tasted for another nickel, and a soda with my last nickel. That would take care of my quarter and I
was ready to go home.
It was at Hap’s Hamburger Stand that I learned the difference between a co-cola and an orange crush. When Hap was there
I would ask for a hamburger and a co-cola. Hap would cook my hamburger and then ask me what kind of co-cola I wanted. I
would say an orange crush or a grape. He knew I didn’t want a Coca-cola. One day Hap was sick and when I came to the
stand I told the man I wanted a hamburger and a Co-cola. He made my hamburger and then grabbed a bottle of coke and
snapped the lid off and set it upon the counter. I stood looking at the coke and the man said, “That will be ten cents.” I said,
“I didn’t want that kind of coke. I wanted an orange coke.” The man very patiently explained that coke only made that one
drink. If I wanted an orange drink I should have said I wanted an orange drink. I ended up having to drink the coke and it
kept coming out my nose and eyes. I could not handle a coke, besides there was only six ounces in a bottle of coke. This
little Texan was a fast learner and I have never forgotten since, to say what kind of (co-cola) I wanted.
I was soon in the business of making my own money by selling rabbits to several families in town. I sold them for ten cents a
piece or three for a quarter. My business soon grew and it required that I go hunting every day to keep up with the demand
for rabbits. There always seemed to be an endless supply of rabbits in my area and always a family to buy them.
I always had change in my pockets from then on so I never had to ask my dad for any more money. I could buy a box of fifty
22 shorts at the Western Auto store for nine cents and I never was one to go around shooting tin cans so my bullets lasted
me a long time.
During these times while out hunting or just outside the house, I would hear, on occasion, an airplane flying overhead. This
was in the early 1930`s and commercial aviation was just getting started. I would cease doing what ever I was doing at the
time and sit down and watch the plane until it was completely out of sight. I would then sit and ponder the miracle of flight.
How can anything this large go flying through the sky?
At this time I had never seen a plane on the ground and had no idea of how it could fly through the air. An airplane was so
fascinating to watch that I never failed to freeze up when I heard one. I would search the sky until I spotted it and my eyes
would be glued to it until it was out of sight. Nothing in my life had ever intrigued me like the thought of an airplane. I grew
more excited every time I saw one fly overhead and I knew I had to learn more about them.
My school class was planning a field trip to Dallas, Texas and we were going to visit the Brown Cracker and Candy Company
and then go to Love Field. I could hardly sleep at night, because I was so excited knowing I was going to get to see an
airplane up close. Time dragged on but the big day finally arrived and we-----------
A DREAM THAT GREW TO REALITY
On April 14, 1924, Dad made a fast trip to town in the old Model T to get the doctor, but when they returned it was too late. I
had already arrived in this world.
I grew up on a little farm near Forreston, Texas. We lived quite a distance from our nearest neighbor so I had very few
friends during the early part of my life. My dog, Sport, was my closest and truest friend, and I never ventured away from
home without him at my side.
My dad bought a twenty-two rifle for me and taught me to hunt at the age of six. A rifle is a dangerous weapon in the hands
of most minors, but after Dad showed me what damage the rifle would do, and my nearly shooting my dog, I never forgot
about gun safety.
Old Sport and I spent many memorable days hunting rabbits and exploring the countryside. No closer friend and guardian
can you have than a dog. I was never drowning, and old Sport never had to jump in and help pull me out, but I know he
would have been there, had the occasion ever arisen. He seemed to know and understand when I needed help and he
some how communicated with me. I will never forget my dog and the good times we had growing up together. He was like a
brother to me. He disappeared one day and I never knew what happened to him. He had been in a fight with another dog
and received a severe injury to his head. The injury became infected and old Sport was looking very bad the last few days
of his life. I am not sure but I think my dad shot him to put him out of his misery and buried him before I came home from
school.
During the Depression I kept my family supplied with fresh rabbits and squirrels. I was also the meat supplier for several
families that lived in town.
No one had much money to spend those days but my family was blessed because we lived on a farm. My mother canned
several hundred quarts of veggies that we grew in our huge garden each year. We never went hungry at any time because
we had chickens, cows, fresh pork and beef when we needed it. We had no money, to speak of, but our need for cash was
very small.
I would shell a gunnysack of corn every Saturday morning and we would take it with us when we went into town. We dropped
the corn off at the mill and then when we were ready to leave town for home, we would go by the mill and pick up the freshly
ground corn meal. The mill kept a portion of the corn for their fee for grinding it, so there was never any money exchanged.
Even during those years my dad could always come up with a quarter for me on Saturday. I would then go to the Strand
Theater and spend the afternoon watching a western movie. The movie cost me a dime and a bag of popcorn was only a
nickel. After the show I would go off the main street into an alley to Hap’s hamburger stand. There I could get the best
hamburger I have ever tasted for another nickel, and a soda with my last nickel. That would take care of my quarter and I
was ready to go home.
It was at Hap’s Hamburger Stand that I learned the difference between a co-cola and an orange crush. When Hap was there
I would ask for a hamburger and a co-cola. Hap would cook my hamburger and then ask me what kind of co-cola I wanted. I
would say an orange crush or a grape. He knew I didn’t want a Coca-cola. One day Hap was sick and when I came to the
stand I told the man I wanted a hamburger and a Co-cola. He made my hamburger and then grabbed a bottle of coke and
snapped the lid off and set it upon the counter. I stood looking at the coke and the man said, “That will be ten cents.” I said,
“I didn’t want that kind of coke. I wanted an orange coke.” The man very patiently explained that coke only made that one
drink. If I wanted an orange drink I should have said I wanted an orange drink. I ended up having to drink the coke and it
kept coming out my nose and eyes. I could not handle a coke, besides there was only six ounces in a bottle of coke. This
little Texan was a fast learner and I have never forgotten since, to say what kind of (co-cola) I wanted.
I was soon in the business of making my own money by selling rabbits to several families in town. I sold them for ten cents a
piece or three for a quarter. My business soon grew and it required that I go hunting every day to keep up with the demand
for rabbits. There always seemed to be an endless supply of rabbits in my area and always a family to buy them.
I always had change in my pockets from then on so I never had to ask my dad for any more money. I could buy a box of fifty
22 shorts at the Western Auto store for nine cents and I never was one to go around shooting tin cans so my bullets lasted
me a long time.
During these times while out hunting or just outside the house, I would hear, on occasion, an airplane flying overhead. This
was in the early 1930`s and commercial aviation was just getting started. I would cease doing what ever I was doing at the
time and sit down and watch the plane until it was completely out of sight. I would then sit and ponder the miracle of flight.
How can anything this large go flying through the sky?
At this time I had never seen a plane on the ground and had no idea of how it could fly through the air. An airplane was so
fascinating to watch that I never failed to freeze up when I heard one. I would search the sky until I spotted it and my eyes
would be glued to it until it was out of sight. Nothing in my life had ever intrigued me like the thought of an airplane. I grew
more excited every time I saw one fly overhead and I knew I had to learn more about them.
My school class was planning a field trip to Dallas, Texas and we were going to visit the Brown Cracker and Candy Company
and then go to Love Field. I could hardly sleep at night, because I was so excited knowing I was going to get to see an
airplane up close. Time dragged on but the big day finally arrived and we-----------
SO THAT IS HOW MY LIFE BEGAN AND IT TAKES YOU THROUGH MANY DAYS OF JOY AND HAPPINESS AND
THROUGH SOME PERIODS OF TRAGEDY I WOULD RATHER FORGET.
THROUGH SOME PERIODS OF TRAGEDY I WOULD RATHER FORGET.
When we went on strike in '83, the Hospital in Modesto was unable to get Mother's milk from San Jose as it was being
shipped via Greyhound. We heard of this problem and I volunteered to fly over to San Jose to pickup the milk and
deliver it to the Hospital in Modesto. Greyhound baggage men delivered the milk to the airport and I brought it to
Modesto. Hoot Hildreth is shown taking the milk from me in Modesto and delivering it to the Hospital. We then went on
call and delivered the milk every time it was needed. The Stockton drivers chipped in and paid for the fuel I used.
shipped via Greyhound. We heard of this problem and I volunteered to fly over to San Jose to pickup the milk and
deliver it to the Hospital in Modesto. Greyhound baggage men delivered the milk to the airport and I brought it to
Modesto. Hoot Hildreth is shown taking the milk from me in Modesto and delivering it to the Hospital. We then went on
call and delivered the milk every time it was needed. The Stockton drivers chipped in and paid for the fuel I used.