Life wasn't always as comfortable as it is today, what with indoor plumbing and water piped into the house. Being born in a little town called Dallas, Texas in 1930, our home, mind you, was probably a great experience for my parents. But luxuries were dreams for the Hale family. Noble (my father) was the son of a grocer and I was the first of three sons. My recollections of early youth, growing up in Dallas, included outdoor “privys” which were common in Dallas even as late as the bombing of Pearl Harbor in December 1941. And, of course the many other things we take for granted today were missing.
Shortly after Pearl Harbor, my father lost his $15 a week milk-delivering job in Dallas. We became almost destitute and moved to East Texas to live with my grandparents. While there, I became interested in watching the Texas State Guard go through their monthly routine and began to fantasize about being in combat and becoming a war hero. At the same time ('42-'43), I was a barefoot boy, avidly collecting any kind of metal, rubber or paper to turn-in to support the war effort. I was so patriotic!
Later, when my Mom was working in the shipyard in Orange, Texas, I was dead set on joining the 82nd Airborne at the age of 15 (1945). She was horrified and wouldn't lie for me and refused to sign the papers.
Woe is me! I reluctantly continued school, graduating in May 1948. I vowed to never attend another day of school in my life.
In August 1948, I began 13 weeks of USAF Basic Training. Having a desire to get as far away from home as possible -- I was on the road! I finished basic with one stripe and was assigned to Cable Splicing School at Scott AFB, Illinois. What the hell is cable splicing? Well, it turned out to be on cable systems that make the world able to communicate with lightning speed. Upon graduation, I was assigned as an instructor, then in Jan 1950 I received orders to go to Misawa AFB, Japan. Returning to the U.S. in Oct 1952, I was assigned to the 4th Communication Construction Squadron at Robins AFB, Georgia. I must have been there for at least three days when my first TDY orders were issued. Then, for 10 years, I was continually on TDY. I had married, had one son and a daughter. I finally took them on several TDY trips (unauthorized), or else I would have been with my family very little. What a shock lay ahead for me -- son number two arrived while we were in Florida on TDY and my next assignment.
OCS was quite an experience for me! Not willingly, but with great precision my physical body and my voice collaborated in helping me to become the Saturday morning "Ramp Champ" of 6th Squadron, Foxtrot. I lost my voice for more than two weeks, and wasn’t able to make the overhead lamp globes ring when I called, "Rooooooom Attention." My voice wasn’t all that I lost. I lost numerous demerit slips --- in fact I was often out of stock and owed one or more of the "Gentlemen" a slip. Then, added to my problems, my physical weight began to change on a daily basis. I could not keep my tailoring of uniforms up to date -- to the prescribed standards of OCS. Emotionally I was stable, always thinking to myself, “Hey guy, I'm as tough as you are!”
I did spend about $1200 trying to keep my uniforms tailored, but the old body would not cooperate. The first class took delight in asking for my demerit slips. Consequently, I almost wore a cow path in the sidewalk where I walked Saturday morning tours on the ramp. .
Even my knee-length socks that we wore with short trousers would not stay up because of my weight loss. Many times a first classman would yell at me, "Mr Hale - At Ease -- Socks, Attention."
The "crowning glory" on two occasions occurred when marching down one of the streets. Short pants and tall socks were the uniform of the day. I was one of the two road guards. Upon being dispatched (posted), I went to the proper post position to stop auto traffic. And, cars were stopped in front of me. Then it happened! My socks settled around my ankles and I felt a cool breeze in my private male area. Horror overcame me just as the squadron was reaching my position. Here I had stopped a car wearing a two-star flag, my socks were at my ankles and my fly zipper was wide open. As a relatively new second classman, I was in internal turmoil. My immediate reaction was that I came to attention, did a proper about face maneuver, zipped up my pants and pulled up my socks, resumed myself to attention and did another about face movement then assumed the parade rest stance. I observed a smile on the driver's face and heard loud laughter from the marching troops.
|
After I had rejoined the marching troops we were stopped by a member of our first class and a demerit slip was required from each person for falling apart - actions unbecoming an officer candidate. Naturally -- that slip put me back on the ramp.
The second instance was a mirror image except the auto facing me was loaded with a family of tourists and we lost no demerits this time. I couldn't cry and there was no hole in the ground to disappear into. But believe me, I bought some new socks and paid more attention to my zipper, even when I was in a hurry to dress. Ultimately, I became one sharp looking Jose!
I was privileged to attend five months plus one week of Officer Candidate School with all its continual delightful surprises. I did miss the last three fun weeks and graduation because of the "ingenious T-Score" rating deficiency of one (1) point on two phase exams. Two Yale grads and one Harvard grad candidates set the mark each month and a lot of good men were wasted as a result. How unfortunate.
In 1962, I retrained into the computer maintenance field (with help from Georgia Senator Talmadge). In 1968, I worked for NORAD as Maintenance Control Supervisor and then as Computer Maintenance Superintendent. I had about three hundred maintenance technicians in the overall scheme. The mission of NORAD is surveillance and air protection of the North American continent, so you can see we took the job pretty seriously.
Everything was hunky-dory for me and the family until December 31, 1969. I was at a friend’s house, and walked into a room where handguns were being shown. Unfortunately, an "unloaded pistol" (with nine rounds in the cylinder) was discharged, hitting me mid-shaft on the left femur. Subsequently, I lay in bed in weighted traction for eight months. Wow! What an experience! I was up for promotion to E-9 but was turned down because of a pending disability retirement. I finally received a disability retirement as a Senior Master Sergeant with twenty-five years service.
After retirement to the TDRL roles, we, as a family, drove to Arkansas, bought an old farm -- cleaned it up and built a nice two-story home. The forty acres with thirty cows I was raising really kept us busy!
Around 1973, the VA rehab unit in Little Rock asked me to visit their office. They bugged me until I agreed to return to school. No matter that I had attended college night classes for eleven years, collecting enough credits for three years of college. They talked me into starting from scratch. I went two years to a local community college and graduated, then began a full academic load at the University of Arkansas for a degree in industrial engineering. I had started in mechanical plus electrical engineering but after visiting several engineering companies, I decided manufacturing engineering was a better option. After four years at the University of Arkansas I graduated, just four months before my fiftieth birthday. ‘Twas a great feeling!
My first job was with a metal manufacturing company in Fort Smith as a manufacturing engineer. However, I made a mistake and agreed to help a friend begin a new company about the same time industrial money began to dry up and I found myself unemployed for about two years. I then traveled to Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center area where I had worked all through the 50's. I lucked out and got a job offer. After a round trip to Arkansas I began a new career. I was eventually asked to be the supervisor of an engineering department. I worked there for several years.
So, after another ten years, I returned to our farm in Arkansas. My wife, Ruby had made the remark, "Let's go home while we still have a little zip left". But after we got home, I kind of wondered where the zip went.
My children have made me proud of them. Son #1, at 6"7" tall, is a football coach in our local high school. My daughter is a law clerk in a local international law firm. Son #2 is a marine biologist and after 3 1/2 years on Midway Island as a resident biologist, is now in Olympia, Washington. Grandchildren are three fine ladies, ages 20, 21, and 22.
The highlights of my life include the military service, marriage, children, attendance at OCS, the two year hospital event, engineering school, and working as an engineer in a second career at the Kennedy Space Center.
Respectfully,
Ace G. Hale
|
Send E-Mail to: dnagel@cox.net