Appian Way - #3

Appian Way - The Plan

We checked in at the headquarters building where we were to begin the re-write of the defense plan of Liverno. The commanding officer, an LTC, was on leave so I sought out the first sergeant.

He did not look like a first sergeant, more like Homer Simpson. He was waiting for his admin personnel to return from their morning run. His job I figured was to fix coffee and get the doughnuts ready, which both were in ample supply.

His office was a mess. Field gear was piled in a corner, he was waring sweat pants, and a T-shirt adorned with a picture of Elvis.

We were offered coffee and doughnuts. He asked what he could do for us. I suggested he could show me to a work area and provide us with the current defense plan. No problem he said.

He took us down the hall to a large room, punched in a security code, and asked if the room seemed adequate. It had all the necessary things: pencils, chairs, tables, paper, television, couch, easy chair, coffee pot and of course doughnuts. In the corner was a file drawer with the words secret written in red across the front. The drawer was already pulled out.

He retrieved the appropriate file. I asked for the combination to the file and a sign in/out sheet. He said the combination lock was not working but he was not concerned if they had an inspection because he had a work order on file. As far as the sign in/out sheet went, they never used one. He did give me the door combination however. It was nice to be trusted.

I took the folder and read through the plan while my men watched Italian television, drank coffee, and of course ate doughnuts. It took me about thirty minutes to read the plan and hand out to my little band of brothers the parts they were responsible for reviewing and suggest changes. It was getting close to lunch and I did not want to leave the plan in the room, so I put it in my brief case and headed to the mess hall.

Two hours past lunch my guys had made their recommendations on unit assignment, re-deployments, and calculated the troop strength needed.

The next morning we made a draft of the document and presented it to the commanding officer who had returned from leave. He thanked me for our efforts and said he would have his staff review the suggestions and for me to be in his office noon Friday. It was now only Tuesday morning, so I asked if he had anything else he wanted us to do. He said "No, enjoy yourself, Italy can be very accommodating to military personnel, and by the the way do you need an interpreter while you are here?"

Appian Way #2

Appian Way - The Spa

Upon arriving at the Tirrenia di Navigazione spa we were greeted with warmth and enthusiasm.  The desk clerk assigned us rooms along the beach side.  The men in our little contingent shared two to a room and I being a field grade officer got a suite all by myself.  The room was comfortable and luxurious, at least for a guy from Independence.

The group planned on meeting in the lobby around 6:00 that evening to decide what we were going to do for dinner.  I had a couple of hours left after getting settled in, so I called room service, ordered a bottle of some sort of Italian red, tried to tip the bell hop who refused my lira but did take a couple of American dollars.

I sat on the balcony in very comfortable chairs, watched the rolling Ligurian Sea and thought how nice it was to protect my country from the evils of communism.  The only thing that disappointed me was that for being a nude beach there were no swimmers or sun bathers.  It was in mid February and even close to southern Italy it was to cold for such things.

I left my room in plenty of time to meet up with my small band of brothers and explored the spa. There was a huge outdoor pool but no pool side loungers, a very large drinking establishment in the  basement area but closed for the season, a work out room with no one there, no one in the sauna, a good sized restaurant, but again closed for the season.  I started thinking that I might run in to Jack Nicholson, when I came across  what was advertised as an American Bar.  It was full.

After ordering some red wine it was immediately known to all in the bar that I was an American and for the next 45 minutes I never had to buy a drink. They were friendly and were not that interested in what I was doing in Tirrenia.  They eluded to the fact that they knew I was a soldier and they were use to soldiers not being to specific on what they were up to or where they were from.  I found out later Livorno, just down the road from Tirrenia, was the center for the Italian Communist Party.  I gave no state secrets away.

My comrades and I met in the lobby and we discussed where to eat.  No one but me was over the age of 21 so our food desires were not the same.  One wanted to go back to Camp Darby because he saw a sign in the mess hall that informed everyone that it was Taco night at the bowling ally.  Another saw a McDonald's sign as we came into town and thought that would be interesting.  Yet another said he had walked a little bit around town and just down the block was a place that advertised American Pizza.

I was weary enough that I did not want to point out the obvious so I just told them we had been in each others company for over 24 hours and perhaps we ought to go our own separate ways that evening and meet up in the breakfast cafe which was on the second floor at six the next morning.  Besides I said I was tired.  I threw the senior sergeant my car keys and headed back to the America Bar for one more drink.

Breakfast was good.  All you could eat buffet and part of the room price so we all were able to save part of our Per-Diem that morning.  Eggs, bacon, sausage, something that looked like hash browns, oatmeal, flaked cereal, hard rolls, and, don't ask me why, pork and beans. 

We piled into the BMW and headed to Camp Darby, that with pin and pencil we would begin doing our part to win the cold war.
                                    

Appian Way - Day One

Appian Way - Camp Darby

A small contingent of National Guard personnel were sent to Camp Darby, Italy to rewrite the defense plan for Livorno.,one of the main sea ports in Italy. I was the Major in charge of rewriting the plan.

We had a lay -over in London for a few hours and were subjected to a high degree of security as only one would suspect for Heathrow. We eventually were notified that our flight to Pisa on Alitalia was ready to board and we proceeded to the appropriate gate. That is when security stopped.

You might say that Italians are a little more lay back than most. We passed through the passenger gate with hardly even a glance from the airline attendants, took whatever seat we wished, received no instructions on how to fasten our seat belts or where our life preservers were, or anything else that might help us survive an un-forseen occurrence. To prevent a hijacking a curtain was drawn across the cabin separating the cockpit and the passenger section. I felt safe, sure.

The attendants were gracious and served all the espresso, biscotto , and wine that we could eat and drink. They were not bad looking either, the attendants not the biscotto. I began to feel safer.

When we landed in at the Aeroporto di Pisa we were left on the runway to pick up our own bags while the other passengers walked to the terminal building. That turned out not to be as bad it sounds. While the rest of the passengers were working their way through customs and machine gun carrying Carabinieri, we shouldered our duffel bags and walked right past everyone. I guess they thought if we were carrying OD duffel's we were OK.

My worst fears were realized when I soon realized there was no one at the airport to meet us. There was not an American uniform in site. I made my way to a public pay phone, figured out how to use it and called Camp Darby and identified myself as if my first name was Major. The operator switched me to the Officer of the Day, a 2LT, who said that they did not expect us until next week. I asked if he thought I ought to camp out on the front lawn and wait. He said he would send someone to pick us up right away.

An hour later a young captain picked us up and wanted to know where we were staying. I said I had no idea and that he better figure something out soon because I had some people who needed food and sleep and I as getting cranky.

He took us to Camp Darby which was about 5 miles away and were shown a cabin that four could sleep in. Unacceptable I informed him. We went to an enlisted mans barracks and found 8 empty beds and I told him that too was unacceptable. I suggested we go to the housing office. The captain explained our plight to a GS whatever and that accommodations on post were not available. I and my rank and crankiness suggested that we be given off base lodging. Everyone agreed and we were given a government voucher to be used at a hotel in Tirrena, just three miles down the road. Fine I said, but how are we going to get back and forth. No problem the lady said, here is a voucher to rent a car. Later my little entourage and I were driving to the Tirrenia di Navigazione spa over looking a nude beach on the Italian Riviera in a five speed BMW.

I could tell this was going to be a hardship tour.

Casino Paul

                                   

This is a guest Blog from Paul I. Fender.

I was the owners representative on two Indian Casino projects. The first was in Canyonville, OR. Right on I5 between Roseburg and Grants Pass. Its was for a re-established tribe, the Umquah Tribe of Indians. During the late 80's under Regan thay achieved tribal status and with their grant bought a track of land along I5 in Canyonville, OR. They originally built a bingo hall. While I was there in the mid 90's we built a 5 diamond hotel and a first class casino. It is named Seven Feathers Casino and Resort. It was a tribe of sorts but really a group of decendents of an old trapper by the last name of Jackson who had an Indian wife. He was originally from St. Joe, MO. I guess he was kind of rough on his women. As time went the mining and lumber baron's ran off the indians. The tribal leader, a woman, was one the decendants. When she found out I was from Missouri we ceased getting along.
Tribal politics being what it is, that was not a good thing. She was a good business woman and knew they needed me. They are doing quite well.

I built a second Indian Casino a little closer to home. The Harrah's Potowatomi Prairie Band Casino in Mayetta, Kansas. This was a band of Potowatomi that were relocated from around the great lakes and the eastern united states. We actually have a trail of tears through Jackson County, MO to Kansas. The Prairie Band are a real tribe with a real reservation. Its located in Jackson County, Kansas. Harrahs was the manageing partner and the developer of the Casino. They brought our firm to the table. After the Casino was finished, I stayed on with the tribe for about 3 years helping with construction projects on the Res. They liked to spend the money from the Casino. I made it through two tribal elections but on the third I was fired along with all the other "white men". The newly elected tribal leader was a pow wow bum who hadn't been past the 5th grade. He was a huge man. Probably 6'6" 300lbs. You did not want to piss him off. My contract was terminated on Christmas Eve. By Spring he had gone off to California for some sort of Indian meeting and never came back. According to the others I stay in touch, nobody knows what happened to him. The tribal leader now is a Harvard Business school graduate and they manage the Casino themselves. They are doing a good job.   

              

Teacher Jail - Alaska

Family Secrets- Teacher Jail


In September of 2003 I wrote an article for the Independence Examiner that got be in all sorts of trouble.  It was a humorous article, or so I thought, of what lengths teacher's would go through or thought about going through to be able to drink alcohol in "dry" Eskimo Villages (see blog November 2010.)  My intent was to make fun of us, the teachers, and not them, the Eskimos.  However I hit a nerve when I mentioned that in Hooper Bay..."most native men and many women drank alcohol."  It was like I dared to mention the 600 pound walrus sitting in the living room that everyone was ignoring.

Eventually the Police Chief of Hooper Bay or one of his associates became aware of the article and some how it was circulated around the village.  The Police Chief was a nice person and not vindictive, so I suspect if he was the culprit he would have said something to me so the entire situation could have been straightened out right away.  However no one said anything for a very long time and no telling how long the pot boiled with displeasure.

One day in April the principal informed me that the village native chief wanted to talk to me.  I told him sure, send him on over to the the classroom.  The Chief never showed up.  A week later the District School Superintendent came to the village and told me to come see him after school.

When we met he immediately showed me a photocopy of the article I had written back in September and said he was concerned that I had written it.  I asked him if there was anything in the article that was not accurate.  He didn't comment directly, he just repeated that he was concerned.  We sat there in silence for awhile and then he told me that the village chief had informed him that the former mayor of the village was upset and had threatened to shoot me.  He went on to say that everyone knew the mayor had a tendency to get drunk now and then and that his threat should be taken seriously.  The superintendent told me to pack my bags and I was to fly to the district office with him.

I was a little dumbfounded and didn't know what the big deal was.  I mean how could a guy get into trouble just telling the truth.  Being a history major I should have known that the truth some times stings more than a lie. 

The school district headquarters was located in Mountain Village a couple of hundred miles away.  They maintained a dormitory there for travelling employees.  The district fixed me up with a room, provided me with kitchen priviledges, and provided me with a charge account at the local store to buy food and necessities.  Other than showing me my room no administrator spoke to me for over a week.

Eventually I was given an assignment to work with a couple of local native ladies grading a district wide test.  I did this for the next six weeks.  The ladies and I became friends after awhile and one invited me over to her house for dinner.  She asked me why I was there and I told her.  She seemed sort of relieved and told me that the rumor was that I was a child molester and that I was taken out of the village while an investigation was taking place.  I asked her to please put that rumor to rest.

None of the administrative staff really talked to me about what to expect or when I could return or what my status was or would be.  I had learned many years ago that when you come to an impasse in any situation the one who seems most anxious to reach a conclusion is the one who talks first and the one who talks first usually looses.  I said nothing to anyone.  The administration and I were playing a waiting game.  I knew they could not fire me because I had done nothing to break the contract.  If I had lost my temper and just left then I would have forfeited my pay and be in breach of our contract and certainly would not have been employed by them again or any other district in Alaska.  I had signed a contract a couple of months earlier with the district but did not know if it had been certified by the board.  It was hard to make plans for the next year and I must admit I was stressed about the whole thing.

One day about a week before school was out, the Human Resource Director, whom I had known for a few years and were friends with somewhat, stopped me in the hall and asked me if anyone had shown me my contract for next year.  He then pulled out my file showed me the contract that had been approved two days before I was exiled to Mountain Village.  I did not mention the fact that I knew I had a job the next year to any of the administrators but did walk around with a smirk on my face for awhile.  I had won.

They flew me back to Hooper Bay and I mailed my stuff to the school I would be at the next year.  Most of the teachers had already left and all but three of the villagers ignored me.  Three men came by whom I had befriended and them me the last couple of years, part of the maintenance staff, and each shook my hand.  That meant a lot to me.

I was very bitter for awhile but as time passed I thought perhaps I should have been a little moor sensitive about making fun concerning the use of alcohol in the village.  Alcohol is a problem in every village I lived in and nothing I said in the article was not true.  However somethings should just be left unsaid I guess.

Van Horn and Other Friends - Senior

My senior year was a good year.  I joke to others that the pinnacle of my life was when I was 17 and 18 years old and it has been going down ever since.  Well not really true of course but it was a year that many good things happened to me at Van Horn, most of which were blind luck and coincidental.

Football summer practice was just as miserable as it had been the previous three years.  Tom and Tim were again the two best players we had on the team but I was by far the luckiest.  The first stroke of luck I had was misfortune for another.  My position at center was pretty well established but due to a coaching decision I was moved to the defense and a guy named Orin Walker was put in at center.  He was big and strong so there wasn't anyway I was going to be able to regain my position, but I really didn't care, there was room for us all and overall we would have been a better team.  But then Orin broke something, foot, hand, wrist, I forget.  He was out and I was back in.  As an aside that was a life changer for Orin.  He was good enough and perhaps could have gotten a scholarship to play at college.  I had forgotten all that until our 45th class reunion when Orin reminded me of what had happened.
Anyway our team went on to have a losing season again but because of my name, Snapper and my flare for the dramatics while on the field, those that selected players for special recognition would remember me and cast their vote my way.  It sounds very egotistical to relate now but it is what it was.  That year I made second team all conference, first team all area, first team all district, lineman of the year for the Independence Examiner, the First Team All Star for the Kansas City Star,  and All Star Lineman for the KC Star.  To top it off I made First Team All State and Honorable Mention High School All American.  Wow, did my head expand.  Forget the fact that Tim and Tom could kick my ass any day of the week, Orin too if he hadn't been crippled up.  Luck and coincidental things have happened to be all my life.  I think the scientific name for it is synchronicity.

I received 26 scholar ship offers that year, visited many of the big 8 schools, interviewed with Dan Devine and double dated with Earl Denney from MU.  However the big University schools knew what they were doing and passed on me and the offers I had were from the smaller schools around the country.  The smaller schools didn't give "full rides" and I did not have enough money to attend them.  I remember Montana State and West Texas State were very interested.  The Freshman Coach from MU came and visited me after my interview with Dan Devine and told me flat out that they did not think I was Big Eight material but wanted to keep me in the state and perhaps after a couple of years playing for a smaller school I would be ready for the big time.  He told me to pick any school in the state of Missouri and they would make sure I received sufficient funds to attend.  Northwest Missouri State and Southwest Missouri State immediately contacted me and I chose SMS.

The rest of the school year was a typical Senior year.  I learned to drink beer that year, ran around with my friends,  did OK grade wise but never managed to get more than a 2.5 grade average, continued to date Jan most of the time, and was just the cock of the walk, at least in my own mind. There are a lot of little stories about that year that stand out but perhaps they are for another time.

Towards the end of school that year I knew that in just a matter of weeks my life as I had known it up till then would completely change and I plunged towards graduation with the same insecurities as most of my fellow students.

On graduation night my dad gave me a watch and my grandfather gave me a ring that his dad had given him.  I still have the watch in my jewelry box and the ring I gave to my oldest grandson at his graduation.

That summer MU got me a job working for the highway department and Jan and I started dating again pretty steadily.  The job allowed me to save just enough money to ease the financial burden of going to college along with my scholarship and sometime in August Jan and I had what would end up being our last date.  We communicated a couple of times after that and I ran into her once by accident years later just for a few minutes, but in actuality have had no real communication for the last 45 years and don't suspect we will.

The morning I left for college my grandmother and grandfather cried and as I drove off to yet another great adventure I went by Van Horn and waved good by.  I think I might have shed a tear or two myself.
   Good By.....

Van Horn and Other Friends - Junior

               

The infomous thing that happend to all of us that year was the assanation of President Kennedy.  We all knew where we were when we heard the news.  I had Mr. Simonie that year also and when the news came over the intercom that the president had been shot Mr. Simonie apparently suspended the no prayer in school rule and we all did.  Later a girl came into the class and crying said that JFK had died. 

Other than that things were pretty much as they should have been. 

Again I went out for football and because the Senior boys were mad at the head coach, Fessler, they decided not to go all save one guy.  Becasue of that fluke I was able to make the starting line up.  Summer practice was as miserable as always.  After school began Fessler had a team meeting and said that he had been approached by the Senior boys and they wanted to come out.  Fessler said it was up to us "but just remeber you are the ones who went through summer practice not them."  We all voted and only the one Senior voted to allow them to come out. "Hey, these guys are my friends."  As a team we should have probably let them come out and I sort of wish we had looking back on it.  They were just a bunch of overly excuberent kids flexing their independence but then so were we.  We only won four games that year and I don't know if we would have done better with the older kids.  The one good thing that came out of it is that I was voted by the league to the second string all star team alond with Tim Bly and Tom Koehly.  Tom might have made first team I am not sure.  Those two guys got their recognition for their ability, I think I got mine becasue of my name and being a center I had less competition through out the conference.  Tom was a guard and Tim was in the back field.  Of course having a nickname like Snapper didn't hurt much.  There was a small article in the KC Star whoese headline was "What's In a Name"..."Well if it is Snapper McAnally then it is because he is the center on the Van Horn football team."  Little did they know that I was known as Snapper long before I ever played center.  Just a little fluke.

It had been a tradition that only Senior girls were nominated for Home Coming Queen.  But due to the fact that that the Senior boys were not on the team and the football team nomiated the queen canidates there were only a couple of Senior girls nominated.  I nominaed Jan and she and a couple of other Junior girls were the first Junior girls ever to be queen canidates.  I don't know who the Home Coming Queen was that year but I think it was a Senior.

I went out for the swim team again but they started having practice in the mornig and not after school and I didn't want to get up that early and walk that far.  Besides Tom K. got a care that year as did Bob Davis a life long friend and one of them would pick me up each morning.  I wasn't about to walk unless I just had to.

Again I don't remeber much about my academic life that year except I took Latin and sort of liked it and was lucky to have a very good teacher, Mr. Medina.  I even was voted presdent of the Latin Club and along with Mary Beth Steinemeyer wrote a play that our class performed in front of state wide Latin Club covention in Columbia, Missour.  I also remember that I had a lot of fun going to parties and dances and even out on real dates with Jan.  Her parents didn't like me much, but they would not have liked any boy their daughter was going out with.  They didn't think she ought to be going steady with anyone they were right of course although not very practical, where young "love" is concerned where there is a will there is a way.  They did allow us to go out one day every other week or so and the rest of the time we would just meet at parties behind their backs.  Now and then I would have one of my buddies pick her up.  I don't think Jan wanted to go steady either and in fact she decided to go to the prom that year with someone else.  I got another date and the poor girl had a miserable time I am sure.  I have always felt a little bad about that.

Jan was very talented.  She was in all the musicals that year and if she didn't have the female staring role she was the co-star and of course becasue we wre both sort of well known we fed off oneanothers popularity.

I think I went out for track that year but soon found out that I didn't have abilty to do anything.  I wasn't fast enough to be a runner, and wasn't strong enough to participate in the field events and was to lazy to work on either.

The other big thing that happend towards the end of the year was that I got a drivers licese.  Things really changed after that and my Senior year would be one of the best years of my life up till then.