My 1962 Thanksgiving Day story.

[John Schmidt]

If you recall, October, 1962 was the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis. I was stationed at Loring AFB, ME, about 45 miles from the nothern tip of Maine, a place noted for ten months of winter and two months of poor sledding. If we had 100" of snow it was considered a soft winter, winters often saw -35 or more before windchill was factored in, in our small mobile home we would go through more than 55 gals. of fuel oil a week. I once saw a neighbor's tire break into pieces when he hit a rock leaving for work. When you first arrived on base, you had to attend a formal introduction that was for all new troops and lasted a half day. In that intro meeting, one thing was emphasized re. the cold in winter...especially to those that would be working on the flightline. If you felt the need to drain the main vein, do NOT do it on the flightline. With the chill factor often at/below -40 and you decide to take a chance due to urgency, you run the chance of becoming "queen for life"...not just for the day. Some were foolish enough to test it and joined the girls chorus. Quite painful I'm told.

I had moved back into the barracks and my wife with our three girls headed south to Portsmouth, NH where I was previously stationed. She was visiting some old friends there when the husband was called out in the middle of the night. Shortly thereafter she headed on west to her parents home in a Chicago suburb, Downers Grove. I had applied earlier for some leave time over Thanksgiving so as to join her there but due to the missile crisis all leave was cancelled. To my surprise, a few days before Thanksgiving, leave was again allowed and since mine was already given the OK it was activated. This created a problem since I had earlier made arrangements to use shuttle(courier) a/c that flew from various bases to the various headquarters, but all that was cancelled with the advent of the crisis. I could fly commercial...at a cost, money I didn't have. So I headed for the main highway headed south from Caribou, ME and stuck out my thumb. I soon had a ride with a young guy driving a semi and he took me all the way to Westover AFB at Springfield, Mass, I believe it was 8th Air Force Headquarters at the time and originally my first courier flight stop. While there, I checked but no flights available so I caught a ride out to the nearest intersection with the main highway headed west, stuck out my thumb and hoped for the best. Interstates weren't the thing back then, 63 years ago, but some states had turnpikes that often later were turned into interstates. This wasn't the case then however. It had started to sprinkle so I headed for a spot under an overpass and waited. Shortly a guy in a fairly new Oldsmobile pulled up, asked where I was headed, told him WEST! Said to hop in since he was headed that direction also. Turned out to be a young captain as I recall and headed for Owosso, MI to spend Thanksgiving with his parents and other family members. He drove all night, we arrived early the next day and he introduced me to his parents. I told him I needed to find a Greyhound bus station to continue on but he said no...it's Thanksgiving Day and you're going to eat with us, then I'll put you on a bus for Downers Grove. His mother greeted me with open arms, as did his dad and other family members. They moved the chairs around to make room for one more very tired guy, I was starved. After eating, I got cleaned up a bit then the young captain took me to the bus station...we had already made reservations. The driver asked where I was headed, showed him my ticket and he said he's the driver all the way there and beyond. Then he directed me to a nearby seat, said to catch some shuteye and he'd wake me up when we got there. I called my wife at her parents, told her I needed a ride from the bus station to her parents place and what time to pick me up. I then crashed. Time flew by but the next time I was fully awake was as we were pulling into the station on the west side of Chicago somewhere. Needless to say, a good time was had by all.

A few days later, I was headed back NE to Loring AFB and still riding my thumb. A young guy picked me up in his car with no heater, took me all the way to New York where I grabbed a train north into Maine. At the end of that line I got a ride to the edge of town and stuck my thumb out again, got a quick ride the rest of the way in with a guy stationed there and also returning from a Thanksgiving furlough.

Over the years, every Thanksgiving I think of the young captain, I believe his name was also John, and the reception I got from his family. I didn't get his name or the name of his folks, but I've often wondered what ever happened to them. Every year this special time comes to mind and kinda warms the heart. Even his dog was excited to see me, strange how that works.  

I have other travel stories, most would work better than a sleeping pill. Pulling a family out of a burning camper pickup, helping a family out when on the then New York thruway. A semi had jackknifed and the trailer hit their car, putting them in the ditch upside down. That turned out to be a heartbreaker and weighed on me for a long time. One time out west I was offered "payment" for helping a couple cougars  get their car running, only to find out they also had a flat tire and no spare. I helped with the car, no "payment" required. I did get a free meal since they followed me to the next town and obviously knew the proprietor in a rather nice restaurant. That interaction was amusing...if nothing else!  

[Jess from VA]

Thanks for the great story John.  

Your memory is better than mine, though events like your trip cross county thumbing I would remember too.

We moved so many times when us 3 kids were little (some when dad was a Marine sergeant) , I remember events, but have no idea where they happened.  I talk to my 96yo mom all the time, and I ask her about some event, and she can usually fill in all the details I can't remember.

As a jr officer (Lt/Capt) I often dealt with enlisted men who generally hated all officers.  Like some kind of default setting.  

I was never a stickler for custom and courtesy or stood men tall for such things as missing a salute. I did draw the line at being called "dude".  

And Jags routinely gave legal assistance (active, reserve, retired), and I always did my very best to help enlisted men (and their families) in any way I could.  To the point guys would come to the legal office and ask for me by name (word got around).  

Your Captain was a good guy.    

[Oldfishguy]

Thanks for sharing.  I love hard luck stories that turn out to be gifts in disguise.

[John Schmidt]

One thing I remember is we were about half way to his home in Michigan when he called to sign out. When he got back in the car, I just smiled and said rank does have its privileges.

[f6john]

I don’t have any specific stories of my own but my Dad did tell me when he was a Marine during WW2, a man in uniform could always expect to get a ride.

[old2soon]

      I missed most Holidays when I served-Nam-and looking back now while it Did HURT at that time I now Understand my presence was needed for the Mission we had. I also celebrated 3 Birthdays in a row in Yokosuka Japan. Do NOT ask I wuz in Japan!  When I was ststioned at N A S North Island there was an air shuttle from San Diego to Las Vegas and you showed up in uniform it was free!! Same on the return. And L V hotel rooms were deeply discounted fer active Military then.
       I may have mentioned this before but here goes anywho. I NEVER needed this service but I'd heard that if you got picked up and put in the Tijuana jail every Sunday a Navy Chief would show up at the jail in I believe a Military Dodge power wagon loaded full, of American beer and greenbacks and the Chief would pay their "bail"!  You did NOT wanna be picked up Monday as ya wuz gonna be in the slam til Sunday!  John from my Personal Experience Not all Officers are butt heads. New butter bars wanted to change EVERYTHING when arriving at their new duty station!  Yes New Pilots as I was in Naval Aviation. butter bar-Navy Ensign and I Believe 2nd Lieutenant most ever where else, RIDE SAFE.

[Jess from VA]

Dennis, while stationed at March AFB in Riverside CA,  my new wife and I visited Tijuana (TJ) several times in my Chevy El Camino.  My boss the Col told me "DO NOT get in trouble down there Captain!!!."

Always in and out before dark.  

Drove down to Ensenada once too, and stayed a weekend and it was much nicer than TJ.  

Mi Espaniol es muy malo.

[Oldfishguy]

I was in West Germany for a few Christmas’s (1982-83).

When I arrived at my unit in Katterbach the billets were fairly full and was offered a chance to move off base with a housing allowance, I jumped.  Unfortunately when visiting with the German housing liaison they informed me it would be six months before a furnished apartment opened up near the base.  We had a nice conversation as I came from a German farming community and a rudimentary language ability already.  Two days later a had a message to go see the German, he had a place for me, maybe.

The next weekend I took the hike in my “new” $300 orange Ford Escort the 15km to a village called Wolframs Eschenbach.  It was far enough from base that I would be the only American for some time to live in the village.  The twisting road brought me to an ancient village with a medieval wall and a nice large townhouse on the edge of town.  A single mother 30 years my senior, and a sixteen year old son greeted me.  They had the top floor room available with a family shared bathroom.  I saw then why I jumped the line for an apartment . . . I would be living with the family.  The thought was I was there to teach the son to be more fluent with English.  In short, I realized they were short on money.  

What followed was the best few years one could spend in the Army.  And we are still friends today.  A German neighbor offered me a job before my enlistment ended, but I knew I needed to go home for a time or I would have never leave.

[Jess from VA]

I was in West Germany for a few Christmas’s (1982-83).

What followed was the best few years one could spend in the Army.  And we are still friends today.  

When I was sent overseas to HQ USAF in Ankara Turkey (1985), everyone lived off base, except a small dorm for jr enlisted (I suppose to keep an eye on them).  A US captain was viewed as a wealthy man, so my Turk housing guy took me around to the affluent areas downtown, and I got a giant apartment I didn't really need, but cheap that was fully covered by my housing allowance.  All their buildings were surrounded by big concrete balconies, and I had a great view of the city (which sits down between surrounding mountains) on the top (5th) floor.  Elevators were wildly untrustworthy, so there was a lot of stair walking.  Heat was also iffy, so the USAF gave us big smelly oil burning heaters which you needed in winters.  

Driving over there was a whole new experience.  Everyone was aggressive, esp the million taxis, and everyone used their horn instead of their brakes, because horns never wear out.  The Chevy El Camino I shipped over was popular, and I had many offers to buy it (which was prohibited by complex custom laws, and I wouldn't have wanted to anyway).

This resulted in learning Pigeon Turkish pretty quickly, enough to get around with.  As junior man in the office, I was sent TDY (TAD) all over Europe mostly to assist other short handed legal offices (mostly Germany, but also Greece, Spain).  A couple times I flew commercial, but mostly sat in back of big, noisy and cold C141 and C130 transports, and quickly learned to always carry my big uniform overcoat so I didn't freeze to death. 

I met and married a local Turkish girl who was blond and blue eyed, unlike most middle easterners (her family was from the Black Sea area and there were Russians in that woodpile).  We were married in the O-club downtown, and a couple Libyans (Muammar Gaddafi era) with a suitcase of Russian hand grenades tried to blow it up (but were caught by Turk secret police and carted away to be interrogated using 220 volts).  After that, I had a perfect translator with me from then on.   The Turks all called me Inishtay (phonetic), which translates as brother-in-law to all Turks.  

A year in, I was transferred to Incerlik AB in the South to be defense counsel for all USAF in Turkey (a job I didn't really want, but was promised was a good career move).  BS!  So I traveled all over Turkey doing that job for another year.

These were also some of the best and fun years of my life, with good and bad excitement thrown in.  

(I know I've told this story before, but it's been a while.)

[F6Dave]

I've had many boring Thanksgivings so this year I tried something different. I met an old college friend and some of his family in Moab. Dinner was in the evening at his daughter's Air-BNB, which gave me the whole day to explore parks in the area.

I spent the morning in Arches. It's a great time of year to visit without the need for reservations. It still helps to get there early to avoid lines at the entrance, and the morning light enhances some of the views.


I'd never seen Canyonlands before. It's similar to the Grand Canyon and better than I expected. Crowds were lighter, maybe because it's a longer drive from Moab. This view is from Dead Horse Point in an adjacent state park.

I did lots of hiking and this may be the only Thanksgiving where I burned more calories than I consumed.

[Jess from VA]

Very cool Dave. 

I've been all over East, and some of New England, and southern CA.  But all I've ever done is flown over the West.

[F6Dave]

Very cool Dave. 

I've been all over East, and some of New England, and southern CA.  But all I've ever done is flown over the West.

Flyover Country! That term Rush coined definitely fits the area. And the vapor trails in my Arches photo show he was right.

I understand why people avoid driving through those vast western states. Intuitively it seems like hundreds of miles of open road with few people and even fewer services must be boring. But every time I try a new route through the area I'm amazed at the variety of terrain. And I'm happy many people avoid driving there because it helps those isolated places remain isolated.

With light traffic and high speed limits (80 MPH on most Interstates) you can cover ground quite quickly. Recently I rode 590 miles in a day with surprising ease. And our Honda flat sizes love roads like these. Just make sure to fill up often!

[Jess from VA]

I'd love to ride out there.  But not to and from there from VA.

I did ride across the Mojave Desert to Vegas once.   It was warm.   

[John Schmidt]

Open a Taco Bell where that gas sign is located. Problem solved!

[F6Dave]

That sign in on US-6 between Tonopah and Ely, Nevada. When I was there I saw a Tesla on the side of the road, 9 miles short of Ely. Since that's the longest stretch of road in the lower 48 without gas (or charging), I suspect the owner wanted to prove a point. But he came prepared. He was plugged in to a generator or large battery pack in the trunk. So he may have been delayed but wasn't stranded. And he could still brag about driving his Tesla across that famous road.