My Dog

When I first saw this stockily built, fox eared, pumpkin colored dog I was a long way from being impressed. In addition to being funny looking, she wouldn't mind and barked almost constantly. Besides, she dug holes all over the backyard. We needed that mutt like we needed a case of smallpox.

After a few days I took her for a walk because she needed exercise and so did I. Her pulling on the leash made it a bit hard to control the direction we were going. I was ready to give her up as a lost cause. The next day she was anxious to repeat our walk. She stayed close to me as I walked around the house so I wouldn't leave without her. She was a little easier to handle that time. Every day we walked and gradually I began to look forward to our walks.

I decided to try her on my 3 mile run. She loved it every day, when it approached running- time, Pumpkin (Ronnie's name for her) showed her excitement. She was fine on the run, but developed a dislike for school buses and try to attack them. One of the drivers asked me to keep her on a shorter leash so she wouldn't get under the wheels of the bus. I told the bus driver I would try to control her.

When I worked in the yard she stayed close to me. Somehow she was always at my heels. She understood what I was saying and, it seemed, even what I was thinking. She wormed her way into my affection. I began to look forward to our runs and our time together. She became my dog and somehow I belong to her. We understood and loved each other.

Today I thoughtlessly left a door open, where she could run out into the street. Because she hated school buses, she charged the first one she saw and was killed. I picked up her still warm lifeless bleeding body. Because I didn't know what else to do I laid her on the front lawn. Our new neighbor stopped to say he was sorry. I thanked him for his kind concern. Ronnie suggested I bury pumpkin. I dug a hole. As I laid her in her final resting place her eyeball fell out. I quickly covered her up.

It was hard for me to realize she was dead. A short time before she had been a bundle of energy in with a zest for living. Pumpkin had so much uncritical love to give. She demanded attention and love in return. It was a question as to whether I owned her. She owned me. When I dug a hole for her lifeless body it left a hole in my heart that will take time to heal. I loved that dog.

Father's Day Fish Story

It was Father's Day. my family had bought me a beautiful set of waders to use with my new hobby of fishing. To celebrate the day and to give me a chance to try out my new present, we climbed into the car and drove to the Deschutes River in Yelm, where we were considering buying a river lot. The setting was inviting. We were in a wooded area on the banks of the river. We could hear the birds singing and the continuous running water of the stream.

I climbed into my new waders and grabbed my spinning rod. The water was running high, so I was nervous about slipping on the rocky bottom. I looked at my family standing on the bank watching me. I was on the spot. I couldn't back down now. Ahead of me was the swirling water. Once in I felt the current pulling up my legs. The footing was treacherous. I started wondering when I was going to have fun fishing. So far the work of keeping my feet and hoping I didn't drown was taking all my attention.

Somewhere I have read that fish like to hide behind rocks. In the middle of the river was a protruding boulder with the swirling water bubbling around it. A fish had to be lurking in the slack water behind the rock. I cast my lure on the boulder and pulled it into the slack water. I felt the pull of the line. The rod tip dipped. A Fish!! all excited I reeled in line. My feet were slipping. With a super effort, I kept from taking a bath. For the next five minutes I fought to keep from losing the fish and at the same time keep my balance. My family on the bank, as excited as myself, shouted instructions and encouragement.

Finally, the fish tired. I carefully took the hook out of his mouth and held them up for all to see. He was a beautiful 14 inch rainbow trout. This fishing is great. But what's this? My wife, Ronnie, says "That fish is cute, please let him go."

I say "You're crazy! It's my first fish." She says "But it's so cute, look at its eyes."

I look and I am surprised at how expensive express it in brown they are -- like limpid pools of sensitivity. The fish looks at me with his bulging soulful eyes. Then I hear or I think I hear the fish say "Yeah I'm cute."

I say, "Christ. I can't throw you back. You're my first fish." I must be off my rocker. I'm talking to a fish.

Then he says "I'm too cute to eat. Besides, it's Father's Day and I'm a father."

He really got to me, talking like that. I say "What the hell!" and throw him back in the water. My kids must think I'm nuts. Before the talking fish with the expressive eyes flips his tail and swims the way he looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes. He has a smile on his lips. Or is he laughing at me,? Maybe he figures he is outsmarted me. Perhaps he's right, but somehow I feel good about letting him go. I guess the kids are right. I must be some kind of nut. From now on I'll refrain from looking at in a fish's eyes or talking to one.

June 2, 1944, Friday

Dear Ronnie,

I will write very little tonight because I've already written you in awe letter said I will mail through the regular censors. there is anything new anyhow except that I just heard a rumor from the Cook that we will be underway tomorrow. That's not to be depended upon, but I hope he's right.

The engineering officer called a mustard today and passed out a box of conundrums to each of us. He said they were good, watertight sax to put cigarettes and matches in case we have to go over the side. If we weren't in the invasion, he said we could still use them when we get back to Londonderry or Brooklyn.he didn't figure they would go to waste.

Taps have just sounded and I'm about to hit the sack soon as I finish shaving.

All my love,

Clyde

June 1, 1944, Thursday

Dear Ronnie,

We were married just two months ago today, honey, and out of 60 days have spent one week and three days in each other's company. That doesn't seem like very much, does it? When you put it down on paper the days don't seem long, but I still think about how much living we did in that time. Those are the days both of the should remember for a long, long time. I never knew what the meaning of happiness was until then, when for a few days I caught a glimpse of the happiness that could be ours. When we are allowed to share more of our life together. We have only just begun to appreciate all the responsibilities and privileges we have towards one another -- at least I have. You, being a woman, probably had an insight into what was ahead for us but are forced to learn things the hard way -- by experience. To my way of thinking, the responsibilities are a small price to pay for all the fun we shall have together.

I miss having you close to me and making love to you more as time goes by. There is no telling how long it will be before I get to see you again as things stand now. That's why it hurts -- I can't look forward to being back in a certain day. When I do get back we shall have to make up for lost time.

Love,
Clyde

May 30, 1944, Thursday

Dear Ronnie,

I'm starting a new pack of stationary as you can see. A stack doesn't last long when I pull at least a sheet out every day and write in my few lines. I've just come from seeing a good picture, "Desperados." Honey, we really suffer to see a show because the space where the projector is set up is so small. Bodies are crowded so close together that when a person wants to move he disturbs about six others around him trying to do so. When I leave the sweat is running off me and I'm so stiff and forced to go slow for a few minutes until all the kinks straightened out. It's surprising what people will go through to get a little amusement with nothing better is offered.

A few more ships are joining us slowly. We have an aircraft carrier and a couple more battleships and cruisers. Except for that, everything is as usual. I mean the way it was yesterday. Most of the ships are refueling and our turn will probably come tomorrow. this waiting isn't so hot, especially when we don't know what minute we are going to be underway.

They say this will probably be the biggest show the world has ever seen. Ronnie, there is only one consolation for me. If it brings the war and he closer to a finish and brings us together. The sooner I will be happy about it.

We are separated much too long to my way of thinking.

All my love,

Clyde

August 25, 1998

August 25, 1998, Tuesday

After breakfast I found the road out of town and was surprised to find a 4 lane highway with a center strip, much like our freeways, but with more access allowed. It was possible to make much better time.

At the town of Taroskie , I stopped at the lead and silver mine where they had tours. Our guide only spoke Polish, but it was interesting descending in the first elevator and walking through the passageways where we had to stoop at times. We wore hard hats with the paint worn off the tops from scraping the rock ceilings.

About halfway through the tour, a young woman who spoke English offered to interpret for me. She was with her husband and two sons and had been hiking in the mountains of northern Slovakia. Part of the underground route was by boat. The mine was no longer in operation except for tours. Years before, there had been a mine cave in, so the superstitious miners believed the ghost of the mine wanted them to leave. They abandoned the mine.

Hour after hour, I drove on the good roads until I had arrived in Lodz, a fairly large city. After much difficulty, I found the Centrum hotel had a vacancy. Three other hotels had no vacancy.

Studying the map of Poland, I was beginning to realize how large Poland was. To reach the port town of Swinoviskie would take a lot of hard driving.

August 24, 1998

August 24, 1998, Monday

By the Mysience town square, there was a bank where I could draw money on a credit card. After much driving I arrived at the town of Oswiecim , where the concentration camps of Auschwitz and Birkenan, now a museum, were located.

The admission was free, but I did pay for parking and an English-speaking guide. The way people lived and died there was horrible. Many died the first day they arrived in camp. The women and children, except for twins under 12 years, the old and disabled were marked for death. A doctor at the train station decided who was physically strong enough to work and who was to die. The Jews slated for death were told to take off their clothes and get ready for showers. They were herded into a large room. The doors were closed in from a small opening in the ceiling cyanide pellets that turned into a deadly gas when exposed to air were dropped into the crowded chamber in the holes were immediately closed. In 5 to 10 minutes, everyone was dead. The hair was cut from the corpses to be used in weaving. The gold fillings were yanked from their mouths and the bodies three at a time were burned in the furnaces. Much of the work was done by Jewish prisoners who were allowed to live as long as they could work.

There was much cruel and inhuman treatment of the working prisoners and every attempt was made to dehumanize and humiliate them. When the Russians marched in, there were still 100,000 prisoners still alive and many corpses to be buried.

Reading about it and seeing newsreels on it is one thing. To be there and to be told the awful facts was mind boggling. I felt a little sick to my stomach and wondered how any person in his right mind could conceive of such horrible treatment of his fellow man.

The general in charge of the camp was brought to trial after the war and found guilty. He was brought back to Auschwitz and hung until dead. He deserved worse.

After some difficulty finding my way, I arrived in the city of Tychy and found a room in the Tychy hotel. It was an old hotel with out of date elevators, but it was a place to sleep

August 23, 1998

Sunday, August 23, 1998.

This morning after checking out, I took a taxi to the Obis Caronia Hotel. At noon, I picked up the hotel rental car I walked all around and looking for scratches or dings, but could find none. The insurance requires me to pay the first $300 of any damage.

The first destination was the Wieliczka salt mine where salt had been mined for at least 1000 years. Salt was no longer mined there, but the miles of shafts, the many levels in chambers, and the lakes deep underground make it a wonderful attraction for tourists. Some of the chambers were enormous with high rock ceilings. Many had carved figures depicting the life of the miners and in one huge chamber on the wall base for leaves of scenes from Christ's time on earth such as the Last Supper and turning water into wine.

We kept going deeper, until we reached the largest chamber of all which housed a restaurant and several gift shops. Then we were very rapidly brought to the top in a six man cage. The mine has been declared one of the 12 wonders of the world by the United Nations.

After leaving the salt mine, I drove south along a two-lane highway to the town of Myslenice. At a restaurant and bar I inquired about a hotel. Later I talked to could only speak a few words of English, but he produced a city map and gave me directions to the Ambassador Hotel across town. I was backing the car when he came out to the parking lot and clarified his directions.

When I found the hotel and stopped in front, the parking lot attendant across the street from the hotel talk to me. He spoke pretty good English. Later I asked him where he learned English. He told me he had lived in the Chicago area for two years.

The hotel was small with only two-stories with a bar and restaurant on the first floor and hotel on the second and, of course, no elevator. A gauge to room and wrestled my bags up the stairs. There was a park by a river across from the hotel. It was Sunday. The weather was mild, so people were there enjoying the outdoors. One man was arguing pull a sausage a large grill. On a cement dance floor at three piece band began playing. First, one couple and another began to dance. As the evening darkness set in more dancers joined the fun.

I watched the people from a close by park bench. The man barbecuing gave me a plate with a piece of sausage and bread and some mustard. He began to dance with a partner, and despite his pot belly he could dance well. Soon I was also dancing. They played many fast pieces including polkas. It was a fun evening. When I became tired and went to bed.

August 22, 1998

August 22, 1998, Saturday

In the morning I took one last bus ride into old town. Not wanting to risk another fine by the inspectors I stamped my ticket as soon as boarding and felt quite virtuous. The square and streets were crowded. I wandered through the small shops and bought a couple of gifts.

There were several young couples dressed in traditional costumes on the race stand in the square dancing Polish folk dances. They danced well and kept the crowd entertained. In another corner of the square a band of colorfully dressed musicians played lively Polish tunes. They were trying to sell tapes of their music.

After returning to the hotel and eating my sandwich, I walked along the shore of the river Wista. A fisherman had two lines in the water. He told me there were lots of fish in the river, but he had caught nothing today.

Not far from the hotel and close to the river was a shopping area where I bought chicken to go at a Kentucky fried chicken. On the way back to the hotel I walked through a small park. Back at the river bank the fisherman was reeling in his lines getting ready to leave.

I stopped at the hotel desk and with my new map and asked for help in locating towns that Barbara, my travel agent, suggested I visit in the rental car. The Polish spelling of places was much different than the English version.

The phone rang in my room. They wanted my room. I told them I was staying one more night.

I visited a bookstore--in the center, the ceiling was constructed of Gothic arches. It was a beautiful geometric site more suited to his chapel that the bookstore. It did give the store a touch of class. I went on many narrow stairs into a cellar used as a disco and bar. They were rough stone and brick arches, the foundation for the building above. The rooms were small with the bar in one room and a few tables in another. The place certainly had character.