Down the Basement Stairs and Into the Previous

Down the Basement Stairs and Into the Past

I started to have "Do you remember me?" make phone calls and catch up on life. I learned of grandchildren, deaths, many divorces, successful careers, and major surgeries. It was like I started reading a book when I was 18 and finished it 50 years later.

I found captain's penalty papers (report and order of crime) for Mario, a Vietnam buddy who violated Article 86, unauthorized absence. Twice. "I forgot what a troublemaker you are," I said, laughing when I reached him. He married a nurse who changes clothes in the garage when she comes home from work because of Covid-19. You have two children, neither a troublemaker.

I caught up with Chuck, the well-trained Navy buddy who got me to go to college after my release. My debt to him is enormous. I tried to get in touch with our former lieutenant Alex, but he never picked up.

Trish and Walt's 1972 letter was about their upcoming wedding. "The bridesmaids' dresses will be brown and white, so you will wear brown tuxedos," she wrote. They divorced a few years later. Unfortunately I found her through her mother's obit and Trish told me that she had remarried but was divorced after 30 years and four children.

There was a letter from my mother, although it could have been from one of our mothers, written just 24 hours after I left for boot camp in 1970. She wondered bizarrely why she hadn't received a letter from me and asked me to call. Write down our phone number like this teen who lived on the phone actually forgot about it.

My departure was her chance to relax too, but she found it too sad to straighten my room. “I tried to take your clothes off,” she wrote, “but find it extremely difficult. You will be happy to know that the dirt that you accumulated that I couldn't wait to clean up is still there. “As I read the letter as a parent now, the pain of leaving my house recently breaks my heart.

I found tons of letters from Susan. It had been impossible to find until I found Ray's letter in which he offered to pick me up at the airport when I came home on vacation in 1971. I got home a different way, but considering he ended up being her boyfriend for you while I wonder what he would have wanted to talk about if I had made his ride. He still lives in my hometown and was easy to find. Unsurprisingly, he had Susan's phone number.


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