Carl’s brother BW owned a gas station. He was lucky. He got a job the next day with his brother at the station. He had an old car there and BW let Carl work for half pay until he got it paid off. Carl and I ran the tires off that old car. We could date girls in style now. Carl wound up owning three stations and died in 1992. He was a dear friend.

I had to get me a job and soon but I wanted one of them big factory jobs that paid a lot of money. My first stop was American Standards. They made bathtubs, sinks and stuff like that. I went in and filled out my application and put on it I was 18 years old. (After all I had been through I looked that old!) The lady who interviewed me from the main office said you are hired and to start working tomorrow, so, the next day, with my three white castle hamburgers off I went to work. It lasted for about a week and the same lady from the main office came up and said “Harry, are you only 15?” I asked “Why?” She said “Social security has reported you”. So she took me to the office and filled out my time. So I was back on the road again, but was not going to give up.

I told myself I was not going to return to Rhoda and live like Conard. So this time I went to a factory called Bradley Box Company. They made boxes. I filled out a false application and this pretty lady hired me on the spot and I went to work the next day. In about a week I saw him coming and I knew what happened. I was on the road again. About this time I am getting desperate.

My two older brothers Clarence and Rumsey were building houses for a company and my brother Clarence was the foreman. He said, “Harry I will hire you for fifty cents an hour”. That is all they would let him pay. I was glad to get that and I worked with them for a while. (Clarence has often said I could do more and do it better than his skilled carpenters).

The first weekend in November 1950 I was off of work. Rumsey did not go to Rhoda down in the country so I could not go down there. Our rooms were downtown near the basins district bus station two blocks away. So early Saturday morning I went down to the bus station to watch the people come and go. I decided to walk on downtown and as I went by the Navy recruiting office I went in to talk to the Navy Recruiter. I told him I was seventeen and wanted to join. He said ok but you have to take a written test first. I took it and the recruiter graded it and said “I am sorry I can’t take you. You failed the test.” (That is the only written test I ever failed in my life).

So out the door and on down the street I went and I came to the US Army Recruiting office. I went in with the same story. He also said you have to take a test. I took it and passed. He filled all the paper work out and gave me a form and said I needed to take it to Rhoda and have Dad give me parental consent and have it notarized. I kept the paper and the next weekend Rumsey and I went to the country. For some reason I had signed Dad’s name to the paper so I really did not have his permission.
Early that Saturday morning I went to Brownsville. I was sitting on the side of the bank before the bank opened. Mr. Hudson, the bank owner came to open up and asked “How are you doing Harry?” I knew him. At that time a flash ran through my mind.

I said, “I need to see you Mr. Hudson. I have something for you to notarize.” I said, “Dad could not come down and asked if you would notarize this for me so I can join the Army.” He said sure, put a stamp on it and wished me good luck.
Early Monday morning I was in the recruiter’s office with my papers. I handed him my papers and he said “Fine. Report to the processing center Wednesday”. That is when we shipped to Fort Knox for further process. I was there. They gave us a physical and swore us in. About thirty of us joined that day and then they sent us to quarters at Fort Knox.

When we got to Fort Knox a corporal got on the bus and said “ok all you dumb rainbows. Fall off the bus in formation.” I thought, “I know I am dumb but some of these guys looked smart.” I asked the kid right next to me what did he mean by rainbow? He said we are all in different colored clothing and from now on we will be dressed the same. It was supper time. Then they had issued us all our uniforms by then and marched us to the dining hall. It was a big, hot meal. My thoughts were “You are going to give me clothing, all I can eat, a place to sleep, plus pay me? You can call me dumb or anything you want to. I am staying!”

The next morning they finished processing us and gave all of us $10.00 dollars to get things we needed. That is called the “flying ten”. I sent five of this to Conard. In fact, I gave them half of my pay check until Dad was able to get social security. They loaded us on a troop train and sent us to Camp Carson, Colorado for basic training. I completed basic and was assigned to the medical field. To be trained as a first aid medic which meant I would have to stay on the front line as long as a solder was fighting.

On January 18, 1951 the company Commander called me in and said “Private, you are just sixteen aren’t you?” I said “Yes sir!” “Well, I am going to have to give you a discharge.” I was on the road again. But this time I had all my army issue. I had a duffel bag full of clothes. Not bad for the effort!

When I got back to Louisville Teamon, his wife Ruby and his two girls were visiting. The girls were in wheel chairs. Teamon said “Harry, why don’t you go back to North Carolina with me and Ruby? You can help out with the girls and we will find you a job there”. That sounded good to me!

I went and in a short time I landed a good job in a weaving factory that made fabric. I worked there for about two and a half months before they caught up with my age. They did and now I was on the road again.

I returned to Louisville at this time. I had turned seventeen and could join the military with parental consent. I joined the USAF in February of 1951 and had a job that they could not discharge me from until I retired October 30, 1976.

(After dad had written about his early military career he sent me the following e mail)Jeff, I have told you all of this in bits and pieces. Now you can figure out how or if this is a story interesting enough to share. I often wonder what my life would have been like if I would have landed one of the good jobs. No Jean, No Jeff and Wendy. I probably would not have had any military service. Maybe this was a way God had of looking out for me?It will be somewhat embarrassing for you to show this to someone. But I learned to respect life and nothing is free except a gift from God. You have to work for everything else in your life- your money, your respect for yourself and respect for others, your love for your family.You know the rest from here. If you need any help let me know.Love Dad(After a little more persuasion and a rest period I got dad to keep writing after posing some questions……)

MY MILITARY CAREER



After getting processed in to the Army at Fort Knox, I was shipped to Camp Carson, Colorado located in Colorado Springs for basic and AIT training. I thought this was a great place. We would be marching in our short sleeves and look up at Pikes Peak covered with snow. At this time the Korean War was going on and growing to its most intense period and the Army had called in a large amount of reserves. I wound up with them. They were much older than me and did not want to be in the Army. They were out of shape and could hardly do the physical training. This was a lot of fun for me. I had been accustomed to running around the hills in Kentucky and climbing trees. It was just a joke for me. The drill instructor used me as an example. This made me feel important and like I now had a head start in life.

Just being sixteen and not a smoker or drinker I stayed close to the quarters and kept my bunk area in shape, my clothes hung properly, foot locker straight and shoes shined. I won the quarter’s award ever week. The older troops would head for the PX and drink beer until lights out. I would think how silly this was. Plus, they were spending all that good money they were making. I needed mine. I had to send some of it home for Dad and Conard. It seemed that if the GIs had a problem they would like to talk to me about it.

One night I had gone to bed a little early and had fallen asleep and the gang returned from the Post Exchange drunk. One came over and sat on my bed and woke me up. I could see he had tears in his eyes, He said, “Kentucky, I have a problem.” I said, “What’s that?” He said “My sister has two brothers and I only have one. I can’t straighten it out.” I said, “Go to bed and I will explain it tomorrow.” Anyway he was smoking and dropped his cigarette on my bed and burned a hole in my blanket about the size of a dime. He was a real big guy and bunked across from me.

The next morning we had a quarter’s inspection I had folded my blanket so the burn showed and I did not realize it. We were all standing at attention while the corporal was inspecting when he came to me. He saw the burn and was in my face giving me the dickens. I glanced at the one that had done it. He frowned at me so I knew to keep my mouth shut.

So the corporal had the CQ wake me up thirty minutes before everyone else for three days. I had to carry two five gallon buckets of water around the quarters. He said I was on fire guard. It was the coldest weather I have ever seen.

The quarter buildings were in a row of about ten. Early in the morning they would fall us all out and we would line up and police the area up one side and down the other. It was cold as blazes early in the morning. We started out one morning (the buildings were heated with coal) and I told my buddy, “Let’s duck in this boiler room where it’s warm and catch them on the way back”. We did. Then we got caught by the corporal. They had us run a detail roster to keep coal in the furnace. He came up and said I got my detail and he locked us up in the furnace all day and all night. When we came out we were as black as a tire.

After basic I was assigned to medical training and shortly thereafter discharged for being under age as I have mentioned earlier.

United States Air Force

After having been out of the Army for about three months, the job market wasn’t any better and now 17 years old (old man) I had designs on life! I enjoyed the short tour in the Army and with my Dad’s permission I joined the US Air Force. Before I go any further I need to explain about the Air Force’s formation. September 11, 1947 the US Air Corp divorced itself from the Army and became the USAF. A post was now called a base and troops were called airman. They were building new bases and getting in all new equipment. I could not have picked a better time to join.

My first assignment was Lackland AFB in Texas. I had to take basic training all over again because the regulation was that you must serve at least 6 month to be prior service. (Which I did not mind) Just having former basic training put me ahead of the flight and led me to think I was cheating on my buddies. But because of my previous experience, I passed with honors and I got my first stripe. Now I was important.

After Basic I was assigned to Francis E Warren AFB, Cheyenne, Wyoming to attend Cook School. This was a real fun assignment. It was a small town in frontier style. I was there during Frontier Days. That was quite a week. I had a ball.

Back on base at the cook school I worked one ten hour day and was off the next. I teamed up with a buddy named Douglas Y. Bridges from Florida. He worked the days I was off. So he and I bought an old 40 Ford for $75.00. I would use the car when he was working and he would use it when I worked. We had the same two days off so we would go together then. We ran the wheels off that thing. I bet we put a 100,000 miles on in three months. The roads, except the main through way, were unimproved roads, gravel or a step above it. You could drive for miles without meeting a car in the countryside and mountains.

Here is where I started drinking beer and getting on the wild side of life. Doug or I were not twenty-one so we had a time finding a place to buy beer. We always got it to go. We found one little bar that would sell it to me. I looked older than Doug. We would buy a quart bottle of Black label beer. The cheapest you could get.

Of course by then Doug and I had a couple of little girls on the line. Once when we were off work, we had our girl friends and we went out. We bought a quart of beer each that day. We wanted to act big this time. Again, we were only 17 or 18. I was driving on one of the country roads drinking my beer from a quart bottle. Doug and his girlfriend were in the backseat. I had just about drunk that whole quart. It just about wiped me out. I would turn the bottle up to drink looking over that quart bottle. It looked like the hood of the car. I kept running off the road. They made me stop and Doug took over.

After completing cook school we sold the old car for $80.00 and luckily Doug and I got the same assignment. And now, North Dakota!