1981-1988 Life in Rockville: Trips and Visits

We didn’t work every day. Continue reading

The years that we spent in Rockville were mostly happy ones, but we had neither the time nor the money to take much in the way of vacations. The two that we took were for only a week each in 1985 and 1986. They are documented here.

We also made very few exciting or life-enhancing purchases. As in the other blogs about non-business events, the timeline is shaky. I am only certain of the dates of a few events.

The most exciting news of our first year in Rockville came in a phone call in the spring of 1981 from Gerry Cox. He announced that he and a group of Wayne State debaters wanted to pay us a visit in the summer. We looked at our schedules and told him that that would be fine, as long as they could come in June, July, or August. We quickly agreed upon a set of dates. The debaters were Nancy Legge, Al Acitelli, and Mark Buczko.

They drove from Detroit to Rockville. We gave them directions to our house. I think that we advised them to get off of I-91 and take Route 83. We told them that when they could smell the cows they would be in Ellington, the town just north of Rockville. At that point they needed to watch out for the turn. We told them that they should turn uphill (left) onto Upper Butcher Road and then downhill (right) onto Park St. Both of these hills are short, but quite steep.

They found the house. They parked in back, as we directed. We helped them move in. The guys stayed in the bedroom at the top of the stairs, where we had set up bunk beds. Their room was directly above the office. Nancy slept in the waterbed in the spare bedroom, which had not yet been converted into an office for Sue.

They stayed with us for a few days. Everyone had a splendid time throughout the visit. I remember three activities.

  • We all spent one day at Rocky Neck State Park. I don’ recall any specifics.
  • We devoted one day to Dungeons and Dragons. I am pretty sure that my friend from my insurance days, Tom Corcoran, joined us for that occasion. He played a dwarf fighter. I don’t remember what the other characters were, and, even though I designed it, I don’t remember the dungeon. I also have a vague recollection of creating an adventure for Mark’s assassin character, Cnir Edrum.
  • We enjoyed a communal supper, presumably after the D&D game. Al insisted on making pasta from scratch for us. It was definitely good, but I don’t think that he convinced anyone that it was worth all of the effort. He did not insist on making the sauce from scratch. It came from a jar.
Canada Post truck.

Nancy stayed with us for another week or two. We put her to work stuffing envelopes for one of our mailings. This is when I bestowed on her the title of Executive Vice President for International Marketing. We must have included one Canadian addressee.

Gerry came back to visit us a year or two later with a friend of his. I remember much less about that occasion. They stayed with us for a night or two. They probably made additional stops in the Northeast.


I also remember that Craig Kolbitz, a good friend from my army days in Albuquerque in 1971, evidently somehow found my telephone number and address. He called and then came over and visited us one evening. I don’t remember much about the occasion. I don’t think that he revealed much about what he had been doing in the interim. I have not heard from him again in the subsequent decades.


Sue’s sister Betty and her husband Shawn (or maybe Shaun or Sean) Arrowsmith came over for supper at least once. At the time he was a sous chef at the restaurant at Bradley International Airport. That restaurant, which has been closed for decades, was outside of the secured area in the old terminal. It had quite a good reputation.

Their visit to Rockville must have been in late fall or winter. Shawn and I went searching for firewood in the nearby woods. He was a big guy; he brought back a lot more than I did. I started a fire in the fireplace.

They invited us over to their place, too. Their house was surrounded by maple trees. I have a strong recollection of hearing the sounds of the droppings of gypsy moth caterpillars on the roof.

Shawn and Betty did not stay together very long. I don’t know what happened.


The Corcorans—Tom, Patti, Brian and Casey—also came over at least once. I fixed country-style ribs and sauerkraut for them. The meal was a big hit, especially for Brian who had understandably low expectations for such a foreign-sounding meal.

We might have had other visitors, but I don’t remember them.


We made the drive from Rockville to the Corcorans’ house many times. We usually came over for supper and then played games until well after midnight. We were especially appreciative of the suppers. Throughout this period we seldom had, in my dad’s words, “two nickles to rub together”. We almost never went to restaurants. The Corcorans almost always had a special meal for us, often steak. Of course, there was plenty of beer.

This is the good version.

Among the games Trivial Pursuit was a definite favorite. We played many different editions. Careers was also a favorite, but we soon discovered that the original version, which had uranium prospecting, Hollywood, expedition to the moon, and at sea as possible careers, was a much better game than the more recent versions. Clue (regular and its expanded versions) were pretty good. When everyone got tired we played Yahtzee.

I also remember enjoying a murder mystery game based on Clue that required playing a scene on a VHS tape. We tried dozens of other games as well. Our basement is full of games, and the Corcorans had more than we did.


We also often celebrated New Year’s and several other holidays with the Corcorans. We watched Brian and Casey grow up. Casey was an acrobat, and Brian excelled at taking things apart and putting them back together. He loved to play with go-bots and transformers.

I also remember showing Brian how to do both types of Indian wrestling—standing up and lying down, the way that Andy Burnett did on Walt Disney.


The closest thing that we had to a vacation during the “anything for a buck” days was a Murder Mystery Weekend near Lancaster, PA. It was staged by some actors in and around a fairly nice hotel in the countryside. The theme was a set of killings in a mob family. My character was one of the family members. He was named Dominic (called “Nicky”), and he was newly married.

I picked up a white fedora somewhere and rented a realistic stage pistol with a shoulder holster from a costume shop in Hartford. I was really ready to get into it. After all, even by that time I had read at least a hundred murder mysteries.

The organizers made me stow the pistol away. Didn’t they know that the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun? I should have quoted Charlton Heston to them: “I’ll give you my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.” I still wore the shoulder holster.

Could you stab him in the heart with a pocketknife?

The first murder occurred pretty much in full sight of everyone at the first gathering. A fairly large Italian guy wearing a three-piece suit was found dead. He had been stabbed in the heart with a pocketknife.

It is a thoroughly documented fact that all Italian mobsters wear sleeveless undershirts.So, the knife, even if it missed the broad lapels would have needed to penetrate the suit coat, the vest, the shirt, the undershirt, the skin, and the rib cage. Maybe Andre the Giant could kill someone who was wearing all this armor with one casual blow with a pocketknife, but I didn’t see anyone in our group who looked capable of such a feat. Even if sufficient thrust was employed, I would bet on the blade breaking or sliding to one side before it penetrated all of those layers of protection..

Several scenes that involved some or all of the actors were staged. One took place on the Strasburg Rail Road. I don’t remember the details.

We were allowed to submit written questions. Mine was about some flowers that a character had reportedly ordered for some reason. I was told that the answer, which I don’t remember at all, had important information, which I should share with the other guests. I dutifully disclosed it to everyone with whom I conversed.

At the end everyone was supposed to write up a solution. The best one, as judged by the organizers, won a prize. No one got the solution right. The person to whom the prize was awarded missed out on most of the clues entirely. She had spent most of her time shopping in Lancaster.

Deadly in the hand of a small woman.

The revealed murderer was the smallest member of the cast, perhaps 5’2″ and 100 pounds. She was absolutely incapable of committing the first murder. In fact, I don’t think she could have killed him with a pocket knife if he was already unconscious and wearing nothing but his sleeveless undershirt.

In addition, she had no motive for the other crimes attributed to her. That is, the personality that we knew had no motive. She supposedly had multiple personality disorder1, and the diminutive body that she shared with two other personalities committed the other two murders. Give me a break.


For Halloween of 1981 or 1982 Sue and I drove to Brooklyn for a costume party thrown for her friend Eddie Lancaster from Brothers Specifications in Detroit. Sue dressed as Peter Pan. I came disguised as a college professor who never got tenure. It was a long drive, but no drive was too long for Sue if friends were at the other end. She loved to sit and talk with old friends, and she made new ones very easily.


We also drove up to Vermont to see Sue’s friend Diane Robinson at least once or twice. I met her husband Phil Graziose, one of the Air Force guys from the Alaska adventure. He seemed like a nice guy. He set up a small business in the St. Johnsbury area as a locksmith. They lived in a trailer park, a new experience for me. There were things that I could talk about with Phil, even football! I had nothing in common with Diane and her myriad relatives, almost all of whom stayed close to home. Sue absolutely adored this family. I have never quite understood this. Maybe she appreciated the way that they all got along.


In 1981 or 1982 we were invited to Dave Tine’s house. His television had a huge rear-projection screen. It was the first “home entertainment center” we had ever seen. His sister (whose name I don’t remember) owned and operated a retail store name Video Land. It sold hardware as well as videos. We watched Nine to Five together. This was something of a real treat for us. We almost never went to movies. They were too expensive.


Sue’s family in Enfield held get-togethers pretty often. I usually accompanied her. I really struggled at these affairs. I had a hard time talking with most of her Enfield relations. The big exception was her youngest sister, Betty. She hosted a large party at her parents’ house most summers. She set up areas for volleyball and croquet. Also, Betty’s mother had a swimming pool. Tom Corcoran also attended most of these affairs.

Jack and his wife.

I think that it was at one of these parties that I met Jack LaPlante, the brother-in-law of Sue’s sister Karen. He worked and coached at Hartford Public High School, which over the years became a rough place. He has been inducted into the school’s Hall of Fame.

I always enjoyed talking with Jack. He was fascinated by the fact that we still played board games with other adults.

Jeffrey Campbell and our guide Jackson in Lake Manyara National Park in 2015.

Betty’s friends were much more approachable for me than the relatives on the Locke side. The lives of the latter seemed to center around trucks and cars. I liked all of Betty’s friends. Karen Shapiro, who worked with disadvantaged kids, ended up marrying Paul Locke, and so I saw her occasionally. Jeffrey Campbell, a pharmacist whom Betty has always called Pancho, was around from time to time. In 2015 he came with us on our epic trip to Tanzania, which is described in great detail here.

I also remember a friend of Betty’s named Harriet, but I don’t remember much about her.


I remember that we drove to Rhode Island once to visit Victor Barrett, with whom Sue worked at F.H. Chase, and his wife, Mary Codd2. They ran a small business called Coddbarrett Associates that developed computer-generated graphics for companies.

It was interesting to talk to another couple who were struggling as pioneers in an infant industry. Their work needed a lot more processing power than ours, and so their financial commitment was greater. On the other hand, they also had better credentials. Actually, everyone had better credentials than we did.

One thing that I remember vividly is that Victor and Mary almost never cooked. They either ate frozen dinners or something from a restaurant. Sue and I never did the first and almost never did the second.


Sue had an annual tradition of visiting her land in Monson, MA, on the weekend of Columbus Day when the foliage was at its peak, and the weather was to her liking. I accompanied her a few times. She actually built an outhouse and a tree platform up there. The outhouse was trashed by someone and the tools that she left up there were stolen.

She could sometimes talk her nephew, Travis LaPlante, and/or Brian Corcoran into making the pilgrimage with her.


Sue planned a weekend outing for us in Mt. Washington, NH. We stayed at the famous hotel5 in Bretton Woods. We took the cog railroad up to the top of the mountain, which is one of the windiest places on earth.

Sue planned on me playing golf on the links course that is adjacent to the hotel, but I did not feel like it.

I think that Tom and Patti Corcoran joined us for one day. I seem to recall that Sue and Patti played Tennis. Well, Patti played, and they both chased Sue’s errant shots.

I remember that the hotel hosted a Trivial Pursuit game in the evening. Sue and I played as a team. We really cleaned up. One of the other guests asked us if we had memorized all the answers.


Sandy Bailey, whom we knew from our installation at Harland-Tine, invited us to her house in Manchester, CT, for an evening of games. We were, as usual, late. A group of people were playing Dark Tower, the game advertised on TV by Orson Wells. It seemed like a very interesting game, but I never got around to playing it. I later tried to purchase a copy, but I could not find one.

We met Sandy’s housemate, a guy who worked for the Digital Equipment Corporation. Of course, he tried to convince me that we should convert our ad agency software to run on DEC machines. He even gave me a handbook for DEC’s version of the BASIC language.


In the fall of 1987 Sue and I decided to drive to Washington, DC, for the weekend. We left on Friday afternoon, October 9, and got as far as New Jersey. We stopped at a motel off of the Interstate. The person at the desk seemed surprised that we wanted to stay the whole night. When Sue asked for more towels, he went across the street to a store and bought some.

We laughed about it; it was not that sleazy-looking from the outside.

When we arrived in Washington we spent the day at the National Zoo. We got to see the baby pandas. A male orangutan effortlessly hurled his poop over the fence at the tourists. Overall it was a very pleasant experience, even though I was never able to spot the kiwi in its dark cage.

We stayed overnight at Howard Johnson’s. When we went to supper, the other people in the restaurant seemed somehow different. It wasn’t until later that we realized that we had chosen to come to Washington on the same day as about 200,000 gay people who were in town for “The Great March”.

On Sunday the parking was a nightmare, but the Smithsonian’s museums were not crowded at all.


In late 1985 my sister Jamie surprisingly reentered our lives She had recently married Joe Lisella. Joe, Jamie, and her daughters moved to Simsbury, CT. For the next fourteen years I spent as much time as I could with her and her family, which grew fairly rapidly after she came to New England. Those visits and trips are documented here.


1. This phenomenon is now known as dissociative identity disorder, which is a better name because of the vague nature of the word personality. I personally suspect that the kind postulated in this story occurs more often in the movies than in real life.

2. Mary Codd’s story can be read at her website, which is marycodd.com.

3. The Whalers’ last season was 1997. The Civic Center underwent drastic remodeling in 2004 and in 2021 it is called the XL Center.

4. My recollection of the event was faulty. When I have told this story to people I have claimed that neither of the teams made the playoffs that year. I apologize for the unintentional misinformation. The Whalers lost to Montreal in the first round of the playoffs.

5. Since 2015 it has been called the Omni Mt. Washington Resort.

1971 SBNM March-June Part 4: The Guys in MPCO

The cast of characters. Continue reading

This entry contains my recollections of guys in MPCO SBNM. A few stories are from after the Air Force’s takeover.

I tried to determine what became of the guys whose names I remembered. In the footnotes I have included current information in 2020 about anyone whom I could locate on the Internet or otherwise.

The Second Platoon: I am not positive that Jim Anderson, who lived with his wife off-base, was in our platoon. I don’t have any recollection of dealing with him on duty. My only recollection of him was the visit that a few of us made to his house. It is described here.

I think that Marshall Anderson, whose home was, I think, in Minnesota, arrived shortly before the Air Force took over. I don’t remember seeing him in the barracks, but almost everyone in the platoon lived there. My only strong recollection of him is from the night on which Sgt. Hungate made me and the other guys on the police desk announce over the radio that the police station was “under duress”. This occurred after the Air Force took over. When it has been posted this episode will be described in some detail at a link here.

Charlie Antonelli1 arrived a few weeks after our group did. His room was close to mine, but he did not hang around with my close friends. Al Williams, who knew him better than I did, called him Mad Charles. He played a starring role in the Commander Commander incident, which is described here.

Sgt. Lorenzo Bailey was my boss when I worked on the desk for the second platoon. Those days are described here. He lived off-base. By the time that the Air Force took over he was not around. I don’t know where he was assigned.

Peter Baker was also, I think, from Minnesota. He definitely arrived a few weeks after we did and lived in the second platoon. His involvement in the July 4 celebrations will be discussed in the entry for that amazing day.

I think of Roy Banks and Dale Brooks as a matched pair. They both arrived a month or two after we did and lived in the second platoon barracks. When I was back on the police desk with the Air Force we often used one or the other of them for important tasks. They were both competent and reliable.

BedellAs I recall, Tom Bedell graduated from Kalamazoo College. He was a very good friend. His invaluable contributions to the Wiffle Ball games are described here. I also remember him as being the most enthusiastic performer in my manic attempts to bring to life an “air-chestra” to play the overture from Rossini’s William Tell. The July 4 incident occurred in his room.

He wrote poetry at MPCO SBNM, and he wanted to become a professional writer. He succeeded. He has published many articles, mostly about golf and beer. I read one in a magazine on a US Airways flight and got in touch with him. In 2020 he lives in Vermont. I follow him (@TomBedell) on Twitter.

BrownTom Brachna was from the Akron, OH, area, and I think that he lives in Akron in 2020. He arrived at the base a week or two after I did. His room was directly across from mine, and he was also a close friend. I remember him as being a big fan of the Cleveland Browns2. He had an intense dislike for the Cincinnati Bengals, the upstart team that adopted nearly the same colors as his beloved Brownies, and the treacherous Paul Brown. We went to at least one bar together, as is described here.

Russ Eakle was already on the base when we arrived. I think that he was the only guy from the group already in the platoon who was still around for the Air Force take over. He was also the only guy who rubbed me the wrong way. I kept my distance from him. His approach to police work is sketched here. He also participated in some memorable events after the Air Force took control.

Sgt. Glenn, our platoon sergeant, lived off-base. He hardly ever showed up in the barracks. In fact I have no memory of him ever being there. His attitude toward work was equally laissez faire. I am not sure when he shipped out or where he went.

Randy Hjelm also lived off-base. I think that he arrived at the base before our group did. Randy’s equipment was always in perfect shape. In fact, his whole appearance was exemplary. However, he always was, or at least appeared to be, stoned. I think that he was from Jacksonville, FL, and still lives there in 2020.

My time workin on the police desk with Randy Kennedy only lasted a few weeks until his ETS. Those days are described here.

Al Williams, Bob Willems, Ned Wilson, and Dave Zimmerman were with me in E-10-4 at Ft. Gordon. Ned lived off-base and worked in traffic. Bob and Dave were in other patrol platoons. I saw Bob all the time but Dave not as much. Bob also played a major role in the July 4 incident. I had many great times with A.J., as much as anyone. I have not kept in touch with any of these guys.

I have less clear memories of the following guys. I remember what they did, but I cannot summon their names.

  • The details about the guy living in the barracks from KC who told me that he stole a television and that he wanted to go to Vietnam can be found here.
  • When I started working on the desk I sold my portable radio to a guy from, I think, Minnesota. I offered a fair price. He made an annoying counteroffer. I should have told him to take a hike, but I accepted it.
  • El_CaminoOne guy from one of the southern states had an El Camino. When it wouldn’t start, he enlisted me to push it for him so that he could pop the clutch. This was not one of my finest moments. The same guy refused to use the clutch when he drove one of the MP trucks. He always speed-shifted.
  • I remember taking a newcomer from Chicago out on patrol and showing him the best places to hide the vehicle if you wanted to read, write some letters, or take a nap.

Headquarters: I did not know any of these people very well:

  • Captain Dean sponsored the timed mile described here.He also sponsored the first half of the 4th of July celebration.
  • Lt. Hall’s two unusual encounters with Al Williams are described here and here.
  • SP4 Orsini’s search for a competent typist is described here.
  • A guy named Roone was in charge of taking care of the grounds. I don’t think that he was an MP. Everyone called him Mr. Greenjeans. I hardly knew him, but I saw him almost every day.
  • A guy whose first name (or more likely nickname) was Rowdy was the animal control guy. He also was Doc Malloy’s doubles partner in tennis.
  • SSI am not sure that I ever knew the supply sergeant’s name, but he did me a big favor. I had noticed that a spare door with no handles had been gathering dust in the supply area in the basement. The supply sergeant was scheduled to ETS a few weeks after we arrived. On his last day as supply sergeant I asked him if I could have the door. He said “Take the m***** f*****.” I promptly carried it up to my room, and I laid it across two drawers that I had removed from my dresser and balanced on one edge. It made a perfect table for my stereo, books, and other items. The space in the dresser formerly occupied by the drawers was ideal for my records. Everyone was impressed.

Law Enforcement: Everything that I remember about the other three people in the Law Enforcement Office (Capt. Huppmann, Sgt. Edison, and SP4 Duffy) can be found here.

Other PlatoonsKolbitz: I was good friends who were assigned to one of the other patrolling platoons. Craig Kolbitz3, from Racine, WI, might have been in the same platoon as Bob Willems. If I had to guess, I would put them both in the first platoon, the one that we ordinarily relieved. They were definitely not in the fourth platoon, whose rooms were on the second floor of our building.

Craig hung around and philosophized with the guys on our floor quite often. I don’t think that he played Wiffle Ball with us, but one time his hometown honey (Mary?) dropped by for a visit and watched one of our games. Afterwards Craig kept telling everyone how much she was taken with Bob Willems. I knew that this was baloney because my sidearm sinker was really working that day, and I was almost untouchable. To any girl’s eyes the rest of the guys would have merely been scenery while I was working my magic on the mound.

Doc_TennisDoc Malloy4, who lived on the second floor of our wing of the MP barracks, the home of the fourth platoon, was one of the most amazing people I have ever met. His hair was MUCH longer than anyone else’s. He also had TWO jobs on the side. He was so good looking that he was able to find work as a model. He also gave tennis lessons. One of his clients, as I recall, was the wife of the base commander, General Nye!

I have no idea how he made these arrangements. We did not have telephones in the barracks, and, of course, there were no cell phones yet.

How, you may ask, did Doc get away with having long hair as an MP on a military base? The answer is “very carefully.” Doc had his hair cut so that the hair even with and below his ears was fairly short. The hair above his ears hung down and disguised this fact. When he got ready for duty he positioned his white MP hat on a chair upside down with the bill toward him. He then leaned over and with both hand stuffed his long hair into the hat. He then pressed the hair-filled hat onto his head. Sometimes a couple of attempts were required to perfect the look. On duty he NEVER took his hat off, which, as anyone who has been in the military can tell you, meant that he never went inside. Somehow he pulled it off, even after the Air Force took charge.

Doc represented the MP Company in the base tennis tournaments. He easily won the singles competition. The doubles was a little more difficult. Nobody in the company played at anything close to his level. He selected the animal control guy, Rowdy, as his partner because he seemed to be the best at taking instructions, and he had a passable serve. I think that they did win the doubles tournament. I remember that their basic strategy was for Rowdy to get out of the way after the first volley.

Doc's ideas were two years before Pong!

Doc’s ideas were two years before Pong!

Doc used to bug me to help him design a game based on tennis, ideally for a computer, but he was amenable to the idea of a board game. At the time I had taken exactly one programming class in a language that was used nowhere outside of Ann Arbor, and we had coded our programs on IBM cards! This was 1971: there were no video games, not even in arcades, and no personal computers. If I wrote something, it would need to be text-based with little back and forth. Playing against another person was inconceivable. Playing against a random number generator might be feasible, but how? Text-based terminals existed, but they were rare and expensive.

I had a fair amount experience at playing board games, but I had never designed one. I had no idea where to start. I was savvy enough to understand that ideas were a dime-a-dozen. Execution is key, and marketing trumps execution. This project was definitely not worth my time. I have often wondered if Doc ever did anything with his idea. Atari released Pong in 1973, but it was available only at arcades and fairs even then.

One other MP deserves a section of his own. Charlie Long5 was a legend when our group arrived at MPCO SBNM. Everyone already called him Crazy Charlie Long. He was a dyed-in-the-wiik Texan. My impression was that he was from a small town. He certainly was not from one of the big cities. A member of the fourth platoon, he lived on the second floor on the west wing of the barracks in one of the corner rooms near the parking lot. It was the only room in the whole barracks with a small balcony.

Charlie also had a temper. When he got upset, things tended to get broken. Disclaimer: I personally witnessed only the last of these incidents. So, please mentally insert the word “allegedly” somewhere in every sentence.

Don't get on the wrong side of Roy or Charlie.

Don’t get on the wrong side of Roy or Charlie.

Charlie had a friend in the fourth platoon named Ewald (pronounced EE walled). I am not sure that I ever heard anyone call him by his first name. Ewald had a motorcycle. One day after the fourth platoon had worked the midnight shift, Ewald, who must have had the previous night off, decided to do some rather loud figure-eights on his motorcycle beneath Charlie’s window. After a few minutes of this Charlie emerged on the balcony, leapt over the railing, and wrestled Ewald off of his bike in the same manner that Roy Rogers used to wrestle bad guys off of their horses by leaping from a tree. I never learned the result of this scuffle, but I also never heard of anyone trying that stunt with a motorcycle again.

During slow periods while on patrol Charlie liked to use his .45 to hunt jackrabbits, which were not uncommon out in the undeveloped area in the southern part of the base. I don’t think that he ever hit one. If he did, there probably would not have been much left of it.

An MP truck that he was driving on patrol one day did not meet Charlie’s standards. He got out of the vehicle and punished it by firing several roundss from his pistol into its side. I don’t think that this fixed the problem.

Aside from the time that Al Williams accidentally discharged his .45 at guardmount (described here), I never heard of any other MP ever firing his weapon in the ten months that I was in Albuquerque. I don’t know if Charlie ever got caught; I don’t think so.

Early one morning when I was working the desk with two Air Force guys, Charlie, who had been working the previous shift, stormed into the PMO, loudly vocalized some expletives, and stomped up to the solid wood police desk, which stood at least five feet high. Suddenly Charlie grabbed the edge of the desk with both hands and bit a small chunk out of it. He then spit it out and abruptly departed. The three of us on the other side of the desk looked at one another and then broke out laughing. Maybe we should have detained him for destruction of government property, but it never occurred to us. I should have written “tried to detain him” in the previous sentence.

Although he was also in the notorious fourth platoon, Homer Sandridge6, a graduate of the University of Virginia, was the polar opposite of Crazy Charlie. He was very calm about life and fate. Homer and I had a few philosophical discussions the details of which have escaped me. We might have solved the “troubles” in Ireland or the dispute over Kashmir.

I played golf with Don Beeson and Terry Burnett. I also played a little bridge with Terry. The details are here.

Paul Calandra came to Albuquerque a month or more after we did. He was a major player in the July 4 incident. I did not know him well.

PattonSgt. Suarez, the platoon leader of the third platoon, was a dedicated lifer. He participated in good-natured kidding about the real soldiers as typified by himself and the movie Patton as opposed to the rest of us slackers and the much more popular (in MPCO SBNM) M*A*S*H. When Patton won the Oscar for best picture, he was in his glory.

Sgt. Suarez’s favorite MP was named Kramer. If I ever knew his first name, I have forgotten it. He gave more tickets than anyone, even Russ Eakle. He also missed more duty than anyone because a fairly high percentage of the people that he cited disputed his action in court.

Kramer, like Russ Eakle, longed for more action. One day something occurred that induced Kramer to engage someone in a vehicular chase. Kramer was not able to overtake the offending vehicle before it exited the main gate. Kramer kept up the pursuit on the streets of Albuquerque. I am not sure, but I think that the chase ended in an accident without injuries.

Kramer got in trouble for this. Our policy was never to exceed the speed limit for a chase, and we were NEVER allowed to leave the base in an MP vehicle. What made it worse was that Kramer did not have a civilian driver’s license, and the Albuquerque police officers were not impressed by his MP armband.

If I ever met Jim Jacobson, I don’t remember it. However, when he came across a mention of MPCO SBNM in one of my blog entries, he contacted me by email. I asked him when he had been stationed in Albuquerque and what he did. Here is what he replied: “I worked various security positions till early 1971. Then became a base escort working out of the PMO on Texas next to the MP Co. I worked under Sgt Lezuski (sp) until he was promoted to 1st Sgt of the MP Co under Capt Dean. July 1971 I was promoted to Sgt/E5 and was a patrol supv with AF Sgt Carson and under AF Sgt “Tilly”. Being married and living off base I didn’t get a chance to know new people other than on my flight. Nov 1971 discharged from the service.”

Other guys whom I have only fragmentary memories of:

  • There was a guy named Ayers who came from a southern state. I think that he lived off-base. He called himself General Ayers, and I like to joke around with him.
  • The other guys with whom I played golf are described here.
  • We tried to put together a flag football team to represent the company against other units. The chief organizer was a guy from Florida. We definitely had some practices. We may have even played a game or two before the merger of the bases put the kibosh on it.

1. I have no way to verify it, but I think that Charlie died in 2020, just as I was beginning this project. The obituary is here.

2. The Browns moved to Baltimore in 1996 and became the Ravens. The current Cleveland Browns team first took the field in 1999.

3. I found Craig Kolbitz on the Internet. In 2020 he lives in the Seattle area. He and his wife owned a couple of bars there. He went back to Racine recently to give a speech. It is on Youtube here. Craig came to visit Sue and me once in Rockville in the late seventies or early eighties.

Doc_Beach4. Doc Malloy is now considered a legendary tennis instructor on Hilton Head Island. I located him on Facebook, where he has posted lots of photos of himself with nubile young women.

Long5. I found an obituary in 2020 for a Charlie Long of Kilgore (east of Dallas) TX. The age matches up and the face looks vaguely familiar. You can view it here and here. I have no way to verify whether or not this is Crazy Charlie, but I suspect that it is.


6. In 2020 Homer Sandridge is living in Arnold, MD. I think that he is into sailing.