I will be posting one chapter per week of my latest book, ICE DREAMS.
Please note that the numerical chapters are autobiographical. The alphabetical
chapters are pure fiction.
The letters from Lorraine
were always at least six pages long and sometimes longer. She was working in
the Maryland Department of Statistical Records, preparing monthly reports
compiled from death certificates. On breaks from her work she typed part or all
of a letter to me. If she finished it at
home, that part was handwritten.
She would tell me about
the baby kicking and punching, things she was assembling for its arrival,
maternity clothes she was making and borrowing. There were a number of babies
on the way. My mother, my cousin Darlene, and one of Lorraine’s girlfriends were
also expecting babies. That meant there were baby showers to attend. It was
snowing when Lorraine was on her way to one of the showers. She slipped in the
snow getting off the bus, but caught herself. The girl who got off the bus
behind her also slipped and she fell down in the snow and slush. No one got off
the bus to help the girl.
Lorraine was having
trouble figuring out how to pay the bills. She knew there were car payments and
car insurance payments. She didn’t know how much they were or where to send
them. There was at least a two week response time between the time she mailed a
letter with a question for me and when she received a letter back from me
answering the question.
One of the first problems
she had with the car was getting it back from Al. The day I had to leave, I
couldn’t find anyone in the family who would/could drive me to Baltimore-Washington
International Airport. My flight was on Monday morning and the Airport was at
least twenty miles from Lorraine’s family’s home. Finally, I offered Al $25 if
he would drive Lorraine and I to the Airport and drive Lorraine back. He
agreed.
That morning, I had to go
several miles to where he lived, pick up Al and his wife, drive back and pick
up Lorraine and my luggage. Then I drove to the Airport. I told Al we would
have to wait until the first of the month the $25. That was satisfactory with
him. After I had departed on the plane, Al drove Lorraine back to her house. He
then drove the car to his house.
Al was supposed to bring
the car to Lorraine in the next few days afterward and ride the bus back to his
house. Evidently, there was something wrong with his own car and he began using
our car to go to work, run errands, and so on. To make matters worse, Lorraine
did not have his phone number or address. Her sister’s husband, Jim, was a
claims adjustor for Liberty Mutual Insurance. He warned her that our car
insurance probably would not cover any damages if Al was using the car without
our permission. Lorraine was writing me about this on the 10th of
the month and I didn’t even get her letter until the 21st. She
wanted me to send her Al’s phone number and she was wondering if she should
still pay him the $25. Whatever answer I could give her did not reach her until
the beginning of February.
We had rented a garage in
which to store the car for the year that I was away. Once Al returned the car,
Lorraine would have to wait until Jim was at the house so she could have him
put the car in the garage (which was probably a half mile away) and make sure
the garage was securely locked.
There was no phone service
on Shemya. There was a phone connection in the orderly room to headquarters in
Anchorage. There was a secure phone in the Comm Center in the Operations
Building. These phones were for official business only and were on a military
network. I don’t think there was any interface with commercial phone companies.
On the other side of the Island there were contractors who were building the
new barracks and other buildings. They had phone service on which they could
call their families.
There was a MARS shack.
MARS is Military Amateur Radio Service. Air Force and Army personnel who were
“hams” (radio amateurs with a license for amateur radio) could use the
equipment in the shack. They would sometimes run a phone patch for one of the
men. This involved finding a radio amateur operating someplace close to where a
phone patch was desired. I wanted a phone patch to Baltimore, Maryland. The
amateur in the MARS shack would try to make contact with an amateur in the Baltimore
area. That ham operator in the Baltimore area would call the phone where
Lorraine was living and connect the phone to his radio transmitter. We could
then talk in a one-at-a-time conversation. She would say what she wanted to say
and then say “Over.” I could then talk until I was finished, then say “Over.”
That only happened one time while I was on Shemya. I think it was in October or
November. One time when I was in the MARS shack hoping a ham from Maryland
would call in, we got a call from a man who said that he was also in the Air
Force. When we looked up his call sign it was General Curtis LeMay!
Lorraine’s letters were
filled with declarations of her love for me and reasons for why she loved me
and how much she missed me. My letters also contained protestations of love,
but I often included graphic descriptions of our lovemaking. She said that she
liked them, but was also embarrassed by them.
The walls of our makeshift
barracks were soon plastered with pin-ups from Playboy and other similar
magazines. That was short-lived. The chaplain complained to our commanding
officer. The First Sergeant came into the building and ordered them removed.
The first or second Sunday
that I was there, the noise in the large bay was unbearable. There were radios
on, tuned to the only radio station. There were tape recorders playing other
music. A group of men were playing cards and talking loudly. Another man was
playing his guitar and singing. I thought I would go mad.
I went outside and decided
to follow a sign pointing down a path “To The Beach.” I followed the path which
was going across tundra. I found out later on that during World War II there
had been a number of fox holes dug in that area. The tundra had grown over
them, but if you stepped onto a foxhole, you would fall through the layer of
tundra into the foxhole and it would be difficult for anyone to find you.
I walked about a half mile
down to the beach. There were huge rocks as tall as a two story building. The
waves would crash into them. I sat down on a flat rock along the beach. As I
listened to the crashing and roar of the waves, I remembered my last Sunday at
Port Mission in Baltimore. A woman sang a solo that I could hear it in my memory
just as when she sang.
In times like these you need a Savior,
In times like these you need an anchor;
Be very sure, be very sure,
Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!
This Rock is Jesus, Yes He's the One,
This Rock is Jesus, the only One;
Be very sure, be very sure,
Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!
In times like these you need the Bible,
In times like these, O be not idle;
Be very sure, be very sure,
Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!
This Rock is Jesus, Yes, He's the One,
This Rock is Jesus, the only One;
Be very sure, be very sure,
Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!
In times like these I have a Savior,
In times like these I have an anchor;
I'm very sure, I'm very sure
My anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!
This Rock is Jesus, Yes He's the One,
This Rock is Jesus, the only One;
Be very sure, be very sure,
Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!
by Ruth Caye Jones
It
was a very relaxing experience. When it became dusk, I started back. Before I
reached the path, it was pitch black night. I couldn’t find the path or even
see anything ahead. I was walking on tundra and it was spongy. After a while, I
stepped into a tiny creek running underneath the tundra. I pulled out my
soaking wet boot and trouser leg. I knew that in this darkness I would probably
walk in circles. I was really scared. I was too far away for anyone to hear if
I yelled.
I
decided to stop and slowly turn around to see if there was anything to see. As
I slowly turned, at first I saw nothing. I heard the pounding surf, but I
couldn’t tell from what direction. In the distance, I heard a pack of wild
foxes making their strange yelps. Maybe my eyes were adjusting to the dark,
because in one direction I saw a faint, blurry red light, then a faint, blurry
green light. The red and green lights slowly alternated. I realized that what I
was seeing was the rotating light atop the control tower. I knew that if I
walked toward those lights it would bring me to the mess hall or our barracks,
or maybe the runway.
Between
wherever I was and my destination, the barracks, lie a large stretch of tundra.
Every step was treacherous. I would put a foot forward and test to see if there
was firm ground underneath. If there wasn’t, I had to detour. I kept walking
toward the pulsing green, then red, glow in the distance. My progress was slow,
but I had a wet foot and leg to remind me of what could happen if I carelessly
pushed on without testing each step.
The
lights finally brought me to the middle of one side of our barracks. I didn’t
see the building as I approached it. I only knew it was the barracks when I was
almost upon it. I walked along the side of the building, relieved to be off the
tundra. When I walked into the building the lights were out and everyone was
sleeping in their racks. That must mean it was well past midnight. The mids
shift had gone to work and the eves shift had eaten, come back to the barracks
and turned in for the night. I took off my wet clothes, took a shower, and went
to bed for only a few hours sleep because I had to get up for work on days.
Living
in the improvised barracks had many inconveniences. Just one of these was that there
were no lockers - no foot lockers and no wall lockers. Another was that there
were no chairs or tables. Our duffel bags were our chest of drawers. Our rack
was our table and chair.
Lorraine
was living in the same house with her parents and her maternal grandparents.
During the first month I was gone, Lorraine’s sister and her husband went away
on a trip. They left their infant daughter in the care of Lorraine’s mother.
The little girl was a toddler, just beginning to walk. She was still in
diapers. One evening Lorraine was sitting on the couch writing a letter to me.
The little girl, Sharon, was toddling around the living room exploring what she
could get into. Lorraine’s mother had left the room to get a clean diaper for
Sharon. When Sharon saw her coming with a diaper, she ran away, holding onto
the sofa. When she reached Lorraine, she slapped the stationery onto the floor
and then sat down on the pages of the letter. I received a scented letter.
I
met a grand Christian friend at the chapel service. He was Army Master Sergeant
Malcolm Donahoo. The first thing he would tell you about himself was that he
was a born again believer in Jesus Christ. The second thing he would tell you
is that he was from the “yellow clay hills of southern Illinois.” He had an
interesting story about J.C.Penney’s store in Alexandria, Virginia where his
wife was living. He wrote a letter to the store and enclosed a check for $25.
He asked them to call his wife on her birthday, ask her to come down to the
store that they had a surprise for her. When she arrived, they were to give her
a $25 gift certificate and tell her that her husband sends her a Happy Birthday
and wishes he could be there.
The
store manager called her and asked if she could be ready at noon on her
birthday. He would send a car to bring her to the store. The car he sent was a
limousine. When she arrived, the manager met her and escorted her to the staff
dining room. She ate lunch with the staff and afterward there was a birthday
cake. The staff sang “Happy Birthday.” Afterward the manager stood up and said,
“Mrs. Donahoo, your husband regrets that he cannot celebrate your birthday with
you. He sent this $25 gift certificate for you. Take your time shopping in the
store. When you are ready to go home, have a clerk call me, and I will send our
driver to escort you back to the car.”
Sergeant Donahoo had tears in his eyes as he finished the story.
Once
a month, the mess hall had a luau for us. The Japanese and Filipino crews
alternated months in being in charge of the luau. There was Hawaiian music
playing and the mess hall would be decorated as if it were on a tropical isle
instead of an Alaskan isle. The serving line had a variety of hot foods. They
were all special. There might be a steamboat of beef from which the server
would cut off slices for you or giant pepper hams or stuffed turkeys. In the
center where the condiments and beverage generally were located, there was a
long row of tables with a vast assortment of delicacies. The centerpiece was
always an ice sculpture. There were tubs of cracked ice with every sort of
soda. The competition was fierce between the Japanese and Filipino crews over
who could put on the best luau. The men would fan the flames of the competition
by bragging up the luau to the other crew when it came on duty a couple days
later.
Riding
the bus to work was just like being on a bus crowded with high school students
going to an out of town game. There were always a half dozen loud mouths who
joked and guffawed and harassed one or more of the men every ride. Going back
after work it was usually quieter. Everyone was tired.
From
Lorraine’s letter of January 13, 1960:
“Darling,
keep looking ahead but don’t dwell on how long the year “stretches out.” This
will be a profitable year; you mark my words. Don’t allow your depression to
blind you and hold you back. As your wife, let me tell you what I think.
Depression is going to be your worst enemy. I will help to sharpen your weapons
but you are the one that will have to fight. Just don’t forget to sharpen mine
for I already have a raging battle going.
“Our
mail goes so slowly. I want you to read this now but it is impossible. So the
heck with it. I’m thankful that you will read it at all.”
My
reason for going into the Air Force was to try to get a college education. In
my eleventh year of school I was called to the ordained ministry. The first
step was to earn a college degree and then attend seminary for three years.
When I graduated from high school I did not have the money to go to college. I
worked as a draftsman for Western Electric and they paid for night school
courses at Johns Hopkin University. I took the courses for about a year, but it
seemed that it would take forever to complete four years of college taking one
or two courses a semester.
Someone
told me that I could make much faster progress taking night school courses in
military service. The classes were given on base. Sometimes, the military would
send you to college full time. I enlisted in the Air Force. Right away they
sent me to Syracuse University for almost a year for courses to prepare me for
my Air Force specialty. In the time that I was there, I earned 24 semester
hours credit. With the credits I earned at Johns Hopkin I now had more than a
year’s college.
There
were no courses offered on Shemya. However, the Lord had a surprise for me.
During the year I was on Shemya, the Air Force offered a college GED test. This
test covered the areas of English composition, English literature, science,
math, psychology, sociology, and history. About a dozen of us signed up to take
the tests. A man flew out from Anchorage to administer the tests. They required one
week of testing. We took a test in the morning, had a break for lunch, then
took another test that afternoon. This continued for five days. The man took
the tests back to Anchorage to be graded. It was weeks before we received the
results. When we received them, I was told that I made the highest score in the
Alaskan theatre and that any college or university would give me credit for a
year of college. I now had two years of college!
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