Fifteen Cent Hamburgers

I was born with a bug – the Entrepreneur bug. My whole life I dreamed of owning my own business, and over the years I have had the opportunity to have several. My earliest recollection of being a businessman was when Eddie Cutshall and I had a Kool-Aid stand in my front yard. We purchased our supplies from my mother; she charged 5 cents for the package of Kool-Aid and 2 cents for the sugar. We served in little 4 ounce paper cups. At 2 cents, we grossed 16 cents per 2 quart package. We had almost a 47% food cost. Looking back, we should have charged 3 cents.

Most kids dreamed of being a fireman or a policeman, I dreamed of business. I gave it a lot of thought, as I remember. Guess that is why I wanted to major in business in college. I dreamed about making money and I figured out that I could make money on peoples desire to have fun. I dreamed about opening a movie theater, a sports complex, etc. Good ideas, but I was only 9.

Pro Cameras. My dad’s entrepreneurial spirit had him involved in different businesses during his home time from flying. He sold Jeeps, milk and cameras. The one I remember most was Pro Cameras. The Pro Camera cost a dollar and was ahead of its time. These were 12 exposure disposable cameras. When the pictures were taken, you mailed in the camera with another buck and got your pictures and a new camera by return mail. My dad was a good artist and was able to design and build a stand that looked like a Pro Camera, and sold Pro Cameras at the Santa Clara County Fair. Dad ended up with cases of cameras.

My new entrepreneurial endeavor was to sell Pro-Cameras. I would set up the camera stand in my front yard and hock cameras to passing traffic. I sold them for 50 cents. Dad just gave them to me to get rid of. I also went door-to-door and took them to school to sell to my school mates. I sold quite a few of them, but not nearly all he had. These cameras actually took pretty good pictures, but they were black and white and color pictures were really surging in popularity. When we moved to Dallas, I remember my dad loading cases of Pro-Cameras into a pick-up truck. Hind site would have had me save a bunch of them .. they might have had some value as collectables.

One of my earlier efforts was being a paperboy. I started out in Dallas where I was a substitute carrier for my friend, Steve Solomon. We carried the afternoon Dallas Times Herald. I would have had my own route, but we moved back to California. My next opportunity for a paper route was after we moved back to San Jose. We were living in Willow Glen and I got a San Jose Mercury route. I had a small route of 34 papers. The paper had a contest to increase circulation so I went out and worked hard, knocking on doors in the evenings, to get new subscribers. I kept adding customers and soon I had my route up to 55 customers. Then one day I got a notice that my route was being split. There was a maximum number of papers a carrier could have, which was 50. So I was back down to fewer papers than I started with!

All the carriers on my corner were 7th and 8th graders, with one 10th grader, whom I will call John, a real nerd. To gain the favor of the cool 7th and 8th graders, John always told us that when he turned 16 his Mom was going to let him drive her car to pick up his papers. On the morning of his 16th birthday I arrived at the corner (a shopping center corner) to get my papers. John was sitting in a new Chevrolet. He said it was his mother’s car and invited us to get in to warm up (it was chilly outside). Several of us got in and were getting warm and listening to the radio, engine running. Then all of a sudden the doors flew open and someone was pulling people out of the car and cussing. The guy pulling kids out was on the driver’s side, so we piled out the passenger side, grabbed our bikes and took off. Apparently it wasn’t John’s mother’s car. Deciding things had quieted down, another carrier and I went back and picked up our papers and went to the all-night Laundromat to fold them. As we sat on a table folding papers, in came a policeman. He told us to get into the squad car and drove us to Juvenile Hall, or Juvie. We were arrested and charged with tampering with an auto. I was processed in and assigned a bunk. I got there in time for first formation. Role was called and we went to breakfast. To say I was scared was an understatement, but I toughed it out and didn’t cry, although I wanted to!

Shortly after breakfast, I was called to see the Juvenile officer. My mother was there. The investigator was releasing me to my mother. He questioned me about the incident and I squealed like a stuck pig! Turned John right in. I didn’t know his full name, but he was a sophomore at Willow Glen High School. My mother said she got a phone call at about 6:30 telling her that her little boy had been arrested. She left Henry with Evelyn and came to get me. I didn’t lose my route because charges were not filed and my mother talked to the route manager.

Back at Monroe Street I got another paper route. This time with the San Jose Evening News and I delivered papers after school. I needed a new bike for my route. I wanted a red Schwinn American. I had saved my money and had the $45 to buy my new bike. The Schwinn American was the latest deal - three speed, middle weight bike. For another five bucks I could get a heavy duty paper carrier rack. It was great. I could put all my papers in the bag and then put the bag on the rack. The first thing my Mom had me do was to go down to the Police Station and register my bike and I got a license tag for my bike. I had that bike a couple of years, then one day Mom sent me to Valley Fair Market to get a few things. I rode my bike to the store and parked it in the rack, but didn’t lock it….we never locked our bikes. While I was in the store, someone took my bike. Never saw it again. Years later, after I returned home from my mission, I got a call from the police telling me they had found the frame to my bike at a pawn shop. I told them to keep it.

I kept that paper route until I started 9th grade. Couldn’t be delivering papers while in high school. Wasn’t cool. Now I had no income, but HEY, I WAS COOL!

Over the next couple of years, I did some odd jobs for Uncle Henry and Uncle Lee and was able to earn some spending money. Between my junior and senior years in high school, I got the job taking care of the school farm. Minimum wage in 1962 was $1.25 per hour but I was being paid $1.92 per hour. BIG BUCKS. During my senior year I was able to get a job with the San Jose Parks and Recreation Department. My cousin Linda was dating one of the recreation supervisors and he hired me. I was making well above minimum wage, but was working only part time, 3 hours after school and 5 hours on Saturday. It was during that time a new phenomenon occurred in our culture; 15 cent hamburgers arrived in San Jose.

The summer after I graduated high school, I was given a new playground in San Jose. I worked 40 hours a week at the largest playground in the system. I had two Recreational Aides who worked at the school as well. It was a good job and we did a lot with the kids, including trips to Candlestick Park to watch Willie Mays, Willie McCovey and the San Francisco Giants. But this was a full time job only in the summer and soon I was back to 20 hours per week. I hated to give up my rec job because I had seniority and was at a prestigious playground, and I was dating one of the Aides. So I went to the McDonald’s near the playground and got a job right off. I worked from 10 until 2. Then I went to my playground job at 2:30. Worked out great. I must have done a pretty good job at McDonald’s because when I got home off my Mission, they hired me right back. When I got into school I applied to McDonald’s near the school. I got that job because of the recommendation I got from my old boss. He gave me a good recommendation and soon I ended up as the night manager and got to wear the red Manager hat. I was then offered a full time manager position.

I was struggling with the decision to take the manager job. To take it I would have to quit school. The owner wanted to retire and she was leaving the store in the charge of her daughter. She wanted to send me to Chicago and McDonald’s training school, HAMBURGER UNIVERSITY. I’d have a degree! She was planning to open several stores and wanted me as her General Manager. Then I could easily move up the corporate ladder. But I was getting married and sure I wanted to be a hamburger slinger the rest of my life.

So I left McDonald’s and the now 17 cent hamburger and went to work selling ladies shoes at Leed’s. It was at this time I got a call form my dad telling me that if I wanted to come to work for the Airlines. He told me to call Vic at Aero Commuter in Burbank. I called and I was hired over the phone. and I moved to North Hollywood and went to work for the airlines. It was here that I was employed when I got married, and worked until I was drafted into the Army.

I had some pretty fun jobs, even mowed a few lawns. I could tell stories about each job, and maybe I will get to that point someday.

AND THE BOTTOM FELL OUT

Let me tell you about my day yesterday. This was a true Murphy’s Law day. I have been trying to get the pool repaired and cleaned since April. I finally got the pool repaired, crystal clear and blue. So on Monday I turned the pump on and it started right up and then it shut down. I waited a few minutes and started it again. Again it started right up and then shut down. I remember that the pump did this once before, before I went to Utah last year. Scott said he had the same problem last summer, but eventually it would start up. As I played with it again on Tuesday, I realized that I was hearing a “click”, which meant the start capacitor was out. So yesterday I decided to take a couple of hours in off in the morning while it was cooler and change out the capacitor. When I got up, it was pouring rain! The weather report didn’t call for rain, just a 20% chance of late afternoon showers … it was 7 AM and it was pouring rain! So I went on into work and figured I could get it done later in the day.

Later in the day! Right! Chad and I took a capacitor off another pump and put it on the offending pump. It worked perfectly, for about 10 seconds and then the capacitor started smoking. Wrong size. So we went to Killeen Propane (an old fashioned hardware store) and got another one. (I have learned over the years that if you want a repair part, go to Killeen Propane first – saves time) Brought it home and installed it. The pump turned right on, then off, like it was doing before. Deciding that it was not the capacitor, we opted to change out pumps and put on the Hayward (Lincoln Town Car of swimming pool pumps). We got it all installed, but needed a jar of pool glue to cement the pipes in place. Since it was dinner time, we went to Wal-Mart to get the glue, and stopped at McDonald’s in Wal-Mart to grab a quick bite. We ordered the dinner and I went to pay for it with an old Wal-Mart merchandise card I had. McDonald’s doesn’t take Wal-Mart merchandise cards (of course). And to top it off, Wal-Mart was out of the glue. I felt like I was at Target.

Then Tyler called me and wanted to know if he and his brothers could come over and go swimming. I felt so bad because all spring and summer I have had to tell kids no. And I hate telling my grandchildren they can’t swim. This pool will be done and kids swimming by this weekend.

As Chad and I were getting ready to go to Wal-Mart on the above trip, when I closed the garage door; it kept going back up. Then we noticed the garage door was askew. I looked closely at the door and a guide wheel was off the track. I put it back in the track and it did the same thing – again and again. So I had to leave the garage door half up and half down. Can’t get it repaired until after work Thursday (of course).

We got the glue at Lowe’s, naturally. Then we went home and glued the pipes in place and turned it on. It sounded great! So we sat back to wait for the pump to start pulling water and waited for the tell tale bubbles in the pool to know we were in business. They never came. So we looked at the pump and realized that the impeller was broken. It was now 7:05 and the pool store closed at 7. So Thursday morning I will attempt to get the part and Chad will put it together. This is not an uncommon repair; it just came at an inoportune time!

To top the day off, when I was going to bed, I poured me a glass of water and the bottom of the glass fell out. I gave up and went to bed! Murphy 5, Frank 0.

Just a note at the end of this entry. I went to Leslie’s Pool Supplies this morning (Thursday) to get the parts I needed. Now, Leslie’s touts itself as being the largest Hayward dealer and parts supplier in Texas. The Hayward Super Pump II is the best and most commonly used pump in the marketplace, and I have the Super Pump II. The parts I needed, an impeller and pump shaft seal, are the most common repair parts needed with this pump. Leslie’s does not have these parts in stock, AND would take 10 working days to get them in … at the earliest. So I called Ocean Quest Pools in Belton and they are trying hard to get me the part, but as of this writing, I have not heard back. If it isn’t available, then we will change out pumps again tonight. One way or the other Chad and I are getting this blanketty blank pump fixed and the pool ready by this weekend. Or I may just fill it in and plant tomatoes and corn and more potatoes.

Our First Night Involved Fleas

We entered the Oakland Temple the morning of August 31, 1968 and when we came out we were husband and wife, married for time and all eternity by the proper authority in one of the many Sealing Rooms in the Temple. It was a beautiful day and it was all we had dreamed it would be. It would be the only August 31st we would spend together for the next three years.

Almost six months later, to the day, February 26, 1969, I entered active duty in the Untied States Army. Jannie took me to the induction station early in the morning where I boarded a bus, bag and baggage, for Fort Ord, California and basic training. By the end of April I was at Fort Rucker waiting for my Advanced Individual Training to begin. I was scheduled to go into Aviation Maintenance, but because I had a high enough GT (General Technical) score on the battery of tests we took in basic, I qualified for Air Traffic Control operator and I was selected to change to that MOS. . Before I entered the Army I worked at the Hollywood – Burbank Airport in Burbank and had become friends with a couple of the controllers working in the airport control tower. Being former military controllers, they told me that I should get into the ATC School, but when I asked about that option when I enlisted, I was told that I had to have a secret clearance to be in ATC, which could take 6 months, and I had to be on active duty by the 27th of the month. So when I was offered ATC, I jumped at it. Training would be at Keesler Air Force Base at Biloxi, Mississippi.

I was supposed to graduate the end of August and would be home just in time for our first anniversary. Then we were visited by a lady named Camille. The hurricane came ashore at Gulfport, just a few miles west of Biloxi on August 17, 1969. This was a category 5 hurricane, the second of only three Cat 5’s to make landfall in the United States in the 20th Century. Camille was the only Atlantic hurricane with official winds reported to reach 190 mph until Allen in 1980.
As you can imagine, the damage was devastating. Base housing was heavily damaged, off base housing was even worse, especially those in the path of the storm surge. The first priority of the base officials was the safety and housing of military members and their families. A few days after the hurricane the military began to organize work parties to help with the clean-up of the local community. We were assigned to assist in the Gulfport area. The clean-up took nearly three weeks, and was another week after that before training resumed. Accordingly, our graduation date was moved to the end of September. August 31st came and went. We were able to talk on the phone for a few minutes.

Following graduation I was headed to Vietnam. But before I was to head off to war, I had six weeks of GCA training at Fort Rucker. We graduated on Wednesday and were scheduled to leave KAFB Sunday. Our report date at Rucker was the following Wednesday. I asked to speak to the Commander and explained that I would like to fly to California and pick-up my wife and then drive directly to Rucker. He told me to get an airline ticket and a ride to the airport, and I could go. So I arranged for a ride, picked up a ticket from the post travel agency, and I flew to San Jose and picked up Jannie.

We drove to Fort Rucker and arrived Tuesday evening. We found a place to live and I reported for duty. I in-processed and spent the next three days in POR (Process for Overseas Replacement) training. Then I was assigned to a GCA shift and we had to complete 50 GCA runs before we could move on to our assignment in Vietnam. POR training involved training us in the use of our weapon and then we ended with a “patrol” through the “jungle” of Fort Rucker. We tromped thru the under brush and then into bodies of water up to our chest. Had to keep our weapons out of the water. We were issued several magazines of blank ammo rounds (each held 30 rounds), and when we were ambushed we had to defend ourselves with our ammo. I remember one of the Cadre Sergeants and I had become pretty good friends for the few days we were together and he told me that instead of doing a lot of shooting, dump the rounds because blanks really dirtied up the rifle, and we had to clean them. I remembered cleaning rifles after expending lots of blank rounds in basic training, and the carbon from the round did leave the rifle very dirty. So as we tromped thru the swamps of Fort Rucker, I was pushing rounds out of my magazines and letting them fall into the water. When we were ambushed, I “dry fired” a lot. I knew I was going to get caught and have to do it all over again, after I received an Article 15, but I didn’t. At the end of training we had to clean our weapons. Mine was easy and my friend was inspecting the rifles, and he passed me right off. Jannie was waiting for me in the car and I left, POR completed.

The next few weeks involved radar training at sites that I would, in future years, work at and be in charge of. I was assigned to a shift and we worked the final approach position for the next 4 or 5 weeks and eventually I logged 50 approaches. At the end of the training I took 30 days leave prior to departing for Vietnam.

During our time together Jannie and I became very close and really got to know each other again. We had rented a small trailer, one that could have easily been towed by a pick-up truck. Our first night Involved lots of fleas! Our bed was infested with fleas! The next morning we complained to the landlord and he brought us a new bed, at least a different bed, and it had no fleas. That was not the end of our infestations, although now it was a different critter, or critters. Cockroaches! We didn’t have cockroaches in California, but I had become acquainted with them at Keesler. We used to say that Cockroaches were protected by law in Alabama because they were the State Bird! Sort of like mosquitoes in Alaska. We had roaches everywhere. We would carefully lift the toilet seat to make sure we didn’t have roaches on our fannies! They were in the kitchen, mostly. All we could do was kill them when we could. I felt bad leaving Jannie in that trailer every day when I went into training.

That was a time we were also very poor. Jannie has quit her job in San Jose to come to Alabama with me. She had $700 in her retirement fund and she cashed it out and we were going to live on that for the six weeks we were in Alabama. That was plenty of money in 1968 dollars. But it hadn’t arrived yet. We had just enough money to get into the trailer, but none for food. I told my sergeant and he sent us to The Red Cross, where we received a $50 grant. It held us over until we got the other money. One weekend I had KP (Kitchen Police). This was a payday weekend and not a lot of soldiers were eating in the dining facility. At the end of the day we had pans of fried chicken and uncooked hamburger patties that I was supposed to throw in the “edible garbage” bins. I told the mess sergeant that my wife and I had very little money and if it were possible, we could sure use the food more than the garbage could. He told me to wrap it all up and to take to home, but if I got caught I was on my own because it was against regulations to do that. So at the end of my shift I put the food in my car and went home. What a blessing that food was!

As I said, we got to know each other well over those few weeks. We had no money to spare, so we spent our time doing things together. One night we wanted to go to the Post Theater and see Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid; admission was 50 cents each and we didn’t have a dollar between us to go to the movies. We did purchase a television from Sears on credit, but ended up returning it a couple of weeks later because we only got one channel; cable did not run to our area. So we played a lot of games and spent a lot of time just talking. I honestly think that experience strengthened our love and friendship. After nearly 40 years of marriage, Jannie is still my best friend and I would rather do something with her than with anyone.

But we still had not celebrated an anniversary together. Our six weeks came to an end and we left Alabama for California and Idaho on leave. After arriving in San Jose we spent a few days there, and then drove up to Boise. We spent a week or so there, then drove back to San Jose. Don’t remember much of what we did, but soon it was time. During our time together in Alabama, Jannie became pregnant with our first baby, and I think she was beginning to feel the early effects of pregnancy. We celebrated Christmas early on Monroe Street, and then Jannie took me to the Airport in San Francisco where I boarded a flight to Seattle and my deployment to Vietnam. I arrived in-country early in December of 1969.

Before our 2nd Anniversary, July 18th arrived and so did our first baby, Heidi. I received a telegram from the Red Cross telling me of the arrival of my daughter. The telegram told me wife and daughter doing fine, but didn’t mention her name. My sergeant asked me if I knew the baby’s name, and I said I did. What I didn’t learn until much later was how close Jannie came to dying. Her doctor was out of the country when she delivered and the doctor who was on duty butchered her pretty badly. Later when he was on his rounds he walked into her room and when he looked at her he immediately ordered two units of blood. She was so pale that the lines in her hands were not visible.

August 31st found me with my unit in Chu Lai and not with my honey. So now we had been married for two years and had yet to spend an anniversary together. In fact, the six months between the time we got married and my induction into the Army, was the longest period of time we had been together since we had been married. When Heidi was six weeks old, Jannie brought her to Hawaii and our R & R. I cannot remember the date, but it was close to our Anniversary, but we missed the date. R & R was a week, then back to Vietnam. I departed first, and then Jannie and Heidi flew back to California.

My tour in Vietnam eventually ended and I returned home. We spent our 30 day leave visiting family and then we headed to Fort Rucker and our next assignment. I was there only a few weeks and we decided to reenlist and take the bonus and an assignment in Hawaii. We had fallen in love with Hawaii when we were an R & R and jumped at the chance to go back. So in April 1971 we left for our first assignment where we could actually be a family. Our first anniversary together was our third and on August 31, 1971 we celebrated in Hawaii. Not much, though, because Jannie had just delivered our oldest son, Brett, just a few weeks earlier, on August 2nd.

Since that third anniversary, we have been spent every anniversary together but one. In 1976 I was deployed to Korea and we were apart for that one. In 2006 I was TDY in Utah and it looked as if we might be apart one more time, but then Jannie was able to come to Utah in late August and we spent our 38th Anniversary in Park City, Utah. We cannot tell what the future will bring, but I don’t plan on spending a third anniversary apart from my bride.