I'M OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD

I followed the white lines on the road to new places and had adventures along the way. 03/12/2016

I’M OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD

In April 1990, my daughter, Ellen, called to say her employer, Hungerford and Bass, selected her to fill a two-year overseas assignment working for their subsidiary based in England. She felt thrilled but apprehensive about this opportunity, while we were delighted to know she had accepted the offer.

Ellen needed her car until the day of her departure to London. We flew to San Jose, saw her off, and drove home to Arizona in a round about fashion, the proud owners of her ’84 Nova.

We drove to Morgan Hill and visited with our old friend, Eb Brazelton, whose wife Jobie had passed away earlier. Despite his loss, Eb proved to be a great host and we enjoyed spinning yarns with him

We waved our farewell and headed toward Los Angeles where we spent some time with our daughter Laura and her family. Later, we drove to San Diego and paid our son, Barry, a visit. In one trip we had managed to spend time with Eb and all three of our out-of-state children.

We arrived home just in time to greet Allyson Michele Thrall, our daughter Carol’s first child. Carol soon returned to work as a Certified Nurse Practitioner at Phoenix Children’s Hospital, giving us an opportunity to baby-sit Ally, a dreamboat infant, beautiful and sweet tempered. As time passed, Ally took a liking to tuna fish. Carol would come rushing home from work, kiss and cuddle her baby, then frown at me and ask, “Dad, did you give Ally tuna fish for lunch again?”   .

Our granddaughter Shannon graduated from grade school later in May. She wore a beautiful white dress, had her hair done professionally, and looked quite grown up, anxious to start high school.

In June, while in Hoboken to attend my 40^th Anniversary Class Reunion of Stevens Institute of Technology, I strolled down the block to look at my old grade school, Saints Peter and Paul now housed in a brand new building, closed for the summer. A parish priest told me gave me the name of the principal, a lay person,  to whom I later wrote a letter asking if she could locate a copy of my class picture from the archives. She responded months later, saying a copy could not be found. However, she enclosed something even more sentimental: A copy of my transcript covering the five years I attended the school. In addition, she sent me a handwritten list of the names and addresses of most of my eighth grade classmates and this important comment: Three of the five nuns who taught me in grades four through eight were still alive. This news stunned me. How young they must have been when they taught me. The habits they wore masked their age.

While in NYC, Angie and I attended the wedding of her nephew, Peter Sammarco to Mary Anne Steigleider. Peter wore his National Guard uniform rather than a tuxedo. Ducking under a canopy of crossed swords when they emerged from the church, their wedding had the flair of a West Point marriage ceremony. The military motif continued, as they held their reception at Ft. Hamilton, located just below the Verazzano Bridge. Peter had to settle for a career in the National Guard after resigning from the Regular Army when promotion seemed unlikely.

Upon my return home, Jerry Kerwin contacted me. He bought and sold surplus construction material on a global basis, and hit upon the idea of marketing the Combustion Engineering steam generating unit stored at the Coronado Generating Station to a prospect he had located in China. With my SRP contacts, Jerry thought his proposal might be given more consideration. It didn’t. Had we managed to pull off such an unlikely stunt, I might have earned a large commission.

Not long after our sales effort failed, Jerry’s wife died. Depressed, he moved to Kansas City to stay with his daughter. Our relationship ended when he stopped writing me letters.

I had seen a few retirees hanging around SRP work sites, unable to completely break the tie with the company and their friends. Representing Jerry’s company had given me a legitimate reason to drop in and talk to some of my former co-workers. It made my transition from the work place a little easier than might have been the case.

SRP provided me with a wonderful benefits package when they severed me from the payroll. A year of so later, while visiting the company to discuss the status of the CGS Unit 3 equipment, my former co-workers feared they would be downsized soon, and would not get a severance package equivalent to mine. They were right about that. Never again did SRP provide its employees with a comparable offer. I sailed off to retirement heaven on the Good Ship, Lollipop 

  ▀

. 

..