Closing In on my Second Happiest Day?

 I haven't written for a while what with COVID and all. This will hopefully capture what has been happening. 

The old saying among fishermen is "A fisherman's happiest days are the day he buys a boat...". I experienced that 19 years ago this week. You can read my blog post "Rick Buys a Boat" to see what I mean. 

Last year I finally decided that my truck deserved to stay in the garage space occupied by my boat for the last 18 years. I sought out boat storage. I was to find that storage for a boat the length of mine was not readily available in Bloomington. I did find a unit somewhat near home, but it was a very tight fit. If I put my boat in at an angle I could just squeeze it in, and then only if the motors where as far down as they can go. I thought this location was  good because I could back in even though the door width was almost exactly the trailer width. It was also on a slope. This proved fatal.

While removing the boat the first time, my truck  was on the slope above  the storage unit. This put the motor scraping on the floor. When I tried to raise the 25 Hp motor the power tilt barely moved and it squealed loudly.

 Don and I went fishing and then I stopped at the repair shop.  I took the boat into Erik, my boat mechanic, and he said I had blown the seals on the power tilt and it would need to be sent to Florida for a rebuild. He estimated the cost to be over $700 and said it would be a long time because the company was  very busy. With COVID, people were buying boats and spending lots of money for repairs. He took off the power tilt and said  I could use the motor, but not in reverse. The power tilt held the motor down and kept it in the water when in reverse. I didn't know this was to be a problem with trailering the boat as well.

Since there were no other storage units available at the first site, I started looking for another farther from home. I found one that was 5 feet longer, but it was not a straight shot to back into. When taking the boat to the unit,  the first time the 25 HP motor bounced off the motor support and hit the ground. It also bent the support. I was able to get it back on the support, but it was  badly bent. Fortunately the prop didn't hit the ground. The motor fell off two more times while heading to the storage unit.  Connie went with me and helped me put it in. When I went fishing with Don, I struggled to return it into the unit. After much maneuvering and some help from Don I was able to get the boat in the unit. This unit was also on a slope, but down hill. 

When I went to take the boat out I asked Connie to help since I couldn't see both sides of the unit in my mirrors. She was reluctant, but I assured her it would only take a few minutes to get the boat out. It was too tight to pull the boat out with the truck, so we rolled it out by hand. Unfortunately the downhill slope pulled the boat to the right wedging it against the side of the storage unit. We couldn't move it.

After more than 30 minutes trying to push it back by hand and with the truck I lowered the trailer wheel and was finally able to get it loose enough to get the boat out. Connie was not happy. I decided to take the boat home for storage. I tried different ways of securing the motor support and none of them worked. It drug on the ground and was badly bent again, but again the prop did not hit. I bought a full length mirror to prop up so I could see both sides of the unit from the truck. It didn't work.

The next trip out, I found the 25 HP wouldn't turn. Scott was with me and noticed the steering cable was kinked. We straightened it out and got some movement. It turned out to be a temporary fix. Back to Erik, who replaced the steering cables. $200 more and the power tilt still wasn't back.

In late July I was riding my bike past the old Eureka Williams plant  and saw an ad for boat storage. I  stopped in. Storage rent  was for 6 months rather than the standard monthly rent. Rent was cheaper than the other units and the storage space was large. It was shared with several large RV's and another large boat, but it was easy in and out. The salesman, a former student of mine, said I could use one of two bays off to the side. There was water on the floor, but he said the roof was being repaired. I signed a contract even though I would be storing the boat at home before the 6 months were up.

The first rain storm proved the roof wasn't fixed. Fortunately I had kept the boat cover on. I switched to another bay when I returned the boat. When the season was over I took the boat to be winterized at Erik's.  The power stilt was still not back from Florida. I took the boat home for the winter.

By the end of the season I had spent almost $1000  on storage units, another $500 on repairs, and was still on the hook for the power tilt.

Then came  2022. I returned to the storage place in April  and rented for the 6 month period. Writing a check for nearly $900 started making me reconsider the worth of boat storage, but I was already committed. By the end of the month, the power tilt was finally back. It was over $700. The weather in April was so cold, rainy, and windy, I never took the boat out of storage. 

The temperature quickly increased to over 90 degrees for several weeks. From winter to summer in a few weeks. There wasn't time to fish. When I did get a decent morning I would ride my bike instead of fishing. I went fishing only 2 times between April and July. I was also becoming aware that I wasn't confident in going fishing alone in the boat. Too many close calls made me only confident if one of my friends was available.

Then last week happened.  We got some cool weather and Don and Paul were available. I picked up he boat and saw the roof of the bay where I had the boat was leaking. I took the boat home because I needed to charge the trolling motor battery. When backing in the garage I felt something hit. I was Connie's car. I had knocked a trim piece off and it was sitting at 90 degrees.

I charged the trolling motor battery for a few minutes while I removed the trim piece from the car. Fortunately it came off in one piece and was not broken. I knew I would screw it up if I tried to replace it. I decided to not try and charge the starting motor battery because it had been fine on the last trip.

When I picked up Paul, then Don, I told them this looked like it was going to be one of those days.

When I put the boat in the lake I did it without help, as Don and Paul were trying to figure out how to put on the life vest I loaned Don. I had tied the rope to the dock so it would keep the boat at the dock as I backed the trailer in the lake. As I pulled out the trailer, the rope caught under the rear bunk and snagged under the water. After some back and forth Don was able to get it loose.

When I walked back from the parking lot, I could see Paul was struggling with stating the motor. When I got to the dock, I could see the starter wasn't working. The starting battery was dead. All of us have bad shoulders, but Paul decided he could pull start the 9.9 HP we were going to use. Eventually he got it started and we fished for a couple of hours. We only caught fish late in the morning. I was concerned because the wind came up, and the boat is difficult to put on the trailer in the wind. What worked best is to use the larger 25 HP motor,  but that is almost impossible to pull start. Then Don caught his line in the 9.9 motor. We couldn't use the 9.9 either.

We didn't have enough battery to use the trolling motor all the way back. So we used the wind to drift back towards the dock. We used the trolling motor to make adjustments, but the battery was getting weak . Finally we asked a guy who was just going out for a tow back to the ramp. It was difficult maneuvering to do this in the wind and we never did get connected for a tow. We continued to drift in and got close enough to  dock.

I had a spare set of battery cables in my boat storage. When I bought the boat, the owner had used the cables to connect both batteries when the trolling motor battery was dying. I hoped I could use the little remaining trolling battery charge to start the 25  HP.  After several tries and many pumps on the fuel line, the motor turned over. A couple more tries and it started!

We loaded the boat and headed to lunch. When I got home I pulled both batteries out of the boat and hoped I could get them charged. I also removed Don's line from the 9.9 propeller. I put the boat into a different , hopefully dry, place in the storage building. We have had 2 big storms this week.

The batteries are  charged up, but the hygrometer shows them to be very weak. They are $100 each to replace. It's too hot to fish until September. I found out I can rent a boat at the lake for $75 a day. I am really thinking I am at the point of pursuing my second happiest day.

"A fisherman's two happiest days are the day he buys a boat and the day he sells it!"

A 50 year old story

 This is how I remember it.  I was teaching in Albany in my second year. I had recently received my  "Greetings" letter that said I was drafted into service. The letter arrived in February, but contained a note that my induction was delayed until after the current school year was over.

The letter followed a year long effort by myself, my superintendent, assistant superintendent, principal, parents, banker, a pastor from a church I didn't attend, and others to try and keep me teaching in Albany. All that had failed. The prior summer the  chair of the draft board told the superintendent, "He's had his deferment"

In spite of this we were still trying to get pregnant. We were uncertain about the future, but we had wanted a baby since we were first married. In April, Connie had a doctor's appointment. I clearly remember her coming into our house with a big smile on her face. We were going to  have a baby.

Then I began to worry about medical bills. We had insurance as part of my teaching job, but it would end in August. The baby wasn't due until January. I was going to have to pay the full  insurance premium. Back then, if you didn't have insurance when you got pregnant, new medical insurance considered pregnancy a "pre-existing condition" and wouldn't cover any of the expense. I was too stupid to ask if the military covered  the pregnancy.

Connie wasn't showing when I left for the army in June. We decided she should go live with her parents while I was gone. Although this wasn't what she wanted it helped me to know she would not be alone. I took basic in Fort Lewis Washington. Her daily letters and my Sunday phone calls let me know she was handling the pregnancy well. Still I missed all the early part of pregnancy.

Our biggest worry was Vietnam. It was still waging, but we all knew it was a lost cause. I didn't want to go. I thought it was pointless to give your life for something so worthless. I even considered Canada, and we talked about it on more than one occasion. Connie was willing to go as well. I decided to wait. The infantry, who did the fighting,  trained across the parade field, and Fort Lewis was a major departure center for Vietnam.

In the final weeks of basic training was rifle qualification. I had struggled to shoot accurately because of my inability to sight with my right eye. I was unable to close my left eye to sight the rifle. My only solution was an eye patch or to tilt my helmet over my left eye.

With rifle qualification came a week-end pass. Connie planned to fly out to spend the week-end with me. Unfortunately, I failed by one target. No pass. Connie had to cancel her flight.

A clerk came to speak with those of us that had been drafted. The army would decide what our military job would be. Supposedly this was based on the tests we took at the beginning of basic, but it was mainly based on need. The army needed infantry soldiers in Vietnam. The clerk's role was to give us some options. One was to enlist for an additional year to get a job that wasn't the infantry. I considered enlisting to becoming a missile specialist. The missiles were in Europe, but it was an additional year. The clerk said we might be assigned to truck driver training. I decided to wait and see what happened.

Two weeks later, rifle qualification was scheduled for those that failed earlier. It was a Saturday morning and I qualified. I would receive a pass for the remainder of the week-end. I decided to fly standby and try to get to Chicago. I called Connie to meet me there.

I arrived in O'Hare in the late afternoon. I had called her Dad with my flight number, but Connie was already on the way. Her Dad had her paged at the airport to let her know. I walked off the jetway towards the terminal, not knowing where we would meet. As I walked up the terminal, I walked right past Connie and didn't even recognize her.

In my defense, she had cut her hair, was wearing glasses, a new dress, and was showing. I had never seen her with glasses or short hair, or pregnant. I was dressed like every other soldier on the flight, had lost about 35 pounds, and had short hair. Still, she recognized me first. We hugged cried and headed for a motel. I had to leave early in the morning to get back before my pass expired.

On the flight back, I sat next to an officer who asked me where I was headed. When I told him I was on a weekend pass, he told me that passes were for a 45  mile radius from the base. Oops, the 1700 miles I traveled was against regulations. Fortunately he didn't turn me in.

I finished basic and was assigned to Military Police training along with a number of draftees who had also been teachers. We were flown all the way across the country late at night and arrived in Georgia in the morning where the workday was beginning. 

Vietnam was still looming. We were all trying to figure if we had to go. MP's were in Vietnam trying to manage the prisons and the draw down. Each week a new cycle of trainees graduated and we listened carefully where they were being assigned. The week we arrived, the entire class went to Vietnam. The following 7 weeks, no classes were sent to Vietnam. Most were optimistic .  I thought the cycle would hit us and we were going to Vietnam. Connie was ready to head to Canada. We decided to wait and see.

After graduation, the entire 250 man company waited for assignments. If your name was called you were to get a urine test. It meant you were going overseas. Names were called out alphabetically to get the test. The First Sergeant called out the names, "Kramer, Krapkowitz, Lindberg, Murphy...." I was skipped.! There I was standing with only 15 other soldiers. Everyone else was going to Korea or Vietnam. Unfortunately most were Vietnam.

I called Connie as soon as I could get to a phone booth. I was to stay in Fort Gordon,  Georgia and she could be with me. Later I flew home for a 2 week leave. 

In September, we packed our Fiat station wagon with almost everything we owned and headed to Fort Gordon. Now very pregnant Connie had to endure the long drive in a very small car. As we were driving, the radio news said there was a riot at the stockade in Fort Gordon, Georgia and that part of the prison had burned. I didn't know that would effect us later that fall. 

 We were not sure of the best route and ended up driving down the mountains in the dark. It was very frightening. We wound down the eastern continental divide with no place to stay in sight. Finally after midnight we entered South Carolina and found a small motel, the Magnolia Inn. The clerk was from the Midwest and took pity on the exhausted couple. The room had a coin operated radio and vibrating bed. The towels were full of hair, but it was a place to sleep.

We arrived at our rented trailer the next day. The following morning I reported to my company and Connie was left alone to settle in to our new home. The baby was due in about 3 months.

After 6 weeks as a patrol MP, I was told to report to the stockade. The inquiry into the riot had determined that too few MP's were assigned to the stockade. As I sat with a group of other low ranking MPs, we were asked by the sergeant if any of us could type. At first I didn't volunteer. Then he repeated that he needed two people who could type. I raised my hand.

I was assigned to the front office of the stockade. There I would stay for the duration of my service, Vietnam still loomed everyday, but I had options.

On a Saturday in January I had to report to the office. We had an upcoming inspection, so the entire staff was to report to make sure we were ready. Before I left, Connie's water broke. We rushed to the hospital and she was admitted. The doctor said she wouldn't deliver for several hours and that I should go home. I decided to go into the stockade office as it was closer to the hospital.

I got the call in the early afternoon. Connie was going in to the delivery room. I arrived but couldn't see her. At 3:15, military time 15:15 on January 15 our baby was born. We had expected a girl, and had a girl's name all picked out. Our baby boy was a surprise. We had discussed Spencer, but decided on Scott.

He was all red from a rash. The doctor was using him as a case study. The military treated the new mothers like soldiers. They were in a ward with little privacy. "Mothers get up and go get your babies" was the call in the morning. We also found out the military would pay for every thing except Connie's meals, about $5.00 a day. Our bill for his entire delivery and care was less than $20.00.

50 years have passed. I assume some of my memories are not accurate as that happens more and more. The feelings are accurate. I still can feel the fear we had, the joy and relief and the love.

Thank you Connie for putting up with all of this and more and making our lives better. Thank you , Scott for being. Happy 50th!

They called us Veterans

 

 

I have never been to a Veteran’s Administration facility. Although all who have served are technically eligible, I never pursued visiting. First, it was inconvenient as the closest clinic was in Peoria and the closest hospital was in Danville IL. I had hated being drafted into the army and wanted nothing to do with the military.

 I did, however, signup for VA health benefits. I didn’t need them, but there was a concern about the VA cutbacks back in the 1990’s. VA cutbacks were targeting underutilized facilities like the hospital in Danville. Most of the maintenance staff were vets, and they knew I was the only administrator who had served. They asked me if I would sign up to help show the VA there was need in the area. I agreed.

 I arrived at the VFW in Bloomington with my DD214. This is the form that all military personnel are given upon discharge. You are told to guard it carefully as it is the only proof of service. I keep mine in a safe deposit box.

 After having my photo taken, I was given a red, white and blue picture id. I stuck it in a drawer figuring to never use it again. After all I didn’t need a VA loan, I had already exhausted all of my GI bill education benefits, and I had health insurance.

 I did take it to Lowes after I found out they give veterans a 10% discount. This is an unadvertised benefit that applies to every purchase all year round. After multiple uses, some of which were allowed, some not, I finally got a Lowes card that grants the discount at checkout.

 When applying for my last driver’s license renewal, the State of Illinois offered to add a veteran’s registration on the license, but I had to visit with a VA counselor. I had to take my DD214 to the meeting. He went through my benefits and offered to have a copy of my service records sent to me. I figured that was the end of my contact with the VA.

 Anyone who watches the real news, knows the Veteran's Administration has had some really bad press. Investigations show long waiting lists for veterans to get medical attention. Photos of deteriorating facilities, poor working conditions, and neglect for disabled patients have been all over the news. Several VA administrators have been fired, and there is constant turmoil. The politicians use it as scape goat for political gain, but never seem to fund the program as well as they fund the latest high tech weapon system. The VA after all is for the last few wars. Old sick injured men and women are just not creating jobs in the politician’s districts.

 It used to be that virtually every male became a veteran. This was because the military needed many men and a few women to carry out the mission to destroy ambitious dictators and keep others at bay. Large numbers were needed to fight aggression by countries supported by communist governments. Large numbers were needed to honor our commitments to countries that were led by people who asked for our help, while using us to help them stay in power. Large numbers were needed to hold on to territory. Large numbers of young military age into large numbers of old veterans.

 But this was the old military. The new military needed fewer people who are more highly trained. The new military uses high technology to destroy, but not occupy. You see, the military draft ended almost 50 years ago. This was the end of the citizen soldier.

 My 50^th high school reunion was “hosted” by those at their 25^th reunion. One of my classmates asked all who had served in the military to stand. Almost every male in my class stood, while no one from the 25^th reunion stood.

 So most veterans are over 70. Although in that age group, I didn’t need the VA health benefits. That is until Covid19.

 Covid 19 is deadly to those with the weakest immune systems. This group includes those over 65, the disabled, those with underlying health conditions. This is the precisely the situation for most veterans.

I am in San Antonio which prides itself as a “military city”. In addition to large numbers of active duty soldiers and air force personnel, it is home to many veterans. In fact everyone I know from Silver Sneakers is a vet, even the women. The VA facilities in San Antonio are extensive and include specialized units for those with the most severe war injuries.

Vaccinations are given on a priority basis to those most at risk. After medical professionals and nursing home personnel comes the 65 plus group. The VA was to receive vaccine for this group. They scheduled distribution for a Saturday. With so many in the area, they would not receive enough for those over 65. The first weekend was just for those over 75. The following Saturday was for those 70 and older.

With so many vets in town, the vaccine distribution is huge. So huge, that the phone lines used to get an appointment crashed in a few minutes. Vets simply could not get through. So the VA did something unusual. They told vets over 70 to just show up on a Saturday, and the VA would vaccinate everyone until they ran out of vaccine. I decided to take a chance and show up.

 I arrived 2 hours before the distribution was to begin. I planned to stand outside in the cold, but the VA staff had already opened the hospital when I arrived. I was directed down several hallways which were already full of waiting men and women. Most were standing, but several were in wheelchairs, electric and not, walkers and carrying canes. All had on masks. There were a few chairs placed 6 feet apart, but we were all much closer than that. I didn’t count, but I am sure I walked past at least 1000 people.

 The Audie Murphy VA Medical Center in San Antonio is state of the art. It is bright, roomy and well maintained. There was no sign of peeling paint, filth, or understaffing I had heard so much about. It made proud to know the VA had such wonderful facilities for our military veterans.

 I was amazed at the variety of military insignia on hats and jackets standing in the hallways. Most were proudly displaying their branch and era of service. Most were Vietnam era, but there were a few from the Korean War. All were waiting patiently.

I heard not one complaint.

Mostly they joked with each other. There was plenty of laughter. I heard several times the old army saying “Hurry up and wait” followed by a chuckle of familiarity. We regularly heard this when I was in.  Hurry up and get ready, then sit or stand.

 The VA personnel were amazing. The women and men directing us were all positive and engaging with the men and women in line. They were all working on a Saturday, and I am sure they had volunteered to do it. They brought chairs for those who needed them and handed out bottles of water. They never once referred to the men and women as patients, even though we were in a hospital. They called us “Veterans”.

 Although there were a few glitches for me, the experience was amazing. I had to leave the line when I got to the front because I wasn’t registered at the facility. That added over an hour to my wait, but I cannot complain. When I was finally registered, the staff member who was directing the vets, remembered me and moved me up to get my appointment. She told everyone in line I had been waiting through two other groups to get an appointment. After 5 hours I had my first dose and an appointment for the second dose. I am sure anyone who has caught this virus would have gladly waited to receive the vaccine.

 I cannot thank the VA staff enough. They made this long wait as pleasant as possible. I want to thank all the veterans who stood with me. It is you who have kept this country free. To the VA staff thanks for  who honoring our service.

 

---

 [RL1]

Mike Laleman US Army Hero

"I wanna be an airborne Ranger

I wanna live a life of danger.."

 I can still hear those words we sang as the drill sergeant called marching cadence in basic training.  Many of the drill sergeants wore the Ranger tab on their shoulder, but I didn't know much about the Rangers.  I knew they were held in high regard by people in the US Army. The phrase I heard often was "Rangers are tough SOB's". One of my uncles told me that the Rangers had stormed the cliffs overlooking Omaha beach to knock out the German machine guns and artillery.

Mike Laleman  US Army Ranger  This photo was several years ago, and he has been promoted since then. The tan beret and shoulder tab identify a US Army Ranger.

Mike Laleman (who we all call Michael) has always been in the outdoors. When younger he would often go fishing and hunting. A conversation with young Michael would include details on fishing lures, colors, and types of fish they caught. He bought every kind of fishing lure and hunting equipment. I still have some 50# test line (who catches fish that big?) he gave me on one of my birthdays.

 In high school he was on the school shooting team. He was an excellent shot and they put him in charge of transporting the guns. 

                                                Michael's first deer

He fished with me a number of times in my boat. I don't recall either of us catching any fish, thus no pictures. Bad fishing has almost always been my fault.

                                           Mike and his niece Taylor

Michael is an American hero. He fits my definition perfectly. A hero is the person who steps forward to face a difficult challenge. It is not that he is without fear. That is part of what the feels he has to do. The difference is that the takes on the challenge in spite of the fear.

After graduation from high school Michael enlisted in the US Army. This was after 9-11-2001. Michael enlisted in an infantry unit and eventually passed the difficult Ranger School. Less than 50% of those who began the school passed it. This was the school all of the Special Forces complete. Part of that training was 2-3 week"Survival School". He was dumped in a swamp at night without food and told to survive.

Rangers were also airborne. He regularly jumped out of airplanes. Upon completion he was assigned to a Ranger regiment. This assignment required additional difficult qualification in order to actively serve as a Ranger. I think this was when he became known as  "Mike".

  

The strenuous training did not end on assignment. Being qualified and assigned meant he had a standard of physical fitness to maintain. In also included training in additional skills. Rangers serve in all of the most difficult situations. Their rigorous training puts them in the lead, the "point of the spear".  

The motto "Rangers lead the way" appropriately describes the designation Ranger. They learn how to operate in jungles, deserts, and urban areas in tight scary places. They travel by Humvee, helicopter, and even modified Toyota pickups. 

They may use donkeys and horses in mountainous conditions. Sometimes they parachute in. They use land, water, and air to conduct their operations.

Mike is an expert marksman and has trained as a sniper. For work in urban settings he trained as a locksmith.

The Rangers draw the most dangerous assignments, often at night. Deployment has never been in a place anyone would refer to as “safe”. Mike and his brother, Bryan, wear the Combat Infantry Badge. You must serve in combat to receive this medal.  Mike has been deployed more often than most people in the military. I lost count after 6 combat tours but know he had more.

                                                        

 He currently serves in a leadership role in the US Army. He works at SOCOM, where special operations are planned. His ability to plan, accomplish and to lead have been recognized repeatedly. When you can lead in combat, you can lead anywhere.

Mike continues to fish and hunt when he can. His fishing experiences have gotten diverse and he is landing much bigger fish. He has been part of a special hunt for service members.

Mike continues to be part of a sky dive demonstration team. He serves  along with Rangers, other Airborne troupes and Green Berets. 

He is recently married to Cheryl. He still serves in the US Army.

Mike and Cheryl

He training and his deployments have taken a toll on his body. Like any highly trained athlete, he must condition constantly. In order to be ready to go into action as a Ranger he must stay in top physical condition and endure extreme physical hardships in training. The deployments and training had subjected him to injury. Surgeries to repair damage have become part of his life.  He does not receive the income of a professional athlete. His compensation includes the respect and confidence of those who deploy with him. Like any athlete at some point he will not be able to serve in the field.

 I ask you to think about the difficulty he has endured in service for his country. I ask you to thank him because he deserves to know that we care about his sacrifice. I ask you to thank Cheryl for wishing to become part of this difficult service.  American heroes. 

American Hero

My definition of a hero is the person who steps forward to face a difficult challenge. It is not that they are without fear. That is part of what they feel they have to do. The difference is that they take on the challenge in spite of the fear. Unfortunately many who want to be leaders, are a long way from being heroes.

I have been fishing for a long time with my fellow retired principals. Our stories go way back. If you are regular reader, you know that our equipment, our health, and sometimes our lives, were in danger for mistakes we have made.

Even though Don and Paul continue to agree to fish with me, they are not the only ones who have. From the very first time I bought my boat and as far back as the 1980’s, I have fished with some guys who are true American heroes. While looking through some old photos I came upon a photo of one of my nephews, Bryan Laleman, when he was much younger, fishing at my brother Ron's lake.

Bryan  and his younger brother Mike (who we all still call Michael) are  members of the US Army. 

Bryan was in the National Guard on 9-11-2001. He had served in the US Army for three years including a tour in the Middle East. While beginning college, he enlisted in a National Guard infantry unit. His college career was interrupted as he was called upon to secure property that may have been subject to further terrorist attack. 

He re-enlisted in another infantry unit and was later deployed to combat in that unit. He told me he was proud all of the members of his squad returned unharmed. A parent of one of those members told me how much his men appreciated Bryan as a leader.

 Upon his return, Bryan enlisted in a National Guard helicopter unit. He trained to become a Blackhawk helicopter pilot and Warrant Officer.

I can’t give much in the way of details about his service. I don’t really know all of the specifics. Bryan's parents feel the military might disapprove if I shared much of what I do know. Suffice it to say, he and his brother have seen plenty of service is war zones. Deployment has never been in a place anyone would refer to as “safe”. Both wear the Combat Infantry Badge, the blue Kentucky long rifle. You do not get that sitting behind a desk, as I did when I was in the US Army.

                                                      

Military families bear the daily fear of family members deployed. Both of my nephews are married, and Bryan has children. The stress has to be overwhelming, because there is not much that can be done, but worry and pray for the day they return home.

                                                  

                                                     Bryan and Pam

Bryan and Wesley

Bryan Pam Clara Wesley

                                                    Bryan at his Dad's pond

With Covid-19, rotations have changed. Fewer are being trained to take their place. Deployments are getting longer. The work they do is not conducive to social distancing so the added health risk is real.  

Some of the photos that follow are dated, but they are what I have. Some were recently shared by their parents. Bryan has received multiple promotions since these were taken. His promotions were not for just staying in the service. He had to respond to many extremely difficult challenges to move up in rank.

Each deployment includes great risk.  He serves today in Iraq. He is a leader in the truest sense of the word. 

Pray for Bryan and Mike and their families if praying is what you do. Thank them, perhaps not for “their service” as so many do. Thank them for their courage, their sacrifice, the stress in their lives, the hardship that comes from stepping forward when most chose not to serve. Give their families a kind word, spend time listening, and recognize that without families like them, we won’t have people who can be heroes for all of us.

I hope we can fish again soon. A special Happy 40th Birthday, Bryan. Stay safe and return soon.

I Miss the Apple

It’s July and the weather is hot. Big surprise! 

Lake fishing in July is pretty slow. The fish move to cooler, deeper water. You have to catch them near shore in the very early morning before the sun warms the surface.

Our solution has been to try something different in July. For many years that has been the Apple River in the northwest corner of Illinois.

The Apple flows from Wisconsin through the Driftless Area of Illinois and eventually to the Mississippi. The area, untouched by glaciers, is hilly, scenic, and exposes many limestone bluffs. It isn’t a great place to farm, but it is fun to see.

We found the Apple because Paul had read about it in a fishing magazine. That was over 20 years ago. The cool stream is home to small mouth bass. Smallies are found in other streams in Illinois, but the Apple is remote and not heavily fished.

I wrote in an earlier blog about our first trip there, which was in October. However, the Apple became our go to place for adventure in July. The hot weather wasn’t a problem when you are standing in a cool stream.

The river was low in July, so even the deep holes are not above our knees. Dressed in shorts and big hats, we could easily wade the Apple and avoid getting too hot in the sun. Equipment was minimal and we carried needed tools in our pockets or around our necks.

The trick was finding a way into the river while wearing shorts without walking through nettles and poison ivy. Robert opted to wear waders. The rest of us followed Robert and pushed down the weeds with our feet and fishing poles. Luckily we didn’t get too many scratches.

We would wade about a mile before we got out at the next bridge up the road. The wade upstream in the heat was difficult, but the stunning scenery was in the shade where we would stop and fish the deep near the bluffs. The hardest part was walking the mile back in the heat.

The fishing was relatively good for us. We got bites on Rooster tail spinners and other small lures. This worked pretty well for the first July trip.

Subsequent trips were mainly just Don and me or Paul on occasion. It was on trip with Don that I discovered the crawdad soft bait was the smallies’ favorite. Don found a deep hole just downstream from where we walked into the river. In that deep hole were hungry smallies. We wore out the few crawdad baits I had.  At the end of the day we tried to locate more, but there were none to be found.

After that trip, Don and I stocked up before we left. We had a great time catching fish, and didn’t have to wade very far to do it.

The Apple River trip takes a long drive. Even with longer days, it really takes an overnight stay in a hotel to make the trip worthwhile. The overnight also involves eating at restaurants and or bars.  

All of us are in our 70’s.  Covid 19 has put a damper on all that for this year. Maybe it will be better next July. Maybe. 

Paul Calls Them “Memories”

17 years ago next month, I bought my boat. I retired in July and made the purchase in August. I had looked for quite a while and was prepared to buy a new, but less expensive, boat. I was trying to avoid spending too much money and thought a quality boat, like my Lund, was too much money for me.

Fortunately a nearby person ran a classified ad in the newspaper ( remember them?) and I caught it early in the morning. I called and arranged a meeting, and bought it without negotiating the price. I did manage to convince him to let me have a 2 Hp motor as part of the deal. The 2 Hp could be used where the bigger 25 HP was banned (like Lake Evergreen). I later replaced it for a bigger (still legal) 9.9 Hp

The boat was three years old when I bought it, but had only been used two seasons. The seller had thought he would fish more and hadn’t. It had been used the first season by fishing guide Paul Center, who I knew. Paul is quite meticulous with his boats as they are always resold after one season.

Many consider the Lund brand to be the finest aluminum boat for the average fisherman.  They are extremely popular in Minnesota and Wisconsin and are renowned for  durability and stability in wind. Some manufacturers advertise their welded boats are the strongest. Lund says they use rivets, like aircraft manufacturers where failure would be catastrophic.

My boat is a beautiful dark green with grey trim. When I bought it, it looked brand new. I was able to find only one photo from that first year, and it wasn’t a close up. Paul and I were launching the boat at Clinton Lake.

I was able to enlarge the photo slightly around the decals to show the condition of the boat that first year. With Paul in the photo, you can see no scratches or dents around the Lund decals.

Compare that to this recent photo taken in my garage.

My boat has been on more trips than I can count. We took it to Tennessee, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Texas. We have fished virtually every major lake (except Michigan) in Illinois. I believe it would handle Lake Michigan, but haven’t made the trip.

One thing all of these trips have in common, is the marking of my boat with “memories”. We have hit docks, rocks, stumps, ramps, the  banks, and other boats. Every trip we hit tree branches and I have to remove branches and sticks from the deck. We follow the old adage "If you aren't hitting something or snagged, you aren't fishing in the right place" The Lund has handled them all, but she is showing the results.

This latest "smile" is from a hard hit on the dock on a windy day. It is pretty deep, but it didn't penetrate the hull.

Paul calls them memories. There are so many, I can’t count them. Unfortunately we are getting too old to remember them. I only included a few of the many. Repainting a 20 year old boat is not an option. She is looking kind of sad, but she is still strong.