Just a Surfer Dude and Road Rat

Sean Penn
The 81st Academy Awards show was presented last night. It was one of the better ones I have viewed over the years. Acceptance speeches were limited in length and we weren’t held captive to view the awards for best assistant to the catering chef. Homage was paid to past winners and performers and previous winners were featured as presenters. The host was not a comedian but an actor who excelled in his command of the affair. And best of all, some deserving actors were the winners.

Chosen as the best performance by a leading actor was Sean Penn. Here is a dedicated, hard working actor who is an enigma to most everyone, friend and fan. His career has been a mixture of controversy and dispute. He grabbed early attention by his assault on the paparazzi who came too close for his comfort. This provided an example of his volatile nature. He has stated that he doesn’t like directors and most actors/actresses. In one instance he served jail time for attacking a film extra. He also said that the only legendary actor who didn’t disappoint him was Clint Eastwood.

But, contrarily, Sean is a humanitarian. I recall seeing him wading waist deep in the flood waters of New Orleans as he was among the earliest in trying to assist those in peril. Some time after the 9/11 tragedy he paid $56,000 to place an add in the Washington Post, asking President George Bush to slow his push for war in Iraq. He has visited Venezuela and African states on humanitarian missions.

Sean is the son of Leo Penn, actor and director, of Lithuanian and Russian descent, and actress Eileen Ryan, who appeared in one film as his grandmother. Leo was blacklisted during the McCarthy era investigations of communism in the movie industry for refusing to answer questions about his political beliefs. He had served as a bombardier in the Air Force during WWII. His own father was of Sephardic Jewish heritage with the surname Piñon. Leo and Eileen had two other sons: actor Chris Penn and musician Michael Penn. As a director Leo had credits in TV series shows such as Magnum P.I, Matlock, Kojak and episodes in many other popular series. He also appeared as an actor in these shows.

Sean was first married to musical star Madonna. He later described the marriage as “loud.” They were divorced in 1989. He was also briefly engaged to the sister of his good friend Bruce Springsteen, Pamela Springsteen. Both were in the movie “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.” Later in his life he had a daughter and a son with actress Robin Wright whom he later married. They moved their family to Marin county to raise their children outside the Hollywood environment.
Sean Penn puts everything into the characters he portrays on film. His choices are usually scripts that have a message of hope. He may appear to be a rebellious outcast but, I am - - -

Just sayin’

Let it Snow!

It almost snowed in Sacramento last week! I know!! It never (well, hardly ever) snows in Sacramento. I remember a real, stay-on-the-ground snowfall in 1940. It was fun to walk around in and toss snowballs. But, actually, I don’t have great memories of fun in the snow. Here’s what I do remember.

As a grade school lad I lived in the northern Coast Range mountains of California in a plain pine board cabin that had survived the ‘49er days. For you youngsters that is 1849 goldminer days. My step-dad was a deep well driller and he was employed to dig a deep test shaft to find possible gold deposit ore. We had no place to live so when we passed this abandoned two room cabin nestled against a cliff by the roadside we stopped and moved in. It was mid-winter and we had to stuff the cracks between the side boards with newspaper to keep the cold out. My misery in the snow came when I had to walk about 2 miles along the treacherous one lane dirt road to and from a one-room school with about 15 students. I was the 3rd grade. The mining company that hired my step-dad added to my adventure by blasting into the mountain alongside the road from time to time. They would blow a loud steam whistle 5 mins. before blasting so anyone near could find shelter from falling debris. Crouching in the freezing snow to keep from being bombarded by rock is not a fun thing. I survived the winter with only one bout of pneumonia. But good things happened as well. You could view the beautiful Mount Shasta wearing its white mantel in the distance and directly to the east the peak of Mount Lassen, an active volcano, with a wisp of vapor crowning its top. And, my mother taught me how to make a poor man’s ice cream by adding milk, sugar and vanilla to a bowl full of snow and setting it outside for a few minutes.

I also dwelled in the Sierra Nevada mountains at the base of Mt. Lassen, a peak I climbed with my wife and sons and where we found that after a venture into the crater, lined at its crest with snow, it was quite warm from the lava buried below. Nearby close to the base of the peak there are bubbling hot springs. The snow gets deep in the surrounding area and the village of Mineral had few inhabitants in winter when the drifts can imprison one in his home. Frostbite is a common hazard. Keeping warm was a daily task. Only one hill provided a skiing slope that was used in the springtime by visiting college students. This was not my favorite winter resort. I did watch the skiers from the warmth of the Mineral Lodge while testing a hot toddy.
My relationship with snow was really tested during World War II when I spent a good deal of time living in foxholes buried in blankets of this stuff. I suffered severe frostbite to my toes and endured other unpleasant problems; like having to kick loose the slide action on my rifle that froze during the nights; being buried by overnight snowfall in outpost foxholes so that the relief guards couldn’t find me. Using an open slit trench as a latrine where that area was frozen slick with ice. Hazardous.

So, I do not find snow the appealing weather condition that provides enjoyment. I know that it is welcomed by many and encourages lots of holiday settings and sports that most probably enjoy, so it may snow in Sacramento but - - - - - I am
Just sayin’

Valentine Story # 2

I met Karilyn in roundabout way. A family friend, Vivian Smothers, who had lived in Rio Linda, Calif. close to my home before moving away to Heyburn, Idaho gave me a call. She had married and after some problems moved back to California with her two sons to find work. She called soon after her return to let me know her whereabouts and to catch up on family news. I had been widowed for a few years and was delighted to hear from a friend. We chatted and I asked her to join me for lunch. She said that it might be difficult as she had a “terrible two” year old son. I laughed and said that children were never terrible and he would be welcome. She added that she also had a young woman with her who was going to care for her sons (she had two) while she worked. I told her to bring her along as well.

I chose a nearby Mexican restaurant called “The White Horse” that I knew served a variety of tasty ethnic meals that could offer something for everyone. And, when I arrived ahead of time I was astonished to find that this favorite dining spot had changed! It was now a Japanese restaurant. Seems I had been out of touch for awhile.
Vivian and child soon arrived accompanied by her child care assistant. I watched as they approached and we were introduced. Karilyn was a tall, blonde young lady with a very straight posture. She was wearing a light colored blouse and a blue paisley skirt as well as a brilliant wide smile that immediately captured your attention. In the ensuing conversation she seemed at ease and displayed intelligence and a quick wit. I was eager to catch up with all that happened to Vivian since her departure, so we lingered over lunch for awhile. At some point I mentioned how I had become almost a hermit, seldom venturing out except for family affairs and missed the frequent dine-out forays I had made in the city and surrounding areas. I said that now that Vivian was back in town I would love to have her join me in checking out the various eateries from time to time; and, then I ventured to Karilyn: “You, as well, I would like to double my opportunities to get out to dinner more frequently.” She smiled and said “Okay.” The strange coincidence of this first meeting is that it was St. Valentine’s Day.

After a few days I did invite Vivian to join me for dinner and a visit to a local club where my son was performing as lead guitarist with a rock-n-roll band. It was nice to get out for a change. A week or so later during an afternoon I got a call from Karilyn. She was right to the point. She said I had offered to take Vivian and her out to dinner but had not yet received her invitation. I had made the offer as the polite and proper thing to do but was delighted that she had accepted. Thus I arranged to pick her up at Vivian’s parent’s home in Rio Linda one evening and I took her to an unusual dining spot. The Red Baron at the Sacramento Executive Airport where as we dined we could watch the planes take off and land. This dinner lasted for four hours! We couldn’t stop talking. We had so much to share. She told me of her childhood, how she had spent her high school years in a body cast because of a life-threatening spinal condition that needed correction (thus the erect posture); how she had worked in the large potato shipping plants in Idaho; attended Brigham Young Univ. briefly; worked as an Au Pair with a prominent family in Connecticut (see note below); served as an office assistant in a Public Relations firm that handled celebrities in Salt Lake City, was employed in the office of an insurance company and was now recently employed as all-around office clerk for a refrigeration firm in our city. Note: An au pair lives with a host family for a short period of time, between 1 month and 2 years, and is primarily responsible for looking after the children and doing light housework. Au pair duties may include driving children to and from school or helping with homework. Au Pairs can help a family by providing flexible, affordable and live-in child care for around a thousand dollars a month. The host family of an au pair will provide room and board.

Karilyn was great company and I continued to badger her to dine out and I called on her at her work place often. My old Army buddy was Vivian’s father and he worked at the refrigeration company as well. He only knew me as “Scotty” and in conversation with Karilyn on their commute homeward he would talk of our times together. One day he mentioned that he thought “Scotty” was “falling for” her. She looked puzzled and said who is this “Scotty?” He replied “Well, he is Ken.” I do not know her reaction at that moment.

As time went by we began to date more often and eventually it was apparent that I had indeed “fallen for” this young lady. She was not put off by the attention but it was obvious that there were several barriers to a closer relationship. First there was the differences in religion. Karilyn was from parent’s who were descended from the earliest members of the Church of Jesus Christ Latter Day Saints. She was brought up steeped in the doctrines of her faith. I was a non-denominational minister. Further, I was a generation older and this would be a May-September romance. In long discussions about these problems we somehow found a middle ground or the decision that it didn’t matter. In time I asked her to marry me and offered a ring. She would only accept it as a “Maybe Ring.” In the meantime we traveled to Rupert, Idaho to visit with her family. I also fell immediately in love with them. What a delight to meet her vivacious, talented mother and to exchange war stories with her dad. The children were happy to crawl all over this stranger in their midst and to be staring at me close up at first dawn when I awoke in the morn. They ranged from toddler to college age; all bursting with bright intelligence and exuberance.
Back in Sacramento after dinner at my home late in December. Karilyn said “Do you remember your proposal?” I momentarily panicked and said “Yes.” A pause and then she said “I accept.” We were married the following week. It often pays to take a chance. We have two beautiful, lovely daughters and a strong intellectual son. While we are not still together I love them all and I’m
Just sayin’

Valentine Stories

As Valentine’s Day approaches I thought it might be appropriate to tell the story of my own two marriages and how I met each of those young ladies. This is primarily done for the purpose of providing a record for any one of family or friends who are interested in family history or romance. Readers must remember that the following is from my own memory and any living person familiar with my history may have a differing view, memory or version. My meeting as a widower with the lady of my second marriage will follow in the next entry.

I met my first wife, Virginia Theresa Maue, in Cincinnati, Ohio in the summer of 1943 and the occasion was detailed in my publication of World War II correspondence “Love, Pain and the Whole Damn Thing.” This volume’s notes were written in the third person as it was the only way I could take an objective view; and, here is how I told it then:

Ken and three buddies had managed 5-day passes and, with an actual flip of a coin, decided to visit Cincinnati (The Queen City) instead of Indianapolis. They arrived there in time to celebrate Ken's birthday; and, after a quick survey of the city, they quickly learned from the local citizenry that the place to visit was "Coney Island," an amusement park on an island in the Ohio river (and parent company to the famous New York amusement center) close to the city. Thus, a visit to sample the fun was undertaken. Ken and his best friend, Keith Howe, were accompanied by two older fellows, who suggested they go in pairs, to facilitate the chance of meeting some girls.
It did not take the older lads long to meet and introduce themselves to two young ladies strolling the carnival area. Ken and Howie, both shy to the point of retardation, were not so fortunate. As they wandered aimlessly about, one of the afore-mentioned lads approached and explained that they had met two young girls, who were really "too young" girls. He (Wesley Fitzgerald) suggested that Ken and Howie, as a favor to both pairs, act as replacements. The suggestion shocked Ken, and his remarks were something to the effect that, "One just can't barge up and take over!"
To ease Ken's sensibilities, it was then proposed that Ken and Keith "happen" by and get properly introduced; whereupon, "Fitz" and the other soldier would state that they were going to go fetch some soft drinks. Once gone - - - they would never return! This plan was put into action, and it worked perfectly. After waiting the polite and obligatory amount of time, the newly introduced couples proceeded to explore and enjoy the rides and food of the amusement park together. The girls gave their ages as 16 (they lied!), and dates were made for a later week-end. This unusual meeting provides the following story, as told by the volumes of correspondence that ensued. Such are the lots that Fate casts to spell our fortunes.

This same week-end provided the opportunity for Ken to meet two other girls of the city. One, Geneva Land, he also met at Coney Island. She was older than Ken, seemed sophisticated, beautiful, brunette, bought him a birthday gift, and appeared immediately interested. He was intrigued and flattered. The other, Emelia Manocchi, was also beautiful; but, in contrast, blonde, sixteen, and seemingly helpless and needful of a strong protector. Ken was captivated. For the moment, he was enthralled by these two new friends. Virginia Theresa Maue was, at the time, an enigma. She was shy and yet strong, joyous in her appreciation of the excitement offered by the park, and yet seeming somehow to be hiding a great sorrow. So tiny, and yet so vital and lively. Something insisted that he know her better, and thus his offer to write her. But, in the meantime, there were other fish to fry. However, that "something" was already at work, and in the ensuing days it became apparent that this diminutive lass was going to crowd out his feelings for the other two. It would become no contest. He was confused at first, reluctant to let go of his relationship with Geneva, and astonished at the intensity of feeling displayed by Emelia. But he was overwhelmed by the emotions evoked by his "Jimmie."

Ken knew early on that Jimmie was the one he loved intensely; that he had to shed his attachment to the others. But, how was this caring and sensitive lad to sever these ties without causing pain? He did not find it easy, and continued to procrastinate and keep alive the friendships, hoping for an easy solution. One of life's most difficult lessons was still to be learned. Perhaps it never would be. Where the heart is involved, hurt is often nearby.

Ken and Virginia were married in Cincinnati about 6 weeks after his return from 3 yrs. of service overseas.

Did your spouse, father, or grandfather propose marriage in a romantic location or in a unique way? Is there a funny story of how grandpa finally won grandma's heart? Or vice versa? How did you meet your sweetheart? These are the stories that typically can't be found in records. Take a few moments to document them so that future generations will know the story too. Have a happy Valentine's Day!

Murder in Malmedy

The day was gloomy with a grey overcast as our column trudged up the tree-lined road that led to the Belgian village of Malmedy. Snow covered the road and fields and we were wearing white “Long John” underwear over our uniforms to help with camouflage. I remember that in spite of the cold temperature, well below freezing, I was perspiring from the march and carrying the weight of my back-pack, weapons, and belt tools. I was the lead scout on my platoon’s mission to recover the area where a massacre of American soldiers by a German combat unit of the 1st SS Panzer Division took place on Dec. 17, 1944. It was there about 100 captive American soldiers were marched into a field and systematically shot. A few survived to carry the story to our troops.

As we approached the small valley or glen that was the scene of the tragedy my squad Platoon Leader, Lt. Beardsley, asked me to accompany him to the nearest home that was visible. He needed my services as a translator of any inhabitants, who would be speaking French. After knocking and finding an elderly couple he asked, through me, if there were any German soldiers nearby. They replied that the Germans had left and were probably now positioned on the low foothills that rose in the north of this valley. I cautioned them to stay inside and protect themselves and we rejoined the squad.

As we continued our march the squad leader told us to make a line facing the foothills and to begin digging our foxholes. As first in line I moved forward and to the left and as I did so I spotted a small depression in the snow that looked like a suitable place to dig as it was already sunken below the ground level a few inches. This proved to be a mistake as it had been filled with water and now had a floor of ice. It was too late to change position as we had already begun to attract rifle fire. I chipped away with my entrenching tool, a small shovel with a folding handle. In time I had a spot fashioned where I could at least lie prone with reasonable protection. My spot was on the extreme end of the line on the left side. There was no visible target so we mainly just held our positions as the ground we occupied was the objective wanted by the higher command. They would later check the area carefully for evidence to use in any War Crimes trial that would follow the end of hostilities. But soon the opposition began to strengthen. A machine gun began to chatter from the hills; and, then, mortar shells began to land near us in the field. A very close shell landed just to my right and I felt the shock of the blast and a burning sensation on my back. I found that a fragment of the shell had landed midway on my back and was still very hot to the touch. I later carried that fragment of shell throughout my service as a good luck charm.
As the gunfire continued to gain in intensity and we began to fire back at the flashes my squad leader, Sgt. Irvine, yelled out “Who is on the end of the line?” I answered, “It is me, Scotty.” He then shouted “Go over to the Sgt. Harmon’s squad across the road and tell him to phone the Captain that we are getting heavy fire.”

This was a daunting task. The distance was probably 100 yds. over a white field of snow without a bush or tree to offer minimal protection. I yelled back an affirmative, took a deep breath and began a slogging run, zigzagging back and forth as I went. A sniper fired about two shots at me. I heard the first as it snapped by and the second just missed as I dove into the first foxhole of my destination. It happened to be a deep one dug by Sgt. Harmon himself and the bullet meant for me nicked him in the rear end. After catching my breath and examining the sergeant I used his first aid packet to dress his minor flesh wound with gauze and sulfa powder. He later was awarded the Purple Heart and you can bet I teased him about his wound for the rest of our service together.
Our troops managed to hold the ground until late at night. Then we were gathered into the basement of a home for protection as the enemy began to send Tiger tanks into the area. These fired 88 cal. shells like a huge rifle and we were no match for this opposition. We had one air recon officer with us but the overcast skies meant we could not expect any air support and his communication with any artillery units was unrewarding. Our commanding officer, a Major, contacted our Col. Irvine for advice and was given the order to hold our position! As the tank shells began to zero in on the house above us the Major decided to ignore the order and we began a retreat through the darkness toward our own main forward lines. In this instance I was the trailing soldier in a single file column with only the recon officer behind me. We had been cautioned to keep as silent as possible and to keep at least 10 ft. distance from the man in front. With the overcast no star or moonlight was visible and the darkness was pitch black. From time to time I had to turn back to the recon man and tell him to back off. Obviously he was very nervous and would move closer until he was virtually in lock step with me. In due time we passed by some soldiers on either side of the road who seemed to be digging in. You could hear them working and whispering occasionally, but we were never challenged. Maybe 20 minutes later we were challenged by a forward guard with “Halt! Who goes there?” It was an outpost and we were delighted to have reached our own lines. We mentioned passing the other soldiers without a challenge and he said “There are no other soldiers in front of me. You must have walked right through German troops.” This proved to be true.

The leaders of the unit involved in the massacre of our soldiers were brought to trial and convicted after the war. Co. “C” of our Armored Inf. Bn., were appointed special guards for the German leaders who were being tried at Nuremburg. This is just one episode of my service in combat. Life becomes one stressful occasion after another when fighting a war far from home and no end in sight; you have to live in the moment My heart goes out to those who are facing the same in our ventures overseas today and to their families and loved ones that anxiously await their return. Let’s speed up the return of our troops this year - - - I am
Just sayin’

Saints and Sinners

I am a notorious hero-worshipper. I am always excited to see some celebrity in person and have seen a few in my time - - from presidents to pugilists and movie stars to musicians. This is a part of American life and, I am certain for most of the world. We cluster around the stage to touch the hand of Jay Leno on the Tonight Show; stand in long lines for tickets to our favorite concerts and, as portrayed in an earlier entry, crowd in with over 2 million to watch our president’s inaugural ceremony. But, with that given, we should all be cautious in our worship. These people are humans just like we are. They make mistakes, they have problems, they lose their tempers and get into trouble, sometimes serious trouble.

Every daily newspaper or TV news show has at least one story about a celebrity that has a problem or is in some kind of trouble. Our heroes are often featured in career crushing incidents or escapades. Government nominees are revealed to be less than what we expected; governors and other politicos are involved in scandals or outright criminal acts; sports figures are listed in altercations with police, other competitors or the public; DUIs are common.

In recent years we have read of the problems of baseball stars such as Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, and others. Football and basketball have their rebellious sons make the news with alcohol, domestic abuse and/or animal abuse and serious problems. Hockey players have been charged with criminal assault (isn’t that just normal play?). Well, let’s just say that our disappointment covers those in all fields of endeavor.

I am not so sure we should totally forgive all of these celebrities. After all, most of them owe their wealth and fame to the fascination of their fans, be it politics, sports or whatever. Most of them are possible role models for the youth of our country. They and their actions are imitated and mirrored by the young, so it was sad to read of the stumble by Michael Phelps the Olympic Champ, who has been touted all over the place for his great ethical training methods and his devotion to his sport. Now we find him toking on weed. Michael, I know you are young and enjoying your new wealth and fame - - - but stop and think, lad, I am
Just sayin’