Author Archives: Bobo

Christmas in 1962…

It was a bleak, cold, dreary Christmas at Chambley AFB, France in 1962.  Chambley is in Northern France, in the Alsace-Lorraine district, just south of the German border.  Dear Old Dad was stationed there as part of the NATO/Air Force … Continue reading

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Recovery – The Trip Home…

I got out of Hazelden on 28 August 1994.  Felt real good.  When I got to the airport I passed by the usual “watering holes” I would have stopped by to kill the time.  Instead I opened “The Big Book,” … Continue reading

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The Sweedish Girls, Again…

Don’t listen to ‘the Sweedish Girls,’ when staring too hard at this picture… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vwnu5PfGWzY I learned the ‘hard way,’ and still haven’t learned…    

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Growing Up Without Adult Supervision

I pulled this comment of Brain’s from a recent post here on LPB, “The Ramey AFB O’Club Pool.”  It captures the “essence” of my youth: “Jeez, I swam there almost every day from 1961-1964!   Used to go to swimming practice … Continue reading

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Fine Dining at Red Robin

We have a chain of burger joints here in NW Ohio, “Red Robin.”  They serve good burgers, and great fries.  A while back, my “Burger Low Level” light came on, so I stopped by to rectify the problem. When my … Continue reading

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The Return to Say “Thank You”

In early September 1957 we moved into our quarters on “D” Street at Ramey AFB, Puerto Rico.  I remember that first bright, sunny Thursday, when Mom came home from the Commissary with a trunk load of groceries.  As I was … Continue reading

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No Habba Chicken Eggs

When we flew into Saigon, in C-141s, we would often stop by the flightline cafeteria for breakfast or lunch as the aircraft was offloaded and uploaded with cargo.  At that cafeteria they had this little “mama-san,” perhaps in her early … Continue reading

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The Swedish Girls

I awoke around midnight the other night.  No particular reason, I just woke up.  Not wanting to just lay there wondering why I couldn’t sleep, I turned on the TV and found Letterman.  He was just introducing the group, “First … Continue reading

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Our Town

I don’t know if I can ever fully appreciate how Johannes Holliger must have felt that early spring day in April 1833, as he readied himself to leave his home in Rein, Switzerland.  Johannes was 30 years old, and I … Continue reading

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Flying, and Life…

One of the things I learned about flying is, there is really nothing “tough” about it – when you break it down.  I think I can make my point here by using a typical T-38 “contact” mission (contact missions encompass … Continue reading

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