“It Took Me 28 Years, but…”

Around 10-12 years ago I was in San Antonio, TX for a visit.  Part of my plan was to play golf at Randolph Field with my good friend, Mikey.  At the time, Mikey was flying for an “Air Life” outfit in San Antonio.  As it turned out, it was a beautiful morning when we teed off, and there was just the two of us.

When we completed the 1st hole, Mikey began telling me a story.  It subsequently took 4 or 5 holes to complete, but rest assured, I won’t string it out that long for you!  His story began in the early ’70’s when he was an Instructor Pilot on helicopters in Utah.

This one weekend Mikey spent skiing with his girlfriend at the time.  He dropped her off at her house on Sunday afternoon and went home.

Early Monday morning when he reported to work Mikey was met by his squadron commander; informing him that the Inspector General (IG) team had arrived overnight for a unit inspection and that the IG himself, General Chuck Yeager had requested to fly with him, by name.  He then went on to tell Mikey to report to his house so his wife could give him a haircut.  Mikey complied, and then went back to the squadron – with his new haircut.

Upon reporting to the squadron, Mikey met General Yeager, then they went out to fly.  I asked Mikey what flying with him was like and he said that the general more or less, did most of the flying, hardly saying anything.  The check ride was uneventful, and Mikey thought nothing more of it…

Sometime mid-week  Mikey called his girlfriend and asked her if she would like to meet him for Happy Hour.  She agreed, then told him she wanted to hear about his check ride with General Yeager.  How the hell did she know?

When she eventually met Mikey she told him that when she went into the house after being dropped off that past Sunday, “Uncle Chuck” and her dad were sitting in the living room, drunk as skunks!  The General asked her where she had been and when she told him, he replied something to the effect of, “What’s he fly like?”

When she replied that she had no idea, he said, “Well hell, I’ll go fly with the sob…” or something like that.

Mikey felt he had been “set up.”

Now as we passed Hole #3, Mikey continued.

A couple-3 weeks earlier Mikey received a call from a classmate from the Academy.  The guy was “connected” to Wilford Hall, the major USAF hospital in San Antonio.  He went on to tell Mikey that they had the General in the hospital.

Seems the General, now in his late 70s, was up on a ladder, trimming some trees for his girlfriend – with a chain saw!  When he cut this one branch, the tree shifted tossing him off the ladder.  He jettisoned the chain saw and fell to the ground, blowing out a lung.  So he wound up at Wilford Hall.

And wouldn’t ya know it, Mikey soon had a mission that took him to Wilford.  After they off-loaded their patient, Mikey headed up to the ward where General Yeager was.  It was around 1 or 2 in the morning.  When he found the nurses’ station for that ward, he encountered a cute little nurse.

Mikey introduced himself, then explained how he had flown with General Yeager in the Air Force.  He went on to explain how he would like to just pop in and say “hi.”  He then told her that if the General was sleeping, he wouldn’t bother him.  She thought for a moment, then gave him permission to look in on the General.

Well, the General was sleeping, so Mikey headed back to the nurses’ station.  He told the cute little nurse that the General was sleeping, and asked her if she had anything he could write a note for him with.  She in turn, gave him a piece of paper from her tablet.  So Mikey cranks out this note:

“General Yeager,

I stopped in earlier to administer your meds, and you were sleeping so peacefully – with the most magnificent ‘boner’ I have ever seen on a man – that I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you.  Please ring your call button when your wake up.”  And he signed the cute little nurse’s name to it!

“It took me 28 years Bobby, but I got that sob!”  Mikey exclaimed as we completed #6!

And now you know why Mikey is one of my closest friends!

 

 

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Your Underwear is in Your Lower, Right-hand Drawer, Sir…

From Nov. 1978 – Jul.1980 I worked for (another) great boss, Jerry H.  I had known Jerry from Vance.   When my T-38 IP tour was coming to an end, I began looking for a follow-on assignment.  My first choice was an A-10 assignment, but that was not to be.  I then contacted the C-141 rated officer assignment guy and he wanted to send me to C-141s at either Charleston AFB, SC or Norton AFB, CA.  I wanted to go to McChord AFB, WA but they were “overloaded” in captains…

Jerry worked at HQ ATC Flight Safety at that time.  I was the Chief of Safety at Vance.  We talked quite a bit, and as my assignment time neared, he offered me a job.  It was, more or less, a “no-brainer!”  A Command job, and a flying position – in the T-38!  So we headed south to Randolph Field, TX.

I enjoyed working for Jerry.  He gave us “direction,” then stepped back and pretty much left us alone.  I work so much better in that environment than I do with “micro-managers!”  Anyway…

One Friday Jerry was heading to the West Coast on a cross-country navigation mission.  His big mistake was bringing his helmet bag, with his clothes, into the office.  (We used our helmet bags as ‘suit cases’ in the T-38.  A helmet bag could easily hold a pair of jeans, a couple changes of underwear and toiletries, along with a shirt or two.  Then the helmet bag fit nicely into our fiberglass seat packs.)  But when you’re going cross country, you never bring your clothes into your flight room!  It’s just too easy a target!

So, when Jerry went to his morning staff meeting, I took the opportunity to remove his underwear from his helmet bag – and replace it with a note.  “Hey Jerry, I can just imagine you standing there, nude, wondering where the hell your underwear is.  Well Sir, it’s in your lower, right-hand drawer.”   He then went his way, and I went mine…

Around 8 or so that evening I received a collect call from Jerry.  ‘Collect calls,’ remember those?  He was laughing his ass off!  Then he began to tell me how funny it was… and he talked, and talked and talked.  It wasn’t long before I figured out what he was doing – he was running up my phone bill!  You know what, turn about is fair play, and we have laughed about this for many years since.  Jerry was a “good sport” about it all, and I treasure his friendship…

So, why would I do something like this to a “friend,” much less a boss?  Hell, I don’t know… I guess I’m just not “quite right.”

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Swiss Family Holliker: Johannes – Rein – Physical Description

(Volder) Rein sits West of the Aare River, somewhat on a hill top.  This is a depiction of the village in a book published in 1705.

This would be the view looking “North.”  When I visited Switzerland in May 1999, I took this shot:

The church has been rebuilt, but essentially sits on the same spot.  And although a lot of the village detail is hidden by the trees now, it also remains as shown in the 1705 drawing.  For example, the cemetery depicted in the drawing is still present today; again essentially in the same location.

With the path shown in the drawing, and seen in my picture, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine Johannes traveling it as he may have worked the fields.  I couldn’t resist:

I so wanted to retrace his steps, as often as I could, when I could…

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Swiss Family Holliker: Johannes – Rein – Community

This is actually the crest of Rufenach, Switzerland.  The municipality of Rufenach absorbed Rein some time ago.  They sit about 2-3 miles apart.

This map is oriented North.  The pin, “A,” denotes Stilli, where Max lives.  Rein is just to the South of Stilli.  And of course, to make this all more confusing, there are two communities of Rein:   Vorder Rein und Hinter Rein.  ‘Vorder’ in German is ‘front;’ ‘hinter’ is ‘behind.’  Well, okay.  Johannes was raised in Vorder Rein.

Rein is a farm community.  The farmers in the area all live in town and farm the surrounding fields as is the custom in Switzerland.

I don’t imagine the communities of Rein, of the early 1800s, were much larger than they are today.  Very small communities.  The church is located in Vorder Rein, and was the focus of the society in the days of Johannes.

Often the church pastor was the most educated man of the community.  It fell upon him to record the activities of the community: births, deaths, marriages, baptisms, etc.  These events were recorded in “registers,” and kept within the churches – usually in the basements.  I have been in a couple of these churches now, and have seen these registers.  Fascinating.  They are written in “old German,” but once you become familiar with the language, they can be read quite easily (especially if you can read “new German.”)

In the days of Johannes’ youth, Swiss communities held “moral juries” to conduct community business.  Things like conflict resolution, village business, and so forth, were discussed and resolved at these moral juries.  And it often fell to the village pastor to record the proceedings, again in registers kept in the church basement.  It is from these registers that today we have an appreciation of what life was like in those days.  It is through Max’s work with these registers that I have the insight into Johannes’ life in Rein before came to America.

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Swiss Family Holliker: Johannes – Meeting Max

I need to take a “time out” here to describe how I met Herr Dr. Max Baumann.  Max has been so helpful to me – to get this story to where it is today.

When Bud Bauman and I got to Switzerland in May 1999, we got caught up with Max at his house in Silli, Switzerland.  Max’s house sits on the banks of the Aare River.  This is Max and me, beginning our friendship.

That’s the Aare River, just out the back of his house.

I was introduced to Max just before this picture was taken.  As he thought about my last name, he suddenly exclaimed, “Holliker; I know this name!”

When Max retired from being a university professor (teaching Swiss history), he began doing village research (for commission)  for Swiss communities.  It just so happened I met him just after he completed a book on Rein and Rufenach.  (Rein is such a small community it is now included with Rufenach.)  Rein is where Johannes is from.  So he took me out to the porch here, opened his computer and the lecture began!  How cool was that?  And what do you think the chances of meeting (probably) the one guy who had the answers for a lot of the questions I had?

More research

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Feeding Pheasants…

“They” tell us we can’t ‘domesticate’ pheasants, and I suppose we can’t…

I currently have 25 pheasants I am raising to release.  I hunted these beautiful birds for so many years, and still would hunt, if I didn’t have to pay for it.  (Another topic for another day).  In 6 weeks or so I’ll release these guys to the wild, and hold back 5 or 6 to breed next spring.  They will lay eggs in captivity; they just usually won’t sit on ’em – and I’m just too damn busy around here to sit on ’em myself.

For the last week or so I have been sitting in their pen with a handful of feed, just before I feed them.  I spend a little time in there every day and they don’t seem to be to bothered by me.  A couple-3 days ago a couple of them came up and took feed from my hand.  That is so cool!

I am sure glad I never learned to listen to “they!”

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Hey Al, You Grabbed the Wrong ‘Pony’…

In the Air Force every year we had to take a minimum of two check rides (flight evaluations): a proficiency (contact) check and an instrument check.

Part of the instrument check was the annual instrument exam.  This was an ‘open book’ test of approximately 100 questions.  It was fairly thorough covering all aspects of instrument flying, and usually took about an hour and a half to complete.

In the mid-seventies I was flying T-38s at Vance AFB, OK.  This one year the instrument exam was administered in a large auditorium by a couple guys from the Student Squadron.  They sat up front, and we all spread throughout the auditorium.

It was ‘common knowledge’ that there were ‘ponies’ for the annual contact and instrument exams.  (A ‘pony’ was ‘cheat-sheet’ of the exam answers.  I never used them as I felt I needed the review the exam was intended for.)  Anyway, this one morning our exam began around 0830.  About 0900 I saw two guys head down toward the exam administrators to have their tests graded.  One guy was Al, a very well respected mid-level squadron supervisor.

Although I didn’t know Al hardly at all, I liked him.  He had a demeanor somewhat like the ‘Fonz.’  He was a short guy and could frequently be seen walking through the squadron with his flight suit collar turned up and a cigarette hanging from his mouth.  I hardly ever saw Al smile, but that was okay…

And so this morning Al heads down to have his test graded, then he’s outta there.  One of the test administrators takes the grade sheet out, the sheet marked “Annual Instrument Exam,” and overlays it on Al’s answer sheet.  There are hardly any answers that line up.  The grader looks kinda perplexed, moves the answer sheet one way then the other, but it still doesn’t line up.  He then reaches down into his briefcase and takes out another grade sheet – the one marked Annual T-38 Proficiency Exam.

This time the answers line up perfectly.  Al’s cigarette almost falls from his mouth!  The grader looks up and says, “Hey Al, you grabbed the wrong pony!’  Al just about shit.

At this time the second guy turned on his heals to head back to his seat for a bit.  “Not so fast Pat,” one of the grader guys said.

“Father Pat,” as I called him, as he resembled a Catholic priest more than an IP, without skipping a beat said, “Oh, I just had a question…” as he continued to his seat!  Great recovery!

Al was not turned in, and we all had a great laugh from it all… and I think a lot of us ‘learned’ from it.  In later years I knew of some guys who weren’t as lucky with their ‘ponies.’  Oh well…

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The Swiss Family Holliker: Johannes – Military Discharge

The next document I came across was Johannes’ military discharge.  Military service in Switzerland is compulsory, as I think it should be in our nation.  But this is a subject for another post sometime…

The document further validates his birth year (1803) and lists his occupation as a “Landmann,” e.g., “Farmer of Rein.”  So here I picked up that Johannes had an interest in farming, even though I don’t think he owned a  farm at that time.

Johannes was released from military service on 6 August 1828, when he was 24.

 

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The Swiss Family Holliker: Johannes – Confirmation

This is the Certificate of Confirmation for Johannes:

Again, the first thing I noticed are the folds.  Then we see his birthday stated as the 27th of the winter month of 1803.  This just serves to tell us we are dealing with the right guy.

The certificate then tells us that Johannes received instruction in the Christian Evangelical-Reformed religion and as of Easter 1819, was allowed to partake of Holy Communion.  He would have been 15 at that time.

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E’spirit de Corps Replaced by Professionaliam…

I came across this picture the other day.  It was taken just before I took off on my “Fini-Flight” on 15 July 1988.

023_2_3

I had to chuckle when I saw it.   The two guys on the left of Chris were both majors, about 6 to 8 years younger than Rick and me.  They both worked at Headquarters Air Training Command (ATC).  What cracks me up here is how “professional” they look vs. Rick and me.  Notice that they totally comply with the guidance put out by the “Command Queers.” (Now I mean no disrespect to gays here…it’s just what we called Command Queers in those days.)  Their sleeves and collars are down, and their G-suits completely zipped.  And they are carrying those cute little purses – what’s with those?  Oh well…

I think, in retrospect, I got out at a good time.  From what I hear, the Command Queers, Beer Nazis and Shoeclerks pretty well run the USAF anymore… EABODs!

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