Found letter
July 15, 1998
Dear Dave,
I don't remember for sure how much contact we had after your wedding, but I seem to recall an occasional letter for a couple years. So I will start from February 1972 and outline what I have done since then in pretty broad strokes; each line could probably produce it's own story.
I graduated from pilot training in June 1972 and was plowed back as a T-38 IP at Williams. I went to Randolf for IP training in October and was back at Williams a month later permanently grounded medically. I floated for a couple months and then connected with the Human Resources Laboratory there at Williams where I got into computer programming for flight simulator R&D. We did some work that had impact on civil aviation as well as the AF.
In January 1976 I went to Ramstein to a computer squadron that was in direct support of Allied Air Forces Central Europe. I was totally unused for nearly eight months until a new commander came in and shook things up, at which point I co-led a team that rewrote a "politically hot" system that had been FUBAR. Then I designed, by myself, what would now be called an Email system, which connected a third generation mainframe computer to a WW II vintage teletype communications system; wind blowing the wires caused data corruption. I resigned and left the AF in July 1977.
I had set aside some money and decided to take off one year or until the money ran out, which ever came first. I worked on my uncles' cattle ranch in Montana for a while and traveled quite a bit. If you draw a line from the Olympic Peninsula to Orlando, I was in every state south of the line and all the states north of the line and west of the Mississippi. In August 1978 I went back to Williams to HRL and programmed simulators as a contractor working for Singer. At that time we did the first F-16 simulator.
Then I came under the simultaneous influence of Harry Browne's doom and gloom economic forecasts, Helen and Scott Nearing's back to the land philosophy, and pot. In the fall of 1979 I cashed in all my chips and moved to northwest Arkansas. In January 1980 the building where I had stored nearly everything I owned burned to the ground, effectively wiping out physical evidence of my past. I built an 8 by 16 foot cabin without running water or electricity and lived on less than $5,000 a year for the next six years.
I read a lot: philosophy, religion, science fiction, astronomy, and physics, the latter two in 'popular' form rather than technical. I made the little money I needed as a carpenter, stone mason's assistant, mechanic, and graphic artist paste up assistant. In the fall of 1986 I enrolled in the Masters program in Electrical Engineering at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville. I only lasted two semesters before dropping out: I could handle the young students not being in touch with reality, but I couldn't handle the instructor's being out of touch; I didn't fully comprehend the import of 'ivory tower.'
At that point I was out of money, pretty seriously depressed, and emotionally addicted to pot. I knew I had to get out of Arkansas, so I moved to Des Moines. My sister had been living here for years and I had spent quite a bit of time visiting her. Des Moines was big enough for me to find something to do, but not too big. I moved in the fall of 1987. I worked temporary clerical jobs and then worked as a receivables clerk in the clinic of an osteopathic university. In July 1988 I was hired by a small company to 'automate' their books. I became 'the computer department' functioning as network administrator, database administrator, system analyst, programmer, and help desk. I also designed and built a couple metering systems for moving and measuring bulk liquids, and handled anything that plugged in and had buttons and an instruction manual.
In June 1991, while driving to Montana on vacation I was thinking about whether I would ever find a companion. I finally just said, "I DON'T CARE!" The day I returned to work, when I got on the bus, there she was. She had transferred into town while I was on vacation. We talked every morning and afternoon. Labor Day we went on our first date. Christmas Eve we got a marriage license. New Year's Eve we took a long lunch, went to the courthouse, and got married. She is just a few days younger than me. We had to pay our dues individually before we were ready, but after six and a half years, the honeymoon still isn't over. She has a son who is 26 and is in the army now. We have two cats. Her name is Nancy.
In May of this year I left the company I had been with since 1988. I have been working on projects around the house and thinking about what I am going to do next.
It is interesting that you should pop out of the past at this point. Less than a month ago, two people I worked with at HRL, and who are still working there, were in Iowa so we were able to visit for the first time in 18 years.
I am really glad to hear that you and Joyce are still together. I remember at one point before I moved to Des Moines, counting up and discovering that among my friends and acquaintances, divorces out numbered marriages two to one. I smile every time I think about how you got together, the phone call when you asked me to be in the wedding, and when Joyce backed me up against the wall after the rehearsal dinner and threatened my life. Come to think of it, I guess it's a good thing you're still together - otherwise I would be a hunted man; either that or dead! No, come to think of it, she said "If anything goes wrong tomorrow, I'm going to kill you." I think that only referred to the wedding. Well, you better stay together anyway, just in case; I don't want to have to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.
I guess I better stop before this crosses the boundary from 'dropping a line' to 'landing an opus.' I'd be interested to hear what the last 25 years have been for you, too.
Donald
Dear Dave,
I don't remember for sure how much contact we had after your wedding, but I seem to recall an occasional letter for a couple years. So I will start from February 1972 and outline what I have done since then in pretty broad strokes; each line could probably produce it's own story.
I graduated from pilot training in June 1972 and was plowed back as a T-38 IP at Williams. I went to Randolf for IP training in October and was back at Williams a month later permanently grounded medically. I floated for a couple months and then connected with the Human Resources Laboratory there at Williams where I got into computer programming for flight simulator R&D. We did some work that had impact on civil aviation as well as the AF.
In January 1976 I went to Ramstein to a computer squadron that was in direct support of Allied Air Forces Central Europe. I was totally unused for nearly eight months until a new commander came in and shook things up, at which point I co-led a team that rewrote a "politically hot" system that had been FUBAR. Then I designed, by myself, what would now be called an Email system, which connected a third generation mainframe computer to a WW II vintage teletype communications system; wind blowing the wires caused data corruption. I resigned and left the AF in July 1977.
I had set aside some money and decided to take off one year or until the money ran out, which ever came first. I worked on my uncles' cattle ranch in Montana for a while and traveled quite a bit. If you draw a line from the Olympic Peninsula to Orlando, I was in every state south of the line and all the states north of the line and west of the Mississippi. In August 1978 I went back to Williams to HRL and programmed simulators as a contractor working for Singer. At that time we did the first F-16 simulator.
Then I came under the simultaneous influence of Harry Browne's doom and gloom economic forecasts, Helen and Scott Nearing's back to the land philosophy, and pot. In the fall of 1979 I cashed in all my chips and moved to northwest Arkansas. In January 1980 the building where I had stored nearly everything I owned burned to the ground, effectively wiping out physical evidence of my past. I built an 8 by 16 foot cabin without running water or electricity and lived on less than $5,000 a year for the next six years.
I read a lot: philosophy, religion, science fiction, astronomy, and physics, the latter two in 'popular' form rather than technical. I made the little money I needed as a carpenter, stone mason's assistant, mechanic, and graphic artist paste up assistant. In the fall of 1986 I enrolled in the Masters program in Electrical Engineering at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville. I only lasted two semesters before dropping out: I could handle the young students not being in touch with reality, but I couldn't handle the instructor's being out of touch; I didn't fully comprehend the import of 'ivory tower.'
At that point I was out of money, pretty seriously depressed, and emotionally addicted to pot. I knew I had to get out of Arkansas, so I moved to Des Moines. My sister had been living here for years and I had spent quite a bit of time visiting her. Des Moines was big enough for me to find something to do, but not too big. I moved in the fall of 1987. I worked temporary clerical jobs and then worked as a receivables clerk in the clinic of an osteopathic university. In July 1988 I was hired by a small company to 'automate' their books. I became 'the computer department' functioning as network administrator, database administrator, system analyst, programmer, and help desk. I also designed and built a couple metering systems for moving and measuring bulk liquids, and handled anything that plugged in and had buttons and an instruction manual.
In June 1991, while driving to Montana on vacation I was thinking about whether I would ever find a companion. I finally just said, "I DON'T CARE!" The day I returned to work, when I got on the bus, there she was. She had transferred into town while I was on vacation. We talked every morning and afternoon. Labor Day we went on our first date. Christmas Eve we got a marriage license. New Year's Eve we took a long lunch, went to the courthouse, and got married. She is just a few days younger than me. We had to pay our dues individually before we were ready, but after six and a half years, the honeymoon still isn't over. She has a son who is 26 and is in the army now. We have two cats. Her name is Nancy.
In May of this year I left the company I had been with since 1988. I have been working on projects around the house and thinking about what I am going to do next.
It is interesting that you should pop out of the past at this point. Less than a month ago, two people I worked with at HRL, and who are still working there, were in Iowa so we were able to visit for the first time in 18 years.
I am really glad to hear that you and Joyce are still together. I remember at one point before I moved to Des Moines, counting up and discovering that among my friends and acquaintances, divorces out numbered marriages two to one. I smile every time I think about how you got together, the phone call when you asked me to be in the wedding, and when Joyce backed me up against the wall after the rehearsal dinner and threatened my life. Come to think of it, I guess it's a good thing you're still together - otherwise I would be a hunted man; either that or dead! No, come to think of it, she said "If anything goes wrong tomorrow, I'm going to kill you." I think that only referred to the wedding. Well, you better stay together anyway, just in case; I don't want to have to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.
I guess I better stop before this crosses the boundary from 'dropping a line' to 'landing an opus.' I'd be interested to hear what the last 25 years have been for you, too.
Donald
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