«
»

From Chuck Yeager. 1944 Shot down France

March 17th, 2013 . Posted in Aviation, Fishing, Flying with Chuck Yeager, Historical, Uncategorized, World War II | Comments Off on From Chuck Yeager. 1944 Shot down France
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

March 4, 1944 1st daylight raid over Berlin. Weather was stinkin’. Only 2 P-51s guarding a box of bombers. They hit their targes. I shot down my first enemy aircraft (a/c). Woo hoo.

I was out of ammo returning home. I espied the stragglers of the bombers in formation heading home. I called ahead. “Can I form up with you, I’m out of ammo and could sure use some protection.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t let your trigger guys shoot me down.” You see, P-51s looked somewhat like German aircraft. Me -109, FW 190.

I formed up. We got home safe.

March 5, 1944: This time we headed to Bordeaux – to bomb a factory. Weather was still stinkin’. We could not see the target so we headed east for a target of opportunity. I was tail-end Charlie, called out bandits at 6:00 and turned into them. Three of them and I did a head on pass.

They won.

I didn’t have to climb out of my a/c – it was falling apart all around me. I stepped off. And free fell for 25,000′.

At around 6000′, I pulled the chute. It…..

opened.

As I floated down, I headed for the forest, grabbed a sapling and rode it to the ground. Just like West Virginia.

I gathered the parachute up, couch-walked in the woods a few miles – had to get away from where I came down in case anyone saw me – and hid.

Ain’t a German in the world can catch a West Virginian in the woods.

As I sat and assessed my situation, I noticed I was wounded, so I opened my survival kit, got out the sulfa powder and put it on my wounds – groin area, hands.

I slept a little.

March 6, 1944: In the morning, I heard a rhythmic banging. I crawled to where I could see – it was a woodsman chopping wood.

We played charades – he didn’t speak English, I didn’t speak French. Told me to wait right there- he would be back.

I moved off 20 yards, repositioned with protection from and a good view of where I had met the woodsman.

He returned with 2 men, whispering: American, where are you?

I sussed them out – they were unarmed and not menacing so I presented myself.

They took me to a Russian lady who spoke English. She ran a sort of hotel.

Her first words: Has America run out of men already that they have to send boys?

When I didn’t respond, she said, Are you married?

Me: No.

RL: “Aha! You are wearing a ring!” as she pointed at my right hand.

I looked; then explained: that’s my high school ring.

RL: That’s your wedding ring finger.

Mr: In America, we were the wedding ring on the left hand.

I guess I pass – not a German trying to infiltrate the Maquis. They give me civilian clothes and hide me in the barn. Some Germans poked in the hay, but I was about as far back as one could get. Just hoping they’d miss. Glad now of the lack of food and being skinny – they can tease me about being skinny all they want  – maybe the pitchfork will go either side of me and I’ll have the last laugh.

They told me to rest up – that night they were taking me to another hide-out.

Good – this one was dicey. But the Germans had already been so probably wouldn’t be back….

March 6, 1944 evening: dark

We ride off on bicycles: make it as far as Castaljaloux where they put me in a house for the rest of the night and the next day.

March 7, 1944 evening

At night, a couple of men take me to a farm where I spend a week with a young couple with a young son. It’s off the beaten path. The house is beyond some tall hedges and fairly far in from the road.

Again, I slept in the barn. It was a young couple with a young son named Jean about age 6.

March 8, 1944. Jean and I played soccer. Then he took me to a little lake where we fished. I’m alert. The Germans are probably still on the prowl looking for me. If I am caught, not only I, but this family too, would be tortured and killed. They are truly risking their necks for me and I sure appreciate it.

March 9-10, 1944. More soccer, more fishing. Jean’s mother makes a shirt from my parachute for me. I must admit with the clothes they have given me, especially the beret, I do look French.

March 11, 1944: I’m getting a little antsy. Will I spend the rest of the war here? Was it still going on? What was happening?

March 12, 1944: Staying in one spot too long can be wearing on a family. The tension and risk grows daily.

March 13, 1944. I’m glad to be able to provide some food for the family by fishing. But the days are long. It’s quite cold – a very frigid winter here. I’m used to cold – West Virginia can be freezing in the hollers in the winter. No sun at all. I always say I was born so far up a holler, they had to pipe daylight in.

March 14. They tell me to get some rest. I’m leaving tonight. Jean looks a little sad – his adult friend is leaving.

March 15, ’44.Dr. Henri & I bicycle all night, sleep in the woods during the day. Then bicycle to get to the outskirts of Nerac. Dr. Henri (Cahn) leaves me with Gabriel LaPeyrusse. Gabriel hides me in his barn.

March 16, ’44. They want to hide me in the attic. No way. No way out and probably 1st place Nazis would look. I stick to the barn. For now.

March 17, ’44: Sitting around waiting. Gabriel is Mayor of Nerac & head of the Maquis & French Underground. He brings his vegetables 2 market every Saturday. Another has radio, brings Gabriel at market, the week’s messages.

March 18, ’44: I venture a little closer to the road – watch the passersby from under the shade of the tree, think about my next move. How am I going to get back to Americans and on combat?

March 18, ’44: As I’m sitting under the tree at Gabriel’s house, a large group of German soldiers marches by. I don’t move a muscle.

March 18, ’44: After German soldiers are gone, I breathe again. Gabriel, apoplectic, makes it clear: if I don’t keep in hiding, “You & me!” & he slides his finger across his neck. Gulp.

March 18, ’44 I went back to the shed. I’m just not good at sitting around but torture or getting my benefactor killed isn’t my idea of a good time either.

March 19, ’44: I notice in the shed Gabriel had a single cylinder engine that wasn’t working. So I set to it. As a kid, my Dad came home to see me amongst a lot of pieces of an engine. “Son, you gonna be able to put that back together?” Me: Yes, I took it apart, didn’t I?” And as promised, I put that one back together running smooth.

Please visit Part II

c. GCYI

Did You Have the Best View? World War II

March 6th, 2013 . Posted in Aviation, Flying with Chuck Yeager, Historical, Humor, World War II | Comments Off on Did You Have the Best View? World War II
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

‎Two years ago, General Yeager and I met a couple, about 86 at the time, who had been having a tryst in a barn on March 5, 1944 before they were married.

Here she is in 1940’s. She looks just the same 70 years later:

WW II – saw Gen Yeager’s plane crashing

The husband was avoiding being conscripted by the Germans so they had to meet clandestinely. In fact, that day of the tryst, the Germans had come to his parents’ house looking for him. They said he didn’t know where he was and then got word to him not to come back. He called her his lucky charm.

WWII – male lover who saw Yeager’s P-51 coming down

They saw General Yeager’s plane, after he and it were shot down, as, pilotless, in pieces, it raced to the ground.

So we were filming their story. We asked her if when the camera rolled, she would tell this story.

She hesitated. She really didn’t want to let the world know that her husband and she had been fooling around before they were married.

I told her – ah but no, it’s a love story. You got married 3 months later (after D-Day) and are still together enjoying life and each other 66 years later.

To encourage her, I called General Yeager over and translated that she and her husband, before they were married were having a tryst which was interrupted by the plane careening to the ground near them.

Without skipping a beat, with that mischievous twinkle in his eye, CY said: Now, did you have the best view? Were you on the bottom?

When I translated, the woman giggled :-)  Only Gen Yeager could get away with that.

Hilarious.

c. GCYI  Photos courtesy of the Bellocs

March 8, 1944

March 6th, 2013 . Posted in Daily Life with Chuck Yeager, World War II | Comments Off on March 8, 1944
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

At night, a couple of men take me to a farm where I spend a week with a young couple with a young son. It’s off the beaten path. The house is beyond some tall hedges and fairly far in from the road. I spend a lot of time playing soccer with their young son. I learn a little French.

I’m alert. The Germans are probably still on the prowl looking for me. The young mother makes a shirt for me out of the parachute material. I’m given a beret. I look rather French in my outfit actually.

The couple is risking their necks to keep me safe. It’s fairly cold winter but I’m used to it – West Virginia could be frigid.

c. GCYI

The 69th anniversary of being Shot down

March 6th, 2013 . Posted in Aviation, Flying with Chuck Yeager, Historical | Comments Off on The 69th anniversary of being Shot down
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

General Yeager:

I was shot down 69 years and one day ago. The day before, I had shot down his 1st enemy aircraft on the first daylight raid on Berlin. The weather was stinkin’.

I was only one of  2 P-51s and a box of bombers who didn’t get the call back. I was out of ammo so headed home. Saw the remainder of the bombers, called ahead: I’m coming in but tell your gunners not to shoot me down. They were trigger happy – and understandably so. Bombers were somewhat like sittin’ ducks. And the P-51 did resemble a German airplane.

So the bombers protected me all the way home.

Just to show I wasn’t so Sierra Hotel, the next day we headed to Bordeaux area to bomb a manufacturing plant. The weather was socked in so we were about to turn East when I called bandits behind us – I was tail-end charlie. Literally.

I turned into 3 FW 190s. We did a head on pass.

They got me. Oops.

My plane was shot up. And me and my plane parted company.

I free fell for a while  – probably 30,000′ to about 5000′ – and finally pulled my ‘chute.

The FW-190, I was told later, was heading for me and Obie O’Brien, my flight leader, shot him down. His parachute didn’t open.

I grabbed a sapling and rode it to the ground – just like West Virginia. I was wounded so I quickly gathered up my parachute, opened up my kit, put sulfa on the wounds, walked about 5-10 miles from the site and hid.

I slept a little. But still on alert. The Germans were out in force looking for me.

But there ain’t a German in the world can find a West Virginian in the woods.

The next morning, I heard a chopping sound. I snuck up to a woodsman. They said find the poor people – they are the most likely to help you. He was a bit started but immediately started “charades” – he didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak French. I understood him to mean – wait here, he’d be back with some men who spoke English.

He left hurriedly. I moved away from the spot and hid where I had a good vantage point, pointing my gun.

He returned and was a bit concerned: American? Where are you? he whispered.

He was risking his neck too – we both had to be sure.

I came out and they took me to La Rode, a boarding house a few miles away. There, a Russian lady, in bed from a cold, interrogated me. “What? Has America run out of men already? Why are they sending boys?”

Then: “Are you married?”

Me: No, Ma’am. (I’m sure I thought of a few clever answers to her questions, but now was not the time).

Then: “AHA! You have a wedding ring – you are lying!” as she pointed to my right hand.

I replied: That’s my high school ring. In America, we wear our wedding rings on the left hand.” (In Europe on the right hand).

She pondered that. They had Germans trying to infiltrate the Maquis all the time of course. And when you are in the French Underground, you can trust no one. How can you tell whether someone will crack under torture if caught?

She had a young daughter who was there. I remembered her as 5 or 6 but she told me later, she was 14.

She hid me in the barn. Lots of Germans still looking.

Stay tuned for tomorrow.

c. GCYI

General Chuck Yeager’s 90th Birthday w/ Oak Ridge Boys’ 40th

February 16th, 2013 . Posted in Daily Life with Chuck Yeager, Famous People, Friends, Humor, Music, Role model, Traveling | Comments Off on General Chuck Yeager’s 90th Birthday w/ Oak Ridge Boys’ 40th
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

We had just been on a river cruise private birthday party,

Two ol' pals

Before I die I wanna sing with William Lee in a boat where the water meets the sky

hiked to the hotel and then to the celebrity room. Darrick Kinslow, who takes such good care of us, then brought us back to the green room.

The band members each in turn greeted us with hugs, honored to have been invited to the birthday lunch. Unfortunately the boat was not returning to dock until too late for the band to make the afternoon so they ultimately had to decline. Dedicated professionals. I was a little sad about that. I have had the chance over the years to get to know Donny Carr, Rex Wiseman, Jeff Douglas, Chris Golden, and Ron Fairchild a little bit better and sure enjoy talking with them.

I’m looking forward to getting to know the new kid on the block, too. He said : Lotta work learning all the songs. I must admit I’m always impressed the Oaks know so many words to so many songs. Wow.

Backstage, we saw Duane Allen, always a wonderful sight and greeted each other warmly.

Joe Bonsall came around the corner: Did you hear what I just said?

Me: No.

Joe: Got the list and we’re playing most of them – what Victoria wants….but “You’ll Never Walk Alone”? I mean we have not sung that for decades.

Me: I was just checking to see if you read to the bottom of the list. Ha ha. Richard sings “Why Me, Lord” beautifully on the video. And I was trying to be equitable re leads.

Joe: You did a good job!

That’s one of the many reasons I like Joe: so kind and positive. And smart. I think he was checking the pulse of how important some of the songs were to us. I was grateful they sang any, let alone almost all, of our list. Shh! Please don’t tell Joe that :-)

General Yeager was onstage with the Oak Ridge Boys when the curtains opened.

The audience cheered and stood up clapping.

General Chuck Yeager, 90th bday Opens for Oak Ridge Boys, 40th anni tour

Photo by Robert Tarn

General Yeager told a few stories such as when he returned from evading the Germans after being shot down. His fellow pilots wanted to know how he escaped.

Gen Y said: The Germans weren’t allowed in the cathouses so that’s where the French Underground hid me.

The guys all wanted to go on a mission and bail out the next day.

I evaded over the Pyrenees, was interned in Spain at a spa – had to sit around the pool watching the girls in bikinis. Helluva way to fight a war!

The Oak Ridge Boys are my heroes in the music world…..and my friends.

The Boys all thanked him.

He and I found our seats to enjoy the concert.

Some of our favorites: Love Song. I love watching the band moving in sync with their instruments. Love the beat. Love the harmony.

In fact, I had emailed the Colonel asking where she was (since she was not at the concert). I got an email she was on her way. So in a break between songs, I skipped out to wait for her with her tickets. I could hear the Boys and they started in with “Love Song” so I was dancing just outside the doors.

I couldn’t stand it so I slipped just inside to see the action on stage. THAT is worth every penny of the ticket – the Oak Ridge Boys are great, great showmen.

The band was dancing with their instruments in harmony, like synchronized swimming. But without the water, of course.

The music is wonderful but greatly enhanced in the show and then after the show; listening to an Oak Ridge Boys CD brings flooding back vivid memories of the wonderful shows.

I slipped out again at the end of that song just as the Colonel was arriving. We slipped inside again and waited for the break between songs.

Joe Bonsall talked about General Yeager – what an honor to celebrate his 90th birthday with him. Then he said, “General Yeager isn’t here now, but will be tonight so we’re switching our play list. He gave us a play list and when the General asks you to sing a song….you DO it.

Great laughter from the audience. General Yeager called out: That’s right!

I called out: He’s still here!

Joe heard and said: Oh! Well. Turn that paper over; we’re going back to the original list.

Joe: "When the General tells you to do something....you DO it!"

Photo by Tom Caltabiano

William Lee strode to the mike and said: “And we have an Air Force Colonel here, too. “

The audience cheered. General Yeager teased: “My how things have changed!”  (The Colonel is female).

Ol' friends

Photo by Tom Caltabiano

Encouraged by Gen Yeager, William Lee, and me to stand up to be recognized (she’s like General Yeager – she’s just doing her job): The Colonel stood up. Stood up in many ways actually, including saying: And that’s a good thing that things have changed!

Exhibit A. This Colonel.

Of course we all agreed. Notice Gen Yeager’s statement did not have additional commentary that was bad. He admires Col very much.

They met when she was getting him re-current in the F-15E in 2000. I had just known Gen Yeager for 5 months. I came down to Edwards AFB about a week after he did and the day before the air show. When he came to pick me up, he was telling me how great this female pilot was with whom he had spent the week getting current.

I was looking forward to meeting this talented gal. When I did, I wasn’t so sure. Talented, impressive, and very attractive too. And my new best friend had been spending the week with her getting him current in the F-15?

He asked Col to put me in the cockpit and explain it to me. She was very clear, thorough, and knowledgeable, of course.

I asked a question and she replied: That’s a really intelligent question. I haven’t had that one before. Very good.

And then she answered it clearly.

I thought: Yikes. Talented. Smart, Intelligent. Beautiful. Witty. AND diplomatic. I’m in trouble.

Kidding.

Col is one of my favorite people. The Air Force knows it has one talented officer in Col and if we’re lucky they’ll keep promoting her and utilizing her wisely.

Back to the Oak Ridge Boys concert & Gen Yeager’s 90th birthday:

The audience and we were loving the interaction. As our friend Bob said later, that’s what makes live shows great – the organic impromptu events. Delightful!

The audience was loving this extra treat.

I had emailed Joe that Gen Yeager wondered aloud if Joe would sing “G.I. Joe and Lillie”. Joe’s immediate response: It would be my honor.

That always brings tears to my eyes even now when someone like Joe honors General Yeager and so says.

And Joe was true to his word of course. He sang it from the tips of his toes to beyond the top of his head. I don’t think the audience moved; they were so moved and enthralled.

Another great song they sang was “Closer to Home” honoring heroes. My hero is very close to home.

The last picture on the accompanying video is of General Yeager saluting at his retirement in 1975.

"But lately I’ve been findin’ All my heroes...Closer to Home"

Photo by Tom Caltabiano

I noticed some of our guests were watching the Oaks singing so I directed them to look up at the video. One long- time friend, 38 years, (son of good friend no longer with us) looked up and…well, saw him wiping the tears too.

Of course, we all love William Lee singing “Thank God for Kids” with the harmony of Joe, Duane, and Richard. The Oaks haven’t been singing this a lot lately but made an exception for their friend General Yeager.

Being a sailor, but not having done much lately, I love “Sail Away”. Duane Allen has such a perfectly melodic voice to sing it and do it justice. It’s the next best thing to actually sailing.

Gonna Take a Lotta River – what a great song to help wash these blues away. Really rousing.

I love “Before I die”. Everyone has a list of things they’d like to do. I have the big list and the small list. And the list in the song is full of very simple, lovely things that show the right priorities. Can’t envision anyone else singing that song other than William Lee Golden.

William Lee Golden singing

William Lee sings: "B4 I die" - Gen Yeager's 90th birthday

Photo by Tom Caltabiano

I kept looking at General Yeager – a guy who’s done so much and whose attitude to life is just right – might as well enjoy life. Gen Yeager was smiling enjoying William Lee’s singing.

Great birthday listening to the Oak Ridge Boys

Oak Ridge Boys bring joy on Gen Yeager's 90th birthday

Photo by Tom Caltabiano

The Shade Comes Free with the Tree has such a cool beat. People wondered how I had such a good time when I was volunteering a lot and not making a lot of money but traveling around the world having amazing adventures. This song, with such harmony led by Duane Allen, encapsulates why and how.

I think Richard sings even better sitting down. He’s still animated and involved in the song. And he was great singing Lucky Moon. One more chance to make things right. Frankly, when Richard is singing, no one notices much else.

Richard Sterban singing on Gen Yeager's 90th birthday

Photo by Tom Caltabiano

Of course we have the audience participation song: Elvira. Many of our friends were new to an Oak Ridge Boys concert. And Elvira is such an easy enough song to sing parts of the chorus – Oom pah pah maw maw.

I have finally gotten down: Lips like cherry wine” which I sing loudly when it’s our turn. The woman next to me first looked at me stunned and then…..joined in.

I still can’t seem to get the Yes, I am. I seem to keep saying, Yes I can. Ha ha.

Fortunately, Joe has the words down :-)

Elvira. "Lips like Cherry Wine"!

Photo by Tom Caltabiano

As kids, when we were in the car, Mom driving, I’d sing to the radio. My brother would always complain that I was singing the wrong words. He was right. I could never understand a lot of the words. I’d tell him I preferred my words and later I’d say, the singers on the radio didn’t know the words.

I would also ask him what the real ones were. He wouldn’t tell me – then he’d have no excuse to try to get me to stop singing. Or he probably didn’t know the real words either.

(I did become pretty good at writing parodies of songs, though :-)

Heaven Bound is such a great song with which to finish the set. A truly inspiring, motivating song. Even better watching the boys sing it. William Lee was dancing – they all were dancing and frankly are good dancers. It sure makes you want to come back for more.

Which, in fact, we did.

We went to dinner nearby, had a good dinner with our friends. William Lee, Ron Golden, Darrick Kinslow, and some of the band – Rex Wiseman, Ron Fairchild – joined us. The cake was about the heaviest we have all carried (from our friend Jim at home) – a carrot cake full of goodies made with maple syrup.

And then we went straight back to the second show.

We brought many goodie bags – remember those little bags of candy you used to get at kids’ birthday parties? Well we have those too. So we brought one for each of the band and crew and the Boys.

The rest of the very heavy cake was brought over to the green room too. It was deeeelicious.

General Yeager introduced the Oaks again. This time he added the story of the first time he saw a jet.

“The first time I saw a jet….I shot it down.

Actually the first three, at 100 mph faster than the P-51 left me in the dust. But I saw one on final with its gear down so I swept down on his tail and shot him down.

It was un-sportsman-like but what the hell?

My only viable direction was to get low and fly down the runway.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the anti-aircraft guns shooting at me from my right. I was low enough (Gen Yeager mimes ducking as he tells the story :-) that they went 10’ over my canopy………

and into the hangars on the other side, hitting more Me 262s. (Thus, General Yeager should get credit for many more than one Me 262!)

I got the hell, I mean heck, outta there.

I’m lucky to know the Oak Ridge Boys, my heroes in the music world.”

The Oak Ridge Boys stopped Gen Yeager from leaving the stage. Duane Allen presented him with a beautiful plaque. This was the first they were handing out to special people on the Oak Ridge Boys 40th Anniversary Tour to General Chuck Yeager on his 90th birthday.

Chuck Yeager & Oak Ridge Boys celebrate. His 90th, their 40th.

Hugs, handshakes, thanks all around.

William Lee walked over with Gen Yeager to Richard Sterban, in his chair, with his foot on a raised stool from his accident. General Yeager thanked Richard, too. Then he grabbed the mike and said: “I told Richard to quit chasing girls!” indicating that’s how Richard hurt his foot. And a much better story.

The audience loved it all.

Gen Yeager and I went backstage, out and around to our seats to watch the show.

It had very few duplicates from the afternoon – maybe two.

One was Richard’s Lucky Moon – even better than the matinee.

And then the glorious moment of Gen Yeager’s favorite: “It Takes A Little Rain”.

Duane Allen. Divine. Impassioned. Truth.

The harmony was magnificent.

The audience was so very moved. Very. General Yeager was so grateful, so appreciative that Duane Allen and the Oaks never seem to tire of singing this very special song for him.

No Matter How High I Get (I’ll Always Look up to You). You’ll always be number one, I’ll settle for number two.

What a great song, no? Duane leading the Oaks in such a loving, faithful, honorable song. I’m sure you ‘all can understand why this is one of my faves. General Yeager’s too.

I think Duane introduced this as a great Valentine’s Day song: Make My Life With You. Talk about great harmony.

Yup.

The Oaks sang a Gospel song – many thought it was really their best – suited their voices and harmony.

I realized General Yeager’s favorite songs generally have the best harmony – where you can hear each voice, and each blends well with the others. I love listening for Richard’s, who isn’t leading a lot, not always obvious.

Fantastic.

General Yeager said: I think the Oak Ridge Boys enjoyed the concerts as much as we did. I think so too.

I was watching Joe Bonsall dancing, tapping his heel to the beat. And William Lee doing some high kicks – okay, high for me.

Again, Elvira. I still missed Yes I can. Slow learner. Fortunately Joe who was singing it, didn’t :-)

And of course, the Oaks finished with Bubba buh bubba buh Bobbie Sue. I love watching the video trying to figure out the moves so I can do them later. I used to look that cute :-)

Great dancing song.

We vamoosed at the end before too many people could crowd General Yeager. Wish we could say hello to all individually – but it was a BIG audience.

I gathered our group and we all went backstage.

The Oaks were very gracious to each of our group – many of whom were newbies to the Oaks concerts, and now great fans.

I finally met Donna, Richard Sterban’s wife. We had been missing each other at concerts.

She is one terrific gal. Wow! My esteem of Richard went way up (if it could) after I met her. That he picked her, and frankly, that she picked him.

She wanted a photo of her with Gen Y and Richard. So her taste is truly good :-)

Gen Yeager and I headed to bed dancing and singing. It took me hours to fall asleep after all the fun and excitement.

As Gen Y said: You won’t believe it. In fact, I don’t believe it myself, but I’m turning 90.

If one is turning 90, (or any age) I can’t imagine a better way to do it then to take a riverboat cruise with friends and cake, then go to not one, but two Oak Ridge Boys concerts with some more birthday cake imbetween.

c. GCYI

PLIEZ LES GENOUX – SKIING IN SWITZERLAND

January 31st, 2013 . Posted in Friends, Traveling | Comments Off on PLIEZ LES GENOUX – SKIING IN SWITZERLAND
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I always seem to have no idea what is going on.

Fortunately I sometimes luck out and have friends who do.

While I was spending my junior year abroad, there was a two week break in February. My French friends invited me skiing with their English friends to Saas Fe in Switzerland.

I had started out a great skier at about age 5. But my family is not very athletic – my mother looked at me one day and said, “Where did you come from?” She was always the last person picked on a team – hurt her feelings, she said. I was usually one of the first as a kid.

My earliest memory was skiing down the little slope and some big guy falling in front of me. I’m sure I shut my eyes but Mom said I just did a spread eagle and went somehow around him.

I wasn’t the strongest in my arms so that ski tow – it was a rope you had to hang onto -was beyond me. But the instructor just gathered me up and gave me a bit of a push as he held onto me in front of him and held onto my hands on the rope. That was fun! Perhaps more fun than skiing down.

The next time I remember going skiing, I went with a group of friends – I was about 15 – in the Poconos.

They were all pretty good.

I, however, was not.

One of the guys graciously agreed to ski behind me so when I fell he could pick me up. That was beyond me, too.

It was either that time or another time. I was getting the hang of those chairs. But getting off – always exciting.

Although I had warned her, my best friend at the time lost her sense of humor when I fell taking her out with me. Neither of us were hurt except her ego.

She regained her sense of humor….eventually. After she gave me better instructions.

And then. Switzerland. Sooooo much nicer than the Poconos. So much harder, longer, steeper. Yikes.

The first morning the gals made sure I had the right equipment and rental skis. Gosh. THAT’s a production. Carrying all that gear, walking in those boots – I needed a Sherpa.

We gathered for the instructors to put us in groups of relative ability for the week.

They told each of us to ski down and stop.

At the bottom were the instructors.

My friends tried to send me first. I said no, I had to learn from them.

They skied down, stopped like they had down this before.

I pushed myself down and did a snowplow skid to the flat where I stopped.

The one instructor sent my friends to the left and me to the right.

Not wanting to be separated, I asked: Why are you putting me over here?

As only the Swiss can, he was blunt: Because you’re not as good as they are.

However, there was no English-speaking group. Almost all were German speaking groups. I don’t speak any German. Except little words from cruise ships with German crews: eingang (entrance), ausgang (exit), bitte (please or welcome), danke (thank you)

And one French group. I had learned a little French in school although it was hard in Paris – everyone spoke English and snorted at my attempts at French.

After much conferring though, the instructors decided to stick me with my French friends  in the French speaking group, all of whom except me were pretty good skiers. We were in group level 4 our of 6.

The catch – 6 was the most experienced.

Oops.

Well this will be…..entertaining.

We rode the chair up. This time, I got off without taking anyone out. My friend’s pointers had taken. Phew. Or I was lucky. Hoped that luck held for the week.

The instructor had us ski two turns and then turn back toward the middle and stop.

Everyone followed him. I followed and went a little past the line unable to stop, sat down to stop, while sitting turned around and stood up.

The second time I did this, the guide looked through the line and said, “Victoria! What are yew dewing?”

Me: I’m busy. Don’t mind me (as I stood up).

I didn’t slow anyone down as long as he didn’t ask me what I was dewing.

We stopped for lunch on the mountain sitting outside. Some people had Gluvein (no idea how to spell it – but it’s wine with fruit in it – delicious). I only took a sip though – I needed not to be too flexible and definitely to have some wits about me.

Towards the end of the day, everyone but me was at the bottom of the one piste. The guide looked up and yelled, yet again: Victoria! What are yew dewing? Come down here right now!

Okay.

And I did.

I skied down on my skis, my derriere, and other parts. I watched as they all had growing looks of horror and that deer caught in headlights as it looked like I was going to do a strike and take them all out like bowling pins – the only strike I’d get that year.

Something of the lessons of the day must have taken hold as I was able to stop standing up, just in front of all of them just as if I knew what I was doing.

Except I had brought half the mountain of snow with me and covered all of them with it.

I’ll never forget the looks on their faces. Just not sure what to think.

We continued with the lessons. I have to say I got the most improved award. I usually do. Because no one else can start out that bad – one has to get a lot better….Or croak.

When we got to the bottom and finished for the day, our instructor said he was going to find a beginner group for me.

I boldly and guilelessly said, Please give me another day. I’ll be fine.

Frankly, I didn’t want to have to indoctrinate another instructor.

The instructor looked at me, sizing me up, if he were American he’d be sizing up his liability, Instead, I think he decided at least I was entertaining.

We had a fun dinner but I sure slept well that night.

The next day, I was probably graduating to the top half of the group.

He did all sorts of things like put your hat between your ankles and hold onto it.  Fortunately someone was behind me because my ankles just don’t go together. I got my hat back.

He also had us ski down, lay back down, still skiing and stand back up. I tried it. Okay. Can do. Not the most comfortable.

This instructor was good. He gradually took us down more and more difficult pistes.

I basically learned how to get down a slope (other than a jump) maybe sideways but get down safely and standing.

One of the last days, we went to almost the top (bowl was closed) early. FRESH POWDER! WHAT a TREAT!

Now I know the joy of skiing. It was perfect – 2 inches of light powder. Beautiful sunny day.

The instructor had me follow next in line to him. A little bit of a challenge in that I tended to slow down a little more and had a bunch of people behind me. But following his tracks somewhat made me bolder. He knew this. (I still made my own tracks with his as a guide).

At one point, everyone had overtaken me, he yodeled up the mountain at me with all the echos: VEEEEEC TOOOOOR EE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Pliiiiii-eeeeeez les geeeee —-nouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuux!

I asked my French friend in English: What did he say?

She yelled: He said, “Pliez les genoux!”

It’s a good thing this was not an emergency –

I yelled back: I heard that – what does it mean?

FF: Bend your knees.

Ah. The penny dropped. All those years of ballet and doing pliez’s. They were just saying bend. (Bend the knees in fact).

Why am I always the last to know? or to figure these things out?

I tried pliez-ing my genoux – they don’t bend in those ski boots very well but I tried. I learned later, my idea of bending my knees was more sticking out my derriere. But the best instructors know that some people just don’t bend certain ways.

We floated down this huge, steep-ish bowl of light powder with a clear blue sky.

Glorious.

We were there for Valentine’s Day and one of the French girls, Mireille, wrote a Valentine’s card making it appear that the instructor had sent it. Pretty funny.

We went ice skating that night. We met the instructor’s family – cute kids, nice wife. That’s right: ski instructors are people too.

I stayed an extra couple of days since school didn’t start up again for a week.

The last day of skiing there I was on my own. I realized I really had been doing some great expert slopes but following a great instructor. On my own I thought: Oh boy. I have to get down.

So I heard the instructor in my head: VEEEEEEC-TOOOOOOOORRRRRR-EEEEEE-AAAAAAAH and pliez-ed my genoux as I took long wide traverses.

Great day. The mountain to myself. For a couple of hours.

What a glorious time.

The next day, I was exhausted, and it was dark and gloomy so I stayed in the village and took a break from skiing.

I learned later that it was the first day the bowl was open and that it was sunny above the dark and gloom. Maybe a metaphor for life.

I considered staying another day but was advised that the bowl would probably not be open the next day, or if it was, it had been crowded and not the greatest skiing the day before.

Time to go home. To Paris. With new memories of another great adventure and new skill learned along with some more French.

c. GCYI

All Saints’ Day in Paris, France around 1992

January 19th, 2013 . Posted in Adventures in food, Food, Fresh vegetables, Historical, Traveling | Comments Off on All Saints’ Day in Paris, France around 1992
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I had wanted to dine at this restaurant for years. A bit expensive so I had to save up my pennies.

I love walking through Paris. So I dressed well, put on my sneakers, and put my good shoes in my backpack and headed off early.

I walked from the 17th down to the 4th arrondissement. It was November 1; All Saints’ Day. France is still fairly Catholic so it is a holiday and the museums are free.

Ile de Saint Louis was closed to automobile traffic.

I was on the last stretch when I heard two American women, clearly headed in the same direction, gossiping loudly about not much as they hurried along in a New York City kind of way catching up to me.

I smiled at them as they passed me, ignoring me, about walking right over me.

Really. I decided to pass them – I can do the New York hustle walk as well as anyone – I’ve lived there. I smiled at them and was about to say hello, we must be headed to the same place, but they acted as if I didn’t exist so I decided I didn’t need to bother.

I knocked on the door. A gentleman answered, looked at me down his long Aquiline snooty nose, at my backpack, then down to my sneakers, let the other ladies in with great relief, and was about to close the door one me when I smiled and said, “J’ai une reservation.” (“I have a reservation.”)

He hesitated, looked again at my shoes, my outfit – perfectly respectable outfit, a suit – and back at my face…

After torturing him, letting him have to think a little, I added, “Ne t’inquietes pas. J’ai mes bonnes chaussures dans mon sac.” “Don’t worry. I have my good shoes in my pack.”

He still was dubious but opened the door.

He occupied himself with the others whom he clearly thought had class while he wavered about what to do with me. I started to sit down to change my shoes when he about had a heart attack and said, “NO MADAM!” and pointed to a window seat out of the way in the corner in the dark.

A little annoyed, but keeping my eye on the ball – lunching upstairs, I humored him.

Seeing me quietly in the time-out corner, he escorted these other ladies with the good sense to walk in Paris in high heels to the elevator.

Having changed into my very chic, lunching at the Ritz, I mean Tour D’Argent, shoes, I started to head to the elevator to go up to the restaurant when the doorman took my backpack to check it. Couldn’t possibly have that in the fine dining area. Quel faux pas!

I took the elevator to the restaurant. The Maitre D’ had not seen me in my sneaks or backpack so wasn’t as concerned…..yet!

However, he was worried about an American woman dining alone so he put me out of the mainstream but at a window seat – in fact the best seat in the house for views outside. I had a beautiful view of Notre Dame, the festivities of All Saints’ Day and the Seine.

A waiter brought the menu. I realized as I looked at the price of the set menu that I had left my travelers’ checks in my back pack. I wondered if they took them. They must. Did I have enough French cash….

I gave my order.

Would Madam like some wine? A half carafe? House wine?

I went for broke. Almost literally. I figured I might as well experience all of it. I tried to quickly mentally add up the French money I had in my pocket, praying there was enough. “Yes,” I answered.

“And some Perrier, please.” Oh boy.

I decided not to bother worrying – worrying wouldn’t change the negotiation at the end of the meal.

So far the wait staff was acting a little less apprehensive.

However, still worried that I was alone, they brought me a book to peruse. It was a book of fine dining around the world. It increased my hunger.

Little did they know that I love eating fine food alone. I want to savor it, enjoy it, not worry about being scintillating in conversation while my food gets cold. That’s one thing Gen Yeager and I have in common – we don’t worry about conversation when we are actually eating our meal. Between dishes, sure, but not usually between bites.

I also was fine, more than fine, just gazing out at Notre Dame – what a beautiful day.

The service was pristine. I enjoyed the artful food and partook of the wine (partook? sipped, more likely).

I noticed the waiters becoming more and more attentive and respectful. I brought my attention back into the restaurant and noticed that the two American women and a few others were very boisterous, hardly fitting the environment and not as elegant as their dress. Ha ha.

I dined slowly. I wanted to savor the experience, make my money last a long time. Or put off the issue of getting my travelers’ checks, hoping they take them.

I surreptiously studied the customers. I determined none were regulars. The couple nearest me were looking around thrilled to be there, not sure what to order, or what to do.

The American women and their group were getting louder and determined to be the definition of the loud, uncouth American. But well-dressed so they deemed themselves okay.

Some were clearly French, and Parisian French in particular, eating, talking, arguing, debating as only the Parisians can.

After much deliberation, there were many delicious as described desserts. I chose the Grand Marnier souffle.

For some reason, I determined I was going to finish the large bottle of Perrier and the half carafe of wine. I refused to waste any.

The Grand Marnier souffle was soup. I tried two bites and gave up.

I gently put the spoon down, and looked up for a waiter.

Within a minute or less, one was walking at the other end of the room. He glanced my way. I locked eyes, raised my eyebrows and he rushed right over.

I nodded toward the souffle and courteously told him it was soup in my magnificent French: C’est soupe. Whether he understood my words or not, he could see what I meant. He whisked it away.

On retrospect, at that point, I should have said I did not want to try again with the souffle and should have ordered the other dessert. I had tasted the Grand Marnier souffle, er, I mean soup :-) so a chance to taste the other….but I wasn’t quick enough.

They brought a Grand Marnier souffle this time. Much better than the Grand Marnier soup.

After I finished the souffle, they brought a three tier dish with bite-size petit fours and chocolate miniature desserts.

Well, if I had a known, I wouldn’t have ordered the souffle or soup.

It was going to be a long lovely afternoon. I figured I’d probably miss the free admission to the museum. Ah well.

I sipped my wine, realized I’d not only have to stay longer to finish off the petit fours, I’d need to stay longer so I could finish the wine and be able to stand up and leave.

What could be better? Delicious sweets. Delicious wine. A view of Ile Saint Louis and the Seine. The spires of Notre Dame with their gargoyles.

Waiters now realizing that sneakers don’t define class or lack thereof.

They brought some delicious coffee, too.

I tasted everything first before I circled back to the best ones. Then I had a moment’s thought that maybe they weren’t all for me, that this was the restaurant’s community tiered sweet tray. Oops.

As I was finishing the last tasty bites, l’addition, the bill, appeared.

OK. Think I’ll just keep sipping that wine.

I opened the bill, got out my purse, and literally counted the last centime. I had….exact change. No kidding. The exact change to the last centime. Phew. There would be no embarrassing moment saying do you take travelers’ checks. Oh, and by the way, they are downstairs in my backpack. No really. Oh, I have to go to the bank, which is closed on All Saints’ Day to get them changed……dishes?

Phew. OK Double Phew.

I now really enjoyed the last sips of my wine which I did finish. I think I had been there for over 2 hours, maybe three.

I gathered myself, checked to see if standing was working and floated to the elevator. I was escorted by the waiters who had decided I was elegant and the classiest customer.

I noticed, they did take travelers’ checks….at a ridiculous exchange rate.

I arrived at the ground floor, headed to the cloakroom, was greeted enthusiastically this time by the doorman – word travels fast. He helped me retrieve my back pack.

A I  looked around to sit down to change back into my pumpkin/sneakers, I suddenly noticed that the chair in which I had been about to sit at the start of this adventure, had a sign I hadn’t noticed earlier. It said that this chair was Louis XIV and dated from the 17th Century.

Well, no wonder the doorman was apoplectic when I was trying to lower myself into it earlier. I noticed it now had a rope across it.

I went back to my window seat, changed into my sneakers, said a Merci, as the door was graciously held open, and stepped out onto the street.

I think I changed some French minds: don’t judge American gals by their  footwear. Those sneakers gals just might have a pair of classy heels in their backpack & know how to behave with elegance and grace in a 4 star restaurant. Just let her know the chair is over 300 years old!

I floated to Ile Saint Louis to watch the clowns, the jugglers, the stilt walkers – I mean 10 foot high stilts – from the ground vantage point.

And when I’d had my fill, I went inside Notre Dame to hear the sermon, the priest chanting and the music. There is something ethereal in listening to music and chanting in Latin in those wonderful, old cathedrals. The height of the spires and dome causes the music to float aloft truly giving the presence of other worldliness and spiritual guidance.

Magnificent. All Saints’ Day was heavenly. My idea, at the time, of a perfect day.

c. GCYI

Guest Post: My Greatest Day in the Air Force (working for Gen Yeager) by (A2C) Robert Jolicoeur

December 28th, 2012 . Posted in Aviation, Daily Life with Chuck Yeager, Flying with Chuck Yeager, Historical, Role model | Comments Off on Guest Post: My Greatest Day in the Air Force (working for Gen Yeager) by (A2C) Robert Jolicoeur
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
We received a nice email from someone who had worked for General Yeager. I asked for some stories re General Yeager and this is what he sent:
My Air Force career began in August. I attended basic training at Sampson Air Force Base and was assigned Flight 4587, 3651st Training Squadron.
After basic I was assigned to Amarillo Air Force Base, Texas for training as a single engine jet
aircraft mechanic (43151C) for approximately six months.
After completion of this training I was ordered to Hahn, Germany for assignment with the 50 th Fighter Bomber Wing, 50th Fighter Bomber Group, and 417th Fighter Bomber Squadron.
Upon landing in Paris, France (an experience in itself) I was told the 50th Wing had relocated to Toul-Rosieres, France, hence I was assigned to Toul.
My first day there was one of the greatest days of my life!!! Lo and behold, standing within five feet of me was (at the time) Lt. Col. Charles (Chuck) E. Yeager!!! After military procedures he introduced himself as Squadron Commander and I was totality out of it to say the least.
Soon, there I was, eighteen years old, no parents around, in France with an F86H that has my name painted along the canopy and Lt.Col. Charles Yeager is the Squadron Commander. What more could you ask for??
To this day I find my service in the Air Force to be just like “Yesterday” and always close to my heart.
(A2C) Robert Jolicoeur
Member #4381
Aug-Nov. 55
c. GCYI

Huntin’ elk – my first! 2009

December 23rd, 2012 . Posted in Conservation, Daily Life with Chuck Yeager, Food, Huntin', Uncategorized | Comments Off on Huntin’ elk – my first! 2009
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

  • I shot my first elk. Well I killed my first elk. No, “shot” is correct- I shot AT several last year. Often several shots at one or two but completely missed- see my blog of Oct 08.

    In the morning, Gen Yeager, our guide Berry, and I drove around looking for them. And we came upon a group. Gen Yeager set up to shoot one – realized it was a spike and shifted to shoot the cow (female elk). KABOOM!  The elk was hit perfectly and blown over. Perfect shot.

    I took the gun and set up to shoot another one, but by the time I had reloaded and set up, they were jogging away from us and the only good shot was of a bull. So this one will go in my book The Shot(s) I Didn’t Take.

    We drove and walked out to the dead elk. I said a silent prayer and I took photos. Our guide gutted her, attached her to the hoist, and loaded her onto the truck. Just a few years ago I couldn’t watch the gutting.

    The first time I went huntin’, Gen Yeager was afraid I’d lose my cookies all over his elk so he said: “Victoria, come look at the view over here. “ It was beautiful – much better than looking at the elk being gutted.

    I never liked to cook because even a piece of filet mignon and especially a chicken looked and/or reminded me too much of the live animal.

    In advanced biology in the college prep school I attended, we had to dissect animals, even the frogs grossed me out – maybe the smell of formaldehyde increased the nausea. We also had to inject chickens with different hormones to see what effect the excess hormones had. Since the advance biology class did this every year, we already knew. Fortunately we had one in our class determined to be a doctor and a little too sadistic for my tastes, but she enthusiastically asked each of us when it was our turn if she could do the shots for us. It also smelled pretty bad in that enclosed space where the chickens were kept. Our teacher NEVER went back there so she never knew. I think all eventually thought it was cruel, quit the shots, and just used the results from the prior year.

    When I was a candy striper, they had to send me to the lunchroom for some water, because looking at all the tubes going in and out of the babies or patients was also too much for me. I would have loved to have been a doctor but a doctor fainting while giving a shot….NOT good.

    So it has taken about 8 years for me to watch the gutting. I am not anti-hunting – we eat what we shoot.

    So we took the elk to the butcher. Our guide helped skin it. All fascinating. I still stepped back because the idea of blood splattered on me….

    We had lunch and went for a walk, relaxed and went out at 3pm. After driving a bit…it is sooooo beautiful here…Berry spotted some elk. He watched them for a bit.

    He grabbed his binoculars, some sticks for a rest, and told me to follow him. He spotted some more and told me we were going to sneak down the trees (small brush) and would have to hightail it across an open patch to the other side. After, making our way down the steep hill through the rocks, he grabbed my gun and we hightailed it – me directly behind him. I had earplugs in ready to shoot – so my steps sounded like elephants to me. I wondered if the ground was shaking and if the elk could feel it, let alone hear it, the mile away. I also was breathing a little heavy – we were at altitude. I was glad for the exercise given the excellent and plentiful meals we were having.

    We crossed a creek – jumping it best we could. Berry had jumped, then he handed me the sticks so that when I leaped, he could pull me with the sticks so I didn’t fall backwards – since I could only make it to the very edge which sloped back down into the creek. We ran across some more open ground that was a little boggy, then solid ground. We came to another creek which Berry, gathering up all his stuff (binocs, sticks, my gun, and his earmuffs) and rocking to get the most energy (no running leaps – too much brush behind us), he jumped the creek.

    It was a bit far for me so I found another spot with some stalks on the other side – I leaped, got barely to the other side and those stalks saved me from falling back as I grabbed them and balanced myself. This time I did get some water in my shoe but didn’t mention it – it wasn’t cold and wasn’t going to hurt me. My shoe is waterproof but the water got over the top – the place I landed wasn’t quit as dry as it looked.

    We scooted up the rocky hill to some brush. No elk. All that…Sigh. Good exercise though!

    He spotted and turned around 130 degrees, gave me my gun, and started spotting. I saw the bull elk running 90 degrees to us – away from us. Oh well. Back to the truck and look for more.

    Berry said: There’s some elk on the road and they’re coming towards us – we’ll just wait.

    He grabbed my gun and showed me to hold it down – because the light was glinting off it.

    I looked at the road from which we’d come and didn’t see any elk. I finally looked through the tree where I thought he was looking. Couldn’t see any.

    Berry: She’s trying to jump the fence.

    I peered around…and saw her! I kept wondering if Berry thought she was close enough because he had the sticks set up – for his binocs…and they were a bit high…

    We snuck a little closer to the next bush/tree. And waited.

    I saw a bull and two very young cows. They looked close enough….hmmm. But I can’t judge distances well. I just waited to get my next instruction from Berry. I also saw a few others grazing much farther away. They would walk towards us, walk away, walk towards us. Still too far away to shoot.

    We snuck up to the next bush. And waited.

    Berry: We’re going to get up to that cedar bush and shoot from there. Don’t worry about the bull and two young cows, they may spook. And don’t worry about the ones to our left – they may spook too. There are some just over that hill and hopefully they won’t go far.

    We snuck up to the cedar bush – I went to Berry’s left. He said: No on my right.

    I did. He put the sticks up – told me to sit – not my favorite for shooting but okay. He said move out from behind the bush. I didn’t want to – I didn’t want her to see me and run…

    He moved me out a little – I resisted gently – he then realized we may be having a communication issue (one of the reasons he such a good guide): Make sure you are out far enough for a clear shot.

    Me: Okay (and I didn’t move – I had a clear shot).

    Berry: Do you have a clear shot?

    Me: Yes (as I moved a rock out from under me)

    He surveyed me and the elk – I kept fidgeting. He then whispered: Sticks too high?

    Me: Yes.

    He put them lower and said: Now take your time, don’t shoot until you’re ready. Undo the safety and when you’re ready, just squeeze the trigger.

    I undid the safety making sure I kept my finger away from the trigger, aimed, held it to make sure I was steady, and shot – thwack! – and looked. The elk ran a few steps – and three cows, including the one at which I shot, stopped.

    Me: Dang! I missed it!

    Berry: It’s okay…

    As we watched, (I don’t know how he knew so early): She’s hit!

    Because she didn’t go down, I was afraid she was wounded and that is the biggest aversion I have to hunting – I just didn’t want to wound an animal – I wanted to kill it instantly.

    I whispered: Shoot her again, Berry!

    He whispered calmly: No, you can do it.

    So being as I had to do it, it was on me to put her out of any misery, I gathered my wits and remembered to eject the shell and load a new one. I aimed but as I was doing all this, I saw the elk moved to the left, turned and moved back to the right, fall down, try to get up, got her hind quarters up but couldn’t quite get her front up.

    She went down. We waited. I was readying to shoot her again – out of her misery, when we saw the legs kicking straight up in the air. She was dead.

    We gathered up our stuff and headed towards her. I waved at where we had left the truck and Gen Yeager, a victory sign before we went out of sight down the hill. We walked down the hill and looked for the narrowest place to cross the creek. I dragged my back foot enough for some water to go over the top but who cares, we were busy… We walked up the hill and over to the elk.

    Berry examined her: Perfect shot. Classic textbook.

    Me: GREAT! I was relieved – it was the best shot to kill the elk and the least amount of suffering. I had a big grin, Berry had a big grin…he shook my hand.

    He laid everything on the elk and said: I’ll go get the truck but it may take half an hour to find a way back here with the truck – are you okay?

    Me: Sure.

    Me and my elk. I did a little prayer by her head. The sun was setting and I got to thinking. I’m here with good meat; I better hold the gun in case a predator wants it and me. Then I got to thinking when I saw the truck and then saw it disappear and thought I heard it was stuck, what would I do if they didn’t come pick me up.

    I’d walk to where I last saw them. I’d go to one of the roads with the gun and try to head back to the headquarters. I had no survival stuff on me. And my heavy coat was in the truck as was my cel phone and my energy bars. Hmmmm. I wasn’t worried but exercises like this make one prepared for the times one may need to be prepared. I could keep warm by opening up the elk which I have read about…but all I had was my little, tiny, pen knife. Hmmm.

    I was enjoying my first elk, the wilderness, the aloneness. Nice.

    The truck came in sight. General Yeager leaped out of the truck (it requires a leap – it is very high off the ground) and gave me a big hug and a kiss. He was proud of me. We took photos. Berry gutted it. I wanted to go back and get my spent shell. Gen Yeager said: I have plenty.

    Me: This is my first!

    Berry said he’d go get it when he was finished guttin’.

    While he was gutting my elk, I made my way back to the spot from which I had shot. I followed the big elk track across the creek – they know where the most narrow spot is!

    I remembered that Berry couldn’t have taken that second shot without grabbing my gun – he had left his gun in the truck when we started stalking. I couldn’t find the shell. But where it might have popped out was a couple of holes. I looked in them as best I could – didn’t put my hand down there – might be an animal that bites – and had no digging tool…I was a little disappointed I had not thought to grab it when I ejected it – as if I could remember that with all the excitement of possibly needing a second shot..And I was disappointed I hadn’t looked for it (and really asked Berry to look for it) as we were gathering up our stuff.

    Hmmmm. Just in case, I called to Berry – was it this bush?

    No,  over there.

    I looked around the bush…then back a little. There it was – I didn’t realized we were back that much from the bush.

    I picked up the spent shell. And a few pretty rocks – pink, yellow – while I was at it :-).

    I retraced my steps – this time putting some small branches across the creek – and got back in time to watch Berry hoisting my elk onto the truck.

    Gen Yeager: We’ll frame one of the pictures with the shell in a shadow box.

    Very cool. Very creative and thoughtful.

    Gen Yeager then said: “I could see you’all from the ridge. I saw the elk heading one way and another.
    Then they’d eat a little grass and move another way. They knew something was up. I watched you and them. Then I saw the bull and two young cows and wondered why you were sneaking the other direction. Then I couldn’t see you. I heard the shot but neither of the two young cows were hit so I thought ah well, she missed. Too bad.

    Then I saw your hat going down the hill.”

    Berry said: I thought you’d missed at first because I saw the dirt fly up behind her.

    It’s funny. All three of us thought I’d missed the elk. For different reasons.

    We drove back to the main house. Berry took the elk and skinned it while we put our stuff away to get ready for dinner.

    Everyone was excited for me – they had all been there the year before.

    A classic textbook shot. Woo hoo!

    c. GCYI

Having fun with General Chuck Yeager & the Oak Ridge Boys

December 16th, 2012 . Posted in Daily Life with Chuck Yeager, Famous People, Friends, Humor, Public Appearance, Traveling | Comments Off on Having fun with General Chuck Yeager & the Oak Ridge Boys
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Italian restaurant was a big hangout for the ORBs in the ol’ days. We looked at some of the pictures on the wall – lots of old stars. And of course, the contrarian Richard Sterban. 25 years before in the photo, when all the Boys had long hair, Richard’s hair was much shorter and gorgeous really.

Now all the Boys hair is shorter (except William Lee – he’s in a style all his own) and Richard’s is long.

On the way to the restaurant, we had checked out some pawn shops. One had some interesting World War II artifacts including a map of the planned invasion of Iwo Jima.

We left the pawn shop and got a tour of what the strip used to be like. That used to be the Sands….and that used to be Landmark…and that used to be…

I remember paying $10 for a room in a nice casino 20 years before when they enticed people to come with low prices and then took their money in the casino. And the food was affordable. Now….wow!

We had dinner with some of the ORB (Oak Ridge Boys) band. Nice to spend some time and get to know each other. General Yeager regaled us with stories and explaining some of the current aviation inventory.

We went back to the hotel, to our double decker room, and rested till the show.

At 9:15pm, we headed to the green room.

When Chris Golden came in, Gen Y said: Do you usually have a glass cage around you?

Chris understood immediately: A bit too loud? Usually we have a cage in bigger venues but these aren’t my drums.

Me: You’re quick! :-)

When Joe walked in, Gen Yeager said: You wearing the same shirt as last night?

Joe, mock taken aback, smiled: General, I have two of the same.

Gen Y: Well if you wear your coat (blazer), it’ll look okay.

Joe: I’ll try but it gets so hot!

Gen Y: All right then.

After visiting with a few others, Gen Y asked me: Do you think Duane will sing It Takes a Little Rain again?

Me: I’ll see.

I found and asked Duane. He looked thrilled – glad we had clearly liked it so much and wanted to hear it again.

He answered: You have to ask Joe, he does the set list. We put in a different song to honor Gen Yeager. But you have to ask Joe.

I went over to Joe who said they were going to sing another song in honor of Gen Yeager.

I just couldn’t remember it by the title so I asked: Could you sing the first few phrases, I just can’t…?

Joe sang a little, stopped when he saw me nod slightly.

I was mesmerized by his melodic, wonderful voice. I often love singing far better without amplification and other instruments.

I suddenly noticed Joe was looking at me funny. Which frankly he does a lot. :-)

I quickly realized it wasn’t the garlic from dinner either: I was still entranced a full minute after Joe had stopped singing. That Boy can sing! (But we knew that).

I came to and said, I like both of course. I think he’d still prefer It Takes a Little Rain…..

Joe jumped in and they changed the songs.

Duane was pleased, too. He shared some wonderful personal stories with me. Each time we see the Boys, we get to know each other just a little better. Duane then expressed how much their friendship with the General means to them. And that means a lot to me.

Gen Yeager went backstage, was introduced by DK, and walked out again to a standing ovation.

He told another story and introduced the boys, the most patriotic group, great friends who reminded him of the great Quartets of his youth.

The boys came on stage, greeted the Gen and as the General left the stage, the singing exploded.

Another wonderful show – I don’t know how they do it – starting at 10pm!

Joe mentioned that Gen Yeager had asked him about wearing the same shirt and to wear the blazer over it. The audience loved it.

After a couple of songs, Joe disappeared offstage. He returned sans blazer. The audience noticed and laughed. Joe mimed; sorry, it’s HOT!

Gen Yeager waved a playful scolding finger at him.

When Joe introduced Chris Golden, Chris stood up and said: The General said I was playing too loudly last night, drowning you guys out, so I’ve been trying to hold back tonight!

Gen Yeager waved a thumbs up.

In another song, William Lee did some clogging and a shuffle ball change (term in tap dancing) perfectly to the end of the song. If you have never seen William Lee do some clogging, you have got to go see the next ORB’s concert. Run, don’t walk. It is so FUN!

Joe introduced Gen Yeager’s favorite song and Duane stepped up to the mike. And sang beautifully.

Again, one of my favorites – Duane sings from the bottom of his soul and you can hear all the parts so distinctly.

I looked at General – so happy. Which made me even more happy.

“When the sun always shines, there’s a desert below.

It Takes a Little Rain To Make Love Grow.”

The audience was enthralled. Enchanting.

Once everyone re-grouped, the Boys sang a few Christmas songs.

“Santa’s riding shotgun, Rudolph’s in the middle” – now that’s just funny. And the music is upbeat too.

Richard of course singing beautifully again.

And of course, Elvira has the audience jumping out of their seats to dance in front of the stage. A few tried to get me to join but I preferred to enjoy the show with Gen Yeager.

As Elvira was finishing, the Boys jumped into Bubba b….Bobbie Sue. We decided to make our way backstage to not get caught.

As we entered backstage, I asked if Gen Yeager wanted to go on stage. Given the interaction going on with the audience dancing in front…

DK brought him on stage. The boys embraced him and did a group pose while singing. Outstanding. Wish I had a picture of that from the front.

The audience loved it.

What a personal, personable show.

As they walked off, I skidaddled to the other side of the stage to meet them.

Each of the Guys expressed their appreciation that General Yeager had come. Very nice.

We visited a little. Then we met Dina Martin, Dean Martin’s daughter, and her husband.

Dina had met Gen Yeager many years before. Gen Yeager had been on the accident board when her brother had had a plane accident. And Dean Martin had personally called Gen Yeager to ask him what happened. They had talked for a long time.

This night, though, Dina was thrilled to see Gen Yeager. We took photos together.

Dina is a singer and incredibly beautiful and in shape. Wow. Her husband was gracious and fun too.

We then headed to bed….walking on air, singing joyfully as we always do after a night with the Boys.

c. GCYI

« Older Entries
Newer Entries »