Our AFN "excursions"

AFN guys on excursions.....

The jazz club:

 In downtown Frankfurt.  Hard to find...no signs...a walk-down into place. Free admission for any AFN dudes and very exclusive and expensive.  Great jazz artists always there and a lot of the smug sons former Nazi bigwigs, I’m sure.

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The “hooker”: 

5 or 6 AFN guys in a car driving to Wiesbaden...big US Air Force base (still is)...picked up a girl standing on a corner looked to be turning tricks.

She surprised us...admitting she was Air Force and working on the side for bucks.  We each gave her some script (dollars forbidden for our use) and dropped her off at the base.  Nobody got laid.  It wouldn’t seem right. 

On board for this little excursion probably were Ray (he was AF and from that base)  Nick maybe( but not sure.) some others I can’t remember.

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Beef Fondue:  

Best restaurant ever in a small Frankfurt suburb just ten table...reservations weeks ahead.  We only went there when one of us was shipping back to the states.  These were like “farewell” dinners and they were they great!  The tender cuts of the best filet cooked with long forks into boiling oil and then dipped into various fantastic sauces devised by the chef who owned the place.  

But what I loved best were his french fries....and the dessert.

The fries were long shoestring potatoes cooked in his secret blend of oils and they are still my favorite all these years.  

And I had my first flambé desert!  Huge fresh peaches...in a selected liquor sauce (four or five blends) set to blaze and then rich vanilla ice cream dumped on top.  WOW.  I can see it and taste it after all these years.  What a meal!

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The Movies:

Only movie house available to us was on the Frankfurt airport turf...and we always had to stand in line for some reason.  I took that opportunity to let everyone around know that “Nick Clooney of AFN” was with me...which pissed him off to no end. Because everyone 

listened to AFN who had a radio we were like movie stars!  One time I think we saw Helen Of Troy and Nick fell for Rossana Podesta!  (Rub it in George!)

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And as long as we’re on the subject of excursions...and because those followers of George Clooney would probably be interested... in the mind-think of his father back in the mid-fifties...this little tidbit.

We had a week of R & R (rest & relaxation) so Nick and I checked out military flights that we might catch free of charge of course.  The best seemed to be to Spain so we booked that one.

When we got to the Mats terminal they told us the flight had been canceled.  Bummer.

Where to go now?  Bags packed and money changed into dollars and a whole week of free time away from the Army.

I opted for catching a train to Paris and then on to the Riviera.

Nick thought about that and said “how about Berlin?”.  I told him he was nuts...a big bombed out city and nothing to do for a week...forget it.

Well..he was adamant and so we went our separate ways and I gotta tell ya I slid right thru Paris ( saw the Eiffel tower from the train) and got to Nice and Cannes in a hurry on a very fast overnight train with standing room only.  And I had a blast. Even made it to Monte Carlo.

Nick had surprised me with his choice...and once back didn’t seem interested in discussing it much.  I believe Berlin was a shock ...the real devastation of war etc. Those sights must have had a lasting impression on him as they would on anyone. Berlin instead of fun on the Riviera.  The choice is interesting....tells you a lot about the guy.

This is AFN.

AFN was a big deal.  I was one of the announcers...one of about a few dozen who did news...read public service announcements in between records or played DJ to the average 22 million listening every time you opened a mic!  

That’s right...I think that’s the number they told us.

Radio in Germany and France and Spain etc. was so bad that the Europeans took to listening to AFN by the droves.

We became “stars” overnight.  My favorite thing was to loudly call out some of my companions by name as we stood in the line for a movie or seat in a restaurant.

“Hey Nick Clooney...what's this film about!”

or...“anybody want Ray Van Steen’s autograph?”

The guys were not too happy with me but we WERE all amazed at the huge reaction to our presence.

I mention these guys cause they (and a few others) all went on to become famous and successful in later life.

Nick Clooney, (b.g...before George) was big in radio in his hometown of Cincinnati...and even bigger as a news anchor in at NBC TV Los Angeles and a movie host on AMC.

Ray Van Steen went to Chicago and ended up being a spokesman on the Allstate spots(I think) and becoming one of the top advertising guys in the business. Red Jones returned to Texas and became a legendary country/western jock. 

And another guy...Steve Binder became Elvis’ tv producer/director and you don’t get bigger than that.

We also had Alan Landsburg at AFN.  He would go to LA and end up doing the biography TV series....and some really award winning huge documentary series...and one god-awful Jaws sequel which I'm sure he’d like to forget!

It was amazing...the true talent we had at AFN Frankfurt in 1954-56.

I think the best times we had were sitting on the castles moat wall overlooking the Mainz River and drinking our Hennigerbrau Beer thru the wee small hours and talking about home...our families....and whatever.  Good times there.  Not to be enjoyed again.

Anyone who was going to be on the air at AFN had to be cleared for “top secret”.  I had no idea why...but that’s the way it was.  You don’t ask questions...just give them the answers.  About the time they wanted my Grandmother’s birth place and date I was happy it ended! 

Clooney told me later, after we got back to the states...and at his invite we were cleaning race horse stables at 5AM near Lexington, Kentucky...that the announcers actually set off the alerts in Europe.

We would be about to go on the air early in the morning and some non-com would bring in a public service announcement to replace the one scheduled (I remember this happening on my shift a few times) and that announcement contained a military code...a sentence or phrase... which when heard on the air would set the entire American military(and maybe British and French too) into action and on alert.

And I didn’t know we did that until Nick told me back in the states.

I spent some time at AFN Headquarters and then was sent to AFN Nuremberg...which kind felt like coming home.  I had missed my friends in Frankfurt, however,  and after a few months had a slight fender bender with an army car I was driving and my local AFN commandant got all bent out of shape about it.  I thought he was going to have me court-martialed over it...but he sent me back to Frankfurt-Hoechst for “reorientation”.  Little did he know I was delighted by the move and picked up with Nick, Ray and the guys where we had left off.

I remember Nick and I were going on R&R for a week..and decided we’d catch a free military flight to some place desirable.

Madrid was a possibility so we got into our civvies and were at the airport ready...but were informed the flight had been scrubbed.

What to do?  I plugged for Paris and the French Riviera but Nick said he would rather go to Berlin on a free MATS flight.  So we split.  I had a great time in Nice and Cannes...(been back several times) but Nick never said much about Berlin.  I always wondered about that.

my life...in retrospect.

   First...you think you’re God...or Christ or...The Durango Kid..and have mysterious powers etc...but that all goes away.  

Then...(returning to your “human” form)...you think maybe you might be successful in radio and work in some big city like Springfield, Illinois some day.

Actually...before that sinks in you are broadcasting to about 22 million Europeans on AFN...American Forces Network all over the continent.  Those were my Army years.

A few years later...I thought maybe I could be President...or Governor or something like that...but that wore off too.

    Or how about an actor?  A couple of trips to dear old Hollywood resulted in catching a baseball in a fireplace on the Bob Newhart show and then ending up collecting mail for the Beverly Hills post office.  So much for acting.

But then...you do find yourself running for Congress and losing.   But it was an interesting experience.

And...if losing that wasn’t enough ...you accidental start a fire that burns down your parents house!  Wow...bad luck...followed by some really bad luck.

So you are down...but not out.

In the boarding house that’s your current home...the phone rings and in answer to a resume you sent them some weeks earlier...it’s NBC News Chicago!  

You interview and are hired as a summer replacement writer/producer for tv and radio news.  Summer replacement means, of course, temporary... but at least your luck has changed.

    Then (with your guardian angel's help no doubt)...someone at 30 Rock New York finds out you’ve been to Vietnam a couple of times as a freelance reporter and bingo...they call and ask if I’d be interested in going to Saigon as a correspondent.  

Wham bang and thank you, yes.

They say...write  five minute newscast...do it on the closed circuit and we’ll monitor it.  I did...they liked it and two weeks later I’m on the big fast plane to the orient.

So...what do you make of all this?

In retrospective I’d say...”that’s life”...and just get on with it.

      This is Stan Major...NBC News...Saigon.

(In the six long months of my assignment in Saigon...that close to my radio reports was heard more often than any other correspondent on any network at anytime...not bad for a kid from Effingham, Illinois, huh!)
  
     More on each of these chapters of my life... forthcoming.
            Stay tuned!

a transfer? in the Army!

   Nobody gets a transfer in the Army.  That is just plain fact.  If you ever find someone who said they did...they’re lying...probably. 

    I did...but it took magic.

I worked directly under a guy why would process any transfer requests...and kill them!  But I became friendly with one desk jockey who told me how to beat the system.

He said it depends on the strength of the unit...not only where we were but also at AFN Germany in Frankfurt...the network equivalent of CBS or NBC for the armed forces.

If we were over-strength, he said, and AFN was under-strength...so...they could not block the transfer request.   However...he said the Colonel who ruled us all would likely “sit” on the request until we lost some men...or until AFN got some.  Then he could cancel it.

He recommended that I volunteer for some extra duty to catch the big boss’s attention so I offered to be a courier to 7th Army Headquarters.  

Now I must digress once again here because this was really an example when my “angel” took a hand in stopping me from starting World War III.

I took the top secret pouch and headed for the train from Nuremberg to Stuttgart, Germany.  Things went quickly... so after dropping the pouch off I decided to check for a little “action” in Stuttgart.  It wasn’t long when another GI and I were chatting... I noticed a pretty good looking girl was taking an interest.  We introduced ourselves and the three of us window shopped and then offered to buy her a drink.  She replied...”Why not just get a room?”

   We did...and that’s the way things happen in Europe. She wasn't a hooker....but her story was fascinating.

She said she had “serviced” the German SS officers during the last part of the war...and actually...she missed it!  Weird to us but the way things were in in 43-44...I could understand.  She told us she was working with a group of about 20-30 young girls and that was what they did.  Probably the only way they survived.

 
It was still not that late so I checked out to catch the last train back to Nuremberg...figuring I could sleep on the way.  I told the conductor to wake me before we got to Nuremberg and I’m sure he understood.

I only woke up when I noticed the train had not moved for sometime.  

A big  burly guy in a long green coat holding a rifle was standing over me. I looked around at the empty coach and said “Nuremberg?” and he laughed.

"I AM NOT A SPY"....or How I might have started World War III...or at least ended up in a "Czech" prison as trade bait for a real spy.
   
   The train had reached the border of Communist Czechoslovakia.
Now I must remind you I was in uniform...which probably saved a lot of trouble for me.  American military personnel are not allowed within about ten clicks of any border...but here I was ready to get off the train and step into a cold war nightmare. But this fellow was a fellow "well met" and he joked that I needed some coffee so we went into the small border station where I shook hands all around and said hello to several other border guards before having my hot cup of Czecho coffee.  It seemed the conductor forgot to wake me when we stopped at Nuremberg (probably on purpose...a left over unhappy German.)  This fellow spoke excellent english and said I would have to wait for a few hours for the first train going toward Nuremberg and suggested I go back to the rail car I had been in and get some rest. He assured me they would wake me in time fore the train.  Which they did.
I thanked them for treating me well and waved goodbye and never mentioned all this to anyone.  Are you kidding..with my transfer about to be finalized!  I did find out about something much crazier than this happening...which was kept quite for years.  Rumor had it that an American infantry officer mistakenly led his battalion across the border and into communist territory but soon realized his mistake and got the troops back before they were discovered!  And no one ever got the goods on that for the New York Times.

1954 New Years Eve...Guarding HITLER'S airport

        Like I said earlier...it WAS indeed a bumpy ride across the Atlantic. but upon arrival my "guardian angel" seemed to appear...read on:

        

        When we got to Bremerhaven, Germany they lined us up and ask anyone who could type please step forward.  This sounded like a good way to get out of supply...so I stepped forward.

I was sent to a unit that would play a major part in my getting an eventual transfer (unheard of in the military) into Armed Forces Radio.

I became a clerk-typist at the 3rd Armored Division headquarters in Nuremberg, Germany where the famous Nazi war crimes trail took place ten years earlier.

This...for the Army...was good duty. Make that...great!

We were based in an building that had been a key SS headquarters for Hitler’s military...called simply the SS Kasern in south Nuremberg. It had lots of bullet holes on it!

       http://www.kubiss.de/kulturreferat/reichsparteitagsgelaende/englisch/ss_kaserne.htm

 
The office work was easy...and every night we hit the town for beer and jazz.  They had some great jazz clubs and American soldiers were very welcome...even though  we still used script at the time...which was like monopoly money but good anyway.  

I remember one club had a drummer who, in my opinion, was as good or better than the famous Gene Krupa.  He played so hard he kept having nervous breakdowns but boy was he hot.  He could solo on the drums for about an hour at a time....and nobody would miss the rest of the band!  I’d never seen anything like it.

We bunked between two and four to a room...and most of the guys were smart...well educated and friendly.   Typical was one PFC who’s Dad had invented the plastic dixie drinking cup or owned the the Scott paper company or something like that ...and he had to be rich as hell.  But he didn’t act like it...he was just one of the nicest guys around.  I often wondered what happened to him.  His son is probably running the company by now.  This was not the case later at AFN...armed forces radio.  A snotty kid came in for duty...he let us all know his Dad owned the biggest steel mill in Ohio and he was rich and acted it.  He bought a snazzy Mercedes 300 SL and drove it around showing it and himself off. The only nice thing he did was to buy thousands of dollars worth of ham radio equipment so he (and we occasionally) could contact our loved ones back in the states. I got in on that and I thank him for it.  However I heard that after he returned to the states he was killed driving recklessly on the Ohio turnpike in that SL.  Sad.

New years 1955 was approaching and us new guys found out what happened New Years eve.     We were restricted to the barracks but everyone bought a big bottle of their favorite hard liquor...no wine allowed... and the approach to the new year was passed by taking your bottle and a large mug and going from room to room and sampling everyone’s bottle.  Awards were given for the guys who could make it from one end of the hallway to the other and it was a really long, long building!

About 11:30PM we were all goners...weaving all around the place and then a typical Army thing happened.  We heard the call to fall in for formation.

Well...I’ve got to tell you it was something else.  I guess maybe I was the soberest but I was plenty woozy from the mix of the booze and could hardly make it down the stairs to the parade ground standing up straight.

After we sort of composed ourselves in some kind of formation the sergeant yelled that five of us were needed for all night guard duty.

Man ...it was quite a scene.  My buddies kept passing out on the ground and of course nobody volunteered so the Sarg picked five of us...and yep...wouldn’t you know he focused in on me... I guess because I was still standing fairly straight up.

We headed back to our rooms to gather heavy coats and weapons.  But we were not allowed to take any ammunition.  That would be tempting fate with the condition we were in.

   A couple of jeeps pulled up outside the barracks and took us to our posts.

As luck would have it I got Hitler’s underground airport.  Nothing like all the Nazi ghosts in the world gathering around me, all alone,  for the next few hours until daylight.  Lucky I was drunk...otherwise it would have got to me.

Hitler had ordered his architect Albert Speer (of later book fame from jail) to build an airstrip next to the Nazi Rally grounds on Zeppelin Field...but the end of the runway would go underground so Hitler and his henchmen would be safe from allied bombing.  There were underground walkways from there to all parts of the city of Nuremberg and we were told to be careful because the Germans had mined all of them!  I've wondered if the mines were ever dealt with.  If the city goes up sometime you'll know the rumor was right!

So there I was...with an empty rifle...barely able to stand up...and in the dark, cold German night all I could see was the outline a Hitler’s half completed World Congress building where he had planned to have the leaders of the his conquered nations meet once the war ended. But it didn’t work out that way.

Finally, the dawn came and with it a jeep to cart us back to the barracks and badly need sleep.

But it was a duty and night I’ll never forget.

       

more early days...

    Before we head off to war...or peace as it was...there were several things in the earlier days that I remember.

   My Dad returned from the real war...and was offered an important position as "District Highway Engineer" based in Effingham, Illinois in the south-central part of the state. This meant that he was in charge of all the roads in that district and of the people who worked in the district.  Normally this would not have been a big deal...but his timing was key because President Eisenhower having seen Hitler's autobahns convinced the Congress to mandate a spectacular "Interstate" highway system so that military and specialized transport would have the ability to respond to any emergencies that might develop in the future. My Dad found out that two of the largest new highways would intersect about ten miles Northwest of the city.  Sometime in my grade school years he said "come on Stanley...we're going for a ride." This wasn't unusual as he often tried to spur my interest in his profession but it never took.

   He drove on a dirt road west of the city made a left into a huge empty field and pulled to a stop.  We got out and I was wondering what was so important that he was taking time to go site seeing in an open field.

   There were several survey posts with small red banners stuck in the ground...and not a real road in sight.

   "Stanley", he said "in a few months the largest construction outfit ever is going to start clearing dirt here.  Where you're standing will be two of the largest  highways ever built will bisect...one going east to west toward California and the other north and south from Chicago to New Orleans!"  and sure enough...check your maps...it all came true.

  My Dad was the most ethical person I've ever known.  With that confidential knowledge he could have scored well with the people and businesses that prevail around that intersection today.  But he didn't waver and I even heard him on the home phone tell a Senator that he could not reveal any information about the project.

   So it was kinda surprising that he took what we would later call in the radio biz "payola" from contractors he dealt with. "Mr. Ethical" Major felt he couldn't make bundles of dollars with secret information but when it came to a free trip to Kentucky for the Derby...well...that WAS different.

  In 1951 Dad and Mom packed my sister Sallee and me into the Packard and we headed south to Louisville for the Derby...box seat and all the expenses paid by one of his contractors!

  I was about 16 by that time and the scene was quite interesting but the big thing I remember was walking in from the parking lot and almost bumping into the most famous face in the world:  
   The Duke Of Windsor!  
   Yep...the King who gave up the throne for the woman he loved. I was a couple of paces from him as he walked toward the stands where he and his wife the Duchess would be presenting the roses to the winner. Though I was just 16 and we had little television at that time I still recognized him the moment I saw him...as his was the most famous face in the world. He looked down at me and smiled as our eyes met and I will never forget that moment.  I've met and interviewed a lot of famous persons since that time but none have given me that "chill up the spine" effect that the Duke did...that day.  I hardly noticed the race after that! 

    
http://digital.library.louisville.edu/cdm/singleitem/collection/potter/id/33/rec/4

The next year my life could have radically changed because a guy my Dad fired from work returned and took a shot at him.  The bullet went between this legs and he was fine...the guy was arrested and the only scary thing was the cops came and pulled me out of school and wouldn't tell me why.  I ran into the house and Mom was crying but said Dad was fine and explained what had happened.

  Another interesting event that I won't forget did hurt me.  I went out to a small lake with some friends and the car hit a bumblebee nest,  I jumped out and ran like the others but most of the bees took a liking to me and I got stung over thirty times.

I convalesced at home...staying on a screened-in porch that was cool at night and the only thing I'd eat were fresh red raspberries. The doctor told my folks that I would be fine but this was during the polio epidemic and he thought I might have contracted the serious disease but my system had stopped it.  If so, he told my folks, I would be safe from polio my whole life.  One never knows.

   Late one night in 1949...another event would happen...putting my hometown of Effingham on the world map.

   My dad woke me up and said there was something going on north of the city.

We got dressed and went outside and heard a bunch of sirens and smelled fire.

Dad and I got into the car and we drove north thru Effingham and followed the rest of the traffic.  

  The main hospital was burning to the ground and the smell of burning flesh is something that stays with one forever.

   74 persons died that night as St. Anthony's Hospital was totally destroyed.

Investigators would later determine that there was very little chance of survival...hardly any plan for this kind of fast moving blaze and two things I recall...cement statues in front of the windows preventing escape...and a report that the only priest on the scene was so shaken (or drunk) that he couldn't administer last rites to the dead. "It's an ill wind that blows no good" they say and this caused a massive change in most hospitals in this country with conditions improving for safety of patients and staff alike. Others would now have a better chance.

  One light note from all this...the first members of the press arrived over the city from Chicago...tv, radio, newspaper reporters and the pilot requested landing instructions at Effingham's small airport. The ground clearance guy told em..."you can't land here...it's a mud runway...it's been pouring rain here all day".  They had to divert to another city and find ground transport back to the scene.

  Finally from the early days...we had a prom coming up at my high school and I had a crush on Debbie Reynolds from "Singing In The Rain" so I wrote her a letter inviting her to be my guest and surprise...I got a hand written two page letter a couple of weeks later thanking me and saying she would love to do it but that she had just started working on a new film.  But she was very nice and great handwriting...on blue stationary!   It was a surprise.  

  Well...that seems to be it for those early days although I'm sure to come up with a note or two later on.  I've decided to basically keep my personal life...trails and tribulations etc. out of this blog so I won't detail too much...but I did fall in love with a beautiful blond who was actually a couple of years older than me and we got married before I left for the army years.  Ruth had a lovely daughter and named her Katharine...Kathy...and I got some time to spend with them before doing my duty.  I must also admit I married young (too young)and entered the Army young.  In fact, I couldn't legally buy a drink even as a vet who had guarded Hitler's private underground air terminal in Nuremberg!  

  

 Radio's Stan Major...

Stan has enjoyed three full careers during his years in the broadcasting business. His first was while in his junior year of high school in Effingham, Illinois on WCRA. After graduation and serving in the Army (1954-56) with the Armed Forces Network in Frankfurt, Germany, he attended Bradley University while continuing to jock at WIRL in Peoria. It was there that, as a promotional stunt, he stayed awake for six days in a new car dealer’s showroom setting a new world record at that time. Moving up fast as a jock and programmer, he took on mornings at WPGC in Washington, DC, WCAO Baltimore and, by the time he was 25, Chicago’s WJJD as program director.

  Then, a second side of his radio career opened up: radio news. Stan was a newsman at WMEX, Boston’s top rocker, when he broke the story of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. He was also senior producer at Gordon McLendon’s all news WNUS in Chicago. Then, with the advent of the Vietnam War, he began to freelance, doing thousands of interviews with servicemen to send back to their hometown stations. Later, he produced and syndicated the first and only regular daily hour-long program from a war zone.

  Upon returning from a second tour of Vietnam, Stan began his third career in broadcasting: talk radio. He initiated a nightly talk show on KMBC in Kansas City which began a series of local talk originations stretching from there to St. Louis (WIL) and Milwaukee (WOKY) to New Orleans (WGSO) and Miami (WNUS and WINZ). Included was a stop at Tampa’s WDAE as host of “Talk of Tampa Bay” weeknights from 8 to midnight. But it wasn’t an entirely pleasurable experience there. Along with some others, he lost his job in an attempt by the Teamsters to organize the station’s personnel. 

  Stan scored his biggest interview scoop at WNUS in Miami when he called Richard Nixon’s private number in San Clemente and woke him up from a nap. The two chatted for about twenty minutes in an interview that was used by hundreds of stations, not only in this country, but as far away as London, Rome and Tokyo.

  During the Cuban boat fiasco, Stan was literally run out of Miami because of his opposition to letting the Cubans in. His next stop was WWDB, the Philadelphia FM talker, where he stayed for five years, two of them as PD. When the station was sold, he joined KFYI in Phoenix for a year before returning to Miami to follow phenomenon and long time friend Neil Rogers on WINZ.

  When WINZ re-formatted to all news Stan decided to go national with a live all night talk show from Clearwater’s Sun Network. The new show was well met and soon he was on in many major markets – Dallas, Seattle, Los Angeles, Cleveland, St. Louis, Boston, San Diego, Salt Lake City, Phoenix, Detroit, New Orleans, Las Vegas Miami, West Palm Beach, Orlando, and of course, Tampa.  Through nearly ten years the show was carried on a total of over 500 stations. After that, he moved to mornings with Boston’s National Radio Network.

  It should also be mentioned that Stan ran for Congress in 1968 and the Illinois Senate in 1972, and anchored TV news in Rockford and Panama City. But he’ll tell you that the highlight of his broadcasting career was being chosen as NBC News’ Saigon correspondent (1969-70). During his Vietnam tour, he had more reports used on NBC Radio News than anyone…ever!

  Today... Stan is semi-retired and makes his home in Ft. Lauderdale, Fl.      

1954....around September...not the best time to “sail the Atlantic”.

 1954...around September...not the best time to “sail the Atlantic”.

We boarded a ship that actually was a converted enemy transport the Germans had built (I think).  I don’t remember the name of it but  we joked that the Queen Elizabeth luxury liner passed us going into New York and then passed us again going back to England!  If our ship had gone forward as much as up and down we would have been in Bremerhaven in about three or four days but this trip took a week!

We were shown our bunks...in one the the most cramped spaces you could imagine. I found out that if you volunteered for night watch you could spend most of the trip on the top decks...and also eat in the officer’s mess.  Of course no one was dumb enough to eat.

Everyone was sick.  I think the only thing I could keep down was some cake from time to time.

In the quiet but rolling hours before daylight I had plenty of time to think about the past and not worry too much about the future.

I had never really known my Dad.  He was in two world wars...and not home much until 1945.  In WW1 he was an artillery officer stationed mainly in Texas...but in the early 1940’s he was sent to what was then Persia...because as an engineer, who built roads, his expertise was badly needed to build airstrips for FDR’s big lend lease project for the Russians.  My Dad should be a “Hero” in the Soviet Union!  He worked with Russian and British officers to get the airstrips built in what is now Iran so that masses of food and badly needed supplies could be airlifted into the areas like Leningrad where the Germans had entire cities blockaded and surrounded. 

A few years later he would get to our home in Paris, Illinois for a few days R & R  and then be on his way to the Pacific. 

During this time of war a couple of things happened  that I can remember even though I was in the first or second grade.

When I was about five years old I was hit by a car at the stop sign in front of our house in Paris.

The guy had stopped and I was crossing in front when he took off and ran over me.  I guess my Guardian Angel showed up (he’s been hovering around my entire life saving me from misfortune) as the only injury was a minor one...a bump in the head from something under the car.

I recall sitting on our front steps and listening to FDR’s speech about the Japs bombing Pearl Harbor

My sister, Jeanne, had married a sailor who was stationed in south Texas so Mom moved my other sister Sallee and me down to Brownsville.  It was interesting but rough as the Texas school system insisted on making me go through to first grade all over again...and in a hot school with no air conditioning of course.  

Well...I loved tortillas and there was a tortilla factory near the school so we would stop to buy fresh tortillas almost everyday.

One day the whole family went to Boca Chica beach to take a walk on the sand.  I wanted to check for Nazi submarines reported in the area (yes they actually captured one later) and I was so intent in searching the sea I stepped right into a dead and decaying shark on in the sand.  Not something you soon forget!

We would be moving back to Paris after just a year or so in Brownsville but before that we were all routed out of bed about 4am by Mom who was excited as she had word that the President would be passing through town very early in the morning on his train going to Mexico for high level war talks.  so we hopped in the car and drove to the train station at the border to wait.  Sure enough the Presidential train slowly rolled by and onto the bridge but, of course, FDR was hidden in sleep somewhere...but what the heck...we saw his train!

One more note about the border.  Some friends and I would play in the wooded area near the Rio Grande river (which you could walk across...as there wasn’t much water.)

We played a lot in the tunnels that were all over the place...without knowing their real use by Mexicans to get into the U.S.

We never ran into any Mexicans in those tunnels...but I guess we were just lucky.

off to war...or peace

1954...off to war (or peacekeeping)

I volunteered for the draft and went in to get my two years over with so I could get on with my life.

I Reported for basic training to a camp in Arkansas...and squeaked thru the eight weeks. I asked for an MOS in field related to my couple of years broadcasting experience and they just laughed and sent me to supply school in Ft. Lee, Va.

Because my Dad had been an officer in two world wars attaining rank of Lt. Colonel I wanted to impress him and become an officer. I took the Office Candidate School exam and despite a temp of over 100 degrees in the loft where we were examined I nearly made the grade.  I applied to take it again in better circumstances and the first of several things that would make my army time very interesting happened.

Our Company Commander called me in... with a proposition.

"You drop your request on OCS (it was a lot of paperwork for him) and I’ll send you...not to Korea (where we were waging war on behalf of the United Nations instead of the United States) but to Europe where you can see the sights and the girls and enjoy your stay."

Needless to say I jumped at it.

I got my travel orders in August and was transferred to Ft. Dix New Jersey where we’d leave by transport ship out of the Port of New York.  We were billeted in an old WAC barracks and all of us waiting for transport found that fascinating. 

       There were no urinals..and in the rest rooms they had painted formal army type signs on the walls above the sinks:

                            “IF YOU ARE GONNA DO IT

                            DO IT WITH A G.I.”

There was a lot of not so serious discussion going on around the barracks...some of us decided that it was a joke...others said some horny top male officer at the base must have had the signs put up!  

very early days

      My 50 + years in radio began in my bedroom in our small house in Illinois...when I was in the 7th or 8th grade.

After my Father arranged a visit to our local radio station (just one in town) I had the bug and fixed up my own control board with wooden dials and buttons for my “lets pretend broadcasts”.  I used one of Mom's candlesticks as my mic!

Edward R. Murrow was my hero so I mainly read new stories from the local paper into the wooden mic.  Several years later while still in high school I was signing that station on each morning and signing it off after school...the real one that is.  I also emptied wastepaper baskets and made a whole $20 a week!  But I was in radio...working seven days a week.  It was great.  

My ambition then was to make it to a big Springfield, Illinois station WMAY.  I skipped that one and was program director of a Chicago station at age 24.  I did make it onto the airwaves at WMAY in 69-70...but from Saigon as a correspondent for NBC News!

_________________________

   Before we head off to war...or peace as it was...there were several things in the earlier days that I remember.
   My Dad returned from the real war...and was offered an important position as "District Highway Engineer" based in Effingham, Illinois in the south-central part of the state. This meant that he was in charge of all the roads in that district and of the people who worked in the district.  Normally this would not have been a big deal...but his timing was key because President Eisenhower having seen Hitler's autobahns convinced the Congress to mandate a spectacular "Interstate" highway system so that military and specialized transport would have the ability to respond to any emergencies that might develop in the future. My Dad found out that two of the largest new highways would intersect about ten miles Northwest of the city.  Sometime in my grade school years he said "come on Stanley...we're going for a ride." This wasn't unusual as he often tried to spur my interest in his profession but it never took.
   He drove on a dirt road west of the city made a left into a huge empty field and pulled to a stop.  We got out and I was wondering what was so important that he was taking time to go site seeing in an open field.
   There were several survey posts with small red banners stuck in the ground...and not a real road in sight.
   "Stanley", he said "in a few months the largest construction outfit ever is going to start clearing dirt here.  Where you're standing will be two of the largest  highways ever built will bisect...one going east to west toward California and the other north and south from Chicago to New Orleans!"  and sure enough...check your maps...it all came true.
  My Dad was the most ethical person I've ever known.  With that confidential knowledge he could have scored well with the people and businesses that prevail around that intersection today.  But he didn't waver and I even heard him on the home phone tell a Senator that he could not reveal any information about the project.
   So it was kinda surprising that he took what we would later call in the radio biz "payola" from contractors he dealt with. "Mr. Ethical" Major felt he couldn't make bundles of dollars with secret information but when it came to a free trip to Kentucky for the Derby...well...that was different.
  In 1951 Dad and Mom packed my sister Sallee and me into the Packard and we headed south to Louisville for the Derby...box seat and all the expenses paid by one of his contractors!
  I was about 16 by that time and the scene was quite interesting but the big thing I remember was walking in from the parking lot and almost bumping into the most famous face in the world:  The Duke Of Windsor!  Yep...the King who gave up the throne for the woman he loved. I was a couple of paces from him as he walked toward the stands where he and his wife the Duchess would be presenting the roses to the winner. Though I was just 16 and we had little television at that time I still recognized him the moment I saw him...as his was the most famous face in the world. He looked down at me and smiled as our eyes met and I will never forget that moment.  I've met and interviewed a lot of famous persons since that time but none have given me that "chill up the spine" effect that the Duke did...that day.  I hardly noticed the race after that! 
    http://digital.library.louisville.edu/cdm/singleitem/collection/potter/id/33/rec/4

The next year my life could have radically changed because a guy my Dad fired from work returned and took a shot at him.  The bullet went between this legs and he was fine...the guy was arrested and the only scary thing was the cops came and pulled me out of school and wouldn't tell me why.  I ran in the house and Mom was crying but said Dad was fine and explained what had happened.
  Another interesting event that I won't forget did hurt me.  I went out to a small lake with some friends and the car hit a bumblebee nest,  I jumped out and ran like the others but most of the bees took a liking to me and I got stung over thirty times.
I convalesced at home...staying on a screened-in porch that was cool at night and the only thing I'd eat were fresh red raspberries. The doctor told my folks that I would be fine but this was during the polio epidemic and he thought I might have contracted the serious disease but my system had stopped it.  If so, he told my folks, I would be safe from polio my whole life.  One never knows.
   Late one night in 1949...another event would happen...putting my hometown of Effingham on the world map.
   My dad woke me up and said there was something going on north of the city.
We got dressed and went outside and heard a bunch of sirens and smelled fire.
Dad and I got into the car and we drove north thru Effingham and followed the rest of the traffic.  
  The main hospital was burning to the ground and the smell of burning flesh is something that stays with one forever.
   74 persons died that night as St. Anthony's Hospital was totally destroyed.
Investigators would later determine that there was very little chance of survival...hardly any plan for this kind of fast moving blaze and two things I recall...cement statues in front of the windows preventing escape...and a report that the only priest on the scene was so shaken (or drunk) that he couldn't administer last rites to the dead. "It's an ill wind that blows no good" they say and this caused a massive change in most hospitals in this country with conditions improving for safety of patients and staff alike. Others would now have a better chance.
  One light note from all this...the first members of the press arrived over the city from Chicago...tv, radio, newspaper reporters and the pilot requested landing instructions at Effingham's small airport. The ground clearance guy told em..."you can't land here...it's a mud runway...it's been pouring rain here all day".  They had to divert to another city and find ground transport back to the scene.
  Finally from the early days...we had a prom coming up at my high school and I had a crush on Debbie Reynolds from "Singing In The Rain" so I wrote her a letter inviting her to be my guest and surprise...I got a hand written two page letter a couple of weeks later thanking me and saying she would love to do it but that she had just started working on a new film.  But she was very nice and great handwriting...on blue stationary!   It was a surprise.  
  Well...that seems to be it for those early days although I'm sure to come up with a note or two later on.  I've decided to basically keep my personal life...trials and tribulations etc. out of this blog so I won't detail too much...but I did fall in love with a beautiful blond who was actually a couple of years older than me and we got married before I left for the army.  Ruth had a lovely daughter and named her Katharine...Kathy...and I got some time to spend with them before doing my duty.  I must also admit I married young (too young)and entered the Army young.  In fact, I couldn't legally buy a drink even as a vet who had guarded Hitler's private underground air terminal in Nurenberg!