Category: Life Stories

Something most people don’t know about me is that I spent time on the mission field. No, I am not a Mormon, this was not the mandatory Mormon mission field that Mormons are required to serve in. This was the evangelical Christian mission field. This was during the summer of 1971, between my college graduation and my entering theological seminary in the fall of 1971 to work towards my Masters of Divinity degree (M.Div.) and possible ordination as a minister. I volunteered to be a summer helper and worker for my friends who were missionaries in an Eskimo village in Alaska, right on the Bering Sea, just a hundred miles south of Nome, Alaska. It was one of those unique, once-in-a-lifetime experiences I’m so glad I took advantage of when the opportunity arose.

I was nearing my college graduation in Seattle and the church I was a member of sent out an appeal for volunteers to spend the coming summer in this Eskimo village, helping to build a dormitory for the mission high school. The high school was run by friends of mine and I decided that that would be an excellent way to spend my summer between schools. Construction skills were not required, just the ability and commitment to work hard and learn what needed to be done, just follow instructions from the skilled workers on the project. I applied for the position, was supported by the church, and accepted.

Wow, three months in the wilds of Alaska! I was excited. Something I’d never imagined doing, something new for this young college graduate to try out. A weird feeling came over me just imagining what may lay ahead of me.

I told my family what I was going to do. Of course they had no idea what I was talking about or why I was doing this (they were not “church people” as I disclosed in previous blogs). To them, this was just another weird thing I (the Christian/Jesus freak, in their eyes, I’m sure) was planning to do in my strange (to them) life.

So, off to Alaska. I decided to get to the village by taking Alaska Airline’s “milk run” up the coast from Seattle to Anchorage, making several stops along the way so I could get a good view of the Alaska coast and the cities and villages and glaciers. There were stops at Ketchikan, Juneau and one or two other places. It was an exciting trip seeing all this new territory.

Settling in there once we arrived in this small village, we worked every day (except Sunday) doing construction work. There was a summer volunteer crew and we got to know each other. It was a fun time. One worker went to college with Franklin Graham, Billy Graham’s son. He told us stories about what a wild kid Franklin was. Another worker became attracted to the daughter of my missionary friends. He later told me how uncomfortable he was knowing that the daughter and I were friends for years. He really had no reason to be concerned, as she and I had no romantic intensions, we were just friends. He eventually married her a couple of years later and I made a return trip to the village to attend the wedding.

We had the president of the church denomination visit the school and the missionaries. That was an exciting time for me. It was also exciting being involved in the various activities that filled our off-duty time. We were all provided with fishing licenses and often went fishing on the river. It was amazing catching the large (huge, actually) salmon without much effort. This was all new territory for me, one exciting experience after another. It was also quite an experience having sunlight twenty-four hours a day. I don’t know that I would like the winters there with twenty-four hours of darkness every day, but the summers can be handled with dark curtains in the bedroom.

The village Eskimo people were great. I enjoyed the time with them. A couple of the workers got to go to Nome, a hundred miles up the coast, to assist in teaching vacation bible school. So we were always busy doing something but we also had enough down time to enjoy the area, the Alaskan wilderness.

It was a good experience expanding my awareness of life, the world, and different cultures. We were treated very well and were really a “summer family.” I wouldn’t change that experience for anything. A great time in my life. A time to ready myself for seminary in the fall.

So, the day came for me to leave. I worked the morning of my last day, as the Alaska Airlines flight to take me to Anchorage and back to Seattle would not be there until the afternoon. I didn’t think anything of it, but Don, the missionary leader of the summer work force came to me and said how impressed he was with me for my work there, and he was especially appreciative that I worked even on my last day there. I guess he just assumed I’d not work that half a day before the plane arrived to take me away from this wonderful summer experience.

So, heading home now, the plan was to get home, load up my VW bug with all my belongings for grad school experience coming up and drive to
Chicago. My brother decided to accompany me half-way on my trip to Chicago as he had a few days off from his work. He went with me as far as Denver then flew home. I was now on my own again, heading to a new experience. It was a wonderful time. A good life.

Wally

This is a story I presented at a story-telling brunch at a church fund-raiser a while back. It was a fun time hearing people’s brief five minute life stories. This was one of those defining, life changing, transformative moments I think many of us have experienced at some time in our personal history.

It was probably 1967 and I was at a very low, depressed time in my life. I can’t remember exactly why I was so depressed, but everything was falling apart in my life, at least in my own messed-up mind. I had graduated from high school and was working at uninspiring, menial jobs. My close friends were gone away to college. I had moved away from home as I was very unhappy living at home before my graduation. One night I just decided it was time to run away from all my problems and unhappiness. I got in my 1956 Chevy (the best car I ever had), filled it with gas and headed east from Los Angeles on the I-10, which goes from Los Angeles to Jacksonville, Florida. My plan was was to keep going east until I found a new place to start a new life. I assumed I’d end up in the Midwest or somewhere on the east coast, probably. The first big city on my route was Phoenix, so I figured that would be my first stop. So on I drove, into the pitch black night in the California desert.

I had lots of time to think as the hours passed by. A lot of various thoughts. It was scary doing this, I had no idea what was ahead for me. I only knew that I had to do this. I knew, also, that this was a better plan than totally giving up and considering something more drastic. This was the best option, as I saw it.

After a few hours I realized I’d need to gas up at the Colorado River, which was coming up before too long. It was maybe 2am or so and it was pitch black with the starry desert sky overhead. I was so absorbed in thought I suddenly realized it was totally silent in the car. I decided to turn on the radio. I had been so transfixed in such deep thought, deep, depressed thought for hours I decided it was time for a break and listen to the radio.

I turned on the radio, and of course I was in the middle of nowhere, so the radio had no strong radio stations coming through, just lots of static and some very weak, distant stations. Tuning the radio, I heard a somewhat strong station and continued listening. Eventually the station identified itself as KOMO in Seattle, Washington. Wow, I thought, a very distant station but coming through as a pretty good signal. I kept listening.

As I listened, my mind kicked in and I started thinking of Seattle. I had never been to Seattle. Wondered what Seattle was like. Hmmm, Seattle, Washington. Then it hit me, right out of the blue, as they say. I had three friends attending college up there in Seattle. Three friends I had met in high school in Los Angeles. They were attending a college there in the Pacific Northwest. My mind started thinking, I have three friends in Seattle attending college. Hey, maybe I should consider going to Seattle to start my new life! Hmmm… why not? That might a better solution to my problems than just running away to who knows where. Hey, why not go to the same college that my friends were attending? I really had not thought of attending college and getting a degree. In a previous blog I mentioned how my high school counselor told me one day I was not college material and don’t even think of trying to get into a college.

So, I have friends there right now, I was thinking. I bet I could get into college if I worked at it. It just might work out. This was a spontaneous thought, or inspiration is perhaps a better way to see it. Wow, all of the sudden my whole body reacted to the thought and I felt a wonderful feeling. This could be my escape from my depressed period of my life. I suddenly snapped out of my deep state of thought and said to myself, “I’m going to do it, at least try to do it.” Time to turn around and head home and begin my new plan. Just about then I was coming up on the town of Blyth, California, at the Arizona border and the Colorado River. Time to fill up my car for the return trip to Los Angeles.

My whole life changed in that instant of listening to the car radio and imagining myself attending college in Seattle. Back home, I had a long rest from that eventful night and the next day began working on my project of getting admitted to college. I had to take the SAT test, get recommendations, one from my pastor if I was attending a church (it was a small, conservative Christian college). I did all the things I needed to do and the result was that I was finally accepted. Wow, a new adventure and life awaited me. I had no idea where this was going to lead me, but I was on board with the plan to get a college education. It was not that I had any particular feeling about having a college education, as I never even entertained the idea before, really.

The big day came when a friend took me to the airport and I boarded the plane for Seattle. I was on my way. My very early blogs pick up from this point. They cover my college years, briefly, and then my graduate school experiences in a theological seminary. Then my leaving school to get into the world again and begin job hunting, where I eventually got started in my airline career.

So, this desert experience. What a major turning point in my life story. What a story of salvation, in a sense. What would my life have been like if I had relocated to some unknown place in the country after my unplanned road trip in desperation and depression. I know now that I was being led to do the right thing, as I always have been even when I had no awareness of some sort of Divine guidance. Yes, something has kept me on the path of this wonderful life I’ve lived!

Wally

They say public speaking is the biggest fear that most people have, worse than the fear of death. I never really understood that, but, okay, maybe it is. I’ve never been terrified of it, but after my first experiences with it, maybe I should have been. In college I took a speech class, just for fun. Didn’t really think much about it, just jumped right in to see what it would be like. All went well until our first real challenge, impromptu speaking. We had to give a three-to-five minute talk about whatever the professor picked as our individual topic after we were standing in front of the class. So, there I am standing in front of the class as professor Hanson says, “talk about a comb.” Um, really, okay, um…. I have no memory of how I handled that one. I must have said something for the allotted time. A comb Really I remember standing there and I must have survived somehow.

The next time I got into a similar situation was when somehow I got persuaded to go to a Toastmasters meeting where people practice public speaking. Once again, I just jumped in and said to myself, “why not, maybe I’ll learn something.” Similar experience. For the newcomers, they had us stand up and talk about whatever topic the speaker gave us. The leader said, talk about jodhpurs.” Huh, I thought. What the hell. “You know, the English horse riding attire, she said. Huh, I thought. Once again I cannot recall how I stood there and talked about something I knew nothing about, but once again I survived.

So, I end up in seminary after college preparing for a possible ministry career. At least now I can choose the subjects of my talks and prepare them in advance. My first preaching experience was at a hospital chapel. At least I had a grasp of my subject but it was not encouraging that most of the audience had been wheeled into the chapel in their wheelchairs and slept through my sermon. That should have been the end of this public speaking project now that I look back at all of this, but I kept going.

Well, I did not complete my seminary education and get my Masters of Divinity degree or get ordained in the denomination I was studying in. I did do some public speaking and preaching engagements over the years since, though. As a guest speaker I did okay and got some good reviews. If I had pursued that line of work I’m sure I would have done well with more experience (“practice makes perfect”, they say).

But as fun as being a guest speaker was for me, it was a bit unsatisfying for me because it took so much work, the task lasted for maybe fifteen minutes or so and a few days later, nobody really remembers what I said. I found that rather limiting as far as any real impact in the whole scheme of things for me. I realized that the written word has a little more impact and permanence and I started thinking about writing. People had told me they were impressed with my writing when I wrote essays, etc. My college roommate was very impressed when I had to write my draft board to beg them to renew my draft exempt status because I lost it during my college education.

I had always enjoyed writing. In an earlier blog I wrote about how my father was a writer and I must have picked up that interest from him. As a kid I published a neighborhood newspaper and really enjoyed that experience. I tried writing short stories and fiction in school but didn’t do well with that. I was better at nonfiction .

So, fast forward to today. I had always thought of writing my memoirs, just as my dad had done a long time ago. I found that project too much for me and realized I’d never sit down and write a whole book, an autobiography. I made attempts, but found it all a bit overwhelming. Then I began to consider writing short essays or what was becoming popular in our technical/computer age as “blogging.” That made more sense to me, I could handle that. I can write short pieces regarding my life and thoughts, etc., whereas I’d probably never put my life into a book.

So, about a year and a half ago I explored what would be involved in writing a blog. The more I studied blogging the more interested and excited I got with the idea. I talked the idea over with my spiritual consultant that I see periodically and decided I was going to give it a go.

Exploring the internet, I discovered a site that laid out how to get a blogging website up and running and I went for it ( after the usual procrastination involved in trying something new like this and pushing myself out of my “comfort zone”). Hey, just like starting out in public speaking. Just decide to go for it!

When I sat down to set up my website it asked for a title I wanted for my blog. The strangest thing was that I didn’t have to even think about that one, a title just came to me automatically, instantaneously, “On the Path.” It just popped into my head. That’s what life is, I was thinking, we are all on the path of our lives, whatever that may be for us. Then it asked for a subtitle, or whatever term they used. Again, no hesitation, no real thought involved, a phrase just popped into my head, again, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” That’s my feeling at this stage of my life, it is a wonderful life! It’s a wonderful life being on my path.

So, it’s a year and a half after this “experiment” began and I’m quite satisfied. I’ve gotten good responses and reviews. People I’ve known since my very early years have said things like, “I’ve known you through all these years and experiences and seen you go through all these things, but it’s interesting to see how you viewed the events and situations and how you see them now.” And those more recent friends who don’t know much about me have the opportunity to read my posts and get caught -up-to-speed.

It’s an interesting process to get my thoughts together and organized and out of my head and into the written word. It’s also a bit of therapy for me to see these things now and how I express them. Before getting them down into the written word, sometimes these thoughts and memories are just a jumbled mess in my mind. It is like doing therapy on myself.

So, I tried public speaking. I tried preaching. I tried writing. All good experiences. Writing seems to be my preferred means of expression at this point on my path. We never know that the future will bring, maybe something new and different, but this is where I am today, writing my life and thoughts in blog posts, in a public forum. It truly is a wonderful life. Thanks for joining me on this journey.

Wally

One thing that fascinates me is discovering what odd jobs or even temporary careers celebrities have had in their lives before they got their “big break” and became “somebody,” became famous. It’s really interesting trying to picture them doing whatever it is they did as they were struggling and trying to find their place in life.

That line of thought got me thinking about my own life and all the strange “odd jobs” I’ve had in my early life. At first I thought, “you know, I’ve only really had one job my whole life, my airline career,” then, upon deeper reflection, a lot of memories came back to me. I realized that I did, in fact, have a lot of odd jobs earlier in my life before I “found myself” and my life purpose (well, my working life purpose anyway). Yeah, I did do a lot of odd things early in life, and gee, I wonder if there were lessons to be learned in all those jobs I had. I spent a lot of time trying to figure life out and what I was going to do.

My first working experience was as a little kid being a model, which I covered in a previous blog. My parents got me into that work as my family was doing that kind of work and working in the movie industry back then. For some reason I really didn’t take to that work much, it was okay, I guess, and I am amazed looking at the photos from that period. I was cute and it was sort of fun. I think my lesson was, yes there is this world of modeling and acting if that’s what I want to do. It’s a busy and fascinating industry.

In my youth a neighborhood friend and I developed a lawn-mowing business. I also got a job delivering newspapers early in the morning twice a week the Eagle Rock Sentinel). Then during a couple of summers I worked on my sister’s and brother-in-law’s thoroughbred horse ranch. My overall impression was that work can be hard and not that much fun and somehow there’s got to be a better way to live and work.

Upon high school graduation my father got me a job immediately. I guess he feared I’d dilly-dally if I didn’t immediately get a job. Our neighbor across the street was a maintenance man for Van de Kamp’s bakery and restaurant in Glassel Park and knew of an opening in their drive-in restaurant, so I went and got my first job after graduation as a fry cook. I actually did okay and liked the work and had fun working with the people there. Never thought I’d be a cook before that, but it was fun.

When the drive-in closed I tried a couple of other restaurants but it was not the same. At Tiny Naylor’s restaurant ( through a connection my sister had with the owner) I lasted one day (I didn’t care for the job), then at McDonald’s in Glendale I lasted a week or so before quitting. Not fun at all. By now I’m thinking that I’d better find something interesting to do with my life or this type of misery will be my lot in life. I’m thinking, wow, a lot of people just put up with this to survive. Is this life? I’d better do some serious thinking about what I’m going to do with the rest of my life .

My list of odd jobs continued. I worked in a packing plant owned by a man in my church. Also at a mailing service run by church friends. In college I was a cashier and food checker in a nice restaurant on Lake Union in Seattle. One summer I was a door-to-door salesman selling vacuum cleaners (rather expensive Electrolux brand) and I actually sold a few! Even had a Mrs. Robinson like experience ( the movie “The Graduate”), but escaped just in time.

One of my favorite jobs was as a busboy at the Yosemite Lodge Cafeteria at Yosemite National Park in 1972. I also worked as a chaplain there in a ministry job that I signed up for while in seminary that year. It was a beautiful place to work for the summer.

In college I worked as a caretaker/night watchman at a mortuary and actually had an apartment in the mortuary. I assisted the undertakers when needed. And, yes, it was an eerie place to live. In seminary I worked at a cleaning service cleaning dental offices, cleaning floors, etc. I did not like that job at all.

So, all of these memories came back to me and it made me think about what were the lessons I learned from all these jobs I tried out in my youth. Some jobs were actually sort of fun, some not fun at all. I learned that I wanted to do something interesting with my life. These jobs gave me compassion for people who feel stuck in some of these jobs. Compassion for those who are living at poverty level and develop negative attitudes about life and work because of the unpleasant jobs they feel stuck in.

The main lesson I learned was go find an interesting line of work. Go for it. Do what you want to do. Make your life fun and interesting. Don’t be influenced by anybody who has negative vibes or advice. Never. Do your thing. If you are a spiritually inclined person you could say or realize that something bigger than you is directing your path daily and it will all work out. That’s the conclusion I eventually came to. It took a long time and a lot of experience, but life did work out spectacularly.

Wally

Okay, like many, well, at least some people, I’m weird in some ways, I admit that. I will share one weirdness I have that many who know me probably are not aware of. In previous blog posts I mentioned how I became enamored of aviation. and the desire to be a pilot. That occurred in my childhood when I took my first ride in an aircraft ( a Delta Airlines DC3 in the 1950’s) At that point in my life I fell in love with aviation and flight. I now realize that interest/love/obsession (?) is in my blood. It truly is in my blood. I don’t know how that happens. I’m just reporting a weirdness acquired at an early age.

If you’ve read earlier blogs, you know I followed through with my interest in aviation, becoming a commercial pilot, a flight instructor, ground instructor and working for an airline for thirty-three years. Those may be the facts of my working and personal life, but I want to talk about the internal life of being a pilot in my mind all the time. It does make me different from most people in so many ways. I feel a bit weird about all this.

My current circle of friends are not pilots. They may know my past and several have flown with me as I flew them around in my airplane when I had a part-ownership in a fling club with several airplanes. We shared many fun adventures in the sky a long time ago.

But even though I am not currently piloting now in my life, my mind is always in the heavens, up there in the deep blue sky. I am always aware when a plane or helicopter flies overhead. I always investigate what type of plane it is. I can often tell what airline it is if it’s low enough), and if it’s a helicopter, I know if it’s a police helicopter or a fire department or coast guard chopper. Also, I’m very familiar with the Children’s Hospital helicopter and several others. It’s just what I do. I cannot ignore any aircraft in my environment . Do friends I’m with turn their attention to what’s flying overhead? No, it’s usually just an annoying noise to them.

Wherever I am, I am always watching the sky and all cloud formations. You see, a large part of pilot training is the study of meteorology, weather. I am amazed at some of the cloud types and formations I spot and see what is happening in the atmosphere. It’s fascinating to me but of no interest or even boring to most other people.

Which brings me to another point in discussing my “weirdness.” When I fly on airlines, I’m the one person in ten million, I think, who wants to see outside the airplane. I study the clouds, I study the geography, I study the sea and the waves, I’m investigating everything, even the aircraft parts and what’s happening ( power changes, slight course corrections, etc.) I have had three situations where an engine blew and emergency procedures were activated. Okay, those situations did get a few other passengers interested in things! But it drives me crazy that almost everyone wants the window shades down as they have no interest in what’s outside. I’m just the opposite (i.e. “weird!”)

When there is an air disaster, it gets my attention as a pilot. Given some facts, I can usually make a good guess at what happened. I know a full investigation is necessary before any real conclusions can be made, but I can usually make a good guess early on. I did say usually, but sometimes big surprises await the outcome of the investigation.

I know the significance some airplane crashes have had on aviation and upgrading safety procedures so we have a safer aviation environment today than we had years ago. I was only eight years old at the time of the midair collision over the Grand Canyon of the United Airlines and TWA planes, but I remember like it was yesterday. That crash in 1956 brought about big changes in aviation and air traffic control. The 1942 crash of TWA flight 3 into Potosi Mountain just west of Las Vegas killing Hollywood star Carole Lombard fascinates me and I’ve done a lot of research on it. I could go on and on, but you get the idea, I’m an aviation “nut.” Some people are movie fanatics, some music nuts, some are sports-crazed. We all have our strong, perhaps obsessive interests.

So, that briefly explains this one particular weirdness of mine. Oh, yes, I probably have others. Maybe I’ll cover other oddities of my life at another time.

Wally