Growing Up: Age 8-12; Falls Church, VA

We moved to Fall Church from South Carolina (see my Age 5-8; Isle Of Palms, SC post) because my father, a naval officer, was transferred every 2-4 years. While my parents looked for a house we stayed for a couple of months in an apartment on a farm – this was where I first encountered television. As it was the summer and before daylight savings time was thought of, my sister Claire and I were outside with jars looking for fireflys. When we went near the owner’s house, we saw a window flickering and heard strange voices; it was a black and white television playing Kukla, Fran and Ollie, a puppet show. The next day Claire and I asked the owner about it and they invited us in to see it; of course, we told our parents about it and hoped we could get one.

The house they found was in Falls Church; it had two bedrooms and an undeveloped attic. My father, an engineer, was good with tools and converted the upstairs into a TV room with a bedroom for me beyond it. This gave me a new way of not going to sleep when I should. For years, I’d read under the covers with a flashlight – listening for my parents so I could turn it off and pretend sleep. Now, I found a place in the back of my closet to drill a hole to watch the TV. Unfortunately, when one of my parents checked on me I didn’t have time to return to bed. They filled the hole and I returned to my flashlight.

Sindbad, a Springer Spaniel

Sindbad came from a breeder near Falls Church. As he grew, he became very personable and began to explore the world. In the early 1050s he could roam free, which was good as our back yard wasn’t fenced and he wasn’t neutered – few dogs were at the time. He had something on his collar with our phone number; every week or two we would get a phone call in the early evening to come get him from someone’s house – frequently the home of a female dog.

Like many dogs, Sindbad disliked the mailman; he barked at him and looked like he wanted to bite. However, the mailman had made friends with one of the dogs on his route. When the dog’s owners were out of town the dog stayed with the mailman – and went on the mail route. When Sindbad barked, the dog pushed through the screen door and beat him up in his own living room. That mostly stopped the barking at the mailman.

After a couple of years we fenced in the backyard. Sindbad, of course, was expected to stay in the yard. But the “springer” part of his breed name was apt; he could easily jump the fence. (We had accidentally trained him to jump by confining him in the kitchen when he was a puppy. The barrier in the door wasn’t high enough, so we gradually increased it.) When he chased a bird – he loved chasing birds – he would run the length of the block, soaring over the fences.

School was close enough that I could walk, but it was in a different county – which became important. Sindbad tried to follow me to school, so we kept him in the house until I’d been gone a while. No fool, he followed other kids. I’d be sitting in class and suddenly hear his nails clicking in the hallway, then he’d come around the corner and greet me. The teacher would send us to the office, where I’d call my mother to come get him. The “different county” was important because the dog catcher of the school’s county wouldn’t cross the other county to pick him up, and the surrounding county’s dog catcher wouldn’t go on the school grounds. At least we didn’t have to pay for his release every time he found me, and we learned to keep him in the house until all kids had gone to school.

When we went on a trip without him, he was left at a nearby kennel. He resented this: every time we returned to pick him up he sat in the back seat, looking out the window and grunting his indignation. He ignored us for the rest of the day. As you will see in some future posts, he was a very human dog.

First Time Camping

As I was in the Cub Scouts, I read about and dreamed of camping gear – and received a sleeping bag for my birthday. Perhaps partly because of this, my parents decided that we should try camping so we could travel at less cost. We went to some park – I don’t remember where – we had two surplus pup tents, my sleeping bag, and two blankets for four people. Claire had one blanket, my parents shared the other, and I had my sleeping bag. When we went to bed Sindbad got cold and crawled down to the bottom of my sleeping bag – below my feet, as I was short – and curled up. After a while he came up and laid down next to me with just his nose out of the bag, and this is how we spent the rest of the night. (We planned better for later trips. I don’t know how this could have occurred, as my father normally planned perfectly.)

At breakfast, we discovered that we had bacon, three eggs, and potatoes. My father combined them: he fried the bacon and removed it from the pan; then he fried the cut-up potatoes in the bacon grease; next he poured off the excess grease and added the broken-up bacon and the eggs, and scrambled them all together. We loved it, and it became our standard camping breakfast. (I can taste it as I’m writing this.)

Decades later, my wife Paula and I went camping with her brother and his wife, their family and friends, and two of our friends. I had told Paula of the standard breakfast and, despite her dislike of grease, she – probably reluctantly – went along with my plans. Our friends had a large (4’ by 2’) gas griddle that they brought along. So I made a gigantic version of the scrambled egg concoction. To her surprise, Paula loved it and our friends loved it too. The others smelled it and came by. They sampled it and brought back more of the ingredients for me to cook. In total, we probably used three dozen eggs, three pounds of bacon, and five pounds of potatoes – and it turned into brunch. That was the only time that Paula and I camped, it was properly memorable.

Leaving for Guam

My father’s next assignment was at the shipyard on Guam, which is the far side of the Pacific Ocean – a two week voyage from San Francisco. The Navy sent movers to pack us up, but it was still a lot of work, and they needed more supervision then they received: When we unpacked, we found the moldy remains of breakfast. We planned to drive across the US, camping along the way. As I was packing my books, I decided to leave some for the next kid to use the room. I placed them under the bottom drawer in the chest of drawers my father had built into the eave, and left a note telling where they were. I always wondered if they were appreciated.

May 15, 2020

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *