Memoirs of a Navy Dad
/Parenting is challenging. Anyone who has raised children knows it isn’t all peaches ‘n cream. There are good times, and times best forgotten. However, all of those times are priceless.
My wife, Jean and I were fortunate to have four healthy children: two girls and two boys. We often thought it a Mendelian model: two girls, two boys; to blondes, two brunettes; two with blue eyes, two with brown; two tall, two not so tall; two slim, two not so slim. All of the traits were divided amongst the sexes; even Gregor Mendel would marvel at the distribution
All of those children were challenging, but the younger boy was especially so. (Since I’m writing this I can say, “he took after his mother”). Though challenging, some of his antics remained the most memorable.
Both boys served in the United State’s Navy. The older boy, Thomas became a Naval Officer, while the younger boy, John enlisted and remained a “swabby.” Thomas made the Navy his career, but John retired after a four year period that spanned the Persian Gulf conflict.
Our swabby was stationed in San Diego as a member of the flight deck crew on the USS Okinawa. There he displayed a social butterfly personality acquired during his adolescent years. He was popular with both navy personnel and members of the marine contingency aboard the ship.
It was his socializing that made him challenging. He could finish off a package of cigarettes before lunch and drink the best of them under the table any day of the week. He would leave the ship in an evening and call home (collect) from the end of the pier at two o’clock in the morning on his way aboard. Usually the voice was slurred, indicated a dislike for current conditions, and contained an apology that sounded like, “I love you.”
Though generally popular, there were special friends. One friend, Russ would become a lifelong buddy. They created memories from Australia, to The Philippines. Oh, the tales they would tell.
My introduction to Russ was via telephone. The conversation is indelibly etched in my brain:
“Mr. Scarry?”
“Yes”
“My name is Russ Rogers, I’m a friend of your son John.” Those were the days before telemarketers, so I let the conversation continue.
“John is being detained by the Tijuana police.”
“What the hell did he do?”
“We broke into a zoo and he took an exotic animal.”
“He did what?”
“Hi dad,” the new voice was very familiar.
“What’s happening?”
“April Fool.”
“I’m gonna’ kill you guys”
“We’ve got to go, dad. ‘have some more calls to make.”
“Mr. Scarry, this was John’s idea.”
Like many of John’s friends Russ turned out to be a fun person to be around. We often referred to him as “Russ Rogers American Sportsman” following a get together hunting trip where we spent more time drinking and laughing than we did hunting.
Once a year John and his buddies meet, swap tales, and reminisce about “days on the boat,” and about adventures while on leave. Listening to their tales gives me the vicarious experience of being one of my son’s shipmates as well as his dad. From this I can relish the thought that each of our four children provides a collection of memoirs; such is the reward of parenthood.
To all parents that there be:
“Fair winds and a following sea.”
By Robert L. Scarry
From: United States
Twitter: usnavy1990
Facebook URL: www.facebook/robert.scarry.3