l

Who am I?
Who am I going to be?
What am I going to do?
Will I be like my dad and my brother?
Will I have an interesting life?
Who knows the answer - Who?
An Engineers Quest - In Search of Our Creator
Part I
My Life & Selected Writings
My name is M. Dean Keller
November 2012
2
3
To the United States Air Force:
You took a young kid, still wet behind the ears, placed him in the company of real men, drilled him, taught him, gave
him responsibility and shaped the rest of his life. For this I am eternally grateful. I learned discipline, cooperation, laugh-
ter, a feeling of belonging and, in combat, fear - but without quitting. I had a band of brothers who were there to drive me
on and lift me up when I needed it. In the Air Force I started the long journey in my search for my Creator. I was encour-
aged to go to college and given the means to do so. I did not obtain riches, which are so shallow, but did well and served
my country as an engineer for over four decades and learned what it is like to love and serve my Creator and my fellow
citizens of the world .
I had many brothers in the Air Force, some of whom did not come home. Gerry, my best buddy and Tom, whose crew
took over our crews room, and many others made the supreme sacrifce. I will remember and I will never forget!!
Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At em boys, Give er the gun! (Give er the gun now!)
Down we dive, spouting our fame from under,
Off with one helluva roar!
We live in fame or go down in fame. Hey!
Nothingll stop the U.S. Air Force!
Minds of men fashioned a crate of thunder,
Sent it high into the blue;
Hands of men blasted the world asunder;
How they lived, God only knew!
Spirits of men dreaming of skies to conquer
Gave us wings, ever to soar!
With scouts before and bombers galore. Hey!
Nothingll stop the U.S. Air Force!
Heres a toast to the host
Of those who love the vastness of the sky,
To a friend we send a message of his brother men who fy.
We drink to those who gave their all of old,
Then down we roar to score the rainbows pot of gold.
A toast to the host of men we boast, the U.S. Air Force!
Off we go into the wild sky yonder,
Keep the wings level and true;
If youd live to be a grey-haired wonder
Keep the nose out of the blue!
Flying men, guarding the nations borders,
Well be there, followed by more!
In echelon we carry on. Hey!
Nothing will stop the U.S. Air Force!
The United States Air Force
This book is a collection of poetry, essays, a book report, and miscellaneous other items of interest to
the author. Much is recently written as remembered by or obtained from documents and pictures in the
possession of the author. Every possible effort has been made to assure truth and accuracy and to avoid
hurting any person mentioned.
All persons mentioned, dead or alive are actual persons with accurate names.
by M. Dean Keller.
Any part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or
otherwise, if it is being used for non-proft reasons or being used to
spread Gods love or inspire others.
4
Have you ever wanted to relive your life? What if? What if?? What if?? - There are always the what if questions that arise. And
as you think, dream, wonder and guess - you come back to reality and realize where you are now, what you have done, and if you could
have changed anything, would the change have resulted in good or bad? I am happy with where I am now and content that my contri-
butions, although small, to this third rock from the sun known as Earth have been more for good than evil; more for love than hate;
and more pleasing to my Creator than displeasing. All things work for good for those who love God, and my love for my Creator has
improved with age. The start to a couple of poems that I have written has this preamble:
In a small way I have taken a journey back through time, and visited old friends and places with the aid of much information and
pictures that I, the king of pack rats, have in my possession. Many of my old friends (and adversaries) are gone now, but they still live in
my heart. The love for them that I had then still lives, and I know that they are more alive than I am, in our Creators dimension - which
is the really- real, ultimate reality.
Over the last eight decades, my adventures have included being a child with an innocent view of all, growing up, a student, an airman
in combat, a student again, an engineer, a husband, a father, a poet, and now a senior citizen. Sunrise, sunset! My experiences during this
time have included love, hate, pain, joy, courage, fear and all of the many emotions to which man is subject.
Writing this autobiography will probably be the last major task that I undertake in this life. I have enjoyed doing so, even though
writing some parts have been through tears. The memories that have come to me during this adventure and the joy that many of them
bring to me is worth the sadness that I have experienced at times.
I have placed much of my life in the open with smiles and warts showing. I have tried to avoid any episodes which would have hurt
anyone, unless it was necessary to show the good that came from it.
I have fewer days ahead of me than I have behind me - an understatement - and I am at peace with most of my fellow travellers in
this adventure called life. And I am at peace with my Creator.
Thanks: Special thanks go to my wife Jean for aiding me in the development of this autobiography in addition to making the last
twelve + years the happiest in my life. To my son Steve, and his wife Mary, for taking me in when I was at my lowest point and helping
me not only to survive but also to live joyfully. Thank you Barbara Benton for choosing Jean to be the Editor of the Eastern Star Jour-
nal, thereby making me develop writing skills with an advanced journalist computer program. Some of the many who also helped were
Debbie Mewbourne, my Angel in Oncology, who was always there for me and for the other angels at the Cancer Care Center who
prove every day that they really are angels; and those wonderful people at Jeans church, especially Barbara Swayze and Scott Wigton
who encouraged me when others were silent. Also, Jessica Lanterman Nishizuka who read through this whole manuscript and corrected
many errors in English, Spanish and Japanese. And most emphatically thank you Sarah Norris for reading through the whole document,
giving me an honest opinion of its desirability as a source of reading enjoyment and also correcting many faws.
And thank You my Heavenly Father for guiding me through the rough times so that I may not only experience joy in my latter days,
but also be able to praise You with my most humble talents.
I pray that this effort is pleasing to You.
We have one beginning, from mothers womb,
We arrive as a gift from God.
There are many forks in the road of life
As along this road we trod.
At each fork we must decide,
The path that we must follow.
Some paths are flled with joy and love,
Other paths are painful or hollow.
These paths together are our life,
Will they be barren or full?
What circumstance at each fork in the road,
To the left or to the right will pull.
A few months ago, about 4:00 am, I woke up and words were dancing in my head They were spoken to me, not
audibly, but to my brain. After receiving the answer, I got out of bed and went to the computer to record it. They were
in answer to a question that I had asked my Creator. How long will I have to remain in this life? I have transposed the
answer that I received to the frst person.
It is my duty and pleasure to remain on earth as long as I can; to enjoy my wife, fam-
ily and friends and to enjoy the wonderful world which our Creator has given to us.
Also, to help, love and spread Gods love to all with whom I come in contact.
It is my desire to return to my Creator to enjoy His love and the love of all those who
have gone before.
=======================================================================================
5
Pictorial
The greatest gift that God can give to man is the gift of life and freewill.
Asking only that, in return, man will give to his Creator his gift-
a life, with two steps forward, one step back, in the pursuit of Gods will
and in the service of his fellow travellers.
By M. Dean Keller, A most humble servant of God.
Dad, WW1
Dad, WW2 Chuck, WW2 Dean, Korean War
Dean, Yokota AFB
Dean, Yotota AFB
6
Table of Contents
US Air Force - Pictorial - Table of Contents 1-4

The Earliest Day - My Great Great Grandfather 5

The Early Days 6 - 8

A Little Bit about my Family 9- 22

First Love 23- 26
The United States Air Force 27-38
My Experience with the Japanese People 39-44
Spiritual Aspects of my Japanese Adventure 45-47
Discharge, School, Marriage, Starting Work 48-52
A New Adventure; Los Alamos National Lab 53-62
Spiritual Adventures in Los Alamos 63-68
My Three Sons 69-77
Retirement- Seismic Hazards Investigation 78-80
Across the Big Pond - the United Kingdom 81-82
Sweden and Paris 83-90
Winter in Hawaii, 1967 91-99
Jefferson H. S. Reunion 100
Winter Comes 101
Maria 102-107
Tulsa Town 108-114
Travel 2004 From Ocean to Ocean 113-114
Travel 2004 North-East United States 115-118
Travel 2004 South-West United States 119-120
The Wedding of my Granddaughter, Deana 121-123
Overview - Medical Adventures 124
As Time Goes By - My Un-Pink Toe 125
My Pink Toe 126-132
The Angels in Oncology 133
Coping With Medical Adventures 134-136
It Only Takes a Spark 137
Pictorial - Happy Birthday Jean 2008 138-139
What is a Friend, Humbug, Happy Nifty 140-141
Thrifty Fifty Birthday
Do Not Grieve the Holy Spirit - First Do No 142-143
Harm - In the Garden
Painting on the Canvas of Time 144
Fantasy - Dance of a Plastic Bag
Back Cover - Synopsis 146
Something to Think About
Our Creators abode is infnite in all directions and time does not exist. Our universe was created from
energy activated by time and is in our Creators abode, suspended in space, possibly with many more universes
similar or vastly different from ours. There is one Creator, but possibly many universes. We do not have a need
to know.
Religion on this planet started long ago when man began to think, possibly 200,000 years or maybe as late
as 30,000 years ago. The 30,000 year concept has been strongly suggested by burial items found in excavations
at Cro-Magnon burial sites. We probably started with the worship of great mountains, volcanoes, the sun and
among those who chose to listen to the quiet voice of their Creator speaking to them one God who loves them!
Man has a way of changing things sometimes for the good and sometimes for the bad. A person, having
different concepts did not believe what more enlightened persons did. He changed the image of God and sub-
stituted his own ideas. He broke from the original group, which may have been right or wrong, and formed his
own group, which may have been right or wrong. This went on for tens of thousands of years with man killing
man for an idea which may be right or wrong. Because of our fnite mind trying to understand our infnite spiri-
tual Creator, no one was completely right or wrong. The Creators message was Love, Peace, Truth and Joy and
anything else was superfuous. And so it is today.
We have one Creator: We have many religions: We have about 40,000 denominations in Christianity, some
claiming that they have the whole Truth. We have a world with roughly 200 countries on fve continents. At the
last count there were over eight billion people living on this planet. Our Creator speaks to every one. Many are
spoken to by the voice within, but few choose to listen. There will continue to be hundreds of thousands of reli-
gions which will disagree with each other and fght each other, but those who listen to the inner voice will have
Love, Peace, Joy and Truth. Persons like St. Francis of Assisi and Mohandas Gandhi are excellent examples of
those who have listened to their inner voice.
7
My Heart
My heart is awed within me when I think
Of the great miracle that still goes on,
In silence, round me- the perpetual work
Of Thy creation, - fnished, yet renewed.
Forever, Written on thy works I read
The lesson of Thy own eternity.
Lo! All grow dark and due: but see again,
Now on the faltering footsteps of decay,
Youth pressed- ever gay and beautiful youth.
In all its beautiful forms. The lofty trees
Wave not less proudly, that their ancestors
Moulder beneath them. Oh! There is not lost
One of earths charms: upon her bosom yet,
After the fight of untold centuries,
The freshness of her far beginning lies,
And yet shall his life mock the idle hole
Of his arch enemy Death; yea, seats himself
Upon the sepulcher, and blooms and smiles
And, of the triumph of his ghastly foe,
Makes his own nourishment, for he came forth
From thine own bosom, and shall have no end.
By Charles A. Dean
Fit Night
Fit night, indeed, for studying now,
As I sit with stern, contracted brow.
The glimmering lamp, with its fickering fame,
Told of the poets immortal fame.
I sat and scanned the pages learned,
And thought, as I carefully, over, turned,
If Grecian Bards of olden time
Who wrote the thoughts of Gods in rhyme:
Of their mighty power and how they swayed
The world, more than the gleaming blade.
The noble tongue of ancient Greece,
Has sung the songs of war and peace.
Yet! Bard. Who sang of Trojan now,
Ill snatch the laurel from thy brow;
Ill take that tongue of far report,
To which the verses oft gave court;
Ill bend its sweetness to my will.
Through it, all earth my praise shall fll.
By Charles A. Dean
A Dream
The Vesper song had long been sung,
And heaven with dismal shadows hung.
The songs of air had crossed to ring,
Their notes of praise to heavens King.
Earth, enveloped in darkest gloom
Deemed not a home, but a dreary tomb;
The Forrest, topped with tempest might;
As ocean turn by Aeolus right,
Groaned, and raised its brawny arms,
As if entranced by spirit charms.
The owl, dull harbinger of might,
Pursued his prey with sharpest sight;
And like the fabled bird of old,
That sat enthroned, on a spire of gold.
Or like the grizzly Forrest king
Whose thundering voice doth terror bring;
Adds to the dismal gloom around,
While terrors bin in all abound.
By Charles A. Dean
Charles Albert Dean Jan 8, 1837- July 22, 1891
Married Emma A. E. Allen April 25, 1865
Emma Adelia Elizabeth Allen- Oct 22, 1848- May 30, 1896
GGM and GGF of Chuck and Dean Keller
The Earliest Day
Dr, Charles A. Dean was a Surgeon attached to United States
Army, Headquarters, Department of the Gulf. He was stationed
in Baton Rouge, Louisiana after the Civil War, where he met and
married Emma Allen.
Going back more than 100 years
Searching for the poet in the family
8
Where do I start? I have to start soon because at my ad-
vanced age, with a nickname of The Old Goat, one does
not know how long the body or the mind will last. I have
a lot of material from my life as an Engineer who lived an
interesting life with pain or pleasure here and there and
many tears but even more laughs. This is my Quest. I guess
Ill have to start in the beginning.
In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with
God and the Word was God- Oh! Oh! This is a little earlier
than I was planning, and isnt there a book already written
that starts with those lines? Also, this is talking about infn-
ity, and one divided by infnity is zero. That is the begin-
ning. Are you confused yet?
New Orleans, Louisiana. Born January 7, 1932 in the
middle of the big depression to Clarence E. and Hazel Dean
Keller. Name had to have my uncles name (mothers
brother) included and my mothers maiden name, and of
course my dad has the honor or bestowing on me my last
name. So, McBurney Dean Keller. No, I did not like it. So
I became Mac (the knife) to my friends and others as well.
I had a normal birth and a brother who was born in 1923,
Clarence Elmo Keller Jr., obviously named after our father.
He really wasnt a junior though; dad was born on August
15, 1894 and the computer must not have been backed
up and they lost his birth records. We learned, later, that
dad was Clarence Elmore Keller, so my brother, Chuck
wasnt really a junior although he carried the name for 79
years.
I do have a frst memory. We lived on West End Blvd.
in New Orleans for the frst few years of my life. To the
west of West End Blvd. there was a canal which was used
to bring produce from Lake Pontchatrain south to distribu-
tion points. Barges loaded with watermelons would go
down this canal. Chuck was part of an unoffcial gang
known as the West End gang. One of the capers that
the gang pulled was to requisition watermelons. There
The Early Days
would be a guard on the barges who could jump from barge
to barge, to keep the kids away. When the gang struck,
a couple of kids would harass the guard on the other side
of the barge while a couple more would pull a side stake
out of the barge, which causes some melons to fall into
the water. One day they were engaged in this endeavor
not knowing that a Times Picayune reporter with a camera
was watching them. I was told that Chuck and his buddies
made the front page of the paper, as this skillful reporter
published the epic story of watermelon snatching on the
high seas. I, of course, was too young and too innocent to
participate or even to understand any of these happenings.
Chucks ability to keep the family supplied with water-
melon is not in my memory except by tales from mom and
dad as an example of what not to do, or gleefully told to me
by Chuck. My frst memory is of running to meet my dad
while he was walking home on West End Blvd. I ran to him
on the sidewalk, and fell and hit my head. I had stitches
and the scar was visible for many years. The scar I remem-
ber.
So my adventure is started. No one will be fown in
from out of state to tell part of the story, but there will be
happenings and essays and poetry that have fowed from
my typewriter over the many years. Well start with some
poetry that I had written during the war (World War II), and
that is obvious in the frst two poems, one written while I
was a paperboy and the second (Peace in War), written
about 1946, refecting my opinion of war after growing up
during one (age 10 to almost age 13). Peace in War has
been modifed to refect a more generic war rather than
the one I in which I grew up. It must not have impressed
me too much, as I volunteered for combat while in the Air
Force during the Korean War. And guess what? They took
me seriously!
The other two poems were requested by friends of mine
so that they could present them in fulflment of a class as-
signment as their own during their English class.
We are the spirit of America,
We bring the news to your door.
We serve the public, colored or white,
Whether theyre rich or poor.
We are in every section,
North, East, South and West.
Trying to please our customers
And giving our country our best.
We are selling stamps and bonds
To keep our country free,
And helping to build upon
The pillar of liberty.
So let us all pull together
And let our foolishness cease,
Lets buy more stamps and war bonds
And bring closer the glorious peace.
Composed by M. Dean Keller,
214 Harding St. Age 12
N.O. States paper route 801
Published in Crescent City Carrier
(Times-Picayune & New Orleans States Paper routes)
September 1944
Also listed in Honor Roll, for having the highest
report card average in Sub-station 800. WOW
Winning The War
9
Soldiers fghting beneath the stars,
Fighting for they know not what;
Men fghting senseless wars,
And yet,
If you give a thought,
You see Peace in War, or do you?
A soldier thinks of peace
Not in the form of a dove,
But in the sense of feeling safe
In the sense of having love.
He goes out on the battlefeld,
He knows not whether hell return or--
Still he goes out with spirit,
But then, he feels a burn, a bullet,
A small round thing fung from a gun,
Causing a sting, and blood-
Red as the sun shoots out.
And as the soldier sees his life blood run away,
He opens his lips and tries to say:
Oh God, let there be peace.
But there is Peace in War, or is there?
Look at a small island in the sea,
To Japan it was a key.
It looks so beautiful with its lapping waves;
Great Suribachi, so majestic, palm trees that wave.
Whod think that once this beach had been red with blood?
And Iwo Jima had caused the death of many men,
On both sides..
The cannons roared, the shells poured,
The screams of dying men were drowned out,
You could not hear your own self shout.
But There is Peace, for after, all is quiet.
A new fag waves over Suribachi,
And there, row on row, beautiful are the graves
Of men who died just to cause
Land to be captured, to change a fag,
To try and end more senseless wars.
But there is Peace in War, or is there?
You see tired men, men you know
In ragged clothes and dirty boots.
These men rest, some see a show, but then-
a sniper shoots.
A man falls, blood streams from his head:
Men hide, except a friend,
Who goes to his buddy and says- He is dead.
The hunt is on, they cannot rest,
They must fnd the sniper, unless
he kills another friend.
Hark! A scream, a man come out,
A bloody knife; and he smiled as he said He is dead.
But there is Peace in War, or is there?
Another place, another cry; but it comes from where?
A dying mother near her little girl,
Their death came from the air,
From the air, bombs, men can hurl.
A child looks into the sky and sees death raining down,
She cannot understand why they had to destroy her town.
But still, There is Peace.
A grave in France is so beautiful and
it shall stay that way throughout the years.
But in that grave lies a young man, a soldier, a boy
And at his home there is no joy,
There are only tears.
Then to the killing felds, around the world-
The restful breeze, now caresses the trees-
Spacious plains and lofty mountains leap to the sky,
But just moments, oh a short time before - you heard
Boys, men, girls, mothers all victims lift their hearts and cry
As through the pain of torture, starvation and more
They lifted their hearts above and gave up,
to fnally rest in peace, at last, to die.
Now you can see their bones being bleached by the sun,
For they live no longer, their pain is gone, their life is done.
There is no Peace in War
There is only HELL!
Peace In War
I do not remember exactly when Peace in War was
written, but it was after World War II and Chuck was home
again. My souvenirs were a Japanese helmet and bayo-
net, some Japanese money, a few war stories, and my big
brother back again. He and my sister-in-law, Pat, were
married on September 4, 1943 and were now on a second
honeymoon. A friend of mine knew a person who was a
writer by profession, and we took this poem to him to see if
he liked it. He did, and even sent it in to a publisher for us.
However, the war was over, the next war had not started,
and war poems were not in demand. So it was back to my
paper route, going to a school dance when I could get up
the courage, and trying to fnd out why girls were here.
Young Dean with Chuck,
right behind his head,
and Pat to Chuckss
right. The dog is Buttons
Meditating
With a friend
Pat & Dean
Pat and Chuck
were married on
September 4, 1943
9
l0
Thanksgiving
Once more my friends, Thanksgiving is here,
And the poor turkeys end is a drawing near.
There are holidays for children,
Thats all they care.
But Thanksgiving came from someplace,
I wonder where.
Twas in the new world many years ago,
The settlers worked hard, still most of them were po(or).
Yet compared to Europe they were really living.
So they all got together and started Thanksgiving.
Indians came from far and wide
White man and red man walked side by side.
Friends and enemies were in a friendly mood
Except to fght over that thanksgiving food.
They thanked the Lord for their food
They thanked the Lord for their homes.
They asked the Lord to bless
The poor man that roams.
They asked for blessings on the sick
And blessings on the well.
They asked to be steered towards heaven
And away from hell.
Yet today we have more to be thankful for,
For we have the greatest blessing of all.
The Lord took mercy on His children,
When He sent us Hadacol.
In Answer To Nancy Hanks
Yes, we know your son.
Big in stature, thought and soul.
Brain of wisdom, heart of gold.
His education was good, though plain,
He hated to see another man in pain.
A great man among great men,
A true Christian, a loyal friend.
Yes, he got to town and fame,
And everyone learned to love his name.
He went on all right
To help his fellow men to fght
So that a slave, no man would be,
And everyone could shout Im Free!
Where is he now? In the hearts of all,.
Although his mortal shell did fall,
His memory lives on and on.
Mostly legend now is it based upon.
Be proud, Nancy Hanks,
And to your God you should give thanks,
For your son is known wherever men are free,
Abraham Lincoln is the symbol of democracy.
Thanksgiving is as written in the late 1940s for Clem
Sextons assignment in Ms. Schneckenburgers English
class. It broke up the class. Clem read it with a straight
face. Note: Hadacol was a patent medicine which contained
about 12% alcohol. The alcohol was listed as a preserva-
tive, since it was sold in dry parishes. It was advertised to
cure everything. Manufactured by Louisiana State Senator
Dudley J. LaBlanc in Louisiana during the 1940s/50s.
These two poems won 1st and 2nd prizes for those who
read them. I confessed to writing them to Ms. Schnecken-
burger at the 50th Class Reunion in 1998 in New Orleans,
La. She said that was naughty.
The end of innocence - Puberty strikes
Sometime about age 12 to 14 a transition took place. I
had noticed that there were boys and girls, but knew noth-
ing about anything in between, although later I learned that
a very wonderful teacher and then principal of one of our
schools was one of those. Larry, Harold and I would hang
out, and each of us had a motor bike. I had a James 100 cc
motorbike that I bought from Chuck. It was made in Eng-
land and was a beauty. Larry had a Cushman scooter and
Harold had a Wizard, which was a bicycle with a small mo-
tor anchored to the frame. We would ride all over our sec-
tion of Jefferson Parish, and over the Huey P. Long bridge
which went across the Mississippi River, even though gas
was costing twenty three cents per gallon.
But girls were strange. They wore different kinds of
clothes, played with dolls and other silly things and looked
different in bathing suits. With the war going on, we boys
knew that we had to defend our country, so we sold war
stamps, collected scrap and had mock battles with 22 rifes.
We made gas grenades from burned out light bulbs, flled
with ammonia, and other improvised military hardware to
sharpen our combat skills. I wrote to Chuck with a childs
typewriter which you had to turn a wheel to change let-
ters. He was in the Philippines with the Navy working on
aircraft and engaging in close combat. He loved the letters.
I had an afternoon paper route, the New Orleans States,
and every day of the week, including the big paper on Sun-
day, I was delivering papers, fring frecrackers, and talking
to people on my route when the strangest thing happened.
When I was delivering papers to certain houses, young girls
happened to be on the porch waiting to get their paper. I
fgured that must be why girls were so much smarter than
boys in school. They read a lot. These were strange girls,
not like the girls in our neighborhood. They smiled instead
of calling me names and always wanted to talk. Then I met
Mary Harrell, who had a brother, Bob, who was in college.
He taught me the poem The Cremation of Sam McGee.
There was something different about Mary. Puppy love
had struck!!!!! It was great! But the most we ever did was
stand side by side with my arm around her and her head
next to mine and it dont get no better than that! Then,
after others, came Marilyn. Starting on page 25 is a poem
which gives a brief synopsis of part of the rest of my life.
l0
ll
A Little Bit about my Family
Although I said that this was all about me, it isnt. I had
a regular family with much beauty and some faults. We
were close, but yet far away at times, especially my brother,
Chuck, and me. The nine years difference in age and dif-
ferent locations that we were in, due to our ages and world
events caused us to often be apart. By the time I was eight
years old, he was seventeen, going to Fortier High School,
graduating in 1941, and playing the trombone in the school
band. I was playing with lesser toys. Also, he was play-
ing with girls and I did not know why they were here. On
January 30, 1942, Chuck enlisted in the Navy and distance
for most of our lives became the great separator.
The house shown above-center, located at 214 Hard-
ing Street, was purchased from Security Building & Loan
Association on August 18, 1938 for $4,500. This was to be
repaid in installments of $26.33 at 5% interest. It was paid
for by November 23, 1955. It was a three bedroom, one
bath residence with a side screened porch and garage. In
that home mom and dad had the front bedroom, then down
a hall, with the bathroom on the south side, was another
bedroom for my grandmother, Nan Dean, and fnally a back
bedroom with bunk beds for Chuck and me. There was a
reasonable large living room with the front door, a dining
room also of a nice size, with a smaller breakfast room
adjacent to the kitchen. The back yard was entered through
a small utility room with the hot water heater and washing
machine. In the back yard there was a septic tank with a
tile feld for many years before a sewage system was put in
by the Parish. This was also the location for the Victory
Garden during World War 2. There was a garage and a
nice size back yard, for those days. Beyond the back yard
was an empty feld where kids could play and where we
raised chickens and rabbits during the war.
Chuck was sharing the back bedroom with me from
1938 thru 1941. The most enjoyable event that we shared
that I remember during that time is that he would take me
to the Triangular Inn on the River Road where he would
treat me to a soda, and that he picked on me as beftting a
big brother. I loved him anyway.
Then came the war years. I was age 9 years plus 11
months when it started. Mom and dad were sitting in chairs
in the front of the radio while I was sitting, cross legged on
the rug as I usually did when I watched, uh I mean, listened
to the radio. We heard the announcement of the attack,
and the declaration of war by President Roosevelt. Chuck
enlisted in the Navy soon afterward and dad became a
member of the navel forces serving on the Mississippi river.
I continued with school and then my paper route. Mom
worked with volunteer services, I dont remember which. I
purchased war stamps and later cashed one in to purchase a
Kodak 5x7 photo enlarger.
A hobby that I had was developing flm (black and
white) and making enlargements of them. I had a surprise
one time in high school A class mate of mine brought me
a roll of flm and asked me to develop and make enlarge-
ments. Since he was a football player, and a friend, I did
so at no charge. It was fun doing favors for my friends.
When I developed the flm I found that one negative was of
a group of my class mates with their pants down, forward
view. Their faces were covered. Well, I made enlargements
and gave them to him. No, I did not keep one for myself.
They were showing it to selected persons around school
with no hint as to where these pictures were developed. At
one showing a young girl looked at the picture and said
thats (name deleted.) I saw him at the fftieth reunion of
the class, and he did not remember that incident. I did not
mention it to the young lady who made the observation, she
was then his wife of many years.
I continued through high school, then through a course
in accounting and business which was given by the Times
Picayune Publishing Company for persons who still deliv-
ered the Times Picayune or New Orleans States newspa-
pers.
-Way Down Yonder in New Orleans-
l2
The next big event in my life was to purchase a James
lightweight motorcycle, made in the UK right after WW II,
from my brother, which I rode all over the parish with my
friends Larry, Harold and Boogalee (Roy) Leblanc.
Harold and Larry lived on the next street to mine, and we
were always together. Boogalees last name was an old dis-
tinguished French name, and he was a real Louisiana boy,
with a strong French accent. We met him one day as we
were riding and he started riding with us. He was a lot of
fun and we were happy to have him along. I only had one
accident with it when I hit a car parked on the highway in
front of Schoffs Bakery after dark with no lights on. I ran
right into the back of the parked car. I wasnt badly hurt but
had to keep my knee stiff for a few days. The bike needed a
new front wheel, but soon was functional again.
It was unfortunate that I had to be raised in a segregated
society, but that was just how it was. One day I accidently
drank from a drinking fountain and then looked up and saw
that it was for colored only. I was shocked, and did not
know what to do. My mother worked at times during my
youth and we had a colored young lady who took care of
me when she was gone. I still have a letter from her that
she wrote to me when I was in Korea. She told me how she
would take me home with her when my mom was going to
be late, and feed me. She loved me and I loved her - my
other mom -Gertrude. One time I asked Gertrude why she
was black, and she answered I just drank too much coffee
when I was a little girl. That was a good enough rea-
son for a little boy who was being held by his black other
mother. It didnt reduce my love for coffee as I grew older.
We had a colored paper boy in our sub-station, and
told him that his place was in a certain location in the area.
We all liked him, and he liked us. When I would get on a
bus and see him, I would go toward the back of the bus and
sit in front of the sign colored only and he would sit in
the frst seat behind the sign so we could talk. We didnt
like it, but thought not too much about it - that is the way it
was. I was never raised to hate, nor to consider that there
M. D. Keller,
U.S. Air Force Korea
C. E. Keller Jr., Navy
WW2 & Korea
C. E. Keller, Sr. Navy WW1
C.E. Keller Sr.
Navy Reserve WW2
was any real difference between people of different colors.
My mother was involved in
politics and ran for school board on
Sheriff Frank Clancys ticket. She
won, and was assigned a district
which had a large black community.
The political and religious leader of
this district was a gentleman called
the Reverent Clay. He and my
mom became good friends and mom
would literally fght for her black
schools. And it was a fght at times,
not like the pansies today who say
they will fght for you and couldnt
fght their way out of a paper bag.
She got them microscopes, books,
supplies and other things that
other members of the school board
said these n.... would not even know how to use. And my
mother was called a N.. lover by those who did not know
that her love extended far past race, religion or position
in society. Dad was the same, but he was less aggressive
than mom - she was a frecracker!!!!! Some things dont
change, for when an election came
up, Reverent Clay would call or
come by and tell mom that she had
500 votes or more from his district.
She could go anywhere in that
neighborhood and not fear harm.
In fact we could all go there and
be safe. Black on black crime was
almost unknown, and the situation
was horrible because of the segre-
gation, but authority from both the
black and white communities were
frm and mostly fair. Freedom and
self discipline have to go together;
neither is of any value without the
other.
Mom at cactus in the
front of the house
Small kitchenette with
kitchen on the left and
dining room to the
front
l3
My paper route in my neighborhood consisted of a
group of streets off of Jefferson Highway in Jefferson Par-
ish. On my route I had middle class people, both upper and
lower in that category. Most were very nice. They were
white and black, young and old, handicapped and ft, and
law abiding and members of the Mafa. I had to collect
for the papers every week, or some by the month, but had
close contact with them. They were not just a porch or yard
that I threw a paper to, they were people. One person who
was always waiting for his paper was Uncle Buddy. He
was in a wheel chair at the corner of Brooklyn Avenue and
Jefferson Highway. He received his paper, we talked for
a moment, and I went on to my other customers. He was
always sitting on a cushion, and I heard that he had a gun
under that cushion. Near the end of the route I delivered the
paper to Carlos Marcello, the head of the Mafa in New Or-
leans. He had a gentleman who answered the door when
I was collecting my 28 cents per week. Never a tip!!!
When I was about 16 years old I was
considered ft for a drivers license. I
learned to drive in our 1936 LaFay-
ette automobile. I drove down Hard-
ing Street, weaving from side to side,
scaring my dad, until I could keep my hands steady on the
steering wheel. But I soon had a drivers license and some-
times even took the car to school.
The public school system in
Jefferson Parish (County to the
rest of the country) consisted of
an elementary school, consisting
of grades 1 through 7, and high
school, grades 8 through 11. I
did not do spectacularly in aca-
demics and did even worse in sports but the subject that I
failed miserably in was girls. I was shy, and scared to death
of them, but somehow wanted to be with them. The girls
were always smarter than the boys, and we only had 28
graduates in our class. I would have been in the top third of
the class except that Dorothy Bergeron and I had the same
academic scores. Since B comes before K, she was put in
the top third and I in the middle third. Since she later mar-
ried John Mendel, I should have demanded a change in the
order. That wouldnt have been any fun anyway, I would
have been the only boy in the top third. I graduated from
high school at the age of 16.
The war ended in 1945 a few months before my 14th
birthday. Chuck came home to us and to his wife, Pat,
whom he had married on September 4, 1943. A neighbor
of ours also came home from the European theater. The
neighbor gave me a German helmet, and Chuck gave me
a Japanese helmet and bayonet. As the war surplus stores
opened we had large military batteries powering bright
chrome lights on our motor bikes. We were - what should
I say - the cats meow. Oh. we were the victors and were
rejoicing in the new peace and no more rationing.
I continued through high school, then through a course
in accounting and business which was given by the Times
Picayune Publishing Company for persons who still de-
livered the Times Picayune or New Orleans States news-
papers. At the end of business school I was nearing 18
years old, and by that time I learned a little about why there
were girls. My experience with love was wonderful and
painful, and played a big part of my next major decision.
About fve months before my 18th birthday I enlisted in
the United States Air Force. For most of my life I had been
separated from my brother by age, war and distance. Now
I was being separated from mom and dad also, for the frst
time in my life. I wouldnt be completely alone; Charles
Gardner and Eddie Newchurch enlisted with me, but were
out of my life before basic training ended. What a buddy
system! I did make many new friends during basic and
for the frst time in my sheltered life I was surrounded by
persons from all parts of the United States, even Yankees (I
was 12 years old before I learned that damn Yankee was
two words - but not from my home). I was also in contact
with many African Americans and had one, Jim Smith, who
was my squad leader He told me that he was smarter than
I was, and that was why he was chosen to be squad leader.
Another African American, Ambrose Thomas a former
prize fghter, was the Flight leader. Ambrose was a most
wonderful person, very gentle and caring for all. I also had
a Jewish friend, Ronald Cohn, who was very devout, and
was often picked on by some other members of the Flight
(about 65 men) for being Jewish. One day he was being
harassed, when I stepped in front of him and stated if you
want to pick on Ronald because he screws up, OK. If you
want to pick on him because he is Jewish, pick on me frst.
I was over six foot-two inches tall and could blow up like
a blow fsh, so they backed down and behaved themselves.
After that, our Flight was assigned to KP (kitchen police)
- somebody has to cook the food, peel the potatoes, wash
the dishes, and this was real military training. Besides, as
inexperienced as we were, we assured that the food was not
ft to eat. On one tour, I was assigned to pots and pans,
which was one of the worst jobs in KP. You had to scrub
enormous pots and pans with hot (thats real hot) water.
When Ronald heard that I had pots and pans, he volun-
teered for the same job. He did this so he could be with me.
He told me that the water was many degrees cooler depend-
ing on the person with whom you were working.
We continued with our training doing push-ups and
numerous other exercises every day. We were up at 5 AM,
or was it 4 AM, to start the day and got to bed early. We
had parties in the barracks - GI parties where you get to
scrub the wood foors until they shine, to clean the latrine
until it glistens, and to scrub every stair until not a spot can
be seen. We learned to fre the 45 caliber pistol, and were
to fre a grease gun, a sub machine gun, but never had the
opportunity. We learned how to wear a gas mask, and how
tear gas felt when you take off the mask in a room full of it.
And at the end we were allowed, within Air Force needs, to
pick our next assignments. I chose to be a radio operator to
be at Keesler Air Force base, near New Orleans.
Jefferson High School
l4
In July of 1946 Chuck reenlisted in the Navy and was
stationed at the Naval Air Station at the Lake front in New
Orleans. So at this time, except for about a year at Keesler
and leaves, we were again separated by distance. Dur-
ing this time he was still an aircraft mechanic with many
administrative duties and supervisory assignments. I was
learning; he was doing. Later on in life, during his last
fve years or so, he made a comment that we were close,
but were separated by age, distance and education. I had
a masters degree in engineering; Chuck was trained in the
Navy, in some of the best schools that could be developed.
I told him that it is not what goes into a person that makes
him a success, but what comes out - and he was as good
an engineer as I was, and most probably better. In the next
few pages our two separate paths will be discussed. Much
of my story is already told in the earlier part of this biogra-
phy, this will be mostly about Chuck, and comparisons.
1949 though 1956 -following similar paths
During these seven years Chuck and I had much in com-
mon but were still often separated by distance. The differ-
ence in age had become less important, although I was still
the little brother and he the big brother. And yes, I did still
look up to him. I enlisted in the peace time Air Force on
August 1, 1949 and my home during this time was Lack-
land AFB, in San Antonio, Texas, Keesler AFB in Biloxi,
Mississippi, MacDill AFB in Tampa, Florida, Randolph
AFB in San Antonio, Travis AFB in California and Yokota
AFB in Fussa, Japan., I was fnally stationed at Fairchild
AFB. in Spokane WA, awaiting discharge. I was in Japan,
fying over Korea from May of 1951 to June of 1952. This
accounts for three years, four months and ffteen days as a
member of the United States Air Force
Chuck had reenlisted in the United States Navy on July
8, 1946 and was stationed at the Naval Air Station in New
Orleans, Louisiana. His accomplishments during this time
were magnifcent and ranged from advanced Navy require-
ments to Flying school to obtain a commercial pilots
licence, to captain of the swim team, and a record breaker
as well, president of the Rebel fying club and writing for
the Naval station for three years, and more and more. All
this with very high grades as well.
We had both completed our combat assignments, Chuck
in the Philippines in WWII, which included hand-to-hand
combat, and on the Oriskany during the Korean war in
relative safety. I had completed my combat missions, about
40 plus, as a radio operator on a RB-29 reconnaissance
aircraft; a Spy in the Sky with the luxury of sleeping in
my own or a similar Air Force bed every night. However,
it wasnt a game. My best buddy, Gerry Johnson, was shot
down on October 23, 1951, and the replacement crew
which took our aircraft and the replacement crew which
took our room were both shot down, the former one month
after I had left, and the other, with Tom Shipp who took my
bed, the radio operator, in October 1952.
From July of 1953 to
December of 1954 Chuck
was in the far east partici-
pating in the Korean war.
His assignment was on the
aircraft carrier Oriskany
(CVA34). The Oriskany
departed San Francisco
14 September 1953 to aid the 7th Fleet watching over the
uneasy truce in Korea, arriving at Yokosuka on 15 October.
Thereafter she cruised the Sea of Japan, the East China Sea,
and the area of the Philippines. After providing air support
for Marine amphibious assault exercises at Iwo Jima, the
carrier returned to San Diego 22 April 1954. Chuck left
the Oriskany at that time and was assigned to Electronics
school in Memphis, Tennessee. I also went back to school,
to Tulane University in New Orleans, starting in February
1953 and completing the courses for my Bachelors degree
in Civil Engineering in May 1956, a total of three years and
three months.
In December of 1954, Chuck, started school in advanced
electronics at the Naval Air Tech Training Center in Mem-
phis, Tennessee. His schooling in electronics, advanced
electronics, section leader, instructor, missile guidance
schooling, and on and on went continuously through 1960,
and beyond. He absorbed all information, improved on the
information given him and became an outstanding elec-
tronics engineer/technician. In the meantime I went on to
obtain my masters degree in civil/structural engineering
from Tulane University and starting amassing experience
in the practice of engineering.
1957 through 1963 - Separated but learning
Locations:
Dean - New Orleans, Mandeville & Slidell in Louisiana
Chuck - Alameda, CA, USS Lexington (sea),
Barbers Pt, HI, Pearl Harbor, HI.
During this period I went from the Corp of Engineers,
to Bedell and Nelson, Engineers, to Prestressed Concrete
Products Company and to the Boeing Company, all in the
New Orleans area, Mandeville and Slidell, Louisiana area.
Chuck went to many excellent Naval training centers and
received on-the-job training at which he always received
excellent ratings, to become the equivalent of any graduate
electrical engineer from any school in the world.
Chuck was way ahead of me at the start of my engineer-
ing career. My subconscious mind was assimilating the
information and my efforts were adequate for a beginner,
but logic had not yet kicked in. After a couple of years of
doing, I had my peers coming to me and presenting me
with engineering problems because they needed someone
who could think logically. Of course, by this time, I was
buying many engineering books through the McGraw Hill
Engineering Book Club, and spending many hours learn-
ing. Soon though, Chuck and I were close enough in age,
l5
relatively speaking, where age didnt matter, and we were
equal in profciency in our chosen felds, with he being
better than I in some areas and vice versa. Distance still
kept us apart, but we were both making contributions to our
professions and earning our keep. Some of our letters of
commendations are included in this story of our lives.
I do not know the exact date of the completion of the
project, nor the completion of the extensive tests, but have
the above picture which places this event in early 1961,
This is confrmed by the letters of commendation and the
letter of recommendation written for his retirement on Oc-
tober 17, 1962, with 20 years of service to his nation.
In December of 1961, at the Naval Air Station in Bar-
bara Point in Hawaii, Chuck was inspecting an aircraft,
and saw a tool which was left on the wing. He climbed up
a scaffold to remove the tool, not knowing that the wheel
locks on the scaffold were not locked. He fell and landed
on his rear and was paralyzed from the waist down. He
was hospitalized at Tripler Army Hospital in Oahu, Ha-
waii. Through good medical treatment and stubborn
determination, which Chuck was noted for, he forced his
body through very painful therapy to improve his physical
Chuck had many successes in his Naval career, but
one of the greatest was the application of his knowledge
and dedication to the design, manufacture, and testing of
the Regulus missile guidance system installed on the F8U
Navy fghter. A civilian organization tried to do this and
came out with a system which would not work, for too
much wasted money while Chuck and his team did it suc-
cessfully the frst time.
condition. He refused medical discharge from the Navy at
Oakland Naval Hospital. He forced himself to walk again
and retired from the Navy as he intended. If he had a medi-
cal discharge I do not believe he could go into the Naval
Reserve back in Louisiana. Continuous problems with his
back forced him to use massive pain medications, have
three major back operations, two of which I assisted him
before and after the operations, and chiropractic services.
Although he was in pain he continued to apply his knowl-
edge while in the Navy Reserve and with other employers
to contribute to the defence of our country.
Chuck retired from active duty and accepted a position
with the Naval Reserve in the New Orleans area, effec-
tive October 17, 1962. For a short period of time, October
1962 until December 1965, we were both were living in the
Slidell, Louisiana area. I was living in a rented house just
west of Slidell and Chuck was living in Pearl River in a
house that they inherited from Pats parents.
I told Chuck about Boeing hiring for quality control, at
which he was an expert, and he applied for and got a job
just a ten minute walk from where I was working. Since
Boeing was just starting up, and all he had to do was read
procedures, he left after a few days. He was a hands on
person who wanted to get into the middle of a project, not
sit around baby sitting pieces of paper. I dont remember
when this was, but he told me that he got a better offer from
the Naval Reserve, so it was probably before the October
17th date given above.
Chuck kept year books for his trips and business en-
gagements, and I was able to read them since I received his
estate. It was sad to read about all the pain and the efforts
he made so as not to affect those who worked with him or
his customers. Many times he had to go to a medical spe-
cialist to ease the pain, before seeing a client.
Chuck and Pat had an Air Stream trailer which they used
to travel to various locations for his work with the Naval
Electronics System Engineering Center. In late 1965, be-
fore I left for my new job in Los Alamos, New Mexico, Pat,
Chuck and Slo-mo, a Hawaiian dog, left for Waco, Texas to
repair or upgrade electronic equipment for the government.
Chuck bent over to get some equipment out of his trunk,
and snapped his back. He was taken to an Air Force base
that was closing down and placed in a bed there. There was
not much that they could do for him since they did not have
the facilities, so Pat called me for help. I took a plane to
Dallas then went from Dallas to Waco in a DC-3. We were
fying low over much farmland, and the back door was
open to the best of my memory. Why? Who knows? But it
brought me back to my Air Force days with the old prop
driven aircraft which you fy by the seat of your pants. We
landed safely and Pat picked me up at the airport. I placed
a call to Joe Ladota, Chucks supervisor and very good
friend, who did not know what had happened to Chuck.
Joe said that they would send a Navy aircraft there to bring
Chuck back to Oschner Foundation Hospital in New Or-
l6
leans, and I could bring Pat and Slo-mo and the trailer back.
OK?! I never had pulled a trailer before. But Pat, Slo-mo
and I got in the front, with me driving, and I took a quick
course in how to hook up a trailer, and maneuver it. And
we were on our way. Sometime later we drove into their
driveway in Pearl River and skillfully parked the trailer. I
never knew that Hawaiian dogs had gas, but I learned a lot
on that trip. A week or so later we put a mattress in our new
Plymouth Station Wagon and brought Chuck home to Pearl
River to recuperate.
In addition to the Naval Electronics System Chuck also
worked for Litton Data Systems and Computer Science
Corp. I have letters of commendation from all of these
organizations but do not want to have this book to be as
long as a dumb congressional bill.
From April 1980 to April 1986 Chuck worked for Saudi
Comm. in Colorado Springs on defence systems for Saudi
Arabia. He was considered second in command on this
project. From April to September 1986 Chuck worked for
Textron Marine as a test engineer and then listed his last
date of employment as September 1987, just about his 65th
birthday. Considering his physical condition and the pain
he endured ever since his accident, this was an heroic ef-
fort.
We visited with Chuck, Pat and Sam (Slo-mos replace-
ment) over the next few years and I was able to help him
when he had to undergo serious operations and with his
income taxes.
At one time, our family was in Los Alamos and Chuck
and Pat were in Colorado Springs. Chuck was fying back
and forth between Colorado Springs and New Orleans. He
was then putting many miles on his automobile going back
and forth from Pearl River to the New Orleans Airport. He
was very cautious when he was locking up his car in the
long term parking lot at the New Orleans Airport, and had
many tricks to keep any potential thieves from learning
what he was placing in his trunk and car.
His assignment in Colorado Springs on the Saudi Com-
munications Test project was to design, build and deliver
an electronic defence system for Saudi Arabia. He was the
acting Technical Manager on the project and was second in
command when the person in charge, Walt Leggett, had to
leave the area.
We visited them in this area and spent time in the petri-
fed forest and other beautiful areas around Colorado. We
also went together on the narrow gage railroad between
Durango and Silverton, Colorado. Doug was with us, so it
was before August, 1976. A letter from Chucks employer
was dated November 17, 1982. He worked there for many
years, and retired in September 1987, so this was his last
full time job. Following are some of the letters/commenda-
tions that Chuck received over his professional career.
l7
Chuck at the New Orleans Naval Base.
Captain of the swim team and award
winning swimmer.
A blast from the past.
Chuck and I were always hard workers. As you can see in this picture, taken
about 1920, our MOM was always ready to put her shoulder to the wheel, or to
take control of the plow, whichever was necessary.
An Old Aero Plane on the Ground
Its just an old airplane
On AROU-2s line.
It never does fy,
Just sits on the ground.
A broken down hack
With no bombs in its rack.
If it ever did fy
It would never come back.
Its done everything that
An airplane can do.
It has bombed the Japs
And strafed them too.
Look on its side,
See the fags painted there-
An old aero plane on the ground.
After the surrender of Japan was
assured, Chuck was ready to go home.
Sitting on the tarmac at a naval base
in the Philippines he looked at the
numerous aircraft awaiting destruc-
tion. He wrote the above song to the
tune of Shanty Town. When he was
home he taught it to me, a 14 year
old. Naturally, I remember it for these
many years. He was surprised that I
still remembered it over 50 years later,
when I sang it for him. Chuck was a
poet, too!
AROU-2 is the Aviation Repair and
Overhaul Unit 2 in the Philippines.
l8
We visited each other, with the
picture above being of Chuck and me
taken in our home in Los Alamos.
Pat and Chuck during the good days in Pearl River, LA. Best
backyard barbecue in town.
Pat and Chuck exchanging their vows again on the 50th wedding anniversary.
Chuck and Pat aboard a ship, but
not in the navy.
Dean. Chuck and Sam, in
Slidell.
Pat and Chuck after Chucks last major
surgery on his back.
Jean, Dean and brother Chuck - visiting him in Slidell, LA
l9
There was a song which was popular during World War II, Johnny Zero. It was about a young man who fell in love
with fying. One verse in that song was He couldnt concentrate on studies, his mind was always in the sky. When he
grew up he left his buddies and Johnny learned how to fy. Chuck loved to fy! When Chuck was visiting us in Tulsa, he
wanted to fy again! This was in August 2001, just a few months before his death. There was a billboard advertisement
on Memorial Drive for an ultralight fying opportunity, with a pilot. So, off we went out of town to fnd this airfeld. We
found it, and Chuck suited up again, just like in the old days, and took to the air with another pilot fying the aircraft. It
was a windy day, and the pilot was a bit concerned since the aircraft was an ultralight, and was thrown around the sky.
But not Chuck, he was in his glory, enjoying the cold, windy - rough fight. Below is a pictorial of the fight, using World
War II nomenclature.
Chuck and pilot, assigned target, prefight
complete, awaiting approval for takeoff.
Taxying down runway on bombing mission.
Aircraft is a much modifed Navy PBY.
In Flight, heading for bombing initial point. Back from a successful bombing run, with a full crew aboard.
Walking away from aircraft for debriefng. Any landing you
walk away from is a good landing!
Ground crew
ready to go to
service aircraft
and patch any
holes in the
wings and fu-
selage caused
by enemy anti
aircraft fre.
Actually taken
in the Philip-
pines during
WW II.
20
On December 6, 1995 I left Los Alamos and arrived
at Chucks house in Pearl River, Louisiana. This was to
assist Chuck as he was experiencing paralysis on his left
side. Connie was driving later to Tulsa to be with Steve
and family for the Christmas holidays. I found Chuck,
Tracy (neighbor) and Monica (nurse) in the house. Chuck
was disoriented, but was glad to see me. He thought he was
still at the rehab center, but couldnt understand how they
brought all of his pictures and other things there. Pat was
in the hospital. I was busy cleaning all parts of the house,
throwing out trash, and setting up the kitchen so that we
could fgure out what bills had to be paid and write out
checks for Chucks signature.
On December 8, a wheelchair van was sent by Home
Health Service for Chuck to visit Dr. Cliford Amedui who
was in charge of Rehab at the Northside Hospital in Slidell.
This doctor gave many reasons why Chuck could not
be treated in Slidell, and paid no interest to the paralysis.
Nothing is good enough for our disabled veterans!! I then
brought Chuck home and showed him that he was home.
He seemed to be more contented. The paralysis on left side
increased. On December 14 we brought Pat home from the
hospital. I had to carry Chuck to his bedroom because his
legs would not function.
On December 15 Chucks legs would not function, and
we called Mary Beth Burchard, RN for a second opinion.
She came to the house and confrmed the fact. I called
Arcadian Ambulance to bring Chuck to New Orleans VA
hospital and had to guarantee payment before they would
take us there. This is after a back operation and different
persons wanted to shift the blame from a possible stroke
to back problems to shift the cost to someone else. Damn
the dollars when they take precedence over the patient. A
doctor, if you want to call her that, checked the back,
and sent Chuck home without even putting the paralysis in
her notes. She said when a veteran has a stroke we just
send them home to get over it. They just left me stranded
in New Orleans but Connie and Jackie (Connies sister)
arranged for me to be picked up and obtain a rental car. I
got back to the house in Pearl River while the ambulance
was still there. The next three days were spent getting food,
picking Chuck up off of the foor because he wanted to get
out of bed, and taking care of all kinds of things.
On December 19 an ambulance was at the house at 7:30
AM and I followed the ambulance in my car. We fnally
met a real doctor; he looked like he came from India, who
listened and ordered a cat scan of Chucks head. There
were a number of idiotic doctors who kept saying not my
patient, until the cat scan was actually done and a Tulane
graduate, Dr. Hirsch, reviewed it. He said he had to operate
tomorrow, because in two more days it would be too late. I
saw the cat scan and the brain was pushed to the left side by
blood on the right side caused by bleeding in the cranium.
After Chuck was admitted to the hospital for an operation
in the morning, I drove back to his house.
On December 20 the operation was conducted and I
brought Pat to the hospital to visit after 10:00 AM. For
about three hours we visited Chuck. The left side was no
longer paralyzed, there was a good grip in his left hand and
there were three holes in his head. The next day I went to
Slidell to have a haircut, visited Chuck again about 2:00
PM, took Pat out to eat, and visited again with Chuck. I
was assured that Pat was taken care of, so I went to New
Orleans and stayed with Georgia (Connies sister). I turned
in the car the next day and few to Tulsa to spend Christmas
with Steve, Mary, Frank, Connie, Aspen and Sally (two
dogs).
At the hospital one person asked why was I there. I told
him to take care of my brother. He said that is wonderful.
So many persons just drop their relations on the front step
and take off. I had a real brother, and I dont do that.
The above is a birthday card that Chuck sent to me during
the last few years of his life.
Written on the card above:
As the inevitable approaches, I realize what a wonderful
brother Ive had in this life time. I still remember when
he was a long legged brain walking around, asking
questions I could not answer.
With love, Chuck
2l
In June of 1998, after my fnal retirement, I received
another phone call, this time from Pat. Chuck was to be
operated on again for his back problem, this time to place
metal braces on his spine. On June 29 I purchased an air-
line ticket to go to New Orleans on July 5.
This was to be the operation of a lifetime. The opera-
tion was to be in two phases, to operate from the front
which required that most internal organs be moved from
their location and placed on the side until preparation for
the placement of the titanium rods was complete. Then, all
organs were to be replaced in their proper location and the
patient was allowed a week or so to recuperate before the
second phase. During the examination prior to the opera-
tion the surgeon was explaining the procedure to Chuck and
me about what was to be done, and what results could be
expected. He must have used the term death at least 15
times during this discussion. Chuck did not show any emo-
tion during this preview of coming attractions, but stayed
the course. I was a bit more concerned.
The operation on July 16 by Dr. Whitecloud was a
success and Chuck was ftted with a plastic body cast and
told to rest. Ha!! Chuck rest? Pat came up to visit and
was oh so sweet, but she usually was. So Chuck wanted
to go home for that week to recuperate and do other more
intimate things also, based upon his conversation. A stupid
doctor was about to give him permission - but I spoke with
a knowledgeable nurse who set him straight. He stayed in
the hospital, and it was a good thing. He went in and out of
reality and accused all persons of trying to do him in. One
good thing that I noticed is that when Chuck got out of bed
and walked, he was straight instead of bent over as he had
been for so many years.
During the time between operations Pat and I spent a lot
of time together. We ate often at great restaurants in Slidell
and used up a lot of gas going back and forth to the hospi-
tal in New Orleans. I did get to eat fried oysters which I
could not obtain in Los Alamos, or even in Albuquerque.
Mexican food back there was great, but they could really
ruin New Orleans cuisine. Often I would hear a strong
desire from Pat after a meal. I would ask her if there was
anything else that I could get her and she would reply, in a
gentle little voice -ICE CREAM. The second operation
on July 24 went well, but then came the most disappointing
episode in medical practice that I had ever witnessed.
On July 29 I was told that Chuck was being transported
from New Orleans to the Greenery in Slidell for recovery.
I went over there as soon as I heard this news to see how he
was doing. Very Badly!!! He was sent out of New Orleans
cold turkey with no prescription or supply of pain medi-
cations and was in much pain and experiencing withdrawal
symptoms. When I entered the Greenery building I quickly
discovered that I was not in a fower shop as the prevalent
odor was that of urine. The sounds coming from the rooms
were what you might expect from a medieval insane asy-
lum. I was directed to Chucks room and found him lying
on his bed with the most terrifed look that I had ever seen
on his face. In the next bed was a person either recovering
from some mind boggling medical situation or who had just
been warehoused to await his end. He was staring at Chuck
and making incoherent sounds. That is the only time that I
had ever seen Chuck terrifed.
I saw one of the nurses and told her I wanted a doctor to
see Chuck right now. She said that a doctor would be there
in the morning, and he would have to wait. I told her to get
a doctor there or get Chuck to a doctor NOW or all hell is
going to break out around here. She witnessed my anger
and we were soon at Northshore Hospital in Slidell. There
was a lovely doctor there, Dr. Jacquelin Kirby, and she was
experienced with the care of persons who were on drugs.
She treated him like a best friend, found out which drugs he
was on, gave him medication to calm him down, and wrote
a prescription for further use. We went back to the Green-
ery and I demanded that he be placed in another room. He
was, right across the hall, with a person who had lost both
legs because of diabetics and was not always in his right
mind. I was appalled, but then, delighted. This person
was Navy, as was Chuck, and even in their demented states
they got along great. They would be up part of the night,
just babbling, sometimes using naval expressions, to each
other and just to no one at all. With the military band of
brothers there is a bond that goes beyond sickness, health,
mental condition or any other adversities.
On July 31, Chuck was back in that he could think,
talk and recognize who was in the room with him. Richard
and Rosabel Gonzales took my place and visited Chuck
and took care of Pat and her transportations needs. There
were good days and bad days but Chuck got out of bed and
walked on August 6. On August 8 I took to the air and went
back to Los Alamos, very tired but successful.
Chuck & Sam outside of assisted living facility, Azalea Es-
tates, in Slidell, LA.
22
Chuck and Pat moved to an assisted living facility in
Slidell. They moved as much as they could into their new
apartment, then had a garage sale for the contents of the
house. It really hurt Pat seeing her clothing and other items
being sold, but it had to be done. The property at Pearl
River was up for sale, and sold. There were some under-
handed dealings going on between realtors, but Chuck was
not hurt, so I stayed out of it. They settled down, Chuck
now had a motorized scooter which he learned to handle
very well. Also at this new residence was Sam, the last of
the dogs. Chuck would ride down to the dining room on
his vehicle with Pat standing on the back, holding on to
Chucks shoulders. Things went along fairly well, they had
a lot of friends, and I was always on call if needed.
On December 1, 1998 I received a phone call from
Chuck that Pat had died of a heart attack in Slidell, LA. I
was already prepped for a minor back operation and could
not leave.
Well, my wife had fown the coop, fled for divorce
and my son Steve took me to Tulsa, Oklahoma to receive
treatment for medical problems. In October, I few down to
Slidell to help Chuck fll out his income tax and other odds
and ends. He was doing fair, but sure missed Pat. After
that, the next time I saw him was when he came to be with
me at my wedding to my present and wonderful wife, Jean
on February 12, 2000. Chuck sure took to Jean, as he had
a bad feeling for many years about Connie. He was mobile
and had a great time.
He couldnt fgure out why they would call Tulsa Green
Country when there was so little green. I had to remind
him that this was February.
From September 30 to October 4 Jean and I were in
Slidell to visit Chuck and Richard and Rosabel Gonzalez.
Chuck had bought a mobile home and was now living in
a trailer court. It was then that Art, who owned the trailer
court where Chuck was living, took me aside and told me
that he heard some people talking about Chucks estate
and that I just thought that I was the only heir. I thanked
Art and told him that was Chucks business, and I did not
need the money. It was also in Slidell that Jean frst ate al-
ligator. I passed.
Chuck and I had some telephone calls during the next
few months but he was being taken care of by his best bud-
dy, Evans St. Romain and Laura and Mel Leonard. Saint
would call when there was a problem and I could usually
help. Chuck became obsessed with ghosts which were
stealing his things and moving them around the house. One
night he called Saint and told him I got one of them!!!!
Well, he did. With a 22 pistol he shot one and put a hole
in the mobile home window which was behind the ghost.
That was the end of his guns in the house.
On March 5, 2002 I received the word that Chuck had
gone to join Pat in that city not built by men, and I, with
Jean, Steve and Mary few to New Orleans for the funeral.
I spoke to the Pastor who said the words about Chuck-
telling him about his combat with the Japanese and the hate
that he had for them, and how this hate turned to love when
he docked in Japan and met the Japanese people. The pastor
made a beautiful service out of that, and more.
Then came the lack of a will. Chucks friends kept try-
ing to have him make a will, with possible placing me in a
secondary role. They would bring him to the stairs which
led up to James Lamz, his attorneys offce, and Chuck
would balk, and say No, I want to think about this some
more. I was his only living relative, but never pushed it.
I fgured that it was his decision and he had to make up his
mind about what to do with his money.
The last gathering of the
Keller Family at the wedding
of Jean and Dean on Febru-
ary 12, 2000.
From Left to Right:
All Kellers
Steves family: Jake, Steve,
Frank (Front) and Mary;
Jean (the Bride and the newest
Keller) and Dean (the Groom);
Chuck (big brother and the old-
est Keller);
Lucy, Deanas mother & Deana
who is on the far right.
23
Chuck and I had talked about this ultimate event, and we
both agreed that the best thing to do, if one comes into a lot
of money, was to give it to those who needed it more. He
told me how the gift of a twenty dollar bill could be a God
send to many people whom he knew. And towards the end
he had made up a list of certain persons whom he wanted
to receive his estate. I was listed for $50,000, Saint for the
same amount with other persons receiving somewhat lesser
amounts. This was shown to me in a hand scribbled note
by Saint, and in a letter to the attorney by Laura, but the at-
torney stated that these pieces of paper had no legal value.
A few days later I was asked to come to the attorneys
offce for a meeting. There Mel handed me a listing of
Chucks assets, totaling about a third of a million dollars,
and Jim told me that I was the only heir. I was not even
thinking about this, as others were, but accepted it as a
duty to my brother. There was some disappointment by
Saint. Money is a funny thing, and it was interesting many
months later when I discovered that the next of kin block
on the hospital records stated none.
I took this in, prayed a bit, and the next day or so told
Jim that I was going to follow my brothers wishes as he
had stated in the letter to him. There was some relief by
some persons there, but Jim just took it in stride as a rea-
sonable thing that I wanted to do.
Before we left to go back to Tulsa I told Saint that he
could have Chucks car since Chuck had indicated this
before, and also gave him a check from my account for
$10,000 to help him until the succession of the estate had
taken place. He had told me that it was hard to live on a
three fgure income in these times. I had to fgure out how
to distribute the money in accordance with Federal Tax
regulations.
We went home and then started months of paper work
about the estate with faxes to and from Jims offce, and
all fnally came to an end, and the estate was settled. I had
opened an account Chuck and Pat Memorial Fund with
the Bank of America and made some stationery with a
picture of Chuck and Pat on the left side, and Sam, the last
dog, on the right, for use in distributing the money as the
spirit led me.
With the larger bequeaths it took a couple of years to
distribute the big money in blocks of $11,000 per person
(and the same for the wife) from each of us, Jean and me.
I did take some of the money for myself, I bought a new
laptop computer for about four thousand, and I brought
Chucks card table and chairs home as well as a few other
things to have of his. Pat had much jewelry which she was
afraid to wear with the crime prevalent in the New Orleans
and Slidell area. And many of Pats friends wanted some
to remember her by. One day, while I was in Slidell on
a previous trip, Chuck gave me a pouch flled with jewelry,
telling me that too many persons were asking for memo-
ries and he wanted all of this to go to Mary, my daughter
in law. I brought them back to Mary, and she was surprised
since she had never asked for anything. Chuck really loved
her, and she (and Steve) loved him - and it showed. Later,
Chuck found some more jewelry and sent it to Mary by
mail, no insurance, etc. He just had to smuggle some
more out of Slidell.
Then back to Tulsa to make arrangements for what was
to come. There was much correspondence with banks,
insurance companies, the Veterans Administration, Fed-
eral and Louisiana tax organizations, etc. Soon, the money
started rolling in, and the checks were being sent out. The
frst check, # 1001, was sent on May 12, 2002 to a young
lady for college expenses and the last check, #1100 was
sent on January 12, 2004 to help a young man with college
expenses. The account was depleted and was closed on
February 21, 2004. There were cash gifts, usually less that
$100, individual gifts, charity gifts, church gifts - all for
distribution to the less fortunate and persons who needed
money in an emergency, both within our extended family
and to persons whom we had never met. There was one
young lady whom we had to fnd. Chuck was in his motel
room when he had a medical problem. The ambulance
arrived and the paramedics applied their skills. Chuck re-
covered but then discovered that he was missing two rings.
They were returned by the motel manager in an odd way,
but we left that motel and went to another motel, La Quinta,
where Chuck was greeted by Brenda Tanner with a hearty
How you doing, good looking. She was kind to Chuck,
and was a real friend. We hunted her down, verifed who
she was, went to the hospital where she was having a medi-
cal procedure, and gave her a check for $2000. She was in
need at that time, and thankful.
Name & address
names
24
Home is the sailer, home from the sea - Pat and Chuck together again.
All dogs go to heaven - so we know that
Sam is there also
25
We have one beginning, from mothers womb,
We arrive as a gift from God.
There are many forks in the road of life
As along this road we trod.
At each fork we must decide,
The path that we must follow.
Some paths are flled with joy and love,
Other paths are painful or hollow.
These paths together are our life,
Will they be barren or full?
What circumstance at each fork in the road,
To the left or to the right will pull.
One of these forks which took place in his youth
Involved an angel from above.
Maybe she wasnt an angel,
But he thought she was, his frst love.
I will not tell to you the name
Of the girl that he did meet,
Nor will I try to describe
Her smile that was so sweet.
They were in their middle teens
Young and full of fun
And from this simple beginning
Will this tale be spun.
She was playing a game of ping pong.
He watched as she took aim,
She was good, and fast, and beautiful
With a smile you couldnt tame.
He hadnt stopped to watch before,
Insecurity was his name.
She invited him to play,
He accepted, how do you score?
You play till one has twenty-one,
No ties, not one point more.
Just keep the ball moving fast,
And have a lot of fun.
She did him in, with a mischievous grin.
His life had just begun.
Something inside was stirring
That he had never felt before,
What? A futter in his heart?
They sat and talked a while
She always had a smile
And soon was in his every thought.
So, on his motor bike,
Hed often fnd his way
Down the River Road, along St. Charles
To the place where she did stay.
They visited, sat on the stair.
To laugh and plan, sit in the sun.
What shall we do Saturday night,
That will be a lot of fun?
I believe this was the time
That his thoughts forever changed
And songs of love were everywhere.
He memorized these songs and thought
With their words
- innocent love was theirs to share.
They danced, saw movies, went double dating,
Went to Pontchatrain Beach.
Rode the rides, held each other, laughed, talked, ran and
played, Had quiet moments without speech.
He did not think that anything
Could possibly go wrong.
But soon a bit of sadness
Entered into his song.
He found there was another,
Not unusual at that age.
Someone else for whom she cared.
Someone else who shared the stage.
Things went from good, to bad,
And then they went to worse,
Without her in his life,
Life was but a curse.
School was over, no plans made,
Happiness lost its source.
So with his buddies Charles and Ed
He joined the US Air Force.
First Love
26
Before he left, they talked again,
He had enlisted, soon to go,
From New Orleans and the girl he loved
She said, Ill miss you so.
He told her that hed write and phone,
His heart to her did yield.
And if, God willing, his training base
Would be close, at Keesler feld.
Lackland was for basic training.
They wrote, and he trained.
He was going to be an airman
And that required a bit of pain.
Push-ups, tear gas, guns, marching,
Up at the break of day.
Not much time to think of her
But he did, anyway.
After three months of training,
Came the word for which he waited;
Assignment to Keesler Field,
They both were elated.
Each weekend they could be together;
Forget the pain of the past.
He held her in his arms again,
Not knowing it wouldnt last.
They went out double dating,
He brought friends from the base,
For a while they were elated;
He didnt know hed lost the race. But he had.
He tried dating other girls
How was he to know?
He had to live - words from the song
I wish I didnt love you so.
The song that was named above
Had the following thought.
It describes so well, what for so long,
Went on in his heart.
I might be smiling by now with some new tender friend,
Smiling by now with my heart on the mend.
But when I try, something in my heart says no-
Youre still there, I wish I didnt love you so.
This song kept going through his mind
Wonderful girls he knew, and met,
Marguerite at home, and other girls,
But he just couldnt forget.
Graduation came to take him away
From Keesler Air Force Base.
He packed his bags and took a bus
Knowing someone had taken his place.
His duty base was MacDill
An assignment on the ground.
While Bombers few overhead
Thats where he could be found.
He was now a radio operator
Who had a job to do.
Stationed in Florida- he wondered,
Is this for me, my whole life through?
He walked around old Tampa town
And looked at Tampa Bay.
He met a girl named Mary
Who was perfect in every way.
But still the one he left at home
Was in his heart to stay.
But about this time a war started
In a land across the sea.
Korea was that lands name and
He said, this war is for me.
His father served in World War I,
His brother, World War II.
So duty called, he knew that he-
Had to see this one through.
Into the offce of the CO
With a request as simple as can be.
A salute, a pause, he spoke his words,
Sir- fying status for me.
The CO looked at this kid-
Tall, erect and kind of thin.
Perhaps the thoughts went through his mind,
Thoughts that went back to when -
He was young and foolish and brave--
When he frst took to the air-
He had to warn him of what he was doing-
Cause those who love him would care.
So in a quiet tone of voice
He said, ever so low.
If you do this - then I am sure-
That into combat you will go.
He stood erect, thought just a bit
About home, love and her-
About duty, honor, country- all
And frmly said yes sir.
His heart was empty, they asked for men
For combat duty, in Korea
He volunteered, considering, maybe
That never again would he see her.
A week at home, before he left
They met and talked a while.
She said that she would like to write,
He said, sure, with a smile.
He felt that tugging at his heart,
But knew it was too late,
She belonged to another,
And he had to face his fate.
27
From MacDill to Randolph Air Force Base,
For combat training with a crew.
Bombing runs, practice drops,
His crew was good, he knew.
Survival courses just in case,
You crash and need to survive,
He thought of her every day,
Not his reason for staying alive.
Six months from when he left MacDill,
His crew was on its way, Hawaii, Midway,
Wake Island, then over Tokyo bay.
Stationed at Yokota, Japan
His combat days did start,
With fak in the air,
MIGs everywhere,
She was still in his heart.
After eleven
months and
ffteen days,
and forty
some-odd
missions.
They told his
crew, youre
going home
For this they
had been
wishing.
Twas sad to leave Japanese friends and buddies on the base,
But real steak and whole milk would just have to take their
place. ---- He did want to leave, although
He left good friends behind,
Gerry crashed and died in Korea,
His body they couldnt fnd.
Our plane, with our replacements,
Are in the Sea of Japan.
Shot down by a single MIG
They couldnt save a man.
Back at home, his heart did ache
To see her once again,
He feared that shed be married
And he couldnt take the pain.
So he visited other friends he knew,
Much had happened since long ago.
Marguerite was wed, as was Mary,
He was alone, I know.
So college occupied his time
For three years and a quarter.
Had to start all over again,
And studying seemed much harder.
But going through two summers
He made up the extra year.
In 56, off went the hat
With the graduates cheer.
God did not mean for man to be
Alone on this earth.
Pain from the past slowly heals
that love might have new birth.
He dated, and love came again
to renew this gift called life.
And in his junior year
he was blessed to have a wife.
They partied and they argued,
They traveled and had fun.
They laughed and loved their baby boy
So wonderful to have a son.
They bought a house in Harahan,
They were always on the go.
Life was good, life was strange
How little did they know.
They moved, had two more sons,
Changed jobs as projects ended.
Moved out to New Mexico
Where sky and mountains blended.
Received professional recognition
Everything looked like gain,
But when teenagers were in their house
There was a lot of pain.
They lost one son at age twelve,
Their youngest, it broke his heart.
Lost one son at thirty-three,
his best friend - did depart.
The only reason that I can give
That he is alive today,
Is the assurance that Jesus gave
When he said I am the Way.
A mixture of joy and pain
this life that they share,
Others suffered similar losses,
Marriages broke in despair.
Through the pain and the heartbreak,
They suffered, but trusted God;
And in the end, Gods love did win,
They were together on this road we trod.
Gerry Johnson
Doug, our youngest
Entrance road to
Los Alamos
Our crew - I am 7th from left
Connie
28
So growing older, thinking back
Of days way back then,
He called his Captain from Korea
Who was happy to hear from him.
Learned about Marguerite and her death,
Must have grieved for a year.
Love does not die, its eternal,
He shed many a tear.
He had to learn what happened,
I guess he learned too much.
To fnd where she was buried, with
His frst love, he got in touch.
She told him, and he visited,
And sat beside her grave.
Tears did fow, love never dies,
Thank God, that Jesus saves.
Spoke to his love of long ago,
Still a futter in his heart,
Gods love was there, strong still
Although they were long apart.
Marriage is blessed by God
That two may live in love,
It does not limit love for others,
That comes from God above.
For Jesus said, while here on earth,
Love God with all your heart,
And love others in My name,
Neighbor, enemy, be not ashamed.
If in all persons that you meet
You see My glory in their eyes.
Love is the only absolute,
That exists under My skies.
Four decades later, they met again
It was a meeting of joy.
Although she wasnt a little girl,
Nor he a little boy.
He met her husband, a wonderful man
They spoke of days gone by.
He was the man who took her away,
He said, A better man than I.
Her husband treats her with love,
Tenderness and care.
They raised two wonderful children
And a beautiful life they share.
He still loves her, with Gods love,
For Gods love never ends.
Her husbands name, he will not say,
Hes happy to call him friend.
Well, I do like cheese, and I have never claimed to be a
prophet so I was caught in a trap. Everything did not work
out as foreseen in this narrative/poem, but it was a good
exercise in placing my thoughts in order about the pains of
being a teenager.
My marriage also did fall apart, although I was com-
pletely unaware of it prior to the moment of truth - or un-
truth. Before learning from others what had been planned
for many months I stumbled over the facts while trying
to determine what was going wrong, Strange phone calls
from the bank and other sources puzzled me. Prior to this
time, I had vowed to renew everything about our marriage,
and did keep trying to save it, until realization of over is
over fnally became apparent. Then, that was it. As far
as the marriage was concerned, gone is gone and death
had replaced life. It was time to joyfully accept the Life
of Job which was to come- well not always joyfully, but
willingly since God was in control and He not only allowed
this, but probably guiding it to prepare me for the joy which
was to come in my new life.
The sicknesses and depression which came were but a
marker between my two lives, and enabled me to break
from the old and rejoice in this new life which was to
change my contributions from those of my professional life
as an engineer to one as a joyful follower of Christ who
can make a contribution as a follower to those whom I, and
soon we, came into contact.
The best laid plans of mice and men ---
When I was in the deepest depths of despair, living the
life of Job, my son, Steve, my daughter in law, Mary and
their two dogs, Aspen and Sally took me in and helped me
go through an experience which was very close to death.
No kidding: a desire to shoot myself, a trip to a psychiat-
ric hospital in the back of a police car, three days in that
psychiatric hospital, a car wreck, two operations, leukemia
out of remission and idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura
(ITP for those who do not want to impress others). I also
developed a greed which forced me to assume the alpha
dog position in Steve and Marys house, and place territo-
rial claims on what used to be Aspens (their male standard
Poodle) back yard. He was very unhappy with me, but Sal-
ly did not care at all. More information on this wanton act
of mine is on page 112, right column, third paragraph, of
the autobiography. At that time I received meaningful sup-
port from many of my friends, including the one in First
Love. With Gods help I managed to not only survive but
to thrive in the new life that He had given me.
I was confused as I went through this transition, espe-
cially the words which came to me prior to the start of this
eventful transition in my life. (Page. 111, lower left col-
umn) Although there was much wondering, worrying and
stumbling as Gods plan was taking shape, His love fnally
prevailed.
Looking back, my life has been a symphony of music,
with me supplying the notes off key, and my loving Father
changing them into beauty.
29
The United States Air Force
OUR NATION HONORS HER SONS AND DAUGHTERS
WHO ANSWERED THE CALL TO DEFEND A COUNTRY THEY NEVER KNEW
AND A PEOPLE THEY NEVER MET.
1950 - KOREA - 1953
The defnition of a veteran: A veteran is a person who, at one time in his or her life, signed a blank check
to the government of the United States for an amount up to and including his/her life.
On August 1, 1949, three buddies, Mac Keller, Charles
Gardner and Eddie Newchurch, from New Orleans, en-
listed in the United States Air Force. Basic training was
at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas. This
was uneventful, involving taking tests, marching, tear gas
training, fring weapons, exercise and other basic training
tasks. After a short while, Eddie had to leave the service on
a hardship discharge because of problems in his family and
Charles, after being sick for a short time, transferred to the
paratroopers. So much for the buddy system.
After about three months of preparation, members of the
Flight (64 + men) went our separate ways for specialized
training. My choice was Radio Operator training at Keesler
Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. The primary reason
for this was to be near home and my girlfriend in New
Orleans. These objectives proved to be of minor conse-
quence but some skills learned at Keesler did help in the
further development of my life. One, believe it or not, was
learning to type, in Morse code, up to 30 words per minute.
The typing skill was necessary at ground stations in the Air
Force, very important in college and tremendously impor-
tant in my career as an engineer. This typing skill is still
with me and has allowed me to put into words - thoughts,
concepts, magazine articles and other products of the mind.
The other great beneft was the MOS (Military Occupation-
al Specialty) of being a radio operator which allowed me to
be assigned to fying status, to go to Japan and the conse-
quential educational, religious and personal benefts which
followed decisions made over the years. This was a life
changing decision, but not for the reasons that I made it.
Following Radio Operator training at Keesler, on August
9, 1950, I was assigned to a ground radio operator post
at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida. That work
was not very interesting, but the people I met and my at-
tendance at a Baptist Church in Tampa were rewarding.
Life was good in Tampa. I had friends at the Church, had
a girl friend whom I had met there (her father had a Pack-
ard which he allowed me to use for dates) and this was a
chance to mature a bit more at a less hectic pace than in
basic training. However, an event that took place while I
was in radio operator training caused everything in my life
to change. On June 25, 1950, North Korean forces invaded
South Korea and the United States was participating in a
Police Action to stop the aggression in cooperation with
many other United Nations members.
In the frst part of October, 1950, while I was still 18
years old, I requested a meeting with my squadron com-
manding offcer. I went into his offce, saluted smartly,
and stated, Sir, I respectfully request a transfer to fying
status. This is just a few months after the invasion of
South Korea by North Korea and the 307th Bomb Wing
had already left MacDill Air Force Base for Okinawa for
combat. There were bulletins on the bulletin board request-
ing airmen to serve on B-29 Bombers. He looked at me and
asked Do you realize that you will be sent into combat?
I replied Yes sir! And a new adventure started. My dad
had served during WW I, my brother in WW II and this was
my turn. Back then, duty, honor and country were consid-
ered precious by most.
I have records of all fights on which I was privileged to
serve as a crew member during my Air Force career. We
started out slowly with my frst fight being on October 19,
1950. This was a training fight of 1 hour and 5 minutes
just to see if I would fall apart from fear, disgust or over-
whelming joy by being enclosed by aluminum at 20,000
feet above the ground. It was fun. My thirteen fights at
MacDill were training fights, except for two.
On October 20, before I even knew how to operate the
radio equipment on the aircraft, I was told I was the radio
operator on a B-29 fying out of MacDill AFB to Biggs
AFB in Texas, just ahead of a hurricane. I told the aircraft
commander that the radio equipment was still a mystery
to me, and there was nothing that I could do. He said that
they needed a radio operator for this short fight, and I was
it. So, I had nothing to do except to enjoy the ride for six
hours and ffty minutes, most of it after dark. On the 21st
we returned to MacDill, also late in the day and at night.
On December 15, 1950, I was a qualifed radio opera-
tor on a B-29 and we were ordered to fy to Ramey AFB in
Puerto Rico with empty bomb bays and empty gun turrets.
We came back with a complete booze load for the men
on the base. Rum and other adult beverages were very
cheap at Ramey and they loaded boxes in the bomb bays
and bottles were stored in the cavities within the gun tur-
rets. While on the base, cleaning up before going to bed,
in walked Airman Maurice Olivier, a friend of mine from
Brooklyn Ave, one street east of my home in Jefferson Par-
ish, LA. We had a great time talking about his duty in the
Air Force and where I was going.
30
After my last training fight on January 15, I was trans-
ferred from the 20th Air Force, 367 Bomb Squadron,
Medium, to ATRC (Combat crew training) 1510 PTW at
Randolph AFB in San Antonio, Texas. No, I still dont
know what a lot of these acronyms mean. I underwent 83
hours of fight training and many hours of ground school.
This is where I met Stan Fluharty, Leroy Hudson and Gerry
Johnson. We became the best of buddies These three went
on to Okinawa with the 307th Bomb Group while our crew
was transferred on April 17 to the 15th Air Force, 31st
Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron
(Later the 91st SRS) for more train-
ing at Travis Air Force Base in Cali-
fornia. We received an additional 48
hours of air time and transferred out
on May 22, 1951. From Travis AFB
we few to Hickum Field in Hawaii,
to Midway Island, to Wake Island
and landed at Haneda AFB near
Tokyo Japan on June 8. We few
our frst combat mission lasting nine
hours on June 13, 1951. About nine
months from conception to birthing a
new combat crew member.
Flying across the Pacifc was
interesting. We were passengers in a DC-4, a four engine
propeller military aircraft. Our frst stop was in Hawaii
where I was met at the airbase by my uncle, William M.
Dean. Note the middle initial. He also dropped the un-
mentionable name and being a lawyer changed his name
around. My namesake was my hidden namesake. We had
met before when he came to New Orleans in the 1940s to
visit with my mother and his other sister, my Aunt Ethel
(Ethel Ashmore of Baton Rouge), and my grandmother (his
mother), Nan Fenn Dean,
who lived with us in Jef-
ferson Parish.
After a short visit and
an overnight rest stop we
boarded again to travel to
Midway Island. Midway
was a beautiful island
back in 1951. A few
years before we arrived, it was
the center of a clash of giants; the Japanese Navy and the
United States Navy assisted by ground and air forces sta-
tioned on Midway. It was the turning point of the war, with
the Japanese losing many of their most qualifed pilots.
They also lost aircraft carriers and other ships, and their
ability to mount a large offensive was greatly diminished.
This battle, and the naval battle in the Philippines later in
the war, were the fnal blows to the Japanese advances in
the Pacifc.
On Midway I took some pictures of Gooney birds,
birds which were no longer capable of fying and thrived on
Midway, a bird sanctuary. Their only bad habit was to be
on the runway when planes were landing or
taking off. I also took a picture of a small
Japanese cemetery in which were interred
the only Japanese to land on the Island. I
understand, from some of my Japanese
friends in Japan, that the inscriptions are
honorable.
Also on our aircraft were
some ground soldiers from
Columbia who were part of
the UN contingent being sent
to resist the invasion from
the north. We talked and
laughed and spoke in our
broken Spanish and English,
and discussed things, as best we could with the language
barrier. What did we discuss? The same things that teenag-
ers the world around, who were going to war would think
of. Girls, Seoritas, etc.
Landing on Wake Island was different. There was no
smell of death, but you knew that many died on this tiny,
barren island just a few years ago. At this time there was
still burned-out military equipment around the island. We
gassed up, ate and took off for Japan.
In Japan
On June 8, 1951 we landed at Haneda Air Force Base in
Tokyo, Japan. We were surprised that two nationalities, or
many more considering the UN forces, were working side
by side after the most devastating war that Japan or the US
had ever experienced, with the
exception of the US Civil war.
Smiling faces greeted us and we
soon learned how to say thank
you in Japanese.
We arrived at Yokota Air Force
base, Japan, on June 10, 1951.
My military occupation speciality was to serve as a radio
operator on a RB-29 reconnaissance aircraft, fying combat
missions over Korea and surveillance missions over the Sea
of Japan and off of the coast of the Soviet Union.
On June 13 we few only one mission, a nine hour
combat mission, and spent the rest of the time training and
understanding the protocol for the area. In July we few
eight missions of which two were combat missions. Three
of these, on July 5, July 11 and July 12 were planned to be
an ECM (Electronic Countermeasure) fight along the Ku-
rile Islands, which were held by the Russians. However, on
the way north we lost an engine and had to land at Misawa
Air Force Base in northern Honshu Island. The engine was
replaced and on July 11 we test few the aircraft for a little
over an hour, and returned to Yokota AFB on July 12. Our
second combat mission was July 27.
In August we had two combat missions and three train-
ing missions. The word training could be misleading,
in that fying from the south towards Vladivostok in the
Uncle Mac & me in Hawaii
Stan on bottom, Leroy
above & Gerry to right
at Randolph AFB
3l
Soviet Union would be considered a training mission and
we would not receive any credit towards the 25 combat
missions requirement for being replaced. We only had one
Vladivostok mission during our tour with the ECM RB-29.
It was equipped with specialty radar to record radar signals
from the ground, take photographs of these signals and ob-
tain enough information to provide the ability to jam those
signals, if a situation developed making it necessary to do
so. The Russians were reluctant to turn on their radar for
this reason, unless they were reasonably sure that we were
going to do something drastic. So, we had to fy toward the
city just as if we were on a bombing run, and try to make it
look real. Our ECM operators were keeping us up to date
with moment by moment comments. Have ground to air
radar on, tracking. Ground to air radar adequate, have
information required. --- Get the hell out of here. Then
a quick turn to the east, nose down, full throttle and away
we go. Radar to Aircraft Commander on intercom. Don,
do you want to know your ground speed? Yes, Andy,
what is it? 600 miles per hour. The words are probably
not the same spoken on the intercom, but they are close. In
an aircraft with a top speed of about 350 mph and a strong
tail wind from the west (over 200 mph) we indicated to our
Russian counterparts that we did not want to stay and play.
Looking into the future, we completed our tour of duty
and left Japan on May 16, 1952. On June 13, 1952, RB-
29 # 1815 with ECM equipment, a large camera and our
replacement crew was shot down by Russian fghters over
international waters, while trying to accomplish that same
mission. Eddie Berg was the radio operator on that aircraft.
On World News Tonight, July 2, 1992, with Peter Jennings,
this loss was discussed. Part of the discussion included the
following: John Bergs brother, Eddie, was shot down over
the Sea of Japan in 1952. His plane, a B-29, was on a spy-
ing mission. Another person added: I didnt realize that
it was full of electronic gear and that they were actually
trying to rouse the radar installations along the northern and
the southern rim of the Iron Curtain. The mission would
have been classifed as a training mission since fying over
the Korean War zone was not involved. And on spy mis-
sions the crew is on their own. The government cannot
acknowledge that spying was taking place.
By this time, we had experienced enemy fre from anti-
aircraft guns on the ground and I was suffciently impressed
to start thinking about improving my relationship with my
God. My quest to know my Creator is discussed in another
section of this discourse.
In September we had four missions, all combat. In late
September or early October, a typhoon in the Pacifc Ocean
caused the 307th Bomb Wing, of which Gerry was a mem-
ber, to leave Okinawa and his aircraft landed at Yokota.
Gerry and I spent some delightful hours together that day
and night, before he had to return to his base. We started
out just talking about fying, our friends, girls, etc., and
ended up singing many of our old favorite Christian songs,
and talked about our God. My last memories of Gerry were
of the two of us praising God together.
In October we had six combat missions. October was
not a good month for B-29 crews. On October 23, 1951
a B-29 bomber on which the tail gunner was my buddy,
Gerry, the person with whom I felt I had the strongest bond
in the Air Force, was shot down over Korea. His aircraft
made a crash landing in enemy territory. Friendly forces
made their way to the crash site on October 29th where the
remains of three crew members were recovered. All had
been shot in the head. The remainder of the crew was miss-
ing, presumed captured, and never heard from again. My
buddy, Gerald Johnson, was one of those airmen missing.
They died in captivity in a prison camp.
In the Stars and Stripes, the military newspaper which
we had in Japan there was a listing of the fatalities in the
Black October attack by about 150 MIG-15 jet fghters on
bomber groups engaged in raids over North Korea. Jim
Johnson, who was in our barracks, a member of the 98th
Bomb Group also stationed at Yokota, bailed out over Pu-
san harbor, but drowned when he was covered by his para-
chute. It was shortly after this that the words formed in my
mind resulting in the poem My Lord, My God, My All.
During my stay at Yokota, an airman ( radio operator)
lost his leg when a direct shot went through the aircraft and
his leg from an 88 mm radar controlled anti-aircraft gun.
The shell went completely through the plane, almost dead
center and he was sitting in the tunnel checking above for
enemy fghters. The navigator, who sat to the left of the
radio operator position, cut off the remainder of what was
holding his leg on, and applied a tourniquet. The plane had
completed its mission, so it few to the nearest airport in
South Korea for immediate medical treatment. This crew
member did live, and we saw him working in the orderly
room after that. The aircraft was saved since the shell was
set for the bomber elevation and exploded a thousand feet
above the plane. Our planes would fy under the bombers
which were bombing the area, and our job was to take pho-
tos of the bomb damage. I few on that plane a few weeks
later and saw a round piece of aluminum patching where
the shell had gone through.

In November we had fve combat missions, one of
which was only 1 hr and 5 minutes. I am not sure of the
date but I believe that this was the day (November 20,
1951) that a very strange happening took place. The time
in fight seems about correct for the event which took place.
We were on our way to Korea, for a night mission. Over
the Sea of Japan an explosion burst the calm prevailing and
things started happening. Everyone in the front went into
emergency mode, the co-pilot did quickly salvo the bomb
load (fash bombs for night photography) and the aircraft
commander called on the intercom for crew members to
fnd out what happened. It was Ralph Ashton, the fight
engineer who determined the cause of the explosion. He
was warming some corned beef in a can in a 28 volt food
warmer. The can was sealed, the heat increased and the
corned beef was shot out of the heater onto the roof of the
32
front section of the aircraft. We returned to base and this
time it wasnt the Japanese who cleaned out the plane after
this fight. Ralph was given the privilege of doing so. My
fight record still counts this as a combat mission. Count-
ing the combat missions, there were 36, including this one,
more than the 25 required. If you count the missions which
were even more dangerous than most of the combat mis-
sions, there would be at least 40. Hey- I want some oak
leafs for my Air Medal!!!
In December there were three missions, two of which
were classifed combat. On Christmas day, December 25,
1951, we were awakened about 4:00 AM, dressed in our
fying clothing, went to early breakfast, were transported
out to the fight line and picked up our parachutes, and then
were transported by truck out to our waiting aircraft. We
pre-fighted the aircraft, went to our stations and took off,
heading for Korea. Early in the morning we were over
Korea with our targets assigned. We were fying low, about
two to three thousand feet, following a road that headed
north. There was a GI Truck ahead of us on the road, with
a group of soldiers being transported back to the front line.
While we were still south of
them, we opened our bomb bay
doors, and, as I remember, they
stopped the truck and scattered.
Then we went to our eight
targets; to our boys on the
front line. After sighting in our
targets we went in and dropped
our bomb bay loads on para-
chutes. The drop consisted
of many boxes of goods for
the troops on the front line.
This was the yearly 91st SRS
Christmas drop. The boxes
and contents were built and
purchased by and packed by the
airmen back at Yokota. They
were loaded with candy, ciga-
rettes, whiskey, gum, whiskey,
some clothing items, and did
I mention whiskey? We were
not shot at any time during this
mission, not even by our own
forces. Then back to Yokota
and a little more sleep.
On Christmas in 1950 the
frst fight of this type was
fown by a crew commanded by Earl E. Myers in an aircraft
named Honey Bucket Honchos. This information was
found on the internet in an article written by Earl E Myers.
In their recap of their mission they were specifc. They
included 186 ffths of Booze on the manifest. That same
day another aircraft piloted by Earle H. Ambrose few the
same type mission for another outft along the 38th parallel,
where his brother was located. Both of these drops were
successful, and letters of thanks were received from sol-
diers for the gifts. After they were sober.
I dont remember
when, but on a night
mission fying parallel to
the Yalu river, staying on
the south side for ECM
surveillance, we were
engulfed in a massive
thunderstorm. Lightning
struck our aircraft caus-
ing most circuit breakers
to open. It took a while
to close them, but fnally
we had all equipment
operating again, espe-
cially the radar, since
we did not know where
we were. Andy (Radar)
called to Don (Aircraft
Our Aircraft Commander, Capt.
Donald L. Seesenguth & wife
Betty in Chattanooga, Tennessee,
April 11, 1993
I am the skinny-tall kid, second from the right.
33
No more early morning briefngs in our plush state-
of-the-art briefng room.
Commander) stating we are about 50 miles inside Man-
churia. The aircraft was quickly turned south and we
returned to unfriendly but legal territory.
Although we had a primitive aircraft by todays stan-
dards, it was sturdy. Perhaps not as sturdy as the old stand-
by, the B-17, but we did have pressurized cabins. On May
31, 2009, an Air France # 447 jet with 228 people took off
at 7:03 PM from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil with a destination
of Paris, France. It was fying over the ocean through rough
weather, with thunderstorms in the area. Unlike our normal
B-29 fying altitude of about 20,000 feet they were fying
at an altitude of 34,000 feet. At 11:14 PM an automatic
message reporting system sent a message that there was an
electrical failure and loss of cabin pressure. Their electri-
cal system was state of the art for 2009 as ours was for
1951. What a difference. We still had vacuum tubes and
manually operated circuit breaker, and our engine system
had minimum electronic interface except for monitoring
equipment. Our primitive electronic system with manual
breakers allowed us to survive, but perhaps was a factor
in the loss of the Air France aircraft. Some wreckage was
located by the Brazilian navy about 600 miles from Brazil.
The exact cause of the crash is not and possible will never
be known.
January had fve missions, three combat, February had
six missions, three combat. I vaguely remember that we
were doing some mapping photography in Japan during
some of these months, and also some reconnaissance of
Russian shipping in the Sea of Japan. March had fve mis-
sions, all combat. April had six missions with only one
combat mission. Two of these fights consisted of going
down to Miho Air Force Base in Southern Japan to pick up
a B-29 which had been shot up over Korea and repaired at
Miho. We few down there on a two engine C-119 Fly-
ing Boxcar. And a boxcar it was, between two propeller
- horizontal tail stabilizer units, one on each side. When
we were climbing, it felt like the plane was going to vibrate
apart, but the crew said that this was normal. We arrived
at Miho and the B-29 was ready to go. We had a low fuel
load because of the short runway and obstacles at the end
of the runway. We have two fights on the record, the frst
for one hour and the second for two hours. The reason
was that we had to take off, fy around the area to test the
repaired engine, land and have the engine checked to assure
that everything was still tight. We then took off again and
headed for Yokota.
By this time we could smell our replacements, and in
May they used up our remaining time with a combat mis-
sion on the 2nd, a non-combat (O-1 whatever that is)
mission on the 6th and a fnal combat mission on the 12th.
Those are the scariest missions, just when you are ready to
go home. But, in a few days we had the crew that was go-
ing to take over our room, and had a chance to talk with our
replacements. Mine was Tom Shipp. I remember sitting
on the bed talking to him about the base, the missions and
the life in Japan. His plane was shot down on October 7,
1952 with all of the crew killed. The body of the navigator
was recovered by Russian Sailors and later returned to the
United States after the thaw in the Soviet United States
relations.
34
RB-29 with the 91st Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron
circle X on the tail.
The insignia of the 91st Strategic Reconnais-
sance Squadron
Flak Shack There are two version as to her early demise. May she rest in
peace. 42-93992 91SRW-91SRS
Flak Shack [3992] 91SRW-91SRS: Donald Johnson, stationed at Yokota
AFB, Japan from 1951 thru 1954,
sent the following: [Flak Shack]
aborted takeoff from Yokota
when one engine failed to develop
the required power and ran off
the runway. The aircraft was
totaled and one crew member
injured. Ted Moran, the tail
gunner, shattered his ankle when
he jumped off the wing. He was
hospitalized at Johnson AB, not
far from Yokota. Teds crew and
I visited him several times while
he was there. Ted and his wife
accompanied my wife and me on
a trip to Hawaii about fve years
ago (2003). Ted has since passed
on. Don adds, One AC told
me that the B-29 was the best
three-engine aircraft the
USAF ever had. Others have referred to the Wright engines as being the
Wrong engines. (Webmasters crash in The Outlaw was eerily similar.)
Caption on the back of the Lee Brunell photo, reads 21 Jan 1952 Total
Loss. Marked Offcial Air Force Photograph APO 328 [Yokota]. Evidence
provided by Collin Smith indicates that Flak Shack was a later version of
Where Next? (Ed. Note: Eyewitness reports differ from various published
accounts that claim Flak Shack was hit by fak in March 1952 while over
the Yalu and crash landed.)
The Circle X on the tail of the 91st Strategic Re-
connaissance Squadron; which became part of the
103rd Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron located
at Fairchild AFB near Spokane, WA, It is now
proudly displayed on the magnifcent RB-36 -
whose altitude and capacity earned it the name
of the Peacemaker through 1959. One third of
these aircraft were the RB-36. This extended our
reconnaissance capability over the Soviet Union
and China at an altitude of 40,000 feet, beyond the
altitude of most anti-aircraft weapons at that time.
The RB-36 cameras could produce very high reso-
lution photographs: pictures of a golf course taken
from 40,000 feet showing recognizable golf balls.
35
My home away from home
From before we arrived
One of ours, while we were there
October,
1951 Combat
losses, most
after about
150 MIGs
attacked our
bombers from
Okinawa and
Yokota. After
this event, air-
craft bottoms
were painted
black and most
fights were
scheduled only
at night.
Our crew L-R: Capt Don Seesenguth -AC Cmd; Lt Carl Grothmann - Co Pi-
lot; Lt Arnold Herman - Nav; Unknown; Capt Hugh Anderson - Radar; T/Sgt
Ralph Ashton - Flt Engr; S/Sgt Mc Keller - Radio; S/Sgt Will Sill - CFC: S/Sgt
Oris Gassaway - T. Gun; Bill Daigle - Photo;Unknown
-- J
a
m
e
s

J
o
h
n
s
o
n
---Gerald Johnson
36
Electronic Counter-measures
Declassifed by HQ AFHRA in accordance with
AF / IGSPB LTR, 13 DEC 1973
Electronic Counter Measures missions are those mis-
sions in which specially equipped aircraft proceed to an
area adjacent to, or within Communist controlled territory,
and endeavor to locate and analyze enemy radar signals.
An ECM crew consists of personnel plus several offcers
with a 7888 MOS (Military Occupational Specialty). These
7888 offcers are all highly trained and superior techni-
cians in this type of work.
During a normal mission, these technicians plot and
analyze the enemy signals simultaneously. Using a Warick
hi-speed 35mm camera, the signal pulse is photographed as
it appears on the Lamont Oscilloscope. At the same time,
the tone of the signal is recorded on an AKQ-1 receiver.
All these results are then forwarded to the Air Material
Command for further study.
The results obtained from these missions represent more
than a physical advantage over the enemy. Missions of
this type prove that the American approach to a problem
is the future approach, and that the concept of winning
a war by mere slugging is false. Knowledge is strength
and strength breeds confdence, and the personnel of this
squadron feel that their accomplishments play a major part
in the ability of the United States to successfully penetrate
the enemy defenses. The information furnished higher con-
fdence more than justifes this opinion and the personnel of
the 91st Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron will continue
to accomplish their assignments diligently in an effort to
sustain the superiority of the United States Air Force.
The frst event took place on 8 April 1950 when a U.S.
Navy (USN) PB4Y-2 reconnaissance plane was shot down
by Soviet air defense fghters over the Latvian/Baltic Sea
region with a loss of all ten crewmen. Although this was
not the frst time a Soviet fghter had intercepted or fred
warning shots at a U.S. reconnaissance aircraft (several
incidents took place in the Northern USSR/Alaskan areas),
this marked the frst downing of a Cold War reconnaissance
aircraft.
The effect of this action and subsequent media coverage
forced the Truman administration to seriously consider the
international ramifcations of fying future aerial recon-
naissance around the world. It also brought politics into
aerial reconnaissance operations for the frst time. During
a moratorium on continued reconnaissance fights, military
and administration offcials devised a concept under which
continued fights would be fown. The JCS formalized this
program on 5 May 1950 as the Special Electronic Airborne
Search Project (SESP). With President Trumans approval,
the SESP was legitimized as a national intelligence asset
under the JCSs direct control.
The watershed event which did more than anything else
to expand aerial reconnaissance during the Cold War was
the invasion of South Korea and the subsequent war to
contain Communist expansion in the Far East. When Soviet
equipped and PRC backed Communist North Koreans
invaded South Korea on 25 June 1950, U.S. leaders were
convinced that this was the beginning of a systematic Com-
munist approach to take over the world by force.
More than merely testing the U.S.s resolve in the Far
East, this military action pushed national leadership (and
the USAF) into worldwide preparation for the anticipated
confict which was thought sure to begin between the US
and the USSR. For the USAF, this meant not only greatly
expanding air power in the Far East theater but also step-
ping up preparations which would enable it to go to war
with North Koreas supporters namely, the USSR and
PRC. An example of this thinking comes directly from the
Commander of SAC, General Curtis LeMay.
Our analysis of available targets together with obvious
considerations of possible adverse psychological reaction
have led us to conclude that employment of AW [Atomic
War] in the FE [Far East] would probably not be advisable
at this time unless this action [is] undertaken as part of an
overall atomic campaign against Red China.
Immediate aerial reconnaissance requirements in the Far
East theater were met by the 91st Strategic Reconnaissance
Squadron (SRS). When initially called to respond to the
invasion, the 91 SRS was the only longrange (strategic)
aerial reconnaissance unit stationed in the Far East and was
equipped with a half-dozen RB-29s. By the end of the war,
it would be the largest squadron in the Far East with over
800 personnel and six different types of aircraft (sometimes
totaling in the hundreds) assigned to it at any one time. (57)
Aircraft fown by the 91 SRS included the RB-29,
RB-36, RB-45, RB-50, KB-29 and WB-26. The frst four
types were reconnaissance confgured aircraft which
performed a wide variety of missions from visual and photo
bomb damage assessment (BDA), through highly technical
PHOTINT, ELINT and, SIGINT missions. The KB-29 was
the frst USAF refueling platform used in combat and the
WB-26 aircraft were used for weather reconnaissance.
Historical Data
From the internet - Declassifed government information.
Cold War and Korean War history of Reconnaissance
37
Gerry Johnson
This is me on the fight line on Christ-
mas day armed and ready for Korea.
Gerry and I started out
together on this adventure
of duty, honor and country.
We parted after combat
crew training; he went to
Okinawa and I went to Ja-
pan, both as crew members
on B-29s fying over Korea.
I made it back home; Gerry
didnt. See you soon buddy,
you are remembered as one
of my favorite people. You
are not forgotten. Dean
38
Korean (Far East) Theater of Operations
10/07/1952: 44-61815 Sunbonnet King was shot down by
Russian pilots north of Hokkaido a few miles from the Kuril
Island near the small Japanese island of Yuri, on a Ferret Mis-
sion. There was an error in navigation which caused the aircraft
to stray into Soviet territory. The crew of 8 was killed during
the attack. A Soviet Maritime Border Guard, Vasily Saiko, was
ordered to take a small boat and gather what debris they could
fnd. They found the body of the Navigator, John Dunham, and
brought the body back to shore. Vasily noticed and removed the
Naval Academy ring from the body at great risk prior to burial,
with the intent of trying to return it to the dead airmans family.
After the disintegration of the Soviet Union, he managed to do
this. At a meeting in Moscow, he turned the ring over to Ameri-
can representatives, and led US representatives to the location of
the grave so that this fallen airman could return home. This Rus-
sian who showed compassion to an enemys family was invited
to come to the United States to participate in the funeral services
for John Dunham at Arlington National Cemetery. (See Readers
Digest, February 1996, Ring of Truth.)
91SRW-91SRS ENG-
LISH BUB (Beat Up
Bastard) - Daijobu
- Moons Moonbeam and
last named Sunbonnet
King - Captain Moon
and his crew went home.
Replacement Tom Shipp,
who took my bunk, was
the radio operator on the
new crew.
RB-29 6/13/1952: Southern Comfort, was shot down over
the Sea of Japan by Soviet pilots, Fedotov & Proskurin. It was
reported that there were no survivors; but it is believed that 11 of
13 were picked up by the KGB and died in Russian prison camps.
This aircraft was ECM equipped and had its tail letters changed
at varying time intervals. It replaced our ECM aircraft which we
few on an identical mission - radar surveillance of Vladivostok
(see page. 31). That aircraft was sent back to the USA because of
rust in the wing spars. These missions and our big camera mis-
sions were considered highly classifed.
Tom Shipp was a
radio operator on a
B-29 assigned to the
91st SRS. I met him in
May, 1952 just prior to
our crews departure
from Japan after com-
pleting our required
combat missions. His
crew was assigned to
our room, and Tom
got my bed. We sat on
our bed and talked
for a while about the
war, the dangers, and a
little about ourselves.
His aircraft was Sun-
bonnet King - shown
above.
On this page I have told the fate of two replacement crews that
took over our missions as the Photo Reconnaissance ECM crews
for the 91 SRS. Our crew probably few on both of these aircraft.
The Mission by Southern Comfort was the one where we
learned that a RB-29 could do 600 mph ground speed if the crew
is scared enough; and we were going to accomplish the mission
that Sunbonnet King was on when we lost an engine and had to
spend a few days at Misawa Air Force Base on northern Honshu
Island.
39
About March 1951 this picture was taken of my three
buddies at Randolph Air Force Base. On the left, we have
Leroy Hudson and on the right Stan Fluharty. In back is
Gerry Johnson, I know that two of these young airmen are
gone now, and I am pretty sure that the third is also. I am
not in the picture, since I took the picture. Besides, you see
enough of me throughout these pages.
We four airmen were a sub-category of the traditional
Band of Brothers that you hear about in the military. With
the exception of some sad-sacks who do not ft in, we share
a common experience, eat in the same mess halls, face the
same risks, laugh at the same jokes and are willing to give
our lives for our country.
Gerry was my best buddy. We thought a lot alike, but
this did not diminish my feelings for Leroy and Stan. Jerry
was from Pennsylvania, was shot down and crash landed
in Korea on October 23, 1951. He died in a prison camp
somewhere in Russia. He was offcially presumed dead by
the Air Force on February 28, 1954.
Leroy was a fellow Louisiana boy. He made it home
and married a wonderful girl, Frankie, who inspired him
to become a minister. The last I heard from Leroy was
that Frankie was very sick and he was devastated. He then
disappeared from the face of the earth.
I wrote a poem for Stan to send to a young lady he
kissed (many times) on a bus trip on the way to Randolph.
All he gave me for guidance is bus, kiss, Jo, November
and cold, and from that I wrote the epoch poem entitled
The Kiss. He sent it to her and they corresponded with
each other. It ended I shall return- and he did.
Using the new computer software for national phone
numbers, I contacted him in Chicago in the mid 1990s. I
asked him what happened to Jo. He married her, and they
had a wonderful life together. I spoke to Jo and mailed
them a copy of the original poem.
The Kiss
Theres a cold November day
That holds a warm spot in my heart.
A spot thats there to stay
No matter how long well be apart.
For on that day I met you,
I held you in my arms-
I kissed your wonderful lips
And thrilled so to your charms.
But fate that smiled down on us
Did not smile for long.
And soon notes of sadness
Drifted into our song.
And as you kissed me on the lips,
The tears of farewell did burn.
Only one thought was in my heart-
My Darling, I shall return.
M. Dean Keller for Stan Fluharty to send to his
new found love, Jo, on 20 February, 1951.
Combat crew training, Randolph AFB, TX
Band of Brothers
On December 19, 2001, I received a letter from Jo after
her daughter had traced me to Tulsa through my e-mail ad-
dress. Jo wanted to tell me that Stan passed away on March
13, 2000 during an operation. The frst word that she heard
from the doctors was that he was in intensive care and had
received 40 pints of blood. The doctors told his daughter
that a vein burst which was a lie. Jo requested an au-
topsy. The autopsy showed that the doctors cut the portal
vein that supplies blood to the heart and liver, injuring it so
badly that it was not repairable, and he bled to death. They
fxed him up enough to take to Intensive Care. He was
buried on March 17, our buddy Gerry Johnsons birthday.
Migs and anti-aircraft fre could not take Stan down, but
an overpaid doctor could.
Jo said, Its a very sad life without him.
40
4l
My Experiences with the Japanese People
On December 7, 1941, in the afternoon, our family was
listening to the radio about a devastating bombing raid by
the forces of the Empire of Japan on military installations
of the United States in Hawaii. I was one month short
of my tenth birthday, and was caught up in the frenzy of
excitement and anger about this sneak attack. My brother,
Chuck, was going to be 19 years old on the next April 7.
Also, my uncle Mac lived in Honolulu, so our family was
concerned about his safety. For the next four years I was
subjected to the news about the cruelty of the Japanese.
Chuck enlisted in the Navy in February of 1942 and was
trained as an Aircraft Mechanic. He served in the Pacifc.
We did not know much about what he was doing until
after the war when he came home. We learned then that he
performed maintenance of naval aircraft in the Philippines
where he was in close contact with the enemy. He also
served as a crew member on naval aircraft on raids. When
he came back to the states you could tell that he had experi-
enced much that he would like to forget.
About eight years later, three buddies, Mac, Charles
and Eddie, enlisted in the United States Air Force, a peace
time air force at that time. But circumstances changed, and
we were at war again, and this time it was my turn to go.
Chuck was still in the Navy and served during the Korean
police action also. All of this is just a background to let you
know my impressions from the recent past about Japan.
In May of 1951, I was on my way to Japan to fy in B-29
Bombers in the Korean war, and to be a member of the oc-
cupation forces. What are these people going to be like? I
had heard so many bad things about them. I was surprised.
From the time that I landed at the airport in Tokyo to
the day that I left to go back to the United States I enjoyed
the Japanese people, and the friendship of Japanese who
worked with us. I also found that persons we met in one
way or another, even casual acquaintances with very lim-
ited exposure, were a people who were gracious, kind and
willing to treat you well in every way. As a western lady
who was in a Japanese prison camp stated, It was not the
Japanese who made war terrible, but war which made the
Japanese terrible.
For the whole time that I was in Japan, an American
GI could go anywhere in the country without a weapon
and feel completely safe. There was very little evidence
of the war remaining in our area, although there were no
tall buildings, even in Tokyo, as the nation was in a state
of rebuilding and surviving- and then fourishing. General
MacArthur performed a magnifcent service for both the
United States and Japan in the way he performed in Japan.
When we arrived at the barracks and moved in, we had
one room for the six enlisted men on our crew. We also had
a day room at the end of the hall which was operated by a
The Imperial Palace and surrounding area in 1951
Japanese man in his late teens, named Charlie, who spoke
very good English. His name was Toshi Nukbriya, but he
had no problem with Charlie. Charlie and I were close
from the time that I arrived until I left. He helped me learn
Japanese and gave me help in understanding Japanese cus-
toms and where things were. He was a friend. I learned in
August, on an anniversary of the frst atom bomb dropped
on Hiroshima, that Charlie was from Hiroshima. He told
me that if it werent for the bomb, he would be dead. He
and his family were being trained to attack enemy soldiers
if an invasion took place, with sharpened bamboo spears.
Leafets were dropped by US aircraft warning the people of
a bombing raid which would take place at some time in the
future, and his family went to a country home and were at
their country home when the bomb was dropped.
There was a movie theatre within easy walking distance
from the barracks and a PX where one could get a more
desirable meal if liver was being served at the mess hall.
Food was generally good, but the milk was reconstituted
and beef was in short supply. There was plenty of Spam
and reconstituted eggs.
We had a Japanese house boy who was formerly in the
Japanese army, named Toshia. He was nice, kept the room
cleaned, smiled a lot, but was a bit reserved. He was very
honest as all of the Japanese who worked at the base were,
and we had a mutual respect for each other. He was married
while we were there and we showered him with money.
We had orientation classes and the usual VD movies to
scare us. Our fights were scheduled in advance so when
there was time available we could take the train to Tokyo.
I met many Japanese over the eleven and one-half
months that we were stationed there. There was a curio
42
shop just outside the gate to the base which was run by
two Japanese ladies, not in their teens. They spoke some
English, and often I would stop in and spend a half hour
or so talking to them. They were always happy to see me.
We would exchange English/Japanese words, and just have
very pleasant conversations and even a few laughs.
I met a young lady named Nardiko Sugano at the skating
rink and spent much time with her. Unlike some of my
fellow airmen, I did not have a wife in town - that would
cost you twenty dollars a month, and would not be in keep-
ing with the way I believed you should treat the Japanese
ladies. My mother didnt raise me that way. I went to
Tokyo to visit her parents one day, and met her mother and
father and little brother. They were a wonderful family. I
taught her brother how to make a hangmans noose with
string, which he enjoyed very much. Mom and dad did
not speak English so Nardiko would translate, and I could
carry on a limited conversation with the Japanese I knew.
When her brother came back into the room with a statue of
the emperor hanging from a hangmans noose, I immedi-
ately said Dame, Dame which means very bad. This was
picked up by others, and a good laugh was had by all.
It was possible to go to Tokyo on the trains which were
very effcient, and sometimes crowded. At six foot-two
inches tall I could usually see over the heads of most
persons around me. Japanese school boy and girls would
look at my shoes, and point. I wore a size 13 at that time. I
would respond with I have big feet, dont I? in Japanese
and laughter would erupt.
One day I was sitting next to a well dressed Japanese
man on the train going into Tokyo when I noticed that my
watch had stopped. (Remember winding the watch?) I
asked the gentleman siting next to me could you please
tell me what time it is? He replied No speak English. I
then asked him daijobu, nan ji desu ka? which translates
thats ok, what time is it? He replied with the correct
time. I said arigato which is thank you. He then said
something like You speak Japanese? and I answerer hai,
sukoshi nihongo dekimasu. which translates to Yes, I
speak a little Japanese. He then started speaking to me in
English. He spoke very good English, but did not want to
speak to a kid who was a member of the occupation forces
until he learned that I cared enough to try to learn about his
country and language. While I was in Japan I met very few
Japanese who could be classifed as unfriendly, but I did
meet some ugly Americans - and they made me ashamed of
being from the same country that they were.
One day in Tokyo, on the Ginza, I was bargaining with
a Japanese man who was selling items from a push cart.
He spoke very little English. I would ask him ikura desu
ka? (How much is it?) He would reply with ku ju yen
(90 yen). I would then say itai (that hurts). Watashi wa
bimbo desu, anata wa takusan okane o mote imasu (I am
poor and you have a lot of money). He would laugh, and
start bargaining over the price. We would agree, I would
give him a little bow, and say thank you, he the same with
youre welcome. And our transaction was over. He was
still wearing his Japanese army hat, and I was in my US
Air Force uniform. We were laughing together when six
or eight years ago we would have been trying to kill each
other. There are no enemies, just friends that you have not
had a chance to know yet. Pardon my Japanese, as it has
been over 60 years since I have really used the language.
One traumatic event took place on the base that was
close to us. The barracks next to us burned down. The
Japanese fre fghters rapidly started to confne the fre
as the dry wood was an inferno. They placed a barrier
consisting of posts between that barracks and ours, and that
meant - that fre will not cross this line! It did not, no lives
were lost, but many possessions were lost including some
vehicles outside of the barracks.
A B-29 crashed on takeoff with a load of bombs and
full gas tanks. The crew all safely evacuated the aircraft.
The Japanese fre department arrived, not knowing that the
crew had evacuated the aircraft, prepared their equipment,
yelled Banzai, and jumped on the burning aircraft to cut
out the Plexiglas windows to help the crew out. The plane
exploded with fremen on top. Some were killed. Injured
fremen were treated in the base hospital and were visited
and commended by the base commander. See page 46.
The guards on our aircraft at the base were Japanese,
armed with 30 caliber carbines, the same weapon we had
when we were on guard duty back in the states. The honor
and loyalty of the Japanese nationals working for us was
beyond reproach, as best I can determine from what I saw
and what I heard and read.
Yokota
AirForce
Base
43
One event which took place was a bit closer to me. We
had just completed our mission, had landed and I was sign-
ing off on my radio log, putting things in order and pre-
paring to depart from the aircraft through the front wheel
exit, our usual method of entrance and egress. I picked up
my parachute, a front type which was necessary to pass
between the gun turret and the navigators position, and
went down the ladder to the ground. I heard someone yell
to me - Get over here!! My crew was on the other side
of an earth embankment about forty feet from the aircraft.
I looked around and saw that the plane was on fre. I ran!
I had taken my headset off too early and did not hear the
command from the aircraft commander to get off the air-
craft, its on fre. I dont remember where the fre was, but it
wasnt too bad, and the Japanese fremen quickly put it out.
Keep the dumb headset on until you are ready to leave the
plane!
Back to the Ginza again. One afternoon on the Ginza
I was approached by a Japanese artist who was drawing
portraits in pencil. Wanting to help the local economy I
agreed to pose for him. Well, that portrait is yellowed by
over 55 years of sitting around in storage being sketched on
July 3, 1951. If you want to know the name of the person
who sketched it, look on the portrait because it is signed. I
do not think it will ever be of any real value since the artist
and the subject are not well known, but it does catch the
portrait of a very young
airman (see the wings on
the uniform) with blue
eyes (it took me 55 years
to notice that) and an
even younger mustache.
After the portrait was
completed, the artist pre-
sented it to me. I looked
at it and said chotto matte
kudasai (just a minute,
please) and pointed to
what was located under
my nose. He grinned
and quickly sketched in
the mustache, the fnal
touch to a Ginza masterpiece.
Masaya Abe was another friend whom I knew from the
base. He was the assistant to the Catholic Priest who gave
me instructions and arranged for my admission into the
Catholic church. He would often assist at mass, and he
would be there when we went to communion before going
on a combat mission. He and I talked a lot, and kept up
a series of yearly letters for many years afterwards. We
exchanged pictures and news of our families. He had two
beautiful daughters and I still have the pictures to prove it.
One time, when he was in New York City for his company,
he called and we spoke for a long time. This continued as
we both grew older, and he stated that he was having eye
trouble, and in his 1991 letter he stated that his health was
not good, and
if we do not see
each other again,
he will meet
me in Heaven.
I received cards
from him in 1992
and 1993 where
he wrote about
his granddaugh-
ter. Then the
letters stopped.
Attempts to
reach him by
telephone did not
succeed.
See you soon,
Mike.
Fujiyama could be seen from Yokota AFB, and is as
much a symbol of Japan as the rising sun.
44
Nardiko and I also exchanged letters for a while. I know
that she wanted me to bring her to America with me, but
the anti Japanese sentiment was still strong in the United
States. We met for a last time in the library on the base,
and just talked for a long while. She was a great doodler,
and the sketch on this page shows some of her work. I
was going by the name of Mac, rather than Dean then, and
we, the Keller family, were able to take the letters of our
last name and draw an aeroplane. So we were sketching
back and forth, about the plane going down, and she drew a
safety net to catch me, and the words include Daijobu,
which means Its OK. It was a bitter-sweet moment for
both of us. And in the time that I knew her, I never even
tried to kiss her, but we had a deep friendship. I still have
her letters, but lost her picture. After a while the letters
stopped. I dont remember who stopped frst.
In his radio address to the Japanese people prior to the
Surrender to the allied forces, Emperor Hirohito stated the
following:
We are keenly aware of the inmost feelings of all of
you, our subjects. However, it is according to the dictates
of time and fate that we have resolved to pave the way for
a grand peace for all the generations to come by enduring
the [unavoidable] and suffering what is unsufferable. Hav-
ing been able to save *** and maintain the structure of the
Imperial State, we are always with you, our good and loyal
subjects, relying upon your sincerity and integrity.
Beware most strictly of any outbursts of emotion that
may engender needless complications, of any fraternal con-
tention and strife that may create confusion, lead you astray
and cause you to lose the confdence of the world.
Let the entire nation continue as one family from genera-
tion to generation, ever frm in its faith of the imperishable-
ness of its divine land, and mindful of its heavy burden
of responsibilities, and the long road before it. Unite your
total strength to be devoted to the construction for the fu-
ture. Cultivate the ways of rectitude, nobility of spirit, and
work with resolution so that you may enhance the innate
glory of the Imperial State and keep pace with the progress
of the world.
With this declaration of intent by the Emperor and under
the magnifcent leadership of General Douglas MacArthur
the Japanese people have been changed from a ferce en-
emy to a sincere and dependable ally. The order given for
the United States military to treat the Japanese with respect
has made this transition from hated foes to friends take
place in a very short period of time.
By the time that I arrived in Japan, there was a spirit of
cooperation in our joint attempt to end the new and terrible
war in Korea. We worked together as allies and friends. As
a result of this leadership and the character of the Japanese
people, Japan is now a fourishing nation, among the fnest
in the family of industrial and democratic nations, in the
world. I could go on for hours, but I believe that the few
words here adequately express my experience with the
Japanese people.
My daughter-in-law Mary has a niece, Jessica, who is
close to me. Jessica is married to a fellow Japanese teacher,
Ken Nishizuka, and this year, 2009, she gave birth to a little
girl, Aya (Colorful). Now my extended family includes
Hispanic, Navajo, Hungarian, Guamanians, Italians and
Japanese as well as a person of color who is a step son-
in-law. I love them all.
Jean, my wife, has a long time friend and hairdresser,
Ikuko, who is from Okinawa. When we were courting,
Ikuko insisted on meeting me and checking me out. We
went to her house, she welcomed us. When I was in the
house I unfurled the Japanese fag that I had with me. I
then sang Kimigayo, the Japanese national anthem. She
stood there with her mouth hanging open as I spoke to her
in my limited Japanese, ending with Doko ni benjo wa
arimasu ka? (Where is the toilet?) We had a great time,
and whenever Ikuko and I happen to meet in the grocery or
elsewhere, we go into a little routine, keeping in mind my
limited Japanese, and we sound like natives. Enough of this
for now!
45
East is East and West is West,
And now the two have met.
Ready for adventures together
That neither will ever forget.
For one says Love, the other says Ai
And they both mean the same.
Together yes, sayonara no
You two have to play the game.
You two, together, will meet the world
And the world will learn to love you
And know that you have love from us
And from our God above you.
Jessica Lanterman, above, is the daughter of my daughter-in-law Marys sister, Lisa. I dont know her relationship to
me, but my wife, Jean, and I both love her. She was teaching in Japan and met Ken Nishizuka who was also a teacher, and
they decided to become man and wife. At a reception in their honor in Coweta, OK, we celebrated the marriage of these
two young persons. There was a storm, the lights went out, and I was asked to write a poem for these two. In the dark, by
light from a fashlight, I wrote the above. They now have a little girl named Aya (Beautiful in Japanese)
=======================================================================================
Another wedding to the
right. Our room atten-
dant, formerly of the
Japanese army, weds a
wife. About sixty years
apart!
46
On November 18, 1951, a B-29 with
serial number 44-86247 crashed on takeoff
from Yokota Air Force Base. Captain John
P. Brennan was the Aircraft Commander
on this mission. The crew was able to exit
the aircraft with only minor injuries. The
Japanese frefghters came upon the scene
not knowing that the crew had abandoned
the aircraft.
With a shout of Banzai these fremen climbed on the aircraft
without regard for their own safety, and started cutting away at the
Plexiglas scanner positions on the sides and the top of the aircraft.
This aircraft was with the 98th bomb group, 344th Bomb Squadron.
Because of the probable nature of the
mission, there possibly was a full bomb
load on the aircraft, and the addition of
a full load of 130 octane gasoline there
would have been a very large explosion.
This took the lives of eleven frefght-
ers. These former enemies gave their
lives to try to save American lives. This
is a great tribute to the Japanese people
who could give us a lesson in DUTY-
HONOR-COUNTRY.
Chapel is the place designated
for this collection
B-29 44-86247
There were also good times!
The groom, just to the the left of the beautiful bride,
is Toshi, a former Japanese soldier who kept our
area clean. We all contributed to his happiness by
taking his wedding photograph and with money.
This was a traditional Japanese wedding ceremony.
47
Spiritual aspects of my Japanese Adventure
If you have remained awake this long, you have read
about the military aspects of my guided tour of the far
east and of my impression and friendship with the Japa-
nese people. What follows is a discourse on my search
for my Creator, the most important aspect of determining
the rest of my life. First I would like to digress a bit to
set the stage for what follows. I was 19 years old when I
frst experienced the concept that someone was trying to
kill me. It wasnt much, just black puffs in the sky around
us, and those with combat experience took it in stride. Lt.
Grothmann, our co-pilot, was impressed too. He got on
the intercom and stated Oh boy! Oh boy! This is almost
like being in a war. Our offcers few over Europe in WW
2, and this was like play for them at this time. But when
the forces below get lucky, it is no longer play. I was a bit
concerned, but I did not let it interfere with my work. Then
some events happened which gave increased meaning to
combat.
I arrived at Yokota Air Force base, Japan, in June 1951
to serve as a radio operator on a B-29 reconnaissance air-
craft, fying combat missions over Korea and surveillance
missions off the coast of the Soviet Union. The spiritual
aspects of my journey through life slowly took roots as I
was subjected to more combat events, and forces of good
and evil were working for and against me. When I arrived
in Japan I had no idea of what or who God was, or what
was my relationship with Him. I had memorized verses
from the Bible, but they were meaningless to me. I had
been baptized as a young boy, but this was because my
grandmother said it would make her very happy. And I
attended the Baptist Church on Carrollton Avenue in New
Orleans, but my most profound memories of the church
were the group of boys from a boys home who picked on
me. My dad was out of the Catholic Church because he
married my mother who had been divorced. Mom did not
like the Baptist Church since there was a tendency for the
preacher to shout and condemn. I went to the Christian
Science Church with her, and it was very calm and nice, but
there was no bond that I had with it.
So, I was sort of an empty vessel, needing to be flled
with Gods love, but this was not too easy. Looking around
I found that Christianity was in chaos, with sometimes open
battles between various segments of the faith. So I started
asking questions and reading the Bible, the King James
Version, which is not an easy book to understand. Opinions
ranged from one end to the other. I was looking for order
and love and found mostly confusion. There were incidents
of persons who disagreed completely with my seeking
anything of this sort. And they could quote - or misquote
the Bible. But one member of my crew took this to a much
higher level.
A Test of Faith, or did the Devil make him do it?
I would like to relate an experience that took place in
our room in our barracks. Before I had access to the newer
translation of the bible which was available through the
Catholic Chaplain, I was sitting on my bed trying to
understand the old English in the King James version of the
Bible. Our tail gunner, who drank quite a lot, came over
to me and asked what are you reading? I told him, and he
told me to put that blankidy-blank thing away. I replied,
No, Oris, this is my bunk and that is your bunk, and I can
do what I want to do here just as you can do what you want
to do in your area. That did not satisfy him, so he went
back to his bunk, and then came back to my bunk with
his 45 caliber pistol in his hand. He told me again to put
that blankidy-blank thing away, and instead of fear, I felt
a peace come over me. I repeated This is my bunk, and
that is your bunk, and I can do what is pleasing to me in my
area. The pistol was loaded; shell in the chamber? I do
not know. We all carried pistols while on base with loaded
clips.
Oris was getting angry, and he was quite drunk at the
time. He would empty his footlocker each payday and
place a ffth of whisky in the locker for each day of the
month. By that time, this drama was being noticed by
some of the other crew members, and Oriss drinking
buddy came over to him, placed a hand on his shoulder,
and started talking to him about going into town for a few
hours. Shooting me and messing up the room did not seem
to be as good an alternate as going into town with a buddy,
and as Ralph (I believe) talked to him, he also placed his
hand on the pistol, which Oris willingly gave up, and peace
returned to the room.
This is the frst time that I felt the Peace of Christ, even
though I was quite confused as to who Jesus or God really
were. I made no mention of the incident to anyone, and
the crew was pleased that I did not. This would have been
a disaster for crew moral. I guess that this is the frst time
I learned that you have to forgive your enemies, even when
they are your friends. My relationship with Oris and the
rest of the enlisted crew was good or even better after that
incident. I never held it against him, but thanked God that
Oris gave me the opportunity to stand up for my faith, even
if I didnt understand what that faith was. God bless you,
Oris.
Religious Advice of All Types is Readily Available
After much study and advice from friends, one of whom
was a Catholic with Pentecostal knowledge, whatever that
is, I summed the answers up like this. The Protestant Chap-
lain told me that if you accepted Jesus as a personal savior,
and really believe in Him, and constantly read your Bible,
you have a good chance of going to heaven. The Catholic
Chaplain told me that if you go to confession, go to com-
munion, get killed, you go to heaven, no ifs, ands, or buts.
But, by what authority and experience did this chaplain
speak? This Chaplain had books on supernatural signs of
Gods grace, and actual frst hand experience with living
48
miracles to relate to me to bolster my rather weak faith. So,
after a short while, I was taking instruction in the Catholic
faith from Father Schaefer who had experience with the
supernatural.
He was in Europe during WW 2 and ended up near Kon-
nersreuth, Bavaria where Therese Neuman lived. Therese
Neumann was a mystic and stigmatist in the Catholic
Church, who bore the wounds of Christ in her hands, in
her side and in her feet. Her life was a living miracle, and
Father Schaefer was privileged to witness many of the mi-
raculous events that took place in her life every day. I have
a book about Therese Newmann and another book by Rene
Biot entitled The Enigma of the Stigmata. Both books are
very interesting, detailed and pragmatic. Another stigmatist
who was alive at the same time was Padre Pio who lived
in Italy. I had no experience with the supernatural at that
time, and the frst hand account of Gods presence on earth
was very encouraging to a scared 19 year old combat air-
man.
He Touched Me
My frst supernatural experience took place in the
Blessed Sacrament Chapel of the St. Josephs Orphanage,
in Tanashi, Japan. I was kneeling at the altar with no one
else in the chapel, when a feeling of peace, love, tingling
and I just cant describe what else came over me. Some-
thing like rivers of fowing water immersed me completely
in Gods love. I did not want it to ever end, but it did. It
happened twice again in my life, but neither as intense as
this frst time, once when I prayed for my wife with her
arthritis pains and once when I went into New Orleans to
visit with my mother in early 1970. I KNEW that God was
there, and that He loved me. Love was communicated, but
there were no thoughts to direct me or communicate with
me about other matters.
After receiving instruction for a few months from Fr.
Schaefer, I was confrmed in the Roman Catholic Church
on October 22, 1951 by Maximilien de Furslenberg, Papal
Nuncio to Japan.
It is play time at Yokota. Earth structure is slit trench
for use in air raids. (never used) Slim, trim and armed
to the teeth.
49
What if He should call tonight
And say to me?,
Thy days on earth are done,
Come my son,
The judgment is at hand.
Would I, with quickening of heart
Respond to His call
And say, Im ready, judge,
My Lord, my God, my All.
And when the Book of Life
Is placed before my eager eyes,
Will I see in print so bold my name?
Or will I forgotten be,
As I have oft forgotten Thee, and
Will my heart with fear grow cold?
M. Dean Keller, 1951, Korean War
91st Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron
Boeing RB-29, Yokota. AFB, Japan
My Lord, My God, My All. This was written while I was in Japan serving on a B-29 Reconnaissance aircraft during the
Korean police action. It was written shortly after October 23, 1951 when my best buddy, Gerald Johnson, was shot down
over Korea. He died later in a prison camp. That started me thinking seriously about my own mortality although I had
been shot at before, but missed. So I started writing and this is the results. I am at peace with the last part of the poem.
Oh my God,! Forget me not.
Guide my days on earth;
Fill my heart with Your praise,
And my labor with Your works.
So on that day
When at last I hear You call,
Ill say
Im ready Lord, my God, my All.
My Lord, my God, my All
50
Discharge, school, working, dating and marriage
Preparation for the rest of my life
On June 22, 1952 I arrived at Fairchild AFB near Spo-
kane, Washington for the remainder of my enlistment. I
had only signed up for three years, but was extended by six
months during the Korean War by President Harry Truman.
Since he had an atomic bomb and all I had was my fst and
a good sense of humor, I decided not to fght the extension,
except to appeal for an early discharge so I could attend
college. Fairchild was a good base and we few short mis-
sions just to get our fying time in for the month. We did
ferry an aircraft down to Georgia on November 12, 1952,
but otherwise we were not doing very much. It was inter-
esting going to Georgia and the Southern accent was music
to my ears. I missed, also, the Cajun talk in New Orleans
I had some friends in Spokane, and a nice drug store
(not a bar) to hang out in near the river front. It often had
young Spokane girls hanging out there also, and there was
no prejudice against persons in the Air Force like there
was in Biloxi, Mississippi. My own aunt who lived there
(Biloxi) warned me that the sweet young lady who lived
nearby was a nice girl, and I shouldnt see her. Mom
would have torn her apart if she knew that. It was my dads
brothers wife.
The snows that I experienced in Spokane were the
greatest that I had ever experienced. The snow (Yuki) at
Yokota was mild and in New Orleans was almost nonexis-
tent. I bought an old Chevrolet for a hundred or so dollars
which promptly gave me trouble. I never owned a General
Motors product since. I had a girl friend in Spokane, Flavia,
who was really nice, but logistics ruled out any longtime
relationship since I was planning on college.
I talked to the frst sergeant and commanding offcer
in my squadron at Fairchild AFB in Spokane, Washington
about obtaining an early discharge. I was not accomplish-
ing much at the base although I was NCOIC (Non-commis-
sioned offcer in charge) of an almost nonexistent section.
My OIC was a lieutenant, a very nice gentleman, who was
encouraging me to get started in college. He also gave me
some instructions in how calculus worked to perk my inter-
est. But other than that, our duties were to clean the B-29s
until they shined, keep the coal fred furnaces which heated
the barracks flled with coal (messy stuff), for which you
could get a three day pass, eat, sleep and make formation
each morning. I was starting to miss the combat missions.
Well, I told mom and dad about my minor problem, and
mom was a good friend of Hale Boggs, the House whip in
Congress. She sent him a letter, which he answered, telling
me to contact my commanding offcer again, and if there
was not a positive answer, he would see what he could do.
I did, showing them the letter, and was scolded for using
political infuence, and that this would put a bad mark on
my records. It did, and two days later I was called out of
formation for a physical for discharge. On December 15
three of us started off in the automobile of one of the other
two, taking turns driving through the night and through the
mountains (scary) and arriving in St. Louis, MO. There,
I took a train for New Orleans. I was in my dress blue
uniform with combat ribbons, and tired from driving. The
train was not flled, and I went to sleep across two seats.
Passengers on the train took care of me, covering me with a
blanket and watching over me, like the little boy that I still
was. Home is the warrior, from across the sea.
I dont remember if I was picked up at the train station
or took a taxi home. But home I was, and I started to adapt
to the requirements of my next adventure.
All of my relationship bridges were burned, and I did
not want to try to renew them, but to concentrate on my
college work. I did visit Marguerite Dutriel, with whom I
went out once, but she was married and pregnant. We had
a nice talk together, and she even suggested a girlfriend for
me, but not before she told me that I had broken her heart.
She was a wonderful devout young lady who, unfortu-
nately, married an abusive person, and ended up dying early
after a severe mental breakdown. I have often wondered
what would have been the outcome if I had not turned my
back on her for another. I believe she would have been a
wonderful wife in every way. So the pains of young love
work both ways, to hurt the goose and the gander.
5l
It was good being back with mom and dad and visit with
the neighbors and old friends. I purchased a 1949 Ford
which got exceptional mileage, when gas was about thirty
cents a gallon. Dad fxed me up with health and auto insur-
ance, since he was in the insurance business as a part time
job, while working as a supervisor at the Public Service
Company in the Electrical Distribution Center. Often hed
get a phone call at 2:00 AM to go to work, there was a
storm in town since New Orleans had plenty of storms.
By that time dad was back in the Catholic Church and
mom had become Catholic also. She was a member of the
altar society and really enjoyed working with her neighbors
and friends at the church. I actually went to their wed-
ding, or at least the blessing thereof, but I was not the best
man. That was dad. It was so good to be legal. The church,
St. Agnes Church, was about a mile or so up the highway,
and across from the church was Schoffs bakery where I
spent many hours while delivering my newspapers in the
morning, and eating hot eclairs and donuts. I can still pic-
ture those early morning visits to the bakery where David
Schoff and his brother Steve were working in the back
making those wonderful treats for the Catholics after mass.
On schedule, I went down to Tulane University, which
was just a mile from the house along the river road and up
St. Charles Avenue, and took the SAT tests. I did not know
what these were, except that they were sort of an aptitude
test. I remember that I made a 93 (or in that range) percen-
tile on the mathematical test indicating that 93 percent of
the persons taking the test made lower grades than I did.
English and other subjects were above the middle of the
range.
In February, the second semester 52-53, I started classes
as an electrical engineering major at mid-term. It wasnt
easy and study was required as I had been out of high
school for over four years. All of the classes this semester
were basic classes in English, literature, math and elemen-
tary general engineering, with the classes in the major to
start in the second year. To make up some time I attended
summer school for four courses, and this helped my grades.
My classes were Analytic geometry, English, Calculus and
descriptive geometry. A for the frst three, B for the
last. Was I getting better, or was summer school just easier?
I dont know, but I was pleased.
Next semester, at the start of the semester, I took my frst
electrical courses, along with calculus, physics, surveying,
mechanics and literature. Either God did not want me to
go into electrical engineering, which would limit the places
that I could work, or I just wasnt smart enough. But Elec-
tric Measurements took me down with a D, the only one
in college. Toward the end of the frst semester I spoke to
Professor Walter E. Blessey about transferring to Civil En-
gineering. He was happy to have me, and we got along very
well. He and I had a good relationship starting in school
and through my professional career. He gave me a great
letter of recommendation and we had many exchanges over
the years. He ultimately became national president of the
American Society of Civil Engineers, a very high honor,
while I became president of the New Mexico Section. I
must say that he had one fault; whenever he talked to me
he would always start my calling me by my unmentionable
frst name. I would counter by calling him Emmanuel, his
middle name.
I went to Professor Dan Vliet in the Electrical Engineer-
ing school and told him that I was changing to civil engi-
neering. He asked me why. I told him that I was failing
the course with 30s and 40s on the tests. I was already
committed to the change when he told me I was in the top
third of the class. I am happy that I made the change. My
employment opportunities were much improved, and the
professional recognition that I received in civil engineer-
ing far outweighed any that I could have had in electrical
engineering. Next semester was summer session, 1954,
chemistry - with two As for a real lift.
The next year I was back on schedule for early gradua-
tion, May 1956, and did reasonably well with Civil Engi-
neering courses. Just Bs and Cs - not an A in the
batch. Then came summer camp where we were out in the
woods in Gurley, Louisiana, and I learned what it was to
take a cold shower and sleep in tents. It wasnt that bad in
the Air Force. You should hear the yells when the outdoor
shower was turned on and the young bucks yelled for joy as
the cold water hit their bodies. Some foolishness also, like
pulling out the stakes on tents and have other victims of
this civil engineering torture awakened in the middle of the
night to crawl out from under their tents. No! I didnt do
it. I was too mature to take part in the foolishness of these
younger students.
From June 1955 to August 1955 I had managed to slip
in a real job during a summer working with the Louisi-
ana State Department of Highways on an overpass being
constructed near Carrollton and Tulane Avenues. We were
driving piles, casting concrete and working with union
craftsmen. I leaned at that time that some union members
tend to think that they are better than college kids. It
was interesting and a chance to get my hands dirty. I did
reasonable well, but it took me a few years to learn that I
could learn more from the feld construction personnel than
I could from any other source. With the summer classes
and starting mid-term I managed to complete the work for a
degree in civil engineering in three years and three months.
For all of this time, I was living with mom and dad on
the GI Bill. I did supplement my income by other means
from delivering newspapers, my summer job, working in
the Registrars offcer at Tulane, baby-sitting a pile test
across the river for Raymond Prestressed Concrete Com-
pany (Guy LeMieux in my class had an older brother who
was head of the company in New Orleans), teaching draft-
ing at Jesuit High School, and other odd jobs. I applied at
the Jefferson Downs for a job as a cashier or seller in the
ticket part of the business. They said that they did not have
any openings. I was a bit discouraged, and discussed this
with mom and dad. Mom, being part of the Democratic
party in Jefferson Parish, was a friend of Sheriff Frank
52
Clancy. She told the sheriff about the problem, and he
gave her a phone number to call if I applied again - for the
person interviewing me.
Frank Clancy was a dictator, but a benevolent one.
During the depression he would pay for prescriptions for
persons who couldnt pay for their own, and helped many
with money earned by the gambling interest in the Parish.
When my dad came down with TB in 1948 he had to go to
a VA hospital for treatment. Sheriff Clancy came over to
the house one day to visit mom and ask how dad was doing.
Upon leaving he gave mom fve one-hundred dollar bills to
help cover expenses. At that time, that was a lot of money.
I did apply again and when I heard the same story, even
about the weekends, I handed the person the phone num-
ber. He called and said my name, then, yes sir, yes sir, yes
sir. He then asked me if I could start work this weekend.
I worked there in 1953 through 1955. It was interesting
work, and I also worked, same years, at the track in New
Orleans.
After a short courtship, I married Connie Tusa on Feb-
ruary 20, 1955 and my grades immediately got better. No
more late night hours. On the negative side, as I became
more involved in life, I lost my thoughts about death and
became a Sunday go-to-church Catholic. Things took their
course and my oldest son, David, was born on May 13,
1956 (Mothers day), a couple of weeks before graduation.
My wife, Connie, was up and around and able to attend
my graduation ceremony on May 28, 1956 with a degree
of Bachelor of Science in Civil Engineering, even though
I was no longer a bachelor. She received a PHT certifcate.
That stands for Putting hubby through. She did work dur-
ing the frst months of our marriage.
The Corps of Engineers in New Orleans offered me a
job, and since it was the only one that I received because of
a down-turn in work at that time, I took it. I can honestly
say that after three and one quarter years of college, I really
didnt know squat, and it took time for my brain and my
subconscious functions to learn and sort things out.
During the time that I spent with the Corps I was on a
training program, and did learn a bit, even co-authoring a
paper on the fow of the Mississippi river, but did not really
further my professional education very much. I also started
graduate school at Tulane, being admitted on September 21,
1956. Married life must have agreed with me since I had a
3.5 average in graduate school and received my Master of
Science in Engineering on August 26, 1961. While I was
studying in graduate school a few things happened: I left
the Corps after about eleven months, about April 1957, and
went to work with Bedell and Nelson, Engineers. They
had a major project with the Grand Isle Offshore Sulphur
mine in the Gulf of Mexico off of the coast of Louisiana for
Freeport Sulphur Company.
We rented a shotgun house for a few months, then
purchased a house on Carolyn Drive in Harahan under the
GI Bill. The cost was $15,353, with three dollars down and
the remainder at four percent interest. While we were liv-
ing in Harahan, Steve was born on February 28, 1958, just
missing having a March birthday. It was Davids fault be-
cause he had locked himself in the bathroom and wouldnt
come out, causing his frustrated mother to go into earlier
labor than she should have.
The work at Bedell and Nelson was fabulous. The proj-
ect consisted of a power plant, two drilling platforms for a
start, a heliport, and a housing unit. All units were prefab-
ricated in Houston and shipped by barge to the site for erec-
tion. The stripped sections (half of the unit) of the power
plant were constructed of structural steel and weighed 642
tons each. All sections of the facility were connected by
200 feet long steel truss bridges.
There were three structural engineers on this project.
Jim Simmons, the lead engineer who had much experience,
George Guiterras (from Greece) a classmate of mine and
me- one leader and two learners. And learn we did, we had
no choice since we were expected to do so. It was dur-
ing this assignment that my subconscious mind began to
assimilate my engineering information, and after a while I
was approached as one who could think analytically.
A new worlds record for the largest single overwater
lift was set when the 642 ton power plant deck sections
were set in November, 1958. The decks must bear the
tremendous weight of boilers, compressors, turbines,
pumps, etc.
53
The structures were supported on steel piles driven
through a steel template into the Gulf bottom to competent
soil material. The water was about 45 feet deep at that lo-
cation, and the structure was about 70 feet above the water.
It was designed to function after being subjected to the
highest hurricane winds and hurricane force wave recorded
in this section of the Gulf of Mexico. There was a profes-
sional paper with graphs and charts entitled Generalized
solutions for laterally loaded piles written to determine
forces for hurricane waves written by Dr. Lyman Reese and
Dr. Hudson Matlock of Austin, Texas.
I wrote Lyman and he was kind enough to send me a
copy, which we used for the project. About 25 years later
I hired his company to help with engineering problems at
Los Alamos. He was partially retired, but still working
to share his expertise with others. The engineering feld
becomes very close at times.
This was a frst for me, and for all others in the offce
and we did well. I led the design on this part of the project
and using the charts and calculations in these papers we
were able to calculate the loading on the piling which is
added to the hurricane forces on the structures above. In
the late 1990s the structure was transferred to Louisiana Ar-
tifcial Reef Program and is now the worlds largest artifcial
reef, and rests on the bottom of the Gulf.
Another innovation that took place was the design of the
power plant. The trusses in the power plant were vierndeel
trusses, in both directions. There were no diagonal struc-
tural members between the truss column lines. Most engi-
neers would design it as a truss with a non yielding support
at each column, which corresponded to each pile. That
did not seem correct to me. I guess my subconscious mind
was starting to work, or my Heavenly Father, whom I had
neglected for so long, was helping me in spite of my indif-
ference. But I knew that the piles would defect under the
heavy loading, and the spring constant could be calculated.
Jim and I calculated the spring constant. I belonged to
the McGraw-Hill Civil Engineering book club and bought
many engineering books. In one of these books, Advanced
Engineering Mechanics, there was a section on beams on
elastic foundations. We did not have computers at that
time, and we had to manually make a spread sheet and cal-
culate each load effect in both directions, and add them up.
This resulted in a much heavier structure than the solution
considering unyielding supports. However, when much
more experienced structural engineers were asked to review
the concept, they all said that it was sound. Talk about big
columns!! The columns were constructed of two W36x300
beams, designed as Maltese crosses using two beams with
one beam cut into two Ts and welded to the center of the
web of the other. In addition they had cover plates.
That work ran out, but a new opportunity became avail-
able at Prestressed Concrete Products in Mandeville, LA.
There I worked on the Causeway across Lake Pontchar-
train, the bridge between Slidell and New Orleans East,
and offshore structures. This was interesting work in that
we were actually at the concrete fabrication yard working
directly with the yard personnel on prestressed concrete
piling and 250 ton prestressed concrete bridge segments.
These were cast in Mandeville and transported by barge to
take their place in the 22 mile bridge across the lake. I was
still working on structures over water, but the water was
only 16 feet deep and the piling were concrete instead of
steel.
I had to design construction forms, equipment for feld
personnel and even extend and reinforce our barge, LB-1,
for greater loads then those for which it had been designed.
During Hurricane Katrina this easterly bridge lost many
slabs while the main 22 mile bridge came out almost un-
disturbed. This was very interesting working with the feld
crews, and sometimes having disagreements with them.
As my supervisor, David Milhan, said in letter of recom-
mendation to Los Alamos, Dean sometimes would get
into arguments with the feld personnel - but he was usually
right. During this time I also became involved with Civil
Defense and was appointed the Radiological Offcer for
Civil Defense for St. Tammany Parish.
Fun wise, Connie and I joined a square dance club
which had employees of our plant and others dancing every
week. It was great fun and we went from beginners to
very good in the matter of about six months. That pleasure
stayed with us through our stay in Madisonville, Slidell and
much of our time in Los Alamos.
One item which carried over to my work at Los Alamos
was the attempt to make an air bearing from a steel plate
with holes in it. We experimented with it but had mini-
mal success with actually using it to move heavy weights.
However the theory was sound and the bearings were being
developed at other locations, so the concept stuck with me
as a viable means of moving large and/or heavy objects.
This remained in my subconscious and during a pre-design
conference in Los Alamos for a shield door, I asked why
dont we foat it on air? This triggered a response from
a colleague who remembered that an air cushion had been
used at another site to transport and position heavy lead
glass shield windows. From there the concept exploded
until hundreds of thousands of dollars were saved and the
impossible was made possible, all based upon the memory
of an experiment that failed.
That work slowly ran out as the bridge just kept growing
day by day with minimum input from the Engineering staff.
However, the Boeing Company was hiring for construction
of the facilities at the Michoud Assembly Facility in New
Orleans to build the main booster for the Apollo Saturn
V-S1C to send a man to the moon. I worked on that, enjoy-
ing the pleasure and pain of accelerated schedules, and
complex work, and we did help to put a man on the moon.
With my Masters degree and knowledge of the soils in the
New Orleans area, my resume went to the head of the line.
54
This started a mixture of pleasure, pain, achievements
and mistakes as my now comfortable profession as an engi-
neer was suddenly thrust into management.
I started working at a desk in a big bull pen with hun-
dreds of others. After a short while my desk was moved
and I found myself in charge of the structural section. This
was my frst engineering experience in supervision, but
I must have done something right because before long I
found myself in charge of the structural, electrical, mechan-
ical and architectural sections. This was a time of changes,
short deadlines, furious work and the Cuban missile crisis.
Army trucks loaded with soldiers were going east on the
highway. It was also the time for good pay raises and a lot
of overtime at time + $1.85/hour. While there, we bought a
1965 Plymouth Station wagon - for cash.
I did well, and I made mistakes. I went from having a
section of 80+ persons to working with another person on
chemical ventilation problems. This was not due to the
objectives of the section not being fulflled, but because my
impatience with low performers was showing.
My more interesting work came when I was assigned to
a small group who were problem solvers. This is where I
did shine, and enjoyed the work thoroughly. My solutions
to problems were well received, but the work got slower
and slower as the facilities were being built. I turned in a
request for a transfer to a busier section of Boeing, but my
supervisor, Henry Foster, wrote across the top -Hell no!!
It appears that this was the start of the concept by man-
agement that if it is impossible and cant be done and ev-
eryone else has given up, give it to Keller. My impatience
with my own shortcomings became primary, and my efforts
to help low performers became more gentle although frm.
Looking back, I had many more opportunities to guide the
work of many engineers, draftsmen, technicians and crafts-
men, and in general we made a good team and they and
I profted professionally and spiritually in many aspects.
And it was very seldom dull!
So I went to another function, which became the guide
for the rest of my professional life. Whenever I did poorly,
because of extenuating circumstances, I would change
functions, increase my knowledge about another aspect of
engineering and come out better than I was before. It ap-
pears that I was on a massive training program which was
to continue the rest of my life, ultimately leading to my
relationship with my Creator, which is the most important
goal in life. And if I did well, as I did many times, I would
work myself out of a job, move on to another adventure and
increase my knowledge. The facilities were being built,
the work was slowing down and we all saw the fruit of our
labor when the Saturn S1C placed a man on the moon.
With a wife and three sons, Douglas having been born
on April 7, 1964, I now had to consider changing jobs,
and most probably moving again, but this time out of the
state. Leaving moms, dads and other family was diffcult
but most understood that the career must be considered as
necessary (unless they wanted us to move in with them and
live the life of boomerang children). We also promised
that we would return often to visit.
While work with engineering at the Boeing Company
was fast coming to an end, and our days at the offce were
now flled with boredom, others were hiring. A friend of
mine called and told me that there was a person in New Or-
leans who was interviewing for engineers for the Los Ala-
mos Scientifc Laboratory in New Mexico. He described
the area and said that the opportunities to do interesting
engineering work were fabulous. So I called and made an
appointment for an interview.
At the hotel in which the interviews were being held
I met Phil Reinig, who was the new Department head of
the Engineering Department. He was looking for engi-
neers to fll positions to meet the demand of future work.
I discussed my education and experience, giving him both
my achievements and where I had fallen short. I also gave
him references of persons who thought that I was great, and
some who did not share that feeling.
In November 1965 I received a call asking when I can
come to Los Alamos for an on-site interview. We agreed
on a date and in a couple of weeks I was on an aircraft for
the frst time in many years, but my target this time was a
position at the Los Alamos Scientifc Laboratory. I landed
at the Albuquerque Airport and immediately enjoyed the
favor of New Mexico. There were native Americans at
the airport, and a defnite Mexican lure to the surrounding
buildings and people. I then boarded a small two engine
aircraft which few directly to the airstrip in Los Alamos.
Government transportation was there to take me to the
Lodge where I spent the night in an upstairs room.
I was escorted into the Engineering offce building, met
many people, one who knew Prof. Blessey, and seemed to
make a good impression on all. I had to fll out security
forms there and at home. All of the above were success-
fully accomplished, and in a few days I was back in Slidell,
waiting. It wasnt long, and I was told to report for work
in a non-classifed area until my security clearance came
through.
55
It was the middle of December, 1965, when my new
adventure started. The day after I arrived in Los Alamos, I
received a temporary security pass and was escorted into
the Engineering Department offces for various interviews
and to a medical building for a cursory medical examina-
tion.
There was an offer by Russ Clough of the Boeing
company that a position could be given to me in his sec-
tion with the Boeing helicopter plant in Wichita, Kansas.
However, none was offered until after I had accepted an
offer for the Los Alamos Scientifc Laboratory. Even then,
they said that they could not match the salary offered by
Los Alamos.
We packed all of our things which were not sent by the
moving van in the 1965 Plymouth station wagon and the
1957 Ford. The Plymouth made it easily, even at higher
altitudes, but the Ford was getting tired from old age (I
know what that is like) and we had to shift the load on the
roof of the Ford to the Plymouth. The trip was otherwise
uneventful.
We made it in two days to Los Alamos and really re-
ceived a treat when we came over the hill towards Espanola
and saw the beautiful stretch of mountains, mesas and val-
leys. We stayed at a hotel in Santa Fe for a couple of days,
Connie, Dave, Steve, Doug Fritzie and me. Fritzie was
placed in a kennel at the motel, but he didnt like that at all.
We came back from supper that night and found him sitting
on our door step, so he spent the night in the bathroom at
the motel. Monday, we headed back up the hill to Los Ala-
mos, which was at 7500 ft. elevation, to the house that was
assigned to us. Our furniture came and we moved in. Then
came the snows, which the boys loved and Fritzie endured,
as he plowed through snow up to his shoulders. We settled
in and I started going to work.
We met a number of friendly persons in the frst few
days, and learned where the square dance clubs were and
became active. Dave and Steve were started in school,
and Doug and Fritzie stayed home to help their mother
straighten things up. There was a lot to do and Connie did
well at getting things in order and making new friends. The
houses were government owned at this time and prepara-
tions were being made to sell them to occupants. Our new
friends were eager to help us become acclimated to the
town and customs of this quaint community. There was a
lot to learn, and I did many brilliant and some stupid things,
but my work kept getting more interesting and I became
involved in community activities. Again, there was family,
fun, work and going to church on Sunday, but no advance
in my spiritual life.
As Phil Reinig used to say, were on a steep learning
curve! And it was a very steep learning curve. It took a
lot of time just to take my previous experience and apply
it to new methods, procedures, and regulations. I sure felt
dumb at times. But, everything slowly came together and
within a few months I was earning my keep, and more. My
frst assignment was as an engineer on the Los Alamos Me-
son Physics Facility, a 55 million dollar linear accelerator.
Thanks be to God, I was able to make major contribu-
tions at work, and received acknowledgement of such from
my superiors. I was doing well in Los Alamos and we
purchased a house in White Rock for about $25K, I became
president of the White Rock Homeowners Association, and
some political types placed me on the Charter Commission
to draft a new charter for Los Alamos County. I even had
one newspaper person, deluded of course, who said that I
was a new Jack Kennedy. Wow! Who needs God now that
no one is shooting at me and everything is turning up roses.
Well, the Holy Spirit thought that my attitude was not too
good, and I needed an attitude adjustment. And at that time
the Charismatic renewal (this Pentecostal thing that I had
heard about in Japan) was erupting all around the world.
First assignment
My frst assignment was as a structural engineer on the
Meson Physics Facility which was to be constructed on
Mesita de Los Alamos. My supervisor, Wes Trask, and I
started work by looking over the general criteria for this
project which was initially estimated with a construction
cost of 55 million dollars. With all equipment it fnally
ended with an actual cost of about one billion dollars.
But to start, we had to have a road going to the site of
the construction from East Jamez road, which connected
the hill (as Los Alamos proper was called) to State Road
4 at the eastern end of the mesa. So Wes and I walked the
road to be from East Jamez to the construction site to
be. No construction money was available, but there was
A/E (Architecture & Engineering) money available and it
sure smelled about the same. And besides, wasnt a road to
the site a necessary part of the A/E determination of how to
build the facility? So, a contract was let to design and build
a road going to the site. It worked out well, and my contri-
butions were small, as I was an apprentice at this time.
The architect selected for this project was Giffels and
Rosetti, later changed to Giffels and Associates, of Detroit,
Michigan. We had to make many trips to Detroit over the
next few years.
The Los Alamos National Laboratory, the Adventure of a Lifetime
56
Preparation for the construction of the facility had be-
gun. Soil borings were made and I had a marvelous time
studying the new foundation material, volcanic tuff. It was
completely different from the New Orleans fat clay. When
the volcano, the Jemez or Valles Caldera, erupted about a
million years ago, it spewed out forty cubic miles of volca-
nic material, known as the El Cajete Pumice or tuff. Some
of this tuff was ash fow and some was ash fall. The mate-
rial at the top of the ground in and around the Valle Grande
was primarily ash fall. Structurally speaking it varied from
rock that you can crumble in your hands (Unit 3 tuff - ash
fall) to competent material (Unit 2 or 1 tuff - hot ash fall or
possible some ash fow) which could support loads over 10
tons per square foot. It varied from one location to another,
usually with the weaker material being farther from the
volcano, and with depth. The various material strengths
also varied with the Units which were ash fows/falls with
the deeper material sometimes stronger. Borings had been
made all over the laboratory area, but a comprehensive
report of the static and dynamic properties of the tuff on
Mesita de Los Alamos was needed. I was assigned to do
this report.
This was really a fun but extensive project. First I had
to obtain all information that was available on the volcanic
tuff in Los Alamos, and in other sites. One thing that was
missing was load tests on the undisturbed tuff to correlate
the empirical to the theoretical. Using the Newmark curves
as a guide and soil borings, the correlation was established.
I also found that a large water tank that was in the last stage
of construction would have to be flled with water to test for
leaks. The laboratory quickly set up an agreement so that
the water tank could be flled with water in stages so that
deformation readings at distances from the tank could be
read by our survey teams. There was a boring nearby so we
were able to obtain that information at no additional cost.
Calculations of expected deformations were compared to
actual deformations.
Various amounts of C4 explosives were detonated at the
east end of Mesita de Los Alamos and readings were taken
at varying distances from the explosive with seismic type
equipment to determine attenuation of signals and resonant
frequencies of the tuff material. Sorry to go into so much
detail, but this was a hell of a lot of fun. It ended with a
seminar about the geological characteristics of Mesita de
Los Alamos before members of MP (Meson Physics) Divi-
sion and other personnel involved with the LAMPF (Los
Alamos Meson Physics Facility) Project. Important inter-
ested AEC (Atomic Energy Commission) personnel came
to Los Alamos to hear the presentation. I gave the presen-
tation, and it was a success. But most enjoyable of all, I
had found a project and employer which challenged me
more than I had ever had been challenged before and gave
me resources to do the job.
The family settles in - three houses
We started our lives in Los Alamos in half of a duplex
government constructed house on 36th street. When we
learned that persons occupying a house would be able to
purchase it, we checked with personnel and found that the
purchase of the house was allowed on a formula based
upon years of service and salary. I had very few years
of seniority, but found that my salary was high enough to
make us eligible for the next vacancy. I learned later that a
special dispensation had to be obtained to offer me that sal-
ary. Thank you, Boeing, for your generous pay raises.
So inquires were made and the Keller family moved to
a house on 48th street, at the top of the town, one of the
streets which was at the highest elevation of houses in the
town. We bought the house when it was offered for some
amount under $6000 and sold it a year or so later to build
our own house in White Rock, a bedroom community at
a lower elevation, about 6300 feet. When I was in Los
Alamos for the interview I picked out an empty lot in White
Rock and reserved it in case I got the job. Everything
worked out well, and the house was constructed for about
$25,000, almost double the cost of the house in Harahan.
When the house was completed we all moved down to
White Rock and became involved in the community. My
commute to work was now about ten miles instead of about
forty miles in New Orleans, with an increase of 1200 feet in
elevation between our house and place of employment.
Some of the people whom I met took a liking to me, and
before I knew what was happening I was president of the
White Rock Home Owners Association. I now had to get
rid of my fear of giving a talk to many, or making
57
proposals to important people. I was now in the limelight
at times and had to learn to speak in public and to persons
in management. The boys changed school, and Fritzie had
a big yard to run around in, with snakes and all. Fritzie
stood between the boys and a snake in Slidell and did so
in White Rock also. At this time I had a 38 revolver with
catridges loaded with #9 shot which was excellent for
handling the rattlesnake problems in White Rock. When
we moved in, there were very few houses constructed in the
area and wildlife was abundant, especially raccoons which
I didnt really get to know about their presence until the
1990s. We were now moved in and committed to working
in Los Alamos for the long haul.
Big Scare
We traveled to New Orleans as often as we could to visit
our parents, taking the boys along. We had a station wagon
equipped with a small TV in the back so the boys could
watch TV when we were in range. The TV was purchased
separately, not built in as they did later.
After one trip we were tired and angry when we returned
home and it seems that no one wanted to get along with
any one else. Being Catholic, I knew that I was in a state
of mortal sin and had to go to confession and receive
absolution, or go straight to Hell- do not pass go, do not
collect $100! One evening I felt a pain on my right side in
my abdomen, and we called a doctor. It was late, but he
said that he would stop by on his way home. He did. After
some probing and induced pain in the area he told me to go
to the hospital.
There I was met by Dr. Greer, a wonderful Christian as
well as a good doctor. He called in Dr. Dodson, a surgeon,
and they did their doctor things, and said it was probably
the appendix. No one was sure, but Dr. Dodson bet Dr.
Greer $10 that it was. Dr. Greer accepted that bet. So on
a bet I was going into surgery, and was I scared. I had
responsibilities now. I called the Church to see if Father
Borgman could come hear my confession. We couldnt
reach any priest, and I said my pitiful act of contrition and
went into the operating room scared, more so than during
any of my time in combat. Now I had a wife and three
children as my responsibility.
The betting doctors were correct, the appendix was re-
moved, and I survived, as obvious by my writing this now.
At that time I questioned having to go through any church,
person or organization, because they may not be available.
I had to establish a direct communication with my God.
I had my spleen removed some time after this, and Con-
nie was down in the hospital lunch room, and heard some
of the nurses and attendants talking about my operation less
than an hour after it was completed. One said Did you
see how Dean was when he was wheeled into the operating
room, smiling, waving to friends, joking with the nurses.
Another said Yes, and when we were about to start, he
made the sign of the cross, and peacefully went under the
anaesthesia.
This event was an eye opener for me. When we were
fying combat, we would go to confession and communion
before each fight. And for me, remaining in a state of
grace was easy because I did not allow my carnal desires to
rule my life. In addition, I was not married and the almost
impossible requirements of the Catholic church for married
persons were not a problem. However, with marriage and
three children, no birth control and other regulations by the
church made it diffcult to stay in what was considered a
state of grace and not live a lie. This was also hindered
by the sometimes arguments which were very painful.
It was then that I became determined to having a rela-
tionship with my Creator which did not need the interces-
sion of any person or any church. This was contrary to
Catholic doctrine, and I did love the church. So, I just kept
quiet about my beliefs and tried to walk this different path
and still remain a contributing member of the church.
Father Borgman, who was a young priest, was very
comfortable to be around, even during confession. He later
left the priesthood and became a hospital administrator.
Some members of the church quietly went to speak with
persons who were having problems with Vatican decrees,
and explained that these rather harsh statements should not
be taken as law.
There was still a battle within me about truth. I could
not accept the church as having the complete truth, remem-
bering history and Copernicus, Galileo, the crusades and
the inquisition which the church had in its background. So I
just did the best I could, keeping in step with the church as
much as possible, but keeping an open mind in my search
for a better relation with my God. My walk with my Cre-
ator had begun.
Professional development and lots of work
There was a lot of work to do and I was in the middle of
it. Regular trips to Detroit were taken as we developed the
criteria for the facility. There were wonderful successes
and some embarrassing happenings. We kept working
on our geotechnical knowledge, and the volcanic tuff was
not always easy to understand. It had the characteristics of
rock and sand and all points in between. More tests were
conducted, one with Project Gasbuggy in Colorado. This
was the explosion of a nuclear device at a depth in a gas
feld to develop a holding chamber for natural gas. We had
the USGS on contract, with Wendell V. Mickey in charge,
to lay out seismic detectors and recorded the signals after
that detonations. We obtained good data.
Thinking that I knew something about the tuff, I pro-
posed using high explosions to knock off loose tuff at the
top of the LAMPF beam excavation. It was a magnifcent
sight as the explosives all went off, and the tuff adsorbed
the explosion without dropping. I was embarrassed, but
shrugged my shoulders as the construction workers got on
58
Baptism of the Holy Spirit
Twas Grace that taught my heart to fear, and Grace that
fear relieved. In 1968, I went to the medical building at the
Los Alamos Scientifc Laboratory for my three year physi-
cal. It was discovered that there was a problem with my
blood, and there started a long journey of my discovering
Gods love through fear and pain. An initial examination
in Denver, Colorado, incorrectly diagnosed, was that I had
a serious blood disease and had about fve months to live.
At age 37, with a wife and three children to support, this
was quite a shock. Dr. Rembe in Albuquerque corrected
the diagnosis to Hairy Cell Leukemia which, although not
a rapidly advancing leukemia, was very rare and the only
known treatment was to remove the spleen. This was ac-
complished with some interesting side adventures which
developed in me, as I had in combat, a desire to be closer to
my Creator.
I met some persons who came to the hospital to pray
for me, especially Ben Dirks who had a healing ministry in
the Catholic Church in Los Alamos to which we belonged,
and which was then deeply involved in the Charismatic
Renewal of the 1970s. But after the spleen was removed I
improved in health and added something else to work and
play, the Charismatic Renewal.
Ben Dirks came to the hospital room to pray for me.
Connie was desperate and called Ben when she heard of his
close ties with our Father. She brought him to the hospital
and Connie told me about him and asked if he could pray
for me. I have often placed the needs of others before
mine, and the frst thoughts that came to my mind were of
Bethy Britt, one of Dougs friends, who lived two houses
east of us. She was afficted with childrens leukemia. I
told Ben, no, pray for Bethy, she needs it more than I do. I
believe he assured me that he would, and did pray for me,
and I vaguely remember some of his prayer being some-
thing that I couldnt understand. Bethy did not make it, but
I did. Why, I do not know. Ben and his wife Emmaline
introduced Connie and me to Chester Kazak who led the
renewal within the Catholic Church as the leader of the
Catholic prayer group which met in White Rock. Connie
and I started attending these prayer meetings, and found
them to be what we both had been seeking, without even
knowing it, for so long.
After an initial time for study, prayer, and trying to un-
derstand this new experience in Gods love, we were both
prayed for with the laying on of hands, and were informed
that we had just received the baptism of the Holy Spirit.
The praying for took place with my feeling nothing,
except a little tired, and perhaps a little depressed. All the
laying on of hands and praying for the baptism did at this
time was to allow the Holy Spirit to get out the broom and
start cleaning out a very dirty Temple. The Holy Spirit is
a perfect, gentle person, and will not force you to do any-
thing against your free will. Naturally, I was disappointed
as was my wife, in that nothing happened.
In December, 1970, just before Christmas, I was asked
to go to the architect-engineer in Detroit to reduce the cost
of a construction package for the LAMPF facility. This
was during the Carter presidency and runaway infation
and long gas lines were the hallmarks of the period. The
contractors couldnt get bids for work from some sub-con-
tractors because prices were increasing between the time
an order was placed and when the material was received. I
was usually sent to Detroit with some senior engineering
or Meson Physics personnel, but this time I was sent alone,
much to the displeasure of some of my senior colleagues,
with full authority to change the facility design to reduce
costs, as long as the facility could still be used without
compromising its capabilities.
While on travel something of a spiritual nature hap-
pened. During my prayer time at night, using my laundry
list of special requests, I heard a voice in my mind say-
ing, Now you will pray in tongues. And I did. As an en-
gineer I am very pragmatic, and my immediate impression
and looking back on this event was that something super-
natural happened. My observations were that I was speak-
ing in a logical sequence of words, such as is in a language,
pronouncing words that I could not ordinarily pronounce,
at a speed which was beyond the capability of this southern
boy from Louisiana, with the capability of starting or stop-
ping the fow of words as I desired. But I had no control
over which words were to be spoken. It was overwhelm-
ingly profound. I could not understand any words being
spoken, and was sort of abstractly on the side listening to
what my tongue and mouth were doing. I could think about
other things at the same time my mouth was going a mile-
a-minute. Finally, my mouth and tongue ceased to pray in
this heavenly language. I hesitated for a few seconds and
then thought or said Well, I guess Hes through. Some
time after all of this happened, I fell asleep.

The next morning I awoke wondering if all of this had
been a dream. I did not feel any different, nor look any
different. What to do next? I still had a little time before I
had to go to the A/Es offce which I spent in refection on
the events last night.
their bulldozers and front end loaders and proceeded to take
care of the problem. A little bit of knowledge gained about
something that wont work, with a lot of distinguished
members of management looking on. Fortunately, I had
been right many times, so I was allowed to goof once.
For the frst three years at the laboratory my dedication
to work and capability in solving diffcult problems was ap-
preciated and everything was going well, family wise and
work wise. David was just starting his teens, and was do-
ing well. Steve at about 10 years was doing well in school,
and Doug was still very young, and a joy to have around.
My physical examination takes place every three years, and
being hired in 1965, one was due in 1968. This resulted
in a complete change in focus in my life, although after an
initial shock, I was able to resume my professional work
with no reduction in capability.
59
After completing a long and diffcult day of making de-
cisions, I was exhausted. It was cold and windy in Detroit.
I went back to the motel trying to put this new phenomenon
into perspective. Tongues would not just start. I fnally
thought that I should leap out in faith, like Peter stepping
out of the boat to meet Jesus. So, I started making noises
with my mouth and tongue, nothing intelligent or that
made sense, just noises, or strange sounds- and something
clicked. In a moment this coherent fow of words and
phrases started fowing from my mouth, with no help from
my intellect, brain, or whatever you would like to call it.
I was once again speaking in tongues, not understanding
anything being said, but rejoicing in this moment of close
communion with my Creator.
I know that there are some who will claim that it was a
demon speaking through me, and I would not even try to
argue with them. That is their free
will being exercised, and I will not
argue with the free will of another
person. However, the love of God
and Jesus that I felt, and the changes
that this remarkable phenomenon has
made in my life, I cannot contribute
to anyone other than my Lord and my
God.
The baptism in the Holy Spirit,
as sometimes verifed by the gift of
tongues, is not an end. As Winston
Churchill said, after a victory in Af-
rica during World War 2, it is not the
end, nor is it the beginning of the end,
but it can be considered the end of the
beginning. It is a start available to all
who earnestly seek this gift.
No, I was not set free from the
committing of sin, unfortunately,
since the defnition of sin, given to
me by John Stanton, a Catholic Lay
Theologian, is that when you stop
loving, you start sinning. It is so sim-
ple. And many times over the years I
did sin greatly, in thought, word and
deed, Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea
Maxima Culpa. (Through my fault,
through my fault, through my most
grievous fault). I am not proud of
this, but this is part of life. The fip-
fop change from sinner to saint does
not happen often as it did with Saint
Paul. For most of us it is two steps
forward, one step back - a journey
with many adventures and mis-ad-
ventures along the way, with some
happiness, and sometimes even more
pain. But with an ever growing joy in
the love of God, all I can say at this
time is, that through this very diffcult
journey that I have undertaken with my Lord and my God,
I am at peace.
We did manage to trim enough cost out of the project
so that the bidding was successful when it was sent out for
bid again. The facility worked as required with the changes
that we made to reduce cost incorporated.
Recognition received
As the performance appraisal of December 7, 1972
indicates, my performance was acknowledged and my work
load was increased by many projects in order to keep me
occupied. One compliment, if earned, is worth more than a
supervisor looking for problems where there are so few.
60
Air bearings come to Engineering
At the Los Alamos Scientifc Laboratory- this was the
latter part of the 1960s and the name had not been changed
to the Los Alamos National Laboratory, we had a pre-de-
sign conference about the design of a small (22000 pounds)
shield door. We were talking about how to support it, on
wheels or rails. I remembered that back at Prestressed
Concrete we looked at a steel plate with holes drilled in it
through which air was passed under pressure. The purpose
of this experiment was to foat loads on this air bearing.
This was being developed at different locations around the
country. But our attempt at PC just sort of worked.
I asked
can we
foat it on
air? Rodger
remembered
that at one of
the sites air
bearings were
used to place
heavy shield
doors in place.
He contacted
Airfoat Corp.
and obtained
some of their literature. This was new technology at that
time with the bearings being limited in size and air pres-
sure.
This same type of bearing was
used in our house, in Tulsa, OK in
2004, to move a refrigerator during
the kitchen renovation. So now air
bearings are used, even around the
house.
The air bearings worked beauti-
fully, and we even had a write up in
a few publications. I referred to this
door as a little fellow, considering
the size of a much larger door which
was being planned for the Meson
Physics Facility
The 100 ton shield
door shown on the right
was the next piece of
equipment foated on air.
It could not be called a
little fellow but it is
small compared to what
was yet to come. It also
worked beautifully and
has worked beautifully
for over 25 years.
At that time the Scyllac
project was underway, and
a new building was being
planned to house a large
number of energy stor-
age capacitor racks. These
racks had to be positioned
as shown on the right, and
then moved to a full torus
confguration. Consider-
ing the success of the small shield door, the planning of a
larger (100 T) shield door at the Meson Physics Facility,
and a lot of enthusiasm, I made a presentation to manage-
ment at Scyllac that we use the air bearing concept to move
the racks from one confguration to another. Saying it was
too new a concept, wasnt really proven engineering at that
time, etc., management said that they would use a proven
concept to move the racks, like wheels. What that meant;
they didnt want to think about it yet. So I just tucked that
information in the back of my head, and went on with my
work.
A few months later, Jack Harbor, who was project
engineer for the Scyllac Facilities Project asked me what
fatness and smoothness specifcation should be used for the
foor of the new Scyllac facility. Remembering the problem
of moving the racks, and thinking ahead, I gave Jack the
specifcations which would allow the use of air bearings
on the foor. It was a good spec, and not much more costly
than a regular industrial foor, so what did we have to lose?
Time passed, and as one of my side projects was be-
ing a structural design engineer for the laboratory, I was
assigned the design of the racks. With one designer/drafts-
man to do the drawings and a few phone calls to Airfoat
Corp. for some design literature and information, the design
proceeded. The racks were 37 feet high, 7 feet wide and 30
feet long. The height to side aspect ratio was high, which
made them prone to overturn. The capacitors and the racks
weighed about 130,000 pounds and were top heavy. Taking
all of this into consideration, I designed the racks to accom-
modate Airfoat Corp. air bearings. The additional cost was
nil, as only dimensions were critical, and the structure had
to be reinforced at the bottom. Early in 1973 an engineer,
James J. Banta, from ENG-6, the prestige group which had
many PhDs in it, stopped by my offce and asked me what
was the coeffcient of friction of steel on concrete. I told
him that he didnt want to know. Then I asked, what do
you need to do? Well, the people at Scyllac needed to move
their racks from one confguration to another and assigned
Rodger with me on an
air bearing
6l
the job to ENG-6, and he had it. It was diffcult not to
snicker, but without even a smile I asked him, Why dont
you foat them on air? The reply was something like are
you kidding? Well, my name was on the rack drawing,
which is probably why he came to me in the frst place, so
we got a copy of the drawings to study. We looked it over,
and I gave Jim a short course in air bearing design since
we now had the little door and the big door foating on air.
We ordered the latest literature from Airfoat Corp.,
and found that one of their standard designs just ft in the
space below the rack, and there was plenty of load capacity
to carry the weight of the capacitors at very low pressure.
This was necessary to keep the air bearings from oscillat-
ing with the large height to width ratio. And the foor specs
were just right for air bearing use. Jim took the informa-
tion back to ENG-6, and did computer analysis of the rack
(only slide rule analysis before) which proved that the rack
was capable of transferring the load from the capacitors to
the air bearings with some additional stiffeners at the base.
There was even adequate room for these needed stiffeners.
Well, the design went beautifully, and the implementation
of the design during the actual move of the racks by the
contractor was amazing. After getting the racks elevated on
air, a crew of about fve men could push them to their new
location with mostly hand power. Come-a-longs were used
as necessary, and the racks were relocated, placed in their
new location, precisely, and then lowered into place. It was
a beautiful operation, saved an estimated $400,000 and
was accomplished in 17 working days.
Jim wrote a professional paper explaining the design
and operation, and had it published. I went to Scyllac and
observed the operation, and was very pleased. My name
was not mentioned in the professional paper. It just shows
you what can be accomplished when you are not concerned
about who gets the credit but it would have been nice.
Around 1970 I was assigned to be the project engineer
for the Mass Spectrometer in Beam Area C, a circular dome
building on the East side of Mesita de Los Alamos. This
involved a complex computer analysis of the Mass Spec-
trometer frame subjected to seismic loading and overview
of the design of the frame by an engineering group at
Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory (LLNL) near
Berkeley, California. The computer analysis used Nastran, a
computer analysis program which was developed by NASA
for analysis of space vehicles. It was run on the main frame
computers at the Los Alamos National Laboratory.
The mass spectrometer, shown above, had a pivot point
around which the spectrometer had to rotate, and a travel-
ing means of support at the other end, which had to support
about 500,000 lbs. This weight came from the frame, and
the magnets which bent the beam from the 800 MeV Meson
Physics Facility. As part of my assignment I was to spend a
week at the LLNL during the preliminary stages of design.
Not missing an opportunity to take the family on travel, we
loaded up our 1965 Plymouth Station Wagon and traveled
to California. We arrived there at a motel, and set up house
keeping, and I went to work on a Monday morning.
Then followed an introduction to the people, the facili-
ties, and the capabilities of the LLNL. The fnal product of
this function was the drawings necessary to build the frame
for the Mass Spectrometer. On the second day, or so, the
lead engineer came to me with a problem. For the traveling
means of support, he envisioned a set of railroad wheels
running on curved rails cast into the foor. The vertical sup-
port for the 500,000 pound load wasnt a problem, but
62
when the load was moving along the rails, the coeffcient of
friction of steel on steel was about 0.5 and a very large tan-
gential force was developed perpendicular to the rail. This
force would be a tensile force in the concrete. This force
would have to be transmitted as compression through the
bottom frame of the spectrometer and the balance of force
will require the concrete in the slab to be in tension. But
the concrete could not take the tension and large amounts
of reinforcing would have to be placed in this concrete. He
stated that he could not put enough steel in the concrete
to take this force, especially considering that you had to
consider tensile deformation as well. Also the pivot point
would have to transfer the resulting horizontal load from
the frame to the reinforcing in the slab.
Looking at the force that we had to support, I thought
back to the Little Fellow, and said why dont we foat it
on air? Then came the are you crazy looks, which were
followed by a simple explanation, followed by some quick
calculations. We fgured that we could place fve pads at
2000 sq. in. each under that end of the spectrometer. This
would give us 10,000 sq. in., requiring that air pads be de-
signed for 50 psi. Everything that we had done before was
designed for about 15 psi.
Jerry Stemple, sales manager for Airfoat Corp. in De-
catur, Illinois was contacted. Asked if he could design an
air bearing to support 50 psi, he stated he would sure like
to, and they had thought about it, but didnt have develop-
ment money. I asked how much? He stated that he would
need about $5000 to $10,000. Ill call back, I told him,
and made a phone call to the project leader for the Mass
Spectrometer, and to Supply and Property, who issued a
Purchase Order to Airfoat Corp. By the end of the week we
were designing the Mass Spectrometer supported by 50 psi
air bearings. By contract time all tests were complete and
we had a GO.
The Mass Spectrometer has functioned very well over
the last thirty years, and the spectrometer has performed
much physics. I believe that God allowed me to be present
when the air bearing events took place from Prestressed
Concrete Products in Mandeville, LA, to the Little Fel-
low event in Los Alamos, NM, to the design of the Mass
Spectrometer Frame at Lawrence Livermore Laboratory in
California, so that I could help bring all of the pieces of this
puzzle together.
Back to our vacation in San Francisco. Although I was
with the family each night, I planned to spend the weekend
in San Francisco with them before returning to Los Ala-
mos. However, we received a phone call on Friday that I
was needed in Detroit, Michigan on Monday morning. We
packed our bags on Friday, drove a reasonable distance that
night, and arrived in Los Alamos late Saturday night. We
caught a plane Sunday morning, and I made it to the meet-
ing on Monday morning.
An MP engineer also contributed to this food of uses
for air bearings. The Klystron tubes in the MP facility had
to be transported horizontally, and the height of the cranes
to transport them resulted in high ceilings for the entire
facility. He developed a means of moving them using air
bearings, allowing the ceiling to be reduced in many loca-
tions by 15 feet.
In the meantime, my spiritual life was becoming more
active. I was going to prayer meetings every week, going
to mass during the week, teaching catechism at the Catholic
church - and loving it. Connie had also received the gift of
tongues, and spiritually our lives were doing well. How-
ever, our boys were in or approaching the teen age problem
age, and many problems were yet to come.
Los Alamos Canyon Bridge
Corrosion takes its toll on reinforced concrete, and the
bridge across Los Alamos Canyon was no exception. The
concrete walkway on the west side of the bridge had cracks
and was considered unsafe. The Zia Company, the inhouse
construction contractor for the laboratory was selected to
do this job, and I was selected to be in charge of construc-
tion inspection and direction for the laboratory. This was
a complex situation with the Atomic Energy Commission
(AEC) being in charge of the overall contract and the Army
Corps of Engineers selected to be the reviewer of drawings
and approval for all construction changes in the feld. Ed
Sitzberger was the division leader for the laboratory at this
time, and I was to report directly to him on this project.
There was a weekly progress meeting with the AEC, the
engineering division leader and the Corps of Engineers at-
tending. Maybe there were others attending, but these were
the main players.
Each week, before the meeting, I would meet with Ed
and give him a ffteen minute briefng on P&P, progress and
problems, for the last week. It was a rapid fre meeting,
with a large amount of information being exchanged in a
short period of time. Ed would then take the information
to the AEC and the Corps, and speak for the Laboratory.
It was necessary to make decisions in the feld to keep the
project moving, as one lane of the bridge was blocked off
by construction equipment and traffc was slowed. Most of
the decisions were small, but important, and usually had to
do with feld corrections because of errors on the original
drawings or conficts with existing conditions.
The bridge was constructed in the 1940s and the con-
nections used were rivets. We had to place a support beam
perpendicular from the bridge about twelve feet out to sup-
port new precast concrete sidewalk sections. These beams,
W12X27 - 12 inches deep with a fange width of 6-1/2
inches, were connected to the bridge by removing the rivets
at their location and attaching them to the bridge using high
strength bolts. From the bridge deck to the ground below
was about 160 feet and the AEC engineers always managed
to keep at least six feet from the edge of the bridge.
63
One day I needed to see how the attach-
ments were being fastened, so I walked out on
the twelve inch wide fange beam about ten feet,
turned around and checked the connections.
Strange, some persons were concerned, but I was
used to heights (from the Air Force?), and as long
as no one was shooting at me, I was at ease.
Often I would receive a call from the feld, and
have to make an instant decision. This usually
wasnt serious enough to send to the Corps so I
would just put it in my feld log, and let Ed know
what mischief I was up to. One day, or perhaps
on many days, Don Gallegos of the AEC would
tell Ed Dean is making decisions in the feld
again and not letting the Corps see them before
the construction is done. Ed would tell them
Ill talk to Dean about that! Ed would, and it
was usually to say - Good job, keep it up! The
project was completed on schedule and within
budget and I received the letter to the right from
the Zia Company.
The Russians are coming!!!
As a result of the Nuclear Arms Agreements the Unit-
ed States and the Soviet Union (Russia, after the change)
were having to store the nuclear materials removed from
nuclear devices in safe storage. The Russians were
planning to construct a nuclear storage facility for both
plutonium and uranium in Tomsk, Russia, which is NE
of Kazakhstan and NW of Mongolia. The design criteria
was for an F111 with a full conventional bomb load div-
ing at Mach 2 into the site. The facility was underground
with blast protection concrete over the actual facility.
Much of the design was being accomplished by the US
Corps of Engineers.
The Russians were planning to design the facility for
a Richter 5 earthquake, and there was a seismic fault
which ran through Tomsk. As you can see from the
memo to the right we had a large team to assist the Rus-
sians with their design. I was assigned to be the consul-
tant for the United States to Russia for seismic design of
the nuclear facility.
To have a friendly joke at the start of my talk, I
said, through the interpreter, I wanted to start the talk
with the only Russian that I know - which
means it is snowing, but the weather wouldnt cooper-
ate. Not a smile in the house. So I went into a discus-
sion of paleoseismology (see page 78) with a description
of a trench type investigation and how it can be con-
ducted to provide information about the recurrence in-
tervals of seismic events and their magnitude. All were
listening intently. I suggested that for a nuclear facility
the seismic event for design should be at a minimum a
Richter 7 to 7.5.
64
I then went into a discussion of seismic design, and that
with the dynamic load of the F111 at Mach 2, the only item
which would have to receive careful consideration would
be the joints. That is where the devil is in the details.
The additional cost would be less that one percent of the
total construction cost. There was much discussion with
me, and then among themselves. After the discussion was
over, the person who was in charge of environmental safety
for Tomsk came over to me, grabbed my two hands in his
two hands, and pumped them up and down saying thank
you, thank you, thank you.
The next day it was snowing, and as I was walking into
the building for the remainder of the session, the Russians,
as they saw me, came over to me, slapped me on the back,
rather hard, and said . They did remember, and
I like to think that the slaps on the back were just friendly
Russian slaps, and they werent trying to knock me down.
As the internal Los Alamos Laboratory memo stated, it
was a good meeting for all of us. And a feeling of mutual
respect prevailed. The appreciation by our Russian coun-
terparts was appreciated by us all.
In the 1970s when the relations between our two nations
was not as good, I had a warm spot in my heart for the Rus-
sian people. If it werent for the Russian people and their
valiant fght against Nazi Germany we would have prob-
ably lost Great Britain and had to fght many years at great
sacrifce to be victorious over Germany and Japan together,
if we could win without suing for an uneasy cease fre. In
the charismatic prayer group which we attended in White
Rock, NM, I used to ask for prayers for Holy Mother
Russia. This was often followed by statements like no!
Lets pray for the people they are persecuting, not for them.
The Russian people have suffered over centuries, under
many kinds of rulers, and underground have kept their faith
in God. If we want to follow the teachings of Jesus our
love and prayers for our worst enemies are the hallmark of
our Christian faith. Wasnt it said You have heard that it
was said, Love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I
tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who perse-
cute you . If you love those who love you, what credit is
that to you? Even sinners love those who love them.
God works in mysterious ways
While having the oil changed on our Lincoln TownCar
I went over to McDonalds for some coffee. While there
I met two young ladies who were Mormon Missionar-
ies. One of the young ladies, Sister Donahue, was from
Mandeville, Louisiana, a town in which I worked for about
three years. A few days later these two were working our
street in White Rock, and rang the door. So we got to talk
a bit more, and I gave them a tape of Christian songs that I
had made from 30 years of 33 rpm records. I selected my
favorite songs from each record. So we said goodbye again.
On May 27, 1998, Connie and I went to New Orleans to
help my brother and her mother, spend time with her fam-
ily, and attend the 50th year anniversary of my high school
class. While talking to Camille Richardson Bubert, one of
my class mates and her daughter, Connie mentioned that
we were from Los Alamos. Camilles daughter stated that
her daughter was on mission work in Los Alamos. Connie
then told them that her daughter was in our living room last
week. When I got back to Los Alamos I made up a package
consisting of a picture of our graduating class of 50 years
ago, a blow up of Camille from that picture, a picture of the
graduating class taken at the reunion (with persons in about
the same location that they were in, in the original picture)
and a picture of me with Mrs Donahue (her mother - cant
remember her frst name) me, and Camille, her grandmoth-
er.
Unfortunately Sister Donahue was reassigned to Albu-
querque, but the other young lady, Sister Haroldsen from
Oregon, was going to see her that weekend. So the package
went to Sister Donahue who now knows that the person
who gave her poetry and music in Los Alamos graduated
from high school with her grandmother. The only message
that I can see in this unusual situation was that Sister Do-
nahue was homesick, and God wanted her to know that she
was never alone, no matter where she was.
My next trip to New Orleans, by myself, started about
July 6 and extend through August. Nothing like New
Orleans in the middle of July. My brother, Chuck, had two
back operations for a service connected injury and my func-
tion was to take care of his business while he was in the
hospital, take care of my sister-in-law, work with a realtor
who is going to sell some of his property, take my sister-in-
law to visit him in the hospital, clean up his room, fnish his
income tax for last year, etc., etc., etc.. He was 75 years old
then. Its a good thing that I was the younger brother.
Home Offce
65
I asked God to guide me, but received no word. I was
standing at a bus stop where the next bus was going to
Canada. So, I told my Father that if he wanted me to go to
the meeting in Detroit, He would have to cause me to miss
that bus. The bus came up to where I was standing, on the
curb, the door opened, the driver looked at me, and I looked
at him, and I could not move. The driver looked at me
again, closed the door and off went that bus to Canada.
The next bus was the one which would take me to
the meeting in Detroit. This time the bus door opened, I
stepped in, and was transported to the prayer meeting. I
had given testimony before at the meeting about the mi-
raculous things that were happening in Los Alamos. They
were thirsting to hear about how God was working in the
Church. These answers to prayer were not very big things,
but too many and unusual to be by chance. So I felt led to
give a testimony again. I believe I started the testimony
about one person, two busses, and three birthdays. This
was after April 7, 1970, when my mother was born into
eternal life. I started by stating that I was the person, and
then told what happened at the bus stop. I told the story of
my brother being born on April 7th, my little boy Doug be-
ing born on April 7th and my Mother being born to eternal
life on April 7th, and we were going to celebrate all three
birthdays, so Praise the Lord. Three generations within the
same family with the same birthday. It was well received
by the fve hundred or so persons at the prayer meeting.
Another communication took place in Detroit, I do not
remember which year. I was walking down one of the
larger streets when I saw a group of Hari Krishna followers
accepting alms and making music with their tambourines.
I talked with one of these persons, who was very happy and
had a great smile. I gave him a small donation and a copy
of the gospel according to John, and he gave me some of
his literature. Continuing my walk down the street, I spoke
to my God, God, he seems so happy, but he does not know
Jesus. I dont understand. Before another two steps were
taken, an answer came to me, in my mind, Do not be con-
cerned, my son, he walks a different path than you, but that
path too leads to me. At that time I was very fundamental
in my beliefs, and I did not share this with others, because I
knew there would be strong disagreement.
Working With Youth
In the early 1970s I was teaching Catechism at the Im-
maculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church. Some of the stu-
dents were being tempted to look into the supernatural by
fellow students at school, but on the dark side. I told them
that there was Gods side also, and this made the dark side
appear like a scrawny worm. That started a young persons
Charismatic prayer group, with the approval of the priest.
There was already an adult group, of which I was a mem-
ber, and I caught hell for not bringing the youngsters over
to our adult group so that they could be bored. These high
school students were so full of the spirit and love for each
other that they made the rest of us appear to be comatose.
Starting Communications
The frst time that I can remember having the impres-
sion that my Father wanted to communicate with me was in
the early 1970s when I asked Him a question. I had been
in the Charismatic renewal for a short period of time, and
being an engineer was already trying to fgure God out.
After all, E=MC
2
and all matter, the M in the equation, is
derived from energy, the E in the equation. So I spoke to
my Creator, I dont remember if it were out loud or just as
a thought, and told Him, I believe I have you fgured out,
You are an intelligent form of energy. Isnt that correct?
Then I waited for an answer. After a few seconds I thought,
Well I guess I must be correct. Just a few seconds later,
however, clear, frm, but gentle words started forming in
my mind. There was no audible voice speaking to me, just
a thought in my mind. It was You could not be further
from the truth. Do not try to understand Me, I am com-
pletely beyond your comprehension. Just love Me, that is
enough. End of statement. I placed this statement in my
heart and that started my consideration that God does not
want to be understood, but to be loved. And, over the years
with the help of others much wiser than I will ever be in
this life, I have yearned to, tried to, endeavored to, cried to
and pleaded to love Him.
First, I tried to love the unseen, far away God who lives
way up there, and as I matured and learned that, as a start-
ing point, I had to love the unseen, nearby God who lives,
sometimes deeply hidden, within that mess which is the
least of my brethren. Especially those for whom I had no
use, and were distasteful to me. Oh God, you gave me a
mountain!
First Communication Confrmation

During a prayer meeting in Los Alamos, New Mexico,
after a little more maturity, I had thoughts come to me
during a lull in the singing and praise. So, slowly and
deliberately I spoke these thoughts out loud. Then, I was a
bit scared. Was I presuming that God would want to speak
through me, myself being one of the least of the brethren.
Surely this was the human part of the equation, not the
heavenly. After the meeting, one of the other members
of the prayer group came over to me and said Dean, I just
wanted you to know that before each sentence you spoke,
the same words came to me. I believe this was the frst
time that I had confrmation of God speaking through me,
although I am sure that there could be many more logical
explanations. On faith, I accepted that He will even speak
through me, since He did speak through Balins jackass.
Please God, Tell Me What To Do
In Detroit, while on travel, I had a choice. Go to a prayer
meeting in Canada, or one that I had attended before in
Detroit. Both were Catholic charismatic prayer meetings.
Spiritual Adventures while Living in Los Alamos
66
A Memorable Experience
A very beautiful young lady who was in my catechism
class, named Ann, was in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel
along with Ken, a few others and me. After all but Ken and
I had left, Ann asked me to pray for her for the baptism in
the Holy Spirit. I told her that I did not have to pray for
her, that she already had the Holy Spirit and just had to ask
for the release of the gifts. I thought that I should not, since
I was just a lay person, and this was supposed to be the
function of a bishop. She asked me again, please pray for
me. So I agreed, and placed my hand on her head. Imme-
diately she felt the full impact of Gods love throughout her
body and started speaking beautifully in tongues. I dont
know if this was for her edifcation or for the edifcation
of Ken and me. Afterwards she, Ken and I went into the
main church where she looked up at Jesus on the Cross at
the front of the church with so much love that it lit up the
church. What a overwhelming experience it was for me.
Giving A Little
Now back to communications, and a little bit on giving.
Carol had taken in another child for a while, and they were
not wealthy persons. A voice, I believe it was the voice,
told me to give Carol ffty dollars. I said what? The same
message. Well, being of little faith I decided to have a
scrip-dip, where you go to the Bible, open it at random, and
read where you place your fnger with your eyes closed.
The reading I had fnger selected was Sit down and write
ffty. So I brought a check to Carol, and she accepted it
gladly saying that this was really needed. Paul says test the
spirit, and confrm everything that you can. This is espe-
cially true now that some religious organizations look upon
others as fat cows rather than brothers and sisters.

Along the same line, I was at home, I believe in the
1980s, when a thought came to me You are going to write
a check for Kate. The only Kate that I could think of
was Kate Salazar, who was the secretary of an engineering
group. We attended her wedding as honored guests and
experienced our frst Spanish language service. Later her
brother worked for me in my engineering section. Kate
was a devout Christian who had left the Catholic Church
to join the El Bien Pastor Church, a Pentecostal Church
in Espanola. I saw Kate later that day, and asked her how
her church was doing. She said, great, and we are going to
build a church building and we will have it paid for before
we enter it. This was to be a reasonable sized metal build-
ing, not an ornate monument. I sat down and wrote a check
for ffty dollars. Each month for twelve months, I wrote a
check for ffty dollars, and after the twelfth check I heard
the words in my mind, that is enough. I gave the check
to Kate and asked her about the progress of the building
fund. She told me that the church was now paid for in full.
Sometimes It Really Hurts, And I Fall Short
When I was at Randolph Air Force Base for Combat
Crew Training, I purchased a 1942 German Luger from an
offcer at the base. It was very accurate. After hearing that
having a pistol other than government issue would prompt
the enemy to just shoot you on the spot if you were cap-
tured, I left the Luger home while I was in combat. Over
the years that Luger became my most prized possession.
It sometimes directed me on making decisions. I carried
it in the car for years. After carrying a pistol in combat, I
became a little paranoid, and felt unsafe without it. It was
becoming a god.
One morning, in the early 1970s a
voice in my mind stated I want you to
sell your Luger. No. This is stupid.
I had better get some confrmation. I
wont do it!!!! Later, I was going
into the Department of Energy Head-
quarters Building when I passed Jerry
Koelling, a friend who had two PHDs,
two Masters Degrees, and a Bachelors
degree. His advisors in high school told him to study auto
mechanics, he could never get through college. Out of the
blue, Jerry asked me When are you going to sell me your
Luger? Jerry and I probably met at the fring range a few
times, but it did not register on me that he even knew I had
a Luger. I was stunned. I said that I would have to think
about it. I did not need the money, why should I sell my
most prized possession? I went home and asked Connie
What is it that God wants me to sell? She said, You
dont want to know. I told her that I did, and she an-
swered Your Luger. One, two three strikes youre out at
the old ball game.

I packed up the Luger, the holster, extra clips, ammo,
and called Jerry. I told him what happened, and he under-
stood. After all, he was an educated man and a Christian. I
told him to determine how much it was worth and write me
a check. He did, I believe for about $350. I paid $40 for it
in 1951. The money and Luger exchanged hands.
I thought that was over, but that voice in my mind
wasnt through yet. I want you to give that money to Jim
was the next statement. Now Jim was a very powerful
Christian, light years advanced from where I was, and I was
jealous of him. When he walked into a room, there was the
presence of Christ which came with him. I might as well
get it out. I said no! I thought I had better get confrma-
tion, so I asked my wife if I should give the money to Jim.
She became more earthly inspired than heavenly at that
time, and agreed with me- no! Well I thought that was the
end of that.
In August 1976 my youngest son Doug died in an au-
tomobile accident. Jim and Lorna, his wife, came over to
my house. Connie had left me and was living in an apart-
ment; my oldest son was in college in Albuquerque and
my middle son had joined the Army. I was alone with my
dog, Chaunte. Jim and Lorna came to pray for me since I
was in the deepest depression that I had ever known. I told
them what had happened years ago, and they recalled the
time, and said that yes, the money was really needed, but
67
someone else gave it to them. We are given opportunities
to serve God, and when we refuse, He calls on another. I
asked Jim for his forgiveness, which he freely gave to me.
Then I took out a large pan, and told him that I wanted to
wash his feet. He knew what I needed, and allowed me
to do so. His feet were scared and covered with a rash or
something, and Lorna told me that he always had problems
with them. He also walked with a limp due to a leg injury.
Here, a powerful man of God, was by the standards of
the world, a cripple. After they left, I really felt nothing,
except that I had done what I had to do.
Working Outside Of The Catholic Church
Through this group that was meeting at our church I met
Carol Waldschmidt and her husband, Leo, who were more
advanced in the Spirit than I was. I was still not house-
broken. Carol and Leo had many children of their own, and
had prayer meetings at their house, some of which were
outside the jurisdiction of the Catholic Church.
Changes within the Catholic Church were happening
fast and furious, and a new priest who replaced Father
Borgman was strange compared to other priests I knew. He
was a good individual, and I worked with him, even taking
a camper on the back of my truck load of young persons
to Albuquerque to see Jesus Christ, Superstar. But some-
thing was missing. He did not believe in miracles, and
while in Detroit I purchased a book entitled The Gospel
without Myths for him. It discounted all miracles in the
Bible as being false, and just examples of people sharing
with each other. With all the confusion I no longer felt
at home in the church, and on December 17, 1972, I was
confrmed in the Episcopal Church in Los Alamos. It was a
good move at that time.
Healing
Healing was a major part of the ministry of Jesus during
His three years of ministry. These acts of love ranged from
minor events to the more spectacular event when Lazarus
was brought back to life after being entombed for numer-
ous days, and started to smell. These acts of healing
are documented in multiple cases in different gospels, and
in the Acts of the Apostles. Acts of healing have taken
place over the years at Fatima, Oral Roberts ministries,
Benny Hinn crusades, and around the world. I have not
witnessed any great acts of healing, but have heard of them
from multiple-reliable sources. These acts of healing are
not accomplished in any set way, but vary as greatly as the
persons who receive them. All I am going to do is relate,
to the best of my memory, some unusual events that I have
experienced.
Arthritis can be very painful: Early 1970s
At the time of this event, the early 1970s, we had both
been prayed for and received the baptism in the Holy Spirit
at a Catholic prayer group in Los Alamos, New Mexico.
Many unusual events had taken place in our lives since
our baptism in the Holy Spirit, and even prior to this
baptism. This is the recounting of an event that started
one night while Connie was trying to fght off pain from
arthritis. This was a very painful experience for her. She
was taking up to eight Ascriptin (buffered aspirin) every
day with little relief, and had an appointment scheduled for
the next day with Dr. Greer, our family physician.
The pain was so bad that I decided that prayer was the
only possible help. So I placed my hand on her head and
started praying in tongues. I learned the next morning that
she was thinking at the moment that I did that, How can I
tell him that the pain is still there, it will destroy his faith?
A quiet voice came to me in my mind, nothing audible, just
a thought, but more than a thought. Will you accept this
pain for her? I hesitated for a moment, and then said Yes,
I will. Then another thought came, You wont have to, I
just wanted to know if you would. That was the last thing
that I remembered that night. I fell asleep.
The next morning when we both awoke, I asked Con-
nie if the pain was still there. She stated that it was gone,
and asked me if I had prayed for her. I had been accused of
many things before, but this was a frst. She then remem-
bered and told me of her thought about hurting my faith the
night before. And immediately after that she went to sleep.
She took no Ascriptin that day and went to see Dr. Greer.
Dr. Greer was a devout Christian who forfeited an impor-
tant tennis match because he would not play on Sunday.
They talked for over an hour, about his understanding and
agreement with the power of prayer. After that the real
miracle took place. His bill for that visit was about $20.
To the best of my memory Connie did not have to take
Ascription again for arthritis, although this does not imply
that she was always free from pain. She suffered greatly
from allergies later in life, due to the harsh allergy condi-
tions which prevailed in Los Alamos. She often required
Imitrex injections to stop the pain. Each healing is unique,
and separate from any other. Each pain or sickness can be
caused by physical, mental or spiritual reasons unique and
separate from other affictions.

New Orleans, late 1970s

Connie was in New Orleans, helping with her fathers
(Jake) care during an operation for lung cancer. The doc-
tors opened him up, checked carefully, and then closed
him up again with little or no possibility for a cure. When
I arrived at the house, Jake was in his bed in the bedroom.
I went into the bedroom, greeted him, and placed my hand
on his shoulder, and prayed. He was happy to see me.
He was suffering pain throughout his body. I was there
for quite a while praying. He appeared to appreciate my
concern and prayers. Afterwards, I left to go to be with the
other family members, leaving Jake to join us.
68
Jake came out of the bedroom and joined us. He said,
I dont understand it, the pain is the same all over my
body, except for the arm where Dean had his hand praying
for me. Perhaps, it was just a touch from God saying, It
is time for you to come home, but here is a small sign from
Me, just to let you know that I am with you. Healing can
be from pain, from fear, or just the knowledge that your
Creator is with you and loves you.
Don Mc has a problem, early 1970s
Don was always a cheerful person, he ran for offce with
a singing endorsement, which he composed and sang on
the radio, and was well liked by all. When I started hav-
ing dreams and pictured him dying, it was very troubling.
I spoke to no one about this for a few days, then asked
Connie Who in our congregation (Episcopal) is in dan-
ger? Without hesitation, she said Don Mc. How do
you know? I asked. She replied that she just felt it. So
we started praying for Don, and called the members of the
prayer group to pray for a member of our congregation
who is in danger, not stating who it was. I also called our
priest, Father Rohane, and told him that we were praying
for a member of our congregation. He asked who it was,
and I told him that I had not told anyone else, but I felt
that I should tell him. He acknowledged the name, said he
would say nothing to anyone except to have them pray for a
member of our congregation who was in danger.
About a week later, Don suddenly went blind, and was
rushed to the hospital. It was determined that his blood
pressure had gone so high that blood vessels in his eyes
had been damaged. He received the necessary medication
to reduce his blood pressure, but there was still concern
for his life. Time passed, his eye sight returned, and he
was declared out of danger. Father Rohane visited him at
the hospital many times, and fnally on one occasion told
him Don, do you know that members of the congregation
have been praying for you for over a week before this hap-
pened? It was mentioned that I had spoken to Father Ro-
hane about my concerns. After this event the bond between
Don and me, which was already very good, increased.
At a prayer meeting which Don attended some time after
the hospital visit, he mentioned that the tension was so high
that it was starting to be painful. We prayed, and it was
suggested that we share this tension for him. Many of us
agreed. That next week I had the worst tension headaches
in the back of my neck that I had ever had, as did many
other members of the prayer group. Don, when asked how
he did that week, said he felt great.
Early 1970 a phone call from Dad

I was at work in the administration building at the Los
Alamos National Laboratory when I received word from
my dad that mom was failing fast, and that I should come
to New Orleans. Walking across the grounds at the back of
the building, I started talking to God. By this time I had
witnessed supernatural events and asked God to please heal
my mother. She had emphysema and a tracheotomy so
that a suction tube could be run down her lungs to suction
fuids. Before I left the interior parking area, a quiet voice
spoke to my heart, Do you want her to go through all of
this all over again?
I few to New Orleans where I was met at the airport and
was brought to our house on Harding Street. When I went
into the house, mother was lying in a hospital bed in the
dining room with the suction equipment and other medical
necessities nearby. Dad was taking care of her along with
a lady who spent the days with her. She was happy to see
me, and I, her. While lying there she would raise her right
hand up, and seem to point to the sky. I asked her if she
needed anything. She placed her fnger over the tracheoto-
my so she could speak, and said Thats where I am going.
We spent a lot of time together with dad, and I sang some
of the songs that I had learned at prayer meetings.
I had heard that there was a Charismatic Prayer group
at Loyola University on St. Charles Ave. Through a few
phone calls I found out the days and times of the prayer
meetings. With the blessing of mom and dad, I went to a
prayer meeting at Loyola University. It was not held in the
church, but in a meeting room. There was a nice group of
persons there, both Catholic and non-Catholic. The priest
who was leading the prayer meeting was Fr. Cohen. At one
meeting, a classical Pentecostal man stood up and spoke for
a very long time, using prayer terms and expressions not
usually used by Catholics, and he went on and on. When
he fnished, Fr. Cohen thanked him for his contribution to
the meeting. I met some Catholic Charismatic members
of the group who said they would be happy to come to our
house to pray for my mother, just set a date and time. We
did, and about six to eight came to the house and prayed for
mom. Mom and dad were both very touched.
I learned that Lloyd Salathe who lived on the lake
side of our house was also very sick. In New Orleans you
have New Orleans East and West, but north is the lake side
and south is usually the river side. We asked if we could
come over to pray for him, also. Myrna, his wife, said that
would be welcomed. So after spending some time with
mom, we all went over to their house and the group prayed
for Lloyd. He was so touched that he was crying before the
prayers were over. After a few days, moms condition did
not change very much, and I had much to do at work, so I
left New Orleans to go back to Los Alamos.
Now for the rest of the story. Mom went home to God
on April 7, 1970, which is my brothers birthday, and my
youngest sons birthday as well. Three birthdays in the
family, in three generations, two to life in this world and
one to eternal life in Gods Dimension. My Dad picked me
up at the airport, and took me to the house. When we were
in the house, he took me to the kitchen and opened a cabi-
net door. He pointed to bottles of prescription medicine
69
that were lined up on a shelf. He said those were your
mothers pain medications. After your friends prayed for
her she never wanted or needed any. The pain was gone.
Peace is fowing like a river from the Body of Christ.
I asked about Mr. Salathe, and was told that he had to
lose a leg due to the illness that he had. I was crushed,
as this was the frst time a prayer had not been answered
by a message from God or a cure since I had received the
baptism in the Holy Spirit. Then I learned that there was a
cure involved. Mr. Salathe was Catholic, but had not gone
to mass or communion in many years. After being prayed
for, the priest at St. Agnes Church was contacted, and Mr.
Salathe was joyfully brought back into the Catholic Church,
and he and his wife received much comfort. When he did
go home to Gods Dimension, he was at peace with God,
and with himself.
God Works In Mysterious Ways
Sometimes, when I feel the presence of God, I hear a
buzzing, such as being near a power transformer. I have
tried to describe this to others, including Charismatic Chris-
tian friends, and have been made fun of and laughed at, in
Tulsa, not Los Alamos. One night, in late 1976 after we
lost Doug in an automobile accident, my dog, Chaunte and
I were alone in the house. I started hearing this buzzing.
I asked, Is that you, Jesus? No answer. Chaunte was
at my feet, while I was sitting in my big brown lounging
chair. He had his head between his paws, and did occa-
sionally make a noise, such as a snort or snore. I thought
that I needed some assurance, and the buzzing kept getting
louder. Place a feece before the Lord, I thought. Jesus, if
that is you, I want- Chaunte to jump up on all four legs
and bark before I count to sixty. I started counting. At
about the count of thirty, Chaunte jumped up on all fours,
barked loudly, then shook his head as if he were thinking,
Why did I do that? Then he re-assumed his original posi-
tion. And the buzzing sound slowly faded away, but I knew
that I was not alone.
Give the very best -
Three hippy type young men were at the corner with
a truck full of pinon frewood. Since we did burn wood,
we agreed to buy the load. They came to the house and
unloaded the wood, and before they left we offered to give
them something to eat. I noticed that one of the men had
very ragged pants on, and he was my size. I went to the
closet and looked at my two pair of corduroy pants, which
I loved, and picked out the best pair to give to him. He
accepted, and the pants left with them in the truck. The
next morning I was looking in the closet and saw my two
pairs of corduroy pants. I asked Connie how many pairs
did I have, and she said two. She came over and looked,
and we were both confused, as we saw a pair leave in their
truck. Did angels return my pair of pants since I did give
the better pair? I think so. Were these three hippies angels?
Maybe!
Mrs. B- The Holy Spirit brings Gods love
It has been said that the dash between the date of birth
and date of death shown on our tomb stone represents our
life. Our life is what occurred between those two dates.
My family moved to 214 Harding Street in 1938, when
I was six years old. Mrs. Edith Broadhurst was our next
door neighbor, and therefore a part of my life from that
early age. Her frst husband, Mr. Broadhurst died, and I
cant remember him. I remember Mrs. B as the lovely lady
who lived next door, who was not married. In 1942 Chuck
went to war. Mrs. B shared our life, our worries, and was
always welcome in our home, as we were in hers. After the
war, Chuck returned and in 1951, I went to war. Mrs. B was
there with her dog, Rags. In 1952, I returned from combat.
In 1953 I started college at Tulane University, was married
in 1955 and had a son in 1956, the same year I graduated. I
started work that year. Mrs. B became Mrs. C. when Mr.
Chachere, who was associated with an engineering frm
that I worked for, became her husband. Unfortunately, he
also passed away, and Mrs. B was again a widow. In 1965,
when I applied for work and a security clearance at the Los
Alamos Scientifc Laboratory, Mrs. B was one of my refer-
ences. She told the FBI that no one could say anything bad
about me, she knew me all of my life. Time passed, and in
1970 Mom died: in 1972 Dad died, and the house that we
had lived in for 44 years was sold. I then saw Mrs. B only
when we happened to be in the neighborhood.
Some time around 1972, after my family was involved
in the Charismatic Renewal in Los Alamos, I learned from
some friends in the neighborhood that Mrs. B had termi-
nal cancer and was bed ridden. Her sister came down to
live with her and be her caregiver. We went to visit, and
she happily welcomed us. We sat and talked and sang the
Christian songs that were so popular then, and prayed for
her. We came back to New Orleans often with always a
visit with my old friend. She confded in us that she was
scared, and that death was, for her, a dark event. A per-
son, a friend of a friend, who also was in the Charismatic
Renewal in New Orleans, lived just down the street, but I
cant remember his name. We talked to him, and he agreed
to look in on Mrs. B often and pray with her. We intro-
duced him to Mrs. B and her sister, and he faithfully visited
and prayed. Time passed, we visited whenever in town.
About 1974 or 75 we visited again and were brought
into Mrs. Bs room. There, lying in the bed, instead of a
scared person fearing death, was a radiant, joyful person in
a room that seemed to glow. She explained that she asked
our mutual friend to pray for her for the Baptism of the
Holy Spirit, and here she was, a good Baptist. He did, and
she received. Did she receive the gift of tongues? I dont
know, but she surely received all of the fruits of the spirit.
She became a prayer warrior in concert with us and our mu-
tual friend, praying for others who needed to know the love
of God. And fear no longer lived in that home. Mrs. B
said that she felt so helpless, not being able to do anything.
I responded that from that bed she had the power of the
70
Army of God, and from what I understood about prayers
for persons for whom she prayed being answered, she was
a most important member of the Christian community. In
September, 1975 she departed this world to meet face to
face, Love Personifed. Her sister sent us a note thanking
us and our friend for coming over the years to be at her
side. And yet, we did so little.
My Brothers heart attack
At the time of Chucks heart attack, in mid 1970, I was
living in Los Alamos and Chuck was living in Pearl River,
LA. What I am going to relate is what I heard from my sis-
ter-in-law, Pat, and Chuck during and after this heart attack.
I have no written records and am going by memory, but the
story is true, and my memory of what happened is good. I
can especially remember his tears of joy as he related his
experience to us at a home prayer meeting in 1976.
This episode started with a telephone call from Pat
telling me that Chuck had a heart attack during dinner in
Gulfport, Mississippi, and that he was awaiting transporta-
tion to Oschner Foundation Hospital in Jefferson Parish,
Louisiana. She asked for prayers for Chuck. We contacted
the members of our prayer group in Los Alamos and Ben
and Emmaline Dirks who were at a Charismatic Renewal
meeting at the Grand Canyon. There were about 10,000
persons in attendance. That evening we had about ten thou-
sand spirit flled Christians praying for Chuck.
In the meantime Chuck had been transported to Osch-
ner Foundation Hospital. The next morning a doctor came
into his room and starting looking at the EKG recording
and seemed to be surprised. He went over to Chuck and
asked How do you feel? Chuck sat up in bed and said
I dont know what you did, Doc, but I feel great! The
doctor stated that he had done nothing, but it appears that
something went through Chucks heart about midnight and
healed the damage.
Pat called that day, the day after the heart attack, and
told me the good news. She gave me the phone number at
the hospital, and I called Chuck and talked to him. He told
me what transpired with the doctor and that another doctor
told him that he was glad that it was not his shift, because
then he would have to explain what happened. As I under-
stand the situation, on the EKG record there was damage
before midnight, but none after. Chuck stated that he had
an out-of-body experience in Gulfport at the restaurant.
Chuck tried to tell about this experience to other per-
sons, including preachers, but most just thought he was hal-
lucinating. Chuck had a problem talking about this, since
he would become all choked up when he did. Chuck and
Pat came to our house in Los Alamos in 1976 and attended
a prayer meeting at our house. This was after we lost
Doug. He told about his experience to our group, which
considered this a normal, run-of-the-mill but beautiful,
miracle. Chuck did get all choked up, as did many there in
hearing this story of Gods love.
A Friend Drops by: Late 1970s or early 1980s
Barb and Ray were very good friends of ours and lived
just a few minutes away from us. In the late 1970s or early
1980s my wife and I both had strong feelings that Barb
should come over to our house. Ray was out of town on
business, but due back later that night. We called her, and
she really didnt believe that she should come over. She
had to talk to her sister in Colorado on the phone, and she
was expecting Ray back soon. To our surprise, just a half
hour or so later, Barb rang our doorbell. We talked for a lit-
tle while about an unpleasant phone call with Barbs sister,
then we went to our bedroom and sat on or around the bed
to pray for Barb. We had known this couple for a few years
at this time, and they were involved in our lives, and we in
theirs, and we were very involved in our prayer group, all
of us being in the Episcopal Church at that time.
I will frst tell you what happened as I remember it, and
then tell you the rest of the story. What came frst? I am
not sure. I believe that Barb stated that she had great pain
from bursitis or a similar ailment, and could not raise her
arms over her head. I had recently had a small vial of oil
blessed by the Episcopal bishop of New Mexico, with the
permission of our local priest, and had it in the room. It
was just sort of natural to take the oil, place some of it on
my fngers, and make the sign of the cross on her left shoul-
der. That was uneventful, or so it appeared to me. Then,
since her sister was so vicious on the telephone with Barb,
I commanded in the name of Jesus that any demonic forces
infuencing her immediately leave. Then I did something
really foolish. I looked Barb in the eyes and asked What
is your name? In a voice, not her own, but much deeper,
she replied Dolorosa. My Latin not being very good I
though that this was the word Delorosa, which means fow-
ers, instead of Dolorosa which means sorrows. Whatever,
I then commanded Dolorosa, in the name of Jesus to leave
this body; this body is not your home, and to go straight
to Jesus to be told where to go. I did not see, feel or know
anything different.
About that time Ray called from home to tell Barb that
her sister just called and wanted to apologize about her be-
havior. She did not know what got into her. And she was
so sorry. Ray was home, and time for Barb to leave after
what we considered an uneventful visit.
Now the rest of the story. When the sign of the cross
with the blessed oil was made on her shoulder, Barb felt the
tingling go through her body and the pain disappeared.
It wasnt until a day or two later that we learned that she
could raise both arms above her head without pain. At the
command for Dolorosa to leave, Barb stated that a great
heaviness and depression was lifted from her body and she
was flled with joy. She told us a few days later that she
drove home, singing at the top of her voice, a new person.
We knew nothing of what was happening.
Time passed, some bitterness returned to Barb, and pain
and depression returned. The gifts of the spirit need to be
reinforced constantly, or back into the pit we go.
7l
My Three Sons
This part of my story starts with my birth, youth, poetry,
shyness, work (paper routes), grade school, puberty, The
Teen Age years, dating (painful), Air Force (meaningful),
Combat (life changing), college, marriage - but then came
the fulfllment of all of the work up to that time - my frst
son, to be one of three - my three sons. Up to that time ev-
erything was almost meaningless - this was the culmination
of every thing before. This was the meaning of life. This is
the reason for education and working hard at a good job, to
support and nurture these children.
Unlike an automobile or television, these gifts from God
did not come with a manual or book of instructions, but
only with age old instincts for the mother and the father
(usually married back in the days I grew up), enhanced by
or diminished by nationality, ancestry, environment, mental
attributes or defcits, and a host of equally infuential others.
David was born on Mothers day, May 13, 1956, just
two weeks before my graduation from college. He was
a loving child who was very sensitive to the moods of
his mother and father. He did not go to my graduation,
although I am sure that he wanted to, but his mother did
in his place. He told me, when he was much older, that
the most beautiful sound that he knew when he was very
young, was his daddys whistle which announced that I was
home from work. He was a loving child, but could show an
ornery streak every once in a while. Like the time he locked
himself in the bathroom, and wouldnt let his mother in.
She was very upset and called me at work. I told her to tell
him that she would count to three, and that door had better
be opened. She started counting and the door opened. But
Steve got an earlier birthday because of that naughtiness.
Mom was stressed and went into early labor, and Steve was
brought into the world a little bit early, announcing his birth
with a reasonable amount of noise. So now there were two
sons, with no intention of having another.
They were the pride and joy of not only their mother and
father, but also of two sets of grandparents and numerous
other relations.
With schooling taking place in Mandeville, Slidell,
and Los Alamos, there were some changes that had to be
absorbed. However, when David was about ten years old
and Steve eight years old and Doug - Hey, when did Doug
join the family? Well, I remember now. It was on April
7th, the same birthday as my brother Chuck. The year was
1964 and we were living in Slidell, Louisiana with daddy
working for the Boeing Company on the facilities for the
construction of the frst space ship to go to the moon. All
three were born in Oschner Foundation Hospital in Jeffer-
son Parish, Louisiana. Doug was not planned, but what a
joy he was.
David and Steve used to play together and dad would
go with them on adventures. In Slidell we would go down
and walk along the railroad tracks back into the woods.
Another child was there with us, Frederick von Heinford,
a pure breed Dachshund, a small dog with a long body who
immediately claimed all of the boys as his. Fritzie would
go with us along the tracks, and although his legs were lon-
ger than they should be, he seemed to be working hard to
keep up with us. When a snake threatened Dave and Steve
at our house in Slidell, Fritzie was there between the snake
and the boys. He knew his duties.
Steve told me just a short while ago that his most pleas-
ant moments were when David would play with him. We
three, Dave, Steve and dad, loved to be together. Doug was
given ample attention from mom and dad, although he was
too young to participate in grown-up activities.
In December 1965 came the big move. A moving van
at the house and two cars with necessary items to start
with, on the road to Los Alamos, New Mexico - The Land
of Enchantment. With a few minor problems, like shift-
ing some car top load from the 1957 Ford to the younger
and stronger 1965 Plymouth station wagon and potty stops
along the way, we arrived in Santa Fe. We checked into
a motel, checked Fritzie into the escape proof wire mesh
surrounded Kennel reserved for canine guests, and went
out to eat. Fritzie was not happy about that. When we had
fnished eating and had looked around the town a little, we
went back to the motel and found Fritzie sitting at the door
of our room. So, contrary to motel policy, Fritzie spent the
night in the bathroom of the motel.
The next day we went up to Los Alamos to fnd just
where our house was, and at least learn where the build-
ing was that I had to report to on Monday morning. The
view was spectacular going over the hill just north of Santa
Fe, with the mountains, some snow capped, and the val-
ley spread out before us. Then there was the road up to
the hill. I drove in mountains before, going through the
Rocky mountains on the way from Seattle to St. Louis, but
this winding road was a bit scary. Sunday traffc was slow,
and we did not hold up any traffc, but the trip up to the hill
on Monday put us in the lead of a long line of cars with
Connie saying Ill never be able to leave the hill.
Monday came and we fnally got to our house on 36th
street, and found our way around the town, then cautiously
snaked our way down the front road before rush time.
David started school and Steve, Doug and Fritzie stayed
home and helped Connie get the house in order. We spent
our frst winter in Los Alamos on 48th street where the
snow falls frst. I had to
shovel snow while the boys,
Steve with Doug inside,
looked on. But the time
fnally arrived when the
house on 48th street was
bought and sold and we all
moved down to White Rock
where it snows a bit less
since we were 1200 ft lower
in altitude.
72
The view to the East from Los Alamos
We moved into our new home in White Rock in No-
vember of 1966. Above is the view from our back yard and
below is the canyon for the boys, including me, to explore.
The canyon is 800 feet deep at this point with the Rio
Grande River running south down below. In places it is
shallow enough to wade across, but after a rain it can wash
a car off of the road.
The canyon was a great playground for the boys, espe-
cially David and Steve. We would go down together all
the way to the river and then climb back up, sometimes up
walls of basalt which are almost vertical.
There was a lot to do when we arrived. Being from
Louisiana, we thought that the ground should be green, but
what we had when we moved in was some pitiful soil and
basalt out cropping in the southeast corner of the lot. In the
rest of the lot it was just below a couple of inches of dirt.
So in came some backfll, and plowing to open up the hard
clay surface. I had a rake with a stone on top of it that I
pulled around the yard. It didnt do too much for my back.
But after paying a few of the water bills, we settled on
having some grass, and the rest rock over black visqueen.
What does this have to do with my three sons? For whom
do you think we were doing this? We needed a place to
practice pitching in the back and a basketball hoop in the
front of the house.
Time passed and through grade school everything was
well, and all of the boys grew up and ft into the young
society. The Meyer and the Jalbert families down the street
had children David and Steves age, and the Britt family
up (east) the street had a little girl Dougs age. There were
other children around as well whom the boys met in school,
and this was a young community in White Rock, and a well
educated community as well. I only had a Masters degree
in Engineering but my neighbors across the street and next
door had PhDs. There were over 1000 PhDs in Los Alamos
out of a population of about seventeen thousand.
On September 19, 1969, I had my spleen removed
as this was the only remedy to the Hairy Cell Leukemia
that had my blood count down below a satisfactory level.
After that, my blood count rose to normal readings and I
felt much better. As an added beneft, my doctor gave me
Deans Spleen in a glass jar flled with preservative. It
stayed on a shelf for many years. One day Steve asked me
if he could borrow my spleen for a show-and-tell session
at school. I told him he could. He was apprehensive as he
carried his dads spleen to class for fear he would break the
bottle, and Deans spleen would be no more. He was care-
ful, and Deans spleen was placed on display during show-
and-tell. This was the frst time that a human spleen was
shown during show-in-tell, but not the last. In a few
years Doug also brought Deans spleen to class, and it was
73
still a sensation. It was discarded sometime later, but we
did set a frst on interesting exhibits at the school.
In spite of the interesting work and the high level of edu-
cation in Los Alamos, we were not exempt from the prob-
lems of the county. In the 1970s drugs were coming into
fashion and David frst, and then Steve took to indulging.
Even Doug experimented with some of the neighborhood
boys, but Steve found out and let me know. I told Doug in
no uncertain terms that any drugs are unacceptable, and that
we had too much pain already. He did stop.
In high school both Dave and Steve did poorly, not from
lack of intelligence, but because of the dont care attitude
which was rampart throughout the country. Dave was given
some encouragement by one of his teachers, and he went
on to earn a degree in Electrical Engineering. Steve was in
the bottom ten percent of his class, but joined the army and
went on to receive three college degrees later.
But life in Los Alamos wasnt all work and no play. We
had a fabulous canyon behind our house, just 200 feet from
our property line. Magnifcent scenery, mountains and
valleys and even local skiing at Pajarito Hill. Connie and I
learned to ski, after a fashion, and David and Steve became
experts while we were still going slowly down the bunny
slope. We had friends with whom we went skiing, one time
with disastrous results. On one ski trip we went up in our
Plymouth station wagon as a transporter, but the husband of
the other couple broke a leg, and the station wagon became
an ambulance to bring him to the hospital for medical treat-
ment. We had parties, with plenty of adult beverages
available. And we had two square dance clubs to choose
from. There was a problem with this: with one club you
had to go every week just to keep up with the new steps
that the club was learning, and with the other it was very
diffcult to complete a dance without someone messing
things up, and laughing.
The canyon became a big challenge for me and for
David and Steve. Within a few years we were travelling
down the steep slopes of basalt to the plateau about 600
feet below, and then down to the Rio Grande river. When
the boys came of age, like twelve years old or a little older,
each was taught how to use a frearm. When we went down
into the canyon we carried pistols for snakes. When David
was in his teens, he was challenged by a rattle snake, which
he promptly killed, and having a teen age appetite, he ate.
One day we were a little late in leaving the lower parts
of the canyon, and it was starting to get dark. We fnally
made it to the fnal plateau going home just as darkness was
becoming a problem. We couldnt fnd the easy path up
the slopes, so we went up the almost vertical sides of the
canyon. At that time I remembered how to pray again. All
three of us made it without incident, but it was a scare.
We had a basketball hoop on the garage in the front
(north side) of the house, and it got a lot of use. Then, at
the appropriate age to obtain a drivers license, we all ob-
tained motor bikes. I had a Honda 305cc motorcycle which
is big enough to really get up and go, David had a Honda
100 cc lightweight motorcycle and Steve had a Yamaha
lightweight motorcycle. It was fun using the motorcycle to
go to work, and parking was easy. On cold winter days I
would come in with my arms still in the same position that
they were when I was steering the Honda, with a motor-
cycle smile frozen on my face.
David and Steve never took too much interest in sports,
but Douglas did. From the time he was of age, he was
in Little League Baseball, and guess who got to be the
coach? Another person who had never had much interest in
sports, me! It was a lot of fun, and Doug was a great sport.
Whether he won (We won! He shouted from the truck as
we went to the store with the team for some ice cream), but
things were different when his team lost. Still the truck
with the team in the back, still the ice cream, but now they
shouted We almost won!
Deana & Grandpa
Back of house after wind storm
Offce with guns, bookcase and Flag
74
July 9, 1967 Steves frst communion with Keller family
Dean & Doug; Dora Tusa & Jake Tusa- grandparents
Dougs baseball team
Our house from the air- just above here! Much green!
Canyon is dark area above - over 800 feet deep.
But it is necessary to fll in the blanks. Those young and
middle aged persons shown above grew older with time. I
know that it is said time passes fast when youre having
fun, but it also passes fast when your life is a maze of joy
and sadness; when you are successful at much but still woe-
fully inadequate at other tasks or things, and when those
you love slowly, or rapidly, leave this life for the next.
On April 7, 1970, Hazel Dean Keller, my mother, left
this life to eternal life in the presence of our Creator. This
birthday was the same as for my brother Clarence E.
Keller Jr. (Chuck) and my son Douglas Dean Keller. In
June of 1972 my dad, Clarence E. Keller Sr., left to join
mom. These two grandparents on my side were followed
within a couple of years by Connies father, Jacob J. Tusa.
This was the normal passing from this life to the next ex-
cept for the causes for the premature death of my mother of
emphysema, caused by many years of smoking. The prema-
ture death of my father-in-law by lung cancer was probably
caused by working many years in a kitchen in his restaurant
business, possibly aggravated by second hand smoke. Con-
sider this an anti-smoking commercial. It has caused more
early deaths than all of the wars in our history. The next in
this long line of creation of new angels was not expected,
although further on in this biography it is shown how God
let us know that this was in His plans. That is comforting,
but it does not take away the pain.
David completed his studies and received an associate
degree as an electrical technician. He went to work with
Texas Instrument in Dallas Texas and was doing well. Con-
nie, Doug and I went to Dallas to visit with David and also
visit with two of our favorite people, Warren and Nellda
Vivirito, Connies uncle and aunt. We stayed at their house
in Richardson, Texas. Doug went to stay with David at his
apartment, with plans to go to Six Flags over Texas the next
morning.
The next morning Connie and I went garage sailing, and
found a sale of designer type clothes which Connie pur-
chased. Since this was right after a short but painful sepa-
ration, where she took Doug with her and got an apartment
in Albuquerque, it was good to see her happy.
When we got back to the house with our new supply of
clothing and having had a good time buying them, we re-
ceived a startling phone call. The person on the phone told
us that there had been an automobile accident in Arlington
and that the little boy had been badly hurt. The driver, Da-
vid, was not hurt, but badly shaken up. He said we should
get there as fast as possible, but dont speed; be careful.
The following, again, is the rest of the story.
1
75
It is diffcult to express joy through tears, but joy is there.
My wife and I brought a son into the world and he brought
much love and joy into our lives. But he was always a child
of God, even more than he was a child of ours. He was
loaned to us for twelve years, and for this we are eternally
grateful to our Father, God, and to His Son, Jesus. We now
thank our Father for being with us since Doug has had to
go home. But most of all we thank our Father for having
sent his son, Jesus to die and rise from the dead to assure
us that this parting is temporary. We will be with our son
again in the presence of Jesus.
To our Father, God, to our Savior, Jesus and to the Holy
Spirit we pledge our eternal love, praise and thanks.
These few short sentences were written by Dougs dad
on a typewriter at 533 Rover Blvd. on the morning that we
had the funeral service for Douglas Dean Keller. The ser-
vice was held at the Trinity on the Hill Episcopal Church in
Los Alamos, New Mexico. These few short sentences were
read by Jim Caldwell, a Charismatic Christian friend of the
Keller family, during the service. They express joy in the
midst of tears.
The premonitions to follow have to do with communica-
tions between Doug, Dave, Dad, Steve, Deana and Lucy
prior to and after August 21, 1976 when Doug went home.
This story is based upon memory of events which have
been confrmed with persons associated with those events.
This story will not stand up in court, nor will it convince
the doubter, but it brings comfort to an old man now typing
his heart out before he has to go to a joyful reunion with
those who have gone before.
Before
Information was written on the back of a picture of Jesus
by Connie about messages received from Christian friends
before the accident.
Ros Meyer, during July 1976 - It came to her that Doug
wasnt long for this world, after seeing him outside playing.
Emmaline, during July 1976 - Doug gave Mrs. Dirks
(Emmaline) a book that my wife had been reading and
wanted returned to her. Doug read the title The Kingdom
Within. and when he did Mrs Dirks said she knew, for the
words went through her.

Ros, August 20, 1976 - During a prayer meeting Jesus
told her that as a result of an auto accident there would be
another angel in heaven. (This is the evening before Doug
went home.)
Georgia, Connies sister, on Friday morning, August 20,
1976 heard Jake Tusa, Dougs Grandpa, already deceased,
speak with great joy in his voice, that he was happy over
his little one who was now with him.
On that day
We received a phone call from a person at the scene of
the accident that Doug was badly hurt, and that we should
go to the hospital in Arlington, Texas. While driving to the
hospital, about half way there, the words came to me in my
mind, Doug is dead.
Pam, Nelldas daughter, was due to have a baby, but
decided to go to the dance studio where she worked. There,
she saw a lady sitting in a chair, crying. She asked her
what was wrong. The lady said that she was at the scene of
an accident, where a little boy was badly hurt, and she had
just called the hospital and was told that he died. She said
that she was holding his head, as he was lying on the pave-
ment, and he was looking ahead and smiling. That little
boy was Doug. When you get close to Love Personifed,
you can see the host of witnesses who are surrounding us at
all times.
After: Davids Dreams
After the accident, David came home to Los Alamos and
enrolled in the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque.
While at school, he had a dream. In it he was walking to
class and saw Doug sitting on a bench. David went over to
him and sat down. After talking to Doug for a little while,
David said, I cant be talking to you, youre dead. Doug
then said in a very frm voice, I am more alive than you
are.
Doug came in a dream to Dave again and said, Hey
Dave, this is cool. I am with you now, and I am with you
when you are coming over to be with me, and they are both
at the same time, but they are not. A priest at the Benedic-
tine monastery in Pecos said that this is good theology.
This may be part of the frst dream, but I do not remem-
ber if it is. Doug and Dave were together. Doug appeared
to be older then he was when he went home, and very wise.
Doug went over to a door which was infnitely thick- this
would be representative of a door between dimensions,
such as the tunnel persons go through when they have an
out of body experience. He had a key, and opened the door.
Looking through the door, he saw a fat earth below. This
is also representative of looking from one dimension to
another. Doug then said I can see the good that man does,
and I can see the evil that man does, and it is all going to
end, very soon.
What is the meaning of these dreams? I do not know,
except that the communion of saints is very real, and we are
surrounded by a host of witnesses of those who have gone
before. And although we are not allowed to contact those
who have gone before, God allows them to contact us in
mostly quiet, very subtle ways.
A lot more could be said. I only want to say that Doug
brought so much joy into our lives, and so much sadness
when he left us to be with God, that any addition to that
statement would be counterproductive. David was in a
deep depression after the accident, but continued in school
at the University of New Mexico. What happens between
1976 and 1989 with David will be given on the next few
pages.
76
Life Goes On
What more can you say when the funeral is over, the
loss is accepted and you stand there, numb, wondering
why? I had a consulting job as an inspector on a house,
and immediately went back to work checking items that
should be done that werent, by a contractor who was not
as good as he had professed to be. David went back to
Texas Instrument but stated that he couldnt do his job well
because of the tears which were always in his eyes. I went
back to work at the laboratory but was not up to my usual
standard. I started seeing Frances Menlove again. She was
the laboratory psychologist who helped me with my grief
and depression. Everyone was kind to me, realizing the loss
in our lives.
Connie applied for a job at the laboratory since there
was no reason for her to just stay at home, and she would
rather be busy. There were over 200 applicants for that one
job, many of them qualifed. I knew the person hiring and
went to see him, not asking for any particular favors, but
for him to just consider her as I knew she was a hard work-
er, and would do a good job. He did interview her, talked
about her recent loss, and made her a job offer. She got off
to a rough start because of some personality problems, but
soon was making a contribution to the department.
David left Texas Instrument and started college at
the University of New Mexico in electrical engineering.
During this time frame he met Pepper Padilla and due to
the usual circumstances for young people in the 1970s,
they were married in the summer of 1978 in a clearing on
the top of a mountain just outside of Los Alamos. They
moved to Albuquerque where they lived while David was
in school. On March 23, 1979, Adam Douglas Keller was
born, our frst grandson. Things went well for a while but a
clash of personalities developed between David and Pepper
and they divorced.
David continued in school with support from us and a
little business that he and I developed. Typewriters were
being sold at the surplus yard by the Zia Company very
cheaply. Other items would also catch my attention. I
would buy these items at very low cost and David would
sell them at school to make a proft.
Depression for David was still a problem, but there
was help when David met Lucy Jones, a young lady who
was Navajo, very gentle and sweet, and who lived in the
same apartment complex that he did. As I understand the
situation, one night David went over to Lucys apartment,
knocked on the door, picked her up and carried her back to
his apartment. After they were living together for a while
I asked Lucy why didnt they get married. She replied that
in the Navajo culture when a woman or a man fnds the
person they want to live with, they move in and are married
in the eyes of the Navajo nation.
David did well in school and soon graduated and was of-
fered a position with the Navy at China Lake in California.
Before leaving for China Lake, David, Lucy, Connie and I
went to see a Justice of the Peace and David and Lucy were
married, on my birthday.
Well, David was now self supporting and on a great
job. The group had to go to Hawaii on a project just when
David reported for work. They gave him a reasonably
diffcult electrical engineering project to work on while
they were away for a couple of weeks. They said that they
would help him complete it when they got back. When
they came back, David had completed the project perfectly,
had it written up by China Lake standards and presented it
to his supervisor upon his return. He was very surprised,
and pleased. Things went well there and we visited many
times.
On August 13, 1982 Deana Nazhonnii Keller was born
with the proud grandmother, Connie, there to help. Deana
was and is a joy to be around, and we really enjoyed David,
Lucy and Deana when they came to visit us in Los Alamos,
NM.
David excelled at his work at China Lake, even being
granted a patent for a computer system which would devel-
op the Wave Surface Characterization. It was published
on August 2, 1988. He was attending graduate school for a
Masters Degree in Electronics Engineering and, I believe,
had a straight A report card. He had bought a prefabri-
cated house and placed it on a lot in Inyokern, California.
I witnessed him placing posts in the ground so that a fence
could be built around the house.
But the effects of the accident with his little brother
never left him. He would go riding in his car for hours at a
time. He would sometimes start drinking and then stop.
I dont remember when, but I believe it was in 1989 he
was having trouble with his drinking, so he loaded Lucy
and Deana in the car and left his house and drove to Los
Alamos for help. They stayed at our house and David
went to Pecos Benedictine Monastery, a Roman Catholic
Benedictine Charismatic Monastery. He had been baptized
Catholic, but was not practicing the Catholic faith at that
time. He met with a priest, went to confession and had a
long counselling session. He was trying his best to rid the
demons which were destroying him. He was somewhat
improved by that intercession. He then visited many times
with a lady friend of his mother, a charismatic Christian,
and they prayed for many days together. At the end of his
stay in Los Alamos he felt cleansed. He could sleep well at
night and did not feel the guilt that he had before.
77
And after all of this effort he went back to this work
to try and fnd support at China Lake. He was seeing a
psychologist in town which helped a little. But the Chris-
tian community there was not effective in reaching out to
a person with a problem. Things got so bad that he asked
Lucy to take Deana and go to Monument Valley until he
could straighten up his life. He was alone at home, and no
angels or helpful Christians came to visit or help. Maybe
they just didnt know. But those on the dark side knew and
were there to invite him to a bar or to try and make him
have a good time, no matter how evil it was.
In July of 1989 David called a Vinyard church about
100 miles to the south and west of Inyokern, and spoke to
the pastor. I do not remember precisely where this church
was, but it was supposed to have a powerful ministry. Dave
told him of his problem and the pastor said he did not know
if they could help him, but come down and lets talk about
it. So on a Sunday morning Dave drove about 100 miles
and went to the church. Inside he described the setting as
a church in the round with tables and chairs around the
central point - as best I can remember. He went there and
listened, but no one greeted him, asked if they could help,
or even bothered to talk to him. After the service was over
he tried to see the pastor with whom he had spoken. The
pastor, who was told that David would be there looking for
him, was surrounded by persons telling him how wonder-
ful he was, and Dave did not even get close to him. So
he went home. He called me and told me what happened.
Such is Christian love. A few days later he was dead.
I tried to reach David on the phone on July 4th and had
no answer. I called the Inyokern police department and told
them of the situation and they said they would investigate.
I received a call from them that the dog was outside, tied to
a stake with water running nearby and no one was answer-
ing the door. I told them to break in and fnd out what was
going on. They did, and saw a note on the wall as they
came in telling them to be careful of electrical wires as they
might be hot. They found David in the bathtub, because
he didnt want to mess up the house. I received a call from
the police telling me all of these details. Steve, Mary, Lucy
and Deana were at our house visiting. Strange thing. I was
a bad boy so I slept on the couch the night my son died.
Steve, Connie, Lucy, Deana and I left the next morning
for Bakersfeld and Inyokern. We left Deana with a relative
on the way to Bakersfeld. When we arrived at Bakersfeld
we found that David had made all arrangements for crema-
tion and disposal of the body. We were not allowed to see
the body because of the condition. I paid the necessary
fees and we went to Inyokern. We went to the house and
found that David had packed everything up in boxes so that
it could be transported easily. Steve volunteered to clean
the bathtub, since death does leave a foul odor. We rented a
trailer and prepared to move the contents of the house back
to Los Alamos, but not before having a memorial service
for Dave.
At the memorial service we met Davids supervisor who
told us what a wonderful employee he was. We also met
his drinking buddy whom I believe is guilty of willful
homicide. But whats a few drinks among friends? He also
made a few statements during our conversation which I
believed should have rated a knife in his stomach, but when
one is faced with the devils assistant, one has to remember
his own Christianity.
I was asked to say a few words, so I went up the stairs
to a little platform, praying the prayer of St. Francis of As-
sisi. as I did. I dont remember what I said, but it was well
received, even by his drinking buddy.
Back to Los Alamos to sort out with Lucy what was in
the boxes. We found that David had a large life insurance
policy and social security. We went down to the Los Ala-
mos National Bank where the Insurance check was placed
in a CD account which would yield suffcient money for
Lucy to support herself and Deana - along with the Social
Security. David prepared very well for this. All he wanted
to do was to keep from hurting anyone by his failure - or
was it our failure? Davids ashes came to us by UPS.
Mary Keller stated just a few weeks ago that they had
a questionnaire about the greatest problems of the church.
The leading factor was that people are not greeted when
they are in the church, do not really feel wanted, or loved,
are not included unless they are in that special group of
persons who really have value. Like one person who was
an alcoholic said on a tape about his religious life, I feel
more love from the fellow alcoholics that I meet in the
meetings or on the street than I do in the churches.
I have noted that in the Presbyterian Church that Jean
belongs to, and that I attend with her, whenever she sees
someone new, especially if they are standing alone, she al-
ways approaches them and cheerfully greets them and starts
a conversation with them. That should be the norm!
I went into a deep depression but Prozac prescribed to
me by my doctor snapped me out of it in a miraculously
short time. I believe that it was God, not the medication
that made the difference. I had much to do over the next
few months.
It was not Gods plan for David to leave the world the
way he did, but the forces of darkness were much stronger
than the forces of light, and David, still suffering from the
loss of his little brother, did not want to hurt anyone else.
On the next few pages there is more information about
what happened during and after Davids death. Only the
body dies, the spirit is alive and well and waiting for us,
the ones who are left behind, to come join them in that land
where there is only love and caring and the things of the
earth are left behind. The spirit is part of reality, all the
rest is just a stage on which we act out parts in this life.
78
A Close Encounter in a Church
Some time after that, I cant remember when, Lucy
called us. She said that she had been in a Seventh Day Ad-
ventist Church in Farmington, NM for a noon day service.
I believe she said that they were singing the song Because
He lives, I can face tomorrow when she looked over the
song book and saw David in the row in front of her, facing
her. He was wearing his favorite T-shirt, You meet the
nicest people in the mountains. There was another fgure
in biblical gown over to the side, but you couldnt distin-
guish anything about this person.
David looked very sad, and had tears coming down his
cheeks, as he said Im very sorry, will you please forgive
me? Lucy felt some anger rise within her, and she thought
You left me to raise our daughter, alone! Then the anger
melted, and Lucy extended her hand towards David and
said I forgive you. After that moment he disappeared.
Dreams
The frst dream that I had was unlike any dream that I
had ever had in that it was more real than an actual encoun-
ter with a person face to face. David came to me, looking
very sad, and stated Im sorry for all the grief that I have
caused. I forgave him.
The next day I called Steve and told him that David
came to me in a dream last night. He replied that Dave had
come to him in a dream, also. Steve then remarked that
he looked very sad. Steve told me that David had said to
him in his dream Lets play. I did not understand this
until Steve told me that as a little boy he received much joy
when his big brother asked him to play with him.
I spoke to Deana a little while after Dave had come to
me and to Steve in a dream and asked her if her dad had
come to her also. She said that he did, and that he told her
I am going to miss you, Deana.
79
What happens after death?
I know there is no way to bring Dave back
to this short life, but only hope I will meet him
again: do some shooting, share some laughs and
tell some tall tales. Yes George, so do I.
I have met tens of thousands in my long life,
and each has meant something to me; many
have meant a lot to me, and some were very pre-
cious. What is Heaven like? An excerpt from
one semi-scientifc explanation follows:
The characteristics of the new creation tell
us that it will be vastly different from what we
are use to on earth. Probably the most notice-
able difference will be the lack of gravity. The
New Jerusalem is described as a 1,500 mile
cube. Structures of this size would automatically
become a sphere in this universe, because of
gravity. Therefore gravity will either be absent
or signifcantly reduced in the new creation.
I would not want to belittle the writer of this
description, because it is just part of the numer-
ous proverbial descriptions of heaven. In Islam
there is a sensual heaven with granted desires;
Hinduism speaks of other planets; the Masons
call it a city not built by hands; Jehovah Wit-
nesses state that only 144,000 persons will enter
- and on and on to describe the abode of our
Creator. I will try to describe, without proclaim-
ing infallibility, my views.
First of all there is the concept of time. At the con-
ception of the universe, matter did not exist. Then time
grabbed hold and matter was created. This was pro-
posed by Nachmanides (Spain, Jewish Torah commentator
-1300AD) and confrmed by Albert Einstein in the early
1900 s with the formula E=MC
2
. Therefore there is no
time in Gods dimension. (Peter: A day with the Lord is
like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day)
And without time there can be no matter, so the abode of
the Creator has to be outside of our space-time continuum.
Another dimension, infnite in all directions, yet completely
flled with the essence of our Creator.
Without matter there can not be a body, but it is possible
for the complete essence of our being is contained within a
spiritual entity with cognizance supplanting sight, hearing,
feeling and taste. This is reasonable since the entity which
is our total being is seldom seen at the moment of transition
from this life to the next, but there are numerous examples
of persons long dead visiting the living with specifc mes-
sages.
But back to the original question. Will we recognize
others? You cannot say you do not have enough time, for
there is eternity. You dont have to go by plane, train or
automobile because location in infnity is immaterial. Then
there is the statement by Jesus: John 17:20 My Prayer is
not for them along ...that all of them may be one, Father,
just as you are in me and I am in you, may they also be in
us. We are one with the Father, Jesus, the Holy Spirit and
each other! God is in me and in you. I must welcome and
love the spirit of God in you.
When we arrive in Gods dimension we may be among
billions of spiritual entities, each of whom has all of the
good characteristics that they had in their previous life.
And there will be complete order. If you want to be with
your mom, you will instantly be; and love, thoughts, etc.
will fow between you and complete love will be ex-
changed. Want to visit with all whom you have known in
this life? Instantly you will one on one and one on many -
whichever is desired. Am I wrong? I do not know, but I do
know that with our Creator, all things are possible. Amen
1 Corn 2:9 However, as it is written: No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God
has prepared for those who love him I believe this says it all!
80
Racing for the Barn - Retirement - and a Few Years for Consulting
From 1969 on, I had to live with the shadow of Hairy
Cell leukemia looming over me. It was present when I had
my physical for employment at the Los Alamos Scien-
tifc Laboratory, as my blood counts were abnormal. But
fortunately it was not considered serious, and I did not even
know it was there. But in 1969 it became a dangerous foe
as I was given fve months to live, and I had to live with it.
This was not a correct diagnosis. For a while it was scary,
but every time my blood started dropping badly, a new
chemotherapy became available and I kept on trucking. In
January of 1989, my bone marrow was clear and the leuke-
mia had changed from a scary villain to a nuisance which
I could work around. Except for hospital visits, I never let
it interfere with my work, and my performance improved
over my years at the Laboratory.
In February 1992, testing revealed that my bone marrow
was infltrated with hairy cells again, but I was on Alpha
Interferon and my blood counts were doing well. A new
Chemotherapy became available, Cladribine (also known
as 2CdA) and treatment over a week period chased most
of the hairy cells away. That year the Laboratory had an
excellent incentive plan to allow many of us older employ-
ees a chance to retire with very good extra benefts. I was
only 61 years old and willing to leave, but thought I should
talk to my Division Leader, Roy Haarman, frst. We talked,
and he said that he could not encourage or discourage me,
but he would be pleased if I were to stay. I was involved in
many large projects at that time. I stayed. My actual retire-
ment date was November 3, 1993, and by that time I was
ready to turn my projects over to another person.
Other major projects prior to retirement were:
Tiger Team Consultant for Seismic analysis 1990-91
Seismic-Hazards Investigations in Los Alamos 1991-95
Project leader for Paleoseismic Investigation
by Woodward-Clyde Inc

Projects after retirement:
TA-3 CMR Seismic upgrade, Merrick & Co 1993-95
TA-55 Fire Protection Main Replacement 1997-98
Consultant to Molzen & Corbin

Plus many other consulting engagements.
=======================================================================================
Seismic -Hazards Investigation in Los Alamos
All of my previous engineering work had been in New
Orleans, and hurricanes and dynamic loading from hur-
ricane driven waves for structures in the Gulf of Mexico
were the only dynamic design for structures that I had to
accomplish. At Los Alamos, however, two parameters
required me to become an expert in earthquake design.
One was the site of the laboratory on the fank of a dormant
volcano with the resulting seismic characteristics, and the
second was the nature of some of the structures being de-
signed. Some of the structures that I had to design, study or
review contained nuclear material and had to resist seismic
forces much greater than required of industrial structures. I
was frst introduced to seismic forces when I was assigned
as a structural reviewer and project manager on the Los
Alamos Meson Physics Facility. One of my projects was
to write a report on Ground Vibration Characteristics of
Mesita de Los Alamos, along with two other engineers/ge-
ologists. This was a steep learning curve and it was really
an enjoyable assignment. I did well.
The seismic characteristics of Los Alamos were studied
previously, but the latest requirements for nuclear struc-
tures required a much more comprehensive study of the
magnitude and frequency of possible seismic events. I was
selected to head this program with the assistance of two
geologists in the laboratory: Jamie Gardner and Lee House.
They were my closest contacts and were world class in
their feld.
The location of most faults was known. However, there
could be others not yet found. Also, the magnitude of past
faults and how long ago was the last activity was not
known. This would require a Paleoseismic Investigation.
There are companies which specialize in this discipline,
and requests for proposals were sent to a number of frms.
Of the proposals sent to the Laboratory, one was outstand-
ing. This was submitted by Ivan Wong of Woodward Clyde
in Oakland, California. It not only gave a proposal on how
to accomplish the work, but also gave a synopsis of work to
date in the Los Alamos area.
I obtained the approval of my supervisors and fellow
members of our team, and issued a request for further
development of the concept given, with a starting ceiling of
$50,000. The contract ended over $1,000,000.
When an earthquake occurs, the ground on one side of
the fault will move with respect to the ground on the other
side of the fault. This displacement can be seen if a trench
is dug across the fault line and the precise location of the
fault is determined. Organic material at the location of the
fault slide can be dated by the Carbon -14 method in the
order of 50,000 years by counting techniques. That can be
extended to perhaps 100,000 years by accelerator tech-
niques.
This is usually adequate for determining the return pe-
riod of a seismic event, but other methods are available if a
longer period is needed.
8l
Although I was project manager for this project, I
depended on my consultants for technical content. My
job was to facilitate the project, run interference when the
project was threatened by bureaucracy, help in the fund-
ing aspects of the project and LEARN. It was fascinating
learning from world class geologists and being able to
retain enough to explain the concepts to others.
Los Alamos
has many seis-
mic faults as
the diagram to
the right shows.
Geotechnical
analysis is both
a science and
an art. From
the numer-
ous faults it is
necessary to
select those
faults which are
more probable
to cause dam-
age to critical
facilities . After
this is done, a
trench is dug as shown below. Safety is a paramount con-
cern, although it is
not as big a prob-
lem, sometimes, as
endangered species
or archeological or
historic structures.
A silvery minnow
that was considered
endangered was a
block for a while to
digging at certain
locations. Just a few
years ago, it was fsh
bate. An old cabin
was blocking the
digging of a trench
across a fault. It
was a log cabin, and was said to be over 50 years old by
the archeological personnel and they especially wanted to
examine the waste at an outhouse. I told them that I was
over 50 years old, and no!
Then there were the budget problems and commitments.
I built up a good relationship with the Department of En-
ergy (DOE) and could often call upon them for help when
someone in upper management set his own priorities and
broke commitments to the University of California or DOE.
These were some of the types of problems I had to counter,
but the learning experience made it all worth while.
This picture shows a geologist down at the bottom of the
trench. Note that the trench is twice as deep as the geolo-
gist is tall. You can always tell a geologist because they
carry their little picks with them.
I retired from the laboratory before this project was
completed and assigned the project to Doug Volkman,
whom I had hired many years ago. He did a magnifcent
job in assuring the completion of the project. After retire-
ment, Doug hired me as a consultant to compile a compos-
ite of all of the soil borings with additional information for
the laboratory. He told me that his peers said I couldnt do
it in less than six or seven months - something like that-
so he gave me four months. He said that he knew that I
worked best under pressure. As best as I can remember, I
completed it in about three months.
The Woodward Clyde project was completed in 1995
and was delivered in three large loose leaf folders. The
cost had grown to be over a million dollars, which is not
unusual for large studies. But the show goes on. Seismic
prediction is very diffcult to determine. Volcanos, earth-
quakes, tornados and hurricanes seem to have a mind of
their own. However, with increased knowledge and tools
to assign values to these phenomena, we are able to predict
with a somewhat reasonable degree of confdence, but we
are sometimes surprised. And sometimes scared, especially
when nuclear facilities are involved.
Between 1996 and 2004 a number of paleoseismic stud-
ies have been conducted in Los Alamos to improve data. A
more recent study recognized some Holocene (last 10,000
years) events not recognized in the 1995 study. This may
imply slip rates (movement along fault lines) roughly six
times higher than previously determined.
This was a fascinating assignment with the challenges
of high tech science, the fascination of dealing with the
probability of diffcult to predict events happening, and
the intrigue of working in a bureaucracy which sometimes
works against its own interest.
82
Seismic -Hazards Investigation in Los Alamos
Tiger Team and Preliminary Seismic Analysis of Laboratory Buildings
Because of my previous work on dynamic design,
classes that I have taken and apparent knowledge of the
art of seismic design, I was chosen to be the Engineering
Division seismic point man. Or was it shake and rattle - I
shake when I get one of these assignments and rattle off as
much information as I can think of to keep up. Fortunately,
by this time, I had met many real experts on seismic design
and had been able to hire some of them and increase my
knowledge on the gentle art of earthquakes.
I was given two assignments. One was to represent the
laboratory on the Tiger Team for seismic matters including
TA-55, a critical plutonium facility and other sites. The
Tiger Team was assigned by the Department of Energy to
review DOE facilities for safety matters of all kinds. This
included seismic. When I frst started on this shaky ad-
venture I decided that we needed an inventory of all critical
buildings based upon nuclear content or high population
safety. The other was to develop a methodology for and
a comprehensive determination of the safety of all of the
buildings at the Los Alamos National Laboratory.
Having a good knowledge of many of the buildings in
the laboratory, I started making a listing of buildings, their
purpose, the dangers associated with their function and the
number of personnel in the building. A lot of this infor-
mation was available through laboratory records. Then I
had to determine which type of building would fail during
an design earthquake, and which would survive. Using a
spread sheet, I listed all buildings which could be damaged
by a seismic event and the consequence of failure in terms
of personnel and nuclear material release, and sorted them
according to the danger that would be caused by an earth-
quake. This was the beginning of a comprehensive listing
of buildings and their probability of failure for the Labora-
tory.
The Uniform Building Code (UBC) at this time was
updated every three years. It was replaced in the year
2000 by the International Building Code which was a
merger of three predecessor codes. During the cold war
underwater monitors were placed to detect the travel of
Russian submarines. These monitors also recorded seismic
events and helped to develop the present concept of tec-
tonic plates. This was a major geological breakthrough in
the understanding of ground movement, the cause of most
seismic events around the world. The Alaskan earthquake
added more emphasis on the seismic design requirements
of buildings. This involved many studies of failures of
buildings, and why they failed. From 1950 to 1990 the
knowledge about design for resistance to earthquakes
made a quantum leap. Changes in design philosophy in the
1967 UBC and subsequent changes in the 1971 ACI codes
required ductility in concrete frames. This determined that
many buildings considered resistive to seismic forces be-
fore were now designated unsafe. Types of building which
were now dangerous when subjected to seismic forces
were those with precast concrete frames and cast-in-place
concrete frame structures. The devil is in the details. After
these code changes, the design of the joints between col-
umns and beams was greatly under the strength required.
This study, LA-UR-93-3642, Life Safety and Seismic
Hazards - Selecting Buildings for Review and Questions
Still to Answer was presented at the DOE Natural Phe-
nomena Hazards Mitigation Conference, October 19-22,
1993 in Denver, CO. This was less than two weeks before
my retirement from the laboratory.
The laboratory had many struc-
tures using these older design codes,
including the Administration Build-
ing in TA-3. This building housed
the top management of the labora-
tory - on the top foor (fourth). In a
presentation to senior management, I
told them that they should be proud
to have the courage to work on the
fourth foor of the most seismic
susceptible building in the laboratory.
One of the top managers stated If
this thing collapses, I dont want to
hear any giggling down there. That
building has now been replaced.
These seismic study accomplish-
ments were part of the reason for
my being awarded the Certifcate of
Appreciation which was given to me
at my retirement ceremony by the
Department of Energy.
83
The Los Alamos National Laboratory was planning a
new plutonium facility adjacent to the existing one, at Tech
Area 53 off of East Jemez Road. An engineering company
in California had been assigned the project of writing a
design criteria, and spent one year and one million dollars
without being able to satisfy the users requirements. I was
called into the division leaders offce and told that I had
a critical project. We had to complete design criteria for
the new plutonium facility in seven weeks; I was in charge
and also had to write the structural criteria, I had Gordon
Albury for an architect, Ralph Marsh for a civil engineer,
Ralph Yetter for a mechanical engineer, Merle Koepke for
an electrical engineer and Cheryl as a part time secretary. I
did my typing and Gordons typing myself, as I was faster
than the secretary. It sounded like fun, so we were all
relocated to the CMR Building and were assigned comput-
ers for the project. My wife, Connie, worked in Supply and
Property and helped us to get the necessary computers.
We were isolated in our offces from the rest of the
laboratory, except for obtaining the help that we needed.
We were to have a lawyer to oversee the conformity with
standards and uniformity of the Design Criteria, but he was
building a house so didnt show up until after the project
was completed. His superiors, being lawyers and always
thinking about how to screw something up, told him to fnd
something wrong with the document. He did. He said that
it looked like it was written by fve different people. I was
guilty, it was written by fve different people, and we had
no time to have it rewritten by a professional editor. We
didnt even have the time to proof read and apply gram-
matical corrections to the document. In private he told me
that it was the best technical document he had ever seen.
Naturally since we met the urgent deadline which was
absolutely necessary, there was now time to take what had
been done and do it over again and my friend, Art Salgado,
took over for me, and I went back to other work.
A similar facility to our existing Plutonium Facility was
being constructed in the United Kingdom at Aldermaston.
The Los Alamos Plutonium Facility was used as a guide
(almost a direct copy). Members of our team, including
me, were told that we should go to Aldermaston to talk with
the British Engineers on that project. We also found that
those engineers wanted to do the design of our facility for
which we just wrote the criteria. I was told that I was go-
ing, but Gordon Albury was not. I was off of the project at
that time, and thought that was not fair, so I asked them to
send Gordon instead of me. Now Gordon was an architect,
a bit eccentric, a liberal, a gun banner and all kinds of bad
things, but he was a good architect, so I told the powers that
be that I wasnt going. This caused a stir and one of the su-
pervisors came to my offce and told me you are directed
to go to Aldermaston! I answered Nobody directs me!!!
The next day I was visited by Dick Hemphill, a group
leader, and a very good friend. He told me that the Labora-
tory wanted me to go, and needed me to document any in-
formation that might come from the meetings. He asked me
to think it over this weekend and whatever I decided, would
be OK. You cant turn down a request from a friend, even
though he did smoke smelly cigars when he and I shared a
trailer. So Monday I told him I would go. And besides, he
asked me as a friend, not ordering me. Connie also shared
this trip with me.
So on with the trip! We landed at Heathrow on October
3, 1987 and took the train to Reading, which was our base
for meetings at Aldermaston. We were staying in a nice
small hotel in Reading with dining downstairs and every-
thing American except for a wash rag. We learned that
it is illegal to dance on Sunday in the UK. We learned this
after, inspired by the music in the dining room, we did a
little dance. We were forgiven since we were Yanks, and
you cant expect Yanks to know everything.
We spent the rest of the day getting settled down in our
hotel and getting over our jet lag. The next morning was
a Sunday and we asked at the desk about churches in the
area. We were told of a nearby church and, after breakfast,
we walked over there. It was an old church, with small
benches which almost made me put my knees up around
my neck. The Brits were very friendly and the service was
an Anglican service with most of the congregation being
charismatic. For the frst time I heard the song Shine
Jesus, Shine. Wow, could those Brits sing! We spoke to
the vicar on the way out of the church and he commented
on the Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggart scandals. I believe
that I replied that kind of behavior was going on for a long
time in the church, at least back to Henry VIII and further.
He acknowledged that we all have the same problems. We
spent the rest of the day looking around town and resting
because work started tomorrow.
Adventures to the East Across the Big Pond.
The Los Alamos Plutonium Facility - TA-55
84
The next day, Monday, October 5, our group was picked
up by a limousine and brought to Aldermaston. Looking at
the construction underway, we saw somewhat of a twin of
the facility we had in Los Alamos. We were checked in and
had introductions and presentations about progress. Also,
the use of automated transport systems proposed and in
place was discussed. They were doing quite well at im-
proving on the design we had done a few years ago. That
night we had a reception and dinner with the engineers and
managers of the facility. One Brit with whom I was talking
decided to discuss the colonies with me. He stated that the
UK took all of their prisoners, beggars, religious radicals
and other unwanted persons and shipped them off to the
colonies. I just grinned a little and stated that they did the
same with Australia, and Australia became a great nation
also. He made a mistake when he got home. He told his
wife about our conversation. The next day he came in and
told me that his wife did not approve of his comments and
he had better make amends! He apologized for his com-
ments and said that he knew that the Yanks liked old things,
so he brought a copy of a very old Shakespeare book for
me. In the book he had written on a separate sheet of paper
from an insular Brit to a cosmopolitan American. I have
passed that old book down to Mary and Steve so that it will
stay in the family.
After a few days of this we were on our own to do our
own thing. Connie found that they had shoes in the UK
that she couldnt get back in the USA. Something to do
with the width the Brits kept this width in good supply at
home because more Brits had that size shoe than any other.
We moved into another hotel right off of Hyde Park and
walked around London, bussed around London on those
two storey busses, and enjoying British products which
were on sale. We also had a special treat; Les Miserables
was playing in downtown London and Connie got two tick-
ets for it. We put on our glad rags and went to the theatre.
We ended up in a glass enclosed room at the upper level
with two other Yanks not even a Brit to talk to. I guess
they wanted to isolate us from the natives so they wouldnt
be polluted. The play was magnifcent.
Back in the early days the British tribes who painted
their faces blue for some reason or another, were picked
on by the Vikings, the Romans, the French and each other.
The Romans, with the discipline, tactics and military equip-
ment of their soldiers were able to subdue the Brits in most
engagements. The Brits, not wanting to hold a grudge,
had a very handsome statue of Julius Caesar in London. (I
believe, but memory is dim on this) In order to honor this
great warrior from two millennia ago, I posed next to him.
Dont we look good together, although I do not believe that
he was taller than I am.
We took a
side trip down
to Dover on the
train. While
riding to Dover
we noticed that
there were houses
along the tracks,
a reasonable dis-
tance back, and
every back yard
had a beautiful
vegetable garden.
My memory is
very poor about
this phase of the
trip, but I do have
three pictures
that were taken
in the UK; where
I cannot remem-
ber. But I, being
the camera hog,
am in all three. I
do look good in my rain coat, even if I am wearing tennis
shoes. Within the UK, the rain coat is always in vogue.
We went back to Heathrow with our suitcases full of
shoes and caught the plane to go back to the USA after
a most enjoyable trip. This was probably on the 15th or
maybe the 16th, but whichever day it was, the Great Storm
of 1987 hit London later that day or that night. It tore up
trees in Hyde Park, shut electricity down and had highest
winds of over 130 mph. When we left Hawaii a few years
later, the volcano shut down for a few days. In the UK a
hurricane hits the place where we were staying. We have
to be more careful where we go. No trips to Yellowstone
National Park. There is a Mega-Volcano right below the
surface in that area.
Julius Caesar & Dean Keller, two
Great Warriors of two different ages
85
Hands Across the Ocean, Happenings to the East, Across the Big Pond
Lucy and Deana Keller pictured with
Katrin Weidner
My daughter-in-law, Lucy Keller, and granddaughter, Deana, had two foreign student guests over a couple of years.
Ola Johansson, a young man who was from Sturefors Linkoping in Sweden and Katrin Weidner from Munich, Ger-
many. Each stayed with Lucy and Deana for a year during their high school education. This was part of a foreign studies
program which enhanced the use of the American language and to dispel or reinforce any positive or negative concepts
about the United States of America. Ola and Katrin are still in contact with the Keller family, and have made subsequent
trips to the United States. Ola came with his brother Niklas and spent time with Lucy and Deana and then with the Los
Alamos Keller family as well. Katrin was kind enough to come all the way from Germany to be at the wedding of Dean
and Jean in Tulsa, and spent time with us and with Lucy and Deana. Below and above are pictures introducing the mem-
bers of Olas family, whom we were privileged to visit in 1994, and Katrin, above, who came to our wedding.
Rolf, in his natural element - on the water. A
delightful person to be around, and a mem-
ber of the local police department.
Eva, who is a wonderful hostess.
She also speaks many languages,
and is an Olympic class athlete.
Ola and Niklas shown at the
canyon in the back of our house.
Two delightful young men.
Erik, the youngest of the Johanssons - and I
dont know why he has his horns upside down.
Another participant at this grand party was MUSIC. The Swedes
were noted to break into song at any moment, and at this great gather-
ing there was at least one American who believed that music is one of
the great contributions of man to his fellow man. So, at the drop of a
hat, or any other occasion a song would be started, in English for the
beneft of the minority English speaking participants, with immediate
participation by others in the group. I believe the major instigators
were Eric (the red) and Dean, both of whom live with a song in their
heart. The red is a memory trick that I used to remember the names
of Eric and his wife Anna (and the King of Siam).
86
During the summer of 1994, after retirement from the
Los Alamos National Laboratory, but still engaged as a
consultant through M. Dean Keller, Engr, Connie and I
visited with the Johansson family in Sweden. We landed in
Stockholm on July 9, 1994 and made our way to Sturefors
by way of the Johanssons car. This was a lovely home in
a residential area, much like you would fnd in the United
States. Eva, Olas mother, was a person who spoke many
languages, was involved in athletics, like the Olympics, and
could swim, row and was otherwise at home on the water.
Rolf worked for the police department in the local jurisdic-
tion. This time of the year was the time of short nights and
very long days. The sun would rise about 3:45 AM and set
at 10:00 PM. The weather was beautiful. We were assigned
our room and found that the Johanssons had separate
bedrooms. Eva appeared to be a independent person, and
each wanted his and her own space. But they were a loving
couple. We were assigned two camp sized beds, but we
both slept in one bed to the amusement of our hosts.
There was some time for overcoming jet lag, during
which we became acquainted with our hosts and their local
area. We also spent sometime planning which included a
trip to the local town, the church on Sunday, a side trip by
boat to Helsinki, a fun trip to Gothenburg for the games
ending with a few days on our own in Stockholm.
During the frst week, Rolf took me down to the police
station where he worked and introduced me as a police
chief from the United States. We had some interesting dis-
cussions about guns and I was shown the fring range in the
building and the weapons available. I found that we both
had Sig Sauer 9mm pistols, but the Swedish police only
had nine shot clips while I had a 16 shot clip. They were
considering converting to larger clips, as crime was becom-
ing more violent in this very peaceful country.
Ola and I made a trip to the nearby town where I pur-
chased a Swedish fag, some other trinkets and a Viking
hat, with horns, so I could blend in with the local popula-
tion. Ola carefully watched over me and made sure that I
got the best price for each item.
A view of houses and cars in Sweden
Eva & Ola outside of their house
Ola in his room
Blending in with the local population
87
Church services in Sweden Members of the congregation outside of the Church
Sunday came and we went to church in the city. I do not
remember very much about the service, probable because it
was mostly in Swedish. But it was a very dignifed service
with beautiful singing and colorful dresses on the ladies.
As can be seen above, the participants and the clergy wore
white.
The order of what happened next is not clear my mind
as this was sixteen years ago and although I have many
pictures, I do not have them dated nor have notes on the
back of the pictures. This was before the digital camera,
and flm had to do.
The next adventure I will cover
is going swimming in Sweden,
Where, I do not remember, but it
was an area with rocky landscape
and deep water. We traveled from
the car on a path with boulders
on each side, wearing our street
clothes and carrying our bathing
suites. When we arrived at the
beach which was very rocky,
I did not see any change houses.
So, I was taught the Swedish
method of changing to the bathing
suit. I took off my shirt, under-
shirt, shoes and socks and placed them in a neat pile. I then
wrapped a towel around my waste, and slipped my pants
off. Nobody even noticed. I then pulled up my multicol-
ored bathing suit, took off the towel and placed it with my
clothing.
I studied the water a little bit,
and found that it wasnt too cold,
but I did not know how deep it was.
Rolf was already swimming out
from the shore.
I decided that it was time to
get into the water, and in I dove. I
couldnt feel the bottom, so I asked
Rolf how deep the water was in this
area. He replied about 30 metres
or so, and I started evaluating my
swimming skills. I was not like my
brother who could swim across the Mississippi near our
house where it was a mile across. I was doing OK, so I
swam around for a while, enjoying the water and wonder-
ing where the life preservers were.
After a while we got out of the water and came back
on land, happy for an exhilarating experience. Placing a
towel on some rocks, I relaxed and talked with Eva. There
is no doubt that Eva is a socialist. She commented that the
United States was watched as it moved closer to socialism,
then moved away over and over again. This was discour-
aging. I did not argue with her as I have mixed emotions
with capitalism and socialism. Each is only as good as the
motives of the persons who are making the laws.
88
Stockholm, One of the Most Beautiful Cities in the World
My memory is hazy as to where, when and with whom,
but it is those memories which stand out which are the most
profound. The subway system in Stockholm is beautiful
and effcient, and the people in Sweden are the most gra-
cious, kind and loving that I have ever met.
When I was in a subway terminal before going up, I saw
a booth with items to buy nearby. A young lady was behind
the counter of the booth, and I approached her and asked if
she could sell me a map of the Stockholm Subway System.
She said that she could, but that I could obtain the same
over there at no charge. Maybe it isnt capitalism, but
it sure is a wonderful change from the cheating, lying and
greed shown by some under our capitalistic system.
I was with Ola when we visited the home of the King of
Sweden. There was a large crowd from around the world
watching the Royal Guard on parade at the Royal Pal-
ace. We were crossing the street, and had to hurry a little
because a black limousine was coming. Ola told me that
we had the privilege of almost being run over by the King.
What a delight!
In downtown Stockholm we saw the most beautiful
blend of art and buildings that we had ever seen. In the
picture to the right, I am standing next to a golden statue,
and it is was not alone. There were numerous statues by
the various buildings, and
gold appears to be the color
of choice.
The city was beauti-
fully clean and the layout
of the buildings and parks
complemented each other.
Much of this was new (after
1900) construction, but
the same can be said of the
older parts of the city as
well. There is a continuous
history of the construction
over hundreds of years.
The highlight of the Stockholm visit was the Vasa
Museum. It is the number one attraction in all of Sweden.
In it is an almost intact 17
th
century warship, Vasa, which
was raised from the sea after three centuries underwater.
It carried 64 cannons on two decks and was designed by a
Dutch ship builder, Henrik Hybertsson for King Gustavus
Adolphus. It was on its way to wage war against Poland
when it sank in 100 feet of water in Stockholms harbor. It
was blown onto its side by wind, allowing water to enter its
gun ports. The museum was the most complete collection
of maritime artifacts in the world. These artifacts include
four other foating museum ships, clothes, preserved food
and beverages, silver and gold coins, and of course-a well
stocked gift shop.
The picture below of the Vasa, is taken from the internet
as the picture that I had taken did not do the ship justice.
This museum is so spectacular that I would recommend
that any visitor to Stockholm place this museum frst on
their list.
89
Time for the Games in Gothenburg
They came by plane, train, automobile and boat, and
combinations of these methods of transportation. They
came to Gothenburg for the yearly games. To the winner
went the satisfaction of being the winner. While we were
there, a boat arrived at the dock near the house where we
were staying and Eric (the red) and Anna (and the king
of Siam) arrived. (memory trick) They lived just a few
minutes away in their house on the lake, and knew how to
row. Because of the two Americans present this year it was
decided that the offcial language of the games would be
English. Thanks be to God.
The frst matter of business was to instruct the players
on the rules of the game. Eva, being the game director and
the undisputed Caesar, clearly told the participants what
was expected of them.
The participants are assigned without regard
to size, sex, or nation of origin. The persons shown on their
skis in the pictures below include two young ladies from
Sweden, one young man, with horns, from Sweden and one
horny American who managed to sneak in without being
noticed.
The purpose of this strange looking combination of peo-
ple and skis is for all to walk as one, such as in the military,
but with even more precision, and to be able to go from
point A to point B and pick up an object and move it to
another location without falling down or offending another
member of the team.
Houses along the lake - boats are often used for travel
between houses.
The participants at the games are shown below, eager to
match their wits and skills against each other.
This was not the only game, but was the most fun and
required the greatest coordination. There were also races,
(I was much younger then), stick games similar to baseball,
but restricted because there was no diamond to play on, and
for the talented, badminton.
Badminton being played by some of the participants at
the Games. It is noted that most are younger than aver-
age.
The skis used in this
game are shown.
90
A Little Side Trip
Sometime in this whirlwind of activities, Ola, Con-
nie and I boarded a boat and headed to Helsinki, Finland.
Unfortunately, Connie was sick with her allergies (corn)
and remained in bed for part of the trip. The trip was an
overnight trip, and we had to eat on board. We went to
the restaurant and upon arrival at the door we were asked
and what language are we speaking? I answered Nihongo
(Japanese), at which he replied in Japanese Great, come in
and I will take you to your table. He did not look the least
bit surprised that we did not look Japanese.
We sat and the waiter came to the table to take our order.
In the interest of health, I decided to switch to English.
We ordered, and I believe that Connie wanted to try shark
- which was unusual considering her normal eating habits.
We ate and went to our rooms for a good nights sleep.
The next morning Ola and I went ashore, and on the
dock I saw a magnifcent display of mink hats. Going
over there I met a lady and man who were running the
store. I expressed my desires to have a mink hat, and she
started showing me around. During the selection process
I switched to Japanese and she countered with Japanese.
Then came a few Spanish requests, which she answered
correctly. We were shopping and laughing and fnally found
the hat that I wanted.
I dont remember if this is correct, but I am going to
tell you a tale of minks happily passing away. These minks
were placed in comfortable enclosures with food and water,
and enough minks were there of the proper color of coat
and attributes so as to be able to manufacture a number
of beautiful hats. They were then taken, in the still of the
night, to a location along the Russian-Finish border. They
were placed on the Russian side of the border at a location
where they could not be easily found. After a week, they
were brought back to the Finish side of the border, where
they promptly passed away, happily, from the shear joy of
being back in Finland. From that group, my hat was made.
The lady and I had agreed on a price, and I asked her
if she would accept American cash. She said No! The
value is dropping down too fast. I then asked if a Master
card credit card would be OK. She agreed. She pulled
out a card reader, saying Damn clever, these Japanese.
She then looked at me and said You are so nice that I am
going to reduce the price by 50 dollars - which her partner
disagreed with - You are giving away our money! But the
sale went through, and she gave me a big hug, and back to
the boat Ola and I went.
I wore that hat for many years, and it was magnifcent,
especially since it was made from contented minks. How-
ever, since Deana lived in Colorado, and I dont like to will
things, I gave it to Deana to enjoy while I was still alive.
Later, Connie joined Ola and me for a bus tour of sights
in Helsinki. The city was clean, had a Finish favor to
it, but the most spectacular sight was the Temppeliaukio
Kirkko (Rock Church) which was a work of modern ar-
chitecture completed in 1969. It was carved from a rocky
outcrop rising about 40 feet above street level. The ceil-
ing is made of copper wire, and the interior has some rock
surfaces visible and other more modern fnishing.
Another interesting adventure was to a giant fea market.
The great difference that one sees is the number of items
from Russia. I bought a Russian hat, some other Russian
clothing items and a Swedish one re coin formerly valued
at 1/100 of a Krona. It wasnt in circulation anymore in
Sweden, but was used in conversation meaning something
worthless. I gave it to Eva in payment for our stay in Swe-
den.
The entrance resembles the ancient tomb at Newgrange,
Ireland.
The interior is very modern with beautiful surroundings
with the copper roof overhead.
9l
The Last Time I saw Paris
The party is over and there is one more stop in the
neighborhood before going home. Paris. Eva called our
hotel in Paris and made sure that all was in order for our
arrival - in French, naturally. Good-byes were said to all
and thanks to Eva, Rolf, Ola and all the rest who made the
trip the time of our lives. A trip to the railroad station with
a yearly paid up ticket, courtesy of Rolf and Eva, with a
stamped envelope for its return to them after we reached
Stockholm. In her haste to have us catch our train, Eva
received a 500 Krona parking ticket. I offered to pay it, but
she said no. When we got to the airport, I took the tickets
and put them in the envelope and to keep them company,
slipped in a 500 Krona note for the family which showed us
so much love.
We said our good-byes at the train station and boarded
our train to Stockholm. The trip to Stockholm was very
nice, although the conductor did look at us with our pre-
paid ticket. Fortunately, he did not ask any questions. The
countryside was beautiful and our arrival was on time. We
went to the airport, checked in our bags and did a little
last minute shopping. I found a carry-on bag with a long
handle that I had to have, and still have. We bought it and
brought it with us on the plane. Then off we went to our
last city to visit in Europe, remembering the news reels and
movies that showed our boys and the French army in exile
entering a joyful Paris over ffty years ago.
We landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport, went through
customs without a problem and boarded a train to Paris.
The train was crowded and we had to stand among some
of the working class of France. They were wonderful.
Whenever we had a question as to where we were or how
do we get to the address of our hotel, someone was able to
fgure out what we needed and in some way, not necessarily
spoken, conveyed the information to us. We felt welcomed
by these, our fellow children of God. By pointing at train
signs we were told where to get off, and when we did, arms
waved goodbye to the strangers in their midst.
The hotel was where it was supposed to be and we
checked in without a problem, We placed our clothing in
the closet and got everything arranged for a few days stay.
Breakfast was in the hotel in the morning, and was very
good. We were at breakfast with persons from all over
Europe and from around the world.
At the Tourist Assistance table we purchased tickets for
a trip to Versailles for the next morning and went out on the
streets of Paris. Being hungry in France is the same as it is
elsewhere, and when Connie said Its time to feed me, I
started to look for a restaurant. We found one with outside
tables and sat down. Our waiter came over to our table and
gave us our menu. I had a six language electronic transla-
tor and determined what was on the menu. The menu was
in French and the waiter spoke no English, and he looked
a little grumpy. I told him what our order was by point-
ing at the item on the menu, and he went and after a short
while brought our order. But no bread! I asked him for
bread, but he didnt understand, so I looked up bread on the
translator, translated it into French, and let him see it on the
screen. He said Ah! and brought us the bread.
We went to a nearby tall building, which advertised an
observation foor at the top, and up we went. The pictures
that follow were taken from this observation foor.
The Bois de Boulogne was formerly used for royal
hunts, but now is the recreational playground for many Pa-
risians. The fountain with its beautiful surroundings is the
most magnifcent sight that I had ever seen. Even today,
when I have seen more computerized spectacular fountains,
this one is outstanding for its size and architectural splen-
dor.
The River Seine, as seen from the observation foor.
The density of the population of Paris is indicated by the
closeness and height of the housing units all around.
92
Leaving the building, Connie and I took to the streets of
Paris, enjoying the sights, sounds and people of this great
city. Although we did not go into the Louvre we did admire
the architecture from the outside. To me, a photograph is
as valuable as an original, and the great value placed on
the original painting is not impressive. People, for me, are
interesting and of the most value. Things, even the Mona
Lisa, come a distant second. On our walk around the city, or
parts thereof, and also on our wild taxi cab rides from one
place to another, we did enjoy the hustle and bustle of Paris.
We visited the Arch De Triumph and the Eiffel Tower,
and even stopped to go up the elevator in the Eiffel Tower.
You do get a good view from the top, and as an engineer
it was very interesting to study the structural details being
used in 1889.
After a day on the town we went back to the hotel to eat
supper and prepare for our next trip, which was to Ver-
sailles.
The next morning our tour bus came on time and we
were ushered to the rear of the bus and they must have
known we were Americans. In front of us was a Japanese
couple. After we were on the road I started a conversa-
tion with them in Japanese. Fortunately, he spoke very
The Louvre Palace and the Pyramid
The Palace of Versailles
good English. His name was Masahiro Yoshitake and he
lived in Kasima City, Chiba,.Perfecture, Japan. He seemed
to be happy to have someone else on the bus who spoke
some Japanese and who had been in Japan and cared for
the Japanese people. We had a French tour guide who
spoke French, English and Japanese. She was discussing
Franois Louis de Bourbon and talked about how royalty
would chase the girls around Versailles in the woods and
have their way with them. Masahiro asked her from what
affiction did he die. She answered, syphilis. He replied,
Justice!!!
Masahiro and I were talking to the tour guide on the bus,
giving her a few pointers on Japanese. We also undertook
the task of teaching her Kimigayo, the Japanese national
anthem. He and I sang it together much to the delight of
the other passengers. He told me that I sang with much
fervor. Well, I did put my heart into it!!
We arrived at Versailles and went from wonder to
wonder, all of which would be diffcult to describe. What
a magnifcent facility, and what a waste that this beautiful
facility was in the possession of French royalty some of
whom did not have the morals of alley cats nor concern for
their people. The French people deserved better.
I received a Christmas card from my new Japanese
friends in which he stated We (my wife and I) have a
splendid time in Paris, owing to your song of Kimigayo.
I hope to see you again in Japan. Please give my best
regards to your family. Unfortunately we never had the
opportunity to visit Japan again. There are so many tens
of thousands of persons whom I have met whom I would
enjoy seeing again. That is the greatest sorrow in life, but
maybe it will be rectifed in Gods dimension.
The next day we boarded another aircraft and few back
to Los Alamos, gaining time as we few west. It still did
not help with the jet lag.
93
The names of the persons involved in this adventure
are the actual names, in order to protect the innocent. The
persons involved are shown above; from left to right- War-
ren, Nellda, Connie and Dean. Any resemblance between
these persons and persons living in Richardson, TX and
Los Alamos, NM is not in keeping with the season.
January 22, 1997, Wednesday. This adventure started
uneventfully the afternoon of January 22, 1997. The car,
was packed, with every little space accounted for because
of the efforts of one person, Connie, who packed every-
thing that was in sight. The fact that Dean, who packed
only necessities such as his computer, his printer, books to
read, and other items, only throws more emphasis on the
space occupied by Connie who really didnt need the things
she packed.
A trip to Albuquerque without a stop would be unusual,
and stop we did. Wal-Mart and J. C. Penneys, where the
frst miracle of the trip took place. Nellda and Connie went
into Penneys, bought what they planned to buy, and came
right out, and the angels sang. Then on to the Comfort
Inn in Albuquerque where we had supper that ranged from
Belgium waffes for Dean, pancakes for Connie, soup and
salad for Nellda, to pork chops for Warren. Warren has not
been mentioned before since he is usually quiet, peaceful,
causes no trouble and stays in the background. He insisted
that he would have a real supper, a thought that we all
considered very unusual since no one else was conform-
ing. Then we went back to the car. Out came the ice chest
by Dean who wanted to put it into the motel room, then
back into the car with the ice chest when Nellda said that
Connie wanted it out in the cold. However, communica-
tions was not perfect and Warren brought the ice chest up
to his room. This was brought to the attention of Connie,
who then brought the ice chest back to the car, while Dean
rested from the long drive. The saga of the ice chest had
not yet ended though, because at about one in the morning
Dean had to go to the car and retrieve two ice packs from it
for Connie. All along Dean knew that the ice chest should
have been in their room. Thats all I want to say about that.
January 23, 1997 - Thursday. The next morning we
were under martial law- up at 4:30 AM, to breakfast at 5:30
AM, complete breakfast by 5:40 AM , arrive at the airport
at 6:00 AM, one hour before fight time. Dean parked
the car while the others checked in much baggage. When
Dean came back, he had to show his drivers license to
be sure, to them and to himself, who he was. It was early
in the morning. Just before that, Nellda was asked for her
drivers license, and then remembered that it was in her
purse in a drawer at the motel. Could she leave without a
photo ID? No, the law was clear. So a phone call back to
the motel, and then a wait for an answer. Dean went out to
be with Nellda, and called the motel on the cell phone. No,
they could not fnd the wallet. What to do? Could Nellda
be placed in a suitcase and shipped to Hawaii? No, Con-
nie had taken care of that, all suitcases were over-packed.
Another call to the motel to tell them that Nellda and War-
ren were coming back there to look- dont leave with the
wallet. A taxi was procured, miraculously, and as Warren
and Nellda were going into the motel parking lot, the motel
van was leaving. Warren leaped from the taxi and ran in
front of the van, waving arms. STOP! Sure enough the
wallet was on its way to the airport. So Nellda and her
wallet were reunited, tears fowed, and two happy people
went back to the airport. We went through security, where
Dean had to turn on his laptop computer and his cellular
phone, but caught up with the others, with no loss of time.
The same could not be said of Connies trip to the ladys
room, supposedly to fnd a quiet place to pray for the return
of Nelldas wallet. We made the fight with two minutes to
spare, before the doors closed. Thank God for our military
scheduler, Connie.
Then on to Phoenix, and on to Los Angeles where we
were confused. The airport was big, and we had to board
the Wickie-Wickie bus to go to the United Terminal. Or
was that in Hawaii? All I remember is that we could use
the Wickie-Wickie bus, or Walkie Walkie. Well visit this
one again. The hour was late, but getting earlier since we
were going west.
The plane was one hour late taking off, after a four hour
layover in LA: so much time to spare after making the
plane in Albuquerque with only two minutes to spare. The
luggage was easily stored in the DC-10s overhead com-
partment, and we settled down for a six hour fight over
the ocean. We had the show and tell safety program which
we were told we had to watch. Then the television started
with commercials and we heard that we were on our way
to Paradise. I immediately thought- we are going to crash!
But no, this was just part of the build-up which led up to
our taking the Wickie-Wickie bus to another terminal on
our way to the outermost island in Paradise.
The movie for this fight was Fly Away Home, for
which Connie and I bought headsets. If you could read lips
you could see the movie for free. Dinner came; Warren did
not want, Nellda ate one made from a dead chicken (road
kill) and Dean ordered two, obtaining two different types
so Connie could have her choice when she awoke.
WINTER IN HAWAII, 1997 Narrated by M. Dean Keller
94
However, when questioned, Connie did not want to
eat, so Dean ate both. So much for weight control. The
movie was very good, and Connie woke up about half way
through. From her normal sitting position she could see the
top six inches of the screen. But by straining and looking
around seats, she could see most of the movie.
At last we were told that we were about to land in Para-
dise. Those persons on the left side of the plane could see
a beautiful island as we few past (looked like a big rock in
the ocean) and those persons on the right side of the plane
could see thousands of miles of Pacifc Ocean. We were
on the left side of the plane so we could see the rock. The
landing was uneventful and we fnally met the Wickie-
Wickie (which means very fast) bus. Walkie-Walkie
would have been as fast, but too far for our tired little legs.
At the Aloha terminal we got off of the bus and went to
check in on the inter-island plane. Since our plane was late
from the mainland we missed the 6:00 PM plane and had
to wait for the next one. It came. Beautiful men in grass
skirts served us a strange drink on the plane and we landed
on the island of Kauai. (Perhaps, I was a little tired at this
time.)
Praise be to God, our luggage had all arrived, and it was
all covered with inspected stickers. I hope they ironed
my underwear while they were inspecting. Then came
the battle of the rental cars. I know we promised that, but
this is all you are going to get, was the battle cry of the car
barons. Much planning had gone into this trip by Warren.
He had gone to the Oldsmobile dealer in Dallas, measured
the trunk, and measured the suitcases, and determined that
if the suitcases were trim (not stuffed), that six suitcases
could theoretically be placed in the trunk. The battle went
on and on- with no give on either side. They fnally prom-
ised a smaller but newer Chevrolet (rather than an Oldsmo-
bile)- much better for us, even though our luggage would
not ft. Someone could always ride on the roof of the car.
Finally the car arrived at the gate where Nellda and Dean
were patiently waiting after gathering all of the luggage
and placing it neatly on two carts, with two bags following
behind on their leashes, like puppy dogs.
Warren and Dean loaded the luggage with much direc-
tion, instruction and criticism from the other members of
the party, except Nellda, who just sat close by and giggled.
Suit cases were placed in the trunk until the car moaned,
the excess was placed on the front seat with care. Dean,
Connie and Nellda sat in the back- where Dean held the
suitcases in place with both arms while Warren drove.
The trip to the condominium was uneventful, though
scary. It does get dark in Paradise, and the roads were
unknown. We went from road to road, not knowing where
we were. We were not lost, because we knew on which
island we had landed, maybe. Directions to the resort were
good, and fnally we waddled into the lobby and found out
that they were booked 100%, but that our reservations were
good. At this time came the ritual of emptying the suitcases
and placing clothing in closets. All went well, no wallets
were lost, and every-
thing found a place to
rest, including us.
January 24, 1997
- Friday. Warren woke
up at about 4:00 AM,
then went back to sleep.
One must remember that
it was 8:00 AM in Dal-
las. Also know that this island is the only one which still
has wild chickens and roosters. Mongooses were brought
in to the other islands to rid the islands of rats, but they rid
the island of fowl instead. Those roosters, not knowing day
from night, crowed throughout the night causing us jet lag
visitors much confusion. Warren awoke again about 6:00
AM and went to the bathroom. The door to Connie and
Deans room was open, and there was a light on in the bath-
room, so Warren thought that Connie was in the bathroom.
Connie was still sound asleep, not in the bathroom but in
her bed. Warren waited and then went down stairs into the
surrounding jungle. A little bit of Paradise will never be the
same. Soon everyone was awake and laughing about the
morning incident, except for that little bit of Paradise.
That day we had our orientation meeting and mooched
some coffee and Danish, and declined to buy a local con-
dominium. On to the local village to purchase some items
and fnd the local Salvation Army shop for local color. We
could not fnd how to get to the building, which we could
see, without going over a house or through a fence. So
we shopped. At a store where we made a few purchases,
Nellda lost her glasses but didnt notice until later. Blind
as a bat, she went with us and pretended she could see. A
trip to the information center gave us an opportunity to
obtain more information, some wrong, but all gracefully
given. Then to Wal-Mart where Connie rejuvenates herself
by shopping, spending over $100 (she was having shopping
withdrawal pains). And much to her surprise and delight
she had a Lei placed over her head, one made of beautiful
tuba roses with a lovely fragrance.
Next we visited
by boat the Fern
Grotto. We traveled
on the river Wailua,
where parts of the
movie Raiders of
the Lost Ark were
flmed, while little
girls did hula-hula
dances on our boat.
After that trip was over we went back to Wal-Mart.
Yes, Connie said, this is Paradise. We went to the Coco-
nut Coast Shop and Mall to eat a hamburger and plan our
harbor trip. At the hamburger shop, owned by Japanese
who did not speak Japanese, we learned that even the lowly
hamburger is more expensive in Paradise. Our waitress and
cook left to enjoy a little sun, leaving an older person there,
95
of Japanese
ancestry. I
called to her
in Japanese,
which she un-
derstood, and
asked her for
another cola.
She said hai,
which means
yes, and went
into the kitchen
and brought me a mop. We exchanged words and phrases,
and I fnally ended up with another cola.
While Connie was away, shopping no doubt, I told this
person in fawless Japanese that my wife has all of my
money and that I am broke. Much laughter erupted. What
I said and what she heard could have been different.
After this battle of the languages, we took our leave of
this expensive part of Paradise and went back to our condo-
minium, which we could easily fnd in the daylight. By this
time, Nellda had discovered that she had lost her glasses,
probably when she could not see the hamburger in front of
her.
January 25, 1997
- Saturday. Off to
the Spouting Horns
which was close by,
but which was not
spouting very much.
The picture on the
side came from a
postcard which was
obviously faked, since
who would expect a spouting horn to spout so high. How-
ever, Connie was still in a shopping mood.
At a local stand, she purchased a black coral ring, and
didnt care if the horn spouted or not. She paid for the ring
with a check to avoid the 3% VISA charge to the vendor,
since the price was so cheap, and asked if he had some
earrings to match. Then, on the way to our destination we
passed by Wal-Mart where Connie had to make some re-
turns. She was greeted like an old friend. The destination
was Kilohana Plantation where we had dinner, shopping, a
carriage ride and history lessons about old Hawaii. A little
sight-seeing and back to the condo where Warren and Con-
nie decided to make their frst visit to the ocean, at least up
to their ankles.
January 26,
1997 - Sunday.
Before the revi-
sions, this was
marked on our
schedule as an
easy day. We
turned left and
went on Highway 50 (sometimes in the right direction,
sometimes not) to 55 to Kokee State Park at 4000 feet
elevation. The clouds were low that day and we couldnt
see much. I did call Steve on the cell phone and got right
through.
At the park there
was food, rest rooms,
and numerous chick-
ens, the type that wake
you up in the morning.
I obtained some chick-
en food from inside
the lodge and starting
feeding them. They all
came over, close enough to reach out and grab them, but I
didnt. They were pretty birds, just too loud. Besides they
were protected.
On the way
down we passed
numerous places
where the clouds
had broken and
pictures could be
taken of the 3000
foot canyons.
They were beauti-
ful. It was time
to meet the boat,
to be there by 2:30
PM. Not sure of
the location of the
offce, we used
our superb navi-
gational skills to
determine which
road to take to
the shore. (Nellda
helped.) We left
the mountain road
and drove right into the boat offce yard, where no one was
present. So down the road where we ate our lunch, (War-
ren had no gravy on his meatloaf sandwich) then back to
the boat offce where persons materialized. Arrangements
were taken care of and we found that there would be ten
persons on a boat that usually holds twenty-fve or more.
On the boat and into the Pacifc- like a fghter plane. 280
horsepower twin engines were doing their job. On the
boat were us four, three Brits, three young girls, a Hawai-
ian captain and a
helper. We headed
towards Forbidden
Island, where only
the original natives
are allowed to live
or visit. We had to
stay off shore from
that area.
96
First we saw
dolphins, and the
captain stated that
this trip was guar-
anteed to produce
dolphins. Whales?
He would read the
charter and fnd
out later. Then we
saw whales, and
found out from the captain that Yes, he would guarantee
whales. He could not approach the whales, so he would
head in the direction that they were going, cut his engine,
and wait. The whales were allowed to approach us. We
saw some whale heads and some whale tails, and quite a
few playful dolphins.
I had a nice conversation with the Brits, who really
loved the Queen, and Di, but were happy that Fergie was
spending so much time in the Colonies. I said it wasnt fair
for us to take her from them, that we should give something
in return. Fair, they said. I asked if Madonna would be ac-
ceptable, and they agreed. Then I offered Michael Jackson,
with no takers. Nellda had used an expression, Get a
Rock. meaning that I should have some help with under-
water exploration. After one of my jokes, one of the Brits
said get a rock. They were leaning over the side of the
boat, on the starboard side, when a dolphin came up, face to
face, to have a chat with them. Jolly good, dont you think?
We had a nice snack on board, went past Barking Sands
Beach, which we had intended to visit, then proceeded back
to Waimea port, after a most enjoyable trip. Hot wet towels
were furnished to refresh our faces and hands.
January 27, 1997 - Monday. This was the day for fnd-
ing. In the village near our Condo (Poipu), we found out
how to make our way into the Salvation Army Shop, where
we found nothing that we wanted to purchase. Back to the
store that we went to a few days before, and sure enough,
Connie found Nell-
das glasses, and she
could see again. She
asked Who are you
people? (Only kid-
ding). As the next
part of our ritual, we
had to go to Wal-Mart
to obtain batteries for
the camera.
We went to visit
the waterfalls which
were beautiful. Near
there was a recon-
structed Hawaiian
village, and what else
did we fnd there but
the Brits, and a parrot.
Naturally we could
not let this opportuni-
ty pass, so we had a good time laughing with the Brits. (Get
a rock.) We all posed for a photo together, with a parrot on
top of the Brits head. Seemed sort of natural. Then off
we went in our separate ways, them back to home and us to
explore more of the island.
On the way
to our destina-
tion (Princeville
and Hanalei Bay),
we stopped at the
Kilauea Light-
house, which was
built in 1913. It is
now a US Fishing and Wildlife Refuge. Some spectacular
views were seen from here. A long ride along the beach
fnally brought us to Lumahai Beach where we went into
the water with our shorts, not our swimming trunks on. It
was delightful. This area was made famous for the flm-
ing of South Pacifc and Jurassic Park. We stopped to shop
in Princeville, where the smoothie did not meet Connies
allergy requirements, but a hot fudge sundae did meet my
needs. After a drive around the Princeville Hotel, we head-
ed on the long trip home.
January 28, 1997 -
Tuesday. Shopping at Hilo
Hatti for Connie, Nellda and
Warren, while Dean goofed
off at the Condo, and tried to
type some about the previous
days. A seal was lying on
the beach, and we looked at
and took pictures of the little fellow (about a ton), but could
not touch as it was protected. The surf was high, and winds
were blowing, so we went back to Spouting Horns, where
the horns were spouting. The sales persons were also sell-
ing, and Connie went back to inquire about her black coral
earrings. Don, who sold Connie her black coral ring, was
there with the earrings. Connie loved them, and they were
hers. But Don refused any money, but kissed Connie on the
cheek instead. We hadnt eaten that morning so we went to
Brenneckes for brunch. Brunch was good, and we ex-
plored the local neighborhood, which included many luxu-
rious beach houses. We stopped at the beach and watched
the swimmers and surfers who were having a ball. Back to
the condo where we packed most of our bags for the airline
fight in the morning. Connie wanted a Taco Bell, so we
rode and rode and rode, 22 miles, to go to a Taco Bell for
a late snack. Connie thought it was just around the corner.
After this, with the wind still blowing, we went back to the
condo where the wind and spray was washing the inside of
the rooms, even blowing in the screen. But it was cool, and
we slept well.

January 29, 1997 - Wednesday. The sun rose early
this morning, but not as early as we did. We had to catch a
plane to go to the big island. Actually, if the sun did rise,
we didnt know for we were experiencing 60 mph winds
97
and rain as a cold front from Alaska hit the western most
islands. Little did we know that we would meet this front
again when we were on the eastern most island. The trip
to the airport was uneventful, the baggage check-in was
uneventful, the plane ride was uneventful, the landing was
uneventful; little did I know that this was going to be the
longest day. I did speak to some Koreans, whom I thought
were Japanese, so they gently corrected me. When I told
them that I was in the Korean war back in 1951/52- in com-
bat, they all gave me a thumbs up! I do not believe that this
was the oriental version of the one fnger salute that some
persons, heaven forbid, use.
Finally an event happened. Warren went to obtain a car
by himself, Connie being shocked that he thought that he
could accomplish this feat without her assistance. Warren
was waiting in one line when a lady, Miss Congeniality
of 1845, beckoned to him to come to her Alamo Express
Line. We had reservations in both our names so that we
could choose which would have the best discount. War-
ren went into the express line, noting that there were no
other persons waiting. He obtained the information on his
reservation, and then asked some questions. She stated,
emphatically, that she did not have time to answer all of
these questions, this was the express line! He then asked
her about the Keller reservation, but in compliance with the
privacy act stated that a Keller would have to obtain infor-
mation on this, and he was not authorized to obtain same.
This lovely lady then offered him upgrades, one for
twelve dollars a day for an equivalent auto or thirty dollars
a day increase for a mini-van. Warren gracefully refused,
stating that we would suffer through with the car provided.
All of our luggage
arrived and the packing
of the car was unevent-
ful. As usual the car
was packed! Next
came the trip to the
County Goose, which
was uneventful. At
the County Goose we
met Mother Goose, who was Earley. Actually she was Joan
Earley (on the right). She gave us very good instructions
to go to our residence for the next two days, a lovely home
off of Golf Course Road. It should be noted that this was
on the fault side of the sign which said Fault Zone, Watch
for Cracks in Highway. It was well equipped with three
bathrooms, two bedrooms, a
Jacuzzi, a garage door opener
and an alarm system. It was
also equipped with faucets
which turned in for out and
out for in, and hot for cold,
and cold for hot. Naturally
this home had a name. The
name of this beautiful home
in the fault zone was Ahuanani Lodge. We parked in the
garage and opened the door for Connie, leaving Nellda and
Warren locked in the garage.
As I walked past the garage
door, I heard a slight knock
(Warren is so quiet), and
opened the door and allowed
them to come into our house.
A little rest was needed before
we ventured out into this vol-
canic world, and rest we did.
Finally the hour arrived and we bravely went to the car
to go face the volcano, remembering Joe and the Volcano
and how sometimes the natives would sacrifce a tourist to
make it rain, or to make it stop raining, one of the two. We
went to the Hawaii Volcano National Park where a friendly
and funny Park Ranger told us about the volcano and had
two movies for our entertainment and edifcation. There
were gift shops in the area, and as I was looking thru some
postcards. Connie said that she was going to the gift shop
next door. After buying some post cards I went looking,
and looking, and looking. She was not in the art exhibit/
gift shop nearby, so I walked over to the Volcano House
which also had a gift shop.
There I fnally found the rest of our party and a beautiful
overview of the volcano caldera, about fve miles in diam-
eter. Although I knew that the Valle Grande at home (New
Mexico) was twenty-two miles in diameter, I did not bring
this to the attention of these poor people there who thought
that this caldera was
big. It was a lot hotter
than the one at home, but
somewhat the same as
far as steam, basalt, etc.
The time came to
hit the road again, and
on we went to fnd the
location where the lava
hit the water, thereby adding to the size of Hawaii. Natu-
rally the state claimed all of this new land, although they
did nothing to make it happen. We went through an old
lava tube, called Thurstons lava tube, to see what kind of
channel the volcano liked to make. When we got out of
the tube, we found that the rain we had left at Kauai had
caught up with us. We made the twenty minute tour in nine
minutes fat. Now to the thrill of the day, where the lava
hit the water. Twenty miles we went, down from 4000 feet
elevation to sea level, through clouds and rain, past lava
fows and craters, Warren carefully following the direction
signs, 1 mile, 2 miles, 3 miles, etc., until we came to 20
miles and a long string of cars.
We let the ladies out and parked
our car 40 cars back up the road.
Then we walked on the blacktop
to the lava, over the lava to the
rope which said Abandon all
hope ye who pass this barrier,
and stopped.
98
The lava reminded me
of my back yard, except
we do not have the Pacifc
Ocean there, only the Rio
Grande River, 800 feet
down. Two kilometers
away there was a large
steam plume where the
lava hit the water. Some-
times it would look like a
mushroom and I would think fondly of Los Alamos and the
atomic bomb. As night came, the red lava which was being
ejected from Puu Oo, could be seen as it went from land
to water to form more land for the state of Hawaii. It was
impressive, and the Oooos and Aaaahs resounded from the
population gathered there. Naturally we forgot our 7-12
power binoculars, so I went back to the car and brought
them back so that we could see the lava a little closer.
They did enhance the view of the lava as it spurted into the
ocean. Little did we know that we were watching the last
of this craters eruption.
Some information obtained from the Ranger was that
these were not explosive volcanos, but rather gentle in their
nature, that they could have been caused by a meteor hit-
ting the ocean many years ago, causing a hot spot like Yel-
lowstone National Park, and that this volcano did not, like
most volcanos, have a mother lode of gold, silver, etc. It
was composed of mundane material such as less than 50%
silica, iron, bauxite, etc. It didnt matter, since the state of
Hawaii would have claimed the mineral rights anyway.
Then came the rains, slowly at frst like a mist, then like
a drizzle, then like a torrent with only three ponchos for
the four of us. Naturally, having wash and wear skin, I let
Connie have my poncho.
Connie and I went back to the car frst with Connie
hanging on to my arm. I had no problem with the basalt
since it was like walking in my back yard. We got to the
car where I removed my shirt and undershirt, both of which
were soaked, turned the car around and went back to pick
up Warren and Nellda. We saw them back about thirty
cars, and offered them a ride. They accepted. I started the
car again, then stopped when I found that Nellda was only
half in the car. At the turn around, I turned over the driv-
ing to Warren, and sat back to dry out. Twenty miles back
we went, looking for a place to eat. Warren had seen a
nice restaurant a while back, and had not lost his Hiawatha
feather. He found the restaurant, and we went in- me in
a tee shirt that Connie had bought for
Steve. They were booked, so we had
to leave, although I believe we would
have added a little class to the place.
We then went to a little sandwich shop,
appropriately named the Steam Vent,
which Connie had noted, and flled our
intestinal tanks. Any food would have
been good at that time. Then back to the
house, and the end of the longest day.
January 30, 1997 - Thursday. The trip continues. Back
to Hawaii Volcanos National Park to pick up some videos,
a CD ROM, more postcards, and miscellaneous items. The
area was tense. Puu Oo had closed down and collapsed
within itself and the lava fow to the ocean was no longer
taking place. Hawaii was not getting bigger, and future
land had already been sold for occupancy 10000 years from
now. We had seen the last of an event that had been going
on for many years, and perhaps it was our thoughts that had
stopped it. After all, in October 1987, didnt a hurricane
go through London, the worst in a century, after we had
left that morning? The Chain of Craters road was closed.
Another crater, Napau, opened accompanied by swarms of
earthquakes, and vented a series of fountains of fame and
molten rock into the air. Two campers had to be rescued
by helicopter, and we were still living in the live fault area.
We made our purchases and went to a gift shop/museum
where we saw videos of volcanos past, and the research of
geologist at this USGS Station. We listened as updates to
the condition of the volcano were broadcast.
After making our purchases and viewing the informa-
tion at the station, we went to see Mother Goose. There
we heard that there would be green chile in the breakfast
and three breakfast reservations were made, Nellda was not
eating breakfast, even for chile. We also learned from Joan
that a new Wal-Mart had opened in Hilo, and plans for the
day were forever changed. Connie was now in Heaven as
well as in Paradise. Wherever we go we can fnd McDon-
alds and Wal-Mart.
From there we went to see the Lava Tree Monument.
There the lava had enveloped the trees, with the moisture
in the trees cooling the lava to allow a void to be where the
tree used to be. So we didnt have the trees, but had plenty
of voids where trees could be placed with lava all around
them.
Then a trip to the old lighthouse by the sea, where the
lava had gone around the lighthouse, leaving the lighthouse
standing. We traveled along an unpaved road for many
miles, looking for this old lighthouse. When we got to the
end of the road, which had basalt about six feet high on
both sides of the road, we looked, but could not see an old
lighthouse. We did fnd a couple of freezers on the basalt.
Instead there was a new lighthouse built on a concrete
foundation. Checking the map again and again, we were
assured of the location and decided that the map was out of
date.
Back to the paved
roads and to the Ocean
where we located a black
sand beach with swim-
mers, surfers, and boat-
ers. There we stopped
to consume some of the
produce that we had
bought at a road side
stand. We then went to
Hilo, a historic old town
99
with a large shopping
mall, and the new
Wal-Mart, which just
opened yesterday.
In a store in a mall
nearby, Connie used
my age to increase an
already nice discount
of 30% to 40% on a
Hawaiian dress, she
being too young to
get the big discount.
Then to more shops
and fnally to Wal-Mart where the price and quantity of
merchandise brought more oooos and ahaas than the lava
hitting the sea. The local population had never seen such
prices. After Wal-Mart we bravely ventured into the fault
zone to Ahuanani Lodge for a New Orleans red beans style
dinner prepared by Nellda, and then to sleep.
January 31, 1997 - Friday. We started the morning
by going early to have breakfast prepared by Joan Earley.
This was instituted by Connie who had the brilliant idea of
dropping in before our appointed time, since we were all
dressed. Connie went in stating that she would absorb the
fury in case we were not welcome.
We were welcome, so one big good mark for Connie.
The breakfast was excellent, and we shared company with
persons from Alaska, Michigan, and Florida ( I asked what
are you doing here?) A family came in from California,
obviously to escape the foods by going to the volcano.
The volcano, by the way, was not putting on much of a
show and Hawaii was no longer growing. Back to Ahua-
nani Lodge where we packed and went to the airport. The
car was stuffed, as usual, and another uneventful fight,
this time to Honolulu. The car was obtained, the luggage
packed and off we went to Turtle Bay, on the north end of
Oahu. Along the way, about half way, we stopped in at
Doles place, the pineapple, not the politician. So Bob and
Elizabeth were not there to meet us, but there was a greeter
and all kinds of food made from pineapple. We partook
of the food and then went on to our new home for the next
three days. The condo was found after a little search, and
we moved in. Dinner at Waimea Falls Park, Peacock ap-
propriately named after the Peacocks and Peahens which
surrounded the restaurant.
I had a seafood dinner which had funny little things in it.
I put them on the side of the plate, and noted that they had
many legs. I could not bring myself to eat the little crea-
tures. Nellda remembered that Spencer Tracy (of long-long
ago) had once said Ugly little squid, ugly little squid, I bet
your mother thinks youre a pretty little kid.
Back to Turtle Bay where we prepared for the next day
by much planning. It was then that Warren, who loses a hat
on each trip, noticed that his blue Hawaii cap was missing
in action.
It was decided that Saturday was a good day to visit
Pearl Harbor, and pay our respects at the Arizona.
February 1, 1997 - Saturday. In the newspaper was
the statement that the volcano had stopped spurting and
now appeared to be quiet. Perhaps the tectonic plate has
moved enough to where the island of Hawaii is no longer
over a hot spot. If so, there will be little volcanic activ-
ity until the next island, which is still much below water,
breaks through the surface.
The trip to Pearl Harbor was pleasant, and well marked.
After going around the parking lot about eight times, we
found a parking place, which Connie jumped out of the car
and defended with
her body. Inside
we were issued
tickets, #12, which
designated the tour
group that we were
in. A book store
was available, and
Pearl Harbor survi-
vors gave an accurate bomb by bomb account of the attack.
One speakers voice broke from emotion, and others in the
audience had tears in their eyes, including a Japanese man
who was there. For all of us, we remembered the young
lives, on both sides, which were ended by the mistake of
war. A movie was presented for our group stating the rea-
sons for the attack, why the feet was in harbor, etc, based
upon American and Japanese archives.
A boat then took us to the
Arizona Monument which
straddles the sunken ship,
the tomb for over a thousand
men. It is a very appropriate
memorial, and causes us to
remember that the mistakes
of a few can cause pain for many.
We made a few stops at
Waimea Falls Park to seek
Warrens lost cap. Would
this trip follow the example
of so many other trips where
a cap had to be sacrifced for
the trip? No. Later on in the day the cap was found at our
condo behind a suitcase in the clothes closet.
February 2, 1997 - Sunday. A leisurely morning fol-
lowed by a trip to the Pacifc Ocean on the north side of
Oahu. Warren and Dean went into the water. Connie put
her bathing suit on and walked along the beach and Nellda
watched. The water was cold. I was walking in knee deep
water and stated Its too cold, Im not going in. Then an
under current grabbed my feet and I found myself in the
water, all the way. Since I was in, I decided to do a little
swimming. It was necessary to wear rubber clogs since the
coral on the bottom was sharp. I swam around for a while,
enjoyed the surf and tasted the salt water.
l00
The water was clear, but still cold. After a while War-
ren and I decided to get out, and then came the diffcult
chore, removing the sand from our shoes and feet. It really
stuck. So back to the house to shower and prepare for the
next event of the day, a trip to the Polynesian Village for
an afternoon of fun. All plans were made and we traveled
the short distance to the village to fnd that it was closed
on Sundays. Gotta read the small print. What else to do?
To Honolulu for some shopping and a show. We fnally
decided on two shows at the IMAX, one on Whales, the
other on Volcanos. Since we had turned off the volcano on
Hawaii we thought we should fnd out what we had turned
off. Both were very good, and put them together you get
broiled whales. After a meal at Chilis, we went back to the
house.
February 3, 1997- Monday, The last day. Packing
took place early in the morning, and was accomplished
within established parameters. Then off to the Polyne-
sian Village which was open that day. We were early this
morning but a book store and a beach allowed us to use that
time usefully. Then back to the village where we checked
the three bags from the front of the car. Off to the Islands
of Samoa where persons in native costume told us of
their home islands. These persons were all students at the
nearby Brigham Young University of Hawaii.
The person speaking for Samoa was an equal opportu-
nity comedian. He picked on everyone, in a very funny
but beautiful way, and especially the Japanese. His na-
tive words were translated into English, Japanese, Spanish
and Korean, usually in a way to make the Japanese sound
wimpish. He brought persons up on the stage, always la-
dies, and proceeded to put on a show. He always ended by
being kissed on both cheeks, then on the hand.
This was simple for the Spanish who often did this, but
not for the Japanese who did not show public affection.
He was great at opening a coconut, and invited ladies to
partake of the juice, telling one that now she would become
brown like he was.
We also had a comical
demonstration of how
to climb a tree to eat
a coconut, which was
then, after sampling,
thrown to the ground
splashing all over the
area. No one was hit.
Next to the Islands of New Zealand where a native with
a soft voice spoke of history and introduced songs and
dances by some very talented persons. His history indi-
cated that persons in the islands came from many places,
including South and Central America. Then to Fiji where
we assisted the singer and dancers by providing the rhythm
using hollow bamboo sticks, sealed on one end, which were
pounded on the foor. We were pretty good. The Islands
of Marquesas was next, where we sat along the side of a
rectangular green area. Here we watched some spectacular
dancing by both men and women. We four were invited to
participate, but declined for fear of embarrassing them with
our unique and unusual styles of dancing. (Does this mean
that the girls were chicken?)
The Canoe Pageant brought out our cameras for some
beautiful canoe dancing and spectacular costumes. One
violent person portrayed was our comical friend from Sa-
moa who threw another Islander into the water. Naturally
he did it with grace. Each canoe or group of canoes told a
story of Hawaii, Fiji, Samoa, New Zealand, Tonga or Tahiti
which which was quite a show.
After the Canoe Pageant we went to Tonga where a soft
spoken lady told of song and dance of her island. Here we
also saw a blue eyed beauty that we had seen at Marquesas.
She must have been from both islands, and she could really
dance. She was a freshman at BYU and the young man
who danced with her was studying Computer Science there.
We had to leave early to make the next showing of the
Polynesian Odyssey at the IMAX Polynesia Theater. It
too was impressive, and as we left the call to go the airport
started ringing in our ears, but not before a boat ride. We
took a boat ride with another comedian who stated that he
was both a college freshman and a teenager, so he knew
everything.
At the end of the boat ride, we wanted to ride back by
boat so as not to walk, but the next boat was for Japanese
tourists only. I told them Daijobu, watashi wa Nihongin
desu, which means I assure you, I am Japanese. This
brought a laugh and smiles from the Japanese, but no boat
ticket. So we spoke to our Asian friends in English and
Japanese and then said sayonara instead of aloha as we left
on an earlier boat along with our smart teenager.
l0l
Then to the baggage, and to the car, and on the high-
way, with Connie wanting to stop here and there to take
a picture. We were in search of the Flamingo Restaurant
along the road, but we never found it. We took the short
cut back to Honolulu, and promptly got lost. Around and
around we went, with Warren receiving directions from
many, all wrong. We got lost right in front of a nice look-
ing restaurant, so we stopped to eat. After a very nice
meal with beautiful people, we were told how to get to the
airport and assured that we would not have any problems.
How wrong they were. Around and around we went again,
this time in Honolulu, in army bases, in warehouse districts,
up dead ends streets to fnally stop at a service station to
ask for help. The gentleman there gave us very good and
explicit directions and told us that we could not miss it.
We cringed, but went on our way. A sign- AIRPORT- and
we followed from sign to sign until we were there! Nellda
and I took care of baggage while Connie went with Warren
to assure that he found his way to the Avis car return. We
ended up at the plane with only minutes to spare.
And so to sleep, or twist and turn as Nellda kept get-
ting hit by a young boy from behind, until the coast of
California could be seen and we glided smoothly into the
airport. A rush to America West where we found that we
could leave on an earlier fight if we hurried- the fight was
loading now. The young lady did a fast and masterful job
of sorting, writing, communicating with us and the baggage
personnel, and away we went, catching the 6:00 AM fight
to Phoenix, with no assurance on the baggage. We went on
to Albuquerque, with all baggage arriving on time; to din-
ner at the Village Inn (not Polynesian) and then on to Los
Alamos in our spacious but still very flled Lincoln Town
Car.
ALOHA!
l02
We had one beginning from mothers womb,
We arrived as a gift from God.
There were many forks in the road of life
As along this road we trod.
At each fork we had to decide,
The path that we would follow.
Some paths were flled with joy and love,
Other paths were painful or hollow.
These paths together are our life,
Was it barren or full?
What circumstance at each fork in the road,
To the left or to the right did pull.
These paths came together for us
Half a century in the past
When we graduated from Jefferson
With memories that would last.
Fifty years ago we parted
And went our separate ways.
Half a century has come and gone
From graduation day.
Our grandchildren are now in school,
At work, and climbing the ladder of life.
Living through the struggle, the love, the joy
And the pain, of blessings and strife.
Fifty years ago, can you remember
Professors Fairchild and Dutreix,
Miss Hayes who taught us math,
Ms Schneckenburger, who led the way,
In teaching us English-
I hope she doesnt read this prose,
With all the mistakes that are here,
I might be beaten with a rubber hose.
We all went our separate ways,
How many ways can there be?
Combat in Korea with the Air Force,
That was the path for me.
Then off to college, as did some,
Some worked in places for others,
Some became self employed,
Many became fathers or mothers.
We were woven into the fabric of
This nation, made of United States.
We did our share in our own way,
to keep this nation great.
There wasnt a failure in the class,
Not one person fell short.
We all carried our share of the load,
All were strong of heart.
We all had our share of joy,
We had our share of grief.
We cried our tears of regret,
And laughed our laughter of relief.
Not one person had a perfect life,
But all did what they could do
to keep heads up under strife,
to keep their compass heading true.
So after ffty years we meet again
to discuss the days gone by.
To laugh and talk and make some jokes,
(I hope no one will cry)
About falling hair and gaining weight,
And glasses with which to read.
All those things that come with age,
but there is one thing we need.
We need to remember, we are the same,
Though wiser than we were before.
Our bodies change, our hearts grow mellow,
And fnally we know the score.
We are closer now to each other,
And to our God who loves us all.
In His embrace weve lived our lives,
And He has never let us fall.
M. Dean Keller, Class of 1948
Jefferson High School, LA
Jefferson High School, Class of 1948
Fifty year reunion
Dean, reciting the poem with Frank
Simone, Class president, on left
& Ms. Schneckenburger, English
teacher on right.
Ms. Schneckenburger & me.
1948
1998
This was a big event for the
class. Frank Simone, our
class president, presided
over the introductions. I
was surprised that Con-
nie and I were seated at
the head table, next to Ms.
Schneckenburger. I was
requested to read my poem
after I gave copies out to
my classmates. Of course
this was only after Ms. Sch-
neckenburger had approved
it. It went over well.
With respect to the next
page and the rest of my life,
everything appeared to be
excellent on this occasion.
Was this the calm before
the storm? Or just bipolar
with its ups and downs.
However, there were storms
before, during which she
left and stayed away for
days, only, after, wanting to
come back. How much can
a loving husband take with-
out a breakdown? I did!
l03
Geese are in the sky
Flying south, they circle
Round our house, noisily,
Dropping lower thence to land,
To rest, by the Rio Grande, their sanctuary.
Leaves have fallen from the trees
The ground is covered everywhere
The breeze that blows is cooler now
As from the mountains height it falls
Four thousand feet through warmer air
To chill, and remind us all
That winters spell is everywhere.
Is summer gone?
Is autumn here to pave the way
For winter to claim its throne, to shorten day
To color earth with snow so white,
To strip the trees of all their leaves
And send some creatures off
To slumber through the day and night?
What happens to life, to love, to friendship
When winter comes
And the ferce bear no longer growls,
But lies content in his sleep?
Do we act the same
When our freplace is lit
And we lie down and watch the fame?
Does love change with the chilling breeze
And lie dormant till spring again
Awakens emotions deep
Allowing feelings to rise from sleep?
Friendship and love are the same,
Different sides of a single coin.
They make our lives on earth complete,
Make our souls and spirits join.
From the Creator of us all
We learn that, though the cold of winter
Will still the bear, drop the leaves
And chill the earth with its breeze.
Faith, Hope, and Love remain!
Winter can not dim their might.
This love we share with friends and God,
Protects us all, makes all things right. M. Dean Keller
November, 1997
Winter Comes
Is this the appropriate location for this poem? Chronologically it is, emotionally it is and physically it is. This was
written after the trip to Hawaii which was very interesting, the 50th year school graduation with which she helped me
and was very happy during the occasion, the appearance of a happy marriage; then came a whole new life for Dean. The
title is also appropriate, for a Winter of pain, a nervous breakdown, serious sickness, and the loss of all for what he had
worked for fve decades, including a now dead marriage was thrust upon him. But after winter comes spring, then a sum-
mer of joy and gladness. This is documented following this poem, and his life after he was able to enjoy his gifts from his
Creator which abounded in Peace, Love and Joy.
l04
Maria
On December 7, 1998, six days after the death of my
sister-in-law, Pat, in Slidell, LA, and fve days after I
underwent a back operation, I had a nervous breakdown. I
had taken a pistol and went into the back yard stating that
I couldnt take the pain caused by my wife - the abuse, the
hate-love cycles, anymore. Although I calmed down after
the cool air enveloped my body, two shots were heard by
Connie in the house and the police were called. So, upon
going back into the house, pistol still in hand, I found that
I was the object of numerous police in their police cars just
down the street trying to fgure out how to get me to give
up my gun and not kill myself. My grandson Jacob was in
the house with me, and wasnt the least bit concerned that I
would hurt myself, and absolutely certain that I would nev-
er hurt anyone else. So, when he went out of the house,
and he went in and out a few times, the police locked him
in the back of a police car so that he would not be hurt.
Finally, a very nice policeman named Ross came into the
house after I told them I had no intention of hurting anyone,
and sat down with me in my study. He asked me if I would
put the pistol away, and I unloaded the pistol, and put it in
a drawer, and asked him if that was more comfortable. He
didnt try any strong arm tactics, but talked, trying to deter-
mine why I had made such a rash decision. I agreed to go to
the hospital where psychologists could determine if it were
safe to leave me alone. There was great relief among the
Los Alamos police, many of whom knew me from more fa-
vorable circumstances. Their conduct was excellent. They
felt pride in a job well done.
We went to the hospital, and they asked if there was
anyone that I would like to contact who understood the
situation and with whom I could talk. I named my priest,
Father Colen Kelly, and a psychologist that I was see-
ing about domestic problems, Dr. Santistevan. Naturally,
neither of them could be contacted. Fr. Kelly did show up
at the hospital, after we had left. No one was willing to
assure that I would not harm myself, so I was transported to
the Pinon Hills Hospital in Santa Fe, NM. On the way in, I
asked the police sergeant who was driving what should I
do with the 38 snub nose that I have in my sock? He said
Dean, I hope you are kidding! I replied yes and the
trip was uneventful. However, it was uncomfortable since I
had just had a back operation a few days ago, and the seats
had hard plastic moulding instead of soft padding. Every
person with the Los Alamos police department was cau-
tious, but very kind in trying to help me get over an obvi-
ous nervous breakdown.
I was checked in, checked for sharps and assigned
a room with a young man. It was very late at night. He
immediately tried to impress me with his vicious nature
and the bad things that he had done. I just said, Oh thats
nice, or something like that, and he became quite like-
able. The next day after breakfast we had a group session
with Bryan Stuppy, who was a counselor and a recovered
alcoholic, one day at a time by the Grace of God. I partici-
pated, and thanked my roommate for helping me to under-
stand what was expected of me in this facility. Between
private and group sessions we had free time during which
we were free to walk around and talk, but not leave this
locked facility.
While walking up and down the hall, I met a young lady
named Maria. Oh, I said, your name is the same as
my daughter-in-law, Mary. No! She replied, Maria.
Maria was a school teacher, who could be classifed as
Hispanic, attractive, and somewhat at odds with gringos.
She had volunteered to come to Pinyon Hills Hospital to
obtain help for an addiction to crack cocaine.
I said something like OK Maria, lets get some exer-
cise. Will you walk with me? She agreed, and we started
walking down the hall at a reasonably brisk pace, with my
sometimes counting cadence, remembering my glory days
in the Air Force about ffty years ago. What is going to be
narrated next is what I remember, and what I had written
down in emails to friends within a few days. What I learned
later was happening on a different level. We walked and
talked, and then she was called by a nurse to have her vital
signs checked, as they love to do in all hospitals. I went
with her to this location, not a room, just a place where
a chair was located, and she sat down. The nurse started
taking her blood pressure. Not knowing why, I placed my
hand on her shoulder and softly prayed in tongues, while
her vital signs were being checked. She did not object to
this gringo placing a hand on her shoulder. After vital
signs were taken, we continued our walking and talking. I
dont remember what we talked about. Nothing and every-
thing. But we were having a good time just walking and
talking.
During the next day, we had more group and private
sessions, mine with Bryan Stuppy and a psychiatrist or
psychologist, I dont remember which, and I went from a
state of anger to resentment, to depression to frustration,
all of which I discussed with my counselors. They were
a great help in telling me that all of that is behind me and
the future can still be great. Bryan gave me his card, and
I promised to send him a tape by Fr. Brennan Manning
and a copy of my poem My Lord, My God, My All, and
an essay on friends. After a few sessions, on December
9, the powers that be stated that it was safe for me to go
home. I saw Maria again and told her that I would send her
a copy of the poem mentioned above. That same morning,
the RN who admitted me was completing her time on the
night shift when she learned that I was going home. When
she learned that I was leaving, she came over, hugged me
and said I love you, Dean. When I frst arrived she said
that she was going to take my vital signs. I told her, Well,
if you do, you are going to have to give them back to me
after you are through with them. Maybe that endeared me
to her. I told Dr . Santistevan that the staff did not want me
to leave, and he thought it was because they believed that
I still was in depression. No. The staff did not want me to
leave because Christ in me was providing a light and some
laughter in their facility. Jacob came by, picked me up, and
brought the old man home.
l05
I went back to an empty house, with no guns since they
had taken up temporary residence in the police department
vault until I was ready to reclaim them. I saw Dr. Linnebur,
my physician, on December 10, and Dr. Santistevan on the
same day. That day I also fulflled my promise to Maria
and sent her a letter which included an essay What is a
Friend and a copy of My Lord, My God, My All. I did
not know at that time that Maria got in trouble at Pinyon
Hills Hospital because of something someone else had
done. She would not snitch on the guilty person, so she
was discharged from the hospital, still in bad shape, but
not before she received my letter and poetry. On Decem-
ber 15, I wrote another letter to Maria asking if she had
received my frst letter, said a few words, and enclosed a
poem which I had written for her entitled When You See
the Light.
On December 15, a police offcer who spoke to me on
the phone during the height of the event, Cpl. Racci De-
luci, dropped by and had a long discussion with me. She
talked about her experience with post anesthesia patients,
and had much encouragement for me. I thanked her for her
participation, and before I left Los Alamos, I gave her my
Colt Gold Cup 45 Caliber pistol.

On December 18, I received an unexpected phone call -
from Maria. She was bubbling over and her children insist-
ed that she call me and tell me what happened. First of all,
she told me that when she was having her blood pressure
tested and I had my hand on her shoulder, she looked up,
but didnt see me. She saw Jesus. Also, she said that she
felt something when I had prayed for her. I felt nothing,
saw nothing unusual, but was just privileged to be there.
She also told me that she received
my frst letter with the poem and
essay before being discharged. She
was picked up by family to go home
to Las Vegas, NM, and on the way
home she read the poem My Lord,
My God, My All over and over
again, with tears fowing from her
eyes. She also mentioned that she
liked the picture of the cute white
boy at the top. That was me in my
Air Force glory outft. Then came
the big moment - Maria stated that
she was free from addiction to crack
cocaine, and doesnt hate gringos
anymore. Two miracles for the price
of one. The price? Love. I called
my daughter-in-law Mary in Tulsa,
and asked Maria to tell her what
she had just told me. It was almost
word-for-word, as she spoke to her
Tocaya, a person who shares the
same name.
On December 28, I drove to Las Vegas, NM to visit Ma-
ria and her family. I was warmly received by all. I have a
picture of Maria and her daughter Donna taken on that day.
Maria told me that some of her crack friends were afraid
of her, and when they saw her coming, they would scurry
away. When the Light enters a persons life, those living
in darkness develop a fear. She asked me many questions,
some of which I could answer, some I couldnt. But God
is the healer, not me. And Maria now has a direct commu-
nication with Him which has to develop. I was just privi-
leged to be an instrument of Gods Love, and had to move
out of the picture. Before we parted, Maria gave me a book
Spanish Made Simple. which I still have, and told me to
learn! I only wish that I could learn to speak all languages
so that I could communicate with all persons about the
Love of God. But with my limited intellect, I guess I will
have to use only English, Agape, and Tongues.
The day after I came back to Los Alamos from Las
Vegas, I decided to drive to Tulsa to spend some time with
Steves family. Just outside of Santa Fe the transmission
on my Lincoln Continental shattered. About the same time
I received a letter dated December 27 from Bryan Stuppy
thanking me for the tape by Fr. Manning and the poems
and essays. He stated I also believe you have facilitated a
message to me from Christ since my journey to Christ has
taken many years and its foundation has been my journey
with the 12 Steps.
Letters, e-mails, and other information written days
after the above events took place are attached. They were a
great help in refreshing my memory. Praise be to God.
Donna and Maria, December 28, 1998
l06
M. Dean Keller
533 Rover Blvd.
Los Alamos, NM 87544
December 10, 1998
Dear Maria,
I hope I didnt leave off an accent mark on your name, I
wouldnt want to mispronounce it. As you know my Span-
ish is mucho limited and muy poor in pronouncement. I
am at my house now waiting for the correct time to leave to
have my staples removed from my back incision and want-
ed to send these poems and the essay What is a friend for
you to read and grade. Please do not be too harsh on me, as
I am just a poor country boy from Louisiana who never did
get much learning.
One of the highlights of this little adventure for me was
meeting you and marching down the hall. Please keep up
the marching- you have to have exercise to clear your mind
and sleep well at night.
I wanted to tell you about a Christian song which expresses
love between Christians. The words of the chorus are as
follows:
I love you with the love of the Lord,
Yes, I love you with the love of the Lord,
I can see in you
The glory of my King,
And I love you with the love of the Lord.
When we were talking, I was able to look into your eyes
and see the love of Jesus shining brightly out of them. This
I do not see in all eyes, but He is prominent in yours. With
our Savior so strong within you, remember that Greater is
He that is in you, than he who is in the world.
The power of the evil one over you is not power, because
power does good. It is only weakness. The power of
God, His Son and His spirit is POWER- with no ques-
tion marks. His power is also love, and His love for you
is greater than all the forces in the universe. Never forget
that. It was my privilege to be able to pray for you. Have
others pray for you and you for them. Release this power
that is available.
I will go now to my appointments. My prayers are with
you and my other friends that I met over the last few days.
Vaya con Dios.
In the love of God,
Dean
533 Rover Blvd.
Los Alamos, NM 87544
Phone [505] 672 3455
December 15, 1998
Dear Maria,
Hope that this letter is not coming too quickly after the last
letter. Did you receive the last letter? I wrote this poem
for you- based upon the conversation that we had about the
pipe and lighting it up. Light brings life when it is properly
used. If this were not so, Jesus would not have said I am
the Light of the world. If He is the Light of the world,
then we must think of His Light, even when we are tempted
by a darker light. But, I believe that I have expressed all of
this in the poem. I believe you would call the poem a free
style poem.
I have not read about the types of poems in over ffty years,
since I was in high school. A friend at my church has been
feeding me a little information from time to time about
non-rhyming poems, poems with a constant meter, etc.,
and I have listened to some of the modern poetry. Some
of it is really sick. It sounds like what would come out of
a twelve year old when he was trying to show how big he
was by using bad words.
I am doing well at home, but my wife left when I visited
Pinon Hill instead of sticking by me. So I will write her
a letter and see if things can be patched up, or whether I
should follow a new path. I know that God has work for
me to do for Him, and to work for Him is joy, so I will wait
for His instructions.
I looked at the letter written so far and saw too many Is.
I never knew how to correct that error in writing, unless
the letter is reviewed very carefully and revised to change
the subject. Couldnt I just put in a few Yos instead?
Wouldnt that break the I complex.
I am praying for you that Gods power will take over your
life and you can do for others as Jesus will do for you.
Please include me in your prayers for my family situation
and for an increased closeness to our Father.
In Gods love,
Dean
l07
When You See the Light
Moses saw a burning bush
That was not consumed.
He heard the words
Take off your shoes
On holy ground you stand
As he learned that he was with
The Great I AM.
When you see light
Brilliant or just a ficker,
Think of that time long ago.
When you see light,
Remember He died for you
Hung on a cross, his continence aglow.
No matter what the light,
A fame,
The glow of a frefy,
A comet in the sky,
Lightning between sky and earth,
Brightness of the sun you cant describe,
Light brings life, new birth.
But, sometimes light and heat are used
In opposition to Gods way,
To burn- destroy Gods creation,
To light a cigarette,
Or something even worse,
To cause to die instead of live,
To cause pain instead of joy,
What would Jesus say?
I am the Light, the Truth and the Way.
Only through Me will you fnd joy.
The light from the evil one,
Seeks only to destroy.
So when you see the evil light
That wants you to do wrong.
Put it out-Reach out to Me, for I am there,
My Love will make you strong.
M. Dean Keller
December, 1998
M. Dean Keller
533 Rover Blvd.
Los Alamos, NM 87544
Phone [505] 672 3455
December 22, 1998
Dear Maria,
At your request I am sending 50 copies of the poem My
Lord, my God, my All. I am happy that this poem, written
in the year that you were born, was of help to you. It was
written after I lost one of my best friends in combat over
Korea. He was only 18 years old at the time.
Yes, it is time to change friends when those friends are
slaves of drugs. You are free in Christ and need to have
Christian friends until you can gain the strength to confront,
one on one, those you care for. Then with your Christian
friends you can help change other lives for the better.
I am now alone in the house since my grandson went back
to Tulsa for two weeks. This will give me time for prayer
and contemplation about the situation I am in. It is lonely,
but I feel the power of God often and know that he is not
only walking besides be, but is sometimes carrying me.
Enjoy your new found freedom, your family, your God and
look forward for the best is yet to come.
In Gods love,
Dean.
Bryan Stuppy
27 December 1998
2416 Calle Loma Bonita
Santa Fe, NM 87505
M. Dean Keller
533 Rover Blvd
Los Alamos, NM 87544
Dear Dean,
I fnally got around to listening to the tape by Father Man-
ning. It is great and I felt compelled to sit down and write
you this thank you note. I was touched when he talked of
his alcoholism and his recovery. I also believe you have
facilitated a message to me from Christ since my journey
to Christ has taken many years and its foundation has been
my journey with the 12 Steps. Your poems and the essay on
friends was very touching also.
I pray you have been relieved of your depression and re-
sentments we talked about in the hospital.
Again, thank you and I hope we can continue as friends
==========================================
l08
To: Jennifer Baca <Jennifer_Baca@baylor.edu>
Subject: Re: Living the life of Job
Date: Sat, 23 Jan. 1999 18:01:11 -0700
Hi Jensan,
This last year I have been living the book of Job. God has been there, but mostly quietly in the background. I spent six
weeks in New Orleans helping my brother, Chuck, to go through two operations, and taking care of my sister-in-law while
my brother couldnt. My brother did quite well- but my sister-in-law, Pat, died on December 1, a day before I had my back
operation. After spending so much time with her and really getting to know her, it was quite a blow. Especially since I
could not even go to the funeral because of my operation. Everything went well with my operation, and I felt no pain and
took no pain pills.
I believe that I had told you that my wife had left, but she came in to take care of me after the operation. What a mis-
take. The frst day was good, but on Sunday, Dec. 6, I was a bad boy. My 1949 jeep was outside and it was going to snow
that night. Since I felt very good, I drove the jeep into the garage. My wife, Connie, when she found out, bawled me out
for about 10 minutes. Understand that when you have an operation, the anesthesia will cause depression, sensitivity, etc. ,
for about two weeks after. I saw this in my brothers case. He does not remember his two operations, only waking up in a
rehab center about fve weeks later.
I was then on the bad boy list, and was fussed at for little things, then treated kindly, then fussed at again. On Dec 7 I had
a nervous breakdown- I snapped. My impulse was to get a gun and end it all. I went out in the back yard where the cool
breeze changed my mind, but 911 was already called. So I was on the line with the police. My wife stated that she heard
two shots- none of which I fred. A policeman, Ross, fnally came into the house after I told them I wouldnt hurt anyone.
We talked for a while, and he said I would have to go to the emergency room for a checkup. Up there they said I would have
to go to Pinon Hills hospital to have a psychiatrist check me out to be sure I wouldnt hurt myself. My wife few the coop,
and went back to south Texas where she was staying. So I got to spend two days in a mental hospital where I met a real
nice group of persons. One lady, Maria, was on Crack Cocaine, so I prayed for her and told her I would send her a copy of
my poems. Remember the poem My Lord, my God, my All? She received my letter just as she was leaving, still in poor
shape. She started reading that poem on her way back to Las Vegas (she said she liked the picture of the cute white boy at
the top), and started crying all the way home. Two or three weeks later I received a call from her, made at the insistence of
her son, to tell me that she was clean-God had worked again. I pray that it sticks because crack is diffcult to get off of. Did
God send me there to meet Maria Gomez? If so, I wish that the next time it wouldnt be in the back of a police car. I was
out in two days, and the staff was sorry to see me go. They said I brought some laughter and love into their lives.
To have a little break, I decided to go to Tulsa to visit my son. On the way to Clines Corner my transmission went out. So
I had to be towed back to Santa Fe, about 8 miles. Thank God. What if it had happened 50 miles outside of Amarillo? Two
thousand dollars and a week later I had my car back. In the meantime I went to the grocery in my 1949 Jeep. To relax a
bit, I decided to go to the movie in Los Alamos, and started driving up there. The road was winding although I had gone
up it a thousand times before. The road curved, and I did not curve enough so I side swiped another car, and my car had
to go to the repair shop. Thank God!!! No one was hurt. My insurance will cover all of the cost. I believe that I have
been under too much stress for too long, and could no longer think properly.
So back to the Jeep again for local transportation.
Today I received my divorce papers from the lawyer for my wife. So that is enough to keep me busy for a few days. In
the meantime I am packing my things so that I can go live with my son, Steve, in Tulsa.
BUT--- All things work for good for those who love God, and I do love him sincerely. Did I mention that I have been
sick for the last two weeks? So move over Job, you have company.
With all of this going on, I believe that maybe God has a task for me. If so, this is pretty rough basic training. But without
pain and hardship, we become soft and cannot face the workings of the evil one. My discernment is not that good, so pray
that I may know if and what God has for me to do.
I hope I havent saddened you- this is all just part of life, the life on this earth. What is to come is so wonderful that this
will all be a faint memory, if that, when I cross over to the other side.
But keep me in your prayers that I may be a faithful servant, if that is what I am being called to be. Let me know what
comes to your mind when you read this. You may be the one who lets me know what the next step is. God only gives in-
structions one step at a time.
God bless you and keep you safe,
In His love,
Dean
l09
-----Original Message-----
From: Jennifer Baca <Jennifer_Baca@baylor.edu>
To: deanbo@sprynet.com <deanbo@sprynet.com>
Date: Saturday, January 23, 1999 4:58 PM
Subject: Hey there!
>Dear Mr. Deanbo,
>
>How in the world are you doing? Did you have a wonderful Christmas? Have you recovered from your surgery? You
need to update me on all thats gone on in the past month. I had a really nice Christmas. It was hard for my family since
it was the frst Christmas without my aunt here, but we got through it. I have to admit I was most disappointed about the
lack of snow! I was ready for tons of sledding and skiing adventures, and they did not happen. Ill just have to greatly
anticipate next year! School is going well. I really like my classes, but they are defnitely challenging. I decided not to
pledge a sorority this semester. The politically correct term is socially independent!
Two weeks ago I moved my church membership from Hoffmantown in Albuquerque to First Baptist Woodway here. Im
excited to become an active part of the church body. Id best get to studying now! I hope you have a super day!
Jen
Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur
one another on toward love and good deeds. Hebrews 10:23-24
Authors note: I met Jennifer Baca on a plane going into Albuquerque. We were seated next to each other. During the fight
we talked about many things, and especially our Father in heaven. I received an e-mail from her later that she was going
to Albuquerque for her aunts funeral. Our conversation on the plane helped to renew and reinforce her faith, and to help
her to say goodbye to a beloved aunt, even if it were only for just a little while.
After the Crucifxion, if There is Love - a Resurrection is Sure to Follow
On the next several pages I am going to try to relate how life came out of death, and joy replaced sorrow. There is a
cast of thousands in this epic story, and a few will be introduced on this page, pictorially, with words to blend together
these wonderful persons from my past, and my new life in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Sometime around
July, 1998, I was strong
enough to go out of the
house and go to Wood-
land Hills Mall. Unfor-
tunately I do not have
any early pictures but
the picture to the right
shows a birthday bash
held in front of our Taco Bell, the provider of coffee in the
early morning.
As written on the next few
pages I met many wonderful per-
sons, including my future wife,
Jean. Here we are, at the altar
- to the left. We had friends and
family from coast to coast and
from
border
to bor-
der, and
Katrin,
who
came all the way from Germany to
attend our wedding and visit with
Lucy and Deana. She is shown
with Jean and me on the right.
=======================================================================================
Jean and I are shown with
my brother and her brother
and sister in law. And down
below we have the new and
the old immediate families
from both sides of our new
family. The picture imme-
diately below includes Jean
and me with her chil-
dren, two of her grand-
children and in-laws.
The picture be-
low that includes my
brother, son, daughters-
in-law and three of my
grandchildren.
It appears that we
have doubled the size of
our immediate family,
and have also greatly
expanded the size of
our extended fam-
ily which extends from
coast to coast and from
border to border.
ll0
Tulsa Town
US
I was like a wounded bird
When frst we met.
Living in a distant past
That I couldnt forget.
I tried, but couldnt fy,
Could only walk, could easily cry,
Was sick of life, did almost die-
But then,
But then we met.
You smiled, you laughed,
You gave- the thought of the day.
We walked, we talked,
You stole my heart away.
You listened-
Sometimes to joking, sometimes to pain.
We were as one as we walked and talked,
Nothing to lose, everything to gain.
We dated-
With dinner and music
And a drive through the rain.
We married-
A church full of friends,
A beginning, again.
Five years later,
Were still in love,
And together, we worship
Our Father above.
We struggle with problems,
We help those we meet.
We bring laughter and song
To make days complete.
And this once wounded bird
Now soars through the sky.
Rejoicing in life,
Not waiting to die.
With you at my side
What could ever go wrong?
You gave me new life,
You brought back the song.
To Jean, with all my love,
Dean, November 3, 2004
lll
TULSA TOWN, THE STORY
Living the Life of Job: I was like a wounded bird when
frst we met. Living in a distant past that I couldnt forget.
I tried, but couldnt fy. Could only walk, could easily cry,
was sick of life, did almost die-
Calendar year 1998 was an eventful, though not a cheer-
ful year. Jake was living with us in Los Alamos, and doing
reasonably well in school, and at the house. In May, I was
fnishing my consulting work on the Plutonium Facility
Fire Protection System, and was having my teeth worked
on by Dr. Roberts. In May, my wife and I went to a 50 year
reunion of my high school class in Jefferson Parish, Louisi-
ana. This was held on May 31. (See page 102)
On July 5, 1998 I few by SW Airlines to New Orleans
to help Chuck through a very serious set of two operations.
My task was to take care of Pat while Chuck was having
the operations, and to provide transportation and any other
assistance required for Chuck while he underwent these
operations. One operation involved working on his spinal
column from the back, to insert rods to straighten his shape.
The other, the more serious, was to continue the operation
on the spinal column from the front. This involved open-
ing him up on the front, moving most of his internal organs
to the side, and operating on the spinal column. After the
frst operation, Chuck was straight for the frst time in many
years. Unfortunately, he was hallucinating, and did not
follow instructions, and the rods were loosened because the
cement that held them was not allowed enough time to
set. With recovery at the Greenery Rehabilitation Facility
in Slidell, this was a task which lasted from the frst part
of July through August 8. This was over a month of very
stressful care giving. When at last Chuck was cognizant
of his surroundings and able to proceed with his recovery
without me, I went home.
On September 9, 1998, Connie had a medical procedure
at the Los Alamos Medical Center which would determine
if a condition she had was serious or not. This was when I
had a question given to me, in my mind, Do you want me
to take her home? I recognized the voice. This question
was asked of me three times, and three times I said No, I
know that there ere problems, but that we could work them
out. Little did I know!
Connie was very loving when I got home, and left the
next day, October 20, to go to New Orleans to take care
of some problems concerning her mother. While there,
she said her sister, Georgia, had discovered some lumps
on her breasts, and she would have to stay longer. There
were some odd phone calls from the bank and other places,
that caused me to check her computer word processor. I
found that a couple of documents had been erased, but not
fully as she did not know how. I brought them back and
found one which berated me from before the marriage to
the present, and another that stated that she was leaving. I
contacted her in New Orleans, and she was very angry that
I invaded her privacy and found the letters, which she had
not completed yet. She said that when she was through
with the letter, she would send it to me. Always wanting
to be in control. In order to try to bring some sanity back
into the situation, I saw Dr. Santistevan, a psychologist
who, according to my wife, was my only hope of having
her back. He stated that she had sent him a list of problems
that she had with me. I visited with him, and he said that
he would not insult my intelligence by showing me these
statements. I stated that I had seen her letter, and that most
of the contents were not true. This is the same evaluation
that I received from Mr. Raymond Moore, a counselor in
Albuquerque, whom I contacted later on. He too had been
sent the document which berated me from before the mar-
riage to the present. The document was so demonic that I
have destroyed all copies and have professionally wiped it
off the computer memory. The letter that my wife sent to
me was flled with psychological concepts about boundar-
ies and other restrictions and requirements which would
have to be accomplished to allow the marriage to continue.
When read by Dr. Santistevan, he stated that it would be
impossible to fulfll. So, in a series of letters I tried to de-
termine what was needed to save the marriage. During this
time my wife few back to Albuquerque, took the Lincoln
Towncar which she had parked at the airport, and drove it
back to New Orleans. She then had transportation, and left
New Orleans, not telling me where she was, fearing that I
would go looking for her. This was an unfounded fear. I
did not realize at this time that she had been living a lie,
and planning this move for over a year, until it was revealed
to me by another person.
I had a back operation which was scheduled for Decem-
ber at St. Josephs hospital in Albuquerque. Connie said
that she would come back to Los Alamos to take care of me
after the operation, and perhaps we would be able to solve
our problems. Unfortunately, I agreed to this.
Living The Life Of Job
On December 1, 1998, while being prepared for the op-
eration, I received a phone call from Chuck telling me that
Pat had died of a heart attack that day. I was unable to go
to the funeral. On December 2 the operation took place and
all went well, and there was very little pain. On December
4, Connie had fown in from south Texas where she was
hiding (she was so paranoid that she would not let me
know where she was), and rented a Lincoln Town Car to
take me to Los Alamos in comfort, considering that I was
just coming out of the hospital after back surgery. We ar-
rived in Los Alamos on December 5, late afternoon. Then
started the hate/love swings from hour to hour, depending
on what I did wrong, causing my nervous breakdown.
This was documented in my e-mail to Jennifer Baca dated
23 Jan 1999. This is attached to the section Maria.
Needless to say she left again, and this is the last time I
saw her, until we met again on August 8, 2008 at Deanas
wedding. She did call a few times, to have permission
to use money from her IRA account, to ask how to fx a
problem with the car (water from humidity in the gas tank),
and one time to discuss something with me, I dont remem-
ber what or when I said something to her, she replied, in a
ll2
laughing voice, Oh John! This is the name of her intend-
ed. What a slip! I believe that this was punishment time.
But, back to the life of Job. First, the trip to the Pinyon
Hills Hospital which is documented in the section Maria,
up to and including the transmission failing on the Lincoln
Continental. The Continental was returned on January 8,
1999. About January 9, while sitting in the brown chair
in the front room I discovered that I had developed incon-
tinence. A trip to Dr. Linnebur on January 13 resulted in
an appointment with Dr. Milroy, a Urology specialist, for
February 4. Almost socialized medicine- one month for an
offce visit.
In order to cheer up a little, I planned to go to the movie
on the Hill (Los Alamos downtown) on January 15 to see
Patch Adams starring Robin Williams. On the way up the
front hill road, due to a distraction on my part, I sideswiped
another car, totaling both cars. Los Alamos Police Offcer,
Racci Deluca, was on the scene, although it was not under
the jurisdiction of Los Alamos. She gave me a ride back to
White Rock and was very supportive, as she knew the prob-
lems that I had experienced. A few days later, I rented a
budget rental car to go to Albuquerque to see Dr. McCutch-
eon for a checkup on my back operation. Then I made two
visits to see Fr. Kelly, in the dead of winter, using the 1949
jeep. The starter would not work every time, so sometimes
it had to be pushed to start. I learned to park at a high place
in the Trinity on the Hill Episcopal Church parking lot, so I
could push it down hill, jump in, throw it in gear, and start.
The heater didnt work well, but with a canvas top, who
could tell. It did leak air.
During the frst part of February, I received a call from
Dr. Milroys offce stating that my appointment was being
slipped a month. I told them I would probably be dead by
then, and was encouraged by the receptionist stating No-
body dies from incontinence. Unfortunately, the delay
had already stretched my bladder.
Steve to the Rescue
On February 4, Steve came in to Los Alamos to rescue
dear old dad, since all others had left me to die. Being ef-
fcient, he rented a moving truck much larger than I thought
was needed, and with the help of Frank Osvath, loaded
most of my worldly possessions in the truck, and hooked
up the Jeep, my only means of transportation, behind the
truck. On Saturday night, we arrived at my new home in
Tulsa, with a doctors appointment for Monday morning to
have my incontinence diagnosed and treated. I was greeted
warmly by all persons, including friends of the family and
the dogs. Especially the dogs. Little did Aspen know that I
was going to depose him as the Alpha dog in the house, and
claim all of his territory.
On Monday, February 8, 1999, I met Dr. Confer who
ran some tests and told me that I needed a Prostate opera-
tion. Actually, more than one operation would be required,
with rehabilitation, which included physical and medical
assistance. I had to go back to Los Alamos to see Dr. Mc-
Cutcheon, and Dr. Linnebur. Then back to Tulsa for the
frst operation on March 8 at St. Francis Hospital. I was out
of the hospital the next day.
I had a police obligation to fulfll, so I attended Driv-
ers Education in Jenks that Saturday. It was a very good
course, and I wish I had taken it before. When I went
to obtain an Oklahoma drivers license I found that my
eyesight, which was very good before without glasses for
distance, had changed very much- for the worst. I could
hardly pass the eye exam, and was told that I had to see an
optometrist as soon as possible. Also, my license was held
up by the New Mexico courts which did not have a record
of my fne being paid. Everyone was picking on poor old
dad. I had to pay the fne twice to have the bad boy
removed from my drivers license.
On March 15 I saw Dr. Razdan who was the general
practitioner that Steve had assigned to me. He sent me to
St. Francis Hospital for a bone marrow test based on the
blood test taken on March 5. In that test my Hemoglo-
bin had dropped from 15.7 (blood test, 11/20/98) to 12.6
(3/5/99) and the platelet count had dropped from 253,000
to 188,000. . The bone marrow showed a 50% cellular
Hairy Cell Leukemia content- it had returned. This was,
no doubt, aided by the stress that I had been under for the
last few months. It is not an understatement that I had been
left to die.
During this period, I had to have a urine bag on my leg,
and I didnt have to go to the bathroom during the night.
One morning I woke up and found that I had a liter of
liquid in the bag. Not wanting to waste a good opportunity,
I went out into the yard with Aspen and Sally following
me, and spread the contents of the bag high up on the fence
surrounding the yard. This was to cause Aspen to think that
it must have been a very large dog who had put a claim on
his territory. I was then the Alpha dog in that house, and
Aspen was very upset with me. That poor dog avoided me
for quite a few days. This was the most fun that I had in
the last few months.
On March 25, 1999, the divorce was fnal, and I in-
formed my former wife that we were to each consider
the other dead, since marriage is for life. Also, under no
circumstances are we to be at any family event at the same
time. There is to be no communication between us. Pe-
riod. This remained in force until May 2006 when I sent a
letter to Connie asking forgiveness and giving forgiveness
so that we both could walk in Gods light. She responded
very positively, and, I believe, most of the negative aspects
of a diffcult time were eliminated when we met for the frst
time in many years at Deanas wedding on August 8, 2008.
On March 31, I started the seven day series of shots of
2CdA chemotherapy. My doctor was Dr. Schnetzer, an
outstanding oncologist. Even so, for Hairy Cell Leukemia,
he had to call some colleagues to properly understand the
course of treatment for that disease. Then came the usual
weakness, almost falling down the stairs at Steves house,
much sleep, and general chemotherapy feelings. But, all
ll3
went well and I was feeling better after a couple of weeks.
The house closing took place on April 23 thereby breaking
my last tie with Los Alamos. I then became an Okie.
I was well enough for another operation with Dr Confer
on April 30 and I slowly regained my strength. On May 13,
Steve and I went to Slidell, in the RV that I had purchased,
to help Chuck with a minor operation. I also helped with
doctor visits, flling out his tax return for 1998, and then,
having some much needed vacation time. Frank and Mary
joined us later. After Slidell we went to Biloxi where we
visited Cristy, a friend of Steves whose mom and dad I
knew well. We also went parasailing. On the parachute
were Dean, Mary and Frank, three generations hanging
from the cords. We went back to Tulsa on May 28.
A bone marrow test on June 7 indicated that the Hairy
Cell Leukemia was in remission. This is the same day
that I purchased the Mercury Villager Minivan, thereafter
known as Old Red.
Steve, Frank, Jason and I went to St. Louis on June 16
to go to the fair. I went on all the rough rides, showing that
I was still macho. I did notice some bruising while in St.
Louis. Thus begins another chapter in the Life of Job.
The Battle Of The Platelet Count
On June 24, 1999, I recognized that something was
wrong and had a blood test taken. It showed that my plate-
let count was 7000, rather than the 254000 that it was on
June 2. This resulted in an immediate platelet transfusion
at 5:00 pm that evening. At church, the Church of the Holy
Spirit, Episcopal, on Sunday, June 27, while waiting for the
service, my eye turned black. We had contacted the emer-
gency number that the doctor had given us, and were await-
ing word on another platelet transfusion. It seemed that
platelets were scarce in Tulsa, and some had to be driven
in from Oklahoma City. So we waited, with cell phone on.
Steve was there with me. After Mass, we went for prayer at
a very beautiful part of the service, where prayer partners,
usually spirit flled, prayed for individuals. We had a Mrs.
Robinson, same name as the lady in The Graduate, and she
and Steve were praying earnestly for dear old dad. The
call came from the doctors offce, and off we went for our
second platelet transfusion at 7:00 pm that evening. The
platelet count was 7000 that night, with no increase due
to the frst transfusion. Steve and I were both concerned,
as was Dr. Schnetzer. On June 28th I had another platelet
transfusion and Dr. Schnetzer put me on 100 MG Predni-
sone per day, and this lasted until July 12 when the platelet
count was at 75000, and the Prednisone (Steroids) were
decreased over the next month. On June 28th, 30th, and
July 4th I received platelet transfusions.

Taking Prednisone wasnt all bad. I had brought much
stuff from Los Alamos and had it stored in my room at
Steves house. So, into the wee hours of the morning I
would be going through the stuff, throwing out much, and
placing much into a pile to be sent to New Orleans for she
who will remain nameless. Unfortunately, I threw out
some good stuff, but it really doesnt matter. Stuff is stuff,
and the less you accumulate, the better off you are. Thus
ended the long adventure of the Life of Job.
A Beginning Again
But then, but then we met.
You smiled, you laughed, you gave- the thought of the day.
We walked, we talked, you stole my heart away.
You listened- Sometimes to joking, sometimes to pain.
We were as one as we walked and talked, nothing to lose,
everything to gain.
We dated- with dinner and music and a drive through the
rain.
We married- a church full of friends, a beginning, again.
As I recovered my strength, Mary had been teach-
ing me the layout of Tulsa, how the streets were oriented
North-South and East-West, and Yale, Sheridan, Memorial,
Mingo, etc. and even one named for the family dog, Aspen.
Then 71st, the main east-west street in South Tulsa, and
81st, etc. The grid consisted of one-mile between main
streets in each direction. I was lost downtown one day,
and just headed south and east, and got back to the house
through Jenks. As I had already stated, I had purchased a
Mercury Minivan, Old Red, and had an eye examination
and purchased new eye glasses so I could see well enough
to drive. I even had an Okie drivers license. To encourage
me to get out of the house, probably hoping to have a little
privacy again, Mary told me about the walkers at Woodland
Hills Mall, just a few blocks away. So off I went to the
mall, still a wounded bird, looking for a balm to make my
ruffed feathers whole.
I went to the mall, and in the food court there were
numerous groups of people. One group was of old timers,
with Wild Bill as a sort of senior advisor. Bill was very
good with me, knowing that I was a wounded bird, he
gave me much information about walking and the charac-
teristics of the persons at the mall, and what was expected
of persons. Another group on the upper level was the war
dogs, with many persons there who served in B-17 bomb-
ers in WW II. Numerous other groups varying in size from
four to 16 persons were around the food court. Coffee was
available from Nagel in the bakery, which had all kinds
of fattening sweet things. The Taco Bell also had coffee,
and there were interesting persons, all very friendly. So, I
started walking. One lap around the mall was a half-mile,
and my usual run was for two miles. Sometimes I timed
myself with a stopwatch to see how fast I could go. About
four miles per hour was the best that I ever did.
One day I was sitting with the old war dogs on the upper
level, when a young lady came up and shared the thought
of the day with them. She was friendly, pretty, and easy
to talk to. She was funny also, which is very important
when one has been on anti-depressants for a long time. I
followed her down to another group, whose patriarch was
a man named Paul. He was a retired engineer, confned to
a wheel chair at this time. By this time I had introduced
myself to the young lady, named Jean, and I sat and talked
ll4
with them for a while. When Jean got up to leave, as usual
for a southern gentleman, I kissed her hand and walked her
to the door. This was the frst part of August.
On August 11, Jean left for an OES trip to Canada. I
asked her to send me a card, and she did. It arrived after
she was back on August 21, 1999. Well, we just happened
to arrive at the same place at the same time every morn-
ing, right after Paul Harvey on the radio. And we walked
together, and talked about much and little. Jean was very
attentive when I had personal problems that I had to discuss
with someone. On September 9 Steve dropped in to check
out Jean, but this was not because I asked him to. I had
talked about Jean to Steve and Mary but, and I know that
some persons will not believe me, I never asked Steve to
check her out. Back at the house, Steve said, Go for it,
Dad. And on September 10 I asked Jean to go out with me
for dinner at the Bravo Restaurant.
September 10th was a wet and rainy day. The sky was
black, the lightning was striking, and electricity was going
out all over the place. I decided to show Jean a good time
on this date, since she had only been on a half date since
her late husband, John, had died. She told her daughter,
Sandy, that she did not know what to do- she had not been
on a date in ffty years.
That afternoon I went to Southwood Florist and pur-
chased a corsage. Then on with the suit, and over to Jeans
house in the rain in Old Red. I went to the house with an
umbrella and escorted Jean to Old Red. Then off we went,
with my driving scaring her as she gave me directions on
how to get to the Bravo Restaurant. We made it safely,
and went in. The singing waiters and waitresses were
in excellent voice that night, and fve and ten dollar bills
were fying as we requested songs, such as The Impos-
sible Dream, and others. She was impressed, and I wasnt
one to discourage her. We had our meal, which was fair,
and enjoyed the singing, since we both thought in songs.
What a night! As Jean came out of the ladies room on the
way back to the car, a band was playing, and I reached out
to her and we started dancing in the hallway in the hotel.
Then we left this musical paradise got in the car and drove
through the rain to her house.
We dated-
With dinner and music
And a drive through the rain.
She started showing me some pictures of her family,
the high school book, and other items to cover nervous-
ness with this strange man in the house. In the front hall
she said goodbye, and I kissed her- and said I could get
used to this. When I returned to Steves house the RV was
parked in front of the house with the generator on to power
some lights in the house. I believed that there was a prob-
lem with the fashlights at Jeans house, so I gathered up
three fashlights with corroded batteries to repair or replace
and return with fresh batteries, since none of them worked.
The next day Jean called me to invite me to a party with
her church choir. I believe she wanted to have me checked
out too, and there is security in numbers. We had a good
time, I sang the song Father for them, and this was the
start of something grand. After this check-out, we started
seeing each other almost every night, went out to eat, and
short trips around the area to Order of the Eastern Star oc-
casions. On October 13, 1999, I had to go to Slidell to help
Chuck and spend some time with him. This was the second
time that I visited him without Pat. The frst was in May
for about two weeks. Jean had to go to Guthrie for OES
Grand Chapter at the same time. During that time Jean
would call every night and hang up. That was my signal
to call her in her hotel room, using my phone card. Didnt
want to charge anything to Chucks telephone bill. We both
returned by October 22.
We married-
A church full of friends,
A beginning, again.
On November 8, Jean and I went to Moodys Jewelry
to pick out a ring. After looking at one ring, valued at
$25,000 which vanquished all wrinkles and signs of age
on both of our bodies, she settled for one she liked for less
than one-third of that cost. This was part of the game the
ring people play. After, we went over to Steves house
where Jean asked Steve for my hand in marriage. He
gladly gave his blessing so that he would have an extra
bedroom and Aspen would be the Alpha dog again. Then
to Sandys house where I asked Sandy for her mothers
hand in marriage. Sandy looked shocked, so I told her,
She doesnt have to get married, she isnt pregnant. At
that, she laughed and gave her blessing.
On February 12 we were married. On my side we had
Chuck, the Tulsa Kellers, the Lantermans, Lucy and Deana
Keller and Katrin, who came from Germany for the wed-
ding, and other friends from Tulsa. On Jeans side we had
family, three sons and her daughter, and grandchildren,
other relations and in-laws, the state leadership of the Order
of the Eastern Star in full uniform, and hundreds of friends
to fll the church.
Thus began the joyful beginning of the rest of my life.
Five years later,
Were still in love,
And together, we worship
Our Father above.
We struggle with problems,
We help those we meet.
We bring laughter and song
To make days complete.
And this once wounded bird
Now soars through the sky.
Rejoicing in life,
Not waiting to die.
With you at my side,
What could ever go wrong?
You gave me new life,
You brought back the song.
ll5
Travel, 2004, Part 1, From Ocean to Ocean
Preface: 2004 was a busy year. We were delivering
meals-on-wheels on the last two or three Fridays of the
month and visiting the usual doctors for our various medi-
cal adventures. On February 12, we celebrated our fourth
wedding anniversary. Everything was as normal as it can
be for persons over seventy years old. On May 13, 2004,
we loaded Silver (our 2001 Chrysler Minivan) and took
a trip to Nashville to celebrate the graduation of Jennifer
Buchanan, Jeans granddaughter, from Belmont University.
Many of the family were there and a good time was had
by all. Silver turned over 50,000 miles on this trip. We
stayed at the Marriot Airport hotel and we were surprised
to receive a complementary breakfast because we had such
a problem in fnding the hotel, and my Marriot club mem-
bership was still in effect. It was delicious. Then back to
Tulsa, arriving on the afternoon of May 17.
On May 29 we few down to Columbia, SC for Gingers
(Mary Kellers sister) wedding. There we met many mem-
bers of Jim Meehans (Gingers soon to be husband) family.
Jean and I were asked to and sang a couple of songs for the
wedding reception. We also cut up and had a lot of fun. It
was good to see Frank and Flo Osvath, Marys father and
mother, at the wedding. We had a fun time touring the
town on our own. One time we were lost, and didnt even
know which direction was which. We had our Pocket PC
with us, with a map of the Columbia area and the hotel,
well hidden back in a grove of trees, marked on the map.
So we started out in one direction to learn which way was
north, then steered the rental car in a direction which would
bring us back to the hotel. It worked, and we went up
many streets never seen before. On April 30 we few back
to Tulsa to prepare for the next trip, and to have a blood test
to see how my health was doing. I was having a blood test
every two months at this time, and on June 10 my blood
counts were very good, with the platelets at 210,000.
On June 14 we few up to Portland, Oregon, rented a car,
and drove to Eugene, Oregon to visit with Pepper, Adam
and Patches. On June 17 we drove up to Gig Harbor,
Washington to visit Jack (Jeans brother) and his wife,
Roselyn. We also visited the fsh market where the fsh
are thrown from worker to worker. It would have been
easy to be hit by a fying fsh in that place. On June 19 we
boarded the Diamond Princess ship
as one of the 2000+ passengers,
which included Dennis and Betsy
Estep, David and Julia Estep, Jim
and Mary Estep, Julias sister and
brother-in-law and Jean and Dean
Keller. This ship was less than a
year old and was built by Mitsubi-
shi Heavy Industries, Ltd. (The
same company which built the
Japanese Zero) in Nagasaki Ship-
yard and Machinery Works (The
second city to be destroyed by the atomic bomb). It was a
beautiful ship and very smooth sailing.
On this trip I had the honor of portraying the part of
Sam McGee in the Cremation of Sam McGee being
told by Buckwheat, an Alaskan native who is prominent
in the school systems and tourist industries in Alaska. If
you know the poem, which is required to be memorized by
students in Alaska, there is the moment and before night-
fall, a corpse was all, that was left of Sam McGee. At
that point I slipped out of the chair that I was sitting on and
went down to the foor. Surprise all around, then laughter
as Buckwheat, realizing what had happened, laughed then
said, I lost my place! I countered with, There wasnt
a breadth in that land of death. He countered, Shut up,
Dean - youre dead. I managed to ham it up, and had
caused many to have a good laugh.
On the Diamond Princess we visited Juneau, Skag-
way, Tracy Arm, Ketchikan, (all in Alaska,) and Victoria,
Canada. We arrived back at Seattle, Washington on June
26 at 7:00 AM. Jack and Roselyn were at the dock to meet
us and the kids when we disembarked. After a couple of
nights and days in Gig Harbor and visits with relatives, we
few back to Tulsa to catch up.
Jean & Dean
& Ice
Jack &
Roselyn
ll6
Native American Building in Alaska Jean & Jack with boat Cruise Ship in Skagway
Resting in Gig
Harbor,
Washington
A formal picture of those who braved a heat wave
in the land of the midnight sun - Alaska
ll7
Travel, 2004- Part 2 North East United States
We spent about ten weeks at home, except for a few
short trips to happenings around Oklahoma. On September
8, we prepared to go to an Air Force reunion of the 91st
Strategic Reconnaissance Wing, which included members
of the 91st Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron with which
I served in combat over Korea. This reunion was held in
New London, Connecticut. While in the neighborhood
we planned on visiting New York City, Philadelphia and
Boston. We chose New York City as the frst stop on our
trip. Our American Airlines aircraft landed on Long Island
at MacAuthor Field on September 9. We took a train from
Long Island to Pennsylvania Station in New York City,
right across from Hotel Pennsylvania where we were stay-
ing. On the train we sat across from two young ladies who
were from South America and could speak very little Eng-
lish. With my limited Spanish, we had a limited conversa-
tion with a lot of laughs, ending in a Vie con Dios. The
universal language of laughter and love come through. The
accommodations in the hotel were not the best, since we
obtained a cut rate through Travelocity. It seems that they
keep their least desirable rooms for those of us who want to
save a little money. It was adequate though, and the world
famous Lindys restaurant was downstairs. We had break-
fast at Lindys many times. It was just like Dennys, except
more expensive.

All persons that we met in NYC were friendly and fun.
We took a tour bus, which went through many sections of
NYC with a stop in China Town. We got off there and vis-
ited Chinatown. Unfortunately Chinatown was a crowded,
not too clean place, with much junk to sell. We got on
another bus and went down to the water edge where we ate
at Battery Gardens. And used the rest room too! What a
relief! From there we walked down to the site of the twin
towers, visited and paid our respects. From there we went
down one of the main streets, heading back to the hotel.
We stopped at McDonalds, always a refuge anywhere in the
world, and had some hot fudge sundaes. Then we walked
a bit further and managed to catch a cab with a cabbie who
spoke English. He was an Indian named Manjid, the same
as a good friend of mine with ASTM. We had an interest-
ing ride back to the hotel, as only a New York cabbie can
give you. He was an enjoyable person.
The next day we took a boat tour around the Island,
with a remarkable tour guide who explained aspects of the
places that we were passing. It was impressive to see the
grand lady, the Statue of Liberty, in the harbor. On the last
trip that I made to NYC I climbed the stairs to the top of the
torch or head, I dont remember which. But this was after
9/11 and many things were restricted in NYC.
One afternoon we went to 42nd Street and enjoyed a
wonderful play, Wonderful Town. After the play was over
we went to Times Square and noticed that a street to the
right (looking away from lower Manhattan) was blocked
off for maybe a mile or two, and vendors and food shacks
were all along the street. We asked a policeman who was
standing by what was happening, and he told us that they
were throwing a block party, New York style, for us. How
nice of them. On Sunday, Sep-
tember 12, 2004, we went to
services at a Presbyterian Church
on Park Avenue where we were
warmly greeted. Afterwards we
had snacks with members of the
church and enjoyed their pres-
ence. New Yorkers are very
friendly.

But New York had to end,
and we packed up our bags and
took AmTrak on September 13 to
Philadelphia to see the Liberty Bell, enjoy the city, and visit
with a former engineering colleague, Pradip (pronounced
Pradeep which means candle in Hindi) Khan. AmTrak is
a great way to travel. While in Philadelphia we visited the
Liberty Bell and the associated facilities. I was surprised
that the Liberty Bell looked so small compared to the
last time that I saw it. When we got back home I found a
picture from the last time I was in Philadelphia and it was
larger. Somebody either shrunk it with Preparation H, or it
was shrunk while being washed. This is a mystery that we
can not solve. We had a nice visit with Pradip and family.
I asked Pradip if he had arranged a marriage for his daugh-
ters as was customary in India. He stated that they were
too American to even try that. Both daughters, Moulona
and Alisha were very nice and brilliant. It was a pleasure to
be with Pradips wife, Mousumi.
After a pleasant visit and dinner at a local restaurant,
where I ordered and enjoyed oysters, we bid our farewells
and went back to Philadelphia to prepare for the AmTrak
trip to New London, Connecticut for the Air Force Re-
union. Arriving in New London on September 16, we
walked from the AmTrak station to the hotel, being accom-
panied on part of the trip by a local residence who told us
much about the city. We were a funny looking couple, with
our suitcases piled up on each other and our small wheels
carrying that big load. But make it to the hotel we did, and
everything was ready for us at a very nice hotel.
ll8

The Aircraft, B-29 Bomber
And the men who were the members of the crews who
few them, over ffty years ago now equipped with pot
bellies
The pictures to the right of this paragraph sums up the
reunion. Old goats, with long memories, looking at the
chariots of fre that supported them as they few through the
sky bringing knowledge back to our headquarters. We were
all in reconnaissance, from propeller driven RB-29 bomb-
ers as pictured on the right, pitted against the more sophis-
ticated jet fghters (MIG-15) capable of fying at the speed
of sound. We shared a common beneft from our service;
we never had to drop a bomb or kill a person, and a com-
mon sorrow in that we all lost good friends from enemy
action or accidents.
Being in the northeast, a lob-
ster dinner was in order, and we
had one in Mystic, Connecticut. I
did not get the lobster, as I dont
really care for them, but there
were alternate foods that were
good. After the dinner we went
on a boat ride, with a boat which
had an original 1900s coal fred engine.
We had a most
enjoyable boat
ride past numer-
ous sail boats
and other boats,
all with friendly
persons waving
to us, and us to
them. Then back
to the hotel for
supper, meetings
and a reunion
dance. A good
time was had by all, but I found that my old squadron,
the 91st Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron from Yokota
AFB, Japan, was not well represented. I was young when
I was in Japan, and now was one of the old timers (goats
or war-dogs) at the meeting. The younger jet-set was the
best represented. After the reunion, off to AmTrak again on
September 20, for a pleasant trip up to Boston and our next
adventure.
The sail boat and the
steam boat may not be
fast, but in this very busy
world they are sure a
relaxing way to sight see.
Slow down once in
a while and smell the
roses!
ll9
Boston
Boston is a walking town, if
your legs are good enough. We
were settled down in a Radisson
Hotel just a few blocks from the
Boston Common. We had our frst
meal in the Theater caf, which
is in the hotel, and was weird, but
nice. They had a potato serving
which is a creation of the chef, but
not much as far as taste went. It
was layered from different types
of potatoes. From one end of town
to the other, you can walk, much of the walk being on the
Freedom trail. And so we did. Starting at the Boston Com-
mon we went to the old cemetery where John Hancock was
buried, along with many other great early Americans. After
walking through parts of Boston we stopped at Durgan
Park, one of my favorite places in the US. The waitresses
used to insult you,
to give you a good
Irish atmosphere,
but this was no
longer the custom.
We still had the old
wood tables with
wooden benches,
with great oysters,
but no insults. On
the way out, Jean
asked the greeter
why we werent insulted. He asked Were you insulted
that you werent insulted? In the same neighborhood we
had Faneuil Hall Market, founded 1827 (Durgan Park was
founded before that), and the hall where the government of
the United States was frst discussed, debated, and formed.

And so we went, walking along the old streets, seeing
Old Iron Sides (The Constitution) looking well polished
at her dock, but we couldnt go on board since they were
not opened on that day. That evening we had a wonderful
meal at Bennigans where I serenaded the waiter with Irish
songs. I also had a dark ale, which was really good. Bos-
ton is a wonderful town to visit, and the people are great,
Jean in the plush dining room of Durgen Park
as I have found them
everywhere. The next
day we had a harbor tour
which was really nice,
with another view of Old
Iron Sides, and a tour of
a WWII destroyer which
was docked as a memo-
rial.
That the spirit of
democracy is not dead. I will tell you of an encounter with
a Boston native who was collecting money for the Kerry
campaign. He looked toward me and he asked, would you
like to donate? I replied I may not agree with a thing that
you say, but I will fght to the death for your right to say it.
So there stood two opposite ends of the political arena, and
he turned to me and said Thank you, Sir. The bitter hate
that has been displayed by some members of both parties
will not overcome the bond we share as Americans.
Jean is standing adjacent to a big bear in front of a build-
ing in Boston - pictured to the right. The Hancock Build-
ing is below- with its
massive glass exterior.
There was a design
faw in the building
which resulted in many
panes of glass having
to be replaced, in fact I
believe it was all panes.
On a previous trip I
saw protective awnings
over the sidewalks, with spotters around the building to
warn when a pane was going to break. It could be known
to the trained eye by a change in color as the glass became
stressed. This building has a
pendulum system on the top
which moves back and forth to
counteract the movement caused
by wind forces. We could not
go up in the building because,
since 9/11, security is very strict,
and badges are required for
entrance to the elevators.
So we spent our last day in
Boston, enjoying the city
and the historic aspects
as well as the ultra-mod-
ern buildings and bridg-
es. Then, on September
22, off to the airport, the
same one which the 9/11
bad guys used to launch
two of their attacks on
us. A pleasant trip back
The spirit of Boston is expressed
in the fag in Faneuil Hall --
DONT TREAD ON ME
l20
to Tulsa, and then a week or so to rest
up before going on the next leg of our
travels, to San Diego and Sacramento,
California.
So long Boston. We are sad to
leave, but we will return!! And we did
on May 20, 2007, when the sky was
not only overcast, but raining cats and dogs. (See above)
We bought two umbrellas, ate at Durgan Park, took a
bus tour, stayed at a high class and expensive hotel, and
enjoyed every minute of it.
Boston Revisited
Jean and I had the pleasure of attending the Grand
Chapter Session of the Order of the Eastern Star of Mas-
sachusetts in Lowell, Massachusetts. We landed in Boston,
obtained a rental car and drove to Lowell in a ffty mile
traffc jam. We did arrive there, appreciative of the large
number of people who live in the Northeast. It was an in-
teresting session, and we met many new friends and a few
old friends. After the session we drove to Boston for a fnal
fing in that great city. There we stayed in the very fne and
very expensive Radisson Hotel in downtown Boston. We
only had a short time, and of course Durgan Park was again
on the agenda, in the rain. It rained the whole time that
we were there. We found our way there, buying a couple
of umbrellas at a shopping mall. Events are a little fuzzy
about the singing in the rain day, but we did get to Dur-
gan Park, and took a tour bus trip around Boston which was
delightful. One interesting part of the tour was when we
went by the Hancock Building and the driver gave a brief
statement about this magnifcent but troubled building. As
a structural engineer I knew much more about the advanced
engineering properties of the building and the problems that
they had with the windows and fexing of the structure than
he did, and was able to enlighten him to some of the inner
secrets of the structure.
As an added treat we obtained tickets for the Stewart
Street Playhouse to see a very entertaining play entitled
Respect, a Musical Journey for Women. A review of the
play follows: Respect is an engaging and fun mix of music,
song and theatrical shtick. Dorothy Marcics script is based
on her book, Respect: Women and Popular Music, and
wittily broaches core feminist issues - sans sledgehammer
- along with issues of love, family, heartbreak and relation-
ship angst.
It was magnifcent!
The power of a word!
One interesting event, which is still fresh in my mind
took place in the Hotel elevator. Jean and I entered the
elevator and noticed that there was an Indian (from India)
family on the elevator. There were two ladies, two men
and one child. I naturally placed my hands together in the
prayer attitude and said Namaste. This brought an instant
response, with the ladies lighting up like 1000 watt light
bulbs and the men giving a somewhat stoic smile. Then the
two ladies told the little boy say Namaste to the the man
and they brought their hands together to return the greeting.
This is similar to the same results from greeting persons
of the Hindu faith with their universal greeting. It is very
profound and hard to describe the meaning in English. It
is somewhat like The spirit of God within me welcomes
and loves the spirit of God within you. Also I respect
that divinity within you that is also within me. It had the
same effect in Branson, Missouri, Houston, Texas, and
Tulsa, Oklahoma. The effect is similar to saying Salaam
alaykum to a loving Muslim person or God Bless you to
a loving Christian. Note that the religion does not mean as
much as the LOVING part of the last sentence.
A trip to Bennigans was in order again, where I put on
my Irish hat and enjoyed a dark beer and sang Irish songs.
Jean is so wonderful in that she puts up and sometimes
even enjoys my excesses.
The next adventure was to get to the airport on time. I
had purchased a Garmin car navigation system which we
brought with us for travel in Boston. We couldnt get a
signal in the hotel parking garage, so we just had to get out
of town to an open area. Completely lost, we pulled into
a parking lot at a large shopping center and re-established
our location, and we already had the airport located on the
equipment. At our command, this cute little toy with a
sweet ladys voice told us, step by step, how to get to the
airport, and she was right on!!!!
This Eastern Star adventure was one of many over our
ten years of marriage. I was refused membership in the
Masons because of my inability to memorize stuff. I
believe that this was rather silly and painful to all involved,
especially Jean and me, but we got over it and I participated
as a non-member of the Eastern Star and probably did more
for the Good of the Order than many of the members did.
The persons with whom I had to work were of, I would
estimate, the top ten percent (dedication and quality) of the
Eastern Star members, and they were as good in all ways
as the top ten percent of the general population, or perhaps
better. There are no real secrets and the persons who are
always looking for fault in the Masons or the Eastern Star,
especially fanatical so call Christians, should get a life!!!
This is much more polite than what I was thinking as I
came to this point where I should express this opinion. I
say this as a non-mason who has been deeply involved in
Eastern Star activities enough to know the inner spirits of
these wonderful persons who have no more and perhaps
less warts than the rest of us.
l2l
Travel 2004, Part 3, South-West United States

On September 24, 2004, the start of Yom Kippur, we did
our Meals on Wheels, and on September 29 we boarded
an aircraft to fy to San Diego for the 2004 Reunion of
the 307th Bomb Wing being held at the Red Lion Hanalei
Hotel. This is a magnifcent hotel with a Hawaiian favor
throughout.
With this as our base we,
the old goats of the 307th,
packed ourselves into our
Ducks, which are at home on
the street as in the water, and
headed out for a water borne
sight seeing tour of San Diego
Harbor and a Midway Aircraft Museum Tour on September
30. We were quite comfortable with an overhead cover to
protect us from sun or rain, and much to see in the sur-
rounding area. Of course
there were ships galore, such
as seen in the picture to the
right, as well as old time San
Diego residents, as shown
below. These San Diego
residents could let out a
bellow to let you know that
they were there.
Some other
residents were not
as loud, but very
proud, as can be
seen to the right.
Besides these residents we were able to see a submarine,
numerous boats of all kinds, and a harbor just teeming with
life.

After touring the
Harbor, we toured the
Aircraft Carrier, Mid-
way, which is now a
foating museum. Jean
is shown quite at home
in the kitchen shown
to the right. We went
up and down ladders
visiting all parts of the
carrier, to see how the
sailors managed with
their cramped quarters.
Then in contrast to the cramped quarters, we have the large
expanse of the carrier deck, complete with aircraft from
propeller to jet types. A carrier is a remarkable city on the
waves, much
larger than the B-
29 bomber which
I had to travel in.
However, I could
go to town, and
had mother earth
below my feet,
not water.
That night
we had dinner
at the Casa Guadalajara Restaurant and were serenaded by
a Mexican Mariachi band, and traditional Mexican food.
After, we went off to Old Town Theater for a production of
I love you, Youre perfect, Now change. The next day
we had an Old Town Trolley Tour and Harbor Cruise com-
bined. This was a larger ship, and we toured the harbor,
seeing many more ships stationed in the harbor as anchored
museums or combat ready ships. A
hospital ship that we saw at anchor
there later saw service in the far
east after the Tsunami hit Indone-
sia.
Back to the hotel for a Poly-
nesian Review & Luau. As you
can see, Jean was dressed in her
Polynesian best, and she really got
into the spirit of things.

The stars of the show were the
genuine natives, probably all from
the San Diego area, who showed
us how it was done in the South
Seas.
l22
Still in San Diego, we had to visit number one son, Da-
vid, and his family.
And of course, Jean had
to hold her new great-grand-
son, Joshua, shown here
with David. David, by that
time, was too big to be held
in his mothers arms, but
there was a time when he
was a little as the GGS was.
This was after the fre when Nadine was pictured with
the Governator, Arnold, who was holding great-grandson
Dylan at the scene of their burned out house. At the time of
our visit, Ron, Nadine and kids were on a trip through our
part of the country, and we missed them completely.
A trip to the scene of
the fre, and the subsequent
new house construction was
in order. And to the right
is a picture of the house
under construction, bigger
and better than before. We
toured the house and then
went back to Davids house
where we spent time with the family. Makayla was run-
ning in and out trying to tease grandpa David, and acting
impish as shown in the picture to the right.
David was enjoying every moment of it.
The newlyweds, Guy and Gina were there,
looking very comfortable with each other
and with the family. Dinner was served
to the whole family, including two of the
guests whom were being taken care of by
David and Julia.
On to Sacramento
On October 4 we left our beautiful hotel, brought our
rental car back to the rental agency, boarded an aircraft and
few down to Sacramento to visit Jim, Mary and Leo. We
were met at he airport and
chauffeured to their beau-
tiful home. It did not take
long to understand the
family structure. Jim and
Mary lived in the home,
but Leo was the undis-
puted boss and defender
of the house. Leo was
completely secure of his
place in the family and was able to welcome visitors with-
out fear. (He had not heard from Aspen about who was the
Alpha Dog) Jimmy, son
of Jim and grandson of
Jean, visited and a good
time was had by all.
The next day Jim
drove us to Nevada, CA
to visit an old gold min-
ing town which was very
active in the California
gold rush of the 1850s. One interesting site there was the
method they had of extracting materi-
als from the sides of cliffs. A very
powerful hose system used hydraulic
pressure to dislodge the dirt and ob-
tain the gold. The picture shows the
results of this method.
While there we had dinner in the
National Hotel, which is surrounded
by tourist attractions. A good time was had by all visiting
the relics of bygone days of passion and gold rush fever.
We enjoyed many hours of fun with family and dawg, eh I
mean Leo, and a tour of Sacramento with all of its historic
sites. But this too had to come to an end, and on October
6 we boarded another aluminum bird to fy back to Tulsa.
Jim, Mary and Leo stood standing outside of their home in
a beautiful Norman Rockwell pose before taking us to the
airport.
l23
There are bitter sweet moments in life and this is one.
Sweet because my little girl (Granddaughter) is going to
be married into a wonderful family; bitter because I will
not be able to buy her a teddy bear for $15 while telling
her grandmother that it only cost $5 (guesses on the cost)
to assure that she would not have to return it. Sad, because
my little girl is now grown up; glad because she has grown
up into such a wonderful young lady. Proud, because she
represents the best of the United States and of the Navajo
Nation. This is a wedding I had to go to, even if it meant
that I would have to travel part of the distance in a wheel-
chair.
On July 29, 2008 we called Travelocity and purchased
Delta airline tickets to, hotel reservations in, and a rental
auto in Durango, Colorado. On October 7 we took off from
Tulsa to Denver, and for the frst time I had to travel from
one terminal to another (they were far apart) in Tulsa and
Denver in a wheel chair. Jean was frantically keeping up
with us and not complaining about not getting to the Mall
to walk today. We arrived in Durango and rented a small
size SUV since we had to travel on some mountain roads.
We followed the signs and arrived in Durango, looked
around a bit, then started to search for the Hotel. I thought
that I knew where it was located and after many miles of
searching in unknown territory, with Jean being saintly
quiet, I fnally asked her if she knew where it was located.
Naturally she did, and in a matter of minutes we were at the
hotel, checked in and had our room organized. I still cant
tell my left from my right.
The next morning we ate breakfast, looked around
town a bit, and purchased the necessary survival items
for defense against the bugs in the mountains. We bought
some bottled water, insect spray, large hand wipes and other
items that local mountain experts suggested that we have.
Then we headed in the direction of the mountain where
the wedding was going to be held. We actually found the
roads and soon saw signs signifying with arrows (Indian,
of course) where the wedding site was located. Up narrow
winding roads we drove our little SUV and arrived at the
wedding site. I turned the SUV around so that we would be
facing downhill. There were few cars around at this time
and we parked on the side of the road.
The mountains all around were beautiful and the fat
area on the top of this small mountain was very nice with
chairs, tables for food, an outhouse for after food, the
Pastor, Rev. Glen King, the Pastor of the Durango Faith
Fellowship, who was soon to be Deanas father-in-law, and
his three sons, Grady- the groom and husband for Deana
and Gradys two younger brothers, Riley and Jordy. Deana,
the Bride, being Navajo was still on Navajo time and did
not show up until sometime after the scheduled time for
the ceremony. Steve, Mary, Connie and Sally soon arrived
and parked further down the road from our parking place.
Steve, Mary and Sally (the canine) got out of the car and
started walking toward the wedding site, leaving Connie
in the car. I was outside the car and a reasonable distance
away to avoid scaring her, as we had not seen each other
for about ten years because of our divorce, and our last
meeting was most unpleasant. She opened the back right
door and was talking as if Steve and Mary (and dawg) were
still close by. I then said Hello Connie and she looked
at me and started shaking, and then crying. A few years
ago we had exchanged letters of mutual forgiveness and all
that was distasteful for both of us was now gone, although
I am sure that it was not forgotten. I do not know if she
remembered the good and the bad, or just the bad. I could
remember the good and the bad, and understood the anger
which was often within her. I went over to her, hugged
her and told her, Its all right and I still love you. She
answered softly, I know you do. She quickly regained
her composure, put on a happy face, and we both headed to
the wedding site and Connie met Jean. Jean was a little ap-
prehensive about this meeting since she did not know what
to expect, but both of them met, accepted each other with
gladness, and got along very well. When they sat down,
they left a seat between them for me. There I was, between
my former and my present wife. A little shower came
along and I held an umbrella for Connie, and Jean held her
own.
Steve looked handsome
in his dress uniform, al-
though he did not bring his
offcial sword. He could
have walked behind Deana
and Grady to assure that
the wedding took place. It
would have looked much
better than a shotgun. No!
She wasnt!!! Mary was
also beautiful and witty, and
Sally was Sally.
As many of the persons at the ceremony were from
Deanas family and friends, we had a large number of
The Date; 08/08/08 - The Place: A Mountain Top Chapel near Durango, Colorado
The Event: The Marriage of Granddaughter Deana Keller to Grady King
Connie Simmonds & Jean Keller Steve Keller - below
l24
Navajo present. I knew many of them from visits to Monu-
ment Valley and other places where I had met the family.
There were more women and children than men there, the
men probably had to stay home and work.
Finally Deana arrived, dressed in her wedding dress
which she had purchased from China. She was preceded by
three bridesmaids all dressed in blue and one little boy and
one little girl; he, dressed in a black formal suit, and she
in a pretty white dress. Deanas mother, Lucy, had joined
Deana and was walking with her on the way to the wedding
area. I took a couple of pictures of Deana and Lucy as they
approached the location where I was standing.
There I stood,
with my camera,
my cane and
my hat when
Deana asked me
Grandpa, will
you walk me
down the aisle?
I gave my cane
to someone
nearby, my
camera to another, and my hat to another, and took her arm
and gladly walked my little girl down the aisle. Someone
took a picture of us two with my camera as we were walk-
ing down the aisle and they didnt even say smile. I
believe that we were both overcome with emotion because
I was certainly not feeling sad about standing in for my son,
David, who was there, but not in body.
We walked down the aisle to a position near the await-
ing pastor, her intended and her two future brothers-in-law.
The pastor asked Who, gives this woman to be married?
Lucy did say I do, and maybe I did also. I then handed
Deana over to Grady. My job was done
The pastor said his words, Deana and Grady said I
will and another marriage made in heaven was sealed on
earth.
After the ceremony was over, Connie brought me over
to sign the book or a document that looked offcial and
had a place for each of our signatures as grandparents, so I
signed. We were circulating and talking to people all over
the place as the food was being prepared. At one time
Connie was close by when I was talking to someone and
happened to mention that I was an engineer, and a fairly
Patiently waiting for them at the brown mat, which
symbolized the front of this great outdoor church, were the
Pastor, her groom, and her two future brothers-in-law.
l25
good one too. Connie broke in and said You were a world
class engineer!!!!! Another time I mentioned that I try to
be generous and Connie said You are the most generous
person I have ever known!!!! What surprises these were,
compared to over ten years ago. Time wounds all heels
or is it time heals all wounds?
We walked and talked and ate and fnally we were ready
to leave, but not too many persons had left yet. Steves car
was a bit down the road and almost in the clear but our car
was up closer and
had cars on all sides
of it on a slope of
the mountain. Steve,
of Indianapolis 500
fame, who could get
from point A to point
B by sometimes
fying over obstacles
which were in the
way, surveyed the
terrain and the
clearances and said
I sure am glad you
have a little SUV, and
I think I can get you
out. OK, Steve usu-
ally can do what he
says he can do, and
even do it better than
I can. So Steve and
Jean were in the front
with Steve driving.
Connie and I were in
the back with me on the driver side. Mary and Sally were
safely walking down to their car.
Driver start your engine. The space in front of us, a
little to one side, had about minus two inches to spare, but
it was the only game in town. The engine revved and I
thought Well, well only have to pay for another car or two
at the worst as we went forward at warp speed. We made
it past the frst space and came to a second space which
looked even worse, and Steve grinned and headed for
it. Wow, he made it past that obstacle and headed for the
next. Connie, in order to cheer up the atmosphere, started
screaming at the top of her voice with a constant (Connies
constant) volume and endurance which caused me to think
that she must have four lungs. She was hanging on to the
arm rest with a death grip. Jean, in front, also had a gentle
grip on the arm rest, but not wanting to compete with
Connie, was very quiet and ladylike. I was at peace since
I had already gone through eleven and one half months of
combat. And this wasnt much different.
Well, Steve had a wild look and a grin on his face as he
maneuvered the car between the other cars on the slope of
the mountain, sometimes on two or three wheels and I do
believe actually leaving the ground a few times. Thanks
be to God, we landed safely on the road with not a dent or
paint scratch on any car. Steve went to open the car door
for his mother, but couldnt do it. Connie had a death grip
on the door and it took a little time to loosen up. So she
left my life again, but this time she was shaken and stirred,
not like James Bond orders his drinks. I assumed the posi-
tion in the drivers seat with Jean in the passenger position
- and we gently went back to Durango to prepare for our
trip home. The rest of the trip was uneventful and I had my
second long ride, one in Denver and the other in Tulsa, in a
wheel chair. We had a nice fight home and the safety and
sanity of our own bed. A good time was had by all.
It should be noted that Jean is still the champion of the
beautiful voice sung loudly contest. In December 2009 our
Toyota Minivan experienced unexpected rapid accelera-
tion while parking at the mall, causing a collision with a
parked Toyota. The speed at which the two cars collided
was not very high because we were not more than about
four feet away from the other car at the time of the start of
the acceleration, so the car did not have enough distance
to develop a high speed. It did push the other car about
twenty-fve feet into the aisle between parking spaces. We
were not hurt. But Jean, in her beautiful soprano voice did
emit a cascade of notes which I believe exceeded the vol-
ume and fervor of those which Connie emitted. Jean was
much more ladylike in her presentation, and with tender
loving care she soon returned to her usual beautiful and
melodious voice.
Jean and Mary Keller
Lucy and Jean with Connie in the middle
And here is Sally!!!!!
l26
Overview - Medical Adventures
I had the usual childhood diseases and stuck a nail in my
foot more than once, but other than that my sicknesses were
speed bumps on the road of life. While in the Air Force, I
did have some problems with my feet; they were too big,
size 13 when I was younger, size 15 now. I once was over
six foot two and one-half inches tall, but now am fve foot
eleven inches. So part of my legs must have gone horizon-
tally. What other explanation can there be?
While in the Air Force, I completed my combat duty
honorable, but was not wounded. However, my best friend,
Gerry, died as well as the two crews which replaced us in
Japan. So I had survivors guilt from not receiving a
scratch while others gave their all. Perhaps that is why I
volunteered for one more perilous act. In September, 1952,
at Fairchild AFB in Spokane, Washington, I requested that
I be circumcised. Even though this was a minor operation
for me, it was not for a friend who had the same operation
at the same time. Before I went under, I told the nurse,
dont cut off too much, I dont have any to spare. She an-
swered in her most professional tone, Dont worry, well
leave you enough for you to get in trouble.
The operation went well, and after the anesthesia wore
off, for the frst time while I was in the Air Force, I felt
real pain! And the most painful hurt of all, they would not
award me the Purple Heart to add to my other combat rib-
bons.
Some may think that the above is naughty, too much in-
formation, not dignifed, etc., etc., etc. Have you ever been
asked, Cant you ever be serious? I cant, and at age
78 I still refuse to be serious, unless there is a very good
reason. Why? Because life in this world is too short not to
have humor. I have had Hairy Cell Leukemia since 1965,
and maybe before, because that is the frst time anemic
blood was detected during a blood test. I worried, I cried,
I did my best to make things better for those for whom I
had responsibility, and still lived after the doctor gave me
only fve months. Over a period of years I have learned to
trust God, well most of the time, and enjoy the gift of life
that has been entrusted to me. No, I am not a saint, just a
person who has been trained to think like an engineer and
analyze everything, except my wife. And to accept life as it
is, not as I would like it to be.
So, in this accounting of my Medical Adventures
you will fnd that I will try to bring humor into the most
unlikely places and accept each adventure as such, not as a
tragedy. So - on with the show.
The principle player in this saga is Hairy Cell Leuke-
mia. I was initially diagnosed with Hemolytic anemia
secondary to lymphosarcoma with splenomegaly and hyper
splenism. This resulted in my receiving a death sentence
of about fve months. This diagnosis proved to be incorrect
and a Dr. Rembe in Albuquerque said it was hairy cell leu-
kemia (HCL) and I should have a few years. It was neces-
sary to remove my spleen and this was done on September
19, 1969. There was much improvement in my health.
On April 26,1986 I went to M.D. Anderson to take part
in testing for alpha interferon as a chemotherapy for HCL.
On January 18, 1988 I benefted from my participation
in that testing and started taking alpha interferon which
bought me time until October 4, 1993 when cladribine
(2CdA) was available and I had fve and one-half years
free of the Leukemia. Afterwards came three more uses
of cladribine, all of them in Tulsa, and one treatment with
pentostatin which provided remission for about three years
and three months. During the time of these injections there
were side effects and other problems such as platelet count
drop and infections.
I had chickenpox as a child, shingles in April of 2001
and another case of chickenpox in December 2004. Would
this be considered a shingles sandwich?
The last treatment tried was with pentostatin again, on
November 8, 2008, and this time one infusion kicked me
like a mule. The side effects were very bad and interfered
with other medical problems which were needing solutions,
but that we were unable to attend to because of the severity
of the side effects. These side effects could last up to a year.
The biggest problem that I have is growing old, at 80
years now and counting. Then, why is the title of this part
of my autobiography called Medical Adventures? It is a
choice. Much more in Coping with Medical Adventures.
You and I have a choice. I could wallow in self-pity
and feel sorry for myself, or I can grasp onto what is good,
handle what is bad and thank God for the gift of life that
He has given me. I can also quit judging people and start
enjoying others like God wants me to. Even in the worst
person, it is possible to fnd a spark of goodness, and it is
for me to try and fnd that spark and enjoy it. No, it is not
easy and I fall fat on my butt often, but every day it gets a
bit easier. In
the meantime
I shall put on
the full armor
of God so that
I can take my
stand against
the devils
schemes. I
choose to
rejoice in all
things.
I couldnt fnd
the armor, so
I got the arms
instead.
l27
I do not know what to do,
I dont know what to think,
I sat down to write a check
And my toe isnt even pink.
I thought that if I wrote a check
That it would be so nifty,
Then, a voice came to me and said-
Write two hundred and ffty!!!!!!!!!!!
A command is a command,
But was that just my voice?
I just cannot fght the urge,
I do not have a choice.
My Un-Pink Toe
My Pink Toe is going to follow. But the Good Book says The last shall be frst and the frst shall be last. So in obedi-
ence to the Good Book, My Un-Pink Toe which took place after My Pink Toe shall proceed the earlier event. Also,
this is due to my laziness and the fact that this space was available previous to the earlier event, which proceeds the later
event. I hope you are suffciently confused, now, as am I - so I will now place words upon this page, after I give you a
little background. The person who has the voice is my Heavenly Father, or so I believe - well enough to expend money
or accomplish deeds. David is the Rev. David Mewbourne, whom you will learn about in the following true story which
took place a while back. Debbie, Davids wife, is an Angel in Oncology whom I have known for many years and love
dearly. The little poem accompanied a donation to Davids discretionary fund to which I enjoy giving. When the money
gets to Davids church there, at that time, there is usually someone in trouble who needs help; just as God implied when I
received the urge to send a donation.
Maybe its HIM, maybe not-
But to David this will go.
And he knows the One above,
The One who showers us with love.
And I am sure that HE will show -
Brother David how to spend
In such a beautiful way
That He will bring joy to some
On a blessed Christmas Day.
In Gods Love,
M. Dean Keller,
December 18, 2006
We both enjoy the Brits as they portray
The saga of love gone wrong in their youth.
Only to be born again in later life
To emphasize the beauty of Gods truth.
For although the stories are far from ours,
A link can be seen in their strife -
A young airman off to Korea- to war,
A young lady who started her family, her life.
Decades passed and both
Had families, and work and play.
They had their share of pleasure and pain
And made their contributions every day.
He, in his work as an engineer
Set standards for others to see.
She, as a mother and a leader
Would lead her peers; saying follow me!
Both would win acclaim for their work,
Both were known in their states and afar.
Both would persevere under hardship.
Although hardship their joy would sometimes mar.
God had His special plans for these two
After spouses were gone, He would not let them fall
Delicately He directed and guided them.
And placed them both at the Woodland Hills Mall.
She was talking to the old war dogs
Who sat on the level above-
She wore a big smile and after a while,
He asked himself, is this love?
She left her friends on the higher level
And went to her table below.
And an old puppy dog broken and bent
Said This is the one, I know.
He sat with her and her friends,
Drank coffee and had a feeling of bliss.
She had to leave, so he walked her to the door,
And on her hand he placed a kiss.
This is the start, but not the end
For God works in mysterious ways,
And He has ordained that theyll be together
For all of the rest of their days.
As Time Goes By (A British TV series about a couple who wed late in life)
l28
The Lord Works In Mysterious Ways His Wonders To Perform.
or
My Pink Toe
I have had leukemia for over forty years, and extensive medical problems and chemotherapy treatments for many
months. Some of these problems have been medical emergencies, and I have been rather stoic through most of them. As
an example, one weekend I noticed petechiae (little red dots) on my leg at night time, and the next morning noticed that
my eyes were blood shot. So my wife and I went over to the Cancer Center where I told Dr Panickers nurse, Debbie,
I think I have a problem. Then came the blood test, the results (platelets less than 10k) which means that I could start
bleeding internally, and quickly off to the hospital to have a platelet transfusion and massive doses of prednisone. I was
unconcerned.
But one morning, December 12, 2005, I was putting on my socks when I noticed that my big toe on my left foot was
pink on the bottom. I checked my eyes and saw no sign of bleeding, and checked my legs for petechiae, but none were
there. I was taking a shot, Lovenox, (I told my oncologist, who is Hindu, It would take a Hindu to love an ox - which
he thought very clever) every evening about 5:00 pm as a blood thinner. I thought that I must be bleeding due to side ef-
fects from the blood thinner, but only through my big toe? This is the closest that I have come to panic in many a year. I
went over to the Cancer Center and had a blood test conducted. My platelets were at 157k, which is way above the danger
zone, and I felt better. Then Debbie, took me into a room, examined my big toe, and cleaned it for me. She stated that it
did not look like blood, and using peroxide, alcohol, and soap, she cleaned much of the pink off, wrapped the toe in gauze,
and told me to come back if it continued to give me a problem. This was very much like Jesus washing the feet of the
apostles, and I felt blessed and much relieved. During this time we had a nice conversation, and I promised to bring her a
copy of one my latest essays, Forgiveness.
Later that day I reviewed my actions of the day before I had the pink toe, and came to what I considered a cause, a
rather embarrassing cause. The morning before the discovery of the pink toe, I dropped a vitamin capsule while taking
my medicines in the morning. It was Vitamin A, Beta Carotene, a reddish looking small capsule designed to melt and
release its contents when subjected to body heat- even foot heat.
Realizing what had happened I prepared a package for Debbie. In it were the essay and a letter to Debbie, asking her
to give an enclosed envelope to her husband, David, who was an Assembly of God minister. In that envelope was a letter
which told him what a wonderful wife he had, a poem, My Pink Toe, which explained my latest adventure, and, as an
afterthought, a couple of hundred dollar bills for anyone whom he would know who needed a helping hand.
Time passed and I received a letter from David. In it he told of a man who left Texas with his family after he lost his
job, to fll a promised job in Oklahoma. Friday night this man called David stating that his car had broken down in South
Tulsa, and he didnt know anyone else to call. He and his family went to Davids church since arriving fve months ago.
David and his son and his sons cousin went in one of the churchs vans to pick up the family and tow the car to a mechan-
ic from Davids church.
Debbie gave the envelope to David the next day, Saturday evening, after he was wondering what could be done to help
this person who did not have any money to fx the car. The two hundred dollars were the start of a solution.
Over that weekend I was puzzled, thinking that something was left undone. So I sent a letter to David at the church
with a donation of $200 (in time to take it off of my income tax for CY 2005) and a note that I thought that the job was not
fnished yet.
A letter came back from David with the rest of the story. Two members of the church had donated another $200, and
the mechanic donated his labor, and they were short, guess how much? $200. David was planning to take this out of the
church funds when my check arrived.
David was blessed, I was blessed, the family with the broken car was blessed, and it all started with a vitamin pill
which fell out of its container.
The Lord works in mysterious ways His wonders to perform.
From the dropped pink pill, to the pink toe, to the panic, to the blood test, to the wonderful angel in oncology, to the
letter, to the return letter, to the feeling that the job was not done yet, to the mailed in donation, and then to the rest of the
story.
And, He knows how to keep track of debits and credits too.
l29
Fax
Name: Tito Razdan, M. D. STAT
Organization: Springer Clinics Main Facility
Fax: (918) 497 3051
From: M. Dean Keller
Address: 10608 E. 100th Place Tulsa, OK 74133
Date: December 12, 2005
Subject: Pink Toe
Phone: (918) 250 5658 FAX and voice. If not answer call Cell 645 8955
Pages: 1
Dear Dr. Razdan:
I have been on Lovenox for 28 days, 150 MG/day, by injection in belly. My platelet count has remained about 150K for
the last two months. My HGB was 11.6 on 11/14/05, at the start of the Levonox injections. It was 10.9 on 12/01/05 after
18 days of Lovenox. I am scheduled for a blood test Dec 15th.
This morning I noticed that the bottom of the big toe on my right foot was pink. This evening the pink area had spread
up to the end of the toenail, and halfway up the toe, leaving the top of the toe the natural color. It left a little pink discol-
oration in the sock that I wore on my left foot, which I removed about 3:00 PM. This evening I noticed a pink color on
the fr lining, toe area, of my slippers. This pink can be wiped with an alcohol prep pad or a gauze pad, turning these pads
pink, but the toe remains pink.
It appears that blood is seeping through my skin, big toe only, left foot. I called the cancer center emergency number, and
the doctor on call told me to call you Tuesday morning. Please advise me what action I should take. Cell Phone 645 8955
if I cannot be reached at 250 5658.
I am sending an information copy of this fax to Dr. Panicker.
Very truly yours,
M. Dean Keller
Hi Debbie,
I am enclosing my latest revision on Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors which has a few additions, mostly
on the back page. I am also enclosing Gods Love and Truth as I do not know if I had given them to you before.
The pink toe is behaving itself, and I do appreciate the beautiful way you helped me with this problem. I am in your debt.
I also have a letter for Rev. David Mewbourne, I believe you know him, with a little information that I wanted to pass on
to him. Please give it to him.
In Gods Love,
Dean
l30
M. Dean and Jean F. Keller
10608 East 100th Place
Tulsa, Oklahoma 74133-5112
December 15, 2005
Dear Brother David,
I know that when I tell you that your Debbie is an Angel in Oncology, you will not consider it news. She has been
working with me for about six years through three chemotherapy treatments, three platelet crashes and two hospital treat-
ments. On one of these visits to the hospital I wrote the Poem Angels in Oncology, which was well received by the
Angels at St. Francis Hospital. Debbie has a copy, and it sure applies to her as well. I dont know if she brings work
home with her, so I am enclosing a copy for you. I am also enclosing a poem My Pink Toe which she did not see as yet,
but she was the main participant when this old man let a little pink toe get the best of him. Usually, I am rather stoic about
these items, since I have had this leukemia for over 40 years, and my faith in my Creator is good. She does not know the
fnal outcome of the problem, so tell her the poem is for your and her eyes only; she wouldnt want to embarrass an old
man, would she?
Most of all she has had to put up with an ornery old goat, who happens to be a tongue speaking, non-fundamentalist
Episcopalian, and she does it with beauty and grace. I am blessed to have her on my medical team.
Knowing that Collinsville has some people in need and that you possibly know some of these people, I am enclosing a
few dollars for you to give to whomever the spirit leads you to.
In Gods Love,
M. Dean Keller
My Pink Toe .
The Lord works in mysterious ways
My blunders to conceal.
He does His wonders in spite of me,
This I must reveal.
He allowed my toe to turn bright pink,
First on the bottom, then on the side.
I did not know what to think,
I thought, I was bleeding inside.
Oh toe! Big toe.
Toe on my left side,
What wonders did you hide from me,
From apprehension, I could not hide.
My DVT was on the right,
What was I to say.
Could Lovenox jump across?
Was bleeding there to stay?
I Faxed my doctor of my problem,
The Fax was marked STAT,
I did not know what was happening
Could it be this, could it be that?
So down to Sarah, after some delay,
A blood test was procured.
Everything was looking good,
I felt a bit assured.
Than Debbie took me by the hand,
As comforting as she could be,
She examined my big pink toe,
Then, she was Christ to me.
She cleaned my foot, took off the stain
With alcohol, peroxide and soap.
My fesh returned to fesh color,
and now I had some hope.
She said it did not look like blood,
I knew that she did care.
She bandaged my toe, and comforted me,
I felt that Jesus was there.
Just watch it for a day or two,
It should not come again,
My spirits lifted, my heart was full,
There was joy instead of pain.
Oh, Angel in Oncology
With Dr. Panicker looking on,
I gave her a twirl, a little dance,
I felt I was reborn.
I left the offce on cloud nine,
Still wondering what the cause
Of my toe turning pink,
The toe now wrapped in gauze.
But, latter on, the engineer in me,
Started to analyze..
What were the causes of this mystery,
Were they the devils lies?
And deep within my mind
The engineer started to think..
What happened before this event
That turned my big toe pink.
And slowly the thoughts started to shape,
A possible series of events,
I cant be sure that this is correct,
But it does make some sort of sense.
I took my medicine in the morning
One pill got away,
I couldnt fnd it anywhere,
It was Beta Carotene, Vitamin A.
I replaced it, it could have dropped
Into my moccasin, it was sort of red.
I wore the moccasins again that night
Before I went to bed.
Next morning I had the big pink toe
With red at the toe of my shoe,
Could that little pill have been the cause?
Oh I wish I really knew.
But it sounds so logical that I do believe
That it could have happened that way.
I am so sorry for the trouble I caused
But what am I to say?
I called for help, and help I found
That came from heaven above.
From all the angels at Cancer Care
I found my Fathers love.
M. Dean Keller
l3l
Fax
Name: Tito Razdan, M. D. STAT
Organization: Springer Clinics Main Facility
Fax: (918) 497 3051
From: M. Dean Keller
Address: 10608 E. 100th Place Tulsa, OK 74133
Date: December 12, 2005
Subject: Pink Toe
Phone: (918) 250 5658 FAX and voice. If not answer call Cell 645 8955
Pages: 1
Dear Dr. Razdan:
I have been on Lovenox for 28 days, 150 MG/day, by injection in belly. My platelet count has remained about 150K for
the last two months. My HGB was 11.6 on 11/14/05, at the start of the Levonox injections. It was 10.9 on 12/01/05 after
18 days of Lovenox. I am scheduled for a blood test Dec 15th.
This morning I noticed that the bottom of the big toe on my right foot was pink. This evening the pink area had spread
up to the end of the toenail, and halfway up the toe, leaving the top of the toe the natural color. It left a little pink discol-
oration in the sock that I wore on my left foot, which I removed about 3:00 PM. This evening I noticed a pink color on
the fr lining, toe area, of my slippers. This pink can be wiped with an alcohol prep pad or a gauze pad, turning these pads
pink, but the toe remains pink.
It appears that blood is seeping through my skin, big toe only, left foot. I called the cancer center emergency number, and
the doctor on call told me to call you Tuesday morning. Please advise me what action I should take. Cell Phone 645 8955
if I cannot be reached at 250 5658.
I am sending an information copy of this fax to Dr. Panicker.
Very truly yours,
M. Dean Keller
Hi Debbie,
I am enclosing my latest revision on Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors which has a few additions, mostly
on the back page. I am also enclosing Gods Love and Truth as I do not know if I had given them to you before.
The pink toe is behaving itself, and I do appreciate the beautiful way you helped me with this problem. I am in your debt.
I also have a letter for Rev. David Mewbourne, I believe you know him, with a little information that I wanted to pass on
to him. Please give it to him.
In Gods Love,
Dean
l32
M. Dean and Jean F. Keller
10608 East 100th Place
Tulsa, Oklahoma 74133-5112
December 15, 2005
Dear Brother David,
I know that when I tell you that your Debbie is an Angel in Oncology, you will not consider it news. She has been
working with me for about six years through three chemotherapy treatments, three platelet crashes and two hospital treat-
ments. On one of these visits to the hospital I wrote the Poem Angels in Oncology, which was well received by the
Angels at St. Francis Hospital. Debbie has a copy, and it sure applies to her as well. I dont know if she brings work
home with her, so I am enclosing a copy for you. I am also enclosing a poem My Pink Toe which she did not see as yet,
but she was the main participant when this old man let a little pink toe get the best of him. Usually, I am rather stoic about
these items, since I have had this leukemia for over 40 years, and my faith in my Creator is good. She does not know the
fnal outcome of the problem, so tell her the poem is for your and her eyes only; she wouldnt want to embarrass an old
man, would she?
Most of all she has had to put up with an ornery old goat, who happens to be a tongue speaking, non-fundamentalist
Episcopalian, and she does it with beauty and grace. I am blessed to have her on my medical team.
Knowing that Collinsville has some people in need and that you possibly know some of these people, I am enclosing a
few dollars for you to give to whomever the spirit leads you to.
In Gods Love,
M. Dean Keller
My Pink Toe .
The Lord works in mysterious ways
My blunders to conceal.
He does His wonders in spite of me,
This I must reveal.
He allowed my toe to turn bright pink,
First on the bottom, then on the side.
I did not know what to think,
I thought, I was bleeding inside.
Oh toe! Big toe.
Toe on my left side,
What wonders did you hide from me,
From apprehension, I could not hide.
My DVT was on the right,
What was I to say.
Could Lovenox jump across?
Was bleeding there to stay?
I Faxed my doctor of my problem,
The Fax was marked STAT,
I did not know what was happening
Could it be this, could it be that?
So down to Sarah, after some delay,
A blood test was procured.
Everything was looking good,
I felt a bit assured.
Than Debbie took me by the hand,
As comforting as she could be,
She examined my big pink toe,
Then, she was Christ to me.
She cleaned my foot, took off the stain
With alcohol, peroxide and soap.
My fesh returned to fesh color,
and now I had some hope.
She said it did not look like blood,
I knew that she did care.
She bandaged my toe, and comforted me,
I felt that Jesus was there.
Just watch it for a day or two,
It should not come again,
My spirits lifted, my heart was full,
There was joy instead of pain.
Oh, Angel in Oncology
With Dr. Panicker looking on,
I gave her a twirl, a little dance,
I felt I was reborn.
I left the offce on cloud nine,
Still wondering what the cause
Of my toe turning pink,
The toe now wrapped in gauze.
But, latter on, the engineer in me,
Started to analyze..
What were the causes of this mystery,
Were they the devils lies?
And deep within my mind
The engineer started to think..
What happened before this event
That turned my big toe pink.
And slowly the thoughts started to shape,
A possible series of events,
I cant be sure that this is correct,
But it does make some sort of sense.
I took my medicine in the morning
One pill got away,
I couldnt fnd it anywhere,
It was Beta Carotene, Vitamin A.
I replaced it, it could have dropped
Into my moccasin, it was sort of red.
I wore the moccasins again that night
Before I went to bed.
Next morning I had the big pink toe
With red at the toe of my shoe,
Could that little pill have been the cause?
Oh I wish I really knew.
But it sounds so logical that I do believe
That it could have happened that way.
I am so sorry for the trouble I caused
But what am I to say?
I called for help, and help I found
That came from heaven above.
From all the angels at Cancer Care
I found my Fathers love.
M. Dean Keller
l33
l34
l35
THE ANGELS IN ONCOLOGY
My joy in the Lord is in you,
For you have been Christ to me
You come to serve
And do not ask who or what am I.
You serve and smile, and do your task,
You smile, and sometimes cry.
For some of us will leave and live,
But some of us will die.
So you must see beyond the Veil,
That hides from us below,
The Love and Joy in Gods dimension,
His Spirit, that makes us grow.
That lets us see a body healed,
To return to do His will on earth,
Or lets you see a soul released
To join the splendor of eternal worth.
For God allows us each to serve
Some so little, yet, you so much.
For God uses each of us
To be His voice, to be His touch.
For God is with us in eternity,
And God is with us here in time.
To fll with love each hour, day,
To fll with Joy each soul divine.
And when we leave your sphere of service,
To serve our brothers here in time,
Or join those who have gone before-
We know the bells of heaven will chime
As the Angels read the proclamation
That proclaims His Love to you below,
Well done good and faithful servants,
Your service there makes Heaven glow.
AMEN
M. Dean Keller, patient
7 West Oncology
Saint Francis Hospital, Tulsa, OK
4:00 AM 12 December 2004
On December 12, 2004, I was in a room in St. Francis Hospital with an IV in my arm. That made it a little awkward ,
since I had to take my companion with me wherever I went. And with the IV pouring antibiotic and anti viral medica-
tion into my veins 24 hours per day, my companion and I made numerous trips to the rest room, but not to rest. Walking
around the ward I would softly sing to my companion Gee, but its great after staying out late, walking my baby back
home. Whenever I walked by, there was always a smile. There was love in the midst of suffering.
===============================================================================================
l36
Some of the contents of this will be diffcult for a person
who has not experienced these problems to understand. Just
speed read past the parts which are confusing and enjoy the
enjoyable parts. After a few years of traveling and having
fun, it was decided by a higher power that I should have
time to refect. So, after returning from Charleston, Day-
ton, Laughlin, Branson, Nashville, New York, Philadelphia,
New London, Boston, San Diego, Sacramento, etc., not
necessarily in that order, it was decided that I should go
from emergency room, to doctor, to x-ray, to cat scan, to
MRI, to pet scan, to cancer center, to hospital, to etc, etc,
etc. At the start of this new adventure I was determined to
enjoy my new adventure. At that time a change came into
my life. This is a choice which anyone can make, and with
Gods help, can put into practice. No longer was chemo-
therapy a treatment, but an adventure.
This new attitude of seeing every moment in life not as
a joy or sorrow, not as pleasure or pain, but as an adventure
given to us by our Creator with His (there I go again Him/
Her) full knowledge and blessing. This adventure is similar
to a habit. When we do something over and over again,
it becomes a habit, and the sum of our habits is often our
character. So it is true with our relationship with life and
our Creator. What our Creator allows in our life is a gift to
us, what we do with that gift is our gift to Him.
Well, I had a lot to enjoy. Starting on October 9, 2004
we went to Urgent Care and found that my platelet count
had dropped to 5000. Anything below 20,000 is considered
unacceptable and one could start bleeding without even
trying. So, we started off this adventure with fve platelet
transfusions. Since I had gone through this scenario in
1999, I was the only one unconcerned about the problem.
At the Urgent Care center I was given a prescription for
30 mg/day prednisone. Checking my records for 1999,
this was increased to 100 mg/day by Debbie, my oncology
nurse, who quickly took charge, and helped by my previous
experience, had this problem out of the danger zone in a
couple of weeks.
A bone marrow biopsy taken on November 1 was posi-
tive; my hairy cell leukemia had returned. The doctor who
performed this procedure was Virginia Burdine, a beauti-
ful young lady. They originally had me set up to go under
a general anesthesia - but I objected. I only need a local
for this type of procedure. So a local was administered.
While the bone marrow was underway, a nurse came into
the room with a question for Dr. Burdine. It was Whatll
I do...? I immediately broke into song Whatll I do when
you are far away, and I am blue, whatll I do? Novem-
ber 8 through 16 was reserved for chemotherapy using
leustatin, the same medication I had used in 1993, 1999
and 2003. This time it was administered using two injec-
tions in the stomach area, each day for seven days. The
times between recurrences of the leukemia were 6 years,
4 years and 1 year. So, it was obvious that the leukemia
was developing a resistance to this chemotherapy. Then
the platelet count dropped again, but this time to 2730, the
lowest that I have ever experienced. On November 22, I
had one platelet transfusion and started 100 mg per day of
Prednisone. On November 23 my platelet count was up to
52,400- way out of danger. Who can explain it, who can
tell you why? The song goes Fools give you reasons, wise
men never try. Being a fool, I will give you a reason. On
November 16, Dr. Kris Canfeld removed a small growth
from my back. This obviously caused bleeding beneath the
skin, unseen by the eye, and required the remaining plate-
lets to forget their diminishment in number and to bravely
charge the battlefeld and eliminate the foe the bleeding.
The bone marrow was not able to replenish the number of
platelets who gave their all in the courageous battle, and the
number of platelets in the blood was diminished. A plate-
let transfusion translates to a rise in the platelet count by
70,000, thereby causing the platelet count 30 minutes after
the transfusion to register at 68,000. The next day it had
dropped to 52,400 out of danger and continued to rise
steadily after that. Until the next fall! What an adventure.

On December 10, I went to the Cancer Center because
of a fever. Dr. Panicker checked me, and sent me to St.
Francis Hospital, Ward 7 West, Oncology, where I was
hooked up to an IV for a continuous fow of antibiotic and
anti viral drugs. This was a do not pass go, do not col-
lect $100 or something, but I was allowed to go home to
pick up some necessary items like books, my computer,
etc. Dr. Rowland, a specialist in infectious diseases, was
in charge of the administering of this massive assault on
my little germs. Well, I was hooked up for about 30 hours
while nurses came in and changed the containers of anti-
biotic and anti-viral medication; very powerful medicine.
Not knowing that the IV could be disconnected, I wore the
same undershirt for the full 30 hours. A group of visitors
from the Trinity Presbyterian Church came by, including
Brad who stood at the door and sang I saw you standing
in the sun, and you were something to see, and I answered
I know what I like and I liked what I saw, and I said
to myself, thats for me. Pastor Judy was sitting there,
wondering, what is going on here? He is standing up and
singing with an IV in his arm, and a bottle of antibiotics on
a pole next to him. This was an important hospital visit for
me because I learned where the early morning coffee was,
where the ice cream was, and how to get my breakfast frst-
by standing in front of my room, whimpering like a puppy,
with a begging attitude.
On the 12 day of December my true love said to me --
no. On December 12, 2004 at about 3:00 AM, I was walk-
ing my rolling stand with my medication around the ward.
The nurses were busy, and calls from patients came into the
nurses station asking for pain medication. A friend of my
son Steve, whose name was Bob, came by to visit me. He
was a Native American with a strong Christian faith and a
wife in the same ward dying of cancer. Here I was, with no
pain, surrounded by pain and a wonderful team of nurses.
The Team in Oncology, I thought, but latter thought a bit
more and changed it to The Angels in Oncology. I sat
down and wrote the words to that poem.
Coping with Medical Adventures
l37
I submitted to the powers that be and had chemotherapy
from January 18 through January 22 with 2CdA which I
have had many times before. It was nice for an old goat
being made over by these cute young nurses; well some of
them. Then on the 28th day I am to start Retuximab every
week for eight weeks, and I have never had this one before.
It is a DNA engineered chemotherapy which attached itself
to the CD 20 protein on the hairy cell and destroys it.
The chemotherapy went well and I kept the same infu-
sion device in my arm for the whole week. This is good
because upon the initial insertion some things went wrong
and I SPILLED BLOOD!! We had a good laugh about it,
and I enjoyed the stay with my new DVD player watching
What the Bleep do We Know and some teaching lessons
about how the body heals itself and the functions of the
brain. I am now experiencing side effects from one week of
chemotherapy such as fatigue and loss of appetite. Tomor-
row I have a blood test to see the effects of the chemothera-
py on the red and white cells and the platelet count.
The blood test showed that the neutrophil count had
dropped to 0.2 and the white blood count on February 8
had dropped to 0.8. My immune system had crashed. Six
shots of Neupogen later my immune system was out of the
danger zone, but I started bleeding, even urinating blood.
Jean and I went down to the Cancer Center where I caused
a scare in the house.
So off to St. Francis Hospital, Code Blue, under the di-
rection of Dr. Razdan who had already had a room reserved
for me on 7 West, the oncology foor. There I was met by
the Angels in Oncology - and oh how beautiful they are.
But they couldnt keep their hands off of me, and I was so
weak! One angel would grab my right arm, squeeze my
muscle to see how strong I was and put some sort of pro-
tector around my arm which squeezed it hard!!! She would
then say some medical words like blood pressure.
The nurse on my left side was not just standing there;
she was trying to comfort me. She would hold my left hand
and gently pat it with her fngers. Ah!! What bliss!! And
before I knew it, there was an infusion setup ready to go.
Next they wheeled in a stand and starting hanging plastic
bottles of various sizes and colors on the stand. There was
a 2 pack of red blood cells, a 2 pack of blood plasma, a unit
of platelets and a container of Vitamin K. They turned on
the valves and let the fuids fow.
There was a little problem before all of this loving
care started. The bed in the room was short or I was too
long. These busy angels rushed around and brought me an
adequate bed, but it was not as comfortable as the one at
home. But, wow, was it complete. I believe it could give
you a haircut if you punched the right button.
For three days I endured the constant attention these
young ladies gave to me, until I learned that they could
complete their tasks without even waking me up. The food
in the hospital wasnt very tasteful but the ice cream was
available and delicious. Jean spent most of the time with
me, reading and working puzzles. My greatest puzzle is
what did I do to fnd a wonderful woman like her?
We were not at Buckingham Palace waiting for the
changing of the guard, but in Tulsa waiting breathlessly for
the changing of the color of the urine. Slowly, change took
place as I gleefully called the nurses station to tell her I
had another 1000 cc of urine for them to check. As the red
of the morning sunrise yields to the clear skies of the day -
so did the color of the urine. The many purple splotches on
my body were to stay for quite awhile. Dr. Razdan came
over and discharged me Sunday evening with some reason-
able instructions. He is really a miracle worker.
I determined the probable cause of the bleeding. I made
a mistake. The mistake was that I thought that I had made
a mistake. At my age the brain plays tricks on one. My
brain is not going to take a back seat to anyone. I place
my medication in two containers by days -Sunday through
Saturday, morning and evening. I made a mistake in that
I thought I had left out the 3 mg per day warfarin in the
week from January 31 through February 6. I looked in
those containers for those pills and my brain, having been
told that I had not placed them there refused to acknowl-
edge their presence. This is not unusual for the brain seeing
something that is not there and not seeing something that is
there. I therefor added 3 mg per day warfarin. I checked
this mathematically to be sure. It computes. With all of that
Warfarin in my system my blood became thinner and thin-
ner, until it started exiting my body. Thank you Dr Razdan
for knowing just what to do and how to do it. Thus my
warfarin adventure within my chemotherapy adventure was
started. Since all things work for good for those who love
God, I expect great results coming from these magnifcent
adventures.
On March 11, 2010, I started my last round of chemo-
therapy. This was to remove the minimal residual disease
which basically means to kill as many as you can of those
little hairy cells which had survived the previous chemo-
therapy of about a month ago, 2CdA. Rituxan, a DNA
engineered chemotherapy, was to accomplish this feat. It
consisted of two components; the frst a unit which attached
itself to the CD20 protein which is on each hairy cell, the
other a toxin which is injected into that cell. Thus, one by
one and million by million, the number of leukemia cells
is reduced in number by many orders of magnitude. It was
diffcult to fnd any trace of the disease in the body after the
use of rituxan. The difference between the bone marrow
taken in October, 2008 and the one taken after the comple-
tion of eight infusions indicated that this was accomplished.
If I were 40 years old this would have meant a long remis-
sion period after the completion of the chemotherapy, but
being 78+, I was also suffering from very tired bone mar-
row and a new adventure unfolds.
l38
The 2008 and the 2010 bone marrows both indicated
that I had early myelodysplastic syndromes (MDS) and my
blood counts did not rise after chemotherapy as they had
before. I can remember the acronym MDS by thinking
of it as Mad Dog Syndrome. This indicates that my life
expectancy is from fve minutes to fve years before I can
go home to my Father. This time can be extended, for a
while; by blood transfusions for low hemoglobin, neupogen
for a low immune system (which includes the white blood
cell count and the neutrophil count) and as a last resort, a
newly developed life-extender called vidaza. However the
2010 bone marrow showed that blasts were zero. A blast
is an immature cell which is somewhere between the stem
cell and the usual products of the stem cell, the white blood
cell, the platelet or the red blood cell. When the blasts
are zero or low in count the MDS is in an early stage and
would not need to be treated with vidaza yet.
The bone marrow was on June 24, 2010 and it indicated
that it was clear of Hairy Cells. My red count went up to
10+, but my immune system did come back so Neupo-
gen was used to give it a kick-start. It came back, then
dropped again; Neupogen in August and October to keep
it in check. My platelets were doing well at over 100k.
My red blood cells needed some help and I had a 2 pack
on 1/06/10,2/01/10 and on 2/12/10 (2 - 2-packs) due to
a mistake on my part when I accidently took too many
Warfarin.) The Neuprogen worked well But in an attempt to
improve my right knee function I had two shots of steroids.
The knee improved for a while but my platelets dropped by
40K.
Neuprogen and blood transfusions over the next year
with the red cell count going dangerous in September.
On September 22, 2010, I reported to Dr Alan M. Keller.
We got off to a very good start with M.D. Keller working
with Keller, M.D.
After studying past results we decided to try Interferon
Alpha 2b which had studies showing good results for many
patients with recurring hairy cell leukemia. In August 1982,
I was part of a study conducted by Dr. Quesada at M.D.
Anderson on Interferon, the great-grandpa of the present
chemo. I took the Interferon from January 1988 to October
2004 when 2CdA became available. That was a giant leap
forward in Chemo for HCL. Presently, we have not had an
increase in the blood counts from Alpha 2b, but it takes a
long time to work. So, we are planning on a Bone Marrow
the frst part of December, six months from the last one.
The bone marrow from one year ago, before six months
treatment with Interferon Alpha 2B, was was about 44%
infltration by Hairy Cell Leukemia; The last bone marrow
on December 7, 2011 indicted that it was about 66%, an in-
crease of about 50%. Dr. Keller MD and MD Keller were
both surprised since this was not a casual decision but was
preceded by much investigation. Dr. Alan Keller, MD then
looked for some new chemo, but could not fnd any which
could be obtained for one reason or another. So, he told me
I had one choice - which I had tried before- but he proposed
a few changes. This is a week of 2CdA with a mid week
infusion of Rituximab. This is followed by seven more
weeks, every Wednesday, of Rituximab. The 2CdA caused
my immune system to crash, my platelets to crash and for
me to get a 2 pk of blood and one unit of platelets. This is
normal for a strong chemo. The heroic measure killed the
little hairy cells, but also did in my bone marrow. So , now
I am living off of other persons blood and platelets; blood
about once every two weeks and platelets every week. I
am also very weak when my blood (HGB) is low, so at the
end of the cycle I have to strain to get out of a chair, and
tire easily.. This has benefts as well. I get to see the nurses
and techs at the Infusion Center and the Cancer Center on
Mingo. What an extended family I have!
I saw Keller, MD on July 17, 2012, at which time I was
death warmed over. He started me on 60 mg per day pred-
nisone and also started Nplate for platelet increase. I have
taken prednisone many times in the past to increase platelet
count and it works well, with some interesting side effects.
I took the large dose with little side effects except for want-
ing to work all night and join the Olympics. However, it
does take a little time to take effect.
On July 24, Michael East, who is a temporary assistant
pastor at the Trinity Presbyterian Church, came to our
house to discuss a Celebration of Life service for me in
event of my demise. I still looked like death warmed over,
and was very slow, except for a great laugh, a good sense
of humor and an understanding of what we were talking
about. Naturally, this will occur, and I appeared to be close
to that time; but no one knows when. We had a very inter-
esting discussion about theology, my life and what kind of
service Jean would appreciate. It was very enjoyable, and
much was accomplished including giving Michael three
songs he had never heard before on a stick.
I kept increasing in strength, the swelling in my body
went down, and my legs improved a little, but not enough
for me to walk without a walker. I was sitting down a few
days after that when a voice told me to turn on the radio. I
did, and the frst words coming out of the radio were You
are living on borrowed time. I accepted this and started
to get better with fewer blood transfusions required since
the start of the year. Also I feel great, but also accept that
in the long run I will die, or is it go home? I borrowed time
from God to complete my assignment on earth, whatever
it is, and when you borrow something from our Daddy, it
is wonderful, cause God does not give inferior gifts to His
children.
But, enough of this seriousness, on the last few pages
before the back cover we will have some fun and fantasy to
lighten our spirits.
I do not know what the future holds, but I know who
holds the future - so I am joyful- no matter what!
l39
It Only Takes a Spark to Get a Fire Going
A True Story
At a church Christmas party in 2005, Lise told me about a young student who was wonderfully talented and wanted
to go to college to study music, especially the oboe. This young girl could not go because it was considered impossible
for her to raise the thousand dollars necessary to complete the application for submission for the scholarship programs.
Touched, I believe by the Holy Spirit, I took fve one-hundred-dollar bills out of my wallet and gave them to Lise, and
asked, Would this help? After a few minutes of bantering she accepted the money, and the following e-mail received on
August 17, 2006 tells the rest of the story.
Update on the young oboe player you helped.
Hi good people,
I hope youve had a good summer. I was gone in Des Moines playing operas (and the family came to see me for almost
2 weeks), then we all went camping, then we all went to visit family in Los Angeles, and now were home. (Although Im
about to take off on some more trips)
But I wanted to give you an update about how my student Mary K. has been doing since the winter. This is the high
school senior who has a real talent on the oboe, but comes from a poor family whose father committed suicide.
She took all her college auditions, and ended up getting a full scholarship, including room and board for 4 years to the
second college of her choice: University of Texas, Austin. They have an extensive music department and a well-known
oboe teacher, so she was grateful that this teacher chose her to be one of her students.
She also applied to go to Interlochen Fine Arts Camp in Michigan where the best oboe teacher in the U.S. teaches. Be-
cause hes such a fne teacher, the most talented oboe students in the country try to get in to study with him, but there are
only a dozen or so openings every summer. So, this has made the oboe the most competitive instrument for which to get
into Interlochen of all the instruments in the orchestra.
Mary auditioned, and was accepted. She was assisted by a number of Tulsa Rotary Club members who learned of her
fnancial needs and donated money for her to be able to attend. (Interlochen only awards the maximum of half scholar-
ships and the cost was $5800.) Mary grew tremendously, and ended up being frst chair in one of the bands at one point.
She also worked so hard, she over-practiced and after playing non-stop too long, her mouth became numb and she had to
see a doctor. But once she gave herself a few days off, the feeling returned and she practiced not quite so much after that!
Other folks have been generous with Mary, too, in many ways, and her needs for oboe tools for college that she hasnt
been able to buy have also been provided for her.
So your initial gift last Christmas has just snowballed into all kinds of goodwill coming her way and helping her move
forward as to train to be a musician and give her joy back to the world through music. She is one grateful young lady with
all the generosity shes had come her way!
Once again, a hearty, hearty thank you for being ready to share with those who have a need. Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy. I know that as you help meet others needs, your needs, too, will in turn be met, whatever
they may be.
Love to both of you,
Lise
After all the facts, no fction, of my life from birth to very old, with all of the joys, pains, war experiences,
the pleasure of meeting the Japanese people, marriage and three boys, of whom I lost two (this was much pain)
other pleasures, professional success, bragging and crying, retirement, divorce and remarriage and fnally a
long drawn-out description of the battle of man against disease, it was thought that we should end this part of
the book with a little light hearted prose, stories and some downright foolishness to raise the spirit a bit. I hope
the following will do that.
l40
I was with a bunch of old war dogs,
just horsing around at the Woodland
Hills Mall.
When you came up with a laugh, a smile
and the thought of the day.
You did not know that I had
been praying for Someone
to Watch Over me.
Because deep down, I was a wreck. But, I know
what I like and I liked what I saw, and I said to
myself- Thats for me!
At frst you must have
thought that I was hav-
ing a party, as I followed
you back to your table.
Someone who could be
kind to the least of the
brothern.
But, soon you had to leave, to go
to the great land up north, and I
kissed your hand and waited for
you to come back. And you did..
And we walked and talked- the
Walkie-talkies, and at times even
kept in step, for we were walking
to the beat of the same drummer.
And we drank a whole lot of coffee,
and fnally went on a date to the tune
of singing waiters- they were great.
I visited you at your
house, and we talked and
ate and met the choir, and
fnally I proposed- and
you accepted- and Steve
said Thank God, I have
me a Mom e for my
dad.
And so it came to
pass, that on Febru-
ary 12, 2000 I mar-
ried the most beauti-
ful bride that I have
ever seen, and she
is just as beautiful
today.
Jean - Happy 21st Birthday, July 16, 2009
l4l
And here they are, the approval, the families and the newlyweds, ready to start a new
life together and enjoy the wonderful world that God has given them.
We traveled & traveled & traveled.
Met a lot of interesting people.
Dressed for all occasions.
Were the best looking at the party.
Had some strange friends.
And have a Wonderful Friend.
Happy
Birthday,
Sweetheart.
And the Best is yet
to come.
With all my love, Dean
l42
What is a Friend?
A friend can be a person of any gender, any race, any
religion, and any national origin. It is possible, though
diffcult to rationalize, that a friend could be (in order of
priority) a person, a dog (including wolves), a monkey, a
horse, a cat, a bird, a raccoon, a mouse, a plant, a tree or a
rock. Although cat lovers will disagree, I believe the curve
drops sharply after the dog.
Does the friend have to speak and understand your
language? The rock would fnd this impossible (though
some will disagree and what do we know?); The tree will
fnd it very diffcult although trees and plants do respond
to voice and thoughts; the bird, depending on the species,
may even be able to talk back; the raccoon, the mouse and
the cat may nod their heads, but who knows? The horse- I
wont comment about the horse for fear of being lynched
by an angry rancher. And why make a monkey of myself?
The dog we know will not only listen, but make sounds
at just the right moment, will nuzzle us and give us great
assurance that he or she understands just what we are going
through and how badly they feel about it. They can also
express joy with our joy. So I guess the defnition of a
friend is a dog. This is appropriate since dog is God spelled
backwards.
I almost forgot people. Is having the same language a
requisite to being a friend? I dont know. I guess, to fur-
ther defne, we must have a defnition of friend. A 1971
dictionary, used since it was not tainted by modern political
thinking, defnes a friend as follows:
a. A person whom one knows, likes and trusts
b. Any associate or acquaintance. Often used as a
form of address.
c. A favored companion; boy friend or girl friend.
d. One with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause;
a comrade.
e. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes
a group, cause, or movement.
f. ...a Quaker.
These leave me cold, except for a which has the word
trust in it, and the word sympathizes in defnition e
does seem appropriate. Maybe I am looking at the wrong
defnition. Lets try friendly.
In the defnition for friendly, the terms favorably dis-
posed, not antagonistic, warm comforting, amicable seem
to be appropriate. Amicable also yields peaceable which
sounds good. Leaving the dictionary and going to a song
written in 1947 by Rodgers and Hammerstein A Fellow
Needs a Girl, we fnd verses that have signifcant content:
Our list of words now includes listen, believe, wise and
strong, share and care, trustworthy, sympathize, favorably
disposed, not antagonistic, warm, comforting, amicable
and peaceable. From 1st Corinthians, Chapter 13, Pauls
chapter on love, includes the words patient, kind, does not
envy, does not boast, not proud, not rude, not self seeking,
not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs, rejoices
with the truth, protects, always trusts, always hopes, always
perseveres, never fails. Faith hope and love: the greatest of
these is love.
All of the above are ideas or concepts. Using some of
these ideas to describe a friend, lets place them in order:
A friend will: A friend is: A friend will leave you:
Listen Kind Warm
Care Available At peace
Believe Trustworthy Protected
Not judge Not imposing Comforted
Be patient At peace Never betrayed
Sympathize Not antagonistic In the arms of God
Be a confdante Not easily angered With comments if asked
Considering the above, it is easy to understand why
Jesus said Greater love has no man, than he would give
up his life for a friend. A friend, with the qualities given
above, would be worth the sacrifce. Note, the dog still
qualifes.
Why have a friend? Can a friend solve problems, mend
broken hearts, right wrongs? Sometimes, but not usually.
A friend is there to help when the climb is too steep, the
water is too deep, the pain is too great or love turns to hate.
A friend is a purchaser, a friend buys time for healing to
take place, and for the unfolding of Gods grace. Note, the
dog still qualifes.
Leaving the dictionary and going to a song written in
1947 by Rodgers and Hammerstein A Fellow Needs a
Girl, we fnd verses that have signifcant content:
A fellow needs a girl to sit by his side, at the end of a
weary day.
To sit by his side and listen to him talk, and agree with the
things hell say.
A fellow needs a girl to hold in his arms, when the rest of
his world goes wrong,
To hold in his arms, and know that she believes that her fel-
low is wise and strong.
When things go right, and his jobs well done, he wants to
share the prize hes won.
If no one shares, and no one cares, wheres the fun of a job
well done? Or a prize youve won?
A fellow needs a home, his own kind of home. But to make
this dream come true,
A fellow needs a girl, his own kind of girl, My kind of girl is
you.
M. Dean Keller - December, 1997
This essay was written in 1997 and has special meaning for me at this time. Please know that all events in this book
are the truth as best I remember or have it documented. Sometimes I sound proud, sometimes I look intelligent and
sometimes I am just dumb. In reading all of these conficting things, PLEASE BE A FRIEND!!!
l43
This was written for the retirement party of a dear
friend, Brooke Davis, with whom I worked for many years.
She was a mechanical engineer. The other two persons
who annoyed Brooke with me were Dean Miller, a civil
engineer and graduate of Texas A&M and Radon Tolman,
a very nice but strange fellow, and a mechanical engineer.
He was much fun to be around.
HUM-BUG
How could it be, she is so young?
This sweet young lady to whom Ive sung.
Always a lady, but an engineer too.
Now ready for retirement, it cant be true.
Now there was a group, a group of three,
Who used to annoy her, one of them was me.
Early in the morning they would plot and scheme,
And try to think of something- so mean!!
Now they were called different things,
Some of which were not so nice.
Would you believe, three musketeers,
The three little piggies, or the three blind mice.
This glee-some threesome, at break of dawn
Would gather in the offce, early in the morn.
Two Deans, one a Miller, the other a Keller
And one rare gas, Radon, a very strange fellow.
And when those three would get in tune
To hum besides the babbling Brooke
The melody would make you swoon,
And resonate from nook to nook.
Yes, little cubicles is all we had,
Our lives were such an open book,
What could we hide when all could see,
Our admiration for our babbling Brooke.
And after our Hummmm, which didnt last long,
After weve fnished our little song.
Wed have to go stick our heads in the sand,
Cause Brooke would dismiss us, with a wave of her
hand.
Yes, Engineering 9 was the place,
In which this foolishness we did embrace.
Yes, many things happened, as backwards we look,
But none so profound as the humming of the Brooke.
M. Dean Keller
May 25, 2006
HAPPY NIFTY THRIFTY FIFTY BIRTHDAY
Hey- I think its really nifty
That its true what I have heard,
You have reached the age of ffty-
You cant say that for THE bird.
You know the bird of which I speak-
There, before you, with nothing on.
Quick, with your knife you did tweak,
And suddenly its poor head was gone!!
But, you, a gentleman are -
Throughout the country will be said.
Cause when the headless bird you saw-
You loaned to it - Your Head!!
So there, a picture for all time
- Oh- it makes my poor head swim.
You, ready to stab- it is a crime!-
A turkey with the head of Jim.
James Estep is one of three step-sons whom I had the
pleasure of becoming a step father to when I married their
mother. He is a wonderful, cheerful person who made one
mistake: He sent us a couple of pictures around thanksgiv-
ing - one showing him ready to stab a turkey, and the other
of him with a surprised look on his face. The rest is history.
l44
First, Do No Harm
Sometimes we are called upon to be an instrument of God when a person that we know, or have just met, looks to us
for advice, council, an ear that is willing to listen, or just a friendly voice. We may have an exalted position, such as a
pastor or priest, or be a member of the body of Christ who has been placed at that moment in the presence of a person who
needs help. The start of the conversation may just be small talk, or there can be a blurting out of a confession that boggles
the mind. In Christianity, as in medicine, there is one overriding principle to observe, frst, do no harm. The battlefeld
for this principle is frst in the mind, with thoughts. Unfortunately, our frst thoughts are to defend our principles, our
beliefs, our faith, with little regard to the pain that this person whom God has placed in our presence may be experiencing.
Take a deep breath, say a short prayer, and think before you speak. Remember that Christians who are strongest must not
be rocks, but must be sponges, able to absorb pain and give back love.
Do Not Grieve The Holy Spirit
In the 1970s we went to a Catholic charismatic prayer meeting at Loyola University in New Orleans, LA. Father
Cohen was the priest who basically moderated the meeting. He was more in the position of a participant than of a leader,
although, in the Catholic Church at that time, the priest was the undisputed leader.
Everything was going beautifully when a classical tongue speaking fundamental Christian stood up to speak. He
spoke, and spoke, and spoke, telling God what wonderful persons his new Catholic charismatic brothers and sisters are,
and on and on and on. During this whole time Father Cohen looked at him and smiled. This would have been unknown
in the Catholic Church just a few years ago, and was completely foreign to this Catholic congregation. After this wonder-
ful brother was fnished, Father Cohen thanked him for his contribution.
Not so, also in the early 1970s, at a Catholic charismatic prayer meeting in Detroit. It was a wonderful group, com-
plete with nuns and priests who participated, but did not necessarily run the prayer meeting. Over 500 persons would be
there, raising their hands in praise to God and singing beautifully in English and in tongues. The singing in tongues after
a worship song would keep building in volume and fervor, until it would completely envelope the building and all in it. I
gave a few testimonies there, and they were warmly welcomed. I even had a nun who would pick me up and bring me
to the service. She enjoyed hearing what was happening in the land adjacent to Santa Fe (The Royal Village of The Holy
Faith of St. Francis of Assisi, offcial Spanish land grant name) and the Sangre de Christo (Blood of Christ) mountains.
One Wednesday I went to this meeting and over 500 persons were there again enjoying the love of Jesus through the
Holy Spirit. Everything was going beautifully and a classical tongue speaking fundamental Christian stood up and
started talking- praising God and thanking God for these wonderful people, and on and on and on. Well, someone thought
that he was out of order, and something had to be done about it. So a number of people started singing Praise Him until
the poor man was drowned out. Something left the meeting. I could feel it, to the best of my memory. But people kept
singing and praising- and all the other things you do in a prayer meeting.
The next time I had business in Detroit, I again went to this meeting. There were about 50 people there. One person
said that the meeting was too big and had broken up to form smaller groups in houses all over Detroit. I had no confrma-
tion on this theory- but I do not believe that is what happened. Had Elvis left the building?
Also in the 1970s a group of Episcopal Charismatic Christians, of which I was now one, had a weekly prayer and
praise meeting in the evening in a small room in the Episcopal Church. There were usually from 12 to 20 persons attend-
ing, all of whom were spirit flled, and speaking in tongues- as best I can remember. We were very close.
One night a lady unknown to anyone there, and Los Alamos was a small town, dropped in and sat down. She sang a
few songs with the rest of us. Than she began to talk, and talk, and talk and talk. Did I mention that she began to talk?
We heard the story of her life in great detail, a rather uneventful life at that, and much information about persons whom
we did not know. During this time we all listened attentively, and smiled. After a long while this precious lady said that
she had to go, and as quietly as she came in, she left.
There was a pause, then one of our group started laughing, softly at frst, than louder. Others joined in, softly, then
more loudly. Before long we were all laughing. We were not laughing at this person, we were just joyfully laughing. I
had heard that joy was a gift of the holy spirit, but this was the frst time that I found this joy being expressed in laughter.
It was wonderful.
Why did Gods joy fall upon our small group? I believe that we had a choice. We could have dismissed this person
and politely directed our worship in another direction. But wasnt that worship? Listening to a person, who at that time
could have been considered the least of the brothren? Perhaps this was an angel sent to see if we had a worship service
- or just another meeting. We had never seen her before, nor did we ever see her again. But I will never forget the joy she
brought into our service.
l45
In the Garden
This morning, Saturday, March 29, 2008, I had a Visitor. I was sitting in the living room in my comfortable brown
chair which I have had for over twenty years. I dont remember what I was doing, particularly, but coffee and the newspa-
per were involved. The TV was turned on to see if there was any breaking news- and there was none. The TV was turned
off and there was quiet.
The doorbell did not ring, nor did any door in the house open. They were all locked. And there was quiet in the room,
but gently the quiet became quieter until it reached a state of peace, the peace that surpasses understanding. I knew who
was in the room, with me, surrounding me, and in me. I felt His almighty presence and His abundant love, not as an over-
whelming feeling which would incapacitate me and make me hopeless to resist, but as a gentle touch from a Father, on my
head, to assure me that I was not forgotten. I felt love, subtle but there, and gentleness, and understanding.
I didnt pour my heart out to my Visitor, nor did I request a new car, or boat, or IPod (which it would take a miracle for
me to learn to use.) I talked, sometimes just in my mind, about the needs of others, my feeling of sorrow that I was unable
to do more to help, my request for guidance through this maze of confusion in the world called religion, and promised to
try to behave myself and do more. My Visitor said nothing, but was there, listening. I know.
I do not know how long this was going on. I did not look at the clock before or after. But I thought that I had better
return to things of the world, but did not want to. My Visitor knew. And slowly and gently the quiet became less quiet and
the peace returned to reality. My Visitor did not leave but lessened the feeling of His presence. My Visitor is in me and
with me and around me at all times.
And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And tells me that I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.
Afterwards, that afternoon, and after I had written the section above, this is what happened.
My grandson, who has many problems mentally and has been out of town for months, rang the door at our house. He
prefers to live on the street. I bought him some food, washed his clothes while he took a shower, and he fell asleep on the
bed upstairs. When he woke up, we had some pizza for him, which he ate. We then got in the car and went to Wal-Mart
where I bought him a sleeping bag and some cigarettes. Asking where he would like to go, he fnally decided on 71st and
Memorial where a friend would meet him. He had called him from the house. I gave him some money and dropped him
off at a place where he could meet this friend. He left knowing that he was loved.
If you are drawn into a conversation with this friend or stranger and a problem is mentioned or blurted out, frst- do not
act alarmed or disgusted, even though your sensitivity may have been offended. If necessary, take a deep breath, say a
prayer, and then ask How can I help? At all times ask for guidance from the Holy Spirit.
If the problem is sin, remember that when you stop loving, you start sinning, and try to direct the person to love. I
will recount one example that I heard many years ago, and although the names are forgotten, the example is still clear in
my mind.
A young lady requested a meeting with her pastor to discuss a problem that she had. After some small talk she
blurted out, I am having an affair with a married man. We meet every Thursday afternoon, and I cannot stop. The
pastor was shocked, and his frst reaction was to scold, and admonish- and ask her- Couldnt you taper off, and only
meet every other Thursday? How often have sinners been scolded, with righteous indignation by their pastor/
priest, and then left the church, or left God altogether? So the pastor prayed softly to himself. Peace came over him,
and he started speaking. Next Thursday when you go to meet your friend, ask Jesus to come with you. He loves
you, and is with you at all times, but He only goes with you if you want Him to do so. Dont be concerned about
Him, He has been in many situations that are painful, and it has never dimmed His love.
She followed the advice given to her, and the Prince of Peace was her constant companion. Soon there was no
blot on her Christian walk, and the sheep who had strayed was once more in the fock.
When we think of, see, talk to or otherwise greet another child of God, our frst thoughts are often negative. (Romans
7:21) But we have free will, and can choose. Pause and choose love, and change that negative thought to positive, and
greet the spark of God that is in that person. Maybe that spark of God is deep within that person, and no one has seen it in
many a year. But it is there, waiting for the Touch of the Masters Hand. We can be that instrument for our Creators use,
if we choose to be.
l46
God Paints on the Canvas of time. This was writ-
ten due to my always striving to learn more about Gods
creation. It is scripturally and scientifcally sound. Most
scientists, including Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawkins,
agree that man cannot go back or forward in time, so it is
an unchangeable unit for us, except that we must account
for the speed of light in designing communications systems
or considering time effects when we travel at even rela-
tively slow speeds of 25,000 mph. But God lives outside of
time, and there is the enigma. What a magnifcent chal-
lenge it is to try to see the past, the present and the future
through the eyes of our Creator.
PAINTING ON THE CANVAS OF TIME
God paints on the canvas of time,
Each stroke is deliberate and sure.
Each color is carefully selected
Each expression is good and pure.
Each life is shown on the canvas,
All lives are painted there too.
Singular, plural, each and all-
Them and us, and me and you.
How can this be, I sometimes ask,
For each and all to be portrayed?
The fnite, the infnite, the big, the small-
And sometimes, I am dismayed.
For I must think with a fnite mind,
Thoughts beyond its scope.
But God Is, and is in infnity
And that is why we can have hope.
For we may see a problem now,
And as we pray for relief
He changes an event in the past to help.
Well, that is my belief.
Why should He be hindered by
Limitations placed upon those
Who can only see the past as dead
Not a canvas for a rose.
The future is ahead of us,
The past we think is behind,
The present is all that we can see,
We are limited by our mind.
But God is not so limited,
By present, future or the past..
The only absolute through eternity-
Reality- is His Love- it will last.
Through time, through space, to infnity
To union with this ONE we love,
God is with us, is in us always,
Not in a heaven far above.
Today is October 1, 2009. A couple of days ago my
wife, Jean, asked me to come to the sun room. She wanted
to show me something. I looked out of the window and
she pointed to a white object in the back of the yard near
the hedge, very close to the fence. She asked me if it were
a rabbit. I looked at it. It was white, and I decided that it
wasnt a rabbit; it was a plastic bag such as you get at the
grocery store. It did look like it had ears, very big white
ears. I did tell her that if I saw it move I would call her.
A little later I noticed that the plastic bag was about 10
feet away from its former location, closer to the house. The
plastic bag then started going around in a circle, gyrating,
and it appeared that it was doing a waltz. I called Jean to
see it and we both watched as it moved back and forth with
the wind. When moving, it appeared to be a ballerina at
times; it would go up into the air spin and come back down
again. It would lose all of its air, fll itself up with air and
then come back again. It kept coming closer to the house,
frst going over to the east side of the yard and then mov-
ing towards the house. It kept getting closer to the house
and would then stop and do a loop, and turn around in a
circle. It kept moving closer to the house until, when it was
about ten feet from the concrete patio, I was ready to open
the side door and let it in. It then turned around and started
back towards the center of the yard. After dancing a little
there, it turned and went to the south-east section of the
yard and stopped to rest by the back fence, and just stayed
there in the corner. I watched it for a while as we were do-
ing other things. Later I looked out and it was gone.

Where did it go? I saw this type of dance in a movie
once where the bag was doing a dance and a person was
able to take photographs of it. I just wish that I had a video
of this dance so that I could have followed the gyrations
of the plastic bag. It was beautiful in the way it went from
place to place, went up in the air, went down to the ground,
lost its air, gained it back and again went up in the air
again. I began to wonder if it were just a plastic bag. Or
was it something that our Heavenly Father sent to amuse
us. He knew how we enjoyed the simple things, like watch-
ing the birds sitting on the wire and changing position. Or
having a squirrel or rabbit sighting in the back yard. We
enjoy all of life, even the most simple of events, such as a
plastic bag dancing in our back yard.
The next day Jean went into the garage and opened the
garage door. When she came back into the house, with the
garage door still opened, the wind, or should I call it the
Kamikaze, which is Japanese for divine wind, or translat-
ed in a spiritual mode, the Holy Spirit, infated a plastic bag
which was in a holder in the garage next to the door to the
house, removed it from its container and it swooped into
the kitchen area, fully infated and dancing, until it came
to rest on the kitchen foor. Who can explain it, who can
tell you why? Fools give you reasons, wise men never try!
Being a fool, I thank God for sending a messenger to amuse
us, thrill us and tell us that He loves us. Amen.
l47
l48
This is the story of An Engineers Quest, In Search of Our Creator by a person who has been blessed by
God. It was interesting to write, and I hope it is interesting to read. All of the names and events are true to the
best of my memory and copious records and awards. From being born (yes I was born) through my impending
departure from the earth, my life, in the 20th and 21st centuries, has been ordinary in most aspects, and blessed
by our Creator in others. I was born in the depression, grew up during World War II, was confused during pu-
berty (but fnally learned the purpose of girls) and graduated from high school and business school. I enlisted
in the peace time United States Air Force. Then came the Korean war, and volunteering for combat duty was
the honorable and patriotic choice for me. I served my country in combat for eleven and one-half months,
got shot at and missed, and met the now friendly Japanese people. After discharge I obtained a Bachelor and
Masters degree in Civil Engineering. I was married and had three sons but lost two of them. Had Leukemia
since 1965. I fnally evolved into a meaningful (hopefully) relationship with my Creator; two steps forward,
one step backward.
l lost my wife to divorce at her request. Sicknesses overwhelmed me along with a nervous breakdown at
that time. My son, Steve, picked me up by the nape of my neck and took me to Tulsa for medical treatment.
Remission of Leukemia allowed me to function again and I met a wonderful woman and married again. This
last twelve plus years living in Tulsa with Jean have been the best years of my life.
Over this last eight decades, technology has improved from almost primitive to spectacular. We are learning
so fast that we sometimes go beyond our power to control what we create. This has been an amazing century
to live in, in spite of its dangers and pain. The soul of the church, which imprisoned Galileo for telling the truth
about the earth not being the center of the universe, is still alive and well. It has morphed into thousands of
doctrine laws, edicts, fatwas, and the infallibility of the gifted or privileged which has caused many to achieve
wealth at the cost of millions of brainwashed sincere seekers who believe that their way is the only way. Fortu-
nately, in our nation, we no longer burn persons at the stake or imprison them for their beliefs. There are some
groups with strong dogma who would like to return to the older ways. God bless them.

My battle with leukemia has required that I spend much time in waiting rooms, infusion centers and other
medical facilities. I have been able to be in the midst of persons who need inspiration or perhaps just a laugh
or a song. I have given away copies of the poetry in this book to many persons, and some did beneft from the
thoughts expressed in my work. Sometimes, all Jean and I can offer is a song, a smile and laughter. That has
been enough to change a problem into a joyful moment, a joyful moment for us and for the recipient. For this
we live, to spread Gods love and our love to all who would receive it.
This book, Part 1, is followed by Part 2, Dancing with Words which contains essay, poetry and some
repetition from Part 1 as is necessary to allow it to stand alone. This was written to satisfy the curiosity about
this other phase of my life without having to carry the complete book around.
I woke up a few nights ago at 4:00 AM with basically the words for the following in my brain. I knew I
might forget it before morning so I went to the computer and typed out the basic idea - as true as I could.
It is my duty and pleasure to remain on earth as long as I can; to enjoy
my wife, family and friends and to enjoy the wonderful world which our
Creator has given to us. Also, to help, love and spread Gods love to all
with whom I come in contact.
It is my desire to return to my Creator to enjoy His love and the love of
all those who have gone before.
An Engineers Quest - In Search of Our Creator
Part I
My Life & Selected Writings