Imperflections

By Robert M. Neff

Imperflections is Auto-biograghical in nature written as Creative non-fiction. Beginning with my turning 5 acres of forest into a fertile family garden while I was 10 and 11 years old. At age 12 I was literally raising a 35 year-old alcoholic. Summer School and my Plebe year at Culver Military Academy complete 6 years in my rear-view mirror.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert M. Neff
• Release date: Aug 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301812974

Robert M. Neff

I have more than 30,000 hours in front of classes, congregations, and conferences. As a Senior Instructor in the Marine Corps I taught Advanced Electronics, Mathematics, Management, and Survival Techniques. I have taught Adult Sunday School, Preached and brought Special Music for over 50 years.My working life began at age 10 when, across two summers, by myself, using only rudimentary hand tools, I turned 5 acres of forest into a fertile family garden.While still living at home I shared my bedroom with Strays, Scoundrels, Sots, Soldiers, Scholars, and Saints. I learned something positive from each of them.Culver Military Academy and Wheaton formed the foundation of my education.I enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1953 and 'took my pack off' in 1982.I was a Senior Technical Writer/Instructor at Grumman Aircraft writing manuals for communications, navigational aids, counter/counter-counter measures, target acquisition radar, and all weapon delivery systems.I have owned my own business ans Managed a Christian Book Store.I worked 40 hour weeks until I turned 77 years old.I have some stories to tell. Are you ready to hear/read them?

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Imperflections

Published by Robert Neff at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Robert Neff

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: I Came To My Garden Alone

Chapter 2: A Man Called Griz

Chapter 3: The Griz Returns

Chapter 4: Culver

Chapter 5: Home Has Changed

Chapter 6: C. M. A.

Chapter 7: What Did I Get Myself Into?

Chapter 8: Wednesday

Chapter 9: Day 4 – Thursday

Chapter 10: Duty Calls

Chapter 11: The Campus Changes Quickly

Chapter 12: Let the Learning Begin

Chapter 13: Academics vs. Athletics

Chapter 14: Some Days Were Unique

Chapter 15: Social Activities

Chapter 16: Commencement Week

Author’s Biography

Chapter 1: I Came To My Garden Alone

In the spring of 1944 my father asked me if I could fell, bring down, a particular tree in less than five minutes. The tree in question was a Poplar, a softwood similar to an Aspen, with a diameter of about 8 inches.

The previous summer he had given me my own double-bitted axe. I had used it quite frequently and had developed a reasonable ability in its use.

Much to Dad’s surprise, I felled the tree in less than four minutes using only my axe. I felt quite accomplished but, looking back, that may have not been the smartest thing I ever did.

Due to the displaying of my skill, I was given the task of turning 5 acres of forest into a garden. It was estimated that it would take me two summers to do so. The estimate was correct I was 10 years old at the time.

It was still 4 weeks until school let out for the summer. Then we would move to our cabin on Sand Lake and I could start my garden project.

Dad had recently purchased the wood lot across the road from our cabin. World War II was still being fought and a primary social thrust was the Victory Garden. It seemed every family either had one or wanted one. We were no exception.

I was not at all happy with the task but I had learned to not express such an opinion. I began to make a plan, and to list, and gather, the tools I expected to need.

I already had my axe but I needed a sharpening wheel. We had an 8 foot crosscut saw (there were no chain saws then). I would need a machete, a pry-bar, a pick-axe, a car jack with some chain to use as a come-along, a peavey to help roll and move logs, a wheelbarrow, a#2 shovel, a bucket, and a gallon of mosquito repellant per week.

(I need to confess right here that when I say five acres, at that time my eyes were less than five feet off the ground. Now that they are almost six feet off the ground, maybe it was not quite five acres. However, it was a huge task for a kid.)

Dad estimated that, if I dropped an average of three moderately sized trees, 6 to 8 inches across, each week, along with the correlating underbrush, the job should be completed in two summers. Estimates, guestimates; It is amazing the plans and expectations that can be developed by those who are not going to do the work.

Charlie

The general caretaker for the neighborhood was an old Timber Jack named Charlie Baker. Having spent his entire adult life in the Forestry business, he was a master in his field. He was friendly, industrious, and an excellent and willing teacher.

Having learned of my predicament he took me under his wing as a student. When I passed Dad’s test by felling that tree in less than 4 minutes, it was because Charlie had taught me some of the tricks of the trade, especially the importance of a sharp axe. Charlie taught me how to decide where a tree should fall and how to make it fall exactly there. He taught me how to make a tree that was leaning somewhat in one direction fall in the opposite direction by a trick called Sampsoning. He taught me how to fell a tree growing next to a fence jump over the fence in such a way that the fence was not damaged.

Primarily due to the use of chain saws, those skills are now lost by today’s woodsmen.

I do not blame them. I pity them.

Many of these skills I learned during my garden project but, as Charlie had at least a dozen properties to care for he could not afford to spend much time with me.

I still thank him for his help and his friendship.

Getting Started

The underbrush along the side of the road needed to be removed first. That was the only way to gain access to the real task at hand.

The majority of this brush was Hazel Nut’, what we called Witch Hazel" due to the similarity of its odor to that of the lotion of the same name.

It was in this activity that an Army Surplus Machete was the most valuable. It was also in this phase that I discovered, to my great disdain and much pain, that hornets, Yellow Jackets, lived there in abundance and defended their territory vigorously.

Multiple Bug Bombs across several days seemed to establish improved safety in the workplace. [OSHA would have approved. The EPA would have sued.]

It took most of the first week to get the brush cleared and stacked in a place where it could be burned later.

Then it was time to start felling the trees. The first ones had to be brought down parallel to the road and the power lines. When the first tree fell I discovered the enormous complexity of my task. Now that it was down I had to cut off all its limbs, stack the limbs on the brush pile, cut the trunk into lengths that I could handle, and stack those sections neatly.

That is all there was to it. But later the stump would need to be removed.

Some weeks I met my quota. A few weeks I exceeded it. Some weeks I missed it.

I gained strength as the summer progressed. My skills increased. My axe got sharper.

I had learned to sharpen both axe and machete at least 4 times each day. I sharpened the saw every evening.

This was not the summer of boating, fishing and swimming I had planned.

Charlie had suggested that I make all my stumps 12 to 18 inches high. This would make their removal much easier. It was also safer because you would not be tripping on unseen stumps. I am glad that I followed his advice.

Oops!

One day I was bringing down a tree that was about 30 feet tall and about 12 inches in diameter. I had cut the notch correctly, both in direction and size. I was using the saw to complete the job and the tree was beginning to fall correctly. A sudden gust of wind forced it to fall in the opposite direction. It fell across the power lines and broke them. I was one frightened little boy.

I knew the power company truck would soon be there. Should I go home and hide, or run away, or just continue working. I chose the latter.

The power truck and the Sheriff arrived about the same time. I was getting simultaneous questions, lectures and condemnations.

As this was going on, a car stopped and a lady that I recognized stepped out. She lived about 6 cabins down from us. She explained that she had been getting her mail and heard me call, Timber! She watched as the tree began falling away from the road and was amazed when a gust of wind blew it backward across the power lines.

Her story, along with an examination of my notch and saw marks, convinced them that I had done everything correctly and the accident was indeed an Act of God. Whew!

End Year One

I was actually surprised at how much progress I had made that first year.

With the arrival of the first 6 inch snowfall we obtained a fire permit and burned our giant brush pile.

As usual, early in the school year we had to write the obligatory What I Did on My Summer Vacation paper. My report was short. I worked around our cabin. Why not? Nobody would have believed the truth!

The Second Year

There were still a few trees that had to come down but I was now able to make short work of them. But all the stumps remained.

Dad came home with a case of dynamite, a box of blasting caps and a large coil of fuse. I was amazed at the irony of the situation. Here I was, eleven years old,