Vignettes - Life's Tales Book Two

By William Baker

VIGNETTE, Book Two is a collection of short stories about the life experiences of its author, William (Bill) Baker. It contains about twenty short stories. The stories are historically accurate and told in a sensitive, humorous way. Parts, are very touching. Every reader will find themselves in one or more of the real life stories which range from:

- Days of childhood mischief, to a Senior Air Force Officer
- Teen-age hitch-hiking, to serving a Four Star Knighted Officer of the Royal British Air Force
- Hanging a high school football effigy
- Experiencing the Kamikaze raids at Buckner Bay, Okinawa, to romance on a cattle ranch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Apr 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781456605957

William Baker

WILLIAM F. BAKER, PH.D. (New York, NY) is president emeritus of WNET, New York's PBS station, and a professor at Fordham University. He teaches Understanding the Profession: The Business of the Performing Arts in the 21st Century to students from Juilliard and Fordham.

Book preview

Production

VIGNETTE NO. I

Fishing the Head Waters of the Colorado

Lowry AFB, Aurora, Colorado

The year is 1950. I am a First Lieutenant in the Air Force living with my wife and our first two children, Billy, age 2 and Peggy, three months in Aurora just outside of Lowry Air Force Base where I am in charge of the Machine Accounting School (IBM punched card equipment). Two years earlier before going to Officer’s Candidate School (OCS) I had been an enlisted instructor in the Officer’s course . Now, I am back as the Officer-in-Charge (OIC) of the school.

the school. The thing that has changed is that before going to OCS I reported to Pinky and now Sergeant Cochran reports to me.

Prior to my attending OCS Pinky and I made many after work and weekend fishing trips to the rivers and streams of the Rocky Mountains. One of our favorite holes was on the Elk River a few miles North out of Steamboat Springs, about 170 miles or a four hour drive from Aurora. Our series of holes were located in a carved out channel of slow moving deep water moving through high walled box canyons. These holes were particularly hard to fish because of the sheer walls and the distance of thirty or more feet to the water. But, the rewards were worth the dangers and the loss of many fish in the long haul up from the water.

On this particular trip, Pinky, myself and two instructors from the school were going for the weekend. Everyone had something to bring in the way of food and drink. I made arrangements for picking everyone up, readied my 1946 Chevrolet sedan and started off. The last pick-up was Pinky. Up to this point, everything had just been piled in the car since we would pack it for the trip at Pinky’s house.

Another thing to be done at Pinky’s was to dig worms. Pinky prided himself in growing the best fishing worms West of Louisiana, his birth state. I joined Pinky while the others packed the car. We hurriedly dug the worms, returned to the car and headed for the Elk River.

It was twilight when we arrived and dark by the time we had the tents set up, a fire going, had a few beers and had something to eat.

It was not quite day-break when I crawled out of my sleeping bag, kicked up the fire and started the coffee. Pinky was right behind me and the other two were grumbling and saying things like, Hell, the fish aren’t up yet! All of a sudden Pinky whirled on his heel and came full into my face. Where’s the poles? He was furious. I stammered, In the trunk, where I put them! We took a few strides to the car. The trunk lid was up and there were no fishing poles in the trunk. I looked in the back seat. No poles there. What the hell!

I turned to the other two who had packed the car, Where are the fishing poles? Both, humped their shoulders and rolled up empty palms.

This brought on a string of vulgarity and promises never to be kept. What to do? At the time, Steamboat Springs was nothing more than a wide spot in the road and buying rods and reels was out of the question.

Even if the town did have some we couldn’t afford them. I suggested we try making some Tom Sawyer rigs. Then, after picturing how I would hang thirty or more feet of line from a dead branch, catch a fish and then try to haul it up without loosing it, I concluded the fishing trip to be over. The others agreed. We packed up and headed home.

As we rounded the corner and Pinky’s house came into view we could see the fishing poles all leaning against the wire fence. The mood was quiet and explosive. I pulled to the curb as Pinky’s wife came from the house and jokingly called, Forget something?

I dropped everyone off at their houses, went by Pat’s mother’s home, picked up my family and returned home. It was my last trip to the Eel River.

END

VIGNETTE NO, II

Making a Movie: Romance of Rosy Ridge

Sonora, California

as Mitchell). Suspecting that Carson is up to no good, MacBean is sure of it when the handsome stranger begins courting MacBean’s daughter Lissy Anne (Janet Leigh). Things come to a head dramatically when the heretofore easygoing Carson comes face to face with a band of hooded, night-riding barn burners who’ve been fomenting discord among the farmers.

The setting for this movie was in the foothills outside of Sonora where we built the shell of an Ozark house with a walk-around porch and three sides of a barn. A few hundred yards from the house the ground was scraped to a depth of about a foot to form a pond.