Remarkable Quest: Of a Resilient Beerinsky
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.....During his time in U.S. Navy Reserves he began to gain some self confidence and some time later realized the opportunity to become an individual person was his rescue from his feeling of worthliness as taught by the orphanage/foster home. He is forever grateful to the U. S. Navy for this awakening and assistance in becoming his own man.
.....Because he lived in a rooming house near Marquette University in Milwaukee which catered to medical students, he developed a keen interest and fascination with medicine. The students encouraged him to study their books, which he did with a voracious appetite. This became a lifelong habit to study for pleasure. The medical knowledge served him well when called to active duty. Again the Navy allowed him to be a person, follow a happy path by going to school to become a Navy Corpsman. An eager student kept him busy learning and after serving successfully as a medic he was again called on for additional training - this time to dental tech school. Once that was in place, he left San Diego to serve his country for three years in the South Pacific as the second member of a dental team assigned to care for Navy, Marine and Army personnel. He was one of the lucky ones to return from those islands and recounts some of the humorous events of those military years.
.....Post war adjustments did produce some unexpected temporary unhappiness in his life. His resiliency was such he was slowed down but not knocked down. As was the case for quite a few returning military personnel, he ran into a "Dear John" situation where his wife had found what she considered to be greener pastures and had chosen not to tell him while he was out of country. Here again, he is suddenly without family because of the divorce. He did however, retain custody of his son for which he was ill equipped. Never experiencing a real functioning family unit caring for each other, he did his parenting by instinct which he much later felt was probably not good enough. He spent four years alone with his son as he used his laborious skills to provide for that son while he continued his pursuit of achievement and knowledge. It was not a loving relationship because he did not yet know how to feel or show that kind of love.
.....The first time he thought he could afford to take a vacation, he and Nickie went to Catalina Island. The vacation ultimately netted them a wife, mother and the opportunity to become a family. Nicholas met Alice, fell in love again and they were married. She adopted Nickie and he now had someone to make it a home in a house he bought upon returning from war time service. Alice was experienced in operating a rooming house so they bought a very large, older home in Los Angeles and rented the home in Redondo Beach. Alice ran the rooming house while Nicholas continued his wood working job at Hughes. It was during this time, through his boss at Hughes, Nicholas became interested and hooked on rockhounding. Such an artistic craft would someday provide much pleasure and some monetary benefits. This good life lasted for a number of years as they worked towards building a nest egg and providing for their son.
.....Because work involved in operating a rooming house was never ending, Alice grew weary of it and Nicholas was antsy for a new challenge. Hi
Nicholas J. Besker
NICHOLAS J. BESKER, what a life! He has come a long way from a baby among so many, without the benefit of parent's love and direction. Here is an orphan stripped of self esteem who rose above it with the attitude of "I'll show you." He made his successful mark in this world through an extraordinary or unusual search and pursuit to achieve. He believes anyone can overcome life's handicaps by persistent hard work, resiliency and the support of a loving wife. Currently the pleasure of his twilight years, plus the love and support of loved ones, finds him content.
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Remarkable Quest - Nicholas J. Besker
Copyright © 2001 by Nicholas J. Besker.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This book was printed in the United States of America.
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Contents
DEDICATION
PREFACE
CARVING CORPSMAN
ROOMING HOUSE & ROCKHOUNDING
HOME BUILDER—GRANDSONS
RETIREMENT & WIDOWED TRAUMA
JOY & COMFORT OF TWILIGHT YEARS
DEDICATION
This book concludes the rest of the life of Beerinsky.
Socrates said it well, The unexamined life is not worth living.
I have examined my life, knowing this is the best of my life and one could say it is my love story.
The challenge of a lifetime is leaving a loveless childhood, ill equipped to enter an unfamiliar world. Fear and frustration put a chip on my shoulder, made me tough and demanding as I had to control my own life in the battle for survival. That desire for absolute control has stayed with me, although it has mellowed in the twilight of my life. For that I dedicate this completion of my memoirs to the one who helped most to make it so—my wife, Dottie.
The final rewrite and edit of this second volume was done almost a year ago. My health, hospital stays, repair of the 14 year old triple bypass and the subsequent requirement for Dottie to provide for my care, prevented her from getting those rewrites into the computer. She has promised to get it done for me as soon as possible. I am confident she will honor her promise and for that I love her more, as well as being very grateful.
My favorite love story is Dr. Zhivago and as we work at my recovery, seeing the movie again brings warmth and love to my soul. I want Dottie at my side to watch it. At times when the Dr.Zhivago’s music is on the radio, I find her to hold her close and show my love.
She is my Little Angel and brings to me the tenderness, devotion and love I missed as a orphaned boy. For this I dedicate to her ALL of me.
missing image fileNICHOLAS AS A PROUD SAILOR
PREFACE
A former Beerkinsky orphan boy is rescued !! By none other than—Uncle Sam! I was the orphaned boy who thought all women wore black habits and were called sisters, until I was fifteen years old and placed in a foster home. Six years later, still struggling with low self-esteem and the battle for survival, good fortune finally smiled on me !
Thank God for the U. S. Navy ! My life began to turn around when the Navy considered me worthy of participating in the Naval Reserves and it really gave me some self esteem when I was called up for active duty. The training, the opportunity to learn in the medical field and recognition of being a person with ability to grow, boosted my morale and taught me I COULD be somebody. It gave me an ample supply of confidence and self esteem, toughness and determination to prove I was a worthy and capable person. Nicholas, the orphan Beerinsky learned to live, love and be loved.
This is the rest of my memoirs, the best of my life as a man named Nicholas, a resilient Beerinsky.
All those good things were overshadowed by the sadness of going to war, leaving a wife and son as well as not knowing whether I would be fortunate enough to return home.
‘Carving Corpsman Poses With Work
missing image fileThe Carving Corpsman
is what they call Nicholas J. Besker, Navy hospital attendant attached to the marine corps base dispensary dental department, who poses here with some of his sculptures which are on display at the marine base library. (U.S. Marine Corps photo 1942).
Besker’s beautiful wood-sculptorings are the first contribution loaned to the display sponsored by Miss Flora Bell Brigham, Base librarian, of hobby-work produced by base personnel.
Although the corpsman’s carving, accomplished with the sole aid of a small knife, shows artistic appreciation, the former Mil-waukeean claims to have had no training in art or sculptoring. I’ve been carving animals and people since I was old enough to hold a penknife,
he says.
Most of Besker’s efforts have been given away, but the finer works of his magic knife on display at the base library include an 18-1/2-inch nude carved from a single piece of black walnut set on a polished marble base; crouching dog, cut from American mahogany; Torso, a venus-like nude of rock maple; Peacock of delicately carved ebony; Flamingo, which stands on needle-thin legs, of white oak and Reclining nude, a remarkable carving of American and oriental mahogany. The tall nude took nearly 400 hours of work, according to Besker.
The statue has been on exhibition at the La Jolla Art Center for some time, and several offers have been made for the piece. Besker places a value of $500 on the statue.
Marines and other personnel at the Marine Corps Base are invited to exhibit their hobbies in the Base library display.
CARVING CORPSMAN
In late 1943 I was assigned to a dental unit, and we became one of many teams assigned to the south Pacific Theater for the duration of the war. Of course that transport ship was not a pleasant experience.
We first saw duty in Australia. Then we were transferred to New Guinea to a PT boat base where the Naval forces numbered about 1300 to logistically keep the unit’s 38 motor torpedo boats, affectionately nicknamed mosquitoes
, operating against Japanese shipping. As the area dental team, we were responsible for the dental needs of all military personnel assigned on base and nearby Army units.
Every ex-serviceman can recite chapter and verse of various enterprises a sharp guy might work to pick up extra pocket change while on active duty. Some established themselves as bankers for their free-spending buddies. Often someone would be short of cash before pay day. I seemed to always have money, so I became one of those local bankers wherever I was stationed. Five bucks here and ten bucks there, payable the following pay day with interest proved to be a lucrative side-line for us thrifty ones. I never met a man who reneged. I put the word out early that if anyone failed to pay up, I’d turn off the faucet. I didn’t need a collector to break bones to get my money. Everyone who borrowed from the Besker bank was a collector. The system turned out to be perfect. I never lost a dime or lost a client.
Another money making idea of mine that truly had a touch of genius was my announcement that I’d serve as squadron photographer. After the combat photographer assigned to the base was transferred, I fell heir to a very expensive Speed Graflex camera. How this guy left the base without turning in a valuable piece of USN issued equipment, I’ll never know. I didn’t ask. I not only inherited the camera but unofficially his on-base job too. I took the official photographs of our base personnel holding the ceremonial parade to honor President Roosevelt after his death in 1945.
The idea was spawned in my head that since the official photographer was no longer in the picture and I had this very expensive camera, maybe I should run a side business. I got my wife Leora, stateside, to send me the chemicals I needed to develop film and print pictures, plus other necessary items such as film, print paper, etc. My quarters were turned into a makeshift darkroom. I think what I saw of our dental unit’s x-ray section was instrumental in furthering this project. I got my hands on a printbox so I could not only develop the negatives but print finished photographs. This was important in my scheme because up to that point everyone had to send their negatives home by mail to be printed. Soon the word got around the area that I could not only develop negatives but also deliver finished prints. Of course I was taking pictures of my own using the speed graflex, a 1x16 folding camera. I was swamped with business.
Then I discovered there were a lot of guys who didn’t own cameras and wanted to send photos home to family members or girl friends and wives. I began taking portraits on an appointment basis. My wife was able to mail me sufficient paper, film and chemicals from the states. I opened the doors of my portrait studio. My activities were open knowledge. What the official position of my superiors never filtered down to me. We had plenty of free time at this particular time.
The 16 Kodak folding camera would give me 12 exposures per roll and my printing facilities offered a 3x5 snapshot. I set a price of $3 for one print chosen from 3 exposures . . . a total of $12 gross per roll—and thus opened up my photo business. It prospered both from the Naval personnel on-base but also the Army personnel from a support base across the bay.
My biggest and best job came from a look alike handsome Master Sergeant, who had just been named to the post of Top sergeant. He’d heard about my enterprise and showed up to hand me $216 for 72 photos of himself. He didn’t ask for a volume discount, and I wasn’t about to offer one. When he picked up the photos I couldn’t help but ask what he was going to do with so many mug shots?
«Gonna’ give each company and platoon Non Commissioned Officer a personal photo of their new Top Kick and tell ‘em I wanna’ see it displayed prominently in their footlockers on inspection day.»
As he left my tent $216 poorer, I could hear his rich, brassy bass laughter as he drove away in his personally assigned jeep. I knew I’d met a life-loving man who lived every moment of life to the fullest. What other way makes any sense for a professional soldier who lives intimately with death? There’s no guarantee of longevity so it is wise to take big bites. But it was his jeep that really caught my eye because I was looking for a high performance engine to power a home-made boat.
Mike, the head dental surgeon in our outfit had been an avid yachtsman in civilian life. When he heard about my woodworking experience, he engaged me in conversation one day.
«Do you think you could build a boat?»
I was cocky and my brash reply was, «Hell, yes. I’d need plans, the lumber, some tools and nautical supplies to seal seams and enough varnish to maintain a waterproof seal of the hull, plus whatever fittings you want on it.» The upshot of it was that in our spare time we undertook to hand build a 16 foot power boat for personal pleasure.
The power plant was a problem. We didn’t know where to get it. But our PT boat base offered us access to lumber and tools. We even managed to talk our way into the base machine shops and won the use of power tools used by boat maintenance personnel, ship fitters, etc. It was basically a job of assembling the right components to create our dream boat.
When I saw the sergeant drive away with his order of photographs, I had an inspiration! We’d get a jeep engine and convert it for the boat. At first I thought we’d have to steal it. Then I started using my imagination. I started courting the Army’s motor pool transportation Top Kick with the aim of asking him to get us an engine. I wooed him with free photo services, several fifths of bonded whiskey, and I backed him in a few Acey Deucy games. He was an ardent but inept gambler.
After extending him a few favors, I called my note, so to speak. I broached the subject of getting my hands on a jeep.
«A whole jeep?» he cried. «Jeez, no way!»
I pointed out that I’d extended a lot of favors and I was willing to forget all of them if he could help us out. I was sure he didn’t resent the implicit blackmail I was employing to get my hands on the engine. He was merely inimidated by the scope of the enterprise, and perhaps he suffered from a limited imagination when it came to larceny.
«I can’t swipe a whole jeep,» he finally said, warming to the project.
«But, if all you need is an engine, I can swing that. No sweat.»
We set the delivery date, and true to his word, a crate showed up on our boat yard pier stenciled medical supplies with all the documentation required. Also the mitagating notice that it was to be delivered only upon signature of the ranking