Relocation: An Autobiographical Musing

By J Calvin Dunn

This is the biography and odyssey of a man experiencing the ups and downs and the pitfalls and success of a charmed life.

Experience the progression from employment to retirement, the trials and tribulation of becoming a gentleman farmer, the excitement of purchasing a thoroughbred racehorse, the resulting glory of watching it finish first at a major track, and the satisfaction of traveling the globe.

It is told together with untold cruising, visiting the exciting ports of the world. It is a life lived and enjoyed, as only he could have perceived it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: May 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781489716866

J Calvin Dunn

88 year old, retired, and widowed living with 2 delightful cats. A former owner of thoroughbred race horses, and an extensive world traveler, having cruised on 34 occasions to ports throughout the world.

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Copyright © 2018 J Calvin Dunn.

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ISBN: 978-1-4897-1685-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-1686-6 (e)

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 05/11/2018

Contents

Preface

Book One

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

Book Two

52

53

54

55

56

57

58

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

70

71

72

73

74

75

76

77

78

79

80

81

82

83

84

85

86

87

88

89

90

91

92

93

94

95

96

97

98

99

100

101

102

103

104

105

106

107

108

109

The Final Chapter

PREFACE

Relocation is the moving, of being or object from one location to another. In the telling of my story, it is the compelling propulsion of events that drove me from one relocation to another, as I suppose is the case with everyone.

Book

One

1

I was sitting quietly, having a drink in my favorite watering hole The Top Hat, a club, run by a friend of mine. It was early afternoon and the atmosphere low key. I had been playing horse with the bartender for quarters to play the jute box. My mood was pensive and I was questioning my current life choices. It was in this same club, about 6 years ago that I met Helena, she was working there in the evening, as daytime employment for her, was not an option. She had to go to the Primary Children’s Hospital to be with her young son. As the night wore on, I had been served by this young and pretty young lady. I was attracted to the facts of her situation. Here was a young mother of three. A boy, Travis, six (and handicapped, Cerebral Palsy) a girl Kathy, five and a boy Tracy, four. An Idaho girl, who had migrated to SLC in order to get medical help for her son Tracy. Help not available at her home in Blackfoot Idaho. A girl on her own, a husband that couldn’t accept the responsibility of his situation. Her job as a server, in the club had to be in the evening, as her son Travis, took up all of her time during the day. As was the custom, at days end when the bar closed, the Club’s staff enjoyed the opportunity to meet at an all night restaurant. At that time, I was usually a part of this group. It was a period when friends, kicked back, gabbing and enjoying a late night meal. It was then that I was personally introduced to this delightful young lady. The personal attraction on my part, led to a very rewarding union, one that had lasted for 6 years. Helena had quit school, gotten pregnant, and married, to escape a family situation that she felt, she couldn’t handle. It was only fate that had intervened and produced a handicapped child, that required so much care, which led, to her coming to Salt Lake to the children’s Hospital, where Travis could get help, and where she could be with him. And so the affair began. I immediately encouraged her to get her GED and further her education. She was such an accepting and hard worker, and she finally got her high school diploma and college followed, producing a bachelors degree. With my aid and letters to the government we were able to acquire a house for her and her children (HUD). A house for me as well because for the past 6 years I spent part of my time within their midst. Helena was now on her quest to get her Masters degree. On reflection, I was not unaware of how my choices, had reflected on my other family. A family of three children and a wife dedicated to the protection of those children. Larry, Pamela and Carole. It was not without trepidation that I had subjected them to my lifestyle. My life had always handed me the best choices. As an example, my employment, a job that I did not seek, a job that I did not want. A job interview, taken only to satisfy an older uncle. Orin Speirs, my sort of mentor, and older than me by 20 months, uncle. We had grown up together like siblings. He worked for the Tel Co. and saw this as an opportunity for me. GOOD choice as this turned out to be the dream job and career of a lifetime. As an Engineer in the outside plant of this Co. it was my responsibility to clear the Right of Way for the construction of telephone lines thru private prop. As such, it afforded me the opportunity to live a life of my own choosing. Arise when I liked, work when it suited me, and all without supervision. The only criteria was to produce, and this was So easy. I had no peers when it came to producing in this job. In fact I had a Department head that wished that I had a twin doing the same job. With this to sustain me, it made it easy to select life choices that suited ME. Unfortunately those around me and those the closest to me were left with having to live with MY choices.

2

It was during my venture through this second family affair, that my younger cousin Bob and I became close. Extra curricular activities fell within this sphere. We bought twin Thunderbirds together. A Thunderbird could not be considered a family car. We also joined in the purchase of a 38 foot Fiber-foam (used) boat. A Cabin Cruiser that could sleep six with a full galley. What a beautiful vessel. We decided to dock it at Bear Lake. A lake straddling the Utah and Idaho border. Life was good and I was living it to the hilt. Time for reunion with my No. 1 family. It’s vacation time and a trip to Calif. To see the sights and Nonnie and Gramps. The BIG RED CAR, this is what would be needed for such a journey, The Thunderbird would have to go. What better auto to replace it with, than it’s big brother. A Lincoln Cont. So venturing into the world of auctions, I selected the BIG RED CAR, . An automobile that would more than accommodate the family, all the bells and whistles, and white leather seats. And so the journey began and unusual for me, it was a disaster from the beginning. Driving at night and two dead deer would wreck havoc on this beautiful auto. Limping into Fremont Calif. And taking up temporary lodging at Nonnie and Gramps (Grandma and Grandpa) we set about getting our beautiful Red Car repaired. We used the occasion to visit and do what most visitors do, when in the Bay Area. See San Francisco and all that it had to offer. This was made possible by Using BART, rapid transit from Fremont to the Big City. It was fun time for all and we did it all. Even Alcatraz. With Auto repaired somewhat, we resumed our visit into So Calif. And visit with many more relatives. Visited out, we limped back home with sick auto and exhausted family

3

My younger brother Jimmy, without adequate supervision from Melba or Joe, (mother and father) had quit school at 13. started smoking and became a slave to the ale, like his father. I witnessed bad choices, that produced bad results. My looked up to, mentor, Orin, as well, had fallen victim to the bottle. And unfortunately was now a confirmed alcoholic. With this evidence before me, I was a reluctant recruit to even picking up the filthy habit of cigarettes. And even that, I resisted until I was 20 years old. It was only being the last one standing that brought that to fruition. At the same time, as a result of a film that I had seen, which depicted smokers of pot, literally floating thru key holes and ending up in opium dens; the likelihood of smoking marijuana was unthinkable.

It was about this time when cousin Bob came to me and wanted me to accompany him and a friend of his (The owner of an automobile agency) a pillar of society. In such a position he had been asked to head up a committee on the pitfalls of the pot smoking teenagers in the community. It was, in their judgment, a new form of recreation; try it. One of the boys, I did and didn’t experience a thing, and after several attempts decided that these guys had been taken. It was later, that I mentioned this experience to one of my daughters boy friends, and he suggested trying one of his joints. To prove my point, I did and I was hooked. I didn’t float thru key holes and it didn’t send me to an opium den. But what it did do, was transform everything of any consequence into hilarity. And lets not forget the munchies. Later that day when grocery shopping I had the almost unquenchable desire to eat a box of Wheaties, box and all.

4

I picked up my quarters, swung around in my bar stool, and confronted the jukebox. In my revere there was only one song that I wanted to hear (First Time Ever I Saw Your Face (Roberta Flack). Depositing my quarters in the machine and making my selection, I turned to a table situated next to the jute. It was occupied by two young ladies nursing drinks and quietly talking. I offered them the unused music left on the box, to which, the closest to the machine said no thank you. I was startled, and asked why. She replied because I’m blind. So be it, I returned to my drink. Several minutes later I had occasion to turn around, and noticed this very same girl with her face practically touching the glass. The humor of the situation gripped me and I arose and said You really are blind. This broke the ice and I joined the two very pretty young lady’s and offered them a drink, they accepted and the party began. I called my cousin Bob to join the group and we had a a very enjoyable time. At the closing of the bar, we had made considerable headway into establishing who we were, and after the good bys and see you laters in the parking lot, I obtained the tel # of the blind girl, Jeanette, her friend was Rosemary. I promised to call and we parted company.

5

The occasion was a job close to Salt Lake and I was staying in a motel, after work. It occurred to me that this would be a good time to call the pretty young lady that I had met. I made the call and opined that I would like to further our meeting and get acquainted, would she like to join me. To my obvious joy she accepted, joined me, and we had a hilarious, uplifting and satisfying time. This girl had opened up new vistas and a fresh approach to an exciting new lifestyle. Let The Dance Begin, was the mantra of this beautiful Woman, and she offered to make me a part of her exciting world. And so a 3rd relationship was to begin. Jeanette was a free soul, and her character reflected this. She had a three year old son, was separated from a Serviceman husband. As if, within keeping of the type of personality that she had, her transportation was a beat up old Chevy, and she resided in one pad after another, even after I met her. It was, as she indicated, a glorious party. A party that I was now a part of. She introduced me to a world of wonder and to friends that I marveled at. They were friends like family and easy to be with. Acquaintances were struck up and remained forever. These were folks that I had never had the opportunity to be around or to be a part of. The affair continued or I should say party, because Jeanette never tired of the DANCE. During this time she had moved several times, and I followed in wonder. It was on such a venture that she had taken up residency in an old Mobile home, in the south valley. One day while working in her yard, preparing her soil for a garden, I was struck with extreme stomach pains, and a subsequent visit to my health clinic indicated diverticulitis. My white blood cell count was off the wall, which required my immediate hospitalization. WOW. I subsequently discover, that invincible me, has an old mans disease, my God old age creeps up on you fast. I also learn, that it is a malady of the lower intestinal tract, something about pockets and wrinkles hosting in the intestinal walls Off to the hospital I go, concerned that this is going to take a couple of days out of my busy routine. Of immediate concern is getting my white blood cells down. lying in a hospital bed with a cadre of medical professionals pocking and probing for a suitable vein in which to start an IV. A few days, now comes reality. The visit with the Doc., He goes into great detail as to what Diverticulitis is, the forming of pockets in the lower intestine that gathers fecal matter as it passes thru. Unfortunately they don’t have a clue as to why these pockets form. They are only aware, that this is curiously, a Western Culture disease, no case has ever been reported from Africa. In your case, we are going to have to operate and remove the infected tissue. Unfortunately we cannot operate at this time, Your white blood cell count is too high We will have to wait until it comes down. Well there goes that several days assumption.

The days drag on and on and on, with nothing to eat but ice chips, (that’s exciting). It’s been 13 days and the count hasn’t budged. The only positive over this long haul is the continual appearance of my loved ones (many, and how do they miss running into each other) . The bad news arrives, they are going to have t o go in and fit me with a Colostomy bag. Oh My God. No permission granted, give me one more day. Was it intervention, my white blood cell count fell the following morning. Colostomy prevented. They sent me home the next day, and scheduled an operation for two months hence.

6

My Relationship with Jeanette resumed, it was as if I had been delivered. It was time for me to meet Sheilla, a woman that had befriended Jeanette, and saw her her through a tough pregnancy. Their bond was strong, their retinue unique. It comprised of Sheilla’s daughter, son and a lovely little lady that just belonged. This unique group was soon to become one of wonder and excitement. They were family personified, and their interpersonal relationship with each other, and friends, was something to behold. I was quickly, admitted and the feeling to be a part of such a group was almost overwhelming. Jeanette and I continued the dance, and we joined with Rosemary and Steve and I invited them to an excursion on Bear Lake, aboard my boat. It was to be a weekend of getting stoned, getting naked and having the time of our lives. For most of the time we spent on the boat in the middle of the Lake. I could see myself growing twice my size (munchies) and putting my job in peril. It was with reluctance that I had decided to toke only occasionally. The time was approaching, the impending operation a reality. Back to hospital, and under the knife, other than reducing my beautiful abs to ext ream distress, the operation was a success. It was only after investigation after the fact, that I was to learn that diverticulitis is caused by the lack of fiber In your diet. Ah what havoc, can be wrought by lack of knowledge.

7

After a long rehab following my surgery, my dance had come to an end. Back to normal, back in the game. Jeanette in the int rem, had met and made friends with a young mother of two from the midwest, on her way to employment in Elko NV. I was surprised to learn that Jeanette had agreed to accompany her and be a nanny to her two children while she, (Alice) set about her profession. That being, a lady of the night, in a bawdy house in said Elko. I was in total dismay, but, we had never discussed commitment, and I was suddenly set adrift. With my history, this was not to my liking. The party could not end this way, at least not for me. I secured a promise that I would be welcome and could come to Elko and visit. The round trips on the Greyhound were a good time for quiet contemplation of where this was taking me in this whirlwind of an affair. Our time together in Elko was one of wonder and total enjoyment of each others company. Alice (her nom de plume) in the bawdy house, was, on occasion permitted to come home and visit with her children. As far as the community was concerned her moving about was severally restricted. Jeanette on the other hand was amerced in her painting and redoing of this tiny abode. I secured permission to visit Alice’s place of employment, as a guest, not a patron and found the beautiful young women to be very animated and friendly. The Madam was charming and very hospitable. After about 3 months of these nocturnal visits, a meeting of the minds had occurred, and I talked Jeanette into moving to Cedar City Utah. She was thrilled at the prospect of having a home that she could renovate to her liking. RELOCATION, that is the issue at hand, and one that I would have to accomplish. First things first, break the news of my impending move. In Maxine’s case it would not be that difficult, our children were now young adults and following their own paths, the most difficult was the news to Wreatha. It was devastating, and one BIG regret that I have harbored over the years. It was a great shock to the children.

Next on the agenda would be, to present a workable plan to upper management on the possibility of a move to Cedar City. I approached my immediate Supervisor, for which I envisioned a foolproof proposal. For the past few years, the majority of my work had been in the So. part of the State. That resulted in losing two full days of working time to travel.

I pointed out that if I moved my base of operation to Cedar City, the two days would vanish, and the Co would benefit. I also pointed out that my circumstances would allow me to pay for the move and the Co. would not be obliged to pay for it. He presented the proposal to upper management and they were delighted. RELOCATION accomplishment met.

8

The other half of my being, is SPEIRS (maternal). My grandmother was very soft spoken, and possessed the GIFT of faith. She was also a woman put upon by hard times. Her husband had died of a heart attack on the year before my birth. In tow, and requiring help were the two youngest of her nine children, Orin Ralph, just a baby and Leroy Keller 5 years old. As I stated, with an impending depression just over the horizon, times were hard. She persevered with courage and dignity. Welfare was the name of the game, and her church saw to her welfare. She worked occasionally as hired help. It was at this juncture that my mother, myself and young brother had to return home. Father working, but unable to send any money home. As a result of this family circumstance, I literally grew up with my two uncles as siblings. Orin to be like a mentor and LeRoy being 6 years older as an adviser. And so it was, that I grew and matured and developed my personality, and I have to follow my destiny, whatever that may be.

9

RELOCATION now having been accomplished, the next thing to do is find a suitable place to live. Leroy the adviser was the one to accomplish many things for his younger charges. He