War Stories & Other Lies

By Jerry Key

Born August 1944, shortly before the end of WWII, Jerry was always fascinated by rumors of peace and prosperity. Unfortunately, he had siblings and cousins that constantly cracked him on the head and stole his allowance. He entered elementary school (called grade school in the old days) and soon found many friends that also cracked him on the head and stole his money. He led a life of poverty so severe he couldn't even afford a camera to take pictures of his measly existence. He survived by eating beans and potatoes and cornbread nearly every meal. Finally, he entered Valley High School and soon rose to the top of his class (well, pretty close as vice president) and prospered by using all the techniques used on him to crack heads and steal the money of his classmates. College during the 60's was a learning experience. Mostly he learned he didn't want to work all his life, so upon graduation, he joined the USAF and became the (self-proclaimed) world's greatest fighter pilot. After a year's vacation in Vietnam and three years in England, he settled in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he continued to fly fighter planes for the New Mexico Air National Guard and owned a couple businesses. He became a real estate tycoon (i.e., slum lord) and finally went to work for Continental Airlines as a pilot, retiring in 2004 with over fifteen thousand hours flying time. He now is a land baron (thirty acres) and lives on his estate near Savannah, Tennessee, with his wife and dog. Unfortunately, his current wife cracks him on the head and takes his money. Some things in life never change. In this surprisingly funny memoir, writer Jerry Key looks back at his life and offers a comical and uncanny view from childhood mishaps to retirement some sixty years later, but he reveals valuable life lessons that apply to us all. Most of all, this book provides a journey of living life and enduring life experiences with the insight of wisdom and a positive outlook.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098003470

Book preview

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War Stories and Other Lies

Jerry Key

Copyright © 2019 by Jerry Key

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Preface

When I decided to write a book, it was not a big deal. I thought I would just tell some stories and pass them on to my nieces and nephews. I had an uncle that served in WWII. He would tell stories of his war days, and my brother and I were spellbound listening to them. Since I have no kids of my own, I thought I should bore my own nieces and nephews with what I remember of how I spent my life. Of course, it got a lot more involved than that, and now, I am writing a preface for my own book. I’m still not too sure, but to make this look like a real book, I am putting in some information here to try to get you to read my book.

This is a very interesting book, but I say that mainly because it is about my life. I relate several things that influenced me to think and act the way I have for more than seventy years. My early jobs included working in the school lunch room, sales clerk, pickle factory job, cabinet maker, lunch wagon driver, lathe operator in a machine shop, subject in psychology experiments (hmmm…that explains a lot), school teacher, and lawn worker. That is not a complete list, but it does show that I never found my true calling for a while.

From an early age, I thought I was going to become a doctor, but when I started flying, I knew that was much easier and more fun than actually working for a living. I had caught a glimpse of another world, and I knew I had to be a part of it.

The early chapters in this book tell how I jumped from job to job while attending school. Those jobs only served to convince me that I didn’t want to work for a living. I saw education as the way around all those jobs.

Finally, riding around in an airplane seemed easy enough and I get paid for it too! What a bonus. You will see that the book really takes off when I get to that part. (Get it? Takes off…)

This book is about my life as I remember it and what a blessed person I have been. I have been as honest and truthful as I can in recalling the events related herein. There are a lot more stories I could have told and many more adventures that have populated my life than what I have penned here, but these, hopefully, will give you a glimpse into how I became who I am and why I am sure I am the most blessed person I know.

Additionally, there are several people that have helped and influenced me along the way, but the tales told here give a pretty good example of what got me through. I hope you find them humorous and relaxing.

Acknowledgments

Iam not really sure where to begin on giving thanks for all the encouragement I have gotten during my life. When I thought about writing down some of my life experiences, I was thinking the whole book should just be a list of people that have made my path so much easier and fulfilled. (Not much of a plot there.) The most obvious people would be my family, Mom, Dad, and my brother and sister, Jim and Beverly. First, without Mom and Dad, I wouldn’t be here, and their love means so much more to me.

Thanks to Jim for not pounding me into the ground when he should have. Thanks to Beverly for not telling on me as often as she should have. All of my teachers in Sunday school and public school sure formed me into the person I have become, good or bad. I always got along good with my peers in school, and they boosted me along. My best friends in grade school (Ronnie Johnson, Danny Blakeman, and Joe Troutman, among others) and in high school (Gary Kingry, Jack Hubble, George Walker, Ronnie Linton, Johnny Warren, and many more) all helped me in innumerable ways. My high school classmates, both the boys and girls (especially Janeen Engleman Langley, my best e-mail buddy) kept me to the task when I was wavering; they all are so important to me. They all added so much to my life that I could never repay. I have been fortunate to have traveled the world, and I carried them all in my heart with me. Many of them don’t even know how much I loved having their memories accompany me through the years. We still have an annual high school class gathering, and the year would be so empty without getting to see them again.

Others that have pushed me along, in a good way, included my bosses and Air Force officers and airmen that gave me so much encouragement and direction. In some cases, I succeeded in spite of them, not because of them. That too helped me become what and who I am.

I don’t want to forget my flying buddies, Steve Suiter, Steve Smith, Tom Wittman, Mike Chase, Rick Radtke, George Latham, as well as Dick Dorso (RIP), Nick Manso, and Dick Leonardo. These guys have taught me so much about life as well as flying airplanes. I could go on and on, but space doesn’t allow that.

I must acknowledge the preachers and pastors that have provided spiritual guidance for me. Brother Frank Griffin (RIP), Jim Corbett, Dr. John Stover, and Brother Randy Isbell are just four of the many that will be given extra stars in their crowns. Several more have provided me with the illuminated pathway I have followed.

And I publicly thank God and my personal Savior Jesus Christ for the price He paid to secure my salvation. Words cannot express the joy and comfort He provides moment to moment. Without Him, I would not be where I am today and I would not be who I am today.

And finally, my thanks to Christian Publishing and in particular thanks to Donna and Sarah for providing guidance and encouragement to get my book in print and without whose help this would never have been possible.

Now I know I have forgotten many, many people that have pushed and pulled me in the direction I have chosen. Since I can’t remember their names or don’t have the space to put them in here, I provide the following line where you can insert your own name.

My special thanks to ________________________

_______ for all the love and guidance throughout my life.

Introduction

Every generation has its war. World War I was called the Great War. World War II was the war to end all wars. Today’s generation is fighting the War on Terror. I fear that one will last far beyond this generation and well into the future. There is no war that will satisfy mankind’s cruelty to mankind. But for my generation, it was the Vietnam War. Many opposed it, many believed in it, many ignored it, but we all were touched by it in some way.

I have a theory that if you talk to someone for more than fifteen minutes, you will discover what they consider the defining moment of their life. For some, it is career or children while some are events that stand out as the most influential or meaningful in their life. For some lucky few, there can be more than one defining moment or event. I am such a man. I have been blessed with enough such events that life has remained exciting and interesting for over seven decades so far. But if I had to choose just one, I guess it would be the Vietnam War. In the long history of this nation, few have been given the privilege of defending our freedom. Only those who have shared that privilege know the honor that has been bestowed on them.

As I look back, I recognize a lot of events that took place prepared me for that long ago summer vacation paid for by the great tax payers of this country. I also see things that later in my life have a thread back to that year I spent in a foreign land, trying to do what I was charged with to deliver freedom to those people. My part in the Vietnam War was small but vital, just one of many passing through the turnstiles into and out of that part of history. Nonetheless, if you spend any great amount of time in conversation with me, I am sure to bring up the subject soon enough. It is part of what I am and part of what I became. I am proud of that, and sometimes I wear it on my sleeve, all too open and visible. That is what defining moments are: a garment that helps define us to the rest of the world and even to ourselves.

I think the trick is to not get stuck on only one defining moment or event in life. I know a man that was a star basketball player in high school. I think that was the last thing he feels defines him although he had a career and family later on. He is kind of stuck on that time in his life when he was the center of attraction. I urge you to have as many defining moments as possible, and may they all be good ones.

Into every life there comes a time that you will have to make a choice. You will be called upon to do the right thing no matter the personal cost. It is a heavy decision. The easy way out is not always the right thing to do. Lots of times you see this in business. The success of a big payoff depends on doing something just a little bit wrong, taking a shortcut, acting in a nearly right way. But if you do the morally right thing, you will not get the big bucks this time. In your gut, you can feel what is right, but you will be torn to make a different choice. The morally right choice is often very painful. It sometimes requires a denial of self. You will be criticized and scorned. But deep inside you will know when your time has come. I pray you will recognize the time, and I urge you to pick the right course of action.

There is such a thing as right and wrong in life. Today’s society fails to recognize that, and when that happens, evil can become as nondescript as anything else. It can be like a vine climbing into a tree, slowly creeping over every branch, slowly taking over. If it goes unchallenged, it will soon choke the very life from its host. Those who have the power to stop evil but do nothing are not worthy of the power they have. I actually think they are as bad as the evil doers themselves for they allow the evil to take place. A child that is abused by one parent while the other parent stands by and does nothing, a nation that stands by while another nation is slaughtered, people raped and killed by a dictator while the world ignores it as none of my business all will have to answer to a higher power someday. The power to prevent these kinds of abuses also carries a huge responsibility. That responsibility is as heavy as the power. When you have the power, use it wisely.

Okay, that was a free lecture from atop my soapbox. No charge for that one.

Life is what we make of it. This is what I have made of my life, at least it is the way I see it.

Chapter 1

If you could see what once I was, if you could go with me, back to where I started from then I know you would see, a miracle of love that took me in its embrace and made me what I am today, just a sinner saved by grace.

—Sinner Saved By Grace

Gaither, Gloria; Humphries,

Mitch; Gaither, William

Early life

Well, I started this life on August 15, 1944. Now that was near the end of World War II, but of course, I don’t remember it. I do have a few memories of my early days but just a bit here and there. I remember when I was about two or three, my mom had made some bread pudding for dessert. We must have had a rat problem because she put rat poison in the leftovers, meaning, to put it out to kill the rats, and just as she turned around, there I was with a big handful eating it. Well, this sent them rushing me to the hospital to have my stomach pumped out. A life lesson: everything that looks like dessert isn’t.

I guess when I was just a baby, I had a lot of trouble keeping anything down. I was continually throwing up my formula or whatever they fed babies back in the old days. For a while they thought I wouldn’t make it. But I fooled them, and here I am today. They also thought I was going to be twins before I was born. Ha! Fooled them again.

One of my next memories was riding with my dad as he drove a semitruck. He took me on a trip with him once, and I remember how tired I got. I just laid over him and slept. Now I don’t know why I remember that but I do. At one time, he owned three or four trucks of his own and ran them on the road. He also owned an ice cream store…like a Dairy Queen place. This was at the corner of Old Third Street and Pages Lane in Valley Station, Kentucky. But he sold out and moved up to Mitchell Lane about 1948 or 1949, I think. We built the house up there ourselves. Of course, I am sure I wasn’t much help. One of my first memories there was the day Dad was taking us to school, and as he backed out of the driveway, my brother Jim, who was sitting at the passenger door, fell out and Dad backed over his shoulder. The driveway was big stones, about the size of golf balls, and Jim hit one and got a big X cut under his eye…still visible today at age sixty-two.

Another memory I have, another life lesson I can remember, was when I was in the first grade. We didn’t have much money, so we didn’t get many toys. There was a boy who sat in front of me in school, and he had gotten a new pair of cowboy gloves. They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. They were felt with a plastic cuff and cowboy fringe. Well, when he put them under his desk, I just had to have them, so I took them. When I got home, of course Mom wanted to know where I had gotten them, and I told her I took them from the boy at school. The punishment was to go back to school the next day and stand in front of the whole class and tell them I had stolen them and then I had to return them to the boy. I was crying and felt so ashamed. That was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life. Of course, it made a very deep impression on me because to this day, I can remember how terrible I felt. It has kept me from stealing to this day, so I guess it was also very effective. This life lesson goes something like this: Idiot! What were you thinking? Don’t steal because the punishment is worse than the pleasure you get from it.

I always loved school. I can even remember a lot of my school teachers’ names, even from elementary school. I loved making friends, and I loved the praise I got when I got good grades and pleased the teacher and my parents. I was a pretty inquisitive kid, and school helped satisfy that curious side of me. Because I wanted the praise and wanted to learn, school came pretty easy for me. I did work hard, but I was always a clown and enjoyed making all the other kids laugh. Once, I got kicked out of class for being too rowdy, and so I had to tone it down a bit…but not too much. As I remember, my report cards always had good grades and a remark that I talked too much in class. I always wanted to show that I knew the answer, but I wanted to entertain too. In the fifth grade, we had a Halloween party, and I had a pig mask. It was a full-face rubber one, and I found that I could pucker my lips under the mask and the pig face would mimic the movement, so it looked like the pig mask was actually alive. I won the costume contest, and it was great, entertaining, and the prize winner. I attended a very small grade school called Penile Elementary. Each grade only had one class—one first grade, one second grade, etc.—so me and about twenty-five other kids went through our entire elementary education together as a group. That means we were all good friends for many years. I still have a picture of my grade-school group and remember about twenty of their names.

We used to ride a school bus to school, and once, for some reason I don’t remember, I missed the bus home. I was in a panic, not knowing what would happen to me. I thought I would never get home again, but somehow I made it. I don’t remember how; I just remember how frightened a small boy was.

Another memory I have is once, I was walking around at recess and found a nickel on the ground. Man, I was excited to find money lying on the ground. For the next week, I continually looked at the ground anytime I was outside, but I don’t remember ever finding any more money that way. It was exciting at the time though.

Our elementary school had a cistern for a water supply, so all the kids had to get typhoid shots every year. We really hated that because it made our arm very sore for a week or so. We couldn’t even lift it up. We also had to carry in coal in a bucket for the stove in the classroom. That was a job for the boys. The prize job was dusting the erasers. Everyone wanted to do that, but I can’t remember why. I just remember we all wanted to do it. We also had outdoor toilets. They weren’t heated, of course, which made it pretty cold in the winter.

I have been a lot of different things in my life, and I have pictures to prove it. Once, I was a member of Hell’s Angles, the famous motorcycle gang. It was in my younger days, and I wasn’t the leader of the gang, but here is the proof.

That is me on the right, my brother, Jim, on the left, and our cousin Woody in the center.

Then I was a famous NASCAR driver. Back in those early days, we had to build our own cars, and to save weight, we decided not to use an engine. We had push power, and