War & Johnny Carson's Shirt Size

Elle Smith Fagan  

a true story from the 1960's  dedicated to deployed military and their loved ones at home.

23 hrs · Edited · 

I was going to tell my happy  husband and Handsome Prince "when we're old" - a huge list of neat things couples  "keep in their hearts".   My handsome Prince got home from war just fine and to a fine successful life in work and love and fatherhood, but   I'll never get to tell him these things I saved.  He died  suddenly one morning,  well before retirement age.   But I can  share it with you:

He was an officer, with USACEngineers,  Black Diamonds special ops - showing Army Engineers how to NOT to use  the horribly carcinogenic Agent Orange  to clear foliage.   Just graduated with a degree in Chemistry, a healer - He loathed all  Chemical Warfare.   He enlisted before his draft notice arrived in July,  because, if he did so, he was promised that he could choose his job.

It was worthy , but it was war.  

The news shared a list of horrifying new war words daily, with "body bag" at the top!    I'd blanche and take a chair.   No Norman Rockwell and John Wayne easy patriotism - no.    Unable to sleep, the popular "Heeerrre's Johnnny!"  called my attention and tried to not be  "one tough audience" to get a laugh from -  though things for us were grim.  

Replying to audience comments and questions, he told us his shirt size !   What a guy won't say, to get a laugh!   But if you are Johhnnnnny, you can say ANYthing and bring down the house - even his shirt size won the moment.   OK, funny!

 But NOT for me;  Hypersensitive from love and fear, the mention of   "fourteen-and-a-half / thirty-two"  made me jump up -  Though my husband was taller, the shirt size was the same.  And suddenly for a moment I smiled in happy peace , remembering the first time I bought him a shirt, the first time I pressed one up for him for a fete, and the first time I trashed a worn out one that  he loved secretly and replaced it with a spotless twin.  Oh dear, I WAS missing him so much!

It was 1968 - there was no media - no internet  - no SKYPE - no email - nothing to bring reassuring live images of my deployed husband.   There was Silence, and often lost or delayed mail.  Food and other goodies I'd send were raided and never reached him.

I praised our baby, whose health made me NOT hold onto stress that would upset the infant in my arms.   Being a good mommy meant NOT hugging our son tighter than I should over it.  

But the silly moment worked and  after that night,  I'd watch Johnny Carson and fix on that shirt size, over and over - for the power of a factoid to generate connectivity.   It worked, somehow, till my husband's tour was done.   It was a way of poking fun at my own fears. 

My late husband's homecoming from war remains the  happiest day of my life - surpassing our wedding, our children's births, and even my art at the White House.   Till then Death was there constantly taunting me with promises to destroy all the work and love of my own birth and development to make a fine adult life.  Fear taunting constantly, no matter how cool and good and brave and busy I could be.  

But,  NO - you won't win this one....LIFE this time.   My Lieutenant USACE Black Diamonds - some months later,  walked through that door at LaGuardia - HOME - "all ten fingers, all ten toes",   and the love better than ever for the test!  

No Johnny Carson story for him - NOT that day.  Time - the gift of time was ours - no rush.   My husband had plenty of stories, as well, but one look at one another and we exulted :   "We'll talk about it when we're old!  We're not gonna have a problem ."  And we didn't!   Boundlessly grateful there was no PTS  for us!    Life - we won our right to a good life - with a  down-payment on the mortgage for it.  

   Even years later, with our babies half grown and softly sleeping in the next room , curled up safe and sound,  "watching Carson" with my husband - I'd sometimes remember the time of his deployment and that night when I was saved by "Johnny Carson's shirt size" on tv;  and I'd  feel  "moreso"  blessed for a moment,  by comparison to those late nights alone, with nothing but a fixation on a "shirtsize-in-common" to help me hold onto my mind.  Grateful praise !

Even widowed, years later I am fine and thriving for the goodness of the many years we made and enjoyed so well!

 To all who serve and to all who love them,   l send a good wish and a prayer that the Angels send at least a helpful bit of silliness, like "Johnny Carson's Shirt Size" to help any who need one.

---

---

---

Labor Day 1953

Note: featuring the happy stories about Mother for the next few days - this is her week - she passed in her sleep before Monday morning12/11/17, at just shy of 92....she is free to be our angel always. I love you, Mother!

Life was very very good for the Smith Clan of Fairfield after WWII - all the sons who served, home and decorated for their heroism for Army Engineers in the Battle of the Bulge, Army Communications, Marines, Army Infantry,  Army MPs, and our Dad Pioneer Army Air Corps "Smitty the Flight Mechanic" .  All home and married to their sweethearts who served on the home front and all grateful and joyfully working at grand new jobs and raising families. 

Photoshop needed here - but it's Father's fun with new camera day and all three of us with Mother at one time. Rare to get us all to stand still together that long.

Exuberant Gram and Gramps so proud and nearing their 50th wedding anniversary, and fit for it, joined the annual Labor Day Picnic - a patriotic work song celebration - and this  year it was at Auntie Em's big homestead, to save Gram the work for a change at their "Little White House".

Mother was tall and lovely and expecting her third child very soon and fidgeted that morning, wondering if it was wise to join seven Irish sons and a daughter and their respective families at the blowout event of the year.   She had experienced a false labor, a trip to hospital to deliver, but home again, and NOT deflated enough -  so it could be any time now.  But the All-American Smith Family day found her doing her part with the women, setting up the table and presenting the feast, as the men talked over their game of horseshoes and the children helped with chores and played running and swinging games at the fine large place under the trees and in the field with the sheep and one good donkey.

NOT without caprice, Mother thought it might help things along to overdo the watermelon-eating and did.  Sure enough !     The second trip the hospital soon followed, and blushing, back to face the crowd at the picnic in an hour,  from a second false labor.  Father and the others making jokes about my Mother's desire to "go have this baby" on Labor Day made for a LOT of extra fun that day, for everyone but our Mother and the baby! 

But she was NOT wrong to feel like getting things going - when our sister Lori was born on September 18th, she was not fat, but a very long baby weighing in at 9 pounds 3 ounces!  No wonder she felt it MIGHT be time!  Third millennium medicine would have been able to image it out and let Mother deliver earlier, but back then, no.    And...Since Lori soon developed normally in size, it WAS surely just a long pregnancy resulting in high birth weight.  This one remains a family favorite LORISTORY , all these years later!   Hope you enjoyed it! 

And always a quick prayer and a wish that all who ARE in labor on this American Labor Day, enjoy a celebration of life of it all - today and always! 

My radio show - if I had one - Thanksgiving 2017 musings...

I promised to post this today.   my show.... What would I call it?   The funny name club show?  Sassy seniors with long hair?  Snak-l-frok !

But it is not like that - my name means light and if I had a show it would be to bring light into a dark place - many dark places.  Confront dilemmas and mysteries and get them solved.

My housekeeper said "you really get things done" - and there is that feeling of a doing a thing for the world - but I want to focus on things my Normal Rockwell Childhood brought to table for action - then tabled and never done.   

I think "Occupant Safety & Escape Technology" for planes and tall buildings would lead my campaigns - for years death from their failure has NOT been necessary, but no one is making them do it.  In fact, I'd put it away, then forgot it - parents' orders.  Then on NINELEVEN, I literally had to grab the counter to NOT fall down, when the memory found me and stunned me.   NO ONE needed to die that day.  NO ONE.   If the escape tech had been done on time, two things, in fact would have happened:  if attacked occupants could safely leave the plane or building FAST - super fast.  But with such tech in place, terrorists may  have skipped it for an idea, since there would be so few victims.

On my show, I could invite the dozens of contacts whose job it was to make and use the Technology but who could not or would not.  I would talk with them to see what it would take to win the breakthrough.

This is a priority topic: lives depend on it and I am still a good redcrosslady.   But I do  have a  list of topics I would share from my own experience and observation - I will add them here or linked.

We have so much for which to give Thanks!   BECAUSE we got things done, leaping to meet opportunities and win through obstacles -  and no other reason!

Hallowe'en Stories of a Sort

Writings2 RSS

Do not let the cheery pumpkins fool you - I have scary stories to share at Halloween at this true stories blog.  But should they be shared at all?  Grownup scary stories are not pretty. 

Mayborn, my life has been a blessing, and very normal;  these stories only a fraction of my generally happy life.   More -  these stories  enjoyed happy endings,  but I certainly do have my moments - and then I realize most folks do.

  Life is not "Trick or Treat" but Trick AND Treat ! 

A list of my scary stories - details on request - or maybe added here as possible, with lead in and outcomes included.

There is the story of why I am why there are child-guard caps.

• There is the story of life with no pulse at all, for varied reasons during the years at war. 
• There is the story of childbirth and not dying like two of the grammas doing it - just almost.
• There is the story of how a  woman's hair can stand on end, exactly like the "Little Rascals" movies, when her love dies suddenly at her feet
• There is the story of abandonment by loyals, and being harassed by new, completely inappropriate, spouse material, or none at all .
• There is the story of raids upon a grieving lady and her children for anything not tied down.
• There is the story of rescuing staff of noble personages in panic over the recession, staff being exploited to the point of slavery.
• There is the story of being exploited and left for dead in a shelter for two years.  And like Sherlock Holmes' famous cormorant story...the world isn't ready for it yet.
• There is the story of how these scary stories could not possibly have happened - but did, prudence notwithstanding. 
• There is the story of the destruction of fourteen years of honored online existence and the near-destruction of its business.
• There is the story for this year: attacked by a mix of stinging insects and stopped counting at over 55 bites  -  my main job was not screaming. 
• There is the story of wondering IF to tell such scary stories, knowing it might bring the reprisals we are guaranteed cannot happen in America. 
• There is the story that there is not a "thirty million dollars" in my bank account for fair compensations for the clear malfeasances.  Oh yes..that, to this proud American is the worst, the scariest!  
• There is the story of the "Troop Beverly Hills" moments, when the nail polish error cost negative impact to the entire integumentary system....and stuff like that.

And yet... to tell these truly terrifying stories effectively, I'd need to be paid enough for the spa afterward to make repairs from the angst, and a nice retainer for the right attorney to protect me.

Would it only insult what is otherwise the most wonderful Golden Autumn Day full of pumpkins, friends, good work  and the Autumn Art Shows under way and me able to be part of it all?

 Would it help or hurt the honeymoon with  my new Mac and being able to run again and dance and drive after spinal injury and earning the cash for the car with fine artwork I am able to do?  

 Would I win my justice or undo my happiness?

SOME of it I must pursue and win, or be remiss.  Some is hopeless and timed out.  Some of it stays as a thing to peck at and eventually resolve. One point may need very hard work to win through...and risk...and danger of only creating another scary story to survive.

What do you think? 

Scary, no? 

Happy Halloween!

Elle

Saving Connecticut's Old State House - Petition to Sign, Please

Connecticut's Old State House with a golden statue of JUSTICE atop - needs some herself!

UPDATE August 2016

"The oldest State House in America is now closed to the public amid Connecticut’s budget problems. In addition, millions of dollars worth of artwork could be removed from the building."  Google - WNPR link

Please click and sign the petition to save this wonderful site from closure.

https://www.change.org/p/state-of-connecticut-do-not-close-connecticut-s-old-state-house?recruiter=2948991&utm_source=share_for_starters&utm_medium=copyLink

July 28, 2016 - Sign the linked petition here BECAUSE: 
 today's paper tells that the artifacts are being removed from the  recently closed down site to protect them better at the Atheneum and the Connecticut Historical Society. Sad news but good news for their safety. This move is said to be temporary as new leadership hopes to do a  LOT better job of keeping the key historic site self-supporting.   LIARS - that building should be done like Sturbridge Village, since it's unique funnctionality in Colonial Days absolutely Dazzles but NO  ONE has been promoting it AT ALL. I think they mean to kill  her.

IN JUNE 2016,  while closing down my computer for the night, the breaking news alert notification kept me on a new job till late.  Whyyyyy just at Independence Day , would my beloved homestate close this icon site, which has only recently been renovated ?  The golden statue of JUSTICE, symbolically, is barely visible in this official photo, though her new gold paints normally gleam proudly in the sun and brighten a rainy day.  Funding and cutbacks were cited as the reason, but not very convincing. The Petition lists ways to fix.

Please click and sign the petition to save this wonderful site from closure.

https://www.change.org/p/state-of-connecticut-do-not-close-connecticut-s-old-state-house?recruiter=2948991&utm_source=share_for_starters&utm_medium=copyLink

This site WAS Connecticut's capitol, till the larger one was built a century or so later.   It stood and served all life in the area and in early America.   And with not much else around, one block from the Connecticut River, the Old State House was the nearest to  the river life line in those days.     Rules were made and important history to all of America - not just Connecticut- happened there and the building is used daily today.  Not profitably enough, but that's easy to fix.

  This video will tell you more - click here for it.
 

Personally, I developed just a silly love for "OSH" as she is called -  when I first visited Hartford back to my home state, after 20 years in the big world, it was like seeing a lot of it for the first time, and often seeing old sites with new eyes. And especially OSH.

Suddenly I saw her in a personified light:  My paternal Grandmother was alive again, a tiny dolly , surrounded by her many tall children and grandchildren!   The anachronism she presents, in the landscape, making her just that more wonderful, sitting pat, on that spot, among companions two centuries newer.    She is my Grammy and I simply felt too personally upset by the news to NOT act.

Old State House is a genial Happy Cat on a carpet before a fire, much-loved by her  companions.  

What on EARTH would make anyone think it is okay to change that?  We need her in this world.   And why hurt this historic site AT Independence Day, America's Historically Proud Birthday! 

The petition has some signatures already and I have done only modest promotion. More to come. Comment here or on the petition.   Those with power to change the closure will be getting updates - it is part of the petition's machinery.  Make it count!

elle

Photo Stories for my Soldier 1968

A friend shared her firstborn son's four-month  baby photo story at Facebook this morning and improved Monday measurably!  Thanksomuch, Jessica !   Mother and child are a gift to life itself!  It reminded me of our own son's baby days!   May this post help do my part for veterans and all loving parents.

The story:   My new husband and Corps of Engineers Lieutenant liked my Red Cross work  as he prepared for deployment with work as Assistant Brigade Adjutant at Fort Knox, Kentucky.  Partners in it all,  and now parenthood too!  Our new marriage was getting really good!   So he obtained an extension on his departure date so he could be there for the birth and the early christening, and then off to war, when our son was 22 days old.   But we had run along with our cameras as sweethearts and newlywed, and promised to let photos continue to help us stay close.  

I'd plan the photo shoot and get busy - back and forth as photographer and with a drafted helper, then, into the photo myself for my mommy role.  Then the editing:  I’d assemble the stories with captions and send them on to his Daddy in Viet Nam. 

With his degree in Chemistry and hatred for Chemical warfare,  he was proud to be with His USACE Special Ops group, "Black Diamonds",  bridge-building and getting rid of Agent Orange.   To be sure to get that job, my late husband took on Construction work as a summer job and was required to enlist before his draft notice arrived. They would be sent at birthdays, and his was in July, so not much graduate partying in June, but running to Army Recruiting to get in on time.    

I don't know what sort of mass hypnosis we use to make it bearable, but war is "like, dangerous" and they were not showing enough John Wayne movies!   His job was not especially combat of any sort, but they all took their turn at duties with guns.   I was twenty-one and in love;  I pretended it was just “post partum”   stuff when I swooned from horror at the dangers he faced...he and friends and neighbors' sons and soon, my Brother.   The wonderful new Playtex baby nurser with super safe  disposable bags was fun.   But an innovation called "body bags" was not.  I never stopped getting sick at the idea of bagging people. They needed a much more respectful term for it, and insistence use of that term. Both soldiers and newscasters were awful in their deliberate disrespect when they used the term. 

Unable to cry, desperate to do something to help, all I could do, was find the good perfumed stationery and send the photo stories and pray a lot, and " not make waves" .   There was no SKYPE and no digital imaging, but now the photo stories for my lieutenant got serious in their mission.   Keeping up morale when those who were supposed to do and say supportive things were NOT.    And what if my pathetic efforts got lost in the famously-horrible mail?  The popcorn and cookies I sent NEVER got there.  Once his letters did not get to me for weeks and once mine did not reach him and the letters back were full of his concern as were mine to him, by the time they arrived, it was frustration to read them, since the issue had passed.

Young and low-budget or not,  there was money for at least two copies of the photo essays.   Head and heart in the production to keep it light and helpful for all the best fun.   The christening and the bath time stories remain my favorite -  wiggly before, splashing during, full of delight.  And after?  One he'd love with  happy, sleepy, clean and dry baby and happily wet and messy Mommy.   His Father's letters in reply were full of love and praise  for the joy the stories brought in the middle of a war.   The highchair mealtimes, the fun in the stroller and  other photo stories - easy!     How good to know that they helped!  

And, thanks to the extension on the deployment, Daddy was home in time for his son's first haircut and baby's first Christmas  - Father and Son together "all ten fingers - all ten toes" - my favorite baby picture story of all!