A WHOLE NEW WORLD

(circa 1966-1967)

Fort Hood, Texas is a H-U-G-E army base, housing two armored divisions.  The Vietnam war was beginning its massive build-up when Bill and I arrived.  The Army town of Killeen, Texas became our temporary, unwanted home for 22 very long months and we began the arduous task of adjusting to our new life.

We were two kids suddenly thrust into a new, unknown world, away from everything we had ever known.  Church, which had been our center for social activity and friends and attendance at which, we considered our Christian duty, was now 1,382.5 miles away.  Now there was no one who expected us to show up at services or pray or give or do anything that was expected of a “good Christian” – and so we didn’t.  We became what we had previously self-righteously disdained:  “Chreasters” (those that come to church only on Christmas and Easter).  We basically forgot about God.

LIVING ON A SHOESTRING

Everything about life changed.  Our income had dropped to an impossibly low amount.  We both had to quit our full-time jobs in California (Bill, as a machinist at Lockeed Aircraft and me as a Legal Secretary Trainee in Hollywood).  Let’s do the math:  our income dropped to a total of $247 per month.  Our rent was $50 and our car payment was $50.  That left $147 for utilities, food, gasoline, car insurance, laundry, etc.  Hmmm…

Creativity became a necessity.  Stretching a package of hot dogs to 3 meals or 1 can of tuna for 2 meals of tuna casserole became an art form.  Spaghetti stretched pretty well too.  Sometimes Bill would be assigned KP duty so he would occasionally bring home mess hall leftovers – 5-gallon containers of milk or huge sheet cakes.  These were godsends.  Going out to dinner was out of the question and buying a 5-cent ice cream cone at Dairy Queen was a real luxury.

GIs would get paid on the first of the month, in cash.  We didn’t have a bank account so we would hide 20-dollar bills behind pictures in our wedding album.  Toward the end of the month our money was totally gone and we would barely hang on until the next payday.  One month, however, we had somehow forgotten a $20 bill hiding behind a picture and I accidentally discovered it just a few days before the end of the month.  We thought we had died and gone to heaven.  The steak dinner and movie that night was unforgettable.

For our first anniversary (July 31, 1966), my mom and dad sent us $25.  What a celebration we had!  We drove to Waco, got a motel room (with genuine air conditioning – the first good night’s sleep we had gotten in months), ate dinner at a Black Angus Steakhouse, went to a movie and even had money left over.

During the Vietnam War build-up promotions in rank were easily achieved, so it wasn’t long before Bill began to make more money.  Eventually he rose in rank to E-5 (Spec 5 and then Sergeant).  I had tried to get a job in Killeen, but jobs for Army wives were a rarity.  However, I applied for unemployment and it was finally granted to me.  One day our income doubled!  We were really living “high on the hog” then!

AUSTIN, A WELCOME RESPITE

Finally we were able to do some traveling (and at 17¢/gallon it was affordable).  We discovered the beautiful city of Austin – a welcome relief from Killeen and refreshing destination on many Saturday nights.  There was nothing better than pizza and a movie!  We often went with our best friends, Randy & Mary Kay.

Late one night in early spring, as we were driving back to Killeen on a 2-lane country road, Randy, who had consumed a little too much beer and pizza, announced that he was going to throw up.  By the time Bill swerved to the side of the road it was too late.  “Recycled” beer and pizza were everywhere in the back seat of our beautiful yellow Ford Fairlane.  We all flew out of our now-stinking car, gagging in disgust, trying to decide what to do with the mess.  We had no paper towels or water or anything with which to clean.  All there was at the side of the road was an abundance of grass.  Between Bill, Mary Kay and me, it was unanimously voted that Randy would be in charge of the mess.  So he harvested an armful of green grass to cover up the mess, as we stood at a safe distance.  He was relegated to the back seat while Mary Kay got in the front seat with Bill and me.  We rode the rest of the way home with the windows down, noses plugged, shivering in the cold wind.

Our car was never the same.  We cleaned and cleaned and cleaned.  We took out the carpet, washed it and even painted the metal underneath.  No matter how much we cleaned, the back seat always emitted the faint aroma of recycled beer and pizza, a fitting reminder of our dear friend, Randy.

THE ART OF HOMEMAKING (?)

I was a stay-at-home Army wife without much to do.  So my life began to revolve around daytime soap operas.  If I had to do errands I would schedule them around my favorite soaps.  Every week Mary Kay and I would go to a laundromat that had a TV and we made sure our wash cycle had started by the beginning of “As the World Turns” and we wouldn’t leave until the end of “Days of Our Lives”.  By the time “General Hospital” finished, Bill would be home and dinner would be ready.

Besides watching soap operas, I also tried experimenting with more creative cooking.  One day I decided to bake a pie.  Mom had a recipe for the best pie crust but she never wrote it down for me.  However, she would recite it in a little sing-song voice: “A cup and a third, a third and three.”  Simple – right?  I knew that the ingredients consisted of flour, oil, milk and a little salt, but I couldn’t remember which ingredient was what.  Unfortunately, long distance phone calls were expensive and were only used in emergencies.  This did not qualify as an emergency so I tackled the project on my own.

I carefully measured 1 1/3 cups of oil, 1/3 cup of milk and 3 cups of flour, a little salt and mixed it all together.  Something was seriously wrong.  It turned out like thick soup.  Not wanting to waste ingredients, I began to add flour until it looked like the right consistency.  I rolled it out, just like Mom had expertly done countless of times.  I placed it perfectly in the pie pan and baked it to a golden brown.  It was beautiful – that is, until I accidentally dropped it on the floor.  After it bounced out of the pie tin and across the kitchen floor, I picked it up, realizing that something was very, very wrong.  A pie crust should not bounce.  So I tried to cut it with a knife but it was too tough.  The only way I could break it was to hit it on the corner of the table.  Where was my mom when I needed her?  She was so far away!

I quickly wrote her a letter, asking for clarification on her recipe.  After about 10 days her reply arrived in the mail, instructing me that the pie crust ingredients should consist of 1 1/3 cups of flour, 1/3 cup of oil and 3 tablespoons of milk (and a little salt too).  Ahhh, now I got it – and finally baked an edible pie.

GOD’S TENDER CARE

Our life didn’t include very much “God”.  Yes, we still believed in him – that was part of our DNA and on Sundays we did feel a little twinge of guilt for not going to church.  We never prayed for God to provide our food or gasoline or electricity.  We never asked God for friends or for safety.  No, we pretty much forgot about God.  However, He never forgot about us.

We never realized how he was always there; always caring for us – always providing what we needed – always protecting us – always loving us.  He was like a mother hen, spreading his wings over us, sheltering us, protecting us, nurturing us, tenderly brooding over us.  He knew what our life would become … and he patiently waited…

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I will be found by you,” declares the Lord.  (Jeremiah 29:11-14a)

…and that’s what happened – eventually…