TO KATIEROSE:

I met your father at Naval Schools Command at Great Lakes, Illinois in 1967.  We both were studying to be Naval Electronic Technicians — first, at the Navy’s Basic Electronics School and then, Electronic Technician “A” School.   All of us who were assigned to  E.T. “A” School were obligated to extend our enlistment  for an additional two years of service due, to length of time we would be spending at the school and the amount of money the government would be investing us.  It was during that time that your father met and fell in love with your mom, in Milwaukee.  Hard to believe that a half-century have passed since that time.  So you will have to forgive me if my memory is missing some detail.  Over the following years until  just before we lost him, your father and I  would run into each other from time to time in different parts of the globe.

I  remember that your father was from the D.C. /Virginia area, however he told me he had spent part of his youth in Hawaii.  Wilkinson (We all called each other by our last names) used to say he loved surfing and would talk a lot about how much he missed it.   No surfable waves on the Great Lakes.

I remember your father being man with a great sense of humor, studious and disciplined in that regard.  Some that course-material we had to deal with was pretty tedious.  I struggled more with it than he did.

The course of study was broken into two-week intervals.   Every other Friday,  we would take an exam in order to progress to the next level — or not.  At the end of every two weeks we would celebrate, regardless.   Most of us were under 21.   Not that much of a problem, particularly in Wisconsin where you could drink beer at 18.  Your father was a Budweiser guy.   Bourbon was my poison, at the time.   He would go to Milwaukee.   One time, he returned with a story of this great young woman he had met, Marilyn.   She was it from that point on.   Ironically,  I did not get to meet your future mother until many years later.   In those days, I usually headed south to Chicago on those alternate weekends.  It reminded me of New York; the people were friendly and the chances of running into Shore Patrol was almost non-existent.   Chicago in 1967 did not have the os-called  “Chiraq” reputation it has today.   Chicago in 1968 was a bit more problematic.

Your father and I were two guys whom you would never think would get into any trouble.  However, there was one time our “Good Conduct Medals” seemed to be in jeopardy.  It was one of those alternate weekends after a test;  we were hanging out with some of the other guys at the non-alcohol club on the base.   Later, we left the club for Fort Sheridan, the nearby Army base.   There club was for the over-21 crowd.  Bad idea.  We got back to the Naval base a bit late.  Not our fault. Someone else was driving.   But we had to face the Captain in a disciplinatry hearing called  “Captain’s Mast.”   Both your father and I were shaken-but-exonerated –as we should have been- and as far as I know, neither of us ever got in trouble again over the next six years.   Good Conduct Medal secure!!During the time we spent at Great Lakes,  historical events were taking place.   Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated.  That was followed by unrest in Detroit and Chicago.   Consequently,   the base gates were shut for a time as a security precaution.   And that brings me to articulate this recollection:  I never saw even a hint of bias in your father – even during this time of a social- empowerment.   Your father was secure enough to just see and treat me and everyone else as a fellow human beings.   And that is all anyone can ask for.  That was just great thing to me.   Particularly, at that time.   I like to believe today that  I know how he would react to current tragic events around the nation.

Your father seemed to breeze through the E.T. “A” School program.   But I know how much he studied.   And he had a talent for electronics, as well.  I fell back to repeat a level or two.   So we did not graduate at the same time.  Despite that, we both did graduate and advance  in rank before our next duty station, which turned out to be more training.   I believe he went to advanced microwave training at another school (Your mom might remember).   I was assigned advanced traning as well, upon graduating about a month later.

Up to this point we were in the Navy for almost two years without seeing the sea.   My next assignment:   more school,  Electronic Technician “C” school in Vallejo, California – north of San Francisco.  Just to keep things in historical perspective, Bobby Kennedy was assassinated in Los Angeles while was there.

The next time I saw Wilkinson was on the other side of the world.  In September of 1968, I was assigned to my first ship, the U.S.S. Annapolis (AGMR-1) out of Yokosuka, Japan.  The ship was undergoing an upgrade in dry-dock at the base, giving me an opportunity to see some of the country.  Your father was stationed relatively nearby, close to Yokohama – a port city near Tokyo.   I remember that he traveled down to Yokosuka visit me aboard ship, that October.   While it was good to see my old pal from E.T. “A” School, it was unfortunate that I could not leave the ship at the time because I had duty-watch status, that day.  Later that month, I traveled up to Yokohama to visit him.   Your dad was able to have his own place, off-base.  That was great.  Yokohama-living was better than bunking shipboard, in dry-dock, in Yokosuka to my mind.   During my stay in Japan, I would occasionally visit your father and his friends and hang out.   I remember leaving them one time after we checked out the Jane Fonda movie, “Barbarella.”   Your father asked me if I knew to get back to the train station.   I said, “Sure,”  thinking how hard could that be?   After we all seperated and I found myself walking and walking – I realizing I did not know where the heck I was.   I ended up catching in a cab to the train station, which turned out to be a lot further away than I had anticipated.  Great times.  I had just turned 21.   Before long, my ship left Yokosuka for waters off the cost of Vietnam and the TET Offensive.

I returned to the United States during the weekend of “Woodstock,” in the summer of 1969.   I was assigned to a Beach Jumper Unit in Little Creek, Virginia – part of the Naval Special Warfare Group.   In 1971, I heard from you father – he and Marilyn were getting married.   At the time, I was seeing a woman in Virginia Beach – it did not work out.  Wilkinson owed me a case of beer :).

January, 1972 I met your mom in person for the first time.   Both your dad and mom were visiting the Norfolk-area and some mutual friends, the Livenspargers (Bruce and his wife, Nancy).  Livensparger was stationed with me in Little Creek, but he had been stationed with your dad, in Japan.

I was discharged from the Navy in 1972 and went on the study journalism and television production at New York University.   It was my intention to direct television news shows.  Instead, I ended up on newsradio and never really having a chance to use my directorial skills.

Over the years, I would hear from your mom and dad – when the boys were born, etc.   My last meeting with your father in Boston where I was working at the local all-news station.  He was been passing through the area from Milwaukee to a wedding, in Maine, a relatively-short before you were born.

About a month later — Sunday, August 17, 1980 I received a  shocking telephone call from your mom who said, Todd had been in a fatal auto accident the day before.  It was all the more sad because I had intended to give him a phone call that Friday, but had put it off.   That was a tragic lesson I had never forgotten.

Your dad was a great guy; a genuine man and one of the best friends I had in the Navy.   I was so surprised and happy to hear from you Katierose – to learn that you and your brothers are grown and have families.    Who knows, maybe one of the kids will take up surfing some day.   🙂

Regards to the family,

-Lonnie Braithwaite-