Alumni Sandstorm ~ 04/27/15
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4 Bombers sent stuff: 
David DOUGLAS ('62), Dennis HAMMER ('64)
Maren SMYTH ('63 & '64), David RIVERS ('65)
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BOMBER BIRTHDAY Today: Bill CHAPMAN ('53)
BOMBER BIRTHDAY Today: Jim TADLOCK ('58)
BOMBER BIRTHDAY Today: Steve UPSON ('65)

BOMBER CALENDAR: Richland Bombers Calendar
    Click the event you want to know more about.
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>>From: David DOUGLAS ('62)

Thank you to those who connected with my past. I wasn't sure
anyone would.

I've sometimes wondered how my parents taught me not to be
prejudiced. My mother told me a story about her childhood. Her
father at the time was a southern plantation manager, and the
family had a black maid and a black cook. One day mother was
late getting home from school. The rest of the family had
already eaten dinner. The cook fixed my mother a plate, and the
two of them sat down at the kitchen table to eat their dinners.
My grandmother came in, saw them, and knocked the cook's plate
onto the floor. "You don't eat until the family has finished
eating." That story made a big impression on me.

Another event just came to mind. Our next door neighbors on
Birch were selling their house. A black family made an offer.
The sellers contacted all the surrounding neighbors to see if
anyone objected. Only one neighbor did, the ones who lived
behind the house on Basswood. My mother was disgusted with that
neighbor. The neighbors sold their house to a white family. Mom
told me about this, although I can't remember how old I was at
the time – probably before eighth grade.

My dad also told me about his time in the Marines during WWII.
He was a gunnery sergeant at the Battle of Iwo Jima. He had an
R&R trip to Parker Ranch on the Big Island of Hawaii. There was
a Japanese interpreter in the group with my dad. The other
Marines were mean to him, but my dad defended him. When the war
was over the man settled in Hawaii. My dad kept in touch with
him over the years, and when my family came to visit my wife
and me in Hawaii one summer, I took him to see his friend. They
had a warm reunion.

That's probably how I inherited my attitude toward other races.
I had good parents. I never went through a rebellious period.
Except one time. I was corresponding with my future wife,
although we hadn't come to that decision yet. She sent me a
Christmas card to my house, which arrived after I'd gone back
to Whitman College. My mom forwarded the card to me, and then
called me. "I hope you're not getting too serious with this
girl." I knew my mom wasn't prejudiced against Japanese. She
taught a women's Sunday School class which included several
Japanese women, wives of soldiers who had been stationed in
Japan during the occupation. Mom was more concerned about other
people's prejudice against children of mixed races. Anyway, I
told my mom, "That's my decision to make," and hung up on her.
My parents didn't come to my wedding, perhaps due to that phone
call. Or perhaps it was too expensive. I prefer to put the best
spin possible on situations.

On one of our Mainland vacations with our children through the
southwest we stopped at a gift shop on one of the Native
American reservations in Arizona. The clerk asked me (although
my wife was standing beside me), "What tribe is your wife
from?" "She's Japanese," I replied. "Oh, I thought she might be
from a tribe in New Mexico." My wife thinks people sometimes
stare at us because they think she's Native American or
Hispanic. I don't notice people staring at us.

I only remember someone staring at us once. After we married we
lived in California for two years while I earned my Master of
Education degree. My wife taught kindergarten in a mostly black
school in Richmond. In her morning class she had one white
child, in the afternoon one Japanese child – all the others
were black. The Japanese child's father brought him to school
the first day. My wife's class met in a portable building away
from the main buildings, so the principal took him to "Mrs.
Douglas's" room. The father was so surprised, and delighted, 
to discover Mrs. Douglas was Japanese. The father, who spoke
broken English, told his son to say good afternoon to his
teacher, and the boy did. Those were the last words he ever
said in class. He played happily with the other children, and
they liked him, but he never spoke. We went to visit him at his
home, hoping that would help him feel more comfortable with
her, but he still didn't speak in class, although his father
said he'd come home every day and tell them, in Japanese, what
happened at school that day. We got permission from his father
and the mother of one of the black children to take them in to
San Francisco to see the zoo and aquarium one Saturday. As we
sat on a bench eating lunch a couple of women walked by and
stared at us. I stared back at them and said, "Isn't science
wonderful?"

Her children were standing in line one day getting ready to go
out to recess when one of the children complained, "Teacher, he
called me black," pointing to another black child. "Yes,
William. You are black. So is he."

-David DOUGLAS ('62) ~ Mesa, AZ   
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>>From: Dennis HAMMER ('64)

To: Frank WHITESIDE ('63)

Re: Forgotten Kids

When I read the name Princess JACKSON ('63-RIP) I had to stop
reading the Sandstorm and immediately look up in the 1963
Yearbook and her memorial page. Yes, that's her. I had not
thought of her since High School. I don't even remember how I
knew her. If I was in a class with her or what. It was not that
long ago she passed, I don't know how I missed that. I guess it
is understandable, years ago I looked through my yearbooks and
read all of the people who signed then. I had absolutely no
idea who half of those people are. Told you couple days ago I
had a photographic memory, just no film for it.

To: Bill SCOTT ('64)

Re: We've come a long way baby!

I very much enjoyed your post yesterday [4/26] and it brought
up something I have been thinking about for over twenty years.
I had thought for a couple years now of making this post and
wanted to research it more and take my time writing, but after
Bill's post I will just wing-it. My father was born 39 days
before the RMS Titanic began her maiden voyage and he lived to
85. About 15 years ago my mother started writing about her life
but think she only wrote down a couple of pages. I haven't yet
found it among her stuff, but I do remember her writing of my
Grandfather going into town to get the doctor because everyone
in the family except him had the flu. He was the only one who
didn't get sick. One of the children had died just six days
before his 7th birthday and three were not yet born so there
would have been six kids at the time. She did not realize until
I told her how deadly the influenza epidemic of 1918 was. They
all survived, the doctor's treatment was castor oil and I
remember thinking, "I hope they had at least a two-holer!" (Two
person outhouse for those unfamiliar with the term.) She would
have been 4 years old so I don't know if she remembered that or
she was told about it. She lived to age 96. My wife's
grandmother was born in Athena, OR in 1878 and lived to see
them land on the moon, dieing shortly after. She was saying she
probably would not get to see it, but it sounds like she willed
herself to hold on long enough. Her obituary and the story of
the Lunar landing it in the same edition of the  Columbia Basin
News, which was a morning paper at that time. Over 20 years ago
in talking about her my wife's twin said, "If we live that
long, we will not see that much change." About the same time
someone I worked with said his grandmother moved West in a
covered wagon and then flew back in a jet. He said the same
thing but also added, the only thing we have seen is space.

February 6th was my mother-in-law's 100th birthday. I was in
one room talking to someone my age and my daughter brought in
our digital Nikon SLR camera to show us a movie of something
happening in another room. I said to him, "You know, they are
saying if we live that long, we will not see as much change as
they have, but I don't know that is true. Who would have
thought when we were kids you could take a movie, then watch it
two minutes later. Who would have thought you could send a
letter to someone across the country and then maybe get a reply
within the hour."

I was born in Kansas, only because the closest hospital was
across the state line from my parents' Missouri farm. There was
no electricity and if you are living on a farm that also means
no indoor plumbing. They had a wringer washing machine which
had to be used outdoors because it was powered by a gasoline
motor. Story is that my dad and two uncles made a trip out West
near the end of WWII. My dad liked what he saw, came home and
said to my mother, "I'm moving out West, You coming?" So we
moved West in a 1937 Chevy coupe when I was about eight months
old. The first place I remember living was Athena, OR and turns
out to be across the street and couple houses down from a house
my wife's great grandparents had owned. This I learned in 1995
when we went there for a funeral. In 1958 we moved to an
orchard 3 miles out of Milton-Freewater, right next to a one
room schoolhouse. I was starting Jr. High that year, but had we
moved one year earlier I would have had the experience of
attending a one room schoolhouse.

I am not sure our parents and grandparents saw more change than
we will. Yes, automobiles, airplanes, electricity and indoor
plumbing are highly visible. When you think about it we have
seen a lot of change in our lifetimes. I will just use myself
for examples as some readers are older and me and others
younger. When I was a kid who would have thought one could own
your own computer and one you can carry around with you. Why
would you want one anyway? Who would have thought they could be
watching video of the earthquake in Nepal almost as it is
happening instead of weeks later. Television was out there, but
so expensive virtually no one had one so we would have watched
it in a movie theater before the movie started. When we got TVs
we had to actually get up and walk over to the set to change
the channel. Remember the cash registers they had when you
checked out of stores instead of scanning a bar code. In
medical we have MRI and CAT scans now, heart by-pass and organ
transplants. In high school everyone went around with the
latest thing, holding little transistor radios up to their
ears. We went from the new 33 1/3 LP records to CDs, to now
everyone seems to download their music. Who would have thought
we would be walking around with our telephones, and telephones
that can take pictures, surf the net, be a GPS unit be your
credit card and who knows what else. My car turns my lights on
and off, tells me if a tire is low, or I have left the signal
light on. I carry a little thingie in my pocket that locks and
unlocks it and opens the trunk. (Still I would rather be
driving my old 1963 Oldsmobile I bought in 1970 for $600.) Now
they have developed cars that don't even need a driver.

So much of the new technology has come and gone. Yesterday I
went to Ace Hardware to buy something and Goodwill is almost
next door so I thought I would go in and look around. They had
VHS camcorder there with case and everything. Don't know how
much they wanted for it but I can't imagine anyone buying it
unless they have an antique collection. This thing was huge,
you had to put it on your shoulder to use it and was a lot
bigger than the cameras I see the local TV stations news crew
using.

I bet if we put our minds to it we could write volumes about
how life has changed in our lifetime. I think it is just that
we see it progressing so that we don't take that much notice of
it, but if we were to get us a DeLorean time machine car and
travel back to 1954 like Marty McFly did, the change would be
sudden, and we would notice it.

My career path has not been that good. You are supposed to
start out with the low paying jobs and move up. I did just the
opposite. I started off as a mechanical and piping designer at
Hanford. Not getting rich but made a decent living. Then when
nuclear went down and design switched to CAD I could not get
work. I took a temporary janitor job which lasted 20 years.
Really disheartening when your paycheck is less than they used
to take out in taxes. I tried for at least ten years to get
back into design work before I got it into my thick scull that
no one would hire me for the reason that no one would hire me.
Working nights I usually was awake in the night on my days off
so a lot of times I listened to Art Bell. You write, "Dad once
told me, when he was very old, that he didn't understand the
modern world, and felt he had lived too long." I remember years
ago Art Bell saying he thought one of the reasons people die is
that they don't like the way the world is changing and it is
like they are saying, "That's it! I's outa here." For some
reason that made sense to me and I remembered it. Just a little
less than a month ago I made a trip to Portland and while there
spent a few hours with someone I was in the Navy with. We had
kept in touch but I had not seen him 25-30 years. I told him of
what Art Bell said, and I said I think am starting to
understand what he meant.

-Dennis HAMMER ('64)
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>>From: Maren SMYTH ('63 & '64)

Re: Don CRAWFORD ('64-RIP)

Don died 1/1/2012 and there was almost NO information for his
Bomber Memorial. Got an email from his son, "R. Don Crawford,
and he had seen the lack of information on his dad's Bomber
Memorial and offered to fill in the blanks. If anyone is
interested, check out Don's Bomber Memorial:

 http://alumnisandstorm.com/Obits/pics12/RIP64CrawfordDon12.htm

-Maren SMYTH ('63 & '64) ~ Gretna, LA   
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>>From: David RIVERS ('65)

Re: way old memories

Reading all of the posts regarding the few blacks in our town
growing up really made me recall some things... WHITESIDE ('63)
and HARRAH ('65) really hit home runs... which segues into
little league nicely... I believe (could be very wrong) the
first black kid I met was at Spalding, Jimmy ARD ('66), who
would go on to play for the Celtics... He was on my team.
Unfortunately, the coach was the father of a rather troubled
kid from the Class of '63 (RIP) and a racist to the core...
Jimmy's dad got pretty upset about the way Jimmy was treated,
but that is about all I recall... I would then meet Jerome
SKINNER ('65-RIP), who was always just one of the guys... Brian
JOHNSON ('65) sent me a bunch of pictures of Jerome in later
years... he passed away about three years ago and he and Beej
were still close... my most fond memory of Jerome was a day we
were all driving around in East Pasco and for some reason 
(that makes no sense in my memory) two of us needed to jump 
out... without thinking anything of it, Jerome and I jumped 
out and stood on the street corner... after a few minutes of
awkward looks it dawned on me why we were getting the looks...
bet we looked like the odd couple standing there... I then 
met John SHIPPY ('64) at Chief Jo... now the day I met him, 
he didn't say he was John Shippy... he said he was Joooohn
Shippy... he introduced my bunch and me to the term "Damn
Straight" only he pronounced it as he did his name... 
Daaaaaaaaaaaamn Straight... I immediately adopted it into my
vocabulary to my Mother's chagrin... I took a trip down memory
lane in my Chief Jo annuals a minute ago and saw that John (and
Ray STEIN ('64)) both signed their pictures... Ricky WARFORD
('65) also adopted the phrase but for some reason always said
it "darn straights" with an "s"... to this day it is one of my
favorite phrases... In checking out the year book, there were
some wonderful DAs in those pictures not the least of which
were Richard TWEDT's ('64) and John SHIPPY's... During my short
football career, I would meet another Carmichael black kid,
Fred MILTON ('66-RIP). I had the distasteful honor of blocking
Fred in football. Now early on, WARFORD, mangled his knee in
practice... I hated sports in the first place and played only
well enough to stay on first string, because all my pals
were... Thankfully, at the beginning of my Col-Hi experience,
my mom said I couldn't play any more till my grades improved...
Thank you, Mom! As if my grades would ever improve until I
started reading books and went to college... I lived in West
Pasco during my Senior year in a boarding house and became 
much more accustomed to seeing black faces... shortly after
grageashun, all the guys were getting work in Pasco and Fred
and I spent Monday through Wednesday looking for work... when I
took him home Wednesday, he told me he couldn't go out with me
any more... I was hurt and then he told me as long as we went
together I would never get a job... My worst memory is 
during my Junior year, a civil rights march was being held in
Kennewick. Now we were all aware of the infamous sign in that
town. What shocked me is that a number of my older friends said
they were going to the march and I should join them... that was
when they started piling shot guns and baseball bats into the
cars... I opted out... Sheltered is hardly the word for our
growing up years... I can only imagine Frank WHITESIDE's ('63)
shock when he moved to the south. The Marine Corps was an eye
opener for me and not a very pleasant one in many respects. The
relations between blacks and "non-blacks" were strained to say
the least... I remember in Staging Battalion, getting trained
for Vietnam, the blacks ran the heads at night and one was
required to carry a weapon if he expected to use the head at
night and go in a gang... One fun memory is that I had to march
next to a really cool and giant black guy... we were always way
at the back of formation where we were well hidden... he would
diddy-bob along singing "my girl" and other wonderful songs...
"Off hours" in Vietnam were about as segregated as a place
could get... it was like a Chief Jo sock hop with the boys on
one side of the gym and the girls on the other... the blacks
stayed with blacks and so on... so there are my memories... on
a lighter note, I tried to post the Wailer's "Rosalie" on face
book for my sweet Rosalie's ('63) b-day only to find it is no
longer available... "Louie Louie" and "Tall cool One" are still
available, but anything from the Wailers at the Castle album is
off limits... so I called her (I mean I would have anyway) and
then emailed it to her. I can only imagine that Jim "Pitts"
ARMSTRONG ('63) failed to renew his Fabulous Wailers Fan Club
subscription and we are all suffering for that omission!

-David RIVERS ('65)
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That's it for today. Please send more.
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