Some of the blog entries are being
used as reading material in my ESL classes (no,
I’m not selling the stuff, the students do like them!! ... just an added bonus…)
and, after reading the Puerto Rico series, some students were asking me if I
ever went back to PR after the Army years…
In going over the
blog from the beginning, there is a definite non-sequitur pattern, which is
present throughout the “body of work” (like
that? … no, not my words, just something
I remember hearing, but applicable…). Perhaps this may explain the gap; the
Army service became the focus for a few entries and then, other issues took up
time and space, blurring away the memories of that unfinished business.
What is there to
say? While in the army, during my early training program, my thoughts of PR were centered around the
negative issues that permeated my last 3-5 months there. In fact, as you
probably know from other posts, I didn’t return for Thanksgiving or Christmas. There
was no resentment or bitterness, it was simply a matter of not wanting to just
go back there yet.
Despite what
these entries may indicate, I am not the most communicative person. This
extends to the concept of writing letters… not my forte; and phone calls during
basic training were limited. What I am trying to get to is that there was
little, if any, communication with my family; my “floating relationship”
with Sheila was also placed in a limbo of sorts.
Then came January
of 1967 and we graduated from basic training, grand parades and all. We now had
our orders to our next stage of this extended journey; these orders determined the
future occupation during the stay in the Army, and also where the next destination
stop would be. In my case, being that I was to be trained as a driver of
anything on wheels, up to ten of them, I was to report to Fort Dix, NJ on a
future date, and this “future date” part, meant I “had me” 2 weeks of free
time. So, I decided it was time to go to Puerto Rico and do some visiting. Without
telling anyone about this. I had not decided yet if I would actually go a’visitin’
with my kinfolk …
From the cold of a
South Carolina winter to the warmth of a Caribbean Island. I don’t remember
where I stayed during this visit, but it was not at the family manse near Bayamón.
That much I do remember. Wherever it was, its location was somewhat near the
center of the metropolitan area, in Santurce. A lot of my time was spent
walking around and taking in the sights, sounds and smells. Remembering many
places and many people … while thinking that I did not truly know what the
future might hold. Or not hold.
They were long
walks but then, I was fresh from 15-20 mile daily hikes as part of my training
and these jaunts were a piece of cake… they took in a good part of Santurce, Condado
and the old watering holes around Ashford Avenue. Today, while looking at a
current map and remembering these moments, I saw that La Rada Apartments is
still there on the lagoon side of Ashford. Must be in need of repairs… the
building had already been up for several years when it became an apart-hotel
and my place of work in 1966…
I know!!! I’m killing time and avoiding issues… So…
yes, I did visit with my father and my stepmother. And Sheila.
Can I tell you I
have vivid memories of these visits? Of one yes. Of the other, not so much.
The second first.
I know time was spent with my father and with my stepmother. Why do I know? Because
I remember the chastising comments regarding my not staying with them. I sort of opted for the quiet
retreat and told them I had only come down for a “couple of days” and was
getting ready to go back, and basically saying good-bye to them at the end of
my visit.
In the meantime, through
a friend of a friend, it came to my attention that Sheila was working at SEARS,
Hato Rey. On Saturday morning I got up and dressed in my finest. At this
point of my life, this meant tropical dress gear, official issue. No stripes on
my sleeves but definitely a red battalion scarf and dress boots. It was quite a sight
to behold…
I made my way to
Sears, then up the escalator. Went to the second-floor rear, administrative and
credit section.
And there she was
... At the counter, taking care of a customer. I stood to the side quietly and
when she finished I moved forward enough to catch her attention. She looked up,
saw me, wrestled with her mind taking in what her eyes were sending up for processing
and her jaws dropped.
So far, so good…
but then, in a moment, that changed. Her jaws came up, her eyes averted me and
her face turned away, taking on an almost shamed expression. She went to the
back and stayed there.
I turned, went
back to the escalator, took it down to the first floor and went out the door to
the huge parking lot, feeling very lonely while in the midst of a throng of
eager buyers.
Never had a
chance to ask… Why?
Two days later I
made my way to New Jersey, for an early report time to Fort Dix. Of the two
relationships which might have tied me a bit more to the island, one was on
thin ice and the other one was summarily terminated.
I have been back
to Puerto Rico twice, since those years.
One time it was
for my brother’s wedding. The other time was to bid a final goodbye to my stepmother,
with whom I had had the chance to mend fences in a good way.
Be
Well … Be Back!!!
Final Notes:
· Pray
for those who are
fighting an illness which may take them away from their loved ones… Every
request is heard, and counts!!
