Here’s Pop as a young man. And some 20 years later . . .
It’s cliche to say a mother devoted her life to her children. It’s absolutely unheard of to say that a father did that. But, truly, Pop’s whole life was his wife and five children. I don’t recall them having any social life outside of family events. How could you, carting around five young children around half the world to a dozen different jobs?
Pop grew up dirt poor on an apple orchard in Cedar Gap, Missouri. He lived with his Mom and her mother, who spoke only German. He went to school at Seymour High School in Springfield, where he played tennis.
School was fun, but life on the home front was anything but. Poor as they were, Pop had to shoot squirrels to put food on the table, and fish in the local streams and lakes. He had a family to provide for, and he did just that – exceptionally well, throughout his life.
Pop got a tennis scholarship to study chemical engineering at Georgia Tech. Yes, he was a “Wrambling Wreck From Georgia Tech,” and proud up. He used to regale us kids with some of his old frat songs. One of the few books he kept was “Der Fuhrer,” about Adolf Hitler. In The Z, I tell the story of an old Nazi dagger we discovered in one of the houses where we lived in Spain. He refused to return it to the owners!
Like all good Americans, Pop volunteered for the Navy Reserves, but the authorities wanted him to apply his expertise in Grade 100 Aviation Fuel for Esso. He was to remain with the firm for his entire career. Here are the documents (this is a big PDF file, 9 megs) regarding his appointment as an Ensign and the subsequent complications (Esso refused to release him from work to join the Navy!)
By all accounts, Pop loved his work. His career was devoted to starting up new chemical refineries around the world, training local (native) engineers to operate them, and then moving on the the next job. He did everything that was once great about America – exporting good jobs and technology. Now the only thing America does is siphon wealth from other nations, destroying their vibrant culture and replacing it with a materialistic hedonism. Shame on you, America.
Pop took his first overseas assignment with Esso in Caracas, Venezuela. Talk about brave – bringing three young children ages 2,3,4, and 5 to a foreign country! Evidently Mom and Pop enjoyed the experience because there ensued a career of one foreign assignment after another. (Imagine that, a decent Driver’s License photo!)
Pop’s favorite people to work with were the Italians; or, more specifically, the folks in Catania, Sicily. Here’s a letter from one of his friends there at Esso Standard Italiana. Here are a couple of photos of Pop at work with his Italian engineer friends.
Whenever we were driving around Spain, Pop absolutely HAD to stop the car to snap a photo of the iconic Cinzano Bulls (which have since become something of a national symbol for Spain) on the hilltops with his little Minolta spy camera.
Well, he also took photos of the Bull’s equally famous competition.
Home base on our overseas adventures was 2424 Cottonwood Avenue in Baton Rouge. Here’s a photo of our swimming pool in the back yard. Pop was not a big swimmer, but he never failed to find a house with a swimming pool for Mom to swim in.
When Grandpa Howard (Pop’s father) died, he left Pop some money that he used to build our camp at Lake Rosemound. That’s me and Christopher (Robin), our German Shepherd. This letter from JFK to Grandpa Howard is mentioned in The Z along with some speculations about its meaning . . .
Our camp had a nice dock. I talk in The Z about watching the man building the dock in the muddy, mucky lake water. Pop shot a water moccasin snake in half once with his shotgun.
We went fishing often. I think Pop was most at home in the countryside. My three sisters absolutely HATED going to Lake Rosemound. It was heaven on Earth for me and Pop, though.
On our last trip back to the States between overseas assignments, Pop purchased a bronze Opel. We commuted to Baton Rouge for one semester while I was going to Robert E. Lee High School. I’d drop Pop off at the refinery, drive to school, and then pick him up at the end of the day. We listened to a New Orleans talk radio station, WWL, during the 90-minute commute.
This last photo shows Pop and one of my sisters, not sure which. At that age we were in Caracas, so this must be our house in Venezuela.
