Note: All my posts on the ’60s are gathered under “The ’60s,” above. Being a blog, these posts are in reverse order. If you want to read them from the beginning, scroll down. Chapter 1 is at the bottom, chapter 2 above that, etc.

Progress on Tiny Room

I picked up these used French doors at Urban Ore in Berkeley. They have brass door hardware and wavy glass. Installed by Billy Cummings. The exterior is pretty close to being finished. The plan is to have the bed on wheels so I can roll it out onto the deck to sleep out under the stars on dry nights.

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Crab Season Opens November 15th

Our neighbor Todd Beeson getting ready for opening day. His truck is unique: a 1957 Chevy 2-ton Apache that he completely rebuilt. It’s got a chain-driven winch that operates off the boom. It looks like it might be a good crab (Dungeness) season this year.

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(Mostly) Ocean Objects by Kitchen Sink

The fly is made out of wire and translucent plastic for the wings. A local lady made the heart out of pewter. The snail is a Helminthoglypta, a native California snail– not to be confused with the pestiferous garden snail, which was imported from Europe; note the logarithmic spiral here.The seal is jade. The orange lump is a piece of beach glass.

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Running a USAF Newspaper in Germany, 1958-1960 — Part 1

I started out to write a book about the ’60s because none of the accounts I saw of the era seemed right. As I went along, I decided to document my background — which ended up taking up about half of the book. Ulp!

I’ve published the first 3 autobiographical chapters — click on “The ’60s,” above. However, I still have about 10,000 words of my story before getting up to 1958, in this order:

  • Summertime in the ’40s
  • High School in San Francisco, 1948-1952
  • Stanford, 1953-1957
  • Santa Cruz/Surfing 1954-1957
  • Three Months Through Europe on a Motorscooter, 1957

I’ve decided to skip ahead of these chapters for now, so we can get right into the ’60s. I’ll publish them sooner or later in some form — maybe in an eventual print edition of this book, or some kind of autobiography.

You’re in the Air Force Now

I was in the USAF ROTC at Stanford (to avoid the Korean war), and had signed up for a 3-year tour of duty upon graduation. I graduated from Stanford in 1957, and was scheduled to report to pilot training school in spring, 1958, at Marana Air Force base in Arizona.

However, after I’d graduated and when I returned from a motorscooter trip through Europe, I got a letter from the USAF saying they had changed the rules and I now would have to sign up for 5 years if I still wanted to be trained as a pilot — or take a 3-year non-flying tour.

No way was i going to commit to a 5-year military career. I wrote them and said that (in other words): you guys double-crossed me; for 4 years you said it’d be a 3-year commitment, now you’re changing it to 5. So, I want a non-flying tour and I’d like to be in information services (base newspaper, photography, press releases), and I’d like to be stationed in Europe.

Lo and behold, they gave me just what I asked for. (I figured some sergeant in the Pentagon saw my letter and decided, why not?).

When we got back from our motor scooter trip, I was told to report for active duty at Sembach Air Base, Germany, which was about 60 miles south of Frankfurt. My job was to run the base newspaper and manage the base photo lab.

My mom was upset when she saw this photo. She said I looked sad. She was right. Fish out of water, in more ways than one.

I reported for active duty in February, 1958 and lived in the Bachelor Officers’ Quarters for three months until Sarah came over. We first lived in the nearby small town of Enkenbach (and had Sunday afternoon coffee klatches that included rich creamy German cakes with our landlady, Frau Elner and family and neighbors) until we moved into an apartment on the base.

Trouble with the Military

The job and location were great, but I disliked the military. I hated wearing a uniform. I was a second lieutenant, but didn’t feel like an officer. I never did get the officer/enlisted man relationship right. I neither liked giving orders nor being ordered around. I didn’t feel superior because I was an officer. It was awkward.

My Own Newspaper

But I liked running the newspaper, and decided to have some fun. Soon after I took over the paper—The Sembach Jet Gazette—I converted it to a tabloid and started featuring photos that the base photographer shot in his spare time, with a full-page photo on page 1.

The photographer, Sgt. Jim Tyson, who was used to shooting photos of such exciting events as the Officers Wives’ Club meetings with a 4×5 Graflex camera, also had his own 35mm camera, and was happy when I told him to go out and shoot human-interest photos. He shot artistic black and white pictures and we converted a boring military publication into something quite different.

We did an April Fools’ issue that went over well. But then we did a parody of the Overseas Weekly, which was a National Enquirer-type semi-scandal sheet newspaper put out for the American military in Europe. We called our version The Overseen Locally, with the slogan “All the News That Fits, We Print.” We made fun of a lot of the base’s clubs and practices.

It didn’t go over with the brass. I was already in trouble with the base commander for refusing to pay for officers’ cocktail parties that I didn’t attend. An American journalist in Wiesbaden told me that he had heard rumors of a court-martial, the theory being that this was a subversive act, that the Russians could use it for propaganda. (Puhleeze!) It all blew over, but it didn’t endear me to the base commander.

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Male Ruby-Throated Hummingbird

Got caught in office kitchen yesterday. No one was around and it must have died from lack of food. They have to eat often due to such high metabolism and they go into a hibernation phase at night, but this guy apparently couldn’t get food or get to his hibernation perch.

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Beach Art



‘Between Worlds’ chronicles a unique collaboration between two renowned artists: Andrés Amador, who creates expansive works of beach art and preeminent long-exposure photographer Henthorne, who attempts to capture Amador’s ephemeral installations before they are reclaimed by the elements.

It’s a story that explores the challenges and rewards experienced by artists who sacrifice their singular vision in pursuit of creating something breathtaking and original.

A film by Brad Kremer, Christopher Frey, and Phillippa Frey

From Leo Hetzl

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Waioli Mission Hall, Hanalei

I shot this photo three years ago in Hanalei on the island of Kauai, Hawaii.

Waioli Mission Hall stands as a major monument of Hawaiian architectural history, the primary inspiration for the Hawaiian double-pitched hipped roof so widely popularized by C. W. Dickey in the 1920s. Built by the Reverend William P. Alexander, Dickey’s grandfather, the plaster walls of the frame structure repose beneath a sprawling roof and encircling lanai. The roof, originally thatched, was shingled in 1851. Similarly, the freestanding, ohia-framed belfry at the rear of the mission was of thatch construction, but most likely received a covering of shingles in the same year. The form of the twenty-five-foot-high belfry drew upon a long British and American colonial tradition. Common in its day, today it stands as the sole surviving example of its type in Hawaii.

This was the third church building on the site, with the earlier thatched edifices falling prey to fire and storms. It remained a center for worship until the completion of Waioli Huiia Church in 1912, when it became a community hall for the church, a function it still serves today. The building has been thrice restored: in 1921 by Hart Wood, in 1978 by Bob Fox, and again in 1993, following Hurricane Iniki, by Designare Architects.

www.sah-archipedia.org/…

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