by Ed Nelson
It was decided I would join Rob and his friends at lunch. I went back to my grind as he roared off for his. Jumping out of an airplane had to be more exciting than stroking the little white ball.
That thought made me introspective. Then I realized that I did get a thrill out of a well-placed shot or a long putt that looked like it had eyes.
Sam didn’t even acknowledge my presence as he worked on the greens. The man was in greens keeper heaven.
I did join Rob with his friends Steve and Dave for lunch. They had some good tales about some jumps that turned hairy. If they misjudged the speed of a fire they could get in an updraft with terrible results. You don’t want to land in the middle of a raging fire.
I asked about their training program. They would spend a week a year here to keep their certifications. It wasn’t something to look forward to. They loved the jumping part, someone else paid for everything.
It was the quarters or lack thereof. They had to sleep in whatever tent they brought. A lucky few had the little popup campers but even they grew old after a week.
There was a communal shower. Food was served in this, what they called a canteen, but I had seen better field kitchens with the Ohio National Guard.
That gave me some food for thought. I had put a lot of money into this facility so I could use the hangar and runway. Now I was having a personal golf practice range put in.
Yes, I let them use it, but I was imposing on the facility. I didn’t have time today, but I had to talk to the Chief Ranger of this base. I had a golf course these guys could cut, plow, and dig a firebreak out of it in short order. I better keep on their good side.
Chapter 18
At Warner Brothers, I spent the afternoon dodging seamstresses' pins and needles as they took my costumes in and out for the proper fit. One comment made about one of the outfits caught my attention.
This is the one that will get wet so give it some extra room. What did they mean to get wet? There were no scenes in my script that called for me to be in the water.
Oh no, not only no, hell no! If it was what I thought it was there was no way. I had enough water troughs to last my career.
I realized all I could do was be on guard the day that I was handed that costume. The evil people behind this would never come clean about their plan.
I did manage to get over to the stunt barn and wave my sword about like I knew what I was doing. It surprised me that I hadn’t lost that much skill in my long layoff.
I would try to work on the others when I could.
That evening at dinner I brought Mum and Dad in on my plan for the Forestry Service base. They both thought it was reasonable. It wouldn’t hurt to have the facilities I was going to propose in the area.
The next morning, I rode George directly to the headquarters to make an appointment with the chief ranger.
It turned out that he came out of his office to get a second cup of coffee when I was talking to the guy at the front desk.
He told me to grab a cup and join him in his office.
Once we sat down, he asked what I had in mind.
I explained that I had talked to some of the smokejumpers here on their annual certification course. They weren’t complaining but told me about the lack of quarters.
They were in a catch twenty-two. If there was housing like a hotel, they would be given a housing allowance. Since there wasn’t any such facility they were expected to camp out. This was a hangover from the old days when that was the only practical thing to do.
If there was a hotel nearby, they would get enough to pay for it.
I did a quick revision of my plan. I had intended to provide housing for free.
“So, if I built a hotel outside of the front gate, they would be given the money to pay for it?”
“That’s correct.”
“Then I propose that I build the hotel, or at least hire someone to do it.”
“It would be nice if it had a swimming pool.”
“It will and that brings up another subject. I feel like I’m pushing it with my golf range. How do you feel about that?”
“I have no problems with it, but if some politicians got involved, they could make a deal out of it.”
“I already allow your people to use the range. What if we expanded to other sports?”
“Such as?”
“A shooting range, baseball diamonds, and tennis courts for one. I’m open to ideas.”
“Instead of being considered a hardship posting, this would become a sought-after training center.”
“That’s another thought. There isn’t much in the way of classroom space here, I could have a conference center added to the hotel.”
“You just changed this from a hardship posting to one Directors would fight over. I love it. I was moved here for five years as an unspoken punishment. This would stick it in their eyes.”
I held my tongue, but I would have to find out why he was being punished.
We ended our chat, and I told him I would get back to him with firm plans.
I went back to my putt-putt golf. My drives were noticeably longer. I had added fifteen yards on the average since I had started.
I made a point of joining Rob and friends at lunch. I had some questions for them.
“Hey, what do you guys think of your head ranger?”
“He saved our lives.”
“How so?”
“It was a windy day at the El Centro fire. Some politicians had shown up to get a sound bite as we were supposed to take off. It wasn’t safe and our Boss said no jump today.”
“The politicians got bent out of shape and insisted the jump go forward. He told them where to go. That’s how he ended up at this hardship post. I would do anything for him.”
That answered my concern about the head ranger. I would be delighted to work with him.
Dad was home at lunch so I told him that if I had a hotel built, they would pay to use it. I had thought I was going to build it and let the jumper use it for free.
Dad thought that was wonderful. He asked what I knew about the hotel business. I knew they rented rooms and that was it. He pulled out his black book. Unlike mine, his was tattered from use.
He called a man he knew from Bellefontaine, a Don Hilliker. He and Don had served on the board of the Bellefontaine National Bank together. That is how Dad knew him.
I didn’t know it but since then Mr. Hilliker had gone into the hotel business. Not only building them but running a chain.
Once Dad explained what I had in mind Mr. Hilliker expressed interest. He liked the idea of a captive audience.
Dad handed the phone to me after telling Mr. Hilliker who he would be talking with. I asked him who my business manager Jim Williamson should call. He gave me a name and number and we were in business. He told me that the way they build them these days we would be renting rooms by September of this year.
We exchanged some pleasantries, he told me he had watched me win the Ohio State Youth Championship in Columbus. He wanted to know if I intended to repeat the US Open. I told him that I intended a grand slam Bobby Jones style.
I probably shouldn’t have bragged like that, but it was my intention.
At the studio, I ran into Mr. Monroe. He asked if I had a minute. I did.
“Rick, I want to tell you that Karen and I are getting back together. We will be having a small wedding, but we will be inviting you and your family.”
That didn’t sound small to me.
“What do you call small?”
“No more than two hundred people.”
“Intimate then.”
“Yes.”
He must have it bad to not even recognize my sarcasm.
He continued, “Another thing, are you and Nina getting serious?’
“No wedding or even engagement plans but there is no one else on my horizon or hers, at least that’s how I see it.”
“It is Rick this, and Rick that so I think you are safe there. I want you to know I w
ouldn’t stand in your way but do hope you guys will wait a few years.”
“Why, if I may ask.”
“You two are still in the first love stage, it would be better if you waited until you are best friends in the world forever.”
“I thought we were friends a long time ago.”
“Puppy love young man, puppy love.”
Puppy love reminded me of another romance that was doomed by their elders thinking they were too young. Maybe they were but they should have been the judge of that.
With that downer of a conversation, I went to makeup where they got me ready for some lighting tests. I just thought trying on clothes was boring.
At least the makeup artist would talk and make jokes. That helped for the first hour, even that soon grew old.
By some twist of fate, a light got knocked over on the set and we had to end the day early. It wasn’t me, honest.
I managed to round up a couple of guys to box with. The first guy made me think I still had it. The second guy just about knocked my block off. I thought Don Palmer was going to laugh himself silly.
When I got home there was a call from Jim Williamson. The Hilliker group wanted to do the whole hotel project by themselves. They had made a couple of phone calls and found that the Forest Service would front the loans to build the place.
That was fine with me. They were welcome to the whole show, that is after they bought the land at the front gate which I owned.
Dad thought it a hoot, Mum had little interest. Mary asked what the ROI would be on the hotel.
Chapter 19
The next morning it was back to the golf range. I was working at reading the grass on the greens. Not the slope but the way the actual grass blades faced at different times in the day. They tended to follow the sun.
When the blades faced me, they would slow the ball down. When they faced away it sped the ball up, we called this a slick green. It influenced how hard you stroked the ball.
It is peaceful in California in March, the weather is mild, it must be just 72 today, this early there is dew on the grass. This gives a nice feeling to the day but is hell on putting.
My putts were slowed down even as I stroked the ball hard enough to leave a rooster tail as the ball traveled. I just hoped I never had a tee time so early that I faced this in a tournament.
It was so frustrating that I went over to speak to Sam to see how he was doing with building the new greens.
He was down on his knees on the wet green. He looked up when I approached. His trousers were wet and muddy, but he had a grin on his old, weathered face.
“This mud makes it easier to pull the seams together.”
I saw what he was working on. He was right, where he had hand smoothed the seam you could hardly tell the grass had been separated.
“Looks good, how many miles do you have to do?”
“Not miles but quite a bit. I will keep the greens damp all the time so I can do this all day long.”
True love is a wonderful thing. I wished him the best of it and got back to one of my true loves, placing a little white ball where I wanted it.
I think he had the easier job.
I could hear dozers in the distance. The Forest Service had decided to expand the base. Since they owned the forest land all they had to do was take down the cyclone fence, remove the trees, put up new fencing and they were good to go.
I may have created a monster here. Originally it was to be an airstrip close to our house that would be convenient and provide a quick getaway if the family needed to leave Jackson House while under attack.
Today it seemed like paranoia, but we had just moved to Jackson House for safety after the KGB had kidnapped Mary. They paid dearly but we didn’t want to give them another opportunity. All was quiet on that front now, but it may not be in the future.
I had set in motion another obstacle to Soviet plans by providing aid to China who in turn was letting the Soviets know they weren’t welcome in Viet Nam.
They would find out my involvement and then who knows what would happen.
I shrugged my shoulders, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. What I could do though was practice hitting fried eggs out of the new sand traps Sam had put in for me.
Using the same technique, I used while practicing putting. I shoved into the sand five balls in a row with just a quarter of the top of the ball showing. I then proceeded to hit them out.
Hit them out I did and ended up with a mouth full of sand after each shot. By the time I had hit twenty-five balls I was a mess. This would never do! One had to look good on the tournament trail.
I tried opening and closing my feet, varying my speed all to no avail. You had to have the proper stance, open the clubface, and hit about five inches behind the ball.
When I did this the ball came out of the trap. I worked on the proper force knowing that it would vary under wet or dry conditions.
I finally figured out how not to get sand all over me. Stay out of the trap!
When I went home for lunch, I found that I had sand in my hair and worse yet in unmentionable places. Yes, stay out of the trap.
The movie studio was a pleasant day for me. They had little to do for me on the set. My costumes were ready and after trying them on I was given the rest of the day off.
I didn’t just run off, I spent time talking to some of the cast members to get to know them. Nothing deep just how is it going. It was early days. From previous movies, I knew we would be like a family before it was over.
John Wayne wasn’t around. I asked and found out he was back in Hong Kong working on the action movie he was producing. I wish I were in that one. Westerns were getting a little old for me.
Besides, there were early signs that the Western boom on TV was dying. There are only so many ways to show a theme. The industry was ready to move on.
It would be neat if it went in the direction of spy movies so I could be a James Bond type. That was my wish, what I had was another oater and I had to give it my best.
In a way, it was a letdown after, ‘Over the Ohio’. Even though my involvement in the movie was minimal it set a standard in dramatic possibilities and money earned. The fact that it was snubbed by the Oscar committee was a plus in my mind.
With the rest of the afternoon off, I went back to the stunt area. I was able to get a sword fight in. I felt that I had lost a step but still won handily. It wasn’t that I was so good, the other guy was bad. I think it was the only time I ever saw Jim Garner with a sword in his hand.
After that, a director’s assistant came up to me and asked me to take part in a fight scene in some sort of Western. I’m not even certain what the movie was about.
I found out that this was a rehearsal for the real scene and that I was standing in for John Wayne. We walked through it a couple of times then went at it for real.
The fight was on a big dirt pile which was half mud. Maureen O’Hara came in and helped me, Wayne’s character, by stabbing an opponent with a hatpin. She was to do the same to me, but I accidentally (by plan) elbowed her down a mudslide face first.
I loved it, she didn’t but was too much of a professional to refuse to do it. We were told we had to do the scene over, so we all had to shower and change using the portable showers that were in place for this scene. The third time through I missed her with my elbow, and she got me with her hatpin, and I was the one to slide face first in the mud.
From her look, I think her revenge was served hot. Her role had her acting as a termagant, so I wondered if we were doing a remake of, ‘Taming of the Shrew’.
I didn’t care enough to ask, I signed the papers to get paid scale, took a shower, dressed, and left. At home, I showered again and found I still had mud in unmentionable places and even some sand.
I related my tale at dinner. Of course, Mary had to ask what unmentionable places were. Mum whisper in her ear. Mary’s eyes got big, and she asked, “Won’t your bum get sore?”
For some reason, thi
s cracked the table up. I didn’t think it funny at all. The hand lotion I had used wasn’t doing the trick.
What a messy day.
I spent the evening reading quietly in my room. I was going to suffer in silence. Even that wasn’t to be. Denny knocked on my door and let himself in.
He had a business proposition for me. His work was a little slow right now and my publicity pictures were getting stale. His words, not mine.
He was right and more importantly I had a chance to help my brother. Yes, I would devil him to no end, but when asked for help I was there.
Since today was Friday it was easy to agree to do it tomorrow on Saturday. The only thing I had thought about doing was going to the beach.
Saturday morning, we went down to the first basement where he had taken over a corner for his studio and darkroom.
Since I had a complete wardrobe here at Jackson House, he and Harold had picked a selection of clothes or in this case, costumes for me to pose in.
Three of them came out exceptionally good in my opinion. One was a dark and brooding Death Wind. The next a debonair spy in the making. Lastly was me in my full Coldstream uniform with all my awards and medals. I even had a dress sword at my hip.
My luck Mum came in right as we were finishing up. Denny had quickly developed the pictures, so we all had a good look. When Mum saw me in the Coldstream uniform, she decided then and there that she needed a full-size oil painting of me dressed just like that. It would look great in the library.
Chapter 20
There was no way that I was going to spend hours posing for a painting. To my relief, Mum explained that an artist could use the photograph as the model, and paint from that.
Later in the day, I did get to head out to the beach. I was able to drive my T-Bird with the top down. It was on the cool side at 68 degrees, but the heater took care of that.
With the radio blaring out the latest songs like “Runaway”,” Pony Time”, and “Hit the Road Jack”; it was a great drive down 101.
Even with a wet suit, I wasn’t going out into the Pacific. It would be cold! I did stop by Katin’s to see if anything was going on. I got an update on Corky, he was doing great, he had a good chance of being the World Champion of Surfing this year.
