"Furthermore, this paper suggests that the isthmus became not just the site of transit across the Americas but the stakes of empire as well. Focusing on Panama and other locations in the Americas demonstrates how Manifest Destiny was a project in and of the larger hemisphere; westward movement was inextricable from physical and discursive claims to non-contiguous sites throughout the hemisphere and was established through the presence, influence, and writings of U.S. emigrants, businesspeople, laborers, government agents, and others." -Dis/Claiming Panama: Women's Travel Writing and Antebellum U.S. Visions of America
I guess my family was of the "others". And things were getting weird all around the place. Not just the Bay of Pigs, the Rise of the Beatles and the mysterious death of Marilyn Monroe. Our colonial lifestyle in the Canal Zone was proving almost sybaritic for the adults on our block. We kids knew something was going on. There were definite signs of tension, shifting alliances and sidelong glances. This is juicy stuff in civilian life, and career death in the military. It all came to a head just after I finished kindergarten. We were on a plane bound for Rhode Island before you could say "Wha?"
New England. Again. Snow snow snow cold cold cold. Dad out to sea most of the time or back home instilling discipline. This was my first taste of the lash. A dowel rod, actually. Got home a bit too late for supper and had to pay the price. This was the first of many corporal punishments I received and I won't bore the reader with details. It was something that some parents did then, and it was wrong. I didn't become a better person for it. I learned to fear and loathe authority, become a better liar and punish those weaker than myself. Good stuff.
First grade: Two events stand out. One was my teacher telling me that I wasn't coloring properly. I needed to stay inside the lines. She took me over to the desk of the girl next to me and showed me the perfect coloring job little Suzi had done. "Can't you color more like Suzi?" I tried, but for some reason I kept using only black and red crayons.
This was also the year that JFK was shot. I had come to school late due to a (the first of 11,976 so far) dental appointment. Everyone in school was quiet. As I entered the classroom a voice from the overhead speaker was breaking the sad news that the "president", whatever that was, was dead. The teachers were crying and Mom had to come back to school to get me. We were out of school for about a week and the only thing on TV was the funeral. I kept wondering: "How could he be 'lying in state' if he's dead?" Lying had a whole different meaning to me then.
Rhode Island gave me many opportunities to be by myself. I would go down to Potowomut Pond and watch the pickerel hunt the shallow waters. I tried to run away once. Got about two miles from home before some kid caught me and took me back to Mom. Probably shouldn't have been stopping to tell each and every person I met what I was doing. Got beat up a few times. Seemed to start a pattern. What is it about bullies? Do we meeker types have some kind of flashing light that only these jerks can see? No matter what, though, Karma abounds. The same kid tried it again and I accidentally pushed him into a bees nest. Didn't see much of him after that.
Dad taught me to fish there, too. You bring poles, bait, a tackle box and beer. Then you sit in the freezing wind and curse the boat that just tangled your line. I felt very lucky. Most 8 year old have to steal beer if they want some.
We moved to Virginia in the middle of third grade. The sins of the past had caught up to Dad and he was passed over for promotion a third time. He got the hint, retired from active service and took a job in Washinton, DC with the Navy Department.
Shortly before we left New England we were lucky enough to be part of the Great Northeast Blackout of 1965. What fun! Cooking over barbeques in subzero weather and living by the fireplace until the heat came back on.
Next: Oh, Virginia save him from his hour of pain!
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