Posts by Jim Stockdale

Dad always had a junk car. It was his commute to and from the carrier, the hangar, the runway, the maintenance deck – from wherever his work as a naval aviator had left him that day. Hearing his most recent clattering wreck pull in, I’d jump away from the windowsill to welcome him home with…

We were getting accustomed to the San Francisco peninsula. After a couple of temporary crashes we found Brentwood Street neatly tucked away in Los Altos. Brownie had become ‘my dog’ since moving away from the Chesapeake. Jumping up on my rollaway bed or sleeping at my feet, his soulful brown eyes spoke volumes. He was…

Dad rented an old ramshackle hacienda in Los Altos Hills – 25 acres with live oaks, grape arbors, apricot trees, wild oats, and an old mare named Babe who we could ride bareback if we kept her shod and watered.  That is, we could ride Babe bareback – if Babe felt like it.  She had…

Saying good-bye to Los Altos Hills was hard.  We’d been far out in the country and – save some minor inconveniences – we loved it.  Mom bemoaned at one point that she and Babe were the only females “within a mile radius.” Still, we relished being so independent and our family was forged in this…

Scaling the roof of 547 was pretty simple and I was directed to do so when yard maintenance (always a favorite) required that I trim an overgrown bougainvillea. The shining, almost iridescent flowering of the shrub was always captivating – but I knew from clipping smaller sections that thorns covered the stalks and the larger…

We climbed onto the Greyhound with some trepidation.  It was dusk as my brother Sidney and I started our journey from downtown San Diego over to Yuma.  Mom’s last admonition was, “Don’t get off until you’re sure it’s Yuma.” Some passengers in the front seats smiled as we walked off our embarrassment.  “O.K.  Got it.” …

As both wondrous and disconcerting memories of the aerial gunnery range faded into the activity of our first Coronado Christmas, the pace of Dad’s duties picked up substantially.  I was still young enough to play Little League and joined a team as soon as we had moved.  Still cherishing my memory of Dad in the…