A house is not a home*

 

Another repost from 2017, brought back quite a few memories, virtually all good.  So...Here we go. 

A few years ago, El Viejo Sargento de la Fuerza Aérea wrote a tome which posed a question "Home is?" and contained some excellent points and even better commentary.  Both of which are usually the case. That article prompted this one a few years ago, and it triggered some fond memories.  Since we're covering for Sarge and Family's vacation, I thought I'd republish it.

Two of  the points Sarge brought up stuck with me and caused me to think.  (I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again,  that's always dangerous!)

The first point was a Home is not a building.  The second was, to paraphrase, "you can't go home again".  Meaning returning to the site of a previous dwelling rarely provides a return to your memories.  

I view a house in Fighter Pilot terms (of course) as a Rendezvous Point where the crew debriefs the day's mission, refuels, performs maintenance, reloads and rests for the next days mission.  

The dwelling is important to the extent it facilitates those responsibilities, only.

That having been said, it also serves as a focal point for any memories one has of that point in their life.

Fortunately in this day and age, it's not difficult to revisit old homesteads.  It's even easier if you remember the address.  Type it into that creepy (and getting creepier) search engine and off you go, delivered within seconds to your old front door.

So, that's how I spent the day yesterday (Well… a few years ago!)

My parents bought this house soon after they got married, so this is the first place I ever lived.  We lived here, in Novato CA, for a couple of years while Dad was flying F-86s at Hamilton AFB.  I don't remember anything from that particular stay, but we did return when I was in 3rd grade and Dad was on a remote to Thule Greenland.  They had bought the house for $5K in 1954 and sold it in 1963 for about $20K thinking they were richer than Croesus.  I'm sure it's valued at way more than that now.  The two  memories I have of this house were of my favorite Aunt babysitting us while Mom and Dad went off for a few days to get "reacquainted" on an R&R from Thule.  That memory involves TV Dinners, learning the principle of a lever by forcefully pushing my sister's elbow down while she was bringing a spoon full of cream corn towards her mouth.  This taught me a few things, a bit of physics, cream corn makes a mess, and my Aunt knew some pretty salty language.  The other memory was of November 22, 1963.

After the first tour in Novato, Dad was transferred to Naha AFB on Okinawa, followed by assignments to Radar Stations in Montana and North Dakota.  The only recollections I have of these homes were cutting my knee falling off a bike (the scar on my knee is a reminder), and sledding off the roof of our quonset hut house and down the snowdrift beside it. Since the sled was actually my snowsuit, and Mom had thrown the dry ice that the meat had been shipped in out in the yard. I learned the cohesiveness of dry ice when it comes in contact with the backside of a snow suit. I also learned how cold your backside gets and how long it takes to get back into the house. I’ve never forgotten that lesson. Unfortunately (?), neither site is still in existence.  

After those tours, Dad went to Thule, and we went back to Novato to be closer to Mom's family.

Returning from Thule, Dad wanted to become an astronaut, so went to the University of Oklahoma to get a Civil Engineering Degree.  

They purchased this house which was way out in the country.  I was entering Kindergarten and my recollections of this home were of a large Bull on the other side of our back fence which my mother counselled me not to cross and sitting in our swimming pool (the plastic ones for kiddies you can still buy at Wally World) and having Mom bring me some Kool-Aid.  

The house isn't way out in the country any more.

Degree in hand, Dad was assigned to Ent AFB, Colorado Springs, still working Air Defense Warning stuff.  They bought a house on the western outskirts of the town, almost to Manitou Springs.  There were but maybe a dozen houses in the development at the time.  Being a little older now, I have bit more memories of the place.

I remember mowing that lawn and I remember Dad and I planting that tree.  Sometimes, you can go home again.  I also remember the view out the living room window (top window to the right of the front door.

Pikes Peak was usually covered in snow.  I blame Al Gore.

Following that assignment and with Vietnam heating up, the Air Force needed pilots again (still?) and Dad was released from Durance Vile and returned to flying.  His assignment was as a T-38 IP at Webb AFB Big Spring Texas.

I was starting 6th grade, I would graduate from High School on this move. The house below was one of only 2 duplexes and one single on Webb during WWII.  At that time, the single was the Wing Commander's, the two duplexes (4 abodes) were the other O-6's running the base.  When we got there they were 5 O-3’s (with large families) in them.  A whole housing area was built when the Vietnam War dictated the need for more Fighter Pilots. Unfortunately we were not assigned to them. But… the advantage was the youth center was about 50 yards behind our house. That was a very big attraction for the youths of the base. However, this was the late 60's, yes, they were old and a bit run down and we survived there for 4+ years.

This picture was taken in 2023 not much different in the ensuing 50 years

Again, you can't go home again.  Webb was closed down in the post Vietnam Drawdown and between that and the fuel crisis, Big Spring went into an economic depression.  The base is now home to several correctional institutions and base housing is used to provide quarters for prisoner's families.  Hence, the very run down picture above.

I've been told that while the economy has improved in the last few years, the town is still a difficult place to live.  That having been said, this house definitely fit my definition of a home.  The road the picture vehicle is traveling on (below) is the site of the most effective demonstration on Newton's Laws of Motion ever bestowed on man (or boy).

Additionally, one Christmas, I received a Daisy BB gun.  No red ant was safe after that!

My Buddy and My "fort" is just to the right of the dark phone pole in the cedars.  We spent a lot of time out there.  I wonder if my secret stash of Mr. Hefner's magazine are still out there?

Left Big Spring after HS graduation and went to Lubbock to get some edumacation, then UPT in Del Rio, LIFT at Holloman and F-4 RTU at Luke.  Nothing really homelike about any of them.  Lots of friends, but no family.

Same with Kunsan. Lots of Friends, but no family.

Arrived at Moody AFB, Valdosta by the swamp, GA, and the day I arrived I met the woman I eventually married.  

No, the fence was not there at the time.

 

 

 

 

 

For a lot of reasons, NONE of which I'm going to share, this was very much a Home to me.  It also was where I received my introduction to the evil that is Fire Ants.  Bastiges!

Following a very nice assignment with almost (but not quite) as much flying as I could stand, we received orders to Holloman as a LIFT IP.

At this point, Mrs Juvat and I went eyeball deep and purchased our first house.

The overhead view of the courtyard reveals the brick patio as well as the center fountain, Mrs Juvat and I installed ourselves.  The back patio provided an excellent and, at the time, unobstructed view of the mountains.  Now,  not so much.  Housing stretches to the base of the mountains.  

This assignment was followed by my tour in the Eagle.  Lots of memories there, but only one about our house.

Returned from there, to Leavenworth KS where I received (wait for it...) ARRRRMMMMMMEEEEE Training, Sir!  Lot's of memories there, mostly of getting "reaquainted" with my wife (who'd stayed at Kadena for a year) and getting to know my now 1 year old daughter.  My son and I were both glad to have them....Home!

Apparently, there hasn't been a pig roast there in 25 years. I find that odd, we did it regularly. Made us pretty popular with our neighbors though.

We followed that assignment with a tour in Hawaii.  Lots of memories of that home on Hickam AFB.  Sailing and the Hale Koa, feature prominently in most, although Waimea Canyon is a fond family memory.  May have to share that one, sometime.

But, all good things must end, and one must pay one's dues, as the next and last assignment was to the Northern Virginia Penitentiary for Wayward Fighter Pilots.  Not a lot of good memories related to the assignment, but we do have some good memories of family time together.  Having my son instruct me on a Scout Camping Trip on the proper setting up of a tent in the dark, in the rain, features prominently.

Add caption

This was the second home Mrs Juvat and I bought,  comparatively quiet, yet within a reasonable commute time (if you could take the HOV lane). It had a pretty steep hill down the back which was a pain to mow, but fun to sled down, as long as you remembered to bail out before reaching the fence.  Similarly, the road slopped down to the home, with was fine until it iced over.  Fortunately, we were on the side of the cul-de-sac, rather than in the house immediately to the left of this location.  Snow plow ended up in his living room one icy morning.

Which brings us to our final transfer, the one out of the Air Force and into civilian life.  Not having a job when we arrived in Texas, we decided on a rental at first.

Secluded and quiet, it was a nice place to decompress after leaving the Pentagon.  We affectionately refer to it as "Scorpion Manor".  Seems it had been vacant for quite a few months before our arrival.  The light area in the upper left of the photo is a rock pile.  We made our first acquaintance with the denizens of that rock pile the first Saturday we occupied the place.  Saw them almost daily thereafter.  

Yes, their sting stings! No, they won't kill you (unless you're allergic to bee stings).  However, after a while, Mrs Juvat said "enough".  So it is written, so it shall be.

Lots of good memories here in this Home, and hopefully, soon we'll be constructing a new house that we can also turn into a home.  (Site will be in the vicinity of the loop next to the barn on the far left side of the photo.)

 And, as of now, this is our current abode, the dark spot in the top left.  Lived on that property for nearly 26 years. Lived in this house for 5.  Looking to sell and move to College Station to be with Family and that will be that in the moving requirement of living.

 

Peace out y'all! 

 

* To prevent the copyright Nazis from griping, this post's title is also the title of a Dionne Warwick song as well as the movie for which it was written. Neither or which have any bearing on this post.