Post: #1

The five years between the ages of eight and thirteen were odd. This span of time was also the time my mother was married to the only step-father I ever had. Once a year, we would drive up to Maine from Tennessee in the summer and pick up my two older stepbrothers. It took three days each way, but the ride was really fun because we had this old RV. My mom and stepfather would be up front while us kids played and horsed around in the back.

On these trips, we would stop at various locations and spend the night. This always stretched the trip out into a two week span. We would visit places like Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, Natural Bridge in Virginia and my favorite was Lily Bay in Maine. We would stop for a night or two and since it was the 80s, my brothers and I were free to run the forests, rivers, caves with no parental supervision. Epic adventures. It's amazing what a little safety training can do for a kid's independence.

My stepfather was retired from the Army. He had served in the Korean War and after that went in to some other gig in the Army. He never fully explained it to us or my mother. Sometimes he would get a little drunk and get a little loose with his lips. This is when a small snippet of a story would creep out occasionally. As a kid, I could care less, but now that I am an adult, I understand why my mother always got quiet for a little while afterwards. He was not a violent or loud man in any way. Stern and orderly, but I have no memories of him being an asshole.

So, now that a little back story is covered, I can proceed to the point of the title of this thread. About eight years ago, I was talking about these trips with my little brother (there were five of us total. Three of us from mom and two from my step-dad) and he brought up a huge 1/4 mile long water slide near Silver Dollar City in Missouri. This slide was epic, especially for a 10 year old kid. You sat in an inner tube with a handle and zipped down a small mountain/large hill and splashed into a big pool at the end. Then we went to Silver Dollar City and we also road horses that day. Man, talk about fun???!

The only thing that f*cks the whole story up is that I have zero memories of this trip. I asked my mom and my other brother about it. Yeah, they all remember the slide. Mom even recalled tricks pulled by various kids and how my baby brother nearly lost his shorts in the splash at the end. She could tell me what everyone did that day...but me. No one can remember anything I did specifically, yet they all claim I was there. Now here's the interesting part:

I have a memory of that time period. It only came to me after we had the discussion about the slide and the whole trip. I remember being in a large cedar chest. It was empty and spacious like the kind of chest people might keep at the end of their bed to store extra blankets, pillows or ten year old boys. It's only a quick memory. I remember the smell of cedar. I remember wondering why I was in a chest. I remember seeing a small margin of light between the lid and the latch. I remember the smell of rubbing alcohol.

So, in the next installment...I talk more about my stepfather's post-war career

Post: #2

As I get older, I am starting to wonder about what a freak show my stepfather may have been. Here's a little story he told that I believe, ultimately, may be pertinent to my memories of a cedar box...somehow (I'm not quite sure just yet HOW....piecing that together):

My stepfather had a buddy that lived in town named Sam. They had served in Korea together and would get together at each other's place a few times a month to shoot the shit. One weekend afternoon, they had been working in our vegetable garden and were having a few beers afterward at our picnic table in the back yard. My mom and Sam's wife were sitting there as well while all the kids were running around. By this time, I was 12 and becoming interested in my stepfather's rare war story. I mean, we played war all the time, but this guy had actually done it, right? A little hero worship or maybe living vicariously. Kids have no concept of death or the horrible things that happen in war, so in my mind it was all like GI Joe, but rad as hell and with real guns.

So, at some segue in the conversation, Sam says, "Hey, Ira, tell 'em 'bout Nevada." My step dad makes a whistling noise and says, "What for? You were there" - or something to that effect. Sam points out that he doesn't have a story because he just stood around that day while my step dad got to have "some fun". The story goes like this:

They were stationed at an Army base in Kentucky in 1970. Whatever group they were with didn't wear their uniforms the day they went to Nevada. So, he says that their commanding officer called them all into a briefing, then in civilian clothing, they boarded a transport aircraft and flew to Nevada. Once there, they loaded into a convoy of vehicles and were driven out to a small compound of buildings in the desert. While en route they were given their directives and shown a lay out of the buildings.

My stepfather was positioned at a back door of one building. His orders were, and I quote him "to kill anyone that comes out that door". Sam then pipes in and says that they were not told anything about what they were doing other than their individual directives. Also, they were not privy to the individual directives of their comrades in the other vehicles in the convoy. So, my step dad mentions they were at the site for maybe 30 minutes and during that time he "dropped four". Afterwards, they got back into the vehicles, went back to the airfield and flew back to Kentucky. Sam says with all frivolity to my mom (who is looking at my stepfather with a "WTF did I marry?" look creeping into her face), "Oh, yeah, we were always goin' places with no goddamned idea what we were goin' for."

I say this because I need to cover some back story before I get into the meat of my, now, 20 year piecing together of this weird man and why ultimately, I think he was a spook of some kind.

More later.

Post: #3

Post: #4

Jade  Wrote:

It's about to get weird. I am following the advice of some lovely posters yesterday that suggested I just start writing about something...

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Post: #7

So you were the man in a box?

Post: #8

MrRash  Wrote:

Jade  Wrote:

It's about to get weird. I am following the advice of some lovely posters yesterday that suggested I just start writing about something...

You are a good storyteller...

Post: #9

Quote:So you were the man in a box?

*hopes he's not 'Jack in the Box'*

Post: #10

Fascinating!

I will follow the continuing saga!

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TL;DR

Post: #13

LoP Guest  Wrote:

TL;DR

Everything worth reading doesn't come in 17 syllables or less.
Text generation, no doubt.
TG;ND.

Post: #14

LoP Guest  Wrote:

TL;DR

?

Post: #15

MrRash  Wrote:

LoP Guest  Wrote:

TL;DR

?

He says it's

too long; didn't read

But his sort attention span is his problem.

I did read and I find it most compelling.

Good Job Mr. R.