HOM: Knight's out

I finally broke the news to the folks about my assignment by phone. When I called, Mom answered. After we visited a bit I told her I wasn't going to volunteer for Vietnam duty. She was ecstatic till she asked me why I wasn't, when I told her I had orders there anyway the silence went on so long I thought she'd been disconnected. I guess subtle/tactful ain't my strong points. By the way, the guy from the Sub Tender opted to just go back to his old duty and forgo volunteering for Nam. The real bright spot through all my schools came via Ocean Beach Baptist Church and one of the families there. Phil Knight, a retired USN officer, and his wife Margaret opened up their home to us lost souls, offering a place to just come, relax, and visit, with home cooked meals and extra bedding for those that needed to crash for a night. There were places in SD that made military personnel very unwelcome - literally, no dogs, cats or sailors allowed. It made the Knights and folks like them greatly appreciated. They lived towards the top of Point Loma with a great view out over the ocean, had a ping pong table on the patio, kept their refrigerator stocked with pop and snacks and their hearts, minds and ears open. They knew first hand what life in the military was like and were happy to offer us a home away from home. Their two beautiful blonde daughters were an added, but off-limits, attraction. The family made a point of having something special on Friday nights - a Chinese dinner, pizza, a movie, whatever- for a bunch of us and some of the young folks from the church. The event came to be known as "Friday Knights". Brief highlights? Phil and Margaret sharing how he conned her into carrying the packages when they went shopping: "But Dear, I need my hands free to return salutes". When she spotted other officers carrying packages and responding to salutes with a nod, Phil started carrying his share. One of the guys there was anti-gun, and went on about how all guns should be registered to prevent crime. I didn't say much till he veered onto the subject of drunk driving. He said he wished he knew of a way it could be prevented, so I told him that the officials should make everyone register their cars. He got the point - registration doesn't prevent anything. Good folks, good times. A bright spot in what was a little too dreary at times. I sorta dated one of the girls from OB. Jean had a fiance in the fleet but he had been overseas a long time & she was lonely so we got to be friends. We walked & explored all over San Diego from the Zoo to Sea World, and had a blast. I sliced my finger on a can lid and hid it by clenching my fist. Jean insisted on seeing it, so I straightened out the crosscut digit. When the cut gaped open, I said "Smile for the lady!" I got both a bandage and a lecture out of that episode. We got back from a long walk one day and went out to the kitchen to visit with her mother and have milk & fresh cookies. When her Mom innocently asked "Did you two make out okay?" I spilled my milk and Jean choked on her cookie. Her Mom had the most puzzled look on her face... We borrowed her folks' car once and it quit on us down in OB. The starter wouldn't work. She called her Dad, and after a while he walked up with a big hammer. He didn't say a word, just opened the hood, located the starter and took a massive swing at it with the hammer. When the echoes died away, he said "Try that." Okay. VROOOM! Yep, that did it. He slammed the hood, took his hammer and walked off again without a word. A man of few words and effective actions. I had the opportunity to be more than just friends with Jean, but every time I looked at her after that I had a vision of her Dad and that big hammer and chickened out. He was a man of few words and VERY effective actions. TBC (Me) (Home)