| Gidget Goes to Boot Camp |
| If you have read any of my tales of Paul, you still probably do not know much about him. I hope, someday, to get to know him better myself. He seems quite different from the charismatic, chatty little boy who used to be my best friend. However, this story deals with Paul's army boot camp in 2000 and my journey to Ft. Benning, Georgia to attend his graduation. |
 |
 |
| Paul was a Star Wars freak, even before The Phantom Menace. Actually, that's probably mostly my fault. It must have been contagious. Anyway, as he grew older, he grew longish hair (sometimes worn in a ponytail) and listened to music by groups like REM, Green Day, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam. I actually compared him to the late Kurt Kobain who was the leader of Nirvana. Then again, I also compared him to Shaggy from "Scooby Doo" and Maynard G. Krebbs from "Dobie Gillis." ~*~*~*~ Then one day, Paul astonished us. His little sister Cathie had been using her powers of persuasion to recruit her brother. He finally agreed. Paul joined the army. He left at the end of March, 2000, with very little notice. He came to tell me goodbye at work (Kentucky Downs), where his former co-workers expressed astonishment at his new hairstyle. He still had the beard, but I think he realized no one would believe his intentions unless he actually got rid of some of that Seattle grunge he had sported so long. |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| While he was gone to boot camp and Eve was still in school, I must confess it felt strange to be able to use my computer without wrestling someone for it, but I adjusted. Seriously, it did seem strange without him. Although he had evolved into a moody young man I sometimes felt I didn't know, he was my first-born child and my old best friend, and he was gone. To the amazement of many, he liked the army, and he did well. The unit was due to graduate in June. Originally, the whole household planned to be in attendance. When we found out that Wednesday was a Family Day and Thursday was the actual graduation, that changed. Two of us, Eve and I, would be leaving that Tuesday night. Wrong again! Eve worked late Tuesday night. We left Wednesday. I had to do all the driving. (Eve still had a driver's permit.) I was planning to make reservations for us, but I was assured guest housing would be available. Happy to have one less thing to worry about, I let that go. I had my maps from Yahoo and AAA (I love maps), and we were on the road. I listened to Bob August, the traffic report guy on Oldies 96.3 during Bobby Knight's show as we drove through the Nashville area. We avoided a traffic mess on Briley Parkway (my favorite loop around the city) thanks to Bobby and Bob. I lost my favorite radio station about the time we reached Monteagle Mountain, so Eve selected tapes from my collection. These included funny oldies like the Beatles' "Rocky Raccoon," the Coasters' "Along Came Jones," and Elvis' "Baby, Let's Play House." We also listened to the Everly Brothers, the Mamas and the Papas, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Glenn Miller, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, and Doris Day. We wished Eve had brought Schubert along, but he was in her own case, at home. We stopped to put oil in my car. It was leaking badly, worse than it had before. (I'd gotten the car in January, so we were still getting acquainted at this stage.) We saw signs inviting us to visit Ruby Falls at Lookout Mountain, and we drove through that funny little dip into Georgia and back into Tennessee (as if one is testing the water and finds it startlingly cold) before heading back into Georgia. We thought it wouldn't be much longer till we reached our destination. After driving through the outskirts of Atlanta, we were headed for Columbus. Columbus. Even now, my head fills with childhood memories of a beautiful place by that name, the capital of Ohio. I realize my perception was dulled by fatigue at that point, but the town Georgia named after that famous Italian fell short of my hopes and expectations. Being lost there for two hours did not improve its appeal. Since we had crossed the twilight zone, into Eastern Time, it was even later there than it was at home. The sidewalks seemed to be rolled up, and we couldn't find any signs directing us to the army base. A well-meaning young woman at a convenience store told me I had to get on the highway by taking a right at the traffic light and going on. It was over there (gesture of the hand). I couldn't miss it. I did. There are actually several traffic lights in Columbus, Georgia. I think I may have turned at one that she didn't mean. I tried getting more specific directions at a Winn Dixie (a grocery store). I decided I would not get to ask the harried check-out clerk anything before daybreak, at the rate the line was moving. Since Ft. Benning is not a city or town, most maps show directions to the nearest town. Most natives think any fool can find his way to the base. Actually, I could have gotten terrific directions from ArmyHQ.com, but I didn't know in time to help me on that trip. Since then, the site has left the web. We military families will miss it. (I even got this background from them.) I was provided with good information by a man at a gas station. He looked as though he might have been a veteran himself. The highway in question was the one we had followed from Atlanta. One leaves it to come into Columbus. If you stay on the highway, it leads straight onto the base. I'm sure that's what the young lady had tried to tell me, but her ability to communication had not made up for the effects of the trip on my comprehension skills. Ten hours of driving over 500 miles had left me feeling a little dense and impatient. Ft. Benning has a remarkable feature in that its information center is nowhere near the entrance. In tired desperation, I spoke with a female M.P. at the base hospital. She gave me directions to the main building. Had I only known, Paul was one of the young men trying to sleep with their duffels under a roofed area outside the headquarters building. The barracks were already being repainted. Nice way to spend the night before graduation! I regretted his having spent the day without any family around. The guest quarters we had hoped to find were none-existant, especially with so many soldiers graduating. We were directed to nearby motels. The lady at the EconoLodge just off base gave me the bad news: no vacancies. But she must see this sort of thing all the time. She had already been on the phone to try to find accommodations for homeless stragglers (like me). The most practical motel for our all-too-brief stay was six miles west, in Alabama. Even the sales tax was lower there. (It's 14% in Georgia, as opposed to 6% here in Kentucky.) Eve and I got a room at Colonial Manor. It was a pleasant nap I had there, maybe three hours. The EconoLodge lady had given me a map of the base (bless her heart!), so we dressed, signed out, and returned to Ft. Benning. It was around 8:00 A.M., but the sun was already brilliant. I had worn a long sleeveless dress that felt surprisingly comfortable. We sat on bleachers under a nice roof. Families gathered there, wearing everything from Sunday best to casual jeans. Our soldiers finally appeared, marching in formation. There were about 300 of them. I thought I'd never find Paul. The army band played. The commencement ceremony was short but sweet, compared to most graduations I have seen. As the class marched by, I strained, but I couldn't pick him out. They stopped at the end of the field. All the families had followed, wanting to see their loved ones again. The "at ease" command told us we were being allowed to talk to them. I looked for Paul, wondering if there had been a mistake and he wasn't there. "Mom!" Behind me there was a soldier in a short-sleeved light green shirt, with close-cropped blond hair and bushy blond brows above dark blue eyes. I almost didn't recognize him. I grabbed him in a tight hug and cried. Eve and I took pictures, and we all talked a few minutes. Paul introduced us to a few of his friends. One of them shared his last name, but came from West Virginia. Too soon, it was time to go. Eve and I had parked at the main building and walked over, so we were walking back the same way as the soldiers marching to their barracks. I laughed at their chant: |
 |
| This army life is not my style Got me lookin' like Gomer Pyle Back home I dated a beauty queen Now I carry an M-16 |
| We lost sight of them at the building. They went to get their belongings and go their separate ways to their next assignments. My daughter and I got into my blue Toyota, opened the sunroof, and headed north to Atlanta. In Atlanta, while we were stopped to eat, I called my cyberfriend Sher to say hello. Given our state of tiredness, Eve and I were too grumpy to be good company in person. In fact, I had to stop for a power-nap about the Tennessee/Georgia line. Eve patiently read part of a novel she'd brought along. Then the trip resumed. |
| We stopped somewhere after Monteagle to feed my hungry car. It was consuming vast quantities of oil. Then Eve dozed as we cruised towards Nashville. Close to the Music City, I tuned in to hear Bob August's warnings regarding traffic. I opted to take 31W part of the way home to avoid the problems on I-65. At home in Franklin, I collapsed on my bed. Paul went to Redstone, Alabama, next. After that, he headed to Ft. Hood, Texas. For more pictures (and some of our adventures), visit Paul's Fan Club. |
 |
| "Georgia" MIDI sequenced by John Roache, from a song by Hoagy Carmichael and Stuart Gorell. Paul's Fan Club The Many Faces of Paul Lorilei Lee's Page of Art. * |
 |