Southern Comfort
Robert W Carlomagno

 

Near the end of 1949 we were stationed at Fort Belvoir, Virginia when my dad received orders to report to Fort McPherson, Georgia. I couldn't have been happier to be leaving the area, since my experiences here had mostly been bad. That is until a few months before we were to be transferred. I had just made the varsity basketball team for Mount Vernon High School in Alexandria, Virginia. It took a lot of hard work to get there, but I only played in one game against another school, when our orders came through. I scored six points in that game, but I would never score another. I was extremely disappointed in having to leave the team, but still glad to leave the area.

We packed all our house wares. Each dish, cup, saucer and, bowl was wrapped in page of newspaper. It was a ritual we would go through each time we moved.� I didn't think that a piece of newspaper was enough of a cushion to keep them from breaking.

After all the boxes and furniture were loaded on the moving van an inspector with white gloves came to check the house for cleanliness. My mother was an excellent housekeeper, and was quite embarrassed when the inspector found a dirty sock behind one of the radiators. Everything else was spotless, so they didn't make her clean the whole house again.

We loaded the car and drove to Atlanta.� There was no base housing available right away, so we stayed with an Army couple that were friends of my dad. They had a large house, off base, about half a block from the Atlanta Federal Prison. Getting base housing was always a problem. I enrolled at Fulton High School. Fulton High was memorable for one class, and that was ROTC. Everybody had to join the ROTC. Although I wasn't going to go to Fulton for very long I still had to buy an ROTC uniform. Most classes were held outside teaching us how to drill. Marching in formation, and drills using a rifle, were old hat to me. I knew all the commands, and what to do after so many years around the military.

We had a "leader" who was a Lieutenant in the regular army. After drilling outside, and giving our student drill instructor a hard time, we assembled in a classroom. The Lieutenant would then give a talk to the class. When that was over, and the class dismissed, everyone would turn over their desks or throw them across the room. I could barely believe it the first time it happened. They absolutely trashed the classroom. This trashing went on, after every class. Another officer, who made it clear that if anyone caused a problem he would personally beat the crap out of them, finally replaced the Lieutenant. He was big enough to follow through on his threat, and things calmed down. But if the South was looking for another Robert E. Lee they weren't going to find him at Fulton.

After about a month we were informed that base housing was available. We drove to the base, but were unable to move into the house until the next day. That night we stayed at the BOQ (Bachelors Officers Quarters) along with another family. They had two kids, and we played monopoly most of the night. I guess the base didn't have many single officers.

The "house" turned out to be a single story converted barracks. There was no front or back yard to mow, which was fine with me. Fort Mac. as it was called, was a lot smaller than Fort Belvoir. As usual there was a grade school but no high school on the base. The kids living on base took a bus to East Point and went to Russell High. A city bus picked us up right at our back door. When I enrolled in Russell High, it was my 18th school in nine years. Russell had only one floor so it was easy to find my way around. The campus was large, and grassy with lots of trees. There was no required ROTC training, and I liked that. I didn't go out for the basketball team, or any other school sport. I figured if I made the team we would probably move again: I wasn't far from wrong.

I met some friends including David Lytle who would become my best friend. He would be the only best friend I would ever have. David was a little shorter than I with blond hair. He was very cocky and tough. We got along really well, and never had a serious fight. There was also Robert Banner who hung around us, and we called ourselves the 41 Club in honor of David's car.

David owned a 1941 Buick Club Coupe, and we sure had a good time in that car. He would let me drive it whenever I wanted. On double dates he would sit in the backseat with his girl, and I would drive after taking my date home. He never knew it, but I was

Nearsighted, and wouldn't wear my glasses. At night it was hard for me to see, so I followed the cars taillights in front of me. If some guy in front of us had driven off a cliff we would have gone over right behind him.

David drove that big Buick as if it were a fighter plane. He had great depth perception, and could make near misses a frightening experience. His favorite trick was to drive at someone on the wrong side of the road at night. It's called "chicken" except that the oncoming driver didn't know he was playing. David always won since the other car had no idea what he was doing and got off the road.

Gas was about 25c a gallon, but we still siphoned it because we didn't have much money, if any at all. The money problem led us to apply for a job as ushers at the Roxy Theater in downtown Atlanta.

The Roxy Theater was a plush, beautiful place. There was the orchestra, the loges, and the balconies.� From the box office on the sidewalk there was a long hallway with posters of coming attractions on the walls. The hallway ended at seven or eight glass doors leading into the main lobby.

At one of the glass doors stood the doorman, or ticket taker. A thick maroon carpet covered the entire theater floor. The seats were also maroon, and there were four aisles extending down the orchestra section. On the right of the lobby was a staircase leading left and right to the upper seating sections.

We both got jobs as ushers at the Roxy. We had to wear uniforms with a short waistcoat, stiff, fake white shirt fronts with a bow tie, and black pants with a red stripe down the outside of each leg. An usher was stationed at each aisle downstairs and upstairs. Each usher had a flashlight for showing customers to their seat. An Usher was required to stand at ease with his back to the screen and was not to turn to watch the movie. Have you ever heard a movie 15 times without ever seeing it? There were two other positions, and these were the doorman, or ticket taker, and the man on the spot. The man on the spot stood about 25 to 30 feet behind the doorman. He was on call to relieve any other position, or to run errands. He also stood at ease on the spot with his back to the screen. The doorman's job was to take tickets, tear them in half and give back to the customer half the ticket. He was not allowed to tear in half more than one ticket at a time.� Every ticket was treated individually, which could sometimes be a real problem when one person had all the tickets for a group.

The doorman always faced front. If he needed the man on the spot he would look in a small mirror to see if the spot man was there. No peeking. Then he held up two fingers to signal the spot man to come and talk to him.

If any of the employees had a need to walk somewhere within the theater he would do so in a military manner. That is, he would march straight ahead, and then make 45 or 90 degree turns until he got to his destination. These were rigid rules we had to follow.

We were paid the magnificent sum of $9.00 per week before taxes. That may seem to be a small sum by today's standards, but by the standards of those days it was a small sum.� For that amount we worked from six o'clock until around midnight five days a week. That left about four or five hours to sleep before getting up for school.

I caught up on my sleep in my first class. I got to know the social studies teacher who had been a B24 pilot in WWII. I was interested in airplanes and flying so we got along well. He had lost his right leg in a crash landing, and showed me pictures of the crash. My seat in his class was the last one in the first row at the rear of the room.

All the way across the room in the row nearest the window there was this beautiful girl with long blond curls. The light from the sun shining through her hair made it shimmer like golden waves. She was tall, and shapely, and, I made up my mind to meet her. But I put my head down on my desk and fell fast asleep.� By the time I shook off the cobwebs at the end of the class she was gone and I wouldn't see her until the next day when I would do the same thing again.

In June school came to an end.� The bomber pilot gave me a C in his class. Probably for not snoring. Everybody milled around trying to get as many signatures in their yearbook as possible. That's when I finally got to meet Juanita, the girl with golden curls. She asked me for my signature in her yearbook and when I borrowed her pen I wouldn't give it back. She followed me around for a while trying to retrieve her pen, so I traded it for her telephone number. That was the mating ritual of the 1950's idiot teenager.

I had no trouble getting my first date with Nita, but to see her on a regular basis wasn't feasible. I had to work late hours and I was playing baseball for a couple of teams.

I no longer played with those my age. I played on adult men's teams. I mostly pitched or played shortstop. Sometimes I played the outfield but I wasn't at my best catching fly balls. I needed practice with fly balls, so I would take my bat, mitt, and a couple of baseballs and go down to the parade ground where I could always find a soldier who wanted to show how far he could hit a ball. When I wore one out there was always another who would come along, and want to show off. I got to be very good at catching fly balls.

Nita lived in East Point not far from the school. I would catch the bus in front of the main gate and get off at the school. I would walk the few blocks to her house.� She not only looked good she also smelled good, and it wasn't perfume, it was just natural.� We would sit on� the porch swing for hours or take a bus downtown and see a movie. She never seemed to mind that I didn't have a car. It was absolutely the most relaxed, pleasant time I had ever had. The warm summer evenings with a slight breeze. A beautiful girl on my arm. Good friends. I could ask for no more.

Then North Korea invaded South Korea and soon it would be all gone.

 

 

Copyright © 2001 Robert W Carlomagno
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"