An Ordinary Man: The Autobiography of Harold Cunningham by Harold Cunningham - HTML preview

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There was a small house located near Flag Lake with a boat dock nearby. The wardens had control of several row boats that you could check out and go fishing out into the lake.

I had a friend named John Stipe who loved to fish and at this time of my life I did also.

John asked me to go out to flag Lake one morning in the early spring to do some fishing.

We drove out to the lake and checked in with the wardens on duty. We signed out a boat and rowed out into the lake. We fished for a couple of hours and wasn‘t having any luck so John suggested that we take the boat and go on the other side of the dam.

We got the boat transferred over into the very slow running stream of water overflowing from the lake. There were several very large trees with limbs about ten to twelve inches in diameter hanging very low over the water. These limbs were approximately five or six feet above our heads We rowed down under these limbs and was fishing along when John all of a sudden told me, ―Harold, don‘t move too fast let‘s back this boat out of here.‖ I said, ―John what‘s the matter?‖ John said, ―Look above our head on those limbs.‖ I did. I never saw so many Cotton Mouthed Moccasins in my life.

They had come out because of the warm sunshine that day and were sunning themselves.

There must have been thousands of them lying on the limbs. There were so many they were laying on top of each other and we both knew the least little commotion could make them drop off those limbs right into our boat trying to get back in the water.

We got that boat eased back out where we were safe again and pulled it out and returned it to the wardens at the checkout station. That encounter with all those snakes made the hair stand up straight all over my body. No more fishing for John and me at Flag Lake.

• • •

We deployed to Alaska, October through December 1952. We were on our way flying up to Elmendorf Air Force Base at Anchorage, Alaska. Alaska was still a territory had not become a state yet. While we were flying up on a C-124 Cargo Troop Transport the pilot informed us that he had to take the inland route and that we would encounter some very rough weather because he had been ordered to fly at ten thousand feet. Some of those mountains are much higher.

I had this young man who was a member of my flight named Jimmy Gordon. We were flying along and all of a sudden it would feel like the bottom dropped out. Then the next thing we would hit an up draft. I don‘t know how deep these up and down drafts were, but someone said they were two or three hundred feet deep. All of a sudden Jimmy sitting next to me ran his hand down into his pocket and brought out his dog tags and put them around his neck. I asked him what was the matter. He said, ―I want everybody to know who I am when I die.‖ We had a real good pilot and he made a safe landing at Elmendorf.

• • •

I was stationed at Barksdale Field for four years, but only spent about eighteen months out of the four years at home. Then I received orders to be transferred to Ben Gruyere, French Morocco. Before I had to report to McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey I was allowed to take a thirty day leave. My wife Dorothy and I proceeded to take a trip around to see all of our relatives. We spent the last week with my mother and sister Ruth at 1322

Fannin Street Luling, Texas. My sister Mildred had already got married was the mother of a little girl, my mother‘s first grandchild. My mom had lived long enough to see the next generation.

Mom wanted some rich soil to plant some of her flowers in and I had always got her this rich soil mostly leaf mold out east of Luling on an old sandy road which I Don‘t remember the name or if it even had a name. This road was about halfway between Harwood and Luling. Dorothy and I took a couple of wash tubs and a shovel, drove out to where I had always got this leaf mold that mom wanted. I took the tubs out of the car and started to dig up some leaf mold, when I heard a voice tell me to just put the shovel down and turn around. I did what I was told to do and was confronted by a man with a 30/30

Winchester pointed in my direction. Dorothy was standing in the road next to the car.

I didn‘t know this man, but he told me he had taken the day off from work just to catch guys like me stealing his dirt. I assumed this was a county road. I started to try and reason with him as my wife was standing in the middle of the road by now with a 30/30 rifle pointed at me and her. I explained to him I was in the service and had not been out this way for several years and didn‘t think it was anyone‘s personal property.

He told me, ―Okay, but I want your driver‘s license to keep until you go into town and pay a fine for trespassing.‖ This was on a Saturday and I said, ―Okay, here‘s my driver‘s license.‖ That‘s when he told me, ―Lay it down over in the road and don‘t get too close to me because I‘ve heard all about you soldiers boys and how you know Jujitsu.‖

Anyway, I did what he wanted me to do then he let Dorothy and I go. We drove back home, me feeling low as a snakes belly, told my mom and sister what had happened. My sister Ruth told me to go see the Justice of the Peace. She said, ―His name is Judge White and he is a member of my church.‖ Well, I drove up town and found Judge White‘s office in a building upstairs, but I forgot the name of the building. Sure enough, Judge White was in his office talking to one of the Texas Highway Patrolmen, or Rangers as they were also known.

I told Judge White my problem and he told me that they had trouble with that man before.

That he would fence the road off at times. Anyway, Judge White told me he thought that where I was talking about was in Gonzales County, and he couldn‘t help me. The Ranger spoke up and said, ―I can go anywhere, so what I want you to do is lead me out there and I will take care of it.‖ So I led the officer out to where my tubs and shovel were still by the road.

The man that had threatened Dorothy and me with a 30/30 rifle was working a Bull Dozier down away from where we were. The officer drove down and in a little while came back with my license. The officer wanted me to stay and press charges on this man.

On Sunday, after this incident all of us, my mom, myself, Dorothy, and my sister Ruth made a visit to mom‘s brother, Uncle William who lived out on the highway east of Luling which took you on out to where all this took place. I told Uncle William about this man and Uncle William told me that he knew who I was talking about and that his name was Grady Grey. Uncle William said he had known the guy for a long time and that the man had been in prison for beating another man to death with a stick of cordwood. Since I was in the service and on my way overseas it would not have been feasible for me to be able to stay and press charges on this man even though I was mad enough. My feelings made me depressed about someone making me think mine and Dorothy‘s life had been invaded the same if someone had broke into your house putting you in a position where you can‘t‘ defend yourself. The next day on Monday, Dorothy and I left for Topeka, Kansas where she intended to stay while I was going to be gone for two years. We were not allowed to bring our dependents with us.

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Harold‘s oldest sister Ruth, age 39

• • •

When we started to leave I was saying goodbye to my mom and she grabbed me and kissed me right on the mouth which had always been a no-no ever since we came back from the T.B. Sanatorium. I was kind of stunned and didn‘t know what to do, but it was my mom and she looked so frail and she had to say goodbye so many times before to my brother and myself. Anyway, Dorothy and I proceeded to Topeka, Kansas on out to a little town called Ozawkie, where her mom was living having lost her dad about a year before.

I didn‘t have much time left so I caught a Greyhound bus out to New York City. I had always wanted to see New York as I had heard so much about the city from the men I had been stationed with. One of those guys was one of Sergeant Burrows ―eight balls‖

according to all the other flight sergeants. His name was George Bates. George was from New York City. Sergeant Burrows would turn all the ―eight balls‖ over to me since I seemed to be able to train or retrain them into good soldiers.

George and I spent a lot of time together while I was teaching him how to polish his shoes to make them shine. I started giving him some responsibilities such as going to the mess hall, picking up sandwiches, coffee, and whatever else we could get for the men

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who were posted on guard duty and couldn‘t get anything for eight hours. He had to make sure the guys had coffee and milk all the time.

One day, at guard mount, George came up to me and asked me, ―Sergeant Cunningham, I want to know if it is possible for me to get the evening off so I can visit with my mother and dad.‖ They had driven from New York to Barksdale to see him. I often wrote letters to the parents of the younger men to let them know how their offspring were doing. This also helped me to work on these guys from both ends.

George wanted me to come over to the day room and meet his parents. I said, ―Okay.‖

We went into the day room where his mom and dad were and George was going to introduce me. He said, ―Mom, Pop, I want you to meet the best damn man that ever shit between a pair of shoes!‖ I was really embarrassed, but they didn‘t seem to think anything was wrong with this statement. Anyway, over all the years even to this day, I don‘t think I have ever had a better compliment than what George gave me that afternoon.

Mother Amanda and Harold last

picture taken as he was leaving for North Africa I arrived in New York, got off the bus at what they said was the 42nd street station. All I knew is there were a lot of real tall buildings and when you looked up towards the sky there was an awful lot of trash floating around up there. The streets were dirty, men lying around trying to find whatever shelter they could. After having seen New York City I came away with a somewhat different picture in my mind than what I had expected from all the stories I had heard.—I‘ll take the Lone Star State anytime!

• • •

After looking around New York for one day, I took the bus out to McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey. That was our staging area for all the men who were shipping out to open a new base at Ben Gruyere French Morocco. This was a new Air Base that had been built out on the desert near Marrakesh. We were put on a troop transport ship to travel across the Atlantic to a base located at Sidi Salme where we had to stay for awhile until the contractors completed the building of the base at Ben Gruyere. Our records had not followed us; instead they went to the new base.

After about fourteen days after our unit had left the United States, the Red Cross caught up with me and gave me a telegram from my sister Ruth telling me that our mother had died and she needed me back home to help make arrangements. After the length of time it took for them to locate me it would have been impossible for me to get back in time to help with whatever arrangements were to be made.

One of the other sergeants that was being shipped to the same base saw me in a very distressed state of mind and offered to help. His name was Pat Blankenship. He went with me to the Red Cross office where the base commander was contacted. The commander gave me a thirty day emergency leave of absence.

Since our records were not with our unit I could not draw any money to use so we went to the Air Force Aid Society where they loaned me two hundred dollars. Then I got a ride on a military aircraft back to Westover Air Force Base Massachusetts. The Red Cross met me and another airman that was also on an emergency leave. The Red Cross furnished land transportation to New York where I caught a flight that would take me to Kansas City.

My wife Dorothy met me at Kansas City after I had made the trip with a delay in Chicago due to the grounding of all aircraft for two days. A lot of passengers slept on the benches and floor waiting for the weather to clear. Dorothy and I continued onto Luling, Texas by automobile.

My sister was alone and did not know what to do about her living conditions as she had never been anywhere except to stay at home and take care of our mother. My sister Ruth did go with our younger sister Mildred and her husband who was also an Air Force Sergeant stationed at Randolph Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas.

I don‘t remember any of the things that went on after that I just know my sister Ruth blossomed out and started making a place for herself not depending on anyone. She jumped in and found a job at Zales Jewelry store working there until she found how to get ahead in this world. She became the one in our family that made the world turn over for her. She never did want for anything after that. She was very successful and retired as one of the supervisors at the Unemployment Department for the state of Texas.

The day I received the telegram in North Africa was very devastating for me as I lost control and cried for a long time. The kiss that my mother had given me when I last saw her at our home in Luling had now become the full force of my being and I knew the meaning of it. My mother knew she would never see me again. There were things that I wished I had told her and above all I wished I could tell her how much I loved her for all the things she had done. Now it was too late.

I thought my mother wouldn‘t die. Other mothers might die, but not mine. I never knew how much I loved that lady until she was gone. My mother never had the opportunity to be around her two sons, my brother Olan and I. We both had to leave home at a very early age, but she left a permanent impression on both of us as to how to be honest and dependable.—You‘re only allowed to have one mother.

• • •

After my emergency leave was up I had to report to Westover Air force Base to catch an Air Force Transport plane back to Morocco. By this time, my unit had moved on to our assigned base at Ben Gruyere Air Force Base. We had to share the base with the French Military. At all the guard posts there would be one American and one French guard.

The American guards always got hot or cold drinks and sandwiches about half way of their eight hour shift. The French got a bottle of wine and a loaf of bread. There was always a lot of trading going on. The American would trade the French their sandwiches for the wine. Never did see anyone drunk. My tour of duty was eighteen months, not the twenty four months it started out to be. I had to stay nineteen months to make up for my emergency leave. After my duty was completed I received orders assigning me to the military police unit at Forbes Air Force Base. I was assigned the duties of a flight Sergeant for a short while and then the Provost Marshal a lieutenant Colonel Barr put me in charge of pass and registration. In this position I had to keep records and issue security badges, Air Force ID cards, and register all private owned vehicles on the base.

I held this position for quite awhile. Then one night I got pretty drunk and couldn‘t or didn‘t go to work the next day. The squadron commander, who was new, recommended that I be given a summary court marshal. I went up to the court which is only one officer, usually a major or lieutenant colonel. He found me guilty which I didn‘t deny and I was reduced one grade down to staff sergeant. I knew that I would never make my stripes back in the military police so I opted to go to Lowery Air force Base, Denver, Colorado for training in radar and automatic flight controls. After six months of school I graduated.

Orders were issued for me to report to the 444th Fighter Inceptor Squadron for duty. This organization was stationed at Charleston, South Carolina.

The aircraft this fighter squadron was assigned was the F-86 D. After awhile I became quite proficient on this radar set. Like all things the F- 86 D was phased out and assigned to the Air National Guard. All of the radar mechanics had to retrain into another much more sophisticated system. The radar I was retrained for was installed on the F-102

Fighter. I completed the training for this system in about six months and was transferred to Niagara Falls Air Force Base, Niagara Falls, New York. This transfer was in 1959 and Dorothy and I took a thirty day leave. Dorothy and I went to her home town which was Ozawkie, Kansas. This is where Dorothy‘s mother was still living.

Our nephew Bobby Kuntz was a really good friend of mine. He had been to Korea and was back looking around staying with his mom and dad where they lived not too far from Ozawkie on a farm. They both were working in Topeka. I went down to see Bobby and we decided to go fishing down on the Delaware River not far away. We took a wash tub, went down to the little store and beer joint, and bought a couple of cases of beer and ice.

Dorothy and I had just bought this new 1959 ford Fairlane. We loaded up our supplies and headed to a place on the river we could drive down close to. This was on a Friday night. Bobby and I put out our fishing lines, two trot lines, and our pole lines. We made camp and started drinking cold beer. By Sunday morning we were out of beer, so we got into the car and drove down town where the little beer joint and grocery store was. While we were in the beer joint Bobby met a guy he knew. I don‘t remember his name, but everyone called him Rabbit. This guy owned a big farm not far from where Bobby‘s folks lived.

Rabbit‘s folks had died and left him this farm. He just bummed around all year riding freight trains and lived like a hobo. Once a year he came back home and collected the rent from his renters. As we were leaving, Bobby asked Rabbit if he would like to join us for some fishing and beer drinking. Rabbit seemed to like that idea so he got in the back seat with a fresh beer. Bobby was hungry so we decided to stop by his folk‘s house and fix up breakfast.

When we went in the house I saw a twelve gauge shot gun in the corner. I told Bobby,

―Let‘s play a joke on Rabbit.‖ Rabbit was still in the car drinking beer with his feet propped up over the front seats listening to hillbilly music. I told Bobby that I would run out the back door hollering, ―Bobby, don‘t do it! Don‘t do it!‖ Then he would follow me out with the shot gun hollering at me, ―I‘m going to shoot your ass off!‖

I ran out and Bobby followed as I got just about to the car, Bobby let a round off. Old Rabbit came alive! He was out of the car and headed across the field. Never did see Rabbit again.

• • •

After I arrived at Niagara Falls Air Force Base, they needed someone to work on the automatic flight control only. I volunteered for this duty and there were only two of us doing this job. We had our own separate work space and both of us became quite proficient. The squadron was having a lot of trouble with the rudder amplifiers which provided the transformer that supplied the negative and positive signals to the left and right aileron amplifiers. The aircraft could not break the sound barrier if these three units were out of commission.

Every time one of them was out of operation we had to send it back to the factory to be repaired as it was not considered field repairable. This cost the Air Force about six thousand dollars each time it went out to be repaired. Plus the aircraft was red lined and could not be flown.

One day, I was messing around looking over the schematics and I thought up a solution to this problem and with no one‘s knowledge or permission to do so, I modified one of the rudder amplifiers on this one aircraft that seemed to be blowing this transformer quite often. After testing this for awhile and seeing it work, I went in with my drawings I had made and talked to the maintenance officer about what I had done. He told me he was going to ADC Air Defense Command and talk to them about it. I made up a schematic showing everything in colors and even printed my mane at the bottom of the schematic.

He came back the next day and told me to take any of the modifications out of the aircraft immediately, which I did. This modification only cost eighteen cents. Well, I never heard anything else about this modification. About this time the Air Force had a program that would pay a reward or bonus for any suggestion that would save money for the Air Force. The amount of the bonus was based on the amount the suggestion saved.

In late 1959, Niagara Falls Air Base was closed down, so all the aircraft were transferred to some other organization. Now came new orders for all the personnel to move to another assignment. I received my orders to report to Travis Air Force Base for transfer to Yokota Air Base, Japan. My wife Dorothy moved back to Ozawkie, Kansas with her mom. Eisenhower was still president and still would not allow dependants of enlisted men to follow their husband to an overseas assignment.

I reported into my new organization and was clearing in. One of the places I had to clear was the section I would be assigned to. When I entered the department there was some of the guys there that I had been stationed with at Niagara Falls. One of them told the sergeant that I was the man they were waiting for. Out on the flight line parking ramp was all the same F-102 Fighters I had been working on for the past two years. They did not have any personnel capable of performing the tests that had to be checked for the acceptance check each aircraft had to pass prior to the aircraft being given the O.K. for being flight worthy.

I was clearing in during the morning and pulling acceptance checks on the aircraft in the afternoon and evening. I was sure glad that I had a history of the flight controls for all these aircraft. It really helped me to perform these acceptance checks. I had packed all the notebooks I had for each one of these fighters. After all the aircraft were confirmed air worthy for all systems, our real job started. One day, Sergeant Knuoph who was the section boss or NCOIC called all the flight control men in for new instructions.

He told us we had a new modification to perform on each rudder amplifier. He handed me one of them, and I was dumb founded. Low and behold it was my modification even the exact same schematic! I told sergeant Knuoph that it was my modification. He didn‘t believe me so I told him, ―Come on, let‘s go down to my quarters and I‘ll show you.‖ So he did and I took out all the paperwork and drawings, and showed it to him. I still had the original drawing that I had made at Niagara Falls.

The thing that made me really angry was the fact that my officer in charge at Niagara Falls had high jacked my idea and took credit for this modification, most probably receiving a really nice bonus for it. This modification saved the Air Force lots of money as now the amplifier could be repaired in the field far about ten cents. That‘s all it would cost to replace a blown fuse. I don‘t know how many F-102 fighters were in the Air Force inventory. I know it had to be quite a number. After I had all the aircraft in my squadron flying really good, the commanding officer of my squadron asked me to go to Naha, Okinawa to instruct the flight control mechanics how to use the flight control test equipment. I was put on detached service for thirty days.

• • •

In 1960, President Kennedy became our Commander in Chief, so he changed the ruling about dependents coming over. I sent for Dorothy and I‘m sorry to say it, but I was beginning to show signs of becoming a real alcoholic. I didn‘t even know what that was all about.

Dorothy came on over and we rented a little house off base. I don‘t remember how much the rent was, but when we paid the rent we had to go over to the owner‘s house and sit down at a little table that was about one foot off the floor. There was a big hole under the table that our legs hug down in. The landlady always had to have hot tea and sometimes roasted chestnuts. I hated both of those things, but went ahead and drank and ate so she wouldn‘t lose face.

My drinking began to cause a lot of trouble with Dorothy and she was such a really good and wonderful lady. She tried to help me in every way she knew how, but I just couldn‘t stop. Finally, our tour of duty was completed in November of 1963. We flew home by way of Alaska. Before we left Japan, Dorothy told me she was going to leave me when we got to the states. I begged her not to, and promised that I would quit drinking and smoking if she wouldn‘t leave.

After I got to the states I didn‘t drink anymore or smoke either. I got assigned to the 329th Fighter Inceptor Squadron, George Air Force Base at Victorville, California. The 329th had F-106 aircraft which were almost the same as the F-102 except they were faster with more sophisticated radars and flight control systems. It was not hard to learn the new aircraft.

Well, everything went along real great. Dorothy and I bought a new home in Victorville and everything was going so great. I was really proud of me and Dorothy was too. After about seven months there was a squadron party at the park on the base. At first I would not attend, but around two P.M. I told Dorothy I was going to the party. After all I proved I didn‘t need to drink anymore.

I sat around for awhile and the guys kept trying to get me to have a beer. So after about an hour I decided to have one cup full. Well, this triggered something in me and the next thing I knew I had a half gallon coffee can drinking out of it because the cups were just too small. I didn‘t get home for two days. I was so ashamed of myself. But the cycle had started. Now I started drinking full time causing my wife lots of heart ache and worry.

When I attended the squadron party on the base I had not intended to even take one drink.

Somehow old John Barley Corn keeps sitting on your shoulder whispering, ―Oh, come on now, you been sober for quite awhile, you deserve a little fun and relaxation.‖ So I let my guard down.

Of course I was back on the old trail again. Staying drunk and drinking all the time, not going home, and sleeping in my car. I had bought this 1956 Ford Fairlane for twenty-five dollars and another old Mercury for ten dollars that the man really wanted to give me just to get it out of his way. I had rebuilt the 1956 Ford from top to bottom and rebuilt the Mercury, 390 engine and added four on the floor.

After having been off on this drunk for two or three days I was down in the dumps big time. I was remorseful and ashamed of myself and hated to go home and let Dorothy see what a poor piece of humanity I was. It was after dark when I got up enough courage to call Dorothy. She answered the phone and I so wanted her to have sympathy for me. I told her I was going to take my car and get it up to one hundred miles per hour and drive it on over the side of Cajon Pass going into San Bernardino and that I had called her to say goodbye. She was silent for about ten seconds and says, ―Goodbye.‖ – I went home to see her and beg for her forgiveness.

• • •

So you think you‘re an Atheist or an Agnostic. Go walking in New York City and one of those yellow cabs run you down you‘re lying in the street hurt and who do you ask for help first? The carpenter!

• • •

It was the latter part of 1965 and I was supposed to retire January 31, 1966. Anyway, for the last six months I would drink as long as I could get a dollar and wouldn‘t go to work.

I was AWOL quite a bit. There was this sergeant in charge of our section. His name was Fields. He watched out for me and covered up for me. I wouldn‘t go home hardly ever because I just could not face my wife.

I started out first around August 1965 drinking beer at the Wagon Wheel Bar until about one thirty A.M. Not having anywhere to go I would buy me a couple bottles of Thunderbird Wine, go over between the double set of railroad tracks as there was a trench about five or six feet deep between the double track and sleep and drink wine the rest of the night. After a while it started getting cold at night so I found a telephone booth out front of this little market. I would stand up in it all night drinking my wine. One night the police pulled up and wanted to know why I was hanging out in the phone booth. I told them I was making a phone call. They told me to get it made and get out of the booth.

So now that I couldn‘t stay in the phone booth I had to find another place. There was this little two dollar a night hotel not too far from the bar, so about two A.M. I would go upstairs, get in the restroom, lock the door, and sleep in the bath tub. It wasn‘t long until I heard all these guys complaining about the bathroom being locked all the time, so I had to find me a new place.

The next night I got me two bottles of wine and started walking up towards the graveyard in Victorville, which is located in a little valley shaped like a bowl. I walked around the back of the graveyard where there was nothing but sagebrush on the side of a hill. Since it was real sandy soil I started using my feet to kick the sand and to make a hole so I could get down below the cold wind.

After a few nights I had me a hole about six feet long by three feet deep. I started digging small holes in the sides and storing my wine in them. Next, I started bringing beanie wienies and crackers and storing them in the side also. I had made myself an apartment in this hole in the ground.

During the time I was spending som