I Envy Those With Only A Few Close Friends

I envy those people who say  they only have one or two close friends. That way when one or both of them are gone, they won't have any more pain from those relationships. Or someone with one or two siblings. When they are gone, you never have the pain of loosing a brother or sister or best friend. 

Randy died on Tuesday. Randy is the first in my class to have passed, and it was sudden and a shock. From what I have been told, he had gone to the hospital two weeks ago for pain in one of his legs. When they got the tests back they found cancer. I guess further tests show that it had spread to his stomach and other lower organs. 

Two weeks later he was gone. He passed away in his sleep.

I was in shock when I first heard. I immediately started notifying all the Old Boys who knew him. None of us could believe it. He was 51. 

You see, I have many, many close friends. I say 'friend' so that you understand. But they are my family. We have a bond that transcends simple terms like 'best friend' or 'brother' as there are women in this group. They fought hard to make sure they also got the term "Old Boy." 

Randy was the jokester, the wise cracking, Jack Daniels drinking, Texan. I had just talked to him a month ago and nothing seemed amiss. 

So I envy those with only one or two special people. Those who say they can count on one hand they love and trust and are close friends with. Using two hands I don't even get out of the "A"s.

You may think I am over-reacting. Then you don't understand. You ask any military person how close the bonds they have with their fellow comrade-in-arms. With me, these relationships started 37 years ago. Some of our brethren have worn and are still wearing the uniform of United States Armed Forces. Some traded them to be law enforcement at all levels. And some went their own path. 

I am in contact with many through the years, BEFORE the Internet. Through phone calls, reunions, letters and social organizations (OK, I really need to explain that one. It's funny, trust me)

A few years after I graduated Kemper I joined a Star Trek fan club. I also realized that the U.S. Mail would forward things to people who moved. So I signed up a lot of my fellow Old Boys. I did this for a couple of reasons; it helped my with membership numbers. It made sure that I knew if one of them moved, I would get notification of their new address. And they would remember me and it was a way to 'poke' them every time they got something Star Trek. 

Ray was deployed during the first Desert Storm. When mail call came around it was announced to him, "Hey Sgt ________. You got something from STARFLEET. Hey, Captain Kirk, come get your mail."  You can imagine a group of combat personnel, in the desert, with not a lot of entertainment. I have a feeling that Ray got more than his share of comments.

And then there was Randy; who said because I had signed him up for STARFLEET he could never run for office in Texas as they would only want to know about him joining. He good natured threatened me many times over that (I think it was good natured...)

The last time I spoke to Randy was a month ago. He had called me three times, when we finally talked and got our usual pleasantries out of the way, the conversation went something like this: 

Randy: I was at the Austin library and found…have you heard of these re-mastered Star Trek dvds?

Me: Yes Randy I have…. (he cut me off)

R: I used to be able to tell what episode it was by the planet, but now…. I mean they look great and all but do you think that by changing them they have changed the whole story? I remember reading somewhere about Lucas changing the affects and that some fans weren't happy because by changing that they changed the feel…

It went on and on like that for twenty minutes straight (Randy could talk). 

Finally I had to say, “Randy, yes I have heard of them and seen a few clips (he had obviously seen them all). You do know who you are talking too? I signed you up for STARFLEET and you were mad because you said you could never get elected!”

I had photo-shopped Randy’s face onto a Star Trek uniform and sent it to him as a joke, but I guess it wasn't that much of a joke seeing how passionately and seriously he talked. My favorite picture is when the ‘jazz band ensemble’ at Kemper dressed up at Halloween and got our picture taken. Randy was in full Conan regale and poised with us. I have always said it reminds me of an album cover. It’s my wallpaper on my phone. I had to call those guys in the picture to let them know Randy was gone. 

One of my favorite Belushi’s bit was as him as Kirk. I can see Randy in Command gold now. 

So you see why I envy those with just a few. I don't look forward to receiving any more early morning phone calls. But I wouldn't trade my Kemper family for anything. I am so glad I have the time I have with them .

But still...I miss you Randy. I can still hear your voice and laugh. I'll raise a glass of Jack Daniels in your honor. 

"And when you stand on that last great day, before the eternal judge, may you hear from His lips the approving sentence: Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord." 

Memories of my father

Twenty-seven years ago my life changed. I went from a child with an idealistic life living in the Garden of Eden to one of having a bucket of ice water dumped on me. My father died. Now you would say that would make anyone sad, their life changes, etc. I would agree with you to a point. But it was around this time that I actually liked hanging out with my father. We had finally started to get on the same page.

I remember he took me to a Mizzou football game and introduced me to tailgating and where he had sat in the same seats at Faurot Field for 35 years. Then we went for dinner at Bobby Bufford and discussed the pros and cons of owning your own equipment verses having someone work your farm land. I can still remember the sun setting in the west and its golden rays play along I-70. I felt that my father actually listened to me and took what I had to say seriously, as a grown up. Perhaps that was why he passed when he did. He thought I was ready. Well yes and no.

My faith made me ready for my father leaving. I remember driving like a bat out of Hell from Columbia to the farm and making it in 45 minutes. When I got out of the car, Helen came through the back porch door and just said, "He's gone Jim Barton." I turned and walked across to the field and stared to the North, I don't remember too much except going to the hospital in Fayette and seeing my father laid out on a table. Then I sank down in a hallway outside that room. I really don't recall much at that time. But, because of my faith I knew, I just KNEW that my father was Heaven, out of pain and having a blast talking and meeting everyone. My father was more out going than I ever am; I get my personality from him. I wasn't really sad, except that I would miss him and miss the support I had from him. No matter what disagreements we ever had, I knew that my father had my back. No questions asked. He knew that I would never lie to him. Oh, we both stretched the truth; but as all Old Boys know; We. Never. Lie. To one of our own. So if anything happened, my father had my back. We played it straight; on the level and by the plumb. I am also so glad that my father saw me return all 3 of my degrees in my Blue Lodge.

His death also proved something that I knew; I have the best friends from Kemper. My family. That's what they are. Beyond blood. My father's funeral proved that. Not only was he loved and respected by many, but we all were family. Just like Chief's funeral. At dad's there were Old Boys who literally flew in just for the funeral and then had to immediately leave.How many? More than I can count on both hands and feet.

To this day, when Eric and I talk, we both remember this date, August 20.

I had to grow up; a battlefield promotion in some respects. Launched from a carrier, the sub dove, jumping out of an airplane, whatever metaphor that means that I was on my own. I had men and women who had my back, but for the most part it was going to be just me.

Today I am a better person than I was then. I mean I was a good guy, but just seemed to give lip service to things and still had growing up to do. I am so far from where I was then, you couldn't see it using the Hubble telescope. And like starlight, that star died a long time ago, but the light is still with us.

So that day will be one that I mark in my heart. I know Eric is marking it; as he loved my father. Eric will mark my father and his father passing on that big heart of his. I pray for them both, for Eric and myself.

George has said to me that I need to quit trying to live up to my father. That's actually impossible; there is no way I could ever do that. He was a better man than I can ever be. I can and do live by many of the things made him who he was. But I am not him. I am from him, a part of him and for that I will be eternally grateful. For those who knew him, they still speak very fondly of him and that is one of the best epitaph I know. I hope I am as well remembered when I am gone.

Thank you Dad. I know I never told you that enough. And because we were men, we never said 'I love you' after I got to Kemper as much. I know you knew I loved you and followed in your footsteps. I also remember lessons learned from you; those things that you never really taught me, that I saw about you and learned things that you didn't know you were teaching. Because when you tried to actually teach me things, it didn't go so well. Just like when I tried to teach you how to use the computer (Apple IIc).  We just never could actually teach the other, we had to learn from the other when teaching wasn't the goal.

I know you are looking down on me. I know I have made you proud and also shamed you on some things. But I also know that you love me no matter what and that if I can be a tenth of the man you were I will be someone. I know you and Chief are up there sitting in chairs, a bottle of Jack Daniels between you watching me as I bumble and fumble through this life. Occasionally rising above the milk with the cream.

I am under no illusion; my father was not perfect. And there are some things that I know I should have stood up for that would have changed my life. But then, I wasn't ready at that time. It took his passing for the cement to harden. But he was a perfect father for me.

I love and miss you Dad. Thank you for everything you did for me, tried to do for me and everything in between.

KMS '36-'38

In the kitchen at the farm

Glasgow Cemetery

Numquam non Paratus

So mote it be

Robin Williams

Robin Williams is dead. He committed suicide. I have seen many, many tributes about him; though some, very few actually, have wondered why so much media attention. I think if he had died in an accident or illness, there might be some diminished coverage. But because he committed suicide and was so funny, it makes people wonder. I like the meme of him, where a man goes to the doctor because he's depressed and told that the great clown is in town with the circus and to go and see him. The man then tells the doctor he is the great clown.

I pray for Robin's children the most. I pray for Robin. How terrible to think you were alone. But then most famous comedians use the pain to be funny and funnier; to hide it.

I regret never being able to meet him and tell him how his comedy was truly memorable. I know his politics and mine would never be the same, but he did a lot for the troops and the USO.

I remember seeing him doing a set at a base when they had Retreat and To the Colors played. How respectful he was. And then later he laughed it up. He was like Carson; I am sure he knew exactly what was going on. He just used it later to poke fun at himself. To me, any one who can laugh at himself is truly gifted. They don't take themselves too seriously.

I remember going to Colorado by myself on a vacation. I went to Estes Park, but made a pilgrimage to Golden-not to see the brewery but to try and find Mork and Mindy's house. This was before the Internet obviously. M and M were a big part of my growing up. As was Robin.

My roommate at Kemper also reminded me of him. Granted Ray was taller and bigger than Robin but he acted like Robin, and even looked a little like him.

Robin, I am sorry you were in pain. I am sorry for your family for their loss. I wish there was something-but then a lot of famous people leave at the peak. Almost 40 years ago you got your start on Happy Days. I wish you happy days and that you are making God laugh.

Second star to the right....nanu nanu.

Kemper Band of Brothers

Watched all the episodes of Band of Brothers again. The end always gets me as that is how I felt when I graduated from Kemper.

Looking at my Kemper family, it was true - how we lived our lives after Kemper was as varied as each man. We each had to rejoin the world as best we could. After 6 years, with the same people, at the same place, doing pretty much the same thing; when I left I make the reference that I was like a sailboat without a rudder. Not to mention, we all were shaped by our shared experiences. I cherish those memories, and not a day goes by that I don't think about someone or something relating to Kemper.

They say write what you are passionate about and that is why I write so much about Kemper.

We stood alone, together. We lucky few, we band of brothers.

Taps and Footloose

I was watching NCIS and they played taps for Gibbs' father. It took me back to hearing Bunch and Martin playing. I know I could pick out Bunch if he played them, I heard them so much. Also, he marched in front of me, so I am very familiar with his playing. Thinking of that takes me back, but also makes me a bit sad. At my funeral (far in the future) I won't hear him play for me; I don't deserve them as I never served. I just heard them played for 6 years-talk about comforting. Not to mention, playing with him and George and others was one of the finest times of my life.


Another thought; watched Footloose-the original, tonight. Talk about taking me back also. The movie and the music. There is just some music, you know? I just can't explain it accurately. It just takes me back and touches my soul and I just f e e l. You know?

Wildfire over regular radio

I was listening to "Wildfire" by Michael Martin Murphy and had a thought. I remember hearing this song a long time ago over the radio waves from either KAAY in Little Rock, Arkansas  or WLS from Chicago, Illinois. It was in my bedroom on the farm, at night and I was looking for a station to go to sleep with. I inherited this habit from father, as he would do the same thing. I finally got a station and this song was on. But what I remember was that other stations were pushing the signal around, so you would get some bleed over. And I remember hearing that when I heard this song.

Its those little things that make memories. It may not seem like much, or for that matter actually be something I want right now, but I am very glad for the memory I have with this song.

Writer's Digest, Soldier of Fortune magazine and me

My first magazine subscription was to Writer's Digest. I have/had always wanted to be a writer, don't ask me why. I think its because I tell things in stories. My mother said that they even put an old typewriter into my crib; I don't know why, but that's what she said.

After going to Kemper for a year I got a Soldier's of Fortune subscription. At Kemper, magazines, books went  through the companies like wild fire. If you were on O.D. duty there would be at least one or two magazines and probably some books in the desk to read as you pass the long nights on watch. I remember one particular book that I loved was called the City of the Chasch by Jack Vance. It wasn't until many, many years later I found there were three other books in that series. So comics such as The Warlord, and S.O.F. magazines were extremely popular

The Calvary store catalog was another that was worth it's weight there. Not only for our MS III & IV cadets but for the rest of us too. I know that's where I got better equipment than what I was issued; from boots to my crook neck flashlight, to a canteen cup. I wore out the boots and the flashlight but still have that canteen cup on my canteen.

At one time I had the complete collection of SOF as I bought all the back issues. But sadly, when my basement flooded, they were all lost. I have seen them in electronic format, but its not the same. I know that some of the SOFs I had were also handled by very old and dear friends from Kemper; some no longer with us.

As I near my 51st birthday I think back to these times. The memories keep me going and I just wish I could share them with someone special. But would that person fully understand or just smile and nod be polite and as understanding as they could from their point of view?

What was so great about having to sleep in full sweats with gloves and your hood up at night?  Or having, at times, very sub par food? Or cold showers or many other things? Why was it great? At the time, not a dam thing! But now, I know I can make it. I was talking with an Old Boy before my time. He said that after what he went through at Kemper, if he had gotten captured by the Vietnamese, he knew he could take what they dished out. The worst they could do was kill him. Kemper was an experience, even more so than basic or any other training. After Kemper, if you went into the military, you already knew the mind games. You already knew to keep your mouth shut and ears open. And that you were being built into a unit, so you helped others. The D.I.s saw that and could tell. It actually made their jobs a little easier as we had the experience. But it went beyond that.

There were cadets who had a parent on the east coast and another on the west coast so they stuck him in the middle. Birthdays, some holidays, these cadets had no one, outside your Kemper family. You could be hard on them one day and helping celebrate their birthday the next; possibly by either throwing them in the lake or the showers.

I spoke to a lady whose son had wanted to go to Kemper at one time. But he decided not to. I told her, its not for everyone, She knew, being former Army. But I don't think anyone knows, even former military, unless you went to a military school, and I am not talking about one of the service academies, but one that has stood the test of time, like Kemper did. VMI, NMI, the Citadel, Wentworth and others. These are the ones that help shape the cadets. You figure by the time someone is of legal age will be fairly molded; then they join the military. Basic is designed to break you down and rebuild you in that branches way. By going to a military school before that, that's already done.

Though I never wore anything but ROTC, I know that when I am part of an organization, I know what a unit is and to support it. If it is called for, I can step up to lead it. I also know many of my classmates and alumni also know that. So, by the time they hit military basic, that particular job is already done. Usually done by cadets under the age of 18. And they turn out to be assets and great leaders.

And no, just because someone went to a military school does not automatically  make them a great leader or a good person. I have also seen that some are beyond that. As I have always said, there are good and bad in all groups.

I am just extremely lucky with the men and women who I call my Kemper family.