Tales of Yore
by
Grandpa Hubbard
The World Series 1938
I was introduced to Baseball and the World Series suddenly and in an unusual manner. I answered the phone to a call from a radio station in Phoenix, Arizona and a voice asking to speak to my father. Since he was in California I asked if there was any message. The caller, by now satisfied to talk to me asked, "Would you like to broadcast the World Series this year?" I knew what the World Series was, but that was about all. After a few minutes of talk I found that the caller was at a radio station that could not accept the series this year because they were on the wrong broadcast network. The cost to us would be about $500.00 to cover the telephone line service. With this information I said I would have an answer within the hour. I should explain that I was in the studio of Radio Station KCRJ, Jerome, Arizona and was one of the only two employees running the station. The other employee, a licensed radio operator, left all the office and broadcast duties to me and in the absence of my father I was in charge. I should mention that at the time I was 18 years old, and with only a year of fatherly training found myself in this position. In 1938 the gross income of the station was not much more than $500.00 per month. With what little knowledge I had of World Series baseball and network broadcasting I went uptown to see what our local advertisers thought of this offer. I only had to visit the local drugstore owner to realize that he was sure there was no problem of funding and I should go ahead. With this assurance I called the Phoenix station and said we were glad to take the series. My instructions were simple. Just show the phone company lineman where I wanted the hookup to be made in the studio Several days later this was done. If in 1938 we had the internet I could have quickly learned enough about baseball and the World Series to get me through this wonderful new experience. Just thinking about this little story from my past I had forgotten who the teams were and where they played. So, fast forward to 2001 and enter Baseball, World Series, 1938 into the computer and the first item listed had every game from early 1900 to present. For you baseball fans, and I'm talking real fans, the series was between the Cubs and the Yankees. Games were played in Wrigley Field and Yankee Stadium, and the final game was game four. It was 8-3 in game four and a sweep for the Yankees. Returning now to a nice fall day in 1938. I had placed a nice Scoreboard in front of the radio station that could be seen by cars passing by. I had the scoreboard ruled for innings and teams neatly printed. Large Letters CUBS and YANKEES. I had my desk ready with spot commercials for most of our local businesses and had only one switch to turn to let the network take over and broadcast the series on our station. I was ready to turn the switch at a moments notice and every so often I would listen to see what was on the network line. Once I was sure the game was starting so I turned the switch only to hear a worker at Wrigley Field telling people to get off his cables and in no uncertain profane terms. Off went my switch and back to music. The time finally came and all went well. This was the most professional broadcasting that had ever come out of our station. Well, the game ended and I posted the final score on our scoreboard in front of the building. The next day I was in front of the station cleaning up the scoreboard. I was in the process of printing CUBS and YANKEES on the board when a young boy, of perhaps 12 or 13, stopped to watch me. As I finished he said "hey mister, that aint right, they played yesterday." Well, as I said at the beginning of this piece I didn't know much about the World Series or baseball. I went into the studio, got the newspaper, checked the teams and sure enough the CUBS and YANKEES were playing today. I would appreciate it if you didn't repeat this..
The Jacket
I am sorry I am late writing this article about the Jacket but I had to defrag the memory section of my brain. I hope all of you reading this understand how important this is. For those of you who are new just a few words of explanation. Your memory section of the brain is just like your hard drive, except that it has a gazillion megabytes of storage. Now with that much memory over the years you will find it harder and harder to retrieve information quickly, if at all. To defrag is simple. At bedtime just stretch out, relax, shut your eyes and say "defrag" three times and then go to sleep. The next morning you will have a completely defraged memory section of your brain. Well, now that I have found all the files that were spread over 50 years I think I can tell you about The Jacket. It was in late 1945 when I first encountered The Jacket. The war was winding down and servicemen all over the world were counting their points to see when they would be going home. The older you were, the longer you had been overseas and the number of dependents gave you points. Waiting was not easy. My best navy friend, Dave, decided he would rather be doing something than just wait. So, he did the unthinkable, and volunteered for a duty he knew not what or where. He was told to pack a limited weight bag and be ready to fly the next day. He, and the other volunteers, would have the rest of their possessions shipped to their home address. Several days after Dave had shipped out our Supply Officer had several of the storekeepers prepare the volunteer's seabags for shipment home. An officer instructed us to empty each seabag on the floor, remove any guns, ammunition or U.S. Navy property and then repack the bag. In all of the bags only one handgun and a little ammunition was removed. Someone tossed Dave's bag to me, knowing I was his friend, and I dumped it on the floor like all the others. The young officer overseeing our work pointed to a jacket and motioned for me to throw it aside. This was my first encounter with The Jacket. It was just a utility jacket, dull green, size 38, with heavy lining, with U S N on the back. When our job was finished everything was removed from the building except The Jacket which I acquired, in typical navy fashion, and put it in my seabag. Several months later I received my orders to return stateside and was provided transportation on the USS Oak Hill, a Landing Ship Dock. Seven days later I was on Treasure Island, awaiting assignment to a discharge center. This was just a temporary stop for me as I was only a few miles from home. Here we were given instructions about travel and what to expect in the next few days. Before leaving the area the enlisted man in charge gave us a few words about what we could bring home. He gave us the same story about guns, ammunition and US Navy property and what would happen to us if we were found with such items. He said he would leave us alone and if we had anything we wanted to remove from our seabags....this was the time...and place it in that dumpster with no questions asked. This would be your last chance. As he was leaving the area, and passing by me, I asked about The Jacket. His response was that they had a whole warehouse full of them and I should leave it in my seabag. Two days later I was back home in Oakland, California, and still in possession of The Jacket. Many things happened in the next 18 years, and now I had a son who was about to enter the U.S.Navy to serve his two year hitch. Soon he was in the service and assigned to the USS Twining DD540. It was on a dependents cruise, where family members were taken on a short trip from San Francisco out past the three mile limit and then return through the Golden Gate and dock at Angel Island for a picnic, that my son gave me a tour of the ship. When he opened a locker to show me how things were stored it was there I saw The Jacket. I don't remember my thoughts at that moment, but later I realized that The Jacket had come full circle and was now hanging up where it belonged, aboard a ship of the US Navy. I am sure there is more to the story of The Jacket that we can only surmise. Years later my son heard that the Twining had been used for target practice and presumably sunk in the Pacific off the California coast. Later we learned that the Twining was used as a target towing ship but not sunk. And still later it was sold to a foreign country. Whatever did happen to the Twining and whereever it went I hope it kept The Jacket.
The Twining in action
The Jacket comes home
KweiYang: Could this be our USS Twining?
First Lesson in Photography
I was introduced to photography in the mid 1930's during the time
some people referred to as the depression years. If you had a roof
over your head and were eating it was just hard times. Hard times
could not keep you from enjoying the beauty of things around you.
To be able to capture beauty on film in black and white made you
forget some of the daily hardships. My friend had a job, although
not enough money for all of the photographic equipment he desired.
While teaching me to develop film he showed me that an old car
battery made an excellent developing tray, and you could cut it off
to any size you liked. Soon he had me developing film and then making
prints. Making a light tight box would not have been difficult but
we found one in a second hand store that needed a little repair and
the price was right. Each step I learned only made me want to do more
and I was soon anxious to make some enlargements of my pictures. Again
my friend explained how to make enlargements on a very small budget.
First he visited the various Pawn Shops looking at cameras. In each
case looking closely at the lens. Soon he found what he wanted, an
old camera with a cloth bellows and just the lens he wanted. Holding
it up to the light he studied the lens carefully until the shopkeeper
came over to see if he had a sale. My friend, shaking his head, said
"If that lens wasn't cracked I would buy this camera, but I would have
to replace it." With that he handed the camera to the shopkeeper who
accepted his word that the lens was cracked. He left the store with
the camera and lens and bellows that was just what he needed for his
enlarger, and at a cost of only two dollars. My first enlarger was
obtained in a little different manner, although on a low budget. I
found a used enlarger with no lens and found a bargain lens and then
purchased a new lamp. Finding a place to do film developing when you
live in an apartment presented a few problems. First, my timing had to
be just right as the only bathroom was my darkroom. When my timing was
right then I had to place my three developing trays in the bathtub and
process my film on my hands and knees. Years later when I had my own
darkroom I wondered how I ever produced a picture in that bathroom
darkroom. Oh, one more thing, the smell of the Acid Fixer and the
stain in the tub did not endear me to my mother and sister. I guess
that might be the reason mother let me hitchhike to Arizona in the
summer of 1937. The almost completed Hoover Dam provided the perfect
subject for pictures as I hitch hiked home from Arizona.
Hoover Dam 1937
A Picture Memory
Is a picture worth 1000 words? As you look at this picture what do you
see? Perhaps you recognize it as the Campanile by the Oval at Mills College.
You may even know that it was designed by Julia Morgan and built in 1904.
Oh, but to me I see a picture I took as a twelve year old boy in 1932. It
is not a noteworthy picture in a photographic sense. But to me, memories
of that time come tumbling out in a flood. Across from the Campanile was
the Oval, as they call it now. At the time it was just a large grassy area
where the Mills girls practiced Archery. When the Archers and their targets
were gone we would search the deep crabgrass lawn for lost arrows. We found
pleasure in returning them just for the praise we received. During one
summer my best friend and I went with his father to collect coathangers
left behind by the students when they left for the summer. Sherman's father,
Mr. Medina, owned a little cleaners just outside Mills College. Sherman
and I also discovered where they dumped the trash for pickup. When the
students left for the summer their trash was a treashure trove of things
for us to collect. Paper, pencils, envelopes with stamps from all over
the world we would gather and take home. Sometimes I would visit the office
where my mother was on the local switchboard and watch her work. I can
still remember the phone number after all these years, Trinidad 2700.
Several times during the summer my mother arranged for me to take tests
given by students who were to become teachers. Usually I got fifty cents
for my work. Just outside the gate on Seminary Avenue my father had the
Pup Cafe. In addition to the counter and a few tables the cafe had a
room for Mills girls only. Someone had placed a sign over the door that
read "Port of Missing Girls." I think it was from a movie advertisement.
Some nights when my mother was on the switchboard the girls would call her
with orders for hamburgers, fries and millshakes. She, in turn, would
call my father who would make up the orders, close the cafe for the night,
and then deliver them to the dormitories. One picture may not be worth a
thousand words....but it can sure bring back a lot of nice memories. Now in
in 2001, as I look at the map of the college on the internet it looks like
a different campus. I will always remember it as a boy of twelve.
Grandpa tells about Hitchhiking
More stories from Grandpa Hubbard
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<h3><ul>Hitchhiking: Day One</ul></ul></ul></h3>
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Hoover Dam 1937
A Picture Memory
Is a picture worth 1000 words? As you look at this picture what do you see? Perhaps you recognize it as the Campanile by the Oval at Mills College. You may even know that it was designed by Julia Morgan and built in 1904. Oh, but to me I see a picture I took as a twelve year old boy in 1932. It is not a noteworthy picture in a photographic sense. But to me, memories of that time come tumbling out in a flood. Across from the Campanile was the Oval, as they call it now. At the time it was just a large grassy area where the Mills girls practiced Archery. When the Archers and their targets were gone we would search the deep crabgrass lawn for lost arrows. We found pleasure in returning them just for the praise we received. During one summer my best friend and I went with his father to collect coathangers left behind by the students when they left for the summer. Sherman's father, Mr. Medina, owned a little cleaners just outside Mills College. Sherman and I also discovered where they dumped the trash for pickup. When the students left for the summer their trash was a treashure trove of things for us to collect. Paper, pencils, envelopes with stamps from all over the world we would gather and take home. Sometimes I would visit the office where my mother was on the local switchboard and watch her work. I can still remember the phone number after all these years, Trinidad 2700. Several times during the summer my mother arranged for me to take tests given by students who were to become teachers. Usually I got fifty cents for my work. Just outside the gate on Seminary Avenue my father had the Pup Cafe. In addition to the counter and a few tables the cafe had a room for Mills girls only. Someone had placed a sign over the door that read "Port of Missing Girls." I think it was from a movie advertisement. Some nights when my mother was on the switchboard the girls would call her with orders for hamburgers, fries and millshakes. She, in turn, would call my father who would make up the orders, close the cafe for the night, and then deliver them to the dormitories. One picture may not be worth a thousand words....but it can sure bring back a lot of nice memories. Now in in 2001, as I look at the map of the college on the internet it looks like a different campus. I will always remember it as a boy of twelve.
Grandpa tells about Hitchhiking