When the USS Fitzgerald collided with the ACX Crystal roughly forty nautical miles southwest of Tokyo Bay, i was involved with a flurry of emails among retired Navy Surface Warfare Officers like me. There was a lot of information we didn’t know and still don’t, but we all generally agreed the Commanding Officer should be relieved for cause. He is ultimately responsible for his ship. That, of course reached fruition several days ago. Complete information remains either undisclosed or the investigation is not yet complete. Seven sailors were killed in the incident.

Then Monday, the USS John R. McCain collided with the  Alnic MC, a 600-foot, Liberian-flagged oil and chemical tanker east of the infamous Straits of Malacca and Singapore. There is one sailor confirmed dead and nine still are officially listed as missing as i write. From what little i know, the McCain may not be as much as fault, but it is way too early with so much more information required to determine fault of either ship.

The ensuing reaction of higher command was as expected. The Fitzgerald’s CO, XO, several other officers and senior enlisted were dumped. A Safety Stand Down was ordered throughout the fleet. Investigations, studies, and all sorts of other reactions are de riguer in such cases. The senior chain of command even dumped the commander of seventh fleet, a three-star who was close to retiring.

And already, folks are positioning to find blame or an excuse to push their projects ahead. Flags are saying it was predicted because there are not enough ships, deployments are too long and taxing, hours make for poor decisions. It all translates to: “See, we told you so. If you gave us the ships and the money, money, money we want, this would never have happened. It wasn’t our fault.” The link to the article i read is at the end of this post.

i am a bit frustrated. i reached out to one of my former commanding officers who replied to my emailed questions. Excerpts from that email are below. i will leave the respondent anonymous because he did not expect his comments to be made public. i have the greatest respect for him, and am pretty sure the best surface commanding officers under whom i served including this one would have responded in much the same way as he did:

The Navy is embarrassed and a big head had to roll to get everyone’s attention…lack of fuel for steaming hours and touchy-feely meetings about social issues under the previous SECNAV sure didn’t help improve seamanship. My guess the Navy problem is a combination of a number of things but the responsibility for the safe navigation rests with the Captain and the watch he has entrusted with the safety of the ship. I believe each of us can remember close calls so I hesitate to point fingers.

i agree with his comments concerning responsibility of the CO and his entrusted watch standers. i also agree the Navy hierarchy felt it necessary to make a statement by firing Seventh Fleet after the incidents of McCain, the Fitzgerald, and the two other ships, the Antietam running aground in Tokyo Bay and the Lake Champlain colliding with a South Korean fishing vessel since the turn of this year.

This is all puzzling to me. i served on ten ships. As my commanding officer noted, i and every Surface Warfare Officer i know who spent time at sea have experienced close calls. i remember about a half-dozen extremely close encounters of the sea kind when i was the officer-of-the-deck. They were close, too close, but there was no collision.

After i was commissioned, the standard deployment to the Western Pacific or the Mediterranean was ten months. Later in my career, the Navy reduced it to six months. That’s hardly enough time to get over there, wherever that is, and get acclimated before turning around. Nor does less time at sea improve safe navigation.

Sailors belong at sea. i suffered from the “mid-cruise” blues (roughly the half-way point in a deployment where sailors realize there is still a long way to go before they get home) on every deployment. When they reduced the deployment time, they reduced time at sea. On numerous deployments, it was not unusual to stand “port and starboard” (six hours on watch and six hours off) for extended periods of time. When difficult operations or exercises were underway, i frequently would be up on watch or at work on station for 24 hours and more. The long periods of unrelenting pressure did not diminish my performance. They made me better the next time.

i am not sure if “ship swaps” are still in vogue. The submarine force has had blue and gold teams for as long as i can remember. They swapped out on deployments with the “off” crew preparing and training for the next one. i am old school and i never liked this plan for surface ships. Our ship was a breathing, living organism we learned to appreciate if not loved. We knew our ships and we knew their eccentricities. We were part of her when we navigated her through dangerous situations.

i am all in favor of an equal opportunity Navy. Women being assigned to ships was a positive from my perspective. i’m even writing a book about my time when the program was in its beginning and i was the XO of the USS Yosemite during an Indian Ocean deployment when she was the first ship with women assigned to spend extended out of port time at sea. It worked extremely well.

i do not care what gender or sexual orientation sailors are. As long as they contribute to the mission. The Navy should not be about making everyone feel good. The military should not be a social engineering experiment. The purpose of ships at sea is to meet the Navy’s mission. Period. The Navy should reflect the cultural mores of the country and should be above the biases and prejudices that cloud judgement. However, spending all sorts of time with training should be time spent in training for the being at sea.

Driving a ship was one of my greatest thrills and one fraught with danger. There is no responsibility greater than that of a commanding officer being ultimately responsible for the safety of his/her ship. There is no more of a sacred trust than when the commanding officer qualifies an officer to stand watch in his stead. Nearly all, if not all collisions at sea can be avoided if a ship takes proper action in a critical moment of time. But it takes constant vigilance, constant awareness of the situation in relation to the Rules of the Road. To attain that vigilance, awareness, and capability to execute in a timely manner requires the team to spend countless hours at sea.

Oh by the way, i had two shore tours during my active duty. They were good tours, but they were two too many for me. i wanted all of my tours to be on ships. i am positive the amount of sea tours made me a better mariner. Surface Warfare Officers are required to have subspecialties and Washington tours. Getting promoted and being attractive for flag is as, if not more important than successful sea tours. Staying at sea, i belatedly found out is not career enhancing. That, i believe is the problem. Surface Warfare Officers and their enlisted counterparts should be spending more time at sea and their shore time should be preparing for that.

But then, i am an old salt, a mariner, a surface warfare officer, and not a politician.

http://www.military.com/daily-news/2017/08/23/why-navy-ships-colliding-pacific-experts-weigh-in.html#.WZ73hQpQ8So.email

Sometimes i feel extremely lucky being old and regret i didn’t appreciate my past when i was younger. i was also lucky in that i began to appreciate my past when my father and mother would travel to the Southwest corner to spend a month or more with us to miss the harsher time of winter back home in Lebanon. They began that annual sojourn in 1986. My father was 72, my mother was 69. We shared many tales of our and Lebanon’s past for fifteen winters.

i don’t think most younger folks really understand the beauty and worth of family memories. i certainly didn’t. After all,  i had things like the Navy, three wives, two daughters, and many other distractions. And of course, they were old fogies and my generation knew how to save the world and themselves. Even though it didn’t happen. It seems the following generations are faring no better and perhaps worse in learning from their predecessors.

But who knows? i am too old to worry about it. i will just keep writing and talking about memories and my lessons learned and hope some of them will take just a little bit, maybe on anecdote to make the young’uns  lives a little better.

i usually post old photos in Facebook albums, primarily as an easy way to make the photos accessible to a wide array of relatives from both sides of the Jewell-Prichard family. Hopefully, family will appreciate the past and my using my post to share family memories.

But these photos are a bit special to me. You see, about sixteen years ago, my parents made their last fifth wheel run to the Southwest corner to miss the harshest part of winter in Tennessee. They began that tradition in 1985 and ceased making the trip in 2001, three years shy of my father’s ninetieth birthday. On this particular trip, one or two before they gave it up, a photo album was created. It was a compilation of old Jewell and Prichard photographs. What is really special about it is Maureen and my mother worked on it together.

i can see them putting it together. The descriptions of the folks in the photos written to the side is Maureen’s handwriting. i can see them taking each photo out of one of the cardboard boxes we have kept to organize all of our photos together. i can almost hear my mother telling Maureen a story behind each of the photos as they slide them into the plastic sheaths to protect them.

So when i look at the photos, i not only see some slices of history from our past, but i see these two women, so special to me, working on the project. Maureen and Estelle Jewell had a wonderful relationship. They truly loved each other and enjoyed each other’s company. It was always a great pleasure to watch them together.

There are lot of photographs here. i almost stopped several times. My inability to do proper layouts in WordPress is discouraging. But there was a stubbornness that overcame me and i was determined to finish. Maybe a bit of Estelle Jewell wore off on me. The captions here are mine.

And every time i look at the album or this post, i will think of the love these two shared. And i will be happy.

Again, i apologize for the layout.

So here are the photos:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i was fascinated and watched straight through, from beginning to end, afraid to move or look away, concerned i might miss something.

It was just before noon when i opened Gail Hatcher Morris’ link. Thanks, Gail. i finished viewing as the little hand and the big hand met at the top of the Navy clock i have in my office. It took about eighteen minutes. i suspect most of you who read this will not have the patience to watch the whole thing. i don’t blame you. While i was transfixed watching, that other part of my brain was thinking this was a lot of time when i should be doing something productive. Just couldn’t do it. Transfixed.

Here it is: http://www.onlyinyourstate.com/tennessee/tn-state-prison/.

Perhaps i was so into it because i went there way back when. i may have gone twice. It seems so. But i can’t pinpoint the other time or reason. The one i do remember is pretty clear considering it was sixty-three years ago. Oh, i don’t remember a great deal of specifics about the place.

The video presents the place as beautiful in its eerie, somewhat scary, own way. The production by Brian Siskind and Jim DeMain is itself quite beautiful. Siskind’s music is beautiful and befitting the footage. i did wonder the purpose in that “Justin Brown and the Tennessee Department of Corrections” agreed to the project.

You see, i went to the state prison in the spring of 1956, on a tour mind you. i was twelve. The occasion was McClain Elementary on West Main had a field trip for members of the safety patrol. We’re the sixth grade boys — they weren’t ready to let girls be on the safety patrol: after all, it was a different time — who had the bamboo poles with the red flags stopping traffic at the direction of the Lebanon City policeman who was there every morning and every afternoon. The trip began in the morning after all of the children were in school. i guess the fifth graders were the safety patrol that afternoon.

The second part of the field trip was supposed to be attending a wrestling match. i’m guessing that was at the Hippodrome on West End just past the Vanderbilt campus. Gone now…of course. The Hippodrome was one major large skating rink. i, however, remember it when they sat up a stage at one end, put in four hundred or so folding chairs, and held rhythm and blues reviews there while i was at Vanderbilt. In my mind, i can still see still see Ms Fox of Inez and Charlie Fox fame come out in a skin tight, gold lamé jump suit, launch into “Mockingbird,” and then in the middle of the instrumental turn her backside to the audience, bend over, and shake her tail feathers. And the man running at full speed down the aisle in attempt to meet the before mentioned Ms Fox face to face, so to speak, and tackled by a security guard about three-quarters of the way down the aisle. And Sam Cooke showing up almost an hour late and singing one song (no, i don’t remember the song) and leaving. And Jackie Wilson pushing the mike and stand toward the audience, doing a 360 pirouette, kicking the bottom of the mike stand pulling the mike back to him, making love to the self same microphone while falling to the floor, which put one young woman in a tight skirt and three-inch heels launching herself full speed down that aisle but not stopped by security and diving onto the stage into the arms of Mr. Wilson and that microphone where they proceeded to make out sans mike until the end of the song when they both went backstage.

But that was much later in my youth and the wrestling match was cancelled or there was some other rock in the road to see the wrestlers so the safety patrol went to Sulphur Dell to watch the Nashville Vols take on the New Orleans Pelicans, Birmingham Barons, Memphis Chicks or another team in the double-A Southern League.

However, the Tennessee State Prison visit was the indelible memory. We toured the grounds and saw where they made license plates and we saw the cells and the open area and the cafeteria, and the highlight of Old Smoky, the electric chair. On the way out, we stopped at the gift shop where they sold goods made by the well-behaved inmates, and i bought…Guess? Yep, i bought a twelve-inch model of Old Smoky, the electric chair. It was made of wood. The seat and back were natural wood. The arms and legs were painted red. There was black lettering on the seat back, which i think read “Tennessee State Prison.” When i bought it, there were small leather straps on the arms and at the head level for strapping in the culprit. They disappeared pretty quickly.

i cannot remember how my mother reacted when i brought it home that night. i think she restrained herself, but i do wonder what she told my father after i had gone to bed. i’ll bet a hundred dollars he laughed.

i didn’t use it very much. i do remember frying some particularly bad miniature guys, but only once or twice during my playtime. It was more of an ornament in Joe’s and my upstairs bedroom. It stayed around a long time. i’m not exactly sure when it disappeared but i suspect when Mother and Daddy cleared out the house when they moved from the Castle Heights homestead to Deer Park.

Of course, i was twelve. Boys of twelve think quite a bit differently than boys or girls at any other age i think. i remember thinking how strange that prison was and how awful it would be to be penned up there, especially if you were waiting to meet Old Smoky in a final set to. i remember thinking i wasn’t ever gonna do anything to get be in there for a longer stay. i also remember showing my bravado and making fun, laughing like twelve-year old boys do when they are around each other (if they are still allowed to do so).

As the video shows, it was a magnificent, old beautiful, place, but eerie, overbearing, yes scary.

And the video took me back to a time of innocence, a time of not knowing all i should know, a time when adults thought that would be a cool place to visit on a sixth grade safety patrol trip.

Bet they don’t do those kinds of things nowadays.

 

 

i think i’m channeling John Lennon, but please, please, please (as James Brown would often sing), keep Yoko Ono far, far away from me.

i was just wondering:

What if all of those folks believing they were Christians, instead of protesting, defaming others, said (sorta like Jesus), i forgive you, i love you, may Lord have mercy on your soul, and then they let Him take care of it?

What if all of those folks tearing down statues, yelling and spitting at the opposition, screaming denigrating attacks, said to the opposition, we don’t agree, but you are human beings like us and we would like to talk to you about why and how we differ and how we might get along?

What if, the media reported good news one day, just good news (even though i know they couldn’t stand it for more than one day, i would like it to be most of the time) instead of seeking out sensational, soap opera crap, and digging for dirt?

What if all of those who inherited big money; those who became filthy rich from their businesses; athletes, entertainers, and politicians who have made crazy amounts of money tried to live on several million and gave the rest to helping people across the country and the world who are down and out?

What if all of those folks throwing rocks at our current or immediate past presidents (as well as several others) quit and started working on programs and initiatives to change things for the better?

What if all of our congress persons quit worrying about getting reelected and serving those who give them money and started working for the good of our country and all humankind?

What if everyone quit worrying and attacking all of those people and establishments they perceive are making it difficult for them and their beliefs stop and just worry about how they are managing themselves in their relationships?

What if everyone, i mean everyone just started trying hard to live by the Golden Rule? You know, the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you?

What if…oh Lord, it ain’t gonna happen, i know but just think about what if everyone quit trying to fix everyone else and actually focused on fixing themselves?

Nah…wouldn’t work unless we shot all of those who don’t agree with us.

i am going through my files and finding some things i started under “ip” for “in progress.” i usually find they are no longer pertinent and simply delete them, but occasionally, i find one i like. This is one from 2009 i began then set aside. i added the last few lines today.

i do not like this spate of spam
received regardless of who i am
which arrives each day
by facebook post or in my email;
nor do i like these political posts
even if i agree
political posts are one-sided, mean
absolutely not for me
and
i’m tired such stuff
but i don’t know what to do
‘cause i like the social stuff
with friends i share;
i would say “knock it off”
but that doesn’t work
for folks who have their own agenda
without regard for friends who don’t.

so what’s a fellow to do?