The 80's Part 1

The 80’s

A decade to remember.

I started ready to tell you that the 80’s was the best decade of my life.  With further internalizing, I decided that it wasn’t necessarily fair to friends and family to make that statement. The fact remains that the 80’s were the years of my greatest growth. They also contained some of the most interesting and fun times of my life.  For those of you that were part of my life then I hope this reminds you of good times or, at the very least, will bring you a wry smile. 

The decade was not all roses.  1980 started wonderfully. My senior prom, a wonderful girlfriend who worked much harder on our relationship than I, my senior trip, and preparation for graduation highlighted the first few months. Unfortunately, graduation put an end to the good times.  I stated in a previous blog that I was lost. I graduated and had no clue what to do with my life. I was angry and confused and started treating friends and family poorly. It culminated in me drinking heavily (the drinking age was only 18 in New York at that time) drug use and erratic behavior. By the spring of 1981, my girlfriend had enough and moved on. To her credit, she tried hard to keep things together much longer than I deserved. This hit hard and I spiraled even more. I could probably write an entire book just on my stupidity around this time.  To my credit, as soon as the split occurred I realized I needed a change. 

Within a couple of weeks of the breakup, I was sitting in the Air Force recruiter’s office. I signed up immediately but because there was currently a backlog in recruitment I was put on delayed enlistment until March 1st of 1982.  Initially, I told no one. I finished my first year of college at Herkimer County Community College. I had isolated myself by this time and only talked with a select few at college. I spent my time at the radio station and skipping classes. I made sure I passed enough courses to get a stripe when I went into the Air Force but that was it.  I continued on my self-destructive path. I quit any type of drugs because I had multiple physicals and drug tests to pass for the Air Force but continued to drink and on a couple of occasions fell back to marijuana. I don't think I told anyone I signed up until summer. I said my goodbyes to old friends the following February and on the last day of the month said some tearful goodbyes to my parents and boarded the bus for processing into active duty. 

I departed Syracuse New York March 1st and arrived at Lackland Air Force base in San Antonio Texas in the very early morning of March 2nd. It was instantly eye-opening. I don’t think I believe anyone that says basic training was fun. I often felt lonely and isolated. I am sure some of the letters I wrote to people then were pretty pitiful. Despite this, something changes in you in basic.  You learn to take orders.  You realize you can’t make it alone and develop teamwork. You get back into physical shape.  Most of all you develop a pride in yourself. You leave basic with your head up.  You also know that you would give your life for almost everyone you graduate with. That sense of teamwork and ability to follow orders are implanted in your brain.

At the end of April 1982 I shipped off to Biloxi Mississippi for a technical school in Ground Radio Communications.  Unlike high school and college where I just skated through, I was getting high honors. They sent letters to my parents that I was near the top of my class.  I got to see Ship Island, and visited New Orleans three or four times on weekends, and the old outgoing me was back. I made friends and enjoyed my time.  It was like college in some ways but much more structured. From there,  after my first leave and home visit, I reported to Robins AFB as part of the 5th Combat Contingency Group, better known as the 5th Mob.  It was here that I found a military family. Everyone looked out for each other.  There was a camaraderie that I had never experienced before. That part of Georgia was not a great place for a 20-year-old, as there was not much to do outside of the base. Yet the people there made it great.  They had picnics and camping trips to Stone Mountain, and almost every weekend some outing or party was planned. To this day many from the Mob keep in touch with me.  Little did I know when I arrived that I would be there less than six months. Around February of 1983, everything was turned upside down.

The rest will have to wait.  I have decided to make this a two-part entry. I still have a lot to say.  Hopefully, I will get back to it soon so things are not left unfinished. There is just too much to say. Part two will talk about the White House, meeting my wife, the birth of our firstborn born and more. For now, I say thank you for reading. I will finish soon.