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Bill's death was so sudden and unexpected and really blew me away. My husband Bob and I had talked to him the night before we left for England to make sure all the plans were in place for our week's visit with him when we returned. He was in good spirits that night and joked with me and teased me as he always did. One thing about Bill, no matter what anyone told him on IRC, it stayed with him. He always kept confidences and I always respected him for that. He gave and gave to his friends. I had only been in chat a few months when my mother had her stroke. He made a point of PM-ing me about her. He would ask how she was doing and then tell me what to expect. He just wouldn’t let me get down, no matter how hard things got. It was Valentine’s Day of 1997 when Bill REALLY endured himself to me. I smile just thinking about it. It is so typical of him. All the ladies in the channel were telling about their gifts and their Significant Others, etc. I didn’t even get my annual cupcake from my mama, as she was in the nursing home. I was really pretty gloomy when Bill entered. I immediately sent him a PM and asked him if he would mind being my Valentine for the evening. His response is one I shall always remember – “I thought I already was your Valentine, Lil’ Lady.” That one sentence did more for me than anything could have. Many of you - especially if you have joined us in this past year - don't realize how much ya'll meant to him. When he first found 40plus, he was basically a recluse. He rarely left his home and hated to even speak to anyone because of his stutter - the result of his stroke. We all brought him out of that. We were his life line to the world, then the waters he tested first, when he met us in Myrtle Beach. We passed with flying colors!! I was so fortunate to be able to call him friend. When my mama passed away, Bill was the one who was on the phone with me each day. He was the one who insisted I go to have Thanksgiving with his mama and him so I wouldn’t have to be alone. He was the one who always brought a smile to my heart with his kidding. “Life’s too short to be sad, Lil’ Lady.” How I would love to hear those words one last time. Bill was a fantastic writer. We wrote several stories together. I feel very sad that I lost so much of his writing when the on-line site where I had saved it, disappeared without warning. I always told him it was difficult enough to keep up with him after his stroke, I never would have attempted it before! The book he was writing would have been a best seller. Yes, it was really that good. But I did manage to save one piece he wrote to listserv. He was a very warm, loving, intelligent man. I shall miss him the rest of my days. In Memory of my good friend, William Raleigh Jones, Jr. 29 September 1947 - 01 November 2000 |
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| Written by W.R. Jones It was so very long ago, but I can remember when I had gotten out of High School [I was working at a large department store] and had my entire life all planned out, as most do around that time of life...Since my parents had instilled in me that there was no money available for a college education, I just figured that I would bypass that little obstacle by joining the good ole US Navy. After talking with the recruiting Chief, I was convinced that all I need do is sign up for a six year enlistment for nuclear submarines [required at the time vs. 4] and learn, compliments of the Navy, some type of computer repair that surely they must do on one of them thar things! Then, when released, all I need do is take a 2 year programming course and I could go to some fancy place to offer services of two employees [me] for the price of, say a little over one. I did all the paperwork, said my good byes, and it was off to Chicago for the Great Lakes US Navy Training Facility. It was an enlightening experience to say the least. Nothing really difficult once you convinced yourself that you now belonged to Uncle Sam and he will do with your body as he pleases, for at least the six years you enlisted to be on his payroll. One week near the end of the training, they said that we were all required to make out what they called a 'Dream Sheet'. This was where you chose other fields other than what you enlisted, in case those fields were full or you qualified for something else. I was told that I should have no problem with what I wanted because of the extended enlistment requirements, plus it was at the time, a 'critical rate', but that 'I did do well with the language portion of the tests'. I wanted something that would keep me in computers [to keep in pace with all my plans for the future {now?}] and they offered things like aircraft electronics [DOOR GUNNER] and communications technician [SPY], but since my nuclear rating was a 'critical rate' I figured I could put down anything, so I did. The 12 weeks I was there passed rather quickly and we then received our orders for training. I, all excited to start my adventure with life, eagerly tore open the manila envelope. It read something like: You are ordered to report to Monterey CA for training at the Defense Language Institute for training 57 weeks of Chinese whatever, etc., etc. I saw my whole life passing before my tearing up eyes as I thought this HAS TO BE WRONG! I had submitted to all the sub requirements, even having all of my fillings removed and redone with 'pressure' fillings so with sudden pressure changes they would not put a hole through my head, I had been told that there had been FBI type people asking questions about me in my neighborhood! I rushed to the company telephone to call, but before I could get there I was told that there had been a mistake with my orders! Oh, there is a God! I knew that when I had made such a wise decision I could not have been misled. I was told to report to one of the many buildings to pick the new, blessed for sure, orders that they had just been ordered [by God, no doubt] to cut for me and another fellow that had a similar problem. Laughing and kidding with each other we ripped open the newly sealed orders. There was a kind of silence that could only be heard if you had been looking at a loved one standing in the middle of a super highway as he/she/it had just been struck by a sixteen wheeler just changing into high gear. With a blood drained face, I asked him what orders he had received and read the same words as he said "47 weeks of North Vietnamese Language Training!", but they never really told us why [nor that this was an even more 'critical rate']. With all that was going on over there, they really didn't have to tell us why at the time....."grin" After surviving that life lifting episode and a little Texas training in the use of radio telephone, we were all sent to the NSA in Washington, DC for more 'communications skills', then off to what I consider our most fun part of training. Jungle Survival School in Little Creek Virginia, where they attempt to teach a group of 'swabbies' the fine art of survival in the jungles of Asia. [yeah, right!] We went through a couple weeks of running, and running, and getting familiar with the weaponry of that era, and running. We were then issued a Band Aid can and told that we were to make a survival kit that would fit into this little can, and to prepare to be taken to an area somewhere in Virginia to survive for a couple of weeks off the land. We were broken down to groups of 7 men who were supposed to be part of a transport craft that was sunk behind enemy lines and had to make it, with the help of a friendly partisan [fp], to a pick up point for rescue. But first we were to make a natural site to use as a base camp until the fp showed up, and eat things of the area. Some of us went fishing for 'killer' Brim, a few for gathering edible plants in the area, and a couple of brave men [me and another] set traps with what fishing line we had for snares. The first day after the shelter was built, we had Sassafras Tea and Poke Weed. The second day consisted of the same, but on the third day... the hunters were following the same route covered the past two days, when as they approached a turn in the trail, all kinds of racket/sound/noises were heard from where the snare had been set, from a very mad animal. Not really knowing what it was or why there was so much noise coming from across the hill that divided us, we both picked up a fallen limb that was lying on the forest floor, getting ready to protect ourselves. As we peered over the hill, there before us hung a very very very pissed off beaver, hanging by its tail. With half of it, the tail, the beaver had eaten off, which showed it's pissedness to us without question. Seeing and knowing in our hearts, that when this beaver accomplishes this task, he would be looking for some answers as his big front teeth glistened in the morning sunlight. Without hesitation, driven by that thought, the hunger pains in our belly's and the taste of poke weed in our mouths, clubs raised, we charged this viscious wild animal [forgive me Rookie]. We would have won some type of tether ball prize if it had been a tournament. Proudly, we returned to the base camp to show and tell. Having an old parachute in our possession for some reason, we voted on preserving as much meat as possible by smoking the meat. Unfortunately, as the tail of the Beaver Jerky spread all over the area, we were forced by the instructors [for educational purposes] to share with the others in the total group. Finally, the fp showed up. He gave us several headings [225 deg, 180 deg] and distances [8 mi, 3 mi] to transverse where we would receive additional information. And off we went, enjoying beaver jerky as we did; it was around 0430 hrs [4:30 am]. That evening after following these directions, we found attached to a tree, a note with more headings and distances to cover, which we did until we found that note saying to wait where we were and get some sleep for 2 hours [about 2345 hrs then {11:45 pm}] then he would give us new headings and directions. We were supposed to do as trained but because of the distances we had traveled in this mountainous forest, etc. we all just put out our sleeping bags under a bush and laid down in them. Just as we had dozed off, all hell broke loose, mortars/machine guns/handgrenades [all dummy types] were going off all around us while the Viet Cong [instructors] 'captured' us. The rules were: Every instructor was equal to 11 people; no one could hit an instructor; if one man is captured the whole 'team' was captured; if one man escapes from capture the whole 'team' escapes; for each rifle butt across the head you had to do ten pushups. [We found out why these rules were made, were because the instructors were Marines, and that the group before us were some Navy Seals that evidently didn't follow rules very well and kicked some whatever.......] Of course, we were unarmed of even blanks, and were very shaken with the 'attack' and pissed that it had to happen then just a few minutes into what we all had gone into, the sleep mode. We all had jumped from our sleeping bags and stood bare footed [cause all good survival recruits know to air the shoes out in the jungle] in the forest with this screaming 'VC' telling us to give him some rifle butts! I noticed that this VC of ours was yelling and looking off into a different direction from my potential running path. Knowing that only 'one person' need escape to allow the entire team to be set free, but not remembering what happened to me in the first grade [the other incident]. I bolted and ran like the wind to allow my fellow shipmates to escape the wrath of whatever these instructor's had planned. I ran also with the knowledge that this was a forest, with trees, and that at any moment I could meet one of the abruptly, it was pitch dark and the VC screams slowly faded into the distance, then at full gallop it happened. I found the briar patch that the Burr animal wanted to be thrown, by feel, without boots! Not wanting to give away my newly conquered position, I gave out no squeal with my eyes watering, slowly covering the forest ground with blood from my bleeding shredded feet. Not wanting or able to take another step, I froze, similar to being in a mine field, I imagined. I stood there for the longest time too. Surely, they must now know that I have escaped and saved the team! I waited a little longer and listened to now only silence, they didn't even know I was gone, and I guess I have been ever since...but at least in my poor mind, I was once a hero. "grin" Giang |
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