The loneliest drive I’ve ever made was the 152 miles from San Antonio Intl Airport to Laughlin AFB, Del Rio, TX.  It’s a lovely drive through Castroville, Hondo, Sabinal, Uvalde, and Bracketville.  I think D’Hanis is  in there somewhere!  Miles of dirt and rocks and cactus and the occasional speed trap to keep you on your toes.  It was August 1978 I had dropped my brother Tim off at the airport so he could fly back to Pittsburgh  and I could make the final leg of the trip on my own.  I was driving my trustworthy old ’66 Studebaker with all of my earthly possessions in the trunk and embarking on the great adventure of an Air Force career.  Alone, unafraid, but a little apprehensive.

ROTC had taught me the big picture of how the Air Force worked but when it came to the details, things were still a bit sketchy.  I knew the first step was going to “billeting” and figuring out where I was going to live for the next year and, if you’ve ever been to an Air Force base, there are always signs to get you there.  It was an ATC base so the staff was well trained in dealing with new guys and the lady behind the desk went through her inprocessing checklist and eventually asked me where I was going to stay.  I told her that it seemed to me that staying in the “Q” on base would be convenient since my entire life would revolve around pilot training but she frowned and said, “You really don’t want to do that”.  I was a little surprised but I insisted that it seemed like the most logical choice.  She said, “How about you stay here for tonight.  Sleep on it and in the morning you can decide”.  I was tired, it had been a long day of desert and no air-conditioning, so I agreed.  I dragged my bags to my room,  which was in a 1950’s era converted barracks, and settled in for the night.  I think it was about 1:00 in the morning when someone speaking Farsi slammed a door down the hall, we still had Iranian students in 1978, and I decided to take a leak.  I reached over to the night stand, flicked on the light, and the horror began.  There was movement, lots of movement!

Now, you have to remember, I’m from Pittsburgh.  I had never been to the south or the west, just the northeast.  I was used to green trees, rolling hills, four seasons, and bugs that stayed outside.  I had never even seen a cockroach and now I was surrounded.  I leapt out of bed and started swatting and stomping.  I turned on the bathroom light and the floor was moving.  I opened the dresser drawers and things scurried for the dark corners.  After 30 minutes of carnage the movement finally stopped and I tried to go back to sleep.  But I wasn’t about to turn any lights off and all I could envision was tiny eyes watching me from dark corners just waiting for me to fade off so they could come and crawl under the sheets.  It was a long night.

The next morning I staggered down the hall to the office and asked the woman at the desk for a list of apartments in town.  She gave me a knowing smile and a list with my name at the top.  A list she had made the day before.  One of the best lessons in life is to take the advice of someone who is obviously more knowledgeable than you.

Next week “My first apartment”.