We got up early in Tucson and headed to a Shell gas station near the motel to have the alternator changed. (This just occurred to me. You young folks probably don't realize that back in the day every gas station had a mechanic and they fixed cars. Today gas stations just sell gas and snacks.) We pulled into the station and the owner set his mechanic to work. When he was done it was time to pay the bill. The owner would not take a check from Missouri, so I needed to cash the bank cashier's check I was saving for the moving van. I needed the car to get to the nearest bank. The owner agreed to let me go in the car to the bank, but he also demanded that I go alone and leave Joyce and our daughter as insurance that I would return. I found a bank and went in to cash the check. The bank did not want to take the check unless I paid for a long distance call to our bank in Missouri. I agreed. It seems that there were bad guys running around cashing cashier's checks that had been forged. They made the call and then charged me for the call and a fee to cash the check too, ever diminishing our limited funds. I went back and paid the gas station owner for the alternator and the labor and retrieved my family. We were on the road again.
We shed Arizona that day, crossing into California. Thus began the long climb up and over the mountains. We had topped the range at Alpine California and started our descent when I started hearing a whine from the back of the car. It didn't sound good, but I had to press on and worry about that later. We had a deadline to meet. We rolled into San Diego about noontime and crossed the newly added bridge from San Diego to Coronado. We went to Coronado because I was sure I could get a job at the Naval Air overhaul and repair facility. More on that later. We got off the bridge and headed down "D" street. We were just 30 yards away from San Diego bay when we saw a for rent sign at a 4 family apartment building. I thought to myself that maybe things were looking up for us. Joyce and I walked up and knocked on the manager's door. The woman invited us in and we sat down to talk with her. She said the apartment was directly above her's so she wanted to know what kind of people would be above her. We passed her test and then she said she would rent it to us and she needed first month's rent, last month's rent and a security deposit equal to a month's rent. That was not unreasonable to me, but I knew that would drain our checking account. Joyce never blinked and asked if she would take our Missouri check? She did and we had a roof over our head.
I called the van line to let them know where we were and to ask when they expected the driver with our belongings. The van line manager said the driver was there and would be headed our way in minutes and we had to pay the driver in cash. I forget the exact total but it was more than $500 and that was nearly 500 more than we had left. We rummaged through our car to find some U.S. savings bonds I had for several years at that point. Surely I could go to any bank and cash them, right? I left the apartment and walked down Orange avenue to the first bank I saw and then walked in to cash in my bonds. They wanted identification. I had my Missouri driver's license, but the license did not have a picture on it back then. The bank turned me down. I didn't have time to argue so I left and went on to the next bank. Orange avenue seemed to have a bank branch on nearly every corner back then. I don't remember how many of them turned me down, but I had walked from the bay to near the Pacific ocean before I found a very nice female cashier who decided to help me if she could. She pulled out a sheet of paper that listed the requirements to cash a U.S. savings bond. I had my driver's license, but I needed one more means of identification. She read down the list and one thing after another was something I did not have, until she said a military DD-214 (military discharge paper). Bingo! I had mine with our belongings back at the apartment. I hustled back to there and found my DD-214 and as I was leaving, the driver pulled the van up on the street. He did not have a helper and the apartment was on the second floor of the building, so I figured I had time to get back to the bank and cash the bonds. We did not have that much in the van, but going up those steps with one thing at a time was going to take that driver a long time to complete. That last bank cashed my bonds and I was back at the apartment just before he finished unloading our stuff.
As I mentioned earlier, I was sure I could get a job at the Naval Air overhaul and repair facility there at North Island. I had experience working on the equipment, so it would be simple right? Not so, there was a long list of ex-sailors waiting in line for those jobs. I was told that I might have a chance in a year or year and a half of moving up to an interview. I didn't have that kind of time to wait. So that went sour and I started looking around San Diego. I had an interview at Burroughs computer company in Rancho Bernardo, about 30 miles north of Coronado. I drove out on the interstate and got off at the proper exit and started up the hill to the Burroughs building there. I mentioned earlier in this post about that whining sound coming from the back of the car. Halfway up the hill the engine raced and the car stopped moving. I let it roll back to the curb and locked the front wheel against the curb and dashed the rest of the way to my interview. I was desperate at that point and needed that job. I spoke with 2 electrical engineers and the engineering manager. All of them asking me questions to find out what I knew about electronics. After the manager questioned me I was done and could head for home. I walked back down the hill to a Shell gas station and told the manager there that the rear axle had slid out and without the wheel well catching the tire it would have fell off the car. He said they could tow the car and repair it by the next day.
I caught a bus back to downtown San Diego and transferred to one going to Coronado. It stopped at every freeway exit all the way back. I think it took me almost 3 hours to get home. I got a call from Burroughs late that afternoon and they wanted me to start the next day. That caused another panic. I would have to start at 4 in the morning to be sure to get there on the bus and be ready to work by 8. I remembered an old navy buddy of mine was in San Diego at the 32nd street Naval Station. I searched the phone book and gave him a call. He was kind enough to get up and take me out to pick up my car. By the time I paid cash to get my car back we were flat broke and wondering how we were going to eat until I got my first paycheck. We somehow muddled through and when I cashed my first paycheck we bought groceries, had supper and then I walked out the back gate of the apartment building lawn and went right into the liquor store directly behind us to get a bottle of Tequila and some mixer to celebrate our arrival in Margaritaville. We were finally on our way back to prosperity!
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
We shed Arizona that day, crossing into California. Thus began the long climb up and over the mountains. We had topped the range at Alpine California and started our descent when I started hearing a whine from the back of the car. It didn't sound good, but I had to press on and worry about that later. We had a deadline to meet. We rolled into San Diego about noontime and crossed the newly added bridge from San Diego to Coronado. We went to Coronado because I was sure I could get a job at the Naval Air overhaul and repair facility. More on that later. We got off the bridge and headed down "D" street. We were just 30 yards away from San Diego bay when we saw a for rent sign at a 4 family apartment building. I thought to myself that maybe things were looking up for us. Joyce and I walked up and knocked on the manager's door. The woman invited us in and we sat down to talk with her. She said the apartment was directly above her's so she wanted to know what kind of people would be above her. We passed her test and then she said she would rent it to us and she needed first month's rent, last month's rent and a security deposit equal to a month's rent. That was not unreasonable to me, but I knew that would drain our checking account. Joyce never blinked and asked if she would take our Missouri check? She did and we had a roof over our head.
I called the van line to let them know where we were and to ask when they expected the driver with our belongings. The van line manager said the driver was there and would be headed our way in minutes and we had to pay the driver in cash. I forget the exact total but it was more than $500 and that was nearly 500 more than we had left. We rummaged through our car to find some U.S. savings bonds I had for several years at that point. Surely I could go to any bank and cash them, right? I left the apartment and walked down Orange avenue to the first bank I saw and then walked in to cash in my bonds. They wanted identification. I had my Missouri driver's license, but the license did not have a picture on it back then. The bank turned me down. I didn't have time to argue so I left and went on to the next bank. Orange avenue seemed to have a bank branch on nearly every corner back then. I don't remember how many of them turned me down, but I had walked from the bay to near the Pacific ocean before I found a very nice female cashier who decided to help me if she could. She pulled out a sheet of paper that listed the requirements to cash a U.S. savings bond. I had my driver's license, but I needed one more means of identification. She read down the list and one thing after another was something I did not have, until she said a military DD-214 (military discharge paper). Bingo! I had mine with our belongings back at the apartment. I hustled back to there and found my DD-214 and as I was leaving, the driver pulled the van up on the street. He did not have a helper and the apartment was on the second floor of the building, so I figured I had time to get back to the bank and cash the bonds. We did not have that much in the van, but going up those steps with one thing at a time was going to take that driver a long time to complete. That last bank cashed my bonds and I was back at the apartment just before he finished unloading our stuff.
As I mentioned earlier, I was sure I could get a job at the Naval Air overhaul and repair facility there at North Island. I had experience working on the equipment, so it would be simple right? Not so, there was a long list of ex-sailors waiting in line for those jobs. I was told that I might have a chance in a year or year and a half of moving up to an interview. I didn't have that kind of time to wait. So that went sour and I started looking around San Diego. I had an interview at Burroughs computer company in Rancho Bernardo, about 30 miles north of Coronado. I drove out on the interstate and got off at the proper exit and started up the hill to the Burroughs building there. I mentioned earlier in this post about that whining sound coming from the back of the car. Halfway up the hill the engine raced and the car stopped moving. I let it roll back to the curb and locked the front wheel against the curb and dashed the rest of the way to my interview. I was desperate at that point and needed that job. I spoke with 2 electrical engineers and the engineering manager. All of them asking me questions to find out what I knew about electronics. After the manager questioned me I was done and could head for home. I walked back down the hill to a Shell gas station and told the manager there that the rear axle had slid out and without the wheel well catching the tire it would have fell off the car. He said they could tow the car and repair it by the next day.
I caught a bus back to downtown San Diego and transferred to one going to Coronado. It stopped at every freeway exit all the way back. I think it took me almost 3 hours to get home. I got a call from Burroughs late that afternoon and they wanted me to start the next day. That caused another panic. I would have to start at 4 in the morning to be sure to get there on the bus and be ready to work by 8. I remembered an old navy buddy of mine was in San Diego at the 32nd street Naval Station. I searched the phone book and gave him a call. He was kind enough to get up and take me out to pick up my car. By the time I paid cash to get my car back we were flat broke and wondering how we were going to eat until I got my first paycheck. We somehow muddled through and when I cashed my first paycheck we bought groceries, had supper and then I walked out the back gate of the apartment building lawn and went right into the liquor store directly behind us to get a bottle of Tequila and some mixer to celebrate our arrival in Margaritaville. We were finally on our way back to prosperity!
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
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