Recently, in my conversation with an old friend, Bill Tucker, he
and I agreed that older persons in their mid-70s like us must keep
looking forward, asking
“What’s next?”
Recently, in my conversation with an old friend, Bill Tucker, he and I agreed that older persons in their mid-70s like us must keep looking forward, asking “What’s next?”
Remember, Satchel Paige once said, “Don’t look back. Somethin’ may be gaining on you.”
Nevertheless, back in 1990, the average time an aerospace company (which was my career) expected a retiree (65) to draw a pension was two years, or an early retiree three to five years. Frankly, retirees were expected to die, shortly.
I retired early with one of those “golden handshakes” at age 62 in September 1992. Thirteen years, later, I am still drawing Lockheed Martin retirement.
Obviously, I beat the actuary tables of the time. At my age, you’ve got to keep looking forward.
Nevertheless, when I retired, I struck out on a new field. Something that I had always wanted to do. I wrote a memoir of my Korean War experiences, “We Claim the Title, Korean War Marines.” (Web: www.koreanwarmarines.com.) After three printings and two editions, and 4,300 books, I have no books left. Obviously, another printing is required.
In 1995, I formed my own publishing company, Tracy Publishing, to publish my book. I lived in Aptos, overlooking the beach, at that time. As another endeavor, I taught a class in Capitola, “Publish and Sell Your Book.”
Additionally, over the past eight years, I have published approximately 90 “articles” in newspapers and magazines. As well as a move to Morgan Hill.
Some of us, “old geezers,” keep active. And, never look back.
Besides all that, another endeavor is our “cabin” at Twentynine Palms, California.
After World War II, the BLM sold off some desert land to veterans for $125 for five acres or $25 an acre. A stipulation, however, was that the veteran had to prove up, and build on the land.
Living in Pasadena in 1948, Raymond Hart, my wife’s father, a World War II Navy veteran, put down his $125 and bought five acres of BLM land. He built his “cabin” in 1950. Dimensions of the one-room vacation “cabin” were approximately 15 feet wide by 20 feet long with a front and back door. In 1961, a water tower of 1,500-gallon capacity was erected. (Water was delivered and pumped into the tank by tanker trucks.)
In 1962, construction began on the new addition, giving the “cabin” a second room. This one was larger than the first; approximately 15 feet by 40 feet. Its length crossed the width of the original cabin, effecting a “T.” Later, a third room was added, which increased the “cabin” to approximately 1,000 square-feet. Our children learned to drive cars and motorcycles, there, on this sandy desert land.
Our property is on Two Mile Road, a curious name. But, the name came from surveyors some 100 years ago. They surveyed a parallel at the base of the southern mountains as “The Base Line.” One mile to the north, they established “One Mile Road.” But, that was actually the road to the oasis at Twentynine Palms and, later, Highway 62. That name did not establish. Another mile north was established as “Two Mile Road.”
Our five acres, fronts east to west on Two Mile Road for approximately 330 feet. From this frontage, our property extends north for approximately 660 feet. Indian Cove Wash, a flash flood run off channel, divides the property in half and deltas into a dry lake.
In September 2002, we paid almost $13,000 to the Twentynine Palms Water District for 2,600 feet of six-inch water line, a water meter and a fire hydrant to our cabin.
In October, our contractor bulldozed Indian Cove Wash that divided our five acres and heightened the rear in back of the cabin to five feet above the desert floor.
Plumbing for the bathroom and kitchen was installed, as well as a shower and bath unit, toilet and kitchen sinks. We installed a new oven, refrigerator and washer and dryer. Newly installed fencing of practically a fourth of the five acres became complete.
The entrance gate is electronically controlled. Finally, the septic tank was installed.
With re-stuccoing the outside and painting, our “desert rose” cabin became a real home.
On a desert evening looking east, our view is of spectacular red desert hills and mountains reflecting the sunset and offering compelling vistas as far as we can see.
Some theologian has said, “Let go. Let God.” Now, that’s what I intend to do.
So, looking forward, I await for “what’s next?”
