As I mentioned before, after I left for OTS, mom finally moved out of the rented house in South Gate to San Pedro, nearer the water where she had always wanted to live.
The house where she moved was the left side of a long duplex on a deep lot. The owners lived in the right half. The unit had a long hallway to the bathroom. I quickly joked that if one had to go, one needed to start out early since, by the time one arrived, one really had to go. The unit had a bedroom in the back next to the bathroom that mom used, and another halfway down the hallway, used as a den and a guest bedroom.
Regarding the two pictures above, in the one on the left, I am wearing my new Air Force uniform with the long winter coat. This must have been a morning after Christmas and New Year's when I left from LAX via Denver for Minot (note the absense of presents under the tree). While the coat may look warm, it was entirely insufficient for North Dakota I would soon learn later that same day.
Missile school wasn't for a couple of months after OTS graduation, so I could not stay much longer in San Pedro because I had accured very little leave. So, I needed to report to Minot soon. I believe that I arrived on January 3rd. When the exit door to the Frontier 737 flight opened up and I stood in the doorway, ready to descend the mobile ramp, I was blasted by the intense cold. A breeze always seemed to blow there, adding to the wind chill. It was definitely well below zero that day, even with the sun shining brightly. Unfortunately, my suitcase did not make the connection in Denver since I had to transfer from either United Airlines or Continental Airlines to Frontier.
This was the first time that I made that change of planes in Denver, the first of many such transits there. But, fortunately, this was the only time while I was stationed in Minot that my bag did not make the connecting flight with me. I was able to catch the Air Force shuttle bus from the airport to the base and immediately checked into the Visiting Officer's Quarters (VOQ). After checking in, I took another base bus to get to the Wing Building and checked in with my Squadron, the 742nd, whose color was blue.
The next morning, I had to hike from the VOQ to the dispensary, to catch the bus to the airport to retrieve my suitcase, which had arrived on that morning flight from Denver. I dressed as warmly as I could in that long Air Force coat, but I was freezing before I got halfway to the dispensary (all I had to cross was the VOQ parking lot, one street, and the dispensary parking lot; but the wind was blowing strongly and the wind chill was considerably colder). I passed someone wearing a parka, hood covering his or her head, who saluted me. I returned the salute and kept walking, grateful at having finally reached the dispensary while my ears and nose were still attached. (I didn't as yet have any long underwear either, my cold weather clothing issue not coming for another day or so.)
The picture above on the right is also in the rented San Pedro house; but as you can see, while the drapes are the same, and the TV is off to the right side of each picture, the two Christmas trees are entirely different. So, this had to be the next holiday season. Mom was only able to live in that house for a couple of years. The couple that owned it had a daughter who married; and she and her husband wanted to move in, so mom had to move out.
She found another rented house to move into that was rather old, having possibly been built in the 1920's, or earlier. She did not live there that long before moving into another house, this one on a corner lot. After she had had her first open heart surgery, she went on disability for the remainder of her life and was soon able to move into a senior housing high rise, overlooking the harbor. From her balcony on the 10th floor, you could see one end of Catalina Island to the West. You could also see ships arriving and departing from the harbor, their fog horns announcing their arrivals and departures. She would live in that same apartment for the next twenty-five years until we were forced to place her in an assisted living complex a few miles away in 2002.
Unfortunately, she had already deteriorated enough that even this arrangement was insufficient. Ann finally had to transfer her to a nursing home back in Maryland, to be near her. She lived for approximately two months before dying of congestive heart failure in June of that year. At this point she was 80, having endured those two open heart surgeries, one in the mid-1970's, the other in the early 1990's. She would not have survived a third.
But that was all ahead of us, twenty-five years in the future.
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