Me on X-country skis in the White Mountains of Arizona, circa 1981. It’s been 30 years. That blows me away…
Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long forgotten snow.
My younger brother, Gregory Lee. This was taken at the “Filthy Five”, five acres the family owned out in the middle of nowhere, near Perris, California. Probably taken around 1975 or so…
This is my mother’s father Hal Clinkenbeard. He spent most of his life in Memphis, Tennessee working for the Post Office Department. I met him on several occasions while growing up but I obviously did not know him well.
In honor of Father’s Day, some snaps of my dad…
This is from Dad’s prospecting days. He’d drive the ol’ Bullfrog (Jeep) out into the desert and search for precious minerals. I do believe that would be a Geiger counter on his lap…
Back in those days his day job was managing a fast food joint called The Rite Spot. He also manned the grill and was a master at cooking and flipping dozens of burgers simultaneously. I guess he had to be because burgers were like a dime each or 12 for a dollar. Popular hangout for the local teenagers in Westminster, California until the McDonalds opened up directly across the street.
Dad also always enjoyed doing the yard work. If he couldn’t find the rake, he’d give a clean sweep with the push broom.
Evening relaxation was a beer, a smoke, and some Marty Robbins on the record player…
During the war Dad served in the merchant marine as a 16 year old and later enlisted in the Army…
And finally, here’s one of Dad (back row, 3rd from left) with his chums in Memphis, Tennessee…
This would be 1972 aboard the Queen Mary in Long Beach, California. My date was Karen Rush.
Stuck in the middle of Gregory Lee and Keith Randall. 1960 or so. Backyard of the house on El Rancho (or maybe Flagstone) in Garden Grove, California.
AKA “mom”. Although she wasn’t one then.
My first softball team, The Ringwraiths. I was a fanatic for the game for a dozen years of so, until my travel schedule at work made team sports unrealistic. I had a nice run though, playing on some championship winning teams in far flung venues from Southern Cal, to Arizona, to Arkansas. Truth be told, I still miss those glory days…
Of those pictured I can only recall the names of Jim Meehan (66), Rod Headlee (13), Larry Raemakers (6), Doug Price (35) and my brother Keith (22). I’m wearing #7. Photo was taken in 1973 or 1974.
I reckon this to be sometime in the fall of 1974. It was during the Barstow to Las Vegas dirt bike race in which my pal Rod Headlee was competing. This was at a gas stop in some desolate desert burg after the race had started. We were on our way to meet the riders at the finish line in Vegas. The handsome dude in shades and hat would be me, the guy in the middle with the wild hair is my brother Greg. The rude guy with his finger extended? A friend of a friend whose name is lost to history. I also have no idea who snapped the photo, but it was with my 110 Instamatic Kodak…
Places I Go
Kevin: I am proud of the