Port Orange Jock

One upstate New York man's successful journey through life doing the only jobs he ever loved. Being a Radio personality,(with one long side trip through the Postal Service).

Name:
Location: Port Orange, Florida, United States

Thursday, May 26, 2005

There's not to much I can say about my stay in South Korea. The base at Osan was the headquarters for 8th Air Force. It was very large and therefore I was able to go bowling or enjoy the theater at will. There's alot of movies I must have seen 15 times that year. It was a safe haven from the 50,000 people that lived in the village outside the front gate. Back then, the streets were muddy and the country very poor. Beggars would sell their wares along Main Street. They did have some nightclubs that played Rock & Roll, but one never ventured off base alone at night. Most of the people were very friendly and polite toward base personnel. My best friend worked at the base Radio Station(naturally!). Talking with him about Radio made the time go by insanely fast, which is exactly what I wanted. My one constant thought was this would be the last Air Force base I would ever serve on. As the end of my tour approached, the Air Force, in it's infinite wisdom, decided to try and get me to re-enlist. Whom were they kidding! A lot of money was mentioned, which I basically laughed at. If they had guaranteed me another stripe, maybe I would have considered it. But the offer never came. To put it bluntly, I was never military material. But I was consistant. I hated it going in, and I hated it going out. When I arrived in Seattle to officially get out of the Air Force, I thought Lincoln had again freed the slaves. End of Chapter 4.

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