Author: pat Stith

Man Overboard! Or Maybe Not.

The USS Los Angeles was at sea off the coast of Japan and, except for sailors who were standing watch, the crew was asleep, when someone turned the lights on in our berthing compartment and ordered us to get up, dress, and muster.

USS Los Angeles (CA-135)
USS Los Angeles (CA-135)

Lights went on all over the ship –the entire crew, rousted out of their racks, was mustering on deck.

One of our shipmates was missing.

If he wasn’t aboard ship, then he must overboard, which meant the Los Angeles and her escorts would turn around and try to find him.

But was he overboard?

We were ordered to search everywhere, including our lockers — including the small drawers in our lockers where we kept our wallets — everywhere.

The man we were looking for owed money to shipmates who charged an interest rate that would have made the mafia blush — you borrowed $5, you owed $7 on payday.

This was payday and the missing man hadn’t paid up, couldn’t pay up.  He owed so much to so many and the interest on his debts was accumulating so fast, his whole paycheck wouldn’t cover the interest.    

Had he gone into hiding?

Yes!

He was found laying on a shelf in the ship’s galley, behind a row of canned goods.

Postscript: The missing man was confined for his own safety until we returned to port and then he was transferred.  No one admitted loaning him money and charging interest, which was against Navy regulations.

Coming Monday:  Ha, Ha, Ha!

The Question I Didn’t Ask

It’s a little scary how, in the blink of an eye, the direction of your life can shift radically, this way or that.

IMG_6824When I was 17-year-old senior I won a sports writing contest for high school students, a contest sponsored by The Charlotte Observer and The Charlotte News. The contest winners in the various categories were invited to a banquet and I sat with some sports writers who worked for The Observer.

Partly to make conversation and partly, I guess, to ingratiate myself, I asked them why The Observer’s sports section was so much better than the sport section in the afternoon paper, The

Brodie S. Griffith, Editor, The Charlotte News
Brodie S. Griffith, Editor, The Charlotte News

News.

They laughed, pointed to an old man at the head table, and said, “Why don’t you go ask him that question.”

Newspaper people –I know them well, and like them — they can be such rats.

That old man turned out to be Brodie S. Griffith, the editor of the afternoon paper.  [He was only 61 years old then, a young fella I’d say now, but he seemed so old when I was 17.]  I had no idea who Mr. Griffith was, but I accepted what I took to be a challenge, approached him, and introduced myself.

Before I could ask my question, thank goodness, he offered me a summer job for $1 a hour, working in his paper’s sports department.

I didn’t know anything about newspapering, of course.  I couldn’t even type. But that was double the money my Dad paid me for working in his sweat shop so I accepted on the spot.

That’s how I went to work for a newspaper.  Except for the time I spent in the Navy and in school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, that’s all I did for the next 48 years.

Postscript:  A dollar an hour in 1960 won’t as bad as it sounds. That’s the equivalent to $8.35 in 2017, well above today’s federal minimum wage of $7.25 an hour.

Coming Friday: Man Overboard! Or Was He?