Checkpoints Class News
Class of 1960

SPRING 1989
Andi Biancur
2 Sycamore Lane
Littleton, CO 80127
Home: (303) 979-2228

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Do you remember what you were doing 30 years ago today? Take just a moment and think back to that time--when life was simple and the only words we knew were "Yes Sir," "No Sir," and "No Excuse Sir." We were all looking forward to expediting the '59ers departure and going about running the Wing the way it should be run. Now that I presumably have your thoughts conditioned, I'll attempt to summarize the responses to our 30-year reunion survey. We sent out some 193 forms to which 81 of you responded. Of those, 78 opted to hold a reunion while three said: "Hell no!" I read that to mean that we proceed with a plan to hold a reunion. Twenty-six of you wanted to have a Spring Fling while 49 would rather brave the autumn chill. Only six respondents would not bring a spouse/guest. I won't bore you with the entire activity breakdown, but expect to see some 149 folks in the Colorado Springs area on a weekend to be deter­mined in the autumn of 1990. We will have some scheduled activities but, for the most part, plenty of unstructured time to renew old memories and retell old war stories. More information will be forthcoming, and if you have any further comments please let me know.

I received a very newsy letter from Frank MAYBERRY who detailed his and Eve's current life style in the outback of Australia. It seems his employer, TRW, had need of his talents in Woomera, where he has changed the sign on his office door from "Out To Lunch" to "Gone Walk­about." It sounds like Frank and Eve are right in the middle of a real adventure; too lengthy to fully account. Let me give you a taste by quoting a portion of Frank's letter:

"One day I was in Andamooka, an opal mining town. It's like a place out of the old West. The main street is a dry river bed. The miners work half the day and drink all night. If you ever go to Andamooka, don't go before 11 in the morning; you won't see anyone. The streets are deserted until lunchtime approaches. Then you see the red-eyed revelers trekking their way to the local watering holes. By noon, the beer drinking will be in full swing. One of the locals, the Opal Hotel, commonly referred to as the pub, puts on a video around 12:30 p.m. and packs them in. The other place is the Tuckabox. There is no menu; so, I asked the waitress, an Amazon of a gal, what there was. She told me I'd have the Tuckabox Sandwich. It was only $3.00. I received a small plate with a huge T-bone steak hanging across it, with a large meat patty, heavily laced with garlic and topped with onion and sliced beet, perched atop the steak. The waitress handed me a sharp knife. I asked her for a fork, and she replied: 'This is the outback. Use your fingers.'"

Have you got the picture? Frank ended his letter with an open invitation to visit him and Eve in their two-bedroom flat at 284 Gooyong Street. When you get to Woomera, call (086) 737327, home, or (086) 739291, work, for directions. Woomera boasts about 1,200 population; so, maybe you won't need directions.

We have a new record for the Class of '60 Goneness Book of World Records. In the category of personal achievement, one of our class has established the record for getting high to get married. The delay in report­ing was as a result of the validation process which called for some manner of visual proof. On 8 May 1988, Rich CARTER wed Kathryn in a Con­tinental B727 in flight somewhere over Denver. They took 140 of their friends to the airport in double-decker buses, boarded the B727, and got a flying start at wedded bliss. Now does that really count as a marriage made in heaven? I know--corny. I can hear the groans from here.

Kathryn and Rich Carter in flight before "the Preacher"

Rich mentioned that he and Rosie CLER have exchanged professional services over the past few years. Rosie has developed some business plans for Rich, who has lectured one of Rosie's classes on business financing. It's good to hear that you are out there Rosie. How about an update on some of your activities?

Bill and Judie ZERSEN sent an update on their experiences thus far. Bill mentioned that he was the first grad to SIE from pilot training and return to the navigator calling. As a C-130 Magellan, he flew ski-equipped Herk D-models wherever they could find snow and A-models as SAR for the first few Mercury launches, which helped him discover the wonders of Mauritius (off the East coast of Africa). His trips there took him to Nairobi, Jo-berg, and Wheelus AB, where the club still served camel burgers--an item I remember all too well. He met Judie, an Alaska Airlines stewardess, in Anchorage in 1965 while dancing on a piano in a bar; is that correct Bill? After CCK and the war bit, it was Charleston AFB and C-141s. Directed to attend the University of Central Florida, Bill conned them into conferring an MBA of R&D Management on him. That degree led to the space business and a flow of assignments which took the Zersens ultimately to Southern California and their present home in San Pedro. Like several of us, Bill made the move to retirement at 26 years and found work with United Technologies. As these corpora­tions are wont to do, they had Bill commuting between Huntsville, AL and San Pedro. In October 1988, after a year and a half of that tedium, Bill opted for full-time status as a San Pedroan (Pedroite?) and is now reacquainting himself with the never-ending "honey do" list. Bill and Judie's two oldest children, Todd and Bridgetta, are at Cal State Long Beach while their youngest, Aaron, is in 9th grade allowing the thoughts of golf and fishing to gain importance in future planning.

The change-of-address cards this time show Neil DELISANTI going from Olympia to Tacoma, a trek of some 28 miles. D Q MAYO, on the other hand, split the L.A. scene for the more pleasurable climes of Phoenix, AZ, a jaunt of some 400 miles.

A final comment for this issue: If you haven't been to the Air Force Museum in some time and get the chance, don't miss it. It has been ex­panded and many of the displays improved. It is a sobering thought to walk through the museum and realize that more of the aircraft you flew are on the inside than the outside.