My story about Captain Kelley reminded me of another captain I knew in the Air Force. This was Captain Morris and he and his wife, Bridgettredheadandbigboobs, or as we called her, Mrs. Morris, were friends with both of my parents. The same setup as with the Kelley’s but this was pre-Germany, Fairfield, California, all of us stationed at Travis. Military life has such different words for ordinary life. We were stationed at Travis, we didn’t live there, we were stationed there. We had a port of call for Germany in June of ’69, we weren’t leaving, flying to Germany, we had a port of call. We always had to show our ID when we were on base, “Show us your papers!” We went to the commissary, not the market, the BX, not Wonderworld (Wal-Mart today). I used to think it was the PX but I guess the BX makes more sense, if you have a military slanted mind, the base exchange. The Morris’ had 3 boys, Roy Dean, my age, Danny, 2 years younger and Michael, who knows how old he was