Vietnam

I left Vancouver (the Canadian city) and returned to my little city of Windsor at began going to Henry Ford Community College as this was Ford territory as well as GM and Chrysler.

This was the beginning for Vietnam and America and when you were over than 18 you were probably going to Vietnam. It didn't bother me because I was Canadian but I had a lot of American friends. This was also the beginning of battling with having to go and those who ran to Canada and stay there. Some went to jail.

Ironically I met a psych tech finishing her classes and was about three years older than me. We continued meeting in Detroit often and continued until.  And I still do. I have a street she might have lived on but that was gone.

But there was a war going on two fronts, Vietnam and also the anti-war movement which included both men and women and a few crazy groups. I decided to see what the battles were on both the U.S. and far away in another country which I wondered about. There was also that home front battle grounds. To me it was Detroit. I didn't know what I would do really, but wanted to be part of it.

Ironically I ended up in Indianapolis on a bus packed with hundreds of us going to work for Bobby Kennedy. I had never been to "Indiana" but was there in midnight in the bad part of town with a hundred or so of us looking for cheap hotels paid by Kennedy. I ended up the next days going to the black areas and I wondered how I would make it through. But I found the homes and families very happy to see me, they loved Bobby.

It was scary for sure, but being a Canadian boy in a dark city, it was a great time. But the best time was to be when Bobby came to town and I saw him in a car waving and smiling. I didn't know that a few months more he would be dead. I stayed more around Detroit now, closer to home and the bridge over two different cities. I would see my psych now and then as she was working in a hospital.

I found myself spending more time in the city and less in Canada. I had a dozen or so cousins as well who lived in Detroit, which made it much easier. But school became a problem, I wanted to do more of all the things going on in the big city and got into some radical group of which I realized I was not really hanging with these, they were far to dangerous for me. I also needed a job and had to go back to Windsor, the little city across the river.

But now in my 20's, I was thinking about a job, something that I could enjoy, even if my dad said that jobs aren't enjoyable. He worked as a garage mechanic, and a good one. But I was not sure about that. Windsor was a factory city, part of the massive Detroit city. Almost all of my friends worked in the big companies.

I went to a job office and looked at a few jobs until I noticed that there was an opening for the local TV station. As you know, I loved TV and always had dreams about it. Now was the chance. I went to the TV station that afternoon and had an interview. I had to promise to stay here forever of course, but I figured nobody would want someone who had a stammer. Nobody hires those people.

But magic did happen. They hired me. I was an office "boy" going from office to office and errands. For me, it was magic. I remember now how I entered the station and walk through the studios. It was empty and dark and the cameras seemed to hang their heads down like dinosaurs.

It was the movies! And I was in it. Sort off.

I lasted for 6 months until someone else left the station and left an opening. I was going to cut TV commercials. I was going to cut commercials to insert into the broadcasts. Remember this is very basic, 1966. I figured it out and kept cutting. I soon found that I would probably stay at that job until someone else dies.

Our radio station was also within the TV station and was actually a big-time radio station owned by Americans. And not too long, someone had left and there was an opening. Our radio station was the biggest around. "The Big 8" . And I applied.

But it wasn't exactly what I wanted. I was editing audios for the DJ's. (Disc Jockey). However it wasn't what I thought, it was fast, hard work and I really didn't belong. So I could go back to cutting commercials. Or I could be let go. We actually owned a major trio of radio stations that were huge.
And I wasn't particularly good at it.

So now what? Do I go back to cutting commercials?

Or do I just go?

Will I go back to writing articles against the war against Vietnam? I did some good writing for Vets For Peace.