The More I Blog, The More I Learn
I started out with the idea of using this as a forum for the Cartter Family, but it seems I needed an outlet for myself. So – please note the open thread discussion that I will try to keep at the top of the page each day, where you, the visitor, can record your thoughts, ask a question, start a conversation… please, keep it civil, and I will edit and/or remove entries that I deem offensive. By offensive, I mean anything I would be ashamed for my mother to read. I know, your mother probably taught you some really good words, and how to use them; I myself used to make sailors blush with my level of worldly language. I have since matured, and grown in Christ, and seen the error of my ways. I hope you have too.
Anyway – these daily entries will continue to be my mind’s overflow.
My father (David Kellogg, son of Bruce Lanpher and Elizabeth [Fitch] Cartter) passed away September 3, 1992, on his and my mother’s (Done Rae [Couch]) 42nd wedding anniversary. He was 64 years old. Over the following year, I was mentally lost – I had lost an anchor of my life. Dad and I weren’t as close as some father/son relationships are, but still – I started missing him more and more. Then, I realized that I was at my halfway point in life – in my state of mind, I thought that since Dad passed away at 64, and I was now rapidly approaching 32, I was halfway finished. And I started thinking about what I hadn’t done in my life. I hadn’t made my mark in the world. I hadn’t accomplished anything of importance. I had graduated from high school, but hadn’t even attempted to go to college. In high school, I worked for GT Wolfe Awning and Tent, a small provider of tents and other canvas materials in Greenville, Ohio. I remember the owner’s name was Pete – he was married to the daughter of the founder, and they had inherited the business when her father had passed on.
(will I have anything to pass on when I leave?)
After high school, I enlisted in the Marine Corps. Served honorably (3/5, 1st Marine Division, Camp Pendleton), nothing extraordinary (I lost many friends, buddies, guys I went through boot camp with, in Beirut, on Granada, and one guy I served with who was going to serve in all five branches was killed in Mogadishu) and I was discharged before Gulf War I. Wandered up to Oregon, tried to start a business or two, failed, wandered back down to Arizona. Bounced around a bit, worked in an auto parts store, owned a quarter mile stock car (driven by Rob Olivier, a buddy of my younger brother’s).
Drove a truck cross country for a few different companies, even tried to be an owner/operator for a while. Ended up working at a truck stop (met my first wife there one winter) for a while, then drove the fuel tanker for the same truck stop. That ended when a tourist in a motor home on the road to Vegas pulled over to let me pass, and pulled back out in front of me when I started to go around. I slammed the brakes, gave him a love tap, and managed to jackknife the (empty, thank you God) trailer around so hard the landing gear punctured the fuel tank on the tractor. The rig bounced off of two guard rails, one on each side of the road, the right side guarding a drop of fifteen feet or so, the left side guarding a drop of seventy-five plus feet down a rock-strewn vista towards the Colorado River… the tourist was not injured, so naturally he was indignant that I was allowed to endanger people on the road. Who was it pulled back onto the road after motioning me around? End of trusting other drivers on the road…
Went back to driving cross country, then settled into driving for a cabinet shop in Paso Robles, California. Actually, the shop was small enough that everyone who worked there did a little bit of everything. That re-awakened my love for wood working. It would also lead to a back injury that ended my time in the working world for several years. In the process of learning a new trade, I got hooked on computers just as Windows was being forced on the free world. I ended up back in Phoenix again a couple years after Dad died, and started working at a small, private college. Worked my way up from computer lab assistant to Registrar – then shifted gears again and held the administrator position for the music department at a mega church. When the director who hired me was let go, and the new director through I would make a dandy personal assistant, the resultant clash of personalities led to me being let go – with a six month severance package. Not bad for only being there for eighteen months.
I worked for a bit in an insurance office, and ended up back at the college. When the registrar that I was covering for came back from maternity leave, God opened up another door – the opportunity to get back into cabinets at a large semi-custom shop. Just before I left the college, I divorced my first wife. I was at the Big Shop for a while, married my second (and last) wife, left the Big Shop when work was cut back, worked in commercial millwork for a while, and was lured back to the Big Shop when a new owner took over. And here I sit.
Still haven’t accomplished anything to be considered a “mark” in the world. I’m sorry, Dad – I feel like I have somehow let you down. I’ll keep trying, though – you taught me to never give up.
Anyway – these daily entries will continue to be my mind’s overflow.
My father (David Kellogg, son of Bruce Lanpher and Elizabeth [Fitch] Cartter) passed away September 3, 1992, on his and my mother’s (Done Rae [Couch]) 42nd wedding anniversary. He was 64 years old. Over the following year, I was mentally lost – I had lost an anchor of my life. Dad and I weren’t as close as some father/son relationships are, but still – I started missing him more and more. Then, I realized that I was at my halfway point in life – in my state of mind, I thought that since Dad passed away at 64, and I was now rapidly approaching 32, I was halfway finished. And I started thinking about what I hadn’t done in my life. I hadn’t made my mark in the world. I hadn’t accomplished anything of importance. I had graduated from high school, but hadn’t even attempted to go to college. In high school, I worked for GT Wolfe Awning and Tent, a small provider of tents and other canvas materials in Greenville, Ohio. I remember the owner’s name was Pete – he was married to the daughter of the founder, and they had inherited the business when her father had passed on.
(will I have anything to pass on when I leave?)
After high school, I enlisted in the Marine Corps. Served honorably (3/5, 1st Marine Division, Camp Pendleton), nothing extraordinary (I lost many friends, buddies, guys I went through boot camp with, in Beirut, on Granada, and one guy I served with who was going to serve in all five branches was killed in Mogadishu) and I was discharged before Gulf War I. Wandered up to Oregon, tried to start a business or two, failed, wandered back down to Arizona. Bounced around a bit, worked in an auto parts store, owned a quarter mile stock car (driven by Rob Olivier, a buddy of my younger brother’s).
Drove a truck cross country for a few different companies, even tried to be an owner/operator for a while. Ended up working at a truck stop (met my first wife there one winter) for a while, then drove the fuel tanker for the same truck stop. That ended when a tourist in a motor home on the road to Vegas pulled over to let me pass, and pulled back out in front of me when I started to go around. I slammed the brakes, gave him a love tap, and managed to jackknife the (empty, thank you God) trailer around so hard the landing gear punctured the fuel tank on the tractor. The rig bounced off of two guard rails, one on each side of the road, the right side guarding a drop of fifteen feet or so, the left side guarding a drop of seventy-five plus feet down a rock-strewn vista towards the Colorado River… the tourist was not injured, so naturally he was indignant that I was allowed to endanger people on the road. Who was it pulled back onto the road after motioning me around? End of trusting other drivers on the road…
Went back to driving cross country, then settled into driving for a cabinet shop in Paso Robles, California. Actually, the shop was small enough that everyone who worked there did a little bit of everything. That re-awakened my love for wood working. It would also lead to a back injury that ended my time in the working world for several years. In the process of learning a new trade, I got hooked on computers just as Windows was being forced on the free world. I ended up back in Phoenix again a couple years after Dad died, and started working at a small, private college. Worked my way up from computer lab assistant to Registrar – then shifted gears again and held the administrator position for the music department at a mega church. When the director who hired me was let go, and the new director through I would make a dandy personal assistant, the resultant clash of personalities led to me being let go – with a six month severance package. Not bad for only being there for eighteen months.
I worked for a bit in an insurance office, and ended up back at the college. When the registrar that I was covering for came back from maternity leave, God opened up another door – the opportunity to get back into cabinets at a large semi-custom shop. Just before I left the college, I divorced my first wife. I was at the Big Shop for a while, married my second (and last) wife, left the Big Shop when work was cut back, worked in commercial millwork for a while, and was lured back to the Big Shop when a new owner took over. And here I sit.
Still haven’t accomplished anything to be considered a “mark” in the world. I’m sorry, Dad – I feel like I have somehow let you down. I’ll keep trying, though – you taught me to never give up.
posted by cary | 09:42
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