EMPEHI.blogspot.com: What Were You Doing 50 Years Ago?

What were you doing 50 years ago? Please Share Your Stories, Pictures are worth a 1,000 words. We will publish them on www.empehi.com

You can write them directly into this Google Document. Just click and write: HERE. You can accidentally delete the info on the Google Document, so keep a copy and email me after you make your entry.

Or you can email them to Craig Hullinger at morganparkhigh@gmail.com and I will post them here.

Craig 50 years ago I was waiting to be discharged from Guam air Base. I was rebuilding jet engines as a aviation machinist mate second class. I was sent there from Cam Rahn Bay Vietnam where I was support personnel for all of the aircraft the P3 Orion I flew in and I serviced them.

I went from Cameron Bay to the Philippines Cavite across the bay from Subic and then I was sent to Guam to finish out my last six months of service. I spent my last 6 months learning how to ride a unicycle and rebuilding jet engines not very glamorous but I did come back - a lot of my friends didn't.

Bob Glines MPHS Jan 66

P-3 Orion Aircraft

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lockheed_P-3_Orion

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50 years ago, I was in my second week of boot camp, Company 948, Great Lakes NTC. Graduated 12/18/70. Home for Christmas and New Years and then reported to OCS in Newport, RI on 1/4/71.

Jack Barber MPHS Jan 66

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I was going to graduate school in England & mailing letters & packages to my brother who was with Co D 3/187 Infantry in the 101st Airborne ... Firebase Rickshaw or Rakasan (sp?). I decided on MA degree v Navy Officer... females could only do a few things. (Went Army MP in 1975 instead.... many more opportunities for women as they were testing us before girls came out of ROTC in June 1976).

My dad was ecstatic in Dec of 1970 when my brother came home Dec 15th, my sister flew in from Boston the next day, and I flew from the UK the following day.

Carol Macola

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The true story about how a Mustang MPHS 66 kid became a Mustang Bucking Horse Rider in the Rodeo.

Well Craig, I will try to make this somewhat interesting.

I was named for the early cowboy movie star Tom Mix, so I guess that my fascination with all things Western comes almost as birthright. I grew up (at least far as I've ever grown up) being, in my mind a cowboy. My favorite Halloween costume was either a cowboy or a pirate. Now I know why Jimmy Buffett sings about both subjects.

Although a fairly quiet kid, I was always into something, mostly dangerous. The more dangerous, the more it reinforced my illusion of immortality. Nothing seemed able to kill me. And I certainly gave Death enough chances. Motorcycle and motor bike escapades, losing a couple of fingers camping, numerous swimming and diving stunts which may or may not have caused some injury unacknowledged. I found out a few years ago that my neck was broken at some point in my life but don't recall exactly which misadventure may have done it. All this before my 15th birthday.

I have always been around horses, although never owned any. Rode as a trail guide at stables, rode with friends, but always left the expensive part, ownership, to those wealthier than I. I had gone to Arizona to visit my Uncle and cousins around the summer of '67 and had come to be acquainted with a husband and wife team of rodeo producers with a ranch outside of Scottsdale. While there, I stopped by and asked Mel and Wendy Potter how I could become a rodeo cowboy. Their response was perfect. They were holding a rodeo school in Prairie Du Chien, WI that summer. For about $250 I could be taught by the best, current World's Champion All-Around Cowboy Larry Mahan. I immediately gave them a deposit.

About 6 weeks later, I was in the middle of Wisconsin learning to ride bareback bucking horses. After a few days of riding (and mostly not riding) some top-rated horses, was hooked.

We had one guy there from a school for handicapped kids ( I know, not PC today, but then it was accepted) who was deaf. He was a baker by trade so we nick named him The Baker. He was having an awful time staying on and we kinda tolerated him. Larry came up to me one afternoon and said that The Baker was probably going to get himself killed but he could see that I belonged there. Well, I have got to say, that was the high point of my life, and still ranks up there in the top 2 or 3. My head grew (as the Grinch's heart) several sizes that day. And has never returned to normal size since.

My first REAL rodeo was at the Chicago Amphitheater Stock Yards about a month later. WGN news had been informed, thanks to an ex-wife, that I was raised in Chicago, so I made it on the news at 9 with a local interest story about "the Chicago cowboy" competing in his first big rodeo. Every year after that, and I rode at the Stock Yards for another 4 years, I was profiled on the News at 9 and got to be popular with those women around the "Yards who were interested in "a cowboy". I used this bit of local celebrity to my GREAT advantage.

Being cowboy is a pretty awesome thing. Children want to be you, women want to be with you, men envy you but are too scared to be you, and it is as close as I will ever come to the kind of perks that are associated with sports stardom.

It truly was the most unbelievable way to be in your early 20's and be the focus of hundreds of people when competing. I always liked being the center of attention. Even though I was probably a mediocre competitor, I was a competitor nonetheless and every weekend put on those spurs, chaps, boots and jeans, screwed the Stetson on tight and slide down on that horse in the chute, ready to nod an okay to the crew to open the gate, I was often a little scared by the possible consequences, but courage isn't doing something and believing you are invincible, it is knowing you are not and doing it anyway. A few deep breathes, a feeling that, in spite of the peril, I would not want to be anywhere else at that moment, and a nod of the hat to "turn 'em loose" and I was in my zone and right where I had always wanted to be.

And the occasional picture in the Trib or in some lesser-known rag never hurt an already oversized ego.

Tom Schildhouse MPHS Jan 66

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Great story, Tom. I always wondered how a normal MPHS guy became a rodeo bronc rider. Now I know.

But actually Tom was never all that normal. In Mount Greenwood many of us had homemade motorbikes. They were unsafe at any speed. Tom managed to ride his through a car windshield, getting over one thousand stitches and over 80% facial reconstruction. And he wounded his hand with a hatchet in an accident.

So it is not that surprising that he became a bareback bucking horse rider. If you have ever watched it you will know that it is one of the roughest sports known.

Craig Hullinger MPHS 66

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My kid rodeo story - nothing as dramatic as yours.

My parents came from ranch country in western South Dakota. I was born and raised in the south - South Dakota and Sout Chicaga.

I loved going to the family ranch. Kid paradise - horses, hotrods, swimming and fishing dams.

Our uncles taught us to be tough and self reliant. One of the ways they did this was by setting up kid rodeos. The little kids were challenged to ride buck sheep - rams. They were woolly and not very high so that when you were bucked off you were not too hurt.

The challenge for the older kids - 7 or 8 - was to ride calves. A kid had no chance to stay on a calf - they bucked and spun furiously and you were bucked off after the first jump or two to a hard and painful landing.

My Dad and his cousin set me up to ride a calf. They put a surcingle around his waist - a rope to hold on to.

I was determined to stay on. I got a death grip on the surcingle. I also put both my feet inside the surcingle, ensuring that I could not get bucked off. Bad idea.

The first jump of the calf loosened the surcingle, and I rotated around to the bottom of the calf. My back and head were bumping and dragging through the manure of the barn, while my feet tangled in the surcingle ensured that I could not get free of the calf. The calf was stomping on me, and nervous, proceeded to urinate all over me. Manure on my back, urine soaked on the front, I was an unhappy camper. My Dad and cousin thought it was hilarious and great entertainment. Very funny now, not so then.

At one of the impromptu rodeos my Uncle Red asked my little brother Scott if he would like to ride a calf. My younger brother, smarter than me, told my uncle "I believe I would rather walk."

The ranch is western South Dakota

My cowboy Uncle Red Hullinger

redhullinger.blogspot.com

Craig Hullinger MPHS Jan 66
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Karen has a cousin whose kid does junior rodeo, goat roping, calf riding, etc. and I always have a good time watching them. Have not done this for a bit and, I am sure, the youngster is too old to be a "junior" anymore but it is fun to watch.

Tom Schildhouse
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For all you old cowpokes and cowgirls. A small town next to where I live, Paletine, IL, is starting their rodeo back up this summer near Labor Day. Come on down. They went to bull riding for the past two years and did not get the reviews they were hoping for.

Ron Veenstra
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Great idea. We could make it a mini reunion, with our own soutsidaChicaga bronc rider Tom Schildhouse MPHS Jan 66 making what would likely be his last ride. Possibly get national publicity as the only 65 year old Chicaga Cowboy willing and able to ride a bucking Mustang.

What do you say, Tom? You would add to your legend, and you are eligible for medicare so they can fix anything that breaks?

I would pay to come.

Tom Shildhouse MPHS Rodeo Cowboy

Went to rodeo school. Always been a dream of mine since early childhood. Never saw myself as popular or charismatic. Wanted to stand out and be something special. And in my mind, in those days, rodeo cowboys were special, still are.

Found a school in Prairie Du Chein, WI run by world champion cowboy Larry Mahan, paid my $200 bucks, got told by Larry after a few days, that I belonged here, the rest is history. When Larry told me that, my already inflated ego kinda made the decision for me. Never regretted my mis-spent youth or the occasional body ache that reminds me that I was, and still am, somebody special. Did things most folks are scared s***less to do and enjoyed it, survived it and was part of the sports community in a great way.

Interviewed by WGN tv and written about in a magazine called Fans, local sports rag. I also have a well-deserved sense of immortality, motor bike crashes, diving mishaps, and a few other malady's couldn't kill me so I figured I was pretty immortal. Don't know how true that is but I am sticking to that
approach to life, as it suits me perfectly.

Competed in the International Amphitheater Stockyards rodeo and several other big time events. Then I decided to do the Jimmy Buffett thing and go on to being the cowboy sailor. Now I sail, play tennis and wonder why the hell everyone else I know spends most of their time telling everybody else who will listen how sick, uncomfortable, in various forms and degrees of pain they are. As I said in the sail update, gosh I love my life.

I am looking forward now, finally getting PADI (scuba diving) certificate, which, although I have dived most of my life, never went through the process of certifying. Also, gonna do it a few years ago but the weather got crappy, next year I will learn to surf on Lake Michigan. My wife keeps trying to remind me of how old I am, I tell her that when I get, I will gladly pass from this mortal realm, but that won't ever happen 'cuz I ain't never
gettin' old.

And, if I am lucky, I ain't ever gettin' bored, either.

ROCK ON!!!

Tom SchildhouseMost definitely lots of interesting Stuff going on there

Tom Schildhouse

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What were you doing 50 years ago? Share Your Stories

I was on Hill 327, a lovely mountain with a great view of the South China Sea and the Pacific Ocean, Danang, Monkey Mountain, Hai Van Pass and the mountains to the north, and Happy Valley to the south.