Me and my Dad 1944

My Campbell Bus

Stanford University Fire Department


Strike Team

Greeting the kids

Owner operator Trucking

Wisconsin final inspection

San Jose Fire Museum

It was WW2 and my dad was serving in the navy when I entered life in Miami.  My parents had moved to Florida to escape the brutal winters in Ohio and Kentucky.   After the war my family followed my grandparents and aunt to San Jose.  They built a house on Juanita Way, in the San Tomas area.  The house, on a dead-end street with little traffic, was the best place in the world for a kid to grow up. 

My sister was born in 1950.  We’ve been good friends all our lives.  She lives in Napa with her husband

. Mom, Dad, Me and Sis.

I started school at Moreland even though San Tomas School was only a block away.  When the school boundaries changed I insisted on staying at Moreland.  My elementary school years were at Moreland, Bucknall and then Castro, where  I was a member of their first graduating class.

At Campbell High I really wasn’t into school, but, with the good guys I hung out with, it was a nice time nevertheless. I’m still in contact with my good friends - Mike Colby, Joe Cefalu, and Roger Drake.  

I remember walking into Mr. Tarr’s English class and, as usual, heading straight for a window seat.  Mr. Tarr explained the rules of the road to us, “No looking out the window.”  I thought, “What else is there to do in here?”  I did manage to get out of there alive so I guess it wasn’t too bad.

After high school I joined the San Tomas Volunteer Fire Station.  My dad had been a long time volunteer there and as a kid and for years had gone on calls with him. I’d even gotten to ride in the truck with him and hold the hose while he put out a fire behind the San Tomas Store.

Later, as an adult, I got the ok to drive the fire engine. When all of a sudden we received a call for a house fire around the corner from Moreland School A fellow firefighter and I rushed to the scene, the fire was pretty far along when we arrived, but we had it under control before others showed up.  It turned out the occupant of the house was Richard Duchey, one of my early classmates.  Small world.

A friend at the fire station turned me onto a job driving a school bus for Jefferson School District in Santa Clara.  My first real job at $2.35 an hour.

Two years later, even though I enjoyed the job and the people I worked with, I looked for a job closer to home. At the Campbell High bus yard I talked with the manager, Mr. Tusup, about my driving experience and my interest in  working at Campbell High.  He said, “How about now?”  A short time later he handed me a map of my new route and pointed to the remaining bus.  Away I went!

In 1965 I was drafted into the army along with some of my classmates.  We were stationed at Fort Ord for basic training before I got my orders for. Fort Wainwright, Alaska as a clerk typist.  (Thank you Campbell High for two years in typing class!). I worked in a warehouse that supplied parts for the motor pool. Right up my alley, except for the miserable cold.

After my discharge I returned to driving for Campbell High District then in 1968 I accepted a job offer from Stanford University Fire Department.  Interesting times, I started my 36 years there just in time for the Stanford riots.  I drove a fire truck with a deputy sheriff as co-pilot at nights.  I remember thinking, “I skated out of Viet Nam alive but may get bumped off in the middle of the school riots.” 

In 1972 I had the bright idea to try owner-operator trucking.   I did that for way too many years before I wised up and got rid of the business.  

When my fire contract with the fire department ended I received a good retirement and the time to do a variety of interesting things.

Stanford rehired me to help in the purchase of new equipment and help with the restoration of older rigs.  

A few years back I restored the 1957 Chevy truck I had purchased in 1964.

I got involved in fire equipment specs and design of new equipment.  I helped restore some old rigs. These days I still volunteer weekly at the San Jose Fire Museum helping restore old rigs. 

I enjoy going to swap meets to see what I can find.  So far life is still good even though many of my co-workers and friends are going away a lot faster than I like.  

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