Later Days on Guam

Along about 1975, politics got in the way of my government position and I had to decide to either pack up and go home or do something else on Guam. The latter won out because by now we had becomes so well established and the island was growing, so I hired on as Director of Advertising for an island conglomerate which included hotels, auto agencies, supermarkets, department stores, and resorts. I wrote the copy for print and electronic ads, becoming particularly involved with the food side of things. DA would slip me a recipe and I’d bring it to life on TV. I personally did the radio spots and appeared as spokesperson for the organization at civic events. It was a fun time that lasted until the late ‘80s.

After high school, our boys wanted to try the states again and they ended up in Montana, both going to Montana State where Mark became interested in engineering while Dan decided on geology. Tragically, Mark was killed in a highway accident in Montana. We were devastated, so far away, and it was a heart-rending trip as we strove to get there as quickly as possible. Mark had just finished school and was ready to join an engineering firm. By the time we arrived, Dan had taken care of everything allowing us time to grieve. Mark is buried on a knoll overlooking the valley and in full view of the mountains he had learned to love. We will miss him for all time and are thankful that Dan is still with us. He is president of Earthtalk Studios in Bozeman, Montana, creators of custom websites, CD-ROMs, and original film, video, and digital imagery for commercial and educational purposes. We talk almost every day and get together frequently.

Getting back to Guam after the funeral was the best thing for us because we got caught up in our work and the sun shone brightly every day. No periods of dreary days as we had often known back in Pennsylvania, which would have been terribly depressing. As it was, our friends had us out on the golf course or on the tennis court whenever possible, helping us recover from our loss.

We played tennis most Sundays, starting fairly early in the morning and not giving in until about lunch time. By then, the 85 degree heat and the 85 % humidity would have drained us of fluids demanding immediate hydration, with water, of course. Tennis kept us in pretty good shape all our years on the island, and must have contributed to the fact that we’re still feeling good.

A new housing development called Perez Acres caught our attention because of its uniqueness and the fact that it was introduced by Raquel Welch’s husband. It was styled after a similar project in California sporting duplex housing with attractive walkways, lighting, a pool, and a nice secluded feeling. We enjoyed living there for several years and it worked out beautifully when DA’s mother came to live with us.

As time went on, however, we couldn’t pass up an opportunity to purchase the top floor of a two-story hotel building consisting of five rooms and a balcony across the front. After knocking out the walls between four of the rooms and including the balcony footage as part of a new creation, we ended up with a delightful home that had everything we needed, and one that garnered rave reviews. We sold the one room on the end as a small apartment and saved a small balcony off the living room. DA was in charge of the design and she did such a magnificent job, an architect ended up buying it when we left. It had windows across the front with a view of Government House and the Philippine Sea, and was an ideal situation. We threw great parties and DA had her Bridge tables there on many occasions Would-be buyers from Japan fell in love with the design and would have bought it in a minute until they learned that it was built on leased land. They wanted a fee-simple arrangement which wasn’t possible. We loved living there.

Because Guam was becoming more popular as a tourist destination, more hotels were being built by Japanese firms. DA, as the representative of Thai Airways, would get invited to the ground-breaking, the topping-off, the soft-opening, and the grand-opening, and we would go as a couple, or I would be invited as a business representative to the same affairs, so we were going all the time. I was becoming well known because of my TV appearances, so everywhere we went, we fit right in. We even emceed beauty contests and, for variety, chili cook-offs. Life was never dull.

It was in 1978 when, on one of our many trips to the states, we were with friends at the Marine Commandant’s quarters for the thrilling sunset-drill ceremony. I was ready to sign up again I was so impressed with the Silent Drill Platoon, the Drum and Bugle Corps, and the precision of all the participants, but decided they were better off with younger people. Instead, we went out on the town for an evening’s enjoyment, and at some point, I experienced a sharp pain in my groin that caused me some concern. After consulting two doctors in subsequent days and being told I should be in a hospital, we flew to Hawaii and I saw the third physician who reiterated what the others had said and I entered Queen’s Hospital. Testicular cancer was the diagnosis, the malignant member was removed along with lymph nodes, and I was sent on my way just short of eunuchdom. Doctors were amazed that this young man’s problem happened to a guy my age, but it did and I came through OK. My everlasting thanks to the oncologist’s chemo-confection and to the surgeons’ steady hands for their superb work.

Chemotherapy injections made me feel as though I had just been on the losing end of a brawl, so DA came up with a spinach-potato soup that was, and still is, out of this world. It always brought me back to life and was so simple to prepare, even I could do it. All it takes is instant potatoes, chopped spinach, chicken broth, cream, a little salt and pepper, plus a bit of heat, and you’ve got yourself a winner. You don’t have to wait until you’re not feeling well to try it. It’s good anytime.

When we arrived on Guam in 1968, the military was the biggest thing on the island. Andersen Air Force Base was sending daily bombing missions over Vietnam, and ships were bringing in ordnance, so the main drag, Marine Drive, was the route of flatbeds laden with bombs heading toward Andersen, and the sky was the scene of B-51s destined to deliver those bombs to the war zone. Because the planes departed in flights of three, we were happy when all three returned, and saddened when only two, or one, came back.

Nuclear subs were berthed there; the Naval Air Station was active with fighter jets on training flights; and the Marine contingent made its presence known with sunset-drill ceremonies for the public to enjoy. After Vietnam, the decline of the military on Guam was all too evident, but once again, as I write this in 2008, Guam is being prepared as a “rapid-response-platform to handle Pacific-Rim problems with thousands of Marines, Trident submarines, a ballistic-missile task force, Navy Special Operations forces, Air Force F-22 fighter jets, nuclear-powered attack submarines, and B-2 Stealth bombers. The locals are happy with the promised economic boost but concerned with the scheduled addition of about 40,000 people.

Typhoons often make passes at Guam and occasionally pay the island a visit, One  such visit called Pamela hit Guam in 1976 and it was a dandy. Wind gusts of 200mph were clocked and that slow-moving storm wreaked havoc. We were in a concrete structure then, but the rain, hitting the front door horizontally, was forced in around the top, bottom, and sides, so forcefully, we took turns leaning against the door to prevent it being blown inward. What we saw the next day in the way of damages shocked us, but it really didn’t hit home until we discovered that there was no water, there was no power and therefore no light or air conditioning, and the likelihood of the return of all that was anybody’s guess. Freezers in the homes were filled with all kinds of goodies which had to be eaten quickly before decomposition set in, so everyone’s “barbie” got a workout, unless it was gas-operated. Our neighbor had a ranch out in the “boonies” complete with a gravity-flow water tank, so we were invited to hose each other off several times during the drought, and that was a blessing. Water from the swimming pool kept the toilets flushed. We’ll always remember Typhoon Pamela.