The Three Jerrys
So yeah, my nickname for many years was Jerry. My Dad picked up the sobriquet in the service in WWII. The boys in the service had a problem with a man’s name ending in a vowel. When we were stationed in Ann Arbor in 1945 at the Navy Language School where Dad was learning Japanese, Mom came home from shopping to find some of the kids on base trying to hang me with a coat hanger as a suspected Nazi spy. Weird name… too much for them.
Anyway, I used Jerry until I got out of college in 1965 and joined the Airplane. So… I am an honorary ‘Jerry.’ On the left, my dear friend Jerry S. Attached to David Hackworth’s unit, this Jerry is one heck of a guy! Read, Steel The Hearts Of My Men. This is the shit!
In the middle is Jerry B., my motorcycle pal and brother in recovery. We’ll be heading out to Akron for the 79th Founders Day the first weekend in June… and the last Jerry, yours truly… right on schedule and right where I need to be in Southeast Ohio.
Twilight at Hillside Farm tonight
Now, I just need to say… I do understand why people get excited about tangible memories like 2400 Fulton Street. It was fun while it lasted and I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything… the good and the bad. Believe me, there were both… just like real life.
Now, when I’m done traveling around, I come home to this tiny county and it embraces me in a profound way that no other place I have ever lived has done. Of course, I have lived here for 23 years… longer than I’ve lived anywhere continuously.
Well, the dog got out… rolled in deer poop and wouldn’t come back until he was exhausted and filthy. Back in the house, Nessa washed him, he’s resting… Izze’s reading the first book of Divergent, I don’t know what Nessa is doing right now, but I’m going to watch NCIS.
Life is good friends… life is good!
What a wonderful Thanksgiving with the extended Kaukonen family and my mother. Fine food and finer friends. Working on our third decade as pals and family. Not sure how it passed so quickly, ’cause I’m still a kid!! Thanks Jorm, it’s all been a pleasure. Looking fwd to The Beacon show and a bite of The Big Apple. TRAVEL SAFELY!! JER
Wish I could find that old FarSide cartoon of Rex the mutt sniffin’ around Gertrude the bitch’s door sayin,”Don’t know watcha been rollin’ in Gertrude, but you sure do stink pretty.”
It’s a dog thang . . .
mutt
I just might have to lose some weight so I could fit into that jacket. Pretty snazzy jacket and obviously high quality to have lasted so well. Like its owner. Jorma with regards to 2400 let me say I’m known to be slow on the uptake sometimes. I should realize that all of that is bitter-sweet and I’m truly sorry for anytime my comments may have given a moment of that feeling. You are truly a patient man.
Hi Chuck…
I guess I’m not expressing myself clearly. Many of my memories are just part of my story, such as it is. There is nothing either bitter or sweet here for me. it just is. I do not choose to live in the past or to look longingly at it. I enjoy discoursing about life in general… obviously. I live in the present and try to make plans for the future. I’ll let you know how that works out. That said, I enjoy the comments, by the bye.
Be well…
jorma
I remember you as Jerry from the American School in Manila in the late Fifties. A few years later I lived in the Bay Area and often wondered if Jorma Kaukonen might be the same guy. Naah, I thought. I don’t remember Jerry being able to play the guitar ! Oops, guess I was wrong.
Everything in perspective JK. From 2400 to current day, all part of the stew of life.
taint nothing like a good ole roll in the deer poop.
I hope that wasn’t Maverick, the Dog Of Destiny, rolling in deer poop, belying his poodle lineage!
It was… indeed, Maverick, Dog Of Destiny. Even poodles can be quirky…
Jorma
It’s great to see Jorma with that great big smile. Kicking back and surrounded by love in the peaceful countryside. It doesn’t get any better.
Dear “Jerry”, aka Jorma,
Just visited your old haunt of 2400 Fulton Street… looks good. I liked it when It was painted Black and Gold!
Stay well,
Cyndy
JER’THE YOUNGER suggested in an email to me today that maybe I should consider using JER’THE MIDDLER…..I like it!….so henceforth, that’s what it shall be!
Back at ya’ JER’ THE YOUNGER…It was great to break fast with you and JER’ THE ELDER! We make a heck of a bunch of JERRYS, the American variety of course. We’ll have to do this again soon my friends……JER’ THE IN BETWEEN.
WHAT A TREAT TO BE PALS WITH THESE TWO GREAT AMERICAN JERRYS!!! DON’T GET NO BETTER
@bruce
JERTHEYOUNGER was one of HACKS recondos, 4-39 Infantry, 9th ID… 68-69. became friends after the war, presented the flag to MRS HACKWORTH at Arlington. Glad you remember him. best…. SULLY
Yeah, there’s nothing like washing poop off the dog.
Really keeps ya grounded, so to speak.
I’m packing up to go up to the country house right now and I’m happy as a pig in poop. Just like the song ‘Goin up to the Country’. I can’t wait.
Was Jerry a Wolfhound Raider?….Hackworth was a trip…exchanged e-mails with him a few times…
You’re right on about country life, Jorma. I live in a small Iowa town of only 8,000 souls. It takes me just 10 minutes to walk out of town. I can walk alone at 3 in the morning with no fear. My grocer is across the street from my apartment. My workplace is three blocks from my home. I love it here though I would still like to get out more. I’ve been to the Bay several times and still seek to go there again. Still, I’d never want to live there. Three weeks in San Francisco would turn me into an ax murderer,,or worse.
your dog does that too?
Jorma,
Rest up my friend. The music is sweeter than ever, you’ve done well. Enjoy your friends and family! See you on the road soon.