Archives for April 2015

Our program’s second dog is Bella, a three year old yellow lab mix. Bella was living her life chained to a dog house outside. Her owner loved her but wanted to give her a better life with more attention than he could provide.

After we found out about Bella, we contacted the owner and he was delighted to have us meet her. When we arrived at the house, he took us out back. We knew instantly she was made for this program. She immediately sat, leaned and snuggled herself calmly against us.

She loves kids, other dogs, and every person she meets. She enjoys car rides and long walks but especially loves giving lots of attention and comfort. Bella is currently in training as an Emotional Support Dog with mild assistance skills. She is scheduled to graduate from the program in September, 2015.

U.S. Air Force, 1971-1977
Air National Guard, 1977-1981

by Paula Burr

Cynthia Brown joined the Air Force for a combination of reasons. She wanted to find out who she was − she had some identity issues and thought the military might help find her out the answers.

In high school, one hears rumors about women in the military and that peaked her interest. Her choice for the military was between the Navy and the Air Force. The Army was out of the question, because according to her the Army did not treat women well. After careful consideration Cynthia went in the Air Force.

“My poor mother didn’t even know until I graduated from high school that I had been accepted into the service,” she said.

Her mother found out when the recruiter showed up at Cynthia’s graduation. Her mother’s response was shock. She had wanted Cynthia to go to college, but she really didn’t fight it too much. Both Cynthia’s father and her mother’s current husband had been in the military. Her mom knew there was a sense of security. However, she did cry for the first two years Cynthia was gone.

Since Cynthia was nine she had been travelling on her own, first on a Greyhound bus, and then on an airplane to go visit her grandmother. She was looking forward to being on her own.

In 1971, at the age of eighteen, she went to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas, for boot camp. Cynthia laughingly says, “Boot camp in itself was quite the experience. If you can get through that, you can get through anything.”

She was determined to succeed. It was nerve wracking, but overall, a good experience. Cynthia and her friend had enlisted together and were supposed to be on the buddy system; however, this did not transpire. They would see each other as the squadrons would pass each other.

In boot camp she witnessed a lot of crying. Some girls had never been away from home and wanted out, but Cynthia said she never wanted out. In fact, she recalls some interesting times when she and her roommate would get in trouble for stashing extra stuff in the “snake pit” or for sleeping on top of their covers. Every morning when you got, you had to have your room as well as yourself in inspection order in half an hour.

“You would learn how to cheat a little bit and just hope you didn’t get caught,” she said.

Someone was always on duty throughout the night to watch the barracks and make sure everyone was sleeping. Cynthia looks back on her escapades as “just the fun trouble.”

After boot camp, Cynthia was one of only five women out of 100 to go to Air Traffic Controller Training at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. She had not requested Air Traffic Controller Training and asked how she ended up in it. They told her she was highly qualified due to her test scores during basic training. She really did not want to do this, so she chose to phase out on purpose.

“Good Lord, I can’t believe I am saying this,” she says today, “but I was only eighteen. That was years ago.”

During this time she was a leader, marching the troops to class each day. The Air Force called it “Ropes” because of the green, yellow, or red cords they wore on their shoulders. She never made it to the red rope, which was the highest. She went through three blocks of training before they let her transfer.

She chose to go into Administration and was transferred to Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery, Alabama. According to Cynthia, this is where she really began to suffer. She hated every waking moment of it.

“Alabama and being black, can you figure out the rest?” she asked.

She found herself stationed in a city where the ink was barely dry on Civil Rights legislation. Prejudice was rampant. Everyone she hung out with at the time was Caucasian, and she feels it was the only reason she was ever served at restaurants, regardless of the Civil Rights Law having been past. To experience the hate and racism continuously was very stressful.

Cynthia equates her experience during this time as torture. She truly began hating her place in life and questioning her identity.

During this time she began questioning her sexual identity. She started to realize that she was not a straight woman, but still continued to hide this part of herself from people. Her focus on something other than being in such a hateful place as Alabama was her key to survival.

Cynthia began to realize how serious her sexual orientation issues were.

“If you can understand how you are hiding something and you want it to come out,” she said, “but only to the right people − and I didn’t know who the right people were. I just had to live on what I heard around.”

She remembers walking with a group of people and having them point out a barracks that was “full of nothing but those lesbians.” She was very thankful she didn’t live in that barracks, because she did not want to be associated with being a lesbian. She hid this part of her life for many years. She guessed that she wasn’t ready to come out. She started to cope with her fear of being in Alabama where George Wallace preached segregation now, segregation forever, by focusing on her personal life.

Cynthia dated a gentleman who she said had connections. Cynthia was very confused at the time. She had her military identity where she had to be tiptop and spit shined and polished up all the time. She had one identity where she wanted to be with women and then her other identity where she had to be pretend to be straight. This was the beginning of her crazy life in the military because she felt that she had to be three or four people just to get through the day. She worked in the ROTC Headquarters while at Maxwell Air Force Base and truly enjoyed working with the high schools in the area. Her 15 months in Alabama was a very trying time for her, overall.

Cynthia put in for an overseas tour, hoping to escape and get out of the country. She felt that she had to leave in order to find out who she truly was. She put in for various overseas bases, hoping to get sent to the Philippines. Unfortunately, her orders were red-lined.

In 1973, she was transferred to Elmendorf Air Force Base in Alaska. There she really discovered who she was as a person. This, however, was a scary time in the military. She did not want to be kicked out of the service; she wanted to be a topnotch Airman, but she also wanted to be true to herself. She worried how her family would feel if she was discharged because she was gay. This was an era where people were being sent to shrinks and being disowned, kicked out their homes, and she just didn’t want to be like that. She just wanted to stay in the closet.

It was not uncommon for “Witch hunts” during this time. If you were suspected of being gay, then you and those you hung around with were under close scrutiny. It was an unjust time of persecution for all people accused. Cynthia, like so many other gay military people, chose to protect her career and keep the pressure and suspicion off by marrying Sam, a gay man, in the military. Their agreement was to stay married as long as they were in the military. They still went to their jobs on base and lived off base, which allowed for some freedom. They would hold true to their agreement and dissolved the marriage after Sam’s enlistment was over.

In 1977, Cynthia got out of the Air Force and joined the Air National Guard in Alaska. She thought she could handle one weekend a month and one week a year in the Guard. She would be deployed to Japan and California. Unfortunately, the pressure to hide who she was started all over again during her four years in the Air National Guard.

Cynthia loved the Air Force and Air National Guard, but hated the fact that she had to hide who she was the entire time she was in the service. She gives admiration and credit to the people she knows who went their whole military career hiding the fact they were gay.

Cynthia summed up her experience in her own eloquent way. “The military did not love me the way I loved the military, so I had to let it go.”

U.S. Navy – 1978-1983

Prescott, Arizona

By Elizabeth Reyes
Courtesy of American Express

Gary Burr enlisted in the Navy for two reasons: so no one could tell him what to do, and to get the heck out of his little hometown of Prescott, Arizona, which he refers fondly to as Biscuit. He succeeded in the second goal, and learned that enlisting in the armed forces is not the best way to avoid getting told what to do.

Gary was born in the mile-high town of Prescott in 1960. Like many folks growing up in a small town, Gary heard the call to leave and see the world. Since everyone knows everyone in a small town, the Navy recruiter took all the willing seniors on a road trip to San Diego “to show how fun it was to be in the Navy.” Gary was sold on the idea. He was not eighteen at the time, but his dad gladly drove him to sign up for the Navy. On August 17, 1978, Gary went to San Diego Naval and Recruit Training Center for boot camp. He thought he had it made when they handed him sunscreen. Little did he know! He says that from the time he arrived until he left, instructors were yelling constantly in his face. At times Gary felt uncertain about his decision to join, but he did not give up.

“The instructors were supposed to make you feel like worms and scum,” he said, “trying first to tear you down and then proceed to build you up. You would do as you were told without hesitation or questions.”

Basic training consisted of learning to follow orders, firefighting training, ship dynamics, physical training, and a load of bookwork. One of the most eye-opening aspects for Gary was the diversity in religion and ethnicity. Gary attended a non-denominational church at camp with many other sailors from other religions.

When his mother sent packages to boot camp, the instructors opened them in front of all the other recruits to embarrass him, and gave his mother’s prized goodies away to everyone. However, after tasting his mom’s and Tutu’s goodies, all looked forward to Gary receiving care packages.

The worst memory Gary has is being in boot camp for his 18th birthday. He remembers looking out across the base. Off in the distance he could see sailboats and restaurants while he was performing grueling exercises.

After boot camp, Gary went to Data Processing School in San Diego for three months to learn about computers and operations. Although he despised boot camp, he thoroughly enjoyed his data processing school.

Gary’s years in the Navy were a time of “peace” for the United States, but the Cold War was very real. Gary’s first orders put him on the USS San Jose, a combat stores ship which carried supplies and ammunition to carrier task force groups at sea and U.S. installations in the Far East.

Being from the landlocked state of Arizona, Gary had rarely gone out to sea; an occasional deep sea fishing trip was the sum of his sailing experience. Gary’s biggest enemies on the ship were squawk boxes (radio communications boxes). Being a tall man, he was always cracking his head on them as well as the hatches. Sleeping arrangements were not much better. There were three racks stacked on each other with three-inch mattresses, and if you got the top you would have a little locker. Being the newbie Gary had to take the top bunk. The fluorescent lights stayed on all hours. Gary says with that the food was good if you like rice, fish, and tuna surprise. Lucky for him, he liked tuna surprise, but he has never had it since because his wife despises it.

While on the USS San Jose, Gary went on two Westpac (Western Pacific) cruises. The first cruise started in San Francisco then went to Hawaii, the Philippines (Subic Bay) Hong Kong, Singapore, Diego Garcia, and Mombasa, Kenya. By the time Gary finished his first duty he was a Data Processing Technician E-5.

Gary does recall a few tense times. While headed to Australia, the ship was turned around and sailed to the coast of Iran where it stayed for six months. On November 4, 1979, a mob stormed the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, taking 52 Americans hostage. President Jimmy Carter ordered all military in that region to go to the Gulf of Oman for a show of force. on November 20, 1979, a radical Islamic faction took over the Grand Mosque in Mecca. The Ayatollah Khomeini broadcast over radio the lie that Americans were behind the occupation. A mob in the Pakistani capital, Islamabad, burned the U.S. Embassy to the ground, killing a United States Marine, an army warrant officer, and two Pakistani staff members.

Gary’s ship pulled into Karachi, Pakistan, and a landing party got off. Militants with automatic rifles immediately surrounded them. The next thing Gary knew, the ship had to pull out immediately without retrieving the landing crew. To this day Gary does not know what happened to them.

During this time the United States Navy and the Soviet Navy circled around each other out in the Gulf of Oman.

“They had their show of force and we had ours,” Gary said, “but it was as boring as if could be.”

He and thousands of other sailors spent Christmas of 1979 in the middle of the Gulf of Oman.

The hostages in the Tehran embassy were held for 444 days until January 20, 1981, the day Ronald Reagan was sworn in as President.

Before and after its deployment in the Gulf of Oran, the USS San Jose saved two groups of Vietnamese “boat people” in the middle of the South China Sea. One of the times there were 48 refugees in one small fishing boat. The second time the boat had 45 people aboard.

“They would set out from Vietnam into the shipping lanes hoping to be rescued,” Gary said.

The maritime rules stated that a ship does not have to stop to help another ship unless they are in distress, so sometimes the boat people would set their ship on fire not only be seen, but in desperation to be saved. Men, women and children of all ages were rescued by Gary’s ship. Most were suffering from dehydration and lack of food. Sadly many of them had died before they could be saved.

For nine months, the USS San Jose was in and out of its home port of Subic Bay, Philippines. During Gary’s free time in the Philippines, he and a few of his friends would take a small bus to a resort called Baguio and play Black Jack. Gary said that the rest of what he and his friends did in the Philippines is going to stay in the Philippines.

Although Gary didn’t have any friends in boot camp, he did make lifelong friendships with some of his shipmates. Joe Mayuex, Peter Kronberg and Greg Grandon are still in contact with him today. Gary, Peter and Joe see each other every couple of years, and all of them stay in touch using FACEBOOK.

While in Mombasa, Kenya, Gary went on a walking safari.

“Poverty was so bad,” Gary said, “that the people would trade beautiful carvings for the most basic goods.”

The sailors would trade T-shirts, Levis, and the sheets off their beds. Gary traded his Stanford T-shirt for a pair of giraffe carvings. These carvings still have a prominent place in his home today.

When Gary wasn’t exploring his surroundings he ran the supply operations and data entry.

In 1981, the ship was stationed in Guam. Gary could walk through the shallow water to another island about a half a mile away and see tropical fish without snorkeling. While on the ship Gary played his guitar, which he still plays. But duty there wasn’t always fun. One time on the ship Gary and his friend Peter had to paint the storeroom. They were in a tight space; after a couple minutes, they found themselves on the floor feeling as if they were stoned. Fortunately they realized what was happening and were able to get out of there before the paint fumes could do more harm.

While out to sea, the ship laundry (one level down from the deck) caught fire. The washing machine motors contained magnesium, very easy to light but impossible to put out with water. The magnesium burned through the bottom of the washing machine and proceeded to burn through the deck to the one below. It was apparent that if something weren’t done quickly, the magnesium would burn all the way to the hull. The engineers came up with the idea to get a big metal tray and fill it with sand. The magnesium burned through two decks before landing in the sandy tray. By the time it was out the sand had turned to glass.

In Guam, Gary requested orders for shore duty. He received order to Naval Regional Data Automation Center (NARDAC), North Island, San Diego, California, where he a computer programmer for IBM, Burrows, and UNIVAC systems. In 1981, Gary was able to spend Christmas with his family in Prescott.

After serving in the Navy for five years, Gary felt it was time to leave. As Gary puts it, it was “out of the fire and into the frying pan.” He was awarded Humanitarian Medal, Expeditionary Medal, and an honorable discharge. He and his shipmates also were awarded a key to the city of San Jose, California, where he can go to any bar at any time and have a free drink.

The best memory Gary has to this day is meeting Paula his wife. “She waved to me and the rest, as they say, is history. Since then my life has never been the same,” Gary says with a twinkle in his eye. They married two weeks after he was discharged. Paula still had one more year to serve in the Navy before she, too, would get out.

Gary’s first job after the Navy was at Solar Turbines in San Diego, where his experience earned him double pay. When Paula was honorably discharged they moved to Phoenix, Arizona.

Gary considers the Navy a life-learning lesson. The most valuable lesson Gary learned was work ethic. “The Navy instills in you the importance of good work,” he said.

Gary still lives in Phoenix today with his wife, Paula. He is a father of four − Brielle, Danielle, Janelle, and Ethan – with a grandson Tanner and a granddaughter Kinsley.

His job today is Technology Infrastructure Architect for American Express.

To this day he never regrets joining the United States Navy.

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Edited by Joe Zentis

The first dog to enter our training program is a four year old male beagle/lab mix named King. His owners, a retired WWII veteran and his wife, had adopted him into their home after finding him abandoned on a country road. When they had to move from their house into a condo, they put a flyer in a local pet store advertising him as a “free dog to a good home.” That’s where we discovered him. His owner was so proud to give him to us so that he could help another veteran.

King is a mild mannered, very social dog. He loves other dogs, kids, and basically everyone he meets. He enjoys daily walks, fetching his toys, and spending time with his foster family.

On September 3, King passed his American Kennel Club Good Canine Citizen test. He is tentatively set to be adopted by an Iraq War veteran and his family.

Press Release
November 2012

Subject:  Hillcrest Memorial Park creates an opportunity for burying the cremated remains of American veterans and their spouses in the Avenue of 444 Flags.

On Veterans Day, November 11, Hillcrest Memorial Park will initiate a new burial service that combines an ancient burial method with modern technology to honor and memorialize American veterans who have been cremated.

“The cremated remains of most people are never buried,” said Hillcrest owner Tom Flynn. “That might not be a problem at first, but eventually the generation of people who knew and loved them will pass. What happens to those remains then? They most likely will be stored somewhere out of sight or be lost and forgotten.”

Hillcrest Memorial Park will offer an alternative: to bury the cremated remains of veterans and their spouses in one of the most beautiful and patriotic sites in the country – among the 444 flags surrounding the War on Terror Memorial. First raised during the Iran hostage crisis in 1980, the flags continue to fly as a symbol of freedom, and as a tribute to the veterans who have secured that freedom.

Along with the burial site to preserve the remains of some of those veterans, Hillcrest will establish a web site to preserve the memories of their lives and service. A permanent web page for each veteran will include his or her biographical and military service information, personal tributes, and photos. For those whose families who prefer to limit access to that information, all or part of it can be password-protected.

To make the most of the space, Hillcrest is developing the area around the War on Terror Memorial into an ossuary. An ossuary is a site in which the remains of more than one person can be interred. Used for centuries in countries with large populations and limited burial space, ossuaries are being established in many American cemeteries as cremation becomes more widespread and as space becomes more limited. Because of its spatial economy, Hillcrest’s ossuary will allow many veterans and spouses to rest beneath the 444 flags.

Hillcrest’s unique approach is to bore vertically as deep as 60 feet into the ground and insert cylinders, sealed at the bottom.  The remains of each person, in their urns or special containers, will be solemnly lowered individually into one of the cylinders. When the cylinder is full, it will be sealed on top and covered over with sod. The location of the remains of each person will be recorded. That information will be available to anyone who wishes to visit the site.

This unique approach will allow Hillcrest to designate different cylinders for servicemen and women from each of the armed forces – Air Force, Army, Coast Guard, Marines, and Navy.

On Veterans Day, November 11, 2012, at 11 a.m. – the same time and day as the signing of the treaty that ended World War I – Hillcrest will inter the cremated remains of 50 veterans and their spouses at no cost, and will establish their web pages online, also at no cost. The interments will take place during a ceremony with full military honors.

“I encourage families to take advantage of this opportunity,” Flynn said. “To be among the first to be buried there will be quite an honor.”

Those interested should contact Hillcrest Memorial Park at 724-346-3818 as soon as possible.

To maintain the dignity of the site and the honor of those interred there, families will need to provide documentation of the identity of the remains, as well as a DD-214 or other papers certifying the deceased’s honorable military service.

“We invite family and friends of those being buried, as well as others who wish to honor them, to attend the ceremony,” Flynn said.

In the future, the cremated remains of veterans and their spouses will be buried among the flags at a small fraction of the cost of traditional funerals. That cost will include the establishment of a permanent memorial web page.