My dad was among other things a refinery engineer for CalTex/Texaco Refining, so my early life was that of a refinery brat, sort of like being a military brat except the towns smelled worse. And almost none of the kids I knew wanted to be firemen when/if they grew up....
There's a funny story about our family in Argentina when I was about 2 or 3 years old; but I think it'll keep till some other time. We were in Venezuelia and Chile for a while after that, but I remember little of that. In 1957 Dad was sent to the Texaco refinery at Santa Clara in Cuba's Oriente Province, and it was thought that my going along would be a swell *learning experience.* It was indeed that. The kids of the Marines, Hershey's Chocolate Plantation, Texaco and airport/dock facilities *helped* me along with additions to my Spanish-language vocabulary our teachers had somehow left out....
That's not the greatest of skills for dealing with those from Mexico or Central America, but it's gotten me around in jobs in Honduras and Guatemala. In Guatemala I was photographing most of the bridges used by FEGUA, the national narrowgauge railroad system, which are slated to be replaced by a U.S. and Mexican-system compatable Standard Gauge system one of these days- they may even be working on it now. But if any of their bridges had been lost, either to natural disasters [earthquake] or terrorism, the replacements would have been a little easier to build, ship and emplace with my photos for comparison.
Pretty thin stuff, so far as the James Bond types go. I'd have made a lousy spy, and took almost all of my photos in broad daylight.
When some U.S. military personnel tasked with suopport of a roadbuilding project in the Oso Grande area of Honduras got their warning orders for their operation, their commanding officer had me chat with 'em about life and conditions in Central America in general, with the understanding that I was no expert at all on the specific area where they'd be working. Unfortunately, they didn't believe the stuff I told 'em about all the folks around there living in igloos like the eskimos and making their living as whale and seal hunters, but I tried....and I did give them some idea about why to NOT use some of those pretty words those kids in Cuba had taught me years before....
Even better: I got to give some of 'em [424th Medical Detachment] a basic course in rappelling and abseiling/ ropework, since some would be working from helicopters and others would be in serious better-rope-up mountain country. This was more interesting than average since about a quarter of their personnel were female, and got pretty good at it pretty quick. And I also got some swell photos of their commanding officer hanging upsidedown when he was first getting the hang of things.
FEerrocarriles de GUAtemala- Villa Canales bridge [this'n needs a little work!]
