Posted on 06/21/2008 7:21:19 PM PDT by WOBBLY BOB
We went down in 1959 ... I was going into the 2nd grade. Came back in 1967.
You’re right about a paradise with a fence. (And they tell us a fenceline wouldn’t work in the states. A nice fence with a minefield and US marines manning the guns behind that worked just fine.)
So you missed the cutting of the water pipe, right. There really are things worse than thawed milk. Try water from the boilers of a ship.
I was in a C-Store about a year ago in the wee hours of the morning (2:00 AM or 3:00). The guy at the counter noticed another guy in there had a Gitmo shirt on, and told the guy he’d been there as a kid. I chimed in. All 3 of us had grown up in Gitmo. It was a cool reunion.
I was in 5th grade when they evacuated us. Our ship was separated from the convoy and a Soviet submarine trailed us the entire trip.
For my whole family, Gitmo was the best place we ever lived. I wish my young’uns could experience the freedom I had down there and the learning opportunities I had.
We didn’t do much spearfishing. Horseback riding was our big thing. I’d go riding every day on the way home from school. Get off the bus, saddle up and disappear into the hills. Loved it. Did the same thing when we settled into the mountains of NC. Would go riding back on mining trails for hours. On weekends I’d be gone all day.
My FR about page has a little about my Gitmo experiences.
Did a 20 mile hike once ... the length of Sherman avenue two times. LOL.
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