A good ol' boy, I first met JR around late 82-early 83 at FASO Moffett. He was a Master Chief then who was coming back on active duty after being a reserve in Memphis for so many years. Being the senior man in his class and already a potential candidate for Rogaine, JR had several different ways to motivate his classmates.

Hence the birth of the "class rock". Whoever had the lowest score in the class was responsible for the care and feeding of the class rock. Eventually the rock grew eyes and even hair (to rival JR) and I believe managed to obtain a FASO security badge. Between the rock and JR-led night school, his class made it the whole way through FASO and VP-31.

My next interaction with JR was when he debriefed about 40 AW1s about his recent experience on the CPO board. He stopped his discussion at one point, turned to me, and stated that I would make AWC next year on my first time up. Feeling both a little embarassed as well as a little pressured, I nevertheless was pleasantly surprised that next year when his prophecy came true.

During the weeks prior to my CPO initiation, we had various fundraisers to help pay our initiation fines. My fines alone were $1200. JR arrived at our car wash and we quickly cleaned his pick-me-up truck. He then said he would be right back with another vehicle to wash. Twenty minutes later he arrived...same truck...but with his horse trailer attached. As we geared our noses up and began to find ways to increase the water pressure, we were quite happy to find that all it needed was a quick rinse...which says something about his care for his horses.

JR showed up initiation day to help march us over to our deaths. That is...he showed up riding his horse. In order to maintain the base cleanliness, it was decided that a pooper scooper squad was required. I had the privilege of manning the sacred shovel.

Initiation day went as initiation days go. After sufficient medical treatment was administered to "help" me tell the truth, I finally had the opportunity to plead my worthless defense to the high judge...who of course...was JR!

JR knows something about survival...especially self-survival. As I prepared to meet my fate, dressed as Snoopy with my Sopwith Camel doghouse, JR thought it would be prudent to have my doghouse inspected. The sheriffs quickly disarmed and downloaded various forms of water-filled ordnance covertly hidden within the doghouse.

Literally alone...AND UNARMED...I appeared before JR. Despite my innocence, justice was indeed blind, and I was found guilty on many trumped up charges and fined $300. I proclaimed my innocence by uttering an epitath having something to do with fornication and the judge. In a strange case of double or nothing, I was now up to $600. Steadfast in my innocence, I uttered further demands that the judge could only perform if he was completely double-jointed. And speaking of double...I was now up to $1200...it was at that point I finally realized that I was indeed guilty!!

I would meet JR over the years and in 1990, I arrived at NETPMSA to write exams and books. Guess who my boss was? None other than JR!!

I would learn a lot about JR those next two years. For example, he was the Alabama State Trooper of the Year. Of course, he earned that award by taking a bullet to the head. Although we suspected he was already hard-headed, we had further proof on the golf course when AWC Mike Morris teed off..right into JR's face...it knocked him down but he stood right up!

JR played for Bear Bryant at 'Bama wearing #44. He also had retired in the mid-80s and but maintained his flight pay working for that secretive State Department Agency in flights south of the border.

JR was also a farmer. For quite a while, he would commute two hours one-way each day from his Samson, Alabama farm. It was also amazing how his crop always had to be harvested the same time that exams were due to be reviewed or administered...and guess who inherited his Navy work?

JR also worked as a deputy sheriff in the Samson area and his farm was a paradises for the several foster children needing a time-out while the courts decided their fates. JR's farm was also a shelter for all his workers whose dogs and cats had litters with no home.