Chet Urbati

Question from CECS Chet Urbati:
Bob, who first took you to the top of the hangar to the top of the water tower to change the observation light?

Bob’s Answer:
Chet, was it the same Seabee who sent me a baboon skin from his duty station in Ethiopia?

Who got blown up on the tarmac in Vietnam?

Who was stationed on American Samoa?

Who married a girl from Puerto Rico?

Who lied to the Chief about me climbing the water tower at the Hingham Ammunition Dump when he had let me go on liberty early to see my girlfriend?

Do you mean the guy who took me to the bar in west Quincy that had a sign in the window, WE DON'T HAVE A TV BUT THERE IS A FIGHT HERE EVERY NIGHT?

Who took me under his wing when I came aboard South Weymouth Naval Air Station and even brought me to visit his Mom and Dad at Crow Point when I was still a wet-behind-the-ears 19 year old?

Who taught me all about metals, especially COPPER?

Whose wife Carmen I met while dancing Cajun at Mulates in New Orleans?

The guy with the 44 years of hash marks?

His last duty station was Gulfport, Mississippi.

Rumor has it that he made Senior Chief.

That boring guy?

I forget his name.

by Bacon CEW2 693-10-63

Luigi

I met Luigi at the South Weymouth Naval Air Station in 1965. He was the gardener for the whole base. As far as I know he was the only one. He was a Sandcrab. That is what the Marines and Sailors called civilians working on a United States military installation.

By now you know that I grew up in a very ethnic Italian neighborhood. So naturally I was attracted to the short Italian man who walked with an awkward gait, as if one leg was 8 inches shorter than the other. He spoke very broken English and always chewed garlic, the aroma of which would make your head spin when you spoke to him.

In the service no one called you by your first name. No one but Luigi, that is, and for some reason he called me Bill. Luigi was 83 at the time and I didn't think it necessary to correct him. So I never did.

Ona day hea comea upa to me and he say, “Bill, I hear you gonna getta married.”

I confirmed that I was.

He said, “Bill, whata kind of ah girl you marry, Eetalian?"

I said no. He seemed tripped up by that answer.

He thought it over and he said, "Bill, you marry a French girl?"

I said no.

He thought and he thought, and finally he say in a mildly frustrated way, "BILL, WHAT KIND OF AH GIRL YOU MARRY?"

I replied, “A Polish girl, Luigi.”

That stopped him cold.

He thought and he thought. He rubbed his chin while shaking his head. Finally he said, "She be OK!"

A week later, he presented me with this rug as a wedding gift. As luck would have it, he was correct about my future wife. Maybe because of Luigi's blessing, we will be married for 43 years this September anda si si si she's a been very OK.



Lucky me, Iah stilla hava the rug and I stilla hava the girl.

Sadly we don't have Luigi anymore, but I know where he is.

Written with sweet memories by his friend
Bill Bacon

Hangar 1

Hangar 1 at South Weymouth Massachusetts Naval Air Station.

Originally built to house blimps.



It was one of my jobs to keep the lights working in the tower on the right. For this I would get a half a day off.

When a new sailor came aboard, it was also my duty to walk him to the top, but only if he wanted to. I on the other hand had no choice. Aye Aye, Sir!





Yah, that's me topside. Look at how much higher Hangar 1 is, compared to the orange and white water tower. You can't make this stuff up.

Bacon CEW2 693-10-63
construction electrician wiring petty officer second class

you NEVER forget your service number

Still Recovering . . .

from Johnny D's in Somerville last night. We went to see for our first time the all girl band GIRL HOWDY that also has two guys in it. The opening act was non other than ROY SLUDGE and his trio, which from where I was sitting looked to be a total of three people. He is billed as a truck driving, drinking band. Probably during the day he is a brain surgeon. Maybe you have heard of their biggest hit, TOO DRUNK TO TRUCK? Maybe not.

You can't make up stuff like this but they did. The cover charge was $10 and it was worth every dollar.

A Nice Long Friendship

Last night Sandy and I drove to South Yarmouth to visit old Navy friends, Maggie and Ray Risley, who had rented a house near the beach for a week. Almost everyone there had on a Club Bacon tee shirt to greet us. They have been to every party that we have ever had. Only Marnie and Allan Sylvester still fit in their Mexican Pool Party 1984 shirts. More than likely Randy Adams still fits in his also. Oh ! And both the Heberleins.

We became good friends with Ray and Maggie 45 years ago while in the Navy. He didn't even get mad at me years ago when I drove his Ford off an icy Mass Pike into thankfully a very thick snow drift while being called back to the Naval Air Station to plow the runways. Do you know where the sign is that says “highest point in elevation on the Massachusetts Turnpike?” That is where we went into the snowdrift. “Oh the Berkshires were covered in snow and so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston.” It sure was that night. Every time I hear James Taylor sing that song I think of that very eventful night. Wait a minute. Is that correct? How is that possible? Yup! Forty-five years ago.

When we left Marshfield it was 93 degrees. Just before we hit the Cape Cod Canal it was down to 83. By the time we arrived in South Yarmouth it was 78. That was a 15-degree difference over a 50-mile drive.



Three out of four of the Risley kids were there with their children. Their good friend Sue Keefe was there also. Well yah, she gets Bob Mail. Shaun, Bridget and Katie did all the cooking and drink mixing. Mostly Shaun. He does much of the cooking at home too. Many of our male friends do that: Gene Spriggs, Dick Brown, John Cerri and Charles Gregory, to name a few. I cook twice a week but I do not enjoy doing it. At the Cape, we had shrimp, chicken and beef tacos, Denver style. The green peppers were killers. The green poppers were wonderful. All Sandy and I had to do was to bring dessert and pretend that we were enjoying being catered to. Boy did that feel good. All the Risleys treat us like family. They always have.



Shaun and Rachel came all the way from Denver with their new son, Flynn. Flynn was Margaret Mary's maiden name. No really, Maggie was once a maiden. I know. I was there. Trust me. We attended Shaun and Rachel's wedding in Denver. We have attended all the kids’ weddings and the next one is Katie and Ray's in Pittsfield, Massachusetts on New Years Eve. Ray and Maggie have always been there for us. When Sandy's Dad passed way too early or when Marnie was sick in the Berkshires and Maggie said, "Go on your vacation, I will take care of her."

While at Shaun and Rachel's wedding, someone at our table mentioned that the bride and groom were going to Costa Rica for their honeymoon. We asked them where they were staying and they said MAKANDA in Quepos. We love that hotel -- it is one of our favorites -- and we also gave them tips on traveling in Costa Rica. So that was a really nice connection. Last night we had another nice connection. Shaun proposed to Rachel at another favorite spot of ours, Ojo Caliente Spa, just north of Santa Fe in New Mexico. The state, not the country. And NO! I didn't take any of the potshards from the ancient ruin just above the spa. There were really too many of them anyway if I did take one or two.



We drove back late with a beautiful full moon to look at all the way home, while visions of delicious, ice cold, margaritas danced in our heads.

Alexandra and Roberto Tocino -- still having fun