Naval Medical Field Research Lab, Building 66, Camp Lejeune, NC

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My mother, Vivian M. “Mick/Mickey” Gibson worked about 45 years as a Civil Service secretary.  Most of her time was stationed aboard Camp Lejeune Marine Corps Base.  I recall that one of her secretarial jobs was at Building 66, the Naval Medical Field Research Lab on Base.  The time would have been the early 1960s.  I found an official document regarding the NMFRL-CLNC-1963-AD0422922 online.

I rode with my mother, or drove to pick her up, on Base many times through the years. If you were near the traffic circle when the flag was schedule to come down (maybe 6 pm??), all traffic stopped, even in the circle, until the ceremony was over. Mom worked at the Industrial Relations Labor Board (at the main entrance to Camp Lejeune) when she first started working on Base. But, many years, when we were living in the old house on the corner of Hwy. 24 and Queens Creek Road (now the Burger King), she would leave about 7:30 am, and return about 5:30 pm going along Queens Creek Road and on Base via the “Back Gate” (Hwy 172). *Interesting that they built a million dollar hi-rise bridge down at Sneads Ferry some years ago, and a short time later closed public traffic down Hwy 172.

My first dog was “Lassie”. I’m not sure if it was legal, but Rip Jackson had rescued the dog from the Lab. It would have been one of their many test subjects. *One of those mental images that has stuck with me through the years, although I never actually saw this, was that as part of the testing procedures, they would put a cadaver’s foot in a boot and blow it up to see the results. **Note that this was the Vietnam War Era.

Some of the names I recall of persons that she worked with, some secretarial and some not, were Barbara Brainerd, Robin Short & “Rip” Jackson.  One Christmas, mom had Rip Jackson put together some fishing equipment and she gave me that as a present that Christmas.  I still have the Penn “9” reel, which sits above my bathroom medicine cabinet.

Penn 9 Reel
Penn 9 Reel that was part of the fishing tackle Rip Jackson purchased for my mother.

It does not work properly now, but probably could be put in working condition fairly easily.

There was a metal fishing tackle box in a copper colored finish.  I recall one lure which looked like a bright pearline white shrimp with several hooks hanging down beneath it.

On Christmas morning, mom and I rode down to the Bogue Sound Fishing Pier.  It was a cold, bright sunny, morning, but there were several fishermen on the pier.  Neither one of us knew what we were doing.  There was an old fisherman located on the pier near where the waves were breaking down below.  He was pulling in sea trout on a regular basis.  Mom nor I ever caught anything.  *We joked about moving near to the old fisherman, and then he would move away from us.  I guess we were messing up his fishing;-)

Aunt Pete & Ervin & Boat 521 Riverside Drive Portsmouth VA 1970
Aunt Pete & Ervin & Boat 521 Riverside Drive Portsmouth VA 1970

I probably did not go fishing again until Irwin Wilkins took me out on his boat during one of the summers when I was up living with my mother in Aunt Pete’s home on Riverside Drive, Portsmouth, VA.  Irwin was my Aunt’s long time “beau”.

Irwin had about a 16ft. boat with an outboard motor on it.  We would put out from my Aunt’s wooden dock.  There was a great difference depending upon the tides.  Once we almost got stuck going out, and would have either had to sit in the boat until the tide came back in, or tried to make it to shore in knee deep mud.  Irwin worked at getting his boat out from the small receding water channel, and finally with much work succeeded.  We would have been out in the James River.

The “body language” tells it all.  I’m taking the picture.  Glad I was oblivious.

Mom & Mustang 521 Riverside Drive Portsmouth VA 1970
Mom Mustang 521 Riverside Drive Portsmouth VA 1970
Bill in front of 521 Riverside Drive 1970
Bill in front of 521 Riverside Drive 1970

Segregationist governor’s name to be removed from ECU dorm

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WRAL.com

Charles B. Aycock was the Governor of North Carolina at the turn of the last Century.  He was a Democrat, and followed Republican Governor Daniel Lindsay Russell.  Russell was a distant relative of mine.  He and his wife are buried in a little, neglected cemetery between Swansboro and Belgrade, NC.  I say neglected, not because someone mows the lawn periodically, but because since my first visit years ago, the ornate iron fencing surrounding the small cemetery has mostly disappeared.  I guess “grave robbers” are stealing the wrought iron to sell.

cbaycock

During the election campaign for Daniel Russell, he was often caricatured in the News & Observer as a hideous creature, sometimes even portrayed with claws, instead of hands.  Russell wasn’t what might be considered a handsome man.  He was tall, and “large boned,” and he did have almost “bugged” eyes, so creating an unpleasant image wasn’t that difficult.  The News & Observer of that time was obviously racist, and pretty unashamedly so… so Charles B. Aycock would not have been an enemy of the publication.

In 1972, when I first attended college at UNC-Chapel Hill, I was housed in Aycock Men’s Dorm.  I was on the 3rd floor and my first roommate was Keith Smith, a UNC Senior.  I only attended UNC-Chapel Hill for two years, before I had to go elsewhere.  Not their fault, but mine… being a Fall partier, that in my last weeks, became a Spring partier, and an “almost every night of the week” drinker.

During the warmer times of the year, when we had our windows open, my third roommate, who’s name I do not recall (but he was a young, accomplished tennis player with Arthur Ashe composite rackets), and who loved to put strings of profanity together, would call out of the window, “Lewis… Lewis… Lewis,”  (getting louder with each call) and finally from across the quad, a male voice from Lewis Dorm would respond, “What”.   And, to which my roommate, and later myself would reply, “Eat Shit!”  Funny what entertains one in college.

Writing this also reminds me that we rarely had our 3rd floor window closed*, and that was because during warmer days, we needed the breeze, and during colder times, our uncontrollable radiator put out more than enough heat (too much) to have the window closed.  *I do recall a few days, with snow on the ground that we finally closed the window.

Aycock Dorm was eventually combined with the next door, women’s dorm (I don’t recall that name.) physically, with the small space between the two buildings being built in & bricked.  *I also recall that years after attending classes, but before the buildings being connected, I parked my car and walked into the dorm.  i started upstairs, and made it all the way to the 3rd floor doors before realizing that the dorm had been converted to a women’s facility.  The cute little door message board was the dead giveaway of the change.

On those times when I travel between Fayetteville and Greenville, I am reminded of Governor Aycock as I near his birthplace, which is a State preserved/run Park.  Wonder if eventually someone will think to try and stop State funding for the Aycock Birthplace.

In reading about Daniel L. Russell and Charles B. Aycock, even though one was a Republican and the other a Democrat, they both were friendly and respected one another.  I seem to recall that they amicably rode a train together, and when Russell left the Governor’s Mansion, he left the place in good condition, and well stocked for food… not as Russell’s predecessor had, leaving the Mansion with a bare pantry and strewn on the lower floor with empty liquor bottles.

*Note:  I also recall that quite often the thick aroma of marijuana would waft up from below (I guess 2nd floor.) and be sucked into our dorm window.  I did not try MJ until I was attending UNC-W (late in my college educational process), but for about 11 months during that time, I tried it quite frequently, and learned to experience “the munchies” and the paranoia that goes with its use.

[NOTE 01/31/25]:  I just re-read part of what I wrote above and realized that I’ve recently retold the same story, and that quite often I’ve recounted the same points.  I thought them interesting ten years ago, and again just a few days ago.  The cussing roommate, calling out to Lewis Dorm.  The window open most of the year, and combining the two dorms into one long one.  [end NOTE] 

Turkish Glass

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7918179770_579b9727e6_zI found two of these glass tumblers at an antiques store in New Bern, NC.  They were the first two things my eyes focused on as I entered the door.  I went to them immediately and took the two of them up to the checkout counter, and then spent about another hour looking through the rest of the store.  I recall that the clerk took off about a $1 per glass, and they weren’t expensive.  Very pretty gold rim.  They are slightly smaller than the Libby Catawba glasses I have (of which all but about two have been broken in my dishwasher).  51VVR1CKTWL

Country Ham, Red-eye Gravy at Helen’s Kitchen

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countryham-red-eye-gravy-at-helens-kitchen-jax-nc

I cannot rely on Helen’s Kitchen to consistently provide good red-eye gravy, but this picture reminds me that this was one of the really good ones.  Everything fixed really well!  More than once, or twice, or even three times, their red-eye gravy has come out “looking good” but having no or very little salty flavor.  At one time I thought that I had just gotten there late and they had “watered down” the gravy to make it last, but I’ve arrived earlier and it still was bland.

[NOTE 06/28/25]: I may have mentioned this elsewhere but I found that adding some salt to the bland red-eye gravy was the answer. Maybe they add water to dilute the salt, and I just have to impose my will and add it back. *And they almost always provide way more country ham that I am going to eat at breakfast so I almost always take one of the flat biscuits (which I love that they don’t have a bunch of white starchy center) and make a country ham biscuit for later. The later normally coming somewhere near the Friends You Know Restaurant, after I’ve just had some onion rings and a Diet Dr. Pepper.

I drove down to Hubert yesterday (Friday) and had lunch with Mary Ann at the El Catrin Kitchen near Swansboro. But there were several things I did or did not do that I usually do or do not do. I didn’t go to Helen’s Kitchen for a country ham breakfast. Highly unusual. I ate a Mexican Scrambled Eggs breakfast at home, and got started for Jacksonville a little later.

So, since I didn’t go to Helen’s Kitchen I drove directly to the Library and bought a couple of books and some magazines ($6 total, I think). And then because of the relative “lateness of the hour” I drove down to Hubert (instead of heading up to cross the Minnesott Beach Ferry to Cherry Branch – a 20 minutes joy of a ride) with the intent of passing by Mary Ann’s in Hubert and driving directly to Beaufort. But as I went past Ray’s, I decided to turn in and try to unload the thick cut pork chops I had bought for them.

I got a great deal on the Thick Cut Pork Chops at Lee’s Fresh Market, near Benson, the day before. They had two chops per package and they were only $1.89 a pound… and, there was a sticker on the package that said, “Buy One, Get One Free.” Wow!!! What a deal. And I had prayed, minorly, just to have some pork chops there to buy, but this was fantastic. I bought four packages, kept one, and tried to take one to Jeff Mitchell’s, but no one was home so I ended up taking 3 packages (6 chops total) down for Ray & Mary Ann.

I also had made a Bean Sprout Kit for Ethan, but didn’t see him. Left that with Ray & explained how it works. Also left several books for the kids. One book was about the Titanic, and I think the book I bought at the library that morning was about Space (from back when the space race was popular… Goddard, the Moon, etc.). These books might have been interesting when I was growing up, especially if I had to do a report on something, but now I would just get the full color photos, and videos from YouTube and let the AI help me write the whole thing. *I was never good at writing long papers. I couldn’t even write a three page report. All the extra words to explain something that could be said in three sentences didn’t seem interesting to me. *The sinking of the “Graf Spee” came from a Reader’s Digest article and I just couldn’t make it flowery enough to fill 3 pages. And I’m pretty sure that the teacher knew exactly where I had gotten the idea from. And this was before the Internet, so I only had one source and it wasn’t the TV. Argentina?

Oh, and I had a jar of Duke’s Mayo that I also gave Ray. Just before I left home, I had looked over and saw the 4 unopened jars of Duke’s and I thought, hey I’m never going to use all these before one goes bad. I’ll see if Ray wants it.

Mary Ann left for the beauty parlor while Ray and I were talking outside. I didn’t see her come out and get in her van, but then Ray pointed out that it was gone.

I told him I was heading down to Morehead City and he said he had to go back inside to “feed the kids.”

I didn’t count on the “summer traffic” milling about the beach, and “the bridge” and Morehead City & Beaufort, but I made it almost to the Beaufort Inn before turning around, and it was about 2:08 pm when I got to the restaurant.

But I also took the back route along Morehead City and never had an accident or other traffic flow problem to deal with. It’s 4th Street where the thru fare ends, and you turn for one block back to the road that will take you over the new bridge to Beaufort. As you come off the new bridge the Beaufort Airport (a small thing) is on the left and you turn right to go down to the Beaufort waterfront. Lots of beachers down there.

The damned GPS on my phone kept telling me that Swansboro was almost an hour away, and it was only when I was almost in Swansboro that the GPS said, “You’re 8 minutes from Swansboro.” I don’t know where it thought I was, but it was obvious, IT DIDN’T HAVE A CLUE! Like when I was in Greensboro, last, and it said it would take a day or more to get to some street in Greensboro, by car, and it kept showing that I was starting somewhere in Missouri, USA. Or, how about several weeks ago, I had an argument with Gemini (AI) that Joe Biden wasn’t our current President in June of 2025. It swore up one side and down another that he had won the election and that was after I had tried to tell the AI, he didn’t even finish the Election. Later that afternoon, the AI finally came to it’s senses and agreed with me that Donald Trump was our current President. I think I even responded to the AI, “Damn, I wish you were right and that Joe Biden had won the Presidency again, but he didn’t.”

Ray never showed up for lunch.

I sat at the table next to the others, but right next to Mary Ann. I had the Chicken Fajitas Lunch Special, a little over $10, and unsweet tea. I ate a bunch of tortilla chips, which I shouldn’t have and the one meal was probably 1,600 calories, just for lunch. But, it was delicious.

I took a detour after El Catrin and went over to Stella and then back on Parkertown Road on my way to Mary Ann’s. Mary Ann and I talked at the round table and I left shortly before 7 pm. Still lite outside, and I stopped at the Friends You Know Restaurant for onion rings and a Diet Dr. Pepper. I ran through a little stormy weather before getting there and the temp had dropped to about 83 degrees F. That’s amazing because just a few days prior the weather people were saying we might have about 7 days of 100 + degrees weather. Now only about 3 in a row, and yesterday, didn’t get to 100 everywhere I went.

[end]

12,419 Days

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It is 12,419 days from the start date to the end date, but not including the end date

Or 34 years excluding the end date  (http://www.timeanddate.com/date/durationresult.html?m1=01&d1=16&y1=1980&m2=01&d2=16&y2=2014)

UPDATE AS OF [12/19/25]:  16,438 days since December 16, 2025 and 45 years and 2 days.  Jeff Mitchell had his hip replacement surgery yesterday and came out alive.  Amazing that you can do this as outpatient and be home later that day.  [end UPDATE]

My mother died 34 years ago this morning a little after 8 am, or that’s how I remember it.  I had spent the night in her hospital room, sleeping for a while in a chair.  I recall that early in the morning, a doctor and nurse had come into the darkened room to check on my mother and I heard them whisper her blood pressure reading.  I think it was somewhere in the 40s, and whether they made the comment that that reading was exceptionally low, I knew it wasn’t good for her.

I guess they had induced a semi-comatose state by giving her Brompton’s Mixture.  *I just checked the spelling of this, having thought for about 34 years that it was Bromine’s Mixture.  I did know that it was a mixture of powerful pain suppressants.  So addictively powerful that it was only given to terminally ill patients (of which mom having Leukemia, was one) who would never be expected to “break the habit.”

I say semi-comatose because mom had laid in her hosptial bed, eyes rolled back in her head and breathing becoming longer between the cycles of inhale and exhale.  At one point that morning, I had gotten up and went to the bed and touched her hand.  Her eyes rolled back, showing her pupils to me, but looking through me, not at me.  No love or recognition remained.  My mother had already left me.  I’m sure, “not of her choosing.”  And, just as quickly as they had rolled one way, they rolled back showing only the whites of her eyes.

I walked over to the chair in the corner of the room and sat back down.  It might have been about 7:45 am when I touched my mom’s hand, and now perhaps about 8:10 am, I heard her breathe her last… and then, the “Death Gurgles”.  With her head being slightly elevated upon a pillow, I guess the air trapped inside lifeless lungs meanders its way back up and out for the last time, gurgling as if water flowing down a mountain stream.

I don’t know if I got up and walked over beside her bed, and sat down in a chair there, or whether I was already there, with my back to the one window in the room.  The room by the way was 401, which was across from a nurses’ station.  I guess you can tell the extremely ill patients by how close they are placed to hospital staff.

I waited for several minutes, or at least that is how it seemed.  It might have been less than a minute in reality, but I intentionally was waiting before notifying a doctor or nurse.  I loved my mother.  She was “the light in my life,” but weighing about 84 lbs., and having been is extreme pain, in her last days, and not able to do the things she had loved for much of her life, those being work as an office secretary (over 45 years Civil Service), and outdoor work (gardening, etc.), it was time to go.  The doctor (Dr. Adnan E. Taj-Eldin, MD) had already put a “no code” on my mother, which meant, do not attempt to resuscitate.  I was perfectly in agreement with that decision.  Why would you want a loved one to remain in pain just because you weren’t ready to let them “go” for some reason?

However long I waited, I stood up and went out of the room and to the Nurses’ Station where a lone nurse stood, perhaps filling out paperwork.  I said to the nurse, “Would you please take a look at my mother.”  In my request there was no hint that I already knew my mother was dead.  My voice made one request, but there was another part of me that, standing outside myself, gave a short laugh and then said to me, “You know she’s dead.”

The nurse went into the room by herself, the door automatically shutting behind itself, but shortly she came out with an expression in her eyes as if she held some dire secret that she must keep from me.  She escorted me around the corner, past the elevator doors, and into a small, common sitting room with windows all around.  This overlooked the front entrance to Onslow Memorial Hospital (Jacksonville, NC).  She went to call the doctor.

After a short while, I was told that my mother was dead.  I don’t recall the exact wording, but dead is dead.  “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”  Or be as offensive.  Or be as inoffensive, as long as it speaks the truth.

Mary Ann stopped by the hospital, this being her current routine after taking her children to school.

Amazon Fire TV

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Not sure what prompted me over the weekend to purchase an Amazon Fire TV box (with game controller). It arrived yesterday afternoon (12/9/14).

I had heard Payam talking about getting his and how fast it was, how easy the setup was, and how well the voice recognition feature worked. He was right!

I just hooked up the HDMI cable (came with it although the documentation said it wasn’t included) to the box and my TV. The little black box is about 5.5“ x 5.5” and about a half inch thick. I hardwired a network cable into it. I didn’t have to enter any authentication info for the network connection. The System also already had my Amazon Prime account so I didn’t have to put that info in the first time. *I say first time because at some point, I was setting up my YouTube account, and the sound went out on all videos. I didn’t know a better fix, so I just reset the whole Fire TV setup, which meant this time I had to manually enter my Amazon Prime account info… and my Netflix account info (which I had done the first time also).

After the reset and completion of the Fire TV setup, the audio was working on all videos, including the YouTube videos. I also connected my YouTube Channel (had to use my phone & browser to activate).

Previously, I have been using my Logitech Revue to view Netflix, and my Chromebook to view my Amazon Prime videos. The Review works well, but the video quality wasn’t 1080p, and the video player for Amazon Prime videos in the Chromebook would regularly fail. But, both Netflix and Amazon Prime videos are crisp (even Goldfinger, James Bond 007) and there is no delay. They have played, for half a day with no hiccups.

I hooked up the game controller and tried one of the games that came with the purchase. I have passed my gaming days. I just don’t want to spend the time to become proficient in playing them as I did when I was younger.

Overally, the Amazon Fire TV is a very good purchase and experience!