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Chapter 4

1974 – 1979

Nancy and I were married on Saturday, February 1, 1975 in the First Foursquare Church in Guymon, Oklahoma. It was a memorable weekend that began with the Rehearsal Dinner on Friday evening. My brother John was my Best Man, and Nancy’s sister Judy was her Maid of Honor. Saturday morning all the men in the wedding party traveled to Leo and Lit Hall’s home on their ranch south of town. She graciously served a bountiful country breakfast of steak and eggs, bacon and sausage, biscuits and gravy, fruit and coffee. I remember reading her father’s diary (her father was Charlie Hitch, uncle of Henry Hitch who was inducted into the Cowboy Hall of Fame in Oklahoma City) of pioneering to the Oklahoma Panhandle, or “No Man’s Land” in the 1890s, bringing his family in a conestoga wagon to the very land where the house stood, to homestead. Clarence had worked for Leo and Lit in the early 1950s, and Lit always adored Nancy. The wedding ceremony was at 6 p.m., and I was more than a little nervous. I kept wondering if I was selfless enough to have a relationship with another person, every day! Nancy surprised me by singing a solo to me, and she was a truly beautiful bride. Nancy’s Uncle Phil Demetro officiated. We took pictures after the ceremony, then traveled the twenty miles back to Hitchland for the reception at Jean and Clarence’s house. Nancy and I left around 9 p.m., drove to Amarillo where we spent our wedding night at the Hilton Inn. The next day started our drive to Denver where we honeymooned for about five days. We were so practical, we would rather save our money for furniture than spend it on an expensive trip.

We set up our first home at 1026 Eisenhower Circle, Apartment #5, Junction City, Kansas. It was about 900 square feet, two bedroom unfurnished, and rented for $170/month. I began my first Army posting as a Second Lieutenant at nearby Fort Riley, Kansas. We visited churches until we found one that we liked - First Christian Church in Junction City. A couple in their late 40s, Bob and Marge Ingmire, became our surrogate parents. They had two girls Judy and Nancy’s ages, and Bob and Marge were a real blessing in our lives. They would invite us over for Sunday dinner, take us out water skiing on Milford Lake, and were always there when we needed them. We joined a bible study group through the OCF (Officers Christian Fellowship) at the invitation of our next door neighbors, Joan and Ed Fowler. Also newly married and about our ages, Joan and Ed were Charismatic Christians and great spiritual role models. A job, possessions, clothes, or furniture held no attraction for them, rather, knowing God and enjoying His presence was their reason for living.

After graduation from West Point, I attended the Field Artillery Officer Basic Course at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, from September - December 1974. I lived in one of the high rise BOQs (Bachelor Officer Quarters) on post. The course’s Program of Instruction emphasized three major topics. The first was Field Artillery Gunnery as outlined in FM 6-40, the Artilleryman’s bible. This was the pre-computer Army, so all calculations to determine the direction and altitude of the cannon, and the distance to the target, were made manually using a type of slide rule. The second topic was learning the primary function of a Field Artillery Second Lieutenant, that of being a Forward Observer. Computers and satellites are now used to determine the map coordinates of the target, but my generation had to rely on map reading and gauging distances visually using binoculars. We spent alot of time on the firing range practicing the “Call for Fire”, directing and adjusting the shells fired from the cannons several miles to our rear. The third topic was understanding the operation and maintenance of the M109 Howitzer, a self-propelled 155mm cannon.


On December 15, 1974 I signed in at Fort Riley, Kansas for my first Army assignment, to the 1st Battalion, 5th Field Artillery, 1st Infantry Division. 1st ID had 15,000 men and organized:

1st Brigade 1/2 Inf, 1/28 Inf, and 1/63 Armor.

2nd Brigade 1/18 Inf, 2/63 Armor, and 4/63 Armor.

Division Artillery 1/5 FA and 1/7 FA (both 155mm) and 3/6 FA (8”).

Division Support 1/4 Cavalry, 1st Supply and Transport, 1st Medical, 121st Signal,

1st Engineer , and the 701st Maintenance.



The 1/5 FA had 37 officers and 500 enlisted men. A,B and D Firing Batteries each had six M109 Howitzers. There was also a Service Battery which transported the ammunition (the artillery shells and powder bags) food and gasoline when we were in the field on maneuvers, and Headquarters Battery which included the Battalion Commander, the Executive Officer or XO, the S1/Personnel section, the S2/Intelligence section, the S3/Operations section, and the S4/Supply section. I was assigned to A Battery as a Forward Observer and Battery Maintenance Officer. There were four major events that highlighted our training year. The most important was the Battalion Test, conducted over a three days and two nights in the field, in which inspecting officers from Division staff would present us with various combat scenarios and grade our responses. For instance, at 1 a.m. we would get a ‘march order’ to move all our equipment and men, using blackout drive, to another location several miles away. During the road march we would invariably be attacked by an opposing force, and have to deploy our unit to meet that threat. We would be timed to see how long it would take us to pull into the new position and how long before the first rounds were fired downrange. The second major event was the Nuclear Weapons Inspection. Our battalion had the capability to fire tactical nuclear projectiles each of which could effectively destroy one square mile. I was Alpha Battery’s Special Weapons Officer, which meant that I had a team of four EMs and a Sergeant who would assemble and disassemble the various components that made up a Nuclear 155mm projectile. I was granted a Top Secret security clearance after the FBI did a thorough background investigation on me. Another officer and I would be graded on decoding cryptic messages which gave authorization from the President to launch these weapons, and specified the target’s map coordinates and the size of the explosion. This type of inspection had zero tolerance, and if an officer made a mistake, he was usually cashiered out of the Army. The third major event was the Annual IG, or visit by the Inspector General. The first two events evaluated the unit’s combat readiness, the IG evaluated the unit’s compliance with Army Regulations concerning the Mess Hall, Barracks cleanliness, Motor Pool procedures, individual qualification on the M-16 rifle and M-60 Machine Gun, and CBR (Chemical, Biological and Radiation) training. The fourth and most exciting event was REFORGER, or Redeployment of Forces to Germany. Each October and November the 1st ID was evaluated to test its readiness to deploy to Germany to provide the initial reinforcements for U.S. Army units stationed there which would be expected to be overrun by a surprise Soviet military invasion of Western Europe. The 1st ID had tanks, howitzers, trucks and jeeps prepositioned in secret underground storage locations in West Germany, and our mission was to fly to Germany, get in our assigned vehicles and speed off to battle positions in the Fulda Gap to try to stop the Soviets. In 1975 for instance, the 1/5 FA loaded up in C-140 cargo planes at an Air Force Base in Salina, Kansas, flew to Mannheim, Germany, and immediately went to the field to participate in war games, that year the British and West Germans against the Canadians and Americans. The maneuvers lasted twelve days, we went without showers, shaved each morning using cold water in our helmets, ate boxes of C-rations, and slept sitting up in our howitzers or jeeps. One time we were out of drinking water, and as we were driving through a small farming village I ordered my jeep driver to stop and I gave a woman who was working outside her home two of our canteens. In a few minutes she returned from inside her home and gave the canteens back to us, and as we drove off we started drinking only to realize that what she had given us was homemade wine! When I returned to my battery and told my First Sergeant, he grinned and quickly gathered up as many containers as he could, and he and the other sergeants went back to that village for some more “water”! Another time I hadn’t eaten in two days because there hadn’t been enough food for the officers. Around 9 p.m. 2LT Joe Lindsey and I drove a jeep into a nearby farming village to have supper at a Gasthaus. It was crowded with local farmers sitting around drinking beer, and no one spoke English. We ordered a meal as best we could, sitting there in dirty combat fatigues, and I happened to look on the wall next to our table. I saw a neatly framed collage of photographs of young men in German military uniforms, obviously from that village, who had been killed in World War II. Talk about feeling awkward - I realized that those men from that village weren’t Nazis, they were just patriots who went off to war to defend their country. During that 1975 REFORGER, the Cincinnati Reds and Boston Red Sox played their memorable World Series. Each evening one of the games was played the NATO General Staff wisely called an administrative halt to the war, and from about midnight to 3 a.m. we would be buttoned up in our howitzers under blackout conditions, and listen to the games broadcast over Armed Forces Radio. (In 1980 at the National Finals Rodeo in Oklahoma City I saw Johnny Bench, the Hall of Fame catcher who played for the Reds in that Series, sitting in the stands as a spectator. I went up to him, introduced myself, and related that story, and his face lit up to hear the impact those games had, to even “stop a war”!) After the war games concluded, we went to Grafenwohr, which was a Panzer training center in WWII. It was eerie to see Nazi swastikas still engraved in certain parts of the barracks where we stayed, and to think that on this very post many Panzer units trained which in 1939 blitzkrieged into Poland, in 1940 invaded France, and in 1941 attacked Russia.
I was the Alpha Battery Executive Officer, or XO, from July through November 1976, and it was one of the high points of my life. The Battalion Commander during that time was LTC Leonard A. Eason, a highly demanding, uncompromising, technically competent field officer who forcefully resisted the mediocrity of the post Viet-Nam U.S. Army. A little background is that in the mid 1970s Congress voted to cut off aid to South Viet-Nam and also slashed the budget for the U.S. military. My years in the Army were plagued with inadequate funding for repair parts, which meant that our vehicles could barely run to get out of the motor pool. We were constantly frustrated by demands of those four major events I described, and equipment that was always dead lined. Discipline among the troops was difficult because the caliber of the enlisted man was so low. A high school diploma wasn’t required, so we had men who could barely read or write. Drug use was so rampant that at least once a week I would walk through the barracks and find men smoking marijuana, and have them arrested and then issue an Article 15 under the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Racial tensions were also high. The other Academy graduates from the Class of 1974 and I were in shock, disillusioned at the gap between the ideals of West Point and the reality of the Army. Eason used to tell me that an officer’s standards should never be influenced by his environment; that is, an officer should never lower his personal standards or expectations for excellence just because of inadequate resources. Before Eason took command, the sergeants had lost all respect for officers, because Majors and Colonels would lie about the status of their vehicles on monthly unit readiness reports, for fear of adverse Officer Efficiency Reports if they told the truth. Eason, however, always told the truth on those reports, and it cost him his career, because he was forced to retire in November 1976 when he had completed his twenty years. I shall always remember Lieutenant Colonel Eason as a true Army line officer, not a politician or technocrat who masquerades in a uniform.
Eason’s successor had spent too much time in staff jobs, and too little time with line units. Within two weeks of taking command, he relieved me as XO of A Battery. It was a devastating and humiliating blow, but to be honest, I brought alot of it on myself. Whenever faced with mediocrity, I responded emotionally rather than calmly, I was confrontational, and would complain about the unprofessionalism of the officer corps. The new Bn Cdr viewed this as unacceptable behavior for someone with sensitive Nuclear Weapons responsibilities, and he had me reassigned to DivArty S-4. To my pleasant surprise, all of the officers in 1/5 FA went to him and told him he had made a drastic mistake, that I was one of the best officers they had ever served with, and he, the new Bn Cdr, just didn’t comprehend the depth of the problems line units faced, and the unorthodox methods officers had to use just to get the job done. Interestingly, within four months of this incident, I was back in the battalion as Asst. S-3 and the Battalion Special Weapons Convoy Officer, successfully taking the battalion through our Nuclear Weapons Inspection in May 1977. I realized, however, that when faced with problems I had to remain calm, be patient with subordinates, keep my opinions to myself, and do the best I could with what was within my influence. I needed a change, and this coupled with the problems Nancy and I were facing led me to request reassignment to Korea.
On July 2, 1977 I landed in Kimpo Military Airport outside Seoul, South Korea. I in-processed for two days, then got a bus to Camp Page, near the city of Chun Chon, which is located just south of the DMZ. At Camp Page the 4th Missile Command had administrative responsibility for the 1/42 Honest John Rocket Battery, 4th Support Company, 117th Aviation Company (UH-1 “Huey” helicopters), 226th Signal Company, and the Weapons Support Detachment (WSD). I was assigned to WSD which consisted of seven Nuclear Support Teams, each of which comprised a 1st Lieutenant, a Staff Sergeant, and four enlisted men. The ROK (Republic of Korea) Army had artillery units with nuclear capability, but all nuclear weapons remained under the control of the U.S. Army. Therefore, if the North Koreans attacked, each of the seven WSD teams would transport either 155mm or 8” nuclear projectiles out to ROK Artillery batteries, where my team would assemble the projectile, do the gunnery calculations, and perform loading and firing procedures on the ROK howitzer. Each week my team would take the two helicopters assigned to me, and transport simulation projectiles out to ROK Artillery batteries in field locations all over the countryside of South Korea. It was an interesting assignment, especially when I pulled duty at the post Emergency Action Facility, a bomb-proof bunker where I had to monitor cryptic nuclear weapons message traffic. The presence of a “red telephone” with a direct line to the War Room at the Pentagon added a touch of drama to this Cold War era environment.
I lived in a Quonset hut with another 1st Lieutenant, Tim Peterson who was also a 1974 USMA graduate. I led Tim to the Lord the second week we were there, so we became real close. We had bible studies together, played racquetball, ran, and conducted missions together. Everyone viewed me as the most technically competent officer in the unit, and Tim was the best leader. From the first day in WSD I tried to implement the lessons I learned the hard way back at Fort Riley. I was calmer, less confrontational, complained less, and more positive. I tried to get reassigned to the 2/17 FA in the 2nd Infantry Division so I could get some more XO time with a line unit, but the 4 MSL CMD Commander, a full Colonel denied my request. He didn’t think line duty was that important to one’s career, in fact, it was harmful because the risk was high for mistakes, and it didn’t provide visibility with Congressmen, Senators, and Pentagon staff officers who could help your promotion to General. He also implied that troop duty was all rote, therefore intelligent officers needed a greater challenge in a job. I sat in his office listening to him make these comments, and I thought to myself, ‘You are precisely the kind of self-serving officer Eason warned me about, and if this is the mindset of Colonels and Generals, then I don’t fit in’. Maybe I’m too ordinary, but I loved being a line officer, working with troops in the field, the thrill of being part of a unit occupying a position at 2 a.m., under cover of darkness, with ground guides leading the howitzers into their positions. I would be out in front “laying the battery”, or aligning the cannon tubes parallel using an Aiming Circle, a type of survey instrument. Men would be stringing out commo wire so I could talk on field telephones to the crew chiefs in each howitzer, while the Fire Direction Center was calculating the elevation and quadrant numbers to give to the guns. After laying the battery I would start walking around checking the status of the projectiles, fuzes and powder bags, emplacement of the collimeters, machine gun positions sketching their overlapping fields of fire, and establishing communication with Battalion Headquarters to handle Emergency Message Traffic. Sitting across from that Colonel I suddenly realized that all that was considered a necessary but disagreeable “ticket to be punched” for those officers who want promotion, but to me it was the whole essence and joy of being an Artillery Officer.

I therefore called the Department of the Army and told them I would resign my commission on June 5, 1979 when I had fulfilled my obligation. During the first six months in Korea I had lost weight, going from 185 lbs. to 160 lbs. by the time I finally returned from Korea in June, 1978. Our last year in the Army I was assigned to TCATA (TRADOC Combined Arms Testing Agency), at Fort Hood, Texas, during which time I applied to work at the First National Bank of Amarillo. I had no idea what career I wanted to pursue, but I figured that spending time at a bank would give me an overview of business in general, and after a few years I would have a clearer idea what I wanted to do. I interviewed at First National, and was hired as a Credit Analyst for $13,000/year, taking quite a pay cut from the $24,000 I was making in the Army. I went to summer school at West Texas State University in nearby Canyon, Texas, the 1st and 2nd summer school sessions to complete basic accounting and finance courses necessary for my new job as a credit analyst.


I ran the Dallas White Rock Marathon on Saturday, December 2, 1978, completing the 26.2 miles in 3 hours and 51 minutes. With over 4,000 entrants it was quite a colorful spectacle, and the athletic ambiance of the occasion buoyed me up to the 20th mile, where I abandoned any illusions that I was having fun as I “hit the wall”. My legs felt like mashed potatoes with no sensation whatsoever of muscle tone. Although my breathing never became labored, my lower back unexpectedly began aching. I feared that five months of dedicated preparation covering over 1,000 training miles got me to the 23rd mile, but no further, and I’d be forced to drop out of the race. It was at that moment that I realized how much I really wanted to accomplish this goal. The reason I finished the last three miles of that marathon in Dallas was that I had worked too hard to quit. I collapsed at the finish line, totally debilitated and nearly dehydrated. My feet were bleeding (I ran in the Adidas “Country” all- leather shoes, now archaic). Three hours, two Cokes, three Hershey candy bars and a steaming bath later my body finally started to relax. My love of running came full circle years later when Kambry started to run on her own at about age 15. We would run seven miles together each Saturday morning, and in 1998 started running races together. I would give her pointers such as to how handle hills and how to pace yourself at the beginning of the race. I look forward to a 10k Race one day when I am 75 and she is 45 years old!

Chapter 5

1979 – 1984

In June, 1979, we moved to Amarillo, Texas, where we bought our first home at 4004 Lynette Drive, a 1,750 SF three bedroom brick house for $48,000. I worked at First National Bank of Amarillo, and Nancy teaching music at Paramount Elementary School and piano lessons in our home. In April 1981, we began attending Trinity Fellowship Church in Amarillo, a charismatic body of about five hundred people. Larry and Devi Titus were the new pastors, and they had an immediate impact on both our lives. Larry modeled and taught on the husband as the Servant-Leader, truths I had never seen or heard before. Devi in her Women’s Bible Studies gave Nancy clarity and balance to her confusion over excesses Nancy observed growing up Pentecostal. Nancy was the Choir Director, and derived personal fulfillment from church, and more importantly, becoming a mother when Kambry was born in 1981, and then when Ashlyn was born in 1984.


Kambry was born on Monday August 17, 1981 at 5:08 p.m. at the High Plains Baptist Hospital in Amarillo. When the delivery room nurse laid her on a nearby table, I leaned over her and whispered “Hello Kambry, I’m your Daddy.” A moment later they let Nancy hold her, and that was a thrilling sight to see Nancy’s joy holding her firstborn child. The nurses then put a cheap dressing gown and knit cap on her little head, and I unknowingly planted the seeds of her becoming a fashionista when I said to her “Kambry, this is the last tacky outfit you will ever wear in your life!” Nancy and I were excited the day we got to take her home, but were a little apprehensive because there would be no one around to give us advice on how to care for an infant. The next Sunday Nancy took Kambry to church, and everyone fell in love with her, and commented how much jet black hair she had. About two months later during a Sunday evening service, I had just fed Kambry her bottle, and put her on my shoulder to burp her. The pastor just then started to pray, so the whole congregation became silent. In the middle of the prayer, Kambry let out what seemed to be the loudest, deepest burp ever heard, and everyone near us started giggling uncontrollably with heads bowed and eyes still closed. It was so funny. Nancy and I had an agreement that Sunday through Thursday nights she would get up in the middle of the night to feed Kambry when she started crying, and I would get up Friday and Saturday nights since I didn’t have to work the next day. Sure I was tired, but it was such an intimate feeling to hold her in my arms in the rocking chair in our living room, with the room so quiet and dark, and the only sounds were Kambry sucking on the bottle, and pausing to take an occasional breath. Those are moments I shall always treasure.
As Nancy was being wheeled into the delivery room on Monday March 9, 1984 at 8:22 a.m. at the High Plains Baptist Hospital, we still hadn’t decided between Ashlyn or Bethany if it was a girl, but had agreed on Marshall if it was a boy. Nancy told me to pick the name when the baby was born. When Dr. Williams held her up for Nancy and me to see, I thought that this little girl just looked like an Ashlyn. When the delivery nurse laid her on a nearby table, I leaned over her and whispered “Good morning Ashlyn, I’m your Daddy.” The most striking feature was her big, bright eyes. All the nurses commented on how beautiful her eyes were, and how one day they would melt boy’s hearts! When we took her home, it was amazing how much she spit up after taking her bottle. It is a wonder that she gained any weight at all. Sometimes I had to change shirts two to three times a day because Ashlyn would spit up all over me. One night I was rocking her and , as usual, she spit up, but this time it went all over the rocking chair, so I had to get Nancy out of bed to help me clean it up. As early as six months old Ashlyn figured out how to cross her eyes. She knew we would all start laughing, and she must have enjoyed being the center of attention, because she would cross her eyes whenever there was a crowd of people looking at her - what an actress! Nancy took the girls home to Guymon for ten days in the summer of 1985 while I stayed here and worked. It was night when they returned, so I was home. They got out of the car, came into the kitchen where I kissed Nancy, then Kambry, but Ashlyn hugged me and held me tight, and didn’t want to let go. She just held on, and I was so touched by her longing for the security of my arms that I walked with her out in the front yard and just stood there with her, not wanting that moment to ever end. Isn’t that interesting, one hug so many years ago is one of the fondest memories of my life.
I began work at FNB Amarillo on August 17, 1979. Since these were the days before personal computers, my first job was to take the balance sheet and income statement from companies that borrowed money from us, and perform ratio analysis to determine if that company could reasonably repay the debt. I continued to attend West Texas State University using the GI Bill two nights/week through May 1983 when I completed my MBA (Master’s degree in Business Administration). I was promoted to Commercial Loan Officer in September 1981, and handled loans for oil & gas exploration, apartment construction, and wholesalers in the Amarillo area. I got a great foundation in banking due to working with two excellent mentors, Don Powell who would eventually become Chairman, CEO and President of the bank (in 2001 he was selected by President Bush to be the Chairman of the FDIC in Washington D.C., and in 2005 President Bush asked Don to coordinate the federal relief of New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina), and Pete Dallas. I know that the Lord brought these two quality men into my life who really cared about me, professionally and personally. They invested alot of time showing me technical aspects about lending, taking me with them on customer calls, including me in decisions, and giving me responsibility. Their greatest gift however was the brutal honesty in coaching me about my lack of tact in customer and employee relationships. I no longer reacted emotionally, and always remained calm, but I hadn’t yet learned patience. When I saw either an employee or customer who didn’t grasp what I thought was an elementary truth, I tried to force the issue. I was too intense, and it showed. Don and Pete kept telling me to relax, and not be so direct. I made the mistake of openly questioning what I considered fundamental management principles that bank leadership was neglecting. In 1984 First National Bank of Amarillo started charging off millions of $ of bad loans, and the Federal Bank Examiners came close to closing the bank for mismanagement in precisely those areas I called attention to years before. Regardless of the accuracy of my observations, I was wrong in how I approached the matter. I did so with arrogance, impatience, and borderline insubordination. I faced a dilemma of many young workers, ‘what do you do when you don’t agree with your boss?’ At a minimum, I should have been more respectful of Don and Pete as my authority. I should have been more loyal, and not talked about them behind their backs. I should have rested in the Lord, trusting Him to resolve the conflict rather than me trying to force my solution. Pete approved my attendance at the Southwestern Graduate School of Banking at Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Class 26, a three-year program which I completed in 1985.
By early 1984 it was apparent that I would not be considered for promotion, so I began looking for another job. I interviewed and received offers from three out-of-state banks, but none of those jobs seemed to be the Lord’s will, so I waited. Then in October I received a call from a headhunter about a position in Little Rock. I came here, interviewed and really liked the bank, the city, and believed this was God’s will for our lives.



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