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Introducing Truman…

Dear Reader:

I’ve shared some of my thoughts with you, but I feel it necessary to give you a little background about myself.

Truman Scott Bashore

I was born on November 9, 1944 at Good Sam in Dayton, and I have a sister Beverly who is retired nurse and lives in Arcanum.  We have grown quite close in the past five years for which I am most grateful.

My parents were Harold and Naomi Bashore.  Dad worked for Aero Products heat treating metals.  Mother was a waitress who, when we were in the sixth grade was in a horrific auto accident coming home from work in Versailles.  She was laid up for almost two months and a steel rod was placed in her hip causing her to limp badly.  However, she did not let that slow her down when it came to taking food orders and delivering them.

The first seven years of my life our family lived on Grandpa Bashore’s farm outside New Madison.  My cousin Neil lived in New Madison, and he use to ride his bike out to the farm where we go and play in the haymow.  Grandpa hada  big rope that was attached to a bail hook so he could load and unload hay and straw as needed.

But for Neil and me, the haymow was our playground and that big rope was used to swing from one side of the barn to the other and of course imitating the Tarzan call!

The hay had another use.  Neil and I would stack the bales high enough to hide behind and we’d take turns shooting arrows from one side of the barn to the other.  Now we may have been young, but we weren’t stupid.  When one was ready to shoot the other would shout “Take Cover!” and we’d drop down while the other shot the arrow into the hay and sometimes over it.  As a result neither of was hurt and we always enjoyed playing in the barn!

One summer Grandpa asked me if I’d like to make money by riding the baler to check that the bales were tied or had not come undone.  On occasion, I would shout “Stop” and we’d clear the hay and continue baling.  On one occasion, it was so hot and I got so sunburned I couldn’t go back to work after lunch.  Grandpa came to me and handed me 50 cents, and I said what’s that for to which he replied, “You worked a half day and so you are entitled to half day’s pay!”

I was also responsible for gathering the cows for milking in the evening and driving them to their stalls.  On one occasion, I set the cows to running back to the barn.  Grandpa, “ kindly” asked me not to do that because it could harm the cows and sour their milk!

My education began at the age of six at New Madison where I attended school for two years.  My third year of class was at Northridge followed by a year at Tipp City.  Finally, in 1955, we settled in Bradford and we became Railroaders!  I always loved football and it was at Bradford that I began to play organized ball which I did for seven years and in 1962, I was the 66th player on the third team honorable mention list!

I mentioned Neil earlier and it was when we were in town at the post office one day that I saw a picture of a Marine and I knew at that instant that one day I would become one.  However, after graduating from high school, my folks wanted me to go to college instead. So, I enrolled at Ohio Northern but was asked to leave because of my low grades.  At that time, it was legal to drink 3.2 beer at the age of 18. Sadly my GPA was .069 which came close to my blood alcohol content! 

And so my friend Max and I enlisted in the Marine Corps and I set off on the journey fostered by that picture in front of the Post Office.  I was 19 and did not need my parent’s permission.  The night before I Ieft for boot camp, I watched the DI starring Jack Webb, and boot camp was everything I knew it would be because of the DI.  In short I survived boot camp and after a 30 day leave, I was sent to Camp Pendleton, and in February of 1965 I shipped out Da Nang Vietnam where 12 hour workdays were the norm and additional 8 hours of guard duty of 2 hours on and 2 hours off.  Finally, in Dec of 65, I was ordered back to the states and after 30 days of leave, I was assigned as a supply clerk and finished my enlistment in San Diego in 1967.

While in San Diego, I had the honor to participate in Marine Corps Flag Pageant which celebrated this history of our flag. We were sent all over California and even a trip to Bozeman, Montana.  At first, I had the role of Teddy Roosevelt until another Marine came along who resembled him more than I.

The most honorable duty I had was Burial Detail.  At times, we had as many three details a day.  I recall burying a full bird colonel, but as the one in charge, I had folded the flag incorrectly. My captain called me on it, but he did tell me that the flag was re-folded before being presented to his family.

My service in the Corps made me eligible for college via the GI Bill, and I earned an AA degree from Glendale JC and transferred to Cal State Los Angeles from which I graduated with BA degree in English and landed a teaching gig at Nimitz Jr. Hi in Huntington Park, Ca. which lasted three years.

One other activity of note is that is that one Easter Break a friend and I rode the Baja down and back in seven days on a Triumph 650 motorcycle.  We rode hard and long and upon my return, I parked the bike and sold to a fellow teacher.

However, after 12 years in LA and teaching Jr. High for three of those years, I grew weary of the city so, my friend Bill Mixell and I decided to bicycle the Baja.  We left in February and arrived at Cabo San Lucas in April.  That this was an adventure goes without saying.  We had saddle bags on both sets of rims, the seat and the rear. 

When we started out, we did between 25-30 miles a day but eventually we made it up to sixty miles a day.  The best part of this was we filled our bags full of tortillas, peanut butter, some type of fruit and plenty of water.  However, when we would come across a village with a place that served food, we made it a point fill up on eggs, bacon, and tortillas.  And before heading out again, we’d resupply with more tortillas, fruit, and peanut butter and of course more water.

Once we got to Cabo, my bike fell apart and so I gave it to a kid who was happy to get it and repair it.  Our goal was to ride all the way to Ecuador but since I had no bike, I hitched a ride on a 28’ sloop with Bruce who sailed us across the Sea of Cortez to Guadalajara where we went our separate ways. 

At which point, I began hitchhiking north through Mexico up to Brownsville, Texas h to New Orleans where I attended the first New Orleans Jazz Festival. This was very entertaining, but after that, it was time to move on with the goal of visiting my mother in Wheeling, West Virginia.  This involved a bus trip across the south and north to Wheeling, West Virginia.  My sister and her husband came down from Gettysburg, Ohio and took me to their house.

Bill, on the other hand, continued his bike ride to Ecuador and then headed back to his home in Lompoc, Ca.

In 1983, I moved from Ohio to St Louis where I taught English at Chaminade College Prep. Knowing I would need a Master’s Degree, I applied to St. Louis University and was accepted. More importantly, because I taught at a Catholic school, the university gave me 2/3 off on my tuition. So, for $200 per semester plus books, I earned my Masters Degree in English.

I am currently a writing instructor at Edison State College in Greenville and have been with Edison for 16 years.  I enjoy watching the students’ from the first day of the semester until the last.  On the last day of class, I always ask the students if they are better writers now than they were at the beginning of the course.  And the answer is always the same.  “Yes!”-and then I ask in what ways.  “You have taught us how to state a thesis and how to support it with specific details and bring the essay to a logical conclusion.

In retrospect, I have been fortunate to have good health, to travel and earn a college degree. but I am proud to have been an English teacher for over 35 years-So don’t  dangle your participle because I’ll know it when I see or hear it

And that my friends is the Truman Story, and I am sticking to it.

EDITOR: Truman Bashore is one of CNO’s newest columnists. His first published column is The Voting Rights Act
 


 
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