| Coming
from an unstable childhood replete with divorce, step-parents,
and a lot of moves, I was at the point in high school where I
had run away from my mother and stepfather who lived in OKC (he
was quite simply a dictator) and gone to Seattle to live with
my bum of a father. Times were rough and I went from middle class
to poverty level. Dad had the usual vices, drinking, drugs, etc
but I was determined to continue excelling in school. It was my
junior year and I was going to a school where I knew no one. My
girlfriend (who played prominently in my running away to Seattle)
dumped me. Times were rough and after a spectacular falling out
with my dad, I moved in with a friend's family near the high school
I wanted to go to (I had gone through junior high in Seattle so
all my friends were there).
Well things did not work out there because Jeff's mother
was, um, difficult. Even looking back on it now, I can say that
I was a good kid running into a string of bad situations, but
I persevered. She kicked me out late one night before Easter
(for having my future wife in my room too late) and I was again
homeless. I found a friend of a friend who let me share his
apartment. I had no car and was taking the bus to work every
night so it was bus to school, then bus to work, then bus home,
study until all hours, get a few hours of sleep, start over.
It went like this for most of my senior year and I was simply
trying to get to the end of the school year.
Part of the "deal" I made with myself to
justify running away after my junior year was that if I didn't
get a college scholarship, I would join the service. My step-father
definitely wasn't going to pay for my education and my father
couldn't even if he wanted to. Then I had to think about which
service. I didn't want to be stuck on a ship forever so the
Navy was out. My brother was in the Army and from what he described,
it didn't appeal to me. I thought there were only two tiers
in the Air Force; either you fly planes or you're a peon. Then
it hit me (I actually remember the very moment), if I was going
to join the service, why half step? If I was going to do it,
I would do it all the way and do the toughest, most rewarding
option. It was at that moment I decided I would become a Marine.
I thought it might just be the courage you get laying in your
bed at night and things would look different in the morning
but they never did.
After the difficult senior year I described above,
I graduated with triple honors (honors, high honors, honor society),
having completed calculus, physics, chemistry, computer classes,
and the like and ending up with a 3.85 GPA. When I signed the
papers earlier in the year, I had to call my mother to get her
signature and I hadn't spoken to her since I ran away. She informed
me that several scholarships had came in including a full ride
to the Naval Academy. But it was too late and the deadlines
had passed for the acceptance. My mother was not happy at all
with my decisions and choices but she did not stand in my way.
BTW, now it's the proudest thing in her life that I'm a Marine.
So by the time I hit boot camp, I was the happiest
recruit on the depot. I was away from the situation that can
only be described as miserable, I was getting fed, clothed,
and housed. Most important, I was doing something honorable
and noble with myself.
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