Chapter 1
Just A Regular Kid From Ohio Padua
Franciscan
High School in
Parma, Ohio has tuition fees to rival any
university,
struggled
yet
and
my
parents
somehow
scraped
enough together to send me there, a private Catholic school for boys. The absence
of girls really didn't
phase
me too much because I was engrossed Sociology, and Political Science. survived Algebra, and tolerated interesting course
I took
Religion" which exposed
in my studies, especially History,
I had a terrible aversion to Chemistry, my Latin classes. But by far, the most
in my four years at
Padua was "Comparative
me for the first time in my life to the fact that
not everyone in the world was Catholic and caucasian! in a bleached
white
suburb
of Parma
Indeed, growing up
on the outskirts
of Cleveland,
I can't even recall meeting anyone from another race or creed until high school and I remember the look of horror on my father's brought
home
that moment
a new
friend
I made
prejudices,
where
impeccably
honest and pillars of integrity.
including policemen
my
tolerant
another
Charles
I attended
yet
world and
Until
free
politicians
of were
Sadly, I got my first dose of
reality from my own father. Thankfully, and objective.
when I
who happened to be black.
I had been living in a white idealistic everyone
face
mother
was
Catholic
a
bit more
school
(St.
Borremeo Elementary School) where by age seven Catholoc
dogma had been drilled into me by the nuns to the point where recite a good portion of the Bible by memory. like most everyone
in this world,
I could
Like most Americans and
I did not get to choose
my religion,
I 1
inherited it automatically
from my family when
I was
born into
this
world. Today I am almost a Christian, in ideals anyway - by my own choice, but I will never subject my children to the same private Catholic schooling I experienced.
They will have a choice about their own creed.
Padua High School had a good reputation for turning out successful people and still does. Our alumni include many judges, politicians, and entrepreneurs who did well in life. As kids I remember the “Tower Challenge”. A group of us decided that only people who took risks in life succeeded, much like the famous Robin Williams movie “Dead Poet’s Society”. To show that we were pledged to succeed we all demonstrated that we were willing to take risks by c limbing the 1,000 meter TV tower behind our high school and attaching our class of 72 flag at the pinnacle. Perhaps three of four groups of seniors did it before we got caught, some students were suspended and the TV Station built a 10 foot fence around the tower. But I can still remember the spectacular view and only regret that I did not take a camera with me.
Actually, I went to two high schools – at the same time actually. I also attended Normandy High School, which was the top vocational school in Ohio at the time. I attended drafting classes there every morning so that one day I could become an architect.
I always admired skyscrapers and long fancy bridges as a kid but
always thought they could look more modern, futuristic, and appealing.
By
learning drafting, I had planned for my future profession in architectural design. Mr. Mike Yackin was our teacher and he taught me well. I have designed my own home which I have never had the money to build, and I have also designed an underwater resort and marine sanctuary that I would like to build in China before I die. But attending Normandy made me miss my lunch hour as I had to walk to Padua, about two miles away in time for afternoon classes at 1:00. 2
Normandy High School is where I spent my mornings for two years of high school
Attending school gave me my first exposure to girls where I would meet my first sweetheart Karen Butler at Normandy Fiday night football game, except she was from Parma Senior High, our opponent. Having two high schools gave me a great social life with always some high school activity to attend. Padua was famous for our “double-decker” dance night where we had two bands playing at the same time – one in the main floor auditorium and one in the basement cafeteria. If you were a high schooler in Parma in the late 60s and 70s, Padua dances is where you went to meet your first love. Mine was a great gal. She was beautiful, humorous, and perhaps a bit impulsive. Most of all she was fun and sexy and although we gave each other our virginity and vowed to marry she died in a horrible car accident only three years after we first met. I did not even date another girl for three years after she passed. I still miss her loyal friendship today.
Our family wasn’t poor, but both my mom and dad had to work to keep the bills paid and raise me.
In fact, my father often worked two jobs as an
institutional food salesman, and as a sports umpire and referee, and then later as an entrepreneur and investor, although he got a late start in that regard. My mom spent over twenty years waiting tables and being a Hostess at one 3
of Cleveland’s most historic restaurants Called Pete’s Wayside Inn. It was not a fancy place but one where local politicians and lawyers met to work out zoning
issues and problems. The food was good, servings ample and my mom was quite popular there where she was simply known as “Marty”. spoiled
me quite well,
brothers and sisters.
but I would
have preferred
As an only child, they less toys and more
I would need the trusted allies found only within a
family in years to come.
I grew up in a house my dad built for my mom that looks like the one below which is actually our neighbor’s home on Gilbert Avenue. Our family home was stolen by a cooked lawyer in 2006 (explained in another chapter) Most people from 4
Parma die in Parma, and on our street today perhaps half of the residents half lived there all their lives. I was one of the few who flew from the nest before age twenty.
As
a child
by the
I remember
nuns
being
told
at school that policemen
were our friends, people to go to if we had a problem. They could always be trusted
to protect
us.
reassured o f this every cruiser
would
drive
the pronouncement SERVE".
time
I was a
police
by and
I read
painted on the side of the car "TO
It was disrespectful
PROTECT
AND
for me to call a policeman anything other
than "officer" or "sir" and like most young boys, I looked up to these guys and hoped they always caught the "bad guys". Every Sunday night I would watch Ephram Zimbelist Jr. portray the noble FBI agent on TV, and I simply assumed
all FBI agents were cut from the
same
cloth.
inconceivable t o me that they could ever be the "bad guys".
It was My own
son will not be so blindly misled by this father. Life's realities are not always
a
experiences
Norman
Rockwell
in life could
painting, and
I think many of my horrible
have been avoided
had I not been raised in a
religious environment where only ideals were taught and not the realities of life. I never even heard the word sixteen
years
of
my
"corruption"
for
life. Perhaps our children
the should
first
fifteen
or
read as many
newspapers as fairy tales, so as not to be as shocked by reality as I was.
5
My dad was an avid baseball player and fanatic. He played professional baseball in his youth and was in development with the New York Giants and was gaining personal fame for his speed and base stealing abilities. But he and his dad bought a butcher shop in New York (a few years before I was even born) and just met my mom before the Giants announced they would be moving to San Francisco. My dad chose to remain with his b utcher shop investment and my mom – lucky for me!
Ironically, the New York Giants won the World
Championship the year I was born and years later I would find the team photo sent to my dad from Willy Mays that said “To Ray, Wish you were here – Willy” I always found that photo to be a contradiction as I had always thought my dad to have a tint of racism in his blood. Perhaps baseball made him more color blind. But growing up, I was well trained in the fine art of baseball and played on the best team in Parma. I was No. 8 and the center fielder for the “Blackhawks”. I wore my gold and black jersey with great pride. We had an awesome team that went undefeated two years in a row and I think my dad secretly wanted me to finish the professional baseball career that he had started.
When my dad passed away in 1974, I did not recognize nor even know the name Dusty Roads, but he visited the funeral home and talked with me for about ten minutes like an uncle – mostly about baseball. He said my dad could have bee n a baseball great, but as he said “Love got in the way.” He told me my father was “the quickest base stealer he ever knew and that he was given the nick name in the minor league of “running deer”. After he left I was told by my mom that Dusty was once one of my dad’s mentors when he was playing ball and how proud my dad was to introduce her to him at the Polo Grounds after some try-outs. But since they were both competing for the same guy, I’m not sure how they took to 6
one another back in the 50s, I regret that I do not have my family album here in China, but my mother was stunning with movie star looks and curves. Had she been taller, she could have been a model. My dad scored a home run with her, as she would sometimes have to remind him. Bob Lemon, Herb Score, and Bob Feller of the Cleveland Indians also came to the funeral home.
When I was a kid, my dad twice arranged for me to be a bat boy for the Cleveland Indian just for two games in 1960 and again in 1963, just so I could “feel the big leagues.” It was exciting for sure as I got to meet Rocky Colavito, Vic Davilio, Gary Bell, Norm Cash, Herb Score, Sam McDowell, and “Mudcat”. At age six I caught the baseball bug. My mom always said that she was a mistress because my dad’s true love was baseball. As my dad told me two months after he invested in the “Swift Premium Meats” butcher shop, he was called up from the farm team. He said he actually cried for an hour. I think my mom convinced him that a family was more important than the $9,000 contract he was offered because he didn’t change his mind.
My dad was one of the founders of PAAF (Parma Amateur Athletic Federation) which put Parma on the National map as “The Softball Capital Of America” and brought the National Softball Championships to Parma along with his best friend Lenny Jindra. Coaching my own son’s baseball team in Canada really brought back fond memories of how my dad spent an hour every day after work teaching me the intricacies of a proper swing of the bat, stealing a base, sliding home, and catching and throwing on the run. I have to admit, he was that good. In 1993 he was ironically inducted into the American Softball Hall of Fame, not for his playing skills, but for being one of the best umpires in America. The photo of “Ray 7
Gorcyca” on the internet is not of the best quality, but at least he left his mark for my grandchildren to see one day. I was truly impressed most about my dad at his funeral when I counted 89 cars in the funeral procession. I had no clue he had so many friends. I just wish I had been one of them before he passed.
My dad and his friends brought National Softball Championships to Parma.
Sitting
in my comparative
religion
class
was
both
fascinating
and
enlightening for me, especially after I saw how it correlated with my history classes. could
So many historical events, entire world
be traced
to religious
disputes
of various
economies, and wars severity. The "Glorious
Crusades" horrified me however, and I could never justify no r reco ncile how any God could sanction such a slaughter and my curiosity got the best of me.
I started reading other books by authors of many religious
and found much different
perspectives
of the very same event.
belief Thus I
learned my very first lesson in what I now call "Perspective Analysis" and it changed the way I thought for the rest of my life.
I could never again
look at any issue without taking at least three or four different points of view into consideration.
For years I was adamantly against abortion and
would condemn anyone who even attempted to argue in favor of it. But as 8
I matured. I found myself putting myself in the hypothetical situation of a mother who was and
raped,
recently
widowed, or imperiled
by the
birth,
I suddenly became more tolerant and realized the world is never really
just black or white.
No country is pure
"wrong" - even my own. Likewise, of September perspective.
11,. 2001
and
good or evil,
nor "right" or
I can now look at the horrible events understand
more
than
the American
I graduated in 1972 from Padua, not knowing where my life
would lead me but with a feeling of confidence that I was prepared for anything the world had to offer. In retrospect, I was the epitome of naivete.
But none of these issues really affected my own life, and of course it was easy for me to offer gratuitous But that all changed in Vietnam.
commentary
on other people's problems.
when my friends started getting drafted to go fight
Kent State was only a hour drive from Parma and the true story
and full impact of Vietnam War had yet to surface.
Like most Americans I
wanted a decisive victory and just assumed that the war our nation was waging was for a good and justifiable cause or we wouldn't the first place. I even found myself supporting
be there in
the war in a "letter to the
Editor" of the Cleveland Press.
But one fine morning, a buddy of mine called to tell me he just received his draft notice and wanted to know if I wanted to buy his GTO.
I was suddenly
and rudely awakened to the fact that in less than six months I'd turn 18 and might just find myself sitting in some rice patty or jungle fighting this war. Would I really be capable of democracy?
killing
total
strangers
in the
name
of
I grew consumed with the thought and found it difficult to
think of anything else. serve my country.
After all, I was an American and born with a duty to
Surely I thought myself to be true blue and patriotic but I
still could not relish the thought of killing people.
Strangely enough,
I 9
never thought that I myself could actually be killed in such a war, after all high school graduates
are invincible
you know!
I fe lt compelled to
serve m y country even though I never received a draft notice.
I broached the subject with my father, and for the first time in my life, realized that he too had faced the same decisions
in his youth during the Korean
War and he enlisted in the U.S. Coast Guard, an entity I didn't even knew existed.
I suddenly
search and rescue
became missions
intrigued were
with the Coast
Guard
whose
to save people instead of killing them.
This unique concept appealed to me and as luck would have it, a neighbor down the street just happened to be a Coast Guard recruiter. spent a full day enticing captivated
me with the promise
Allan B o r i s
of adventure
and
I was
by the idea of plying the deep blue seas and plucking victims
from the mouth of death. I could serve my country without killing anyone. Perfect. I had solved my first ethical dilemma in life although my mom did not like my decision at all.
My friends thought paying
I was nuts, especially since at age 17, I had a high-
management
trainee
job
with
Republic
Steel
in Cleveland,
on the day shift no less, which they all envied and would kill for.
I was an
assistant production scheduler in the 72" roll mill and it was my job to ensure
"production
introduced
efficiency"
to Republic
a
job
I was promoted
to after being
Steel as a mere mail clerk for six months.
But
spending the rest of my life in the dark hot caverns of a smelly steel mill really didn't do much for my ego and desire for adventure.
I wanted my
life to be meaningful somehow, and the U.S. Coast Guard seemed to make the most sense to me at the time.
10
Joining the Coast Guard would also serve another selfish purpose for me by getting me away from my father with whom at odds with because
I was always finding myself
he could never acknowledge
my right as a human
being to disagree with him - about anything. He was a good man and a father who loved me in his own ways but the generation gap took it's toll on the both of us.
Now that he's gone
I miss him badly and regret we
never had the chance to reconcile our differences trivial.
How
important
they
which
now
all seemed years ago though.
seem
so
It's amazing
what time will do to one's "perspective analysis".
Against the tearful pleas of my mother, I joined
the U.S. Coast Guard in
September of 1974. I guess being an only child my mother feared the worst, since even some Coast Guard units were seeing action in Vietnam doing river patrols and rescues at sea.
I took my oath of service and the bus
ticket they gave me to transport my butt to basic training in Cape May, New Jersey. shape
Being a high school wrestler and football at the
time
so boot camp seemed
found myself actually having fun and around
the world,
making
player,
I was in great
like a breeze to me and I some
unique friends
from
Brian Barbaris from North Jersey, Luis Guzman and
Vince Brinker from Puerto Rico, and Rick Gordon from New York city. Our few s ho r t months together were nothing less than a blast as we played the drill sergeant's
games.
Our drill sergeant,
Chief
Cooley
was
impossible to hate - one helluva nice guy who we all liked, respected, and would be proud
to have as an uncle.
Boot camp
with
it's 5:00 am
exercises, hours of drills and training, would have been a real drag without Chief Cooley and my little group of friends.
But a few weeks prior to graduation, I got word in the middle of the night that there was a terrible accident, my dad was injured, and I had to be 11
rushed home to Ohio.
I was gone by sunrise, flown home in the back seat
of an Air Force F-4 Phantom only to be told the truth - my father
had a
suffered a fatal heart attack and I was delivered home for his funeral. seemed impossible was
gone
and
but my dad, a very healthy
my
mother
was devastated.
any emotions, and suddenly my world
specimen
of
It
a
man
I was too shocked to have
was turned
upside down.
Guilt
soon set in for all the arguments I had with him and regret was a growing commodity anyone
that overwhelmed
other than myself.
me, though
I was too proud to admit it to
I guess my greatest secret was that despite
everything, I really loved my father and in recent years, didn't find the courage to tell him so.
After
the funeral,
I spent a few days alone
comfort her as best as I could. informing from
me that since
my obligations
caused
some
hot debate
my mother trying
to
A letter came from the U.S. Coast Guard
I was
to serve
with
an only child,
out the
between
balance
I would
be released
of my enlistment. This
my mother and
I since
I had fully
intended to stay home in Ohio with my mom even though I was thoroughly enjoying my new career in the Coast Guard, and from the letters been writing
I had
home from Cape May, my mother. k new of my excitement.
Like any mother, mine wanted me to be happy, even if it meant seeing her only twice or thrice a year during holidays. After coming to terms with our family's
reality and my future
prospects
and a desire for a college
education on the G.I. Bill (Uncle Sam's tab), I returned to the surprise of Chief Cooley to Cape May to complete my mother was there
on
the
parade
my training. grounds
On graduation as
we
marched
review, and afterwards she assured me that I had made the right decision.
day in In
my heart I agreed at the time, but now, 25 years later, I am not so sure. 12
Academically,
I finished second in my class of 36 cadets.
the week off for my father's funeral, was relevant only because one's
Had I not missed
I would have finished first.
This
ranking in the class determined
your
duty assignment to a Coast Guard unit and now I had second choice of all the posted duty assignments.
And the duty station I wanted
most
(Lifeboat
Station Cleveland)
was not available. In fa c t t h e
available
duty station
was
an icebreaker in Michigan which was an
nobody
wanted.
assignment
Sailors
in the Coast
nearest
Guard
who
had
disciplinary problems were often sent to ice-breakers or buoy-tenders as a form of punishment, since duty aboard these very
hard
work and
or
two types
of ships
entailed
long stretches at sea away from family, friends,
and lovers.
The Coast Guard Ba se in San Juan is a 5 minute walk to the famous El Moro Fort
I passed on the Michigan detail and chose a slot open in sunny Puerto Rico, laying smack dab in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. It was a shore station at the Coast Guard's Greater Antilles Section (GANTSEC)
in the
island's capitol of San Juan - truly a miniature Spanish
version
York
restaurants,
City,
casinos.
complete
with
a
multitude of nightclubs,
It was a long way from Ohio but my mom
argued
of New and
little about 13
taking
winter
vacations
found
free flights
in the Caribbean, and as a serviceman, I always
home to Ohio on MAC flights
Puerto Rico was a real plum o f an assignment actually being paid to live and work there.
(Military Air Command).
and I couldn’t believe I was It was, and still is a natural
paradise with crystalline aqua waters, miles of white sand beaches, and a laid back attitude of it's people that cannot be described.
This tour of
duty would surely be heaven I thought, but in the end my heaven would prove to be a real hell.
I dedicate the below photo to all my good friends and neighbors back in Parma. Perhaps only they will understand.
In any wealthy society, you will certainly find a wealth of greed and corruption. - The Author
© Cpyright 1995-2014 By Bruce A. Gorcyca – All Rights Reserved 14
