The single word “unseeable” ate at my foundations. Instinctively, I knew that word had nothing to do with nuclear power or any of what went on at the plant. The word didn’t refer, by definition, to something being unable to be seen because it was too secret to be allowed to be viewed or discuss with anyone about being viewed. No, the word itself meant invisible. I’d only heard the word used once before in regular, or any other, conversation. A professor at the University of New York, where I graduated before entering the Corps, referred to a light that had passed low and at phenomenal speed one weekend night. He mentioned to the class, when a student brought it up, that whatever the passing light appeared to be it was unseeable.
“But I saw it myself,” the young female student said.
“This is a sociology class,” the professor said, his voice seemingly old and tired, although he was anything but that. “We can study every facet of human group behavior and go quite beyond that in sociology but your freedom, when it comes to UFO or alien stuff, if it exists, is severely limited. It’s not limited by the administration at this institution. It’s limited by social circumstances. If I were to start teaching about that subject, then I’d quickly have a bevy of students but likely no job. Whatever that was or wasn’t shall remain unseeable.”
Whatever those Marines had seen had led directly to their deaths, by either panic-induced accident or deliberate execution.
I had to listen to the rest of the tape, although I didn’t want to. How was I going to contain myself to hold the kind of stuff inside that was coming out of those audible little reels? By listening to the tapes and then telling no one what was on them to protect myself, I was sealing a part of myself inside. The only approval I was likely to ever receive would be my own. If I was to tell more, beyond what had already been revealed to Gularte, my wife and incidentally, to Bob Elwell, what credibility I had would very quickly slip away unless I produced the tapes, and I was coming to believe that if I did that then my very life would likely slip away.
What could those Marines have seen and what was going on inside that huge concrete and steel ‘golf ball’ of a facility that might involve, at the very least, covering up the accidental death of the Marines, or, and this was a thought I didn’t want to have, their execution. I had no idea about whether the door complex between containment areas and their opening, closing, locking, or whatever was truly an automatic function or might just be command enabled from the control center, a center I’d never been inside nor was I ever likely to be inside.
I thought about what I’d given the Dwarfs, wondering why I’d been so forthcoming. I needed the group and the others I’d met to balance myself in the new culture I’d come to find back home when I’d gotten out of the hospital, at least that was Paul’s interpretation of why I was placing so much trust and importance in people I had little experience with over time.
After the meeting, to which there was no real conclusion, with all the Dwarfs talking excitedly about the new discoveries, I filed out to finish the beach patrol tour with Richard. There was nobody on the recent storm-tossed beaches as we traveled up and down the coast in silence, at least for a while. Small talk broke that silence but after an hour of talking about mostly nonsense Richard broke the ice and opened up a discussion about the data I’d provided to the Dwarfs.
“I was unaware of the Nixon connection to the assassination,” Richard said, out of the blue, after bringing up some kind of chatter about the salinity of the spindrift that blew off the very top of moving ocean waves.
“Nixon was there, although he claims to have departed just after the Kennedys arrived,” I replied, ignoring the ‘connection’ subject Richard interjected in his statement.
Since the statement hadn’t been a question, I might have failed to respond at all but being alone in a slowly moving and sand-articulating vehicle in the dark with only one other person in the car wasn’t going to allow for such failures to respond. Working shifts with any of the other officers brought those officers, and myself, closer together, whether any of us really wanted to be closer or not.
“He claims?” Richard asked, turning his head to look at me when he said the two words, slightly delaying the time between their delivery.
“Apparently, from what I could find out, which isn’t much, although he was a former vice president, not entitled to either a Secret Service detail or the ability to fly on governmental aircraft he was aboard such a plane. Governmental aircraft, I’ve been told, if flying short distances under visual rules, don’t have to file flight plans before they fly.”
“I didn’t know that” Richard responded, after a few seconds of delay. Having come to know the man, however slightly, and his odd connections, I was surprised that he seemed surprised unless he was lying, which I also knew he was damned good at.
“So, what do you think really was the case?” he asked, finally.
There was no way I was going to let Richard know that I not only possessed the tapes but that I’d been able to access what was on them, at least two of them anyway. I could not tell him the truth, that Jackie Kennedy’s voiced suspicion that Nixon was lying about his departure date or time had been enough for me. The woman had lost her husband, her position in life, and her children’s father. Her palpable anger came right through the recording which made me all the more curious as to why she was visiting Nixon in the first place and what she wanted from the man. It was becoming obvious to everyone that Nixon was on his way out as president, one way or the other, and any threat of assassination involvement in the Kennedy mess wasn’t going to change, add, or take away from that very likely coming event. I had nowhere to go, however, in finding out more, unless whoever made the original tapes came forward, and that was unlikely. The way the tape snippets I possessed were being preserved and moved indicated that whoever made the tapes, and Bob Mardian was my main suspect, knew damn well just how damning whatever was on them might come to be for anyone and everyone involved.
“It’s hard to believe he was there at all, given the size of coincidence that would have had to occur to allow that, unless he was somehow, even marginally, involved. No Pepsi Cola advertising thing could change that.”
I drove the Bronco slowly, in the soft sand up near the big rocks protecting the railroad tracks, my mind almost one hundred percent occupied in thinking about the revelation I’d just heard. I hadn’t mentioned any Pepsi connection to anyone and I was nearly certain that there were very few and limited sources that might have that information if it was true. I glanced to my right, taking a quick look at the side of Richard’s face, as he stared straight ahead through the windshield.
I drove on, racking my brain to recall Nixon’s exact words when he spoke to Jackie. Nixon’s excuse for being in Dallas was the “Pepsi” thing, using the exact word ‘thing’ that Richard had just repeated. There were only three possible places Richard might have gotten his information from, and none of the three of them were from me. Either he’d also somehow heard that part of the original tape, since I only possessed a copy of the original, he’d heard the information from the copied reel I possessed, or he was close enough to whoever made the tapes to get the material in conversation.
“If the Marines were drowned in fresh water, then that means they died inside the nuclear facility and their bodies and possessions were part of a detailed but fumbled attempt to cover that fact,” I replied, now fully understanding that I wasn’t talking to some minor player in whatever was going on in and around the Western White House.
Richard wasn’t some sort of low-down servant like I was. He simply knew too much, and he was willing to let me know he knew too much, which brought me to questions I didn’t want to ask him. Why was he telling me? What did he want, since revealing himself to me involved a lot of risk to him?
I waited for some answer as we drove on toward Trestles Beach in the darkness through bad but not terrible weather. I would have canceled the remainder of our shift on the beaches, because of the weather and lack of anyone on the beaches, but I wasn’t about to do anything to interrupt our totally unexpected conversation.
“There was that” Richard replied, responding smoothly to my change of subject attempt.
“What was that?” I asked straight out.
“What was what?” Richard answered but said no more.
I waited. I was dealing with a functionary of the highest order, I’d decided, so the man knew a whole lot more than he was ever likely to tell me, but I had to ask that one question that I couldn’t comfortably back away from. I turned the Bronco around and headed back toward the base of the pier. There was no point in continuing the beach patrol session and Richard wasn’t going to be more forthcoming, I knew.
“You don’t want to know,” Richard finally said, with a sigh in his voice, as if saying the words was a limited release of some huge frustration.
“You didn’t want to know either, I presume,” I said, wondering why I was bothering to continue at all. I was in very deep, and I knew it. Just how much deeper did I want or need to go?
“No, but then you guessed that, I presume,” Richard replied.
We rode toward the railroad gates in silence. Whatever had happened that afternoon at San Onofre had been of such stunning import that three Marines had been panicked from seeing it, had lost their lives because of it, had been the cause of a ridiculously incompetent coverup, and become the subject of an internal White House inquest or investigation that was vital enough for someone to have recorded it.
When we’d finished the patrol, fueled up at the yard, and parked the Bronco back at the station, Richard and I headed for our cars nearby. I was getting inside the Volks when he turned and walked back toward me. I stood back up, standing with the door open, and waited. He motioned me to come toward him, stopping twenty feet from where I was. I closed the door on the Volks and went to where he stood.
“All of this, everything you’ve been looking into, has been done for the good of everyone, or the maximum number of people,” Richard said, his voice little more than a whisper. “No one was intended to get hurt, much less killed, and no one needs to get hurt or killed from this point onward. There’s no corruption in any of this and Kennedy’s assassination has nothing to do with any of it. You’re doing fine. Don’t get yourself hurt here over nothing.”
“Ah, okay,” was all I could think to answer.
“The television program called Lost in Space. You’ve seen it?” he asked, seeming to head completely away from the subject he’d been discussing.
“Yes,” I replied, having seen the sort of foolish but funny science fiction sitcom.
“Danger Will Robinson, Danger,” he whispered, before turning and heading off to his car.
I went over to the Volks and got in, watching as Richard’s gorgeous Mercedes drove past me toward the driveway out of the lot. I breathed in and out deeply several times, wishing I had one of Gunny’s cigarettes to take a few puffs of before coughing my guts out. Was there to me no relief at all from the pressure cooker I’d somehow slipped myself into? I twisted the ignition key to the first stop but didn’t go further and start the car, instead turning the knob and playing whatever might come out of the radio.
“In the year 7510, If God’s a-comin’, he oughta make it by then, Maybe he’ll look around Himself and say, Guess it’s time for the Judgment day” came blaring out. “In the Year 2525” was the name of the song, although I couldn’t remember who recorded it, I did remember, vividly however, that it’d come out almost exactly at the time that my brother’s death was announced to me in May of 1969.
I drove home, to find Mary already asleep in our bed, with Julie down hours before. Bozo wasn’t sleeping, however, and was right there, sitting on the steps to the second story when I walked by him. He had his entrance and exit to the apartment through a hole in the screen that he’d made in the downstairs bedroom nobody ever used. When he used it was something of a mystery because he always seemed to be around when I was. I stopped on my way up to stare down into his eyes, wondering why the old, battered cat never gave way when I approached. He sat like he was waiting for me to challenge him, which I never did. His eyes projected a seemingly expressionless gaze but I didn’t interpret it that way. It was like he was counting on me to do the right thing for him and everyone in his pride.
I went into the bedroom to change out of my uniform and get the tape deck, which still held the Marine tape, with a half-filled blank one on spindles on top of it. I knew my wife was awake, but she didn’t move and said nothing. I’d left the room in the dark, working mostly by feel, wanting to bother her as little as possible, although I knew full well she’d never sleep through any of my exits from the bedroom or my returns to it. I took the deck downstairs, Bozo having disappeared to somewhere else in the structure. He was there, I knew, but I didn’t know where, and there was no point in looking for him. Listening to the tape was a solitary experience.
I set the deck up on the dining room table Mary and I’d bought from the Sears Catalogue, soon after we’d moved into the first apartment in our lives that had enough size to possess such an area. My wife had used a reddish mixture of paints to create an aged effect that worked great, except Jules had scratched the initials J.S. into one corner of the top. My questions as to how a toddler so young could have come up with the letters to scratch in, much less do the scratching, had gone unanswered.
I plugged in the deck and got ready.
“Danger Will Robinson, Danger,” I intoned, under my breath, as Bozo leaped up on the table to sit between me and my daughter’s initials. ‘How fitting’ I would have said, but there was no one to say it to.
Putting the earphones on once again, I clutched them with my hands to give a better seal to the thin foam cushions that surround the cups.
“What command structure was in place to fill the outer containment chamber with water?” the voice asked.
“How all that works is conjectural by me,” Horton replied, taking a few seconds to consider. “All of that stuff, how the operations of the plant really work in detail is classified, anyway.”
“We’re all cleared for top secret, Mr. Horton, as I’m sure you realize,” the voice said, sounding bored and not a little frustrated.
“It’s not about that,” Horton replied. “It’s about having a need to know and being able to prove that.”
“Proceed, please, Mr. Horton, with just answering the questions as best you can.”
“I believe, and that’s all it is,” Horton replied, “that every action that might be taken in that area of the plant would be, even if ‘automatic,’ command interruptible and interrogatable.”
I stopped the tape. There was that word again. Interrogatable. Why would any machine have the capability to be interrogated? It just didn’t seem to make any sense, but it certainly did to everyone I was listening to. I pushed the button again.
“Tell us about what went on inside the main containment chamber at any time from the beginning to the end, when the chamber was emptied and bodies removed,” the voice said, not phrasing the words as a question, and the man’s tone growing deeper and potentially more threatening.
“I already told you that I don’t know,” Horton replied, the tone of his voice rising in response to the same threat I felt in listening.
“Alright, aside from classified data and what you actually observed,” the voice began, this time with a much gentler tone, “tell us what you believe about it.”
There was a long silence, as the tape hissed away and I listened ever more intently, in order not to miss anything at all. Whatever the ‘unseeable’ was I badly wanted to know.
“I believe that there was something in there of new technology that was being demonstrated or shown by someone or something that was, well, too frightening to have a normal person see and not be terrified to their very core like the Marines were. Although those men were only enlisted Marines they were still hardened, compared to regular unselected and untrained civilians. They would seemingly have been able to handle more than a regular person but they could not, as evidenced by their alleged behavior. This is all theoretical however as I know nothing of the facts. I don’t know what was in their minds, nor what the officials and or workers on the scene might have been thinking or even doing. I’m only the CEO of the overseeing company, not the project itself.”
“We understand your frustration and appreciate your opinion,” the voice responded, “and this concludes our questioning. One other thing though.”
The voice stopped, while a discussion went on that wasn’t understandable at all no matter how I pressed on the earphones to try to hear it.
“One of our people has proposed a question that I’d like you to answer, aside from this investigation,” the voice said, the tone of the man’s voice being almost supplicating instead of flat analytical, or domineering.
The tape hissed, while both the voice, the people obviously with the man behind it, and I, waited. Seconds went by.
“Go ahead,” Horton replied, sounding like he was near the end of his rope.
“Would it be better to tell you what was there or not tell you what was there, to secure with certainty that none of what happened, that you know about, think or believe, ever again gets discussed in your life?”
I stopped the tape to consider. The question was shocking beyond my experience. The threat alone of the asking was so evident and intense, yet delivered in the form of a simple question asking for assistance in coming to a satisfactory conclusion.
“Who in hell asks questions like that?” I quietly inquired of Bozo, who’d taken to laying on the table, his paws extended toward me like he was a miniature cat version of the Sphinx.
The question made me feel fear course through me and I wasn’t there or being asked it. I stopped to think about myself. I wasn’t feeling fear for Horton, that, and his fate was already a part of history, as I didn’t have any dating on the tapes to allow me to know exactly when they had been made. I was afraid for myself. I could very well be asked the same question at some point in the future, I just knew. Which answer might include a death sentence, was the question I asked myself. If Horton chose to know, which I wanted him to choose because the tape might contain the real answer to the mystery, would that not put him in possession of information that might cause the unknown group of powerful people obviously behind the voice to have him taken out? If Horton chose not to know, then could the group decide that his not wanting to know mean that he already knew but was not revealing that or that he didn’t know but would likely figure it all out over time. Again, a similar but less abruptly delivered, yet unspoken, threat?
I pushed the button once more, moving the button hand back to my earphone to not miss a word.
“I choose not to know,” Horton responded, sending disappointment coursing through me.
“This interview is then concluded,” the voice said, as the tape went back to hissing.
I listened for minutes more, until the tape was done, the dangling end from the inscribed wheel going round and round endlessly.
I rewound the tape, pulled it from the machine, and headed upstairs, Bozo jumping down from the table and running through the kitchen as if in a real hurry to get somewhere, but I didn’t get far. As I crossed the living room toward the light switch and the bottom of the stairs, there was a light knocking at the front door, only feet from where I stood. I leaned down to my right and opened the top of the stereo. I gently placed the deck and the tape I’d removed and then reclosed the top, glad that there was enough room to cover it all.
I stood at the door, hoping it was a drunken lifeguard or cop looking for a place to sleep it off, before I unlocked and opened it.
The porch light wasn’t lit and I didn’t hit the switch because I didn’t need to. Richard stood at my door, still in uniform.
“I’m afraid we have to go in,” he said, an uncomfortable look on his face.
“Go in where?” I asked, in complete surprise.
“You know,” he replied, waiting.
“Who in hell is there at this hour?” I asked.
“They are, a small group of interested men.”
“I’ve got to get dressed and tell my wife,” I said, knowing I had no choice in the matter. I’d revealed nothing in much consequence, either to the Dwarfs or to Richard in the Bronco on patrol. He’d done most of the talking.
I went upstairs, noting that Bozo was nowhere to be seen.
“Danger, Will Robinson.”
Tried to buy you a double latte frapachino but the credit card function on “Support me” doesn’t seem to be working. I noticed on the zipcode field is present but the address, city and state fields are not present from the billing info section
Got to go back and figure out that site again, Ira.
I think in the end that they wanted me to give them my bank account password
and I can’t do that for anyone or entity.
Semper fi, and really appreciate the thought.
Jim
Starting to sound like the end of Down in the Valley
Only you, Ira, have stated that and I was taken aback because although the events in Down in the Valley
were preceded by many yeas with the Cowardly Lion expose, there’s still much to be considered as my mind
was prepared to possibly accept stuff that was simply unacceptable (or maybe, unseeable).
Thank you so much.
Semper fi,
Jim
Oh Crap!
“Danger”; a bit more knowledge from the tape; then a knock at the door in the wee hours; and a summons.
Even without the rest of the answers, which I am sure you will reveal most of them, I’m beginning to see where this may be leading you.
Your writing has not only become more frequent to us, but it is getting better. More like a historic novel as opposed to a memoir.
Keep it up, Lt. I believe you have us hooked.
Rick, sure did like the ‘historical novel’ portion of your comment. I have been a great fan of
that genre of literature all my life and it’s nice to be possibly in among the authors. The compliments
are truly nice as I persevere here. Take care my friend…
Semper fi,
Jim
Simply outstanding writing James !
The tension with the “interested men”, perhaps the same ones interrogating Horton?
Richards revelations about the altitude he operates at, his clear warning of danger.
And now the huge dylema of how much to share with your trusted circle especially your wife. You’ve made it this far and are purging these memories for us to sit transfixed by. You’ve had a 5 ticket ride through these experiences! Thank-you again for sharing the gift of your memory and story telling talent!
Thanks for the great comment and wonderful compliments, as I work away to get the next chapter just right.
Keeps me going, for certain.
Semper fi, My friend,
Jim
Another interesting chapter leaves me wondering what you have got yourself into, and whether it was intentional or accidental? I also wonder, if you had it all to do over again, know the risks, would you do it?
Incidentily, unlike previous chapters, I had some difficulty pullling this one up on FB. It seemed to want me to make a call of some sort, which is not something I do on the computer, because you never know where it goes or who sees it.
Thanks again for your writing and service.
Kemp
Thanks for the compliment and the Facebook problem. Somehow, when the article was boosted, the call me button got pushed.
I don’t want any calls because they would be rather superfluous or rather out of place. Thanks for the tip and the kind
words.
Semper fi,
Jim
Pepsi
Now you’re talking!
Great chapter, suspense- danger and entanglement Does the name Bob Morrison mean anything to you? A Marine Officer here is some of his background:
Vice Chairman of Pepsi, 2003-05
Military service: USMC (1963-67, to Capt., Vietnam War)
University: BA English, College of the Holy Cross (1963)
University: MBA, Wharton School, University of Pennsylvania (1969)
Administrator: Trustee, Lake Forest College
3M Interim CEO (2005)
Pepsi Vice Chairman (2003-05)
Quaker Oats President and CEO (1997-2001)
Kraft Foods CEO (1994-97)
Kraft Foods President of General Foods (1991-94)
Kraft Foods President of Kraft General Foods Canada (1989-91)
Kraft Foods (1983-89)
Procter & Gamble (1969-)
Silver Star
Purple Heart He shared some Pepsi stuff with me.
During World War II, Pepsi-Cola circumvented some freezes and shortages by building a syrup factory in Mexico. Ignoring the lesson of Bradham’s ruin, the company agreed to buy all the excess sugar produced by that country.
Pepsi exchanged their coal for old submarines and warships! After the deal, Pepsi briefly had the 6th largest army in the world, before they sold all of it for scrap. The deal also included oil tankers which were leased out by Pepsi. Russia is still Pepsi’s 2nd biggest market out of the US.
Pepsi exchanged their coal for old submarines and warships! After the deal, Pepsi briefly had the 6th largest army in the world, before they sold all of it for scrap. The deal also included oil tankers which were leased out by Pepsi. Russia is still Pepsi’s 2nd biggest market out of the US.
In 1962, Pepsi named a former fountain salesman President. He launched the Pepsi Generation ad campaign. His name, Don Kendall- he served as CEO of Pepsi Cola (which merged with Herman Lay’s Frito Lay, Inc. to become PepsiCo in 1965) and as CEO of PepsiCo from 1971 to 1986.
Why does this matter? Let’s look at Kendall’s background, shall we?
In 1942 Kendall joined the U.S. Navy. As a Navy Catalina PBY seaplane pilot, he assisted in the Landings at Manila Bay, Mindoro, and Leyte Gulf. He was awarded 3 Air Medals and a Distinguished Flying Cross.
Kendall joined the Pepsi Cola Company in 1947, working at a bottling plant in New Rochelle, New York. After a later stint as a delivery driver, Kendall became a sales representative and rose through the sales ranks becoming a marketing vice president in 1956. He headed up Pepsi’s international operation in 1957 and became the CEO in 1963.[1] In 1963, he made the decision to change the name of Pepsi’s diet soda from Patio Diet Cola to Diet Pepsi. In the early years of diet soft drinks, Pepsi became the first major soda manufacturer to give its diet product the same name as its flagship product. [3]
Kendall brought Pepsi to Russia and was awarded the Order of Friendship by Vladimir Putin, President of Russia, in 2004. He oversaw the creation of the Donald M. Kendall Sculpture Gardens, a sculpture park that includes gardens, trails, parks, and a collection of art, primarily 20th century sculpture including works by Auguste Rodin, David Wynne, Alberto Giacometti, and Alexander Calder, at PepsiCo’s corporate headquarters in Purchase, New York.[4]
He had a friend name Dick Nixon.
In 1970, Kendall requested and participated in a high-level meeting of Chilean businessman and publisher Agustín Edwards Eastman of the Edwards family with high Nixon administration officials, after which President Nixon met with then-National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger and CIA Director Richard Helms and, in the words of a 1976 New York Timesarticle, said “that Chile was to be saved from Salvador Allende and he didn’t care much how.”[7]
According to The Guardian:
…the October 1970 plot against Chile’s President-elect Salvador Allende … was the direct result of a plea for action a month earlier by Donald Kendall, chairman of PepsiCo, in two telephone calls to the company’s former lawyer, President Richard Nixon. Kendall arranged for the owner of the company’s Chilean bottling operation to meet National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger on September 15. Hours later, Nixon called in his CIA chief, Richard Helms, and, according to Helms’s handwritten notes, ordered the CIA to prevent Allende’s inauguration. Why was Nixon interested in Chile?
Well, CIA boy Richard Nixon’s administration interfered in Chilean politics during the early 1970s due to concerns about the potential spread of communism. The U.S. government, particularly the CIA, supported efforts to undermine the socialist government of Salvador Allende, fearing it would align with the Soviet Union. This interference ultimately led to Allende’s overthrow in a coup in 1973, bringing General Augusto Pinochet to power.
Now the connection is becoming clear, isn’t it? Why did Texans dislike JFK? Soft on communism?
Oh, due tell.
I believe you made this comment once already but here it is again. Your research and attention to such
detail from the material is a wonderful compliment and I thank you for that.
Semper fi, my friend,
Ji
On the edge again, love it! Another great chapter!
Thanks William. Means a lot to me as I write away on this cold windy morning.
Much appreciated.
Semper fi,
Jim
LT, suspected Richard couldn’t be trusted from the start. I think your home is bugged and you’re being watched all the time. How else would Richard just conveniently show up at your door right after you finished listening to the marines tape. Your conversation in the Bronco clued Richard in that you had the tapes and had listened to them. I wonder who else has listened to the tapes? Now you maybe in deep shit.
Thanks, JT, for your analysis and deep interest in the story set back in those times.
Richard was a remarkable human being, sort of like the Gunny, as he slip-slides his way on
through…
Semper fi,
Jim
Richard may be somewhat like the gunny but I suspect for more dangerous.
The Gunny was also dangerous. That he would not meet with me when I got home and accidentally
found him, told me about all I needed to know. He was about saving the Gunny, and he did that
without injury. Probably felt bad about that too… I will never know.
Semper fi,
Jim
I have no doubt the gunny was dangerous especially in Nam where he had total control but these people your dealing with have a lot more power in the land of the big PX and can make unbelievable things happen.
It was a very unique situation to be tossed into by mostly blind luck (when they made the mistake of
trying to send me back to combat in such bad shaper the Corps had given me the choice of any billet for
my rank that they had). I picked Camp Pendleton of all of them). The president move his private wester home
at the same time. The Chief of police in San Clemente wanted his own private sort of beach patrol. And so on.
Thanks for the apropos comment and putting it up here for all to read.
SEmper fi,
Jim
Jim, “They are, a small group of interested men.” After reading that sentence, my immediate reaction was, and pardon my French, holy shit. It’s obvious to the casual observer that this meeting ended on a somewhat positive note, as you’re here, writing about it.
Regards, Doug
Positive, Doug, can be hard to gauge when dealing with those people, especially when your as movie at
just how arcanely complex the intelligence agency system really is. Thanks for your analysis and
your correct conclusion.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, another great chapter! I have followed you since the beginning, and am hoping to see this through until the end. What an amazing life you have lived! You have my utmost respect and admiration!!! Keep up the good work!
Thank you very much, Kevin. Without the support of the people who’ve commented on here and on Facebook, this story would never have made it into print. Cannot thank you enough.
Semper fi,
Jim
No Admiral Hyman Rickover involved in this ? If the Admiral wasn’t involved in this , then someone with a tremendous amount of influence knew how to keep whatever was going on here hidden from him . I can’t even begin to explain what it would have taken to hide anything to do with Americas nuclear program from the Admiral .
Rickover, Charles, was always back on the East Coast when not in Washington. His contribution to the
supposedly civil nuclear energy commission plants was nearly non-existent, in my opinion. Never met
the man, although some of what he did for the Navy had to be as a result of what happened at San
Onofre.
Semper fi,
Jim
Mr. Strauss, Sir.
I hate to be redundant, but once again I feel compelled to say HOLY S### !!!
I’m afraid I’m naive, but I can’t begin to imagine what the Marines might have seen that would have been described as unseeable. Was your UFO example in the beginning of this chapter a clue? Also, with all the powerful people that are involved and seem to know stuff about you and your past (that it seems like they couldn’t possibly know), I fear that you are in really big trouble. But then I realize that it is now many years later and you are alive and writing this and survived that. That realization helps me, but my heart rate is elevated none the less. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks so much Keith. Yes, I made it through to this point, although I’m now certain that there are still a few
left in the system that have grown wary of what I’ve been writing. No direct contact yet, but I’m expecting it any day. They don’t kill you if you disobey, that’s the movies. They just take your retirement pay away and leave you with your very unhappy spouse.
Thanks for the depth of your interest and the expression of your support here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Another great chapter my friend! You’ve done a great job of keeping us guessing about Richard’s true nature he’s an interesting guy! I respect the discipline you show, taking the time and energy to share your life. Thanks
Thanks Jack, and yes that discipline, so long and hard driven in. Thanks you United States Marine Corps. I have now been churning out a chapter a week for over a year and I find myself a bit surprised by the consistency I’ve been able to demonstrate. Some stalwart warriors like you, Chuck, Jim Flynn and some others have sure helped me along the way.
Thank you!
Semper fi,
Jim
This is the pinnacle of the epitome of the-who-done-it series. Please, Sir, tell me more! I await with bated breath!
Thanks Chris. Yes, real life can be more challenging and arcanely complex than a whole lot of fiction.
So far, I’ve had four people from back then get hold of me, wondering what I”m going to write about their
participation next. I’m also surprised that none of them really shared much with those around them in
their family or friends circle while it was happening. Much of it felt like it was just ho hum daily junk, but
it was anything but that. Thanks for the short but very complimentary comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
As with your tape recorder, I have had to stop multiple times to think about what I have just learned. The main difference is that when I stop, I go to the Internet and search for stories and information to broaden my understanding of the events that you were living in.
Jack K. Horton served as the president, chief executive officer and chairman of Southern California Edison, the “local” utility company. Would he have been fully informed of all the details of the event? Maybe not, allowing plausible deniability to come into play. The person asking questions gave Horton the option to “know”, which was probably an easy decision to make, keeping his knowledge consistent.
My bigger topic has to do with Intel, and your use of it. From the chapter that Richard came on the scene, I have guessed that he was planted to shadow and distract you in a surveillance role. He has revealed that he knows more than he can share.
Which leads to the tapes. Planted, to watch your reaction to their existence and content? Is this all part of your “grooming” for future usefulness? Apparently the decision has already been made to keep you around. Otherwise…..well, we know that you are still here, sharing your experiences as best you can.
Carry on, for your readers.
Todd, I deliberately use the real names of the players in this continuing dramatic presentation. I do so for the purpose you are demonstrating. So people can look the characters up on the Internet and know that they were as real as can be, to the best of my memory. Horton exited the stage following the tape rendition of his conundrum. I thought about it for a long time, even after I found out what was going on inside San Onofre. I always have felt that he knew, but took the secret with him when he died in 2000 at age 84. Many secrets are kept by the intelligence agencies much more securely than the public has come to believe.
Thanks for the research and the depth of your interest.
Semper fi
Jim
Another chapter keeping me the reader on the edge of my seat and what with Kissinger dying tonight; just that much spooking!
Very well done indeed!!!
And keeping in mind, never mind Erlichman and Haldeman there were 2 other guys involved with the tapes in the Watergate Hotel that were also at the “Grassy Knoll” when Kennedy was assassinated…. oh this is getting so good!
And you’re in deep!
Wow, before leaving w/Richard (after putting on a pair of unsoiled undershorts) I would tell my wife to pack the bug & be ready to go.
Phil, you learn very quickly, when playing ‘inside the center ring of the arena’ that there is no place to run to.
I once, many years later, got mad at the Agency and verbally threatened to publish my memoirs and reveal all kinds of stuff
that would bring my superiors down (a version of that is going on right now with the Cowardly series, but not brining anyone down).
My control officer looked up at me and very calmly said some fearful words. “You’re not Walter Matthau and we aren’t living Hopscotch. If you try to do something like that, well, we’ll send someone exactly like you to find and visit you. Your combination of gifts is not unique, it’s simply quite rare.” That scared me silent. Now, I’m so old it doesn’t matter much anymore.
Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Speechless…….
Great laconic one word compliment Bob!
Semper fi,
Jim
James,
The unmasking of Richard has begun. I await further developments.
The beginning paragraphs to this chapter plus the tape contents hint at the Marines seeing something alien to this world. If true, that would be quite surreal.
Some minor editing suggestions follow:
Jackie Kennedy’s voiced suspicion that Nixon was lying about his departure date or time was not true had been enough for me
“was not true” seems redundant Drop
Jackie Kennedy’s voiced suspicion that Nixon was lying about his departure date or time had been enough for me
The way the tap snippets
Maybe “tape” instead of “tap”
The way the tape snippets
given the size of coincidence that would have had to occur to allow them
Maybe “that” instead of “them”
given the size of coincidence that would have had to occur to allow that
racking my brain to recall Jackie’s exact words when she spoke to Nixon. She’d called Nixon’s excuse for being in Dallas the “Pepsi” thing, using the exact word ‘thing’ that Richard had just repeated.
From Chapter 55 it’s Nixon (not Jackie) who says “Yes, I was there for a Pepsi thing with Joan Crawford.”
/To be consistent with the previous chapter we need to flip the sentences here/
racking my brain to recall Nixon’s exact words when he spoke to Jackie. Nixon’s excuse for being in Dallas was the “Pepsi” thing, using the exact word ‘thing’ that Richard had just repeated
“There apparently was that” Richard replied, responding smoothly to my change of subject attempt.
“What was it?” I asked straight out.
Maybe change “it” to “that”
“What was that?” I asked straight out.
I closed the door on Volks and went to where he stood
Add “the” before “Volks”
I closed the door on the Volks and went to where he stood
except Jules’ had scratched the initials J.S.
No need for apostrophe “Jules'”
except Jules had scratched the initials J.S.
I clutched them with my hands to give a better seal the thing foam cushions that surround the cups
reword “seal the thing foam” to “seal to the thin foam”
I clutched them with my hands to give a better seal to the thin foam cushions that surround the cups
Blessings & Be Well
Thanks DanC, you give me hope that my own editing might be improving a bit…thanks to you, of course.
Richard was a true piece of work, as you shall see in continuing chapters. Thanks for everything you
do, as usual, and I thank God that you found me.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Wowser, Jim! Sounds as if you are about to be plunged into the deep-fat fryer! If this wasn’t an autobiography, I’d be wondering if you survived – again!
Couple typos, which I’ll let DanC take care of.
Very fast-moving chapter, well written and very comprehensible. Can hardly wait for the next few chapters.
Thanks, my friend, and Semper Fi to a Marine I truly enjoy.
To a friend I really enjoy! Thanks so much for the great comment and compliment. Yes,
those were such turbulent times for me. Kissinger died and the Kennedy nightmare celebrated sixty
years too. How apropos is all of that.
Semper fi,
Jim
This is better than anything Hollywood could conceive. Hope you’re packing at least a snub nose.
No gun necessary. What the movies and television (although a very few novels get it right), you don’t truly need a piece if you have what Liam Neeson described (Taken) as certain ‘skill sets.’ A vibrant, aware, intelligent and vastly world-experienced human, and their are very few of those around, is a match for any situation, Anyone, of course, can be killed in a drive-by but then, being armed would not prevent that. Thanks for the interesting and deeply thought out comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Holy Sh*t, Batman!
Or one of the many other nicknames I was labeled with through time. Batman would have been
cool, but mostly, in the real world of tough experienced ‘players’ nicknames are rather insulting
or accidental. It’s like the Marine Corps. If other Marines stop swearing at you and calling you names then
you’ve lost that loving feeling from them.
Semper fi,
Jim
James I like the past few chapters a lot The 30 days segment was great reading I had been in Nam and could relate to the situation you were faced with not with the same frequency or severity The lion presents a disconnect and is more difficult to relate to So the intriguing situation is a real positive Keep it coming Thank you for writing the 30 There is some real healing for all who had seen combat
I am somewhat stymied from becoming more popular as a writer by the limited number of
real combat -vets that there are left. On the other hand, I am really complimented by those
combat vets who feel that reading the reality ‘written in blood’ about how true combat can be.
Thank you for expressing that on here.
Semper fi
Jim
Daaayuuuum, Lt you get involved in the hairiest situations. I am always waiting to see what is coming next
Thanks Ernest! Much appreciate the compliment and your putting it out in front
of everyone who reads these entries.
Semper fi,
Jim
Pepsi
Now you’re talking!
Great chapter, suspense- danger and entanglement Does the name Bob Morrison mean anything to you? A Marine Officer here is some of his background:
Vice Chairman of Pepsi, 2003-05
Military service: USMC (1963-67, to Capt., Vietnam War)
University: BA English, College of the Holy Cross (1963)
University: MBA, Wharton School, University of Pennsylvania (1969)
Administrator: Trustee, Lake Forest College
3M Interim CEO (2005)
Pepsi Vice Chairman (2003-05)
Quaker Oats President and CEO (1997-2001)
Kraft Foods CEO (1994-97)
Kraft Foods President of General Foods (1991-94)
Kraft Foods President of Kraft General Foods Canada (1989-91)
Kraft Foods (1983-89)
Procter & Gamble (1969-)
Silver Star
Purple Heart He shared some Pepsi stuff with me.
During World War II, Pepsi-Cola circumvented some freezes and shortages by building a syrup factory in Mexico. Ignoring the lesson of Bradham’s ruin, the company agreed to buy all the excess sugar produced by that country.
Pepsi exchanged their coal for old submarines and warships! After the deal, Pepsi briefly had the 6th largest army in the world, before they sold all of it for scrap. The deal also included oil tankers which were leased out by Pepsi. Russia is still Pepsi’s 2nd biggest market out of the US.
Pepsi exchanged their coal for old submarines and warships! After the deal, Pepsi briefly had the 6th largest army in the world, before they sold all of it for scrap. The deal also included oil tankers which were leased out by Pepsi. Russia is still Pepsi’s 2nd biggest market out of the US.
In 1962, Pepsi named a former fountain salesman President. He launched the Pepsi Generation ad campaign. His name, Don Kendall- he served as CEO of Pepsi Cola (which merged with Herman Lay’s Frito Lay, Inc. to become PepsiCo in 1965) and as CEO of PepsiCo from 1971 to 1986.
Why does this matter? Let’s look at Kendall’s background, shall we?
In 1942 Kendall joined the U.S. Navy. As a Navy Catalina PBY seaplane pilot, he assisted in the Landings at Manila Bay, Mindoro, and Leyte Gulf. He was awarded 3 Air Medals and a Distinguished Flying Cross.
Kendall joined the Pepsi Cola Company in 1947, working at a bottling plant in New Rochelle, New York. After a later stint as a delivery driver, Kendall became a sales representative and rose through the sales ranks becoming a marketing vice president in 1956. He headed up Pepsi’s international operation in 1957 and became the CEO in 1963.[1] In 1963, he made the decision to change the name of Pepsi’s diet soda from Patio Diet Cola to Diet Pepsi. In the early years of diet soft drinks, Pepsi became the first major soda manufacturer to give its diet product the same name as its flagship product. [3]
Kendall brought Pepsi to Russia and was awarded the Order of Friendship by Vladimir Putin, President of Russia, in 2004. He oversaw the creation of the Donald M. Kendall Sculpture Gardens, a sculpture park that includes gardens, trails, parks, and a collection of art, primarily 20th century sculpture including works by Auguste Rodin, David Wynne, Alberto Giacometti, and Alexander Calder, at PepsiCo’s corporate headquarters in Purchase, New York.[4]
He had a friend name Dick Nixon.
In 1970, Kendall requested and participated in a high-level meeting of Chilean businessman and publisher Agustín Edwards Eastman of the Edwards family with high Nixon administration officials, after which President Nixon met with then-National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger and CIA Director Richard Helms and, in the words of a 1976 New York Timesarticle, said “that Chile was to be saved from Salvador Allende and he didn’t care much how.”[7]
According to The Guardian:
…the October 1970 plot against Chile’s President-elect Salvador Allende … was the direct result of a plea for action a month earlier by Donald Kendall, chairman of PepsiCo, in two telephone calls to the company’s former lawyer, President Richard Nixon. Kendall arranged for the owner of the company’s Chilean bottling operation to meet National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger on September 15. Hours later, Nixon called in his CIA chief, Richard Helms, and, according to Helms’s handwritten notes, ordered the CIA to prevent Allende’s inauguration. Why was Nixon interested in Chile?
Well, CIA boy Richard Nixon’s administration interfered in Chilean politics during the early 1970s due to concerns about the potential spread of communism. The U.S. government, particularly the CIA, supported efforts to undermine the socialist government of Salvador Allende, fearing it would align with the Soviet Union. This interference ultimately led to Allende’s overthrow in a coup in 1973, bringing General Augusto Pinochet to power.
Now the connection is becoming clear, isn’t it? Why did Texans dislike JFK? Soft on communism?
Oh, due tell.
Jesu Christi Richard! Howly cow! You went deep into this subject which arose from an incidental discovery.
I had no idea of that depth. Even today, i wonder whether Nixon was a whole lot closer to that assassination than
anyone wants to admit, except for maybe Jackie on my tapes. Thank you for spending all that time and taking the trouble
to really look into things. It would appear that Pepsi was a whole more patriotically involved then I would ever had
guessed without your contribution here.
Thank you, my friend,
semper fi,
Jim
I did not think I could read a story that held my interest as much as your trilogy “Thirty Days has September”. However, here I am, waiting and wanting more. I can’t see how this story will end without more trials and tribulation. I enjoy what you have produced. Don’t ever give up. You have to much to offer.
No quit in me so far Daniel, although life at this age seems as filled with as much strangeness as it was back then, but
different now. Except for my writing, I have little release for the vast storage chamber my gifted membery has allowed me to
accumulate and carry through the ages. Sometimes I feel like so many people could profit from what I know but I have no real
ability to reach them to give it away!
Thanks so much for your neat comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
Another fine offering you tease us with–full of full measure of both mystery and intrigue! THANKS, Jim!
Seems you are perhaps getting closer to knowing some information that you really may regret knowing.
Maybe the next chapter will tantalizingly lead us to the unveiling of what was it was that so ‘unseeable’?
Richard not wanting to talk to you next to your car suggests to me Richard has reason to believe your Volks is bugged. But he was willing to converse with you in the Bronco. Hmmm.
BTW, When Richard said, “then there is that”, I took that to mean his time delayed response to the previous reference of a botched coverup even–though some time had passed since that had been stated. And I suspect Richard was part of that botched cover up.
Now I have to go research “Lost in Space” and “Danger, Will Robinson, danger”…
Waiting anxiously for the next chapter of enlightenment.
Keep yourself safe. Wear your seatbelt, look both ways before crossing a street, don’t decide to go skydiving or free climb tall cliffs without a rope, be careful when going up and down stairs or using sharp objects. I do not want anything happening to you until you are able to tell us “the rest of THE story”! –Your captivating TCL story and the mysteries into which you find yourself enmeshed.
Wishing you all the best.
THE WALTER DUKE. Note the use of capitals there. You are amazing Walter, and you’ve been that way for some time with me.
I cannot thank you enough, of course, as you pursue an in depth investigation of everything i write. I am so happy that
the unraveling of this mystery, which I’ve secretly carried through so many years can finally be told. The Agency and other alphabet
soup intelligence operations, really don’t come after former players. That’s most mythology. They simply depend upon the fact
taht most ‘regular’ people reading the stuff will ignore, not believe or simply move on through the material. You are none of those
things, or persons, however, so it’s really great to be able to read what you comment on.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Hello James
Ah
The plot thickens!
As an aside-
Occasionally you will mention a song that comes to mind
Most were popular when we were serving our country
They bring back both good and bad memories
FYI
The song “ in the year 2525”
Was sung by Bob Christian
Keep the suspense rolling
And occasionally mention a song from the good old days
Semper Fi
Duke
those songs used to hurt, when I was fresh home, out of the hospital until the next surgery.
I’m to sure why. All the songs that I play in my head, when not on any participating radio transmissions
anymore are like that, but I’m better now. In the year 2525 if man is still alive…I won’t be and you either, so I am
left to wonder, as I should. Brilliant writer if those lyrics…as expressed and intended.
thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow James, “Danger Will Robinson” indeed! Seems like you’re approaching a precipice with no way back. Forward with extreme caution…
Tim D
The A Shau introduced me into a world where danger can have no ready escape, can have no alternative but to face, and
in facing leads to almost certain death. That I made it 30 days is astounding to me, and then took wounds that would have
killed so many. Only the readers who comment on here, or read but don’t comment, really understand. The song, “You’ll never walk alone,” is
playing on the television downstairs right now. Unfortunately, many times, in many places and in much of circumstance, we really do walk along.
Thanks for the great comment on this dark and rainy night.
Semper fi,
jim
“In the year 7510, If God’s a-comin’, …” I believe it is 9510 not 7510 and the artists were Zager and Evans. “Now this is a fine mess you have gotten yourself into!” LT I’m beginning to think you are a dangerous person to be around!! LOL Not really but you do get into some Interesting situations. Another engrossing chapter.
Thanks for the input, Doc.
But the original lyrics are:
In the year 7510
If God’s a coming, He oughta make it by then
Maybe He’ll look around Himself and say….
LT you are absolutely correct I miss remembered the lyrics.
Thanks for that comment Terry, much appreciate the admission.
You are a class act.
Semper fi, and thank you,
Jim
“Unseeable” as you define that I was reminded about those societies whose close living proximity requires public display of actions we intend to do behind closed doors….I wonder if in our individual oriented environment this is possible! Because it definitely works in ghettos and say India! Also appears that you have found a player at your level of operations! I have always thought watergate was a weird caos but sounds like real fear was driving…and appears to have provided successful misdirection!
Very astute and deep, Colonel. I have to think a bit about some of what you wrote. Watergate’s effects were a whole lot different than most people know.
I was there, on the west coast, of course, but watched will stuff go down in response to it and then in support of the new leadership which wasn’t eadership
at all.Unseeable wasn’t word I invented. It was exposed to me on the tapes. What was unseeable will become more evident as time goes by in The Cowardly Lion. There is still stuff that can hurt me here and I am not being totally revealing as I cannot afford to be and st5ill have a life at my age. But it’s all coming, like an aged avalanche held back by only the years of its pause up on the steep mountain incline…
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
??as long as I am able? ??? Got some news for us Lt?
Thanks Bob, for the concern. No, I am okay and working away, but i’m not an idiot when it
comes to the mortality tables either. I’m 78 and know it. My health is good although I’ve had
two heart surgeries and other junk. I hate old people talking about their health. I’m here, writing and
revealing more and more and I think that will continue for some time. Thanks so much for the concern.
Semper fi,
Jim
I’ve said it before and I’m sure that I’ll say it again before this is over. Hotel Oscar Lima Yankee Sierra Hotel India Tango. As always LT, thanks for the ride. Semper Fi.
The ‘ride’ is for both of us. I write it and release the words, like waters from a long dammed up river source, and
you take the waters downstream to do what you will with it. Thanks for the LT address, as I was in too early for those
initials to be used for lower officer ranks. I like reading it. I could have been a contender!
Semper fi,
Jim
I’m sitting here, in my den, reading, and scared shitless. I can feel my chest tightening.
You are a class act, Clay. I cannot thank you enough for sitting there thinking about the work and what might be
coming next. Semper fi,
Jim
Thank you. Your latest chapters are not just a few paragraphs. These are long posts, full of new material, full of subtlety and nuance, and very well-written. And, they’re coming closer together than they have been. That’s a lot of material, and a lot of work, both physically, and, for you, emotionally.
I sincerely appreciate the effort you’re putting into this.
Your compliment hits hard and wonderfully well. I am trying my heart out to get it all as straight as I can,
and it sure helps to hear from the readers here, like you, who make life better for me.
Thanks so much,
Semper fi,
Jim
I hope you will not mind, Clay, but I put your comment all over the many Facebook sites that I have, as I don’t
get many compliments that reach that deeply into my psychology…although the readers who do comment on here are
generally wonderful in so many ways. Thank you. My compliment in return for your very own.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, I’m honored. Sincerely.
Clay
Most deservedly so, and I thank you for allowing me to show my small world that I do, indeed, have some truly sincere
and caring friends on this planet. PTSD does not allow for much in the way of close relationships. Thank you for being one
of those.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Every chapter has left me with so many questions. It is hard to wait another week to read what comes next. I was even checking to see if this chapter had been published at 2 A.M. this morning as I stumbled to bed having read another of your books well beyond the time a normal person should retire. Now, I will have to go down the rabbit hole to see what a search of Will Robinson and the year 2525 will reveal. Every guess I had about what might be revealed in this chapter was incorrect. I guess that I will have to review some Physiology texts if I can find them after all these years. Too bad NCIS has not picked up this theme and added years to their franchise.
I put your comment up on Facebook, on my sites there. It’s just so wonderful I could not help it.
Like Clay’s earlier comment, just right to the bone, to the heart. Meaningful and from a real plerson
just getting the effect of reading the words…Wonderful.
Thank you so much,
Semper fi,
Jim