Those glasses were in style back then.

I was just reminiscing with some folks recently about when we turned 33 years of age. At 33, I had returned to Indiana and was working at The Big Fenced in Place after giving 10 years to the Army and another 5 to the Texas oilfields. Someone had mentioned that if you're going to live to be 100, then at age 33 you'll be about a third of the way there. These folks I was talking to are some really sharp people. Now I would wager that there are some significant doubts about me living to be 100, but it was fun to reminisce a bit. Now as my eldest son, Matthew, is almost a third of the way to 100, I have good reason to pause and reflect back on that time when he made his arrival.

Matthew was born in Anchorage, Alaska back on July 9th, 1976. I had great hopes of having the first baby born on the Bicentennial of our country; however he hesitated for another 5 days until he made his first appearance into this world. I was never truly aware of how special life could be until that day he was born.

I thought that it would be appropriate for a proud father to share a little story about Matthew on his birthday. This story takes place at Ft. Richardson, Alaska on a nice summer evening.

At the time, I was working as a Platoon Leader at an isolated NIKE Hercules, surface-to-air missile site called Goose Bay. During my first year at Goose Bay, we flew to and from work in helicopters, the UH-1 (Huey). This is by far the most enjoyable way to go to work, especially for an old goat like me who despises driving in traffic. My favorite time to fly was during snow storms on winter mornings anytime before sunrise. The lights from the Hueys would illuminate the falling snow and those magnificent ice floes that packed Cook Inlet down below. I have always thought that it was such a wonderful ride to work. Now, I tend to think that snow is meant for young people and polar bears.

Unfortunately, we lost this flying privilege after the first year and we began driving round trip everyday. The trip from Ft. Rich to Goose Bay was 65 miles; 130 miles round trip every day...what a treat when you have 9 months of winter. For another two years I got to enjoy that lovely winter wonderland commute.

During this timeframe, Matthew's mother was at home all day with him and had decided to do some babysitting to supplement our meager Lieutenant's income. One of the Security NCOs who worked on our site at Goose Bay by the name of (and I kid you not) Roy Rogers, had a daughter about Matthew's age and a set of twin babies. So she took on the task of babysitting for Roy and Lynn Rogers.

Normally when I came home from work in the evening, Matthew and his mother would be there waiting on me. On one nice summer evening after the long drive home from work, I found the house deserted. The doors were open, the lights were on, the TV was on, but there wasn't anyone at home and there weren't any notes left explaining their absence. I wandered around the neighborhood looking for the two of them and asking if anyone had seen them. Keep in mind now (and this may be especially tough for you young folks) that there were no cell phones at that time, so I couldn't just call them and see where they were.

For you parents out there, you can probably imagine what a disconcerting process this can be when the two people you care for the most are missing and you don't know where to look. I decided that I should call Lynn Rogers to see if she knew anything about their disappearance. When Lynn told me what had happened, I nearly came apart. Lynn explained that Matthew had been run over by her car and his mother had taken him to the hospital. I immediately took off for the hospital at Elmendorf Air Force Base.

Lynn Rogers had an Opel Kadett, which is a small car, but to a young lad like Matthew, it was plenty big. When Lynn came to pick up her kids after work that afternoon, she and Matthew's mother each carried one of the twins out to the car while Matthew and (I believe her name was Andrea) ran out to the car. Andrea jumped into the car while Matthew ran around the front of the car. When Andrea jumped in she knocked the gear shift out of gear and the car started rolling down the hill. Matthew was knocked down and one of the front tires ran across his chest. It left a tire mark across his shirt.

As I raced across Ft. Rich and Elmendorf, so many things were going through my mind. It was an experience that I hope I never have to repeat. I rushed to the Emergency Room and there they were sitting out in the hall. He was just sitting there on her lap as if nothing had happened. The feeling of relief that I had at that moment is beyond explanation.

If I hadn't personally witnessed his birth, I would have sworn he had come to us from planet Krypton. I suppose at that young age, his rib cage was just pliable enough to absorb that weight. For whatever the reason, he wasn't hurt at all. Every since that day, he's been really good about not running in front of cars and now at almost a third of the way to 100 years, he too, is working at The Big Fenced in Place.

So...from your old Dad...Happy Birthday Matthew.