Dear Ron,
I woke up early this morning, with a lot of kaleidescoping memories about my experiences in La Republica de Panama, which I now know, were stimulated by your series of articles, my friend, about the history of Panama and the building of the Panama Canal.
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So, here I am, at 5:22 a.m., on a Sunday morning, reminiscing with you, about what happened to me as a teen-ager, (nearly 56 years ago!), in a foreign country.
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As I look back on my life, on all the changes in occupations, residences, relationships, and many varied experiences, it truly seems, perhaps as you, my classmate, may also feel, that in some very real way, we have already lived several lifetimes.
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One of those lifetimes, was with you, one of my many classmates, (some of them from 68 years ago!)
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Another of those lifetimes, was my experiences, for over 3 1/2 years, as a U.S. Army Military Policeman in Panama.
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Both of these lifetimes, early schooling and Panama, have had influences in my life, throughout my life, and still influence me, and my core values, today.
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Among the many high school experiences, which contributed to who I am today, I shall pick out only three.
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One as a writer, another as a boxer, and the third as a singer.
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During our 45th year class reunion, one of my senior year classmates approached me and said, "Bob, I was so mad at that English Teacher that accused you of copying that article, when I knew that you had written it."
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That Senior English Teacher's accusaton, encouraged me to offer to write on any theme the teacher suggested, as proof that I had not copied the article, which as I remember, was about an imaginary trip down into the Grand Canyon.
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My teacher's denial of my "ability," had a profound impact on me, all the moreso, because he made his accusation in our Senior English Class.
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My Senior Year high school poetry, was also encouraged by several of you, who were kind enough to type those poems, usually of a nature theme.
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I also boxed for the first time, in my high school senior year.
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I know, now, that I volunteered to do so, because of fear.
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I had been physically bullied, (as had my two younger brothers, now deceased, Raymond, and Richard) repeatedly, by several other students, and none of us ever thought of ourselves as a fighter.
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Boxing was a way for me to face the fear of being physically hurt.
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Some of you may remember that my first fight in the highschool boxing ring, was with Whitey (Jim) Achterberg, who was a heavyweight.
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My highschool fighting weight was 152 pounds.
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Jim probably weighed around 200, or so.
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I remember Coach Siewert asking me to fight Whitey, and today, am still amazed, that he asked me to do so.
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I thnk it very probable, that Coach Siewert saw something in me, at that time, that I did not see in myself.
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The results of that fight, justified Coach Siewert's, apparent "faith" in me.
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The final public highschool boxing match, was with Peter Boylan III.
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My copy of the Portage Paper's description of that boxing match with Peter, reveal an aggressive side to my nature, that I did not know existed.
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My high school and U.S. Army buddy, Vance Hanson, also was a good and feisty boxer that year.
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Choral or group singing in grade school, highschool, and church, provided an impetus, and inspiration, that has remained with me to this day.
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On July 1,1953, Vance and I were sworn into the U.S. Army. I was just 3 1/2 months past 17.
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We had eight weeks of infantry training (at that time Camp Gordon, Georgia), with many kinds of weapons, followed by another eight weeks, of Military Police Training.
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After our November 1953 furlough, Vance was sent to Germany, and I, to Panama, via the U.S.S. Goethals, which was a leisurely trip for me, as I volunteered to write for the ship's newspaper!   :-)
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In December, of 1953, I arrived at Fort Kobbe, Panama Canal Zone, to begin work, and another life, as a 17 year old Military Policeman, eventuallly performing duties in the jungle, high seas, base gate, and patrol.
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Wthin a few years, my interactions with Panamanians, resulted in a considerable Spanish vocablary and basic conversational ability. So much so, that I became the key translator in our Military Police Unit for non-Engish speaking suspects.
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I also learned Spanish, in Panama, independently, by learning what every word meant in some of the popular Spanish songs, including some of the very emotional, and poignat love songs, such as: Historia De Un Amor (Love Story), and Espereme En El Cielo, Corazon (Wait For Me, In Heaven, My Beloved), songs which I still sing, and remember, word for word (as I did, in another lifetime, in a Panamanian night club).   :-)
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Interestingly enough, my mother has repeatedly asked me to sing in Spanish, even though she doesn't understand a single word of Spanish!
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In Panama, I did not fear the jungle animals, as many did, thus I was "on call" for any jungle animals which wandered into the base quarters areas, and over the years, "collected" many jungle reptiles and mammals (one of them a 5 1/2 foot iguana lizard, that I captured alive). The lady who made the call, said that she had an alligator in her yard, and, it really did resemble an alligator.   :-)
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I fought in the military for two boxing seasons, my last two years in Panama, around '56 and '57, and was Kobbe middleweight runner-up, and base champion, in successive years, both years participating in memorable fights in the Panama Area Armed Forces Tournaments.
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Panama boxing brings back 3 vivid memories:
1. The first, of being "booed" by several thousand soldiers before the fight began, because the Military Police on our base, were not well liked.
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To have several thousand people project their dislike onto you, noisily, in public, is devastating.
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I remember asking myself, "What am I doing here?"
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I know now, that the answer, was again, my early fears from being bullied, and being physically hurt.
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At the time though, it was just something that I thought I had to do, without really understanding why.
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It is only now, that I realize that those early, fearful, "voluntary gladiator" experiences, were very helpful in my surviving several later traumatic assaults, and physical confrontations, since then. Including several in which I was "ambushed" and physically hurt (including, my spitting out teeth, etc.)
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2. The second event was winning my first three military matches with first round knock-outs.
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Nobody was more surprised than I.
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I was just trying to keep from getting killed. (Which thousands were hoping would happen!)
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The Panama Daily Herald referred to me as "the panther-like M.P. from Kobbe."
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My military police commander even wrote a specific, detailed letter of commendation, to the major army newspaper.
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That first year, I received the Best Sportsmanship Award as a boxer, from the base commander.
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No one was more surprised, than I, of my sudden "notoriety."   :-)
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People later told me, that my dad, Charles Thompson, carried some of those newspaper clippings, and fotos, with him to share with many in the Portage area.
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3. The third boxing event, is etched in my memory.
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As I was leaving the ring, after a fight in the Panama Area Armed Forces Boxing Tounament, I was given a standing ovation, from the spectators, for a fight that I lost.
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It may well have been, my very best fight, ever.   :-)
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I wonder, with wonder, to this day, what prompted those spectators, to spontaneously rise to their feet, to applaud the bloodied loser, as he was leaving the ring?
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I suspect, they saw something in me, which I, am only now, just beginning to see in myself.
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I wonder, with wonder. :-)
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I really, really do.
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My military boxing trainers, assured me, that one day, I would be fighting professionally, and that they would be reading about it.
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When I asked them why they believed that, they said, "Because you have a fighting heart. The techniques of boxing can be learned. But, a fighting heart, is something that you are born with. You can not learn that. You either have it, or you don't. We see it in you, that's why we know we will be reading about you, fighting professionally, someday."
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I thought about it.
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Until I was in a serious auto accident that changed the shape of my skull.   :-)
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During this same time, the writing continued during the Panama years. My Aunt Eva gave me a poem I wrote to her, from the fifties, in Panama. I remember that I was inspired to write it, after listenting to, The Blue Danube Waltz.
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And even now, I am still writing, as in this letter to all of you. :-)
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Also, still song writing and singing, even in public, (acappella, solo, and with Kathy), as during the last two high school class reunions.
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My interest in Spanish led to a B.S. with a Spanish Major, from Loyala University in Chicago.
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I did the testing and oral interview for a   U.S. Treasury Agent position and was offered the position, and about to accept, when a Loyala University, Spanish Literature Professor, suggested that I interview for a Spanish Teaching position at St.George's Christian Brothers High School (at that time, in Evanston, Illinois). . The principal at that school, Brother Luke, told me that I would do well at either job, The Treasury Department, or teaching Spanish.
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Brother Luke turned out to be even craftier than what i imagined.  
:-)
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My decision was further complicated by the Treasury Department assuring me of a successful career.
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At that time, in the mid-sixties, they were looking for people who had a background, in either police work, or Spanish, or a college degree. And I had all three.
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Crafty, Brother Luke, had the final word, when he said, "Bob, go where you can do the most good."
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And that is how I became a teacher for 14 years, which resulted in my eventually becoming a consultant for the Illinois Bilingual Programs, assisiting in initiating, monitoring, and evaluating bilingual programs throughout the state.
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And, one of the first officers of the newly formed, Illinois (TESOL), Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages.
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Brother Luke also sent me to Saltillo, Mexico for two weeks each summer, to travel with, chaperone, and supervise St. George students, while they were studying in Mexico.
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(Brother Luke, over-ruled the Modern Language Chairman's desire to go.)
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I suspect that my 12 years of military and corporate "police work,"was a contributing factor.
(perhaps, even the boxing?)   :-)
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In Chicago's bilingual community, in a sense, I was a fish swimming in strange waters, because of the hidden, and not so hidden, reverse discrimination, in the late sixties, and thereafter.
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Of the four Illinois Bilingual Consultants, I was the only non-hispanic, a factor which was highlighted for not hiring me. :-)
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However, those who had talked to, and evaluated my students, thought otherwise. .
One of them was a Puerto Rican grandmother, and community leader, who asked me to share a Chicago, Spanish television interview with her.
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I visited all my students' parents, at their homes, and, taught some of their parents English, at night school.
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The Chicago Puerto Rican Congress, gave me their "humanitarian award for services to the Chicago hispanic community." during their annual Puerto Rican Ball.
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Heady stuff for a non-hispanic who was told by one hispanic militant, "You're a nice guy, Bob, too bad your last name is Thompson."
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Spanish brought me back to Wisconsin and the Pardeeville High School, in
1967.
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And Spanish followed me into my 13 years as an officer in the Wisconsin Correctional System.
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Spanish proved invaluable, in communicating with Mexican, Puerto Rican, and especially, Cuban inmates.
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I also accepted an additional task of routinely monitoring all inmate mail, written in Spanish from our institution (Fox Lake Correctinal Institution), that went to other penal institutions, nationwide.
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A task that gave me a unique and exceptional insight, into the hispanic inmates, and their personal communications with each other.
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It was also, repeatedly suggested to me, by prison supervisors, that the State Prison, Hostage Negotiating Team, had no Spanish speaking negotiators.
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Thus, I was persuaded to take intermittent, additional hostage negotiation training, for 5 years, at the county, state, and federal level.
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Spanish has not only been an ongoing thread in my life, but in my three (of 6) eldest children as well.
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All three learned Spanish very young, and my two eldest sons lived with their Panamanian grandmother, in Panama, for their first two years, and so, Spanish is, their first language, and has had a major impact on their personal and professional lives.
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Gary's first position as an attorney in Chicago, had Spanish speaking, as a job requirement.
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And now, as a law partner, in Lake County, Illinois, Gary routinely handles cases, and trials, where a substantial portion of his clients are Spanish speaking.
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His brother, Todd, in corporate marketing, was the only North American sent to Brazil for a month long, daily, intensive, advanced, corporate marketing training program, with 30 or so selected peers from the various countries in Central and South America.
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The participants, knew in advance, that there was one North American in the group, but they didn't know who.
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So they asked each other, "¿Quién es el gringo?" (Who is the North
American?)
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They even asked Todd, who then pointed to himself.   :-)
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So, I have written about a few of the threads from my high school "daze." :-)
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Singing, stimulated by school and church.
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The writing, stimulated, somewhat, by an accusation.
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And boxing, stimulated, certainly, by fear.
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Both of which, I took with me as a 17 year old, to Panama.
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Where another thread, Spanish, was added to the tapestry of me.
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In conclusion, I visited Panama about 10 years ago, when my son Todd was working for Nestle's Central American Division, and based in Panama City.
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During that visit, my Panamanian nephew Jorge (A Panama Canal Captain), took me for a ride in which he, Jorge was delivering workers and ship captains, by boat, to various locations in the Panama Canal.
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I had the opportunity to drive a 60 passenger boat, in the Panama Canal, for about 10 miles, steering between the colorful green and red buoys, on either side of the canal.
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My old army base, Fort Kobbe (formerly Howard Air Force Base), is now a Panmanian residential area.
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And the Miraflores (look, flowers!) Bridge, where I waited for many a ship to pass into the locks, for the swinging bridge to be re-opened to auto traffic, has long been replaced by a much larger bridge, carrying traffic high over the canal.
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With Jorge, I had the opportunity to enter the Panama Canal Communications Building on the Atlantic Ocean side of the Panama Canal, where dozens of boats, including 3 cruise ships, were waiting to transit the canal.
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The electronic monitoring, and visuals, of the ships awaiting entry into the Canal, were mid boggling.
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Television monitors contained an encyclopedia of information, about every ship awaiting transit!
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Singing, writing, and boxing.
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All shared in highschool, so many years ago.
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For all of these experiences, I am grateful.
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And filled with awe.
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Thanks, Ron, for triggering all these memories.
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Your classmate of '53,
Bob Thompson