Fifty years ago, after living in Houston and the surrounding area for nearly 5 years, I was leaving, never to return other than for a very few visits. I was 19, almost 20.
I didn’t plan to never return. That’s just how life worked out.
I had signed up to join the Navy at some previous date. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, going in between Christmas and the beginning of the New Year was based on the occupational track I was enlisting for. It worked out well for me. While others had temporary duty assignments waiting for one school or another to begin, I stepped through all four stages of my Navy occupation training in sequence, with just enough time for leave and travel between each one.
My journey began at Houston MEPS—Military Entrance Processing Station— at the historic Old U.S. Customs House in the heart of downtown where three or four of us were sworn in as navy recruits. From there, we were transported to the new Houston Intercontinental Airport—opened just 2 1/2 years before—where we would be on flying standby.
Flying standby meant showing up at an airport without a pre-purchased ticket and hoping to get on a flight. It wasn’t our choice—it was MEPS—and we weren’t paying. Back then, flights were often far less filled than they are today, so flying standby must have a good option for a federal passenger. It seemed odd at the time. It seems odd, looking back at it.
We did get on the flight and a couple of us, at least, ended up in first class. It was my first flight ever and the only time I’ve ever flown first-class. Everyone on the flight got food and drinks, of course, but the booze cost extra, except in first-class (The food was probably better in first-class, too). The drinking age in many parts of the US had been dropped to 18—and it may have been 18 for air flights, though I don’t remember being asked how old I was. I drank enough to be a bit buzzed by the time we got to San Diego.
Our flight had a connection in Los Angeles, then continued on to San Diego. Along with others arriving from elsewhere, we boarded a bus to the Naval Training Center. I spent New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day in the transient barracks. On January 2, 1972, Boot Camp Company 005, and others, was formed.
