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    My Story by Years: The Life and Times of Julius Neal Clemmer Lt. Col. Usaf (Ret.)
    My Story by Years: The Life and Times of Julius Neal Clemmer Lt. Col. Usaf (Ret.)
    My Story by Years: The Life and Times of Julius Neal Clemmer Lt. Col. Usaf (Ret.)
    Ebook214 pages1 hour

    My Story by Years: The Life and Times of Julius Neal Clemmer Lt. Col. Usaf (Ret.)

    By Julius Neal Clemmer

    ()

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    About this ebook

    This is a story of my life that was written for my family.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXlibris US
    Release dateJan 30, 2018
    ISBN9781543473551
    My Story by Years: The Life and Times of Julius Neal Clemmer Lt. Col. Usaf (Ret.)

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      Book preview

      My Story by Years - Julius Neal Clemmer

      Copyright © 2018 by Julius Neal Clemmer. 772286

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2017919339

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      Cover image from www.nasa.gov.

      Interior images from http://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil

      Rev. date: 03/16/2018

      Xlibris

      1-888-795-4274

      www.Xlibris.com

      CONTENTS

      Chapter I The First Decade

      Chapter II The Second Decade

      Chapter III The Third Decade

      Chapter IV The Fourth Decade

      Chapter V The Fifth Decade

      Chapter VI The Sixth Decade

      Chapter VII The Seventh Decade

      Chapter VIII The Eighth Decade

      Chapter IX The Ninth Decade

      Chapter X The Tenth Decade

      Annex A Family History

      A Biographic History Of The Clemmer Family

      Genealogy Of Joseph Neal And Elizabeth Ann Clemmer

      I

      dedicate this book to my grandmother

      Rhoda Elisabeth McKenzie Lear,

      For she made me what I am and have been.

      CHAPTER I

      THE FIRST DECADE

      Year 1923. This all began on January 26. All I know about that day is on my birth certificate. The certificate states that I was born to Colinetta Lear Clemmer and Julius Neal Clemmer.

      19485-CLEM-Image01.tif

      However, there is a picture that was taken when I was six months old. It seems my grandmother said, If no one else will take a picture of this child, I will. She dressed me up and took me to the photographer, and here is the result.

      Year 1924. These are some of the pictures that I think were taken around this time. Other than them I have no memory of 1924.

      25230.jpg

      The tree behind my grandmother was a mulberry tree that had to be removed.

      Year 1925. This seems to be a picture of me in front of Grandmother’s house. It was about this time that they had to fence the backyard. The reason for fencing was that I had started to roam. The picture below is of my grandfather Lear with Betty and me in the wheelbarrow. With Grandmother Lear, I looked to be in the terrible twos.

      25264.png

      Year 1926. By this year, we were playing with the neighborhood children, one of whom was Keith Wayne Nelson. Keith and I were friends for many years. It was on my third birthday when I received a tricycle. We were living in Sioux City at this time. The delivery man brought it to the door, and I immediately got on to ride and rode into the dining room table. With that, my mother put me back down to take a nap.

      The sad fact is that the trike outlasted my mother.

      Judging from my size, I would have to guess that I was probably three years old when this picture was taken. It was on the Will Brooks farm, west of Whiting, Iowa.

      19485-CLEM-Image06.tif

      Year 1927. I have a vague recollection that something significant happened during this time. My friend Keith was born in St. Louis, Missouri, and there was a connection to that and the Spirit of St. Louis. I had no idea what it meant to fly an airplane or what the Atlantic Ocean was about. Later in life, I was to fly airplanes and cross the Atlantic Ocean eighteen times as of this writing.

      It was during these years that we went barefoot during the summer. In the fall, we went downtown Omaha to buy new shoes. When your mother thought you had a good fit, they would put your feet into a fluoroscope to see where the toe bones came in reference to the end of the shoe. It is a wonder that we all don’t have foot problems from all the x-rays.

      At this time, when all mothers stayed home, they had the service of home delivery. The milk was left at the door every day (in glass bottles), and the bakery man came with the baked goods. The interesting thing is that they came in horse-drawn wagons. The horses knew the customers and stopped at the right houses every time. If the delivery man walked to the next house, he would whistle and the horse would go to the next house and stop.

      Year 1928. This is the fall when my formal education began My kindergarten teacher had had my mother as a student. The kindergarten was divided into two halves. Half started in the fall, and half started in January. I started in January, but my friend Keith started in September, so when I saw Keith, I moved over and sat with the fall group, and the teacher said, Let him stay. I gained half a year of schooling. The school was Saratoga, and our colors were green and white. Every fall, we get new pen wipers for the top of the ink bottle. It was a square of green felt on the bottom with a smaller square of white felt cloth on the top, held in place on the cork of the ink bottle with a thumbtack. The inkwell was located on the upper right-hand corner of the desk. Everyone was supposed to be right-handed, including me. So at an early age, I was converted to being right-handed. Perhaps that has had something to do with my dyslexia.

      It was during this time when my aunt Eleanor married Arthur Graham and brought the Graham children into our lives—Dorothy, Art Jr., and Bob.

      Also, about now, we were living with Grandmother Lear on Twenty-Fourth Street. My other grandparents, the Clemmers, lived on Saratoga Street, which was only a few blocks away. It was my habit to frequently visit Saratoga. One summer day, I went into the house on Saratoga, and on the floor on a blanket was a baby. I asked Grandmother Clemmer, Whose baby is this? She replied, It’s your uncle Bob’s. With this great piece of information, I ran home to spread the good news.

      I arrived home and told my mother and my grandmother that Uncle Bob had a baby. I was immediately informed that Uncle Bob did not have a baby. The reason given was that he was not married. It was many years later that this baby contacted me for information about our family. I knew immediately it was the baby whom I had seen at Grandmother Clemmer’s house. No one else in the family was aware of her. We made contact, and I saw her several times before she died.

      19485-CLEM-Image07.tif

      This is my cousin Jackie, with her husband Doc, and the author and his wife, Mary Jane.

      Year 1929. The stock market crashed this year, but I have no recollection of the events that took place. As for any outstanding memories of 1929, I have one. My first grade teacher, Bess Howard, was a great woman who stood over six feet, and for a six-year-old, she was a giant. I met her again in 1945 and will cover that later.

      It was during this period of our lives when we spent many happy Sundays picnicking. After church, the picnic basket was packed, and off we went into the country. My father would find a nice spot with shade and, hopefully, running water, and we would lay out the Sunday dinner and picnic. This went on even in the cold winter. I well remember one cold picnic with snow on the ground and ice in the stream bed that we broke out with our feet. Also, it must’ve been during this period that my mother acquired a mastoid infection. She was operated on by the famous Dr. Maxwell, and apparently a bone chip went down the eustachian tube. The bone chip lodged in her lung, creating abscesses. The doctor had dated my aunt Elenore and was called three times to sew up my chin. Once, I was told, he arrived on a motorcycle. In the 1920s, that was a real no-no for a doctor. The good doctor had hunted in Africa and had lion skins on his wall. After his trip to India, he came home with two tiger skins as well. I was greatly impressed!

      Year 1930. Life went on, and school started the day after Labor Day as always. Going to school was never my favorite pastime. During these years, we went to visit the Brooks families in Iowa

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