My Redacted Life: Chapter Two: (Cont. _ 4)

So here I was, a mid-twenties vagabond, just released from the military going to a city I knew nothing about and not optimistic at all. An recent acquaintance said he knew two young urban planners who had started a consulting firm in Little Rock. That’s all I knew. More on that later.

It was 1970 and nearing the end of the so-called “Great Society Era.” More on that later.

A bit about me. I had quit smoking two years before. I moved from sometimes three packs a day while overseas (depending on how the six-hour watches fell) to zero cigarettes per day in one four-hour period. Quitting is that easy. You just stop. You don’t use medication. You don’t brag about your efforts. Your don’t do it gradually. You don’t make a big fuss about it. You just goddam quit.

You also get fat if you’re not careful.

I had quit my second day aboard the USS Hunley. Navy ships serve four meals a day, one of them at midnight (Midrats) for those going on, or coming off, watch. Guess who, with a newly found and ravenous appetite availed himself. Yep. Oh, and there was a "Gedunk Bar" on board that stayed open from eight to 12 bells. It specialized in calories and I was a regular.

So I wasn’t the very picture of a modern urban heartthrob as I motored toward Little Rock. Overweight and wearing cheap “civilian” clothes, I probably looked like an applicant for a Fuller Brush job. Oh, I was a handsome devil to those discerning souls who chose to look beyond mere physical appearance into the more meaningful character of a person. (I’ll have more on that later).

I was mentally visiting another planet when I reached the outskirts of Little Rock, When I returned to the actual moment, I was surprised to see two new modern office towers rising above the downtown area, dwarfing a third, the Tower Building. It had been built while I was in college, as part of an urban renewal program.

It struck me, the sight did, not a blinding strike, such as the one Saul of Tarsus experienced on the Road To Damascus, but an eye-opening strike. Here was modern American city in need of a new band of heroes. My eyes opened to new possibilities. Scenes swirled in my head, and none involved the State of California.

I squirmed in my car seat and straightened Daddy’s old “wedding and funeral” tie.

Look out Little Rock.

Look out World.

Tell me more about
urban planning. I'm
terribly interested.