
When I reminisce about my time out west while in the Navy, the memories can come and go, some never return (thankfully), and are lost forever but there are others that stay in my mind because of the significance of the event. I know I told this story a few years back on a local podcast and I’m pretty sure Lisa has heard it at least a half dozen times, but I still like telling it because it was one of my more memorable near-death experiences while in the Navy. In my latter years in the Navy, I developed a successful process by which I would analyze a situation and the outcome of my actions. It’s called “Operational Risk Management”, or ORM for short. It is a process by which I would ask myself if it was worth doing, not worth doing, or maybe even overdoing it a little bit. In some situations, the process is not worth doing, but when you add a couple cold drinks, good ORM can turn into bad ORM in a hurry.
I was going on my tenth year in the Navy and by then I had it all figured out. I was at my peak when it came to being bullet-proof and some may argue that I was too stupid to be scared during that period of my life. Being in a F-14 Tomcat fighter squadron had that effect on young sailors like me and I learned very quickly after joining the squadron that you had to be tough to be in the squadron. The Tomcat was an older fighter, and it always had older aircraft problems. Every day I went into work, there was something different to work on. They say that it took 72 man-hours to fly the Tomcat one flight hour, and I don’t dispute that for a minute. I’ve seen everything from squirrels invading our hanger at night and chewing through bundles of wiring in the aircraft avionics bays to exploding engines and subsequent flaming fireballs on engine startups. It was hard work for sure, but you know what they say, work hard, play hard. That’s what I did, I still don’t know why I played hard, but I guess my brain wasn’t fully developed so I did stupid stuff from time to time. For some reason I liked to hang out in bars during this time period, more specifically, bars with pool tables so I could pass the time shooting pool. Since I was a boy, I spent time in the pool halls. My grandfather would take me when I was young and while he played dominoes with his veteran friends, I would occupy my time in the back of the bar playing pool. I’ve always played pool somewhere. Even now I have a billiard room complete with a 9-foot table to remind me of earlier times and the fun I’d had over the years playing pool.
When my roommate Frank and I rented a house out in Santee, a suburb of San Diego, we found a local bar with a pool table just down the road from our house. Our house had a pool table, but we liked to hang out at the bar, drinking beer and shooting pool from time to time. After we got to know the bartender and the owner of the bar, Frank and I joined a coed billiard team that consisted of myself, Frank and two women we had met at the bar that like to shoot pool. We had befriended Teri and Lisa, our partners and teammates, both single and they were pretty good pool players. We decided to form a coed team and shoot pool in a local pool league that traveled around to different bars in the area and competed with other coed teams. It was a lot of fun, and it was pretty cool to compete with other pool players to match my skill against others. Between the four of us, we were pretty competitive and personally, I loved the attention of having an audience while shooting pool in competition.
This was the early 90’s and back then there was no internet to surf or cell phones to call people on a whim, and one way of meeting people to date was the classified ads in the newspaper. In San Diego there was a dating service or “dating club” in the classified ads that guaranteed one fully vetted date each month for a year for $100.00 a month and you had to pay for something like 6 months up front. The dating service catered to the upper income crowd who wanted to be more discrete in their social life, and that’s where Lisa came in. She was a very successful realtor in the San Diego area, and she wanted to meet a man who was very financially stable, and looking for a partner in her age group, which was late forties to early fifties at the time. It was her first date since joining the dating club and she was excited. She knew very little about her date, other than that he was in his late forties and an officer in the military, but she was very optimistic. They had discussed a Friday night outing for dinner, and drinks afterwards at our local bar. It was all set up and Lisa wanted a way out of the date just in case things weren’t going well, so that’s where I came in. Lisa wanted me to hang out at the bar for a while and she would give me a report after they got to the bar and after Lisa got to know Bill. The fact that I was in the Navy, and bullet proof of course, may come in handy later in her evening if the guy turned out to be a flake. If he was a weirdo, then the date would end at the bar, and I would give Lisa a ride back home. That was the plan.
I gotta say that I was a little skeptical about the dating service that Lisa had joined. I worried that there may be some rich men with bad morals in the dating site and I wondered how well the men were vetted. The night finally came, and I was poised at a barstool positioned at the very end of the bar and it was very crowded for a Friday night. By the time Lisa and her date came in, it was standing room only in the bar and I was waiting patiently for my turn at the pool table. I had already consumed a couple beers and I was feeling pretty good about my chances once I got to the pool table. It was just my kind of night with the large crowd in the bar. A large crowd in the bar meant a large crowd watching the billiard games in the back. They had one pool table in the back of the bar and the area always gathered a crowd if someone good was playing pool. I wanted that someone to be me, so I waited for my quarters to come up. When Lisa and her date came through the door, they were greeted by some of the regulars at the bar as they made their way towards the back of the bar at the other end from where I was sitting. Lisa and I made eye contact as they came in and I could tell by her smile, it was going well. The bar was long and stretched from the front of the room to the back with bar stools all the way down and around the bar. It had to be 60-80 feet in length and there was also a small dance floor in the room. It was shoulder to shoulder as Lisa and Bill settled in to an area at the back of the bar and I could see from a distance that her date Bill was larger and older looking. At first, I thought that he looked too old to be actively in the Navy but he also looked big and was taller than most of the folks around him as he walked to the back of the bar. I watched them chatting with one another and soon I saw Lisa pointing my way as if explaining to Bill who I was. I could see them both looking at me and having a conversation, so I assumed that Lisa was telling Bill about me. Soon I saw Lisa heading my way as Bill stayed at the other end of the bar. I was in full protection mode by then and Lisa sounded excited when we greeted each other. She explained that he was a true gentleman and was very kind. She liked him because he seemed so upfront, honest and outgoing about his work. When I asked her what he did for a living she responded that he was a Commando in Navy SEALs.
This is probably where I should jump in and explain a few things about Navy SEALs and the eighties and early nineties. Back then the Navy SEALs stayed in the shadows. They led very private lives and unless you were told that someone was a Navy SEAL, you’d probably never know they existed. They were never on your local news channel, never on CNN and they led very private lives. About all I knew about Navy SEALs was from my only encounter with them during Navy boot camp and that was a rough night of fun and games as punishment for something I did. If you go to my “Sea Stories” section of the blog or do a search and find the story “The Marching Party” you’ll find out all about my encounter with the SEALs early on in my career. I had also read a couple of Richard Marcinko’s “Rogue Warrior” novels and if you ever get the chance, the “Rogue Warrior” novels are a great way to get familiar with the Navy SEALs and what they do. That’s about all I had to go by at the time, but I did know that the chance of running across a real Navy SEAL was pretty slim when out in a small bar in a small suburb of San Diego. Since SEALs in that era like to lead private lives and leave a very small footprint, I changed all the names in story out of respect for Bill. The rest of the events that happened next are all true though.
So, Lisa tells me that her date was a Navy SEAL Commando and immediately I raised the bullshit flag. I didn’t know much about the Navy SEALs but what I did know was that there was no chance that a crusty old dude standing at the other end of the bar was a Navy SEAL Commando. The term “Commando” wasn’t a term I was familiar with, and I told Lisa that her date may be a phony. I was getting a little defensive and stolen valor was a thing, even back then. I asked Lisa if she would kindly ask the gentlemen that I would like to see him and his military ID if he wouldn’t mind, so off she went. Hindsight dictates that this is where things should have been handled differently but once again, I didn’t use good ORM, and I was setting myself up for trouble. I wanted to make a point with this so-called Navy “Commando” imposter and to ask another man for their military ID at a bar with a date on a Friday night isn’t good military protocol unless you’re looking for a fight. By this time, I was getting fired up and I watched as Lisa explained to the old guy that I was interested in him and his identification at the other end of the bar. I knew that if I got up from the stool I was sitting on, I’d lose my seat, so I waited on Lisa’s return, and had some casual conversation with my neighbors at the bar.
When Lisa finally came back, she handed me an ID card and it was a military ID card for sure. I quickly looked at the back and saw an 0-5 under the rank box and I did a double take. I also noticed a Geneva code that further assured me that it was real. There was a moment of shock as I stared at the card and at that very moment Lisa said, “he says he wants to see your ID card”. That was when a cold chill shot down my spine and I knew that it was about to get real with a Commander in the Navy. I may have bit off a little more than I could chew and when I looked down at the other end of the bar Bill was gone. In another moment I felt this large body just behind me and to my left and when I turned to look, it was Bill hovering over me. He was huge and wide, well over 6 feet in height and he had this look on his face like he wasn’t playing ID card games anymore. I was still sitting on my barstool, but I felt like I was about to take a giant ass stomping from the sitting position to the ground in one fluent motion. Another cold chill ran down my spine and I stood up to face the music. I will say this, Bill’s stare was cold, his eyes were somewhat squinted and black. At times his stare was chilling, for lack of a better word. I’ve been in a few fights in my life, but I’ll say this about that moment in time, when I looked in this man’s eyes, it was like he was looking right through me. I don’t know if it was gut instinct or the Holy Spirit telling me not to screw with this guy or Jello could be on my menu for the next several months while the facial bones healed. I didn’t know where this was going but just about the time I expected the encounter to escalate into a scene, Bill broke out into a smile and stuck out his hand to shake my hand. Talk about a relief! It was like every muscle in my body relaxed and went limp. I thought for sure there was going to be a fight, but I was so relieved to see he was friendly to me. I explained that the mix-up was that he was a Commander in the Navy and not a Commando. We laughed as we shook hands, and I will say this about that moment, I’m very thankful that there were no punches thrown because Bill had huge hands that were very hard and callused. Not the kind of hand or fist you want upside your head in a fight. Bill told me that he was a Navy SEAL and had been for quite a few years. He worked down at Coronado Island and was coming to the end of his career and thinking about retirement after twenty some years of service. We talked about my job in the Navy, and he was very curious about what the aviation side of the Navy was like. He came from the Midwest as did I, so we hit it off from the start and talked about where we grew up hunting and fishing.
At the time, it didn’t really dawn on me that I was just a little E-5 turning wrenches on fighter jets while making friends with a Navy SEAL with twenty-some years in the Navy and the rank of Commander. I never really advertised it much and I kinda knew that Bill’s life was somewhat clandestine after chatting with him a bit. I didn’t really ask a lot about his operations or his past history as I figured that some of those things would probably be better left unsaid. I could tell Bill had been around and I just knew that he was one heck of a warrior from the get-go. He really wanted to hear about my adventures, which at times kept the conversation from his adventures. I think he was genuinely interested in aviation and always enjoyed conversations about our travels with the squadron, but he was somewhat vague and elusive when it came to exactly what he did.
Eventually Tina and I found a house and moved in together and Frank moved in with his new girlfriend, but we continued to shoot pool together on the coed league. Lisa and Tina were best friends, and they liked to hang out together. We had a swimming pool and jacuzzi at our house and Lisa and Bill were our guests on a few occasions to swim or sit in the jacuzzi drinking wine. Bill was between deployments to Iraq during Desert Storm when we met, and we got to spend some time together at the bar shooting pool and at the house hanging out at the pool. Bill was somewhat of an introvert and told me one time that he was most comfortable while overseas working. He said that when he was in the states there was a lot of responsibilities to take care of but when he was overseas, he could just focus on his job and no utility payments, car payments, insurance, mortgage, etc., just his job. I totally understood what he was talking about. It was the same when I was away from home on a detachment. It was a pretty weird friendship to have between a Navy SEAL officer and an Enlisted E-5 wrench turner from Miramar, but our girlfriends were best friends, so we were kind of thrown into the friendship. Bill liked hanging out with us though, and he was a lot of fun to have around at the bar. We traveled a lot during this time period so there were times that Bill was gone, or I was traveling with my squadron, but when we were both in town we would get together at the house or spend a weekend in Vegas with the girls. Unfortunately, Bill had to deploy again to Iraq, and I was transferring to Louisiana from San Diego. After I got to Louisiana, I had gotten word that Bill had returned from his deployment to Iraq and received a silver star as well as being promoted to Captain. That was quite an honor for him for sure and I wanted to congratulate him in person if I could. I was coming up for another 4-year re-enlistment and I called Bill to ask if he would swear me in for another four-year tour in the Navy. He told me that since the fast boats that the SEALs used for operations were being built at a shipyard in the New Orleans area and he could kill two birds with one stone he would be there. He said he needed to visit the shipyard and check on the boats being built for the SEALs and he would be happy to drop by the squadron and swear me in. He just asked that we kept it semi-private because he didn’t want to draw a lot of attention to himself while visiting.
When I told my Commanding Officer that a friend of mine that was a Navy Captain and a Navy SEAL would be dropping in to the squadron to swear me in, I got a pretty funny look from the CO. He wanted to make sure we gave Bill all the honors he deserved without making a big deal out of it, so we kept it to ourselves until the day arrived. I was really anxious to see Bill in his uniform with his Trident, a fresh silver star to go with a couple of bronze stars and Captains bars. I’d never seen him all dressed up before, but on my re-enlistment day in the early afternoon, he pulled up in a rental car and walked through the halls of the squadron to re-enlist me in his uniform. We set up a private room for the ceremony and my Commanding Officer as well as our Executive Officer were present to greet Bill. Bill was a Captain in rank which outranked both the CO and XO of my squadron. It was very interesting to see how the other officers acted around Bill and I’m sure they were very perplexed at how we had become friends. Bill and I explained to the officers that were present how we became friends and then Bill swore me in for another 4-year tour. It was a very proud moment in my career, and I was very thankful that Bill took time out of his schedule to come and swear me in. Bill took the time to chat with some of the officers and pilots that were in the area, and it was very cool to show Bill around the hangar and the aircraft where I worked. It was a very special day for me.
That was the last time I saw Bill, but he and Lisa went on to marry and as far as I know, they still reside in Florida somewhere, but we lost touch years ago. In the Navy friends come and go but the memories last forever. I’ve always had a profound respect for our Navy SEALs and the job that they are tasked with. They are truly our unsung heroes.



































































































































































