Biographical Notes reCharles A. (Chuck) StonePage 2 of 6 Pages, of Chapter 9,MOVING ON |
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| I should share with you one interesting coincidence that was part of my introduction to Hqs. USAF. When I was processing in at Bolling AFB, I didn’t realize that Three- Star General William S. Stone was doing the same thing. Further, I did not know he was to become the Director of Personnel, USAF. As we both settled into our jobs, there was an unspoken assumption, by many, that I was one of his relatives being brought along for the ride. As the Camp Perry National Shooting Matches were approaching, that year, I was directed to be his escort officer for his inspection tour. We were going to scoot over from Andrews in one of the new USAF 2 engine executive jets. While I was already checked out in the C-54s at Andrews, I had never set foot in the cockpit of the new executive jets. On the day of the flight I dutifully reported to the aircraft about 30 minutes early. When I walked up to meet the pilot, he said “Has your father showed up yet?” I very quickly advised him that, to my knowledge, General Stone and I were not related and described my duty assignment that caused this togetherness situation. He replied back to me, “Well, I thought you were his scab son going along for the ride.” It kind of dawned on me that day that I had had a number of encounters with people that were treating me as though they were dealing with a box of fresh eggs. You may be assured they soon got over that and were ready to give me the finger or shaft, whichever seemed to be appropriate at the time. General Stone and I got along well and we did compare notes and could not identify any geographic connections. I must confess to you that, when I was at 2nd AF Headquarters, walking down the halls, and passing the portraits of previous commanders, including General Stone, I could see my Grandpa Stone looking down on me. There was a remarkable resemblance. I put the whole thing out of my mind, not wanting folks to get the impression that I was sucking up on my bosses, bosses boss. Strangely enough, General Stone’s Executive Officer had reviewed my records on arrival and, after we had had our first contacts, he tried to have me transferred to his office to become General Stone’s personal pilot. That was a hot subject around there for a while. My bosses went to General LeMay and told him that I had been brought in to the Headquarters to work with one of his favorite programs, Marksmanship and Competition Training. General LeMay passed word down that I would remain in my present job. Without getting carried away with all this, in 1963, this same Lt./Col. Exec. Officer was transferred to the office of the USAF Liaison at the White House and he initiated a new effort to get me transferred over there. That idea was soon shot down, as well, and, I must say, I was most thankful for that. People who worked in that office could almost kiss their family life good-bye. Life moved on with numerous challenges ahead. Back at the Rainbow Inn, my Uncle Herb, the WW I veteran, had died at the Minneapolis VA Hospital in the fall of 1959. I had a chance then to fly a B-25 to Minneapolis and visit him before his death. My uncle Ed had died in 1961, leaving my Mom and Dad in their declining years to make some decisions about their future, already put off for too long a time. It had been my hope that when Nell and I turned the property back over to them, they would soon sell out and clip their coupons. They just couldn’t bare to part with those grounds and that history, but were now forced to take action. The property was sold to a local family that had been in the Christmas Tree Business. They, along with my sister, Pauline, moved into a roomy basement apartment near downtown that served them well. In January, 1963, my Dad died and I took a few weeks leave and flew home to help the family out and especially help my Mother through the ordeal. Mother died about six months after Dad’s death. These natural events occurred in their good time, as they were both loosing their faculties and were ready to depart this life. Their lives had been rich in love and good works. I have always been pleased and proud to have been their fourth child, who turned up rather unexpectedly at the Rainbow Inn. The new Rainbow Inn owner’s dreams of what it took to run a hotel, successfully, did not match the reality of it all. In 1963, on a cold winter night, the hotel burned to the ground. Observers wondered how it could have gone up in smoke so fast, but there were those of us who had a pretty good idea. Another buyer came along who built a motel on the property, but had no vision how the cabins and grounds could be a productive element of the business. In retrospect, I am almost glad the Rainbow Inn burned. That was so much better than seeing it deteriorate, year by year and become a ruined memory. My relationship with the Crossman Arms and the Technicolor Company people continued with increasing vigor. My immediate boss was a shooter at heart, moved to the Headquarters from the Marksmanship School at Lackland, and he was my strongest supporter. I moved ahead with the definition of age divisions to identify the fitness and weight standards for all USAF personnel. After marching the halls with coordination papers until my shoes wore out, and frequent consults with my favorite flight surgeon partner in crime, we finally nailed down the ground rules and published the USAF regulation announcing it as official policy. In the meantime, I was doing my exercises with great regularity to be able to perform, as called upon. Remember this was still a program where each individual got exercise on or off duty, as they might arrange. There was no mandatory directive that told commanders to make duty time for this. There was the requirement for an annual fitness and weight check. As I recall, it was based upon the individuals birthday. There would be a designated base location for these tests and an official record form to be filled out. Those who might fail the fitness and/or weight limit exams, were to be put on a remedial program until they could pass. No one was ordered shot at sunrise, or anything like that. After the program had had time to settle in throughout the USAF, I convinced my supervisors that, if we were going to properly resolve to comply with the President’s Directive and our USAF Regulation, we would begin by having all USAF personnel in the Washington Area tested for weight and fitness compliance. I can remember that, as a dumb kid, I had thrown a tin can at a hornets nest and scored. I can still remember seeing that hornet come out of that hole and home in directly on my upper lip and sting the hell out of me. My upper lip hung lower than my lower lip for well over a week. Well, I was about to have a repeat performance. |
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