Life Sketches by Terry Berkson On the Bug Bus to San Antonio In 1965, the army shipped me to San Antonio, Texas for medical training. Upon completion I had the title of Preventive Medicine Specialist. This might sound impressive but, actually, “Right shoulder butterfly nets,” was a frequent order given by Sergeant Goodwine, who was marching us out to Camp Bullas to catch “sidewinders,” scorpions, black widows, wasps, tarantulas and more. Among the many diseases we learned about was malaria…
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Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Retired Poultry FarmerRecalls ‘Roger’s Colossus’in Face of Avian Flu Epidemic Recently, Roger and Diane Vaughn—who operated the only small commercial poultry farm situated along the Route 20 corridor between Albany and Syracuse—retired. Theirs was one of about 15 remaining egg-laying operations in the state. At one time, there were 15 small farms like theirs within a 15-mile radius. Then, the average setup consisted of about 300,000 birds, which made the Vaughns’ flock of poultry look…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Made in the Shade: There’s More Than One Way to Curb a Rooster I once had this beautiful tropical fish that was mutilating and eating up the rest of the fish in the tank. It looked like he would have to be flushed down the drain, but before doing so, I tried threading a piece of dental floss through his tail with a sewing needle to create a drag that would slow him down when…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Heart of the House: Uncle Harry’s Gift of Conversion a Godsend In 1932, my Uncle Harry graduated from New York’s City College with a degree in aeronautical engineering. For more than a year he tried to get a job in that field but, likely due to the Great Depression, he was unsuccessful. So, he turned to the heating business where thousands of homes and industrial buildings were converting to oil to take the place of…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Ringing in the New Year: From Aunt Edna to Richfield Springs I used to keep my Aunt Edna company on New Year’s Eve because her husband, Dave, always drove a taxi on that night. He’d sacrifice being home with his wife because in New York City the tips would be especially good and he would make a lot of needed money. My aunt would tune the television to Guy Lombardo (I secretly called him Guy…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson The Ritz Crossing In late November of 1965 my dad, in his yellow taxi cab, ferried me and my duffle bag down to the Brooklyn Army Terminal where I would board the USS Darby bound for Bremerhaven, Germany. Several other soldiers who had also gone to Preventive Medicine School were among the 1,400 troops that were about to cross the Atlantic. The water was calm for the first few days but, in spite of the…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Out On The Ice One bitterly cold morning, Joe Gravelding, my muskrat-trapping partner, didn’t come to call for me. It was the weekend, so I figured he slept in knowing he could count on me to go and check the line. When I left the house, my dog, Pinkie, began to follow me. I threw a few snowballs at him and yelled for him to go home, but he kept trailing me. Pinkie might sound…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Puffball hunting Yesterday morning I looked out the window and saw that a puffball was emerging from the ground at the edge of a hedgerow bordering our back lawn. It reminded me of an incident that occurred many years ago. I had taken my son and his friend, Junior, puffball hunting on a farm just outside of Warren off of Route 20. What’s different about a puffball from others in the mushroom family is that…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Cats in Key West Several years ago my wife Alice and I made a trip down to Key West, Florida and among other sites visited the house where Ernest Hemingway lived and worked on great writing projects like “A Farewell To Arms.” It was an interesting two-story structure, one of the few in Key West that was made out of stone blocks that had been cut and removed to create a cellar. There was a…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Thor Dackin, A portrait The current attack on Ukraine reminds me of Russia’s invasion of Hungary back in 1956 and an army buddy who had been a product of the Hungarian Revolution. His name was Thor Dackin. His family upon fleeing Hungary and entering America, settled in Philadelphia. The first time I saw him was in June of ‘65 on the troop train that was carrying us and several hundred other guys down to Fort…
