75th Infantry Reunion

Posted on by Thor

I drove for two days to get to Oklahoma City for the 75th Infantry Reunion. The drive was gorgeous at sunset and early in the morning when the golden light lit up the wide open landscapes. Huge hap cylinder shaped hay bales were arranged in neat rows in lush green fields as far as he eye could see.

A registration table was set up in the hotel lobby. Each attendee had a yellow manila envelope with all the events and plans. I met a 75th Infantry historian who is going to arrange for me to swing by the 75th Infantry museum on my drive back to Orlando. The museum is in Texas, so I would just have to take a more southern route to get back to Florida.

The lobby buzzed when Charles Atchley entered in his wheel chair. Charles is 99 years old and is the oldest and only living veteran form the World War II Division.

I sat down with Charles for maybe an hour before the room grew to loud to talk any further. He explained that Germany didn’t have an access to the sea in WWII. They had a lot of Submarines. One submarine went into New York Harbor and sunk one ship. Charles went to Europe on the Queen Elizabeth. They went to Glasgow, Scotland in four and a half days. The USO would have supper and then a show. The troops went on a railroad and went all the way own from Glasco to South Hampton England, where the troops got on three ships to go to France. There were 19,000 in the group. From there they went up to Belgium. All up north, there used to be camo caravans. They would bring food and supplies for Europe.  That trail was as wide as a football field. On the American side there was a swamp. The German tanks if the got too gar off would slip into the mud. General Eisenhower had four divisions. The 290th Division was among the four.something else. The Germans had to stop because they were running out of gas. Charles survived the Bulge he said because he was so small. He only weighed 102 pounds. He was also had some incredible luck. The one thing he could not escape was the cold. The troops were not outfitted with winter clothing and it got unbearably cold in the fox holes. Charles had to go to several hospitals to treat his frozen feet.

Charles was in the mortar squad. He had a backpack that two mortars in it. If those got hit by anything, they would explode. There were two men carrying the mortars. Charles learned to run in a zig zag pattern to be sure the mortars were never hit. The army would get the soldiers a hot meal every day which was hot oatmeal with raisins.  Charles sill had hot oatmeal with raisins every morning. He had oatmeal in the morning of the reunion.

After the battle of the Bulge the 75th went to the Colmar Pocket which was in Alsase France. The day the 75th got to Colmar, Charles was 19 years old. Charles was in the A-Company. He was one of 10 soldiers to get a blue Combat Infantry badge that day. Audie Murphy was already stationed in Colmar. Audie was 10 days older than Charles and he grew up kn the next town. Audie was from Princeton Texas and Charles was from Lucas which is close to Allen Texas. He never saw Audie when he was in Europe. Audie was in the 3rd Infantry. Audie made a lot of movies. Charles graduated from high school in 1047 with a friend, Charles wanted to join the navy, but you had to be 18 years old.

Hiram Caulder Utility Box Composition

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Hiram Caulder worked at an Orlando Butcher shop for many years. About 1914, he developed a terminal illness. On his death bed he confessed to his doctor that he was born a woman. The story was a news sensation at the time.

Hiram was born Hannah. After Hiram’s death, he was buried in an unmarked grave on Michigan Street in Orlando. Rather than tell Hiram’s whole story, I would suggest you read the article by Whitney Broadaway.

I have been asked to paint a utility box on the Corner of Michigan and Ferncreek Avenue across from Johnnie’s Other Side Bar and Grill. The utility box is right next to the cemetery.

I am writing this article from  Super 8 motel just outside of Little Rock Arkansas. I am two thirds of the way through with a drive out to Oklahoma City where I will be attending a reunion of the 75th Infantry that served in Europe during WWII. My father was a replacement 1st Lieutenant.

I am hoping I can figure out exactly when my father arrived in Europe. I printed out my plans that I have been assembling that track the 75th Infantry C-Company;s movements. I am pretty sure I figured out which concentration camp my father would have seen when He was in charge of shipping out displaced persons, by getting them into box cars on a train. I am hoping someone at the reunion can confirm or deny my findings.

Back to the utility box, there is a portrait of Hiram and Hannah on opposite sides of the box. I think Hannah will face the street and Hiram will face the cemetery where he lies. The portrait isn’t accurate. There are no known photos of Hram, just newspaper sketches which were a bit crude. The other two sides are to be coverd with black and white portraits , tightly cropped of man and women, representing the many sides of Hiram or perhaps the many other souls who inhabit the unmarked graves on the site.

I don

t have much time to paint this box in the hot August sun. I suspect I will work at night if the mosquitoes aren’t viscous, or in the very early morning. The above comp is being run past city commissioners. I honestly think the assignment will probably not happen given the present state of affairs in politics. Orlando Mayor Jerry Demings signed on an ICE agreement to shipping off  Orlando residents to Alligator Alcatraz. He had to sign in order to keep his job and to  keep the county commissioners from also being fired.

Market Day

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Stella Arbeláez Tascón and I went to the Webster Westside Flea Market (516 NW 3rd Street, Webster, FL). This is a painting of the combined haul before we divvied up the spoils of the marketing war.

Stella is great at comparing prices and finding the best deal while I just grab on impulse and sometimes forget to pay. I’m just excited to get the produce in my ancient granny cart which was rickety by the end of the shopping spree due to the produce weight.

The jar contains, Tamarind, a hard shelled pea shaped Fruit legume, which is sweet and bitter at the same time. I bit off individual seed pods and nurse the fruit off the seed with my front teeth while rolling it in my mouth.

I have become addicted to having several oranges every day. I am also a fan of cooking corn on the cob every night. It only takes 5 minutes to boil an ear so it is a quick snack.

In the background of the sketch are some ink bottles. Stella was testing each bottle of ink for it’s permanence when used with watercolor washes. It turns out one bottle is not permanent and that is the one she had been using.

My backpack for my Europe trip arrived yesterday. Each morning I put it on to walk around the block to see how it feels. I shopped at REI and maybe packed it 1/3 full. I hope on my travels I can find keep finding lush bounties of fruit as I hike, train and drive from town to town. I am getting close to finishing my itinerary. Which will give me a list of the towns and hamlets I must visit to follow in 1st Lieutenant Arthur Thorspecken‘s footsteps as his C-Company infantry unit moved from France to Belgium, Norway and ultimately the heart of Germany at the end of WWII. I think I solved the mystery of which work concentration camp his unit might have liberated and moved the victims toward Eastern Europe via train box cars. The displaced person’s didn’t want to get on the train and his unit had to hammer the box car doors shut with nails. The trip East might have been a death sentence. Skeletal faces started out from between box car boards in sorrow.

Rolling in the Racing Lanes

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One one morning lap swim, at HO Dabney Aquatic Center, (312 Pine St, Leesburg, FL), I got out of the pool a bit early to sketch the high school students as they rolled in the racing lanes. They roll in the lanes just before noon when the lap swim time is over.

There is some contention as to exactly when the lines should be rolled in. Several times Stella Arbeláez Tascón and I arrived rather late and therefor needed to swim right up until noon. The life guard wanted to get us  out of the pool 15 minutes before noon to get the lanes rolled in. Stella pointed out that the web site says that the lap swim time on the web site is for noon not 11:45am.

Stella has downloaded several swim work out apps on her phone and we are getting some really good work outs. One exercise consists of just swimming the pool length by kicking with no use of hands at all. Another exercise has one hand extended up in front and you swim the pool length using just one arm. I can feel my form improving with each exercise.

For the first several swims without the program, I was just doing the froggy style breast stroke I have always done. Now I am swimming in a classic freestyle form and my breathing and endurance has improved. I am so thankful for Stella upping the stakes on our swim workouts. To pay for the sessions we each got a swim card which is punched each time you enter the facility. I just have 4 sessions left. I am sure I will get a workout as I hike and travel from hostel to hostel in Europe. I have so much planning to do this month. I am hoping everything will fall into place by August 30.

Organic & Sustainable Production

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I drove north to the Marion County Extension office (2232 NE Jacksonville Rd Ocalla FL) to listen to a presentation about Organic & Sustainable Production. The talk was presented by a University of Florida researcher.

100 years a go, all farming was organic ans sustainable. Back then there were fewer pests, since the world was not as global. Today tankers full of crops are shipped around the world and the pests from one country spread to other countries.

Most problems could be solved before a crop goes n the ground. Talking to one farmer the researcher asked how many years that particular crop was planted in that filed. The farmer proudly told him that the crop had been planted there every year for over 20 years. When crops are planted int he same place year after year, the bugs have a fest.

Planting cotton in the same plot of land two years in a row is illegal in some states. When you get cotton seeds, you must apply for a permit before planting. This is common in many Southeastern states and other cotton-producing areas.The only way cotton boll weevils have been eliminated, over the years,  is by this extreme form of enforced husbandry. The first year, the boll weevils will burrow down in the ground and come back with a vengeance the next year if cotton is once again planted in the same spot. It is better to plant something that is resistant to the boll weevils.

Using pesticides tends to kill off the predator bugs which are good for eliminating true pests like aphids. When inspecting a garden bed the speaker saw thousands of aphids, but also saw paper wasps fling around. He decided to not spray insecticide. In a week all the aphids were gone. Wasps lay  their eggs inside aphids, and the developing wasp larva consumes the aphid from within, eventually killing it. This process is a form of biological control, where beneficial insects help regulate pest populations. Lady bugs are a more pleasant bug to have in the garden for pest control.

The talk was a fire hose of information. Since I will be on the road in Europe in a month, I will get to use what was learned once I settle dond and set up my own permaculture food garden

No Humans

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I got to spend time watching Boo Boo for Stella Arbeláez Tascón when she went to Georgia for a woman’s art conference.

The last time I watched Boo, he left several calling cards on the floor when I had to go out to do a sketch for several hours.  Boo gets quite attached and will howl if he is left alone. I live most of my life alone, so I can’t understand his dilemma.

One of the pillows on the couch said, “No Humans on Couch.” I always feel a little guilty sitting on his prime real estate.

This sketch was done late in the day after many hours of working at my desk. I needed to relax and Boo is always ready for some rest and relaxation.

No lights were on in the room, and I kept sketching as the room god darker and darker. Once I finished sketching, then I sat back and turned on a side table lamp and started to read The Eye of the Artist. I have slowly been reading this book ever since I had an operation to try and fix the double vision caused by my left eye. The reading has been going slow since the type in the book is so small that it is difficult to rad given my condition.

Drilling

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The empty lot next door with the sand sculpted Mayan temple of beach sand now decided to drill a well to find water. The truck backed up and set up to drill right at the edge of the property line.

Two thick metal peg leg supports were lowered to stabilized the back of the truck and then the large yellow lift was rotated up at a 90 degree angle.

The drill was rotated around and lowered through a U shaped device at the back of the chassis. Once the pipe hit the ground the drill was turned on. It let out a deafeningly loud repetitive banging noise that persisted for well over an hour. I have ear plugs in a tiny metal jar on my key chain. Those came out immediately. I also have noise canceling headphones, and together the sound was still unbearable. When the drill is turned off it lets out a loud hiss and water vapor flies everywhere.

As the saying goes, if you can’t beat um, join um. Work had begun at high noon on the hottest day in recorded history. I decided to leave the air conditioning and go out and sketch. There were very few shady spots n the lot since all the trees had been chopped down the weeks before.

I set up my artist tool inside the back patio, which thankfully had shade because of the hot metal roof. It was still hot as bloody hell and my hands sweat on the page as I was putting down lines.

There was some debate about how close they were drilling to the edge of the property line. There is supposed to be 75 feet between a well and the drainage filed for a septic system. There is however no rules about how close wells can be drilled next to one another. The property line was marked by a black fabric fence. Any drilling is supposed to happen 10 feet from the property line. With the new lot flag, several feet of property would be lost on this side of the black fabric fence. The stake with an orange flag however was several feet in towards the property I was sketching from. Lots of ferns and native plants were actually on the property that had just been stripped bare. All those plants will likely be ripped out and thrown in a large dumpster that was now at the front of the empty lot. There were plans to dig a trench along that property line to help drain rain water to the back of this property. I’m glad that wasn’t done since that trench would have fallen in the contested area.

I was having trouble with my fountain pen leaking every time I drew. That is because I was using a syringe to add fresh ink into a used plastic ink canister. I got an ink inverter which can stay in the pen and uses a plunger to draw ink into the canister. I’m happy to say there are no more leaks. This sketch is the first time I was using new fountain pens and I was pleased with how easy the ink was flowing. Most of the sketch was done with a Sailor Demannin Fountain Pen which has an angled nib that can put down very thick lines or very thin lies when the nib is turned on it’s side.

At the end of the sketching session I puts out a new Sailor 21 K Zoom Nib Pen and it puts out such a rich thick line. I don;’t think I will sketch with this pen all the time since there is no option to get a thin line. The delicate nib in this pen splits gloriously far however when I want to draw very bold. I will have to rethink how I use line if I want to draw with this pen more.

 

Broken Woman

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The Broken Woman by Stella Arbeláez Tascón was last exhibited at the UCF Masters Exhibition in the UCF Art Gallery (12400 Aquarius Agora Dr, Orlando, Fl.) titled Haunt. That exhibit was on display until March 7, 2025.

Since that exhibition, The Broken Woman has been stored in the artists studio. At first she stood exposed with her vibrant red heart radiating golden beams inside her shattered shell.

The broken birdcage that hung in place of her head fell and broke further when she was moved to this spot. An old cell phone used to play static, but it had since died. The crotch still held some crisp Benjamin Franklin bills.

Then, the Broken Woman was covered with drop cloths held in place by bull clips. In many ways this visage is just as mysterious as the actual sculpture.The sculpture conveys some hope of escaping the convinces of caged thought, but covered in cloth she feels fully entrapped and enclosed. Any vibrant radiating colors were muffled.

Like Michelangelo‘s David, the head appears large. Since the entire figure is draped it looks like a medieval monk.

Behind the figure is a pantry that holds canned goods, potatoes and large jars of dried beans and other cooking items. The refrigerator has a pink swimming noodle under it to try and keep the robot vacuum cleaner from getting stuck on her daily cleaning duties.

The light switch for the room is also behind the draped figure, and getting to the switch involved a careful reach in just above the sculptures hips while avoiding her left arm.

The shelves are filled with inspiring books about artists of thee past like Leonardo Da Vinci, Botticelli, John Singer Sargent and , so many other amazing artists. Inspiration is always just an arms reach away.

Some of the framed work from the Haunted exhibition are on the walls in a hallway near the bathroom. Like this sculpture they are all also draped. Stella has no need to see the work hanging and on display. They were created for others to see, and they will not be unveiled until they go on exhibit again, or they find a new home.

Beach Day

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I woke up to the sound of a loud metal bang. Dump trucks were dumping piles of sand on the now empty Lake County  lot which had been a lush forest only days before. The loud bank would happen when the back door of the dump truck slammed back into the truck chassis once the pile of sane was completely dumped.The lot next door was becoming a deserted, beach.

A single John Deere  Wheel Loader would take the sand and spread it out to each corner of the lot. The annoying thing is that any time the Wheel Loader backed up it would beep loudly. The beeping persisted all day long, so I decided I had to go out and sketch rather than attempt to ignore the insentient nagging of the beeping.

Once all the piles of sand were spread out, the driver of the excavator would stop to rest and wait for another dump truck to arrive with more sand.

The entire lot was covered in sand by the time my sketch was complete but the beeping persisted all afternoon.

Someone arrived in a pick up Truck and he rolled out a black fabric fence about the height of the black wooden fence in this yard. I’m guessing the black fabric fence was meant to keep the desert contained in the event of a sand storm.

As the sun set, I went into the back yard to look at the progress once again. What I found was what looked like a Mayan temple with the Excavator parked on the top platform. The sand platform was now higher that the top of the fencing in the studio front yard.

Whatever home was going to built on this insanely high mound would not have issues with flooding because all of the water would run off onto the property I was standing on. During hurricanes and seasonal storms, this property already floods. With the temple of packed sand next door the water would flood the low lying planes which I was sketching from.

The Art of Bowling

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Bonnie Sprung organized the 8th Annual Art of Bowling fundraiser held at the Oviedo Bowling Center, (376 E Broadway St, Oviedo, FL.) Bonnie had been at the Woman’s Caucus of Art, and she returned back to Central Florida to be at the Art of Bowling Fundraiser. When I entered the Bowling Center, she explained to me that lanes 1 through 8 were for the fundraiser. The event raised money for Seminole Cultural Arts Council (SCAC).

When I started the sketch all the house lights were on, so everything was bright and easy to see. However once the Art of Bowling competition got underway, the lanes were illuminated a deep blue and last lights danced on the wall. That lighting was difficult to catch in watercolor. I kind of wished I had brought along my iPad to sketch and paint.

I was seated behind a family using lane 9. A little boy was crying at the table in front of me. His brother came over and brought him into the fold and coaching him to get the ball all the way to the pins. Everyone in the family played, each at their own level.

Soon all 8 lanes were bustling with activity as every team, rolled for the arts. Every strike helped with the SCAC mission to “color your life, and support the arts!”

I had two large soda’s while doing the sketch, so I was buzzing with excitement as I threw colors at the page.