The Captain

My friend Lindsay actually calls TGP the Admiral, but Pha left the Navy before he made flag rank.  And at the beginning of Pha's naval career, it was son of Commander going out with daughter of Captain that led to my marriage, but that's another story all together.

I realize this is supposed to be my blog and not only about my father, but I have to write about where we are today and what we are doing.  And for now, that's a lot about my father.  Mary Anne and I just returned from a quick trip to Mt. Pleasant.  We saw her folks and Tom and Millie and it was a wonderful trip.  We are now back in Pinehurst and will be for the next two weeks, as I work from "home".  I am very much looking forward to no airplane on Monday morning.

Pha is continuing to do very well.  As I said last time, his self-assessment is "strong as ox".  He's hoping I can take him to the North Caroline State Fair in the next couple of weeks.  We hear they deep fry Twinkies.


As long as Pha remains this strong, MA & I anticipate being in Lexington some.  I have a new client (whose social media policy apparently prohibits me from mentioning who they are), but that client has an office in Denver and an office in Erlanger, KY.  We're having national meetings an hour from the new house four separate weeks over the next couple of months.  The plan is to be home for those weeks.  Mary Anne is especially looking forward to having the puppies back.  And I'll have some new house pictures to post.

Anyway, back to the old man.  When I think of the Captain, I think first of a bone spur he had in the little toe of his left foot in the late 70s.  Given the technology of the day, the thing to do then was to remove the bone from his little toe.  Stop now, dear reader, and think about putting on your socks when you have no bone in your little toe.  The toe actually bends backwards as the sock slips on.

Fast forward several years.  Millstream 1.0 is behind us, and Pha has progressed from Commander to Captain.  In fact, he is CO of the Naval Hospital in Rota Spain.  Many folks got to visit him there, but in 1988, the thought of a 24 plane trip (4 flight segments) with 2 year old Eleanor was enough that my section of the Hollingsworth clan had to content ourselves with short, dollar-a-minute phone calls.  One sunny afternoon in Rota, the CO got fed up with his little toe curling back as he got dressed in the morning.  It was a slow day at the hospital, so Pha approached the surgeon on duty (probably a young 2nd lieutenant) and said:
"Son, take off my toe"
"Sir?"
"You heard me, Lieutenant.  Take off my toe!"
"Sir?"
"Son, that's an order.  Take off my toe"
So, TGP could no longer teach the grands to count to 20, only to 19.  But a legend was born.  And in an interesting later development, Grandmother also only has 9 toes, but that, also, is another story.

We're very grateful for the good times we are able to have here in Pinehurst and that Pha is in no pain.  This period of grace won't last forever, but it is a blessing while it lasts.

For those of you watching this blog for updates, I'll try to do better at posting.  I've got several good stories rattling around.  Not flying for a few weeks may give me a chance to get them out.