In the crazy world of college basketball, as we rant and
> rave at the tube trying to influence an outcome that will
> soon be forgotten, here's a great lesson for keeping
> perspective.........great read............
>
> Written by a local left coast sportswriter.......
>
> On the 21st of the month, the best man I know will do what
> he always does on the 21st of the month. He'll sit down and
> pen a love letter to his best girl. He'll say how much he
> misses her and loves her and can't wait to see her again.
>
> Then he'll fold it once, slide it in a little envelope and
> walk into his bedroom. He'll go to the stack of love letters
> sitting there on her pillow, untie the yellow ribbon, place
> the new one on top and tie the ribbon again. The stack will
> be 180 letters high then, because the 21st will be 15 years
> to the day since Nellie, his beloved wife of 53 years, died.
>
> In her memory, he sleeps only on his half of the bed, only
> on his pillow, only on top of the sheets, never between,
> with just the old bedspread they shared to keep him warm.
>
> There's never been a finer man in American sports than John
> Wooden, or a finer coach. He won 10 NCAA basketball
> championships at UCLA, the last in 1975. Nobody has ever
> come within six of him.
>
> He won 88 straight games between January 30, 1971, and
> January 17, 1974. Nobody has come within 42 since.
>
> So, sometimes, when the Basketball Madness gets to be too
> much -- too many players trying to make Sports Center, too
> few players trying to make assists, too few coaches willing
> to be mentors, too many freshmen with out-of-wedlock kids,
> too few freshmen who will stay in school long enough to
> become men -- I like to go see Coach Wooden.
>
> I visit him in his little condo in Encino, 20 minutes
> northwest of Los Angeles, and hear him say things like
> "Gracious sakes alive!" and tell stories about teaching
> "Lewis" the hook shot. Lewis Alcindor, that is...who became
> Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.
>
> There has never been another coach like Wooden, quiet as an
> April snow and square as a game of checkers; loyal to one
> woman, one school, one way; walking around campus in his
> sensible shoes and Jimmy Stewart morals.
>
> He'd spend a half hour the first day of practice teaching
> his men how to put on a sock. "Wrinkles can lead to blisters
> ," he'd warn. These huge players would sneak looks at one
> another and roll their eyes. Eventually, they'd do it
> right. "Good," he'd say. "And now for the other foot."
>
> Of the 180 players who played for him, Wooden knows the
> whereabouts of 172. Of course, it's not hard when most of
> them call, checking on his health, secretly hoping to hear
> some of his simple life lessons so that they can write them
> on the lunch bags of their kids, who will roll their eyes.
>
> "Discipline yourself, and others won't need to," Coach would
> say. "Never lie, never cheat, never steal," and "Earn the
> right to be proud and confident."
>
> If you played for him, you played by his rules: Never score
> without acknowledging a teammate. One word of profanity, and
> you're done for the day. Treat your opponent with respect.
>
> He believed in hopelessly out-of-date stuff that never did
> anything but win championships. No dribbling behind the back
> or through the legs. "There's no need," he'd say.
>
> No UCLA basketball number was retired under his watch. "What
> about the fellows who wore that number before? Didn't they
> contribute to the team?" he'd say.
>
> No long hair, no facial hair. "They take too long to dry,
> and you could catch cold leaving the gym," he'd say. That
> one drove his players bonkers.
>
> One day, All-America center Bill Walton showed up with a
> full beard. "It's my right," he insisted. Wooden asked if
> he believed that strongly. Walton said he did. "That's
> good, Bill," Coach said. "I admire people who have strong
> beliefs and stick by them, I really do. We're going to miss
> you." Walton shaved it right then and there. Now Walton
> calls once a week to tell Coach he loves him.
>
> It's always too soon when you have to leave the condo and go
> back out into the real world, where the rules are so much
> grayer and the teams so much worse.
>
> As Wooden shows you to the door, you take one last look
> around. The framed report cards of his great-grandkids, the
> boxes of jelly beans peeking out from under the favorite
> wooden chair, the dozens of pictures of Nellie.
>
> He's almost 90 now. You think a little more hunched over
> than last time. Steps a little smaller. You hope it's not
> the last time you see him. He smiles. "I'm not afraid to die
> ," he says. "Death is my only chance to be with her again."
>
> Problem is, we still need him here.
>
>
> "If you can read this, thank a teacher"
> "If you are reading

Dear Mr. Dave Bergman,


I am a research analyst with the Center for Army Lessons Learned, Fort Leavenworth, KS.

I am seeking to know about any awards for VPB-197 (FAW-14) from OCT 1944 to April 1946.

This request is for a good friend whose father was assigned to VPB-197 from OCT 1944 to April 1946.

Many thanks for any information or advice your can offer.


Mr. Dan Cindrich
Security Manager & Information Records Analyst dan.cindrich@leavenworth.army.mil
Center for Army Lessons Learned (CALL)
Fort Leavenworth Kansas
66027-1350
913-684-5983