It is not my responsibility, not my fault.

Back when I was stationed onboard the USS Yellowstone, I had a very close friend named Linda Alves. I have always wondered what would have happened if we had actually stayed as close friends. Yeah, I know that what is past is over and can never be done over, but I have been dwelling on it lately for some reason.

Let me start with the present. Right now, Linda is gone. So, any thoughts on this subject are absolutely theoretical.

1982-5 Linda, myself, and a about 16 others were stationed aboard the USS Yellowstone. It was a Destroyer Tender so the crew included men and women. Considering all I have ever been stationed aboard are Tenders, this has always been normal to me. OK, while on the Yellowstone, Linda never drank. She was was a recovering alcoholic as she had told me in when we first met. She was "recovering" from when we first met so, once again this was normal to me. Back then, I was living in an apartment in Virginia Beach area. And since we were friends, she would come over and stay to get off the ship. Nothing more than "friend things" ever happened since I was still technically married to Cathy. Not that this mattered anyway, we were just very good friends. She would come over and we would get a movie from blockbuster. Normally, we would just hang around in our underwear, smoke cigarettes and play cards. I figured it didn't matter anyway, nothing was going to happen between us anyway.

Back to the story. She and I would just sit around the apartment (or the shop) and bullcrap for hours. It was one thing to talk to someone you were friends with, and a totally different thing to talk to your spouse. But with her, I could say anything I wanted. All without feeling like I was being scrutinized with a waiting criticism. That is the normal way it was with all my previous relationships. Someone was always waiting around the corner (while sitting on their ass) to come back with some scathing remark about how "that is dumb", or "that will never work". Linda and I worked together for several years at that point so she kinda understood the way I thought.

Back then, I was literally called "MacGyver" because of all the crazy things I would build. Lifting hoists for bearing shafts (there were about 400 pounds and you have to precisely place them on jigs to rework them), vacuum tubes to suck water out of the tiedown holes on the flight deck, goofy things like that. Well, Linda would never criticize me for spending my time making things up. usually, she would just be watching TV in the shop and wander by once in a while to see what it was that day I was making. But she never would give me grief or offer the normal sarcasm the others did. In other words, she was someone I felt confident and relaxed in talking about things.

Another aspect of our friendship was trust. We could do things normal friends could do. If I was there in the shop, I remember washing her hair in the deep-sink several times while we were underway. Showers aboard ship are sometimes few and far between due to water rationing. But in the shop, we had running water. And if need be, we had a big tank and a very large torch which could be made into a hot tub. She used it once that I know of. I remember because when you came into the top level of the shop, you could sorta look down into the tank. She didn't notice I had come in and was spashing around and being silly. I have to assume that Frank let her do this. I don't think she would have ever done it alone (unless she thought she would either never get caught, or no one would ever come in and find her spashing around.

OK, it was really an acid tank for cleaning parts, but we rarely ever used it so it was always clean and empty.

We also had some large pots, pans, and buckets for various industrial jobs and making up things to eat which we didn't want to share with everyone. these were great for heating up some water to take a sponge bath.

Now you have to be serious about this idea. When you work with people 24/7 for years, and even sleep in the same shop, on (or under) the same benches, you get to be pretty close. Imagine spending 6 months with 15 or so people in an area roughly 500 square feet. That small area is where you work, relax, watch TV, listen to music, play cards, eat snacks, sometimes even sleep. It gets rather small after a while, and all those ideas of "gender specific" problems go away (quickly). In our case, what we did was so extremely dangerous. The work literally could have killed any of us on any given day. This also added to the trust we maintained in each other. Sure, there were the horndogs in the shop, but that was pretty much contained to their interests outside the shop.

I think the part where I knew we were such close friends, is when we used to sit in the apartment, eating popcorn and watching videos after work, and just fall asleep on the couch. Nothing was ever mentioned between us about anything more. Because that is not what either of us wanted. I do not believe I have ever had another person so close as that.

Married people do not count in what I am trying to say.

Bree and I are close friends, but we are married. It is not the same thing. Married people do not have the same rituals or agreements that friends have. They are 180 out in my opinion. One of the things you do when your friends, is that you look out after each other in a different manner. Consider this one. When

1990? I saw Roxanne a few years back. I am not really sure of the date. Roxanne came by the Canopus and told the situation. Apparently Linda had a real rough time handling shore duty. She never was much for stand-alone situations. Linda really liked to be with people. Anyway, the way I heard it, She had a bad time, fell off the wagon, someone had helped her out, but it didn't do any good. Finally, she took what money she had, checked into a hotel room on Ocean View, and drank herself to death. She had made many wrong decisions in her life. She just was lonely, frightened, and she always seemed helpless in many ways. Even though she had friends, none had made the effort to help. Maybe that is the part that bothers me so much. All she needed to do it pick up the phone and call.

"W,S,C" This is one of those times you look back and think "Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda". I imagine that if I had been around, I would have taken care of her. She was one of the best friends I have ever had. But I was not there, I was hundreds of miles away, and going on with my life as it was. I have to remind myself of the facts once in a while just to keep from blaming myself.

I will not go on further with this one. I am just trying to think things through and had to write it down, for my own sake. I am very happy that I have Bridget. She understands and always is there for me.

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