THE RETURN TO AMERICA 

We left France in December of 1962 just before Christmas. All of the Christmas decorations were up in the village and in the village square. My father got the news of the transfer just days before Christmas so Madam and her family were taken by surprise. They had come to regard me as their own and rightfully so from their perspective. I basically lived with Madam Lebudec, and Annie Claude was like a sister to me. When they got the news we were leaving for the States Madam was devastated. Crying and sobbing she asked my mother if I could stay with them in France. Needless to say my mom couldn’t do that and told her that she would make sure I wrote often and that Annie Claude could come to the states to visit from time to time, also that there could be provisions made for the whole family to come on visits.

We got back to the U.S. on Christmas Eve 1962 and were picked up at port Columbus by my mom’s dad (my grandfather) who I will always know as Poppy! He took us to his house on the Hilltop in Columbus Ohio where we would stay until my father received his orders to report to his new duty station in Rantoul Illinois.

Aside from myself my mother and father had 3 other children I was the first and eldest, then came Timothy (1957), Tina (1960), and Alice (1962). Tina and Alice were born in France and to this day still have the option of invoking French citizenship, or a dual citizenship if they choose. I was born in Columbus OH. And my younger brother Tim was born in St. Louis MO. Before my dad was stationed in France so we got the short end of the stick! (So to speak)!

I had never really been in a fight until I came back stateside and I was somewhat at a loss when it came to communicating in English being that French had become my basic language and culture. I really felt out of place and a little dense even though I was academically advanced by the standards of the American school system I was still a little Frenchie and not adjusting to the American way of life as rapidly as was required by my teachers and peers.

I recall my first bloody nose! A boy was over in the field from my house at the pond where I usually played alone and was standing on a little makeshift bridge I put together a few days previously. I went over to say hello and I was in the process of telling him how I made the bridge when he socked me right square in the nose! It really hurt something awful and the blood just kept coming and drenched my shirt! He just walked away in his beetle type boots combing his hair like Elvis and I scampered across the street trying to look like I had a big fight and it didn’t bother me! I felt like I had act strong and courageous and hold my shoulders up or people might think I was weak! This happened in about August of 1963 and would be the starting point of forming my new attitude toward life along with my fall into prejudicial views based on the fault finding characters of others in my surroundings. In other words I would come to learn backwardly that violence created respect by fear and intimidation.

I became more aware of the jealousies peers exhibited over things as minute as the belongings of others even if I shared them in most cases that wasn’t enough! I was seeing the American way through the eyes of a socially displaced child. Even though my parents should have seen they did not because here unlike France there was very little time left to notice these things by my then young parents. Besides, they had three other small children to deal with. I was the oldest and it seemed I was going to get into things and just have to deal with them on my own the best way I could. Now by comparison Rantoul, Illinois was heaven compared to Columbus, Ohio. I was going on 9 years of age, in the 3^rd grade and on my way to a new set of circumstances in a culture on the verge of racial explosions.

Hello, Highland Ave. Elementary in Columbus OH. Now had come the time that would prove me to be a “punk” or a “man” in the day of racially militant attitudes, Yeah me, a little mixed hi yellow almost white but not quite person! Highland Ave. Elementary and our house at 212 Wheatland Ave. was dead center of one of the largest all Black communities of the 1960’s! My nickname was white boy!

I was born in Columbus Ohio in 1954 to Edith G. Bowers and Leonard W. Bowers. I was named after my father so that makes me Jr! My father was in the Air Force when I was born and stationed somewhere near St. Louis Missouri because we live there around some of his brothers (my uncles) and their families from shortly after I was born until about 1958 when my baby brother Timmy was born. I can remember events as far back as my second year of life and have very vivid memories of my third year on this planet. Although I love my parents very dearly I must say that I wasn’t fortunate enough as to hail from a family that was vise free! I heard words in slang and profanity that could make a sailor cringe and I was employing them in conversation as early as my third year of life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing the victim thing here I’m just saying that when you’re in certain circles things of the nature of your placement are bound to happen sooner or later and the choices we make are sometimes affected by the stimuli we encounter in our early development as children. Some good, some not so good, but you got what you got and you did what you did (so to speak)!

My brother was born in August of 1957  in St. Louis and named (Timothy Leon Bowers). Well now things begin to spin! My dad was then transferred to Brezoles’ France and based at Shenout Air Base in France. My mom, brother and I moved there shortly afterward. The small village of Brezolles’ was nothing like back in the States and people there never used vile language instead it was quite the contrary. Everyone as I can recall showed immense love and exemplary common courtesies not so common in our society even back in the 1950’s.

I was placed in base schooling, but I didn’t get along well with the other American kids because I could out cuss them without even trying. My mom came up with the bright idea that I may do well in French Catholic School so that’s exactly what happened. I learned the language really fast and I had a lot of help from the Madam Lebudec and family because that’s who I was with five days a week being that my mom was working on the base in the Affex. So in essence I became a little French boy and since no one understood my vulgarities in my native tongue I soon lost interest in using fowl terminology and began the more eloquent approach to interacting in my new social environment. I must say the French were excellent teachers and for them that was just part of a basic service to mankind in general.

American GI’s from the base would sometimes find their way to the village and scare people with their drunken behaviors and womanizing predatory type actions. It’s safe to assume that the political minded French wanted them gone despite the economy and dollar exchange of the day. They tolerated and endured this sort of behavior largely due to the liberation by American troops during the Second World War.

I started in French schools at the age of four in 1958. By the time I was seven years old in 1961 I had the equivalent of an American 7th grade education. School hours were different there, and there was no summer vacation instead we had occasional breaks so we never got to far off track and had very little time for mischief. There wasn’t a lot of jealousy over belongings or clothing because everybody **** the same thing. We wore grey or light blue smock type uniforms. The girls wore skirts and the boys wore shorts. Can you imagine wearing shorts in mid winter?

Christmas was a really special time of year in France, Santa Clause there is called “Father Christmas” or “Pare Noel” in the French language. Madam had two daughters; Soline the eldest, and Annie Claude who was a year older than me and was also my best friend. Much like Forrest, Forrest Gump we were like peas and carrots. There is so much about my time in France to reflect on good and not so good memories, but in the overall view it was all good to me.