Three’s the charm…

There I was…..sitting at the bar in the Fairbanks Curling Club having a post match celebratory libation with my teammates. We had just managed to squeak a victory after giving up a 7 point lead. (Sounds like a Cubs game except for the victory part) One of the wonderful traditions of curling is that after a match, the two teams get together at the bar, have a bevvie or two, and talk.  Often that talk isn’t of the match, but of life it’s ownself.  

So we’re having a bevvie, one comment leads to another until I hear my lead (the person who throws first in the rotation) say something about living in England in the early 80’s.   I perk a bit and ask him where and when.  Come to find out, he and I were stationed at the same base at the same time.  He was a pararescue guy (That others may live) in the rescue squadron parked next to the hardened shelters where the squadron I was assigned to parked our A-10’s.  We hung out at the same pubs, went to a lot of the same functions, and probably played ball against each other.   We even got there the same month in 1982.  RAF Woodbridge wasn’t that big an airbase. 

Didn’t know who he was until 27 years later when we meet on the curling ice in the Frozen Freakin’ North.   That makes 3 folks from that era I’ve met or reconnected with this week…..   I’m buyin’ a lottery ticket!


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