Brewster, Haven for Veterans

I don't have an angst against this little thriving metropolis. I have always had a great time there and when I do return to the cape, I manage to sneak back to Laurino's for a genoa salami grinder, small beef and pepperoni pizza and any long neck bottle of beer. In another age I actually lived right across the street from Laurinos for summer. (things were much cheaper then)

Brewster is where life began for me. Like many young men I had this constant urge that just had to be sated and my first was in this village. Also my second, third , fourth.....(practice makes perfect) It's also where I discovered just how many people blew rope, which bars served minors real alcohol, and where you could go skinny dipping and not get bothered by the summer cops. What ever happened to Lake Farm Camp. Rest in peace Marion.

That summer is one I revisit in my mind often and still laugh out loud from some of the experiences I had. Like all of you, I had a group of friends that I hung out with so much that at times, it was difficult to remember who my real roommates were and who was just sleeping over for the summer. I remember them all but one guy in particular really stands out.

He was original. I was never bored and hanging around with him was downright scary at times. One just never knew what he was thinking and as I learned, he was capable of some very inventive thinking and was dead on with his follow thru. We all knew that once he got an idea in his head that it was best to go along with it. Thinking back, it was the thrill of the adventure. His antics garnered him the well deserved nickname Shocker.

I had a birthday that summer and my friends had a big party for me. I had a good buzz and Shocker asked me what I wanted for my birthday. Jokingly I said "a blonde, a brunette and a red head". (I had that urge again. It was a constant companion in my youth.) He just vanished into the sea of people and I went on with my party duties, completely forgetting my request. A short time later though, I got the shock of my life when thru the crowd slipped three very attractive young ladies, a blonde, a brunette and a red head followed closely by Shocker who simply asked "will these do?" He'd found them hitchhiking and somehow managed to get them to agree to be my birthday presents. Others talked, he delivered. To him finding the three young ladies was no harder than going grocery shopping. He seemed to know everyone everywhere and they all owed him a favor.

I remember an evening we were all sitting around trying to figure out how to amuse ourselves. Suddenly the phone rang. It was Shocker, he needed 3 drivers at the junk yard and his duffel bag. His duffel bag was something he rarely left behind. None of us ever looked in it. Frankly, I was too scared of what I might find. So, we all went to the junk yard. It was just getting dusk when we arrived and sitting out front were 3 very beat up vehicles. Amazingly they were all running. He grabbed his bag and from its depths he pulled 3 dealer plates and attached them to the vehicles. He also pulled 3 crash helmets out of that bag and simply said "high lines demolition derby". I think those cars are still up there somewhere. Amazingly, none of us got a scratch.

He taught us how to play rotary street hockey, coke can tag, car surfing, magical mystery tours, how to ride P&B buses to Boston for free and how to get into Fenway and the Garden for free. He was an original. Thinking back, I never knew where he worked or lived or even if he had a job or a home.

Ol Shocker taught me how to live life. He was the original "just do it guy". He never said much and was always happy. Then just as sudden as he came into our lives he was gone. The federal authorities came and took him. Seems he had a low draft number and was a bit late showing up for induction into the military. He told me he had been moving around and kept no address so they couldn't send him the notice of when and where to show up. His draft number was 3. He was supposed to go a month after he finished high school or turned 18. He told me he just wanted to have some fun in life before they took him. The odds of a new recruit coming home alive and uninjured were very slim.

They took him away and he ended up in the 101st and went over to Vietnam. I followed the news about that war more closely especially anything about his units activities. It became personal and it all seemed so unfair. His unit seemed to make the papers and TV news more often than others. Then, like everything else in my life at the time, my interest faded. In my youth I was often guilty of an "out of sight out of mind" mentality.

The people I hung with got older and more serious about life and we all seemed to drift apart as we got more serious about life. I found a real job and fell into the routine of work. I took a lunch break one day at Laurino's and whilewaiting for my order I looked around to see if anyone I knew was there and over at a corner table there he sat. I was stunned.

It was Ol Shocker himself sitting there having a beer and he was smoking, something he never did before. I went over to his table and sat down. He had just gotten out of Walter Reed and was on temp disability and came back to the cape. I asked him all the stupid questions you ask someone who just came back from a combat zone. His answers were mostly one word and vague.

In the middle of the conversation a man sitting at the table next to us suddenly got up and asked for his check. When the waitress came over he said loud enough for us to hear, "I won't stay in a place that serves baby burning losers". He stared at Shocker with hate and vilification then he walked out. Just as that sunshine patriot was reaching the door Shocker hollered out to him "hey mister, may all your dreams come true!" The guy just shook his head and left. I asked him why he was so nice to the guy after what he had said to him. That's when Shocker smiled and said, "nightmares are dreams too!"

He told me that he got that kind of treatment everywhere he went in this country. How odd life is when we allow our government to take these young men and force them to go to war and rather than compensate them well and treat them with some dignity, we treat them like they have leprosy and call them a burden on the taxpayer. They had no choice. We forced them to go.
Hell, if you get charged with a crime at least you get your day in court but those who are drafted get a death penalty for no reason other than they are 18 and won the "lottery". They have no constitutional protection, no rights. Choices? Sure, if you had money and connections you could join the guard, if not, you could renounce your citizenship and move to Canada, or opt for jail, or even join the other side. I still get frustrated when I think about it.

We finished our meal and beers and that same waitress came over to bring us the check. She apologized to Shocker for how he was treated and said that as far as anyone who worked there was concerned he was always welcome. She gave him a hug and said welcome home. There was no charge for our tab.



So, I like to go back to Brewster and have that beer and grinder when I'm sad or confused or frustrated. I can sit there and remember that day and that man. It centers me and helps me focus on what is really important in my life. It's a comfort to know that in Brewster I'll always be welcome.

Stand Yer Ground, Bandana