Don Robert Underwood

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Wartime Colleagues Don Underwood and Jack Valenti

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photo of Don Robert Underwood and Jack Valenti in Flight School
Jack Valenti (far left) and Don Underwood in Flight School or in theatre (undated)

Purely by luck, Don Robert went through flight school with Jack Valenti, and the two kept in touch over the years. (To family: Who has the letters?) For those who haven’t seen the PBS American Experience. Here is a snip from the transcript of the show’s episode on LBJ.  The context?  LBJ’s historic push to pass the Civil Rights Bill.

Jack Valenti, Special Assistant to the President: And he said to Dick Russell, ‘I want this Civil Rights Bill passed and you nor no one else is going to stand in my way.’ And I remember Richard Russell said to him, he said, ‘Well, Mr. President, you may do it, but I’ll tell you what — it’s going to cost you the South and it will cost you an election.’

While most people will remember Valenti as the head of the Motion Picture Association of America, Wikipedia recounts Valenti’s World War II career:

During World War II, he was a first lieutenant in the United States Army Air Force. Valenti flew 51 combat missions as the pilot-commander of a B-25 medium bomber and received four decorations, including the Distinguished Flying Cross and Air Medal.[1]

What we do know is that DRU was rather proud of the success his wartime colleague had in later life.

Man with the Green Truck

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The man with the green truck didn’t talk about the truck much. It was obedient, functional, and didn’t deserve much conversation, unless it was acting up.

Credit 1956 GMC Truck via American Dream Cars http://bit.ly/2avF8isTrue, sometimes it wouldn’t start, but that was a problem most vehicles from the 50’s and 60’s experienced (carburetion improvements were yet to come).  The bench seat wasn’t comfortable, but not terribly uncomfortable. By the standards of my future commutes (think San Diego to Canoga Park, Leucadia to National City, Port Washington to Stamford,  Santee to Point Loma) it was ridiculously short (3 miles), even walkable. Maybe nine minutes; more when we had to pause to defrost the windows in January.

Thinking about it now,  I’m struck by how different the riding experience is from today’s:

  • If there was a radio, it’s been forgotten. Most radios were AM only and tended be unreliable.
  • The hand-cranked windows didn’t seal very well, and rain would ooze down the inside of the windows.
  • There may have been a defrost feature, but it didn’t work very well. Best you brought a cloth to remove the moisture so you could see out.
  • Not only was there no air conditioning, but I don’t remember a fan, either. Or perhaps it just didn’t work well. The heater wasn’t too bad, but it didn’t do much after drop-off time.
  • If there was an interior dome light, it certainly wasn’t tied to an opening door.
  • Unlike our VW Microbus, it did have a fuel gauge.
  • Seatbelts? Airbags?  You’re kidding, right?  Sometimes the doors would close the first time.

I didn’t ride with him to school every day. Sometimes I carpooled with a friend’s Dad in his VW Beetle, or another adult (typically Mom) drive. What I took for granted at the time his readiness and steadiness. Taking my children to school or day care entailed a more of a battle: first, getting myself ready, getting them ready. Being late wasn’t a steady problem, but it happened often enough.

This model was used. It had been an appliance dealer’s delivery vehicle, and the logo was still visible through the secondary paint job. On weekends or (his) vacation days, the truck served workhorse duty carrying this or that product: lumber, or trash runs to the dump. Imagine how hot that metal liner got during the Tucson summer. You’d want gloves to touch the liner — never mind somehow sit down in the back keeping the load from flying out onto the asphalt.

Truck liner pattern - metal, not rubber

  1. What did he do with his vacation days? We didn’t have the usual outings, yet he probably got three weeks of vacation.
  2. What did he think about during those silent trips?
  3. What did he say when he dropped us off?  “Goodbye?” “Have a nice day?” “Don’t be late next time?”
  4. Did he worry about what was going to happen at work that day?
  5. Was he fretting over what might have been seen as a fraying marriage, her sharp words reaching their intended target?

In retrospect, during that phase of his life, fifteen years into marriage with six kids and a one-employer career with a large utility, his commutes were about duty.

What could one say about duty?

We didn’t talk about breakfast, or favorite foods, pick up a latte at Starbucks, crank the stereo, plan upcoming holidays, or even discuss politics.

Or perhaps we did discuss something, but in the tunnel vision of adolescence, I listened with only half an ear.

Of course, the experience of siblings probably varies from this. Their mileage may vary.

These memories about the man with the green truck are demonstrably imperfect. Yet this caveat, four decades later, hardly dulls the desire to remember. There are only the unasked questions of an imperfect questioner. They swirl like still-unsettled ashes.

Image of 1956 GMC 100 truck credit: American Dream Car

Deliberator with a Peacemaker’s Temperament

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Photo of Don Robert UnderwoodDon Underwood valued healthy skepticism almost as much as the unquestioned value of hard work. Though he was a World War 2 veteran, he was skeptical about leaders who were certain that a particular war could be well-planned — or was just. Without ever saying so exactly, he fit the profile of the unglamorous peacemakers’ temperament: slow to anger and dubious about easy answers pro or con. In response to war rhetoric he wasn’t so much pacifist but skeptical, with a Will Rodgers take on statesmanship.

Diplomats are just as essential to starting a war as soldiers are for finishing it… You take diplomacy out of war, and the thing would fall flat in a week. (W. Rogers)

He was a debater in high school, but in later years he was more likely to suggest you go think it over more than than to refute opinions outright. The big deals of the Big Dealers rarely go as planned, he reasoned, so you’d best be prepared. And that went for the war planners who, he once told me, never had to fly strafing missions so close that you could see who you were killing.

The more certain others were of the sureness of their path, the greater the need for skepticism.

That instinct for contemplation is rather a big deal.

►Factoid: 93% of young Iraqis regard the United States as their enemy, according to one survey in 2016.

Chet Atkins Workshop

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Chet Atkins Workshop - RCA Album Cover
DRU was a big Chet Atkins fan, but this then-LP probably got more play from his oldest son, who had to get his own copy soon enough. According to the Wikipedia page on the album, it the studio was pretty bare by today’s standards, but the results speak for themselves. There is a review on AllMusic, which reports that this was Atkins’ best-selling album.

“. . . Much of [the studio] built by Atkins himself: a small maze of mixing panels, a three channel stereo tape recorder, a one channel recorder.”

The YouTube playlist linked to here may not remain up for long, so apologies in advance, but give this a try.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_qkxQTGaIA2Xk8AnSkeEnsPyX4Ttkihl

You can purchase the CD on Amazon.

DRU owned a guitar, but AFAIK he only played prior to the move to Edgemont. On the other hand, both Mark and Ross were struck by the bug.

Album Review:
Chet’s Best-Selling Album Still Performs Its Frown-drowning Magic

This is Mark’s review of the album (see also on Amazon’s page)

Wikipedia advises that, over the course of a highly productive recording career, this album was his best-seller. I am biased, but as one who owns perhaps half a dozen of his other albums, I must agree. I first heard this as a child (hence the sentimentality warning), but after being reminded of this album by a blog post, I sought out the CD on Amazon, and, while I don’t use the term lightly, I’m overjoyed.

Sure, the album has a “country” feel to its arrangements, drum parts bends, and to a lesser extent, the song choice. But the playing sounds so effortless, the delay, tremelo and reverb effects in this pre-electronics era are light years ahead of their time (obviously he educated himself by studying Les Paul closely). “Goofus,” and “Whispering” own their country roots, while “Lambeth Walk,” and “Theme from ‘A Summer Place” reach for a broader audience.

If electric guitar timbre is as important to your listening pleasure as the notes, the combination of good song selection, playing and recording excellence will not disappoint. The Gretsch (assuming it’s used throughout) shows its variety across high, low and midrange, In “Tammy,” you’ll hear it put to full, grinning, use.

Thanks for buying that record, I’d say to my late Dad (but I don’t recommend vinyl!).

Obituary

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OBIT-imageDon Robert Underwood, 82, died peacefully at home April 19, 2005. Born August 8, 1922 in Nogales, Arizona to Timothy Irve and Ellen Christine. He is survived by his children Mark, Kris, Cele, Page, Beth, Ross and their mother, Billie Jeanne, and six grandchildren. He is also survived by brothers John, William, Gerald, three nieces and two nephews. His brother, Allan Underwood, preceded him. He retired after 42 years from “the telephone company” (Mountain Bell) where he developed lifetime friendships, especially Hal Cunningham, Jon Smith, and Wally Macafee (Glenda). Services are private. Memorial donations can be made in his name to your favorite charity.