Progress on My Project Goal, September 2009

One of the young marines who has passed through the Bartlesville recruiting system, completed basic training, and was briefly on leave before moving on to his next duty station.  I photographed him in several poses, most better than this one, and I gave him five or six 8 1/2 by 11 inch color glossy photographs, suitable for framing.  In my project of giving one hundred marine bibles to the marines, I have so far delivered twenty bibles and need eighty more to complete my first goal.   This particular marine, unaware of my project, had purchased his own marine bible.  

What do I mean by first goal?  I mean that my goal is to give the marines one hundred of the marine bibles; once that goal is accomplished, I'll continue to buy and give them to marines whenever I can.  I just may not have a number of them in mind; or I may set a second goal.  That is something I will see after I reach the first goal.

Staff Sergeant Ocasio told me that he had given one of the bibles to a retired marine, then as he talked more, he defined the marine as a former marine and a friend of his, from his church in Collinsville, Oklahoma.   I asked him if the marine friend had seen the marine bible before and he said no, that he had not.  He said a woman overheard them and told Staff Sergeant Ocasio that her son is a marine, so he gave her a bible to send to her son, stationed in Twenty-Nine Palms Marine Corps Base, California.  It doesn't matter because my goal is to get the marine bibles into the hands of marines, and I know that one marine will tell another, show his bible to others, and some of them will want a bible for themselves, or for a son or daughter, relative or friend.  My goal is just to get marine bibles into the hands of marines; it doesn't matter if they are serving now or have served.  They are still marines.

"To a Marine"

When I purchase the bibles, they are enclosed in a nice cardboard box and a cellophane wrapper. The store has a policy of imprinting the cover with someone's name or other. When the young sales lady offered this, I declined, not because I did not think it was good, but because I did not know the name of the marine to whom the bible was going to be given. On second thought, I accepted and had it imprinted with "To a Marine." All of them have been so imprinted, with the exception of my own Sailor's Bible, which I bought several years ago, but I asked them to place my name on it and since I bought it from them, they willingly did so. And, I bought a Sailor's Bible for my friend Jim Mosley and his name is imprinted. Staff Sergeant Ocasio told me that he had given one of the bibles we have stocked to a new marine recruit who did not have much of a family support system and the young man held it in his hand, looking at it, thankful for someone having given it to him. I was rewarded for I felt my small effort was worth while. There are many things to be done in the world and none of us can do all of them; each one of us can do something. It is a choice we make, what we do; it is a gift, what we can do. I am just fortunate that I can do this small thing. It is what I choose to do.

The Marine Bible

The image is of a marine bible. This is the Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB) which I photographed before giving that copy to a marine. As I have written in another post, I am a sailor myself, formerly in the navy back in 1961-1965. I served aboard the USS Point Defiance (LSD-31) from late 1961 until early 1965, so I was aboard just over three years. Our duty was amphibious and marines and their equipment were often aboard. I met many, made friends with a few and I developed respect for all marines. One day I found a marine bible in a bible store and I bought it and used it for awhile, until I also discovered that there was a sailor's bible, so I bought my sailor's bible and gave the marine bible to a marine. I had an opportunity to meet another marine and he said that he wished he had an HCSB Marine Bible, so I bought and gave him one. I discovered that many marines knew about this bible and wanted to have one. I try to keep one on hand but they have a way of finding a new home. When my friend, Jerry Malone, a former marine lance corporal who served in Vietnam died, I placed one in his casket.

I wanted to start a project to provide marine bibles to marines in Iraq (2007) and I arbitrarily decided on one thousand as the number of bibles I would try to get my community to provide. I learned that there were security problems in shipping that many bibles, or even a few, to Iraq; I worked with the Marine Chaplains Corps in Washington, D. C. to find a way to deliver them but we have not yet been successful. I have not surrendered on that goal but I have postponed it until I can learn what is required. In the meantime, my personal goal has become to provide one hundred marine bibles from my personal funds. When I have money, I buy one or two bibles and I take them to our local marine recruiting office, where there are two staff sergeants, and leave them in their hands to give to new recruits, or any marine that happens by and provides an opportunity. Since I have begun this project, I have delivered seven bibles. I need only ninety-three more bibles delivered to reach my goal. Ninety-three marine bibles on the wall.

Salute to a Pawhuska Marine

Copyright (C) 2009 Stevie Joe Payne

Salute to a Marine

Many know that I keep a special place in my heart for Marines. I was in the navy myself, but that does not change my feeling for Marines. I acquired those feelings when I was a kid, and they have never left me or been altered much. I am proud of the Marines I have known, especially those from Pawhuska. There were two Marines at the top of my list and those were Gary and Jerry Malone, twin brothers from Pawhuska.

When I left Pawhuska, at seventeen, I did not leave with good feelings, and I felt down and unwanted, and I will use the word unloved, because that is how I felt. It is a long story and I won’t go into it but it is germane for one incident. The home port for my ship was Long Beach, California. One Saturday evening, I had been to a movie, eaten in a restaurant and my ship mates had gone off to a bar to have some drinks. I was too young and I could not go with them, so I was just walking the streets, spending some time at The Pike, the giant permanent amusement park in Long Beach, and killing time before I returned to my ship. I was feeling a little lonely when I decided to go across the street, into the doughnut shop and have a cup of coffee and a doughnut. It was very crowded and as I walked in, I heard someone call my name, my first name, which was not used in the navy. I was called either just Payne or Huck. When I looked around, I saw two young men in the uniform of the United States Marine Corps, young men from Pawhuska. All of the feelings I had had when I left Pawhuska suddenly surfaced, and I moved towards the door and ran outside, away from them. I had believed that no one from Pawhuska wanted to see me, and I was afraid that something was going to happen, so I ducked them. As I got outside and moved to a safe distance, I stopped and lit a cigarette as I looked down Ocean Boulevard. I was extremely nervous and uncertain what to do. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to find both Gary and Jerry standing before me, asking me why I had run from them. One of them said that they were afraid that I didn’t want to see them; nothing could have been further from the truth. They shook my hand, patted my back, spoke warmly and we had a great time as we talked about, well, everything. I felt so good after they had come out of the shop, sought me, and worried that I did not want to see them.
Every now and then I would see them in Long Beach and we always stopped and spoke. I was so proud of them and I admired them so much. They looked so good in the Marine uniform, yet it was hard to believe that they were two boys that I had known in high school, and two that I never expected to see in Marine uniforms.

Robert Gary Malone was taken from us many years ago, June, 28, 1966, just short of his twenty-third birthday, as a result of the Viet Nam War. Jerry worked for the post office many years in Bartlesville and I saw him often. Once in a while we talked about meeting in Long Beach, but it was a little hard for Jerry since the twins had been together then. When the moveable Viet Nam memorial wall came through Bartlesville, in 1995, I told Jerry that it was in Memorial Park. Later I learned that he did not go see it and I asked him why. He said it was just too hard for him, to see his brother’s name on the wall. I had photographed the moveable wall, Gary’s name, and it took me a while to do it, but I made an 8 ½ X 11 inch photograph of Gary’s name, and I gave it to Jerry. I gave him several copies, to share with his family, if he wanted. He asked me what he owed me for the photograph and I told him that it had been paid in full years ago. I’m not sure if he fully understood what I meant, but he accepted that, with thanks. But it is I who owe him thanks.

We have now lost Jerry Malone. He had experienced some heart problems over the years and he and I had talked about that some, at the post office. I looked for him Saturday, at the Pawhuska Centennial Celebration, as I wanted to show him something that I had written. I did not see him, and I learned that he was just not feeling good, so he did not go. The last time I saw him, he was wearing a Marine cap from the Viet Nam era, one that a citizen who learned he had been a Marine bought for him, somewhere, and just went in the post office and gave to him. He was really pleased to get it, and he wore it when it was called for. He was a good man, and I miss him, already. I would like to be tougher than I am, sometimes, but I will tell you that I wrote this with tears. This is what I wanted to show him, from my book Pawhuska Kids' Stuff:

“Robert Gary Malone is my hero for being a United States Marine. He didn’t have to make the ultimate sacrifice to be my hero, but he did. His brother Jerry is my hero for being a Marine.”

I had just purchased a new copy of the Marine Bible and I asked his widow, Nada, and his sister, Barbara, if I could place it in the casket. No one will ever see it but I took a moment and wrote a few things in the Bible, his name, his dates of service and his rank. And I probably wrote something very personal, a word of thanks, a word of farewell. He was a good man; he was a good marine.

Marines have always had a special place in my heart; Jerry Malone will always have a special place in my heart. I salute you Marine.

Stephen Joe Payne

The Young Marine

Christmas 2005, the Young Marine
Copyright © 2006 Stephen J. Payne

Charlotte is a fan of Janet Evanovich who writes the Stephanie Plum detective series and I had learned that Evanovich was going to be in Tulsa, at the Borders Book Store to sign books (and probably sell more). Charlotte was overjoyed but skeptical that she would actually be able to meet the author; too many people, too busy, too much. But I knew it meant a lot to her so I was insistent that she try. I had learned an important lesson from the years that I was single and I phrased it this way: "The girl you don’t ask out isn't going with you anyway."

It was a sure thing that she would not see Janet Evanovich if she didn’t go so, early enough, we loaded up my cameras, lenses, photo lights and all of our Evanovich books (yes, I have some too), and set off for Tulsa. We arrived at Borders very early and yet found many people already waiting, as though they were expecting a rock star. Borders staff had set up a system and when we brought books in that we already owned, the books were labeled with a colored tape and we were assigned to a group. We had to line up then within that group. This Borders is a two story building and we found ourselves upstairs and far at the back and right next to the section on linguistics which was delightful to me. I love linguistics so I was able to start at the top shelf and work my way slowly down as I pulled out books on the English language, the sounds of the world’s languages, the History of the Spanish Language, morphemes, and the like. I was having a good time. Fortunately I already had a lot of those books which was keeping me from buying more because I was low on money and, of course, I did have to buy several copies of Janet Evanovich’s newest book; that was unavoidable. As I got to the bottom of the section and I moved to the top shelf next to it, I saw one book that caught my attention, not for me but as a gift for a young man. I did not know him. I had not met him. But I knew that he had just graduated from basic training at Camp Pendleton, California, United States Marine Corps, and was now on his way to sniper school. I didn’t know there was a school for snipers. The book that I was looking at was The Marine Bible, Holman Christian Standard Bible. It was in a box, leather bound and it was sealed and I couldn’t afford it. Yet, I had to see more of it, so I broke the seal and opened the book. I looked at the early pages and saw the standard beginning, like most bibles, and then I went to the index to see why it was a Marine Bible, what was different about it.. In the back were things that were just strictly Marine Corps: Poems written by great marines past, prayers from chaplains and many things specific to the Marine Corps. I put it carefully back into its cellophane wrapper, then back into the box and then back on the shelf, all the time thinking of the young marine. He was not only a new marine but a new husband. I wished that I could afford it for him. Our line moved slowly and after a bit, we had Janet Evanovich in sight, sitting at a table surrounded by staff and rule keepers: “No more than four books per person, please stay within your color coded group, have your tag ready with your name and what you want Janet to write, tags sticking out one inch.” We were closer then, just a few more feet and…I went back for the Bible. I couldn’t afford it but I was going to get it, somehow. It didn’t cost much but I had already made my commitment in other books and expenses and just didn’t have much left over and we had yet to have dinner. I took photographs of Charlotte and Janet Evanovich and I gave her a copy of a piece that I had written, A Son’s Farewell. I found some way to buy the Marines Bible and the next day, I took it to his aunt who got it to him just before he finished Sniper School and was sent to Iraq . Now and then I would get reports on him and his progress. He would call into the shop and he always mentioned the Bible and his aunt would tell me about it. Then he was home
from Iraq and Bartlesville had signs up, "Welcome Home Lance Corporal Jacob Fuller," and he was celebrated. Still, I never got to meet him. His aunt told me that he was here for Christmas but that he had to work at the Marine Recruiting Office as part of his price for being here. I went there on Thursday, December 29th and another Marine told me that I had just missed him but, try again tomorrow. Friday, I returned and the other young Marine told me that I had just missed him as he had left for lunch, but he had gone to the Subway and I might catch him there. I walked up to the young man that I knew from a photograph and said, softly “Jacob?” He looked at me, puzzled, his brow furrowed and I asked “Jacob Fuller?” “Yes,” he said, “I am Jacob.”
“I gave you the Marine Bible.” I told him.
He sat his drink and his sandwich down on the counter, turned to me and he put his hand out to shake my hand and then he stepped forward, put his arms around my shoulder and pulled me to him in a Marine hug, a tear forming in his eye. Something was in my eye too. That made my Christmas 2005.

Stephen