Clay: Reflecting on 67 years of being alive

This is a two-part series about my life.

Today is my birthday. I was born in Ephrata at the Columbia Basin Hospital on July 3, 1947 at 11:45 p.m. There was not a hospital in Moses Lake at that time. Mom said I looked like a football, because I weighed over 11 pounds. My name was Dennis Laurel Wollard.

My birth certificate shows my father was Willis Clarence (Bill) Wollard, a machinist in Moses Lake. Mom, Enid Artina Grimshaw Wollard, is listed as a housewife.

Moses Lake, Ephrata and other towns in the area were busy places in 1947, with preparations for the arrival of irrigation water and the completion of the Columbia Basin Project.

Next I remember us living in Oregon, in a house near the Willamette River. I understand my father worked at a dairy. My memories center on this man taking me goose hunting several times at 3 years old and him shooting a few geese.

Then we lived on a houseboat in Portland. This was about the time my sister, Denise, was born. Mom wanted twins, to name Dennis and Denise, and although we arrived four years apart, the names stuck.

Our next home was in an apartment on the second floor of a building. A tavern was located on the corner of the block and at the bottom of the stairs leading to the apartment.

This was not a happy time for the family. Mom says Bill would work and receive a paycheck, but the tavern was between his work and home. He had no money in his pocket when he arrived at the apartment on payday.

Mom says all she had for food was flour, so she fed me a flour and water mixture. I remember this man slapping Mom during an argument and when I ran to her defense, he slapped me.

There was no money for Mom to pay the rent or buy food, so she called her sister, Nadine Driggs, who lived in Moses Lake. My aunt drove to Portland with her daughters, Janice and Cheryl, picked us up. We lived with the Driggs family for some time in the Guffin Eccles area.

Jump ahead a few months and years, when Mom met Max Clay, an electrician working at Larson Air Force Base. They married and Max adopted Denise and me and he became our father and Dad. At first we lived in a house Dad had moved from the Grand Coulee Dam area. He had worked on the dam, installing the generators.

Our childhood became a fun time full of fishing, camping, wildlife viewing and hunting. Other activities included little league, pony league, school sports, cub scouts, boy scouts and DeMolay.

My high school days were especially enjoyable as the three years went by quickly and I graduated with the Moses Lake High School Great Class of 1965. This was followed by one quarter at Big Bend Community College, but, at this time, I had no idea about which direction to head in my life.

I joined the Army as a private instead of having to face the draft. The Army asked if I wanted to go to Officer Candidate School and become an officer. Sounded like fun, so I attended OCS and ended up a Second Lieutenant.

During the first few weeks of OCS, the Army asked if I would like to attend rotary wing flight school to become a helicopter pilot. Sounded like fun, so I became an Army aviator at 19. My orders to flight school were my orders to Vietnam.

The year as a member of the 9th Aviation Battalion of the 9th Infantry Division, June 1968 through June 1969, in the Mekong Delta was a growing-up period where the enemy was shooting at me and I was shooting back.

There were lighter periods in this year of combat as well. One day I was assigned to fly the division commander, a two-star general. The general's people scampered onboard soon after I landed at his special helipad. We headed to a remote location where the general's people scampered off the helicopter, except one.

This person tapped me on the shoulder and asked, "Are you from Moses Lake?" It was high school class mate John Walsh, who was the general's aide.

Another day there were a few extra minutes of spare time in my schedule, so the library was my destination. High school classmate Dave Wilson was walking out of the building as I entered. Visiting with the two classmates provided a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stinky situation.

A year was spent at Fort Rucker after Vietnam when orders arrived to head back. Many of my flight school classmates didn't survive a second Vietnam tour, so I was most apprehensive and concerned.

A few weeks before my departure date, my orders were changed to a tour in Korea instead, because the Vietnam War was slowing down. This was welcome news. After nine months in Korea, the Army asked if I wanted to stay an additional six months, making this an 18 month tour instead of 12.

I jumped at this chance and invited my sister to join me. Denise and I explored the Korean countryside using my Seoul apartment as a base camp.

Next week: Life after the Army; siblings discovered.