User:Johnfleff/sandbox

A little about John Francis Leffingwell ("The Harmonica Man"): Born 3 September 1940 (The new owner of both name titles)in the wonderful state of Pennsylvania. John's memory is still sharp as a tack here late in his seventies...So says John, on his last birthday: "I'll never forget the night I was born..."it was Ssooo cold". Let's add one of his personalities before we get started. John is, "The Harmonica Man" known across the USA and around the world for his personal style of playing the Harmonica he introduced to the whole world on YouTube: January 2017.

MY CHILDHOOD DAYS: My birth startled the whole world and it’s never been right since. I’ll never forget the night I was born...”it was soooo cold”. I was born September 3rd 1940. The 2nd World War was one year old and three months away from the attack on Pearl Harbor. I’m still not sure that I didn’t get blamed for this whole commotion up to and including the first round fired 12 month before I was even born. Men were needed to be targets for the German army at large so my Father volunteered to go into the U.S. Army with the 101st Airborne Div. front-line infantry leaving my mother and us kids to fare for ourselves. I’m sure, together, us 5 kids were able quickly to drive our mother nuts...so she solved the problem by placing us all into a Catholic orphanage then moved to California to begin a new life, getting married and having three more children. Lucky for us five children, we had it made at the 600 kid orphanage. Right off, being 2 1/2 years old...I was the uncontested orphanage pet until the day I left at 17 years of age. No one could ask for a happier childhood than being raised in this orphanage. I didn’t know it then, but God was looking over me giving me the very best all my life. From the very get-go I was into everything in sight that I could investigate. I was just out of my diaper when I was up in the hospital area where I observed a wall plug outlet with a night light plugged into it but the light bulb was missing. Being the curious tot that I was, I squatted to look-and-see. After a thorough investigation I decided to lay my hands on it because I had wearied my tolerance for just looking. My eyes zeroed in on the round empty area where the light bulb would normally be screwed in. I decided to simply point my finger and stick it dead-center and start from there. A response was quick in coming, before I knew it my little finger was out of there quicker then a speeding bullet. I had just made my first contact with electricity. Be sure, this did not set me back for one moment, this only sharpened my desire to investigate this contraption even further. In the squatting position I regrouped my whole little mind, body, soul and spirit then fully focused to decide what to do about this here thing. I wasn’t about to let that guy inside that gizmo get the best of me. I new without a doubt that I was definitely faster than he was. I knew I could get my little finger in and right back out before he could bite me again. Totally up for the challenge, I readied by body for the quick speed necessary to come off the victor. I waited for the adrenalin to give me the body rush I need, and “WAM-BO” it was over before it began. That dude on the other side got me again. Now I’m a bit disappointed at myself for losing a second time, not to mention a bit embarrassed because there were other tots around me in diapers taking this whole thing in...and of course, they were all rooting for me big-time...they knew this was new to me and I’d figure it out and win in the end. I approached the wall socket with the gusto of a hungry hound dog, squatting much closer this time, going through all of the above mentioned prep letting out a word of warning to the guy on the other side that he’d better be ready for sure this time...I just knew in my heart that I was supreme and undisputedly faster than he. At the end of this episode, this is the only real defeat in my life, and the only situation I have ever walked away from, and then only because I was smart enough to know I was new at all of this, and learning at every corner I turned. I used to follow the handyman around the orphanage almost from the day I bumped into him and saw all his neat tools around his waist. He accounted me an unavoidable nuisance from the get-go but recognized quickly I could and would be a lot of help to him. I would clean up the mess after he put in a window and do other odd jobs a little kid could do, and before he knew it (say a Couple of years) I had the tools doing his job for him. After I had that down, off I went to the big laundry room with all the huge washing and drying equipments. For years Angelo the plant manager would run me off when I made my presence known. He didn’t realize I wasn’t about to be denied the opportunity of leaning all about this neat equipment and how to run it. I was tired of being run off, so one day I sat down and thought it over. That’s when I realized I was moving to fast...all I had to do to get my foot in the door was to be helpful in doing the little thing that no one wanted to do...so I started by pushing the clothe carts from the elevator to the laundry which is from one end of the basement floor to the other. Angelo liked this. After awhile I started brushing out the dust balls that settles on the giant collection screens beneath the huge dryers. Angelo didn’t complain, so each week I got bolder and yet bolder until I was helping him run everything but the irons, and clothes mangle that iron the whole sheet all at one time....this was the women's job so I stayed away from there. It was more fun being around the whirling, spinning, turning and roaring equipment. I got all that down so the adventure side of me said move on to bigger and better things. Next it was to the baker room. Since I was big enough to get into the kid’s swimming pool (which was only maybe two and a half feet deep) when I got cold I would run up onto this huge shinny steel door that was laid at an angel to the ground concrete and the baker room window. For years I would look down into the bakery and see Charlie the baker man baking bread, cookies, cakes, donuts etc. I never talk to him but I watched him do his job real closely as he wobbled about (Charlie was crippled from polio). One day when I was about 6 years old I was exploring new parts of the orphanage that I had never trespassed before...This day it was the baker room I always had a subconscious interest in that I finally found. All that stood between me, Charlie the Baker man and his “super big” cookies was a flimsy screen door with a little hook on his side of the door. I’m sure the moment he laid his eyes on me he somehow knew he was in for a very bad day. He knew I was standing there with my eyes focused dead on him but he didn’t let on he saw me. for a while, as this temporary stalemate gives me time to figure out how I am going to go about chiseling Charlie out of just one cookie to start with. I walked back out the way I came in which took me back through a long dark narrow hallway and through a huge black steel door I had never even thought to go through because of its size and the darkness of the area where the door was. I let the big door slam behind me then I took an immediate left turn which took me to the below-ground level gymnasium. I often used this area to lose anyone chasing me. I would go over the railing, grab hold of the basketball backboard support, shimmied down it as far as I could then I’d let go dropped to the basketball floor, running across it and up the bleacher area to the top then out the way I came in. Through the years I had a lot of practice at this so I was good at it. I knew sooner or later, knowing how to do this quick get-away would pay off. Now I had my plan of action only a determine eight year old kid could have dream up and put into action. With my confidence built up and excitement stirring throughout by whole body, I felt victory before the battle, it was me and Charlie the baker man right now! I returned to the screen door that was the only barrier that separated me from the prize of combat...(the giant cookies). To me this was war of mind and fitness. Although I was just a tot I felt superior and up to the challenge. Again Charlie ignored me. I knocked loud enough that he and I knew that we were heading in the direction of a close encounter. He had no idea what I had in mind but I’m sure he knew I was after his goodies: Cinnamon rolls, cookies, cake..anything good sweet and yummy. Charlie finally broke the silence telling me to go away and play with the other little boys. I told him I’m not playing today as I bagged him for just one cookie. He told me to get away from his screen door. I asked Charlie if he could run fast with his bad foot. He said he could out run me. I said “Oh yeah” kicking the bottom of the flimsy screen door producing a deafening sound as it repeatedly makes contact with the bottom door jam. Charlie didn’t like this and let me know it. I asked Charlie if he was going to give me a cookie...he said no and to get out of here. I want you to know right now, that I wasn’t mad or upset in the least...I was only testing Charlie. I them commenced to kicking the bottom of the screen door making it slam about eight time until he acknowledged my presence. At this point Charlie The Baker Man was furious with me. He approached the screen door on the run telling me if I didn’t go away he was coming after me and spank me...my immediate reply was “Oh yeah?” as I reproduced the same repetition of hard kicks to the bottom of the screen door as before...true to his word Charlie the baker man was hot on my trail down the long dark hallway. I could hear his crippled foot hitting the concrete floor. I barely got the big steel door open and out into the big entrance to the gym without Charlie catching me. I wasn’t worried, I knew I was the faster runner. I swung left, ran another fifty feet then I darted through the pipe railing lowering myself over the wall using the backboard support to make my hasty decent to the floor below. I knew this is as far as Charlie was willing or able to go. I stood on the basketball floor and told him he was going to give me a cookie. My tired defeated combatant friend Charlie was now retreating. He limped back to the bakery shop hooking the screen behind him. I was right on his trail. He no sooner hook the screen door and I politely knocked asking Charlie for a cookie. We repeated this ritual two more time. The third time Charlie was so tired going back from the gym that he didn’t even try to grab me although I was walking close by his side...I could taste the sweetness of victory. We signed a truce right then...Charlie told me he wouldn’t give me any free cookies but I could work for them. I told him I would have worked for him free in the first place but now we have a deal. My first job was to scrape the cookie sheets clean with a big putty knife looking thing. This was easy picking, I had all 50 of his extra large cookie sheets done with-in an hour. After this Charlie had me wipe the cookie sheets with lard for the next batch of cookies. When I was finished Charlie told me I did a good job and he gave me two cookies...these were not normal cookies...These things were huge...this is the size he made all of the cookies (we called them orphan cookies). After this we became good friends and he counted on me helping him when I wasn’t in school or on a provided trip to the movies, circus, ball game, beach or somewhere. As I got bigger I began to pay more attention to the older boys activities which included school track and field events, school county-wide basketball programs. I began hanging with the older boys to pick their brains so I could learn what I had to do to be the best and win all the time when I got their ages. I watch the big boys work out, run the track and everything. I started my own program so I would be ready in a few years when it was my turn to earn the Orphanage trophies for their big showcase. At this time none of the other kids my age were interested in sports so I was on my own. When we go out for field & track events I knew each person could only participate in three different track events, plus relay events. I chose pole vaulting, high jump, and broad jump. I got so good at these events that I never lost a first place title in any event I partook in for the three years I went out for sports. Our orphanage also got the overall trophy for the most collective points for all events every year. In between growing up...when I was about six yrs old there wasn’t much I could do to make money, all of the big boys had all of the jobs in the neighborhood around the orphanage and they collected all the coke bottles so that left me with the necessity of inventing and applying my own ingenuity if I were to have any money like the big boys. At the orphanage we could freely go where we wished. I often walked the short space of about a quarter of a mile to Lake Erie one of the Grate Lakes on our northern boarder with Canada where I was raised. I usually went on my adventures by myself because the other kids were slow and may not want to take the sometime rough routes I took, putting up a beef I was unwilling to accept, nor tolerate. One day I was about three blocks from the orphanage returning from the lake when I spotted a young couple setting on their front porch steps playing with their little dog. I didn’t let on I was paying attention to them. As I neared their house the couple got up and went into the house and of course the dog ran directly to me. I quickly went on my way with the dog tightly in my arms and the doggie licking my face against my vehement appeal. I tied the dog to a tree in the woods and went on to supper and then to bed. The next day about noon, I went out of the way going a block around the couples house so I would be coming in from the direction of the lake. They were on their porch talking. I went up to them and said, “I heard your little doggie ran away”. They said, “yes”. I asked them what the dog looked like. They told me it was mostly light brown with a couple white spots. I told them, “you know what, I think I just saw your dogie down near the lake”. They asked me if I would go get their dogie. I told them I had to get back to the orphanage turned and skipped on my way. After a few skips I abruptly stopped, turned around, and in one breath asked them if there was a reward...They said 50 cents. “WoW”, I was rich!! Back in them days that was enough money to buy candy after school for everyone for at least a week. I said I’ll go get your doggie right now. I went back the same way I had come, got the dog and returned to the couples house the way I normally return from the lake. Boy were they glad to see their doggy, and the doggie was happy to see them, and of course I was happy to get paid. From that day forward...it was on...I figured every way there was to make a buck that none of the other big kids ever dreamed of. When I was about 8 yrs old I went over to the rich section on Lake Shore Drive, not far from the orphanage. I entered through a big set of gates that led down a long paved winding driveway to a big white house. As I entered through the big gates I noticed an apple tree with green apples on it. I had lunch bags on me all the time so I could pick wild berries of all sorts to sell around my neighborhood making 50 cents a bag. I shimmied up the apple tree and picked a bag of really green apples even I wouldn’t eat because they were so bitter. Then I walked to the owners house, rang the front door bell. After a short while a cheerful lady answered the door and before I could say a thing she complemented me on my beautiful green apples saying, “what a fine and delicious pie she could make out of them”. I told her they were for sale for a buck (she looked rich to me). She didn’t even blink. She got the dollar for me. She thanked me for the apples and told me how happy she was that I stopped by with the apples. I was happy that she was happy to pay me a dollar for her own apples. Maybe she even knew they were her apples all along. At least she didn’t have to climb the tree. I had so many good times at the orphanage that if I were to write them all out it would take forever. Any way, at 17 years of age I out grew the orphanage and went to live with my father who lived about 2 miles from the orphanage all along. Part #2    (Calif with Mom/Street kid in Erie) A note of interest I forgot to mention in Part #1: Going back to when I was 10 yrs old: My mother came from California and took me and my brother to California to live with her. It didn’t take us long to realize that all she got us out of the orphanage for was to babysit her three daughters while she went to parties or bars. This did not work from the very beginning. It was an everyday battle..her three daughters were jealous of us. This only lasted one year,then my mother put my brother and I on a greyhound bus back to Erie, Penn with no money or clothes in the cold of winter. We bummed food and money along the way arriving in Erie cold and walking alone downtown. A lady told the cop eating in her restaurant that there were two little kids walking in the cold by themselves. The cop asked us where we were going. I told him to my dad’s house. He called my dad and the next thing I knew it we were happily back in the orphanage we didn't want to leave in the first place.

I left the orphanage at the age of 16 to live with my Dad...we had adjustment problems because of the way the State forced him to take my brother and I with very little notice so he would be better prepared to receive us....I went to the streets and got a place to stay at the 14 story Y.M.C.A. for 50 cents a day for my room. I ran their elevator for 50 cents an hour in the evenings every night after I got off work from the restaurant where I worked for 50 cents an hour as a short-order cook. This was a fun part of my life in which I paid for everything I had, went where I wanted to, and did whatever I wanted to. About six months on my own and doing well, I got mixed-up in a gang war in which I got shot. I couldn’t work so I went door to door staying here and there at all my friends houses. One day myself and a buddy were cutting through an old garage with no doors I used as a short-cut but this time I stopped to look at all of the junk and in the back of the garage I found a real old big clothing trunk. When I opened it I found two burlap bags full of money...this was timely because the electric was turned off where I was living so this was an answered prayer. My friend an I split the money. I bought my first new car and a bunch of nice clothes. My friend came over to my place and asked me if I would go over to a bar in New York where all of the under aged kids went to drink and have a good time dancing. I was busy helping a friend put a transmission in his car so I told him I couldn't go that night, so he went alone. The next day someone informed me he was in the hospital in New York in a state of comatose yelling out “Don't push me..don’t push me”. As it turned out my friend took a few thousand dollars with him and another person I knew robbed him and pushed him over a cleft to die. The State of New York couldn't prove he killed my friend so he got away with murder and everyone knew it. I would have taken care of this small matter but I was arrested because the person who killed my friend told the police about all the money we found in the garage of the old house. Because I didn’t have a place to stay I was placed in an all boys home until I was 18. When I turned 18 I went to California to stay with my mother. When I got there I was surprised to find my brother living there. I had a lot of really great fun while there going to the many California beaches to spend the day swimming, and other places of interest. After six months of extreme, fun I joined the U.S. Army and went Airborne.

Before I continue on, I would like to go over and summarize a few of my thinking errors and the things I believe help to mold me and my way of thinking and responding to the situations I met head-on in later life.

1. While growing up in the 600 kid orphanage, because I was left alone to do  much of what I wanted to do..mostly because there were 600 or so kids and only 5 nuns that cared for the boys I sort of   did everything I wanted to by trial and error I never was taught about boundaries...what ever worked best I incorporated into my  life and way of thinking. 2. I was eager to learn everything I could and to be helpful every chance I could be towards others, so this was a good thing. 3. If my hands were tied I would loosen them by finding a way to get the things I wanted..such as when I hid the little dog to get a reward, or the time I sold the rich lady her own green apples so  I would have money for candy like the older kids. 4. Thinking errors #1: I didn’t get along with my dad. I should have gotten along with him when I went to stay with him, but to me he was a trader because he never came and got me out of the orphanage when he returned from the war .. so my brother and I had no use for him. I should have bitten my tongue and stayed with him as hindsight dictates now, but then, that would have been using him...just another thinking error at best. 5. Thinking error #2: I went into a garage I had no business in and removed two bags of money. I learned from this ordeal not to touch another persons thing. A good boundary builder for me. 6. I’m sure you must agree, that had I been raised as a normal child I wouldn’t be the same person I am, and because of this, I feel I was let-down by the system from the very beginning although I did have a very exciting and happy childhood.

Military History: (23 May 1960 through 2March 1970) Joining the US Army Airborne infantry...My first assignment “We are the First  Line of Defense”. I went to Korea where I thought the Korean War was over, and of course as it would be I was assigned duties with an Infantry unit right on the DMZ (no man's land). While in Korea the only thing that happened to me that shook me up really bad was in 1961, an Army Major and Captain were attack with a machete's and chopped up by North Korean soldiers on the DMZ  Panmunjom, Korea not far from my company area. One of the officers was pronounced dead at the scene. This left me with a deep emotional scar on my young teenage mind. I’ve never gotten over this completely-it is ever before me as it pops to mind often.

State-side 1962-1963: I returned to the states from Korea to serve with the 2nd Infantry Division, Ft Benning, Georgia. While stationed with this unit I participated in a riot (1 Oct 1962) in Mississippi where Marshal Law was declared my our then President John F. Kennedy. I was in the first group of military 2 1/2 Ton Trucks  entering Mississippi to stop the rioting of the town citizens who wanted to stop a young black student (James Meredith) from entering the university of Mississippi (in the city of Oxford) for enrollment as a student. This was not a fun time. We made a drive through the town’s main street to make a show of force. Many U.S. Marshals were shot and many of our soldiers (48) were critically hurt by the  bricks, coke bottles etc the town people were throwing from the roof of all the business buildings they were on top of. They were ready for us. All of the buildings had stacked cases of coke bottles, and stacks of bricks on top of them. Needless to say, the soldiers had little mercy during the gaining of control to Marshal-Law. I saw a lot of excessive and uncalled for force used that horrifies me even to this day.

I took a Discharge from the army 22 May - 19 June 1963 so I could have a 30 day vacation that wouldn’t come off my leave time, then I Reenlisted back into the 82nd ABN Div. continuing my military life.

After reenlistment I was sent to Fort Gordon, GA for Basic Military Police School Then on to the 82nd Airborne Division to be assigned to the 82nd Abn MP Company at Ft. Bragg, N.C. In March 1964, early in the morning I was assigned duty with my unit (82nd MP’s) for MP duty in support of the returning 82nd Abn Battalion that had been placed on full airborne alert, and finally deployed on a mock combat mission to a military installation somewhere in Alabama. They air-assaulted the mock enemy installation then regrouped after a week of training and were returning to Fort Bragg where they were to again complete this simulated combat exercise by treating the drop zone (DZ) they were about to jump in as though it were another combat Airborne assault operation. As military Police, our job was to see that this mass of troops and all of its military vehicles involved could move from the Holland DZ back to all of their units 25 miles away, and the vehicles returned to the motor pools they came from in a smooth, uninterrupted manner. The word was sounded “The troops are approaching the Drop Zone”, so we were up and ready to do our assigned job. At This point no one on the ground noticed a cardinal error in the formation of the aircraft being flown by a National Guard Air Force unit. Somehow their orders were to fly their planes below the planes they were following. This is the wrong configuration for a Military Tactical jump of any kind. The proper configuration is for the group of planes is for each plan to be behind each other but “above” the planes they are following, The stage was set for a great bloody slaughter. The troops began jumping out of their aircraft only to be mowed down and chopped up by the planes coming in from behind them. There was a terrible in-air massacres of our troopers. The carnage was unimaginable just a moment before...the horror of mind mixed with our total helplessness to stop the massacre of our fellow soldiers left us struck with terror, amazement and in horror. This was a hopeless situation, our only consolation at the moment was to get the living wounded troopers to Womack Army Hospital on base 25 miles away. Because it was so cold, and early in the morning with much ground fog, our request for helicopter support was delayed. All I could do, along with the many MP’s covering this jump was to load our MP vehicles with the wounded troopers transporting them to Womack Army hospital. I’ll never forget, on the way to the hospital, the faces of these Paratroopers as they related to us their horror of seeing the propellers coming at them with no way of escape..truly awesome to one’s mind and emotions. The last thing to do was to load the mangled dead into body bags.

Another time my unit (82nd Abn MP Company) was involved in the riots in Washington, D.C. Not easy times.

Another time: In March 1965, my unit (the 82nd Abn MP Company) was operating the POW camp for the Army, Navy, Marine and Air Force (red chip-blue chip) yearly maneuvers. I was returning with my MP squad from operating an interstate roadblock) vehicle check point). I was in the back of a covered 2 1/2 ton Army truck when it come to a complete stop. One of the men (a spec-4) was pulling his service 45 pistol in play - the weapon went off in my face missing the top of my head by less than an inch leaving a hole in the tarp above my head. Everyone thought I had been shot in the face. It shook everyone to the bone, especially me. The men thought I would report it because I was close with the platoon Sargent who was in charge  of POW operations. Much to their surprise I never said a word to anyone, nor did anyone else - the whole thing was dropped like it never happened. Rank was to hard to come by in the MP’s so I never reported this incident because he would have been Court Marshaled, demoted and sent to the infantry. I have never forgot that 45 pistol going off in my face, and it has played back in my thoughts and dreams over and over intrusively ever since.

On 28 April 1965, my unit (the 82nd Abn Div MP Company was in the invading force into the Dominican Republic. We were loaded up to make an Airborne Assault but ended up de-rigging all of our equipment because Division Headquarters (General York) got word that the airfield was secured by friendly partisans. When we landed it was a mind blower, we immediately came under machine-gun fire. Their was not a soul that did not hug the ground in panic. We were not ready for that, we all came off the C-130 aircraft with our rifles slung on our shoulders and carrying our duffel bags and equipment. After we got our whit back and came to the reality of the situation we carried on as we were trained, taking control of the situation. I’ve always felt us troopers were let down in that we were not informed of the hostel situation awaiting us there. We could have been mentally ready and we could have  attack the enemy immediately instead of hitting the ground in panic (even though it was only for 10 to 15 seconds which seemed like eternity). Our MP unit was at first in the street taking control of things. I was part of the P.O.W. operation. There was pretty much blood the first couple of hours until the situation was taken under control. Both sides lost lives. Almost immediately one of our young Lieutenants got his head shot off by a 50 Cal machine-gun. This took place in Santo Domingo, the Capital City of Dominican Republic. We treated some of the P.O.W’s as they were brought in by our MP’s and the infantry units until we could find out where the medical unit finally set up. After thirty days I was returned to my unit in the states to be a part of the rear echelon to police the 82nd Airborne Division area. With-in a month I was put on a levee to Vietnam with the 1st cavalry Division that was deactivated and reactivated from Korea to Ft, Benning, GA to be deployed to Vietnam as soon as its TO&E was met. I was part of a special airborne MP squad in a MP platoon of regular leg MP’s. After thirty days I was found to be excess to their TO&E needs and I was transferred to Ft Campbell, Ky to the 101st Abn Div MP company. Almost a year later because I had so much time in grade, I asked to be put in the infantry so I could make SGT E-5. I was given my request. While with the airborne infantry company I received some great training. I was also allowed to go to the 101st Abn Div Recondo School, very much like the Army Ranger School located at Ft Benning, Ga which training I later completed. Finally I came down on a levee for Vietnam. After Vietnam I returned to the States and was assigned to the 82nd ABN Div. with an infantry company. After a month all my old MP buddies found out I was back from Vietnam....they told me I was a trader and that I should join them up on main post in the 118th ABN MP Company and be a part of the 3rd US Army, 118 th ABN Corps Headquarters. I told them, if they really wanted me there with them, for them to do all the transfer paperwork. The next day I received orders assigning me to the 118th Abn MP company...now that was fast paperwork, but then we were dealing with the 3rd U.S. Army, 118th ABN Corps Headquarters, they get anyone they want, when they want them whether the 82nd ABN headquarters liked it or not. I was promoted to Staff Sargent E-6 with-in two months. While assigned to this unit I was involved with more state-side riots After this our MP Company was on full alert confined to the area prepared for the invasion into Israel during the seven-day war there. After the seven days our unit was released to continue normal duties. After about a year one of my old MP buddies came to me from the 7th Special Forces and told me they needed my expertise and asked me to transfer to the 81st MP Detachment and they would promote me to Sargent First-class E-7. They did the paperwork and I joined the Special Forces being promoted to the rank of Sargent First-class. I spent the next three years with the 7th Special Forces. About one year before departing the U.S. Army I divorced my 1st wife. One month before I departed the Army I was assigned to the Sicily Drop-zone where the U.S. Government was putting on an air show to demonstrate our Air Force, Army joint airborne operation's. The deal was for a giant C-130 Hercules aircraft to descend from 20 thousand feet to five feet off the ground letting a parachute come out of the rear of the plane pulling a huge 90 ton tank out of its rear. As it turned out....the plane was on course doing just fine at an height of five feet off the ground as planned, but when the 90 ton tank was pulled free of the aircraft by the parachute, the yank of its weight as it dragged on its way out of the air craft caused the C-130 to drop hitting the ground hard having a full tank of fuel exploded but continued at 200 MPH down the DMZ just in front of the spectators-stand where all the VIP’s were watching the whole ordeal in horror. By the time I drove my MP vehicle to the point where the plane stopped all on-board were burnt up. When the plane was finally extinguished all that we could recover of the 15 bodies were a few skulls the rest was totally burnt up by the intense heat of the fire. Because I was so sick and tired of see so much blood and suffering, I departed the U.S. Army, 2 March 1970 as a Sergeant First Class E-7 with another Honorable Discharge, now having a total of 3 Honorable Discharges and 3 Good Conduct Medals, a Master Paratrooper and Ranger badge, for my ten years of service to my country...so ended my love-hate relationship with the military that I loved and would server again if called to duty this day. It is the United States, that determines the peace of the world.... “God Bless America”. If "YOU" don't serve, who will....Never forget, Elvis stopped his fame and fortune life to proudly served his country, Life after the Military:  (2March 1970 through 5 March 1990).

After my discharge from the military having reached the high rank of SFC- E7, receiving a total of 3 Honorable Discharges, 3 Good Conduct metals, 1 Army Commendation Metal, 1 Vietnam Service Ribbon, 1 National Defense Ribbon, 1 Special Unit Citation (Vietnam),1 Combat Infantry Badge, 1 Master Parachutist Badge, a Ranger Tab, A Recondo Badge, Expert Badges for many weapons which include the M-1 rifle, M-16 rifle, the 45 Cal service pistol, the 30 Cal machine-gun, and the very heavy Browning Automatic weapon better known as the B.A.R. The day I left the Army for good....The first thing I did was to load all of my military belongings into my 3/4 ton Chevy truck, except for one fully dressed Army Green Dress uniform with all medals and awards attached. I took this huge lode of clothing and equipment to a dry cleaners just off post where I had my military clothing cleaned, starched, and pressed. The old lady that owned the dry-cleaner was blown away when I unloaded every thing telling her it was all hers free. I know I made her day because she sells military clothing and equipment on the side.

The first thing I did was to call Erie, PA and get my brother to move down to   Fayetteville, North Carolina with me just a half mile from the Fort Bragg Army Base where I had been stationed at for years. He moved with-in a week. I set up an Automobile Upholstery Shop. We were a great success right off. With-in a year I built a 200 foot building cash. The first 40 foot of the building nearest the main drag was used for the upholstery shop, the rest was used for my Wine Distributing company and my Motorcycle company in which I only sold racing motorcycles. I put together a full motocross racing team in all classes which cleaned up at all the races we entered in. After making tons of money for four years, my best motorcycle racer got out of the army returning to California. In December he invited me to come out to the Sacramento to the area where he lived for Christmas, so I went. We had a lot of fun but this is where most of my thinking errors began. When this friend raced for my company he often tried to smoke pot in my presents which I strictly forbid in any way at all. Being in his hometown environment I no longer had a say in that which he did....so pot was an everyday thing. Thinking error #1: Finally I gave in and smoked a joint at one of his friends house where everyone was in the kitchen in the process of rolling a one ounce joint. I was laying on the couch on my back in the living room wanting to go into the kitchen and see this great feat but I was petrified. I couldn’t move...I laid there on my back trying to figure out how I was going to get up when my friend wanted to go home. I rehearsed over and over that I would move in the upward direction as hard as I could getting up out of the couch. When the time finally came...I performed my plan getting up so fast I almost hit my head on the ceiling. I couldn't believe I was able to get up. What really impressed me was that my friend not only was able to get back home without any problem or getting lost but he knew everything he was doing. We spent a whole week going from one friend's house to another. When I got ready to return home my friend gave me a bag of dope. In the bag was 5 kilos of pot and 2000 hits of LSD. I told him I had no use for drugs because everyone I knew lived drug-free as far as I knew. Thinking error #2: I took the drugs home with me. I put the bag of drugs up for about a week giving them no thought at all. One sunny day, one of the neighborhood kid I watched grow up from a little boy but was now in the 82nd ABN Div was walking by in his military fatigues. I called him to come over to my upholstery shop which he did promptly. I simply dumped all of the dope on one of the work tables in front of him...his eyes got as big as I’ve ever seen them. I asked him if he could get rid of them. He grabbed the bag of dope and was gone before I could changed my mind. I thought this would be the end of this. About two hours later he returned to my upholstery shop with a large bag of money. I stood there completely blown away because of the large amount of money he brought to me. He said he needed ten times the amount drugs I had given to him earlier, especially LSD. I was caught off guard by all of this and was curious as to the real value of the drug he had sold so I said, wait a minute! Is this all the money you got for all the drugs I trusted you with? He said he sold the first stuff cheap so he could get a chain of buyer started. This was it..I was on a roll. I told my friend I would have the drugs for him with-in six hours (this is the time it would take me to go round trip to California and back with the drugs non-stop. He had no idea I was getting the drugs from out of state. Money became as water to me...there was so much I got tired of counting and burying it. I couldn’t put the money in the bank because then I would have to prove where I got it. And I could only spend so much money...I ran out of things to buy so I had money buried everywhere...I couldn’t even remember where I had buried much of it so it’s still in the ground. I was so busy going to and from California for drugs that the parole I knew in California thought I lived there and the people in North Carolina thought I lived there. I stopped selling pot because It was to easy to get caught with it. (thinking error #3 )in 1974 my four daughters came to live with me. During this time I molested or raped them and one of their 12 year old girl friends..I was totally out of control..like anything goes type lifestyle. I was selling so much LSD that the makers of window pane wanted to meet me. It turns out, they had made so much money they were cutting production totally and retiring to Brazil. I got to pick the best LSD chemist brains. They like me right off. They gave me free of charge the last 8 thousand hits of window pane and 4 grams of pure white dust looking substance (the purest form of LSD) instructing me how to mix it with ever-clear alcohol so I would have a way to transfer the LSD into the blotter paper. This 4 grams of pure LSD made over 100,000 hit of 130 micro-mic's of butt kicking LSD. I asked them to teach me how to make LSD, but they said this is out of the question. I worked on them until one gave in and told me I could begin making LSD in about one year if I really focused completely on this one subject.(as it turned out I did it all with-in 6 months ....I was totally focused I wasn’t interested in anything else at the time). He told me to go to any head shop and buy a thick pamphlet titled “psychedelic encyclopedia” I told him I have a copy already and using that book it was impossible to cook up anything at all that would get a person high. He insisted that it was possible to make the very Lad they made using this book. I thought to myself, theses guys have nothing to gain by lying so I figured I’d read the book over when I got home. When I did get home I read the book and went over the list of chemicals and the cooking procedures coming up with the same conclusion that it was all “Bunk”over and over again. I threw the book in the trash and laid on my bed thinking if they made LSD I can maker it better, faster, and safer with a better high and better colors. As I laid there it all popped into place...the answer to making LSD was esoterically hidden at the very end of each recipe listed on each page. The fine print at the end of each recipe gave a reference in a Medical or Scientific Journal where the real instructions were there for the taking with nothing hidden. I was so excited I moved to San Francisco, California where the biggest Medical and Science library is located. I spent days from morning to night doing my research and getting photocopies of everything I thought I would need to make a new generation of drugs. When I found a book or journal that had the very chapter I was wanting missing because someone uncouth person tore the pages out...I turned the book in to the administrators and when I returned the next day the book was repaired to the point of it original condition except you could tell the pages they replaced were new because they were a different color...The library people knew someone that planned to make LSD had torn the LSD chapters out of the books but they didn’t care because they knew they would kill themselves either by blowing  themselves up or poisoning themselves. After a few weeks of studying and collecting an apple box of photocopied material, I knew with this information I could truly make a new generation of LSD..purer, safer and at very little cost except for lab equipment and chemical supplies. This whole procedure is carried out in a enclosure called a glove-box in which all of the oxygen in sucked out and replaced by a non-explosive atmosphere which is used to keep from blowing yourself up while rotating the molecules changing the chemical from lysergic acid diethyl-amide to D-lysergic diethyl-amide. To make it possible to produce LSD in a lab it is critical that the person cooking go to college and learn lab procedure until they get it down pat. There are maybe two people in the U.S. that can make LSD. All of the ones who tried are dead...This is a very dangerous undertaking even for a professional such as Hoffman who while working for sandoz pharmaceuticals discovered LSD while working with a fungi call ergotamine Tartrate to be used to develop and produce migraine medicine and post-pregnancies. While doing this Hoffman got this chemical on his hand and while riding home on his bicycle began hallucinating and thus began the modern day hippy movement with there chief ingredient: LSD. I met Mr Hoffman in San Francisco getting a chance to picked his brains as long as he would let me. We became good friend. I got a few picture of Mr. Hoffman and myself together in 1967. I could tell by the look in Mr. Hoffman's eyes that he knew from the first I was in it for drug making rather than scientific reasons. I could also see in his eyes the hidden wild caprice nature that told me he also has a bit of renegade in him but he never let me know in his own words although I knew full-well he wanted to. With all my intense studies behind me and full of grate expectations, and thought of creating a new generation of LSD. I moved to the California mountains above Placerville not to far from Lake Tahoe and set up shop...got my lab procedure's down pat and came off with my expected results but much better. The lab procedure was so simple as it turned out that a glove-box was not necessary...in fact if I released my work to Medical or scientific journal The  chemical applications and Lab procedure, the first week published the cat would be out-of-the bag and the LSD Pandora box would be opened forever to any half-wit with a minimum of ingenuity and slight interest. On one of my trips back to Fayetteville, N.C. one of my old drug dealers ratted me out for drug deals I had dealt with him before moving back to California. He set up a drug deal with me so the State drug enforcement could arrest me. I was a little suspicious and controlled the drug deal so that if it were a set-up they really couldn’t prove a thing...my word against another drug dealer. The narc squad never knew what kind of drug they had purchased from me, they thought it was regular LSD. They never tested my drugs to prove what they bought from me was indeed because I made a plea of Guilty and received a 40 year sentence. The reason I plead guilty knowing full-well I would get 40 years mandatory sentence was that while in the county jail awaiting trail (a long story) I became a Christian and I knew I had to start somewhere making change in my life. I did 10 years and got out of prison in 1990. In 1980, the day before I was arrested was the last time I sold drugs of any kind, also, it was the last time I did any kind of street drug or a drug that was not prescribed for my use. After I got out of prison I moved to Oregon and got married.

In 1990 after getting out of N.C. prison I moved to Oregon and married a longtime friend of mine who had lost her husband to an accident five years earlier. When we got married my wife gave me one million dollars and a new van. We were happily married for 6 years. A month before my wife's death she complained about a back pain I took her to the hospital for a whole week of test. On the 3rd of Sept one of my wife’s sons arrived at our house. I asked him if he wanted to go with me to pick-up his Mom..he said "yes, we’ll take my Continental". I got my best friend to come with me also. When we got to the hospital my wife was ready to go home John F. Leffingwell (talk) 17:57, 28 December 2016 (UTC)and couldn’t wait to get out of there. Before we even got out of the hospital parking lot my wife made me promise her in front of her son and my friend that I would never take her back to the hospital ever again...that she was going home to die and that is where she wanted to die. Three days latter she had a mild stroke early in the morning. I asked her if she wanted me to take her to the hospital..she said no, that she would be ok. About 9:45 that evening I told my wife that I better go to the hospital to get a copy of a living will for her to sign so I would have proof that she wanted to die naturally and not be connected to tubes and kept alive when there was no way at all for her to survive. I left my friend and his wife to finish feeding her the rest of her supper meal. I than took off for the hospital from Ruch, OR and got the living will all in the space of 40 minutes. As it turns out...while I was gone my wife had a major stroke. My friend called an ambulance and was taken to Rouge Valley Hospital, I arrived 15 minutes behind her while she was still in the emergency room where she laid in a state of coma. I never used the living will. However, the Dr gave me the option of letting her die a natural death or not... I told him to let her die as she requested. My wife died on the 22nd of Sept just 19 days after leaving the hospital after taking the long week of very painful test. Nov 3rd 1995 I was arrested for Mistreatment and finally sent to prison for 54 month. Just before I went to prison I had my Attorney (a public defender) make up paperwork giving the whole estate to my wife’s two sons to include the million dollars my wife gave me. When my wife died I buried her in Ruch where she requested to be laid to rest, I cried for a whole month...I never loved anyone at all in my whole life as much as I did her. When my mother and father and grand parents died it didn’t startle a never in my whole body in the least because "People Die" this is an accepted part of life, like it, or not, but when my wife died it almost destroyed me. I still have not gotten over her death. There is so much more to add, but this is to let everyone know I have never hid from my past, I am not perfect, but I am, with honest intent and purpose, decisively improving my lifestyle and way of thinking, that I will in the end have the moral character God will allow into the heavenly universe to enjoy the company of angels and endless inhabited worlds out there. Yes, there are other worlds out there. What is unknown to us for the most part: is that It's not a question as to whether or not: is there life in the universe besides us? The truth of the whole matter is: Yes, and our little planet Earth has been invaded from the start and its people hoodwinked, duped and blind to these facts due to being "willingly" ignorant...The invaders are the enemies, not only to us but God and all of High Heavens above...from which they were evicted and routed to planet Earth where we are all in school to learn how to willingly live a life God can approve of, that we might be used to replace the fallen angels (but as a higher order of beings) in which one third of all the angels fell)...the clock is broken...it's missing a third of its parts. and the universe can once again continue under the rule of God and his Righteousness for eternity. I must admit...this is a ruff draft that I will edit and improved on, given time. Be sure to use the search box to learn what Wikipedia has on "The Harmonica Man" (soon to be posted).