when I started this blog five years ago, I was a pet sitter and the name animal-crackers made sense. now I'm a stay-at-home-dad and freelance writer, but rather than confuse everyone by getting a different blog, it's just easier to keep posting things here.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
The people you meet in the therapist's waiting room
The title is misleading, but it sounds better than: The person I met today.
I took Josh to the play therapist -- his sixth visit and still no substantial progress report, but that's a different story. When we arrived, there was an older white guy in the waiting room, and we struck up a conversation.
The guy loved to talk -- about himself. Nice guy, but just a little off.
His name was Thomas Dixon and he was visiting from Oregon. His daughter-in-law was also a therapist there. He then tells me he was a native Texan, but lived most of his life in California. He worked for ITT Aerospace, which was instrumental in the Apollo missions.
Thomas said he had five devices still on the moon and one in the Smithsonian. If I'd had my wits about me I would've asked why he kept losing his devices in such remote locations.
Instead, fumbling to make conversation, I asked if he thought about writing about his life now that he's retired. That launched us into a conversation (monologue, really) about how he grew up near New Braunfels never knowing when his next meal might be.
His father was 32 and his mother 16 when they married. His father was a late-life baby and a twin who had been spoiled rotten and never wanted kids. He died in a car accident in 1929, a few months before the stock market crash. Thomas' mother was left with three children and little means to feed the family. This was years before the New Deal.
But Thomas did survive and went to technical school. He joined the Air Force during WWII and served stateside teaching others how to repair planes. After the war, he worked with Wernher von Braun, the head of the Nazi V2 rocket program. Apparently Hitler had to imprison von Braun twice because the scientist didn't want to make weapons. He wanted to fly to the moon.
Thomas told me about his travels to Europe and Israel -- "I only travel the clean countries," he said.
Mostly, he talked about himself but occasionally he asked about me. He wondered how a Pennsylvania boy found himself in Texas. I told him a short version of how I ended up in North Carolina, married Andrea and moved to Austin.
Thomas said he had never visited North Carolina, but that's where his father's family was from. You see, Thomas Dixon was named for his uncle, Thomas Dixon. If you're too lazy to follow the link, his uncle wrote The Birth of a Nation -- a 1915 movie about the Ku Klux Klan's creation and racial purity.
But his maternal ancestry is so much more interesting. His mother's grandfather was Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels who was recruited by Sam Houston to establish New Braunfels in Texas.
You see, Sammie was worried about all the Mexicans who lived in Texas and remained loyal to Mexico. Sammie wanted to "whiten" the newfound republic -- add a little racial Clorox. So he asked all sorts of good Aryan families to emigrate. Prince Carl was happy to oblige.
While Thomas is telling me about his very interesting life, I can't help but keep track of the math.
1) Worked with Nazi rocket scientist.
2) Nephew of seminal Klan movie author.
3) Great-grandson of German nobility.
4) Only travels to "clean" countries.
Hmmm, now I'm no rocket scientist but I think I can guess Mr. Dixon's politics. It bugs me that the conversation carried such a taint. But it was rather inescapable.
Still, very interesting encounter.
And that's who I met today, in the therapist's waiting room.
I took Josh to the play therapist -- his sixth visit and still no substantial progress report, but that's a different story. When we arrived, there was an older white guy in the waiting room, and we struck up a conversation.
The guy loved to talk -- about himself. Nice guy, but just a little off.
His name was Thomas Dixon and he was visiting from Oregon. His daughter-in-law was also a therapist there. He then tells me he was a native Texan, but lived most of his life in California. He worked for ITT Aerospace, which was instrumental in the Apollo missions.
Thomas said he had five devices still on the moon and one in the Smithsonian. If I'd had my wits about me I would've asked why he kept losing his devices in such remote locations.
Instead, fumbling to make conversation, I asked if he thought about writing about his life now that he's retired. That launched us into a conversation (monologue, really) about how he grew up near New Braunfels never knowing when his next meal might be.
His father was 32 and his mother 16 when they married. His father was a late-life baby and a twin who had been spoiled rotten and never wanted kids. He died in a car accident in 1929, a few months before the stock market crash. Thomas' mother was left with three children and little means to feed the family. This was years before the New Deal.
But Thomas did survive and went to technical school. He joined the Air Force during WWII and served stateside teaching others how to repair planes. After the war, he worked with Wernher von Braun, the head of the Nazi V2 rocket program. Apparently Hitler had to imprison von Braun twice because the scientist didn't want to make weapons. He wanted to fly to the moon.
Thomas told me about his travels to Europe and Israel -- "I only travel the clean countries," he said.
Mostly, he talked about himself but occasionally he asked about me. He wondered how a Pennsylvania boy found himself in Texas. I told him a short version of how I ended up in North Carolina, married Andrea and moved to Austin.
Thomas said he had never visited North Carolina, but that's where his father's family was from. You see, Thomas Dixon was named for his uncle, Thomas Dixon. If you're too lazy to follow the link, his uncle wrote The Birth of a Nation -- a 1915 movie about the Ku Klux Klan's creation and racial purity.
But his maternal ancestry is so much more interesting. His mother's grandfather was Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels who was recruited by Sam Houston to establish New Braunfels in Texas.
You see, Sammie was worried about all the Mexicans who lived in Texas and remained loyal to Mexico. Sammie wanted to "whiten" the newfound republic -- add a little racial Clorox. So he asked all sorts of good Aryan families to emigrate. Prince Carl was happy to oblige.
While Thomas is telling me about his very interesting life, I can't help but keep track of the math.
1) Worked with Nazi rocket scientist.
2) Nephew of seminal Klan movie author.
3) Great-grandson of German nobility.
4) Only travels to "clean" countries.
Hmmm, now I'm no rocket scientist but I think I can guess Mr. Dixon's politics. It bugs me that the conversation carried such a taint. But it was rather inescapable.
Still, very interesting encounter.
And that's who I met today, in the therapist's waiting room.
1 Comments:
Ok, that was definitely the most fascinating encounter I've had vicariously in a long time. Even if he was making it up, it was still pretty interesting fiction!
Amy
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