“LOST MUSKET DIARY” Sunday February 15, 2015
Sunny 63°F /17°C in Rancho Santa Margarita
Buongiorno,
“The name is Botula…PACKY Botula!”
Now, truth be known, I have
absolutely no idea why I am doing this. Maybe it’s because I woke up this
morning looking for an excuse to skip my therapy group. I know for sure I didn't want to do my laundry, plus Lola is sleeping in this morning so I
can’t take her for her morning walk just yet. I don’t know why, but nevertheless! On with my story.
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| Father and son: Charles Jr and Charles III |
As most
of my friends may, or may not know, I have one sibling – my kid brother,
Charles Botula III. Unlike my own name Michael
or Mike Botula - Charles Botula III has a regal, dynastic ring to it. BUT,
almost no one calls my kid brother “Charles,” “Chuck” or “Charlie” like they
did our dad. No Sir! The entire world, from Presidents and Generals on down to
enlisted personnel and the homeless, knows my kid brother as PACKY Botula! “How,” you may ask, “did
Charles III get that nickname?” Well, I am now claiming that responsibility and
will now make a full confession.
Packy
and I are both native New Yorkers. I was born of poor, yet proud parents in Manhattan;
my little brother was begat in Jamestown, in western New York near Lake Chautauqua.
Our dad was serving his country in the South Pacific on the day he was born. He was on board the LST 920 steaming from
Pusan, Korea en route back to Okinawa. Our mom and dad, who rarely quarreled
about anything, had strongly disagreed about a name for their new baby. Our
mother wanted to name the new arrival after his father, should she have a boy. My
dad, on the other hand, was taken with the wartime superstition that a new baby
boy named for him would be the namesake sent by God to replace him when
he died in the war. Dad, whose entire crew had survived a deadly U boat attack,
the invasion of Normandy and a host of invasion operations in the Pacific,
including Okinawa, wanted to avoid testing that superstition by naming the tyke
Peter. In the end, mom – Skip Botula, who got her nickname from my Navy officer
father, who considered her the real captain or Skipper of his life -prevailed. Charles Botula III was born on
October 18, 1945. Our dad fretted about it right up until he was ordered home
in December of 1945.
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| Charlie Jr and "Skip" Botula |
In
those days, the whole planet had been caught up in the whirlwind of World War
II, and our family felt the breeze along with everyone else. When dad got his
commission in the Navy, mom took me and moved from Long Island back to Jamestown,
her parents’ home town in upstate New York. That’s where we lived while dad was
navigating the U boat infested waters of the North Atlantic and the
Kamikaze-filled skies of the South Pacific. It was a big day when we welcomed
him back home. Some of our friends weren’t so lucky. Anyway, right around the time I turned five,
our family moved back to Riverhead, about 70 miles east of New York City. And,
that’s where little CB-3 got his new
nickname. (Hmmm! Did I ever call him “three”
for short? I don’t recall.)
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| Packy and Mike 1947 |
Little
Bro was a mere tyke when the folks asked Eddie Kartowsky to come over to the
house one Sunday and bring his Speed Graphic to take some family pictures. I've
looked at these pictures for decades now and I've always thought that “Eddie
Kart,” as we knew him was a very fine photog. Eddie captured me playing in the snow, and another of the little guy in his high chair munching his way through lunch as I looked on. “Look at that kid EAT,” my parents and Eddie heard me exclaim. “Wow, he’s really PACKING IT AWAY.” That was it. The name stuck. From that moment forward my baby brother became Packy
Botula.
Since his career took him to the jungles of Asia, quite a few friends guessed that Packy was short
for Pachyderm and, over the years have showered him with all sorts of elephant
memorabilia. To this day, Packy's wife Sue sometimes addresses him dearly as "Dermie!" - short for Packy-DERM (Get it?) I even sent him a neck tie from the California State
Capitol gift shop adorned with little Republican elephant figures. He and Sue have a flock
of little brass elephant statues that they use for door stops. Some people even think that Packy is named for a heavyweight champion fighter. Even now
after a long, distinguished career in the US Air Force, my grand kids affectionately
know him as Colonel Packy. To this day there are good friends of his who don’t know that his Christian
name is really Charles.
Ciao!
MikeBo
© Mike Botula 2015
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