MARY BALDAUF KELLY PRISE--U.S. NAVY SENIOR CHIEF PETTY OFFICER, RETIRED

 

MY SISTER MARY WAS A TRAILBLAZER FOR WOMEN AT SEA

MARY BALDAUF KELLY PRISE WAS A 1996 GRADUATE OF THOMAS W Harvey HIGH SCHOOL AND IS A MEMBER OF THAT SCHOOL'S DISTINGUISHED GRADUATE HALL OF FAME.
DURING A DISTINGUISHED NAVY CAREER, SHE WAS A TRAIL BLAZER FOR WOMEN IN THE U.S. NAVY.

NOTES ON HER MILITARY SERVICE:
*She enlisted in the U.S. Air Force, serving in that military branch for five years

She enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1976 as an E-3 Seaman.
*Early on, she was chosen as a model for Navy posters, and also represented the Navy in Public Relations projects.
*1976-77-She attended Radar Specialist School
*1977-78-She was stationed at Fleet Combat Training Center Atlantic; worked in the Human Goals Office and Drug/Alcohol Office; and was promoted to E-5, Second Class Petty Officer
*1978-She volunteered for duty on the U.S.S. Vulcan for the First Women at Sea
Program
*1978-82-She served on the U.S.S. Vulcan as Operations Specialist, Radar
*1980-She was promoted to E-6 Petty Officer, First Class
*1984-She was promoted to E-7, Chief Petty Officer
*1984-87-She conducted Anti-Submarine Aircraft Training at Fleet Combat Training
Center; and she taught Helo Control for the identification system of ships and aircraft
*1989-She was promoted to Senior Chief Petty Officer
*1989-91-She worked as certified alcohol counsel at Norfolk Alcohol Rehabilitation
Center; and she trained navy and civilian personnel in the navy's policies regarding
alcoholism
*1991-93-She served as Senior Enlisted Member on the U.S.S. Ainsworth; and she estified before a panel of the Presidential Commission for Women in Combat.
*1993-94-She served at Operations Specialists School in Virginia Beach

SOME FIRST SHE ACCOMPLISHED DURING HER CAREER:
*1976-77-She was the first woman to finish the U.S. Navy's Radar Specialist School all-male class with Honor Graduate Designation
*1982-84-She was the first woman to conduct refresher training courses on navy ships
*And also the first woman to conduct amphibious ship-to-shore training at the Amphibious School
*1987-89-She was the first woman Chief Petty Officer to serve as Assistant Officer in charge of a military detachment of twenty on board a U.S.N.S. Merchant Marine Ship. She was responsible for all communications for the ship.
*1991-She was the first woman to become the leading Chief Petty Officer on board a navy frigate, the U.S.S. Ainsworth
*1994-She was the first woman to serve on board the nuclear aircraft carrier, the John C. Stennis
*1995-She was the first grandmother on the nuclear aircraft carrier, the John C. Stennis after serving twenty years in the military

Inducted:
Member of The Harvey Alumni Association
Distinguished Graduates
June 2, 1995

SEEING STARS on a January night...

I am a chronic gazer to the skies.

 

I look up into the sky each night 

to see what I can see there,

be it moon or stars or

simply cloud-filled nothingness.

 

Last night the curving of the earth

and darkness of the winter night

made it seem the stars had come to earth

and I was actually among them.

 

So big and bright and close were they,

it seemed to me that I could

pluck them from the sky at will,

like apples from a tree.

 

But this awestruck woman left them

in the sky where they belonged.

 

Oh, I was humbled by the beauty

of this starry, starry night.

 

   ---Rose Moore on a January night 2012

 

 

 

 

 

A BIG YELLOW CADILLAC FOR DAD...

Last night I had a dream about my father. More specifically I had a dream about polishing a car for my father.

It was a big yellow, lightly used 50s Cadillac, and it was like new, inside and out; except that its exterior needed a good cleaning and polishing.

I was still a young girl in that 1950s dream, and however I had managed to bring home a Cadillac home for him, I'm not sure. But dreams are dreams, and anything can happen in a dream.

In my dream last night, I hid that car behind the barn (we actually didn't have a barn in real life) and proceeded to wash and then begin putting a good coat of wax on that pretty yellow Caddy. An hour, maybe two, is what I thought it would take to do that task. However, it turned into a full day, because that car had a lot of chrome and decoration, and it was also so big I had to take a ladder out of the barn to wax the roof.

In the meantime, darkness was coming on when I heard my father calling for me. Feverishly I continued to polish that fine surprise of a car. I finally finished, and that's when I woke up.

Now here I am, wondering over my morning coffee why I dreamed I had brought a fancy yellow Caddy home to my dad in the first place. And then I realized how much I still connect my dad with the memories of his old, black 1934 Buick; he was still driving that car when he died in 1955 at the age of 49.

I loved the sound of the car's engine; a sound much like the sound of wind rushing through the leaves of a tree in autumn. He often returned home from his railroad job well after dark, and I would go to sleep with my bedroom window open, half listening for the sound of his car.

We kids often got teased by schoolmates over that old car, and one day I asked my aunt Helen why Dad didn't buy a newer car like everyone else. She enlightened me.

My father had been a bachelor until he fell in love with and married my mother when he was 33 years old. Prior to that, he always had new suits, and every few years had a new car too. What had changed? Turns out it was marriage and family! As good practicing Catholics who respected the church edict against birth control, Mom and Dad were one of those couples who ended up with a lot of children. So, said my aunt, my father had simply traded new cars and new suits for a house full of children.

Just before Dad's death, he had surprised us all when he announced that he had talked to the local Ford dealer and was going to buy a brand new station wagon big enough to carry all his kids at once. And that station wagon would be bright red! What excitement!

Dad, however, died at work of a heart attack before that purchase came to be, and his old car sat in the garage for quite some time before Mom finally sold it.

Now, I sit here with my morning coffee smiling at my daring deed in last night's peculiar dream. I had simply taken myself back in time to fulfill Dad's plan to buy a new car for his family. But I had gone one giant step farther; I had replaced the bright red Ford station wagon with a big, fancy, shiny yellow Cadillac. 

Now what would Dad have thought of that?

THE START OF THE NEW YEAR 2012 IN MY MORNING VALLEY...

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2012 TO THE WORLD.

MAYBE THIS RAINBOW WILL BRING GOOD LUCK TO US ALL.

OR MAYBE NOT.

BUT IT DOES BRING THE COLOR OF HOPE TO THE FIRST DAWN OF THE YEAR.

GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST: A LETTER FROM SANTA

. 

FORE NOTE: Our three Moore boys were very young when they began to find letters from Santa under the Christmas tree, typed on their mom's old portable Underwood typewriter. The letters began with Mark, the eldest, who did not begin having little brothers until 1967.

Each year, after the Christmas tree was set up and decorated for the Christmas season, the typewriter would be set under the tree. Over the days before Christmas, it would contain typed letters to Santa, dictated to Mom by Mark (and later his little brothers Bryan and Kevin).

Santa would respond to each letter sernt from my boys, and the two-way Christmas correspondence would cease after Christmas morning and begin again in the next Christmas season.

The following letter appeared on the typewriter for Mark one morning in 1965, when he was four. At that time, deer were not yet a common sight in our back yards, and small children often yearned to see one. Santa had written in response to Mark's questions about deer, reindeer and flying.

 

North Pole, December 12,1965

Dear Markie,

I got your nice long letter yesterday. One of my helpers handed it to me just as I left the big toy barn.

I do not have any reindeer that are ready to retire, Markie. I am truly sorry to say this, for I know how you have wanted one of your very own. You said you want your uncle to go deer hunting and catch one for you to keep in your back yard.

But let me tell you something about deer, Markie. They love peace and quiet, and are unhappy anywhere but deep in the woods. They need to be free. It would be very selfish to keep any wild animal fenced up so that you could look at them whenever you wanted to.

But keep an eye on those apples that fall from the trees near the edge of your woods. I think one day a deer might appear there in the early morning or late afternoon. And you could watch it eat, and see it return to the woods in great, beautiful leaps. Believe me, it would be wonderful for you to watch.

I never cage up any of my reindeer. They roam free, and return to me before Christmas. They keep themselves in very fine shape for the Christmas run. They practice take-offs and landings, just like your mom does at the Concord Airpark

All of my reindeer are a little different from each other. Donder and Blitzen are the friskiest, liveliest, most joyful of all. They ride in back of my team right in front of the sleigh.

 

I used to hitch them to the very front, but they were so fast, the other reindeer could hardly keep up. Then they would be so tired after the toys were delivered that sometimes I was afraid they wouldn't be able to finish the trip back home. And the rascally Donder and Blitzen also kept flying off course and pulling us into all kinds of trouble.

Then one of my elves came to me and said, "Santa, Donder and Blitzen are very high-spirited, and it makes us all happy to fly with them. But Dasher and Dancer are older and wiser. They should be the ones to lead us. They will not run your sleigh into dangerous places, because they have seen the things that can happen. They will fly fast, but not so fast the other deer will get tired before we have delivered the toys."

A fine idea! With Donder and Blitzen right in front of the sleigh so close to me, I soak up their energy. And I never fall asleep at the reins anymore. They make me feel quite young.

I appreciate your advice on good landing spots. I think I will touch down where you said, in the backyard at the edge of your grandpa's back porch next door to your bedroom. Quietly, quietly.

You asked me what my Christmas trip is like. Oh my! I love to fly!

On Christmas Eve, I give my sleigh a pre-flight check. I make sure the runners are on tight, and the packages are tied down. I check my reindeer harnesses and my own extra large seatbelt. I dress warmly, and give my reindeer warm oatmeal with raisins and syrup and milk. And then we hitch up!

I use a special night-time flight chart to show me the way to the houses where children live. I keep an eye peeled for planes, and I have seen quite a few. But I don't think they see me, I whoosh by so fast!

Rudolph is my navigation light. My reindeer move us through the night sky so much quieter than airplanes. The only sound we make is a kind of swish, like the wind. And every now and then, you hear the reindeer click their hooves together. It is so peaceful.

When I fly over the Concord Airpark, I holler HO-HO-HO because they always leave their runway lit for me. If I have time, I shoot a few landings for fun. Your friend Adolph Luhta always checks for our tracks on his runway on Christmas morning.

I have to go back to the toy shop now, Markie. I still have a lot to do. If your mom has soloed by then, please tell her to keep the plane on the ground on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. It's just better that way!

Thanks for the apple bits you always leave for my reindeer. And remember to look for our tracks in the yard on Christmas morning!

 

---Love from S. Clause ("Santa")

 

AFTER NOTE: This old typewriter is of the type on which the letters from Santa appeared. This is not the actual typewriter; that was sold at a garage sale by my middle son when he was a teen-ager. One Christmas  week more than a decade ago, that same boy went to an antique shop and found this portable Underwood exactly like the old "Christmas typewriter." He left it sitting on the hearth on Christmas morning.

 

P.S. Mark's mom soloed on the second day of Christmas; 12-26-1965. (Sure surprised those turtle doves)

THERE ARE GOOD PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD...

 

The recent stories of the people impulsively paying off the Christmas-present layaways for others is a comforting reminder that there are and always have been good people in this world. I share words I wrote some years ago on that subject; they seem appropriate for the Christmas season.

GOOD PEOPLE

There ARE good people left;

sometimes I forget that when I watch the evening news.

A good person once drove many miles to return my wallet,

with credit cards, cash and treasured photos still intact.

Good persons offered us their home one bitter winter day

when fire drove us from our own;

they were concerned our babies would not thrive

in a hotel.

A good person stopped her car one gloomy day

and told me I should know my front-yard flower garden

cheered her every time she passed my home.

A good person found a family album

with the name of Moore inside, and she called me

and countless other Moores to try to send the treasure

to its proper home; it wasn't ours but we were grateful.

A good person,

the patient of a doctor I once worked for,

presented me one Christmas with a handmade rug;

its creation represented hours of pain from

his arthritic fingers.

There ARE good people left;

We should not forget that when we watch the evening news.

--Rose Moore, 1993