When one has worn as many career hats as I have over a working life spanning more than 60 years, people become important markers in your life. My careers have touched on the military, entertainment, broadcasting, the Olympic Games, arts, films, music and the beginnings and the adult years of the Internet. In all that, the sheer number of people who have influenced my life has been extraordinary. I mean, I am now very old! What follows are a few excerpts from this life.

In most respects, I am identical to my maternal grandfather, James Claude Short. I seem to have obtained very few traits from my father other than my tendency toward a bulbous body shape. Dad, like his father, was a veterinarian, and he had enormous people skills. He was affable, understanding, curious, and enjoyed learning. Those parts I got. Beyond that would be minor similarities at best. I don't entirely resemble my mother either. It's like I skipped a generation. But what thrills me is that I turned out more like my my mother's father, whom I worshipped, as did anyone who knew him.

My mother, grandfather, great-grandfather, and all their antecedants way back to my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather William Short I, have remarkable genetic traits dating back to the mother country, England, where in 1634 William Short I, at age 22, left England for the hip, new Virginia Colony. He did so just after the "Jamestown experiment" had been assumed to have been a failure, and as with all new settlers in the Virginia Colony, he would be "sponsored" by a headwright for whom he would work seven years of indentured service and, in the bargain, would learn a trade and be given 300 acres of tobacco-growing property. All the tobacco was be shipped back to England, feeding the insatiable smoking and chewing appetites of the Brits back home. At the end of his indenture, he was, as contracted, given the 300 acres of land along Lawnes Creek on opposite side of the the James River from Jamestown where he had been growing "tabacky" on behalf of the headwright. James River is a British naming of the tributary which the Indians called the Powhatan River.

We don't know which boat they came in on, but we do know that William Short "the first" arrived in the Virginia Colony on the same ship as Thomas Rolfe, his good friend. Thomas was the grandson of legendary Indian chief Powhatan, and son of the chief's daughter, Pocahontas, who, upon marrying tobacco farmer John Rolfe, had taken the Christian name, Rebecca. There are existing records showing that Thomas and William traded parcels of properties back and forth during their lives in the Virginia Colony, so it is assumed they remained lifelong friends.

William was 22 and Thomas 20 when they arrived in what is now Virginia. The British Colony was named after Queen Elizabeth I of England (7 September 1533 - 24 March 1603). Over three generations, the Short descendants did very well in their commercial tobacco growing and property investments. In fact, they were officially dubbed "Virginia Squires" - a title bestowed upon the wealthier residents of early Virginia. (I can't explain what happened to all that wealth but it must have disappeared as the family members spread far and wide after the Civil War when we suddenly had relatives scattered among Tennessee, Kentucky and Illinois...and one as far west as Round Valley, California!

Through generations, the Short relatives were good people: An uncle, William Short VI was Thomas Jefferson's assistant and later, adopted son who was Jefferson's diplomatic representative to France; James Short an Illinois farmer known by locals as "Uncle Jimmy" bought Abraham Lincoln's surveying tools for a whopping $120 when Abe, virtually penniless, had committed to run for U.S. president and needed to raise cash quickly for his campaign. After Lincoln became president, however, "Uncle Jimmy" as he had become known returned the tools to Lincoln. They are now displayed at Lincoln's New Salem State Historic Site. In a payment of Lincoln's gratitude, he named "Uncle Jimmy" Indian Agent in Round Valley, California. Talk about a political appointment!

My history is dotted with relatives who fought in the Revolutionary War, the Mexican American War, the Civil War, and World Wars I,and II, Korea and Viet Nam. A common running through all the Short relatives I've known is that we are all proud of our all-American heritage, having been here 142 years before the States were united. Lumbering came into the family after several generations of Shorts had been woodsmen in Illinois, clearing out trees to become future farmlands. Josiah Short, a grand uncle, uprooted himself and traveled west to the wilds of Lake Tahoe, settling at what is now Glenbrook, Nevada. Nearby, he found serious land to clear and timber to cut. The Ponderosa pines were felled, then floated across the southeastern corner of the lake to today's Al Tahoe area. The logs were loaded onto wagons which carried them up and over Echo Summit and down toward the west to Placerville, California creating the current Highway 50 route. The lumber was turned into everything from timbers to help build San Francisco, to toothpicks and matches at Placerville. Josiah is buried in a tiny cemetery at Glenbrook immediately south of the Glenbrook hotel, and a stone's throw from Lake Tahoe's Glenbrook beach. One of the great mysteries today, is who "Little Lulu" was; her grave marker, close to Josiah's, bears no further inscriptions other than her age: 5 years old at burial. Nobody knows who little Lulu belonged to.

Jumping ahead, when my Great Grandfather John Rice Short (b. 04/18/1862 - d. 01/20/1948) left his ranch in Mississippi and arrived in the great western frontier, settling into the newly-created town of Burbank, California, His children, of course, came west as well, from Mississippi and Tennessee. For a long time there was a nearly all-family compound of homes surrounding Sixth and Harvard Streets there. Now, all those gorgeous 1920s homes have been torn down and replaced by apartment buildings. Progress.

Burbank was the scene of many wonderful family Christmases and gatherings. I don't remember ever spending a Christmas with my father's family, all brothers, but far flung. But in Burbank we had many relatives including my mother's brother Jim "JC" Short, two sisters, Mary and Lois (a third, Lorayne, lived down the road - a long trip back then - in Long Beach).

My mother's two aunts are included among my wonderful memories of visiting the southland. Aunts Clara and Norma were sisters. Norma, a lifelong spinster and nurse, while Clara was a widow. Her grandson, Tommy (Newbon), was a terrific friend and cousin. The two sisters lived together in their late parents home on the corner and when my grandmother died, my grandfather moved in with his sisters. It was a giant, creaky hardwood-floored, victorian-era bungalow, with a couple of avocado trees, a fish pond, huge rooms, and next door was my great-grandfather's son Wesley Short's home where he, his wife Helen, and their daughter Dorothy lived. Next door to them were two or three of my other great uncles' homes marching south on Sixth Avenue. Across the street were more family members' homes, the "newer generation" of cousins. It was fun at 7 or 8 years old to be able to walk down the sidewalk and be greeted by grand uncles, aunts, cousins, and other relatives who all seemed to have children my age.

My mother worked while in High School at what would later become Burbank Airport. She was the "passenger agent" which meant she booked passengers on early passenger planes, then saw the passengers out to their planes, buckled them in to their seats, told them what they still tell them today about flight safety, and waved them off. In the course of her job she met many well known people as they were the ones who could afford to fly, and had the demanding time schedules causing them to do so. Loretta Young was a favorite, and she and my mom became friends. A young lady named Peggy Lou Snyder flew in and out of Burbank. My mother adored her, and talked about her frequently through my childhood. Peggy would later be known as "Harriet Hilliard," the girl singer with Ozzie Nelson's band - and later we'd know her as Harriet Nelson, following their marriage, after which she became the mother of Ricky and David. It was an interesting coincidence that my dad was friends with one of famed football player Tom Harmon's brothers (Lou? Harold? Gene?) I just don't know which).

Tom had a son named Mark who played football at UCLA. (Surely you watch NCIS) Mark's sister Kristin married Rick Nelson thus tying both families together and causing great confusion in my mother's attempts to keep her Christmas card lists straight. One of Tom Harmon's brothers may have been a Shriner.

I'm at right, with my favorite cousin David Claire, son of my dad's next-youngest brother. David was the brother I then, and now, wished I'd had, we're almost the same age, and with our moms, we spent every summer at Lake Tahoe. He taught me everything about fishing, we swam incessantly in Lake Tahoe, helped Frank Globin run his boathouse operation, camped, rode horses, roamed South Lake Tahoe full time. Couldn't ask for a better pal! Idyllic.

It's the only reason I can think of as to why my dad once hung out with Tom and his brother during a year when the Shriner's annual East-West Football Game - a fundraiser for their childrens hospitals - was held at Stanford University's stadium. Since we lived nearby, they had a reunion, centered around the game, but which mostly took place in the bar of their hotel. If you catch my drift.

My parents, when my dad finished college at Washington State, were married. Initially they lived in Bell, California just south of downtown Los Angeles. First they had my sister, and then nearly a decade later, I had been born in Los Angeles in 1940 at California Lutheran Hospital on Hope Street, and shortly thereafter my father, mother, sister and I moved to Dinuba, CA, where dad became a government meat inspector at a commercial meat packing plant (it was World War II. The U.S. had a lot of hungry mouths to feed!) When his father died, leaving Dad's mother with little support, he was able to convince the government to let him off the meat inspection hook (no pun intended) and to assume his father's veterinary practice - therefore being on the other side of the beef business. And we moved to Tracy, California.

My cousin David was just enough older than me that he was one grade ahead in grammar school, so consequently all the latest trends my age group enjoyed - dropping Jujubes onto people from the balcony at the movie theatre, annoying our parents, tree climbing, horseback riding, these learning experiences were certainly enhanced by David's counsel. At the same time, I was hopelessly and permanently younger than those in my grade due to having been "skipped" a grade in elementary school due to the "unfortunate" trait that by first grade I already knew how to read and write (thanks, parents!)

My mother never quite got over having to leave Burbank. It seemed all her fun times and memories were tied up there. Consequently - whenever possible - we enjoyed train trips down to Burbank on the Southern Pacific Daylight. I understand her attitude now as I know how one's high school years become indelible and I feel much the same way she did, about my years attending Menlo-Atherton High School and living in Atherton/Menlo Park. I mega-enjoyed living just south of San Francisco! And, I suppose I'm no different than most people, my high school years and all those great friends, and the countless good times are truly indelible. Those things never leave one. It was in Tracy that I skimmed through elementary schools, functioning also, alongside my sister, as my dad's "vet techs". We nurtured animals through his surgeries, recoveries and protracted care, traveled with him to farms, ranches, zoos and anyplace he was called upon to help animals needing treatment and care.

By the time I was about four years old, my sister, at 14, was already going in to Tracy High School. Today I am wise enough to understand that the very last thing a high school girl wants to hang around with is a smart-alec, trouble-causing, younger brother. And I found that out in spades. So what's a younger brother to do when everything he does irritates the older sister? Of course: he makes matters worse at every turn. I enjoyed my role in that. The dreaded younger brother. Educationally, due to having been skipped over a school grade, I found myself continually playing catch-up and always being younger than I should have been for any particular subsequent grade. At first, school was easy and I spent my time avidly assuring myself that I would be a famous actor some day even though I had to make do temporarily - starting at age 6 - with piano lessons and tasks ranging from the ongoing veterinary nursing, and kennel-cleaning to helping prepare microscope slides, and excersising. It became obvious that an acting career wasn't going to happen while living in Tracy, though I did get an appearance on a live radio program on KPO in San Francisco originating at the "Old Hearst Ranch in Pleasanton, California... where the sun shines alllll the time!" I got into a few school plays and other entertainment projects (photo above right, which adds my mom in an arguably fashionable hat should you click on the pic.).

In between school and all my activities, my sister and I as our father's assistants joined him on calls, visiting farms and ranches with their horses, cattle and other animals, and we greeted customers in his small animal hospital, cleaned kennels, bathed dogs and cats, and assisted in surgeries.

Unfortunately, in 1952 my parents decided they needed a 6-month vacation and (the following is my own opinion) dumped me off one day on my then just-married sister's doorstep, saying "here...you take care of him. We're taking our sinuses to Arizona for six months!" And so I lived and was educated through seventh grade in Rio Vista, California, a much-accelerated 7th grade class joined mid-year in a strange town, and in a classroom featuring an imaginary line down the middle which divided my 7th grade class from the 8th graders on the other side of the abyss. They were just as unhappy about having one teacher simultaneously teaching two grades at a time, I'm sure. On the other hand, fortunately, my parents returned from vacation just as the school year was over. Very good timing as I was just about to become the second Will Rogers: "I got kicked out of school again, Pa! That Principal and I just can't agree on how to run that school!"

We moved to Menlo Park, CA where I could start 8th grade in yet another strange town and school - but this one had opportunity written all over it! In no time, I became attached to the nearby Palo Alto Children's Theatre, still a popular venue and I regained my youthful sanity by improving my 12-year-old acting chops.

Now that I'm over 70, I look back on the "Tracy years" as a pretty enjoyable time. Growing up wasn't all that difficult - in hindsight - and I rather enjoyed most of the process, particularly the outstanding benefit of spending summers at Lake Tahoe with my favorite cousin David, whom I worshipped, as well as, his mother, Aunt Alice and my mom. The dreaded sister was married by most of that era, so I had the luxury of being of "only child" status. David and I simply tore up Lake Tahoe.

Globins Boathouse (above) and Globins Restaurant (below) Photos courtesy California State Parks Dept.

I cannot fathom today, parents not even worrying if their 8 year old son is off backpacking up to Eagle Lake, or going up the road with his cousin to rent a horse for a nice ride along the South Truckee River meandering through the meadows south of the lake, and camping out near trout-filled streams with his same-aged cousin. But it was the 1940s. I hate this phrase, but "back then things were safer" was true. I'm well aware that phrase makes me sound like the old fart that I've become!

Today parents cannot let children out of their sight for a minute. But David and I spent sunup to sundown days at Globin's beach and boathouse (shown at right) at Al Tahoe, "helping" Frank Globin and his employees rent the boats, giving directions, spending free time swimming in the lake or fishing off the docks. Sometimes we'd wander the beach and strike up conversations with visitors, meeting people from everywhere as they became tourists enjoying the sun and shore. We'd walk over toward the Nevada state line to Bijou and watch movies at the Center Theatre - a converted quonset hut that showed all the great films (my favorite: The Greatest Show on Earth with Betty Hutton, Cornell Wild, Dorothy Lamour and Charlton Heston! There was no radio or TV at Lake Tahoe. We had something better: evening campfires at the El Dorado Campground, just two blocks away, across highway 50, from our Tallac Avenue house. Each evening a different ranger hosted, there'd be group singing, entertainment, sometimes films taken of sights around the Tahoe area, and going to the campfire always meant that we'd stop at Globin's Restaurant (left) first for spaghetti, baked in a red clay ramekin with a handle, and washed down with an orange soda. I mean does life get any better than that?!

There were two main types of fish in Lake Tahoe back in the 1940s and '50s when the lake wasn't "stocked" by Fish and Game people. The deepwater trout, requiring a boat trip, were the Mackinaws. We'd see cars passing our Tahoe house with strings of 18-inchers strung from front to the back with limits of those things. For off-the-dock casting, however, David and I contented ourselves with catching "Chubs" sort of a "junk fish" not good to eat (though we did, occasionally) and if we were fishing the mouth of the Truckee, we'd catch delicious rainbow trout. David was the better fisherman. He could catch Rainbows, or Dolly Vardens or German Browns in any stream. Anywhere. Me? I spent my days drowning bait and being thoroughly inept at understanding how it was the David could catch fish standing 5 feet away from me, and I wouldn't catch a damned one! It still rankles me when I think about it!

When we'd have visiting Greeks (my mother's term for relatives you never see, unless you have a cabin at Lake Tahoe) It generally meant "the ride." David and I were deemed not old enough to stay along at the house, so we'd have to go along as our mothers drove the visitors around the lake to see the sights. Now Lake Tahoe is 22 miles long north/south, and 12 miles wide east/west. So the trip around the lake is roughly 80 miles. The "tour" always went counter clockwise so as to save Emerald Bay for one of the final fanfares. That meant the State Line where there were three casinos, originally, and only one hotel. But it was only a mile from our house so we didn't have to stop there, just pointed it out. The next "attraction" on the tour would be Cave Rock where highway 50 goes through a tunnel to save building a bridge around a mountain with a sheer drop to the lake. After Cave rock we'd stop at Glenbrook to see the aforementioned Short family predecessors' graves, the Glenbrook historic hotel, and to talk about the Short family's lumbering experiences (yawn). Then on up to the Incline area, Crystal Bay, Kings Beach - we kids always found the north shore of Tahoe to be windy and not as beautiful as the south and southeast part of the lake.

We'd wind our way to Tahoe City (at about the 10:00 o'clock position of the lake) where giant 4-foot trout lazed next to the dam. We'd get a loaf of bread and toss pieces to them - and salivate over thoughts we could catch one of those things some day. From there on, we'd view the mansions along the lake road, stop at Tahoma and Meeks Bay, and then Emerald Bay. This was my mother's favorite place on earth, and David and I liked it too. Mrs. Lora Knight, a friend of our grandmothers had built Vikingsholm at Emerald Bay. She had 'way too much money, and built this Icelandic/Swedish style castle at the end of Emerald Bay. (at right)From there, David and I would hike up to the highway, cross it, then hike on up to Eagle lake and do a little fishing (German Browns! Yum!), while the relatives were being toured through the castle. Mrs. Knight no longer being alive, had left her mansions and grounds to the State parks department as a state-operated tourist attraction. This included Fannette Island in the center of Emerald Bay, where Mrs. Knight would have tea parties just offshore from her castle.

Idyllic childhood comes to mind when I think about the times at Tahoe, but life did go on, and after surviving seventh grade living with my sister and brother in law in Rio Vista, California, my folks did, indeed, return after their six month vacation, retrieved me and I found we were going to live in Menlo Park, California as my dad had taken a job with the State of California Livestock Disease Control division, and his office would be next door to the Ferry Building in San Francisco. However, we'd live 35 miles south in Menlo Park/Atherton known by the locals as "Menlo-Atherton" - also the name of my high school. First, however, I had to survive eighth grade at Greenoaks Elementary School in Palo Alto. Which I did. Unscathed. Then, 1954 came along and I was a freshman at the relatively new Menlo-Atherton High School, recognized as one of the finest high schools in the state of California, and recognized by me as one of the toughest environments in which I ever existed!

Here's proud senior, Jan Claire, age 17, at graduation from Menlo-Atherton High School, Atherton, California in the class of 1958. In my class were the original Wrigley Twins, but M-A is the same high school that spawned 20 percent of Fleetwood Mac (the Buckinghams)! (Lindsey Buckingham, class of 1976.) It was there that art instructor Daniel Umberger taught me the joy of painting, while Albert Schmolze flunked me in Algebra. I finally figured out the Algebra game...it's not whether you get the answer, it's How You Arrive At The Answer!

Legendary coach Tom O'Neil introduced me to the great sport of gymnastics, while Samuel DiSibio scared the bejesus out of most of us in his english classes! It amused Sam that I was curious about the language, and spent all the time I needed working on it. In November, 2008, he and I re-established contact a couple years ago when I received an email from him - he had googled our high school website! Shortly thereafter, we talked on the phone and I eagerly await his scholarly but fun postal letters even though today, I hear alums frightfully whisper his name. He's a great guy. Lives on Long Island in New York. Wish I'd have known that when we were living in New York City!

It is hard to believe our class of 1958 is already well past our 50th Reunion!.

A buddy of mine and I decided to join the Navy. I still don't know what made us do it, but it was the best experience of my life. The official boot camp photo is shown at left. I remember our company, 547, at San Diego - no longer there - raised a huge sum of money ($14) to purchase a radio, one of the of the few forms of entertainment allowed.

A recently unearthed photo of my company 547 Graduation from Boot Camp at San Diego Naval Training Center, September 1958.
I was company Yeoman, front left. (Click pic to enlarge.) Unfortunately, bit by bit, the SDNTC has been dismantled in favor of industrial parks and only a few administration buildings still stand, which have been put to other civilian uses.

I was thrilled my company in boot camp bought a radio, because teenagerhood and radio belonged together - the predecessor to the iPod, PDA, and Wii! I wanted to be in the radio biz ever since the age of four when I was curious as to how all those radio people could fit in that big wooden box sitting at the end of our living room, merely to entertain my family and me! Was Jack Benny a miniature person? And with a live audience of miniature people? How did they do that?

Broadcasting - radio - was my life. I was an avid listener, but I loved being on the air...and I got my chance in an armed forces radio station in Karamursel, Turkey! A couple of guys (Mickey Martin, Doug Cook) had built a radio station from parts and pieces. There was already an Air Force station on the base, but ours, of course, was Navy. I had to join the team. And did.

We had a radio fundraiser that got the military station staff excited about living in Turkey. We raised money to support Turkish old folks homes and orphanages then we presented the gifts. This picture was on the front page of Istanbul's daily newspaper on the day of presenting C.A.R.E. gifts to Kocamustafapasa Orphanage.

The Turkey experience was truly great. Friends Doug Cook and Mickey Martin started a radio station from scratch on our military base at Karamursel. Soon after, yours truly was doing a radio show on WUSN and wailing away with rock 'n roll hits by Little Richard, Pat Boone, and others.

The sound of "Running Bear" by Johnny Preston still gives me melancholy...and "Tan Shoes & Pink Shoelaces" by Dodie Stevens was another one we played constantly. I don't remember details, but for some reason I was asked to be program manager at KTUS, the Air Force radio station on the same base. But it allowed me to spread my wings a little more.

Jan, age 21

What followed was a stint at the Pentagon in Washington, DC, serving in the office of the Chief of Naval Operations (Admiral Arleigh "31-Knot" Burke.) And at nights I was attending the National Academy of Broadcasting where, under the tutelage of the venerable Alice Keith, I was preparing for the day when I would be out of the Navy and could find a job in radio.

So there I was at the Pentagon, working toward the end of my Naval Career and getting down to those lengthier final months... when the Cuban Crisis hit! It was bedlam in the Pentagon, but the time passed very quickly. My job was analyzing incoming messages from Naval stations around the globe to determine whom, within the U.S. Government, they needed to be routed to: CIA, State Department, National Security Agency, White House, Joint Chiefs of Staff and individual military services' headquarters. By September, 1962, just 4 months after President Kennedy did the big stare-down with Fidel Castro, my military duty was at an end. I stayed in Washington, however, to finish my studies at the National Academy of Broadcasting and an all-night radio job at WTOP, the CBS affiliate there. My superiors at the Pentagon had graciously allowed me to attend night school by shifting my work schedule as needed, and the school term extended past my retirement from the military. So I moved out of the Navy's Quarters K in Arlington, VA and stayed closer to school at a Dupont Circle hotel. I couldn't have left. I was learning so much and enjoying it immensely. Alice Keith, whom one of our instructors called "the ubiquitous Alice Keith" due to her ability to silently appear in a classroom as was done in those old outer-space movies. She was, however, president of the school and her no-nonsense approach to broadcasting was top notch. Personality wise, it was like having Elaine Stritch as your principal. It was the best of times, great instructors in the english language, announcing, dramatics, music, and there's nothing like having network people such as WTOP's Jamie Bragg, NBC's Chet Huntley and Broadway's Bill McGuire as mentors in broadcasting! Finally I graduated with honors and Alice's best wishes and headed back home.

1963 brought me back to California where I called Jim Walley who had just received permission from the FCC to build a radio station in Oroville, California. He needed someone who knew the FCC runaround, as well as current broadcasting technology and talent. Within days, he decided I'd do, and hired me. I was program director for the painfully small operation, but had the freedom to learn the "civilian way" a radio station was operated. After four years in Oroville, and the construction of new studios and the move there, I was offered a job as production director at what became a 15-year stint at KPAY in Chico and their parent corporation, Pacific Northwest Broadcasting. I was able to do everything: music director, program director, production director, operations director and corporate marketing director, designed and built new studios and their new FM station. I was able to explore all I had learned about the business while dealing some some of the finest people in broadcasting including owners Ned Richardson, Charles Wilson, and corporate VP's Roy Cordell - a former singer with Jan Garber's orchestra in the '40s and '50s, and Ron Garner, one of the sterling voices and programmers of one of the highest rated bay-area radio stations. What a team. It was a superior group. But I had an itch, and...

Ray Bright, 1982

Through a radio interview I met Ray Lorenz (now Ray Bright). He was gymnastics coach at Chico State University and he mentioned during our interview that gymnastics was one of the lesser-known sports at Chico state. Well I already knew a bit about gymnastics. I had decided that was what I wanted to do in high school. I completely overlooked the fact that I was skinny as a rail, six foot three inches and 145 pounds! When coach Tommy O'Neal at Menlo-Atherton High noticed that my reach extended well beyond the eight foot height of the horizontal bar, we both knew I would have a problem. So I enjoyed water polo!

So I invited Ray back for a second interview and to bring along a few team members, which he did. I was sort of piqued by his statement that gymnastics wasn't one of the top-draw sports at the university, I was immediately struck by Ray's guys' team spirit and collective brightness, and by the respect Ray held for their intelligence and courage in competition. The radio audience certainly picked up on it, as well.

A day or two later, over lunch at the Flumeburger Factory in Chico, Ray and I started talking about my favorite topic: promotion. Soon his team members were passing out "Come to our Meet Tonight" cards at the area swimming holes, and stores and clubs around town, which led to posters appearing everywhere, meetings, and, of course, more radio interviews and promotion, and soon gymnastics at Chico State was outdrawing the school's football and basketball programs combined. Then Ray asked me to announce their gymnastics competitions live, and we turned meets into learning sessions for the audiences. My philosophy was that an informed audience will become a loyal audience, and the more they knew about the sport, the more they knew what to look for - and expect - in the gymnasts. Their support propelled the competitors to try new things, and soon average scores were rising as the audiences increased. There were nights in Acker gym where you might have thought a Superbowl was taking place. Amid the bedlam, Ray had a continual smile.

I was thrilled to widen my influence by announcing more regional competitions taking place at other universities like the University of California at Berkeley and Davis and a competition at Stanford - a chance to revisit my old home town! More important, Ray was able to convince the big gymnastics team schools - Oklahoma, Southern Connecticut, Nebraska, University of California to send their teams in for exhibition competitions. We even brought in the Acrobats from Shanghai for a sell-out show. Nobody seemed to be immune to the infectious sport of gymnastics. We made it fun to go to a meet and people picked up on that.

As enthusiasm for the sport at Chico State was running on high, Ed Zimmer from the United States Gymnastics Federation flew in from Fort Worth, Texas headquarters to visit me.

He had flown in to Chico to tell me the US Gymnastics Federation had committed to bring the Soviet Olympic Gymnastics Team to the U.S. and U.S. Gymnastics Federation had the tour in production for the east coast which demanded most of their events staff. But with production already begun, USGF had received a proposal to host the China National Gymnastics Team for a west-coast-cities US tour. The USGF had the capability to produce one, but certainly not TWO simultaneous tours, so Ed had come to ask me to produce the west coast USA-China Gymnastics Tour. I nearly said "no," as it would mean I would miss some of of the Chico State competitions. But I actually said "yes" because I realized that this tour would bring the first Chinese National Team to American soil since before the Cultural Revolution. It would be huge - and in fact it was. The entire tour sold out the day tickets went on sale.

So I DID say yes. I agreed to do the tour because - and only because - the U.S. Gymnastics Federation agreed to add a Chico stop on the tour. I just felt Chico State deserved a big feather in its cap by having this international tour touch down in what was the smallest of all the cities on the tour. Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Albuquerque and Honolulu - this latter stop, a competition for ABC Television - were the others. Curiosity about the Chinese was at an all time high, and their performances - along with those of members of the U.S. National Teams were of great satisfaction to the crowds. Concidence: the color commentator for ABC, Gordie Maddux was, and remains, a longstanding friend of Ray Bright! Small world.

Exhausted by the busy show tour schedule, I returned to Chico, but, already, there was talk about more work for the Gymnastics Federation, a televised international invitational featuring teams from 14 countries to be held in Fort Worth, a short tour following that, and very rapidly I realized I would be spending a substantial part of my time away from home. Several weeks of it in Los Angeles doing the 1984 Olympic Games gymnastics events at Pauley Pavilion - including announcing all the Mens, Womens and Rhythmic gymnastics competitions.

And we all know what happened at the '84 Olympics in gymnastics! It turned into a wholesale auction of gold medals for the U.S. team, and a whole new life ensued for me. Announcing the Games' gymnastics competitions and all those wins for the U.S. team, led to announcing every televised national competition in the US after that until mid 1994. Working full time for the Gymnastics Federation was a real run. Hundreds of cities, television, event production, helping their membership program to an all time high of 180,000 members, and as my wife and I found, living in Indianapolis ain't bad, either!

Some long-time friends who competed in the 1984 Olympics are still active in the sport, including a couple who remain in the public eye: Peter Vidmar 1984 Olympic Gold Medalist; Li Ning, China, 1984 Olympic Gold Medalist, Bart Conner, Scott Johnson, Jim Hartung and Mitch Gaylord. On the ladies team, Mary Lou Retton, Kathy Johnson, Tracee Talavera, Michelle Dussere, and Pam Bileck won the Silver medal and several individual gold medals as well. Mary Lou, of course won the all around gold medal and became a household name and all of that raised the bar for the sport of gymnastics to the point that TV broadcasts of the sport drew record-breaking TV audiences, and our subsequent tour shows packed arenas to capacities never seen before in the sport. No longer was the sport languishing in the corners of darkened gymnasiums. Membership in the U.S. Federation grew to over 180,000 members in no time at all as families realized gymnastics is a perfect sport for their youngsters.

Above, with Mitch Gaylord, star of "American Anthem" and guess who played the gymnastics announcer in the last half-hour of the movie? Yup. We spent a whole week in Phoenix to film what amounts to about 60 seconds on screen, and one additional afternoon at the Zanuck ADR studios in Culver City recording all the background dialog spanning a half hour of the film. (That was in the same studio where the sound effects and voiceovers were created for Gone With the Wind decades ago!)

A "behind the scenes" look at some of the filming of the movie.

At left is a clip from the film "16 Days of Glory" in which I introduce the team at the beginning of the clip.

Right: Kathleen and I with Mr. and Mrs. Shannon Kelley (Mary Lou Retton). A great couple, and we toured thousands of miles together for quite a long time after the 1984 Olympics where Mary Lou had won her gold medal just a few yards from our microphones. Those 12 years we spent working with US Gymnastics were very gratifying and fun, bouncing between the Indianapolis office, and road shows, tours and competitions all over the country. It was never dull! During all this time I was also functioning as the national director of membership and had a staff of 5 to 8 incredible people who seamlessly took the reins when I was out on shows, competitions and tours. It was a busy time...just the way I like things.

At right is one of the greats in all of sport, Mr. Bart Conner, a member of the 1984 Mens Olympic gymnastics team that won the gold team medal as well as baskets of individual golds. Bart was in the middle of pre-recording "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas" for a holiday show in Indianapolis when the picture at right was taken. I believe it may have been the first time he sang in public, and certainly the only time he did it while standing in a sleigh pulled by twelve tutu wearing skaters amid a 17,000 seat arena! You hadda be there.

One of my most exciting career moments involved a brush with probably the finest entrepreneur in the showbiz biz. Tom Collins, former Holiday on Ice star, and by the time I met him, he was the road merchandising manager for Neal Diamond's always-successful tours. Tom had also handled program and concession sales for one of the Olympic gymnastics tours we produced after the 1984 Olympics. We enjoyed a great working relationship, and after the tours quieted down and I was able to go back to being Membership Director, he called me one day and told me he was producing his own figure skating tour and wondered if I'd like to come to Pittsburgh, see the show, and perhaps go on tour as the show announcer.

So Kathleen and I flew to Pittsburgh and were dazzled by the World and Olympic Figure Skating Champions show, (later shortened to Champions on Ice)but more than that met old and new friends - particularly Dr. Debi Thomas with whom the friendship continues through my Facebook page, the late Christopher Bowman, Brian Boitano and many more. Tom invited us backstage to join the cast for dinner and by the end of the evening, he had his new show announcer.

The annual ice tour usually took us to more than 35 cities around the country, as Campbell Soup Champions On Ice. The picture at right features Canadian Ice Dance champion Rod Garossino and many time World and Olympic champion, Brian Orser. The picture was probably taken backstage, or at a reception, in some place in some city. One doesn't keep close track of things when one is in a different city every day. Rod continues to stay in touch, now married and living in the great city of Calgary where he's a public relations guru with a large company. Brian is still out there skating in his singularly classy style.

It is an amazing thing that Tom Collins was able to continually present the top skating talents in the world on the tour. It is even more amazing that all the cast and staff would be gathered in one place at one time for a photo. This annual one was taken backstage at the old Boston Garden following that night's performance. For a larger version with cast names, click on the picture.

Click here to order the book
Champions on Ice: Twenty-Five Years
of the World's Finest Figure Skaters

The Champions on Ice tour always led to other activities involving figure skating such as announcing Skate America one year, and a production job for NutraSweet, a skating show at Notre Dame University featuring many skaters including Jill Trenary shown trying to hug the big guy at left. The sports world is always a fun place to be. You meet sterling people, travel a lot - I was doing 150,000 miles a year - and you eat too much. My well being was starting to be affected. I was getting too old for that sort of life! It wasn't long before Champions on Ice became a relic of history as the pressure on the U.S. economy drove fewer and fewer audience members to the shows and Tom faced a decision I know he hated to make: to sell the show. It was some of the best fun I'd ever had, but I fully understood his situation.

Already having been involved in the Internet world while at U.S. Gymnastics, in 1994 I decided make a new career move into the Internet business, and also, to get serious about my near-lifelong hobby of painting. I accepted a position with News Corporation's Delphi online service, AND I called upon an old friend who had a wonderful television series on PBS called "Welcome to my Studio". Helen Van Wyk taught painting at her studio in Rockport, Massachusetts, out on on Cape Ann, so I told her I'd like to visit and learn as much from her as I could.

Those of us who knew her were aware that she was seriously ill with brain cancer, and we sensed that we should learn as much as possible from her. So 25 of us converged on Helen and Herb's digs in Rockport and for at least 8 hours a day we hung on virtually every word she spoke, carefully describing her painting demonstrations, taking careful but frantic notes, and - most important - we hinged on every word of her critiques of our paintings. There's more about this session in my Helen Shrine, and samples of my works here.

1994 Led to a new career change, this time into the on-line industry and a job with Delphi in Cambridge, MA, which had just been purchased by Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation empire. After a very short time in Cambridge, I was transferred to News Corporation's building in Rockefeller Center smack in the middle of New York City as Senior Project Manager, Design and Architecture, of a new global internet-based online service for NewsCorp. The job involved getting into "Human Factors Engineering" a field in which software is vetted by having actual main-street computer users test it out, and the results tabulated which affects the ultimate released product. It was another exciting time, frenzied, bringing hundreds of new people on board, and construction and staffing of a beautiful new office setting 28 blocks south, in Manhattan's Chelsea district at 18th & Avenue Of The Americas (a term no New Yorker ever uses. It's still "6th Av" to them). There, in an expansive 70,000 square foot headquarters we built iGuide.

Just as quickly as iGuide was launched, Mr. Murdoch shut the company down. I figure he had decided he'd rather be launching TV satellites over China, and build up the 24-hour Fox News Network. I didn't walk away with the feeling he was as certain about his multi-national company's potential within the Internet as he was of television. In any event, we were evidently a lower priority and over 400 people were laid off (with benefits, of course) and that gave the Claires a wonderful opportunity to return to California and to retire. And in my own humble opinion, Murdoch made the right decision as his China TV market is gargantuan, and the Fox News Network was going gangbusters since the day he turned on the switch. I began to realize Mr. Murdoch had given me a golden parachute: a terrific opportunity to do anything I felt I wanted to do. So I retired!

The boss. ©WebMediaBrands Inc.

I want to say something about Rupert Murdoch. NewsCorporation is a family company. He inherited it from his father. His brother in law was my first "superior" in the company. His son James worked for us at Delphi in Cambridge, while going to Harvard. (Yes, he WORKED his way through Harvard.) Rupert's children, particularly his son Lachlan and daughter Elisabeth all have played roles inthe company.

The responsibility Mr. Murdoch bears on a minute-by-minute basis is far beyond enormous, and larger than anything mere mortals can conceive of. To sit down with him, one-on-one, however, is to experience an enlightening time second to none. I used to think I couldn't possibly learn more in short periods of time even if sitting down with the Dalai Lama. Murdoch is not a tyrant. He makes informed decisions. News media interview him, take his pictures, but they do not know the man. They don't know his inquisitiveness, his great humor, and his dedication to his companies and his continual empathy and awareness of the needs of the thousands of people who work for him all around the world. The media, darn them, concentrate on his financial worth and anything he does wrong. I learned to be amazed by all he does right, the good things he does for his employees, and the vastness of his businesses beyond the teeny contribution from within my cubicle.

Oh yes, just like Gibbs on NCIS, Rupert Murdoch possesses the ability of teleportation! More than once I felt a strange aura, and turned around to find him standing right behind me...and just as quickly he could vaporize and be gone.

Post-NewsCorp, my stab at retirement was boring. No sitting around under a tree here. Sorry, that wasn't going to be my style, it turned out. Some consulting with internet-related companies and designing commercial websites ultimately led back into working full time, helping establish a new, locally operated Internet service for the area telephone company, Sierra Telephone. Sierra Tel Internet is now the main Internet provider in the Yosemite mountains area of California. Once the company was completed and things were running smoothly, I "officially" retired - again - in February, 2006 and just as quickly went back to work - just a couple days a week - helping form a corporate communications divison for Sierra Telephone. So I'm "semi-retired" in old-person-speak.

In 1999, Kathleen and I also formed a Petanque Club in Oakhurst with 60 of our friends as members, and the club now has 80+ members, many of whom compete in national events, as well as the weekly local games.

Spending so much time at home found me taking time to be a pal of a wild animal. Bingo decided to be my friend. He's a Western Scrub Jay who has taken a liking to Kathleen and I...as long as we give him whole, unsalted peanuts on demand! Bingo has had six wives and 11 children since he's lived at least six or seven years in or near our yard. Now, he has learned that our neighbors will feed him too, so he has daily rounds to make. He's currently feeding wife #7 and they have several new children to feed! If Kathleen goes outside to read her Kindle, or to listen to her endless "talking books", Bingo has learned that if he hops up on her leg and stares at her, she'll call me to bring some peanuts. Clever bird!

And so life goes on, in beautiful Oakhurst, California among the Sierra mountains, that the Claires reside and interact with the members of this friendly, upstart mountain village just 13 miles from Yosemite National Park.

Always having a sideline or two going, I've completed writing the book of a new Broadway musical-comedy - and am now in the usual throes re-writing parts, and re-re-writing other parts, in association with longtime friend, Jerry A. Ranger. That's Jerry's real name, so it's a natural that he has become one of the most talented and sought-after music arrangers and show producers in the concert/musical business! Jerry, and his lovely former-vocalist-now-lawyer-wife Linda have been great friends of the last three decades, so it was only natural that Jerry - leader of the great New Deal Rhythm Band for all those years on the road, and arranger for all those great Seabourne sea cruise shipboard musicals - would settle in L.A. and we'd work together again. This time I wasn't promoting his band, but, instead, as sitting behind a computer writing a show called "Off Shore." It is about a hilariously varied group of members of the A.R.P. (Association of Retired Prostitutes) booking a cruise ship (the S.S. Luna Sea) for their annual convention, and with their law firm as guests on board. (The name of the ship indicates what takes place on the stage!) The reason for the meeting is to figure out some fairly legal ways they might establish a pension fund for the retiring members of the ARP. The rest of the story is on Jerry's website. The music he has put together - the tunes, lyrics and orchestrations - are first rate, and the whole show will be a lot of fun, and it's relatively G-rated! We're currently in the "Hey! Mr. Producer" stage. We're in the re-write and actor-readings stage now, and on the horizon will be a full fledged production of the show. Once we quit fooling around with new ideas!

Oh yes, back to the "semi retirement jobe at Sierra Telephone. Having completed the job and seeing it through a bit of cruise control...I retired again. FOR REAL in April, 2010.

Really. I mean it this time. I'm trying very hard to mean it. OK: I don't really mean it! Working, to me, is not only an opportunity to do a good job, but it keeps one current, allows dealing with wonderful fellow workers, keeps one's mind off the boring stuff of life and expands one's knowledge of what's going on in the community. Work is fulfilling and enlightening. Sitting around? Not so much.

You see, working for 64 years of my life has left me so "in the habit" that I can't stop keeping my eyes open for something marketingish, fun, and having the glorious enjoyment of working with dedicated and productive people. And having a paycheck is icing on the cake.

Visit my Helen Van Wyk Tribute Page. As one of the dominant mentoring, calming, and sane influences in my artistic life, she will never be forgotten by all her many students. Least of all by me.