This memoir presents author Elvin Bell's recollection of his own history and of his encounters with some of the most well-known movers and shakers of the times. He provides us with astonishing revelations based upon his discussions, meetings, and casual conversations with them. The Event Makers I've Known shares incredible close-ups of everyone from President Richard Nixon and his secretary, Rosemary Woods, to Elvis Presley and screen siren Marilyn Monroe. Bell reveals shocking details of the love affair between Woods and the Interior Secretary and describes the impetuosity of General William Westmoreland, among other stories. In addition to sharing stories of the famous people he has known, he tells his own personal stories, including the tragic story of his grandmother's death within just a few minutes of his mother's birth in a fire that engulfed the hospital in flames. He talks about the daring rescue of his mother by the young doctor who delivered her-a rescue that cost the doctor his eyesight, his occupation, and eventually his life. He also shares fascinating stories of the hardships, ingenuity, and perseverance that many parents and grandparents endured on their "dust bowl" quest to reach California. In his tenth book, The Event Makers I've Known, Bell takes readers on an emotional roller-coaster ride of superstar meltdowns, victories, and heartfelt personal stories.

THE EVENT MAKERS I'VE KNOWN

By ELVIN C. BELL

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Elvin C. Bell
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-4793-9

Chapter One

Event Makers:

Part A: DAVID E. HAYDEN

David E. Hayden was born in Florence, Texas. After his service in World war I he moved to Fresno, California and lived near the Fresno City College campus at Clinton and Maroa Avenues. Our friendship lasted from the first time we met in the mid 1960s. We never discussed old war stories, but I certainly knew of his "above and beyond" military service.

It started a couple days after the United States entered World War 1. Dave was first in line at his hometown to enlist in the Navy. He became a medic, and after basic training and some clinic work in a hospital emergency room he was put on a troop ship for France.

On September 15, 1918, and within hours after stepping onto French soil, Dave was sent to Thiacourt, France where he was attached to the United States Marine Corps' 2nd Battalion, 6th Regiment.

The USMC infantry unit was engaged in its third day of close combat with German troops.

With minutes, Dave found himself in the middle of the fight.

A marine was badly wounded on the forward edge of the battle area.

Dave disregarded his own personal safety and ran across an open field swept by enemy machine-gun fire to reach the wounded marine. Realizing that the marine would die without immediate hospital care, Dave lifted the marine and unhesitatingly carried him in a zigzag race back across the open field.

While the wounded marine was being evacuated, Dave made another daring rescue in the same open field.

Both marines lived. So did Dave.

Although partially disabled from war wounds, Dave became a Deputy U. S. Marshal with offices on the second floor of the Fresno Main Post Office. He was my frequent coffee break companion in the Hotel Californian coffee shop on Kern Street.

During my 16-year tenure in elected public office, it was my honor and privilege to be invited on several occasions by Federal Court Judge M. D. Crocker to be the principal speaker at the swearing-in ceremonies for new United States citizens.

On those occasions, I brought Marshal Dave Hayden with me, along with a USMC Color Guard that presented and posted the colors. At Judge Crocker's request, Dave wore his Medal of Honor as he stood with us in front of the bench as we faced the 100-plus large audience.

Judge Crocker, who had a deep resonate voice that sounded like it had been dipped in bronze, looked regal and ecclesiastic in his black robe as he held a copy of Hayden's Medal of Honor citation and read it to the audience.

The part that brought the first tears to the audience—who sat in rapt attention—was when Judge Crocker read how Hayden, as a Navy battlefield medic, volunteered to run nearly two hundred yards through enemy machine-gun fire to aid a Marine who was wounded in combat.

And he read: "When Hayden reached the wounded man, he examined the wounds and knew the man could not survive without immediate hospital care.

"Disregarding his own safety, Hayden picked-up the marine and carried him in his arms as he ran back through the two hundred yard field of intense fire until he reached friendly forces. Hayden's actions saved the man's life and one other marine's life that day."

When Judge Crocker finished reading, he slowly and decisively pointed several times to persons in the audience; left to right, right to left, front to back and back to front. Then he took a side step and pointed to MOH recipient David Hayden and said in a booming voice to the soon-to-be-citizens, "Here is the role model I want each of you to follow as citizens of the United States of America."

Then, in a command-style voice he asked, "Will you promise me that you will do that."

After a moment's pause and more wiping of watery eyes, the crowd responded with a united, boisterous shout of "Yes. Yes we will."

Then the applause started, followed by a unanimous standing ovation.

An ear to ear grin came over Judge Crocker's face as he leaned over, took Hayden's right hand and held his arm high.

The shouts turned to respectful exuberance.

There wasn't a dry eye in the chambers.

And as the principal speaker, I had to follow that!

Every six months for several years I had to follow that!

And each time, afterward, following a pleasant, brief conversation in Judge Crocker's chambers, Dave and I rode in silence as we took the elevator down to Fresno Street, and gave each other a warm, knowing smile and a firm handclasp.

Each time, as I turned and started back to city hall, I felt as though I had been baptized anew—but this time it was in the blood of our founding fathers and our brethren who came ashore at Omaha Beach, and all of our patriots—those fallen and those still alive.

* * *

Part B: GREGORY "PAPPY" BOYINGTON

Gregory "Pappy" Boyington was more than a friend. He was a frequent horizontal passenger on the back seat of my car on those occasions when I drove him home after his night of drinking at Charley's Restaurant at Clovis and Butler Avenues in southeast Fresno. The bartender knew that when Pappy fell off his bar stool and curled up on the floor, that was the signal to either call a taxi, if Pappy had any money left, or me. I lived nearby on Huntington Boulevard.

Even with his faults, I viewed Pappy as an icon among the toughest American patriots and freedom fighters this country ever produced. So I was usually handy and willing if he needed a ride.

No other American fighter pilot in the history of aviation shot down as many enemy aircraft as Pappy Boyington. He had 28 confirmed kills in his F4U Corsair "Lucybelle," while his squadron was credited with destroying 197 Japanese aircraft.

Eddie Rickenbacker's solo record was in second place with 26 kills.

And Pappy, unlike Eddie, had several additional records that were, well, just a little over the top.

Pappy was the only pilot who escaped eight different general court-martials, survived a career that floundered amidst a series of drunken brawls, and was unceremoniously kicked-out of the Marine Corps.

Within a couple days of being booted-out, Pappy was recruited and welcomed into the China-based Flying Tigers. His new job, with a pay increase, shocked Pappy's widely disliked former incompetent wing commander who ranted and raved his angst.

Pappy's new job had the reverse impact on the wing chaplain who posted his glad tidings on the pilots' alert room bulletin board. His note read:

    "Goodness gracious,
    lo and behold,
    and golly gee.
    Pappy parted the sea
    and went ashore
    so glory be!
    "When improvements
    are made to this
    woeful, needy Wing,
    Pappy will return,
    You just wait and see."

It didn't take long for the "improvements" to occur.

Three days after the Secretary of the Navy received voluminous mail with attachments denoting documentation and lists of witnesses, the incompetent wing commander, who had a history of never acknowledging exceptional performances or promoting deserving marines, was relieved of command and escorted off the base.

Concurrently, while the Flying Tigers were soaking in the media blitz on Pappy, the Navy Secretary ordered a promotion for Pappy and reinstated him in the USMC with his own squadron...