It’s always tough news to hear when a friend’s child is injured in combat. Ron Worrel’s 22-year-old son Travis is Combat Medic with the 3^rd Brigade, 1st Armored Division, 1-41 Infantry Battalion, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Ron reports Travis was severely injured when a rocket-propelled grenade exploded next to him during a dismounted patrol in a village, near Kabul, Afghanistan. Travis was then airlifted via helicopter to FOB Shank for initial treatment, and then sent to a hospital in Germany for surgery.

“He is stable, did not lose any limbs or (his) eyesight,” writes Ron through Facebook.

Travis was flown to Walter Reed Medical Center, where he’s undergone surgery to remove shrapnel from near his spinal cord. Doctors say there was no fluid leakage and that he remains in stable condition, though still on a ventilator.

Ron is currently In Bethesda, Maryland at Travis’ bedside. Prayers are needed for both the family and for the wounded soldier.

I decided to do what I’m not really supposed to do anymore – I went for a short jog. Today, as expected, I’m stoved up and in so much pain.

No — I’m not complaining – I’m jus’ sharing with you.

Time and again I dream of running through the Redwood’s behind my childhood home like I used to do. My wife’s constantly waking me up because I thrash so much while in bed.

The only other dreams I have are more or less nightmares, brought on by bad and rough memories. This however is a different subject all together.

My plan is to recuperate from the soreness in my calves and the ache in my lower back only to do it to myself once again as soon as the hurt subsides. I want to work myself back into shape and I need to do it slowly.

Like the Chinese proverb says, “A journey of a thousand miles begin with a single step.”

As the tallest building in Del Norte County, the 5-story Surf Hotel towers at corner of Front and H Streets across from Beachfront Park. Although the foyer suffered extensive damage from the tsunami of 1964, the Surf was one of the few buildings in downtown Crescent City to structurally survive.

But it remained empty until mid-1988.

As a kid, I used to daydream of owning the Surf. I thought it a fairly romantic building, full of history and adventure.

When I was in my very early 20’s I used to sneak into the hotel, usually with a six-pack of beer and head straight for the roof. From there I could look out over the mostly sleeping town.

That all came to an end when someone introduced guard-dogs to patrol the building, keeping trespassers like me outside. I used to listen those dogs howl all night long while working at KPOD as it was located only a few hundred feet from the hotel.

It was a terrible, lonely sound, seeming a perfect fit for the abandoned building.

Former owner, Walt Miller had planned to create condominiums in the building, along with a lounge and restaurant. He later decided private development was not a good idea — so he opted towards governmental development.

With Pelican Bay State Prison under construction, space needs at the courthouse were changing. It was believed the Surf Hotel could accommodate a number of county offices.

Some people opposed taking the building off the tax rolls while others said parking would be a problem. One thing everyone could agree on was that the hotel had to be renovated.

In its hay-day the Surf was the most elegant stop between Portland and San Francisco, playing host to movie stars like Clark Gable, Carol Lombard, and William Boyd, better known as Hop-Along Cassidy.

Even film star Lloyd Bridges along with his father, were co-owners of the hotel at one time.

Construction on the building was completed January 7, 1854. Known as the Crescent City Hotel, M.G. Tucker was the owner until August 19, 1857, when Gottlieb Myer took control.

Francis Burtschell bought the hotel from Myer the same year, when Myer decided to go to Jacksonville, Oregon. Burtschell then leased it to Jacob Richert.

The Richert family eventually moved to Arcata in 1870, leasing the Union Hotel. When they moved, Burtschell took the hotel again.

Burtschell built new addition to the front side of the hotel. Once completed, the name changed to Bay Hotel.

W.H. Woodbury purchased the hotel in 1894, but he died a year later. His wife continued to manage the business until she sold the hotel to Oscar Lauff in 1926.

Lauff, using money he’d made selling stock, that same year had the rear of the hotel torn down. In its place would rise the Lauff Hotel.

In 1943, the Lauff was sold to Clifton Richmond who then sold to Sam Wilson. In 1946, Wilson sold the hotel to the Surrey brothers from Montana — friends with one time guest Hop-a-Long Cassidy.

The Surrey’s owned and operated the hotel until the 1964 tsunami. They shuttered the building after it was discovered a large crack in the foundation had been caused by the earthquake that preceded the tidal wave.

As of 2011, records from the California Secretary of State office shows the registered agent of the Surf to be James McCoy, having filed April 24th, 1987.  At present the former hotel serves as affordable housing with 55 units for low-income, elderly, and disabled residents.

It was a laughable moment – a woman I know exclaimed, “Let Tom pay for it, he’s in radio and famous. He make’s lotsa money.”

Laughable because anyone who has ever been in radio broadcasting, whether it’s behind the microphone, sales, engineering, support or management, knows making LOTSA money is something that happens few and far between in the business. As for famous – not so much either — though people do ask my wife from time to time if she related to “Tom Darby on the radio.”

I can only imagine what some of her responses have been.

Radio was something I wanted to do when I was not yet a teenager. In fact I pioneered the carrying of a “boom box,” on my shoulder nearly a decade before it became popular with urban kids. I had Dad’s Emerson, AM/FM radio, dual cassette recorder/player with a two-meter band with me almost every summer from the time I was ten.

I had it with me the day I first met Kelly Spruce — whom I immediately ‘crushed on.’ Not even then would I let that stupid radio go.

In fact, I used to get teased about packing it around with me by the neighborhood kids and I managed to get into a couple of fist-fights after someone took the thing and started playing keep away with it. If I recall I lost both fights but because they were afraid of what my old man might do – they returned it after having their fun time.

Honestly – I sometimes question my desire for working in radio. After all, the truth be told here, I don’t even like the sound of my own voice.

Crap! I’m sitting here looking at all the stuff I’ve managed to accrue and I don’t like what I’m seeing.

What happened to my life-time motto, “Keep it simple?”

I need to back a dump truck up to the house to get rid of most of this junk.  I’m very disappointed in me.

Perhaps I should move everything I don’t want or need out onto the driveway and hang a great, big “FREE” sign on it. After all it is said, “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”

Sometimes I forget how politically divided people can be. When I do forget – I tend to open my mouth and insert my foot – even when it comes to people I think of as friends.

At issue is a painting of Che Guevara that’s on display at the Reno-Tahoe International Airport. Seems 71-year-old Jose Paz, a Cuban native now living in Reno, saw it and took offense.

I can’t say that I blame the old man.

Personally, I think of Guevara as a thug and murderer. I’ve never really unstood his appeal — especially by the younger crowds.

Anyway the airport’s refusing to take the piece of artwork down until the display ends May 9th. Personally, I think this is wrong and I said so when the subject came up between my co-worker, Neil and me.

He says it’s stupid to condemn a piece of artwork because the subject happens to be of a Communist Revolutionary. I can’t fault him on this because art like this as in most cases is protected speech.

My stand is thought — the airport receives funding from the U.S. Government and is therefore a federal facility. Because of this – there should be no place on the wall for Che Guevara, Boris Yeltsin or Helen Keller for that matter — since she too was a Communist.

“After all,” I insisted, “They wouldn’t allow a religious painting to hang on their walls, would they?”

“I can see your point,” Neil admitted

Eventually I apologized for getting so heated during our conversation. That’s when Neil let me in on the fact that he came to work in a bad mood and the entire story struck him wrong.

Well, I told him my little secret – I’m in a bad mood, too. We both had a laugh at our silliness.

Russian “Airborne Assault Forces” will be arriving in Colorado this May for joint terror-war exercises with U.S. soldiers, according to U.S. officials and Russian military personnel cited in media reports. The Kremlin’s Defense Ministry and the U.S. Department of Defense both said it would be the first time in history that American and Russian airborne special operations troops would be training together on U.S. soil.

While U.S. officials remained largely silent on the operation, the Russian government has been touting the unprecedented terror drills through official announcements and news reports in state-controlled media for over a week. In fact, virtually all of the details about the exercise that have emerged came from Kremlin sources.

Before the official drills begin on May 24, the Russian government’s forces will reportedly be training to use a wide array of American military equipment at the U.S. Army’s Fort Carson base. Parachuting, operations planning, reconnaissance, assaults, raids, and evacuations will all be on the agenda.

The training is expected to last until May 31, though U.S. officials said it would go until early June.

The U.S. government is simultaneously engaged in war games in the Asia-Pacific region with the Communist regime ruling Vietnam and the government of the Philippines. And in August of 2010, U.S., Russian, and Canadian air forces worked together on terror drills involving hijacked airplanes.

Early on the morning of April 3, 1962, workers were welding in the basement of Reno’s Golden Hotel. The oxyacetylene tank exploded, erupting into flame.

The workers tried in vain to put it out, but before they could,  it was burning upward to the ground floor. New car, parked as a jackpot prize, caught fire and soon the flames were racing through the entire hotel.

There was no sprinkler systems and no central alarm. Many guests learned about the fire only when they called the front desk to check on the time.

When they tried to escape they found the hallways choked with smoke and flames. Some of the guests were trapped.

Police and firefighters led a number of people to safety. An elevator operator made repeated trips saving as many as 40 guests.

Hoses poured water on the blaze from the nearby seven-story Harolds Club. A forest service plane dropped several 250 gallon loads of water trying to extinguish the flames.

Originally built-in 1905, the Golden had several  make-overs through the years, including a facade with blinds or shutters containing horizontal slats over the upper floor windows. These blinds blocked escape and efforts to get water on the flames.

Finally a near-by construction crane was brought in to bust holes in the slats. But even those efforts couldn’t save the building.

The Golden eventually collapsed leaving six people dead.

The hotel was rebuilt, but the owners ran short on money and it was leased to its neighbor, eventually becoming the foundation for Harrah’s. Today there’s nothing marking the tragedy.

However a block away there’s a memorial to the victims of a more recent and even deadlier fire. The Mizpah Hotel literally stood in the shadow of the Golden as it burned.

Over 44-years later, on Halloween night 2006, the Mizpah went up in flames due to arson, killing 12 people.

Bipolar being what it is makes today a bad time to suddenly find myself cycling down. The last week I’ve been a riding a wave of ‘high,’ that’s been incredible — but now comes the inevitable crash.

Dammit!!!

My sudden onset of depression is tempered by the fact I completed the cover art for my forthcoming sophomore project, “Redwood Drive.” I was so happy earlier today to have finished it — but now the emptiness has caught up to me.

This ‘feeling’ hit me jus’ after wrapping up the final touch-up to the picture. It’s of the stop sign at the end of the road leading to Highway 101 in Klamath.

As I sat looking at the cover art I suddenly saw something in the photo that I hadn’t, even though I’ve had it since I took it in 1972.  Like I said before — it’s at the “end of the road.”

Think about it now, I realize it’s a metaphor for my childhood — as one day I’d find myself out there on life’s ‘highway.’ I had a choice — left or right –and I turned left — and am still wondering if I made the correct decision.

Despite my sudden down-turn in mood, the cover art does look pretty effing good, I think.

Odd how easily — and quickly a day can get away from me.

I started out writing an article on the history behind the western film, “The Ox-Bow Incident,” but got side-tracked when my neighbor came over from across the street for a visit. It was a nice visit and an enjoyable chat — but now I’d rather sit out on the porch sipping a beer than sitting in my room, writing.

Perhaps this evening after everyone goes to bed or even tomorrow. Besides, it’ll give me the opportunity to get out the DVD and watch it — after all it’s only an hour and ten minutes long.