I’m here in Pensacola, working the booth at the IT Gulf Coast Expo. It’s a sleepy expo in a rather sleepy town. Still, Pensacola has the feel of home to me, having spent 6 months here during my Navy days.
Driving around near my old base, I wondered to myself why I didn’t recognize any landmarks. Then I remembered that I didn’t have a car when I was here. I rarely ventured off the base. I had a bike I would ride to the PX (err, “Navy Exchange”), and occasionally I might visit one of the fast-food joints just off base. Anywhere else I needed to go I would call a cab, which would haul me to the downtown mall, among other fun places.
I do remember jumping in the car with my shipmates and making a wintertime visit to Pensacola Beach. The sight of the emerald-green water and empty sugar-like beaches sticks with me to this day.
I wasn’t exactly a scared kid when I arrived at Pensacola airport that night in 1988. I had laughed my way through boot camp and partied my way though A-school in western Massachusetts, leaving as honor graduate. Now beginning C-school, I felt confident about what I was doing.
The time I spent here was good time. It was my last stop before becoming a real sailor, joining the crew of the USS Elliot.