Sunday, October 19, 2025

Maps of Our Lives

Much of what I write are complex emotions, stories or ideas that aren't easily translated into visuals, but in my professional work, I advocate for the power of visual management and I realize it's something I do in my personal life as well sometimes. 

The first really cool map I made was for my epic road trip to visit theme parks and ride roller coasters and knock some fun things off my Life List. I even pre-planned my social media posts by creating multiple maps showing the progression of our trip along the way. I thought it was a fun way to keep my friends aware of our status, and could be especially helpful for the people who don't always see my posts and may get confused as to why I'm in Canada one day and in New Jersey the next. 

My first trip to the land down under had been planned for a decade before I actually got to go. The wait was well worth it, as we visited all but two of the Australian states and many Australian tourists we talked with on our various excursions were impressed that we were seeing more of their country than they had. While I accomplished just about everything on my Life List for Australia on that whirlwind of a trip, I fell in love with Australia, and have wanted to go back. 

I had the opportunity to go back twice in the last year, once for personal travel which included Tasmania, a state I hadn't yet been in, and once for work, which I extended into a personal vacation - partially to return to Tasmania in pursuit of the elusive and lesser-known Southern Lights, taking advantage of the timing of my work trip taking place in the winter. Many of my Australian colleagues have never been to Tasmania, and I've been twice! I highly recommend it, and my actions show! And since I didn't get a great Aurora Australis, I plan to go back and try again in the next solar cycle!

I did another fun map for a European vacation I went on with my sister, nephew, and boyfriend. I am admittedly bad at geography, so I think the map was five times as much for me as it was for anyone else, but I think everyone appreciated the visualization a little bit. Since we were doing a Disney cruise as a large part of the trip, I made Mickey ears for all of us with this map on the back of one of the ears, so we had the visual with us at all times (at least on the cruise). 

There had been a lot going on in my life at that time, as I had already interviewed for jobs in Dallas and Panama City, Florida. Knowing I'd be leaving Connecticut one way or another very soon, my parents came to visit shortly before the Europe vacation (my first time in Europe). So I held off on telling the facebook world we were moving until we returned, and were a week away. Hilariously, I used a map for that post also, captioning it with, "We're doing a thing next week." 


My ex- bought me a cool woodcut map of America with bottle cap-sized holes to put beer caps in it, intending to represent the beers from the different regions of the country. It was cool in theory, but in practice, most of my favorite beers were from a the southwest, and I had very few beers from other parts of the country. 

Today, I saw a silly post of a guy who lives in the UK who mapped out the furthest in each direction he had been, creating a little square around his hometown - he has not traveled far beyond Europe. While I was a little sad that he shared how little he's gotten out of that Euro bubble, I did like the idea, and was curious what my map would look like.

While technically the International Date Line should be the boundary of how far one could go west, I considered the direction of my travel. Going to Asia and Australia, I've flown west, not east. Thus, there's a box east of the European countries I've visited and west of the Asian countries which I can say I have not been in, and of course, I haven't been to the poles so there's a section of north and south which I haven't crossed into. 


I mapped the locations where I've lived, including my birthplace (green) and my current home (red), and the places I've visited that are those furthest points in each direction. To the north, the farthest I've gone is Fairbanks, Alaska, which I've gone to twice now, once with family to explore my Dad's birthplace, and once to chase the aurora. Tasmania wins the medal for being as far south as I've been. Going east, it was a close call between Italy and Poland, but Krakow wins (for now).

Of course, I could hardly stop there. I mapped out many of my favorite places I visited, and it is interesting to see those, too. Sort of like those maps with pins in them, except again I have a clustering issue which I think may be represented better with this digital visual. I've been to Japan multiple times, including studying abroad in Hiroshima, and have been to China twice, once for martial arts and once for my MBA, but the furthest west from the US was when I studied kung fu with the warrior monks at the Shaolin Temple in Zhangzou, China - which never gets old in how cool it is to say that. 



I took it just a little bit further, and put dream clouds to represent where I want to go in the near future. Based on this, I can see that my desire to go to Santorini, Greece will push my boundary a little further east from Krakow, Poland, which I visited just this year. 
Additionally, my desire to go to Vietnam and Thailand will push my westward travel point further.  Denmark and obviously the destinations in the continental US won't have any effect on my boundaries. Parts of New Zealand extend further south than my current southern-most point in Tasmania, but my current tentative plans don't include going that far south. I will, someday, try to visit Antarctica, which of course, will be the ultimate southern border push. As far as going further north, I think I'm good - no need to go further north than Fairbanks, although I wouldn't mind returning in another decade to see the Northern Lights again! 











Thursday, October 2, 2025

Better Than Candy: STEM-CenTrick or Treat Alternatives


Being an engineer by training and an engineering manager by trade, I have been aware for decades of the decline in our country's engineering education and pipeline of science and technical talent entering the workforce. Relatedly, I feel compelled, partially because I want to be a leader within my company, and partially because my energy, money and time are not depleted by kids of my own, to advocate for STEM in my local communities and with youth organizations.

I have done this in a number of ways (and feel free to steal any of these ideas):
    • I have been a judge or mentor for robotics and drone competitions for high schoolers.
    • I have supported programs to get girls into programming.
    • I have volunteered at public events to showcase STEM activities
    • When friends who are teachers reach out for help with state-based lessons or postcards, I will try to send the class postcards and other artifacts that are related to my industry, like models of fighter jets or stealth aircraft.

For several years now, I've done one additional, funny and surprisingly gratifying thing - I give out toys along with candy for Halloween. Trick -AND- Treat, one might say. But the toys are somewhat focused on STEM learning. I try to keep them to about $1 per toy or less, but sometimes I will spring for a handful of more expensive items to sprinkle in, with the hope that it may encourage a young person to go into an engineering or related field. 

I have a whole setup to make it easy and less annoying. I set out a comfy camping chair and two side tables on my porch or driveway. I use one table to hold my Halloween bowls with candy in one and the STEM toys in the other. I keep the bags next to me on the ground for easy refilling. On the other table, I set up my tablet and snacks or drinks or whatnot for me. I play my favorite Halloween themed movies on my tablet to keep me entertained between visits, and when the kids, dogs and parents come, I wait for the kids to say their requisite, "Trick or treat," and then I let them know they can take one candy and one toy. I comment on my favorite outfits and answer any questions they might have about the toys. Then I go back to drinking, eating and watching the movies. For someone who doesn't generally "like kids," it's actually quite a delight!

What I look for in my STEM toys is something that kids can learn from. Years ago I found these small solar car kits - those were my favorite! First, you have to build the car from the parts. Once assembled, you had to learn how to use it in the sun. But in the right light, those things took off! And there was no stopping mechanism, so you just had to hope it would find shade to stop. Finding those again, and on the cheap, however, has proved difficult. So I've had to search for alternatives.

Foam gliders are a great alternative - they are inexpensive, flat packed, require assembly and then can teach a thing or two about wind and aerodynamics. I also enjoy holographic glasses which bend light into fun shapes - you can get Halloween themed ones (or Christmas) or other themes.

Slingshot helicopter twirly things are fun, and again, pretty inexpensive.

Somewhat more practical but still a little educational are miniature compasses with or without keychains. Invisible ink pen and notebook sets are usually a hit, and I suppose kids can find an interest in how the chemistry of them works. The kids also get a kick out of jumping popper toys.

I usually throw in little puzzle cubes. I'm not sure those really teach many tangible lessons, but I suppose it helps kids develop spacial rationalization and maybe dynamics principles.

Giving out STEM toys is also a sort of inclusivity measure, since some kids may have allergies or may not be allowed to have much sugar or whatnot. But I doubt there are many parents who would prohibit kids from playing with semi-educational toys.

Though for me, the best part of giving out the STEM toys, is the fact that the kids get REALLY excited about it. It is so unusual to get anything other than candy, I suppose, that the novelty of it causes the initial reaction. "MOM!! I get a TOY!!" is a common exclamation. The parents get a kick out of it, too.

And then watching the kids decide what to select, weighing the pros and cons, asking questions, is also entertaining. Very few of them grab and go, they ponder the possibilities and merits of the toys presented to them. It shows that they are using their brains even in that. And I hope that they use their brains in using the toys once they get home. And maybe some of them will use their brains to work for me building airplanes some day. 

STEM toys are also more practical than candy, since they won't go bad and don't need to be consumed or brought in to work with everyone else's leftover candy. Just stash the remaining inventory for next year and build your pile up from there!

If you want to get some ideas, I recommend two places to start:
Visit Party City or a party supply store, especially in the off-season for Halloween. The clearance section is especially great for budget-friendly options to hoard toys in bulk.
Look on Amazon! I have a list I keep updated with ideas when I think of them or as I prepare for the next Halloween. You can access my list here!
And you can create your own, and share it in the comments for others (and me) to use!






Sunday, July 20, 2025

Creating the Future in the Midst of Complacency

While there are many theories for why the economic and technological slowdowns occurred started in the 1970s and beyond, I would suggest that at least one contributing factor, if not a major cause, is that complacency that comes from a world of abundance and moving higher up Maslov's Pyramid of Needs. We now want for very little, and yet no maladies like "adulting" are cropping up for us to complain about. Americans historically have been driven by a burning need. Exemplified by being short of a collective national enemy in a space race, seeing our space industry has dwindled. The Internet boom and subsequent bubble may have reignited, on a temporary basis at least, that hunger. 

I see this in my job, working for a prime contractor with a golden contract. Most people put in their 40 and defend their personal life, and advocate for their need for flexible work arrangements. Do you think people at NASA in the 1960s were telling their bosses they wanted to work from home two or more days per week? 

Some of that hybrid work entitlement came from the COVID-19 pandemic when companies rallied to provide work from home solutions and holding virtual meetings became the norm instead of an afterthought. And some of that is goodness - the lockdowns of COVID-19 helped people take a step back and consider what was most important to them. But the tainted view of corporate America and the advent of quiet quitting has further limited, if not stalled, our ability to innovate and bring to the world a brighter future. 

There are a lot of factors, to be clear, that I'm brushing over here. Books and books have been written about how the sum of individually well meaning policies have led to a system that is so cumbersome it makes progress next to impossible and further degrades the trust people have in the government and large organizations to maneuver. Sort of a self-defeating flywheel of anti-progress. The book simply title "Abundance" is a good read if you want more specifics and examples of this. 

What I want to write about is that, even with hybrid work arrangements and our basic needs being met, we can still find and harness that fire to drive our innovation. What we need is a new vision - a comprehensive version of the future that both excites us and feels attainable. 

We recently had our annual ethics training at work, and one of the cases we watched included a foreign national using his new smart Reyban sunglasses to record details within a production site that was not authorized for him to see, let alone record. After the ethics training and discussions were over, one of the technicians in the class stayed around to chat and asked his manager about how common those recording sunglasses were. It got he and I both sharing some of the miniaturized and wearable technology that is not only widely available but nearly indistinguishable from normal accessories, such as the fitness tracking ring. This technician, while working on fifth generation aircraft, was unaware of such technologies, and wondered aloud what other technologies exist of which he may not be aware. 

While he may be living under a rock to some extent, his voiced concern is still probably a real one. I think technology is splintering into so many niches that the mainstream may not be aware of even half of what's at the fringes. Historically, I imagine a Radio Shack ad in the newspaper or a product-specific commercial on TV would have informed potentially interested buyers. Now, we pay to remove ads and few people read a physical newspaper, and Radio Shack probably isn't prominently featured even there. So it raises the question, how do people find out about the latest technology if they are not explicitly searching it out? I mean, of course there will still be the technophiles that will subscribe to publications and podcasts from which they can learn about new things. Many tech enthusiasts will either be hobbyists in their fields of interest or will be employed in them. 

Drones, for example, have a ton of followers, hobbyists and professionals, and the lines often blur. But if you're not into that field, you probably don't know much about them other than random headlines about shooting one down from time to time or the sci-fi-to-reality concept of Amazon delivering via drone. For the most part, you're either into drones and know all sorts of cool stuff that's going on, or you're not, and its just a buzzword that crosses your feed from time to time. What if there was something in the drone space that would actually be specifically applicable and helpful to you, but you aren't aware it exists so you're not actively searching for it? 

My partner provides another good case study in this belief of mine. He idly expresses interest in "getting into AI," and while on previous occasions on different topics, he has criticized me for not actively seeking out answers to questions that come up in conversation, he hasn't seemed to pursue this interest despite having said it many times over the course of at least half a year or more. He is even aware that I'm taking an AI certificate coursework program and I've shared with him recommendations on how he could get started with no monetary investment. Of course, it is a huge time investment, so maybe that's what differentiates his criticism of not googling something real quick and his lack of action towards learning AI. 

And having gotten through 5 of the 16 courses in my AI certificate program, I can attest it's not easy. I fortunately had a little prior Python experience, which has helped since it uses Python pretty heavily. But even with my small leg up, I find it daunting and mentally taxing. So to expect people less motivated and engineering-minded as me to "get into AI" or understand how to use it does seem a bit far-fetched in all fairness. Yet, everyone has this heavy sense that it is the future and it is important to understand it. 

I often say that where AI fails the hardest is humor - it cannot make a good joke no matter how you instruct it or how many examples you provide for it to mimic - at least in my experience. It just can't seem to grasp what would be funny to people. To that end, sometimes the creativity is a little too canned. So when people freak out about AI replacing people in the future, I have a hard time seeing it from my informed position. I think monotonous or organized tasks will be taken over by AI, absolutely, but that the entirety of what people do for work will be amended by AI, not replaced entirely. Although I'll caveat this belief that perhaps I'm falling into the "history repeats itself" thinking - people feared tech-driven job loss before and were wrong, so surely it can't happen this time. There are schools of thought that say this time is different. But I'm not convinced. Different, yes, but replacing human work and creativity? Nah, I just don't see it yet. Even if AI is doing the heavy lifting, people have to prompt it, and prompt engineering is now a thing. By the way, that's one no-programming way to get into AI, is to learn how to deliver the best prompts for the best AI results. 

Alright, so let me try to get to my point here soon. In the same way that given too many menu choices at a restaurant (think Cheesecake Factory versus In-n-Out) can lead to decision paralysis, I believe people hearing that "AI can do anything" is too broad a brushstroke to act upon. Instead, parallels and analogies have long been useful in learning and creating in all sorts of ways. So, showing people specific examples of what AI can do can open those brain pathways to wonder if it could do something similar, and growth can happen. Perhaps I'm calling for a crowd-sourced library of use cases, something like what Thingiverse did for 3D printing. I am reminded of one of my favorite quotes from the book "The Long Tail" which says, "It is when the tools of production become transparent that we are inspired to create." Simply saying AI can do anything makes it somehow more opaque, not more transparent. We need to carve in-roads into specific use cases from which people can build and splinter off into increasingly more branches. 

To start, though, since I am not prepared to build and market a crowd-sourced library, I want to provide some specific use cases as part of a comprehensive model for a futurist, technology-driven life that is both cheaper and less burdensome and also more fulfilling. 

One such element I've been noodling on gets its roots from a cool gadget I installed in my Palmdale house. My boyfriend at the time was a stickler for having curtains closed at night, even in the back of the house, or maybe especially in the back of the house, because he was worried about ill-intended people being able to see in at us, illuminate by the TV and whatever lights were on, while they could go undetected in the dark. So he would close the curtains every night. But I love the sunshine and loved the view of my pool and the backyard with its palm trees and golf course views beyond. Being a morning person, I'd wake up long before him and would open the curtains back up every morning. 

At the risk of sounding like too much of a first world princess, I am going to admit that this little task annoyed me. For one, I had to climb onto my couch to reach one or two of them, and stretching would sometimes irritate my scoliosis just a touch. Sure, it's only a minute or two of effort. But a 1 minute task every day for let's say a healthy 70 years of adulthood equates to over 425 hours or 17 days of effort. And this is just one task. Everyone has 24 hours in a day, so if you fill your day up with meaningless tasks, what we call "adulting" or even less significant activities could consume a majority of your waking hours. My obsession with optimizing and automating even the most slight of activities probably is what drew me into Industrial Engineering, the father of which was known to time himself buttoning his short from the bottom and from the top to see which was faster. 

So my first proposal in this new framework vision includes implementing the Smart blinds I installed in my Palmdale house. At the push of a button or two on my phone, or with a voice command through the Alexa speaker, I was able to have the curtains opened for me while I moved onto other tasks like making my breakfast. I enhanced the automation further by setting them on a timer through the Alexa app, so they would close at sunset and open and sunrise. I never got around to installing them in my bedroom, and I'm sure while he was still there he wouldn't have appreciated it, but I also envisioned waking up to the sun pouring into my room as the curtains opened at a preset time, like an alarm clock but (hopefully) less irritating. 

But I want to take it even further. Cooling the house in the hot, humid summers of Texas, taxes my AC system and sometimes seems like a struggle even when its running endlessly for hours. I fully recognize that having my windows open all the time as I do right now means I'm letting sun in even when I'm not in that room or at home at all to appreciate it. So, borrowing from a concept Bill Gates introduced in a CD-ROM video from his book "The Road Ahead", I envision sensors of some sort that know when you're home and/or utilizing a specific room, to have the blinds opened when you're in there or expected to be in there, but to close them when the sun is pouring in during the summer and the views are not being seen. It's not just that I want them open when the sun is up, or just shut when I'm not in there, I want the house to optimize for efficiency and my enjoyment. Keep the house cool while maximizing my view of the outdoors. In the winter, then, it would open the blinds all the time during the day because the sunlight will help warm the house. And if it's raining, why not give me the views so I can enjoy the lightning and see whatever critters might be out and about in it (it is fascinating the diversity of wildlife in my suburban backyard, even during a rainstorm). 

Going further still, could we put something on the outside of the windows to shield the sun from even coming in and hitting the curtains? Certainly, this would be more efficient from a cooling perspective. If I do end up building in Florida, can these be sturdy, automated hurricane shutters that can enclose my house quickly and safely in the case of a storm, even if I'm traveling and away from home. 

My brother-in-law is an architect and one of the things he introduced to me is how he angled his exterior roofline and window coverings to maximize shade in the summer but minimize it in the winter. He also built his windows for a cross-breeze that would enable natural cooling during certain times of the year. Integrating the technology and AI-enabled optimization of the technology with the architecture is a really intriguing marriage of new and old ideas that ultimately increases comfort and reduces energy expenditures. 

This is the stuff that excites me. Superficially (although not so, in my mind), it makes life a little bit easier. In case of emergencies (like hurricanes) or even if a potential burglar is spotted, it could rapidly increase security. It will make living just a little cheaper in the long run. All of that is goodness, but the daily bit of a joy I think is actually the best part for me. Does it excite you? What ideas are you dreaming up that could be empowered by technology, automation and AI? 



Saturday, July 12, 2025

Hawaii Mauka: Our 2025 Hawaiian Adventure - Part 2

As is my way, I insisted we get to the meeting point for the stargazing tour early. It was in the Target parking lot and we figured there'd be food places we could grab lunch nearby. That proved to be partially true - they were a bit further away than I wanted to walk. But Target has Pizza Hut inside, so I sort of insisted we just grab the Pizza Hot. Interestingly, they advertised a Spam pizza which I totally would have tried if they had it, but they did not, so I got pepperoni and Sam got cheese, of course. Then we waited outside for much longer than I expected, and Sam was definitely frustrated with my early arrival, but he didn't press it too much. 

The best thing ever (haha) happened when we finally saw the tour van and approached to check in. Our tour guide, James, gave Sam the most hesitant, awkward hug ever. He hugged me too, but since I was prepared for it, I went straight in for it. I adored our tour guide, he was super knowledgeable and would repeat important things at varying intervals, which you can tell he probably learned he had to do after dozens of tours in which people are only half paying attention. We a Japanese couple with us also who apparently didn't speak English, so James did his best to point things out in Japanese, but it was very apparent to me that he only knew so much of the language. Still, he did such a great job managing the crazy group and ensuring the Japanese couple were included. 

The timeline was strange to me - leaving at 2:45 for a sunset and stargazing tour, but as we made our way up the mountain, it made more sense. It was quite a trek up there, and it was raining most of the trip, but James assured us the weather should be good and clear on top of the mountain. We literally drove through and then above the clouds! Sure enough, blue skies all around us, the only clouds were down below! 

We stopped and spent 30 minutes at the visitor center which is at 9,200 feet so we could acclimate. We also ate there; I had ordered vegetarian sandwiches for Sam and I so as not to risk him getting pig products, and they were actually pretty good. Look at me eating vegetarian! The elevation was already getting to me, I could tell, although not too bad, so I just took it easy and let Sam know how I was feeling. He was very caring for me. 

We then continued up the mountain and visited several telescopes, all the while James was explaining how they are managed and sharing both the culturalists who oppose them and the supporting efforts. Walking around closer to 13,000 feet was only slightly worse for me, but it was still so slight that I think the acclimating had done its job. Sam also noticed it, not the whole time, but when he tried exerting himself up a hill, he said he got winded much more than usual and was surprised and intrigued by that experience. I was comparing it to being at the top of Pike's Peak in Colorado, over 14,000 feet, when I felt like absolute jelly and the potential for nausea was much more prevalent. But since we took a train straight up there, we didn't have the same acclimation, so I attributed feeling better to that. 

As the sun dropped in the sky, James took some really amazing and unique photos of us. We watched the sunset from that location, very near the peak, and then boarded the van to drive down a little ways for the ideal stargazing spot. 

I set up my tripod and starting taking pictures while the other tour guide set up a telescope and let people peer through it for various planets and stars. I continued to take long exposure photos while James led an astronomy lecture using his laser pointer to point at things in the sky. His counterpart did the same in Japanese. We learned that the Southern Cross, usually only visible in the southern hemisphere, was actually visible, albeit low on the horizon, for about two months in Hawaii. This was really impactful to Sam. 

Apparently I had set up so in exactly the spot where James wanted to set up. He was actually willing to find a new spot, which I thought was so kind and a little ridiculous of him (haha) - who am I? Just a person on his tour. Once my long exposure completed, I gave him the spot and set up elsewhere. His photos, of course, were so amazing. We even got a couple pictures pointing to the Southern Cross. It became sort of an underlying theme of the trip - aspects of the southern hemisphere coming north to Hawaii. Sam, of course, being the main one. 

After all that wrapped up, we packed back into the vans and wound our way down the mountain. James kindly dropped us off at our hotel, and we got a final hug each, less awkward. 

After taking an early phone call for work on the balcony, we packed up and headed to the airport to transport to the last island together: Maui! Finally, I'd see if Haleakala could redeem itself, although the Mauna Kea tour on the Big Island had already surpassed my hopes for stargazing on this trip. 


We landed and got the rental car and still had a couple hours before we could check into the AirBnB, so we went in search of a late lunch / early dinner. I was hoping to go to the ramen place I had taken my parents so, Tampopo, but it said it was temporarily closed. As we drove, though, I remembered I also really liked Black Rock Pizza, and Sam was agreeable to go there, so we had pizza for a second day, albeit much better than Pizza Hut Express at Target. 


Since we were on the fourth floor, I was very glad to see there was an elevator. We got settled in and took in the view from the balcony. I could not get over it; it was absolutely beautiful! We took it easy that first night, and I used my tripod on the balcony and took some decent shots of the night sky even from there!

 

I started the next day with leftover pizza for breakfast on the balcony - can life get any better? We went for a swim at the nearby sandy beach and watched sea turtles coming up to our beach from the balcony. Then we made preparations to bundle up for the cold and made our way up the mountain. It was another long drive, and I remembered all those twists and turns from having driven it twice a year and a half prior. But it was worth it!

 

After a little confusion in the absolute dark of where to go to get to the top, we found the staircase and brought our things up the short climb to the pavilion. When I was there last, the pavilion was under construction and was off limits to us. This time, it was open and we could use it to warm up a little and mostly get relief from the wind. Sam had found a Thermos and brought tea up with us so we could have a hot beverage to help warm us up.

 

We were so completely alone up there and it was just breathtaking. I couldn't believe the summit wasn't shoulder to shoulder with locals and tourists wanting to take in this incredible view! But, I wasn't complaining… Sam put on the classical music of "Jupiter" while we worked on mastering the art of taking pictures with the other in the foreground while still taking in enough darkness to get the stars in the background.
The photos were great, for sure, but even what we could see with the naked eye was so impressive. My mission to see the Milky Way had finally come to fruition in the grandest of ways!

 

And it was really special to share that with Sam. He told me later, after he got back to work, that he showed his teammates and they were barely interested. His adopted enthusiasm for my passion is one of the things I really like about him.

 

He had agreed to relieve me of driving down the mountain, but being a left-side driver normally, his tendency to lean towards the right edge of the road had me nervous, so I'm not sure if it was better or worse than me just driving myself. Either way, we made it.

 

The following day, with nothing scheduled, it was a good day to have some solo time. First we walked to the local pizza place for lunch and got some leftovers. I did a little shopping there for a Hawaiian dress/jumpsuit, and we walked back. Then he took the car to do some shopping while I stayed at the AirBnB to work on some coursework. We called it a night early so we could get up early to drive the road to Kona the next day!

 

I wasn't sure what to expect with the Road to Kona. I had been under the impression people joked that they "survived" it because the street vendors were shady, or something like that. Actually, they seemed lovely, and I guess the "survival" part comes from all the beautifully scenic one-land bridges and the twists and turns. I was impressed how the lush greenery changed throughout the drive - it wasn't the same for hundreds of miles, it changed and if you blinked, you'd miss it. There were waterfalls visible from the road, especially near the bridges, and there were cliffsides and ocean views. We had packed leftover pizza for lunch so we stopped at a beach in Kona and picnicked at a table facing the water. Some very brave cardinals approached to beg for food. Sam took a quick walk while I relaxed.

Then we headed back, stopping a bit more, now that we knew what the road was all about. We pulled over for some waterfall pictures, and stopped at a vendor for a macadamia nut cookie, a Hawaiian drink and a souvenir magnet commemorating survival of the road. Actually, since Sam was driving on the way back, I was commemorating surviving his driving.

 

I had booked dinner reservations at Mama's Fish House months prior, and tonight was the night! We arrived to the northern town of Paia a little early, so we walked around the downtown shops and then headed over to the restaurant. We were afforded some gorgeous views and took the opportunity to grab some more beach pictures while Sam was all gussied up.

 

Dinner at Mama's was absolutely amazing. We had a stunning view of the beach, and all the food was so good. Adding to our theme of the southern hemisphere coming north, Sam ordered an Antarctic Toothfish. I ordered a port wine with our dessert, which Sam was intrigued with and enjoyed.

 

As the sun set, we left our table and walked down to the beach and got some great pictures with a gorgeously colored sky behind us. Further towards the water, we saw a sea turtle, and got to watch as he made his way back into the water.

 

It was a perfect capstone to an absolutely wonderful vacation. I dropped Sam off at the airport the next morning. He'd spend one more night back on Oahu before flying home, while I spent the night and majority of the following day still in Maui. During the day, I drove up towards Laihaina and explored a public beach by the resorts there. Sam recommended I keep my record going and have pizza yet again. "Pizza everyday!" Then I did some more shopping in Kihei before heading to the airport a little early - only to have to wait to check my bag because I was too early. I'm sure Sam loves that!

 

No matter, I couldn't have asked for more on this trip. Sure, there are other Hawaiian and touristy experiences we could have done, but since my primary mission had been to go to the top of the mountain(s) and see the stars, it surpassed all my expectations. Everything else - the luau, swimming with manta rays, even just the regular beach swims, stunning sunsets and other land-based tours - were just the cherries on top! I feel truly blessed and am so glad I got to experience all of this!


The Devil Within

Yesterday Sam and I had another conversation about our relationship status - a sort of "check in" on where his head is at in regards to living with me in the future. Happy birthday to me, I guess. His focus is still on his "independence" mostly, but also highlighting the huge change it would be to presumably move to America and live with a partner, and also the risk if things don't work out, as if he'd be left in the cold. 

And here's the thing about Sam is that I truly believe what he says, although his attempts at jokes sometimes send me spiraling back into my insecurities. But when he is thoughtful and deliberate, I think he is honest. Yet there are lots of things that puzzle me about him and what he says, how he perceives himself and how he perceives me. I haven't been able to pinpoint something that's clearly and obviously bad, yet I am still unnerved by these conversations and my interactions with him. 

My most recent hypothesis is that he actually is blind to the dark side of himself. So when he is speaking thoughtfully, I think he is telling the truth as he understands it. But he hasn't done the introspection to understand and realize the source of my concerns with him. 

Take this "independence" thing, which he promotes as his biggest barrier to us living together. I don't think he really knows what that means - rather, I think it's a wall he is subconciously hiding behind. Afterall, he currently lives with his sister in a house owned by his parents, who visit frequently and for long periods. So it's not like he lives alone and is worried about having to share a space. And he complains about what he has to do for work, like when he has to go into the office, even though it's only two days a week. Yet I've had on the table for a while that I would cover him financially if he lived with me, so he would have more independence in that regard. 

He promotes his "positivity" but he's very negative about the risks and the challenge of moving in together. While I try not to diminish the huge change it would be for him, I look forward to the steady state of us being together with great optimism. I see such great potential in us having a better relationship - he can use his brain more and we can enjoy more things together more often and my need for physical affection wouldn't be so intense. It just seems like the obvious, better solution than what we are doing now. But he says he's happy with the way things are. So I think his positivity is different than my optimism in that I look towards a positive future whereas he revels in the instant gratification. Change is hard, but what we have is great right now, so why do the hard thing? 

I think he does this with a lot of aspects of our relationship. We had a somewhat teasing conversation about "who's the boss" in our relationship and he said I'm the financial boss because I finance our trips. But I pointed out that he dictates when I can touch him and kiss him, and he has to have his tea and he has to have things his certain way in our day-to-day vacation schedule. He sees himself as laid back and doesn't seem to recognize how bossy and insistent he is to get his way. 

It reminds me of the analogy he made a while back about cat owners and dog owners. He said being a cat owner teaches you consent because cats won't call just because they're called, they have to decide to come to you. He made it sound like clearly cat owners are the superior beings because it's easy to be a dog owner. Yet when I thought about it, it seemed like I'm the "cat owner" then because I have to have his permission to touch and kiss him and he dictates when we do different things. He acts more like the "dog owner" in our relationship because we do everything on his schedule when he decides. 

I think he does this also with how accusatory and judgmental he is with me. I don't think he intends to come off that way, it's a part of him that's buried in his subconscious. Because he also talks about how intuitive he is and I've seen that part of him in action, yet he doesn't like or understand little things about me a lot. It's like he intuits something's there but he doesn't know how to address it in a way that is understanding. 

I did think it was positive when we talked briefly in Hawaii, that he said if we end up not having any more trips this year, that would be okay because he knows he owes me an answer. But when he confronted me directly about it on our call yesterday, I was honest that yeah, part of the reason I haven't planned anything else with him is that I don't want to keep investing in this relationship that may never be what I need it to be. And then he immediately made a joke, I guess along the theme of "who's the boss", that I was going to "cut him off" if he didn't move in with me. And that went over like a lead balloon. 

I think this is one of my struggles is that he says things lightheartedly because he thinks its funny and when I pin him down about it, he will insist he meant nothing by it. But I believe that every joke, even if made with intentions rooted in jest, still has some truth in it for the person saying it. And to me, its an insight into how people think. So when I later told him that upset me, he blamed his lack of being in the right state of mind and sort of blew it off as a continuation of the boss joke and nothing serious. But it's precisely things like that which play on my insecurities and make me think he's just playing the game with me to milk me for more vacations and fun events. He did apologize and say he didn't mean it. And again, I feel like I can believe him when he says things, so it's all I can do to accept his apology and take him at his word that he didn't mean it. But those insecurities still exist. 

On a positive note, with me coming back to Australia for work, he has been open and willing to let me come visit and stay with him which, for him, is a huge step. I think he realized how much it hurt that I wasn't allowed to participate in any of his home life while I was there last time, and without me having to say what I played out in my head for my next trip to Sydney - that I wouldn't be coming to Sydney and not seeing his home again - he opened that proverbial door.  We share a concern about how I will react to the cats, so the visit may have to be cut short, but at least I will get to see how and where he lives, which is really important to me to understand and see him better. And if I end up choosing to go to a hotel because of my allergies, then that's not on him. 

Sunday, June 29, 2025

Hawaii Makai: Our 2025 Hawaiian Adventure - Part 1

I've been attempting to see the spectacular Milky Way one sees in photos since at least 2021, when I first ventured to Yosemite in hopes to catch a glimpse. I was stunned at how underwhelming the view was from where I first stayed just outside the park. Figuring it was a combination of overcast skies and being too into the city, I unintentionally began a quest to see it and capture a view.

As frustration gave way to despair, I started to learn more and more that the dazzling photographs are not accurate representations of what one can see with the naked eye. Still, I felt certain I could do better. I tried again at Bryce Canyon, to absolutely no avail. 

It started to get to a point where it felt like some sort of curse. I would set myself up for ideal conditions, or at least the best you can plan for since there are always factors within nature that can change and impact the results. The more I failed to see anything close to resembling the Milky Way, the more determined I became. 

As I planned a Christmas in the Sand vacation for my family on the Hawaiian island of Maui, I stumbled upon an astrophotography experience in which a photographer would take people up to the summit of Haleakala and take portraits with a brilliant Milky Way background. I perused her photos and they were good. Amazing, even. So I coordinated with her to go the very first night I would be in Hawaii to be as close in time to the New Moon as possible. We went up, and she shared a lot of history of the Polynesians using the stars to navigate and Hawaiian names of the stars and constellations. She served me hot chocolate. We had a great, lengthy conversation. 

But no stars. Barely even single digits when we started and it got worse the longer we sat there, shivering against the cold despite being a little bundled up. She kept apologizing profusely and explaining how she had never seen it this dark. We technically should have been above most clouds, at over 10,000 feet, and she'd done this dozens of times before with great success. She suggested if I had another free night or if I came back to the island at a later date, she'd take me up again to try the photoshoot free of charge. She apologized again and again, seemingly embarrassed that Hawaii was treating me so badly. I assured her it was me. The Milky Way was officially alluding me. 

I dove into camping at dark sky sites using light pollution maps and timing my trips with New Moons. I returned to Yosemite and stayed in the park, hoping that would make a sufficient improvement. I learned a long the way that a tripod was an absolute requirement and longer exposures would let more light into my camera. I considered, and still am considering, buying an actual real camera and learning how to use it, but two things are working against that initiative: (1) It seems complex and yet not piquing my interest enough for me to invest my time and energy into learning it, and (2) my Google Pixel phones shoot really good pictures actually. 

I proved this out on my side quest seeking the Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights. With the aurora in a multi-year peak, it felt somewhat urgent to get somewhere to try to see it, so I booked a crazy trip to Fairbanks, Alaska which I felt was doomed to failure and catastrophe. With only a couple full nights to there, after I saw absolutely nothing the first night, I opted to book the aurora tour for the second night. While it wasn't anything close to the most dazzling aurora, it was a great success, and my Pixel camera phone on a tripod with a long exposure managed to capture some amazing photos and videos with plenty of shapes and colors and even some meteors. 

I will also admit, begrudgingly, that I had some success my second time camping in my new home state of Texas. My first attempt, Copper Breaks, was pretty much a bust, and very underwhelming views and hiking by day, as well. But Big Bend put on a good show. I didn't realize until the morning just how close I was to the Mexican border - my tent couldn't have been 15 feet from the river that forms the border between the US and Mexico! When I comically spotted a coyote, followed by a roadrunner, leave my campsite and head in that direction, it occurred to me that was a Mexican coyote and roadrunner. But I digress. I did manage to capture some decent pictures that night camping in the park, as well as the following night when I stayed in a "space dome" near by. 


Still, Maui remained on my mind. Since meeting Sam, we have both happily gravitated towards beachy vacations and Hawaii is a rather convenient midway point between Sydney and Dallas. So, when I started formulating a return trip to Maui, Sam was all in - with the additional request that we also go to the Big Island to swim with manta rays. Since I've swam with sea turtles and dolphins and snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef, this seemed like a perfectly logical adventure to amend my blessed life experiences. But going to the Big Island also afforded a second opportunity for stargazing, too! He also wanted to go to the luau and fireworks show at the Hilton on Oahu. This was shaping up to be quite a trip! 

We've found that our trips tend to have themes and running jokes throughout them, and rarely are they repeated the next time we get together. This trip seemed to be themed, one for you and one for me. Especially the day we had nothing specific planned on the Big Island. He realized we'd be near the home of Kona coffee and found a place to do a tour. As we found our gate at the airport prior to flying to the Big Island, a bar reminded me that Kona beer would likewise be in that same area. So a coffee tour for him, and a beer tour for me! 

Unfortunately, the manta ray excursion, while absolutely amazing and I'd highly recommend it, stirred up my old motion sickness and I ended up getting sick in the water. Thankfully, not much clean up, and I got dizziness under control before boarding. Still, I wasn't feeling 100% for the remainder of that night and into the next morning. So I wasn't sure about the beer tour, but we did go to the Kona coffee place and then went to Kona Brewing Co for lunch and a couple tastes. 

But, let me give the manta ray experience the full description it deserves. It was very well done, to start. The guides gave us clear instructions and told us what to expect to minimize panicking or concerns in the water. The $40 Go Pro rental, while relatively steep compared to just buying one, was actually well worth it to me because of how simple they made it to use for this specific purpose. Sam really seemed to enjoy using it to capture the magnificent sight, while I was content in enjoying the experience, thinking the videos would never really do it justice anyways. Actually the videos were great, and I sort of wish we had done more "selfie" type video, but that's such a minor point compared to the experience. 

As we boarded, we were given optional wet suit tops to keep us warm in the water, floating services and snorkels, all of which I declined because I had my own dry snorkel with me and didn't want the other two. I was glad Sam got a wetsuit top because he gets cold easily and towards the end of our swim he was getting cold anyways, he would have been much more miserable faster had he not had that. 

I generally love being on boats, and especially faster moving ones which don't foster that subtle rocking sensation that more often triggers my motion sickness. This boat was fairly sizeable but still quite quick, as we made our way out to one of two places in the world (both being in the waters around Hawaii) where the giant manta ray come to feed at night. 

By supplying a large float lit from underneath, plankton are attracted to the float and thus the manta rays would come right up to us with their mouths wide open - it would be terrifying if we weren't previously warned and reassured they only eat little plankton, and then do a back flip inches from our faces. We merely needed to hang onto the lit raft and stretch our feet backwards to keep them on the pool noodles we were supplied. Sometimes they'd swim by and their lengthy pectoral fins ("wings") would bump our shoulders, or even stomachs. And they were huge! Most we saw, I'd estimate to be 5 to 8 feet wide! We were told they could be even bigger out there! And there were dozens of them! It would have been tricky to try to count unique ones since they swam far and wide (and deep) but it was easy to see 4 to 6 at a time unless your view was being blocked by a ray passerby an inch away as they did frequently. 

After our swim was complete (and I stopped vomiting my Thai chicken into the ocean), the boat had a centralized hot shower we could rinse off in and use to warm up a bit. Not going to lie, it felt glorious! 

Upon returning to shore, we exchanged the rented Go Pro for the micro SD card we had used and that meant we got to see the videos on my laptop that night when we got back to the hotel! They were pretty neat, actually, and did a decent job of capturing the awe-inspiring chaos as the rays swam up towards us from down below while others surprised us by coming in close from the side and blocking our view of the multitudes below with their graceful passbys. 

Before I go on to talk about the highlight, err, most elevated (haha) experiences, let me back up even further and talk about arriving in Waikiki. Because lining up flights from Sydney and from DFW continues to be challenging, we opted for me to get there the day before on this trip, so I arrived Thursday afternoon on June 19th. I checked into the Hilton Hawaiian Village and although I was exhausted and could have easily just collapsed onto the bed to go to sleep, I pushed myself to get ready to go to the place I've previously called my happiest place on Earth - House Without a Key. I had discovered it over a decade ago on my second trip to Hawaii with the ex's family.

What I love about it is that it is situated over the beach but on a dock so there is no sand in sight, but the water is right there. The deck affords beautiful views of Diamond Head, but the umbrellas provide ample shade without blocking the stunning colors of sunset. A live Hawaiian band serenades guests as a hula dancer graces the stage with her mesmerizing accompanying movements. The food is terrific, and the drinks are fruity and strong. There seems to be a story behind much of the menu, and the wait staff is phenomenal. And if you have to go to the restroom during your stay, you'll be treated to Toto bidet washlets like I have come to love in my own home (I sometimes joke that the worst part of traveling is that I miss my bidets). In fact, even if you don't need to use the restroom, if you've never tried that kind of bidet, I'd recommend detouring to the restroom to check it out. I was so comfortable with it that I forgot it wasn't mine and instinctually hit the User 1 setting button before remembering that this was not my toilet and therefore had not been programmed for my tastes. I would have to manually set my temperature and pressure settings. Gasp! Still, it was a nice surprise that just adds to why I love this Waikiki establishment. 

I walked nearly a mile and arrived exhausted and hangry, and was unsure if it would stand up to that lofty title of being my happiest place on Earth, but after a mai tai, terrific rolls and butter (what WAS that?) and some pizza, I can say it is definitely worthy of the title I've bestowed on it. While I sometimes mix up the name (Room without a Lock? Place without a Door?) the experience was perfection, nearly 11 years later! 

After two drinks there, stumbling back to my hotel was a little rough, but I made it successfully and even remembered to stop at the ABC store to get distilled water for my CPAP machine. And then I crashed hard! 

Recalling a pastry shop I had spotted while checking in, I decided to wander for a little bit and see what shops and restaurants were in the area, but determined that the pastry shop sounded the best to me for breakfast, so I headed to Chee Hoo Patisserie which already made me giggle a little. I learned what a fougasse was - and to no surprise, discovered it was also delicious - and got a crookie - a soft, buttery chocolate chip cookie wrapped in a croissant crust. I ate most of the very carb-loaded fougasse and instead of discarding the mini pizza box it came in, I used that as a sand-proof platform for my things on the beach while I went for my first ocean swim this trip. Genius, I tell you! The water was wonderful, and after locating a sandbar which would likely have fish, I went back to my things to retrieve my goggles and went for a little snorkel. I was rewarded with a number of fish sightings including spotted tobies. 

I knew Sam would be landing soon but it would still take him time to get through customs and then make his way to the hotel, and that he may not be able to get on a wifi to message me before then. So trying to keep from rushing out of excitement, I headed back to my room and showered and then enjoyed the second part of my breakfast - the crookie, on the balcony with a gorgeous view and awaited a message. When it got closer to his anticipated arrival time and I still hadn't gotten a message, I decided to relocate into the room so I could hear him knock in case he came straight there. He did, indeed, and I jumped up, now allowing myself to get excited. After letting him settle in for a few, we spent a few minutes taking in the view on the balcony and got the first of many selfies, and this one ended up being one of my favorites. He needed a nap and wasn't hungry yet, so I left
him to snooze while I grabbed a burger at the bar downstairs and watched All Space Considered on my tablet. 

We went for a short stroll down the beach and then donned my aircraft-themed Hawaiian shirts for the first big event - the luau! Since Sam doesn't eat pig products, I knew his selections would be limited, but actually there was plenty for both of us to eat, buffet style. We had great seats and enjoyed the show, of course. Sam even got a little video of my dancing at the end of the audience-participation hula lesson. We had tickets for four drinks each which was of course way too much, but we redeemed two during the dinner and show and then redeemed the last two as it wrapped up, and enjoyed them while watching the fireworks from the lawn. We called it a night after that. 

We got up early the next morning to go for a swim before we had to pack up and bounce to our next island. It seemed really quick, but our big adventures awaited us on other islands and Sydney flights really only go in and out of Honolulu, so it's not like Sam could have bypassed that island anyways. 

I had a migraine, perhaps related to the extra drinking at the luau, so we mostly took it easy in Kona and went to a nearby Thai restaurant for dinner in hopes the spice would kick the migraine. It did not, and I was feeling really unwell, but knew it wasn't contagious and felt I could push through for the manta ray swim that evening. 

Alright, so we're all caught up now, as I've previously shared the exquisite manta ray experience. The following day, I was still a little wooshy feeling, but staying in bed or in the room didn't seem like it would improve anything. Since we had left space in the itinerary for a backup time in case the manta ray excursion got rained out, we had nothing officially on the itinerary. 

So we caught an uber - well almost - to the Rising Kona Coffee Farm tour, which was much less commercial and much more startup than I expected. They had only been running the tour for three months, in fact! The tour guide was both passionate and hyped up on caffeine, but also gave laid back beach bro vibes. It ended up being a private tour for just Sam and I, and the main part of the tour included a demonstration of brewing the coffee in front of us, with tips and whatnot that would be helpful if you liked that sort of thing. 

I say we caught an uber almost, because there was a bit of confusion on where we were going and it required a gate code and we had no idea if we were at the right gate and all that, but it ended up getting us there. But to avoid similar confusion, we opted to walk down the hill to outside the gate before calling a ride. That afforded a lovely walk in the beauty of the hilly Kona neighborhood and while waiting for our uber at the bottom of the hill, Sam found a friendly outdoor cat who plopped down and accepted all the scratches Sam could give. While I think cats are quite cute, I am very allergic and didn't want to risk adding any complication to my recovering migraine / motion sickness malady. So instead I photographed the love affair between Sam and the cat we later nicknamed Jollity. 

The uber got us to Kona Brewing Co., where we sat down for a great lunch and I had two small beers to try some of the local draughts. Everything was delicious, naturally, but we decided we didn't need to do the brewery tour. Instead, I loaded us up on merch, including a beanie for Sam because he's perpetually cold, and a shirt and pint glass for me. I was about to call an uber to take us back to our hotel when I realized we were less than a mile away, so we opted to walk it and continue taking in the fresh Hawaiian air. Back at the hotel, I opted for a rest while Sam did his speedwalk. We walked to the Cheeky Tiki for dinner, which featured, hilariously, pendant lamps designed to look like monkeys were hanging off of them, Jungle Cruise style. 

The following day was the first big stargazing event - leaving at the seemingly absurd time of 2:45 pm. Sam slept in while I went for a walk and a swim in the little harbor our hotel sat on. I used my snorkel to check out the rocks a little further out from the shore, and was again rewarded with an amazing assortment and quantity of tropical fish! 


Continued here: Hawaii Mauka: Our 2025 Hawaiian Adventure - Part 2 





Friday, June 6, 2025

D-Day: My Papa's Story

Originally published as:

Hess, Bill. "Ranger got sneak peek of what Allies faced on D-Day" Huachuca Herald, June 10 2001
 
 
 ___________________________________________________________________
 

SUNDAY JUNE 10, 2001

Ranger got sneak peek of what Allies faced on D-Day

THIS IS the third story in the Herald/Review's "Stories of Freedom's Fight" series. Look for a story every Sunday through Veterans Day.

BY BILL HESS
HERALD/REVIEW



Ranger. 

Normandy.

D-Day.

Put the three together and you have a one-day personal history of Harry Wilder. 

The landing on Omaha Beach on June 6, [1944], was the culmination of months of intense training for what German Field Marshal Erwin Rommel would call "the longest day." But Wilder had landed in France before. He "visited" a few times before D-Day to find ways to eliminate Hitler's Festung Europa - Fortress Europe.

Because of his good night vision, Wilder and some other Americans went on reconnaissance missions with British commandos to gather information about German defenses in Normandy, along what was called the Atlantic Wall. Amid the combination of gun emplacements, trenches for infantry and mine fields, they sought chinks in the German defense. The reconnaissance missions found those weak links, along with the Nazi's strong points.

The missions "were very hush, hush," he said.

During one mission, Wilder decided he wanted a souvenir, so he took the name plate off of one of the German coastal guns.

The missions were short up - to four hours - and dangerous. There was a constant concern about being seen during the late night and early morning reconnaissance.

One time a group Wilder was with found themselves under the noses of German sentries. "I was right underneath them, all they had to do was look down."

The information gathered by the different reconnaissance missions helped the Normandy invasion planners.

[Continuing the story:]  RANGER: Wilder scaled cliffs on Omaha Beach, where American forces faced battle-ready Nazis

The planners, especially the British, knew the difficulties involved in defending a beachhead from the Germans after having suffered at Dunkirk in France in 1940. Then in the early days of the war, an overpowering German attack force had pushed soldiers from England, France and Belgium into a small corner in France. Nearly 340,000 of the Allied soldiers eventually were taken off the Dunkirk beaches at the [loss] of 200 ships. They left behind 2,000 guns, untold thousands of vehicles and nearly 700,000 tons of fuel, ammunition and other supplies when the rescue was ended on June 4, 1940 - the same day originally chosen for forces to return to France four years later.

D-Day planners also remembered the ill-fated raid on Dieppe in France on Aug. 19, 1942, when nearly 6,200 soldiers - mostly Canadians - with 1,000 British soldiers, 50 American Rangers and a few Free French soldiers attacked German positions. The 12-hour battle left 3,000 men either dead or captured.

While Wilder was a person who helped gather information, he said he was just one of the grunts - a technical sergeant in the 2nd Ranger Battalion.

He [re]calls his recruitment to become a Ranger was a little strange. "A big captain with a basketball" looked for some soldiers to become Rangers, Wilder remembered of a day in the states in 1942.

He and the other potential Rangers were in full combat gear when the captain threw the basketball at them individually and told them to dribble the ball down to a tree, go around it and come back.

Those who satisfied the dribble requirement were chosen to display more soldierly skills, such as firing a rifle.

"I shot very well for him," Wilder said.

Then began real Ranger training, which eventually led Wilder to England with the 2nd Ranger Battalion.

It was a big step for Wilder, who enlisted in the National Guard in 1939 and transferred to the regular Army before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

There was a lot of hard training in England, even more difficult than what he and others experienced in the United States, to prepare the battalion for D-Day.

With the build up of material to support the Allied invasion of the European mainland, the island nation of Great Britain became a floating arsenal.

More than 2 million tons of war items, 50,000 vehicles ranging from tanks to trucks, and more than 160 newly-constructed airfields were scattered throughout Great Britain for that fateful day - June 6, 1944.

Wilder was just one of the estimated 1.7 million American military men and women on the island - from those flying combat missions to those training for the invasion.

Members of the 2nd Ranger Battalion had a couple of cliff areas they were to take on D-Day. Wilder was assigned to Pointe de la Percée, which was to be secured to protect the right flank of the American landings on Omaha Beach.


"We were to take the high ground."

Easier said then done, it turned out.

The initial invasion set for June 4 was canceled by weather and the landing forces, already at [sic] in the English Channel, "did a 180." Less than a day later the forces were in the English Channel heading once again for Normandy.

Wilder said the Germans were not as unprepared as people today think. While it is true most of the German high command thought the main invasion would come at Calais area, where the channel was the narrowest.

German defenses at Omaha Beach responded quickly once the landings began, he said.

"They were ready for us."

He was on one of the more than 2,700 ships - from battleships to transports - along with more than 2,500 landing craft that brought American, British, Canadian, Free French and other Allied forces across the channel as planes filled the sky over the invasion force. One of the ships was the USS Nevada, battered when the Japanese at-tacked Pearl Harbor in Hawaii on Dec. 7, 1941. Repaired, the modernized battleship lobbed shells at the German defenses in Normandy as part of the largest armada the world has ever known.

More than 20,000 American and British paratroopers, as well as glider troops, were dropped into Normandy the night before the D-Day invasion to cut off routes Germans could use to rush to the beaches.

During Operation Overlord, as the Allied invasion was called, the Americans landed at Omaha and Utah beaches, while British and other forces went ashore at Sword, Juno and Gold beaches east of the U.S. positions.

There were periods of confusion, especially since some of the landings were off mark, Wilder said. Looking back, he said it wasn't that unusual because of the large force coming ashore in Normandy.

By time the day ended 155,000 Allied troops were ashore at the various beachheads in Normandy.

The landing at Omaha Beach was the bloodiest, with more than 2,500 of the 34,000 who came ashore there listed as casualties.

The situation was so bad that Gen. Omar Bradley briefly considered evacuating the Americans on Omaha Beach.

On the other hand, the landings at Utah suffered less than 200 causalities out of the 34,000 who landed there.

The Allied casualties for D-Day on the beaches, behind the lines where the paratroopers and glider forces landed and on some ships that were hit in the English Channel totaled more than 9,000.

Wilder's group landed about a mile from where they were suppose[d] to be, which meant going a longer distance to scale the cliffs at their objective.
Some of the invading force's casualties came from the friendly fire of ships off shore.

One of those instances happened near the cliff of his group's objective.

His best buddy - Walter Glendon - was killed, and as Wilder talked about picking up his friend's Browning Automatic Rifle, his eyes reddened as tears began to form.

As he began to climb the cliff, a short round from one of the ships hit near him, knocking his helmet off, Wilder said. Already slightly wounded from some shrapnel that had penetrated the landing craft he came ashore on, the dazed soldier continue[d] with climbing the cliff. It was later determined he had suffered a concussion.

"There was a lot of hell going on around us," he said.


But the objective was taken.

His wounds led to him being returned to England for medical treatment - it would be the first of three evacuations from France to England for medical treatment. He was to receive seven Purple Heart Medals during the European campaign.

His combat experience also led to his being awarded a Silver Star, a Bronze Star Medal with "V" device for valor, a "regular" Bronze Star Medal, the Combat Infrantryman's Badge and a French Croix de Guerre. When he received the French medal, he said " a little general pinned it on and kissed both of my cheeks."

He received a battlefield commission in March 1945. By the [sic] then the Germans were on the ropes and surrendered a couple of months later.


Wilder would soon be heading back to the United States.

He had hoped he would fly back, but he and a number of other soldiers were given flu shots that caused many of them to become extremely ill.

That meant he missed out on the plane ride and had to spen[d] a longer time on a ship crossing the Atlantic once he became well.

One other thing he missed was the parade down Fifth Avenue in New York City, Wilder said, who smiled and said "I'm glad."

Looking back on those days of World War II, Wilder said all he and other Americans did was serve not only the United States, but others in fighting one of the most tyrannical governments the world has ever seen.

"Defeating Nazi Germany had to be done, and we did it."



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Harry Wilder is my maternal grandfather - Papa Harry, to us. I remember the house he and my Grandma Peg made their home in Sierra Vista, Arizona. I remember taking decorative rocks from their yard with my cousin, Jenna, and painting on them and then trying to sell them back to Papa. He pointed out how ridiculous that was to us, and I learned a little lesson in business sense. I used to love pulling myself onto the bar stool at the bar he built himself, and admiring how he crafted virgin Shirley Temples for me. And when I was around 18, he stopped making them virgin.

I only remember a few details and the pictures he painted in my imagination, as he told me his D-Day story. I was too young, then, to comprehend the importance of the events he was describing. I most distinctly remember him telling me about the rope ladders they used for climbing - that the ropes went through the center of the rungs, rather than a rope on either side. I remember him talking about people getting shot down to the left and right of him, most presumed to have perished. I remember the chaos he described. 

Reading this article for the first time in 2025 has been an astonishing and profoundly proud time for me. I am so honored to be able to share this story which I thought was lost with his passing on Feb 20, 2010.

One point left out of his profile that is very important to our family is that Papa Harry and Grandma Peg had three children: my Mom, Sandra, my Aunt Joy and my Uncle Dave. Aunt Joy was the mother of my cousin Jenna, who was born just a couple months before me. Thus, the sisters (my Mom and Aunt Joy), and a friend of my Mom's, were all pregnant at the same time. Aunt Joy passed away when Jenna and I were very young, around 5 years old. She is buried at the church my Grandma and Papa attended in Sierra Vista. 

After World War II, Papa Harry went on to serve our nation in two more wars: the Korean War, during which my Mom was born, in Yukusuka, Japan, and then served during the the Vietnam War. He was honored with a 21 gun salute at his funeral. Papa Harry and Grandma Peg are buried at the Southern Arizona Veterans' Memorial Cemetery. They were married for 63 years.


 
Wilder, Margaret C: b. 04/13/1927, d. 08/30/2012, Sec. 3G, Row 1, Site 5, Wife of Harry Wilder
 
Wilder, Harry: b. 04/15/1924, d. 02/20/2010, Sec. 3G, Row 1, Site 5, US ARMY, MAJ, WORLD WAR II, KOREA, VIETNAM 


 
 
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