We packed up and went to Modesto where I got a job with PG&E as a Field Accountant. In the meantime, I put in an application to be a physical therapist in Vallejo. A month later, they sent for me.

I never bothered going back to college for my formal graduation ceremony. They mailed me my diploma, the same as they did in high school.

In August 1948, we moved to Vallejo. We found a duplex in a housing project. It was a two-bedroom unit within walking distance from the hospital where I started working. I really liked it there. The hours were fine and we were appreciated by both the doctors and patients. We had two kinds of patients: those with multiple sclerosis and those with a spinal block from the waist down; ie. they had no feeling from the waist down. We spent a lot of time teaching them how to get around on crutches. The M.S. Patients had feeling in their lower limbs, but were unable to move them.

I might have stayed there had it not been for this one physical therapist (PT) gal who asked me to take over the care of her patients while she went on vacation. She gave me detailed instructions on what to do, but privately I disagreed, and did it my way. When she came back, her patients were twice as flexible as before. She lost credibility with her patients, so she went to the doctor and wanted me fired. I don't know whether he would or wouldn't have fired me; so I just quit.

She was head of the PTs, and I knew that things would just never be the same. One of her patients gave me a painting of a purple cow that she had painted with her mouth.

After I quit the hospital in February 1949, the first thing I did was buy a different car. A 1940 Ford V8, 2-door, back up, go ahead son of a gun. Then I went over to the C&H sugar plant in Crockett and got a job sweeping up sugar etc. They were on strike at the time; the strikers and I exchanged pleasantries when I walked through the picket line. I was there only five days.

In February 1949, the Fluor Construction Company in Rodeo gave me a job as their payroll accountant. Fluor had a contract with the Union Oil Refinery in Rodeo; they were responsible for hiring a lot of men whenever Union Oil shut down the plant to repair existing pipes etc. It paid almost twice what I was getting at the hospital, so I was content. I also had a side job working in a photography shop as a part-time salesman.

I got word that Susanville, California was looking for a PE teacher and swimming coach. I contacted the principal and made arrangements to see him on a Friday. I hopped aboard a Greyhound bus and went up there. When I got there, August 14, 1949, it was snowing. I wasn't about to put your mom in a house up there where she would be snowbound with two little boys, so I just stayed on the bus which was going to Reno. When I got to Reno, I telephoned and met with an old friend of mine from Boulder City, Lyle Roush. We didn't get much talk in because that bus was leaving for the return trip to San Francisco and I had a circle ticket. I got home late that day. The next day two police officers came by the house and asked me to accompany them to the station. Someone had broken into the photography shop the night before I left. I told them where I had gone and who I had seen in Reno. They checked and let me off the hook. They knew it was an inside job and nailed the other sales clerk.

On weekends, we tried to do a little traveling and camping. All we had was a pup tent and very few utensils. The kids and I really enjoyed ourselves, but mom would rather have stayed in a motel. She wasn't too hot for all the dust and dirt and generally no place to take a shower, so most of our trips were one-day affairs.

In February 1950, I met a welder at Rodeo, California. We decided to go into the business of fabricating clothesline poles and playground equipment. He had a home between Concord and Martinez with a big front yard. This is where we put everything together. I took a two-week vacation from my job at Fluor, hoping that we'd get a sufficient start so that I could decide to stay and then quit my job with Fluor. At the end of two weeks, we were flat broke. My nephew, Kermit Jr. was working for us at the time. I remember one time when we were out selling house to house, I asked him to try and sell to the next house. He went to the door, knocked, and when the woman came to the door, he froze. It just wasn't his cup of tea. He did get a hold of a friend of his, Bob Allerdyce, to see if he could help us to come up with some other way of merchandising the project. Bob came back the day we were folding camp and said the bank could include our product along with their FHA loans. Too late. After we paid everyone off, we had just enough to buy a jug of wine. I was back at work at Fluor the next day. They'd just started building heavily in the Walnut Creek and Concord areas. We'd have been rich if we'd had 5000 instead of 500 dollars to promote our project.

I asked the foreman of the pipe fitters at Fluor if I could get a job as a pipe fitter. He said, yes he'd train me, but first, I had to join the union. Hey that would be great; those guys were making twice what I was making. So I went to the union office in Oakland, gave them the money, and asked when they would send me out to work. They said that they didn't have any work just then and that I would have to get in line behind other members also waiting for work. I never told them where I was going to work but I was able to get my money back. Old "Hit a Lick Bingham" missed again.

Through the alumni magazine, I ran into a fellow that had gone to Arizona State at Flagstaff just before me. His name was Mike McConnel; his wife was named Nancy. They lived in Vallejo. We became really close friends. Mom and I used to play bridge with them. We still see them after 40 years. They now live in Ventura.

About the only other highlight that I can remember from the period 1948-1949, is when I entered the Vallejo Open Tennis Tournament. I beat the number one seed in the first round, but lost to the second seed in the finals. I can't recall ever playing as badly as I did in that match. Unforced errors upon unforced errors. The final score was 6-0, 6-2.

In June 1950, I applied for a job as Recreation Director at a small school in Brisbane. They telephoned me and we set up an appointment for an interview. The day I went over there, I picked up a couple that was waiting at the bus stop in Crockett. I thought they were man and wife, but when I got to Oakland, he got off. I told the gal that I was going to Brisbane and she said fine. When I got there, she was sound asleep in the back seat, so I just let her sleep and went in for my interview. When I got back, I awakened her to tell her that I was going back to Vallejo. Well it was quite obvious to me now that she didn't have any place to go. So I took her into San Francisco, registered her in a room on Mission Street, and went on home. I figured that someday she'd make it big and reward me. To this day I haven't heard from her. Oh well, I thought it was a nice thing to do, but I wasn't about to tell mom. Wonder what she'll say when she reads this?

The good news was that I got the job. The bad news was that we had to move to South San Francisco. Mom was now eight months pregnant with Scott and wouldn't trust any doctor except the one in Vallejo. Come August 15, 1950, she went back to Vallejo. She had an injection to induce the arrival; as close as I can remember, he weighed 6 pounds, 14 ounces. He had reddish brown hair and a light complexion. With mom nursing him for a couple of months, he got a good start in life. A few years later, because he loved his cowboy outfit, I started calling him "Two Gun". It stuck.

We rented a nice little house about two blocks off Highway 101 as you come into South San Francisco. A very foggy and windy area. Mom really had to bundle up the boys when they went outside to play.

My work as a Recreation Director for the elementary school was the first of its kind. I worked very hard and presented all kinds of crafts and activities for the young ones, but it was frequented mostly by the high school students who attended the school in Daly City. So I spent most of my time organizing basketball and baseball teams. Every two weeks we had a dance for them. The principal, Miss Natalie Lipman, wrote up my efforts but the District couldn't afford another year of it, so I was released in June 1951.

Your Aunt Helen had breast cancer and died January 6, 1951. She was living in Modesto at the time. Her children, Paula, Sharon and Stuart were just little guys at the time so it wasn't long before her husband Allen remarried.

I took a job with the Post Office as a letter carrier. After two weeks of dogs scaring the heck out of me, and people complaining that I put the letters in their box upside down, I quit right in the middle of my route.

We moved again in South San Francisco to a housing unit on Victory Lane. It wasn't as windy and it was a lot cheaper. I liked it there because there were lots of neighbors and the kids always had someone to play with. It was here that Steven got his nickname. He was just starting to talk and asked me to play catch. It sounded like "bear cat" to me, so I started calling him Bearcat. It stuck. When Stanford went to a small school and they asked him his name, he responded, "Tiger Bingham."

In the fall of 1951, I bought a real estate primer, and then went into San Francisco to take the real estate examination. I passed it and started selling for a small company in San Bruno. I don't remember much about it, but I do remember that I had seven listings, but nothing was moving. Money was getting short, so I applied and was hired to sell life insurance for Prudential in San Francisco.

They gave me a base salary plus commissions on the policies that I sold. I stayed with them for two years, but my income was too inconsistent. One quarter, I'd bring home 150 to 200 dollars a week, and the next quarter, only 75 dollars. I figured it was time to move on, so in 1953, I accepted a job with Remington Rand selling calculators.

In the meantime, mom said that if we could save 1000 dollars, we could buy a home in San Mateo. She went to work for Eitel-McCullough in San Bruno, an electronics company. She worked swing shift so I'd be home to take care of the kids when she went to work. In 1954, after she'd worked eight months, we bought a new home at 1808 Byron Avenue in San Mateo for 10,000 dollars. It had 3 bedrooms, 1 bath and a 1-car garage.

The neighborhood around our new home was just great; there were kids all up and down the block. Horrall Elementary School was only two blocks away, and there was a shopping center within walking distance from the house. We spent our first year in the house putting in the yard, a barbecue pit, a lawn so the kids could romp around, and an overhang so they could play table tennis outside. Joe Folen, our next-door neighbor helped me build a fence. Later on, Joe and I played on the same softball team. He was a little nutty, but an OK guy. We used to have a neighborhood poker game with a 10 cent limit that everyone could afford. Even then, I'd sometimes have to borrow a few bucks from him just to stay in.

I was getting fed up with selling, so mom suggested that I try giving teaching another shot. I applied, and in September 1954, I started teaching PE only at Borel Jr. High.

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