At my daughter’s wedding, my wife Darlene wanted to a get a picture of our five daughters together. Darlene had never used a digital camera, so she got the five girls together and snapped a picture. When my daughters looked at the display on the back of the camera, they started to laugh uncontrollably as they realized that their mother had taken a picture of her beautiful eye.
"It's a great day to play two." We all loved Ernie Banks, especially me. I grew us just a half a block away. Which way depends on the year. My family moved a lot. I lived ½ a
block away on Kenmore, on Grace, at the Carlos hotel on Sheffield. When we lived on Dakin, I could step out of my bathroom window and very carefully step over the tracks and get a free El ride.
I was a Bleacher Bum before bleacher bums were invented. Back in the 60' we could get in the park for free after the 6th inning, so when school let out in the late summer and early fall or early spring/summer I would make a beeline to the park after the last bell at Lemoyne. My first game I attended was around 1960. I went with a neighbor, Ray Kurstein, he said follow me. So while standing by the players entrance on Waveland, the usher opened the door to let in a player and off we went. Under the player, through the gate, up the left ramp and securely into our seats somewhere in the leftfield bleachers. I was there when an overweight, inebriated woman took off her blouse and waving her beer started dancing. She danced right over the left field wall onto the field, got up with cup in hand and without missing a beat continued dancing on the field. A couple of days later the basket went up.
I sat in the center field section that is now covered with Astro turf before it was covered. I got stuck upside down catching an Ernie Banks homerun in the fence between the catwalk and the leftfield bleachers. We saw all of the greats. I was at the game that Kofax pitched a perfect game against the cubs. I would wander into the park on off days and run through the outfield picking us batting practice balls while a lonely usher in an Andy Frain uniform who would half heartily chase us as we stuffed our pockets with balls.
Ron Santo used to give me his left field box seats if I would baby set his kids. One day while I was watching this kids, he hit a foul ball. I reach down onto the field and fell onto the field. I came up with the ball and that was the only time that I ever was actually on the field. Another time while we were playing line ball outside of the leftfield bleachers, a man approached me and asked if I would like to be the batboy that day. For about 2 minutes I was the most excited 12 year old on the planet until the regular bat boy showed up. Everyday I would wait for Ernie Banks and ask for his autograph and remind him that my name was also Ernie too. One day he asked me what I did with all of the autographs and I had no answer. I still don't have a clue what happened to them all, I just loved the Cubs and wanted to grow up to be Cub when I got older. I could hit a ball twice as far as any other kid that I ever played ball with.
Later in my life I was living in Birmingham, Alabama. My brother-in-law was a Holliday Inn manager. I showed up for lunch and joined him and a couple of his friends, who turned out to be Denny McClain, Chuck Dobson and Phil Caveretta. For those who don't know, Phil Cavaretta joined the Chicago Cubs near the end of the 1934 season and became the team's starting first baseman the following year. He led the NL with 197 hits in 1944 and in hitting with a .355 average in 1945, when he was named the league's most valuable player. The Cubs won the pennant that year and Cavaretta hit .423, with 7 runs scored and 5 RBI, in the World Series, but the Detroit Tigers beat the Cubs in seven games.
When I left Denny was on the pay phone pleading with the Oakland A's owner and general manager Charlie Finley and my brother-in-law asked me if I could drop off Phil at the Birmingham A's minor league ball park. At the time I was 23 and still able to hit a ball a mile. While driving Phil Cavaretta to the ballpark I told him how far I could hit a ball and petitioned him for a tryout. He asked if I had any formal training: little league, American Legion, high school. I answered no to all inquiries and he said that he didn't think that I could compete with some experience so there was my one chance to play ball. I guess it wasn't meant to be. So at 55, a father of 10, I own a fairly successful business in Phoenix, AZ. I moved here to be able to see the Cubs play in the Cactus League and I still know that next year will be our year.
A Little History
I have had a lot of jobs over my life. I have worked in a beauty supply house; was a radio announcer, radio ad salesman, started a jingle company, which led to a advertising agency, I spent two months locked in a van on top of a building in downtown, New Orleans, a stock broker, I franchised businesses. I was a graphic designer, a business consultant, an owner of a software company, I also owned a nutritional company. With my brother I owned a chain of tropical plant stores and I owned a company that created the Kitty Whiz Transfer System and other products which I sold first on TV and then through retailers. But when I was only 17, I was in the US navy and designated a ADJ, which translated to mean I was supposed to be a jet mechanic. So here’s what really happened. I was 17 and had just finished a 16 week boot camp in San Diego, CA. Before you leave boot-camp you take a battery of test and then they assign you to a school, job or a area where you can get on the job training. Around 2,000 recruits were graduating in December of 65’ and it turned out that I received that second highest results from the combined score of the test we took. Because I had not finished high school, I was instead assigned to a squadron in Barbers Point, HI on the island of Oahu. I was able to go home for a 13- day leave before I was to be sent to Hawaii. As it turned out, my leave ended on December 24th and I was sent to a base in Los Angeles, where I spent Christmas in a deserted barracks. Everybody else had gone home for Christmas and some misguided person simply didn’t have the intelligence to have me stay until the 26th. So that was Christmas in 65’, warm and very lonely.
I few days later I flew to Hawaii on Continentals Champaign flight. By the time we landed I was just starting to wake up. We drank a lot of Champaign. When we arrived at the gate, a big Hawaiian came on board and in a monotone voice, saved just for military personnel, he announced, “Welcome to Honolulu” and quickly departed to get to real tourist.
I remember how sweet the rain was in the warm tropical night. It was like taking a warm pleasant shower. We found a few girls wandering the terminal and tried in vain to impress them in our new Navy uniforms. It didn’t take us long to figure out that we were the lowest of food chain in Hawaii.
I arrived at our base late and was assigned a bunk in a Quonset hut barrack. The next day I reported to my new commanding officer in a humongous airplane hangar. I was now officially a member of VR21. I don’t remember who the commander was, but he was very friendly and since I was from Chicago and he had served at Glenville Naval Air Station, we were like father and son. He asked me if I liked the assignment they had given me, and I said no, I wanted to be in computers. No problem. He then assigned me to the data processing office of the hanger. As far as I know it didn’t actually have a computer, but it did have key punch operator and a machine that separated reams of attached folded computer paper. Did I mention how young I looked? I was 17 but looked closer to 12. The petty officer that headed up this detail took one look at me and let me know that he didn’t want me to ever come back. He said that he would mark me present everyday and all I had to do was cover a watch once every 45-days.
So what was a 17-year old sailor to do, but go to the beach every day; within just a few short weeks I was black with white and virtually lived on the beach from sun-up to sun-down. I did have one problem and that was we were only given $87 a month to live on and even in 1965 that wasn’t enough to sustain life.
So that was what I did the first few months in Hawaii.
Unmarried and Pregnant
Both my mother and sister were unmarried and pregnant. My sister’s baby resulted in the birth of her only child and my only niece, Sherri Patten. My mother’s pregnancy resulted in her giving birth to a baby girl she named Deborah. The baby was born with some serious deformities and died in a few hours after birth.
I went home on emergency to attend to my mother and the death of my half sister really had a very negative impact on me and I didn’t understand why. The result was that I was able to get a honorable discharge from the Navy to help my sister and mother. I was home in July of 1966.
High School Certificate in 15 Minutes or Less
When I returned home in 1966 I decided to get my GED. I went to Loop Junior College prepared to take the test. After taking the first of 6 or 7 sections, I was not so excited. This was challenging and I was not prepared. That’s when I noticed that the test booklets had all the multiple choice questions circled. It appeared that it was fairly easy to determine the right answer by the answer that had been circled the most. Each booklet came with a separate corresponding sheet where we were instructed to put our choice to each of the multiple choice questions. I didn’t have a lot of patience in those days and I liked around and I was fairly confident that most of those taking the test were well prepared, so I went up to the desk and asked for the remaining test booklets and proceeded to mark on the answer sheet the answer that had been circled the most. In less than 15 minutes I completed all of the test booklets and was later informed that I not only passed and received my GED, I also had the highest test scores ever recorded. Valedictorian of my GED Class? I can only dream!
Obama is simply not qualified to be the leader of the free world. It would be a disaster! The platitudes are wonderful, but we need policies that will grow our economy, not destroy it. Policies that will encourage virtuous lives, not policies that encourage decadent, immoral life styles in the name of equality. We need policies that allow individuals to exercise cha
rity without government mandates through onerous taxes. We need a man of faith who will be guided by revelation and inspiration from our creator and one who is the source of all blessings! We need men who are motivated by a desire to serve others, not men who aspire for power so that they can be served. We need visionary men, not men with hidden agendas! We need patriots, who understand that we have earned the right to use a larger share of the world’s energy because we developed the technology that extracts the energy, and uses the energy. The world is living on our innovation and labors: China, Russia, India, Africa, South America have all been pulled along by our ingenuity, our work ethic, our Christian values. Henry Ford invented the automobile; The Wright Brothers invented the air travel. Edison invented the light bulb. We invented Radio, Television, and space exploration. We harnessed the atom that powers cities. We developed the computer. We invented motion pictures and television broadcasting, cable, and wireless technology. Our medical advances are too numerous to count. Who are you to say that we don’t deserve to use the energy that we are able to extract, or purchase. I will not turn down my thermostat, I will not stop driving my vehicles! I will not submit to your foolish vision of poverty, because others exist and thereby should have a equal share. Let them earn it! I choose to be innovative, to solve any problem I face. I choose to live in a world of abundance, to be charitable to whom and when I desire or am 
moved by the spirit of love. I will not to allow you or any one like you to confiscate my labors and summarily give the benefits of that labor to others in your name. If you or others like you succeed in stealing my resources, you will ultimately be accountable to me in a much higher court. Only I can give away my gains. That is why we need a man of experience in these trouble times, a man of vision, a man of faith. Do not vote for Obama. This is not a time for icons, but a time for a honest man of good judgment, experience and a man who chooses Mitt Romney to be his running mate.
http://disney.go.com/disneypictures/wall-e/
Hmn... I just read a hundred of so pages of my daughter's (Michelle Jolley) blog, that's her on the left with my wonderful son-in-law Scott and three of my soon to be 7 grandchildren. Anyways, after reading I felt 1. Very proud that she is my daughter. 2. Guilty enough to get motivated to start my own blog. So here's the beginning of the Hemple Family Blog. Better late than never.
Anyways, if I remember correctly, one of the girls came home from school, I think it was Michelle, and was really upset. I ask her what was bothering her and she told me that she was singing the Hemple family song when one of her classmates asked her if that was the Pimple song she was singing. I can imagine how embarrassed she must have been. It is still our song.
Fire is and that the Shopko is about a mile or two away. Anyways, it started to rain and we decided to head home, having seen the majority of the fireworks, when Darlene stated that it was too bad that we didn't have tickets. I ask why, and she said, "Well if we had tickets we wouldn't have gotten wet?" I asked again how is that possible and she replied: "If we had tickets we would be inside in the Marriott Center, which has a roof and it would have protected us from the rain." I pointed out to her that if we were in the Marriott Center we wouldn't be able to see the fireworks and that those who paid to watch the fireworks were in BYU football stadium. Her reply: "You mean The Stadium of Fire isn't in the Marriott Center?"
I have been attempting to start a business selling an energy product: GoDaddy Energy! If you want to invest, let me know ernie@godaddyenergy.com visit www.sleeep.net or www.godaddyenergy.com
