Sometime I went through a transition from childhood to becoming a man. I never considered that there was a time when such a transition may have happened. I just grew into it without noticing the difference. Childhood had many phases, few of which were near to manhood.

My high school days ended when I was 18. By that time I had done the things that teen-agers typically do: become an athlete, learn things but only if I thought I needed to know, get by with things my parents didn’t know about, vie for attention, especially among girls. I felt pretty much grown up. I was big enough to be a man, but was lacking something, or a lot of things. 

With a lot of help I set off for college. One thing I noticed was that the restrooms were labeled “men” and “women”. Surely this must be it. This place is for men and women, but I was there only by the grace of my father who paid most of the bills even though I worked to help pay the bills. Living away from home was not enough to make me a man. I would have to be on my own and out of the care of my parents to be known as a man. So I toiled on as a college student for four years and earned a BSEE degree, thinking I could pull my weight as an electrical engineer thereby contributing to the winning of World War II. By the time I graduated in 1943 I was in love with a young woman. I hoped to marry her when the war was over. I was in no way ready to support a wife at that time. 

Upon graduation I was offered jobs with the government at Oak Ridge and with Westinghouse. The recruiters could not tell me what kind of work I’d do at Oak Ridge. I opted for Westinghouse where a variety of jobs was available.

I was soon off to Pittsburgh where I spent a few months on the Westinghouse student course. There I had the opportunity to get acquainted with several types of work to help me decide my career path. The best part was that I not only got to see engineers in action but I got paid for it. A good thing, too, my one and only suit had served me for too many years. One could see the color of my drawers through the shiny seat of my pants.

I suppose that had I been asked at the time if I had entered into manhood I’d have chosen this day: I’d saved enough money to buy a brand new suit and went out and bought it. No help from my family.

I went to Ohio for my final student course assignment. There they designed and manufactured electric power equipment for aircraft. The design work seemed to be to my liking, so I decided to accept a job at that plant. I was just getting settled into the job so as to be productive when the long arm of Uncle Sam reached in for my body. I say body because he didn’t much care what I could do, so long as I could follow orders. And that I did, for my whole military career: “Tenshun,” “Forward harch,” “Lights out,” “Everybody up for a little midnight hike.” And so it went.

Where did this put me on my transition to manhood? One might say it dumped me into the middle of it. On the other hand maybe I was back to the starting point. I now had new parents to direct my life. I’d had more freedom as a teen-ager at home with my real parents.

Upon my discharge I felt a sense of freedom as I went back to my job. I could even wear my now-not-so-new suit. I felt free to make plans without the cloud of uncertainty looming just ahead. I saved some money and in a few months I was ready to find a wife and settle down. Although I’m not sure just when it happened the transition was now complete.