Bigger Than Life
How can any of us deny our past as something that ultimately becomes meaningful today?(Whether good or bad)
My dad was named Clovis Leon Putney. He was born in Oklahoma City two days before Christmas at home on a snowy evening, weighing in at 10 pounds on a chicken scale. Or so the story goes. His size at birth was the first and last time his size measured in the 90th percentile for growth and development. For much of his life, he lived as a man of slender stature. However, he presented himself as Bigger than Life in the eyes of so many people who relied on him to escape their reality. Dad entertained and cared for Navy Armed Servicemen embarking and departing from the Port of Long Beach, California in his role as a Program Director for the Armed Services YMCA.
He threw himself into his career to organize USO-type weekly shows which very much resembled a cross between a Rowan & Martin Laugh-In series with a boisterous Carol Burnett variety show. He was Bob Hope entertainment with a Frank Sinatra look (the early years). Between 1953-1973, Dad (and the rest of us) practically lived at the YMCA. . The servicemen Dad served were on active duty in the Korea and Vietnam wars and his job was to provide an opportunity for respite while away from home.
Beginning as early as 1861 with the Civil War, volunteers with the Armed Services YMCA provided relief and comfort to sick and wounded soldiers. In 1941 during WWII, President Franklin Roosevelt asked the YMCA to take the lead in mobilizing military support. Many organizations such as Catholic Community Services, Jewish Welfare Board, Salvation Army and National Travelers Aid Association came together and formed the United Services Organizations (USO). Upon deactivation in 1947, the YMCA Army and Navy Departments immediately filled the gap in social services for military personnel, changing its name to the YMCA Armed Services Department.
During WWII, my dad was introduced to the effectiveness of the YMCA while he was in the Navy. He received his Masters degree in Group Work from George Williams College following his Navy career and soon began working at the Armed Services YMCA in Long Beach, CA near the port of Long Beach. George Williams College was a national center for the development of group work as a profession. It was also an early pioneer in the idea of holistic health, with the integration of body, mind and spirit that was a key concept within the YMCA movement.
In 1951 the USO was reactivated during the Korean War with the YMCA serving as its major operating agency and continued operations through the Vietnam conflict. The Long Beach facility was residential and near the ocean and the Long Beach Pike. The building had billiard and cinema rooms inside the building and physical activities outside. I personally remember a HUGE trampoline to jump on. His job was to bring light to the dark for the majority of the Armed Servicemen, whose ages often ranged from 18-22 years. His goal was to offer reprieve from the horror brought on by war times. They slept, ate and were entertained there. Where to begin? It soon became obvious, He need to re-create Laugh-In’s “Knock-Knock Joke Wall”
He crafted his evening shows to include the community and adopted skits from “Laugh In” like the set with the wall of window sized doors for the “ Knock-Knock-Joke Wall” jokes with community members who adopted the roles of actresses: Ruth Buzzi and Arte Carne, Goldie Hawn, and JoAnne Worley. Dad’s nephew portrayed the Gary Owens character as the announcer and he himself became a Tim Conway-type character (when he wasn’t singing like Frank or throwing out comedic stories like Bob Hope) He included everyone in the skits; he loved to entertain the service men and they loved seeing each other on stage.
Often taking the audience by surprise and in pure vaudeville flair, he attached two 6-inch long, half-inch wide bolts to the bottom of his shoes near the heel. Securing them tightly, he closed out the show with his closing song with a dash of comedic body language with hopes of leaving the audience wanting more. He approached the stage by walking in front of the curtain for a final song, singing something similar to Carol Burnett’s closing song, “I’m so glad we had this time together…” Somewhere in the second verse he started to lean to one side while singing – then suddenly straightened up – then leaned to the other side. A bit peculiar looking indeed, but then, nearing the third verse, his leaning surpassed the natural gravity tilt capable of remaining vertical, and yet, he did not fall over. Soon, a service man approached the stage to appear to ‘catch him’ as he leaned just a little too far in one direction and scurry behind my dad to repeat the process on the other side. Never did he fall. He finished the song and then walked off-stage. No one was the wiser.
I grew up watching these bits on stage. I loved seeing them rehearse “White Christmas-style”. He had Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby characters, singing and dancing their tails off! Complete with humorous skits that would allow the shiest of Service men to come out of their shell to show their alter ego if not only by portraying another character on stage. Dad created an all-inclusive show drizzled with tears of laughter; for that moment, there was no war, no suffering, no dying. These realities were on hold awaiting attention Stage Left.
By the time the late 1960’s rolled around, we all became committed to the YMCA, or the “Y” as we called it. I spent my first ten Christmas Eves in the residence building of the YMCA waking up to a huge Christmas tree in the main hall. I remember my older brother getting a bike one year and my very pregnant mom mixing biscuits for 200 servicemen in the kitchen. Once she paused while mixing the dough when she felt a contraction-like sensation. My grandmother, who had flown in from Oklahoma (the same woman who gave birth to a 10-lb home-birthed baby in the middle of a snow storm) simply shot my mom a perspired look of distress and determination followed by a quietly whispered voice containing the words, “Not now, Sue, we’ve got 200 Christmas breakfasts to make for these boys.'' And just like that, my brother Christopher paused his appearance and was born the day AFTER Christmas instead.
My dad’s mind raced with creative ideas, plans and wild schemes for more ways to entertain the young men each and every day. The joke in our home was that he and mom must have conceived all four children on a Thursday because that was the only day he had off from work!
As a school teacher, I can relate to this multitasking skill set. My mind remains in the moment and on the twelve other important matters that await me. He was not an absent dad, but often our time with him was indeed spent at the YMCA building site. I remember playing pool with the servicemen in the billiard room and jumping on the trampoline out back. We were quite independent in those days. I never really knew where my folks were.
It was the late 1960’s/early 1970’s, at the ripe old age of 9, I was accustomed to being able to run around unaccompanied. One day I remember a serviceman teaching me how to retrieve the billiard balls without having to pay the $.25 to play a game. He told me my hand and arm were the precise size to reach under the table, through the slot and pull the lever. At the time, I didn’t really think about if this was cheating or stealing until one day I showed Dad my new trick. That was the last day I conducted that trick… for anyone.
This was a time of bringing light to the dark and creating fun from things that were difficult. I didn’t truly understand it all, but I was amazed as I watched my dad offer relief through laughter. It left an impression on me and it affects how I approach my work today as a teacher and yoga instructor.
I come from a lineage of laughter. We make light from darkness in my family, and I offer light to you, too. Just this past weekend, my co-teachers and I conducted our first yearly 4-part Seasonal Series “Horses, Art and Yoga or HAY” retreat. True to form, Fall’s harvest brought abundance. Together our group of 12 women from 9-years to 69-years learned about the healing magic of wild mustang, expressed mixed media art through free and open expression, and opened and closed our retreat with yoga consisting of challenging and then meditative practices.
We were told a story of a lead stallion who was abused and suffered through a rodeo circuit for 4 long years and was never allowed to rest nor lay down. He was rescued but was too weak to persevere and when allowed, he chose to lay down to die, his ultimate surrender. A young equestrian girls group asked if they could lay down with this horse to pet and tell him that he was a good horse and that they loved him. Because of their love, this lead stallion shifted paths and chose life. Today, we see this lovable horse allowing additional young retreat goers the opportunity to exchange gratitude.
This is the exchange of community that excites me the most. When shifts toward change are simply allowed to happen.
Some date changes to future HAY Retreats “Seasonal Series”
Winter: Feb 12, 2022
Spring: May 21, 2022
Summer: Aug 20, 2022
Fall: Oct 22, 2022
