Okay! So I've tried to write about this before. I hope this is not a
duplicate. Larry Zipp was a World War Two Submarine Corp veteran. I was
his neighbor, for a brief time in the middle seventies. Zipp offered to
loan me some tools for one of the projects I was working on in the
driveway that bordered our two houses. I showed up late in the day, on one tool
borrowing expedition, and discovered Zipp passed out on the couch and his
son apologizing for his fathers alcoholicness. He also explained
his mother had long since left.
To be in the Submarine Corp you had to be one of the best and the
brightest. That hadn't occurred to me while I knew Zipp. I was just
bothered by his alcoholic nature. Zipp always seemed to take every
conversation down to nonsense either flirting with hostility or
chaoticness, depending, probably on whichever provided the quickest route
to the next drink.
I still managed to hang out with him, now and then and I remember
visiting a couple of his haunts with him. There was a local tavern, where
everybody greeted him with the same disdain you would expect for a
nonsensical alcoholic. We drove over to see another WWII veteran he drank
with.
One cohort that sticks in my mind was Lil the River Rat, as Zipp
referred to her. She lived in a trailer, down by the Duwamish River.
The twenty five foot trailer partially stuck in the mud, tilted uphill,
with about six other trailers. Once inside I was stunned at how
immaculate it was, with doilies on the wall, a nice chair and table. But
the woman who met us was gruff and cussed with every other word. A shin
cast on one leg allowed her to hobble to the bottle she and Zipp took
their first drink out of.
On the wall was a picture of a stunningly beautiful girl. The softness,
the pose, it was like the best high school photograph I had ever seen of
one of the most beautiful woman alive. I couldn't help but stare. "Is
that your daughter?" I asked Lil. "That's me honey." Lil didn't give
any further explanation but just kind of watched for a minute as my
realization sunk in. I learned later that it was a Hollywood still and
Lil had been an actress, with a "promising career" as Zipp said in one of
his more believable moments.
The lessons I learned from Zipp were powerful, when I think back on
them. That old nonsensical short red headed alcoholic was imparting a
little wisdom to his younger neighbor, who was willing to spend some time
with him and drive him around. Years later, after I sold the house and
had moved out of the area and back in again, I ran across Zipp jay-walking
across a four lane highway to get to the grocery store. He didn't seem to
know me at first. He confessed that he no longer lived in the house on
fifth avenue and pointed west, saying he lived in an apartment over there.
Zipp moved to his old nonsensical tone and we ended our somewhat awkward
conversation.
A couple of weeks later a local TV station did a tribute to the
Submarine Corp. They interviewed Zipp. I was amazed at the unrehearsed
eloquent tribute Zipp gave to his submarine buddies. The nonsensical Zipp
I had known, had disappeared completely. It was an opportunity for a
historic moment and Zipp rose to the challenge to pay a proper tribute
that he knew his shipmates deserved. I was moved and even though Zipp
destroyed his life with alcohol, he was a hero in this last call where we
saw some of the Zipp that had earned him a spot on the Submarine Corp.
