Chapter 1

My dad was a dedicated member of the US Army. He believed all Americans had an obligation to our country, and he made that known to me on several occasions, and he often said he was fulfilling his obligation by serving in the Army. As an Army brat, I had lived in several parts of the country and spent three years in Heidelberg, Germany. He was a First Sergeant in the Army, and close to retirement. We were stationed at Fort Benning when he was posted to the Army Recruiting Office in Fort Collins. I was part way through the seventh grade at the time. This would be my dad’s final duty assignment for he would be retiring in about three years. My folks decided to settle in Fort Collins after he was discharged, which happened during my sophomore year of high school.

I never considered college when I was in school. During my four years of high school, I was focused on enlisting in the Army after I graduated. During my senior year at Fort Collins High School, I celebrated my eighteenth birthday on September 3, 1988. During October, my dad and I went to the Army Recruiting Office, and I started the process of joining the Army. I wanted to be career Army, so I signed the six-year enlistment contract on October 14, 1988. I would finish high school in May of 1989, and I was scheduled for induction into the Army in June of 1989. The Army called it a deferred enlistment.

After three years of active duty, I came to the conclusion that the Army was not for me. I completed my six-year enlistment and I was discharged on June 18, 1995.

I was stationed at Fort Benning at the time of my discharge. The sergeant giving me my discharge briefing reminded me that I had still had an obligation to serve two years of inactive duty in the Army Reserves. He said that most of the people being discharged just went on with their lives without joining a reserve unit, but they were eligible for recall to active duty. According to him, that was not likely to happen unless someone started WW3. Avoiding further duty in any type of military unit suited me just fine.

My folks had passed away while I was in the service, and as an only child, their estate had pass to me. It wasn’t a large estate, and I didn’t want to fritter away what I had received. On the advice of the estate’s lawyer, I consulted a financial advisor and had him invest the money I received from the estate. The Army provided for most of my needs, and I could live on my Army pay. Going out, partying, and getting drunk every weekend didn’t appeal to me, so I ended up banking part of my pay. The only thing I spent any appreciable amount of money on was dates with a few of the local ladies I met at the colleges I attended. I wasn’t the type of person they were interested in for a long-term relationship, so most of my relationships were for sex. Our relationships may not have lasted very long, but the ladies seemed to enjoy the attention I gave them, and I certainly enjoyed being with them.

One of the things I learned in the Army was, a college education is important. During the last three years of my enlistment, I had taken night classes at the local universities. Since I had enlisted in Fort Collins, I was considered to be a Colorado resident. I wasn’t what you would call wealthy at the time of my discharge, so as a Colorado resident, I was able to enroll at Colorado State University’s Pueblo campus without having to pay out-of-state tuition. I wanted to pursue a degree in Business Management, and I had been accepted for the Fall Semester as an incoming freshman. I had two months at the time of my discharge before classes started, so I decided to do some sightseeing on my way to Pueblo. It was an enjoyable trip.

I wanted plenty of time to get settled in before my first class, so I arrived in Pueblo three weeks before the semester was due to start. I was staying in a motel until I could locate a small apartment or a boarding house.

I had been in town for over a week when I stopped by a nearby grocery store to pick up a six-pack of ginger ale, snacks, and to check their bulletin board for notices of rooms for rent. There were a couple of boarding houses advertising rooms, but no available apartments were posted. The people who wanted boarders would only accept female boarders. I decided I would check at the campus’s student center to see if there was anything new since I checked last week. After paying for my purchases, I headed for my car.

Outside the grocery store, I saw an elderly lady trying to push her grocery cart down one of the parking lot aisles. She was being accosted by a longhaired, bearded man of about twenty who was blocking her path and shouting at her. He sounded as if he were intoxicated, based on his slurred speech. I couldn’t clearly make out what he was saying, but about every fifth word sounded like a swear word.

I headed in her direction, and when I reached her, I asked, “Do you need help, Ma’am?”

In a quivery voice, she replied, “Yes, I want to get to my car, but this young man won’t let me pass.”

When I turned toward the man, he shoved the woman’s shopping cart into the woman knocking her to the ground. I turned when I heard a shout behind me, and when I turned back, the man was running away. I knelt by the woman to make sure that she was all right, and the grocery store’s manager stopped beside us.

He said, “When I saw what was happening, I told my employees to call the police and came out to put an end to it. Is Missus Smith okay?”

The woman said, “I think I am. I skinned the palm of my right hand and I believe my right hip is bruised. Nothing seems to be broken.”

We helped her to her feet when she was ready to stand, and she said, “Thank you for all your help. I think that man wanted to hurt me.”

The store manager said, “I’ve received several complaints from customers about that man annoying them. But, this is the first time he attacked anyone. Mrs. Smith, you should file a complaint against the man.”

Turning to me she asked, “What do you think I should do, young man?”

“It’s Paul Adler, Ma’am, or just Paul if you like. I think this man is right. It sounds as if he needs to be taken off the street before he seriously hurts someone.”

While we were waiting for the patrol car, Mrs. Smith said, “I’m Elsa. I haven’t seen you around here, are you new?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I just got into town a week ago. I’m registered at CSU’s Pueblo campus as a freshman, and I will be starting classes in two weeks.”

“Oh! You seem a bit old to be a freshman?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I am. Up until two months ago, I was in the Army.”

“Oh! A soldier. My Hans was in the Army, but he’s no longer with me. What did you do in the Army, Paul?”

During the next fifteen minutes, Elsa and I talked. She got me to divulge the highlights of my life history. She was like my deceased grandmother. I just opened up and told her about my life, my former goal of being career Army, and my time in the Army.

During our conversation, I mentioned that I stopped at the grocery store to check the bulletin board for notices of places for rent, but hadn’t found anything. She said she had a room that she usually rented to female students; but she might be willing to let me rent it, since I seemed to be such a nice, polite young man.

When the police arrived, we gave the officer our statements, and Elsa filed a complaint against her attacker. As we were doing the police reports on the incident, a second patrol car arrived with Elsa’s assailant in the back seat.

We identified him to the police and they told us he had a medical condition that required medication. If he didn’t take his meds, he became aggressive toward the people he encountered. They thought Elsa’s complaint may allow them to get the man the help that he obviously needed. They told us that unfortunately, the facilities that treated people with his problem were revolving doors. The courts could only force the facility to keep him for the duration of his sentence. After that he would be free to leave the facility regardless of whether his treatment was complete. The officers were disgusted with the system, but they did what they could to help people, and on occasion it worked.

I noticed Elsa was having trouble moving. Once the police finished with us, I helped Elsa load her groceries into her car. I decided she wasn’t in any shape to drive, so I insisted on her letting me drive her home. I would probably have to get a taxi to bring me back to pick up my car. Before we left, I locked my purchases in the trunk of my car.

On the way to her house, Elsa continued asking questions about me, which I answered. From my time in Heidelberg, Elsa’s accent seemed familiar. She told me she was from Austria, and where she grew up, everyone spoke a variation of German known as Austrian German. I could feel her eyes delving deeply within me, assessing and judging who and what I was. I got the feeling there was more to this woman than met my eye. Of course, I always thought that of people who were significantly older than me, so I ignored my feelings.

Elsa lived five miles outside town. When we arrived at her house, I carried her groceries into the house and I then cleaned and bandaged her hand. I continued answering her questions while I worked on her hand. When I finished, she excused herself so she could go to the bathroom and check her hip to see if it was scraped. When she returned, she said it was only bruised and told me she took several aspirin for her aches and pains before returning to the front room where I was waiting.

“I normally rent this room to female students, Paul; but I decided to accept you as a boarder, on a trial basis. Come with me and I’ll show you the room.”

We went down the hallway, and she showed me a very nice bedroom. The decor was a bit feminine for my taste, but the price she quoted for room and board was very reasonable. She told me that once she was comfortable with me as a boarder, she wouldn’t mind if I made a few changes to the room’s decor. I told her I accepted her offer, and I would move in the next morning.

That was how I came to meet Missus Elsa Smith. She was seventy-six years old, and frail when I met her on August 13, 1995. However, she seemed to be in reasonably good health.