Today is a very somber day for my family. The U.S.S Constellation (CV-64), my Dad’s very first ship right out of boot camp is making her final approach to the port where she will be dismantled and scrapped. I know most of you might think that it’s dumb to feel such emotion over some floating piece of metal, but then again, most of you don’t know what it’s like to have been raised in a U.S. Navy family. My Pops served 22 years in our great Navy before retiring from service, and believe me when I tell you that he would serve 50 more if he could. However, what most folks never fully realize is that when an individual that has a family serves in the military, they are not the only ones that serve. Their family serves just as much. Growing up, my Dad missed more birthdays, Christmas’s, and holidays than he was there for. Mom had what is often referred to as the “Toughest Job in the Navy,” she was a Navy Wife. She basically had to raise two kids, born only fourteen months apart, on her own on some Naval Base thousands of miles away from her family. So what happens with families with situations like this? Well, the Navy becomes your family, and when the Navy becomes your family, so do the ships and duty stations that your Sailor serves on/at. My father, ABE-1 Roberto Tobias Jr. USN (Ret,), served on board the U.S.S. Constellation from 1974 to 1977 in V-2 Division (launch & recovery of aircraft), and Dad absolutely loved that ship. So much so that four years later when my baby sister was born in N.A.S. (Naval Air Station) Lemoore, CA, my parents named her Connie. Not Constance, not Consuelo, but Connie. You see, when Pops was aboard the Constellation, they used to have this button that her Sailors would wear that read “Connie is My Girl!” and my Dad always loved that phrase. I grew up hearing all about all of the crazy shenanigans my Dad and his shipmates got into in different ports while aboard the Connie. Like the time they were in dry dock in Bremerton, WA and my Dad along with three of his shipmates were out cruising in his 1968 Dodge Charger R/T and when a cop turned his lights on to pull him over one of his shipmates dared him to run from the cop. My Dad replied “are you going to pay the ticket?” Not a second after his buddy said “yes”, Pops floored it and the 440 Magnum in that Charger did what it did best, run. The car chase that followed was like something right out of a Jerry Bruckheimer movie. The cops never did catch him that day and when he was finally caught months later, the judge (who was retired Navy) let him go with a fine. I also learned about the organized chaos of flight deck operations and day to day life aboard the Aircraft Carriers. Like the time on the U.S.S. Coral See (CV-43) that Vietnam Fighter ACE Randall “Duke” Cunningham was coming in for a landing and was waved off at the last second. After the wave off order he put his F-4 Phantom into full afterburner but had already caught the number four wire so his plane pulled up for a split second and then slammed down onto the flight deck like the wire on a mouse trap. My Dad had a front row seat for this spectacle and said that when they finally got the plane parked, Duke was laughing as he was climbing down off the cockpit while his R.I.O. (Radar Intercept Officer) was so shaken up that he needed help off the plane. Pops can go on for hours upon hours with these stories, and even though I have heard them thousands of times, for this Son of a Sailor, they never get old. Later, in the final years of the 1980s, my Dad received orders for the U.S.S. Independence (CV-62) in San Diego, CA. It was then that I would finally get to meet the Connie at N.A.S. North Island, Coronado. You see at this time, N.A.S. North Island was the home port for the U.S.S. Independence (CV-62), the U.S.S. Ranger (CV-61), and the U.S.S. Constellation (CV-64). Let me just say that if you’ve ever seen an aircraft carrier you know that they are an awe inspiring sight by themselves, now imagine three docked right next to each other. That was the sight of the dock at N.A.S. North Island. Whenever the Indy was in port, my family spent countless hours on the dock while waiting for Dad to get of work and I would walk and play along the dock in the shadow of the ship my Dad loved so much. I remember thinking how the Connie stood out at night because the big 64 on the side of the ships island lit up in red, white, and blue instead of the regular white like all of the other carriers in the fleet. She certainly was a sweet sight. I was even lucky enough to board the Connie when one of my Dad’s shipmates took me up for a tour. I wasn’t so much so I could see what an aircraft carrier was like because I had already spent plenty of time with my Pops on the U.S.S. Coral Sea (CV-43) and the Indy. It was more about being able to say that I had formally met her, walked the same hangar bay, and stood on the same flight deck as my Dad. It was like meeting a family member that you had always heard about and loved but never met in person. I was in awe of her, and treasured every step I took through those hallowed hallways. It’s been more than ten years since the day I called my Dad to tell him that I read an article online that the Connie was getting decommissioned and was being sent to be mothballed in Bremerton, WA. Then five years later came another call to tell him the sad news that the Connie would not be saved and made into a floating museum as we were sure she would. The decision had been made to strip her down and sell her for scrap to the highest bidder. I remember hearing the disappointment in his voice and I felt so angry that this was actually happening. Then last year it was finally announced that the Connie would be towed to the port in Brownsville, TX for scrapping. Since the day Connie left port last August under tow by the Tug Corbin Foss, Pops and I have been tracking her progress daily. The Connie spent Christmas off the shores Trinidad and New Year’s Eve off the shores of Puerto Rico. She floated into the waters off South Texas on 14 January but weather delayed her entry into the Port of Brownsville and was forced to circle in the Gulf until further notice. Finally this morning, 16 January 2015, the Connie entered the channel that would take her to final resting place. As I sit here in my office working, I have the live web cam that is following her progress through the channel playing on my phone with a big knot in my throat. It feels like I’m watching the casket of a beloved family member as it is carried to the open grave. As sad as it is to watch such a powerful monument of freedom stripped and need to be towed, I have to admit that her profile still packs an impressive punch. A classy Lady to the very end. Pops and I were disappointed to hear that the neither the U.S. Navy nor the ship breaking company are hosting any events at her final resting place and due to their size and safety restrictions are not allowing any visitations either. So I guess you could say that this is my version of a ceremony for her. U.S.S. Constellation, on behalf of myself, my sister, my mother, my father, ABE-1 Roberto “Toby” Tobias Jr. USN (Ret.), and everyone who ever loved you…you may be relieved of the watch, but will never be forgotten. Farewell Connie, fair winds and following seas! U.S.S. Constellation (CV/A-64) 1960-2015
Posted on: Fri, 16 Jan 2015 22:47:47 +0000
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