CHAPTER 7
CHAPTERS: Escape, Kidnapped, Mysteries, Children, Rob Tomingas, Henry Tomingas, Byron Tomingas
APPENDIX: Diary, Sources, Language, Geneology, Trek
Byron Paul Tomingas, myself (from a very biased viewpoint)
NOTES FROM 2006;
I’ve done a bunch lately, or maybe it’s
that this life has done a bunch to me.
While it looks good on paper, most of it has been traumatic so
I’ve created a philosophy to make me feel better about that; “he who has the most experiences, wins”. I didn’t set out to do a bunch, I
just wanted a simple little home in the mountains around
- Jobs:
Lawn Mower, Gas Station, Bus Boy, Construction, Gas Truck, Lumber Jack,
Rock Band Leader, River Guide, Guitar Teacher, College Teacher, Concert
Performer, Programming Instructor, Computer Engineer, Support Manager,
Product Champion, Worldwide Event Manager, Sales Engineer, unemployed,
self employed, Business Sales, ship owner, ship manager, ship delivery
Captain, Project Expeditor, Oceanographic Captain, VP Oceanographic
Operations, Librarian, Dad
- Talents:
Concert Guitarist, Computer Engineer, Senior River Guide, Boat Engineer, Ocean
Boat Captain, Technology, Speaker, Film Maker, Inventor, Writer, Figure
Skater
- Loves:
Walking on high ridges, getting a new songs up and flowing, watching my
daughter create, a good pup, admiring a beautiful girl
- Interests:
Geology, Physics, Astronomy, ancient science, Panteras
and other exotic cars, motorcycles, German Shepherds, outdoors, feeling
the shape of the earth under my feet
- Travels:
Spain, Italy, France, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Hawaii, Australia,
New Zealand, England, Western US, Mexico, Caribbean, The Gulf waters,
Prince William Sound Alaska
- Music
reviews: http://www.tomingas.com/MasterGuitarist
- Computer
Engineer Resume’: http://www.tomingas.com/resume
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1992
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2005
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The Car my Dad built for me |
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Self History Written about 1995
The quiet one, the musical one, the solitary one, I suppose that's me. I'm a
bit more on the stoic side than my brother, so I keep at things longer, usually remember occasions, always concerned whether
or not someone's feelings will be hurt.
I do remember back a long way, perhaps even my crib days spent under the big
cotton wood trees, the wind singing through the leaves. To this day, that's one
of my favorite sounds although with a slight variation, wind in pines at high
altitude. At 6:30pm on June 28th, 1947, I was born in a magnificent three story
log hospital that used to be right in the center of
My memory of events are well stocked and extremely vivid, not unlike being
right there although there's that odd sensation, like you get after blowing up
a balloon, of not quite being in the real world. But of course I have that most
of the time anyway. Many of my memories are seemingly mundane moments but there
must be something rich about those times to remember them so clearly after 50+
years. My imagination and my dreams are closely related in quality as well, I
dream in full color cinemascope with digital sound (that's the latest
technology today), and my imagination is perhaps just a little too real for
comfort. Henry and I inherited a bit more aggression than is normal for an Estonian
or a Tomingas, Henry more than me. I have the dubious distinction of being able
to feel emotionally exactly what it is like to be in some horrible situations,
it certainly contributes to my extremely cautious nature, add that to a
reticent Tomingas attitude and there you have it, Byron Paul Tomingas.
While my brothers had started life on the Elk Ranch, I spent my childhood at
the foot of
We all helped strip the bark off of long pine poles that had been quartered,
then we would stuff shredded redwood insulation into the areas where the logs
came together, the poles would then be nailed to hold the insulation and seal
the house. My Dad was drilling a hold for an outside water pipe but the bit was
too short, so he went in the house to drill from the other side. While I
watched, Henry walked over and stuck his finger in the hole, just as the drill
bit broke through. Mangled the heck out of his index finger
although it healed well, just a bit of scar and an odd distinctive angle.
Seeing that is probably why I never have put my fingers anywhere risky,
ever!
We had a big wood burning iron stove/oven and water heater. I must have been an odd kid, I like chopping wood for the fire (still do) and I loved warming myself by that old stove.
I have a favorite memory when my Mom took me up town to see Santa Claus in
the town square, it was absolutely magical! Here was a huge red sleigh pulled
by a magnificent team of horses (I think I questioned my Mom on that point) and
inside it was someone who looked every bit like Santa and he had a huge bag of
goodies and he gave one to every child there. It was snowing and as we walked
home on the crunchy snow, the wind picked up and stung our faces. I invented a
new way (to me anyway) way of dealing with it and suggested to my Mom that we
walk backwards and it worked wonderfully, I was very pleased. I was so little,
that my stocking full of goodies would drag on the snow and melted some of the
hard candy, but it was okay. We were cold when we got home, but there was a big
fire in the stove and I propped my big wooly socks on the stove and leaned back
in the chair as I looked out the window at my fairyland of snow and magic.
I had a rather hot time of it one night when we had a big bonfire going out
back. I was putting little sticks in, I was also wearing my "
My favorite toy was a little guitar that you could crank and it would play a
song, I used to play the song backwards as fast as I could go. I had a pair of
red cowboy boots when I was about two or three that were an essential part of
my self being. I felt very strongly that I could not go outside without my
cowboy boots on. My Mom once in desperation to keep me from following her
sister uptown, hid my cowboy boots. She couldn't
believe how devastated I was that I couldn't find my boots, "Where's my cowboots, I can't find my cowboots"
she felt terrible and let me have them and I headed right up town after my
Aunt. I also had a pair of sixguns and a great tooled
leather holster set (still have them too!). I thought for quite awhile that my
name was Roy Rogers (the King of cowboys at the Saturday Matinees at the town
theater, later on TV), cried and pouted when Henry told that I wasn't
Saturdays we would all gather around the oil stove and listen to the radio,
"The Shadow", "Gunsmoke", "Eddie Arnold". I still like hearing the song
"Cattle Call". Winters were pretty cold, one night,
I had so many blankets on me that I dreamt I was underneath a log pile. I built
lots of snow houses, I still love seeing winter black
clouds blowing in over the Tetons. I had a little
phonograph and every time we were uptown I had to have a new yellow
record with songs like "Zippiddy Doo Dah".
When television came to Jackson Hole
Most of my adulthood dreams are full color, virtual reality stereo sound
adventure movies, I enjoy them immensely. But as a young lad between 2 and 9, I
remember three really scary dreams at three different phases of my life, two of
them I was terribly sick. Once it was little fishies
biting my feet, I bet my Mom can still hear me saying those words to her,
another was when I was recovering from the burns and dreamed that the big snow
plow was coming through our front door, but the last was a psychological dream
when I was about 6 or 7(?) that horrified me. Basically, it told me that I
couldn't depend on anyone but me, I guess it was a
growing up dream, some of the images still scare me.
When I was in college, I took two pretty girls to the wax museum in
Our dog Commando, a collie Australian shepherd mix but large, who kept his
long silky fur immaculate all the time. He was such an important aspect of my
education in all things. I remember distinctly when I was one year old, Jimmy Rains and his mother came to the back door. Jimmy
was carrying a regular brown packing box with red letters. They and my mom were
chatting along merrily and darn well ignoring me, and I was excited, there was
something good in that box and I couldn't get their attention. Jimmy finally
kneeled down so I could see into the box, and there was a blue wash cloth, then
it moved, there was a pink wash cloth underneath and newspaper after that. A
little black button snuffled out from under the blue washcloth, then two more
black buttons, finally a puppy lifted it's head, it
was my best friend to be. My brother Robbie named Commando in honor of the
British Commandos.
My Mom was worried about me, always quiet and very late to start talking.
But then when Grandmother Mayes was visiting, she started gently admonishing
our puppy “Commando” as he was beginning to pull at a bed spread, I
can still hear her distinct voice "Oh no, Commando, don't be doing
that". Mom said my first word came out as a sentence, I said to her quite
plainly "Commando's a dog Grandma, he can't
talk". I just didn't have anything that I wanted to say before that. But
Commando certainly tried to talk, real conversation, not just woos and wows. So
I guess "Commando" was my official first word, I do like that too, he
certainly ranked as one of the most important things in my life. My daughters first word was "Light" which was
appropriate as she was fascinated by lights.
Commando was indeed a unique dog, he was one of
those rare dogs whose intelligence was extraordinary. Walt Disney even heard
about him and filmed some sequences for a winter fun film. When my big brothers
weren't around, Commando was my big brother. When I said my education, I meant it, I learned more about how to be decent, dependable,
conscientious, caring and determined from him than I could have ever learned on
my own. One of our favorite games was when he would grab the rope that was
attached to the sled, I would jump on and he would take me for a high speed
ride as long as I wanted. When I said let's go home, he took me home right
then. It always seemed to frustrate him terribly that he couldn't hold things
in his hands like we could, and he made the most sincere effort to talk like us
too. My brothers and I always had long sticks that we played with, to this day
I always carry a walking stick, Commando would run ahead of us, try desperately
to pick up his stick in his hands too, but then we would get too far ahead, and
he would snatch it up in his mouth and then try it again, over and over.
We used to have coyotes come into our yard and howl at night, there wasn't
much of a town then and still a lot of open space. There was also a black bear
that would come down to the foot of Snow King and spend a week or two in the
spring, he didn't bother anybody and nobody bothered him, I was very sad when
he stopped coming. There was a magnificent Black Stallion that lived across the
street, Smokey. He was really a high spirited fellow, but always on best
behavior when I was around him. I would take a big axe that I could hardly
swing and chop a prolific plant that wasn't unlike a flat lettuce plant, he
loved it. I used to run underneath his belly and he would stand perfectly
still, almost scared the owners wife, Mrs. Linvill to
death. One day he happen to step on my foot, I just
asked him politely to move his foot because it was hurting me and he did.
Years later when I was in College, I happen to run into Mrs. Linvill and she invited me out to
I was the sort who abhorred getting in trouble, I
wanted peace and serenity even then. I tended to chase off my friends and spend
my time in solitude with Commando. Being six years younger than Henry and eight
years younger than Robbie, there was too big a difference in age then, I was
just somebody they had to take care of who couldn't play their kind of games.
Although they certainly made attempts to include me. I remember being the crash
pilot of a wagon loaded and armored up with boxes, then run off a jump. Humm, maybe I misinterpreted their intentions there.
Dad, Robby, Henry and I used to make slingshots out of strips of leather and
willow bows and arrows. We had big contests to see who could shoot the highest
or farthest, funny were never dropped one on ourselves. When I was 3 or 4 there
was a fire uptown at the hat factory and Robbie came home and got me on his
bike so I could see it. After Robbie was gone, I always thought it must be hard
for Henry to step into that role, Henry always had it made being in the middle,
and he knew it. Robby cleared the way and Henry could get on with his mischief.
During his teen years, Henry carried a pretty big chip on his shoulder about
several things, and seemed to get in a fight and beat the 'what's-it-was' out
somebody every Saturday night. To give you some idea, at college he took boxing
and beat everyone in his weight, so they put him in with the champ heavyweight
to teach him a lesson. H. figured out how to nail the champ consistently and
the guy never caught on, he just kept stepping into it. Now, I have pretty big
shoulders, but Henry's are even bigger, and that means the blow we can throw
can have a lot of impact, more than one would think based on our size. They
finally had to stop the fight as the champ was just staggering around and
getting hurt after a few solid ones from Henry. A few 200 lb. plus bouncers in
bars were also more than surprised when they were the ones who got bounced.
Plus he had that short fuse, dangerous to arouse.
There is a glaze that comes into Henry's eyes when he clicks into that
determination mode, and when you know what it is, it is scary to see. Being
younger brother, I always lost in our wrestling matches. My mom said she always
felt sorry for me because I couldn't understand why I couldn't beat him at
anything. Then finally I won at guitar, I could give him a close run for his
money at hockey, but then one day when we were in
You know how you have those dreams where your running from something horrible, and it's all in slow motion, and you just about
get to safety, but then you drop the keys or something? Well, I took off, it was indeed all in slow motion. I careened around the
hall, fell in through the bathroom door, swung the door, it finally shut, and
slowly, ever so slowly, my finger came up, aimed at the button to lock the
door, slowly it moved to the button, and click! I locked it. I couldn't believe
it, I was safe! CRASH, it lasted just about that long,
H. came right through the door in our apartment. It shattered into a thousand pieces, Henry loomed up heaving and panting, death in his
eyes. My tongue has saved me more than I can remember, I said something like, the apartment manager might have heard that, we have to put
the door back together before they come. Slowly, the red light in his eyes went
out, we haven't wrestled since.
Well, there was one other little match, it was pretty funny. Maybe you
remember the part in his story when he was swinging a chain saw up on the North
Slope in
But having Henry as an older brother was such an advantage, he was always
into something, bringing guitars home or motorcycles, and the ever over ridding
boats, boats, boats. And he kept me informed of the latest songs and dances at
college so I could be a step ahead. My sophomore year at High School he had me
come stay at
Henry also taught me how to ice skate, with my first pair of skates, I figured
if Henry can do, so can I. I ran at top speed (for a 4 year old) through the
deep snow to the rink, hit the rink and kept on running, I was doing it first
try, until I got to the middle and tried to stop, kerplunk.
But I became a fanatic at it, every night after school,
I would skate down the snow packed road to the rink and skate until 10 or 11.
As will all things athletic, Henry was extraordinary at it, when he was still
in High School, he played on both the men's and High School ice hockey teams. I
couldn't wait, because this was my sport, I could get low, go faster than
anybody and I didn't mind crashing into people at all, because I could stay
afloat while they went sprawling. I could fly the puck from any angle and had
great power. When I got to High School, I was ready, but then something really
rotten happened, they took down the stands around the ice hockey rink and
nobody played it anymore, no teams, no games, no
glory. What they did have was football and basketball. My class was blessed
with really tall and really big kids, I was small and quick, no use at all, so
I started my band instead.
But in truth, what I really wanted to do was figure skate, in fact that's the only skates I've ever used. I wanted to do tricks, but the only trick anyone knew was jumping over barrels, as I said, all interest in skating of any kind seemed to disappear overnight. I wanted to twirl or something, I just didn't know what and there wasn't anyone to show me or watch. A lady across the street told my mom that she loved seeing me skate at night because it was so smooth and graceful. Everyone probably has a regret for something missed they would have liked to do, while I don't like public competitions, I would dearly have loved to try out for the Olympics. That's one of two dreams that will never happen.
There is a picture of Grandmother
Emma Tomingas, Commando and me with my fabulous gasoline powered car that my
Dad made. Dad made the car quite a long time before Go-Carts came out, I loved that car dearly and still do. Dad did some
marvelous engineering on the steering and clutch that had the hallmark of his
particular brand of ingenuity. While I have never been able to figure out how
the steering worked, the clutch was brilliant, when you sat on the seat it would
go, but you could also push on a long bar that acted as a pedal to disengage
the engine and clutch. In this way, if I fell off of the car, it would
immediately stop and wait for me to get back on! I drove it all day long, every
day for years. The first version of the car was with an electric starter motor
for power. I still remember the test drive, my head snapped back and the
sensation of the wind blowing my hair back was highlighted. Unfortunately, the
test was done downstairs in the Wort Hotel at my dads
workshop, BAM! I hit the other wall before I could regain my senses. I was so
embarrassed. But the car was built really sturdy and wasn't hurt, later he
replaced the electric starter with a Briggs and Stratton lawn mower
engine. It’s in the picture
of Grandma Emma, Commando and me.
Another fanaticism, I used to stay up to 1 or 2 in the morning listening to
KOMA in
As time flew, Henry encouraged me to start a band, then
talked me into asking one of churches if my band could play at one of their
record hops. But that was his error, because I needed a rhythm guitarist, and
he was elected. Scared the willies out of both of us, but the kids loved it.
So I had 'rock and roll' bands all through high school. I would rent a place
to play, buy radio ads, make posters and put them up, teach the band how to
play the songs, buy cases of coke and candy, get chaperones, fix broken
equipment, get everybody to practice, get everybody there on time, get somebody
to sell the cokes and candy (made as much there as on the dance), sometimes
hired a policeman or two. Whenever a bunch of rowdies came in, I would run up
to them immediately and ask them to help us (the band) because the cops were
going to shut us down if there's any fights as the neighbors have complained,
and I figured they were the best ones for the job. And it always worked, no
fights, no trouble, every one had fun, nobody got hurt. Except one night, big
old Bobby, he must have been 6'3", 240 lbs+ when he was in high school, my
old child hood chum, had been uptown. He came up to me outside during a break,
blood all over his face. He towered over me and put his big meaty paws on my
shoulders and said "Bairn, h-h-h-he got a hold
of me, ya-ya-ya-you gotta
go get him", by the way, Bobby didn't stutter. I looked up at big ol' bloody Bobby and thought, who on earth is crazy enough
to want to get in a fight with a guy this big?
Pretty soon we started playing other towns, playing
on a flatbed truck in Pinedale
Having a band and all the fun toys that Henry came up with, and no bad
habits, I had a pretty good time with girls, but unlike Henry, I was always
kind of an innocent, although I'm certain it didn't look that way, mostly I
think I just didn't want any real trouble. I always found the girls to be far
more aggressive than me. Girls who knew Henry would always eye me and tease me
for some reason, I don't know what he told them, but it must have been pretty
good.
At college, I didn't want to start a band so I worked in dozens of different
bands as a drummer or bass player, it seems lead
guitarists usually started bands. It all came to a point the summer after my
first year at college, I took my band to
Henry and I built a 28A pickup with flathead V8 in it,
we called our endeavors "Custom by Crash". It had to be the ugliest
thing ever, but we were the only kids in town with a 'hot rod'. No money, just
Henry scavenging and coming up with old broken things that no one wanted, but
due to our inheritance of mechanical skill, no problem, we could make anything
run. One time I was driving the 28A and a rear fender fell off and chased some
poor woman carrying grocery bags down the street.
Henry was always talking people into crazy things, and it was no different
with me. I can think of several times where he, being a world class skier,
would talk me, a mediocre skier, into going up to the top of something, and
then he would shoot off an edge straight down! Most times, you couldn't go back
up, so.... off you go. Once, I crashed, I hate crashing in front of anyone, I
was laughing before I hit, making jokes and generally trying to avert attention
from the fact I just took a colossal header. (I did the same thing once when I
was so embarrassed at falling into the basement we were building that I was
laughing about it before I hit, broke my little finger and didn't say anything
to anyone in fact I didn't even know about it. Now it doesn't bend at the end
joint and luckily, was the only one I could spare when it came to classic
guitar) So upon crashing whilst skiing and trying to be cool and cracking
jokes, I looked over my shoulder and noticed my ski tip, I tried to wriggle my
leg, nope a completely different place I think, but still with the ski on, how
can that be I wondered. Well, I had managed to break my brand new (era of wood skis)
right in half on the first run. I felt terrible, poor mom had as always put
herself out working extra to get lots of Christmas presents for us and I ruined
it first try. To make matters worse, Henry put the broken part in his pocket
and skied down on my single ski so that I could use two,
he crashed, and ripped the brand new stretch ski pants she had got for him. I
felt doubly terrible. From then on, I managed to get down off of what ever
precipice he had us on without falling down, probably due to that earlier
experience.
But the craziest thing I got talked into was taking a rubber boat full of
hefty people down the snake river from near the dam
all the way to Moose. The problem was, that Henry, and I for that matter,
assume whatever one brother knows or can do, the other
one can as well! Henry was a great outdoors man already, but I spent a great
deal of time playing guitar instead or ice skating. So when this boat thing
came up, I had no experience at all, in fact, I had only tried to oar a boat
once before! In the early days of commercial river
running, this wasn't uncommon, but it's plenty dangerous and certainly
unthinkable now.
I didn't even get started before I got stuck and had to jump out and push, I
must have hit every corner there was, missed every decent channel and got stuck
so many times I lost count. We took on water when we crashed into things and
pretty soon everybody was ankle deep or better. My briefing on where to land
for lunch was, you might see some big boats parked for
lunch just after a long gravel bar or you'll get hungry. The trauma of this had
taken my appetite, but I finally decided to attempt stopping on purpose for
once. I got the beast halted, and it looked pretty good, everybody was starved,
so I got out the big cooler with the lunch boxes, even I was getting hungry.
Considering the amount of excess work and panic and trying to pretend to be
calm, I was probably ravenous. I opened the cooler, and ---- everything was
soaked! Water had gotten into the cooler and the lunches were packed in little
white cardboard boxes. I separated out the soggy sandwiches, no plastic bags in
those days, and put together a reasonable meal for everyone, but of course it
took sacrificing my meal entirely.
Pretty soon, I had to face loading them up and continuing down the river. We
launched without incident and the rest must have done me some good, because I
was beginning to get some control of the boat. Around the first corner we saw
the other boats crowded together eating lunch, not a bad guess I made. By the
end of the trip, I was able to ask them if they wanted to hit this rapid or
that and then I could actually do it! Somehow, I figured out where to land.
That's not so easy to do, if your on the wrong side of the river, you can't get
one of those big slow rubber things back across quick enough. We landed, said
goodbye and Henry showed up and asked how it went, well I had just visited the mens room and discovered that through my Levi's, with all
of my over rowing and gyrations, I had worn big holes in both cheeks of my undershorts! Now days, whenever Henry has done something
similar to himself, he's not immune from his own situation creations, he says
to me, "I wore holes in my shorts on that one".
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I finally became a master river rat. Years later, when working for Barker/Ewing, I collected an odd reputation on the river. Normally, a river guide gets rained on at least a couple of times a week. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal in a rubber boat, unless you happen to be working for Barker/Ewing. You see, they have carpets in the rubber boats, rubber matts to clean your feet on before you get in, rain ponchos to keep you dry. And it is a lot of time consuming of work to fix a boat back up if it gets rained on. It means that instead of going home at say, 8pm you will go home at 11:30 or later and invariably, you will have the breakfast trip the next day so you have to get up at 4am. |
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Well, my funny reputation came from not being rained on, at all! For
two years I floated and didn't get rained on, much to the chagrin of the other
guides. By the end of the second season, the other guides were pretty much fed
up with my flippant affair with the weather goddess. All it really amounted to
was that I could judge
The oddest thing happened, and while it sounds like a yarn, it's true, a
little hole of sunshine opened up above me just as I launched, ray of golden
sun shone down upon my face as I looked up. The guides still left got
noticeably agitated, they started murmuring to each other and looking up
fearfully. Could it be that my magic was going to hold after all? Yes, all the
way down the river, with all the other guides getting drenched in their
positions, they had to watch as the eye of the storm followed my boat all the
way down the river, we were the only boat that stayed bone dry, and the boat
crew wanted a sacrificial blood bath.
I really do think the weather goddess like me, she kissed me once. About the
third or fourth season I got damp a couple of times, but still nothing like
everyone else. And I was getting rained on that day, although it really wasn't
rain, more of a cloud that decided to sit down. While there was certainly water
ankle deep in the boat and several gallons in the brim of my hat, it was still
a nice time, no wind, warm enough. We were all looking
down river, they were all sitting down and I was standing as is tradition in
Barker/Ewing boats, when there was a totally unexpected brilliant flash of
light downstream. A shard of the phosphorous white light raced upstream, a
woman screamed "Our guide, he's been hit by lightning!!!" Then the
roar from the lightning bolt ripped through the air.
The passengers were of course rather concerned, here they were out in the
wilderness in the middle of a very big river with tree snags all over the place
and their guide just got decked by lightning, how were they going to get
downstream without dying a thousand deaths? Plus the boat was headed for the
main area of the lightning. Gave me a nasty headache, but I didn't go out, just
knocked down, you might say that the weather goddess, is a knockout kisser. I
got back up still holding the oars, but said the heck with policy and sat down
for the rest of the trip while oaring. That night, it was obvious that my whole
system was out of whack, nothing distinct just contortions and pain, really
very strange feeling. As I said, it was just a shard of lightning, not a direct
hit, so I didn't get burned, just a little singed. Plus it was a strange event.
I had never know a fog like cloud to throw lightning,
and usually, you can feel the electricity in the air, your hair stands up on
end. No warning, just boom. The only long term effect from the hit, is that now my nose always points north so now I never
get lost. (note; except for the last part it really is all true)
I flunked out of the college at
Then, with more responsibility now, I went back to
We moved to
With the cash from writing the music for an award winning education film,
Jane and I indulged in an outrageous move. We couldn't afford a house, but we
were able to buy a deTomaso Pantera. That's a car
made in
There were a lot of free concerts, a lot of free television shows, a lot of
free radio shows, and in fact producing those events cost me money. Music as a
business was not looking very promising. I was back to getting advertisements,
brochures, renting halls, chaperones and worse. It turns out that to have
credibility, you need an agent, but the agent is under no obligation to get you
any jobs, he simply lists you along with ten other similar artists that can't
get enough jobs to make a living. Now the really bad part, the agent not only
gets a percentage (that's not enough to buy them a meal), but they can charge
upwards of $20,000 per year (1975). I finally found one in
There was another problem that may have been the most debilitating and I was
finally able to pin it down and take a look. I wasn't pleased, it was my
personality, I am a very private person, I have no desire to meet anyone new, I
am absolutely not gregarious although I'm generally well liked, and most of
all, I really don't like being noticed. Now, how can I pursue a public
profession with a personality like that? Unfortunately, it took years to see
that. So there I was, with lots of ability, and no desire to show it to anyone.
It was about this time I played with the Reno Symphony, this was the second
trauma of my career. The conductor agreed to one of the two concertos I offered
to play, and then he suggested I look at song he had written based on an
ancient Japanese theme, but not to worry if I don't want to play it. It turned
out to be a rather smaltzy version of the most
recognizable theme
When I arrived in
Now if I can just do a decent job of playing, I was doing okay, not great
but not bad. A concerto is really three songs that are closely related, usually
a medium, then a slow and a fast rousing one at the end. In the first song,
there was a solo section just for guitar. The orchestra stops and the soloist works the theme around in tricky ways. Usually this is the
most technically demanding part of the whole song. For some(?)
reason, in the middle of my solo, the conductor jumped off his podium and waved
his baton in my face as if I couldn't keep time. It worked,
I botched the notes but kept the rhythm square anyway. Then the orchestra plays
and I had some time to really get steamed up.
When it came to the last movement, I had decided upon my revenge. The solo
section in the last movement was pretty easy, just a lot of strumming. Now I
knew the orchestra hadn't rehearsed this thing enough to play it a high speed,
so I slowly started accelerating and by the time the orchestra had to come in,
it was really clipping along, it actually sounds best at this tempo anyway, the
rest of my part was just rhythm accents with strumming to keep things exciting.
Well, it was exciting alright, they sounded like a big overloaded bus with bad
brakes going down Teton pass. I smiled bemusedly and he sweated and scrambled
through the entire last bit. The next day the reviews raved about my playing
and destroyed the conductor, unfortunately it wasn't really true, I did not
play well. I think the conductor had been nasty to the reviewer at some time
previously. Oddly, the conductor asked me back for a completely solo concert
but it was very poorly attended, I could tell before I did it, that it would be
my last all classical concert. I did quite a few pops/classical concerts after
that, but the heart and drive was gone, I had become very angry at the
business.
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I have had my share of mechanical adventures too. When I
started going back to |
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One time I was way back in the timber on
A friend and I, had been tinkering with computers all along, I got his old
equipment as I couldn't afford anything while paying for my habit, guitar
concerts. Then he got a job with Digital Research, then he said they had a part
time job that was just right for me, all I had to do was test out new software
and play with all the computers. Sounded good to me, they even paid me. I
started at double my usual salary and it doubled again within two years.
So, it's a little like selling your soul to the devil, but I haven't had to
make very many payments so far. I always feel a bit guilty, like I'm
squandering a talent that should be out in front of people. As I was making
this transition, I put together a 15 minute video of highlights and used a lot
of dads outstanding wildlife scenery, recorded some of my originals and put
them on too. It was just a rememberence of where I
was at one place and time. But, the joy has come back into playing although my
technical ability has dropped drastically. I don't play ten hours a day any
more, I used to, the longest I ever sat and played was 17 hours straight, I
only quit then because I fell asleep.
Jane and I started doing a lot of traveling to Europe and Hawaii, then of
all things, just as we got this lifestyle figured out, on our 20th anniversary,
we must have had too good of time, Jane got pregnant. Really, we had just lost
our resistance to having children as the lifestyle had settled down. Persis
Anne (Perci) popped out of the pod, and what fun! She has a lot of her mother,
personality, body design, but also has the Tomingas frown and grey eyes that change color depending on what she wears.
One of my favorite memories is when P. was having a tantrum, I was as usual
trying to calm everyone down, Jane was getting
exasperated. Jane finally whirled on me and said "Didn't she inherit anything
from you!" PerciAnne is energetic, strong and
sweet all in one plus she has Henry's love of boats and Robbie's hair color.
Just before I started doing computers, an old misdiagnosed injury really put
me down. I live for my walks in the forest, there was two years in my thirties
where I could not stand on level ground for more than 30 seconds, could not
walk at all for several weeks, it took two years to build up to walking more
than 50 yards before I had to lay down or damage my back even more. I had
crashed only once on the Harley Davidson and was thrown into a field of
boulders, but once is all it takes. As I came flying
down from on high, I landed on my back, unfortunately there was also a very
large boulder right there and it wasn't moving out the way. Being a kid, I was
stiff, but mobile, I rode the bike home and a few days later was doing other
back strenuous things. I thought I strained a muscle and finally went to a Chiropractor, that was a mistake as it was broken. As one
side was missing a muscle attachment, the other side simply pulled the back out
of place. It caused other back problems further down the spine and another
piece broke off so that I have a whole series of events that can take months to
recover from. When it was finally diagnosed, I was laying on the hospital bed,
and my nurse wife and all the other doctors and nurses were standing around
laughing at how the X-ray of my back looked like it belonged to an 80 year old,
I was not amused. During the bad times, it was devastatingly depressing, I
remember lying on the grass up the hill in Pacific Grove, it took 7 lie downs
to get there, about one mile. I was thinking "Is this all the farther I
will ever be able to go? Will it never get any better than this? It this my lifestyle from here on". Now, the good news, it
took me from age 17 to 40 before I figured out how to deal with it, now I'm
stronger and more flexible than I have ever been. Mostly it's just hanging from
a chin bar each night and letting the back relax. I can walk all day up high
mountains and I appreciate it more than ever, I hope that my old age doesn't
take much of my mobility, I would be an awful person
to be around.
Novell bought Digital Research and I became the trouble shooting for
programmers who are using our $50,000 kit (NEST) to build the Information HiWay hardware bits and pieces like cable TV that you will
be able to send in request for certain movies rather than wait for it at a
certain time. Working a regular job has it's
advantages, we now had a nice house in
Just before the switch to computers as a living, Henry and I started work on
the Pagoda. There's a lot of adventures from those trips, from working his crab
fishing boat, to running from snow slides up one side and down the other while
walking up to Byron Glacier. One of the most major adventures was when we went
to see the "haunted house". At the head of Katchemak bay there is a
very strange area, the water looks funny and on moonlit nights, it's down right
scary, strange shapes and colors all over in the water. At one time of day,
it's miles of sunny large meadows full of tall standing grass land, within
minutes, the whole thing is under 20 feet of water. At the head of the area,
totally out of place in this wilderness, is an abandoned
On our way into the area, we saw and enormous number of Bald Eagles all
congregating in one spot. We went on by in our skiff (small row boat) and on
around the peninsula to see the haunted house. When we were done looking, I
decided to walk back over the peninsula to see what the Eagles were up to,
Henry was going to take the boat around. I started walking and almost
immediately ran into a huge wolf print about 6 hours old, I gulped and looked
around, hard to see anything for the waist and shoulder high grass, there was a
pine forest where the peninsula met the mainland, nothing there that I could
see. So, I plunged ahead, and came onto a bear print, about a 500 pounder. I gulped again and hastily looked around again,
nothing, no sounds. I checked the print, again about 6 hours old, then I saw
more wolf prints, "humm" was my shrewd
thought. I took about ten more steps and came across something that made my
blood get icy, a gigantic bear print, a thousand pounds plus. In a funny little
voice I called to my brother who hadn't gone that far. He came over and looked,
and I said, "well, they're about 6 hours
old" he said, "That's not old enough for me". We got in the boat
and started around, the tide was such that we had to get out and walk in the
ankle deep water and push the boat. We were looking at the area and generally
going where the Eagles were and suddenly Henry figured it all out. "The
Eagles are at a bears kill site, and I'll bet the bear is over there in the
forest cooling off during the hot time of the day and watching his stash
site". We walked along toward the Eagle area, and then we saw him, a big reddish rangy long strides, an Alaskan Kodiak, and he
was paralleling us. He was magnificent, all that power and efficiency, coat
shiny and beautiful. Then we must have strayed to close to his game stash, he
charged. Now a Alaskan Brown can run faster than a
horse, and we can't. So we swung the boat around, jumped in and tried to start
the little motor. I was paddling like fury until we noticed our weight had
bottomed out the boat, it was stuck in the mud! The bear must have thought we
looked pathetic and hilarious because he sauntered off as his bluff charged had
chased us off in another direction. Now the important thing here is, had Henry
not figured it out, and had we not been watching for him, we wouldn't have seen
his bluff charge, and it would have been turned into a real charge when we
didn't pay heed to his warning. My beard is a little curlier after that
experience.
My wife brought dogs back into my life, I couldn't bear to loose another
after Commando died, but Jane brought a lab mix home. She grew up to be an
elegant lady and won our love. We later added Sudy (Soo dee) and she had a long road
to go, but she too took her place in our hearts. Then their time was
approaching so I found Khyber (a black German Shepard) who picked up all that
love and went on from there. The next year we his cousin
Henry and I wrote a book about why
The great personal pleasure of my life has always been walking on ridges and
through high alpine meadows with a pup, listening to the wind in the trees.
Going for a moonlight walk deep into the forest, being out in the elements when
the winds blow and storms hurl to and fro, and yes, spending time on the water,
hearing the gentle slap of oars dipping into the water, on boats, boats, boats,
runs in the family.
I have my life/death poem ready, I don't know why, it just sort of evolved, I don't consciously seek out that sort of thing. On one of
my walks I was thinking that if I had to come back into life, I did not want to
come back as a human, and I couldn't come back as an animal, because humans and
mother nature can be so darn mean to them, so if I have to come back, what
would be a good benign thing to be. This will be the short version, the opening
is always the same, but the first two lines for the rest change on whim, I like
whimsy.
A Gentle Breeze
When I die, oh please, oh please,
let me come
back as a gentle breeze
To sing with trees, to glide with ease
oh please, oh please, let me come back
as a gentle
breeze
To lift a wing, make a willow sing
oh please, oh please, let me come back
as a gentle
breeze
Canyons to chase, rivers to race
oh please, oh please, let me come back
as a gentle
breeze
To blow seeds along, to carry a birds song
oh please, oh please, let me come back
as a gentle
breeze
Byron Tomingas
Update 2006
Well, its been interesting anyway. In 1999, my Dad died, my company virturally went under and closed many departments including
the one I was in, I got a job with another computer company, a Startup and it
failed the industry was crumbling, the jobs disappeared and many great
engineers were loosing their house and family. I paid off nearly everything and then
moved to
Not
quite such a dramatic year for us this go around, although certainly
significant and life-direction changing.
Perci finished 3rd grade and is roaring
through 4th, one of the “big kids” now, how odd the
sudden changes. The private school
she has been attending only goes to about the 4th or maybe 5th
so that transition is looming up ahead. Perci and I are considering moving to
I’ve been chasing the elusive butterfly of
success. Working
on a software product / startup company, which if I can keep focused, has a
terrific opportunity, very exciting. The product is based on my brother Henry’s research (his degree is in Industrial
Psychology) and would be sold to corporations. The product is called
“Cognition” and is a performance mapper/enhancer
utility. The web page is
purposefully vague until we get further along: www.WebMnt.com/Cognition
The big event this year was the Tomingas Family
Reunion in
Our very best to you and yours,
Clan Tomingas
Perci
& Mom (AKA JG, Jane, Sherry) on our Zion Park Camping Trip for
Perci’s birthday. Went on to Las Vegas to try out their
kids attractions, MGM is the best but too much training for gambling for my
taste, Perci started calling all the games, “Kid Gambling”
Discovering Dinosaur footprints in
Boogie boarding in
While I Kayaked in the bay.
Rollerblading
and cutting up in
Acknowledging
her heritage, the
Perci Camping in the Hoback
with cousin Alicia, Uncle Henry and Dad
The
girls with Grandma in
Tubing in
Into the drink with Alicia, Perci and
Henry. We
floated down the
Holding
up the tradition, Perci is really into rock
The
first Jackson Rock
band reunion:
Thicker, thinner, Grayer, wiser?
Henry Victor Lindburg Byron Instruments have mellowed a bit
too!
Dads & Daughters in
After all
that, back home to her Shower slide under the Wasatch
mountains
Persis
Anne Tomingas in the Sierras about to go swimming in the greatest natural pool
in the world. Glaciers
smoothed the tops of the foundation rock and the cleanest, clearest small river
in the world slides over it in thin sheets warmed by the sun and off shelves
into gold and green pools. May it
be a wonderful year for you and yours filled with joy, health with the perfect
blend of adventure and peace, Byron & Perci
TOMINGAS 2nd MILLENNIUM REUNION JULY 1-6
2000, JACKSON HOLE
FRONT: Calvin Strom, Alicia Hall (Henry’s), Persis Anne Tomingas
(Byron’s), Emma Griffin
2ND ROW: VictoriaJo Strom
(granddaughter of) Paula Donner/Tomingas (age 91 )
3RD ROW: Byron Tomingas, Anne Barone/Tomingas
89, Henry Tomingas (
photo by Mary Margaret Griffin (daughter in law of Anne, mother of Emma)
Guide in back seat
Encounter with Lunch
Counter that has flipped many a boat, but not this one! Henry pioneered the route through the
narrows in 1963, then commercially floated it 1967 with Dave Hansen as one of
his guides. Byron floated
commercially for Henry’s river company, Barker-Ewing & Phil Kent,
about 2000 miles total. Henry got into bigger boats & bigger water in
Alaska, his Web site www.Ocean-Explorers.com and www.WebMnt.com/Fairweather
CHAPTERS: Escape, Kidnapped, Mysteries, Children, Rob Tomingas, Henry Tomingas, Byron Tomingas
APPENDIX: Diary, Sources, Language, Geneology, Trek
