Do you ever wonder how and why things happen the way that they do? Well I used to, but I've learned over the years that regardless of how much we try to plan our lives; fate always has a way of stepping in and throwing a wrench into the works and dictating otherwise. At least, that's how it was for me.
My name is Tom McNeal. I'm 46 years old, stand 6'3" tall, and weigh roughly 220 to 225 pounds. I have dark brown hair with a small spatter of gray at the temples and dark brown eyes, both because of the fact that my mother is full blooded Chiricahua Apache Indian. I was in the U.S. Navy, and was a member of SEAL Team 3, Underwater Demolition Team 26. I never married, not because I didn't want to, but because I could not, in good conscience, put a woman through the rigors and strain of being married to a SEAL. You see, we were subject to be called away at any given time, to go God knows where, and there was no guarantee that we would be coming back alive, if we came back at all. I saw my buddy's marriages falling apart left and right because of it; I'd only had two relationships while I was in the Navy. However; I chose not to take either of them to the next step and because of that, neither one stuck around for very long.
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Chapter One
I was seriously wounded in June of 1994, and due to the situation and circumstances involved, and because I'd been in the service since I was seventeen; the Navy gave me an early retirement package. At that time I was only thirty four, and after I was released from the hospital in Bethesda, Maryland; I made arrangements to return home to Florida, where I was born and raised to try and heal not only my body, but my soul as well.
Regardless of how much the media tries to glamorize being a SEAL, and it thoroughly pisses me off, the fact still remains that the kind of work we do is very dangerous, as I've already said. I was also cross trained as a Hospital Corpsman, but when it came to liquidating an opposition; I was trained to basically hit em and forget em. However, once I stopped doing that kind of work and returned to civilian life, I knew my body would heal, but the ghosts of the past seemed to somehow find their way back to me at night while I slept, hence the reason for returning to Florida to heal my soul.
I had no family other than my parents, Harry and Diane McNeal, and they were both retired and living in West Palm Beach, Florida. After they got over the shock of my being wounded a few weeks prior, they realized I was going to be alright and were absolutely thrilled that I was coming home for good. They told me they were going to open the house in Key West and let me move in because they were giving it to me. I did, however, stay with them for a while so that my Mom, who is the kindest soul alive, could fuss over me. When my Dad asked me what I was going to do with myself now that I was out of the Navy, I realized that I hadn't given it one single thought, because I hadn't planned on retiring so soon.
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Once I'd healed up well enough and was able to get around with virtually no pain, I applied to, and attended, the University of Florida. Although I lived in an off-campus apartment while attending school, I still managed to make it home every other weekend to see my folks.
Because of my military experience and all the training I'd received there, The University of Florida allowed me to take the CLEP (College Level Examination Program) exams for well over half of the subjects I needed to take in college. Because of that, and a lot of hard work, I managed to get a double Master's Degree, one in Marine Biology and the other in Underwater Archaeology, receiving both degrees in just a little under four years.
Because of my military experience as well as my grades and test scores in my field of study, I had been approached by the Jamaican National Heritage Trust, which is basically, a branch of their government. They asked me if I would be interested in assisting them, as well as Texas A&M University's Nautical Archaeology Program and The Institute of Nautical Archaeology with the underwater excavations that were going to begin, somewhere around eighteen months after my graduation, at what was once Old Port Royal. I was very excited to accept their invitation, hell; who wouldn't be? However, I still wanted to be able to have my own research facilities, hence the reason for basing my operations out of Key West.
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I graduated in May of 1998, and after ceremony was over; my parents took me out for a celebratory lunch that afternoon. "We're so very proud of you, sweetheart," my mother smiled.
"Thanks, Mom," I replied, taking her hand and holding it, "It means a lot to hear you say that."
"Are you still planning on moving back to Key West, before you start working in Jamaica next year, Tommy?" my father asked. When I went home one week-end my last semester in school, Dad and I had talked about the offer that the Jamaican government had made, and also about y moving down to Key West, and seeking a Government grant to fund the construction of my research facility.
"I still have to get my grant papers filled out Dad," I replied, "But after that, I'm still planning on going down there and looking for a place to live anyway, why do you ask?"
"Oh, I was just curious," he smiled, casting a quick, knowing grin at Mom.
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I'd been settled in at my parents' house for about a week, when, as I was sitting in the den with Mom, I heard Dad call me into his study.
He asked me to take a seat, sitting behind his big oak desk, and then while smiling at me, said, "Son, I can't tell you how proud I am of you. I always knew you'd do well in spite of a few set backs here and there (me being wounded...ha ha)."
He pulled out a drawer to his immediate right, and then reaching down into it, he withdrew a small attachΓ© case, and placed it on his desk. "What's that, Dad?" I asked.
Grinning, he waved to me, signaling the need for me to come closer to him, and replied, "Your future!"
"What in the world are you talking about?" I asked, wrinkling my brow.
"Open it," was his reply. After I scooted my chair up, I opened the brief case, took out the contents and then placed them in front of me on my father's desk.
I saw three envelopes, and counted four bound stacks of one hundred bills, each stack totaling twenty thousand dollars. "What is this Dad, and what's it all about?" I asked, now totally confused.
Dad smiled at me and replied, "It's your future son."
"But I....."
"I sure as hell won't be able to spend it all so, don't argue with me boy because that's how it's gonna be. Besides, it was your Mom's idea first and I agreed with her. And I know you're not goin to argue with her now, are you?" interrupted my father, with a boyish laugh. Then placing the three envelopes directly in front of me on the desk, he said, "The deed to the house you grew up in, in Key West, is in one of these, and the paper work to your bank account at Key West bank, both of which require your signature, is in the other one."
"What's in the third one?" I asked.
"Open it," Dad said, grinning from ear to ear. I opened the envelope and inside it was a cashier's check for ten million dollars.
"Jesus Christ, Dad! Have you gone insane?" I asked, after picking my jaw up off of the floor.
He laughed wildly and then leaned back in his chair and said, "I know you remember me talking about my buddy, Phillip Hogue," I nodded, "Well, he is the president and CEO of the Key West Bank. I called him not too long ago and asked him what he thought the house was worth. After he gave me an appraisal; your mother and I decided to give it to you as a homecoming gift. We thought that it might help you ease back into civilian life a little easier."
I looked at him and crossly said, "Although I truly appreciate it Dad, this is a lot of money and besides; you and Mom don't have to do this ya know...."
He just laughed and said, "Well, son, aside of the fact that we wanted to be here to see you enjoy your inheritance, now you won't have to deal with the government to build your lab. And, as I've already told you, it was your Mom's idea first so, I dare you to try and argue with her." He had a very good point.
All of my life, I've never seen my Mom back down from an argument once her mind was made up, and because I knew I'd be fighting a losing battle; I more or less conceded and simply said, "Aw Hell."
Dad laughed and replied, "Yeah, uh huh, that's what I thought."
After Dad retired from the Navy, he went to work for McDonnell/Douglas's aircraft division. He still owns the patents on the targeting computers in some of the military's fighter aircraft. Needles to say, financially, he did more than extremely well and was able to retire somewhat earlier than most people his age.
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