I swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Most of this really has never been told in its entirety because people, unless they were there, participated and lived it, don't believe it to be true. Fortunately, for some reason, I have managed to keep a lot of pictures, which ends up being the proof. However, there are blank spots in my memory, I try to contribute that to age, but it really has to do with brain cells that have not been replaced since quitting drinking in 1997. I just flat out do not remember. Period.
JUNE 1964 My mother, bless her heart, put me on a Trailways Bus, several hours after the high school graduation with a 6 pack of Blitz, headed to Moscow, Idaho. I was going there to work for Beth and John McFarland, who owned the Arctic Circle in Bend. They sold the one in Bend and built one in Moscow, Idaho across the street from where the University of Idaho was. The thing I remember most about that part of my life was one could drink legally in Idaho at that time at the age of 18. I wasn’t 18 at that time, but a lot of Coors was consumed. I spent that summer there working in the restaurant and then returned to Oregon to attend the University of Oregon.
1964/1965 I went to the University of Oregon for a couple of semesters. I remember several individuals I got to know there very well and have tried to keep in touch with them over the years. Brad and Ruthie Asbury, (We named Cheryl’s and my first son after Brad) Hal Stromholt (Met him on the plane coming back from Vietnam and we went to Europe together, Doug Luelling, (he was the physician from Madras that came to Fossil now and then at an out patient clinic while I was mayor and who ended up having to give me two vasectomies).
1965 Somewhere during this time, I spent a brief amount of time in North Hollywood, California with Bob Hitchcock, who I had known at the University of Oregon. I stayed with his family; they were great people and great to me. Another one of those relationships that just seems to have gone along the way side.
I do not honestly remember a lot about this time. I do remember drinking a lot. I do remember seeing Jim Kerron during this period of time and driving around Hollywood in his Porsche. I remember going water skiing at Bass Lake in Central California with a little honey and her family from North Hollywood. Oh the good life.
1965 I returned to the University of Oregon and spent less than one semester there, once condemned for alcohol in my dorm room and once for spending the night with a lass in the girl’s dorm next to my hall. If I remember correctly, the Dean of Students said something like if it took him the rest of the year, he would see me expelled. I believed him and joined the Army, Airborne.
6 JANUARY, 1966 TO 11 OCTOBER 1968 My father came over and picked me up, took me to Portland, signed the necessary paper work and I was on my way to Fort Ord. This was at the beginning stages of Vietnam, late 60 are so no doubt where we were headed.
Believe it or not, I was put in a Platoon with Fred Hamm who was a high school class mate in Bend, at Fort Ord. However, on a training mission I contacted Poison Ivy, in the area of the groin and it was so bad I ended up on crutches, sent home on leave to recuperate. My platoon, with Fred finished their training and was sent on to AIT and when I returned I was put in another platoon and went thru basic training there at Fort Ord, AIT training at Fort_____________, Airborne Training at Fort Bening, until we were sent to Vietnam. Several events in training stand out in my memory. I was thrown in jail twice in Macon, Georgia during AIT for being intoxicated in public. I was always in a leadership position. I seemed to always be in some sort of trouble because of my resistance to authority. I got along great with the black soldiers because I showed them respect and wouldn’t take any crap from anybody.
My time in Vietnam to this day I say was the best experience I have had. I spent 27 months over there, extended three different times. It shaped me, molded me and still continues to dominate the way I try to conduct my life. I spent close to 14 months in a rifle platoon with the B 2nd 502 101st Airborne as a sergeant. Then I was selected to be Lt. General Rosson’s driver in 3rd Corp. You can go to this web site General William Bradford Rosson read about him and how much of a wonderful individual he was.
He was actually 3rd in command in Vietnam at that time. I spent a tremendous amount of time around Ambassador Bunker, General Westmoreland and General Abrams. Upon extending my tour of duty for the 3rd time he made me his enlisted aide. He took over General Cushman’s command of the Marines during Tet, we moved to Phu Bai and then he was replaced by Lt. General Stillwell.
General Rosson was from Portland and went to the University of Oregon. He had a very distinguished career after leaving Vietnam. I can not believe that I never made contact with him after my tours of duty. He still to this day has an influence on my life. We used to get up early every morning, just the two of us and go for a run around the compound, or where ever we were together. He would ask my advice and opinions on a ton of stuff, trying to get the enlisted man’s perspective of things. I still get up early, go for walks and think about him and the way he treated me. He treated me like man and like a friend.
We were very close for such an unusual set of circumstances that brought our lives together for that brief time. I would spend time on the beach all day, after dropping him off at his helicopter. By the time he returned at the end of the day, I was drunk, sun burnt and several times had hickies all over my neck from the crabs biting me on the beach. There were many times he would chew my butt out because I was drunk, out of uniform and would get lost driving him back from the airport to his office.
General Rosson died several years ago, I wish I would have made contact with him over the years, but did not do so. It was a huge mistake and has left a void in my life. General Stillwell, the son of the famous General Stillwell of World War II, died piloting a B-52 to Hawaii sometime after the war and disappeared and was never found. At least that is what I have been told. Perhaps somebody knows something different. Several incidents stand out during that period in my life. I once again was always in a leadership position. I am alive today because every time the Lieutenant said go that way, I said after you. I was independent and in control. I had 3 R&R’s to Hawaii, one 30 day R&R/leave home and one 30 day R&R/leave to Australia. The trip to Australia was spent in Perth and I ended up being AWOL and late almost a month after getting tied up with Sophia Abdula an Indian girl in Singapore on my way back. General Rosson was not very happy when I finally made it back. I eventually got court marshaled after drinking too much whiskey up in Phu Bai while the aide to General Stillwill. I told a two star general where he could go, literally and ended up getting thrown in the brig.
If I would not have had only days to go before returning home, I would have been sent back out into the field by General Stillwell. He instead, sent me out to pull guard duty at the ammo dump and within weeks of the court martial, I was on a plane to Ft. Lewis Washington, to return home to marry a girl I was engaged to from Roseburg, Oregon, Carolyn Jeppesen whom I had met at the University of Oregon during my brief tenure as a college student.
OCTOBER 1968 TO MARCH 1969 Hal and I had a great time in Europe. We bought a Volkswagen Beetle and drove through out England, France, Spain, Switzerland, Germany and I am sure a few other countries. I have not seen Hal since parting ways in Switzerland. I do know he ended up in North Africa, tied up with a lovely lady and my Father had to send him money to return to the States. I probably should find out if he is still alive and what his life has been like. (MAY 2008, Since I wrote this I found out that Hal had died several years ago and is buried in a little cemetery some where in Colorado. I actually found him by diving into the internet and even saw a picture of his tombstone. Another one of those failed friendships that I would give a lot for now to have had an opportunity to know how his life was. What a shame, just another example of how the drinking took so much of my life away from me.)
I spent quite a bit of time in Basil, Switzerland. I worked in a restaurant called the Blue Ox, washing copper pots in the kitchen. It was a great job, because part of your compensation daily was two quarts of beer. Because of my skills learned in Vietnam, a lot of the other dish washers ended up relieved of their quarts of beer. It was a great job.
I returned to try to help my father and mother save their marriage, which did not end up lasting. A few things I remember about this time in my life. I saw John Madden who was in the Army in Europe. I drank a lot. The women were fantastic and available.
END OF 1969 I tried to go back to school, Central Oregon College, but it was fruitless. I was on the party train. I met Mike Knowland from Manhattan Beach, California on the steps of the library one day and we got to talking. He said he was thinking about returning to California because he just wasn’t having any fun. I said come with me.
At this time I also met another guy, Sonny Gihon, who also was from Manhattan Beach and had grown up with Mike. This guy helped shape many, many years of my life forward after that fateful meeting. Mike and I are still having fun, 30 plus years later. He is my best friend and we try to stay in touch and do some river rafting. This was a period in my life that was party non stop. Sonny, unfortunately drank him self to death and died there in Bend in 2005, alone, in a coma at St. Charles Hospital.
1970 TO 1971 I went to work for my Dad during this period of time. He owned Bend Heating and Sheet Metal/and The Cascade Bowl. I also started rebuilding old wood heating stoves and wood cook stoves. A few things I remember. I drank a lot. There was a lot of girls who liked a guy who was little older and wild. I partied a lot. The Woolen Mill was my second home and the Century West was my third home. Got my first DUI. Once again, there are some gaps in my memory because of the loss of so many brain cells. I have a feeling this will be the case throughout the years to come.
During this time I had gotten bit by a tick while down at Kahneeta Hot Springs and contacted Rocky Mountain Tick Fever. It almost killed me. I spent several weeks packed in ice in a bath rub at St. Charles Hospital when it was on top of the hill there in Bend.
For the record. When I got sober, quit drinking September 1st 1997 I sat down and made of list of all of the alcohol related incidences, number of jobs, times moved, etc. I am still working on the list. There is just a lot that I do not remember. There are a lot of times, someone, will ask “Do you remember.?” NOPE.
25 SEPTEMBER 1971 Cheryl and I got married on 25 September, 1971 out in Powell Butte in Reverend Penhollow’s church. Now there was a great man. My friend Skip Fisher offered to let us live for free in an old chicken coop, if I would remodel it in to a little apartment/place to live, which my father helped to do.
I also think we started the Fireplace Shop, Scott’s Fireplaces during this time. Scott’s Fireplaces transpired in a short period of time to be very successful. We sold literally hundreds and hundreds of wood burning fireplaces, free standing. I would do all of the selling of the units along with Cheryl’s help, do the installations and the rock hearths.
I hauled all of my own freight, going to Portland once a week to get the product necessary to meet the demand. We had a very nice showroom, set up with rock hearths with the stoves sitting on the hearths. We sold fireplace tools, screens and it was immensely successful.
APRIL 1972 We bought a 40 acre farm east of Bend, just east of the airport, and had a very good life at that time. Those 40 acres at that time was a little less than $20,000 and I think the payment with the VA from the State of Oregon was less than $100 a month. Our first child was born, Bradford. Brad was named after a good friend of mine Brad Asbury from Eugene whom I met at the University of Oregon.
SPRING 1973 We sold the farm, don’t ask me why and bought a house and a few acres on Bear Creek Road (this was the old Ramsay Homestead) and ended up selling it also. You will notice throughout this story, I never stayed in one place very long. Never owned a business for very long and never worked a job for very long. Why was that? Had to have been a combination of the alcohol, the war and being immensely unstable.
SPRING 1974 We sold the property on Bear Creek Road, and for what ever reason that obviously escapes me, we moved into a rental house on Studio Road. Unfortunately, our first son Bradford Ian drowned in a ditch behind the house. This house was right down the street on the opposite side of the road from where KBND still is. An apartment complex sits there now, in fact my mother for years lived in one of the units, and you could throw a rock from her back door into the creek that he jumped into. Needless to say it changed our lives forever. There is not a day goes by that I do not think about that fateful day and the consequences of it. It is one of the two things that I would change if I could. I would have never left the house that morning.
I remember the day explicitly when I got the call to return to Bend that something was wrong. It came from Jim and Kathy Drew who was working for Cheryl and I at the fireplace shop. Sonny and I were down at the rock quarry out of Madras, I was going to buy it and ship that pink slab rock around the country down on the Columbia River. I had Sonny drive and stopped and got the old trusty 6 pack of Blitz to get me back to Bend. I remember going up to the hospital and meeting with Doctor Moody who gave me the news. Cheryl was there, we went in and spent some time with Brad, tough deal, let me tell you. But since then, I have grown to understand that life throws many a curve and this was one that was our turn I guess.
After burying Brad, which Mike Knowland, Sonny Gihon and I did ourselves, we moved out to Mike’s house in Tumalo.
19 August 1974 Cameron, our second son, was born there in Bend while we were living in Mike’s house out in Tumalo. We sold the business, pretty much gave it away; in fact the remnants of it are still in business today there in Bend. We went to Alaska to try to let some time pass. I bought a used Ford truck with a camper on it and we took off. If I am not mistaken, during this period of time, I had gotten two more DUI’s. Which would make three up to this time all together.
MAY 1975 We left for Alaska Memorial Day Weekend. My father and mother had gotten divorced and Jay had moved to Alaska with a new wife. So to try to quell the rage and the hurt over Brad drowning we took off for Alaska. We traveled through Idaho, Montana, Saskatchewan, Alberta, British Columbia, Yukon Territory and finally got to Alaska.
My good friend Mike Knowland had also moved to Alaska starting what turned out to be a very successful printing business that he many years later sold. Alaska was good to Mike and his ex- Sue. A quick story about Susan. At the time I met Mike up at Central Oregon College and at a party, one of many, we both met Susan at the same time. As men do, we flipped a coin for her, literally. He won, I lost. He ended up marrying her, having 2 great kids, and unfortunately as marriages go these days it did not last.
Too much craziness. But those two people saved my life many a time, never turned me away from their door or their table and helped me many times get thru some tough periods in my life.. I can literally say, if it was not for them, I would not be alive today.
3 December, 1975 Angie, the oldest daughter was born there in Anchorage, Alaska.
1976 We spent only a little over a year in Anchorage, I never really adapted, kept drinking and it was not the worst of times but not the best of times. I did construction and started a painting business, one of three in Anchorage at that time. It was very successful. It was another missed opportunity. I basically gave the Harvey’s painting business away to a couple of guys I picked up hitchhiking to Anchorage. Harvey’s painting was named after a beagle pup we had that I ran over with one of the painting trucks.
AUGUST 1976 We decided to leave Alaska and go to Barton, Oregon to run a race horse ranch for a family that owned a large rock quarry and excavation business. It was called Rolling Acres Quarter Horse Ranch. We stayed in Barton, Oregon only a short period of time. I actually met the step son of the owner in a bar there in Anchorage, and he happened to mention that his step father was looking for someone to help run the horse ranch. Well, since Cheryl liked horses, sounded like a good deal. Unfortunately, “help run” turned out to be, needing someone to help shovel the stalls and fix the fences. I just could not adapt to working for somebody else, besides shoveling horse shit wasn’t my idea of work.
DECEMBER 1976 I took Cam one day and loaded up the truck and camper and took off for Eastern Oregon. Moving back to Bend was not even considered, for obvious reasons. I look back on that and it was probably a missed opportunity once again, because of family ties, the opportunities and the things that I probably could have done there in Bend with the growth that has happened. However, we ended up in Fossil, Oregon; we fell in awe of the place. Any of you that have been to Fossil should be able to relate to the peace and quite and the quality of life that one can have there.
We pulled into Fossil, unannounced with no idea what the outcome was going to be, lock stock and barrel, horse in tow and the two kids.
We ended up at the Fossil, Motel. I can still see John Putnam, the owner and long time resident of the Fossil area looking out of his kitchen window, wondering who the Oakies were pulling into his place. Four maybe five shots of Brandy later and about an hour of sitting at his kitchen table, while Cheryl and the two kids sat in the truck waiting for me, horse in the back of the big moving truck, dog panting, I had bought the Fossil Motel, with money borrowed from Mr. Putnam. It is a true story.
We remodeled the other house on the place, cleaned it up, re-did a lot of things, and actually turned into enough of a revenue producing place to make a living. We sold potted flowers in the spring; I did some construction work on the side and even had a little construction business. It was in hind sight a very quality of life type of situation. But as usual, the alcohol played a big part in my life. Sonny Gihon, was with me at the time and we had an awful lot of fun. In fact, it was down right crazy. I managed to get elected Mayor of Fossil, I think by 13 votes. During the time there, we bought a lot of property and ended owning quite a bit of property. We had 200 head of sheep, which produced about 400 lambs for market and grew some alfalfa.
At that time the sheep industry was still somewhat strong in that area, but eventually died out and I do not think there is one sheep ranch left around Fossil. Cheryl and I and another couple got a couple hundred head of sheep.
In Fossil I was arrested twice for tampering with a public utility as the mayor. Once for tapping into the town’s main water system to fill up a pond on the acreage for a large June Boy’s party. I think it was the 17th annual and last one. Both Mike and Sonny’s birthdays were in June and for 17 years we had a June Boys party. The second time for tapping into the TV cable system, because I was too impatient to wait for it to be hooked up. Those two things did not do me in.
One night we went trapping shooting up at the trap club, which we did a lot of in the summer time. Too many beers were consumed and I ended up in the only bar in the area The Shamrock Lounge and got into an argument with a gentleman about why all the streets weren’t paved.
He was blaming me as the mayor the dust was bad on his street. What he did not know, was I had it set up to receive some grants to get some paving done. He would not leave me alone. So I threatened to go to his house to burn it down, and then he would not have to worry about the dust. One thing led to another and I jumped up on the bar and pissed on the bar where he was sitting. Needless to say that did not go over very well. What I did not know, is at the time there was a woman reporter from the East Oregonian Newspaper in the bar passing thru. She commenced to give me a bad time; I chased her out of the bar into her car, and jumped upon her hood and commenced to wash the windshield with another dose of piss. To this day, even as inebriated as I was, I can still see the windshield wipers going a hundred miles an hour.
At that time, Sonny and I were working in Pendleton building some apartments and on the way there on Monday, we noticed in the paper, the headlines read, “Mayor of Fossil Urinates on Shamrock Lounge”. The notice of resignation was on its way to the city council, the town just couldn’t take any more.
A couple of side notes about Fossil. Great place and it still is. I would make bi-weekly trips to Bend for supplies for the motel, which included a bi-monthly allotment of discontinued beer from Del Shultke that had the Olympia distributorship of about 15 cases every trip. Dell would sell me the beer for $2.00 a case and with the return money, I think I was paying at that time about 50 cents a case.
On one trip to Bend, I stopped in Madras on the way back to see a fellow by the name of Doug Luelleing whom I had gone to the University of Oregon with. He was a doctor there in Madras. I asked him if he would give me a vasectomy and he said sure. He did it right there on the spot and I went on home.
I ended up in my first alcohol treatment center while in Fossil, at the Care Center at the Hospital in Redmond. It did not work and subsequently it was another 3 treatment centers for me, one out patient alcohol treatment center in Anchorage, a month in the Psychiatric Hospital in Anchorage, the VA Hospital in Roseburg and none of them got me sober. I was not to get sober for years to come. Sad how much of my life went by before I got it.
Another thing that means a lot to me that happened in Fossil is I started to river raft. I floated the John Day River by myself, the first trip I had ever done. Mike and I also did the final trip with the State of Oregon and Department of Interior when they designated that section of the John Day River as a Wild and Scenic River. I have done a tremendous amount of river rafting since then.
I left for a while to go back to Alaska to do an 1800 mile trip with my Dad and Mike Knowland on the Yukon. Mike and my Dad had become good friends.
SEPTEMBER 1980 LABOR DAY WEEKEND Cheryl, the kids and I moved to Big Fork, Montana out of Fossil in a 5th wheel trailer I had got from John Putnam, the owner of the Motel after my resignation as Mayor. John Putnam ended up passing away in his bath tub, in his house at the Motel several years later. He was the guy who taught me how to tell the world to kiss my ass. He was a very good man, straight and had no problem telling you how it was or how it should be. Never knew him to be wrong pretty much about anything.
Once again I tried to get sober. I worked construction on some condos there is Big Fork while studying for my Real Estate License. We rented a very nice house just off of Flathead Lake. I got my Montana Real Estate License and went to work for an older gentleman who said I could have his business after a year or so. He was very established there in Big Fork. Another missed opportunity.
MAY 1981 on a snowy afternoon and I hitch hiked to Missoula, Montana and caught a plane to Anchorage once again. I ended up doing construction and eventually got my real estate salesman’s license.
JULY 1981 I went back to Portland and we packed up and moved to Camas, Washington for a couple of months, then we moved back across the river to a house in Portland. The only thing I really remember about this time, is two cops showed up at the door one day. They had a warrant for my arrest for a bad check, a $100 check that I had bounced at the grocery store in Big Fork, Montana the day I left several months before. I guess the manager of the grocery store wasn’t going to let me skate on that one. I think Mike Knowland’s brother George bailed me out and posted Bond. My Dad paid my fine. I am surprised after everything I had been thru and put everyone thru they didn’t leave me in jail.
By now I hope you are getting the picture. I was not a model for stability. I kept moving. I never stayed in one place very long, nor did I work at any one thing very long. It is still the same today. Exactly, I just have more control over my life now that I am sober. Other than that, nothing has changed. That is becoming very clear.
December 1981 I moved back to Anchorage and continued to party, attack the bars and just over all did not improve my lot at all.
JULY 1982 Cheryl and the kids were hit head on by a drunk driver near the Portland Airport. It was a bad set of circumstances. Cam was injured, bad enough that they told me he might not live. I came back immediately to Portland, spent some time with them in the hospital, and should have stayed with them, but I didn’t. Do not ask me why. It is something that I just do not understand about my thinking and the way I lived my life during those times. It completely baffles me, but it all has to come down to living a complete and total life of insanity.
July 1983 We moved back to Anchorage. I had somewhat got my life together, was on the verge of becoming a very successful real estate sales person in Anchorage. My first real estate salesman’s job was with a company called Red Carpet Redoubt Realty, which is where the nick named Pinky got coined.
I also worked for a company called ERA Crown Realty. It had about 26 agents I believe. I ended up listing and selling for two years in a row, more dollar volume combined than all of the other 25 agents. They fired me the following year. Drinker and couldn’t be trusted. I could be trusted, but they were right on the first account.
MAY 1984 One thing led to another and we left Alaska again, moved to Bend and I commuted back and forth for a year or so. I think I flew 30 sometimes one way in one year. At Christmas time Cheryl finally divorced me.
It did not get any better and I ended up in Tualatin, Oregon, working for the Bank of Tualatin as a mortgage officer. Remember this, because later on in the next couple of years there is a funny story about this bank when I end up in Napa, California with Debbie. The job as a mortgage officer didn’t work either.
I put myself on anti-buse to try and help me to not drink. I drank any way and ended up in the hospital, close to having a heart attack from the reaction to the drug. All in all, I think I was in hospitals about 4 times for overdosing on alcohol over the years. Sheer hell for me and all of those around me, but it just kept going on.
I left the bank, drove to Bend in an old Ford I was driving at the time, to say goodbye to the kids and was on my way to San Felipe, Mexico where I had spent some time in the past. I ended up in Fallbrook, CA with another friend by the name of Royce Glorioso. I did not make it to San Felipe this time but spent some time around there, construction, tried the mortgage business again and it still was not getting any better. I came close to committing suicide there for about the third time. In fact, I have not owned a gun since then.
Nothing worked for me. I ended up on the beach at Cardiff by the Sea, in a tent that I had purchased from the Bagwan’s over in Antelope at about the time they left the country. It was not a bad time in my life. No bills, just the $8 dollars a day to camp, stayed there close to 6 months. Worked construction in the area and always seemed to get by. Spent a lot of time in San Philipe, Mexico during this time and tried to get sober once again, just did not work. I worked construction, tried the mortgage business again and just kept right on drinking.
I remember a lot about that 6 months living on the beach. But the thing that I remember the most vividly is it was so bad one time, that I remember having to make a decision with the little bit of money at a particular time was either to buy a beer at the 7-11 or make a phone call for help . I bought the beer.
I met a lady from San Francisco named Joan, who was the accountant for the San Francisco Music Box Company, still have one of there train music boxes here in the cabin sitting next to me, am looking at it right now. Met her at one of the beach bars, one thing led to another, and I was living on the 17th floor of the Embarqudaro Towers, in the Financial District of San Francisco looking out at the Clock and the Bay Bridge. The lap of luxury as good as it gets. It was a long ways from sitting in that tent on the beach at Cardiff by the Sea.
I worked construction in Madera on some condos and really tried to fit in and get sober. Once again, it didn’t work. I came home one night after stopping for the customary beers at the friendly tavern and all of my stuff was sitting out in the hallway in black plastic bags. I think the only thing I ended up missing about that time was she made one hell of a Lobster Bisque, she always had fresh exotic flowers from the Flower Mart and best of all she kept the liquor cabinet full.
I moved to Mill Valley and moved in with another friend of mine Chris Knoll who had a great house on a hill. Chris is from Bend and spent some time with us in Alaska, with his brother Greg who is in the Dallas as a builder and has a great family. It was tough for me, depressed all of the time, drinking all of the time, so once again I made a good stab at getting sober and managed to start attending AA Meetings for the 100th time and actually started to get some halfway quality sobriety time.
I spent some time up at the Sea Ranch, helping an ex-49er quarterback build a second home. I wish I could remember his name, but do not, probably could track it down. He was a great guy and it was a good time. I also spent some time in Danville working in the Blackhawk Ranch. Sonny at this time was around and we worked for a company that did concrete, foundations, etc in Blackhawk out of Danville. We ended up doing a foundation for John Madden the football commentator, did the house for the Monroe Shock family, that also was an interesting time.
On the weekends I would go to Clear Lake which is up out of the Napa Valley, not a long drive from Mill Valley to get away. I was sober, needed to keep busy, like to get away and it helped fill in the days between Friday and Monday.