Like Chalk And Cheese
Author: Bradley Chapline
April 2024
I met the mother of my only biological child in Hawaii in 1980. Her name is Michi. I was a U.S. Marine stationed at the Kaneohe Bay Marine Corps Air Station. Michi worked for a jewelry company in Honolulu named Maui Divers.
Academically gifted, and equipped with a photographic memory Michi was most likely at the high end of the knowledge spectrum. I was, in fact, somewhere near the opposite end. However, I surely had the capabilities and experience to both manage and succeed in both difficult and/or dangerous situations.
The thought had crossed my mind that the two of us, together, could be a very good team. What was more, there was no doubt we were both having amatory feelings towards each other.
In a span of just twelve weeks we were married. I had a disastrous first marriage, where none of the children born during the entire relationship, through the divorce, were my biological offspring. I wanted my own child. Just one. A short time later, Michi informed me that she was pregnant. I was overjoyed.
Michi and I named our child Nicholas. I was making plans for fatherhood
Profound Thoughts
First and foremost, unlike my own mother and father, I honestly planned on being a good parent to my son. I knew this would mean being an involved parent and that I would always have to be truly present in his life. Additionally, I would need to always be a good role model and have my son’s best interest at heart.
But, I wasn’t trying to fool myself. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I had an extremely turbulent past, and I was certainly thick-skinned.
However, while common sense told me that every child looks to their parents for guidance and support, teaching my son, for example, to be kind and loving was going to put my nature in foreign territory. After all, I was known to periodically possess a cruel disregard for others.
But, I did believe, nevertheless, I could do a good job in being a father to my only child.
The Newborn, Infant, Toddler, And Preschool Years
These were very happy years for the Chapline family. I had essentially grown a connection with my job. Nicholas was clearly developmentally advanced. Michi and I were so proud of him. Our teamwork had paid off in giving our young son a path to changing bad habits into good ones. He was trained in the benefits of changing a bad attitude in gratitude, taught the spirit of politeness and kindness, and to be self-motivated and responsible.
Michi and I both firmly believed we had laid a foundation in our son’s early life that would stay intact for years to com
The School Age Years
At the end of my enlistment contract with the Marines, Michi and I mutually decided to move to Las Vegas, Nevada. She wanted to be close to her mother. However, as far as the Nevada public school system being made available for our son, this would turn out to be an awful mistake.
Over time, I saw our son begin to look tired. Now, on most tasks handed to him at home, he began just not trying to complete the chores at hand, or, he just quit the job. He no longer liked doing things that he once enjoyed.
In Las Vegas’ public schools, a polite, intelligent and responsible young child was not welcome. My son, on a daily basis, was either getting beat up, or harassed by his classmates. When my son would follow my advice and go to his teacher for help, it only made matters worse for him.
For instance, Nicholas was wrongfully placed in remedial reading where teachers had students drawing outlines of their hand. Our son, in fact, had learned to read prior to starting school, therefore, my wife and I knew this was really retaliatory tactics for my son asking for help in keeping classmate bullies at bay. Finally, I decided it was time to teach my son some self-defense and offensive fight tactics.
It wasn’t more than three weeks later when I got a call from school authorities. My son had been accused of attacking another student that resulted in bodily harm. Once I had arrived at his school, I took my son into a private setting and asked him what had happened. He said, “I was standing in line in the hallway just outside the cafeteria. One of my classmates was flicking his finger on the back of my head. I asked him, over and over, to stop. But, he wouldn’t. Finally, I did what you said Dad. I turned around and drove my elbow directly into his nose. He was bleeding a lot”. I believed my son’s account of the fight.
The principal of my son’s school and I were not having a pleasant conversation. He was in the process of having my son suspended from school for a period of one week. I was telling the principal that my son is bullied again in his school, I will come directly after him. The principal asked if I was issuing him a threat. I replied that I was giving him a solemn promise. When the principal told me that violence must run in our family, I replied, “Damn right it does!”
My wife and I had decided it was time to pull our son out of the public school system and enroll him in a certified home christian school that was certified by the Nevada Department of Education.
Within the next two years, our son had gone from a remedial reading class to being ranked in the top three percentile in his grade level, nationwide. Michi and I thought we had made a brilliant decision in putting Nicholas in home schooling.
However, during the coming years as our son grew into his teen years, the physical and cognitive maturations of our child seemed to become enemies. There was definite trouble on the horizon. While my wife and I were working long hours, our son was at home, becoming racked with loneliness. Michi and I both knew we had to do something for our son.
We both encouraged Nicholas to sign up for a local long distance intramural race. I promised to coach him in some training sessions. Amazingly, having no experience or professional training, our son qualified for the regional marathon events that were to be held in Southern California. While I was still Nicholas’ coach, I knew I wasn’t qualified to properly train my son in an advanced event such as this run. Therefore, I never expected my son to place anywhere near the top of those standings. But, I did expect him to complete the race, no matter how long it took him.
After just ten minutes into the marathon, on an uphill part of the course, Nicholas quit running. He then walked off the course. I was infuriated with him. I was yelling curse words into his face. I labeled him as a quitter. However, my wife and a family friend came to Nicholas’ defense. This was truly the incident that started the Chapline family battle that would rage on for the coming years.
Nicholas resorted to hiding behind his mother in hopefully avoiding my tough disciplining of him. This only further lessened my opinion of my son. I had now lost all of my self-made promises to be a good father. While an array of armistices qwew made between my son and I, none of them lasted very long.
At the age of sixteen, Nicholas wanted to get a part time job while still in school. While Michi wanted to give him permission, I was against the idea. I believed my son would be easily influenced by troublemakers. However, I grudgingly gave my okay to Nicholas working part time in a local grocery store.
But, I was right. Within the span of a few weeks at his job, all of his purities as a child were now gone. Nicholas was drinking beer and smoking cigarettes with his new found friends. I then learned that Nicholas’ virginity was taken by an older married woman who was well known to be promiscuous. I also received information that my son was involved in an act of property damage at a local church being built. Next, after Nicholas had made some disrespectful remarks to me, I took him out to my car and drove him to a remote location in the desert. After dragging him out of my car, I told him, “Today, one of us is going to die. I’m fed up with you!” I knew there would be no witnesses as to what was about to take place between my son and I.
But, after I had humiliated my son, I took him back home. However, there were no improvements in my son’s attitude. In fact, if anything, his behavior became worse than ever.
Approximately two weeks after our desert face-off, my son’s so-called girlfriend came knocking at my door. My wife and son were not home. When I opened the front door, his girlfriend made a sexual innuendo and leaned forward towards me exposing the whole of her decolletage.
Immediately, I told her to get off my property and never come back. I now had just cause to believe Nicholas may have been attempting to set me up.
After my son received his high school graduation certificate, I told him,”There is nothing more I can do for you. Pack up your belongings and get out of my house. While this action on my part erupted a huge argument between Michi and I, she finally agreed to have Nicholas move out to be on his own.
At Last, Freedom
Nicholas had a wide grin on his face as he was moving out of our house. His replacement mother stood outside her van keeping watch over her new tenant. But, according to the information I had received, his so-called friends had stolen everything of value from him. Nicholas wanted to come back home. I denied his request. I made it clear he would not be allowed to come back home until he had earned his way back.
The next information I received was that my son had physically damaged himself. He was rescued in a nearby flood channel. Again, my son requested to come home. And, once again, I denied his request.
Army Life
After my son apparently gave his injuries time to heal, he had signed up to join the Army. I was shocked when he signed on for a big bonus that would potentially put him in the most dangerous occupation the Army had to offer. He wanted to be in the 82nd Airborne as a forward observer. I figured there would be little chance of my son completing all the rigorous training that he would face over the coming months.
But, to amazement, my son had graduated not only parachute school, but, as well, completed both artillery observer and artillery spotter training.
Shortly thereafter, the 911 attacks on American soil rocked our country. America was about to go to war. Nicholas was concerned. But, I was indifferent when I said, “Well, you signed up for this, now it's time for you to go do your job.”
But, I now decided it was time to allow Nicholas to come home on leave. It became important to me that my son and his mother spend time together before his likely deployment to an overseas combat zone.
While Nicholas was deployed in both Iraq and Afghanistan, I wasn’t aware of any serious problems Nicholas was having with his fellow soldiers. But, then I received a message from Nicholas asking for my help.
He had ratted-out his roommate to someone in his chain of command about illicit drugs being hidden in his private area of their room. Scared that he could well be busted for possession of illicit drugs that were not his, Nicholas was being labeled a narc, while having his life threatened by his fellow soldiers.
I knew from my experiences in the Marine Corps that narcs in the rank and file were oftentimes murdered. I determined any help I would try to provide my son, such as contacting government authorities in the states would only make matters more dangerous for my son. I figured my son’s best chances of survival in this already unpredictable situation was to keep his mouth shut and take the comeuppance that the troop rank and file in the Airborne unit believed he had coming.
Returning To Civilian Life
The transition to civilian life from the military was not a simple process for my son. At best, he was struggling. My son had anger issues, and this caused problems in both his work and personal life.
Our son became engaged to a young Arab woman. Nicholas invited me, his mother and grandmother to their wedding. I went against my better judgment and accepted his invitation. I got dragged into their many domestic disputes which I unsuccessfully tried to mediate. I discovered there was not only physical violence in their marriage, but there were acts of infidelity that brought those situations to a head.
And then, I discovered that the father of his wife was an escapee from the federal prison system. Nicholas’ wife had been harboring him.
As a final straw, I had informed my son, immediately, when his wife had purposely exposed her breasts to me. In return, I told my son that he was never to bring any of his girlfriends around me ever again. I disengaged myself from my son’s life. However, Nicholas’ mother did not.
Months later,while still disconnected from my son, my wife informed me that our son was married to a young woman from Serbia. She said we were not invited to the wedding because of what I had said to my son about keeping his women far away from me. I was okay with that. Apparently, my wife was not.
But, I slowly gave in, and began to get to know his Serbian wife. In time, I thought, finally, my son made a good choice in a woman.
Epilogue
I’ve believed for years that my son’s driving motivation in life was to overshadow me. I didn’t view this as a bad thing. After all, my son grew up to be a much better educated man than I was. He became industrious, and certainly was a better husband and father than I could have ever been.
So, I do admit that I was not a good father since the time I had vacated all my promises to be a good father to my son. But, in contrast, I do believe I had valid reasons in disentangling myself from fatherhood.
That is, until my son, years after the failed marathon in Southern California, told his mother that an Army doctor had diagnosed him with a shoemaker’s chest.
However, I still did not fully believe I was at fault in my relationship crumbling with my son.
But, after I had completed my own research on a shoemaker’s chest, I sat for a period of time in total shock. Commonly known as a collapsed chest, that occurs at birth, the most common physical symptoms of a shoemaker’s chest are respiratory problems due to the pressure on the lungs and heart. Additionally, there is chest pain and shortness of breath that are also common occurrences with a shoemaker’s chest. Plus, where there is cardiac pressure, it is then possible for heart rhythm disturbances.
All of this makes it likely why my son could not run that grueling long distance marathon in Southern California when he was a youngster.
Many of the troubles and trauma over the years in our family could have, and should have been avoided if I had only done what a good father should have when my kid gave up on the marathon prematurely. I should have taken my son to a doctor to be examined and evaluated.
The ending facts are, I caused the “Chalk and Cheese” label in the relationship with my son. I’m certainly glad he has been strong enough to survive it all.
I’m also thankful that my son has allowed me to reestablish a relationship with him.
Return To Main Page
www.bradleychapline.com/
Author: Bradley Chapline
April 2024
I met the mother of my only biological child in Hawaii in 1980. Her name is Michi. I was a U.S. Marine stationed at the Kaneohe Bay Marine Corps Air Station. Michi worked for a jewelry company in Honolulu named Maui Divers.
Academically gifted, and equipped with a photographic memory Michi was most likely at the high end of the knowledge spectrum. I was, in fact, somewhere near the opposite end. However, I surely had the capabilities and experience to both manage and succeed in both difficult and/or dangerous situations.
The thought had crossed my mind that the two of us, together, could be a very good team. What was more, there was no doubt we were both having amatory feelings towards each other.
In a span of just twelve weeks we were married. I had a disastrous first marriage, where none of the children born during the entire relationship, through the divorce, were my biological offspring. I wanted my own child. Just one. A short time later, Michi informed me that she was pregnant. I was overjoyed.
Michi and I named our child Nicholas. I was making plans for fatherhood
Profound Thoughts
First and foremost, unlike my own mother and father, I honestly planned on being a good parent to my son. I knew this would mean being an involved parent and that I would always have to be truly present in his life. Additionally, I would need to always be a good role model and have my son’s best interest at heart.
But, I wasn’t trying to fool myself. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I had an extremely turbulent past, and I was certainly thick-skinned.
However, while common sense told me that every child looks to their parents for guidance and support, teaching my son, for example, to be kind and loving was going to put my nature in foreign territory. After all, I was known to periodically possess a cruel disregard for others.
But, I did believe, nevertheless, I could do a good job in being a father to my only child.
The Newborn, Infant, Toddler, And Preschool Years
These were very happy years for the Chapline family. I had essentially grown a connection with my job. Nicholas was clearly developmentally advanced. Michi and I were so proud of him. Our teamwork had paid off in giving our young son a path to changing bad habits into good ones. He was trained in the benefits of changing a bad attitude in gratitude, taught the spirit of politeness and kindness, and to be self-motivated and responsible.
Michi and I both firmly believed we had laid a foundation in our son’s early life that would stay intact for years to com
The School Age Years
At the end of my enlistment contract with the Marines, Michi and I mutually decided to move to Las Vegas, Nevada. She wanted to be close to her mother. However, as far as the Nevada public school system being made available for our son, this would turn out to be an awful mistake.
Over time, I saw our son begin to look tired. Now, on most tasks handed to him at home, he began just not trying to complete the chores at hand, or, he just quit the job. He no longer liked doing things that he once enjoyed.
In Las Vegas’ public schools, a polite, intelligent and responsible young child was not welcome. My son, on a daily basis, was either getting beat up, or harassed by his classmates. When my son would follow my advice and go to his teacher for help, it only made matters worse for him.
For instance, Nicholas was wrongfully placed in remedial reading where teachers had students drawing outlines of their hand. Our son, in fact, had learned to read prior to starting school, therefore, my wife and I knew this was really retaliatory tactics for my son asking for help in keeping classmate bullies at bay. Finally, I decided it was time to teach my son some self-defense and offensive fight tactics.
It wasn’t more than three weeks later when I got a call from school authorities. My son had been accused of attacking another student that resulted in bodily harm. Once I had arrived at his school, I took my son into a private setting and asked him what had happened. He said, “I was standing in line in the hallway just outside the cafeteria. One of my classmates was flicking his finger on the back of my head. I asked him, over and over, to stop. But, he wouldn’t. Finally, I did what you said Dad. I turned around and drove my elbow directly into his nose. He was bleeding a lot”. I believed my son’s account of the fight.
The principal of my son’s school and I were not having a pleasant conversation. He was in the process of having my son suspended from school for a period of one week. I was telling the principal that my son is bullied again in his school, I will come directly after him. The principal asked if I was issuing him a threat. I replied that I was giving him a solemn promise. When the principal told me that violence must run in our family, I replied, “Damn right it does!”
My wife and I had decided it was time to pull our son out of the public school system and enroll him in a certified home christian school that was certified by the Nevada Department of Education.
Within the next two years, our son had gone from a remedial reading class to being ranked in the top three percentile in his grade level, nationwide. Michi and I thought we had made a brilliant decision in putting Nicholas in home schooling.
However, during the coming years as our son grew into his teen years, the physical and cognitive maturations of our child seemed to become enemies. There was definite trouble on the horizon. While my wife and I were working long hours, our son was at home, becoming racked with loneliness. Michi and I both knew we had to do something for our son.
We both encouraged Nicholas to sign up for a local long distance intramural race. I promised to coach him in some training sessions. Amazingly, having no experience or professional training, our son qualified for the regional marathon events that were to be held in Southern California. While I was still Nicholas’ coach, I knew I wasn’t qualified to properly train my son in an advanced event such as this run. Therefore, I never expected my son to place anywhere near the top of those standings. But, I did expect him to complete the race, no matter how long it took him.
After just ten minutes into the marathon, on an uphill part of the course, Nicholas quit running. He then walked off the course. I was infuriated with him. I was yelling curse words into his face. I labeled him as a quitter. However, my wife and a family friend came to Nicholas’ defense. This was truly the incident that started the Chapline family battle that would rage on for the coming years.
Nicholas resorted to hiding behind his mother in hopefully avoiding my tough disciplining of him. This only further lessened my opinion of my son. I had now lost all of my self-made promises to be a good father. While an array of armistices qwew made between my son and I, none of them lasted very long.
At the age of sixteen, Nicholas wanted to get a part time job while still in school. While Michi wanted to give him permission, I was against the idea. I believed my son would be easily influenced by troublemakers. However, I grudgingly gave my okay to Nicholas working part time in a local grocery store.
But, I was right. Within the span of a few weeks at his job, all of his purities as a child were now gone. Nicholas was drinking beer and smoking cigarettes with his new found friends. I then learned that Nicholas’ virginity was taken by an older married woman who was well known to be promiscuous. I also received information that my son was involved in an act of property damage at a local church being built. Next, after Nicholas had made some disrespectful remarks to me, I took him out to my car and drove him to a remote location in the desert. After dragging him out of my car, I told him, “Today, one of us is going to die. I’m fed up with you!” I knew there would be no witnesses as to what was about to take place between my son and I.
But, after I had humiliated my son, I took him back home. However, there were no improvements in my son’s attitude. In fact, if anything, his behavior became worse than ever.
Approximately two weeks after our desert face-off, my son’s so-called girlfriend came knocking at my door. My wife and son were not home. When I opened the front door, his girlfriend made a sexual innuendo and leaned forward towards me exposing the whole of her decolletage.
Immediately, I told her to get off my property and never come back. I now had just cause to believe Nicholas may have been attempting to set me up.
After my son received his high school graduation certificate, I told him,”There is nothing more I can do for you. Pack up your belongings and get out of my house. While this action on my part erupted a huge argument between Michi and I, she finally agreed to have Nicholas move out to be on his own.
At Last, Freedom
Nicholas had a wide grin on his face as he was moving out of our house. His replacement mother stood outside her van keeping watch over her new tenant. But, according to the information I had received, his so-called friends had stolen everything of value from him. Nicholas wanted to come back home. I denied his request. I made it clear he would not be allowed to come back home until he had earned his way back.
The next information I received was that my son had physically damaged himself. He was rescued in a nearby flood channel. Again, my son requested to come home. And, once again, I denied his request.
Army Life
After my son apparently gave his injuries time to heal, he had signed up to join the Army. I was shocked when he signed on for a big bonus that would potentially put him in the most dangerous occupation the Army had to offer. He wanted to be in the 82nd Airborne as a forward observer. I figured there would be little chance of my son completing all the rigorous training that he would face over the coming months.
But, to amazement, my son had graduated not only parachute school, but, as well, completed both artillery observer and artillery spotter training.
Shortly thereafter, the 911 attacks on American soil rocked our country. America was about to go to war. Nicholas was concerned. But, I was indifferent when I said, “Well, you signed up for this, now it's time for you to go do your job.”
But, I now decided it was time to allow Nicholas to come home on leave. It became important to me that my son and his mother spend time together before his likely deployment to an overseas combat zone.
While Nicholas was deployed in both Iraq and Afghanistan, I wasn’t aware of any serious problems Nicholas was having with his fellow soldiers. But, then I received a message from Nicholas asking for my help.
He had ratted-out his roommate to someone in his chain of command about illicit drugs being hidden in his private area of their room. Scared that he could well be busted for possession of illicit drugs that were not his, Nicholas was being labeled a narc, while having his life threatened by his fellow soldiers.
I knew from my experiences in the Marine Corps that narcs in the rank and file were oftentimes murdered. I determined any help I would try to provide my son, such as contacting government authorities in the states would only make matters more dangerous for my son. I figured my son’s best chances of survival in this already unpredictable situation was to keep his mouth shut and take the comeuppance that the troop rank and file in the Airborne unit believed he had coming.
Returning To Civilian Life
The transition to civilian life from the military was not a simple process for my son. At best, he was struggling. My son had anger issues, and this caused problems in both his work and personal life.
Our son became engaged to a young Arab woman. Nicholas invited me, his mother and grandmother to their wedding. I went against my better judgment and accepted his invitation. I got dragged into their many domestic disputes which I unsuccessfully tried to mediate. I discovered there was not only physical violence in their marriage, but there were acts of infidelity that brought those situations to a head.
And then, I discovered that the father of his wife was an escapee from the federal prison system. Nicholas’ wife had been harboring him.
As a final straw, I had informed my son, immediately, when his wife had purposely exposed her breasts to me. In return, I told my son that he was never to bring any of his girlfriends around me ever again. I disengaged myself from my son’s life. However, Nicholas’ mother did not.
Months later,while still disconnected from my son, my wife informed me that our son was married to a young woman from Serbia. She said we were not invited to the wedding because of what I had said to my son about keeping his women far away from me. I was okay with that. Apparently, my wife was not.
But, I slowly gave in, and began to get to know his Serbian wife. In time, I thought, finally, my son made a good choice in a woman.
Epilogue
I’ve believed for years that my son’s driving motivation in life was to overshadow me. I didn’t view this as a bad thing. After all, my son grew up to be a much better educated man than I was. He became industrious, and certainly was a better husband and father than I could have ever been.
So, I do admit that I was not a good father since the time I had vacated all my promises to be a good father to my son. But, in contrast, I do believe I had valid reasons in disentangling myself from fatherhood.
That is, until my son, years after the failed marathon in Southern California, told his mother that an Army doctor had diagnosed him with a shoemaker’s chest.
However, I still did not fully believe I was at fault in my relationship crumbling with my son.
But, after I had completed my own research on a shoemaker’s chest, I sat for a period of time in total shock. Commonly known as a collapsed chest, that occurs at birth, the most common physical symptoms of a shoemaker’s chest are respiratory problems due to the pressure on the lungs and heart. Additionally, there is chest pain and shortness of breath that are also common occurrences with a shoemaker’s chest. Plus, where there is cardiac pressure, it is then possible for heart rhythm disturbances.
All of this makes it likely why my son could not run that grueling long distance marathon in Southern California when he was a youngster.
Many of the troubles and trauma over the years in our family could have, and should have been avoided if I had only done what a good father should have when my kid gave up on the marathon prematurely. I should have taken my son to a doctor to be examined and evaluated.
The ending facts are, I caused the “Chalk and Cheese” label in the relationship with my son. I’m certainly glad he has been strong enough to survive it all.
I’m also thankful that my son has allowed me to reestablish a relationship with him.
Return To Main Page
www.bradleychapline.com/