Bright blue eyes, a solid square jaw and a ready smile met me in the front lobby of The Gardens at Wesley Homes in Des Moines.

After a few minutes of talking with 961/2-year-old Richard Bruce, I would say that tragedy and triumph pretty much describes the life of this lovely old gentleman.

The phenomenal part is that he remembers it all.

He talked of being two years old-- remembering the horse-drawn milk wagons in West Seattle and a skateboard made from a disassembled skate that was nailed to a 2x4 and an apple box, with sticks to steer the contraption.

He lived the life of an early version of Spanky and Our Gang.

"We lived close to the fire station. They had the horse-drawn rigs and the horse droppings became quite a thing. There was a funny story about a kid who emptied out the toys from his little brother's stocking and put horse droppings in it. When the kid saw the droppings on Christmas morning, he said, "I think I got a pony, but he must have gotten away."

I couldn't tell whether Richard was spoofing me or not.

He also told about the old closets with windows.

"One time, when I was bad, Mom locked me in the closet. When she let me out, I said, "I spit on your clothes and I'm saving more spit!" I imagine that encouraged a new type of punishment!

"I had great liberty as a kid, and wonderful parents. Some of the best years were when we lived near Haller Lake.

"There were no roads out there at the time. I loved to swim - the feeling of being free. No wrong could be done and I did it all," a big smile came over his face as though he were a kid again.

"I sold papers on the corner for two cents, back then." At that he bellowed out his sales pitch, which named the whole string of papers that he sold.

I think it tickled him that he remembered, because he gave me a proud grin.

When I probed him for more memories, he said, "Oh, I've had lots of things happen to me. I once got locked in a big hoop skirt box, stepped in a red ant hill, hung upside down in a fence and almost got my head chopped off by a prop, when another pilot landed his plane on top of mine."

His love of airplanes started when he saw his first airborne plane at four years old.

"I wanted to be a pilot, right then and there. I had my first ride in 1928 at Boeing field. It cost $3.50 for five minutes.

"I joined the gliding club in 1930 and joined the Navy in 1935. I was a radioman on the flagship of the Asiatic Fleet and then was an instructor from 1941 to 1944 with floatplanes to primary aircraft."

In 1942, he married and he and his wife adopted three little sisters. However, 6 1/2 months later his wife died, so he raised the girls solo.
Nine years later, he remarried and had another daughter. It's no surprise that Richard was surrounded by females, as he's the type of man that most women dream about.

He's lived in Paris, speaks French and can write Spanish, rode a Harley until he was 92, still works out three days a week at the gym, and writes poetry and has dealt with heartaches and tough times without ever giving up on himself or his family.

I asked him what he sees as the biggest difference from when he grew up.

With sadness in his eyes, he said, "Electronics. Kids know how to fool around with electronics, but don't know how to play. It's stolen their childhood."

One of his regrets is that he never got to fly in a sailplane.

Well, knowing Richard, he may very well make it happen, as I'd say that he has more than a few good years left.

Des Moines resident Lee Ryan is an actor, creative writer and voice talent. She can be reached in care of hteditor@robinsonnews.com.