A LIFE WORTH TREASURING

By PA2 Judy L. Silverstein, Seventh District Public Affairs

WESLEY CHAPEL — Born at the end of World War I, Ronald Coutts' earliest memories include sitting in front of the radio each evening, mesmerized by history unfolding before his very ears.

The long count in the 1927 fight between Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney still plays vividly in the mind of this Wesley Chapel resident.

"Boy, how I cried when Dempsey lost that fight," he says."Gee, that was really something."

Growing up as a boy in Evanston, Ill., his window on the world was limited to broadcasts of voices, music and sound effects.

"Our family sat around our RCA and we plugged in the electric radio to hear 'Amos 'n' Andy' and 'Vic and Sade,' " he says.

Coutts was born in 1919, when ice arrived on a horse-drawn wagon, and customers hung cardboard signs in the window indicating the amount they wanted. Today he treasures the quietude, thickets of Florida foliage and canopies of wide-trunk oaks that drape the acreage on the ranch he shares with his daughter Nancy Ryan, her husband and three young boys.

"It's nearly pastoral, though it's disappearing," he says. Nuzzled by the Arabian horses his daughter raises, he remains active on the ranch though congestive obstructive pulmonary disease limits his vigor. Not one to sit idly, he enjoys gardening and visiting his five children, 13 grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren. He's riveted by crossword puzzles and Coast Guard programs on television.

Coutts' mother, who was widowed before he was 1 year old, ran a catering business, working long hours to support her family.

"I can remember her holding out her hand and saying, "We've got a bag of potatoes and a quarter. We've got to hold out till Monday when I have a $2 job."

The small family moved to the Scottish Highlands to live with his grandparents, the Mackays, for nearly a year in both 1924 and 1931. Days were spent shearing sheep, and fishing for salmon and haddock from a dory on the North Sea. Living in the Viking town of Tubeg Skerray, they cooked meals over a fireplace.

"Everything we cooked tasted like peat," he says. "The Depression affected my family deeply," he recalls, his eyes clouding just a bit. "But in spite of that, my mother felt we had a better life in the States."

Back in Illinois, Coutts graduated high school at 17, and set off to work as an office boy instead of taking advantage of a four-year scholarship to the University of Illinois.

"The $5 I earned each week bought a whole week's supply of groceries," he says. Standing in line, he would watch transfixed as the grocer pulled a pencil out from behind his ear, scribbled the items on a brown paper bag, and totaled them up.

"It was all cash in those days, and hard work," he says.

He recalls occasional dates to see a double feature movie for 25 cents. "It included a Vaudeville act with an elephant," he says, laughing. There were trips in his friend's Model A Ford to hear the big bands led by Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman and Kay Kyser at the Congress Hotel and cafes along Michigan Boulevard in Chicago.

"The 35-mile trips into town meant I nearly broke my arm cranking up the car," he says.

With sailing skills learned as a boat driver for a family in Canada summers during high school, Coutts signed up for a stint with the Coast Guard, in 1942.