Kathy - 6 Months and $500 Fine

This past Wednesday started off pretty much like any other day of the Leonzo R.V. Adventure on Steroids… we woke up in a Wal-Mart parking lot and prepared to make our way to San Francisco in order to do a little sightseeing before ultimately ending up in Monterey.

As I fired up the R.V., Kathy plugged the Golden Gate Park into Thelma and let her do the navigating. First mistake… Thelma decides to take us right through the city! It was like driving a camel through the eye of a needle. I’m cutting off cars… stopping in the middle of crosswalks… and taking out small tree limbs with the top of the R.V. Fortunately, we managed to make it to the park without any major catastrophes and no traffic tickets. After eating lunch parked in front of the beach and taking pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge, we stated to head south to Monterey.

Weary of another night in a Wal-Mart parking lot, we decide to splurge on a campground. Kathy – our designated navigator – pulled out our Woodall’s 2008 North American Campground Directory and started looking for a place to stay. She found the Monterey Fairgrounds R.V. Park – full hookups (that’s good) - and after a quick call, she secured an open spot. We were in business!

As we pull up to the R.V. park, I notice a couple of things that seem a little unusual. First of all it appears to be a U.S. Navy facility (the sign says, United States Navy Postgraduate School)… no guard shack, but surrounded by a fence with a code that you have to enter into a keypad to make the gate open. Hey, Kathy called and they said we could come… so I type the code they gave her into the keypad. Nothing happens… I try it again… and again… and again… nothing works. We call the telephone number… it is after 5 p.m. and they are gone for the day. Just as Kathy is hanging up the cell phone, a driver begins to leave through the exit gate. They smile… see that we are having trouble… yell out a different code… I type it in and in we go.

After driving past a couple of government looking buildings, we find the campground, pull into our assigned space, and start setting up. At this point, a nice older man shows up in a golf cart and says, “I assume you have a reservation and are military.” Not exactly sure what he means, tired from a long day of driving, and not too excited about validating our frequent Wal-Mart parking card again, I simply say, “Yes Sir!” Satisfied, with the answer, the man and his mil-spec golf cart roll off into the sunset.

I am now nervous. But I don’t say anything to Kathy… no need to make her worry… besides maybe I misunderstood the guy.

One of the bonuses of staying in a campground is they normally have nice bathrooms… so off I went looking for the bathroom… or should I say head. When I arrive, it is AWESOME – clean, bright, even smells good – kind of like it just passed an inspection. On the way out, I notice a bulletin board which clearly states that this campground is for active duty, reserve, or retired military, their families, or employees of the Department of Defense. I am now very nervous, so I make a beeline for the R.V.

On the way, I see Nicole playing with the dog of another camper. When I stop to get Nicole, what is the first thing the lady says to me? “Are you in the military?” Well, I took a one credit Air Force R.O.T.C. class in college – that ought to count for something – so I said, “I used to be.” Then I told Nicole it was time for dinner, grabbed her hand, and took off to hide in the R.V.

I toss Nicole into the R.V., lock the door, and tell Kathy that we were in deep trouble, that we needed to lay low, and that if anyone asked her about what I did in the military she was supposed to say, “He was special operations… I could tell you what he did… but then I would have to kill you.”

It is at this point, John needs to make a trip to the bathroom. Since John and constipation are not a pleasant combination, I give him strict orders to head directly there… do his business… avoid everyone… and get his butt back in the R.V. What happens? On the way back a person asks John, “Is your Dad in the military?” John says, “My pop was a Marine.” Not technically a lie… it is true my Dad (big Mike) was in the Marines when I was a kid… but not exactly what they were asking.

Fortunately John makes it back with out getting arrested. I am now very, very nervous. So initiate total lockdown! We lock the doors… turn off the lights… go to sleep… and quietly leave at the break of dawn.

Kathy continues to plead innocent. Section of 1382 of Title 18 – United States Code – Trespassing on a U.S. Military Base says otherwise – 6 months imprisonment, a $500 fine, or both.

Anyone interested in corresponding with Kathy in the next 6 months should write:

Inmate Kathleen M. Leonzo
Naval Consolidated Brig, Charlestown
1050 Remount Road, Building 3107
Charleston SC 29406-3515