Early Life
Eastwood was born in San Francisco, to Clinton Eastwood, Sr. (1906–70), a steelworker and migrant worker, and Margaret Ruth (Runner) Eastwood (1909–2006), a factory worker. He was nicknamed "Samson" by the hospital nurses as he weighed 11 pounds 6 ounces (5.2 kg) at birth. Eastwood is of English, Irish, Scottish, and Dutch ancestry and was raised in a working class home with his younger sister, Jeanne (born 1934). His family moved often as his father worked at jobs along the West Coast. The family finally settled in Piedmont, California, where Eastwood attended Piedmont Junior High School. Shortly before he was to enter Piedmont High School, he rode his bike on the school's sports field and tore up the wet turf; this resulted in his being asked not to enroll. Instead, he attended Oakland Technical High School, where the drama teachers encouraged him to take part in school plays. However, Eastwood was not interested. He worked at a number of jobs, including lifeguard, paper carrier, grocery clerk, forest firefighter, and golf caddy.
In 1951 during the Korean War, Eastwood learned that the United States Army had drafted and assigned him to Fort Ord in California, where he served as a lifeguard. While on leave in 1951, he was a passenger on a Douglas AD bomber that ran out of fuel and crashed into the ocean near Point Reyes. Escaping from the sinking aircraft, he and the pilot swam 3 miles (5 km) to safety.
Read more about this topic: Clint Eastwood
Famous quotes containing the words early and/or life:
“Here is this vast, savage, howling mother of ours, Nature, lying all around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children, as the leopard; and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society, to that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man,—a sort of breeding in and in, which produces at most a merely English nobility, a civilization destined to have a speedy limit.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“Look, there’s nothing wrong with people being happy, but there’s more to life than turning on and screwing to Ravel’s Bolero.”
—Blake Edwards (b. 1922)