As World War II was drawing to a close, he joined the Army Air Corps. The war ended and he never went to the conflict.
He was born in Flippin (in north central Arkansas) in 1928 – the youngest of six children. His father was a talented barrel-maker. I’d never thought too much about what is involved with making wooden barrels, but apparently, to be good, you had to be quite a craftsman! As the Great Depression deepened, it was not a particularly good time to be growing up in America. Raising a family there, under those circumstances, must have been very difficult for his father because they moved to Van Buren, Arkansas – just across the river from Fort Smith. If things were rough then, they were about to get worse. While he attended high school, the war raged in Europe and the Pacific. One brother joined the Army and was an artilleryman in Europe. This was the time of what has been hailed as the “Greatest Generation.” A time of economic struggle, a time of sacrifice and deprivation, a time of war…
Yet, it was also a time of perseverance, victory, and, for the family and the nation…survival.
The family all survived those difficult times, but I never really knew my grandfather, the barrel-maker. There is a faded photo of me, as a baby, being held in his arms, but it wasn’t long afterward that he passed away. I may not have known him, but I did know my Dad.
After the war, the Air Corps split from the Army to become the U.S. Air Force. He was in Korea, when that conflict began, but the Air Force yanked him out, and again, he avoided being embroiled in it. He came home for a time and married, and I was born a little over nine months later at Scott Air Force Base, Illinois. We moved frequently with his assignments. By age 13, I had lived in Europe half again as much as the U.S.
Dad worked hard to insure a close family relationship. I never knew exactly what he did for the Air Force, but I do know he was TDY (temporary duty) all over the world – a lot! He couldn’t discuss what he did, so when we were together, only the social side of his work came up. His choices strongly influenced my life and I got to see things and visit places most people never even dream of. He retired, having also missed the Vietnam conflict. His timing was impeccable!
I don’t know his exact IQ, but I know it was very high and he always challenged me to think deeply and clearly. He was a wonderful role model and gave me a great start in life! One of my greatest regrets is that while I now have three daughters, two sons-in-law, and three grandchildren, they have no memories of him. Only my oldest daughter has a photo of Dad holding her as a baby. Less than a year later, at the age of 53, he was gone…
As Father’s Day approaches, whatever your relationship, reach out to your father or vice versa. I wish I still could!
CasualComments.com 