Memorial Day--My Dad





Dad as a baby in Arkansas and a hunk when he met Mom.

I don't know too much about Dad and his service.  I know he was in Italy, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam.  He never talked too much about it. He fell in love with my mom when he was in England.  I have many letters written to his mom and dad in Arkansas were he boasted about his love for my mom before they married and for awhile after they were. 

My Dad was all military.  He signed up and went when he was 16--yes, he lied and said he was 19. 

The Army was first, Mom second, and we kids third.  Tough growing up with that but I managed.  He wasn't around much and that made that list more bearable, I guess.  Looking back, I wish he was around more but you can't change the past.



My Grand Father on Dad's side

He was a good soldier, not so much a good dad.  Mom raised us and did a great job at that.  Dad came back into the picture after Vietnam but he changed.  He used to be the one who disciplined but after Vietnam, he was different.  My brother, a teenager at the time, deliberately disobeyed in a big way in front of him.  This would result in immediate discipline but Dad just sat there almost in a daze.  I knew then that my brother would be trouble and he was and still is.  I had my life separate from my family but visited occasionally.

I am proud of Dad and his service. He was second in line for CSM  (Command Sergeant Major--the enlisted highest rank) of Walter Reed Medical Center and third in line for CSM of the US Army.  Not bad for an enlisted man who joined at 16!  He was awarded a flag that flew over the White House which I have now.  He was quite proud of that flag.

He had honor, respect and admiration for this nation and it would pain him to see what it is now.  The day John F. Kennedy was shot was the first time in my life that I saw him cry.  He held his emotions in, something that I adopted until I came to Oregon. Edna, my adopted Mom, taught me it was ok to show emotions.



Letters written by Dad to his parents