This post is going to be very different than most of the posts you are used to. As You can see, I am even posting on Saturday, which I normally don't do. Today is different. There will be no funny stories, no puns, no irreverent humor, no sarcasm or wit. This is a different day. My father passed away on Thursday night.
Dad was many things. I was proud of him, although it was clear that I didn't want to take the same path in life that he did. He was an entrepeneur, in the truest sense of the word even though he worked as a manager in a grocery store. His gift of buying and selling real estate and investing was exceptional. His job was a base for his other dealings.
He was a man who could effect others, and mentored others. I still remember many of their names. Stan Johnson, Jim Mille, Neil Bering, Ken Gayer and Larry Armstrong were just a few that dad groomed and mentored. He always saw the potential of a person, and brought that potential out.
Dad was a member of "The Greatest Generation" who fought and won WWII. As a machinist living in Connecticut after Pearl Harbor, dad was working in a job that was deemed necessary for the war effort. He was safe from the draft and going into the military. That wasn't enough for dad, as he wanted to do serve his country to the best of his ability, even if that meant dying for it.
Dad liked flying. He decided to enlist in the U.S.Army Air Corp to become a pilot. Funny thing is that he was a few pounds under weight--dad was a small man at 5'7" and 130 pounds almost all his life--and remembers eating bananas before his physical in order to get up to weight. Dad was always a determined man and would do what it took to get the job done, including eating a hand of bananas to put some pounds on to pass a physical. I remember him telling me about after that physical and that he barely made it by about half a pound, and the results of eating all those bananas. But, he had made it. He passed his physical and was on to army basic, and then on to flight training school.
Dad told many stories about his time in flight training, but there is one that he always came back to. He told and retold this one over and over. It seems as though he was on a solo flight when he was stationed in Florida during his flight training. He was up in a PT 17 biplane doing aerial maneuvers when the cap came off the engine oil tank. Oil came spewing out of the engine and he was pretty much blinded by it. Dad managed to get the plane back on the ground after a heroic fight with the airplane to save it--and him.
Unfortunately, dad didn't make it into the cockpit as he washed out of pilot training. The war was winding down and the need for pilots wasn't as critical as it was, so standards were very high. One small mistake and you failed. Dad moved on to gunnery school and became an armorer on heavy bombers. He never went overseas and spent the duration of the war here in The United States. When Germany surrendered, his unit trained to go to the Pacific, but by the time they were ready to go, Japan surrendered. Dad also built in me a love for airplanes.
Dad was most proudest of his military service. It was a great time in his life. His request is that he be buried in his Air Corp corporal's uniform in the Veteran's Cemetery at Santa Nella, California with full military honors. As it stands now, that request will be granted.
I have many fond memories of Dad. I remember the many baseball games that we went to in Candlestick Park watching the Giants. Oh the stories I have of those trips. How about the time he took me on my one and only "Deep Sea" fishing trip. Everyone on the boat got sea sick except me and I think I caused most of them to get sick because I was continually eating. It was exciting, especially when the captain of the boat let me steer the boat underneath the Golden Gate Bridge.
Our back yard was a great place. We would play catch after he would get home from one of his long, hard days at work. One night, he missed a throw from me which careened off his glove, over the fence and into the neighbor's widow. Crash went the glass. Dad was a little embarrassed and our insurance agent said the he couldn't say that dad was the culprit, so I took the hit. That's OK.
We also set up a badminton court in our back yard. That was fun. I still remember the summer nights of beating the pants off my dad, and him wanting to play one more game so that he could have bragging rights. I let him win a couple.
The back yard was also the place where we would pull up a lawn chair and watch the stars at night. He taught me where the big dipper was and we would look to the night sky for satelites. I had a small telescope that we would gaze at the moon and the planets. You could make out Saturn's rings and the stripes on Jupiter. I miss that.
Life has moved on and things have changed. I have my own family now, and have made memories with my own family. The cycle of life continues
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| Hope you enjoy these pictures Dad. As you can see, you gave me a love for airplanes as well. THANKS! |
and the wheels of time keep moving on. Dad, you have given me many memories which I will cherish. The cycle of life for you has come full circle, but a new journey is about to unfold for you. You will be missed but I wish you the best of luck on that new journey.
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