Veteran's Day

11/11/2016

Today is Veteran's Day and is a day to celebrate all military persons, whether they're alive or have passed away.

My father was in the Air Force for over 30 years.  He was a Master Sargent and his primary responsibility in the Air Force was in the supply department.  During my childhood, we moved five times, which isn't too bad for a family in any of the armed services.

When I was quite young, 3 or so, we lived in England.  We had a home in Liverpool, which is where the Beatles came from.  Who knows, we might have even been neighbors!  We also spent 3 years in France, which allowed us as a family to take amazing summer vacations to Belgium, Holland and Switzerland, just to name a few.  We never went to Germany because Mom was uncomfortable with the East and West division of Berlin.  We were a family of 5 packed in a Renault, which in those days, was about the size of a matchbox car!

Stateside, our first move was to Vandenburg AFB near practically nothing.  Vandenburg was a missile base, and when you left the base, many days you could see the Atlas missiles out of their silos making a huge statement in the sky.  We lived there during the Cuba crisis, and Mom and Dad went through mini drills about how to, if needed, get off the base quickly.  It was a given that none of the men were going to leave with their families, they had to remain on base.  This was a scary time to be a child.  On the plus side, leaving on a base, allowed us kids a certain amount of freedom, that wouldn't have been possible off base.  Buses, driven by Airmen, went through the neighborhoods and would take us to the post exchange (store), movies, library and/or to get ice cream.  Occasionally, during a practice trial of the missiles, one would blow up and bits and pieces of missile metal would fall on the base.  We kids, being kids, thought this was spectacular fun, and picked up those pieces to take home as treasure.

After Vandenburg, we moved to Riverside, which was Dad's last posting.  He worked, again in supply, in a blacked out warehouse that held the parts to the SR-71, which in those days was on a need to know basis.  Dad never talked about his work and we kids never asked.  All we knew was it was a big deal and Dad seemed to love his job.

He retired in 1965 and shortly after his retirement, we left California and moved to Illinois to be close to my grandmother.  I spent the most amazing high school years, in a small school in a small town.  There were about 40 or so of us in the graduating class of 1967.  Everybody knew everybody, and any parties, etc., were open to all of us.  We decorated the homecoming floats, attended pep rallies, decorated the gym for prom and did other fun stuff.  During that time, in Illinois, drugs were unheard of.  A wild night for the boys would include beer and perhaps a bit of racing.  When I look back on this, it was good times.

My Dad was not a war hero.  He had never seen combat as he was stationed in the Philippines during the war.  He was an ordinary man, living an ordinary life.  But in my world, even today, many years since he passed away, Dad was a hero.  He was my hero.  He was kind, funny and not prone to criticize my life decisions.  I know he had to bite his tongue when I married in 1968 at the age of 18.  The marriage didn't last, but when I was forced to come home after a divorce, he never said a thing.  

When I met Jeff, thanks to help from Dad and Jeff's sister, I remember him telling me before we walked down the aisle in 1974, that Jeff was a keeper.  Dad was right.  Forty-two years later, Jeff is still a keeper and always will be.

Thanks Dad for everything you were to me.

P