My dad and I had a special bond. We always could confide in each other. He filled our lives with magic and poetry, writing each of his children poems throughout the years while we were growing up. He loved his family fiercely and would stand up to any one he thought would try to hurt us in any way. He loved old movies, Irish tenors and James Whitcomb Riley was his favorite poet. Because of him we had fairy clouds at night (that meant we were good) we had a tooth fairy, we had a fairy who left us pennies under the sofa cushions, and I believed in Santa many, many years (still do) as well as the Easter bunny.
My dad was so proud to be an American, very proud of the flag and all it stood for. Dad served his country in World War II as a paratrooper with the 503rd combat infantry. While making a combat jump on Corregidor, in the Phillipines, his buddy Eugene Manning jumped before dad, and another buddy then followed dad. On dad’s descent, he clipped the side of a building hitting his hip and denting his canteen. When he hit the ground, it knocked him out briefly. When he came to, he found the body of his buddy Manning who had been shot. Later on, he discovered that the man who had followed him in the jump had also been shot. While unpacking his parachute, he found a bullet lodged in the reserve parachute. This saved his life. On the 50th anniversary of his jump on Corregidor, he wore a silk shirt made from this parachute.
My dad loved poetry. One of dad’s poems appears in the preface to a book “Back to Corregidor”, which was written by dad’s friend.
Silver moon softens shattered walls,
Only the ghosts remain,
And the winds howl down the lonely halls
The tales of blood and pain.
And chutes sigh, like long lost souls,
Stranded in lifeless trees,
Death lurks in the cave-like holes
That gape at the lonely seas.
O Lord, consecrate and bless
The loved ones who must rest,
Who bore your cross and gave their all
In this their final test.
Dad was buried at the Leavenworth National Cemetery in Leavenworth, Kan.