Copyright © Reflections from Dorothy’s Ridge 2015. All rights reserved
Reflecting on Life, Love & Faith
Copyright © Reflections from Dorothy’s Ridge 2015. All rights reserved
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Bill & Will |
Will and his friends came of age during the days of the draft, just in time for Vietnam. Many of them spent time in the military. As most of you know, Will didn’t survive his second tour of duty as an Army helicopter pilot.
So today, I want to say thank you to the all the courageous men and women who have put yourselves on the line to ensure that the United States of America remains free and strong.
God bless you and God bless America.
Here are just a few veterans I’ve been privileged to know.
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Puppy-Dog Eyes at three |
Dad grew up during the depression. As the oldest of four children, he often worked alongside his father at manual labor to help support the family. Through the years, he regaled us with stories of standing chest-deep in a river to move logs to shore, and how at one point, they put newspapers over the walls of their house to keep the wind out.
He and granddad also worked with the CCCs. During that time, Dad was given the nickname Pistol by someone who thought he was from Pistol City. An online article by Teri Maddox of News-Democrat sheds light on the moniker.
The coal-mining town of Coulterville must have been a rough-and-tumble place in the late 1800s and early 1900s. People called it “Pistol City.” “I had an uncle who used to talk about who got killed on this street and who got killed on that street,” said Sam White, 70, of rural Coulterville. “He said everybody carried a gun when they came into town at night.”
Terry’s dad was not a violent gun-toting guy, but he knew how to stand up for himself and for others. At his funeral, a younger friend remarked that even at 86, he had been the most macho man in the congregation. We figured he had heard lots of Dad’s stories about flying bombers over Europe during WWII, racing cars and in later years, confronting a would-be robber at his travel trailer door by getting the drop on him.
Because there was no money for college, the Army Air Corps must have looked good to Dad. He was a career airman and made the most of every opportunity that came his way. He retired with the rank of Colonel from the United States Air Force. With all his accomplishments, he never forgot his humble beginnings nor the fact he didn’t have a college education. Both of his boys had that opportunity.
Les Johnson could be tough, but he was also tender and affectionate. He adored his wife, Eloise. She had been his secretary, and with a twinkle in his eye, he’d allude to stealing kisses behind the file cabinet. I often think about Dad riding shotgun in our car and how always at some point in the trip, he’d reach back to pat Mo’s knee.