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Memorial Day: owe eternal thanks

My father was 52 when he passed. He was buried in the old pioneer cemetery in Williams, Oregon. He grew up in Chicago IL one of 11 children during the Great Depression.

Times were hard during the 1930’s and my grandfather and his oldest sons all worked hard to feed the rest of the family. Food was scarce so my grandfather allowed my dad to join the U.S. Army 82nd Airborne when he was 19-yrs old in early 1942 with his older brother who was later killed in action during the landing on Sicily.

My father saw 3-years of combat deployment as a BAR rifleman with the 82nd Airborne in Europe during WW2. He saw action in N. Africa, Sicily, Italy and France during D-Day.

After his time with the U.S. Army, he joined the Los Angeles Police Department, and later met my mother who passed in 2005 and is buried in Gazelle, CA.

My parents worked very hard and saved every penny for years. We lived a very spartan life.

In the early 1960’s my parents bought a ranch out of foreclosure outside of Grants Pass near Murphy, Ore.

Life was hard restoring the run-down ranch and working the ranch. We had calluses on top of our calluses.

My father suffered from years of combat and all the killing he did and saw.

The price he paid for his service to our Country continued until the day he passed.
I pray he is now finally at peace.

Nevertheless, my father taught us to always ‘fight the good fight’ and to be tough. He didn’t coddle any of us.

In his own way he prepared us for life in a tough and unforgiving world.
For that, I owe him eternal thanks.

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