For My Dad, On Veteran’s Day

Here are some photos of my dad from an earlier post I did on my family history.

I find this photo particularly poignant.  I managed to date it to Dec. 25, 1942 from the headline on the newspaper my Dad is reading.  He would be going into the Coast Guard soon to serve during WWII.  He had the opportunity to get a job at a factory that supplied the war effort and essentially sit out the war safely at home, but he wouldn't do it.  He didn't feel he could face his children if he didn't "do his part."  My Mother (on the right) is about 2 or 3 months pregnant with my older brother.  My Grandmother is on the left, lost in thought.  To me, this scene reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting.

I find this photo particularly poignant. I managed to date it to Dec. 25, 1942 from the headline on the newspaper my Dad is reading. He would be going into the Coast Guard soon to serve during WWII. He had the opportunity to get a job at a factory that supplied the war effort and essentially sit out the war safely at home, but he wouldn’t do it. He didn’t feel he could face his children if he didn’t “do his part.” My Mother (on the right) is about 2 or 3 months pregnant with my older brother. My Grandmother is on the left, lost in thought. To me, this scene reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting.

 

My mother found her own hunky dude in the form of my father, Jack, seen here on his Coast Guard ship during WWII.  His ancestors came to this country from the Alsace region of France, probably in the early 1700's.  (That region typically veered back and forth between the control of France and Germany until finally coming under French rule in recent times.)  My Dad's relative during the Revolutionary War provided meat to the troops, so we qualify for membership in the DAR for that "patriotic assistance."  They say an army travels on its stomach....

My mother found her own hunky dude in the form of my father, Jack, seen here on his Coast Guard ship during WWII. His ancestors came to this country from the Alsace region of France, probably in the early 1700’s. (That region typically veered back and forth between the control of France and Germany until finally coming under French rule in recent times.) My Dad’s relative during the Revolutionary War provided meat to the troops, so we qualify for membership in the DAR for that “patriotic assistance.” They say an army travels on its stomach….

 

Jack Coast Guard

When I was a kid, my Dad would let us play with the semaphore flags he had brought back from the war. Sometimes he would demonstrate how to send certain messages and occasionally, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, he would spell out words that we knew had to be “naughty,” but we didn’t know what they were. My mother would just say, “Oh, Jack!” and laugh along with us.

 

My parents' union was "blessed" first with the arrival of my brother, Tim, in 1943 and then with me in 1947.  Get a load of the noggin on that baby!

My parents’ union was “blessed” first with the arrival of my brother, Tim, in 1943 and then with me in 1947. Get a load of the noggin on that baby!

Dad passed away in 1998 at the age of 82.  His generation had to deal with the Great Depression and WWII.  They had a job to do and they stepped up and did it.  Many never returned to their families.  We were among the lucky ones.  Thanks, Dad.

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3 thoughts on “For My Dad, On Veteran’s Day

  1. What a lovely post! My dad also served in the Coast Guard during WWII. He was graduated from high school early so he could enlist as soon as he turned age 18. He was on a ship on the coast of the Philippines. His role was a tad less glamorous than your signalman dad. My dad worked the laundry detail. No one could iron like him.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. WordPress is playing tricks on me again. . . it doesn’t seem to know me. Trying again because I have to tell you that I LOVE that first picture. You’re right–it’s right off The Saturday Evening Post cover. I love your grandmother’s pose and expression. Who is the little boy? Oh… one more thing. I do not think your noggin is too large in that photo; it’s simply that the George Washington wig is too small.

    This was very special. I loved the peek into your family history.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hahaha! Yes, it does look like a George Washington wig, now that you mention it. My mother wanted a girl and, by God, I was going to wear a bonnet with ruffles if it killed me. Later, when my hair was still sparse, she used to Scotch tape a bow to my head.

    The little boy in the top photo is, I think, the son of my mother’s cousin, but I’m not sure on that. I think she is the woman on the right in the kitchen. Seeing my grandmother like this, in a chair and able-bodied, is really weird for me because I never knew her to be without crutches. About the time I was born, she developed pernicious anemia and lost the use of her legs. My brother knew her as she is in this photo.

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