When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, my Grandpa was like many eligible young men at the time. He rushed to join the navy and help the United States to exact revenge for the lives lost and fight for the safety of the American people and those he loved. From the small town of Silver Lake, he soon embarked on an adventure at sea that put him in the direct line of battle.
Throughout his life he was proud of his service and often regaled the family with colorful stories of life aboard ship. The men aboard the USS Borie DD-704 met every year after the war until death claimed them to remember. They were the greatest bunch of people…and through these reunions and my grandparents I had the pleasure of meeting some great people including impressive figures such as Commander Noah Adair who led the ship and its crew during World War 2.
My Grandpa was a baker aboard ship and proudly kept the notes and cookbook telling exactly how many ingredients he needed to prepare pies, cakes, and breads for hundreds of men. His animated tales of life at sea and the kamikaze which hit the ship on August 9, 1945 causing extensive damage and loss of life became the stuff of family legend and lore. I remember him always saying that the day the ship was hit was the day when the war became all to real. A lot of dirty skivvies went flying overboard ship that day, his included. I believe I would have filled my pants too if I were placed in similar circumstances.
His time aboard ship led him to participate in the invasion of Iwo Jima and the raids on Tokyo and Okinawa. He also was extremely pleased to tell anyone within earshot that he had crossed the equator aboard ship. Unlike many who never came home, he lived to tell the first hand tales of World War 2, return stateside, and marry my Grandma.
It is because of men and women like him who felt the fire in their hearts to serve that we enjoy the freedoms we do today. It is because of their selfless sacrifices that we can enjoy life as we know it and live without fear. G0d bless our troops!! Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
I can imagine my mom was as animated and full of fun when she was a little girl as she was later when she had grown up. This picture always used to sit on the dresser of the upstairs bedroom of my Grandma's house and I was always fascinated with it.
Often my Grandma told stories about some of my mother's antics when she was a little girl. Whenever she didn't get her way, instead of crying and throwing a fit, she would smile and say "Well, maybe tomorrow I can!"
In those days during World War 2, you didn't waste food under any circumstance. You were expected to try everything, and if you put something on your plate, you had better plan on eating all of it. The good L0rd was kind enough to bless you with food and you were reminded to be thankful.
One story from my mother's childhood comes to mind when I look at the little girl in this picture. One evening, the family had gathered around the table for the meal. After saying prayers, the dishes were passed. My mother was convinced she absolutely HATED tomatoes, even though she could never remember trying them in the past. When the plate of tomatoes were passed to her she made a big production of taking several of the slices as her family looked on. To everyone's surprise she then requested the dish of heavy whipping cream and proceeded to top those tomatoes with a generous helping. Her Grandpa made a point of reminding little Edith that she needed to eat every single bite of those tomatoes knowing full well she had most likely ruined them with the whipping cream. Everyone was silent as my mom geared up to take a bite. As you can imagine, she discovered on that day that she liked tomatoes but they were a lot better without the whipping cream. That night she ate every single bit, just as she was required washing it down with water and milk.
After that day, my mom loved tomatoes as G0d intended raw and straight off the vine, or cooked in stews and sauces. She never made the mistake again to top them with whipping cream, prefering instead a pince of salt or Italian dressing if in a salad.
My mom often told this story when I was faced with an unfamiliar food on my plate. Her best advice was to just try it and get it over with, then if it needed any doctoring up, then so be it!! My kids have also been regaled with the tales of the precocious little girl who grew up in the 1940's and 1950's so they can better understand what a fun loving person their Grandma was. I am so thankful I have this picture of her and I will cherish it always! It helps me remember, and keeps her spirit alive. Until next time when I give you a glimpse into the life of a trucker's wife.
My Grandpa was a baker aboard ship and proudly kept the notes and cookbook telling exactly how many ingredients he needed to prepare pies, cakes, and breads for hundreds of men. His animated tales of life at sea and the kamikaze which hit the ship on August 9, 1945 causing extensive damage and loss of life became the stuff of family legend and lore. I remember him always saying that the day the ship was hit was the day when the war became all to real. A lot of dirty skivvies went flying overboard ship that day, his included. I believe I would have filled my pants too if I were placed in similar circumstances.
