Pops

With my grandmother’s help, my grandfather wrote this before he died in 2001. I just recently read it for the first time. The one significant trait of my grandfather was his honesty. One could rely on him to say things as he saw them and tell a story with a reasonable amount of fairness. When he writes about his fears and his encounters with other Marines, this honesty stands out. Usually when a person fabricates, they will display themselves as a hero and their enemies as villains. There are not heroes in his story, just very young men who manage bravery when it counts. I feel connected to him through this aspect of the story because it reminds me of all the times in my life where I was touched by his honesty and perspective.

When I was young, my grandfather used to take us to the pier to go fishing. That was the thing he enjoyed doing with us the most. The rest of the time he was somewhat grouchy. In 1994 he had a quadruple bypass. We all thought he was a goner, but he pulled through. Once he started to recover from that he changed. I suppose the brush with death helped him to live each day to the fullest. He started talking about his experiences in Saipan, and wrote this. He became more affectionate and mellow. His heart never quite healed and the reduced oxygen flow to the brain resulted in dementia. The last years were hard on him and my grandmother, but he adored her to no end.

They celebrated their 50th anniversary in 1998 and my grandmother planned a huge party, which I missed. My sister Katy sent me an account of it, which included a description of my grandmother yodeling. I still have it, and will post it at some point. On Veterans day in 2005 the Memorial was erected near the pier in San Clemente in honor of the Marines. My family donated money to put his name on one of the benches, and I like to go down there and sit when I’m home.