Monday, May 31, 2010


I celebrate Memorial Day by thinking about the most important men in my life. Forget all of the Admirals, Gemerals, congressmen and all of the other people that love to blow their own horns.

The first and most important = my father. The son of Russian emigrants, born in this country, with many brothers and sisters. Born in 1900, in 1917 he was to young to serve in the first world war and in 1944, married and with a family, told he was to old. So, proud man that he was, he became an airplane spotter and neighborhood commander.
How proud he was of his helmet, badge and binoculars and the fact that he could do something for his country. After all, he was living the American dream, a wife, two children, a house, a dog and even a white pickett fence!

This next picture is of my dad at age 19. I said that he was from a large family and of course, the boys all wore hand-me-downs. It is his picture in the first set of new clothes he had ever owned. Payment from his first job!

Next is my brother, Bobby. Five years older and my mentor when I was in high school. How I loved him - oh my - he was so important in my life. Drafted into the Army at age 21 in the early summer of 1945 and then shipped almost immediately to California - so far from home. Thence to England for more training and into France on D-day plus 2.
Home as the war was ending in Europe, unscathed by some miracle, to live a full, and fruitful life. His American dream ending at age 85 some 4 years ago.
Last but certainly not least, my husband, Bob. Many of my pictures and records were lost during our move to the Hagerstown area so I have just this one rather poor picture to share with you.

The three musketters, brother Bobby, age 21, me, age 17, and husband to be Bob, age 21.
My Bob enlisted in the Army Air Corp (as it was known then) 2 weeks after the Pearl Harbor attack. He was called to active duty in January of 1945 and served until late in 1946. He was honorably discharged due to a training accident that landed him in a military hospital. He spent the balance of the war years at the Naval Gun Factory in Washington, D.C. helping to build munitions for the military.
Memorial day to me is about the "little" people. People like you and me, that walk the streets of small town America, love our families, our country, abide by the laws and take care of each other. I hope that each of you has someone that you can be grateful to for giving you the freedoms that we so enjoy today.


Orange Sink said...

Thank-you for sharing your beautiful family and memories here. All the photos are precious. Your family cannot be honored enough for the part they've had in serving to keep our country a place where people the world over want to come and raise a family in peace and security! Cathy G

weaverpat said...

What a lovely tribute to your brave and handsome men! They are the ones who make the sacrafice and win the wars.
May we never forget the ones who risk their lives so we can live in a free country.