My dad turns 86 next month. He is the oldest in his family line, the patriarch, or “the Old Fart” as he prefers to call himself. I had the wonderful opportunity to sit down with Mom and Dad over the summer and talk, just talk, about different things—family, politics, memories of when I was a kid. But one the things I like best is getting Mom or Dad talking about when they were “younger”. I say younger, since Mom and Dad somehow have refused to grow old, despite the inconveniences of the aging process on their physical flesh and blood equipment.
Who knows how the topic came up; doesn’t matter. Dad began telling me about being in the Navy during the Korean War. He worked as a mechanic on airplanes, and went on later to become a mechanical engineer from Purdue, which might not have occurred based on what he told me about this particular stint serving our country. (Which logically follows that my brother and I might not have occurred, either…!) He did not work off of an aircraft carrier, however, but something called a Currituck-class Seaplane Tender.
See the picture? That’s a seaplane being hoisted up out of the water to be serviced on the boat. They weren’t big on luxury space in those days (I’ve also heard the stories of the sleeping quarters piled three-high in the
guts of the ship…), and so the belly of the plane fit on deck, but the wings stuck w-a-a-a-y out…over the water….with sharks swimming around.
And guess what Dad’s job was. To walk out onto the wings, untethered. (Dad says “well, yeah, at first”, which to me, untethered means untethered.) Airplane wings are, by design, flexible, so that means bobbing up and down. Boats, by design, roll with the waves of the sea, so that means rocking back and forth. I’m no engineer like my dad, but the bottom line is an unpredictable, three-dimensional, continually unstable motion under your feet….over the water….with sharks swimming around. (“Sometimes they were porpoises”, says Dad.)
“Did you ever fall in?!?”, I inquire.
“No”, says Dad, calmly. “Almost, but you get used to it.”
Right.
I’m such a wimp.
One of many stories that are far too rapidly fading into the backdrop of our American history. But rather than bewail the current state of affairs that the media chooses to cover, I prefer to humbly salute my folks, their friends, and their incredible contribution and legacy.
Happy almost birthday, Dad! I love you dearly!
I loved you tribute. Family is such a picture of enduring love. We do have wonderful parents. Thank you for putting your thoughts into precious words .
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Do you have a site yet?? Thank you so much for your kind words of encouragement!! I’m excited for you to get published on social media. I think you talent will fit so well in a blog (y
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(sorry, computer problems and it cut me off) Anyway, I’ll email. Thanks again!!
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Hope you will write many stories as told my your parents. I wish I had listened well enough to write stories from my ancestors. I’ve waited until too late to record first hand. My mom did leave several stories, all hand written on lined paper. I’m glad to have them.
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I’m hoping my dad will let us put some photos up, but I’m waiting for his permission to do so. I’m just so proud of he and my mother. Thanks for reading!
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By the way, are you sharing any of your stories from back then with us? Do you have any recollection of the Depression, or WW2, or anything you might be willing to post? What you have is SOOOoooo000 very valuable!!
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dawn, my husband is also 86. He was in the London blitz in WW 2, was evacuated to Wales – lots of stories. He would be a good place to start with some family stories. I get to it — sometime! My stories? I’ve done a couple “Pete and Amy” stories. I could and should do more. Thanks for reading, thanks for encouraging.
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