62 Seconds Worth of Distance Run

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My phone sent me this reminder four years ago. That’s Gene, my third Marine division sweetie, in front of the second flag raised on Iwo Jima.

I miss Gene so much. He was one of the kindest men I ever knew. So masculine and so gentle.

A lot of the vets I grew up with felt like surrogate uncles or grandfathers. Gene felt like a second dad.

I spent my 25th birthday celebrating Gene’s life with his family and friends in the heart of Montana… toasting him with a smooth bourbon and stories for days. It was really one of the best gifts he could have given me. There was so much beauty and peace. The fulfillment of a life well lived.

A life well lived might be an understatement.

A life he thrived in, an unsatiable appetite for life, a life in Technicolor.

As long as I knew him, he was taking Edgar Guest’s line - “fill the unforgiving minute with 60 seconds worth of distance run” and filling it with 62 seconds.

The year before Gene died he suffered a heart attack while hunting with his son. "Don't worry about me," he said, "get your shot then we can go to the hospital." He didn't want to miss out on anything.

When he went on hospice and knew it was a short matter of time, he continued to make plans - just in case hospice didn’t work out. He had a date lined up for the Marine Corps Birthday in November and talked about going to our Iwo Jima reunion in February.

In the days leading up to his death, we texted constantly (he was an incredibly speedy texting machine). I sent photos of old times. Someone told me he was going through all the photos on his phone, trying to remember EVERYTHING.

Gene has been born prematurely. In the 1920s the survival rate for a preemie baby was incredibly low. He and his twin brother were kept in a shoebox by the fire to keep warm. They both made it.

He became a marine. Survived the battle of Guam and Iwo Jima. Went into law-enforcement on the Hollywood beat. Became a park ranger at Glacier National Park. He had an illustrious life. He had an epic life. But in my mind he represented masculinity, kindness, stability, and integrity.

Gene told me once that if there was ever anything I needed, he was just a phone call away. And he meant it. But he didn’t wait for me to make that call. He called me – to make sure I was OK, to make sure I had everything I needed, that I was happy, content. Just to check in.

I miss those check-in calls a lot. I’d like to tell them about my life, my love, my work. I know he would’ve been so invested.

I visited a friend on hospice this week. I work with a lady with severe dementia. I am constantly surrounded by vivid reminders of the mortality and shortness of life. And there have been several days of late where it all just felt like a lot.

Then a little memories like this pop-up. And I’m flooded with recollections of people like Gene– who shaped my perspective on kindness, how to be treated like a lady and a woman, what integrity looks like… unconditional love. These little moments make everything worthwhile.

They make my own life technicolor.

On the day that we actually have an extra 24 hours, February 29, I want to be like Gene: filling the most unforgiving minute with every second worth of distance run and saying, “You can take me to the hospital after you get that shot.”

Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

Always Kiss Goodnight: A Story for Valentine's Day

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Marvin and Irene Kanter’s love story is one of my favorites. I came across it 10 years ago while searching for local WWII vets my sisters and I could invite to the first function we ever decided to host. It was to be a grand dinner at a classic car museum in San Marcos with special guest, Maurice Renaud son of the wartime mayor of Sainte-Mere-Eglise, France.

I somehow managed to find Marvin’s address and sent him an invitation with an extra note saying I hoped he’d attend (his movie star looks might have encouraged us just a bit to reach out). Happily to our surprise they accepted. The couple was everything and more. Marvin was even better looking and more charming in person, and Irene was absolutely fabulous with a side of spunk. She had been the one to propose to Marving back in 1947, and time had not dimmed that quality.

"If you see a good looking man in a black sports coat, watch out. He is Navy all the way." - Irene Kanter declaring to an Army veteran

Irene passed away shortly after that dinner, but Marvin stuck around for a few more years. Their love story never gets old. Sweet and simple. Long lasting. No doubt they put the work in to make it so.

I sometimes wondered if the movie Anchors Away written based off of their meeting.

Yours to decide.

Always Kiss Goodnight

Helen Anders American-Statesman Thursday, Feb. 21, 2013 

Mr. Kanter at our 2014 Veterans Dinner.

It was Halloween night 1944, and a new student at the University of Texas, Irene Wolfson, had a date to a Longhorns football game. Told a blue norther was coming in, but not knowing quite what that was because she’d just arrived from Florida, Irene dressed smartly in a one-button suit with a yellow angora sweater.

“I go out to get in the car,” Irene recalls, “and driving is this sailor with coal-black hair and a fantastic smile.” That, however, was not Irene’s date, although her date was also in the car. The sailor, Marvin Kanter, on shore leave from the Navy, had a date of his own. Still, during the evening when it became clear that Irene had under-dressed for the norther, he lent her his pea coat. The next day, Marvin left to catch a ship out of San Francisco.

“All the way to California, I was picking yellow angora off my pea coat,” he says. His memory of Irene stuck with him just like the angora, and when he was back in Austin — two years later, after World War II had ended — he tracked her down for a date. Then he went home to Missouri and she to Florida, but they corresponded. Irene’s mother saw his picture in her daughter’s room and instantly disapproved.

“He has a weak chin,” she tsked. Undeterred, Irene proposed to Marvin when they got together one weekend in 1947.

“What are your future plans?” Marvin asked Irene, who quickly answered: “I plan to marry you and settle down.” In 1949, they did just that, opting to move to Austin, where Irene quickly landed a job with a fabric store and Marvin worked for a pharmaceuticals wholesaler.

“I don’t think anyone expected the marriage to last,” Irene muses. But here they are, 64 years later. Irene wound up teaching school, then becoming an administrator, serving as assistant principal of Anderson High School for 20 years. Marvin took a job with the Texas Railroad Commission and spent 34 years of weekends officiating at football games, many of them attended by Irene and their daughter, Shelly.

“Remember that time we put hotdog wrappers on our feet to keep warm?” Shelly remembers, and both her parents laugh.

Mr. and Mrs. Kanter at our 2014 Veterans Dinner.

Mr. and Mrs. Kanter at our 2014 Veterans Dinner.

Now retired, Marvin and Irene take a swim in their pool at exactly 4 p.m. every day (unless it’s too cold) and follow that up with a 5 p.m. cocktail hour. They may be out of the business world, but they’re far from idle. They work from time to time as extras in movies shooting in Austin — in fact, they enjoyed a decent amount of screen time behind Sandra Bullock in a restaurant scene in “Miss Congeniality” — and they travel relentlessly, heading out for a tour of interior Alaska just four weeks after Irene had hip surgery. Talking about all this, they grin at each other like newlyweds.

“We have a lot of fun together,” Irene says.

“We laugh a lot, and we try to stay young,” Marvin says. “And whether the day has gone smooth or rough, at the end of the day, we kiss each other.”

“Sometimes it’s hard when you’ve had a fuss,” Irene says, “but we do.”

http://www.statesman.com/lifestyles/always-kiss-good-night/3rPiyfI7ktv4v9tooYr2RN/

"It Only Took 70 Years"

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It’s that time of year again… when the weather begins to get nippy, we put our favorite sweaters on, eat the ultimate American artery cloggers, and gather around to sing our favorite songs… oh wait - did you think I meant the holidays? No, I’m referring to the World Series of course. Where else are you going to stuff your face with loaded hotdogs and sing Take Me Out to the Ball Game. 

Bill and his wife of 69 years, Phyllis

The World Series always reminds me of my old friend, Bill Madden. I dust off his story every couple of years and share snippets of it, because it really is a timeless one.

It’s an American story.

A young boy from Chicago grows up to be a United States Marine. Gets Iwo Jima and a Purple Heart added to his resume before coming home to marry the girl next door. An all-American boy, living out the all-American dream until his death at 90.

It’s a good resume. The only thing I’d add to it: Bill was a persevering Cubs fan. 

70 years of perseverance. 

“Baseball is a long-suffering game. If anyone does not have the endurance to overcome tough times, failure, bad luck, bad hops and everything that try one’s patience and then he would not last long in this game.” – Peter G. Doumi

The story starts in 1945. Bill is lying in a Naval hospital in Chicago, recuperating from wounds he’d received on Iwo Jima. Morale is fine, but he’s ready to be better.

Then the news goes around his ward: the Cubs are playing the World Series and as a “Thank you for your service” were sending free tickets to any of the servicemen convalescing at the hospital.

How fantastic! Bill is ecstatic.

The last time the Cubs played the series he was a mere 10 years old.

The scene that followed is cinematic. “Sailors be salty” or something like that… no sooner was news of the sponsored tickets issued, than some hospital official decided to stipulate “that as the Marines were guests of the Navy, a bit of scrubbing and mopping the deck would be required in exchange for the tickets.”

“Shucks,” said Bill. “No way I’m doing dirty work for some sailor who wants to tell me - A MARINE - what to do. The Cubs are sure to play another year, so I’ll go then.”

Well, the Cubs missed the series the next year. And the next. And the next. 

70 years later… 

PHOTO CREDIT: PRWEB

I met Bill in the summer of 2015. We became fast friends immediately, and over the next year and a half we exchanged nearly daily emails. It was a special friendship, and he passed many things on to me including a love of baseball. 

When I heard the joyous news for all Cubbies, that after 7 decades they were to play again at the Series, I was beyond thrilled. I hadn’t waited 70 years, but I knew how much it meant to Bill. His perseverance had paid off. 

To make the circle complete, a very kind benefactor had gotten wind of Bill’s story and gifted him a trip to the game. But unlike 70 years before, there were no strings attached. 

Technically, this is where the story ends. Victory after years of perseverance. But there is a little more…

Bill actually passed away just before the 7th and final game. But he was happy. He was reunited with his darling wife of 69 years, and his beloved Cubs had made it to the World Series.

1945 World SEries. (Chicago Tribune historical photo)

Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

State of Maryland Honors WWII Veterans

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The other day we had the very special honor of hand delivering a Citation from the Maryland General Assembly recognizing the military service of WWII Veterans: Melvin Hurwitz and Jack Meyers.

An excerpt of the citation says,

Resolution in Dedication and Memorial by Delegate Dan Cox, Candidate for Maryland Governor (submitted for drafting and vote December 7, 2021

“To recognize the 80th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor and the lasting bond between the State of Maryland and the World War II Veteran Community;

Whereas, three World War II veterans of the European Theatre representing Maryland have traveled to Pearl Harbor today for the 80th anniversary, and include Corporal Wilbur "Jack" Myers, age 98, from Hagerstown, Maryland; SSgt Melvin Hurwitz, Age 96, from Frederick, Maryland; and Lieutenant Adolph "Ade" Chwastyk, age 95, from Silver Spring, Maryland;

Now, therefore, be it remembered:

That the Maryland House of Representatives, on December 7, 2021, the 80th anniversary of the December 7, 1941, attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii—

(1) Pays tribute to the members of the Armed Forces of the United States and civilians who died in the attack.

(2) Acknowledges the role of the USS Maryland and residents past and present of the state of Maryland who served in branches of the United States military, and defended our nation against the hostile forces during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

(3) Offers thanksgiving to God for the ultimate military victory of the United States against our enemies in the great conflict of the Second World War.

(4) Appreciates the role of the WWII veteran support community like Operation Meatball and The Best Defense Foundation and many others, responsible for the ongoing care and honor of these national treasures - those last surviving warriors of all military branches who defended our freedom in the European and Pacific theatres of the Second World War.

(5) Honors the thousands of men and women of the Armed Forces of the United States who paid the ultimate sacrifice and gave their lives in defense of freedom and liberty during World War II.

Official Citation

from the Maryland General Assembly

Many thanks to Dan Cox for drafting and putting this special resolution through!!! The vets were so honored and pleased.

Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

Harmonica Pete

/ Operation Meatball/

Harmonica Pete was an American patriot and a class act.

The girls and I "bumped" into Pete back in 2014 when we were on the same flight over to Belgium for the anniversary of the Bulge. Pete immediately captured all our hearts as serenaded us on his harmonica during the flight and afterwards waiting for our baggage.

Later that week Pete shared with me the excitement he had to be back in Belgium. Not just because it was where he'd served as an Army Medic 70 years before, but because this was where both his parents had served nearly 100 years before during the Great War, the War to End all Wars.

The years that followed I'd get occasional calls from Pete that would always start with him playing a chorus of his favorite music on the harmonica, then in a deep and youthful voice, "This is Harmonica Pete." Just my favorite.

In the poem "If" by Rudyard Kipling, he says to "Fill the unforgiving minute with 60 seconds worth of distance run." If you knew Pete or followed his regular adventures in the news, you would agree with me that Pete filled every minute with 61 seconds.

Thanks for the memories.

Peter B. DuPré

May 12, 1923 - January 18, 2022

US Army || World War Two

Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

A Short Reflection

/ Operation Meatball/

Seven years ago this January I received a call that I consider one of those key moments in your life that changed everything.

“Hello Liberty… Your family was recommended to me by a WWII Veteran Bill Schott. Would you and your sisters be willing to come and sing for my veteran lunch group this month?”

Kevin (the man calling) organized a monthly WWII veteran luncheon he paid for out of pocket. Starting out he had just gathered a few WWII vets together, but within a year his roster boasted well over 80 WWII veterans. It was his way of giving back to the veterans that gave so much in WWII.

The girls and I jumped at the request. A few months before we’d been introduced to Iwo Jima Survivor Bill Schott. He’d captured our hearts almost immediately, and I’d been looking for an excuse to get back up to Fort Worth for a second visit.

Sometimes looking back in life you see moments that changed the course of your life. This was one of those pivotal moments. After the first luncheon we were completely in love.  Our “one-time” trip turned into 7 years of attending these luncheons.

And playing hostess to the vets turned into deep lifelong friendships.

How many hours did we spend in the car commuting from San Antonio to Forth Worth? I have no idea. Even when we moved to Colorado briefly, the 14 hour drive to Texas didn’t deter us from visiting our adopted family of veterans.

We grew up with the vets while they grew old. We watched the luncheons expand in size as the WWII guys began to dwindle in number.

How many times did we say goodbye each month, not knowing it was a final goodbye. One last squeeze of the hand, or a quick “hug for the road.”

Every meeting ended with “Sentimental Journey,” the entire room joining in. One month, the song was replaced with a different oldy from the war. In the uproar that followed, one would have assumed we’d been selling government secrets to the Russians.

One year we all took a boisterous trip to New Orleans to visit the National World War Two Museum. Perhaps Nola with a bunch of octogenarians doesn’t sound wild, but then you don’t know the energy of these guys and their taste for life.

I’m a little sentimental today because Friday was the last luncheon of the year. There will be another one in January, but I don’t take it for granted anymore.

In the moment it’s hard to know when you are making a decision that will change your life. It’s why one really has to be willing and available at all times. Open hands, open heart.

Looking back 7 years I can't imagine what my life would be like today if I hadn’t taken that call. Definitely missing some of the brightest color and the dearest of friendships one could ask for.

Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

Our American Birthright: Veterans Day 2021

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Roy Huereque and Donald Long, two veterans who left a lasting impact on me.

A few weeks ago, a conversation I had led me to contemplate the birthright that is given to us as Americans. Birthright is kind of an archaic word, but absolutely invaluable. It is our inheritance, our legacy, a rightful privilege we receive at birth. Our birthright as Americans gives us the gift of freedom. Freedom to self regulate and self govern. With that freedom comes responsibility. The responsibility to tend to, care for, and protect our birthright.

“To whom much is given, much is required.”


This birthright, our freedom, has to be guarded. We all share the responsibility, true, but it’s not equally divided. Our military carries the burden of protection in a different manner than the civilian. Our military holds the line for the rest of us. A few men and women volunteer to make particular sacrifices and develop distinct disciplines so that the rest of us do not have to.

And that’s why we have a Veterans’ Day. To honor their service, their sacrifice, their discipline, their burden, and to say ‘thank you.’ It’s not hero worship. It’s recognizing that they have taken our place in line and made themselves available to protect America on behalf of the rest of us. Some years patriotism is in vogue, and other years it’s blacklisted. But our veterans stick it out, carrying the standard with pride. And for this, I will always be grateful.

A few years back, I listened as a veteran told me the story of a day when time stopped for him. Beneath the skies of Belgium, he watched the snow fall slowly and melt into nothingness on the open and exposed brain of the young paratrooper he held in his arms. He had tried to save the boy, but the surrounding snow was already stained red with the life of the young man.

The veteran was old, but still strong. I held his hand as he reflected on this painful memory. He was gentle, kind, and sincere. He had carried a Medic’s bag in the war instead of a rifle because he wanted to save life, not take away.

The entirety of our friendship, I never once heard him complain. His presence was like a warm hug. His sense of humor was charming. I cried bitterly when he died. But I never forgot that conversation.

“Liberty,” he had said in a smooth Virginia accent, “I love this country so much. As horrible as it all was, I would do it all again. At 95 it would be my greatest honor to take up arms for my country. That’s how much I love her.”

There was no pomp in what he said. No clichés. It was pure and simple.

He loved America.

For him to have that experience, just one in many nightmarish experiences he had suffered, it was worth it. Worth it if it meant I - ME - Liberty Phillips - did not have to. That was it.


There is so much chaos in the world. So much disillusionment, hurt, pain, and so on. But I am convinced a grateful heart is a happy one. Gratitude doesn’t mean ignorance. Gratitude is choosing to not allow suffering and hardship to define who you are, and who you will be.

I am grateful for my veterans. My military family. For all it entails. “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love…. And Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”


Happy Veterans Day.

Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

Goodbye Bud

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Goodbyes are hard. And there have been so many of late. But this one... 💔

Bud called me up a couple of months ago. Phone calls with him never lasted more than a minute - minute and half if he was feeling really chatty. But this time he stretched it out a little longer. He wanted to talk about our friendship over the years and what it meant to him. I was tearing up by the end (he had that affect on me). Gentle, kind, soft-spoken man that he was, this was an unusual display. It sounded like he was saying goodbye. I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew in my heart this would be the last time. It was.

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On Thursday it was my turn to say goodbye. Gathered together with his friends and fellow Marines, we gave Bud one final adieu. I patted his kind hands for the last time as he lay there so handsomely decked out in his uniform of the Corps, medals on his chest, American flag draped over his casket. He looked so fine.

Taps played. A gun salute was fired.

Goodbye Bud.

Semper Fi and farewell my wonderful, handsome Marine.

Operation Meatball

Honoring Veterans & Connecting Them With the Youth of Today

We're Back!

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We’re back! After a multi-month sabbatical from the blog (largely induced by computer and technical problems), I’m hoping to get back into the regular flow of writing. I’ve certainly missed it. While things have been silent over the radio, we at Operation Meatball have carried on as best as possible in this new climate. With Honor Flight, annual Veterans events, luncheons, and breakfasts all cancelled for the immediate future due to Covid, it’s been tricky navigating how to serve and support our nation’s senior and elderly veterans while complying with the restrictions and safety measures.

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But the work must carry on, and quite frankly our mission is more important than ever.

Through letters, phone calls, and grocery runs, we’ve done our best to stay connected with the veterans we’ve built friendships with over the years. Some of them have been unable to leave their rooms at assisted living since the first lockdown back in March, so you can imagine the need.

This spring, thanks to some very generous donations, we were able to send out over 100 care packages to veterans stuck at home. We received some very beautiful letters from the veterans in response, which I hope to share at a later date. 

With the Holidays in full motion, it is our plan to start putting packages together in the next week. If you know of a veteran in need of some encouragement or holiday cheer, you can email us at:

OperationMeatball@gmail.com

Subject line: Veteran Care Package

We would love to send them something! 

Happy December!!

Xx Liberty for the team

They Showed Up: The 75th Anniversary Iwo Jima Reunion

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It was a whirlwind week in D.C. for the 75th Anniversary Iwo Jima Survivors Reunion, and even though it was a few weeks ago now, I can still hardly believe it's over.

The reunion had a record number of Iwo Jima veterans: with the final count being over 55.

The reunion had a record number of Iwo Jima veterans: with the final count being over 55.

It was a different type of reunion for me this year. Many of the friends whom I had become close with over the years passed away in the last 15 months. It was a weird feeling not having them present, and there were several moments when I half expected one of them to just come walking through or be wheeled in, laughing and declaring the attention of the room in a bellowing Marine Corps voice.

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But on the other hand, meeting so many new veterans who were making their VERY FIRST REUNION absolutely blew me away (and is literally bringing chills to my arms as I write). At one point, I was standing in the lobby of the hotel, and EVERYWHERE Iwo Jima hats were walking around - with some of the wearers looking too young to have even served in World War 2.

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But they had indeed.

Fighting in one of the most iconic battles in American history, 75 years later they showed up.

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A little older, a little hard of hearing, a little more wobbly on the knees, but with the same enthusiasm and Esprit de Corps; ready to share memories with one another, and remember the comrades they had loved dearly and left on that island of Volcanic Ash.

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To the veterans of Iwo Jima: Thank you for showing up. You showed up in 1945 when it mattered most, and you showed up in 2020 because - 75 years later - it still matters.

Iwo Jima Veteran Highlight

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Norman L. Baker

Iwo Jima Survivor

Submitted by Suzanne B. Baker

Beloved husband, father, friend, war hero, scientist, publisher and historian. Norman courageously volunteer to defend our country in World War II and bravely fought in the Battle of Iwo Jima, later on the front lines of the Korean War. Professionally, Norman was an accomplished aerospace engineer who worked on the Bomarc Missile Program and the Space Shuttle Program. Sought-after historian and guest lecturer, Norman author the number of books on the American Colonial Period. 

Updates for Operation Meatball Regarding the Covid-19

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Hello Friends,

As we have received some questions regarding Operation Meatball's activities over the next few months in connection to the Corona Virus, we just wanted to send you all a little update.

Though many of our spring plans have unfortunately been cancelled due to government travel and gathering restrictions, we still plan on carrying on as much as we can in a modified way.

This means we will be conducting check-up phone calls on veterans to make sure they have everything they need, we'll be publishing more regular articles and blog posts, and our veterans will continue to receive Mail Call - something especially important right now as most of our Seniors are restricted to their homes and retirement communities.

To our 2020 donors, keep an eye out in the mail the next couple of weeks as we are sending out little Thank you's for everything you helped us accomplish the first few months of this year.

To each and every one of you: Thanks for all of your awesome support and we will continue to keep you posted.

- The Meatball Girls

"The War That Was Almost Forgotten"

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In June, we were treated to a special surprise by Battle of the Bulge veteran, Buck Sloan. From his thick Texas accent down to his shiny black cowboy boots, Buck is the real deal. At 94, he can pluck the guitar and sing a tune that takes you back to the days of the old Westerns. 

Buck and his adorable wife serenaded our group with old classics such as Rag Mop (Ames Brothers), and a few that he had written himself.  

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Visits with the Vets

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In a large way, personal visits with the vets are the heart and soul of Operation Meatball. When the girls and I first started OM as a project 4 years ago, we wanted to use it as a way to encourage, thank, and remind WWII veterans that we are still a grateful nation, that their service to our country has not been forgotten, that they have not become obsolete to society, and that their age only makes them more valuable to us.

We did this through music, dressing in the style of their sisters and wives back in the 1940s, recording their stories, letters, or just taking them out to a meal. 

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However, brief encounters at events quickly grew into friendships, and as the veterans aged, it became more important to visit them in their homes or places of retirement where they could share stories from the comfort of their favorite chair, pull out old photos from pre-war days, or maybe just listen to their favorite Big Band cd. 

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Sometimes it's a quick hello and dropping off some sweets, and other times it's a 3-hour reviewing of war-time scrapbooks. Whatever the case, these "fireside chats" are the most precious of memories.

Recently, I called one of my Iwo vets who I hadn't seen in a while due to travel on both sides. "Come on over," he said. "I'm just here."

I popped over with the complete intention of seeing if I could take him out for a bite to eat, but when I arrived, he was in his favorite recliner, watching an old western. After the usual greetings, he ordered me to, "Sit down and watch the western." Was I hungry? Did I like enchiladas? (I must add, these are his famously delicious enchiladas) Could he make me some?

"Don't you want to finish the movie?" I asked.

"Oh," he said in his West Texas accent, "I've seen this a bunch of times... I know the ending."

How could I refuse such an offer... Within a few minutes, we were eating enchiladas and watching an Audie Murphy western. "He's my hero," my friend said. When the movie was over, and half the settlers had been killed by the Indians and half the Indians had been killed by the settlers, he declared to me that this was his favorite love story.

There is no way to put a value on visiting World War II veterans in their homes, where they are most peaceful, surrounded by memories of a full life, and so desiring to share those memories with someone who really cares. 

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"I've never forgotten them - I never will." / Memorial Day 2018

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Each year people write extensively about the meaning behind Memorial Day. I've written a few posts in the past similarly... but this year I just want to share some brief moments from my first Memorial Day in DC. 

To be honest, I didn't plan on spending this solemn holiday in D.C., for no reason other than I had different plans. But before the day was half over, I wouldn't have traded a precious minute of it to be somewhere else.

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For instance, I listened to a 14 year old Korean-American publicly thank the men who liberated his grandparents back in 1951, and pledge over $800 of his personal savings to the memorial that was in tribute of these liberators. He dedicated a flag to his hero, a WWII/Korean War Paratrooper who had lost both an arm and a leg fighting for that boy's country. Such articulate honor from a young man was completely inspiring. By the end of his speech (entitled "This I Believe"), I'm sure I wasn't the only one trying to keep back the tears.

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At the Vietnam Wall, letters were left for passersby to read. Letters expressing all emotions. Heartbreak, anger, bitterness, forgiveness, love, and gratitude. One read, 

Hello,

I graduated from high school in 1970. My brother (Daniel) was drafted in 1967. When I dated some of the men who had just received their draft cards, they told me they would "probably" die in the war... I tried to comfort them and told them I was very proud of them. 

I know some were killed, because they didn't return. A few of them came to my house and asked me what they should do - because they were weighing whether or not to go. I could only tell them to do as their knowledge told them what they felt was the right thing to do. 

I've never visited The Wall in Washington, D.C., but I am traveling to that area this September, and I won't be afraid if I see some names I recognize. These men died for me and also for all the people in America. They did not die in vain.

I've never forgotten them - I never will.

Ms. Frank (Daniel's sister)

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Without getting too heady and philosophical, I truly believe there are seasons and holidays which act as a natural conduit for humans to interact with each other. Maybe we shouldn't need it, but they give us an excuse to talk to strangers and step out of our comfort zone without the usual "awkwardness."

On this day, something about the meaningful solemnity of it gave off a bit of this warmth and affability. Even an openness to share difficult stories with complete strangers. 

Throughout the afternoon, I found myself listening to heart-wrenching stories from veterans I'd only met minutes before, as they told me about war, of friends they'd lost, pointing to the names on the wall, or showing me their photographs.

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Notes from May 29:

I met 173rd Airborne veteran, Samuel, at the Vietnam Wall yesterday. He had been in D.C. with his reunion the last week and decided to stay an extra day to visit the wall for the very first time.

As all Texans eventually meet up (he was from Austin and I from San Antonio), we got to talking. I asked him about the name his son and he had just pointed out, Charles Watters.

He spoke softly and thoughtfully as he told me that in the few weeks before Thanksgiving, 1967, his unit had had a fierce fight with the VC. The casualties on both sides were enormous, and over 143 paratroopers were killed. He made it out himself, but he never forgot those couple of weeks.

In years afterwards, every Thanksgiving as his family gathered together, before the meal started, he would remind his sons, "We must always be grateful to the 143 boys who didn't make it back."

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A little while later, Samuel came up and showed me a picture. "This was my friend," he said, "I'm looking for his name down on that end. Everybody thought we looked just alike. He was a great guy. But he wasn't supposed to be killed. It wasn't supposed to happen." And he explained to me that one night in Vietnam, they'd heard noises coming from an area a little ways away. It was someone else's job to check it out, but his friend was too curious and had jumped up to see what it was. He was instantly hit.

"I tried to visit the Traveling Wall when it came to our area a couple of times..." he said. "But I just couldn't do it..."

Samuel is just one of many veterans I talked to at the Wall yesterday. Many of them with stories very similar to his.

Being with a veteran when he makes his first visit to the wall is very moving. It's a vulnerable time for them because all their barriers are suddenly taken away, and all they are left with are the raw feelings and emotions of the moment, of seeing so many thousands of names in stone, and among them their friend. But at the same time, it's beautiful to watch. To see the names remembered and the Veterans of this tragic war finding peace and healing.

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On a somewhat lighter note, it was a thrill and an honor to meet Mr. Kyung Kim, one of the brave ROK (Republic of Korea) Marines who served with our guys in Korea. And you know what, whether you're an ROK Marine or a United States Marine, a Marine is a Marine!

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Throughout the day, I kept running into these lovely fellows representing the Military Order of the Purple Heart. Angelo Wider (left) enlisted in the Army in 1964 and served with the 25th Infantry Division in Vietnam. He was nearly fatally wounded in 1966, but the bullet missed his vital organs, saving his life. He left the service in 1967.

Felix Garcia (right) of Texas is a three-time Purple Heart recipient. He served with the 1st Marine Division, and was wounded at Al Karmah and Fallujah. He's the Junior Vice Commander at the Military Order of the Purple Heart Association.

Click on the below photos for a full description

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Memorial Day is always meaningful for me, even as I remember my great-great Uncle Israel Goldberg who died overseas in 1942. But this Memorial Day was especially so. The openness strangers and veterans felt sharing their personal stories with me left me greatly touched.

I also saw again and again that gratitude is a universal language. From a 14 year-old boy speaking to his hero, to the wrinkled hand of a visiting foreigner thanking one of our veterans. Gratitude is beautiful.

And finally, in the minds of many of the veterans who participated in the various wars and conflicts America has taken part in the last 70+ years, every day is Memorial Day. If that is the case, it's only appropriate to take at least one day out of 365 to remember the boys who are "forever young."

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Greater Peoria Honor Flight / May 8, 2018

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The month of May was truly Honor Flight month for Operation Meatball. Immediately following the Chino Air Show (which I talked about last post), OM began a whirl-wind trip to Peoria, Illinois.

Just a few weeks earlier, I had received a text from my dear friend (and Operation Meatball board member) Phyllis Piraino of Greater Peoria Honor Flight that they had a spot for me on their May 8th Flight. I was beyond ecstatic. As you all know, I LOVE working with Honor Flight, and there are few hubs I'd rather fly with than Greater Peoria. They were our very first Honor Flight nearly four years ago, and because of that, we share a special bond with them. 

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Notes from May 7:

 

Nearly 4 years ago we met our first Honor Flight at the WWII Memorial: Greater Peoria Honor Flight (GPHF). Today I got to see our very first Honor Flight vet, Bob L-, and tomorrow I fly out with GPHF for their V-E Day Honor Flight. Excited doesn't even begin to describe it. But it's a start. We have a bright and early start in the AM, so DC peeps: stay tuned for some pretty happy vets about to head your way!

 
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The night before a trip, GPHF hosts a Pre-Flight Dinner. This is a wonderful opportunity for the vets to get together, meet, break the ice, give any final information for the trip the next day, and enjoy a hearty meal!

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The details that go into this dinner are numerous. In fact, this is one of the things we first noticed about GPHF which sets it apart: their attention to detail and community effort. It isn't a millionaire who sends the vets to D.C., it is the hard work of the local community. During the last school year alone, students from grade schools in Peoria raised $106,480 to send their heroes, the veterans of the Greater Peoria area, to DC!! This is just incredible.

From the adorable goody bags decorated by local children, to the incredible pre-flight dinner, the veterans can't help but feel completely loved and honored for their service.

Flight Day!

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Mornings are early with Honor Flight, but the energy is always high enough to make up for it. First comes check-in, then photos, followed by the easiest trip through security that you'll ever experience. 

Popping around, asking the vets if they were ready for the day, I heard from one of our Korean War vets that he had already had the most wonderful time, and he didn't know how it could get better. "Wait a minute! You can't say that," I told him. "It's 4:30 am in the morning, and we haven't even left Peoria yet." But he insisted. His cup was almost filled up with the happiness he had experienced in the last 24 hours. "Just you wait..." was all I could tell him, and I had to leave him contentedly thinking it couldn't get better. 

Coffee and donuts provided by the Salvation Army, the National Anthem played by two darling little girls on the violin, and we are off!! 

Arrival in DC!

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Whenever an Honor Flight lands in D.C., the entire terminal is notified, and everything is put on hold to greet these heroes with handshakes, clapping, even a little music. Of course, the vets are not expecting this, and I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of moist eyes among the group.

National World War Two Memorial

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First Stop: The National World War Two Memorial for the May 8, V-E Day Program. This was extra special for our group as we had 7 World War Two veterans on this flight who were invited to participate in the ceremony. 

Photo credit: Greater Peoria Honor Flight

Needless to say, the memorials never get old ~ each visit is a new experience, a new memory. But visiting the WWII Memorial with WWII vets, and on such a significant anniversary as May 8, the end of World War Two... it's really hard to beat that.

Some of the WWII vets presented the wreaths for the VE Day ceremony.

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Sunny and warm, but a perfect day. And these two kept us smiling the entire day.

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I always love to see the veterans getting together and chatting... no longer strangers.

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Two of our WWII,s. 

Photo Credit: The fabulous Tami Stieger 

Photo Credit: The fabulous Tami Stieger 

Surprise visit from a few of my BWI Brownies!

The Vietnam Wall

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Each memorial holds a special significance to me... the Vietnam Wall is no exception. For the sake of time, I'll just share one story with you from this emotional memorial...

Notes from May 12 / A highlight from Greater Peoria Honor Flight's trip on Tuesday was visiting the Vietnam wall with our Nam vets. I was able to help Archie find a few of his friends' names (many of them childhood friends)... but the most touching moment came when he told me the story of an officer of his who's name is on the wall:

It was Friday the 13th. Archie and 12 other men were on a patrol in Vietnam. Communications were poor and before he knew it they were being fired on - by their own men. They had unknowingly run into a brother unit who took them for VC. In a matter of moments, every man in his 13-man patrol was wounded, and the officer (fresh out of OTS) was killed. It is one of the tragic accidents of war, and sadly there are too many stories similar to Archie's.

Each visit to the wall is uniquely special... but this is one I will remember for a long time. 

Air Force Memorial

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I ended up spending the entire time at the Air Force Memorial listening as this kind and gentle man, Mr. Avery, explained to me how meaningful this whole experience had been for him. At the end of the day, as we disembarked from the plane back in Peoria, his eyes were full of tears. No words needed to translate that.

Welcome Home

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Moving forward because it's impossible to capture every moment in one blogpost (those of you who suffered through our post[s] several years ago when the girls and I were guardians for two 95 year-old Air Force vets know what I'm talking about)... The Welcome-Home.

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I've never teared up at a Welcome-Home before. But I certainly did here (I'll just blame it on Mr. Avery for getting me started). I walked down the line taking photos of the countless people holding signs, cheering the veterans, hugging and kissing, thanking the veterans, the bagpipes, the families greeting their loved ones... I'm still getting chokey thinking about it.

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Honestly, this was the best Welcome-Home I've ever been to. I'm not good at estimated numbers, but I can say that the entire airport terminal was packed (and I mean PACKED) with people. 

The entire day was a magical one for our vets, and I'm afraid I've only been able to give you a few inadequate highlights. The work that goes into each flight is just enormous, and I can't say enough about the whole GPHF crew, who are really the heart and soul of this Honor Flight hub! And the biggest hug and thanks to Phyllis for including me! 

Finally, the number one word that comes to mind with Honor Flight is Healing. Whether it is tough memories that won't fade, or possibly hard feelings over long overdue recognition, these dear men, who served our country in good times and in bad, come home with a new feeling of respect, healing, and value. 

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Chino Planes of Fame Airshow / May 5-6, 2018

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Liberty with WWII Veteran, George Ciampa at the Planes of Fame Air Show

Liberty with WWII Veteran, George Ciampa at the Planes of Fame Air Show

The first weekend in May, I was invited out by the Veteran's History Project to the Planes of Fame Airshow in Chino, California. This event has been on my bucket list for several years now, and it did not disappoint!! My friend, Don Baer, head of the Veteran's History Project, had tirelessly worked for months to bring together a stellar group of guest veterans which included such names as:

Dick Cole: the last surviving Doolittle Raider
Lauren Bruner: USS Arizona Survivor
Ed Lopez: WW2 & Korean War P-47 Pilot
Doc Pepping: Combat Medic with the 101st Airborne Division
Sarge Lenticum: Vietnam veteran who served 3 tours with the 101st Airborne
Muriel Engelman: Army Nurse - Battle of the Bulge
Bob Friend: Tuskegee Airman
Vince Speranza: 101st Airborne - Battle of the Bulge, and many, many more.

D-Day veterans, Pearl Harbor veterans, Air Corps, Flying Tigers... The years, the history, the experience, all gathered together, under one tent. It was spectacular. 

Each day the tent would fill with spectators of all ages, excited to meet Living History. Little children who just wanted to shake the hand of a veteran, retired servicemen and women who wanted to talk aviation with the WWII ace, the airborne reenactor who wanted to meet the original Paratrooper, and then the random sightseer who was there for the planes and hotdog stands, knowing little about history or WWII, but left filled with respect, admiration, and a new understanding of the sacrifices made for our country. 

Vince Speranza (101st Airborne WWII) talks with P-47 Pilot, Ed Lopez

I didn't see much of the air show (typical for me) as I ended up spending most the time chatting away with the veterans. How could I not?? It was such a fabulous opportunity to visit with men from all areas of the war.

I shared a few words, and a few laughs with USS Arizona survivor, Lauren Bruner, the first afternoon. Mr. Bruner had a dramatic escape from this tragic ship, suffering 73% burns.

A few months after Pearl Harbor, despite his terrible injuries, his knowledge and abilities were needed, and he was called up by the Navy. Four years later, his war ended in Tokyo Bay with the surrender of the Japanese.  

Wilbur Richardson: B-17 Ball Turret Gunner - 30 missions.

Sometimes I wonder if Doc Pepping is the reason the sun comes up every morning. His cheerful personality and hilarious sense of humor makes him a delight to be around. During the war, Doc parachuted into Normandy on D-Day serving as a combat medic with the 101st Airborne. 

It's always great to see our friends from the Airborne Demonstration Team!

WWII Veteran, Vince Speranza, keeping the attention of these young fellas. 

WWII Veteran Larry Stevens surprised us with a visit to the Veteran's tent. After chatting a few minutes with Mr. Stevens, I learned that he was in the same bomb group as the uncle of a close family friend. From then on we were buddies. Mr. Stevens is another man who helps the sun to rise in the morning with his grateful, cheerful, optimistic personality. After meeting him, it was impossible to stop smiling.

Veterans Ed McMullen (Flying Tigers) and Col. Dick Cole waiting to be presented with a special award from the Chinese government. 

Mr. and Mrs. McMullen. Mr. McMullen was a B24 nose-gunner who flew "the hump" in the China-Burma-India theater with the 308th Heavy Bomb Group, "Flying Tigers." Meanwhile Mrs. McMullen worked as a Riveter at a Lockheed defense plant. She had one brother serving in the Pacific and the other at the Battle of the Bulge. Thankfully, both made it home. Mr. and Mrs. McMullen have been married for over 70 years and are just as precious as can be.

Jack Gutman, a Navy Corpsman not only at the D-Day Invasion of Normandy, but also the Battle of Okinawa in the Pacific. 

WWII and Korean War veteran, Ed Lopez sits behind his impressive medal display. 

Last photo, but definitely not the least!! My new friend, Bob Friend. On day 1 of the air show, Mr. Friend and his daughter were the first to arrive. So I got to spend a good half hour chatting away before the rest of the group arrived, followed by the crowds. During the war, Mr. Friend served with the elite Tuskegee Airmen. But though we talked a good deal about his service in the war, hearing about his fascinating and hilarious family was really the icing on the cake. Couldn't have been a better start to the air show weekend.

It was a smashing weekend at Chino. Many, many thanks to Don Baer and the team of the Planes of Fame - Veteran's History Project who worked tirelessly all weekend (and long before) making it an awesome experience for the veterans and spectators. 

My Two English Gramps

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I think it is no coincidence that the two men who most profoundly impacted my interest and passion in preserving the history of WW2 were born on the same day. Les Womack and Peter Scott, my two English Grandpas. Today would have been their 95th and 92nd birthdays.

I was 14 when I met them. It was my first time in Normandy, France.

Gramps Womack was staying at our hotel on Juno Beach. He had the loveliest lilting Yorkshire accent and was the ultimate gentleman, proud of his service in the British Army during WW2.

Grandpa Scott was touring the D-Day beaches with his Navy chums. He was a "refined cockney," whose years in the Royal Navy had left him with a swagger and a brilliant sense of humor.

Shortly after, between emails, letters, and phones calls, they became my adopted English Grandpas.

Both Gramps Womack and Grandpa Scott were simply the most wonderful to me, and I was very close with them. I have rarely written about them here, partly because the loss of both is still fresh, and partly because sometimes the most precious aspects of our lives are also the most private. However, I will say emphatically that I don't know what my life would have been without them. Certainly, there would be no Operation Meatball.

To have one adopted Gramps is a special thing. But to have unique and separate relationships with two Gramps across the ocean is something I would never have dreamed of being blessed with.

I think of them every day, but especially today. . . on their birthdays.

Always Kiss Goodnight: A Story for Valentine's Day

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With Valentine's Day coming up, I thought I'd share a sweet story with you.

The article below was written by the American-Statesman a few years ago about a simply darling couple, the Kanters. When I first read this article, I knew I must make their acquaintance, so I invited them to our first WWII Veterans Dinner in 2014. Very happily for us, they accepted the invitation, and the girls and I immediately fell in love with the both of them. Mr. Kanter was completely charming (and very handsome!) and Mrs. Kanter was fabulously spunky. Walking up to an Army veteran at our dinner she declared, "If you see a good looking man in a black sports coat, watch out. He is Navy all the way." When the veteran made a comment about the Army's superiority, she deftly defended her husband and the Navy. Sadly, Mrs. Kanter passed away not too long after the dinner. To know her was an absolute delight. 

With that brief background, here is the article:

Mr. Kanter at our 2014 Veterans Dinner.

Always Kiss Goodnight

Helen Anders

American-Statesman Thursday, Feb. 21, 2013 

It was Halloween night 1944, and a new student at the University of Texas, Irene Wolfson, had a date to a Longhorns football game. Told a blue norther was coming in, but not knowing quite what that was because she’d just arrived from Florida, Irene dressed smartly in a one-button suit with a yellow angora sweater.

“I go out to get in the car,” Irene recalls, “and driving is this sailor with coal-black hair and a fantastic smile.” That, however, was not Irene’s date, although her date was also in the car. The sailor, Marvin Kanter, on shore leave from the Navy, had a date of his own. Still, during the evening when it became clear that Irene had under-dressed for the norther, he lent her his pea coat. The next day, Marvin left to catch a ship out of San Francisco.

“All the way to California, I was picking yellow angora off my pea coat,” he says. His memory of Irene stuck with him just like the angora, and when he was back in Austin — two years later, after World War II had ended — he tracked her down for a date. Then he went home to Missouri and she to Florida, but they corresponded. Irene’s mother saw his picture in her daughter’s room and instantly disapproved.

“He has a weak chin,” she tsked. Undeterred, Irene proposed to Marvin when they got together one weekend in 1947.

“What are your future plans?” Marvin asked Irene, who quickly answered: “I plan to marry you and settle down.” In 1949, they did just that, opting to move to Austin, where Irene quickly landed a job with a fabric store and Marvin worked for a pharmaceuticals wholesaler.

“I don’t think anyone expected the marriage to last,” Irene muses. But here they are, 64 years later. Irene wound up teaching school, then becoming an administrator, serving as assistant principal of Anderson High School for 20 years. Marvin took a job with the Texas Railroad Commission and spent 34 years of weekends officiating at football games, many of them attended by Irene and their daughter, Shelly.

“Remember that time we put hotdog wrappers on our feet to keep warm?” Shelly remembers, and both her parents laugh.

Mr. and Mrs. Kanter at our 2014 Veterans Dinner.

Mr. and Mrs. Kanter at our 2014 Veterans Dinner.

Now retired, Marvin and Irene take a swim in their pool at exactly 4 p.m. every day (unless it’s too cold) and follow that up with a 5 p.m. cocktail hour. They may be out of the business world, but they’re far from idle. They work from time to time as extras in movies shooting in Austin — in fact, they enjoyed a decent amount of screen time behind Sandra Bullock in a restaurant scene in “Miss Congeniality” — and they travel relentlessly, heading out for a tour of interior Alaska just four weeks after Irene had hip surgery. Talking about all this, they grin at each other like newlyweds.

“We have a lot of fun together,” Irene says.

“We laugh a lot, and we try to stay young,” Marvin says. “And whether the day has gone smooth or rough, at the end of the day, we kiss each other.”

“Sometimes it’s hard when you’ve had a fuss,” Irene says, “but we do.”

http://www.statesman.com/lifestyles/always-kiss-good-night/3rPiyfI7ktv4v9tooYr2RN/

Henry Vaden and the Language of the Eyes

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Three years ago this January, the girls and I were given a special gift. The gift of friendship with one of the kindest and gentlest of souls I've had the pleasure of knowing, Henry Vaden. It was a short-lived friendship, just shy of 3 months, but it remains in my memory as one of the most special and unique friendships. 

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It all started in December of 2014, when we received note from a lady (who has since become a very dear friend) writing us to see if we would visit her father, a WWII Battle of the Bulge veteran who lived in a nursing home just a few miles from us. She lived many, many states away and was unable to make it down to Texas. Of course we were delighted to make a visit on her behalf, though we little knew at the time what an impact her father, Mr. Vaden, would have on our lives. 

I've never known the phrase, "The eyes are the window to the soul," to be more true than with Mr. Vaden. Until I met him, I'd never really noticed people's eyes. However since then, I've learned that one can attempt to lie through the mouth, but it's hard to deceive with the eyes. In an instant, before you can even utter words, your eyes have already spoken, giving away what happiness or sadness you may be feeling in your heart at the time. For Mr. Vaden, his smiling eyes spoke a language of their own, even while he did not speak. 

During our visits with Mr. Vaden, the girls and I quickly learned to communicate with him through his eyes. They showed optimism and contentedness. If he felt poorly, they never complained. The constant twinkle in his eyes kept us on our toes. How was he feeling that day? Did he like the song Faith sang? Lunch was better than yesterday? That's good news. 

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One afternoon we brought him an old LIFE Magazine from early 1945.

During WWII, Mr. Vaden had served in the 106th Infantry, barely escaping capture by the Germans during the Battle of the Bulge. Years had made the details of his war a little foggy and hard to remember, so I thought bringing this LIFE might bring back some forgotten memories. Flipping through the magazine, the girls and I gave him a chatty commentary on the photos and articles. We watched his eyes scan the pages with much interest, looking for what was familiar to him, laughing simultaneously at the way we rambled on.

Did he remember this General? 

His eyes said, "Not really."

Do you remember when the Germans advanced here? 

"Yes." His eyes said.

Oh, here are some photos from the Battle of the Bulge. Was it terribly cold there?

"Brr. Too cold," He conveyed. "Turn the page." 

My favorite part came when we arrived at a full-page advertising a new General Electric Radio with the fabulous Carmen Miranda, well known for her wacky hats, platform shoes, and tongue-twisting latin music. We didn't even have a chance to ask, "Do you remember Carmen Miranda?" before his face said it all.

"Of course I remember her!" His eyes seemed to say. "How can you forget her fruit-salad hats!?" 

His expressions were so hilarious, we all burst out laughing. Our follow up question was, did Mr. Vaden's wife ever wear one of the funny little hats like Carmen Miranda? Well... maybe not as crazy. 

"Oh did she ever!" He almost rolled his eyes. But it was followed by a genuine smile saying, "They might have been funny, but I loved them."

And that is how our weekly visits went. Some days Mr. Vaden felt well enough to say a few words. There was one morning I'll never forget. As we walked into his hospital room, he greeted us with a bright smile and a verbal, "Good morning girls!" We were so surprised that we just stood there for a moment astonished. "You look so much better!" We finally laughed.

"I feel better!" He answered back with real words.

He spoke with a twinkle in his eye as if to say, "Ha. I thought I would surprise you. You never know what to expect from me!"

And he laughed. The most wonderful laugh. We had heard from his daughter that he had the most wonderful sense of humor. Of course he did. 

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You really can't underestimate this power of speechless conversation until you have tried it with someone. It is compelling. On days when he didn't feel so keen, and Faith would just sing him a song or two, we would watch his eyes as he sang along. Hymns, songs from the 40s, the 50s, 60s; he knew almost all of them. I remember clearly being often moved by the expressions on his face as he listened. That's another thing that should never be underestimated. The power of music to bring back memories long forgotten. Once when Faith sang, "White Cliffs of Dover," such a multitude of thoughts crossed his face, sweet memories mixed with some bitter ones, maybe from the war? I watched in awe wondering what a beautiful life this man must have lived and just what a blessing it was to know him.

As Mr. Vaden began to decline, it was harder and harder to say goodbye after each visit. We never knew when it would be the last time, and we had fallen in love with this dear man. My last visit with him was in early March, 2015. I was supposed to head out of town on a business trip in a day or two. He was sleeping peacefully, so I whispered goodbye to him and left. He passed away while I was gone.

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It's been almost exactly 3 years since I first walked into his nursing home. But I can honestly say those weekly visits with him changed my life. In his quiet way, with his beautiful smile and twinkling eyes, he taught me so much. He taught me about Contentedness. I doubt he would have complained about anything, even given the opportunity. He was always Grateful. If it was a sunny day, he expressed gratitude. It was a rainy day, he expressed gratitude. Even when he felt most ill, there was still a twinkle of Humor about him.

He was Patriotic. The war was a long way back in his mind. Hard to remember things. But he was so proud of the service he gave his country in WWII. I often spoke with him about how the people of France and Belgium still remember his service. His face would beam with noble pride over it.

And how important was Family to him? You only had to mention a name and his face would fill with the deep love he had for his family. No matter the day, he always made an effort to pass a message along to his beloved daughters. 

He also opened my eyes to a different type of friendship. Not your regular friendship, but a very, very special one. A type of friendship that doesn't require many words because the kindness of heart is expressed through the eyes and smile. And what a smile! 

On that first visit, the girls and I hoped to bring a little joy to Mr. Vaden. But instead, he was the one who always brought joy to us!  I wouldn't trade anything for those weekly visits or his beautiful smile. 

I will always be grateful for my brief friendship with this precious, godly soul. I know I often thank the Lord for putting it into his daughter Angela's heart to contact us. And our continued friendship with her has only added to the wonderful blessing of knowing the man with the wonderful smile, Mr. Vaden.