A word of thanks is due.
About seventy years ago few of the folks hereabouts [San Diego] were having much time to bask in the sea breeze, splash in the surf, gorge on local gourmet restaurant fare, spend carefree moments just wandering the seashore shops. When they weren't enduring very serious training, they were writing to console, reassure, comfort their terrified loved ones, often a continent away, and then trying to find sleep or other distraction from their own terrors in the face of world war.
Those young marines, sailors, soldiers, and airmen, many of whom never reached the ages of of my two wonderful offspring, were differently occupied because they wanted their progeny to enjoy this coast, as we do this week, in joy and freedom.
One of those guys was Charles Columbus Shaw, who would live to become my father, younger at the time than my youngest is today. He would crowd aboard navy ships with his brothers bound for the largest Navy base in the world (created -- in about a month's time -- out of atolls at Ulithi in the Pacific) from which to battle the Japanese.
Thank you, Daddy. And thanks to all your comrades, past and present, whose sacrifices make our lavish (really) lifestyles possible.
Comments
Galen Dale Foster
Terry you have spoken so truly about "The Great Generation."
Ann Gore Terrell, loved San Diego! Hope y'all make it to Balboa Park. Wonderful place!
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