Currently viewing the tag: "Our Neighborhood Veterans"

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

My View of the Honor Guard and Why I Am Proud to be a Part of It

by Jim Houck, Jr.

I am a member of the Sons of AMVETS Squadron 7 Thurmont, and I really enjoy the welcoming feeling the people at the post have conveyed to me since I joined. I consider myself a part of the family of Veterans, Auxiliary, and Sons, who work together to make our post one of the best in America.

The different factions and functions of our family make whatever we choose to venture into almost always a success. I say almost because we are not perfect; but, we are working on it. The officers of the post are always thinking about ways to improve our post and you can see the improvements with each visit.

We strive to help our Veterans and our community every day. AMVETS Post 7 has an award-winning Honor Guard, led by Ed McKinnon, who are invited to post colors at many events and to participate in several parades. The members stand guard at Veteran’s funerals and do graveside services, such as the folding and presentation of the flag to the next of kin and a rifle volley with the playing of taps at the end of the firing. I was asked to join the Honor Guard and, at first, I thought they were joking, because I was sixty-six years old and I thought they would not want an old overweight codger like me on an award-winning team. Boy, was I wrong, as they already had men older than I am on their team. So, I said yes and attended my first meeting with them, not knowing what to expect. I have to say, I was hooked after that meeting and never again thought about not joining.

Ed McKinnon was, and is, a very patient man, who will teach, with the help of all the other great guys on the team, everything you need to know. He doesn’t expect you to learn everything all at once, which is why he holds practice each month or as often as needed. I know without practice that I would get rusty and forget things when I needed them, and I want to do the best job possible. I remember when Ed told me to go get fitted for a uniform. I went to the tailor shop to get fitted; it really didn’t take as long as I thought it would. They told me the uniform would be ready in about two weeks and they would call me. I called Ed, explaining what they had said. He said he would call them and tell them to call him first, so he could take them the things they needed to sew on the uniform that they would not have.

I waited and I waited. It was three weeks and I had heard nothing from them. I called Ed and he said he would give them a call, which he did. They told him the uniform got lost in shipping. I had never heard of such a thing, but the only thing I could do was wait. I was told by Billy—one of the team—that Omar the Tent Maker was on strike, and they couldn’t make my uniform until he returned. I mumbled under my breath a few syllables and went merrily on my way. I had to go for another fitting, and they stated they would call me when it was in so they could make adjustments. They didn’t give me a time frame this time, so I waited and finally got the call. I went immediately down there, and I walked out with my uniform in hand. I think Ed probably had a little talk with them when he took the patches and things down to them. I think he probably threatened to take his brother Donnie down for a visit if they didn’t have the uniform soon.

When I got home, I tried it on and had a picture taken—I was so proud. I was so proud, not of the way I looked in it, but the way I felt in it.

Then came my first parade to march in and, boy, was I ready for it—all 5 feet 8 inches, 270 pounds of me. I was carrying a rifle on the left side of our Flag. I was marching and stepping right along for about four blocks, and then it happened: I could feel my pants starting to fall. I tried hearing marching orders, while handling my rifle with one hand and pulling up my pants with the other, but it got too frustrating and I had to drop out. I was humiliated and upset at myself for having no butt or hips to hold up my belt and pants. I was offered a chair and some water from a kind lady watching the parade, who told me she knew as red as I was, the heat was just too much for me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her my pants were falling down, and that was the reason I was so red.

The next parade, the same thing happened, and, again, a lady offered me a seat and water and made the same remark to which I again offered no explanation and just said, “Thank you.”

Ed came looking for me after the parade each time and walked me back to meet the rest of the team. He is a thoughtful and caring person who watches everything and who will not put his men in jeopardy.

I feel the Honor Guard Team has accepted me for who I am, and I certainly have accepted them. I truly believe the Honor Guard of Post 7 to be a vital part of the AMVETS organization. By the way, Billy had his pants fall down in one of the biggest parades of the year, falling all the way down to his ankles. Omar the Tent Maker, indeed!

I am seventy-five years old now and still a member, and still as proud of my teammates as I was the very first day I joined. We are also the Honor Guard for the Department of Maryland, and we are really proud of that as well. Ed McKinnon is still our captain, and as far as I’m concerned, the best Honor Guard leader in our AMVETS Organization!

God Bless the United States of America, God Bless the American Veteran, and God Bless You.

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Jim Houck, Jr.

Specialist 4th Class Thomas Eugene Joy

173rd Airborne Brigade

Tom Joy was born on December 5, 1948, at Annie M Warner Hospital Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, to Austin L. and Catherine E. (Walter) Joy, and was taken home to live with them on East Main Street in Emmitsburg. Tom is the youngest member of his family, having five sisters and two brothers. Tom and his siblings went to St. Euphemia’s Elementary School and went on to graduate from St. Joseph’s High School. Baseball was Tom’s favorite sport, and he loved playing the game. He also played basketball while attending high school. He enjoyed fishing and hunting (ask him about chicken hunting) with the friends he went to school with—Terry Myers, Mike Orndorff, John Sherwin, and Eddie Pryor—and he still hunts and fishes with most of them. Tom, Terry, Mike, Eddie, and a few other friends and classmates went to Trenton, New Jersey, over Christmas vacation one year to some classes to see what it would be like to become a priest. While there, they attended a party and met some girls, thereby deciding to forget the priesthood and go for the girls and fun, instead. Tom also liked doing donuts in a Volkswagen at the old carnival grounds and hitting phone poles; however, he could never fool his dad with his faulty explanations of why the dents were in the VW. Tom, like so many Emmitsburgians, worked at Mount St. Mary’s College (not yet co-ed or a University at that time), washing pots and pans while attending high school.

Tom joined the U.S. Army while in high school and wasn’t to report until July of 1967. Yet, shortly after graduating high school in 1967, his recruiting officer contacted him and asked him to report early in June because they didn’t have enough numbers for that month. Tom agreed to report early. Tom and his friend, Eddie Pryor, left at the same time for basic training to Fort Bragg, and from there to Fort Ord for military police training, and then on to Fort Benning, Georgia, for jump school and paratrooper training. He made five jumps while there. Tom was sent to the southern part of Vietnam after his training was completed as a military policeman. He was assigned to help guard prisoners of war. Tom said if you heard the bang and the whoosh whoosh whoosh sound, it meant outgoing mortar, but if you heard whoosh whoosh whoosh, find cover fast in a bunker before the bang because that meant it was incoming. When he first got to Vietnam, he was assigned to a tact corporation center that was a big area with wire all around it. If any dignitaries were there, they were in this one hooch. If there was incoming fire, he went in and woke the dignitaries to get them into a bunker, so no harm came to them. On his first night on watch, sure enough, incoming fire started coming in, so Tom went to the hooch. It was pitch black in there, and he felt around but someone was in the cot, so he hurried to get the heck out of there and find a bunker for himself. In his next bunker, he felt around for hand grenades and shells. When he discovered that he had jumped into an ammo bunker, he said it didn’t take him long to get out of there. Tom recalls a time he got into hot water because he didn’t shave, even though not shaving was allowed. His CO told him he was an MP and he wanted him to shave every day and to report to him after duty. Tom did, and the CO said to get a shovel and dig a 6 x 6 x 6 hole. He dug the hole and the CO came to inspect it. He said Tom did a nice job, then told him to fill it back in. With that punishment, Tom learned his lesson and shaved every day thereafter. Tom was honorably discharged from the army in 1970.

He met Ruth (his soul mate and wife) and they started dating. One day, they were in Thurmont, and Tom said he was hungry. So, he parked in front of Charlie and Pete Angel’s Sweet Shop. He asked Ruth to hold out her hand. She thought he was giving her a ring, but he handcuffed her to the steering wheel—as a joke—while he went in and ate. She thought they were toy handcuffs and tried to pull out of them. But the harder she pulled, the tighter they got since they were his MP cuffs. By the time Tom came out of the Sweet Shop, they were causing Ruth a lot of pain, and she was so mad at him. Despite the tricks he pulled on her, Tom and Ruth were married, and have two beautiful daughters: Lisa (born on Tom’s birthday) and Tina. Tom and Ruth lived above Green’s Bakery on West Main Street in Emmitsburg by the dough boy when they first got married. A few years later, they moved to Emmit Gardens, where they still reside today. Tom went to work for Moore Business Forms after he was discharged from the Army. He retired from there in May of 1997, after thirty-six years of service. He is enjoying every minute of his retirement.

Tom is a life member of the VFW and the AMVETS and Post Commander of the AMVETS Post 7 Thurmont, as well as a member of Post 7’s Honor Guard. Tom plays a part in most of the functions. He also belongs to Post 121 The American Legion Emmitsburg. Tom does a lot of volunteer time at St. Catherine’s Nursing Center in Emmitsburg and at Martinsburg W.V. Veterans Administration. He is also a social member of the Vigilant Hose Company in Emmitsburg. Tom and Ruth’s children and grandchildren— Samantha Star, Nicholas Scott, and Mathew Jacob—all live nearby, and they enjoy family functions together. I have been told when you go to a ball game, everywhere you look, there are Joys filling the seats. Tom loves a good joke, but when it comes to volunteering and helping Veterans, he is dead serious. I hope you have had as much joy reading this article as I had in writing this article. I wish Tom and the entire Joy family a happy and fulfilling future.

Note: This column that I wrote about Tom was originally published in The Catoctin Banner in August of 2012. Tom hasn’t changed much, except for getting a little older and being elected as Post 7 AMVETS Commander. Wait a minute…there was the time in 2014 when Tom and his wife, Ruth, were both voted in as AMVETS of the Year! Tom is still very active with Post participation and volunteer work for the Veterans and the community. Folks, if you meet Tom on the street or at the grocery store or in a restaurant (Tom hangs out at Post 7 AMVETS, a lot), please say hello, shake his hand, and thank him for all he does. Tom Joy is a Veteran and a “great human being,” and I am so proud to call him a friend.

Pictured from left are Jim Houck, Jr., Ruth (Tom’s wife), and Tom Joy. Tom won the AMVET of the Year Award, Ruth won the AMVET Auxiliary Member of the Year Award, and Jim Houck, Jr. won the AMVET Son of the Year Award.

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

Lyman Stambaugh

Spec 4 U.S. Army, Co. A 2nd Battle Group 28th Inf., 24th Div.

by Jim Houck, Jr.

Born December 15, 1936, in Thurmont in the old Rouzer Home Place (still standing today) to Maurice Melvin and Ethel Favorite Stambaugh, was a son they named Lyman. Lyman had four sisters: Francis, Doris, Lois, and Cecelia; and a brother named Charles, who died at an early age; and a stepbrother, Lee, who was killed in Korea in 1951, and is buried at Creagerstown, Maryland. The family moved to Woodsboro, Maryland, and Lyman went to school there through the third grade. His family then moved back to Thurmont, where Lyman was born. Lyman finished his schooling at Thurmont, where he excelled at playing baseball for the school team for three years, starting as short stop the first year and moving to third baseman for his last two years. He also subbed for the catcher, losing two teeth, and he was also on the school’s soccer team until he graduated in 1955. Lyman delivered newspapers and then started to work for Vernon Myers at the old Shell station in 1953, while in high school, and then continued to work there after graduating school.

In December 1959, Lyman joined the U.S. Army 82nd Airborne and went to Fort Polk, Louisiana, for four weeks of basic training; he then went on to Fort Hood, Texas, where he was assigned to the 2nd Armored Division (Lyman didn’t like jumping from planes, so they left him out of that). Following that assignment, he went to Fort Dix with orders for Korea; however, after the orders were changed, he went to Fort Hamilton and was put on the U.S. Darvy for fourteen days, headed for Germany. He was to be stationed right outside of Munich, Germany, in a little place called Henri Concern, and then was assigned to Berlin, where he pulled guard duty while the Berlin Wall was being finished. He then returned to Munich, Germany; while there, he took leave to visit Spain (Barcelona, Madrid) and ran with the bulls. He was then sent to Cairo, Egypt, for some problems that needed police action. Lyman was getting ready for discharge in 1961, but the Bay of Pigs incident developed. He was put on an airplane and flown to the Congo, where he was squad leader for a while, but he didn’t like it. He then went to Rome, Italy, where he was inoculated before he could return to Germany. When Lyman returned to Germany, he was awarded the CIB Badge—a Good Conduct Badge—and a Sharpshooter Badge. Lyman got out in May 1962. However, at that time, it was mandatory to stay in the reserves, in case there would be a call to action in Vietnam, if necessary. A full Honorable Discharge was awarded to Lyman in 1965.

Lyman returned to Thurmont and went back to work for Vernon Myers at the gas station. He decided to go to work for Moore’s Business Forms, where he stayed for thirty-one years and then retired. After retiring, he went back to work at Moore’s for another fourteen years as a temporary employee, for a total of forty-four years. He also continued to work for Vernon Myers fourteen years part-time, while working full-time for Moore’s. Lyman has been married forty-nine years to Betty Lou Smith Stambaugh and has two children: Kim Cromwell, and her husband, Jim; and Lyman C. Stambaugh, and his wife, Carol. Lyman also has three grandchildren: Jamie West and husband, Curtis; Megan Miller and Corey; Samantha Stambaugh; and a great grandson, Curtis C. J. West. He remembers his first car was a 1941 Chevrolet with vacuum shift. He met his love, Betty Lou Smith, at Donald Lewis’s Confectionary on the square, where she worked behind the counter. I’m sure if that old Chevy could talk, it would tell a lot of stories. Lyman, Betty Lou, and the kids lived in Sabillasville, Maryland, for thirty-four years, and then moved within walking distance of his full-time job.

Lyman is a life member of AMVETS Post 7 Thurmont and a life member of the American Legion Thurmont, where he was Post Commander for two years in 1985 and 1986. He is a member of Post 7 Honor Guard and marches in most parades, stands guard at funerals, and fires at graveside services. He is a life member of South Mountain Rod and Gun Club, and likes to fish and hunt. He is seventy-five years old, going on fifty, and I am proud to know him. He is energetic, intelligent, funny, and an extremely pleasant and easy-going man. I can picture him at one hundred years old, marching in parades with that big smile on his face. Thank God for such a positive good-hearted Veteran as Lyman Stambaugh.

God Bless the United States of America, God Bless the American Veteran, and God Bless You.

Lyman Stambaugh, Spec 4 U.S. Army

Courtesy Photo

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

Remembering Jim Spalding

by Jim Houck, Jr.

James Irvin Spalding, life-long resident of Thurmont, passed away peacefully in his home on May 19, 2014, at the age of seventy-five. He was the loving husband of Ellen L. Sutton Spalding for twenty-three years.

Born January 23, 1939, in Thurmont, he was the son of the late Charles “Hamp” Spalding and Helen M. Gourley Spalding. Jim served in the United States Air Force for four years. He worked for the Maryland State Highway Administration as a Maintenance Foreman for thirty-four years, and earned—along with his father, Charles “Hamp” Spalding, and brother, Don Spalding—a family accolade for 109 of combined service to the organization (Jim worked thirty-four years, Don worked for thirty-seven years, and Hamp worked for thirty-eight years).

Jim was a member of Trinity United Church of Christ, a life-member and past Post Commander of AMVETS Post 7 in Thurmont, a member of the American Legion Post 121 in Emmitsburg, a member of the South Mountain Rod and Gun Club, and a member of the Guardian Hose Company in Thurmont.

Jim was an athlete. At Thurmont High School, he played soccer, basketball, and baseball. In 1956 and 1957, his team won the Frederick County Championship for basketball. He loved to dance and was good at it. He loved to have fun, tease people, and laugh with them. He loved to cook and have his family for Sunday and holiday dinners. He helped the fire company in preparing food for different events. He was involved with family functions and the community. On most days, he would wake early and set the coffee on for his wife, Ellen, then set about making his rounds to Bollinger’s Restaurant, to Shuff’s Meat Market, to Hobb’s Hardware, and, sometimes, to Timeless Trends, before setting back home. He was a father that never missed an event, ball game, outing, party, or celebration, and most of the time, he was the first to arrive. He didn’t promise to be there, HE WAS THERE!

Jim made sure family and friends came together for one of his favorite activities: butchering. He guarded his recipes for pon haus closely, and only shared the recipes with a few select individuals, imparting the knowledge slowly and sometimes without their knowledge. Those who had the privilege of tasting his recipes know that his are some of the best.

Jim’s daughter, Kathy Hovermale, said, “He taught me so many things, and I have a lot of funny stories I could tell you about jokes he played on me.” One story she told was about Jim walking her down the aisle on her wedding day. She recalled, “When it was just him and me in the back of the church, he kissed me, told me he loved me, then kicked the side door open and said, ‘Last chance—we can run; I’ll go with you!’” Jim found Kathy and her husband, Keith, a house that turned out to be right up the street from Jim’s house in Thurmont. Kathy said people thought she was crazy moving so close to her family. Kathy said that since moving in, “I needed them [Jim and her mother, Ellen] a thousand more times than they ever needed me. I ate their food, sat on their porch, and spent more time there bothering them than the other way around.”

Jim’s niece, Diane Miller who passed away in September of 2016, said, “We talked on the phone every day, and some days two, three, or four times, depending on what was going on. I had to keep him updated on what was going on around the farm.” She recalled his relationships with the farm animals, saying he wasn’t too fond of cats, but was very involved with all aspects of the farm. She recalled him often asking what she was going to do when he wasn’t around to help with it anymore. Diane said, “I know it’s not realistic, but I never thought that day would ever come.”

An ornery youngster, an elementary school teacher of Jim’s wrote on one of his report cards that he, “had a rather happy-go-lucky attitude about it all.” For all who knew him, that described him well. He made friends wherever he went, even befriending a lady who had mistaken him for “Steve” during a rest on a bench in a Walmart.

In addition to his wife, Jim’s family members still miss him greatly. He is survived by two daughters, Mary Mahoney and husband, Michael, of Fairfield, Pennsylvania, and Kathryn Hovermale and husband, Keith, of Thurmont; his grandson, James Austin Hovermale of Thurmont; his brothers, Donald L. Spalding and his wife, Joan, of Thurmont, and Charles E. Spalding, also of Thurmont; neice Lisa Campbell and husband, Todd, and their daughter Katy, of Hagerstown, Maryland; nephew, Mark Spalding, neice-in-law, Deb, and their children, Lydia and Hayden, of Thurmont; and nephew Randy Miller, of Sabillasville.

God Bless the United States of America, God Bless the American Veteran, and God Bless You.

James Irvin Spalding

Courtesy Photo

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Jim Houck, Jr.

Veterans and Why They Mean So Much To Me

I was born in 1943. My father, James A. Houck Sr., was somewhere in Germany serving our country. I hadn’t met him yet, because he was deployed before I was born. I was three years old when I finally got to meet Dad. My mother, her siblings (there were thirteen of them), and her parents told me about Dad and showed me pictures of him. I was told that when he stepped off the train, I recognized him and ran straight to him.

When I was about three-and-a-half years old, my grandfather Wantz went for a walk in the woods behind his house—as he often did—and sat down on a rock and passed away. This was very hard on me, as he was like a father to me the first three years of my life. He was the one who gave me horsey rides and got down on the floor and played with me, and now he would no longer be in my life. Granddaddy was a railroad mechanic for the railroad that ran through Emmitsburg. Granddaddy was gone, and now my grandmother, Annie (I called her Nanny), was left to raise my aunts and uncles alone. Her son, (my uncle) John Joseph Wantz, was in the army, and since he was the oldest, he felt it was his job to now help Nanny raise the family. He asked for a hardship discharge and received one, and he came home to help support his mother and the family. He did a great job of helping the family survive, and the rest of the siblings and their spouses pitched in and helped where they could.

The Korean War broke out around 1951, and two of my uncles—David Bernard Wantz and James Edward Wantz—were old enough and were drafted into the army to fight in the Korean War. I can still remember my uncle Ed—he was the baby of the family and twelve years older than me—inviting Mom, Dad, Nanny, and I to Fort Indiantown Gap, where he was taking basic training, to watch him graduate. While we were there, he took me to the firing range and let me shoot a rifle. He then treated us to a movie at their post movie theater. That visit made quite an impression on me, and I thought that when I was old enough, I was going to join the army. I had quite a few uncles on my grandmother’s side of the family (Eylers) that gave service to their country in the armed services, and I would enjoy listening to their experiences while serving. I was full of questions; some would provide me with answers, and some did not want to talk about it, and I respected that also.

The men on the Houck, Blessing, Grabel, and Frounfelter sides served in the armed services, too. I had plenty of family members to keep me excited about serving our country. I wanted a good education, so I stayed in school until I graduated. I was going to enlist after graduation, but the draft was still in and they called me. So instead of enlisting, I accepted the draft. The day came for my physical exam, and I was on a bus to Fort Holabird. That day, I came back with probably the biggest disappointment of my life. I was classified 1-Y (in case of emergency only). I asked why and they said due to high blood pressure. I waited a few months and then tried to enlist, because I was told that even though I was turned down by the draft physical, if I enlisted, they would take me. Well, they didn’t, and that was another great disappointment to me.

My brother, Robert Dennis Houck, was drafted into the army about four or five years later and served. I have nephews, great nephews, and even a granddaughter who served, or are serving, their country in the military. I now serve the best way I know how by honoring our military Veterans in print, and by having the privilege of interviewing our armed service heroes and informing our community of their life in people’s neighborhoods.

I belong to several Veteran organizations (Sons of Men’s Auxiliary) and participate in every function for honoring Veterans that I am able to attend. Folks, I hope you enjoy the stories I write about Veterans as much as I enjoy writing them. I plan to write Veteran stories until I am too senile to control my thoughts (I have been told by a few that I’m already there).

I have received a lot of positive feedback about my column, and I appreciate it. So, if you should have any comments, send them to The Catoctin Banner, and they will see that I receive them.

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by James Rada, Jr.

The Living History of Chuck Caldwell

Chuck Caldwell and his father, George, came to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, on the last day of June 1938 for the 75th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg. The town decorated with banners, bunting, and lights, and was so crowded that the Caldwells couldn’t find a room to stay in and spent their first night sleeping in a chicken coop. Chuck, who was fourteen years old, didn’t mind because he had made it to Gettysburg.

Chuck and his father visited the Veterans’ Camp, which had been constructed on the north end of Gettysburg College and some adjacent private property. Union Veteran tents were located on lettered streets, from Biglerville Road to Mummasburg Road. Confederate Veteran tents lined numbered streets, from Mummasburg Road to the Reading Railroad. Only about 2,000 Veterans had made it to the reunion, although tens of thousands more people were in town.

“It was a thrill to be able to see both armies together at one time,” Chuck said. “It was just too much. I would have walked from home to be there.”

When Chuck met a Veteran, he would get the man to sign his autograph book and write down his hometown and unit. Chuck also had his picture taken with the Veteran. Chuck later added some flourishes, such as a Union or Confederate flag. When he was finished, he had nearly fifty autographs in the book.

It’s a priceless piece of history that he still cherishes.

 

A Talent For Art

Chuck was born in Princeton, Illinois, in 1923. Because his father was a minister, the Caldwells moved from town to town each time he took a new job. Although both Chuck’s father and grandfather were clergymen, Chuck didn’t want to follow in their footsteps. That was obvious from a young age.

“I was a pew climber in church,” Chuck said. “I just wouldn’t sit still.”

With George preaching at the front of the church, it fell to Ellen Caldwell to keep her ears open to the sermon and her eyes on young Chuck, as he would crawl over, under, and across the pews, disturbing nearby churchgoers.

His mother finally stopped trying to make her son sit down. Instead, she gave Chuck paper and a pencil and let him draw, hoping to focus his attention elsewhere.

It worked. Chuck became so focused on creating something on the sheet of paper that the only part of him moving during the service was his hand. He still wasn’t listening to the sermons, but at least he wasn’t disturbing everyone around him.

Chuck won his first art competition at the 1940 Wayne County Ohio Hobby Exposition, with a diorama of the railyard scene in Gone With the Wind. The display featured four hundred different clay figures, in addition to the ones he had drawn into the background scenery. The piece was so popular that a local department store displayed it in their window to help attract customers.

 

Becoming a Marine

Chuck wasn’t large enough to play football, but he was a huge fan of the game, especially the University of Alabama team. Because of this, Alabama was his only choice for college when he graduated high school in 1941. He even became the freshman football team manager.

“I got picked on by the players because I was small. It was all right, though, because I was part of the team. I was part of the Great Crimson Tide.”

Chuck worked hard and long hours. Unfortunately, most of that time was spent with the football team. As Chuck grew skeptical about his chances of passing his classes, he decided that he needed a plan in case he wouldn’t be returning to the university after the Christmas break.

On December 1, he enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps. All that was left for him to do was to pass his final physical. He arranged it so that he wouldn’t be inducted until after Christmas.

On Sunday, December 7, Chuck was actually studying when his roommate rushed into the room shouting that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. Chuck was stunned. He knew from his roommate’s tone that something was wrong, but he wasn’t quite sure what.

“Where’s Pearl Harbor?” Chuck asked.

They had to dig out an atlas to locate Pearl Harbor.

As the realization settled on Chuck that the Japanese had attacked the United States and that the two countries were now at war, Chuck’s first thought was that he now had an excuse to do poorly on his exams. Then as he realized what he was thinking, he felt shame.

Chuck left school on December 15, without even taking his finals. It didn’t matter now. He headed home on the train to tell his parents that he was going to be a Marine.

The physical at the end of December was quick and basic. The minimum requirement for Marines at the time was that they weigh at least 120 pounds and stand at least five feet six inches tall. Chuck became a Marine by one pound and half an inch.

He made it through five weeks of basic training at Parris Island, South Carolina, and shipped out to New Zealand, knowing that he was going to be fighting in the war.

“I wasn’t scared,” Chuck said. “I was going to take part in real history.”

 

WWII

Chuck’s early months in the Pacific involved a lot of sailing, from one island to another, but then on November 2, 1942, he landed on Guadalcanal to reinforce a group of Marines who had been fighting the entrenched Japanese for weeks.

He spent the next five months on the island, fighting occasionally, and dodging bombs from almost daily air raids. Japanese bombers would fly from ships surrounding the island to drop their bombs. The goal was to destroy the runway on Henderson Field, in the hopes of keeping the Marines on the ground.

The raids kept the Marines’ nerves on edge, especially at night when they couldn’t see the planes coming.

Some mornings, they would find odd footprints from people wearing tabis in camp. These were Japanese tennis-shoe-type boots that separated the big toe from the rest of the toes. Chuck realized that the footprints meant that the Japanese had come through their camp unseen.

“It made me think that somebody was not guarding our camp too well,” Chuck said. “That’s when I started sleeping on my back with my K-bar next to me.”

On November 14, Chuck was awakened by nearby explosions, just after midnight. The Japanese ships had turned their large guns on the island and were shelling it.

“Coconut trees were splintered and falling everywhere.”

As the shelling continued, Chuck realized that it was too heavy to stay in the foxhole. He needed to get to the air raid shelter.

He started counting how long it was between the time a gun fired and when the shell hit. The time between firing from the ship and hitting the island was consistent.

When one shell hit nearby, Chuck took off running. Apparently, one of the shells came in quicker than expected. A coconut tree exploded near Chuck, sending wood splinters into his right knee, left chest, and wrist.

Chuck yelled as he hit the ground and rolled. He saw blood, but he wasn’t feeling pain at the moment. He couldn’t rest out in the open. He got to his feet and hobbled on. He would eventually receive a Purple Heart for this wound.

Chuck eventually got off Guadalcanal, but he was transferred to the Second Division Marines and sent to Tarawa a little more than a year after he had arrived at Guadalcanal. Although the fight there was shorter, it was just as fierce as Guadalcanal.

The Marines met heavy resistance as they landed at Tarawa. They reached the beaches, but could barely hold that position. Later waves of Marines took heavy casualties even before they reached the shore. Ammunition ran low, and the Marines had to scavenge ammunition belts from the dead.

The water was chest deep as Chuck started wading ashore. He held his rifle above his head. The Japanese peppered the water with bullets.

“We lost three hundred men in 500 yards,” Chuck said.

Chuck tried to ignore the men suddenly floating face down in the water around him. He dove underwater and swam, hoping to escape the bullets splashing around him.

His job at Tarawa was to offload the ships that made it to the dock with supplies. He and the other Marines carrying supplies were popular targets for the Japanese, because they were out in the open and couldn’t fire back.

Near the end of three days of fighting and almost no sleep, Chuck collapsed. It turns out that he had contracted malaria, most likely on Guadalcanal.

He returned home for a thirty-day leave in 1944, but after another bout of malaria, he wound up extending his time. While recovering in a Navy hospital, he met Jackie Murphy, a WAVE (Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service) nurse, who would eventually marry him the following year.

 

Nuclear Bombs

After the war ended, Chuck earned his art degree and took a job in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, designing displays for the American Museum of Atomic Energy. He eventually transferred to a different department, doing technical drawings, which turned out to be very boring.

Anxious to escape his boredom, he volunteered to spend the summers of 1957 and 1958 in Nevada, setting up atomic bomb tests and collecting data after explosions. He saw dozens of bomb detonations.

Chuck was excited to see his first atomic bomb detonation. He expected an ear-shattering explosion.

“It wasn’t that noisy, but what happened afterwards is that this doughnut rolled out from the center and knocked you on your ass if you weren’t kneeling down,” recalled Chuck.

The doughnut was the concussive force of the explosion stirring up sand as it moved outward from ground zero.

 

On His Own

In 1968, with four children and a wife to support, Chuck decided to strike out on his own as an artist. He quickly found work, including selling miniatures to shops in Gettysburg. The Caldwells moved to Lake Dallas, Texas, in the early 1970s, where Chuck had the promise of steady work.

Things didn’t pan out quite as he had expected, and the Caldwells decided to move to Gettysburg in 1980. Chuck came first and got his small shop in the Old Gettysburg Village established. He had been visiting the town for most of his life and was excited to finally call it home.

Over the years, he has sculpted more than 15,000 miniature soldiers, musicians, and sports figures. This doesn’t even count the thousands of even smaller figures he crafted to fill the stadium models that he built.

Jackie died in 2007, after sixty-two years of marriage, and Chuck decided that it was time for him to retire. He still makes some miniatures from his home.

At age ninety-four, Chuck is still healthy and living on his own in Gettysburg. He still visits with friends and hosts holidays for his family, which has grown to include four grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

“Our gun crew around the gun after firing all day.” — Chuck Caldwell

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Jim Houck, Jr.

TINA MARIE REEVES

E-3 UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS

Tina was born and raised in the Emmitsburg-Thurmont area until she was seventeen years old, then she joined the Marine Corps. She met her husband, Keith, who was also a marine at the time, and they went on to have a daughter they named, Kim. Tina, Keith, and Kim reside in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where Tina has been Regional Commander of Nation of Patriots Riders Club for the past eight years. She raised $2,000 so far this year and helped out with the Flags for Vets, which is a non-profit organization that helps Veterans who want a flag pole in front of their home but cannot afford to put one up. Tina and the Patriot Riders went with the Flags for Vets group to Gallop, New Mexico, and chipped in to surprise a Veteran with a flag pole; her heart told her it was the right thing to do. Tina set up the ride, which consisted of about fifty riders. She called the man, Philip, and asked him to meet them at the Comfort Suites at Gallop. Philip asked Tina what the meeting was about; she told him they wanted to recognize people who supported Nation of Patriots. The Comfort Suites is managed by Veterans and friendly to all Veterans and had helped the Riders Club before. When Philip arrived, they were all eating pizza; they socialized for a while. Then, Tina got up to give her speech about “calling a Veteran this morning to make sure he would show up, and he said he would be here…” Tina said she watched Philip’s face as he realized she was talking about him. Tina called him to the front and presented him with a check for $2,025.

I talked with Tina’s sister, Valerie, one evening when she was tending bar at AMVETS Post 7 in Thurmont. Valerie knew that Tina and I had become friends when I interviewed her in 2016. She told me that Tina was coming to the area and that she would let me know when she arrived. “Please do,” I told Valerie. “I really would like to see her again.” I met Tina at AMVETS Post 7 and talked with her. I asked her if it would be okay to write a piece about her in my column, again, and she said sure. The first column I wrote about Tina can be found in the archives on The Catoctin Banner website at www.thecatoctinbanner.com; just click on October 2016 and go to page 36.

 

Thank you, TINA and Thank you, VAL!

 

EVERYONE HAVE A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!

 

GOD BLESS THE U.S.A.       GOD BLESS THE AMERICAN VETERAN       GOD BLESS YOU

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Jim Houck, Jr.

Veterans Day

November 11

Veterans Day is a celebrated holiday that honors all persons that served or are serving in the United States Armed Forces. It dates back to World War I and when the Armistice with Germany ended the hostilities on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918. U.S. President Woodrow Wilson expressed what he felt that day meant to all Americans. Exactly one year later, Wilson’s Address to Fellow Countrymen on November 11, 1919, from the White House read as follows:

A year ago today, our enemies laid down their arms in accordance with an armistice which rendered them impotent to renew hostilities, and gave to the world an assured opportunity to reconstruct its shattered order and to work out in peace a new and juster set of international relations. The soldiers and people of the European Allies had fought and endured for more than four years to uphold the barrier of civilization against the aggression of armed force. We ourselves had been in the conflict something more than a year and a half. With splendid forgetfulness of mere personal concerns, we remodeled our industries, concentrated our financial resources, increased our agricultural output, and assembled a great army, so at the last our power was a decisive factor in the victory. We were able to bring the vast resources, material and moral, of a great and free people, to the assistance of our associates in Europe who had suffered and sacrificed without limit in the cause for which we fought. Out of this victory, there arose new possibilities of political freedom and economic concert. The war showed us the strength of great nations acting together for high purposes, and the victory of arms foretells the enduring conquests which can be made in peace when nations act justly and in furtherance of the common interest of men. To us in America the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service, and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the council of nations.

On June 4, 1926, the United States Congress adopted a resolution requesting then President Calvin Coolidge to issue an annual proclamation calling for the observance of November 11 with appropriate ceremonies. Approved May 13, 1938, by a congressional act, November 11 would be a day dedicated each year as a legal holiday and, thereafter, known as Armistice Day.

Raymond Weeks, from Birmingham, Alabama, a World War II Veteran, had the idea to expand Armistice Day to celebrate all Veterans, those alive as well as those who died in World War I. In 1945, Weeks led a delegation to General Dwight D. Eisenhower, who supported the idea. Weeks led the first national celebration in 1947 in Alabama, and led it annually until his death in 1985. President Reagan honored Weeks at the White House with the Presidential Citizenship Medal in 1982, as the driving force for the national holiday.

I know a lot of people get confused trying to figure out the difference between Veterans Day and Memorial Day. Memorial Day is held in May and honors those who have died while in military service. Veterans Day is held on the eleventh day of the eleventh month and celebrates both those who died while in service and those who have served and are still living.

Sons of AMVETS Squadron 7 Thurmont will be holding a breakfast for Veterans and their families on Sunday, November 12, 2017. The breakfast is buffet-style and will be held from 7:00-11:00 a.m. All Veterans eat free. The breakfast is open to the public; non-veterans pay $5.00. November 11 falls on a Saturday this year, so National observance will be November 10.

God Bless the United States of America, God Bless the American Veteran, and God Bless You.

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Jim Houck, Jr.

VFW Auxiliary 6658 Celebrates 70th Year

VFW Memorial Post 6658 was chartered in 1946. Harold Hoke was one of the organizers and a charter member. The following year (1947), Harold’s wife, Mary Higbee Hoke, said she would like to start an Auxiliary to Post 6658. Mrs. Hoke went to South Seton Avenue, the home of Gertrude Joy—who, at the time, had a son, Robert, in the Army, and another son, John, in the Navy—to ask Mrs. Joy to help recruit members for a charter for an Auxiliary to VFW Memorial Post 6658. Mrs. Joy said she and her daughters, Gloria and Delores, would be glad to help.

They needed fifteen members to receive a charter. Mrs. Hoke, Mrs. Joy, Gloria, and Delores were able to recruit twenty-three signatures for the charter in a month’s time. An application for the Auxiliary Charter was approved on June 2, 1947, by then Post Commander Charles J. Rowe. The Auxiliary Charter application was sent to the VFW National Secretary, along with the fee of $25.00. The Auxiliary Charter was received at Memorial Post 6658 in October 1947, with twenty-three members’ names in good standing.

As of September 2017, seventy years later, only three of the original Charter Members are survivors. The survivors names are: Etta Mae Norris, Genevieve Zacharias, and Gloria (Joy) Bauerline.

Recently, at a regular monthly meeting, Gloria received a plaque and a seventy-year pin for continuous service and thirty-five continuous years as Auxiliary Chaplain. Inscribed on the plaque: “Gloria, you have set an example for others with your extraordinary and exceptional leadership in the Post 6658 Auxiliary. Your dedication and perseverance the past 70 years with our veterans, Post members and community are beyond words. Your endless hours as Chaplain for 35 years have touched people in many ways that will last a lifetime. From our hearts we thank you.”

The original Charter Members of VFW Auxiliary 6658 are as follows: Carrie Long, Mary R. Bell, Rose M. Beall, Marion Boyle, Genevieve Kugler, Clara R. Combs, Madeline Rightnour, Pauline Rosensteel, Anna Mae Topper, Mary C. Sanders, Gloria (Joy) Martin, Gertrude Joy, Delores Joy, Grace A. Ryder, Louise B. Brammer, Mary N. Rowe, Anna B. Stoner, Mary H. Hoke, Eunice N. Bouey, Joanna S. Eyler, Etta Mae Norris, Jane Gingell, and Jean B. Bower.

Please, when you see Gloria the next time, give her a hug and thank her for all the time she has put into this Veteran’s organization. Gloria is a fine example of what this great organization is all about. Thank you, Gloria!

God Bless the United States, God Bless the U.S. Veteran, and God Bless You.

Gloria (Joy) Bauerline receives a plaque and pin for her continuous service and years as Auxiliary chaplain of Auxiliary Post 6658.

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Andrea Myers Mannix – A Thurmont native, who resides in New Paltz, New York

Hudson Valley Honor Flight – Honoring America’s Military Veterans

In Washington, D.C., Saturday, April 8, 2017, it was a beautiful, early spring day with clear blue skies. This was the day that I served as a guardian to accompany ninety-one-year-old World War II Navy Veteran, Francis Farnsworth of Woodstock, New York, on Hudson Valley Honor Flight’s Mission 15.

Hudson Valley Honor Flight (HVHF) is a 501c3 nonprofit organization that “Honors American Veterans” for all of their sacrifices, and transports these heroes to Washington, D.C. to visit their memorials, at no cost to them.  As a local hub of the National Honor Flight Network, which consists of over one hundred independent non-profit hubs in forty-five states, HVHF flies multiple times a year out of both Newburgh New York’s Stewart International Airport and Westchester County New York Airport. HVHF serves Veterans from its seven surrounding counties.

Mission 15 consisted of ninety military Veterans of WWII, the Korean War, and several terminally-ill Vietnam Veterans, who traveled with their guardians, along with HVHF’s volunteers, safety/medical team, and staff.

My experience with the Honor Flight started in Summer 2016, when I submitted a guardian application, as I had read several local newspaper articles about the organization and its past honor flights. This was an experience in which I wanted to participate.  Guardians pay a fee for their flight, while Veterans deservingly have no cost. In early March 2017, I was notified that I had been selected as a guardian (or “guardian angel” as Francis referred to me!). Next, I received a letter with my Veteran’s name, Francis, and his phone number. I called Francis, introduced myself, and we talked for a while. On March 18, 2017, I visited Francis at his home that he shares with his daughter and grandson. Over coffee and muffins, Francis showed me on a map where he served in the Pacific in WWII. His late twin brother, Frank, was also a WWII Veteran, and passed away several years ago. Francis shared his WWII experience with me, as well as many old family photos. We had a wonderful visit.

All guardians were also required to attend an Orientation Session, where we learned about the Hudson Valley Honor Flight history and mission, and our role as a guardian on flight day.

On March 26, 2017, a “Meet & Greet” event was held for all the guardians and Veterans who would be on Mission 15; we also met our bus leaders and safety team members. In two weeks, we would be going on our Honor Flight!

Finally, April 8, 2017, arrived, and in the early morning, I drove us to the Shop Rite grocery store in Montgomery, New York. Shop Rite is a major sponsor of HVHF. A police escort and a procession of over one hundred and fifty motorcycles—many driven by military Veterans—led the way for our coach busses to take us from Shop Rite to Newburgh’s Stewart International Airport. The Vails Gate Fire Company had both of its fire truck’s ladders fully extended, with an American flag flying underneath, as our busses passed under it.

Upon arrival at Stewart Airport, cadet candidates from West Point were lined up and saluted. Bagpipers played, and people were outside welcoming the Veterans with signs and waving American flags! As we exited our busses, we walked through a processional area lined with military Veterans, holding American flags. These Veterans shook Francis’ hand, thanked him for his service, and wished us a great day in Washington, D.C.

A pre-flight patriotic ceremony was held inside Stewart Airport, and we then proceeded to board our American Airlines charter flight. Our plane was decorated inside with red, white, and blue decorations, and everyone was very excited. A little over an hour later, our plane arrived at Reagan National Airport, with a water cannon salute.

As Francis and I walked up the jetway, we could hear the crowd cheering, and I said to Francis, “Those cheers are for you and all the military Veterans!” Many greeters were at the gate. Then we met Buzz Aldrin, the second man to walk on the moon in July 1969. As we walked through the airport, people stood up and applauded, then shook Francis’ hand and thanked him for his service to our country.

Our busses in Washington, D.C., were escorted by the Park Police, and our first stop was the WWII Memorial. Former Senator Bob Dole of Kansas, who was instrumental in getting the WWII Memorial built, shook Veterans’ hands and spoke with us. Our next stops were the Korean War Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, and the Lincoln Memorial, where a Veterans’ group photo was taken. Francis’ birthday is the same day as Abraham Lincoln’s, so he enjoyed spending time inside the memorial by Lincoln’s statue and reading the Gettysburg Address and Lincoln’s Second Inauguration Speech, which are inscribed on the memorial’s inside walls.

Our last stop was Arlington National Cemetery for the very moving Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Our busses then drove past the Iwo Jima Memorial, as we headed for dinner near Reagan National Airport. We boarded our plane, saying goodbye to Washington, D.C., after a wonderful day.

One more surprise was in store for all the military Veterans: mail call! Family and friends, local schools and organizations, all had helped to make, or gather, cards for the Veterans ahead of time. One of the HVHF staff members spoke on the plane’s loudspeaker, and announced each Veteran’s name for mail call. A big envelope full of cards and greetings were thoroughly enjoyed by each Veteran.

We arrived at Stewart Airport around 9:00 p.m., after a day full of many memories. Francis was handed a patriotic quilt as a keepsake. Crowds of local citizens were inside the airport to welcome us home, and our local New Paltz Boy Scout Troop 172 had a dozen scouts and leaders in attendance for Francis and me!

I was very honored and proud to be part of this once-in-a-lifetime patriotic experience, and to watch throughout the day as people showed their respect and thanked our military Veterans. A huge thank you goes out to the Hudson Valley Honor Flight officers, board of directors, staff, and volunteers, who ran a first-class, well-organized memorable experience for Veterans and their guardians.

For more information: Mission 15’s April 8, 2017 photo slideshow and 10-minute video: www.hvhonorflight.com/media/; Maryland’s Honor Flight website:  www.honorflightmd.org/hf/; information on how citizens can greet honor flights arriving at Reagan National Airport: www.honorflightdca.org; and National Honor Flight Network at www.honorflight.org.

Francis Farnsworth and Andrea Myers Mannix, entering the airport greeting line.

Francis Farnsworth, Andrea Myers Mannix, and Senator Bob Dole are shown at the WWII Memorial in Washington, D.C.

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

Sons of AMVETS Squadron 7 “Golden Son Awards”

by Jim Houck, Jr.

Friday, July 14, 2017, 6:00 p.m., AMVETS Post 7, Thurmont, was the date, time, and place set to hold the annual “Golden Son Awards” program. I, being the public relations officer for I don’t remember how many years now, was there to take photos of the event and to record in our historical archives. I would like to tell you that I was all primed and ready to go since the beginning of the week, but that would be a lie. The truth of the matter is, I had forgotten. It’s a good thing I have a friend by the name of Dick Fleagle to remind me of the important events.  Dick called me on Wednesday and asked if I was going to be there to take photos, and I said yes, just like I knew what he was talking about. Then I blew it, I went and asked him what time it was to start. If that wasn’t bad enough, I even asked where it was being held. Dick told me the time and place, and then I suppose it dawned on him: If I didn’t know the time and place, I probably didn’t have a clue what is was for. Dick refreshed my memory as to why I was going to take photos. I thanked him and told him that Joan (my wife) and I would be there.

The “Golden Son Awards” is the way Sons of AMVETS (SOA) Squadron 7 shows a person how much we appreciate him for all he does for everyone at AMVETS Post 7. The award can be presented to anyone that is deemed worthy and is not only confined to SOA members.

Joan and I arrived at Post 7 at 5:00 p.m. and joined the folks already there setting up for the event. Everything was ready and in place by starting time at 6:00 p.m. Mark Zienda, Squadron 7 Commander for 2017-2018, took the podium and called things to order. Commander Zienda explained that, first, the Golden Son Awards would be presented; second, Squadron 7’s scholarship awards would be handed out; third, there would be two drawings held for meat packs, one for $500 and one for $250. He also asked everyone to stay after for some food and refreshments. Mark asked Joe Forrest, Squadron 7 Immediate Past Commander, to present the awards, as Joe was commander when nominations and those elected to receive were selected. Joe called Willy Plumer as the first recipient of the award. Willy was awarded posthumously, as he had passed on and his wife, Becky, came forward to accept the beautiful plaque. Willy fried the catfish for a lot of fish fries. The second award went to Becky Plumer, and was well deserved for all the time and effort she put into helping the Sons at their events (Becky keeps all of our volunteers well tuned with her rum cake; it is the best). Joe called Joyce Fleagle to receive the third award, and she really deserved the recognition for all the help she gives to everyone. The fourth award went to a person that keeps all the gears of AMVETS Squadron 7 well oiled and up and running and is very deserving of the recognition: none other than our own 1st Vice Dick Fleagle. Thanks to all of the recipients for all you have done and continue to do, such terrific service.

The next part of the program was presenting SOA Squadron 7 scholarship awards. This year, two $500 scholarships were awarded. Joe announced the first winner as Allyson Smith and the second winner of the scholarship award was Ryan Lookingbill.

The final part of the program was the drawing for a choice of a meat package or cash. The value of the awards were $500 for first prize and $250 for second prize. Allyson Smith drew the first prize winner’s name as Chad Helwig from Hanover, Pennsylvania. Ryan Lookingbill drew the second prize winner’s name as Richard L. Fleagle from Alabama.

Congratulations to all the winners!

God Bless the United States of America, God Bless the American Veteran, and God Bless You.

Pictured from left are Joyce Fleagle, Savannah Masser, Joyce and Dick’s great-granddaughter; Dick Fleagle; and Becky Plumer.

Pictured from left are Joe Forrest and Allyson Smith.

Pictured from left are Joe Forrest and Ryan Lookingbill.

Photos by Jim Houck, Jr.

Our Neighborhood Veterans

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Jim Houck, Jr.

Richard (Dick) Fleagle

Sons of AMVETS

Richard (Dick) Fleagle is AMVETS Post 7 Thurmont’s AMVETS Son of the YEAR 2013. Neighbors, I am honored to have him as a friend and comrade, and one of the most respected men I have had the privilege of knowing.

Dick Fleagle—known by many in our Veterans organizations as Uncle Dick—takes pride in serving all Veterans and is an asset to the many Veteran organizations in which he is a member. Dick is the heart of Thurmont AMVETS Post 7, and if anyone at the Post needs something done, Dick is the “go to man.” Dick is 1st Vice Commander of The Sons of AMVETS Squadron 7 Thurmont, and part of his job is taking care of membership. This is a job that he does not take lightly, as he pours his heart and soul into making sure everything is done right in aiding our membership. Dick can probably tell you the names of all of our members and, unless they have recently moved, their addresses, also. Dick puts hours and hours into keeping the membership straight. When he knows he is right about something, and someone tries to change his mind, the five-foot-four-and-a half-inch dynamo cannot be budged. Dick has great integrity and will follow the rules set by our parent organizations to the letter.

The functions given by our family of Veterans, Auxiliary, and Sons, knows that Dick will be there helping in any way that he can, if possible. Dick will only miss being at any of the events if he had already committed to another event before that one was scheduled, or if he or one of his family becomes ill.

AMVETS Post 7 held their 1st Annual “Member of the Year” awards in 2013, and Dick was the Sons of the AMVETS recipient of the award. Dick was very deserving of the award and was very proud to accept it.

Dick is a member of our Post 7 Honor Guard and doesn’t miss many functions that the Honor Guard participates in. He also belongs to the musical group “The Catoctin Hollow Boys,” and, folks, you will just have to go see them when Doctor Mudcat does karaoke and DJs at various functions at the Post. The group is well worth coming to see. The members at Post 7 are all so proud of Dick, and it doesn’t take much to get them talking about what a great person he is and how much he has helped AMVETS Post 7.

Dick is a member of the Department of Maryland Sons of AMVETS and is their Chaplain. He belongs to VFW Auxiliary 6658 in Emmitsburg. Dick also helps with many functions that the Auxiliary sponsors. He also belongs to Sons of the American Legion Squadron 121 Emmitsburg, where he is Chaplain and aides in SAL functions. Dick is a man of many talents and wears a lot of different hats at different places. He is a man of integrity and energy that never seems to fade.

I am proud to call this man my good buddy, and hope we can remain friends for a long time. The next time you see Dick, shake his hand and tell him you are proud of the things he has been doing for our Veterans. You will find out how humble this man is, someone who just wants to do things the right way.                                                                                                                   Thank you, Dick!

God Bless the United States of America, God Bless the U.S. Veteran, and God Bless You.

Richard (Dick) Fleagle