You can only protect your liberties in this worldby protecting the other man's freedom.
Clarence Darrow
We were looking at old pictures again, much older ones than the ones of our childhood. These were pictures of our parents when they were young.
Daddy was a lieutenant in the Naval Air Corps during World War II. He was stationed in the Philippines. Much more than that, I don't know, because he virtually never spoke of the war or his experiences there. An occasional amusing anecdote, perhaps, but nothing more.
There were several pictures that stood out to me. One was of Dad, on a beach somewhere in the South Pacific, standing with one hand on his hip, and a great big smile on his face. He was young, and strong, and vibrant -- a man in his early 20s, confident in himself, his country, and the cause they were fighting for. The cocky smile in the picture is so engaging, that you can almost see this pilot breathe, you can almost hear him laugh.
The other picture is of Dad seated inside the Hellcat that he flew. It is a completely different sort of picture. Here, Dad is strapped into the pilot's seat, wearing flying gloves and his helmet with the goggles pushed up. There is no innocent boyish grin here; this is a soldier ready for war. You can easily read the determination and courage in his face. He fought for the country that he loved, and to preserve and protect freedom for others.
Two very different images of Daddy, both foreign to me in many ways. A young man enjoying a day on a beach, and a warrior ready for battle. The youth, the strength, and the vitality radiate from the images taken well over 60 years ago. This is Daddy as I never knew him, but it also is Daddy as I love and respect him.
Daddy was a lieutenant in the Naval Air Corps during World War II. He was stationed in the Philippines. Much more than that, I don't know, because he virtually never spoke of the war or his experiences there. An occasional amusing anecdote, perhaps, but nothing more.
There were several pictures that stood out to me. One was of Dad, on a beach somewhere in the South Pacific, standing with one hand on his hip, and a great big smile on his face. He was young, and strong, and vibrant -- a man in his early 20s, confident in himself, his country, and the cause they were fighting for. The cocky smile in the picture is so engaging, that you can almost see this pilot breathe, you can almost hear him laugh.
The other picture is of Dad seated inside the Hellcat that he flew. It is a completely different sort of picture. Here, Dad is strapped into the pilot's seat, wearing flying gloves and his helmet with the goggles pushed up. There is no innocent boyish grin here; this is a soldier ready for war. You can easily read the determination and courage in his face. He fought for the country that he loved, and to preserve and protect freedom for others.
Two very different images of Daddy, both foreign to me in many ways. A young man enjoying a day on a beach, and a warrior ready for battle. The youth, the strength, and the vitality radiate from the images taken well over 60 years ago. This is Daddy as I never knew him, but it also is Daddy as I love and respect him.
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