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Just an add on to your email; when I was 18, I went on a last trip with
mom and dad out east. We stayed at his buddy's home in New Jersey. A
very nice, fairly well off family--big brick home, daughters attending
nice colleges ... I believe his buddy's name was Bob too and he
actually told me the story of our dad saving his life.
Apparently when
some of his fellow soldiers were jumping off the boats into the ocean (I
think it was overseas) to cool off he was pushed and/or fell in too, but
couldn't swim. The way he told it, dad never hesitated a second, but
dove in right after him and brought him back up and stayed with him
until they could get him back on ship. None of the others were even
aware it had happened until it was over. Dad seemed genuinely
embarrassed that this story was even told and made light of it by saying
all those days as a kids swimming in the Mississippi River paid off.
Guess he was just doing what came naturally to him, but it was a
lifetime impact on his buddy that someone cared enough to come after
him.
That same buddy sent Christmas cards to dad every year and the year dad
died, he didn't receive a responsive card (which is one of the very few
cards dad continued to send after mom had died.) That buddy tried to
call, but the phone was turned off. When he didn't know who to contact
to find out what had happened because he didn't know my married name, he
started sending letters to the other addresses on the street where
Grandpa had lived. Because I was having his mail forwarded to finish
closing up his estate, eventually one of those inquiries got redirected
to me even though the Christmas card had not. When I called and told
him dad was gone, he actually cried and told me what a great guy our dad
was and how he would miss his cards and calls. Those are bonds of
friendship some of us will never experience.
I miss dad too.