Bad News on the Doorstep...

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Fellows:

Thank you all very much for the kind words, they have meant very much to me at this time, you all are a great bunch.:thumbright::thumbright::thumbright:

As you may have guessed, yes, he was pretty special to me (and my brother). A short synopsis, and believe me, it's not easy to write this just yet but here goes.

On December 8, 1941, my father John, his brothers Milo and Jerry drove to Detroit and enlisted in the U.S.A.A.F., about a year later the youngest brother Henry enlisted in the Army.

The oldest of the bunch Joe, was already working for Consolidated and would later be the guy that checked out B-24's at the Willow Run plant before the AAF took them. He is the one that after the war turned the family farm into an airfield which is still there and where I spent many a great day as a kid. He passed of a brain tumor well before his time, about 1967.

My uncle Jerry went to technical training and long story short, ended up as a radar operator in P-61's first with the 9th AF and then rather shortly was moved to the Pacific and the 7th AF on Iwo Jima and Okinawa. When he returned home he did different things until he bought a laundry mat, then several more, very quite fellow, married no children. I often suspect he had seen much more during the war than he let on, especially judging by alcohol consumption among other clues.

Uncle Henry served with Patton's 3rd Army as an MP for I think a year. He came home and went into police work, first with the Michigan State Police and later as a Detroit Homicide detective. He talked me OUT of becoming a detective. The fun loving uncle, married with two kids and well let's just say after a certain age we shared many a beer, quick sense of humor and you could tell him anything. Got early retirement from Detroit PD but I could never find out why.

Uncle Milo (passed Sunday), tallest of the bunch and also possessing a fine sense of humor, trained on multi-engines and went to ETO in early '43 as a B-17 co-pilot. Did 25 missions, I never really got much out of him on that score, only that the Schweinfurt mission was his last. He rotated home and at some point in 1944 began training on the B-29, spent time in Cuba and eventually shipped out to Guam with the 315th. He flew about a dozen missions (all night time raids), some pretty hairy, came home on 3 engines at least once. Came home after the war and opened a bar and hotel outside of town, so he was THAT uncle. :lol: He never really spoke about the war much either.

I learned a lot about life from him as I said, every boy needs that kind of uncle to show him how to be a responsible man. My father was good at that too but sometimes it has to be a little outside the immediate family. He had the aura as well for my brother and I of the "bar owner" and all that that may entail, especially when you had a very strict mother. As I said earlier as well, he'd slip us cash all the time, threw me a hell of a party for my 18th (legal drinking age in Michigan at the time), his place was some hoppin' joint when everything got into high gear, man I could go on for pages but it's time to stop.

Anyway, sorry for the rambling, he had been in poor health the last six months and in either a hospice or hospital at different times, I haven't gotten the whole story yet from my cousin, not sure I want to. Apparently it was COVID that he contracted although I haven't had confirmation of that yet, so yes, this really wasn't a surprise but still. And yes, the pain will pass and I do have a ton of fantastic memories to hold onto.

Again, a heartfelt THANK YOU to all of you, it wasn't easy losing that last link to my fathers generation and your kind words have meant very much to me, as any one of my uncles would say, "You're a hell of a great bunch of guys", then "Napíj se" (Czech for "Drink Up", yeah, I had to use Google Translate to remember that).:thumbleft:

Tim
 
Fellows:

Thank you all very much for the kind words, they have meant very much to me at this time, you all are a great bunch.:thumbright::thumbright::thumbright:

As you may have guessed, yes, he was pretty special to me (and my brother). A short synopsis, and believe me, it's not easy to write this just yet but here goes.

On December 8, 1941, my father John, his brothers Milo and Jerry drove to Detroit and enlisted in the U.S.A.A.F., about a year later the youngest brother Henry enlisted in the Army.

The oldest of the bunch Joe, was already working for Consolidated and would later be the guy that checked out B-24's at the Willow Run plant before the AAF took them. He is the one that after the war turned the family farm into an airfield which is still there and where I spent many a great day as a kid. He passed of a brain tumor well before his time, about 1967.

My uncle Jerry went to technical training and long story short, ended up as a radar operator in P-61's first with the 9th AF and then rather shortly was moved to the Pacific and the 7th AF on Iwo Jima and Okinawa. When he returned home he did different things until he bought a laundry mat, then several more, very quite fellow, married no children. I often suspect he had seen much more during the war than he let on, especially judging by alcohol consumption among other clues.

Uncle Henry served with Patton's 3rd Army as an MP for I think a year. He came home and went into police work, first with the Michigan State Police and later as a Detroit Homicide detective. He talked me OUT of becoming a detective. The fun loving uncle, married with two kids and well let's just say after a certain age we shared many a beer, quick sense of humor and you could tell him anything. Got early retirement from Detroit PD but I could never find out why.

Uncle Milo (passed Sunday), tallest of the bunch and also possessing a fine sense of humor, trained on multi-engines and went to ETO in early '43 as a B-17 co-pilot. Did 25 missions, I never really got much out of him on that score, only that the Schweinfurt mission was his last. He rotated home and at some point in 1944 began training on the B-29, spent time in Cuba and eventually shipped out to Guam with the 315th. He flew about a dozen missions (all night time raids), some pretty hairy, came home on 3 engines at least once. Came home after the war and opened a bar and hotel outside of town, so he was THAT uncle. :lol: He never really spoke about the war much either.

I learned a lot about life from him as I said, every boy needs that kind of uncle to show him how to be a responsible man. My father was good at that too but sometimes it has to be a little outside the immediate family. He had the aura as well for my brother and I of the "bar owner" and all that that may entail, especially when you had a very strict mother. As I said earlier as well, he'd slip us cash all the time, threw me a hell of a party for my 18th (legal drinking age in Michigan at the time), his place was some hoppin' joint when everything got into high gear, man I could go on for pages but it's time to stop.

Anyway, sorry for the rambling, he had been in poor health the last six months and in either a hospice or hospital at different times, I haven't gotten the whole story yet from my cousin, not sure I want to. Apparently it was COVID that he contracted although I haven't had confirmation of that yet, so yes, this really wasn't a surprise but still. And yes, the pain will pass and I do have a ton of fantastic memories to hold onto.

Again, a heartfelt THANK YOU to all of you, it wasn't easy losing that last link to my fathers generation and your kind words have meant very much to me, as any one of my uncles would say, "You're a hell of a great bunch of guys", then "Napíj se" (Czech for "Drink Up", yeah, I had to use Google Translate to remember that).:thumbleft:

Tim
Rambling? What rambling? Dude that's called an oral history and your kids and their kids should have a copy of this. (And remember, the Uncle is the guy you can tell things you wouldn't telly our father. (Funny how that works, ain't it?)
 
DAMN! At 96, he STILL died too young. Condolences.

5bfc14e088b4d.image.jpg




-Irish
 
Not looking to belabor this or anything, but my cousin sent me my uncle's obituary, thought you all might like to see him "back in the day" so to speak. I had forgotten how much he looked like my dad. Anyway, cheers fellows, time does heal all wounds. Sorry for the grainy quality, had to scan it off of a small image on rough paper.

Uncle Mel.png
 

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