Tag Archives: Prisoner-of-War

The Hana Chronicles: Month 8, Day 10

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 31, 2026- Hana knows that her Papa is hurting a bit right now. My best friend in Prescott is dealing with a life-threatening disease. The person who did the work of ten people is now sidelined. It is a gut punch for me. I can only imagine what it must be like for her children and grandchildren.

My granddaughter has been trying to make me feel better, even as she has no knowledge of suffering, let alone the likelihood of death. I want to keep it that way, for as long as possible. So, we went on our stroller walk, this morning and I did a solo jaunt this evening, after dinner. Hana talked to me during our morning walk, looking happily at the trees and rocks around Russell Creek, and the solid bridge that pases over it.

That brings me to the other shockers- The flash floods that ravaged opposite parts of the world. Nepal and Tibet have been devastated by glacial breakage that led to multiple villages, on both sides of the border, being wiped off the face of the Earth. Thousands have been killed. There is likely more to come. At the bottom of the Grand Canyon, every bridge that crossed Bright Angel Creek was swept away by a torrent. 2 are dead and 15 people remain missing, Two tragedies, one almost unfathomable and one painfully symbolic.

HANA’S NOTE- I don’t know what dying means,but Papa looked sad when he talked with Daddy about his friend. I don’t want Papa to be sad.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-2014 I wasn’t completely ready to travel overseas, but I went anyway. I promised my ailing father-in-law that I would travel to Normandy, for the 70th anniversary of D-Day and I did. He passed away, three weeks before that, and I did a boomerang journey to attend his funeral in New Jersey, return to Prescott for two weeks then go back to Newark, to catch a plane to Frankfurt-by way of Montreal and Ottawa. Four days in Paris preceded the D-Day events. I took in the Louvre, Versailles and Trocadero. I fended off some Roma “goldsmiths” and twice as many trinket vendors, most of them recent arrivals from French-speaking parts of Africa. A visit to Rouen brought me to the ruins of a church, where my ancestors had been baptized-right next to the spot where Joan of Arc had been burned at the stake. I spent some time in the dungeon where she had been held. Then came D-Day observances, of which I took in the daytime events and passed on a late night recreation of the landing.

Rennes, Mont St.Michel, Amiens, Lille, Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, Bastogne, Luxembourg and Frankfurt followed. Lastly, came Berga, where my father-in-law had been held as a prisoner-of-war, for the last six months of World War Ii. He was a Jew, and yet made it out alive, with American troops coming into the camp, right after the German troops had left. The area around the camp had a harrowing ambiance, still. Berga town, and nearby Jera, had the air of cities in recovery, having been part of the former East Germany, until 1989.

In October, I flew to Honolulu and met Aram and his ship, then took my place on what was billed a “Tiger Cruise”. Family members of crew joined the return to San Diego. I spent most of the time with Aram at his station and enjoyed the peacefulness of the open ocean. Whales and dolphins appeared alongside the ship, a few times.

I still had a way to go, in reaching stability, but I held my own on these long journeys. I also sold the house in Prescott, on behalf of my mother-in-law, sent her the proceeds, and moved into a one-bedroom apartment. The year ahead would be even more restorative.

The Road to Diamond, Day 56: The Blessing, or The Curse?

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 23, 2025- A meteorologist in Milwaukee was fired by her manager, at a TV station, ostensibly for publicly using profanity to criticize a certain public figure for displaying a Nazi salute. The manager reportedly said it was about the cuss words, not the criticism per se. Fair point, and as the son-in-law of a departed American combat veteran, who was also a Prisoner-of-War during the final months of World War II, and was a Jew, may I ask for grace to be given to the foul-mouthed commentator, and never mind that she was expected only to provide a weather forecast?

The cheapest of all shots made at athletes, musicians, actors, comedians, and others in the entertainment sector is the message that they should play, sing, act,make us laugh-and leave the social commentary to “citizens”. The late Bill Walton had it right, when he urged his coach, the legendary John Wooden, of UCLA, to speak out against the Vietnam War. Coach Wooden had expressed his opinions privately, and Walton was telling his mentor that speaking out was the proper way of the citizen. Entertainers are full-on human beings, and do not deserve to be shut out of the public sphere. Colin Kaeparnick has the right to express his views, in a non-violent way. So do Mel Gibson and James Woods. expressing views that are opposite Kaepernick’s. Marlon Brando and George C. Scott got into it with John Wayne and Charlton Heston, back in the day. Each of them had the right to speak out, as well as to ply their craft.

Freedom is a blessing, even unto those who curse. It is not without cost, and I don’t just mean the sacrifices of military or First Responders. It is a sacrifice unto all, when we must be confronted with habits and mannerisms that we personally find offensive. It is a challenge, when we must stand against those, even in our own ranks, who would take that freedom away from certain people-because they find that freedom rankling. What is taken from one, as my father once said, relative to George Lincoln Rockwell, (whom he loathed) may be taken from anyone else.

Devout people of faith and those of no faith have the same rights under the Creator, no matter their relationship with the Divine.

Forty-Two

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 6, 2024- Eighty years ago, American forces began the process of landing at a series of beachheads, along the northern coast of Normandy, France. Contrary to some characterizations by people too young, apparently, to have much awareness of World War II, this was a real, and somewhat deadly, event. So, too, was the Holocaust that took place between 1942-45. Real people died, and others suffered mightily, despite what those who make apologies for Fascism would have the rising generations believe.

One of those who suffered mightily was a Jewish-American soldier, captured along the southern limit of the Battle of the Bulge, near Bellecroix, in Metz, France, in January, 1945. He survived, and returned to the U.S., in the aftermath of V-E Day. He married, and sired a daughter, who grew up to be strong, intelligent and of sound moral character. Forty-two years ago today, that daughter of a soldier became my wife. Our marriage lasted 28 years, 9 months, until her death, in 2011, from pneumonia that was brought on by a progressive neurological disease.

Penny led me to embrace a Faith that has made more sense to me than any other system I have ever studied or investigated. She held the bar high for me, as a husband, and more times than not, I reached it- just as she met my expectations of her as a wife. Those times when we each fell short were more growth opportunities than failures, and they served to give our son the roadmap to a successful marriage of his own, which began civilly in November, 2018 and became faith-based in March, 2019.

I have done a lot of reflecting on our time together, and on the flow of energy that has sustained me, in the thirteen years since her passing. Thirteen years of largely alone time, punctuated by a growing friendship with another strong, intelligent woman, of sound moral character, would not have been possible, without feeling Penny’s spiritual energy, a light brush against me or a strong message from the other side of the curtain that separates the corporeal from the ethereal. Forty-two years have passed, and I will never be the same soul I was before she entered my life.

Surprise Treasury, and Tragedy

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Posted by on in Assistance, Community, Family, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 3, 2022- The four boxes had sat in my bedroom closet, unopened for nearly four years. Once I cleaned out said closet, this afternoon, it was time to open the boxes and see just how much of a treasury of record was left behind by my father-in-law, with regard to his time as a Prisoner-of-War. The four boxes have a complete account of that harrowing time in his life and all the medals not included in a framed collage, which I also have.

These are all in a safe location and will be properly transferred to someone else in the family, at a later date. In the meantime, I will examine each box more carefully. This is probably the most precious historical collection which has ever been entrusted to me, and I’m honoured.

When Pops passed on, in 2014, he was accorded great honours-though due to a backlog at Arlington National Cemetery, it took several months to inter the man’s body. It was a grand and moving ceremony, despite that delay. It came on the heals of my visit to the sites of D-Day at Normandy, the Battle of the Bulge, in Bastogne and Metz, and Berga, where he was held prisoner. I will revisit these and other sites, in 2045, the centenary of the end of World War II.

The day ended with the discovery that one of my neighbours had died, alone and unnoticed for several days. I did not know him well, but was under the impression that he was being tended by “close friends”. He had told us, in the past, that he was doing “alright” and did not want to be disturbed. The circumstances of his passing underscore just how wrong the culture of anonymity is. We can’t very well impose ourselves on people, yet every soul deserves a full measure of dignity. I know enough about the man to know that he lived an honest life and worked hard as a cabinetmaker. May his peace be eternal.

The Road to 65, Mile 160: Soldiers

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Posted by on in Personal goals

May 7, 2015, Prescott- A year ago today, a painfully brief text message brought me out of my early-morning fog:  “Dad’s gone”.  The Dad in question was my father-in-law, ninety years of age, a former Prisoner-of-War ,who had been rescued from Juden Kamp Berga right after Hitler’s suicide.  In his subsequent life, he had been a traveling shoe salesman, owned a boot and shoe shop, ridden horse and motorcycle, avidly, and been a licensed pilot.  Norman David Fellman and his wife had raised three daughters from infancy and seen them become strong, successful professional women.  They had been to various parts of the Caribbean and Asia.   They were the bulwark of my little family’s life, for over twenty-five years, and their legacy was to lend me strength in so many hours of darkness. Norm was a true soldier.

The day before my father-in-law passed, unbeknownst to me until a bit later, a young man died of complications from a medical procedure.  He was one of my son’s childhood friends.  Though they were very different in personality and interests, and went on separate paths, they reconnected a few years ago, and maintained correspondence.  The young man was a talented musician, with a deep well of consciousness, and its attendant well of pain.  Brooke Bohner was a true soldier, in the spiritual sense.

We all carry on our battles, day to day.  I, too, struggle: With anger at those who manipulate others, for the sake of amassing power and wealth- telling anyone who will listen to them that “This is the way of the world.”;  with doubts about myself, for not following through on my promises to so many people, over the years; with the suspicion of so many people whom I encounter, almost daily; with injustice, in general.

I still stand, though, and keep on going, because for the sincere, for the dedicated, there is no other choice.