Today was my grandfather's funeral. It was a wonderful memorial for him. In the viewing, my daughter (6) wouldn't leave the side of the coffin. She had voiced her sadness about his death the past couple of days. She even hugged my dad, her grandpa, and told him that she was sad that grandpa died-ed (she ends all past-tense words in an -ed). She said "he was such a nice man." So today, standing by the coffin, she wanted him to come back alive, as if this death thing was a mere sleeping illness. She noticed blood on collar of his white shirt also and was very concerned that he was hurt really badly. It choked me up trying to talk her through this moment.
I began the program with this tribute, seen below. My older cousin, Chandra, gave a wonderful tribute, in which she highlighted his love of animals and how he taught her through example to be a caretaker of animals and the earth. My youngest sister sang a beautiful religious hymn. And my dad, John Jr., finished the program with stirring remarks about his dad.
The national columnist Garrison Keiller wrote this week that the best way to honor someone is through a monument of words. It’s my hope that my words help build an image of John Ira Parker, Sr., husband, father, uncle, grandpa, and great-grandpa, an image that can stand as a memorial and monument for us to remember and pass on.
John was born in Chilly, Idaho, October 1919. The youngest of eleven children, John grew up in the midst of great depression. So he grew accustomed to learning multiple skills and trades, and working hard in order to help the family financially. During the family’s years in Chilly, his parents owned a horse & wagon freight company. He would grow up living in Chilly, Levinworth, WA., and Seattle. In Levinworth, his mom took care of borders and operated a laundry service.
The family had moved to Kennewick, WA by the time grandpa received his Certificate of Graduation. He had just finished eighth grade. His certificate showed exceptional grades in Spelling, Reading, Arithmetic, and U.S. History and Civics. He struggled in Geography, Physiology, and Grammar. Who doesn’t?
After graduating, he worked as a laborer.
On October 19, 1939, John enrolled in the Civilian Conservation Corps, which was a work relief program for young men established by President Fanklin D. Roosevelt "to combat the poverty and unemployment of the Great Depression."(1) Young men worked on conservation projects in rural areas for $1 a day.(2) John served at camp f-85 in Washington, learning and working on the Fire Prevention unit and on Road Construction. He was with the CCC for four months.
After the CCC and before joining the army, we know a few things occurred. 1) He was working as a machinist at Boeing, in Seattle. 2) He met Josephine, by chance one hot summer day when he was washing his car without his shirt on and spied Josephine and her girlfriends ogling him from the window across the street. 3) He married Josephine Madeline Brenn on May 31, 1942.
John joined the Army Air Force on Sept. 23rd, 1942. He achieved his rank as aerial sergeant gunner in Las Vegas, Nevada, on December 28th, 1942 and was assigned shortly thereafter to the Southwest Pacific theater, for the 5th Air Force, 43rd Bombardment Group, and the 64th Bombardment Squadron, also known as "Ken’s Men" because they were under the command of the famous Lieutenant General George Kenney.
Living as a soldier wasn’t always the most comfortable experience. For example, in their base in Dobadura, John noted that even though they could watch the wallaby’s hopping around like jack rabbits, there were "lots of chiggers and something else you couldn’t see. If you hung your clothing on the post of a tent, you had a terrible itching or biting when putting it back on. The latrine was the worst place to go."
And at the Port Moresby air base, John wrote, "we were taken to our planes in large trucks with wood & bench seats over rough roads. It was a jolting good time. The best time, however, was for Petey, our engineer. Several times after returning from our missions, the Red Cross would greet us and hand out shots of whiskey. Petey would always lean in to me and say: "Let me have yours."
"With the tension of flying, bombing, shooting, and being cooped up in a gun turret, my muscles wouldn’t relax. I had terrible pains in my back and chest while I was there from the tension."
There are two surviving letters that grandpa sent to his parents. Both show a young man who loved his parents, loved his wife and longed to be back home with her, wished he could be eating his mom’s homemade pumpkin pie, who thought about his personal faith in God, acknowledging the blessings of this faith in his life.
John carried a pocket-size notebook on all his flight missions. He was a meticulous note taker, documenting vital details of each mission such as which base the mission originated from; the type of mission it was (reconnaissance, attack, strike, search, or move); description of events; which crew he flew with; and how many hours the mission took. He nearly documented all 300 hours of missions.
From these notes, we learn that he participated in multiple attacks on such sites as Salamava, Wewak, Alexis Haven, Lae, Rabaul, over the Bismark Sea, Markham Valley, Rapapau, Finsch Haven, Gasmata, Cape Gloucester, Hoskins strip, Saider, and Kaveing.
Rarely did he add, however, his own thoughts or feelings regarding what he saw. But when he did, they were fascinating.
Consider this note on Mon. Sept. 27: "Target was Wewak. Weather was good. Reached target and dropped our bombs. Coming off target we were jumped by zeros and tony’s. First one dove on us from clouds above and went between our plane and the one on our right and back. One came in at three o’clock where he had been flying along with us and passed over our tail going straight back. Then another came in the same direction. I fired approximately 150 rounds. It smoked slightly when I shot at it. Another came in at 7 o’clock and passed underneath plane."
Consider his note on Mon. Oct. 18: "I didn’t go out on this strike. I had squadron detail. On the strike to Rabaul that the crew and I usually fly with, ran out of gas and crash landed after Dobadura. Crew bailed out and pilot and co-pilot landed ship. Pilot and co-pilot were picked up but rest of crew hasn’t been found yet. They bailed out over the swamp." Below this post, in different handwriting, is the added note: "All were picked up." I like to think these notes highlight grandpa’s sincere concern for his buddies and friends.
But it would be his flight over the Bismark Sea that would lead to his Air Medal Award. This letter was sent to his wife, Josephine, on February 28th, 1944.
[READ LETTER FROM General GEORGE KENNEY]
Music played an integral part of grandpa’s war experience, as evidenced by a listing of numerous popular songs in his flight notebooks. Titles included "Midnight Mood," "Green Eyes," "Black Magic," "Time Was Strolling," "Lovelight in the Starlight," "Sleepy Serenade," "Cow Cow Boogie," "My Little Girl," and "Walking the Floor Over You." Favorite musicians included such names as Glenn Miller, Freddie Martin, Jimmy Dorsey, Tommy Dorsey, Spike Jones, Bing Crosby, Dorothy Lamour, Duke Ellington, and The Andrew Sisters.
Grandpa, believe it or not, also had a softer, romantic side to him during this time, most likely out of his longing for his new wife back home. On the back page of his pocket-size notebook that he took up with him flying is inscribed the lyrics to a popular World War II song, song by Dale Evans and Joan Brooks. The lyrics sit on the back page as if they were final remarks, possibly a closing soliloquy.
I just kissed your picture goodnight.
And now, dear, I’ll turn down the light
your picture ‘neath my pillow
works like a charm it seems
for you steal thru my pillow
into my dreams.
You know we’re not really apart
For we’re still in each other’s heart
So till the dawn my darling
I’m sure I’ll sleep tight
For I just kissed your picture goodnight.
John got on every flight mission he could in order to obtain the 300 hours needed to be able to return stateside and to see his family. He was in Lae when he was notified that he acquired the hours and was being transferred stateside. In personal notes that he penned on November 12th, 2004, John explained his feelings: "It was with mixed emotions when I was preparing to leave. Talking to crew members some of them giving me addresses of wife or family members to call on. It was emotional. They wished they could go but wished me well." But John was so eager to return home to Jo and his son John, who was born January 1943 and had not yet seen.
Stateside, John moved around fulfilling assignments in Wichita Falls, Texas, Sacramento, California, and finally Walla Walla, Washington. These assignments exemplified John’s proficient knowledge of vehicles and his mechanical, training, and managing skills. In Sacramento, for example, he test drove all vehicles and wrote repair requests for each vehicle. In Walla Walla, John was an aerial gunner instructor. John noted regarding this job that "[f]lying with a green crew was exciting."
John was literally a jack of all trades, proficient at most everything he put his mind to. He was a car salesman, car mechanic, plumber, electrician, home designer & builder, automotive architect...you name it. He could do it.
We will remember John, grandpa, for many things: his love of country music and The Lawrence Welk Show; his work ethic; being a man of action and not words; sometimes coming across harsh; that it was futile to debate with him (especially over the proper name of the Swiss dessert "pasta flora"); his generosity; caring for grandma after her stroke; his great laugh; building the Kennewick house, the Parker house, and the apartment on top of the theater; his love for vintage cars; his ability to repair anything; love of movies; love to drive and travel; and the love of the Oregon Coast.
In the song "Lullaby" on the new Dixie Chicks CD, they sing "How long do you wanna be loved? Is forever enough? Cause I’m never going to give you up." Grandpa, we won’t forget you. We won’t ever give you up.
Grandpa’s passing ends our living four generation. You leave behind your son, John Jr. , grandson, Michael, and great-grandson, M, who all have aspects of your features in their faces. This past week, I’ve noticed this as I have looked at myself in the mirror. I have your smile and your eyes. And when I smile, my eyes squint and nearly disappear. Many of us Parker’s have these very features. How can we forget you when your presence is so visible in all of us? We never will.
Grandpa, thank you for teaching us hard work. Thank you for your kindness and support to us and our families. You always seemed interested in what we were making of ourselves. We greatly appreciated this. We will miss you.
(1) Civilian Conservation Corps, Wikipedia
(2) ibid.
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