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My Grandfather the Hero..... and his Legacy


bill_golf2000

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Just thought I would share this with all of you to remember where we came from and what we should be strive to be!


I once heard a man called a failure, but I saw a man with potential! I heard about a man with a history that no one could know, but only to know that man. It is a story that has been told many times before. This is not just a rags ?to- riches storey, but an ode to my father. A storey about potential that was never recognized by his family, but was followed through by his passion and grace to make his own.
To my father:
I recognize and don?t know your whole past, but you have strived to make the best for ?HIS? family.
The man I know is an honest, congruous and trustworthy man that cares for everyone he touches professionally and personal. He is the kind of man that you would be next to you in battle to lead the way and not be afraid to die for you. He is that man!
This is a storey about his about life before and Now!
Dale Russell Johnson was born on December 7, 1949. The eighth year to the day that sent the United States of America into war with the Japanese, the Pearl Harbor attack that sent us into World War 2.
His Father was born Edwin( Sherily) Johnson. He started his life at seventeen in the United States Navy as an airplane mechanic on the USS Indianapolis. Then served on many occupied Philippine islands where he was an a essential part in keeping the army Air-Corp airplanes maintained while under heavy Japanese bombing raid . He never told us about those times he spent on those islands. In his life after the war he and his wife worked hard to raise a family with three boys in Lakeside, California. Chris,Dale,and Paul. Edwin became a heavy machine mechanic to make ends meat to feed his family. I remember stories my father told me about his childhood, raisasing goats for milk and picking avocados off the trees to feed the family. A real American life. A home with a family that loves each other and sustains itself. Something that is certainly missing from today?s modern family life. I reflect now and recognize the sacrifice that that my grandparents made to enrich my life, but to instill the hard work and dedication to make a solid family.. That they made in their sons without knowing it.
When my grandfather died at the age of eighty, He had been driving a bus for the blind for several years. His wife (my Grandma) had been working in a battered women?s shelter full time. They made this part of their retirement plan. They never took a paycheck nor did they ask for a day off. They were always there for people that needed help and always thought about what they could do to help the people that needed it!
Arriving at his death he was awarded full military honors. At first the family thought it was out of respect because of his military service, but realized that it was for his heroism that he showed on the field of battle. Later after his death did we find out that he was a highly decorated enlisted man that was honored to him on his performance and his character. At his last service he was honored with twenty on gun salute. Until my grandmother received his medals did she know what how important role did he play in winning the war in the Pacific and for our country. Until his death did we find out what and he did and to find out what an American Hero he really was

This is what my father and has passed on to me and it is my responsibility to pass it on to my son.

HeadShot_Kill_Bill

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Wow! What a story! So, turns out he was not a mechanic, but a soldier on the front? My hat's off to this hero. WWII was the last great war, where so many citizens of so many countries felt obligated to the nations of the planet to stand up to facism and genocide and fight the "good fight".

Your story touches home for me.
My maternal Grandfather was also in the South Pacific - a cook on the Submarine Tender USS Sparry. He told me so many stories as a child, so many tales of being out to sea, I swear I thought he was in the war for 20 years.

His "general quarters" battle station was on what I believe may have been a small deck gun with one other person. One of them would turn cranks to aim the barrel, the other would say the command "Pinch" and they'd fire.

Of course, I grew up and learned that the war didn't last 20 years, but his stories were just so numerous it seemed that way. I also learned that he had a medical condition at sea and lost all his teeth (very odd, I must say). He was given an HonDisc after 3 years of service, and I am happy he was around for 20 years of my life. I remember going to his house in '99 when I was married just to sit and listen to the same stories I'd heard a million times before (knowing as an adult does the mortality of a loved one). We sat and drank his beer, The Champaigne of Beers - Miller High Life, which he delivered throughout Southern Oregon in the years following the war.

By sharing stories with others, our passed loved ones live forever.
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