Joy Neal Kidney's Blog, page 79

The Year Adis Helped Cook for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving dinner was at Dzenaela’s Aunt Jorja’s. Jorja is an Iowa girl who married Dzenaela’s uncle Almir. In fact, Almir’s parents–who are about my age–were visiting that year from Bosnia. 

So, Aunt Jorja was in charge of the turkey, potatoes, and a dessert. Since Dzenaela loved fixing the turkey, she helped at Jorja’s house. 

I invited her younger brother Adis to help make pumpkin pie and other side dishes. He was born in Iowa when his parents had been here just over a year. They asked if I’d accompany Zlatka through labor and delivery, to help with English, so I did. His birth was the first I’d ever witnessed.

After Adis started school, I sorta became his Cub Scouts grandma. We’d made cakes together for fund-raisers–a lady bug, one that looked like a cheeseburger, and even a prize winning alligator. We’d always decorated them at his condo. So this was the first time we’d cook at my place. 

[image error]Believe it or not, this is all cake, frosting, and candy for “cheese, tomato, and lettuce.”

I had him crack four eggs into a large bowl and started to hand him a whisk to beat them. Then, remembering my son at that age years ago, decided that an old-fashioned egg beater would be more fun for a ten-year-old boy. 

It was, especially when he was still cranking away to flick off the dribbles, flipping egg all over the counter. Good thing our clean-up rag was at the ready.

Then he measured the sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves–after sniffing each one, just like my son used to. Adis liked the cinnamon. Next came stirring while I opened cans of pumpkin and evaporated milk. He scraped the pumpkin into the eggs. I poured in the first can of milk, but he wanted to do the second one himself.

When all was mixed, he ladled it into two pie shells, while I explained what custard is, and that pumpkin pie is one kind of custard. I carried the filled pie shells on a cookie sheet to the stove.

The oven wasn’t quite hot enough so I parked the pies and turned around to do some counter clean up.

There sat the bowl of nicely-combined sugar and spices.

I laughed. “Oh dear, we forgot the spices. Now what?”

“Just stir it into the pies,” Adis suggested.

I ended up pouring the pumpkin mix back into the large bowl, leaving a sloppy edge on both pie shells. While Adis stirred in the spiced sugar, I wiped off what I could from the edges of the dough with a paper towel.

Ladling had been too slow, I guess. This time Adis just hefted the big bowl and poured the filling into the pie shells. By then the oven was ready. He carefully carried the cookie sheet with the pies to the stove, but had me lift it into the hot oven.

“Our pies are going to look kinda ugly,” I said.

“Oh, they’ll taste good anyway.” Those brown eyes twinkled.

That was nice of him, especially since Bosnians hadn’t gotten used to the taste of pumpkin pie. I knew he wouldn’t eat any. 

“And we’ll have a fun story to tell,” I added.

One hour to bake, a couple of hours to cool. We still had scalloped corn, stuffing, and green bean casserole to make. 

Adis crushed crackers for the corn. “I like my corn plain,” he admitted. While sauteing onions and celery for stuffing, he remarked that he probably wouldn’t eat any of that either.

As he opened the mushroom soup for the green bean casserole, he noted that he wasn’t a fan of mushrooms. Oh well, he’d at least enjoy Aunt Jorja’s mashed potatoes and gravy.

I showed him the checklist of what all we were having for the feast, and which relative was bringing what food–such as his mother’s Bosnian bread. He’d eat that!

“Is anyone bringing chips?” 

We laughed, but he was serious.

Indeed, Adis didn’t eat one single thing he’d helped make for the festivities. And his Bosnian grandmother couldn’t quite make herself taste the turkey or the pumpkin pie. Jorja had a roast beef in the slow cooker, just in case. But his grandfather ate some of everything and went back for seconds.

It was an interesting day, with a mix of immigrants, Iowans, and descendants of Mayflower Pilgrims, sharing an American Thanksgiving.

When I got home, I jotted potato chips on the next year’s Thanksgiving checklist. 

And added the “bringer’s” name right next to it. Adis. 

—–

I also became Adis’s flag football and basketball grandma, baseball grandma one summer, but mostly his soccer grandma–making sure he got to practices and home games.

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I asked him recently if he’d learned to like pumpkin pie. He replied that he’d rather have apple pie with ice cream, and brisket instead of turkey.

He was awarded a soccer scholarship to attend Iowa Central Community College, where he graduated, and wants to go on to more college. 

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He’ll spend Thanksgiving this year in tech school, as a new member of the Iowa Air National Guard. 

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Published in The Des Moines Register November 28, 2019.

The story of Dzenaela’s first turkey.

 

Danny Wilson: Request for Disposition of Remains, November 1947

Leora Wilson signed the official paperwork to have her son Danny buried permanently at the Lorraine American Cemetery at St. Avold, France. It also had to be notarized.

She just couldn’t go through another funeral, and didn’t believe they’d ever find her son Dale.

REQUEST FOR DISPOSITION OF REMAINS

I, Leora F. Wilson, Mother, having familiarized myself with the options which have been made available to me with respect to the final resting place of the deceased designated above [2/Lt. Daniel S. Wilson], now do declare that it is my desire that the remains:

X  Be interred in a permanent American Military Cemetery Overseas.

As explained in the pamphlet, “Disposition of World War II Armed Forces Dead” I am the next of kin and the individual authorized to direct the disposition of the said remains.

I, the undersigned, DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR (OR AFFIRM) that the statements made by me in the foregoing document are full and true to the best of my knowledge and believe.

Signed: Leora F. Wilson, Route #2, Perry, Iowa

Subscribed and duly sworn to before me according to law by the above-named applicant this 18th day of November 1947, at city (or town) of Adel, county of Dallas, and State (or Territory or District) of Iowa.

Signed: Georgia W. Clark, Deputy Clerk District Court in and for Dallas County, Iowa.

This photo was taken in Omaha two months later by her nephew Merrill Goff, who grew up in the neighborhood when they lived in Dexter. He’d served in the Marines during WWII and became a photographer, having his own studio in Omaha.

[image error]Leora (Goff) Wilson and her mother, Laura (Jordan) Goff. Omaha, January 1948

 

Danny Wilson: October 1947 Pamphlets “Disposition of World War II Armed Forces Dead” and “American Cemeteries”

Clabe Wilson’s funeral was a year earlier, but the official letters were still addressed to him.

20 October 1947

2/Lt. Daniel S. Wilson. . . .

Dear Mr. Wilson:

The people of the United States, through the Congress have authorized the disinterment and final burial of the heroic dead of World War II. The Quartermaster General of the Army has been entrusted with this sacred responsibility to the honored dead. The records of the War Department indicate that you may be the nearest relative of the above-named deceased, who gave his life in the service of his country.

The enclosed pamphlets, “Disposition of World War II Armed Forces Dead,” and “American Cemeteries,” explain the disposition, options and services made available to you by your Government. If you are the next of kin according to the line of kinship as set forth in the enclosed pamphlet, “disposition of World War II Armed Forces Dead,” you are invited to express your wishes as to the disposition of the remains of the deceased by completing Part I of the enclosed form “Request for Disposition of Remains.” Should you desire to relinquish your rights to the next in line of kinship, please complete Part II of the enclosed form. If you are not the next of kin, please complete Part III of the enclosed form.

If you should elect Option 2, it is advised that no funeral arrangements or other personal arrangements be made until you are further notified by this office.

Will you please complete the enclosed form, “Request for Disposition of Remains” and mail in the enclosed self-addressed envelope, which requires no postage, within 30 days after its receipt by you? Its prompt return will avoid unnecessary delays.

Sincerely, THOMAS B. LARKIN, Major General, The Quartermaster General

Leora had to make the decision, but her two surviving sons and two daughters helped her. She enjoyed children, so was blessed by having six grandchildren by then. The Wilson girls lived with her, and the others lived only 45 minutes from her.

[image error]Leora’s grandchildren to this point: Joy Neal, Robert and Richard Scar, Gloria Neal, Leora Darlene and Donna Wilson. Perry acreage, 1947

Danny Wilson: US Military Cemetery, St. Avold, France – March 1947

Six months after Danny Wilson was buried in the temporary cemetery in France, his mother received this official letter (addressed to Clabe Wilson) from the Quartermaster General:

7 March 1947

Dear Mr. Wilson:

The War Department is most desirous that you be furnished the latest information regarding the burial location of your son, the late Second Lieutenant Daniel S. Wilson, A.S.N.  0 770 058.

The records of this office disclose that his remains were originally interred in a temporary cemetery established near the place where he met his death, but were later moved to a more suitable site where constant care of the grave can be assured by our Forces in the field.

The records further disclose that his remains are now interred in the U. S. Military Cemetery St. Avold, plot KKKK, row 3, grave 64, located twenty-three miles east of Metz, France.

[image error]I located this photo only a few months ago: “War Theatre #12 (France) – CEMETERIES 10×10 Print rec’d 18 October 1946 from The American Battle Monuments Commission, Washington, D. C. Copied 18 Oct 1946. Released, 22 Octo 1946, JIA. ST AVOLD U.S. MILITARY CEMETERY, FRANCE”

(An identical letter was sent 24 April 1947, with his addition: You may be assured that the identification and interment have been accomplished with fitting dignity and solemnity.)

The War Department has now been authorized to comply, at Government expense, with the feasible wishes of the next of kin regarding final interment, here or abroad, of the remains of your loved one. At a later date, this office will, without any action on your part, provide all legal next of kin with full information and solicit their detailed desires.

Please accept my sincere sympathy in your great loss.

Sincerely yours, T. B. LARKIN, Major General, The Quartermaster General

By this time, Leora was widowed. Her oldest son Delbert and his family were living with her on the acreage near Perry. Evelyn and little Leora Darlene had moved to Iowa with him at the end of the war, and baby Donna was born in Perry in November 1945.

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[image error]Doris (Wilson) Neal is holding Gloria, Leora Wilson is holding Joy. Leora Darlene Wilson is in front of Great Grandmother Laura Goff (Leora’s mother from Omaha at the time). Evelyn Wilson is holding Donna. Taken at the Perry acreage, 1947

View from a Nap (poem)

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View from a Nap

Soggy brown
monochrome
with its own foggy beauty,
leaves cling,
pale sky as backdrop
through grandmotherly
lace curtains.

(2020)

Coffee’s for Kids by Guest Blogger Rick Friday

The earliest credible evidence of coffee-drinking appeared in Yemen in Southern Arabia in the middle of the 15th Century, but for me it was across the road at Grandma’s kitchen table in the middle of the 20th Century.


     Grandma, like my dad, brewed and drank coffee all day long. Dad would not let me drink coffee when I was kid because he said it would stunt my growth. Grandma, on the other hand, would always pour me a cup if I wanted one. I felt so grown up.




     She would set a half a cup of coffee in front of me then slide the sugar dish and spoon next to my cup. Then she would fetch a pint of Half & Half from the refrigerator. After three or four tablespoons of sugar and a couple ounces of cream, the cup was full and tolerable to drink. We will visit over a cup of coffee, grandma would say, and she would tell me stories about the Wars, the Great Depression, the Dust Bowl and her experiences teaching in a one room school.


     At that time Grandma was close to the age I am now and looking back to when we were visiting over a cup of coffee, I see that I have it pretty good compared to her and her stories of a family trying to survive.




     I had several sugar filled cups of coffee with grandma that summer and when school started the following fall I was very disappointed when the school nurse said I didn’t grow a single inch from the year before, not one inch. My father was right, coffee stunted my growth and grandma abetted. When I told grandma drinking her coffee made me a runt she giggled and said, “It isn’t the coffee, silly boy, it’s all that sugar you put in it.” I never added sugar to another cup of coffee after that and by golly I grew two inches the next year.


     I wish I’d visited with grandma more over a cup of coffee and I wish I would have asked her more questions, because the more you know about your grandparents the more you will know about yourself.


     Coffee’s for Kids, especially at grandpa and grandma’s house.

—–

Rick Friday is a farmer (from Union County, Iowa), cartoonist, and writer published worldwide with a weekly and monthly print circulation of 193,000. He’s also a Union County Supervisor.

We Facebook followers regularly enjoy his pithy cartoons and poignant stories.

The mutifaceted Rick Friday on TV!

My Grandma Leora favored Postum!

My Larry Spencer POW Bracelet

January in Iowa–sunny and 52 degrees? This made my husband, who has classic car with veteran license plates, itch for a road trip.

We’d never been to see the Madison County Freedom Rock, so we zoomed down Interstate 35 from the Des Moines area to see it.

Iowa’s original Freedom Rock was painted several times by Ray “Bubba” Sorensen, always to honor America’s veterans. At some point, other areas wanted one of their own, so Bubba’s goal is to do one in all of Iowa’s 99 counties.

Set among benches, walkways, and flagpoles, Winterset’s boulder is large enough to be able to convey some Madison County history–as well as connections to the military. John Wayne wasn’t a veteran, but he played military roles several times. He was born in Winterset, so one side is dedicated to him.

Winterset has its own Iowa Quilt Museum. Quilts for veterans are sewn by the group Quilts of Valor, which is highlighted on the east side.

George Stout shares the south side of the slab with Glenn Martin. Martin, born in Macksburg, Iowa, became an aviation pioneer. The WWII story of George Stout has been preserved in the movie “The Monuments Men.”

The west side features four POWs. One of them is Larry Spencer from Earlham.

[image error]Larry Spencer is second from the left.

Lt. Comdr. Larry Spencer was a navy radar intercept officer on a Phantom F-4 when it was shot down over North Vietnam in early 1966. I was a senior in college then but was a high school classmate of Larry’s younger brother, Lee. Larry was held prisoner for seven years at the notorious “Hanoi Hilton.”

POW bracelets were first created in 1970. By then my husband had become an Air Force Vietnam veteran. When POW bracelets were available for Larry, I bought one to wear, to remember and pray for him until he returned to America.

[image error]The Larry Spencer POW bracelet I wore between 1966 and 1973, to remember and pray for him while he was in captivity in Vietnam.

Larry Spencer was freed and came home in early 1973.

The day after our visit to Winterset, The Des Moines Sunday Register featured Sara Maniscalo Robinson’s “war story” from The Des Moines Storytellers Project. Sara is a first sergeant in the Iowa National Guard, and also a wife and a mother. She became involved with creating videos of Iowa survivors of POW camps, including Larry Spencer.

In fact, Larry’s story stood out for her and became part of her own story. She said their conversation taught her perspective, that every veteran has a story.

Several years later, she has founded a nonprofit–The Iowa Veterans’ Perspective–in order to preserve history through the eyes and stories of our veterans.

[image error]Representing four branches of the military: Keith Luchtel (US Air Force), Sarah Maniscalo Robinson (US Army), Larry Spencer (US Navy), and Dan Gannon (US Marines).

I located Sara on Facebook and sent a message, letting her know how touched I was by her story, and told her that I’d worn a POW bracelet for Larry Spencer while he was in captivity. I asked whether she had one. No.

Lump in throat. My keepsake bracelet from the Vietnam era now belongs to Sara. She parked it next to her computer monitor, reminding her of Larry Spencer and–as she says–”to dig deep and keep working.”

It’s been a blessing for both Sara and me to find a good home for part of the important history of one Iowa veteran.

Four-minute video taken by the Gold Star Museum at Camp Dodge, Iowa, Veterans Day 2020. Larry Spenser is the man on the left.

 

Iowa’s Freedom Rocks

Thousands of people visit a huge rock sitting along Highway 25 near Menlo in western Iowa, about a mile south of Interstate 80. 

For years it was covered with graffiti. But while artist Ray “Bubba” Sorensen was still a teenager, this native of Greenfield had been inspired by the movie “Saving Private Ryan,” and thought of a way he could give veterans a unique recognition with that 12-foot-tall boulder.

For Memorial Day, 1999, Sorensen painted patriotic scenes all over the rock. 

Word got around. People from all over wanted to see it. The next year he repainted it with new scenes, to thank our veterans for their service and sacrifice.

As an annual donation, Ray Sorensen repaints that original Freedom Rock in time for Memorial Day. An American flag draped over the top has become a fundamental part of his compelling creations.

Only the Huey helicopter stays because, since 2006, its paint has been mixed with the ashes of Vietnam veterans.

What if he could arrange for a rock designed especially for each county? Even more local men and women could be recognized. The idea took off and, in 2013, Iowa’s Freedom Rock Tour began. 

As his art has matured, so has Sorensen’s vision for Freedom Rocks across Iowa, one for each of our 99 counties. Every one of them is unique to that country’s history. The goal isn’t to depict every local hero, not even all branches of the service, but each is part of the whole.

Spelled out on his website, TheFreedomRock.com, Ray Sorensen’s goals are to honor America’s veterans, contribute to Iowa tourism, and to provide for his family, which includes his wife and partner Maria, and children Indy (short for Independence) and Mikey. 

The shimmering outstretched wings of an American Bald Eagle seem to support five young men in uniform on a large stone at Minburn, Iowa. An American flag shields them from above.

Those five young men honored on the Dallas County Freedom Rock are my mother’s brothers. 

[image error]CEM Donald Wilson (USS Yorktown (CV-5) Navy Commendation Medal, USS Hancock). E1/c Delbert Wilson (USS Maumee (AO-2). Lt. Dale Wilson (B-25 copilot, MIA New Guinea, Declaration of Death 1946, never found). Lt. Daniel Wilson (P-38 pilot, KIA Austria, buried at Lorraine American Cemetery in France). F/O C. Junior Wilson (P-40 pilot, killed when the engine of his plane threw a rod, Texas, the day the second atomic bomb was dropped).

One by one, all five Wilson brothers left a Minburn farm to serve in World War II. Only two came home.

Two dozen years ago, I began writing about the Wilson family. Some of my journaling included prayers. Prayers that their losses would be remembered, that maybe people would even want to see where their stories had taken place.

Two dozen years ago, “Bubba” Sorensen was still in junior high. He’d never even thought about painting a rock.

What an awesome answer to prayer! People visit the Dallas County Freedom Rock, then send me photos of themselves with those young uncles. 

My grandmother, Leora Wilson, would be gratified to know that her family’s enormous sacrifice will never be forgotten, remembered so poignantly on this imposing monument.

Sports greats, Bob Feller (from Van Meter) and Nile Kinnick (from the Dallas County seat of Adel) are depicted on the north side of the rock. Both served in World War II. Kinnick lost his life in a training mishap and was never found.

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One of the Wilson brothers has also never been found. Another was killed in a training accident. The third was killed in action and is buried in an American cemetery in France.

Ray Sorensen’s handsome work also honors first responders  and local history. Each Freedom Rock is a focal point for what’s honorable about each area, preserving what is precious and should never be forgotten.

Iowa’s Freedom Rocks have indeed inspired tourism. I know of individuals and families in cars and vans, also veterans on motorcycles, who have made it a goal to see all 99 Freedom Rocks. Some of them keep photo albums of their visits. 

Some very small Iowa towns will have more visitors than they ever imagined. With a population of just 365 souls, Minburn is one of Iowa’s smallest towns.

Located along Highway 169, just south of the restored Minburn depot, now a bar and grill, this memorial is also near a bicycle trail.

Yes, a memorial. It reminds me that in the Old Testament, Joshua was instructed to take stones from the Jordan River as memorials to their history, so that future children would ask what those stones meant.

What a perfect outing for families to take their children to see one or more of the Freedom Rocks, to explain what Iowa’s treasured tributes mean. 

Most Freedom Rocks are accompanied by a storyboard, which helps explain who the pictured local heroes are and why they should be recognized.

What a moving way to experience an attractive dose of history, to ponder service and sacrifice, what patriotism is all about, and why all we should pause to remember. 

During the winter months Ray Sorensen designs murals all over the country, indoors and out, depending on the climate. He has been inducted into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame, and is now an Iowa State Legislator.

[image error]Photo of Ray Sorensen by Larry Cornelisen, July 1919, Minburn, Iowa

His artistic talent, and his compelling vision for these iconic Freedom Rocks, has turned into a blessing, and a real legacy for the whole state of Iowa.

—–

Eight-minute story on Our American Stories, first aired over WHO-Radio September 29, 2020.

Published in Legiontown USA October 16, 2020

Leora’s Letters: The Story of Love and Loss for an Iowa Family During World War II is available from Amazon in paperback and ebook, also as an audiobook, narrated by Paul Berge.

It’s also the story behind the Wilson brothers featured on the Dallas County Freedom Rock at Minburn, Iowa. All five served. Only two came home.

 

Veterans (poem)

Those caps and vests

declare service

to our country

a branch of the military

a unit number

the name of a ship.

Part of a humble community

of men who said yes

when called.

Warriors

for the rest of us,

a grateful nation.

The soul of America

stooped, tattooed, hands gnarled,

burden of memories, to protect us.

Bearing Purple Heart scars,

also internal wounds

from deployment.

Handclasps, comradeship,

excludes the rest of us,

thankful for their selflessness.

[image error]Chuck Thompson, USAF 1965-69, West Berlin. Uncle Charles Thompson, WWII Marine tank gunner Pacific. Uncle Leon Thompson WWII Army. Uncle Lyle Thompson WWII Marine machine gunner MIA 1942. Cousin Jerry Thompson Vietnam Combat Engineer. Cousin Raymond Thompson, USAF, killed in accident while serving. Mother’s half brother Army pre- and during WWII.

A Compelling Memorial for a Fallen Friend

My sister Gloria is on the Museum Board in Dexter, Iowa. Rod Stanley made a large display there for the Wilson family, since all seven siblings grew up in Dexter.

In 1939, their father became a tenant farmer at Minburn, Iowa, pulling the family out of the scarcity years of the Great Depression. But WWII pulled all five brothers into the military. Only two came home. The display in the Dexter Museum reflects their service and great loss.

The summer after our mother died, I helped man the museum each when it was Gloria’s turn to host visitors. We enjoyed having car clubs stop by. After listening to my talk about the Wilson family, one man invited me outside to look at a car he’d restored and had painted. He backed it up to the museum.

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Tom Brink’s 1955 Chevrolet Bel Air. The car had belonged to Mike Heller, one of Brink’s high school classmates. PFC Michael L. Heller, son of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Heller, was killed in action at Que Son Valley, south of DaNang, South Vietnam Friday, February 20, 1970. He was 19 years old.

Tom found his classmate’s car in a junkyard, where it had been for 40 years. He restored it with new parts, a fresh coat of paint and a mural on the trunk.

This car now pays tribute to Heller and all Vietnam Veterans.

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What a compelling way to remember and honor a classmate who was killed in action in Vietnam.

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Mike Heller is buried at Dunlap, Iowa.