Joy Neal Kidney's Blog, page 83

Essie Sharpton, Who Also Lost a Son on the B-25 Mission to Wewak, New Gunea

Mother of Ted Sharpton

Essie Sharpton of Dacula, Georgia, was such a blessing to Clabe and Leora Wilson. Her youngest son was a gunner on the B-25 missing since November 27, 1943. 

She began writing information to them as soon as the military revealed in early 1945 the addresses of the families of the six missing crew members. They’d been Missing in Action off Wewak/Boram, New Guinea.

[image error]Essie Sharpton in 1987

When Mrs. Sharpton learned of the Wilsons’ other losses, she wrote, “Truly you have had more than your share of sorrow in this world conflict–and though my sorrow is great, I’m ashamed to complain. I feel humble and sorrowful in your great sorrow, and I know it could just as easily have been me instead of you. Why, I don’t know, that it was you who lost three instead of me? I don’t feel I deserve the difference. I’m just trying to be thankful and trusting the Lord for guidance, as I know you are or you couldn’t stand up under so much. May He continue to give you the strength of faith and love that it takes to carry one.”

Only combat mission

Yet, there was a hope that the missing crew members might show up, and she was still hoping and trusting that they’d be found. Her son, Willie Ted Sharpton, was added as the sixth crew member, to man a gun.

He was lost on his only combat mission.

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“Yet I know I’m not better to give than my Heavenly Father, who sent His only Son to die a horrible death for our sins, and I know He knows best whatever has happened–and I know I must trust to Him for comfort. He’ll bear our burdens if we’ll trust him.”

The week before, a young Air Force man had visited Mrs. Sharpton. Part of the squadron in Europe, whose job was to do a thorough job of searching for MIAs. Just because they’d been presumed dead didn’t mean they’d quit searching for them. 

(Later I found evidence that this was true. The records of this crew were compared with evidence found by these search teams, even several years later.)

Mrs. Sharpton said she’d be better satisfied if she could visit New Guinea, and hoped that some day she could, but I don’t think she ever did.

“And though we may never understand why we had to bear these burdens here, we can know in the Great Beyond, and only trust a Higher Power to guide us to a better life.”

She said she was always glad to hear from Leora, and added, “God bless and be with you.

Leora Wilson and Essie Sharpton wrote each other, at least at Christmastime, for decades. What a blessing these two women were for each other through the decades. 

After Mrs. Sharpton died in 1982, her daughter continued to send Christmas cards to Leora. After Leora died in 1987, the daughter sent Christmas cards to Dale Wilson’s twin, Darlene Wilson Scar.

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Essie Sharpton had nine children, the oldest dying as a baby. Mrs. Sharpton was six months pregnant with her youngest when her husband died suddenly of a heart attack.

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/18565706/essie-dora-sharpton

I’m still in contact with two great granddaughters of Essie Sharpton.

[image error]Sharpton family: Seated: Lillie May, Essie, James. Standing: Jack, Troy, Ben, Dollie. (Dollie was a nurse during World War II.)

 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.

Essie Sharpton

Mother of Ted Sharpton

Essie Sharpton of Dacula, Georgia, was such a blessing to Clabe and Leora Wilson. Her youngest son was a gunner on the B-25 missing since November 27, 1943. 

She began writing information to them as soon as the military revealed in early 1945 the addresses of the families of the six missing crew members. They’d been Missing in Action off Wewak/Boram, New Guinea.

[image error]Essie Sharpton in 1987

When Mrs. Sharpton learned of the Wilsons’ other losses, she wrote, “Truly you have had more than your share of sorrow in this world conflict–and though my sorrow is great, I’m ashamed to complain. I feel humble and sorrowful in your great sorrow, and I know it could just as easily have been me instead of you. Why, I don’t know, that it was you who lost three instead of me? I don’t feel I deserve the difference. I’m just trying to be thankful and trusting the Lord for guidance, as I know you are or you couldn’t stand up under so much. May He continue to give you the strength of faith and love that it takes to carry one.”

Only combat mission

Yet, there was a hope that the missing crew members might show up, and she was still hoping and trusting that they’d be found. Her son, Willie Ted Sharpton, was added as the sixth crew member, to man a gun.

He was lost on his only combat mission.

[image error]

“Yet I know I’m not better to give than my Heavenly Father, who sent His only Son to die a horrible death for our sins, and I know He knows best whatever has happened–and I know I must trust to Him for comfort. He’ll bear our burdens if we’ll trust him.”

The week before, a young Air Force man had visited Mrs. Sharpton. Part of the squadron in Europe, whose job was to do a thorough job of searching for MIAs. Just because they’d been presumed dead didn’t mean they’d quit searching for them. 

(Later I found evidence that this was true. The records of this crew were compared with evidence found by these search teams, even several years later.)

Mrs. Sharpton said she’d be better satisfied if she could visit New Guinea, and hoped that some day she could, but I don’t think she ever did.

“And though we may never understand why we had to bear these burdens here, we can know in the Great Beyond, and only trust a Higher Power to guide us to a better life.”

She said she was always glad to hear from Leora, and added, “God bless and be with you.

Leora Wilson and Essie Sharpton wrote each other, at least at Christmastime, for decades. What a blessing these two women were for each other through the decades. 

After Mrs. Sharpton died in 1982, her daughter continued to send Christmas cards to Leora. After Leora died in 1987, the daughter sent Christmas cards to Dale Wilson’s twin, Darlene Wilson Scar.

[image error]

[image error] [image error]

Essie Sharpton had nine children, the oldest dying as a baby. Mrs. Sharpton was six months pregnant with her youngest when her husband died suddenly of a heart attack.

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/18565706/essie-dora-sharpton

I’m still in contact with two great granddaughters of Essie Sharpton.

[image error]Sharpton family: Seated: Lillie May, Essie, James. Standing: Jack, Troy, Ben, Dollie. (Dollie was a nurse during World War II.)

 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.

1942 Plymouth, One of the Last New Cars Built Before War Broke Out

While Donald Wilson was home in November 1941, AWOL, his family traded off their “old smoking Buick” for a brand-new gray, 1942 Plymouth four-door, 95-horsepower, Special Deluxe sedan with concealed running boards. 

They had no idea that it would be one of the last new cars sold because WWII broke out early the next month. List price $935.

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According to the ad, Plymouth was Chrysler Corporations No. 1 car, with 10 percent more power, extra gas mileage, and long engine life.

“Plymouth’s Finest is long, wide and roomy. And the smart, low-to-the-road design that gives it its sleek, dashing appearance also contributes wonderful new smoothness and steadiness to Plymouth’s ride!”

It also featured what became known as “suicide doors.”

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This best-engineered low-riced car sponsored Major Bowe’s Amateur Hour on CBS Radio on Thursdays.

Donald Wilson rode in the Plymouth to Des Moines to return to the Navy. After war was declared, Delbert was next. One by one, the younger three brothers drove to Des Moines in the Plymouth to serve in the Army Air Force.

Before Junior Wilson left, he made sure his dad could drive it. Clabe had never had to learn because one of his sons always wanted to drive. (Same with the John Deere A tractor. Clabe always worked with horses until all his sons left.)

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The Plymouth had a large enough trunk to carry a crate of chickens to their new place near Perry.

I had many rides in that car! Mom and I lived with my grandparents at Minburn after I was born in June until Dad could fetch us from Texas, 1944. Then the spring of 1945, he was sent to pilot B-17s, then to command the B-29, training was speeded up. Families couldn’t go along, so we Mom and her toddler moved in with Clabe and Leora at their acreage at Perry. Mom even got her first driver’s license with this car.

After Clabe Wilson’s death in October 1946, I don’t know what happened to the Plymouth, as Leora never learned to drive.

 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.

1942 Plymouth

While Donald Wilson was home in November 1941, AWOL, his family traded off their “old smoking Buick” for a brand-new gray, 1942 Plymouth four-door, 95-horsepower, Special Deluxe sedan with concealed running boards. 

They had no idea that it would be one of the last new cars sold because WWII broke out early the next month. List price $935.

[image error]

According to the ad, Plymouth was Chrysler Corporations No. 1 car, with 10 percent more power, extra gas mileage, and long engine life.

“Plymouth’s Finest is long, wide and roomy. And the smart, low-to-the-road design that gives it its sleek, dashing appearance also contributes wonderful new smoothness and steadiness to Plymouth’s ride!”

It also featured what became known as “suicide doors.”

[image error]

This best-engineered low-riced car sponsored Major Bowe’s Amateur Hour on CBS Radio on Thursdays.

Donald Wilson rode in the Plymouth to Des Moines to return to the Navy. After war was declared, Delbert was next. One by one, the younger three brothers drove to Des Moines in the Plymouth to serve in the Army Air Force.

Before Junior Wilson left, he made sure his dad could drive it. Clabe had never had to learn because one of his sons always wanted to drive. (Same with the John Deere A tractor. Clabe always worked with horses until all his sons left.)

[image error]

The Plymouth had a large enough trunk to carry a crate of chickens to their new place near Perry.

After Clabe Wilson’s death in October 1946, I don’t know what happened to the Plymouth, as Leora never learned to drive.

 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.

Japanese Surrender in Tokyo Bay–End of World War II–75th Anniversary

The war was finally over. 

On September 2, 1945, General Douglas McArthur accepted the Japanese surrender documents aboard the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay.

More than 300 ships were in Tokyo Bay for the historic ceremony, including an aircraft carrier with Iowan Chief Electrician’s Mate Donald W. Wilson on the crew. 

How did a twenty-eight-year-old from the tiny town of Dexter end up in Tokyo Bay at the very end of World War II? 

After he and his older brother had graduated from Dexter high school in 1933, there were no jobs, not even for their father, who labored part-time for the government. So they joined the Navy in 1934.

Donald reenlisted after his four years were up, and became part of the crew of a brand new aircraft carrier, the USS Yorktown (CV-5).

When Pearl Harbor was attacked in December of 1941, Donald was in the brig at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station in Chicago for jumping ship to have one last visit with his folks near Minburn, where they were farming then. The Yorktown had already been part of the Neutrality Patrol in the Atlantic, dodging U-boats.The sailors knew that war was looming

Wilson was quickly returned to the carrier, which was ordered to the Pacific where it was instrumental in the early naval action. The Yorktown was damaged in the Battle of the Coral Sea in May of 1942, and sunk at Midway a month later.

Donald had to abandon ship twice at Midway. The ship didn’t sink right away. He was part of a group of fewer than 200 men who reboarded the crippled carrier to try to salvage it. In fact, he was topside in time to see the torpedoes that ultimately doomed the ship.

Wilson was awarded a citation by Admiral Chester A. Nimitz for being a salvage crew volunteer. 

Later in the war, after a promotion to Chief Electricians Mate and more schooling, he was assigned to the crew of another new aircraft carrier, the USS Hancock (CV-19). From October 1944 through the end of the war, the Hancock was in nearly every major naval battle, except when out for repairs after being slammed by a kamikaze.

The day the surrender documents were signed, and the Hancock was one of the ships in Tokyo Bay, the grave of Donald’s youngest brother was just a month old. Donald had gotten the news that Junior Wilson’s P-40 had exploded in formation training in Texas. 

When Donald’s parents at Minburn got that telegram, they were expecting news about his brother Dale, whose B-25 and crew had been Missing in Action since November 1943. Or about another brother Danny, who had been Missing in Action since February when his P-38 was lost in Austria.

Donald folks didn’t know until the next January that Danny’s grave had been located in Austria, and that an official Declaration of Death date had been made for Dale. 

A few months later, their father Clabe Wilson died of a stroke. And a broken heart.

Donald had planned to make the US Navy his career, but by then he’d married and just didn’t want to spend so much of his time gone from home. He became a commercial fisherman in Washington State, where his wife was from. 

He wouldn’t want to be called a hero, saying he was just doing his job. In fact, Uncle Don didn’t want me to apply for any medals that he’d earned but didn’t have. That was, until he learned that the Naval Citation Medal had been awarded for those who’d been part of the salvage crew for the USS Yorktown at Midway. He gladly accepted that one.

This one young Iowan was part of world history, including being on an aircraft carrier in Tokyo Bay when World War II came to an end. Yes, the war was over, but the wounds of war never completely heal.

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I thought Uncle Donald Wilson said that the ship was in Tokyo Bay at the signing of the surrender, but according to Arthur J. Barnett (N Div, 1944-45), in a letter published in the December 1999 issue of “Hannah News,” it was not.

“All the carriers were ordered to sea the day before to launch planes to fly over the Missouri during the Surrender. The sight of all those planes massing was something I will always remember.”

Detasseling Corn: Summer of the First Hundred Dollars

The consequences of the summer of the first hundred dollars began to show up the summer of the dermatologist thirty-some years later.

I earned my first hundred detasseling corn for Garst and Thomas, an Iowa seedcorn company, with a team of women and girls from the Dexter area.

We were paid 60 cents an hour.

If we stuck it out for the whole season, we were offered the incentive of 15 cents more per hour. I was determined to earn that extra 15 cents.

It was the summer before high school. Fumble at the alarm. 4:30. Surely it isn’t time yet. Eyes won’t quite open, even after a spash of cold water. Not really hungry, but would be about 9:00. Dress three layers deep. Mom drives me into town with a sandwich and a blanket. Yawn.

Like cattle, we march into a stock truck. Yes, a hosed-out truck of a local cattle hauler. Hard benches. Packed  in. Chilly draft. Sharp bones. As we jerk along, dirt sifts through my hair, into my eyes. Corn, corn, miles and miles of corn. About 50 miles later, we girls are jostled as the truck bumps along a rutty path. “Everyone out!”

Stretch. Slowly down the plank. “Block in!”

The rows are so long, and we’re on foot. No machines back in 1958. Every tassel, every stalk. Hold a stalk in left hand, right thumb down. Remember: only one leaf. Reach again. Pull. Reach Pull. Back begins to ache. Leaves dewy and itchy.

Sore arm. Switch hands. Reach, pull. Reach, pull, like a machine. Back aches more, but no end in sight.

Can’t get a tan in long sleeves, so the shirt gets tied around my waist. Keep going, no stop to rest. End must be coming up. Legs hot. Jeans also tied around my waist. Take off another shirt. Swimsuit is old anyway.

Left: reach, pull, reach, pull. Right: reach pull reach pull. Two hours later, rest, water served from a cooler. Must be from a rusty stream, but west and cooler anyway.

Someone sick about halfway back. Have to finish her row. Finally, after another hour, everyone is out.

10:30. I’m starved. If we got through again, it’ll be 1:30! Double up and take every other stalk.

Must be getting a burn. Corn leaves lacerate my neck. Bottoms of feet sting. Temples west and pounding. Mouth dry and panting. Back aches. I’m starved. I wish I could quit, but I want that bonus.

Got through that row by 12:30. Spread blanket along farm driveway, near chickens. Off with shoes. Every day the same: bologna sandwich with white bread and Miracle Whip, fruit, milk. Lie back. Watch cottony clouds float in tranquil blue.

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Seed corn fields are planted with two types of corn. Some rows will become “female” rows, having the tassels removed, to bear the new hybrid seed. The others will retain their tassels, remaining the “male” rows, in order to pollinate the female rows. There are three or four rows of female to every one row of male, so we had to make sure we were not detasseling a wrong row.

Have to start again already? I think again about quitting. Zinc oxide, white and sticky, coating my nose. Shirt back on. Don’t want more sunburn. Should be done by 4:00.

Bones weary. Sun baking clear through my shirt. Arms burn. Hope no more corn poisoning. Head and stomach dizzy. I wish I could quit. Maybe only 50 more stalks. I don’t care if the water’s got bugs in it. I just want to feel it sizzle as it trickles through my hair.

Oh, finally, finally. Where’s the water? I don’t blame the girls who quit this afternoon. Feel lousy. I’m never coming back. The pay isn’t worth it.

Someone just detasseled the end of a row and left the middle. I’m not volunteering to go back, but if we ever want to get out of this place, we’ll have to. Finally done at 5:30.

Home at 7:30. I want to go to the ballgame in town but, thank goodness, Mom says no. Cool bath stings. Back aches, bones moan, sunburn peels. Mom says I don’t have to stick it ut.

Bed at 9:30. Nightmares of corn, tassels, weeds, sunburn, zinc oxide, suffocating smell of suntan lotion, dirt, more tassels, dirty water.

Day after day after day.

The most miserable job I ever had. But I didn’t quit. I got that bonus and had $100 in the bank to show for my summer before high school.

Undoubtedly begun in those cornfields, the spots the dermatologist worked on thirty-sme years later, during six short minutes, cost almost exactly twice what I earned that long sunburnt summer of my first $100.

Harry Wold, P-38 Pilot, Danny Wilson’s Best Friend

Harrison E. Wold (1923-2005)

15th Air Force, 14th Fighter Group, 37th Fighter Squadron–P-38 pilot

A crowded Liberty Ship with hundreds of troops, fourteen pilots, including Lt. Dan Wilson and Lt. Harry Wold, and five new P-38s sailed for Europe in October 1944.

Harry wrote his fiancee Jeanne, “Laid around in the sun all day, talking with Danny Wilson, a kid from Iowa. Met him at Santa Rosa. He’s really a good kid, doesn’t smoke, drink, or run around with wild women. He’s a lot like Youtz, which makes him one of the two nicest fellows I’ve known.”

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When they got to their base at Foggia, Italy, it was too cold to live in tents so they set about rounding up stones and anything they could find to build huts. Harry was also from Iowa–Elkader.

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Harry also wrote his fiance that Danny Wilson was a fresh air fiend who always had to have the windows and ventilator open at night. Harry’s ears and nose would get so cold that he’d have to keep his head under the covers, where he couldn’t get any of that fresh air.

Lt. Harrison E Wold survived 36 missions without ever having his P-38 hit. In fact, he thought his plane was the only one that never got a hole in it in combat.

He wrote Clabe and Leora from Luke Field, Phoenix, Arizona. that he squadron had still hadn’t received any definite word about what had happened to Danny at the time he left Italy. They’d all thought he had a very good chance of being taken prisoner, and thought they might hear something when the war ended in Europe, especially since no one saw him crash.

Harry got a degree in Mechanical Engineering at Iowa State University and worked in California oil and gas fields for 40 years.

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Harry and Jeanne Wold once returned to Iowa and took the time to stop at the home of relatives of Danny Wilson, bringing his photo album with pictures from their time in Italy.

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Harry and Jeane Wold visiting Danny Wilson’s sister, Doris, in Iowa.

Obituary of Harrison E. Wold (1923-2005)

The WPA Guide to 1930s IOWA

The WPA Guide to 1930s Iowa

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Originally published during the Great Depression, The WPA Guide nevertheless finds much to celebrate in the heartland of America. Nearly three dozen essays highlight Iowa’s demography, economy, and culture but the heart of the book is a detailed traveler’s guide, organized as seventeen different tours, that directs the reader to communities of particular social and historical interest.

In the first 100 days of President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s first term in office, the so-called New Deal agencies were launched to counter the Great Depression of the 1930s.  Of the approximately 100 administrations, commissions and projects that were initiated, the Works Progress Administration (WPA) was the largest.

Federal Writers’ Project

One of many projects undertaken by the WPA was the Federal Writers’ Project, created in 1935.

The American Guide Series was a subset of works produced by the Federal Writers’ Project (FWP) and and is one of the most well-known FWP projects.  The American Guide Series Books, created through a cooperative effort of both Federal and State organizations, are part travel guide, part almanac. Each includes illustrations and photographs and offers a fascinating snapshot of the 48 United States in the Union, and Alaska, in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Additionally there are guides covering some of the major cities and some smaller ones, and a selection that focuses on inter-state adventures.

According to Wikipedia, the series of books were printed by individual states, and contained detailed histories of each of the then 48 states of the Union with descriptions of every major city and town. The project employed over 6,000 writers.

Reprinted

The WPA Guide to 1930s Iowa has been reprinted, and is available through Amazon. It’s not cheap but since I’ve been writing about that era, it’s been a great resource and is fun to read. It’s arranged by tours, with information to learn about each town on your trip.

Wikipedia gives a list of states and cities with books written about them in the 1930s for the Federal Writers’ Project. Several of them have been reprinted and are available through Amazon.

Ralph Woods, P-40 Pilot, Accompanied His Friend’s Casket Home

Ralph Woods, the young airman who accompanied Junior’s casket back to Iowa, sent Wilsons a letter dated August 31, 1945, telling about needing to move planes to Waco because of a hurricane at Victoria, and that he was anxious to get out of the army, to go back to Colorado  and help his father or to go back to school.

“Again I would like to say that you folks were certainly grand to me. I have chalked it up as one of my “must do” future plans in getting to see you all again.”

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After the war, Ralph Woods returned to Montrose, Colorado, where he farmed. He also kept in touch with the Leora Wilson from time to time.

Ralph Woods corresponded with me during the 1990s. He said that he was nervous about coming to Iowa with Junior’s casket, but honored to be chosen. He remembered that he was missing a uniform button, and presenting the American flag to Clabe and Leora. “Oh, what wonderful and brave people they were–and the rest of your family as well.”

Ralph said that he and Junior talk about their families quite a bit. They both grew up with four brothers and two sisters.

Ralph and Ruby Woods had five daughters! He sent this photo in 1991.

[image error]Ruby and Ralph Woods with daughters: Peggy, Elizabeth, Terry, LaRel, and Charity. Christmas 1991.

From the 2012 obituary of Ralph Woods: “He joined the Army Air Corps during World War II and was stationed in Texas as a flight instructor for all small fighter aircraft. It really bothered him that he was training young men to fight who only had a life expectancy of two weeks.

“Another instructor who was a close friend was killed in front of him during a training mission due to an engine malfunction. Ralph had to escort his body home by train. Five of his brothers and one sister also served in the armed forces during the war; their mother Grace Woods proudly displayed the six stars in her window. All came home. Ralph continued in the Air Force Reserve, retiring as a major and at one point working as a recruiter for the Air Force Academy.”

Ralph Woods is buried at Montrose.

I’m still in contact with one of the sisters.

 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.

Ralph Woods, P-40 Pilot

Ralph Woods, the young airman who accompanied Junior’s casket back to Iowa, sent Wilsons a letter dated August 31, 1945, telling about needing to move planes to Waco because of a hurricane at Victoria, and that he was anxious to get out of the army, to go back to Colorado  and help his father or to go back to school.

“Again I would like to say that you folks were certainly grand to me. I have chalked it up as one of my “must do” future plans in getting to see you all again.”

[image error]

After the war, Ralph Woods returned to Montrose, Colorado, where he farmed. He also kept in touch with the Leora Wilson from time to time.

Ralph Woods corresponded with me during the 1990s. He said that he was nervous about coming to Iowa with Junior’s casket, but honored to be chosen. He remembered that he was missing a uniform button, and presenting the American flag to Clabe and Leora. “Oh, what wonderful and brave people they were–and the rest of your family as well.”

Ralph said that he and Junior talk about their families quite a bit. They both grew up with four brothers and two sisters.

Ralph and Ruby Woods had five daughters! He sent this photo in 1991.

[image error]Ruby and Ralph Woods with daughters: Peggy, Elizabeth, Terry, LaRel, and Charity. Christmas 1991.

From the 2012 obituary of Ralph Woods: “He joined the Army Air Corps during World War II and was stationed in Texas as a flight instructor for all small fighter aircraft. It really bothered him that he was training young men to fight who only had a life expectancy of two weeks.

“Another instructor who was a close friend was killed in front of him during a training mission due to an engine malfunction. Ralph had to escort his body home by train. Five of his brothers and one sister also served in the armed forces during the war; their mother Grace Woods proudly displayed the six stars in her window. All came home. Ralph continued in the Air Force Reserve, retiring as a major and at one point working as a recruiter for the Air Force Academy.”

Ralph Woods is buried at Montrose.

I’m still in contact with one of the sisters.