There’s Nobody Quite Like That Generation

As I sat in my parent’s backyard in the dappled Sunday sunlight, we talked about what we liked, and what we felt about our lives. I felt lucky to be thinking excitedly about going back to work the next day, and how great it is to love what you do so that it flows directly from your Sunday to workweek Monday, without any interruption. I thought too that I was lucky to be close to my dad, to know him and to be a part of his life.

Often Cindy and I talk about that generation of which my father belongs, the World War Two generation that looks at life through a much different lens than younger people do. It’s distinct and it’s passing and it will never be again a part of the American fabric…a whole swath of people who shared the war memories and serving in the various branches of the military. For both sexes that added something to your character, something that we’ll all miss some day.

I thought about that when I walked up the gangplank of the battleship USS Alabama on an early morning in Mobile Alabama. I heard the swing music and saw the photos of the men working on the ship, and thought about this generation, and my dad. We told him that we thought his letters would make a fantastic book, a collection of the sweet, understanding and rich letters he sent and eulogies he presented. I hope that someday he does collect these and offers them to a publisher. people would get a great deal out of his well crafted words from over the years.