Tribute continued:

After Tarawa, the Zeilin sailed back to California for refitting. It was during this visit that my mother and father met during a USO dance. The war kept them apart for a bit longer when the Zeilin sailed again to the shores of Kawajalein Atoll delivering the 7th Infantry Division into the jaws of death. After this last assault, my dad having served in a combat zone for two years was sent back to the states for rest and recuperation. During this time he married my mother. The next assignment was to the new aircraft carrier Bon Homme Richard being fitted out on the East Coast. My Dad joined her and became a plank owner, (first crew). The ship sailed for the Pacific in early 1945. They arrived in time for the final months of combat around Japan. The service record that I was able to obtain from the Navy, relate those final months in a single sentence. "Participated in 15 air strikes against targets in Japan, final strike recalled due to surrender."

My father returned to a world where he felt was a different person. The scars of war had left him emotionally wounded. He took a job driving a long-haul truck and partied like a rock-star. The toll on the marriage was fatal. The last time I saw him was during a visit when I was about 5 years old. He was wearing Levi's and a white shirt under a fringed leather jacket that was popular in the fifties, he hugged me and said he'd be back, I watched him as he walked away down the street never to return. I went fifty years wondering why.

The history I uncovered about his life during the war, and the stories that Vince, my long lost brother relayed to me brought his life into focus. My Dad, like thousands of other dads and young men who never would become dads, paid a price to rid the world of totalitarianism.

I never had the chance to tell my father how proud I was of his service and how much I loved him; in this little way I make that declaration to his soul.

A Thanksgiving Tribute to my Dad

The layout of this blog begins with a photo of the USS John C. Pope as it departs San Francisco bound for Southeast Asia. The date on the photo is unknown, but serves to illustrate my departure for Vietnam on Thanksgiving Day, 1966. As I look back on my life this voyage was the gateway event that eventually led to this blog. I cannot plea to being a decorated combat veteran. I saw my share of war and the horrors that color that world. The aftermath of Vietnam left no visible impression on me but emotionally it struck a chord deep within my soul. For years after I returned the very sight of anyone Asian left me with a sense of distress. The Fall of Saigon in 1975 only added to this feeling. Years flew by, I raised a family, got divorced, started a new family, moved on, and again found myself searching. I began to look back on my life.

My dad a World War II sailor, had left when I was five, leaving me to wonder what had happened to him and why he left. A long Internet search led me to his grave. Along the way I discovered that I had three brothers from three families that my father had started and left. Out that revelation I found the history of my father and perhaps why he lived the way he did.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Zeilin_(AP-9)

Jay Wade my dad, enlisted in the Navy December 8, 1941. He was assigned to the USS Zeilin, an attack transport. His first voyage was to a little place called Guadalcanal in August of 1942. He was a gunner's mate on a 20mm. The Zeilin supported the Battle for Guadalcanal from August until November 11, 1942, on that date aircraft attacked the anchorage. The Zeilin fought back and was credited with downing one plane, two near misses ruptured the plates and she withdrew to the West Coast for repairs. Over the next two years the Zeilin carried troops to Alaska, then back to Califonia to star in the movie, Guadalcanal Diary. Then back to the South Pacific to deliver the 2nd Marine Division to a place named Tarawa. It was here that the men of the Zeilin first saw the way the war in the Pacific would be fought. In the photo above right, my father the dark haired guy, can be seen standing in the upper right side, hunched next to the life rafts. The men of the Zeilin are holding services for men killed in action at Tarawa.

First post

Today I join the ranks of others who have enlisted in this brave new world of blogging. It important to begin by explaining my background and reason for founding this blog.

My love of history was first ignited by my grandparents who were proud of their heritage in building this nation. Their complete collection of National Geographic Magazines became my window on the world and sparked a life long interest in history.

My first exposure to that world occurred in 1966 when after joining the Army I served in Vietnam. The experience for all it's brutality left me with a longing to study the effects of other wars. But the realities of having a family, led to a business career. Thirty years went by only to be interrupted again by war. The effect of 9/11 on my logistics business opened the door for me to return to school and pursue an advanced degree in U.S. History. Along the way I realized that our history can only be explained by understanding how World History shaped our own destiny.

This past spring I graduated with a Masters in History. In attaining this goal I have found a sense of redemption for the events that shaped my life back in 1966. Beginning in 1975, this country truly began to open it's doors to people from across the globe. The fall of South Vietnam and the addition of thousands of Vietnamese has been followed by millions of people from all over the world. The fabric of our nation is stronger with the inclusion of people who in the overwhelming majority are fulfilling our destiny of offering equal opportunity to all who come to our shores.

Blending American history and how it is connected to the shared history of people from across the globe has become my passion. I hope to spend the rest of my days offering my insight to the next generation.