Past Due Tribute

(E.H. (Jack) Byers Jr. standing, third from left)

Our new house has a guest room. The guests right now are boxes. Most of the boxes are from my momma's estate and contain things either I haven't seen in years or things I have never seen. Last night, while I was casually opening another white Washington apple box, I pulled out an old metal file box labeled, "Mama and Daddy Keepsakes," written in Momma's handwriting. I could have put it aside with the rest of the keepsake stuff I need to go through, but I decided to endulge myself and take a closer look.

I was hoping for love letters or old valentines sent between my grandpa ("Pa" to me) and my grandma ("B" to me) while he was away in WWII. Instead, I found items that spanned time from Pa's high school days (Letterman N's from his days as a Nashville, AR Scrapper) to his death (obituary, church bulletin containing a tribute and part of his eulogy). There were some things about B also, but I'll save those for another time. This one is for Pa.

I can only go by what I found, what I've been told and what I remember about Pa. He passed away one day after my 14th birthday and a week shy of his 60th, so I can't ask him.

From what I was told when I was young, he grew up with one brother and four sisters, and his father was a hard man who drank and sometimes beat the kids. I know the family owned a good sized farm because I found my great-grandpa's will in which he stated how he wanted the 240 acres in Howard County, AR to be divided. I'm sure Pa learned how to farm, because he had a large and beautiful vegetable garden every summer. When we came to visit, my brother and I would help pick peas, tomatoes, beans, eggplant, squash and okra. I also remember sinking my fingers into freshly turned over soil as we walked behind his tiller picking up potatoes.

One thing Pa never talked about was the war. I knew he was a veteran and had been a gunner in airplanes, but no details. Now I know more. He served for two years during WWII. If I had never opened that box, I would not have known that he spent 1 1/2 years in the South Pacific and was part of 45 air missions. His honorable discharge papers named his decorations and citations as:Good Conduct Air Medal with 2 Bronze Clusters, American Theater Asiatic-Pacific Theater with 5 Bronze Stars, and Philippine Liberation with 2 Bronze Stars. I don't know what any of that really means, but he would never talk about the war or what he did. If I could guess why he didn't, I would say he was proud to have served and proud of his country, but not happy that he had to be part of death and destruction. His title was Staff Sgt. Airplane Armorer Gunner with this description: Flew in 45 combat missions in a B-24 Aircraft over enemy occupied territory of New Guinea and Luzon. Pulled firing pin to arm bombs while airplane was in flight. Inspected and assisted in the repair of bomb racks, gun sights, and turrets. Fired caliber 50 machine guns while in combat. That's a lot of responsibility.

He had married my grandmother before going to war, and returned to Howard County after he finished his service, where he must have worked with his dad and brother for a while. I found a weekly time book with the three of them listed along with hours worked in November of 1945, a month after his discharge. I don't know how long he did that, but he eventually took a job with Reynolds Alluminum. He worked in various locations with Reynolds for 25 years until he retired with disability from a back injury.

His time at Reynolds produced the next surprising piece of information. I found an envelope that contained a picture of him at his retirement. There was a newsletter in the same envelope, so I opened it up. Right there was an article about my Pa and an invention he had made that saved labor and money for the company. I never heard about this. The newsletter was dated 1966, which was two years before I was born, but I still can't believe no one talked about it. I have often wondered how all the improvements have happened to make factories and machines more efficient. Now I know. It is because of people like my Pa, men or women who might have just made it through high school, didn't graduate from MIT, but worked hard, saw a need, and figured out a way to fulfill it. I'm proud that Pa was one of these people.

He was also a poet of sorts. My grandma published some of his poems in a little booklet after he died. I have several copies, but had not looked at them in a while. There was one in the box. Poetry was a way he had of expressing his thoughts and feelings about things, but he never thought his work was worth publishing. My grandmother wanted to give everyone something to remember him by, so she made the booklet. I'm glad she did. The verses are a little window into his viewpoints and his sense of humor. Since we just had the Super Bowl, I thought I would share his poem about a trip to the Cotton Bowl:

Cotton Bowl 1961

We and our friends the Tolletts

Had this brainstorm one day

To drive down to the Cotton Bowl

In Dallas U.S.A.

It was so dark that morning

You couldn't see outside

And most of all those people

Drove just like Bonnie and Clyde.

We finally made it down there

Boy, and what nerve it took

Then the girls went in to change their clothes

And left them on the hook.

Then Glen and Libba told us
You both show little class,
By washing off your fingers with
The water from your glass.

We had a little drizzly rain
But very little heat
Oh, yea you got it figured
The Razorbacks got beat.

We finally made it home that night
By jumping curbs and ruts
Now we've left all those pleasures
To the other football nuts.

Pa's moments of fame weren't limited to company newsletters and postumous publications. He made it into the newspaper too. In 1980 he broke the state record for hybrid striped bass when he caught a 10 3/4 lb., 28 1/2 inch fish. He's actually smiling in that picture.

When we moved to Arkansas in August of 1982, one of the things I was really looking forward to was spending time with Pa. He came to Kansas to help us move, and helped us get settled into the duplex next door to the house he shared with my grandma and where my momma and aunt had been raised. He encouraged my brother to sign up for football and got to see him practice, but never got to see him play. About a month after we moved, he developed a sore throat and was gone less than a month later from a fast acting luekemia. There were so many people that came to pay their respects at his funeral, that the chapel couldn't hold them all. The spilled out into the vestibule.

I know Pa wasn't a perfect man. He had mellowed by the time I came along, but he still had a temper and pictures of him often show his mouth in a hard line rather than a smile. I know he was strict with my mom and aunt sometimes, but I also know he loved them and my grandmother to distraction. He loved my brother and me too and would have loved his other grandchildren if he had lived long enough to know them. He made a difference in his service for our country, a difference in his workplace, and a difference to me. I can attribute my love for home grown tomatoes, red skin potatoes, cornbread and buttermilk, and the smell of pipe tobacco (unsmoked) to him. By example, he taught me to work hard, listen respectfully to my elders yet think for myself, and grow in my faith. There is so much more I could tell, but instead I'll share another poem with you that will let you know another reason I loved Pa and why I miss him still. He loved me.

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Lana is a nice sweet girl
She loves her Pa and B
And if I had one word to say
She would live with B and Me.

Jedie is a hamburger boy
But Lana's a Pop Tarter
Big Mac's always do you good
But Pop Tart's make you smarter.