I grew up with the men of 1900-1960s. They were quiet, aware, watchful wwi and wwii veterans. They drank their whiskeys neat, smoked filterless Luckies and Camels. Some smoked cigars or pipes. They were engineers, insurance men, small business owners, designers, inventors, musicians, chefs, and managers. Where they got together, away from their wives, they smoked, drank and talked cars, boats, and the days’ news in deep rumbling tones. They never talked sports and paid it cursory attention. They all had played in two of the biggest games of the century - war. The only leisuure sports i saw them in were golf and boating. They worked hard seldom home before 6pm. They improved the world around them. They were a breed apart. I miss them terribly.
My dad was ten years old when Pearl Harbor was bombed, so he wasn’t in WWII, but he and his friends collected scrap metal. I loved hearing his stories about those days.
Dad learned to fly planes as a teenager and the Navy recruited him. He served as a recon pilot (and also flew a desk on many assignments) for 28 years. His war was the Cold War.
He went home to the Lord in 2015 and is buried next to my mom at Arlington. I miss him.
