This weekend the town of Union City, Indiana will honor my Dad for his World War II accomplishments. There will be a celebration in Harter Park where a plaque honoring Dad will be placed. It’s the beginning of a place to honor home town veterans. You can read about how all of this started on this blog, Happy Birthday to a Quiet Man. 

Well, this event has exploded. People in Union City are coming out of the woodwork, talking about their fathers, mothers, sons and daughters who have served our country. It seems all of the World War II veterans were the same…didn’t speak much about it. 

Union City is in the rust-belt. It has suffered due to the continuing struggles of Detroit. It has survived, but many would say that it is a miracle. To me, my hometown is a testiment to the work ethic and general level-headedness of these midwestern folk. “Okay I lost my job. I’ll go do something else.” Healthy dose of being grounded. 

Dad grew up in Union City and fit right into the mold. Quiet. Unassuming. Basketball Player. A real good one. And then he went off to war. 

He wrote to my Grandma that when he took his first flight off the Yorktown in his Gruman Avenger and looked down on the aircraft carrier “it looked like a postage stamp.” He asked himself how could he possibly land this thing on that. Well he did, with the help of tail hooks. 

After one mission where he had been particularly shot up and limped the TBF Avenger home, his radioman/bombardier came up to him as he was inspecting the plane and said, “Lieutenant Kirwin, I’ll fly with you anytime sir.” 

I would have too. He had the quiet assurance that always made you feel it was gonna be okay. 

A happy early Father’s Day to all fathers, but particularly the World War II Vets. They fought and died for their future and ours, and won. And did it with humility.