The few surviving members of the Greatest

Generation from Wyoming who fought in

World War II are now nearing 100 years old

or even older.

A few weeks ago would have marked my

dad’s 100th birthday. He died 19 years ago and

was proud of his service in World War II. He

has been on my mind a lot lately.

He was an Irish Catholic businessman in a

little town in northeast Iowa most of his life.

But he always said he spent 13 of the most

fun years of his life here in Wyoming. He

moved my mom and three youngest siblings to

Lander in 1978

My three youngest brothers, Jerry, Ron

and Don, graduated from Lander Valley High

School and also the University of Wyoming.

Ron works in Cheyenne as executive director of

the Wyoming Education Association. Although

she did not go to high school here, my sister

Susan Kinneman is a teacher in Fort Washakie

and lives in Riverton.

Our mother will celebrate her 95th birthday

in Broomfield, Colo.

But back to my dad.

He was a member of the Greatest Generation

that served during World War II. He served

in the 363rd Engineers Company, which was

charged with building camps and bases. “Seems

like we always built the Officers’ Clubs first,”

he used to joke.

He spent most of his time in Tehran, Iran,

and I can remember marveling at a dagger and

a sword he brought home along with various

dishes, plates, plaques and rugs. Many of them

had “Persian Gulf Command” inscribed on

them.

As a young Iowa kid he got to see a lot of the

world. He sailed across the Pacific on a voyage

that lasted 57 days. He visited Egypt twice and

among the family heirlooms are photos of him

in front of the pyramids.

Perhaps the most exciting part of the war for

him, after four years, was getting out. The guys

in his unit were afraid they would fight with

Japan. But each day, a certain number of guys

would be given their discharge slips and would

head home.

Finally, he got his.

He boarded a plane and flew with stops at

Cairo, Tripoli and Casablanca before boarding

a C-54 for a flight back to the states. Once in

Miami, he got on trains that took him back to

his home in Wadena, Iowa. He arrived there on

July 6, 1945. I might point out that I was born

eight and half months later – the first real baby

boomer!

Dad described his service in WWII as, “A

million dollar experience that I wouldn’t give

10 cents to experience again.”

I remember Dad as a very honest person.

He always emphasized that we must never lie.

When I was growing up at home, he emphasized

to me that I had never lied to him.

On one occasion when I was about l2, one

of my brothers had pulled some stunt. I don’t

remember what it was, but I remember the aftermath

like it was yesterday.

Dad called me aside and firmly told me,

“Bill, I know you’d never lie to me. Now, look

me in the eye and tell me what you boys have

been up to.”

I don’t remember what I told him, but I do

remember I looked him in the eye – and I lied!

So what kind of man was Dad? I would say

he measured up pretty well if you note the unconditional

love given him by his wife Betty for

nearly 60 years.

Dad was an Irishman. He had freckles and

always a twinkle in his eye and a great sense

of humor.

In his old age, he had become the perfect

grandfather figure. He could tell you exactly

which of the kids or grandkids were traveling

and he would monitor the weather and say

prayers to get them safely where they were

going.

One of my forever visions of him is seeing

him asleep in his favorite chair with a little baby

also asleep on his chest.

My dad was a man of high principle, lofty

ambitions and passionate political beliefs. He

stressed education to his children and pushed

them to achieve their highest potential. It is interesting

that at the time of his death in 2000,

his 11 kids had accumulated 44 years of college

education – an average of four years per child.

Finally in 1978 with the Iowa economy

crumbling, Dad left that pretty Iowa valley and

moved west to Wyoming. We were sure glad.