Values
I grew up on or near military bases, where I learned to give everyone the respect that a military life may engender.
It has served me well.
As I grow older, I appreciate more and more how fortunate I have been to have been taught this foundation upon which to build a good life. Sometimes, when I encounter those whose upbringing did not include this, I appreciate my good fortune even more.
Values that I perhaps took for granted in my youth now help me through sometimes challenging times.
My father, born in 1909, was drafted in 1942, into what was then the Army Air Corps, and later became the Air Force.
His family had lost their self made savings in what was then called the Great Depression of 1929, and instead of going to dental school he wound up selling shoes.
He found value in the security of a military life. My parents appreciated the secure environment in which to raise a family.
He had flown missions as crew in China/Burma/India (over the Himalayas), from which half the planes didn’t return, and for which he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, and other medals.
He later flew in the Berlin Airlift, and had also flown the American judges to the trials at Nuremberg.
Growing up, I didn’t know or probably appreciate how special these things were.
He never talked much about the war.
Before his retirement, he had progressed through to the rank of Master Sergeant.
We lived in Hawaii from 1960 through 1963, where I learned to sail, surf, and got my ham radio license. It was a good place to grow up.
Dad retired In November, 1963 when John Kennedy was assassinated.
We then moved to Miami, Florida. I was in the 11th grade.
Before his retirement, we had moved every year and a half or three year tour of duty. We had lived in Japan when I was 5, in Morocco in the mid 1950’s, and in many parts of the United States, including Ohio, Michigan, and Georgia.
It was a good life, with the mixed blessings of more travel and exposure to many different cultures, both in the US and abroad, and less opportunities to grow roots and maybe less stability in some ways, being regularly uprooted.
It was ,was, as is each of our unique upbringings, both a blessing and a curse.
I’m very pleased with how I turned out, although it was somewhat challenging at times!
My grandparents were immigrants from Eastern Europe. (My great grandmother, as the story goes, told my Mom’s mother when she was young, “If you haven’t seen Odessa, you haven’t seen the world.”.
My parent’s took pride in the fact that we always had enough food on the table, and we were taught the importance of education.
Grandpa Stein, (my mother’s father) was a baker, and my Father’s dad was in construction, and had built stairways for tenement buildings in New York City).
They came to this country around 1905.
To be continued…
Blessings to All, Daniel
