Veterans Day - 2011

Another year has rolled around ... I am in my 80th year. I will explain that, it was explained to me recently. I just had, in September, my 79th birthday ...... but, I am presently in my 80th year .... because, you live for one whole year before you are 1 ......... so, from birth to your first birthday, you are in your first year .... so, I am in my 80th year.

I can get two years worth of uhs and ahs, this year and next year. "How old are you, Joe?"

"I am in my 80th year."

And, "How old are you Joe."

"Turned 80 last September."

Veterans Day.

My Grandfather, Caleb Dooley, was in the Civil War. My Father, Ralph Dean Dooley, M.D., was in World War One. My Brother, Dean Shannon Dooley was in World War Two.

I was in the Navy during the Korean War, Son Dean was in during Viet Nam, and Son Brad served during Desert Storm. A long family line of veterans.

My Veteran story, which I have told here before, but will repeat, as I often do.

OSU-Navy football game a few years ago. I wore a hat my son Brad had given me. Navy hat BMU-2 STINGERS ...... Dooley on the back. I wore it to that game. At the Varsity Club a Navy Captain approached me, looked at my hat, extended his hand, and said, "Thanks for your service."

That happened a lot that day, first day I really felt like a Veteran.

I had a good four years in the Navy. Spent two years in San Diego working in the Discipline Office for the Eleventh Naval District, discharged the "Bad Boys," and there were quite a few of them, did a couple of months on Shore Patrol in Tijuana, and spent two years on the USS William Mitchell, hauling troops and dependents to Japan and other points East. So, I had a good four years.

I remember WWII well, had a Victory Garden, collected cans and grease, we had ration cards, and a sticker on Dad's car for gasoline purchases. I remember sugar being scarce, neighbors coming to our house to say hello when they were home on leave. Bob Shook spent time in the water when his aircraft carrier sank, and came to tell us about it. We had a Stromberg-Carlson radio, which you could record on little white records. We used it a lot, neighbors and friends would stop by and make a record to send overseas, and often, people would bring records they had received for us to play for them.

I remember spending many hours in front of the radio listening to war news. I did get to see FDR In a parade in Dayton, riding with Charles Kettering and Orville Wright.

I will never forget, and it is as vivid in my memory now, as it was that morning, when the Navy Recruiter drove his gray Navy vehicle, up Montgomery Road, to pick up our Son, Brad, and take him away, to serve in the Navy. A sadness and emptiness that is hard to explain, and so many people have gone through similar experiences.

My Dad often told the story about looking back at his Father, Caleb, the Civil War Veteran, as he left on a train  in Marion, Indiana, to go to his basic training in World War I. Caleb had lived through the horrors of war, and knew what his son was heading towards.

Just think what this country could be like, if it were not for veterans, and those who gave their lives.

My Table under the window, next to my chair

It's morning, nice and quiet, "Easy Listening" music coming out of the TV, my U.S. Navy coffee cup nearby, working on my second cup, glancing occasionally at the table next to my chair. I have a lifetime of memories on the table, that my Dad make. He made it with a glass top, and a drawer under that, so you see everything in the drawer, that he made near the top.

All the "treasurers" should be in the drawer  they don't collect dust, but I have they on top where they are readily visible for me to glance at.

A small photograph of my Mom and Dad, it was one of Mom's favorites, next to that, a photo of my Brother, Dean Shannon Dooley. We were about twelve years apart, so we were never really close fiends, he was always many steps ahead of me. He has always been my "hero" though.

A number of birthday cards, an old tintype of Caleb Dooley, my Grandfather, some things from Brad and Bernie, some things from Melissa, my daughter, a small wood carving from the 40's, purchased in Canada on a trip there, some souvenirs of my Dad and Caleb medals and things.

Also a pair of dice from the Nevada Club, along with a $5 chip from there, could be one that I handled back in the 50's.

My bottle of Dr. Franks, I use it a few times a day, seems to work on my arthritis, and under that bottle my magnets. When I get an ache or a sore spot, I use a magnet, and it goes away in a short time. Hey, it works for me, and there are many people who I suggested those remedy's to, and they have often thanked me.

My Mom always referred to things like those as her "treasures" and  these certainly are to me.

In a brief glance I can go from the Civil war, to today, and all that happened in between.

Quiet time, so much "noise" in the world, nice to spend some "quiet" time, with t table full of memories.

Ralph Dean Dooley, M.D. - My Father

I have written about him before, but it's Fathers Day, and he is my Father.

He was born on a farm in Indiana, good work ethics were instilled in him by his Father, Caleb, who served in the Civil War. In school, I am sure, he was a good student and always eager to learn. Prior to his death, I had him jot down notes about his life, that link is included on the blog.

He told of three instances where he felt his "guardian angel" intervened in his life. Once, when very littte, when he was crossing a barnyard that he was not supposed to be in, an enraged, large hog charged him. He froze, stared at the hog, and it stopped a few feet from him. If it had completed its charge it probably would have killed him. Another was during WWI. He emerged from a bunker, was going to sit and chat with comrades, something told him to move away, a shell landed and killed all of his friends. The third, after the war he was completing college, undecided about his future. He was offered an attractive future by some "natural" medical practitioners, but he wanted to pursue a career as a medical doctor. In his room at the YMCA in Chicago, he fell to his knees in prayer, asked for help, arose, and knew he was to be a medical doctor, and followed that path.

He became a  pillar of the community in Dayton, Ohio. After medical school, he interned at Miami Valley Hospital, and set up his practice in Dayton as a General Practitioner. He eventually specialized in Obstetrics, and is responsible for bringing many people into the world.

I have a picture of he and Mom close by, as well as his WWI medals and some other memorabilia, a very small hat from his youth and his barracks had from WWI. They are displayed in and on an end table, which he made, carpentry was his hobby.