"Our Son George"
I should be grateful to you for encouraging me to chronicle my son's life but for many years I have been unable to talk about him in any way but as an elusive illusion until my wife and I celebrated our 60th wedding anniversary party when I gave a little talk and introduced my family . never before, have I thought of my son in any context but that of young man whom I hardly got to know and yet, became an intricate part of who I am. he barely got to live but I feel that in a way, I was partly responsible for his death. George was born two months prematurely , weighing barely three and a quarter pounds at birth. He spent the next four weeks in an incubator during which time he gained a paltry five ounces. At this point in time, the hospital medical staff came to the conclusion that there was little hope for his survival and decided to send him home with a one in two hundred chance for survival. They literally sent him home to die but the medical profession had not reckoned with the maternal instincts of a new mother. We took him home, but not to die. This young mother. Barely out of her teens and with another infant at home, was determined not to give up this struggling infant's life without a fight and if God was going to take her baby, then He was going to have to go through his mother. she committed her life to the salvation of this rejected bit of humanity, mind, body and spirit she tenaciously nurtured and nursed this helpless young life. She became his incubator, her life flowed into his, her will became his will and with courage, determination an an awful lot of love when there was little else to give, George finally turned the corner and began to show signs of remaining among the living. Only his mother and God know how she did it for it seemed she spent all her waking hours at his side I don't know when, if ever, she took time out to eat or sleep for she had to feed him every three hours, 24/7 but more than that, it was her life she poured into that tiny infant and with God's grace, she breathed life into a child the medical profession had abandoned. She fought the battle of her life, against insurmountable odds and won. As George continued to thrive and develop there was a sort of symbiotic relationship formed between him and his mother, each depending upon and feeding off the other and I suppose I became a little envious of the bond forming between them. after all, a son is supposed to bond with his father but George always turned towards his mother whenever he wanted to go ice skating or fishing and she was never too busy spend this precious time with him. The closer they became, the more difficult it was for his mother to break away. She became more than his mother, she became his best friend, his confessor,, mentor and lover. oh yes, every boy, at one time or another, falls in love with his mother. I don¢t mean to imply that he became a momma's boy, quite to the contrary, at six feet three inches and 200 pounds George became the quintessential jock, lettering in three sports in high school. But apart from his athletic prowess this young man was quite unique in other aspects with wisdom far beyond his tender years. He had a profound appreciation for the terms. " honor" and "duty" and the dignity of freedom. He felt the constitution and bill of rights were more than inspirational words promulgated by a group of dedicated patriots. he felt this to be a creed by which we should all live, not just Americans but all people who yearn to be free. He felt that wherever in the world freedom was threatened it was a threat to all of us and with apologies to john donne, that great English poet, philosopher and priest, "no man is an island entire of itself and when one man¢s freedom is threatened it affects me because I am a part of mankind". It was also his belief that we all have a moral obligation to defend the guarantees assured us by the precious blood of those who have fought and died to preserve it. hence, his introduction into the war in southeast Asia. George did not have to go for he was an engineering student at Hartford university and as such, could have had an automatic student deferment. But he was not looking for the easy way out. While at university, he honed his soccer skills to where he caught the eyes of the Olympic committee and was offered a tryout with the Olympic team. here again, he could have had an automatic deferment, but his eyes and heart were on the far east. He joined the army and took his basic training at fort Polk in Louisiana. George took the required battery of tests among which was the west point qualification test where he posted the highest score ever recorded at ft Polk and as far as I know, that score still stands. This is not the hollow boasting of a proud father for everything I've stated is a matter of record open to anyone's scrutiny. Here, once more, he could have avoided serving in a war zone. But he turned down the appointment for that would have delayed his comittment another four to five years. He then volunteered for the most hazardous duty of the war. At a time when the enemy was knocking 100 helicopters a week, George decided this was what he wanted to do. He received his wings at fort Stewart in Georgia in the summer of 69 and went on to complete 55 successful combat missions. Then we received the most dreadful news no parent should ever have to suffer. George now lies in a quiet little churchyard cemetery with his Vietnam buddies at either side, in a small new england town, overlooking the Farmington river valley where he grew up to be a man. His mother, who gave him life and who so valiantly fought to keep him alive, when she too, slips her earthly bonds, will rejoin her beloved son for all eternity in that quiet little churchyard cemetery in that small new england town, overlooking the Farmington river valley.
many people have asked me why I chose, "dannyboy" as background music since our son's name was George. the names are incidental. the music was chosen because it speaks of a father's anguish as he prepares to send his only remaing son off to fight a war, knowing, in his heart, that he will never see him again.