A week after Memorial Day, I was drawn to the cover of the current National Geographic magazine: a photo portrait of Lawrence Brooks, an impressive looking African-American man who at age 110 is America’s oldest known World War II veteran.
The feature story was entitled, The Last Voices of World War II. Mr. Brooks’ gaze, like others featured, was rich in depth. I was pulled in; a last touch to my father’s generation. Dad would have been 105 this year.
In a lead-in account, separate from the main article, a woman told of accompanying her father-in-law, then age 85, back to Normandy, France. She knew he’d been involved somehow in D-Day, but he’d never spoken of it. If asked, he would say he came “later” and drop it. No one pushed him.
Standing on Omaha Beach, she finally asked what “later” meant. He said, “11:00 a.m.”; D-Day morning. The family finally understood why he hadn’t spoken. He’d had to step over hundreds of bodies. When he died at age 96, the top drawer of his desk held a yellowed, official, typewritten list of the men who’d hit the beachhead with him. The family had never seen it. He’d circled his name and noted the dead and wounded. We all have moments that stay with us forever.
The magazine shared brief stories of 34 people, now in their late 90s and beyond. Men, women, Americans, persons of other cultures, nationalities, military, civilians, survivors. Some had never told their stories. Some passed before the issue went to print. Their brief testimonials brought clarity of perspective to the humanity of what they experienced and how they coped.
So fitting for Memorial Day, but the article sparked yet a broader perspective. Every set of eyes, all of us, have our own unique story. From childhood on, we piece together our lives and do the best we can. Each of those living to their 80s, 90s and beyond have such a full and unique story to tell. The elders amongst us can speak to an amazing expanse of change. They represent the richest piece of community; a living touch to history.
Most of us wish at some point we could talk once again to someone we looked up to, or who we knew could answer a question about how something happened, or who we just miss. There are so many heroes in our midst: in family, neighborhoods, among friends and colleagues, across community and country. Heroes inspire, give unconditional love, are peace makers, provide positive focus in the midst of despair, give hope and guidance.
Those who make it to the latest decades of life show us resiliency and perspective. If we take time to reflect, their stories teach. By census estimates a couple years old, in the twin cities there are an estimated 700 plus individuals over the age of 80. Go out to all of Berrien, Cass and Van Buren and the number will be upwards of 12,000.
You’re missing the boat if you don’t connect as much as is welcome with this disappearing asset in our communities. Have you been curious about someone but don’t know how to strike up a conversation? Google conversation starters and you’ll have more ideas than you know what to do with.
Getting to know each other builds community; creating friendships brings calm. Winning efforts for these times.