The first pic is my Dad standing proudly with his first car, a 1935 Studebaker coupe. This next pic was taken several years later in Italy, my Dad with the 3rd Infantry Division in 1943.
Hello, I remember that in 1949, our dad took us to some far away shooting range to shoot a huge pistol with his friend. He said that he had to learn to shoot the pistol. It was a squarish pistol called a .45 cal handgun. Why? He and several of his friends got drafted and went to the physical exam in downtown Los Angeles. They were given instructions to wait at home, but, keep training, until called up otherwise. In the mean time, my brother and I went with him to the gun range in Wilmington. Our dad was a peaceful sort of a guy, who was very quiet and reserved. But, this episode of his life had him scared and he wanted to be prepared. So, our day at the shooting range was interesting. The instructor took my dad and several friends to the spot, showed them the proper handling, stance, grip, and take apart the gun(s). My brother and I were far away with cotton in our ears from the extremely loud noises. We had read and saw plenty of guns in comic books and magazines, but never heard one actually shoot. The rifles at the Pike, (in the shoreline Long Beach location) were small .22 rifles and they sounded like our cap guns. We walked back to the 1949 Buick sedan and locked ourselves in the back seat, reading comics. As the local newspapers told of the war, we were worried that our dad would have to go overseas. But, a year later, he told us that he sold his .45 to his friend and that was the end of the gun episode for him and the whole family. He told us that he did not like shooting that gun. He did not have to go to the war, after all, but still had his Army draft notice papers and instruction preparedness letter. He was worried the whole time and after the war was declared over, we moved to our last Westside of Long Beach house in late 1953. Jnaki We did go to a cemetery in East Los Angeles to honor his friends that did not come back from that overseas war. Our dad never shot another gun in his life. He even did not want to shoot the .22 rifles at the Pike, like the two little brothers did.
For most of my life, it is spent putting up and taking down flags in the cemetery on Memorial Day. 1583 flags have been dedicated as of 6-1-2021 by the family of a veteran that has died. Both while serving and in civilian life.