Greater Love

John 15: 13 tells us that there is no greater love than the laying down of one's life for others. Of course, Christ was referring to Himself when He said this, but throughout history, many individuals have been willing to lay down their own life for the sake of another. A prime example of this is war, often when men and women have been called upon to defend their “religion, freedom, peace and families” (see Alma 46 in the Book of Mormon).

The Keillor and Smith families are replete with those willing to not only defend those freedoms, but who paid the “ultimate price” to do so. On this Memorial Day, I’d like to focus on a few who have something specific in common.

The first is Phil Justis, whose story is told in another post: http://keillorsmith.blogspot.com/2014/07/in-memory-of-cousin-phil-70-years-later.html. His parents' headstone lists his name and dates with the poignant comment "Lies in France." 

Another soldier in our family was John “Jackie” August Breder, of Egg Harbor City, New Jersey.

He served in the 96^th “Deadeye” Division, participated in the invasion of Leyte Gulf, but died on 25 October 1944 in a Philippine Hospital of wounds received in battle. He is memorialized on a cenotaph in his family’s plot in the Egg Harbor City Cemetery and on the memorial wall of the Manila American Cemetery.

Many thanks to my friend Mark Maxwell for the photograph of Jackie Breder's marker in Egg Harbor City, NJ.

George Brandt, of Irvington, NJ, was in the Army Air Forces stationed in Italy. He was a crewmember on a B-25 Mitchell medium bomber that was flying a supply flight from Vincenzo Aerodrome into France on 19 Feb 1944, when the plane experienced engine problems and crashed into Lake Lesina, near Foggia, Italy with the loss of all hands.

George Brandt has a marker at the National Cemetery in Beverly, NJ, although I've found no record of his body being recovered. 

 Two Naval officers are also in this group. The first is Lt. (j.g.) Frederick Mueller, also of Egg Harbor City, NJ.

Thanks to the archives of Rutgers University for the high school graduation photograph of Lt. Mueller. 

He was stationed on the USS Franklin (CV-13) “Big Ben,” which was hit by a kamikaze plane on 19 Mar 1945. He was killed that day, along with over 700 other sailors. The story of the heroics of her crew, including two who earned the Congressional Medal of Honor that day, is worth reading: http://www.ussfranklin.org/

Many thanks to my dear friend Sue VerHoef for the photograph of Lt. Mueller's name at Hawaii's "Punchbowl."

Finally, Lt. (j.g.) Jeremiah “Jerry” Philp, a Naval aviator aboard the USS Salamaua (CVE-96). He was killed attempting to make an emergency landing onboard when his wing tip clipped a gun emplacement and his plane went over the side. The surrender had been signed on the USS Missouri a mere five days earlier. We were able to acquire his service record that included recommendations from grade school teachers that attested to his fine character.

Jerry Phillp's yearbook from Wayne State University in Michigan

Now further research into my grandchildren's family tree reveals another: Glenn Walther Uehling, who was killed in Belgium before he even reached his 20th birthday. 

Glenn Walther Uehling in his fraternity photograph from the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

No father should ever have to sign such a form as "Application for Headstone" for a child.

What do these six men have in common besides having died in WWII? Each of them, except for Jackie Breder, was the only child of his parents. Jackie was the only son, having three sisters.

Having been the mom of two sons in service with six deployments under her belt, I can’t even begin to imagine the sense of grief, pain and loss these parents felt. I don’t know the exact circumstances, but I feel that it’s telling that Lt. Mueller’s mother died the same year, and Sgt. Justis’ mother died two years after her son was killed.

How grateful we should be on this Memorial Day for the men and women and their parents, who have sacrificed so selflessly for this great nation. 

Aunt Tille and the Wenz Family

Every family has at least one brickwall, and as many methods of climbing over them. One of my strategies was to write a family history of one of our lines that ended at that ancestor’s immigration into the United States.

What an undertaking it became! But it forced me to re-examine thirty years of evidence and helped me to find some clues I’d overlooked.

Twenty-six pages later, my data had congealed into a reasonably decent narrative that I felt I could share with family members, known and unknown. Now, how to distribute it? Since I’m currently out of work, it had to be very budget-friendly. Well, I had plenty of stamps and envelopes and access to online people searches – so I went looking for distant cousins. I started with just one line – the Maitlands. I had been in contact with one of the cousins years ago, and was dismayed to learn that he had since passed away. But his obituary listed the names and towns of his siblings and children, so I wrote six letters. Well, one of them hit paydirt! I heard from the granddaughter of Aunt Tillie, my great-grandfather’s older sister. Tillie had lived with them for a time after her husband passed away.

The cousin shared a few stories with me that contained some important clues, and I’ll share a few of them here:

“During the second WW, my Mom worked several hours a day in a cemetery greenhouse.  My Mom had the greenest thumb you could find.  So....Grandma Maitland took care of us kids, or vice versa many times.  She was funny, because she wanted the neighbors to think that she was earning her keep - she would stand in one place on the sidewalk with a broom in her hand and sweep periodically. That was long before senior residences.  Altho, when she lived with Uncle Bill in Delaware, she told me that to keep busy there, she would take the bus to the Nursing Home to visit the "girls".  She was 10 years older that most of them were, but they were her friends.  I remember visiting at her home when Grandpa was still living.  They had an old pump organ, which my kid brother and I loved.  We could not reach the peddles and the keys at the same time, so we took turns.  He would play while I pumped the peddle and then we would change places.  Didn't bother Grandma doing it that way. Grandma Maitland (Wenz) lived with us about 6 months of the year after Grandpa died.  She had two sons, William and Robert Laurie Maitland, Jr. (my dad).  They took turns caring for her until she died.  She told me, since I was the youngest and would listen, stories about growing up in her family.  She said that they never spoke anything but German until they went to school.  She taught me one little verse in German that they always insisted she learn and it still is with me a lot, and she told me about her brother and his understanding of American idioms.  He was chopping wood and seemed to struggle with it.  They told him he needed more "elbow grease".  The next thing they saw was her brother in the yard greasing his elbows.  I always assumed it was Uncle Ed, who may be your grandfather figure.  I remember him well, because he came once in a while to visit with Matilda.  He was a beautiful person - very large- and very gracious, especially with us a little kids.  He had the biggest hands I ever remember, but he was a farmer in the Boston area and I assumed that was his largest."

What a great peek inside my family history – the real people, not just the names and dates on a page! So, reach out to distant cousins – you’ll never know what you’ll find!

And the book? Here's the link: https://docs.google.com/open?id=0B47bUrlyCkJhRndzeGx3NlQ4eFk