Today’s post is 1215 words, 1 photos, a 5 minute read. Enjoy!

Hi everyone,

Last week Sunday morning, I participated in the monthly Zoom meeting of The Writer’s Circle. This group of seven formed after we met at an online memoir writing class in January 2021 organized by the Madeline Island School of the Arts. Our instructor was Laurie Lindeen, the author of “Pedal Pusher,” her memoir about her time in an all-woman indie rock band, and at the time a teacher of writing and literature at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul. It was a great class and the participants decided to meet monthly to share stories that we’ve written to a prompt selected by one of group. We’ve been meeting ever since. I always look forward to this time with fun and creative friends, none of whom I’ve met in person.

The prompt for our January meeting was: “Write about a neighbor, past or present, who has impacted your life in some way. Whether positive or negative or in-between, how did this neighbor affect you?” I wrote about Harold, our closest neighbor to the farm I grew up on in North Dakota. I told the story how Harold helped me out during a late spring snow storm in 1967 when the electricity was out for nearly 24 hours. As I listened to the other participants read the stories they had written, I was reminded about a couple of stories I wrote early in the pandemic when travel was not recommended. Below is an edited version of what I wrote nearly four years ago about our neighbors down the street.

Down the Street with Carl and Myrtle

It looks like we’ll be sheltering in place and staying at home for the next several weeks (little did we know how long this would affect our lives) so I’m combing through my photo archives for blog writing material. I have a couple of themes that I’m working on, one of them being photos I’ve taken of people over the years. That’s what I’ll start with this week and then alternate themes so I, or more importantly you, don’t get bored. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.

I’ll start with a couple of people most of you haven’t met, our former neighbors Carl and Myrtle. They lived down the street from us for many years until their physical abilities became too challenging for them to stay in their home so they moved to a nearby apartment. We didn’t see them too much after their move except once in a while they would stop to chat when they’d see us out in the yard. Sadly they both passed away in 2016 within a few months of each other. He was 93, she was 98.

Carl and Myrtle were some of the kindest, most pleasant people you could ever meet. Myrtle had a keen sense of humor and could produce a laugh out of most anyone with a joke or a self-deprecating comment. She had those natural “Grandma” like qualities even though they didn’t have any grandchildren of their own, I felt like I was one of hers.

Carl was very precise in his soft spoken speech, always careful to chose his words carefully and looked everyone straight in the eye. I never heard him say anything bad about anyone, even politicians! I first met him soon after we moved to the neighborhood when he rode by our house on his bicycle and stopped to introduce himself as I was working in the yard. I realized then that Carl was quite deaf and even with hearing aids one had to speak in a loud voice to be heard. Over the years I learned that Carl was a Navy veteran of World War II. And it was still much later that I discovered that he spent nearly all of his adult life with two leg prosthesis.

You see, Carl’s ship, the USS Rich, Destroyer Escort 695, was sunk by German mines in the English Channel on June 8, 1944 during the Allied invasion of Normandy, D-Day. Ninety-one of the 213 crew on board perished. Carl spent 24 hours in the cold water of the English Channel and when rescued was assumed dead. Only when he was given Last Rites was it determined that Carl was still breathing. He was rushed to a MASH unit in Dover, England where one of his legs was amputated and then shipped to Boston to recover where the second leg was removed.

After a few years of rehabilitation and a set of new legs, Carl came to Madison to work in the printing business and later owned a bookstore. Carl and Myrtle were married in 1960 and honeymooned in Hawaii for three weeks, a fact we learned when hosting a neighborhood luau on one of the coldest days of the winter. Since both married later in life they didn’t have children of their own, although they tried, three infants died in childbirth. They adopted a daughter, Karen, who still lives in the house down the street and cared for them during their last years. (An update: Karen sold the house a few years ago and moved away.) Carl and Myrtle were people who lived their faith, attending church on Sunday, he in a suit and tie and she in her best dress and shoes. Then everyday quietly living their lives as good examples to others.

Carl never complained about his situation and always projected a positive outlook on life. When he found out that my Traveling Partner and I both worked at the local Veteran’s Hospital, he always expressed appreciation (never a grievence) for the services he and all the other veterans were provided. Every once in awhile he would offer a suggestion for improvement, we both knew to take it seriously and make it better.

While writing this post, I found a newspaper article online about Carl. While recovering from his amputations, he asked his father, Alfred, to search for the man that pulled him out of the water. Carl knew he was from Ft. Wayne, Indiana and that his first name was Raymond. Alfred contacted the Ft. Wayne Chamber of Commerce who helped find Ray Tinkel, the Navy corpsman that saved Carl. Carl’s father expressed gratitude for saving his son, invited him to Milwaukee and asked him to visit Carl at the Boston hospital. Carl was forever indebted to Ray for saving his life. At Carl’s funeral, his leg prosthesis stood by the casket as a reminder to us all the sacrifice the men and women in uniform have given for our freedoms, safety, and our way of life.

When I started this post, my plan was to create a post with many photos accompanied by a short explanation. My plan changed when I came across this photo of Carl and Myrtle and I started writing about them. During our current situation, called a “war” by some, it’s a good time think about what we may have to give up to “win” this conflict, for some a lot, for others not so much. Time will tell so let Carl and Myrtle’s kindness, humor, and perseverance be an inspiration to us all  and give us strength during this challenging time.

Join me next week for another adventure, I’m trying to figure out what that will be!

Until then, happy virtual travels!

Tom

PS: Click here and here for the blogs from the last two weeks on Big Bend National Park.